Week 4- another 5 miler done.

I feel good, if not a little tired (surprise!!)


This was the 4th Saturday practice we've had and it wasn't too hot (we've been meeting around 6) but it was SUPER HUMID, so we were sweating in no time, but I did have my handy dandy hydration belt! It has two 10-ounce bottles and a little pouch for energy gels and such. (I apologize for the atrocious spacing, another thing I have yet to figure out). ANYWAY, mine's blue, but I wanted pink, but TriSports was out. I try not to pout about it, but it's hard.
I ran with my friend J again and it was nice to have a companion- it really helps pass the time and sets your cadence. The Nike team was out there too (they're training for a marathon in San Fran in October, so they're up to 10-12 miles these days). It was so neat to pass them- we would cheer each other on, then we would keep trudging.


We've adapted to the run/walk method of completing a marathon. Let's face it- I'm not training to win this race, and probably 90% of the people who are running it will walk at some point. Our coach told us that by running for x number of minutes and walking for 1 or 2, we would shave some serious minutes off of our time. Yeah right, you say. Well, coach Rick took about a half hour off of his time when he did run/walk.



Ugh, ok, FINE. I'll WALK. But only for 1 minute, and I'll run for 10.



Worked like a charm. It was awesome. While the legs were a bit heavy at the end, we weren't doing "The Marathon Shuffle", as Rick calls it.


I find myself becoming anxious and wanting to increase the mileage, like, NOW........Not like I could DO 10 miles tomorrow, but I want to start. I don't know why, I guess I'm just itching for the longer distances, since it IS a marathon, and it IS over 26 (don't forget the .2!) miles.....how is "only" running 5 miles going to help? I know, I know, it's rhetorical. I know the answer, I'm just throwing the question out there.


I think next week will be good in the sense that we're changing directions on the path, so a change of scenery will be welcome. However, J will be at Sea World in wonderful San Diego, so I must toe the line alone on this one. We'll see what happens.

After that we're going to start doing hills- so we'll run Sabino Canyon a few times.


Not familiar with Tucson? (The 520, as I like to call it) Check out Sabino Canyon at:
http://www.sabinocanyon.com/index.htm

It's 3.7 miles out and back (so, I guess it's more like 7.4), and it's a wonderful place- so beautiful and ALIVE. There was some flash flood damage from last year's monsoon season and it was closed for a long time, so I'm eager to return.


Yes.....Arizona has monsoons and flash floods. We get regular rain from June-August, so don't give me that "It's a dry heat" crap. Come visit me mid-July through late August. We'll see what's dry, because it certainly won't be you. :)


And not marathon related, but something else that's near and dear to me: Marching Band!

Last week was band camp for the Pride of Arizona, the University of Arizona's marching band. I was in it for four years, 2001-2004, and I miss it a lot. In fact, it's always this time of year that I start dreaming about it too. Like the other night, I dreamt that we were performing for the president and I couldn't find my music and plume (you know, those big feathery things on the hats [also known as a shako, and Todd wants his back]).....



Marching band kids (I can say "kids" now, I graduated!) work so hard. At the U of A, they easily put in 20-25 hours a week for 1 class credit. Practice from 3-6 MW, 3-10 on Friday, 8-noon on Saturday, then back on campus at 5 or so for a game, then they *might* get home before 11. Maybe. But they love it, *I* loved it. I still do and always will.



I am lucky enough to be with someone who understands this- he was a drummer on the snare line at U of A (not an easy feat- tryouts are killer), but as irony would have it, we didn't know each other then- we met after we'd both graduated from college. Anyway- he gets the need to stop by that final night rehearsal of band camp and see the show so far. He gets needing to go by the warm up drills before a game. Everybody who was ever in this marching band gets it.



So, on that note, I leave you with the cheer of the trombone section in the Pride of Arizona.

"Don't stop, get it get it!"

A small note about Comments

I've fiddled around with my comment settings.

If you aren't a member of Blogspot, you can still leave a comment, just do it as anonymous and then sign your name in the comment. :)

I've also changed it so that comments don't have to wait to be moderated by me, they'll just appear instantly, so you can see if yours posted or not. Instant gratification!

Hope everyone has a great Sunday.

I have a feeling today is going to involve some chores. Ugh.

Much Better!

Today's run was a total 180 from last week.

While I had to get up an hour earlier (4:30 am), it was great because we got a treat this morning- Mark Wallis, a certified Chi Running instructor, hosted a workshop on improving our running stride and cadence, making us more efficient runners. I learned a LOT and was eager to put these new skills and tips to use.

Here's Mark's Chi Running website- it's really good stuff!! http://www.markdwallis.com/index.htm

We hit the path at about 7:15, and it was warming up quickly, but it felt good. I was wearing my new hydration belt (I'll add a picture of this later) and was eager to test it out. A few small leaks, nothing big, and we were off.

I ran with a fellow teammate, and we chatted the whole way, which was really nice- we had a good pace and cadence set, and we were done before we knew it.

At about 1 mile from the finish, we ran into Mark, and he ran with us and gave us some more pointers as we were running, which was so awesome- he complimented our form and reminded us to swing our elbows back (swinging my arms too far forward is left over from my sprinting days, now I'm supposed to bring my hands far enough back to tickle my ribs!).

My legs started to get pretty tight towards the end- my quads felt like bricks, and I could feel myself just getting plain tired. Having the water with me helped a lot, but I mean, I'm not used to running this distance quite yet, so my body is still adjusting.

We finished, high-fived, and went to slurp down some gatorade. Now, I've always thought gatorade was just ok..... But when you run 5 miles and your body is craving electrolytes, gatorade is DELICOUS. Seriously, it was the best thing I'd ever tasted. Sad, I know. It's the simple things, people.

Had an awesome piece of quiche after at Beyond Bread. It had havarti in it. You put havarti in anything, I'm totally game. Oh, and let me add that I was 13 when I found out that quiche is pronounced KEESH, and not KWI-CHEE (life was so much easier after that).

I think the best part is that I don't feel like I'm going to crash now that I'm home, so I'll probably take a shower because I smell pretty ripe.

Have a good weekend!

Can't even form a sentence

Work is insane for me right now and I'm so exhausted; I can feel my body going through a transition. While I'm not sore after my runs, I'm so tired, which is almost worse. When you're sore, you know it, and you're forced to move slower, but when you're tired and NOT sore, you think you're ok until you start to do something...... In my case, it was running stairs. Normally I never have a problem with them (well, they don't give me any more trouble than anyone else), but on Monday, I was halfway up my first set of 9 flights (we do this 3 times on Mondays) and my legs were totally dead, just totally screaming in protest, and it sucked. A lot.

Today's workout was a bit better, although I can notice myself not being able to go as "all out" in cardio class as I used to. It's ok, I'm not going to beat myself up over it, but it's hard to maintain that mentality when anyone who knows me fairly well will say I'm a pretty competative person.....so it's difficult to force myself to "take it easy".....

Again, not what I expected when I entered into training, and again, not a complaint, just an observation.

Tomorrow we have a clinic on running and walking basics, and I'm eager to go and get some tips.

This weekend is a 5 miler, and we're sharing the river path with the folks training for the Nike Women's Marathon. I'll make a separate post about that later (shhhhh, don't tell, but I really want to run that one too!), but check it out at this website:

http://insidenikerunning.nike.com/2008/07/29/team-in-training/

A marathon? Ok. In San Francisco? I'm listening. A Tiffany's necklace waiting for you at the finish line? Yes, please! Running it with TNT and combined with everyone else, you raise over $18 MILLION for blood cancer research and patient services?? I'm *so* in (provided I survive Phoenix!).

And on that note, it's time to watch some Michael Phelps and go to bed.

Monkey Business

I started mountain biking a few years ago, and I threw myself into it head first, kind of like I did with this marathon. I joined a 24 hour relay team, not fully realizing just WHAT I was getting myself into, but thinking it would be fun (and it was!). But after that, I actually needed to LEARN how to mountain bike (the old "once you learn how to ride a bike, you never forget" does not apply to mountain biking).

But what struck me more than the actual act of biking itself was the amount of time and energy (not to mention money) that went into just PREPARING to mountain bike. First, you have to get your bike ready: lube the chain, check the brakes, air up the tires, pack spare tubes....then you have to get your gear ready: Camelbak (or other hydration, an absolute necessity in Arizona), energy gels, sunglasses (with different lenses depending on the weather), socks and shoes (are your cleats clean??), helmet, gloves, arm guards, and you get the idea......ugh.

Riding at night? That's a whole separate mess- then you get to deal with mounting lights and charging batteries (but be careful not to OVER charge them!) and securing cords and wires.

Ok, time to put the bike rack on, then the bike, and securing it, etc.

Now, let me pause here and say that I am NOT complaining.one.bit. I love my bike (her name is Clementine, because I know that's what you want to know) It's just the nature of the sport- they even make really cool bags to tote around all of your gear!

A good friend of mine (who talked me into mountain biking to begin with) turned to me mid-light-mounting session and said, "You know what, Elsbeth? Biking is all monkey business. That's all it is, monkey business" and we had a good laugh and then hit the trail. Again, not complaining or dogging on it, but it is monkey business. We joked about it later- It takes 4 hours to prepare for a 2 hour ride, and that includes commute time.....

I have a point, I promise!

When I started preparing for this marathon (a whopping two weeks ago), I thought, "Ok, I probably need some new shoes, no big deal, maybe a bra, too." (or brar as I like to say)

WRONG

I got new shoes, and I love them, but I got a blister, so I got insoles. Well, now I need to break IN the insoles so I can start running in them (They squeak like crazy, too, I feel like such a goofball at my office). Oh, cotton socks? No way, in fact, you can't wear ANYTHING cotton. Ok, have the socks and shoes and other proper attire (or so I thought).

Then we get to practice and as the runs are getting longer, we're needing more gear. Hat and sunscreen are a must (did I mention we're in Arizona?), then you need body glide (when you're running this many miles, bits and pieces you didn't know could chafe get so raw you want to cry), and a hydration belt is also a must. Got your salt packets and gels? Hope so!

Ok, NOW we're off.

I was totally wrong in thinking that running was "just" an activity where you throw on your shoes and iPod and go out and just jog for a bit. Well, you can still do that, but I now know that marathon training is a total 180.

So now that I've accepted that running is a bit more expensive than I anticipated, I know I'll be facing a mental wake-up call as well. I'm expecting this to happen sometime in the next couple of weeks, as we're increasing the distances and adding (dun dun duuuunnnnnnn) HILLS. I know there are going to be moments where my sanity is going to come into waver, but my motivation never will.

I know I'll be crawling after a morning practice, and wincing in pain as I take off my shoes, and probably complaining a LOT more than necessary, but as my coach put it "I don't have cancer, so I'm good".

Off and running

Literally and figuratively.

This weekend, my fundraising "officially" kicks off with my letter and email campaign. Check your inboxes! (Or, if you're reading this, maybe you got my email and have stopped by, so welcome to my blog!)

Yesterday was our second Saturday practice- every Saturday we run together as a team at a park in town. We run along a paved path along a "river" (there's water in it maybe a few times a year, after it rains, then it dries in another day or two......but every 10-20 years it floods...).

We run out and back's, to a certain landmark and back.

Today my distance was 4 miles. Not bad, I thought, I can do this- I ran over three on Thursday and felt great, so let's go!

Off on a slow run, trying to set my cadence and what is THIS???!?! A sideache? You're !@#$% kidding me, right? I haven't even gone a half a mile yet, so what's the deal? I kept running, albeit a bit slower, then one of my coaches caught up with me and asked me how I was doing, then we chatted, which helped distract me, and I was grateful for the conversation.

But this foreboding feeling started to set in: What if I really can't do this? What if I ALWAYS get sideaches and can't run any faster and I end up just TOTALLY hating running marathons? What if I can't make my fundraising goal? What if what if what if?

I pushed those thoughts aside and listened to my coach as he gave me some great pointers on rhythmic breathing and chi running, and it started to make sense, and before I knew it, we were done with our 4 miles. Really? Wow.....

I went home and took about a two hour nap- as my boyfriend put it "I'd hate to see you after a real marathon...." Oh boy.

Another quote on my training calendar says "Bad days are flukes, good days never are".

While not a REALLY bad day, it was not good enough to keep the "what ifs" at bay.

"Why?"

That's a response I get a LOT when I tell people I'm in training for a marathon.

Other popular responses include:
1) "You're crazy"
2) "Oh, the Phoenix Marathon? How far is that one?" (more on that later)
3) "I could NEVER do that....."

I want to address the "Why" first.

A marathon is something I never EVER ever EVER thought I would do. Ever.

Well, things change.

The two posts below describe the wonderful lives of two men who lost valiant and courageous battles with two different blood cancers, Leukemia and Lymphoma.

I miss them both. A lot. I'm not sure I ever really "properly" grieved for either of them, both for different reasons. There was the feeling of never really getting to say "Goodbye", the guilt of not seeing them often enough before they passed (it's the coulda-shoulda-woulda's that get ya every time), not to mention the memories that come flooding back when you see their handwriting in an old birthday card....the list goes on.


So when I heard about Team in Training and what they did, I initially balked. Me? A distance runner? Uh, no thanks. I ran track in Jr. High and the farthest I would go was 200 m. (that's a half a lap of a standard High School's track) Sprints, man. Long distance running is a WHOLE different ballgame.

But then I learned what Team in Training DOES- basically, you agree to raise money for an AWESOME cause (The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society) and they provide the resources for you to acheive an endurance event goal. Seriously, check it out! Watch the videos and tell me you don't want to do this.

http://www.teamintraining.org/

And after watching a friend go through her training and complete the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco (that course is SO COOL), I sat on the idea for about three years, then finally made the commitment when I went to an information meeting in Tucson. There were two people there who touched me deeply- Gene, one of the cycling coaches, was diagnosed with Lymphoma in 1980. If you know anything about these diseases, the survival rate back then wasn't so hot, but he made it, and he's doing just great, and is SUCH an inspiration to us all.

The other person was Betsy, mother of beautiful Alex, who succumbed to Lymphoma when she was just 13 years old. She stood up and bravely told her story and I sat there and thought "what am I waiting for?", so I signed up and 45 minutes later, I'm sitting numb in my car, on the phone with my boyfriend telling him "I just signed up to run a marathon"......

So, in response to "Why", I guess my answer would be "Why NOT??". If I can raise money to make a difference and to find a cure and provide patient services to people and families with Leukemia and Lymphoma (and other blood cancers), then I waited three years too long. It might be too late for my Granddad and Uncle, but with everyone contributing, we might be able to save someone else's Granddad and Uncle.

Better late than never, right?

And the feeling I'll have when I cross the finish line (somewhere in between pain and nausea), will be the satisfaction of knowing that I could and I did.

So why not?

Ralph Smith

aka Uncle Ralph

-

Ralph Madigan Smith was born on August 5, 1954, in Twin Falls Idaho, the youngest of three siblings, the two older being identical twin sisters, Virginia and Veronica (my Mom).

He was a vibrant boy, the life of the party, fun loving and outgoing. Uncle Ralph also loved to ski (something I also inherited from the Smith side of the family), and spent a lot of time in Sun Valley, and eventually came to memorize the runs like the back of his hand.

After graduating from Pullman High, he went to Evergreen State College where he was editor of the school newspaper and obtained a degree in journalism.

People remember him as a hilarious and very loyal friend. Once you met him you were his friend for life, and this applied to everything he did: later in life he moved to Canada and became a social worker in Children's Services and rescued literally hundreds of children from abusive homes. He was a true champion of the underdog as well as an incredible social activist. He also enjoyed sailing (as in the top picture) and spending time in his cabin on the lake, but most of all he cherished his family: His wife, Maria, stepdaughter Palmira, and youngest daughter Jesse.

In July of 1993, he was diagnosed with Acute Myleogenous Leukemia and immediately began chemo. I remember visiting him in the hospital in Vancouver, B.C., and while the seriousness and magnitude of his disease could be seen and felt, he was always the first to smile (in fact, he was ALWAYS smiling) and say a joke, anything to lighten the mood. Jokes about missing hair and other side effects were always at the top of the list.

Here he is with Jesse.

He fought valiantly, receiving a bone marrow transplant and several other treatments, but sadly he passed away in April of 1994, just four months shy of his 40th birthday.

His wake was filled with family and friends, all coming together to celebrate him and his life. There were lots of jokes and fond memories shared.

Uncle Ralph chose to have Van Morrison's "It's So Quiet in Here" played at his wake. I was in fifth grade when he died, so I'd never even *heard* of Van Morrison, let alone really understand the song. Now that I'm 25, well, it's an awesome song, just like Uncle Ralph. :)

Here are the lyrics:

Foghorns blowing in the night

Salt sea air in the morning breeze

Driving cars all along the coastline

This must be what its all about

Oh this must be what its all about

This must be what paradise is like

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

The warm look of radiance on your face

And your heart beating close to mine

And the evening fading in the candle glow

This must be what its all about

Oh this must be what its all about

This must be what paradise is like

So quiet in here. so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, yeah, so peaceful in here

All my struggling in the world

And so many dreams that dont come true

Step back, put it all away

It dont matter, it dont matter anymore

Oh this must be what paradise is like

This must be what paradise is like

Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here

Its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here

A glass of wine with some friends

Talking into the wee hours of the dawn

Sit back and relax your mind

This must be, this must be, what its all about

This must be what paradise is like

Oh this must be what paradise is like

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

Big ships out in the night

And were floating across the waves

Sailing for some other shore

Where we can be what we wanna be

Oh this must be what paradise is like

This must be what paradise is like

Baby its so quiet in here, so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, so peaceful in here

So quiet in here, you can hear, its so quiet

----------------------------------------------------

And while Uncle Ralph is sorely missed, he is remembered with loving hearts.

Bill Hoggatt

aka Granddad.

December 25, 1923- December 11, 2000.

I will fill in more when I get the chance,.

I don't even know where to start when it comes to talking about him. I got my love for the desert and strong connection to this land from Granddad. He loved to golf (he had THE coolest golf cart- think 1970's and yellow fringe) and he adored gardening, setting up irrigation drips in his backyard to water his cucumbers and tomatoes. In Casa Grande. In the 100+ degree heat.

Granddad was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin Lymphoma in 1985, after several misdiagnoses and several months of symptoms. He underwent chemotherapy and went into remission, however he relapsed two more times (and entered remission two more times). However, on the third relapse, he courageously decided that hospice care was the best option for him. He started home hospice care on December 1, 2000 and passed away 10 days later, on December 11, surrounded by his wife, Katie, and two children, Jim (my dad) and Barbara (Aunt Barbie)

Not a day goes by where I don't think about him and miss him. He was stoic, gentle, smart, and very wise. He also made the best bread- he believed in making it by hand. My sister has inhereted this amazing skill, baking loaves and sharing with friends.

I'd like to share a poem that I read when I first moved down to Arizona, less than a year after he passed away. It's called "Whatever Became of Me" by Richard Shelton, a professor here at the U of A. I think of Granddad whenever I read it.

Please follow this link to read it (I'd copy and paste, but something about copyright infringement, you know...)
http://www.hanksville.org/voyage/desert/Desert9.html

And now some pictures :)

Grandmother and Granddad in Hawaii for their 50th wedding anniversary

This is how I remember him. :)

I think this is a goat.....and I totally dig the pants.

Taken in 1978. This picture is also on my fridge.

Granddad and a baby Elsbeth, taken in 1983 in Bellevue, Washington.

I always got to help blow out the birthday candles. (Birthday cake on Christmas!!)