Lynch Life: 2011

My wonderful husband got me a NOOK for Chistmas and the book "RUN LIKE A MOTHER." I realize some people think I'm a bit crazy for all the running I do, considering how little time I have and how much I complain about the number of hours there are in the day (we need at least five more.) I devoured the book and was inspired to write about why I run. I haven't blogged in a long time, but I wanted this on record. Here goes....

I always thought of myself as a failed runner. In middle school my dad made me sign up for cross country to “build my self confidence.” Ever supportive, he was there at each race videotaping my close-to-or-dead-last finishes, even the day when I got lost in the woods and clocked a 60+ minute 5K. I loved being outside and enjoyed the team comraderie, but I quit running in 10th grade when things started to get competitive and I didn’t have the drive to get any faster. I rarely exercised throughout high school and college and put on a solid 20 pounds that stuck. I moved to the DC area after college and met a co-worker who ran marathons. That sounded like a good way to lose that weight I’d put on in my six sedentary years – so I signed up for Team in Training’s Honolulu Marathon and vowed to go from 0 to 26.2 in four months. At first I was loving it, losing ten pounds easily and actually looking forward to long runs with new workout girlfriends. Three months in, however, I had only acquired $400 of the $2900 I needed to fundraise in order to participate – on a teacher’s salary I was not going to be able to pony up the remainder – in addition to a nasty case of plantar fasciaitis. Humiliated, I returned the donation checks to my generous friends and family and put away my running shoes. For good, I thought.

Flash forward five years. During that time I took a year off of teaching, moved to Europe where I met my husband (who is not European, but Australian), and finally quit the only job I’d known (and loved!) outside of college to support him through a two year graduate degree in the Midwest. My new job was not my old job, and quite frankly I was miserable. I was already overweight from five years of absolutely no exercise, and I consoled myself with ice cream and chocolate. Oh yes, and Wellbutrin. When the yearbook proofs came back in November and I saw myself in a pose with my class where my hands were over my head and extra 30 pounds on my 5 foot 4 frame was blaringly exposed, something inside me snapped. I drove to Barnes and Noble on the way home and grabbed the book Running for Womenby Claire Kowalchick and read it cover to cover. It changed my life. I started with the 0 to 30 minutes of running in 10 weeks program and followed it religiously. I found that although I still wasn’t very happy at work, I had something else to focus on. I joined a running club at the gym and trained for the Indianapolis Mini Marathon in May. I joined a marathon training group and signed up for Chicago – and convinced my father to do it with me. We crossed the finish line holding hands in 4:36:58. A moment I will never forget.

When my husband finished graduate school and we returned to the DC area, I took my newfound love of running with me. I ran three marathons during that first year back, always running “to finish” (but did manage to break 4:30), and became pregnant with Susanna soon after that race. Everything I read told me to keep on running and so I did. Though I had started running to lose those extra pounds, it had become so much more. A stress outlet. A social outlet (long runs with my girlfriends, or “the sistas” as we dubbed ourselves.) A mood stabilizer. During those nine months I did the Baltimore Half Marathon, the Marine Corps 10K, and plenty of shorter races. I got lots of stares of bewilderment and “Are you sure you should be doing this?” She was 9 days past due and I kept running right until the day I finally went into labor. She was born a healthy 7 lbs 4 oz and a remarkably calm baby.

In the next 18 months, I continued to run “to finish” races. I didn’t really train, I just ran – at least three times a week, but with no specific goal other than distance. I completed a couple of half marathons with pretty pitiful times and clocked my worst marathon time to date (in my defense, I had nursing-induced osteopenia which contributed to a stress fracture at mile 17, and I hobbled to the finish. At least I finished, right? My podiatrist told me I shouldn’t have!) Unable to run for 6 weeks, I started swimming and biking and of course was bitten by the triathlon bug. It started with the DC Sprint Triathlon in June and somehow turned into an Olympic distance in August and a Half Iron Man in September. I got pregnant a week later.

I had already registered for the Marine Corps Marathon, so at eight weeks pregnant I figured I’d be fine if I took it easy. I finished the race doing a combo of walking and running and was feeling like a superstar, until I started bleeding three days later. I was convinced I had killed my baby and cried all the way to the ultrasound clinic where I was sure they would tell me I’d miscarried. Instead they showed me a healthy baby waving at me, and a blood clot. A subchorionic hemorrhage. No exercise allowed until it resolved. Nothing I did caused the blood clot, they told me, but exercise could irritate it. Great. I didn’t tell them I’d irritated it for well over 5 hours just a few days prior.

I soon realized how much I relied on running as a prescription for sanity. I became irritated, depressed and quite frankly a total grouch. They did another ultrasound at 13 weeks and gave me the go ahead to resume normal activities. After five weeks on the couch, I was thrilled to lace up my runners and dash outside for a two mile jog… and four hours later I was bleeding again. No exercise allowed until the 20 week ultrasound. Those 7 weeks were excruciating for me. With the stress fracture months prior, I still had the pool and the bike to keep me sane. I can’t believe I went through the first 27 years of my life without exercising because this was now torture. I also can’t believe my husband didn’t sell me on Ebay. At the end of January they did a high level ultrasound and verified that not only did my baby look healthy and have male parts, but the subchorionic hemorrhage was gone. Gone gone gone. “Are you sure?” I asked the radiologist about 13 times. And then I went home and laced up my runners again. I only did a half mile. No blood. The next day I did a mile. No blood. After a month and no bleeding, I started doing “longish” runs on the weekend. I was happy again. And my husband decided to keep me. Jack was born at 38 weeks about 12 hours after a 5 miler. He was healthy and gorgeous.

And that’s just the beginning. I really need to write a whole new chapter on the six months since he has been born. Because somehow with two kids and a full time job, I have learned that not running isn’t an option. I am too busy. I don’t get enough sleep. But I get my runs in, or I go crazy. Going from one child to two is a much bigger jump than I imagined, and I have to coordinate my workouts with my husband’s schedule or they don’t happen. Because of that I’ve become really focused on “quality” runs – a speed session, a tempo session, a long run, and shorter recovery jobs on the off days. I noticed a couple months ago that I was able to squeeze 5 miles into my 45 minute post-work run sessions – never had that happened before. The pace on my GPS was dropping dropping dropping. For fun, I signed up for a Turkey Trot five miler and finished in under 41 minutes. WHAT?!?!? I was shocked. So I decided to see if I could do my 13 mile training run the next weekend in under 2 hours. And I did, just barely. All by my lone self, and on a trail, with the last mile uphill. I’m not one to make race goals because I know I’d be devastated if I didn’t meet them, so I just said I wanted to finish a half marathon in under 2 hours. Someday.

Almost six months to do the day Jack was born, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and drove an hour south all by myself to run a little half marathon that I told myself wasn’t a big deal – just a little get in shape motivation race I registered for because it was only $39, within driving distance, and would give me a nice tech shirt to wear through the winter. When I hit the 5K in 24:16, I started to get excited. I was pretty sure I’d meet the 2 hour goal. And when I crossed the finish line and my watch said 1:51:44, I didn’t know what to think. I ran a half marathon when I was 5 months post partum with Susanna, and finished third to last (we were in Australia and though my 2:17 time would probably have been midrange back home, those competitive Aussies don’t race unless they mean it ) – how had I managed to shave my time by a whopping 26 minutes? And 15 minutes better than my personal best? Never in my wildest dreams did I think this possible. I was 6th out of 34 in my age group. Not a slowpoke anymore. That was three weeks ago and I’m still on a high, even if no one else cares.

So what’s next? Well, I’m not one for time goals, at least not outwardly spoken. I have a
marathon coming up in March, and my goal is to be as ready as I can. For now I’m going to make sure I do my 16 miler tomorrow morning, and come home a calmer happier mama.