Slow Runners Shouldn't Race (well at least that's what I'm told)

Pearl Izumi recently came out with an ad that states "The Marathon. Once a test of will, now a test of patience."

I understand that there is A LOT of controversy over slow runners partaking in ultras, marathons, and half marathons. There is now an overarching assumption that the sport of running has been weakened by those who aren't fast and/or elite.

As a slow runner I am not offended, but more disappointed that people see me for my speed instead of looking at my effort. I am out running 4 times a week. I have decreased my pace by 2 minutes per mile over the last year. And I have NEVER disrespected a race and have always pushed myself to be better.

I PAY to participate in races I know I have no chance of winning. I also cheer on those who are "fast" and look-up to runners who are considered elite. I recently saw a comment on a post out there in the Internet Universe that said something along the lines of "You aren't a true 'Runner' if you can't qualify for Boston." I may never qualify for Boston, but I do dream that maybe (one day years from now) I just might make it.

I feel like a lot of the controversy stems from the fact that running has no 'real' rules. Anyone can do it. The idea of calling a slow runner an "Athlete" (gasp) boggles the minds of many.

But the real question is, "what's the big deal?" As long as I am not in front of you in a race and I pull to the side when you're lapping me (yes I do) what is the problem? I never register for a race that I do not meet the pace/time requirements. So there should be no reason why the water stations have nothing left for me or that the volunteers are taking down the finish line before I cross.

I just ask for the same consideration from running companies, race organizers, and other runners that I give to them. Putting down the little (slow) guy isn't any way to increase profits, race registrations, or make friends.

I AM A RUNNER. Maybe a slow one... but who are you to judge?

**UPDATES**
A reader of HMR posted this link "Pearl Izumi Ads Separate the Runners From the Pussies… I Mean Joggers" explaining why Pearl is right in their campaign.<--- this blog post has since been deleted and has been replaced with a public apology "Pearl Izumi and Pussy Apology" 
I do want to acknowledge something Vanessa said "Runners are runners. Runners KNOW they are runners. Runners are NOT defined by an ad campaign." She really is sincere in the fact that we shouldn't let others define us. As I stated above "Who are you to judge?" We know who we are and will not let othera define us!
To Vanessa (if you ever read this, which I doubt) keep strong! I may not have shared your view on the subject (100%) but I respect the idea that all people have different views on topics. Your intent at trying to tell people not to let a campaign define them was heard and I respected that.
Sincerely,
Me

Also...

Another reader, Elizabeth, received a response from Pearl after she sent them an email explaining her distaste for their marketing campaign and this is their response (also found below in the comments):

Dear Elizabeth,

We really appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts about the Run like an Animal Marathon Ad. This is actually an Ad from 2010 that we decided not to run any longer; we are currently trying to discover where this ad was disseminated?! Please let us know where you saw this!

I apologize that the ad struck such a negative cord with you. Our only intention is to inspire runners to get out and run. This was never about being an elite athlete or the time you finish a race. This is about a state of mind. We want people to challenge themselves and test their limits. We want you to feel great about being a runner and we want to celebrate the human effort to push yourself to be as good as you can be. We consider anyone who is out there testing their limits and trying to be improve to a runner.

Please accept our sincere apology!

Sincerely,
Kody Riley

And also...

Elle posted a link to a public apology made today by Pearl. Here is what they said:

"Hey everyone, we really appreciate you taking the time to share you thoughts about the Run like an Animal Marathon ad. This is actually an Ad from 2010 that we decided not to run any longer; we are currently trying to discover where this ad was disseminated?! Please let us know where you saw this! I apologize that the ad struck such a negative cord with you. Our only intention is to inspire runners to get out and run. This was never about being an elite athlete or the time you finish a race. This is about a state of mind. We want people to challenge themselves and test their limits. We want you to feel great about being a runner and we want to celebrate the human effort to push yourself to be as good as you can be. We consider anyone who is out there testing their limits and trying to be improve to a runner. Please accept our sincere apology!"

** Any other update or opinions I would love to see and share!**

Case of the Mondays

Have you ever seen Office Space? If you have you probably remember the clip below. Don't you just want to scream!?



For me I am having a horrible case of the Monday's. A lot stems from an amazing and emotionally charged race on Saturday that has given me the running blues, as well as <insert whisper> that time of the month, and the very basic fact that it is Monday. I have been trying to find things around me that make me smile and think, "Monday isn't so bad!" So here it is, my anti-case of the Monday's list.

#1 - Really taking in the the beauty that is NYC.

#2 - Seeing a group of small children watching the trains pass by and getting the conductor to honk his/her horn.

#3 - Spotting a poster with crazy discounted tickets to go see Spider Man the musical

#4 - Realizing that I shouldn't feel blue about an amazing race. Instead I should be depressed by the pile of readings I have stacked on my desk... <sigh> graduate school stinks!

#5 - An amazing salad for lunch with mixed greens, apples, cranberries, turkey, tomatoes, and eggplant. Yummy.

#6 - Seeing a professor cruise down a hall on a non-motorized scooter (no picture, sorry)

#7 - Passing by an office of an elderly man, who is sitting at his desk jamming out to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack (no picture, sorry)

#8 - This face.

#9 - And this face.

After writing this post Monday doesn't seem so bad after all!

Happy One Year Anniversary - The Year in Review (part 2)

Here it is, part two of my one year anniversary in review. You can read part one here.

The day I decided to change my life was the most difficult step in my journey. I remember walking into the gym intimidated. I was never really a gym person, actually to be honest I was never really a athletic person. Before having Michael I tried to maintain a "healthy" weight by going on different diets. Once I reached my goal weight I would stop dieting and within a month the weight would come back on. But this time it was different, I wasn't standing in the lobby of a crowded gym with the intentions of losing weight. I was there to change my life. Something much deeper than being skinny. But becoming healthy has its perks, and one is healthy weight loss.

After I signed up for a membership I decided that I was going to invest in a personal trainer. Someone to help me hold myself accountable. For two months I met regularly with my trainer to go over new strength training routines and talk about my progress. My trainer, GeraldDean, was inspiring. And one day, on a whim, I signed up for the Walt Disney World Wine and Dine Half Marathon (it was in the middle of the night and I was only going on 3 hours of sleep because of a sick child). I had told myself that if I could run 3 miles I could easily get to 13.1 miles. So I informed my trainer that I wouldn't be coming in as often and would be focusing on running outside. My training went from three miles (in May) on a treadmill to 12 miles outdoors by the end of August. I couldn't believe that I was able to clock so many miles in one run.

As my training progressed through the summer, my happiness increased. I felt better about myself. Not the way I looked but how I felt mentally. It was like a weight was slowly lifting off my shoulders. During my long runs I would pause my Garmin and stand on the sidewalk overlooking the Hudson River. Many times I would close my eyes and breath in the salty air allowing the sun to just beat down on my face. Life felt amazing. Allowing myself the time to take in the little moments wasn't something I had done much in the past. I was beginning to understand what it meant by living in the moment.

As the summer drew to a close, I started to anticipate my first half marathon. Disney was right around the corner, but so was the start of school. I quickly learned that I had to start juggling my PhD program with my running. Something that not many PhD students do (from my experience). So to squeeze a run in during a busy day I would bring my shoes and shorts with me. Between meetings I would sneak out to get in an easy three. Running in Manhattan was much different compared to running in Queens.

Before I knew it, the Wine and Dine half marathon had arrived. When we got to FL I was nervous, but it really didn't hit me until the day of the race. As I walked out the door of our hotel room, I was solo. My husband, son, and brother were going to go to a park to watch the fireworks. I made my way to the starting line with thousands of other people. Everyone seemed to have a running buddy but me. For the first time since I started this journey I felt lonely. It wasn't until I got into my corral that I met another girl that was also running solo. We started talking, and like me, she started running to help her overcome some crazy life events. Before our corral moved up to the starting line she said something that has stuck with me since, "We do this to become stronger, healthier women. But we also run to show the world that we will not be broken." That race was the most challenging run I have done. At one point I thought I was done. But I knew that there was no turning back. This was me and only me, and I had come too far to give in so easily. At mile 12 my husband waited for me. We both cried happy tears. He was so proud of me. In that moment he wanted to start running also. When we got back to NYC he did, and since he has run every race with me (the new connection we made through running has also made our relationship much stronger).

After the Wine and Dine I refused to stop running. I knew winter was coming but I had to keep up with my routine. So I went back to the gym. When I arrived I had found out that my trainer had left to pursue bigger opportunities. This left me feeling directionless. So I went back to running outside until the first snow fall.

In November, I suffered a minor ankle sprain. I know some will probably shake their heads, but this was my first running related injury. The idea of getting hurt caused me to put my shoes away for a while (a month to be exact). I didn't want to risk getting hurt. Until one day it hit me that running was my Zen, my place of calm and reflection, my life blood of sane. It was the moment that my husband said, "Go run before you go crazy" that I realized I couldn't give up. So I took my shoes out and went for a run. The wind in my face never felt so good.

Since that point I have ran 3 more half marathons (Disney Half, Disney Relay, and Hyannis Half) and I am currently signed up for 4 more. People have asked me why I run so many races. The truth is I love the race vibe, but most importantly it gives me an excuse to run. I can not skip a run because I have to train for the next race. It has been my way of insuring that I don't lose the time to partake in the activity I have found such deep love for.

This past year has been amazing. I have found my way of coping with stress and have learned how to train my mind to think in a positive way (negative thoughts don't get you 13 miles). I have also learned that being mentally and physically healthy isn't a destination (like thin) but a constant progression through life. I have bad days (just like everyone), those are the times I cherish my runs and really take it all in. Those are the days that I find are the most important to put on my shoes and just go.

I have lost a lot of weight, and the only reason I know this is because my pants don't fit. I refused to keep track of a number on a scale. Instead I listened to my body and ate what felt right. I didn't want to be focused on a number.  I just wanted to continue to work towards my next long run. Recently, I did go back to the gym where I met my new trainer. Alexandra's goal for me is to run faster and stronger so I can stay injury free and be able to enjoy years of running. I am looking forward to the next chapter of this journey and to see where I am next year.

Overall I am extremely happy with the outcome. I am a completely different person compared to a year ago and I couldn't imagine going back to the way I was. This is me. I am a runner.

Happy One Year Anniversary - A Celebration of Turning My Life Around (part 1)

This particular blog post has been rolling around in my head for almost a month now. I have contemplated what to write, how much to write, stories to tell, etc. I am honest on my blog and what you read is truly me. I don't fudge my running times, race recaps, or personal stories.

I started Happy Mother Runner to find others just like me; people who love to run, but have also found running through personal struggle. Everyone has a story, and I have talked about mine briefly, but I feel like this particular post deserves the whole story. How I started running one year ago this week completely uncensored and honest.

Here is My Story
A year ago this week, March 2011, is when I decided to turn my life around. I had hit, the metaphorical, rock bottom and I needed to make some drastic changes for my well being. I was suffering from Postpartum depression and I had let my physical health spiral out of control.

To understand the place I was mentally, I need to go back to the birth of my son (April 2010). My pregnancy with Michael was fairly easy. There were no complications, except the fact that I had gained 80 lbs (way too much for a pregnancy). Everything was fine until the night my water broke. My labor and delivery was extremely difficult. Right away the nurses and Doctor knew that things weren't right. There was Meconium in my fluid and my contractions were inconsistent. It was eight hours into my labor that the unthinkable happened. Michael's heart rate dropped to almost nothing. Nurses rushed into the room and started shifting my body from side to side trying to get Michael to move. I remember the rush of events, it was so quick I didn't even get the words "what's happening" out of my mouth before a nurse yelled "her heart rate is dropping too!" and then placed an oxygen mask on me. I was in a panic and just wanted it all to end. So I closed my eyes and started saying "this is all a dream" when I opened them and realized it wasn't I grabbed the hand of the nurse who was standing beside me, and then I closed my eyes again but this time I began to pray. After approximately 15 minutes, the nurses stepped back and smiled, "he's back" I remember one saying to another. The response back was "we don't have much time".

Within an hour I was rushed into an operating room where my doctor assured me we were going to have a healthy happy baby. I closed my eyes again and told my husband to let me know when Michael arrived. Tommy didn't need to say a single word, the moment Michael was born there was an emotion in the room. I felt his presence, even before Michael cried. I knew I was a mom and after everything he survived. Once I was stitched up and Michael was off to the nursery, the Doctor informed us that Michael had a short umbilical cord and that the contractions were squeezing him to death because he couldn't descend into the vaginal canal. I was beyond happy, we had given birth to a healthy baby boy. In my mind, that point on, everything was going to be ok. I wish that were the case.

The Doctor informed me that my hospital stay would be three days. By the end of my time, I knew something wasn't right. The nurse came in to give me the Postpartum screening test. As she asked me questions like "do you feel sad?" I felt my extended family members staring at me. I knew the stigma of depression and I didn't want people to view me as someone who couldn't take care of my son. So I lied. On the way home I cried. My husband asked me what was wrong and I lied telling him that it was the pain from the surgery. My recovery after my C-section was slow and painful. I have had women tell me that after their C-sections they forced themselves to feel better to be there for their child. I wanted nothing more than to be able to walk over to my sons crib and pick him up and breastfeed him with no help. But the pain was unbearable and my husband had to do the night feedings. It killed me to not be able to take care of Michael fully.

After a few weeks I was feeling better, but the sadness was still there. I would quietly cry myself to sleep or go and take a shower just to cry. As time went on the sadness got worse and it was amplified when I would have family tell me I was taking care of my son wrong. It seemed that everything I did: change him, feed him, play with him was wrong. A few months into his life I felt unfit to be his mother. I started having horrible thoughts of how everyone, including my son, would be better without me. The most important time of my life had turned into my darkest moments. I deeply regret not reaching out for help. But in the moment, I thought my family would see me as weak.

I began to eat to make myself feel better. Food was my happy place. At 5 months after birth, my breast milk stopped coming in. I am pretty sure it was due to the depression and poor eating habits. When I stopped breast feeding I started to put on a lot of weight. But it didn't matter, food made me feel good. This went on for months.

Then it happened. One day while laying in bed with Michael something clicked. I think it was the moment he pulled my head close to his to snuggle. We laid there starring into each others eyes. It was the first time I cried happy tears. It was in that moment I knew that no matter what, I was his mom and nobody could replace me. I knew I had to make a change. I needed to feel better for my child. The next day after my shower I stood starring in the mirror. I hated what I had become. I gained a lot of weight and I felt physically and mentally bogged down.

Later that day, I sat eating lunch with my husband. I remember the exact meal, a double hamburger with everything (including cheese) and some chili fries. It was half way through my meal that I put my food down. I told my husband that I needed to go somewhere and I got up from the table and left the house. I walked down to the local gym and signed up. I reached my breaking point. No more of this lifestyle, no more feeling this way. I was going to be the healthiest & happiest mother to my son. The next day I ran my first mile. That was a year ago this week.

A lot has happened in the last year and I am very proud of how far I have come. If you were to tell me a year and a half ago that I would be where I am today I would have rolled my eyes. It is always great to reflect on your accomplishments and to truly see how much you have grown, so my next post will be a "Year in Review" a part 2 to my anniversary post. I have to say that I am pretty proud to be showing you my before and now picture (I don't like the word "after", because I am a constant work in progress).

**It is important to realize that Postpartum depression is an illness and that if you or someone you know is suffering from it, you are not alone. The best advice I can give you is see a doctor (something I wish I would have done from the beginning). If you need someone to talk to, you can call Postpartum Support International Phone: 800-944-4PPD, 800-944-4773. You can also find out more information on Postpartum Depression here (http://www.womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/depression-pregnancy.cfm).

The Luck of 2011

The Greeks have this tradition where on the first day of the New Year we eat bread. Ok, it’s a little more complicated than that. We buy a round loaf of sweet bread, called Vasilopita or in English St. Basil bread, made special for the New Year holiday. What is special is that a coin is placed in the bread dough and then baked inside the bread.

When the first day of the New Year arrives we cut the bread into slices and dedicate each piece to an aspect of our lives and the people in the family. For example, every year we cut the bread into 11 pieces and dedicate them to the following: home, health, finance/work, and then the 8 people in our family (each member gets their own slice). When we are handed our pieces, everyone digs through their bread. The person who has the coin in their piece is bestowed good luck for the New Year. The year 2011 was my first year in which I had the coin. So, according to the Greeks I should have had a very lucky year. In retrospect I did. I have a very happy and healthy son, my relationship with my husband has grown stronger, and I have discovered my love for running. Of course 2011 had its pitfalls, mostly in the academic and job arena. But I learned a valuable lesson.

What I learned in 2011 was that I need to make myself (health and happiness) my number one priority. Once I learned this (which wasn’t easy), everything else just fell into place. Along this path of health and happiness, I discovered myself. I am pretty sure I lost my sense of identity along time ago, even before becoming a mommy and wife. My priority was school and work and it’s no surprise that the strong focus on these two aspects in my life have paid off immensely. But I was a workaholic with no outside interests. I forgot what I loved to do, because I never had the time to do it.

When I had my son in April 2010, it took almost a year to discover that the way I had been living life before wasn’t what life was about. March 2011 was when I turned it all around; school (as important as it is) became lower on my priority list. And jobs which I would have died to have before, I so graciously turned down. My priority became taking care of my family. And to do that to my fullest I needed to make sure I was feeling happy. I hit the gym and soon after I told myself I was going to do something I never thought I could, run a half marathon. And I did. That goal opened a door to a world I never imagined being at my fingertips.

The year 2011 wasn’t about luck; it was about learning to live life correctly by trying to enjoy every day.   Granted I did have my setbacks (mostly between Thanksgiving and Christmas), but the setbacks I experienced were necessary reality checks to help inspire and motivate me to continue being strong for myself and my family.

2011 was an amazing learning experience. But 2012 will be the year I shine. As John Lennon sang in his song Instant Karma “Well we all shine on, like the moon and the stars and the sun…Why in the world are we here surely not to live in pain and fear.”

Be Inspired, Stay Motivated, Run Strong! Happy 2012

My Head Is Playing Games

The other day a family member commented on how fat I still look even after all my running. At first the comment hurt, but after overcoming the sting I started to ponder why and it dawned on me that maybe I need to diversify my exercise routine. So I decided that I needed to really focus on my strength training. I know that I have it on my calender, but it is usually the first thing I skip when I need time to get work done for school or work.

So I started my Jillian Michaels routine. Two/three times a week I am alternating between "6 weeks to a 6 pack" and "30 day shred". I am hoping that tacking this on to my running will help build a stronger core, which is what I am really aiming for (not a thinner figure but a stronger one).

Even after figuring out my new plan of attack, my early morning run yesterday made me want to scream. It was one of those runs that was just hands down horrible. I know everyone has bad runs and to truly appreciate the good ones you have to experience the bad. But it's hard when you already feel like you are floundering. "You're fat! You're fat" kept running through my head. Along with "You're slow! "You're Slow!" (slow is my critique of myself). When I finally got home I just wanted to cry. But I told myself that the only way to get over this is to fix it. So I put in 30 day shred and worked my warm muscles a little more. Afterwards I felt a lot better.

I am my biggest critic. And I never thought that this journey would be easy, but I have learned one big lesson....As much as I train my body I also need to train my mind and thoughts to help me along and not bring me down.