Snow Canyon Repeat 11.6.10

Best Race Ever.

Loved it.

LOVED it.

Gorgeous course.

Good friends (and family!)

Perfect race weather.

And blew my PR out of the water!  So exciting.  Every mile, I just thought, "Really?  I'm feeling this good?  Really?  I can go a little faster?  Okay, then, I WILL."  I felt blessed and grateful and happy happy happy.

And everybody else was fast, too.

It was a very very good day.

Feeling Awesome

My street is just off of a crazy hill. To run any distance at all, I have to either drive somewhere or face the hellishness that is my hill. One mile. Up. Way up. Straight up. (And after you get up the hill, there are still lots of hills, but nothing even close to Hell Hill.)

When I moved in, I decided I hated the hill. I had to walk at least four times on the way up.

A few months later, I still hated the hill. I had to walk at least three times on the way up.

Eight months later, I still hate the hill. Until today, I walked at least twice on the way up.

BUT...

I made a goal that in 2010 I would tackle the hill. I would make it up that darned hill without stopping once.

And guess what happened this morning?

Yup. You guessed it. I KILLED HELL HILL. I killed it.

It's not like running a race. There's no one to celebrate with me at the finish line. No one's handing me a medal.

But I've learned something about myself in the process. The hill stopped me from wanting to run at the beginning of the move. I cursed it. I complained about it.

And then I decided that since the mountain is here, I need to learn to live with it. I ran it in the sleet, the wind and the snow. I tried to push myself further every time I ran it. And eight months later, I am stronger than I was when I moved here.

I know the take-home lesson. I know it's a little trite. But it's also very true: We can't get stronger without challenges. Sometimes the challenges totally suck. But sometimes we manage to grow because of them, and find ourselves at the top of our mountains with our lungs burning and our hearts full of celebration.

Yay me!

My Shoes 4.13.10

I've found a running partner. This is a blessing, because without knowing someone is out waiting for me at 6:30 I might have a rough time forcing myself out of bed these winter mornings. I know the calendar says it's spring, but I've run in plenty of snow this month, so I'm going to stick with winter.

I hop out of bed, brush my teeth, throw on my contacts and my running clothes, stick my Garmin in the window to pick up the satellite, and tie my shoes. Then I meet my neighbor and we choose our route for the morning.

Thank goodness for running friends. I miss Liz (and Bliss and Jenn) dreadfully, but I'm grateful for Tiernae and the many mornings of running into the dawn ahead of us.

Just Plain Crazy

I'm pretty burned out on the running thing. Getting this thousand mile thing finished just may kill me. And once I hit that 1000th mile, I may never want to run again.

So why did I just sign up Team Youngberg for the Southern California Ragnar? And why am I so excited about it?

Yes. Just plain crazy.

But honestly...running from Santa Barbara to Dana Point with my siblings and their spouses? It's going to be awesome. Or at least it will be memorable. Hopefully, it will be both.

Gross

Two months (less two days) ago I ran a marathon. Today I received a lovely post-marathon gift.

I lost my first toenail.

In case you were wondering (or worrying), my toenail (or lack thereof) will not be my picture of the day. You can thank me for that however you like. Cookies are always accepted.

Top of Utah, or Yes, Indeed, I Ran a Marathon

Who would have believed it? Certainly not me. I remember some very specific discussions about how running a marathon was NOT on my to-do list. Lots of half marathons? Sure. But a full marathon? 26.2 miles? Come on. Why would I ever want to do something so physically exhausting? And isn't it bad for your body? And surely it would never be right to take so much time away from my family to train.

So how did I find myself on a school bus leaving Logan at 5:20 on Saturday morning with four friends to meet our marathoning destinies?

Well, it just so happens that I made this little goal at the beginning of the year to run 1000 miles in 2009. This is not really that many miles. It's only 20 miles a week, which is 20 miles a week more than I ran 4 years ago, but still. I've been staying pretty close to my weekly mileage goal, especially with training for the Salt Lake Half and then the Wasatch Back. But what next? Liz decided it was Top of Utah. She tried to talk me into it. I thought about it. I kicked it around. I decided against it. And once I decided against it, I changed my mind.

Reasons:

1. I was already high in my mileage for long runs to train for Ragnar.
2. Training for a marathon would assure that I met my 1000 mile goal.
3. I would have been jealous of Liz and Bliss training together while I did measly 6 mile Saturday runs.
4. I needed something to get my mind off of the moving thing.
3. God told me to.

Yeah, He really did, but that's a post for another time.

Here are things I learned while training:

1. I'm slower than Liz and Bliss.
2. I really like meeting new people while running with them. They become close friends in the space of one 16 miler.
3. No subject is off-limits as running talk. And running talk turns way too often to poop. (That's for you, L.)
4. You can get used to getting up at 6 to run, even on weekdays.
5. I am more capable of doing hard things than I ever thought I was.
6. Immodium is my best non-human running friend. 2 chewable tablets (yuck) 2 hours before each long run with 1/2 a banana, 1/4 of a bagel, and a big glass of water: totally works. I just put it all on my nightstand, set my alarm for 4:00, woke up and ate while David groaned "What are you DOING?" and cheered for victory at the end of all my long runs. I know. Way more than you wanted to know. But it's a public service announcement for all of you aspiring marathoners. You'll thank me.
7. Yes on Bodyglide. Yes on sunscreen. Yes on Sports Beans. And by the end, even yes on Gus (plural of Gu, not Gus the mule.)
8. You know how you would think you'd lose weight when you're running almost 40 miles a week? Yeah. You'd be wrong. Liz lost weight. I gained what she lost. It's very sick and wrong. It's a cosmic joke. And yet there it is. I'm warning you. (Interestingly, although it bothered me that I gained weight, I was so proud of what my body was accomplishing every week that I cared less than I would have expected.)
9. You will be struck with some non-imaginary ailment in the week or two before the race. Liz warned us. We did not believe her. But every one of us had some terrible, tragic pain to deal with that looked like it might end our race dreams. I had the WORST BACK PAIN of my life in the week before the race. I was referred to a physical therapist by an ultra-runner friend and he worked a miracle. On Tuesday, I really thought I wouldn't be able to run, and by Saturday morning (after doing the stretches he recommended) I had NO back pain. None. Hooray for Troy Marsh.

So a few short months after deciding that yes, indeed, I'd run that crazy race, Bliss, Liz & I drove up to Logan with Bliss' family. We stayed overnight with Bliss' mom and dad. Our friend Jenn joined us at the house for a big fat slumber party, and we picked up our friend Jena at her hotel dark and early the next morning.

And here's how it went:

The race started at Hardware Ranch, up Blacksmith Fork Canyon. The first 14 miles or so were downhill, but not terribly steep. The canyon was gorgeous. The leaves were just starting to turn, the weather was perfect, the river was lovely. It was a fantastic beginning. I had planned to really pace myself. I knew I'd be tempted to push the pace since it was downhill (and I love downhill), but I also knew I'd have 12 more miles to go once the downhill ended. So within the first half mile, I waved goodbye to the rest of the girls and settled in with Mr. iPod to run the duration of the race.

The first 18 miles were actually really great. My halfway mark was a minute faster than my half marathon PR. I loved seeing Liz's husband Jeff and her boys at mile 14. They gave me an emotional boost and I felt great. I stayed mostly under 9:30 for each mile, with a couple in the 9:40 range. and a few in the 9:10-15 range. Mile 18-21 were harder. I ended up passing Jena, whose knee was starting to really give out. I ran with her for a little while, but ended up pushing ahead.

I drank water at every stop, so I felt hydrated throughout. I ate a sports bean at every mile that wasn't a water stop and ended up having 3 gus (at miles 9, 19, and 22) and a few chunks of banana. (I know. You totally don't care about what I ate. Unless you're about to run your first marathon, in which case this information is ridiculously fascinating.) All was going as planned.

And then came the wall. I mean, you hear about The Wall. And then you Experience The Wall. I think it was when I got to 21 and I realized that I still had more than 5 miles to go, and that would likely be close to an hour more running based on how I was feeling. That just sounded awful. Terrible. So hard. And so it was. 22 and 23 were dreadfully hard. I just felt so so drained. I ended up walking two or three times per mile, but by 24, I realized that starting to run again after walking was harder than just continuing to run. I dropped my pace significantly, still walked through the water stops, but tried to just put one foot in front of the other.

The world shrinks at this point. The world becomes you, your pain, and your desire to end the pain. I just focused on wanting to see David, to see my kids, to see the finish line.

I know! Doesn't it sound fun?!?! It really was!!! (OK, it wasn't fun. But it was remarkable.)

And then, after thinking it would never come, there was the finish line. It was there. In front of me. Way too far away, but it was there. And I made it. I powered through and burst into tears at the end. My music was blaring so I didn't even hear my family and Liz and Jeff screaming for me. David says I just looked mad. I wasn't mad. I was just miserable.

I had really only had one main goal. I had really wanted to stay under 10 minute miles throughout. That's not impressive when you're Liz (4 hours and 6 seconds!) or Bliss (4 hours and 21 seconds!), but it felt like it would push me but be barely do-able. And when I looked at my watch when it was all over (26.44 miles, according to Mr. Garmin. Darned tangents.), it said that my overall pace was 9:59. I felt like I was handed a gift from Heavenly Father. (Again, a post for another time.)

I cried when I saw David. I cried when I realized I was moving this week and wouldn't live across the street from my Liz. And I smiled a lot. A lot.

Because you know what? I just ran a marathon.

Yup. Me. I did that.

Well, me and Liz and Bliss and Jenn and Jenna. And you know what?

It was awesome.








Final Stats: Time: 4:23:37. Place: 1010/2027 overall, 393/1009 women. Satisfied? Yes.

Facing the Fear

So I was pretty freaked about my long run last week. The unknown...it can be a little unnerving, can't it?

I didn't sleep well. I set my alarm for 4:15 to eat a little, drink some water, and take some Imodium (don't ask), then I went back to sleep, or what might pass for sleep, until 5:40. I had many nightmares of the running variety...making everyone wait, missing the meeting place or time, running in strange places.

And then I woke up, strapped on my watch and did it. Not only did I do it, I kind of blew my expectations out of the water. I kept my pace slow enough that I made it to sixteen miles instead of the fourteen I'd planned and didn't even feel wiped out.

Dang. It was really cool.

So last night I wasn't as freaked. And today Liz and I hit seventeen, including some wicked hills, and I picked up the pace just a teeny bit.

It was really cool.

I think a little fear never hurts. It kind of keeps things interesting, anyway, and it lets me know that I'm trying something new, something a little out of my comfort zone.

So hooray for you, fear. I'll be expecting you the night before the marathon. And then we'll have to figure out another way to shake things up, because, well, I'd rather hang with a little fear than a lot of boredom.

My New Dilemma

To marathon or not to marathon.

That is really the question.

Wasatch Back 2009

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

The parts:

12 girls.
2 vans (OK, one van and one SUV).
188 miles.
30 hours and 43 minutes.
Gatorade.
Little sleep.
Lots of cheering.
Bagels and cold pizza.
Hills and valleys and cities and pastures.
Crazy Utah weather.

The whole:

Amazing.
Inspiring.
Hysterical.
Overwhelming.
Hot.
Cold.
Dry.
Wet.
Exhausting.
Painful.
Blissful.

Mostly blissful.




This was not really about running really fast or trying to get a PR (good thing, too, or I would be disappointed). This was about pushing ourselves further than we thought we could and learning a lot about ourselves and our teammates in the process.

I was so impressed with the women I ran with. Our van was supportive and happy and funny and kind and interesting. Malisa survived on 30 minutes of sleep, did almost all of the driving, and cheered on Marianne through her nearly 10 miles in the middle of the night when the rest of us had crashed. Marianne ran those 10 with a migraine, and kept a good attitude. Cody and Malisa had never run distances before. Cody had an amazing climb, which she did with a smile. Malisa nailed her climb at 1:30 am. Mindy didn't seem to mind hanging with a bunch of women over 30, and had the best deep, dark secret by far. And Christa was just an animal. AMAZING. Fast. And funny.

When we met Van 1 at our first exchange, it looked as if none of them had run a mile. They looked gorgeous and maybe just a little bit tired. Julie ran up a dusty nasty hill and her hair looked better than mine ever does. Katie has a nursing baby and fed her at various points on the trail, and still managed to conquer a crazy hill on Saturday. Marysa fought bronchitis through the whole race. Tricia was always smiling, and man, that girl has biceps. And Bliss and Liz...what can I say about these two? I can say this. They both ran more than 18 miles for their own legs, but then when we got to Guardsman Pass, they jumped in our van to help support us. Liz ran with Marianne up part of her leg, and then they each hopped out and ran part of the way with me to help pace me. I know I was a little bit wacky and was talking all crazy philosophical junk and they just let me ramble on and on. Strong, beautiful women with huge hearts. And Liz, my co-captain...what a woman. I am blessed to be her friend. She ran with Marianne and me, like I said, but also with Tricia and Mindy. That is some huge team spirit.

So it all boils down to this. I started up Ragnar (my last leg, the second half of Guardsman Pass. 1700 foot gain over 4 miles. Gorgeous but nasty.), realizing that I wasn't going to be able to run the whole thing, but recognizing that it was OK, that I had worked hard to get there, and that my best effort was going to be enough. I've struggled with some internal battles in the last year. I have this crazy perfectionist in my head that keeps trying to convince me that I'm not quite there yet, that my efforts are not quite enough. As I ran and hiked, climbing this mountain, my iPod started playing "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard. The rain was falling, my feet were moving through the mud, and the music said:

"You have struggled enough
And warred with yourself.
It's time that you won."

Some big ol' cosmic yes welled up inside. All of the planning, all of the worry, all of the early morning training...it was all for that one moment. Will I forget this lesson? Oh, yeah, probably by next week. But one day, maybe it will sink in.

And here are some more Wasatch Back pictures:

Wasatch Back, Here We Come...

So tomorrow (oops, I mean today. Better go to bed...) is the day I've been waiting for. Three years ago, pregnant with Ben, I got a flyer about some crazy relay all through the backcountry of northern Utah. That was it for me. Love at first sight. Why did it take me so long to actually do something about it? Life. It gets in the way sometimes.

But the Wasatch Back and I have been destined to get together. And I've pulled in some of my favorite people and some people I'm just getting to know to join me on this adventure. By the end of this weekend, I think we'll know each other all too well. And that's good, right?

Our team name started out as the Sugarhouse Sistah Wives. Liz and I thought we were very clever. We could go with french braids, high poofs, and floral running skirts for our team costumes. After all, I do have experience in this style...


(DId I seriously just post that again? Yup.)

But somehow the name didn't thrill the rest of the team. What? You didn't want to drive in a van with "Plyg Rig" on the back? OK. Fine.

So we went with White Lightning. This is very funny. Do you get it? First of all, we're all pretty white. Well, I'M pretty white. I'm the Whitest Lightning. See. I'm very funny. And also, we're not really fast. Isn't this so funny? You're totally getting it, right? Irony? We're s.l.o.w....so it'd be like calling Liz "Shorty" and me "Tally." Except "Tally" isn't a good nickname, is it?

Oh my goodness, I need to go to bed.

Anyway, brilliant Julie thought that we'd better make the irony clear, so she designed a snail out of a lightning bolt to paint on the two cars. She didn't want anyone to think that we really thought we were lightning fast, and I must say I agree with her. It would be pretty sad for someone to be excited to see how quickly I can run up Guardsman Pass simply because I'm from a team called White Lightning. Because I can not run up Guardsman Pass very quickly.

Maybe I should also draw a whisky bottle crossed out to make it clear that we don't like moonshine.

Tonight we decorated cars and sized up the equipment, not to mention each other. White van or silver van? How many coolers? Theme song? Who suffers from motion sickness and has to sit up front? Who draws the best lightning bolts (that would be Malisa. Sorry, Marianne.)? Who wants to pick up the cold pizza tomorrow?

And now I go off to bed... I should probably have done that before I wrote this post. I'm a little delirious.

I'll report after I get home. And take a shower. And eat. And sleep.

What Was I Thinking?

I'm not great at planning things. I'm also not great at seeing things to completion. So what was I thinking, being the team captain for this crazy race?

It hasn't been too much work, and I've felt on top of things almost the whole way through. This, in and of itself, is rather remarkable. But this week is crunch time, and I'm just sure something important will fall through the cracks. Oh well, hopefully everyone will just be all chill about it and we'll just have a fantastic time. I'm getting so excited that I'm starting to dream about it.

So back to work...we have to find first aid kits, and coolers, and funny things to write on our windows, and good food to eat after a 5 am run, and sleeping bags, and sunscreen, and reflective vests...

Don't you wish you were running with us? You know you do.

Maybe next year...

The Race

I just checked out my official race pictures from the half marathon on Saturday. You know, the ones the photographers take all along the route, including at the finish line, then post in hopes you'll spend a fortune on multiple poster-size pictures of yourself to hang all over your house? Yeah, those. Let me just say two words:

Truly Terrifying.

If that is how I look when I run, I may never run again. And no, I won't post a link. I am red-faced, white-armed, exhausted, sweaty, and scary. I look like I may just keel over at any moment. Somehow, when I picture myself running, I imagine that I have a lovely long stride, look ever-fresh, athletic, young and beautiful, and my face shows my glee to have the opportunity to enjoy the beauties of nature. The truth is hard to take.

But the race, overall, was a great experience. I love running with Liz, and she is an amazing friend. She stayed with me until I totally bonked and FORCED her to go on at about mile 10. It took much convincing, but she finally listened to her older, wiser (ahem) friend.

Good memories of the race: Seeing our friend Lesa before the race. Seeing how many thousands of people have worked so hard to accomplish a goal. Loving that the weather FINALLY turned decent. Conversations with Liz. Passing more people than last time. Turning onto 2700 South and seeing our families and friends cheering us on (what a joy). Powering up the hill on State Street and deciding that my hillwork has indeed paid off. Finishing almost 10 minutes faster than my PR. Malisa and Daniel finding us after the race after her very first 5K (which she did pushing her daughter in a stroller. Way to go, Malisa.) Seeing David, Sophie, my nephew Bryan (who finished his first half with multiple 2-inch blisters, but still managed a great time) and his family. Being reminded of what a gorgeous gorgeous valley I live in.

Not as good memories of the race: Really, just having to take a pitstop at 7-11 (yes, 7-11. Don't mock me.), feeling totally crummy for a couple of miles and not being able to make it under 2. Next time maybe I'll figure out how to avoid tummy troubles and I'll bury my PR again. Oh, and although I know Liz really meant it when she said she wanted to stay with me, I wish I'd made her leave a mile earlier, because then she would have made her goal. But she is truly a remarkable friend, and I am so grateful for her. (Oh, and she was even on the news. Maybe she won't talk to me anymore now that she's famous.)

In the middle of the race, I wondered why I do this when it feels so hard. And then I finished and knew I'd do it again. Some kind of crazy, I guess.

I Just Can't Stay Away

I'm back. Yes, I'm needing hardcore practice time, but I don't spend THAT much time on the blog, and I miss spewing my thoughts into cyberspace. It must be the narcissist in me.

Updates since my last post:

Josh is STILL SICK. He is on his twelfth day of fever. TWELVE DAYS. I have gone far beyond good sick mom. I am now Great Sick Mom. I am Marathon Sick Mom. But I'm also so aware of my blessings. We went back to the doctor on Saturday, since he took a turn for the worse, and all I could think after the chest x-rays, throat swab, ear check, and blood work came back normal was how grateful I am that I'm not dealing with a terrible, chronic illness with this sweet boy. I have friends whose children have had cancer and other life-threatening diseases, and I admire them with all my heart. Seeing Josh limp and weak on the couch has wrenched my heart. When I imagine him hooked up to machines in a hospital, it tears it in half. Missing 8 days of school at the end of term...not good. Knowing he'll return to good health soon enough...all good.

Ben. He's trouble. Have I already said "We're talking about trouble, my friends, with a capital T and that rhymes with B and that stands for Ben?" Yes? Well, his terrible twos have come early. Last week I made a beautiful pot of beef barley soup with gorgeous shredded beef. We ate it for dinner, but I made plenty for leftovers. The next day, I heard the dog making some suspicious noises in the kitchen. I went upstairs and screamed. Ben had opened the fridge, taken out the container of soup, opened the lid, and put it on the floor for the dog to eat. Thank you, Ben. The leftovers were gone, and I had to deal with my dog's stomach problems later that day. Nice. He has started pinching, hitting, climbing, and demanding his own way. Where did my angel Benno go?

Ben. He's also very cute and very charming. When he asks for something and I give it to him, he says, "Thank you much." He gives hugs and kisses liberally and loves to read books.

I had my sister-in-law Ashleigh's shower here on Saturday (although I didn't throw it. Her sister and friend did, and did a way better job than I would have.) She's a great and wonderful person and will be a darling mom. I can not wait to meet their little man.

I've ordered my recital outfit...hope it fits! Can't wait! Have to find shoes! And figure out my hair!

My runs are getting faster and faster! I can hardly believe it. Running with my faster buddies and doing speedwork is paying off. I did 3.1 on Friday in UNDER NINE MINUTE MILES. This is big, my friends, big. I know many many people are much much faster, and I shouldn't be so excited, but I am, darn it. Yee Haw! Even my long runs and hilly runs are faster than I ever thought I'd be. Visualization is a powerful tool.

I'm using lots of exclamation points! Wow!

And that part about running was really braggy, but I'm leaving it in anyway, because I'm just THAT excited about it.

My Running Secrets

Isn't that the funniest title of any post I've ever written? I mean, honestly! The nerve! Like I have any secrets? And like I should be giving any advice on running?

However...

I have some friends who have recently put on the running shoes, and since it hasn't been all that long since I started my running (ahem...my father would say "Are you really running? Or is it more like jogging?") passion, I thought I might share some of what I've learned on the trail. Or on the pavement. Or around the park. Or wherever.

1. Get your running shoes from a running store. I love Salt Lake Running Company. They helped me find the right shoes and insoles to avoid the shin splints that plagued me every other time I'd tried running in earnest. And they have never laughed at me. I love that in a store.

2. Choose a race and train for it. It's too easy to get bogged down in how bad the first couple of months feels. Honestly, hitting my first 2 miles straight both exhilarated me and made me want to puke. Having a race to train for helped me look past the pain and misery and torment and have a goal.

3. Find friends and convince them that you'd be a good running partner because of your sparkling wit and the fact that you make good chocolate cookies. Or whatever your talents might be. Then let the pressure of friends waiting on the corner for you help get your rear out of bed at whatever dark and crazy hour you decide you'll run together. You'll discover the joy of running therapy. There's nothing better than working out all of life's problems on a 10 miler with good friends

4. Keep track of your time running and your mileage. It makes you feel so virtuous. And awesome. I love adding my months' totals on the calendar. It doesn't sound exciting, does it? But it is...

5. Running clothes? Yes. Do it. Don't feel silly in running shorts. Even if you get a comment like I did from a passing car: "You really should get a tan." All my comebacks came to me when I reached the next street. Like, "You really should get some manners." Or "Because I really care about impressing you?" Oh, yeah, but back to running shorts. They're good. But maybe I'll look for some longer ones this year, because, you know, I really should get a tan.

6. Look at Runner's World. It's fun. It makes you feel like part of a brotherhood or sisterhood, even if you're slow.

7. Oh, and about being slow. Slow is relative. Slow for you is what you did last month. Fast for you is what you do next month. Don't compare yourself to anyone else. That's part of the joy of it for me. I judge so much of my life based on how close I am to perfection. I'll never win a race. But I'm in it to be better than I was last year, to push myself farther than I thought I could go. And that is freeing in a way I've never experienced. Don't get me started on the life metaphors...I have so many life/running metaphors that I scare myself a little.

8. Wear sunscreen. And if you're a mom, get a good stroller. And learn to tolerate Gatorade before downing it on your first half marathon. And get a Garmin. And have fun. And don't ignore the twingey pains that show up. And figure out how to stretch. And be super proud of yourself for being more in shape than you've ever been in your life. It's all good. Oh, except for the Gatorade experience. That's not good. Not At All. But knowing not to do it? You'll be grateful. Really. That advice alone is worth your time reading this post.

So there. My running secrets. I have more, but I am laughing again at the idea of passing out running advice.

Wasatch Back

Liz and I are putting together a team for this June's Wasatch Back. I know some of you are runners who are dying to come party with us. Who is in? Come on, you know you want to. (Oh, but girls only. We're going to have a girl party.)

Here's some info.

I need to register us speedy quick. I'm getting a list together on Facebook, so you can let me know in your comments here, or comment on FB, or email me, or call me. And if you have a fantastic idea for a team name, throw it out there.

If you don't jump on this, you're missing the opportunity of a lifetime. I mean it. Honestly. What could be more fun than hanging with Liz and me for 180 miles?

(Subliminal message...join us join us join us...)

Seriously. I'm Done with the Inversion.

So, I never have thought that my mood changes with the weather. I'm a pretty even-tempered person, as almost everyone will attest. But OH MY GOODNESS I AM SO DONE WITH THIS STUPID INVERSION. (How's that for throwing a fit?)



I love Utah. Don't get me wrong. But when an inversion sets in, I am so ready to move.

I think I could handle the gray, but the worst part for me is that I can't run outside. Apparently, running outdoors is like smoking a pack of cigarettes. Kind of negates the purpose of the run, I think. But day after day of looking at the yuck, then boring runs on the treadmill at the gym, then more looking at the yuck has done me in.

So this morning I drove with Ben to Park City, pulled the Bob out of the trunk, and RAN IN THE FRESH, CLEAN AIR. On a snowpacked trail. Next to a running stream.

Ahhhh...

So much better.

Giving Thanks, Days 8 & 9

I am grateful for David's decision to run the Snow Canyon half marathon with me.



WE DID IT! We ran together, and I loved it. The race was gorgeous, the weather was beautiful, the experience was unforgettable. I think we'll run this race every year. Anyone want to join us?

I'm so grateful for Lyndsey.



We love my niece Lyndsey so much. She sacrificed her weekend to take wonderful care of the kids. Art projects, late night movies, and a CLEAN HOUSE...amazing. My kids were NOT thrilled that we came home in the early afternoon today. They wanted her to stay forever.

I am grateful for Liz and Jeff.



We are blessed to have amazing neighbors all around us. Liz was one of my training partners when we ran our first half marathon. We've had hours of wonderful talks on the road and I am so thankful to have a friend like her. She and Jeff are funny, kind, and loyal friends who have helped me in my life so much. Liz ran the race in 2:02! Woo-hoo! She is amazing (I already said that, didn't I?)

I'm grateful for the earth and its glories.



Seriously. I got to spend a morning running in this majesty. The world is a gift.

Oh, and I'm really really thankful for ibuprofen. And so is David.

Giving Thanks, Day 6

I am grateful for a healthy body.

I am so thankful that I have been given the gift of health. I am aware of how tenuous that claim is...disaster could be just an hour, a day, a week away. The very fragility of health makes it even more precious to me, and I want to be grateful for it every day I can.

It rained all day Tuesday, a cold, sleety, miserable rain. I was supposed to run, but didn't feel good about sticking Ben in the stroller in that miserable weather. (I know. I need a weather cover.) When David got home, I put dinner on the table, then put on my running clothes and left. It was dark, cold, and less than two minutes out, it started to sleet. I had to think, "What on earth am I doing out here? This is ridiculous. Running is a stupid time-waster. And why do I ever say I like to run? I hate it. I can't stand it."

Many of my runs begin this way. You'd think my mindset would change after so many months/years, but there is something about Newton's First Law of Motion that fully applies to me: a body at rest (Mine) tends to stay at rest. Getting it into motion takes physical and emotional endurance.

The pouring sleet turned to snow (I tasted some of it), but after a mile and a half, it began to clear. After three miles, the clouds began to part, the crescent moon appeared through them, and a few stars began to twinkle. My body was mine again, not some obstinate other being, and I felt one with the world around me. I was full of gratitude (thank you, endorphins) for David's willingness to support my run, for my sweet family, and for the chance to run. I ended the run with a smile on my face and was able to reenter family life with more grace than I left it.

I Love Some Things

I try very hard to control my tendency towards materialism, but I must admit that there are some things that I LOVE. These are Things-with-a-capital-T because I really really like them. I don't really want to live without them. Is that so wrong?

So here are my top five Things:

1. My Bob Duallie Ironman Stroller.

Yes, it's true. My number one Thing is a STROLLER. How can it be? Well, if I didn't have this three-wheeled wonder, my bottom would be parked at home instead of running four mornings a week. And therefore, said bottom would be larger than it currently is. Ben loves to run. I love to run. The Ironman makes us both happy. This morning at 6:30, we spent four miles greeting the dawn. It was perfect. Thank you, Bob.
2. My Garmin Forerunner 305.

(This pic is actually the 205, but they look nearly the same.) Why do I love this watchy Thing? Well, before I owned it, I spent a lot of time driving over courses, trying to determine a new 3 mile route, or a six mile route or whatever. It took time. It took gas. My kids thought I was weird, driving up and down street after street. But now I have my little GPS unit telling me how far I've gone, how slow I'm going, and how way-too-fast my heart rate is. I love this watch. It is my friend.
3. My camera.

I just love my camera. I love it. I love its lenses, too, but I didn't list them today. It feels so good to hold you, camera dear. Thanks for all the fun.
4. My iMac.

I've converted wholeheartedly. iLife Suite, I love you, too. Sorry, brothers. I know you love your PCs, but Mac and I will live happily ever after.
5. My Yamaha U1.

I shouldn't be rude about this. It's ungrateful. I have a love/hate relationship with my Yamaha U1. I love him because he's a reliable, dutiful friend. He mostly stays in tune. His touch is not too hard, not too soft. We have had a lot of great times over the years, and he's made me lots of money. BUT...
He's not a Steinway. Or even a C3. So, I love him, but I'll dump him as soon as I can get my hands on something better. Sorry, U1. You deserve someone who'll love you for who you are. Maybe one day, but until then, I'll treat you mostly right (tunings twice a year, polishing when I get around to it. You know the drill.)

So these are my Favorite Things. Maybe if I'm sincerely grateful for them, I won't fall into the materialism trap? I can hope, anyway.

The First Annual (?) Youngberg Invitational 5K

The few and mighty gathered on Saturday morning after Bri and Mike's wedding to show off our athletic prowess (or lack thereof). Despite statements to the contrary, this was NOT the final showdown in the "Who is better, the Abbotts or the Youngbergs?" duel of 80's and 90's fame.

Our race took us to the church and back around the Lakebed. A run at home has to include the Lakebed. It is one of the biggest parts of our childhood. We all have memories of building forts, jumping in ditches after a rain, finding lizards, and it was always my planned destination when I decided to run away from home.

Here is the crew, the bravest of the brave. Back row: Tyler, Brett, Uncle Clark, Steven, Brent. Front row: Erin, Christina, Eric, David, Kerri, Mary Jean, and Peggy. (Steve is missing in this picture. Sorry, Steve.)
Our official timekeeper/photograper: Lynn. He took his job very seriously. If a runner failed to complete the final Via Ceresa leg, he disqualified them ON THE SPOT. There were no shortcuts in the Youngberg Invitational.

Our final standings are as follows (I added back those disqualified. Via Ceresa isn't very long, after all):

1. Tyler 22:52
2. Steven 23:01
3. Brett 25:55
4. Erin 27:13
5. Steve 27:52
6. Brent 28:58
7. David 32:52
8. Clark 32:58
9. Kerri 33:44
10. Nina 34:50
11. Peggy 43:00
12. Eric 45:06

Yes, I know, there are many varying circumstances to our final standings. Yes, the course I planned was a little hard to follow. Feel free to take a minute or two off your time if you got lost, or if it will make you feel better about yourself. Eric may claim injury, as he found himself with severe back pain after the Youngberg Invitational Diving Contest. Kerri may claim post-baby slowness, but that would just be wimpy of her. And it is known by most that Brent WOULD have placed fourth if he hadn't taken a wrong turn. All the Youngbergs are most grateful that Steven and Brent were running strong so that we could avoid an Abbott shut-out.

It was so much fun. Mary Jean claims it was her last run ever, but I think she should plan to be there for the next Youngberg Invitational 5K, whenever that may be. (Any more weddings in YL?)