Tall Tara

This is Day 7 of a 21-Day Salute ™, an attempt to deprive myself of sleep and to express my gratitude for living where I do. I saw these series of posts on The Communicatrix (my very first blog crush) and when I asked, she encouraged me to copy her. Here are 21 days of my favorite products made in Boulder…or very close to Boulder*…

Larabar, oh Larabar, wherefore art thou Larabar?

Normally, around this time of the year (Bolder Boulder/Memorial Day weekend), I have lots of Larabars stashed around the house. We pack them on ski trips, snack on them during backpacking trips and stuff them in our pockets on summit attempts. Larabars seem to have a presence at most of the races I participate in and the small sizes of their samples make for excellent on-the-go munching during long runs.

Flavors of Larabar I love include Cashew Cookie (there are really only two ingredients, cashews and dates, and it seriously tastes like a cookie), Banana Cookie (which almost makes me think that such a thing actually exists) and one of the newer flavors, Coconut Cream Pie (which was easily better than many of the real coconut cream pies I’ve had). I haven’t had the Peanut Butter Cookie yet, but I have a feeling that it will easily join the list of favorites.

I’ll be eating a Larabar tomorrow, probably around mile 4 of the Bolder Boulder and most definitely at the end of the race. If you like the Larabar, what’s your go-to flavor and where have you taken them?

*These are made in Denver, which isn’t too far from Boulder. Interesting side note: This company was bought by General Mills a year ago and I don’t feel like I’ve seen a difference in the product. I consider this a compliment to Larabar.

Ummm…mic check, one, two, one two…

So, right, sorry about my silence. Honestly though, things were a little crazy in February, with less days and my birthday and a comedic presentation and a blogging conference.

There are no good excuses to be made about the blog neglect. But hey, I’m back and attempting to be better than ever. And? I’m getting married tomorrow.

That being said, why in the hell am I writing a blog post on the eve of my elopement? Basically, I am a week overdue in posting my birthday list of what I want to do this year. By sharing it now,  I can cross at least one thing off the list the day after tomorrow. (And if you know me at all, then you know how much I really love crossing things off lists.)

1. more yoga
2. run another marathon
3. elope
4. work on improving my green thumb by growing beans and helping with the community garden
5. pay down credit card debt
6. write more letters
7. perform stand-up at least once a month
8. incorporate strength training into my workout routine
9. reach out to my old friends
10. play another season of Ultimate Frisbee
11. do more push-ups
12. explore new parts of Colorado
13. give more bodywork
14. roller derby!
15. experiment with video
16. get scuba certified
17. blog more
18. learn basics of Photoshop
19. buy more vintage clothing
20. get rid of unnecessary stuff
21. say yes more
22. reach outside of my comfort zone
23. swim
24. throw a kickass wedding party
25. volunteer my time with a cause close to my heart
26. get the tattoo on my ankle redone
27. be sure my loved ones know how I feel about them
28. dance more
29. put money in my savings account every month
30. acknowledge gratitude daily
31. practice compassion
32. forgive and forget
33. learn how to juggle

Let’s see how I do. I promise it will not be another month until my next post. Especially since I’ll have rad pictures of a mod wedding dress to share very soon. (If that’s not a teaser, I don’t know what is…)

*Thanks to Caroline for being a constant source of inspiration and for sharing her own list.

**Somewhat interesting tidbit…Caroline and I have six things in common on our lists (almost twenty percent), which helps to illustrate why we’re friends in the first place.

Back in the day, I really got into documenting all the training I was doing. Whether it was weight workouts, excursions to the climbing gym, or runs around town, I wrote it down. Something about looking at all of my physical activity made me feel good.

I also blame it on not having a coach and being a later-in-life athlete.

In fact, not only did I write it down, I kept it all. Since I never received any awards for the races I ran, the binder represented a trophy of all my athletic achievements and fitness milestones. It contains approximately 4 years worth of training logs. Don’t worry, I’m not going to unload all of that on you but I would like to give you an idea of my OCD around this particular area.

Click to see the ugly details.

I think the records tell an interesting story of what my life was like then and what was important to me. Fast forward a few years and I’m now living more of my life online.  Why not transfer my race record-keeping to a more digital (and eco-friendly) form?  Welcome to my experiment.

I found a free tool that allows me to easily record my training online. There are lots of similar programs out there, but I wanted something that was going to have a dead simple interface without any unnecessary bells and whistles. No reason to make training for a marathon any harder than it already is.

<ulterior motive>In the hopes of keeping myself honest and accountable, I’m putting a link to my public training calendar in my sidebar. Gulp.  Should you ever be curious how I’m doing in working towards my goal of running a marathon, simply click on that link. Double gulp. It’s out there and I’m interested to see if my training transparency does the trick of getting me across the finish line.</ulterior motive>

If making my training calendar public doesn’t prepare me for the marathon I want to run, then five months from now, when I’m woefully unprepared to complete 26.2 miles, you can point to my digital training log and say, “I told you so”.

Yes, Mom, even you.

In the words of Gatorade and Jeremy Tanner, no excuses.

Last month, Adam and I ran our second Denver half-marathon. This is my favorite race distance because it’s the lazy man’s length. It’s long enough to challenge you but not long enough to kill you. (I got a crazy look from a friend when I said that at a recent party.) You can slack off in your training, maybe even drink too much the night before, and still pull off 13.1 miles.

I wanted to do something a little different this year by attempting to document the race in pictures. There were a few challenges because I don’t own a small digital camera and unfortunately buying one of these was not in my budget. So I went with a disposable camera, a running fanny pack (a little better than the tourist kind), and high hopes of catching interesting shots along the way.

[Before actually sharing any pictures, I feel that a few things need to be mentioned. Like how I sometimes forget just how shitty disposable cameras really are. And how horrible I am at holding the camera out at arm's length and trying to get myself in a picture. Finally, despite my wanting them to happen, not many crazy things actually happened during the race.]

So with all that mind, I present you with the Denver Half-Marathon 2008. And to make it even more fun, I’m giving you the pictures in the style of one of my favorites. And don’t ask where the pictures are from the start line. It was too dark.

13.1 miles in 2 hours and 22 minutes, minus the time spent in the Port-A-Potty line.

Beautiful weather, great company and local microbrew afterwards…what more could you want from a race?

(Insert snarky comment here.)

A few things that crossed my mind today:

Denver Half Marathon. I ran it last year when the weather was awful (cold, rainy, miserable) and swore I would never run it again. It appears that the desire for a new challenge has clouded my memory because I just registered for the race and want to beat my time from last year. The six-week training program starts tomorrow morning.

Altitude. As much as I try, I always seem to struggle with it. On a hike up Roger’s Pass yesterday, after sleeping at around 10,000 feet, I started feeling the beginning effects of the altitude around 11,000. Slight dizziness and a headache are indicators for me. I drank a lot of water and had only one wobbly moment, but I made it up to the top of the pass, topping out at 11,900. It frustrates me that my body and my mind can’t be depended on at a certain point. So what do I do? Make plans to summit a fourteener next weekend. The only way to get better at something is to do it more often and like Mountain Gazette says, “When in doubt, go higher.”

Backpacking. Still love doing it and long for the day I can do another long trip. As I hike, I think about how similar the trail is to life. The obstacles you encounter, instead of hindering you, can actually help you progress down your path. You carry what you need on your back and if you bring too much, you end up hurting yourself. Picking good company to walk with is important in insuring you have fun when it rains. There is something about being able to pump your own water, catch your own dinner, and survive a storm that makes you stronger.

Gossip Girl. I can’t believe how excited I got for the premiere of a TV show. That isn’t Lost. I came out of the GG closet tonight and showed my fiance the (dark? shallow? trashy?) side of me that LOVES this show. After watching it with me, he called it a teenage version of Sex and the City. And he’s not too far off. What can I say? A girl’s gotta have her guilty pleasures and I cannot get enough of Chuck Bass.

Good sauce. However you define the good stuff, I had lots of it this weekend. Pushing my body to achieve more. Playing cribbage. Eating fish caught out of a nearby lake. Drinking hot chocolate and laughing. Disconnecting from technology and reconnecting with friends. Napping in a tent while it rains outside.

There’s nothing better than a three-day weekend to remind you what all that labor is for…

We came into the tournament seeded sixth. Eight hours and many points later, we emerged as the B league champions. (And yes, we are named after a children’s book. See our mascot in the bottom right of our team picture below.)

This was my first season back after not playing ultimate frisbee for five years. I spent the majority of the season dusting off my skills, remembering how to play, getting my ass kicked by faster girls, and making mistakes. However, something clicked for me at the tournament and I played the best ultimate I’ve ever played. (I think everyone on the team was pleasantly surprised.)

Our team played four games in a row, beating the #1 and #3 ranked teams along the way. The beauty of a tourney situation is that it’s more of an endurance event than anything else. While there is a lot of strategy that goes into tournament playing, it really boils down to who is left standing at the end of the game. You have to push yourself harder and play when you’re beaten up. I had a mid-air collision with a big guy, a girl come down on my ankle with her cleat and I tumbled to the ground for the disc a few times. (And I was one of the LEAST physical players on our team!) People on my team were taking hits left and right, dusting themselves off and getting right back into the game. It was awe-inspiring, and slightly masochistic, seeing everyone fling themselves around the field. *

The beauty of playing a game, like Ultimate, with a group of others is that you become part of something larger than yourself. Besides the mental challenges, you have the physical challenges to deal with as well. Can I endure another point? Are there any girls to sub in for me? How am I going to survive ANOTHER game? Maybe it’s because I’ve been an individual sport gal for so long, but I had forgotten what it was like to be a part of a team, working hard together, sweating and bleeding to accomplish the unthinkable.

Our team consisted of a father-son combo (also the oldest and youngest members of the league), two brothers (one a national ultimate champion and the other our coach), a husband-wife, and two boyfriend-girlfriend duos. It was definitely a family affair and my belief that these connections added something deeper to our team, in terms of experience and trust while on the field. When Jake, the 18-year old, threw the disc to his dad in the end zone for a goal, I got chills. I have to thank everyone on Clifford for the continued guidance and help as I was figuring out my way around the field.** And many thanks for yelling at me from the sidelines as well. (Especially when I wasn’t asking for help. Matt, you’ve drilled it into me.)

At its most basic, we play for the fun of the game. The competition rekindles feelings of youth. You scream for your team, race until you can’t breathe, write cheers for the other team, and score points together. Ultimate players are geeky big kids and we certainly aren’t getting paid to play. (In fact, we pay the league a registration fee to play.) But when everyone is running around together on the field and a beautiful play comes together, everything makes sense. I lost myself in the moment, in the game, and in the season. Thanks Clifford for making my first season back a championship one!

*The day after the tournament, I was seriously sore in places I haven’t been in a long time. Every vertebrae in my spine, my rib cage, deep in my elbow joints…but surprisingly not my legs. That started two days after the tourney.

**Everyone on the team helped me, but I owe a lot to Julie Penner. Her unwavering confidence in me, screams of encouragement, and pre-game drills made all the difference. Our time on the field together gave me an opportunity to get to know her better and I feel like ultimate strengthened our friendship. Not to mention the fact that she’s an amazing athlete and I just loved watching her play. Thanks a lot Penner…you rock.

When I first started, I was a smoker, only doing it for a boy I was dating. I didn’t have any intention of continuing on with it, but something happened. The way it made me feel alive, present in the moment and meditative all at the same time…I couldn’t resist it’s lure. This year marks my ten-year anniversary of doing it. Yep, I’m a runner. (And one of those annoying ones who gushes about the “runner’s high” and loves talking to other runners about things like shoes!)

Running in my mid-twenties was a time of training hard. You could say I got a little OCD on the documentation aspect of it all. I loved keeping notes about my workouts and planning for the next event. This kind of behavior was perfect for race build-up, so I entered lots and lots of races. There was something about the high of race morning and the feeling of accomplishment afterwards. Plus, I really loved wearing the race shirts. Maybe it was because I’d never done any sports in high school but I geeked out on running hard.

My first marathon was a humbling experience. I made it halfway, to mile 13, when I heard a sound come from my knee. This happened on an uphill overpass and when I slowed to a walk at an aid station, I knew something was wrong. I tried to start running again and couldn’t do it. Walking was painful and yet the thought of dropping out of the race was almost more painful. All that training wasted.

I was talked out of not continuing on with the race and received my first DNF (Did Not Finish). The doctor diagnosed it as “runner’s knee”, or officially, chrondomalacia of the patella. After being fit for a brace and told that I couldn’t run for four months, I attended physical therapy, learned lots about my knee, and figured out I was doing everything wrong during my marathon training. Running on banked surfaces and not doing any lower-body strength training were my culprits. Talk about learning a lesson the hard way.

It’s never been about the speed for me. I know some runners who are always striving for that faster mile, convinced that hours of interval training will shave off that last thirty seconds in a race. Not me. I’m just happy to be running, feeling my body move and trying to find the right pace to put me in the zone. Depending on time of day, location of run or a number of different factors, that can mean a slow, easy saunter or a high-paced, long-striding gallop. However, it never means I’m fast. After ten years of doing it, I’m not going to get any faster. And I’m okay with that.

Now that I’m in my thirties, running has continued to evolve along with me. Where it used to be about pushing myself and ignoring the pain, it’s now more about pain management and listening to my body. I hear what my knees are telling me, I breathe into my muscles and I engage my core. It may sound silly but these are the things that keep me going mile after mile and insure that I’ll be able to continue to run for a few more decades.

Besides my running anniversary, I’ve had running on my brain since I finalized my summer race schedule and started “officially” training. I’m not as OCD about keeping track of my workouts as I used to be; now, like so much of my life, it’s online. While I don’t have any marathons planned for this season, I am looking forward to doing some new races (a triathlon in Salida) and continuing my tradition of old favorites (5th year for the Bolder Boulder baby). I can’t wait to log more miles, collect more race shirts and rock it hard in my favorite running skirt.