long run – Betsy Schow

The Incredible Shrinking Catwoman

I warn you ahead of time. This is a rant.

I read an ABC News story yesterday about radical star diets for the roles they play. The one featured was about Anne Hathaway, the new Catwoman. I have always loved Anne Hathaway in the past because she looked more like a real girl as opposed to a stick puppet. However, to prepare for her roles as Catwoman and an ill girl in Les Miserables, she has at one point dropped her caloric intake to 500 calories per day, and puts 5 hours a day in at the gym.
“The Catwoman suit. It was a psychological terrorist,” she said. “… the suit, thoughts of my suit, changing my life so I would fit into that suit … it dominated my year. I went into the gym for 10 months and didn’t come out.” -Anne Hathaway Allure magazine

Why?!! Why are we doing this to ourselves as a society? Think of some of the past greats. Liz Taylor… Marilyn Monroe. They were women, not barbies. Let’s look at Julie Newmar who played Catwoman in the 1966 movie.

Girl had some curves.

Next up we have Eartha Kitt.

A little slighter than the last

Onto Michelle Pfiffer

No real curves to speak of. Very slender waist.

Lets go to Anne Hathaway in a recent photo shoot to promote the movie, Dark Knight Rises

She’s got some cleavage, I’ll give her that. You can’t have a heroine these days without a nice rack. But where did the rest of her go?

Here’s one of her the year before

Gorgeous. Normal.

The promo picture of her is beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. But the effort to maintain that body is completely insane and unsustainable. Yet she will be frozen in place forever as that size in that movie. The public will not think about the long days of starving with radishes and hummus and working in the gym. We will just say, “That is beauty.”

It’s not, it’s a costume.

And who wants to put on a costume everyday for the rest of their life?

Not me. I would much rather have a little extra fluff around the edges and eat healthy, than live in the gym obssessively- ignoring every other aspect of life.

I for one wish there were a few less “costumes” in Hollywood, and a few more real people.

…now what?

So, I made my goal. Finished a marathon in under 5 hours. Now what?

I’ve trained for this moment for 5 months. Put 10+ hours a week into it. Counted down the weeks, days, then hours until I would cross the start line. And now it’s over. And I’m left feeling a little bit like the 3rd day after Christmas. The anticipation is gone, the excitement of the new toys has passed. And all that’s left is mountain of packaging and even larger mountain of credit card bills.

My knees remind every step of my accomplishment, like the after haunt of too much fruitcake. But the great thing about Christmas, is that it comes again.

My daughters favorite movie is Tangled. And in that movie, Rapunzel hesitates to throw her lantern in the air, because then her dream is fulfilled. And she will be left with nothing. Flynn tells her that all you do is find a new dream.

Floating in a river aimlessly, is nice every once and a while. But most of the time, we need a heading. A destination. Something to reach for, to dream about.

I’m not sure what my new goal will be. But there will definitely be one. And I look forward to the work, sweat, and tears its going to take to reach it. So right now, instead of the post marathon depression, this should be the most exciting part. The part where the possibilities are endless, and I can choose anything for my to do list.

To quote the last line of Pretty Woman, Some dreams come true, some don’t; but keep on dreamin’ – this is Hollywood. Always time to dream, so keep on dreamin’.

Utah Valley Marathon

It’s 3:45 in the morning and I’m on the bus that will take me to the starting line of the marathon. The start is up Provo Canyon and they don’t allow any parking or private drop offs up there because of traffic. So I have to wake up at 3 for a 6 am start time. But let’s be honest, I didnt really sleep last night anyway. 😉

4:40- just arrived at the start line. That was a really loong bus ride. And I have to run that?!!! Lol. Now just to hang out until the gun goes off at 6

5:55- 5 min to start. Let’s go!

10:55- done! 4:55 Unofficial time

I will do a big long post later. I’m too dead now

The Long Run: One more week – the anticipation is killing me

Next Saturday at 3:45 am, I will be on a bus to the starting line up Provo Canyon. Let the stomach jitters begin. I’m downing antacids by the case load. And over analyzing every little knee twitch and ankle roll. I don’t even want to jog to the mailbox anymore, for fear of screwing up my legs.

The odd thing? I’m pretty sure that the morning of, I will be as cool as a kumquat. There’s this peace that settles over me, because I know come hell or high water, I will cross the finish line. I might be on my knees, and it might be 3 hours after race closes, but I will still drag my butt across.

After all, I’ve already had the worst happen in a marathon. Last August, in my first one, my hamstring injury resurfaced at mile 8 and was debilitating by mile 13. I was forced to speed walk the rest of it. But I still made it. I required a bottle of advil afterwards, but I survived.

The secret?

Forgetting about the time and putting one foot in front of the other until it’s over. Also, the fierce determination that the 4 months of running training hell were not pointless. I will walk away with my medal dammit. 🙂

Now if only I can survive the next week without injuring myself or giving myself ulcers.

Long Run: Blessed taper

Right now is my favorite part of marathon training, the taper. About three weeks before the marathon, you do your longest run of the training. Then for the next three weeks, you taper down the miles until the week of the marathon, you are only running 2 miles at a time. After last Sunday’s 20 miler, I was thrilled that today was only 12. I know only 12 sounds a little nutty, but after you’ve already hit the much higher and harder numbers, 12 is a godsend.

The idea behind taper is that high intensity long lasting cardio is hell on you muscles and bones. Duh. So after you peak, you need those three weeks to repair the damage you’ve done by working it so hard. Makes me wonder, if this is built in, how crazy are all of us to do this knowing we are causing damage in the first place. Just a thought.

But that’s why I like the taper. It’s a rest, but it’s also actively recovering, healing, licking my wounds.I think I need to introduce the taper in the rest of my life. I think I’ve mentioned that I’m going back to college to finish up my degree in English. I wonder how they would feel about a taper. Amp up in homework until about three weeks before the final, then give little or no homework, allowing your brain to stop frying from all the cramming. I think it’s brilliant.

I need to figure out how to work this in with my family. “I’m sorry, I can’t take anymore together time. I’m maxed out and I need to taper.”

There is a sad part to the taper though. The less calories I burn, the less calories I can consume. I can’t get away with that extra brownie anymore.

Oh well, can’t have it all.

Long Run and Fitness Tip: Cheerleaders

This weekend I did my longest run before the marathon in 3 weeks. 20 freaking miles. I ran around my neighborhood, but I’m pretty sure if I’d been smart I could have run to the ice cream shop and back. Anyway, afterwards I had the energy of a slug so the weekend post never happened. So here’s the weekend post with the fitness tip folded in. Like a candy with a gooey center.

I’ve decided that the biggest run before a marathon is just bad juju. Last year it was just after my longest run that I injured my hamstring, making my first marathon a speed walkathon. Two weeks ago I had a great 19 mile run. I wasn’t tired or sore or anything. I could’ve run the marathon that day for sure. This 20 miles kicked my butt. It wasn’t the extra mile that pushed me over, I hit the wall all the way back at mile 5.

It started in the ball of my foot then shot up the shin, through the knee and then up the hamstring finally zapping my lower back. My right leg was stiff and tight and begging to be amputated. So choices. Run through it or go home. I’m too darn stubborn to go home, so I ran through it. Then next 10 miles sucked. Really bad. I wasn’t in extreme pain, maybe a 5 on the pain scale. I had to pull through all my bags of tricks to get through it. Music, singing, visualizing the finish line, self talk… everything. I finally went with “This sucks” over and over to the beat of my feet. Then changed it to “Just one more lap until Chrisy comes”. Yep, I had reinforcements coming.

The last five miles of my long runs, my friend Chrisy Ross joins me. If I could just make it long enough for her to come, then I knew she’d drag my butt those last five miles. Sure enough, rounding the park I saw my salvation. I nearly started crying. My knee by this point felt completely rusted over. She started running in step with me encouraging me, “You’re running strong. Good girl.” I stood a little taller, my stride a little more confident.

For the next fifty minutes or so we kept the pace and she kept my mind off how much I wanted to be home, in bed, with the biggest bag of ice I could find. The last five miles ended up just as easy as the first five. My knee still killed me by the end, but I had made it. And I’m not sure I would have without my friend being my cheerleader.

Everybody needs a cheerleader in life. They don’t need to have pom poms or wear a short skirt, but they do need to push you back onto the field even when your down by five goals. When you have a workout buddy, you seem to stand a little taller, push a little harder, and stay a little longer. I’m not sure if it’s the mechanics of healthy competition, or pride, or the warm fuzzy feeling of encouragement- but I always do better with a friend at my side.

So that’s the fitness tip, get a cheerleader. Somebody that holds you accountable for your progress and pushes you to go even though you feel like giving up.

The Long Run: Emotional hoarding

Something I’ve noticed recently is that I hold on to stuff way past their expiration date. And I’m not just talking about the milk from the freezer. I hang on to emotions and feelings way past when I should let them go.

I mean should I still be pissed at those kids from high school that moo’ed at me in the hallway?

I have to learn to let it go because it’s taking up valuable space in my life. Do I really need to keep an emotional tally of all the times my family has supported me, and more importantly, the times they have not.

Why am I still hanging onto feelings that don’t matter? Am I using it as fuel to propel me forward? No. It’s just dragging me down into old patterns of feeling inadequate.

So yesterday my post was all about cleaning my room, well today I need to clean out my feelings drawer. I might try the whole get it out into a letter and burn it idea. But I have to get all the negative hurts out before they poison me and halt my success and happiness.

Do you have problems letting it go? Better yet, do you have good tips on how to let it go? Are you an emotional hoarder too?

The Long Run: Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon

So most of the times I try to share a lesson or a thought. Something I’ve learned over the course of this accidental adventure. Today however, I will be running the Thanksgiving Point half marathon, and I wanted to share it with you.

I’m actually writing this part of Friday night. My nerves are jumpy, and I probably won’t be able to sleep. But that’s half the fun right? I picked up my packet and my number is 992. Sounds like a good number to me. So I’m going to go to sleep now (maybe), and after I finish the race tomorrow, I will post how it went. It’s timed. I’m sure I won’t be first. I probably won’t be last. But it doesn’t matter, as long as I finish.

Ok, so I’ve finally recovered enough to sit at the computer. LOL. Here’s a tip, if the race is run through a golf course, just say NO. This was a really tough race with lots of steep inclines and drops following the Thanksgiving Point golf course. That part mooey sucked. But the first part was awesome. We ran through the gardens. There were tulips and lilacs everywhere. Fountains and waterfalls. Bridges, archways, and tunnels. I almost wanted to slow down to soak it in a little more.

I had intended this run to be basically another training run for the marathon, meaning slow and steady. Ehh. Didn’t happen. Once I got next to the other runners my little competitive fuse got lit by adrenaline. I was doing my run at 8:30 min per mile pace for half mile, the recovery walk for 1 minute. There was this guy, we will call him green guy because of his attire. Green guy and I kept jockeying for position. I would run ahead of him, then my watch would beep and I would walk. During the walk cycle he would pass me for a moment until my watch beeped that it was time to run again. Then I’d leave him in the dust.

Every time I passed green guy he would groan or swear. He was so mad that I kept passing him then holding back. Then passing again. He finally said something unpleasant. I ignored him and kept on running. I made it my mission to beat him to the finish. So when we approached all the hills my legs really wanted to slow down, but I was not going to let that snot beat me.

Long story short, I beat him to the finish by 3 minutes. Even though I took walk breaks every half mile and he ran continuously. I finished at 2:02:30. in about the top third of all the registered people.

Lesson to be learned? Do your own thing and tune out the naysayers. People may have thought I was dumb for run.walking, but at the end of the race I was exhausted and I was injury free. Green guy was limping. Who had the better run?

Run, walk, skip, or jump. Do your own thing and whatever makes you happy. The only rule is that you have to finish.

The Long Run: You can do hard things

Today’s long run is 18 miles. I’m not gonna lie, it’s given me heart palpitations all week. It’s big and scary and really, really, hard.

So this week I have been repeating our family mantra- You can do hard things.

The mantra was given to us by my daughter’s occupational therapist. When my daughter was 4 yrs old, she refused to do anything. Everything was too hard. Tying her shoes, walking, getting dressed… you name it. She stopped trying to do anything because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do it. It was going to be too hard. That’s when her therapist told her that it’s ok that the big scary thing was hard. Because she was a supergirl. And she could do hard things. It took some convincing and a whole lot of practice, but now all it usually takes is that gently reminder to get her back on course.

I’m not four but I still have the same problems. I look at something and all the work it’s gonna take and I say nu uh. It’s too hard. I don’t want to do it.

I know for sure I can run 18 miles. I’ve run 26.2. But even though I know I can do it doesn’t mean it’s not going to be tough. It’s still intimidating, but I just have to tell myself over and over that I can do hard things. I grew two little human beings. It doesn’t get much harder than that.

So everytime I feel that little tendril of fear creeping into my belly and want to crawl back in my shell, I look back and find something I’ve done that was tough, but I survived anyway. So take that 18 miles, I can do hard things.

The Long Run: Pride cometh before the fall

This week I had myself a little spark of correction. I had to rearrange my running schedule because my best friend and head of the fat pack, Sarah Michelle, is getting married today. I moved my run to Wednesday. It was a 17 miler. I figured that if I dropped my kiddos off at preschool at 9, I had 3 hours to get the run done. Shouldn’t be a problem.

It was a problem. My legs did not want to cooperate. I kept checking my watch for my pace, sure that it was wrong, but no. I was going slow.

The smart thing to do would have been to go at the pace that I needed to go at to finish the miles without taxing my legs. Did I do that? Of course not. I pushed myself faster and harder to try and make sure I could get the kids picked up on time.

I’ll tell you what happened. I was still late, and now my previously injured hamstring is acting up. Why didn’t I just call my mom to pick up the kids? Because of pride, that’s why. Because I thought I should be able to match my personal best on any given day. I felt like I needed to prove to myself that I was not getting slower.

Stupid Betsy. It’s ok to be slow. It’s ok to be fast. It’s ok to be whatever I am today.
It just took a little spark of correction in my hamstring to remember that.