Who knew a brief tour of our pantry would yield such interest?

In response to those of you who asked for a good recipe or two, this one is phenomenal. We are ten days into the new year, and maybe your resolve to eat better is starting to crumble. Want a healthy, yummy sweet treat?  Try these blondie brownies. (Let's face it - blondes do have more fun. Cocoa powder can stay in the cabinet). Just whip up a batch and you'll satisfy your sweet tooth while remaining nutritionally on track.

I wish I could say I've been making it for years, but it actually just came to me yesterday. My friend Jen (also blond, btw) made them after discovering the recipe in Shape magazine, and then brought me a tiny sample at boot camp this morning. (I love it when she brings me food.) I had it with my coffee at 7:45am and by 8:30, all of the ingredients were lined up on my counter, ready to be mixed. Mind you, I didn't even get to eat all of my tiny sample ('tiny' because her husband did not want to part with too many of them; unwillingness to share is always a sign of a good recipe!). Contingent upon finishing his scrambled eggs, Scott got the last 1/3 of it. Lucky kid.

Let's be upfront, however: this is not low-cal. With a 1/2 cup of nut butter and 1/3 cup of maple syrup (or agave), both are high in calories and/or fat. I mean, just 2 tablespoons of almond butter packs 180 calories and 16 grams of fat. Eating this will not make you skinny and eating a whole pan (which I am trying very hard not to do right now...) may actually put pounds on. The difference, however, is that these brownies are much healthier than brownies loaded with saturated fat, processed sugar, and refined flour. (I know, the jury is still out regarding the use of maple syrup versus white sugar; does the body process sugar, regardless of its origin, the same? I don't know. If you do, let me know.)

While the brownies may be dense and high in calories, their secret ingredient is...garbanzo beans.  Yup, beans for the win. Again. Because of those magical little suckers, one serving offers a nice serving of fiber and protein, something completely absent in a traditional brownie. Pick the nut butter of your choice (Jen used cashew butter; I opted for almond), and you've added some heart-healthy poly- and mono-unsaturated fat. And no eggs mean you can lick the spoon with reckless abandon, you crazy baker!

I'll post another favorite recipe next week, but right now, this one is too good not to share. Bake it this weekend!

Vegan Blondie Brownies
by Jen B and Shape Magazine

Coconut cooking spray or vegan buttery spread (this is just to grease the
    pan; don't freak out if you don't have these)
1 can (15 oz) chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup almond, cashew or peanut butter
1/3 cup pure maple syrup or agave
1 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons vegan chocolate chips
Sea salt

Directions
1.  Preheat over to 350 degrees
2.  In a food processor, pulse chickpeas, nut butter, sweetener, vanilla, salt, baking powder, baking soda until smooth. Fold in 1/3 cup chocolate chips. Spread batter evenly in prepared pan and sprinkle with remaining chocolate chips.
3.  Bake for 25 minutes or toothpick comes out clean. Edges should be slightly browned.
4.  Cool pan for 20 minutes. Sprinkle with a touch of sea salt.
5.  Try to prevent you or your family members from eating all of them in one sitting.
Yields: not enough

What can I say? The kid dressed himself. Shark jammies, celadon satin cape, gold party hat, festive necklaces. He later added some matching satin gloves to the ensemble and ran through the house with his mini glowing light saber shouting, "I am the wizard! I must save the princess!" I'm not sure what happened to the stuffed harbor seal (seen here in his left hand) but he blew that party horn (seen in his right hand) for a solid fifteen minutes before we finally took it away.

Happy New Year, y'all.

With that level of debauchery and exuberance, there's a reason I love the quiet calm of January. The holiday excess finally ends and we can get down to business. Routine, cleanliness, organization. Good-bye Christmas trees, hello open space. See ya later sugar cookies, welcome back kale. Boot camp resumes, the child heads back to Pre-K, and the constant buzz from my champagne/Chardonnay intake has blissfully subsided.

Let's hear it for January!

We've been busy. We broke out the juicer on New Year's Day.

We hit the library to take our level of marine life knowledge to the next level. Someone ::cough, cough:: was so excited, he ripped through all of his books on the car ride home. Can you say, "frog fish"?

(yes, there is such a thing).

And finally, we've been doing what I love best - organizing. I spent the weekend working through the pantry. Dried beans, flours, assorted grains...I finally have a system for them.  (don't worry, one of my resolutions this year is to not kill my family with dried beans).

I know, I know, try to contain your enthusiasm. It's hard being this exciting. Watch out world - here comes Kim and her five kinds of flour! Who wants some groats??

I hope the new year finds all of you enjoying my favorite month of the year! Cheers to January!

(Note: this may be the longest post I've ever written. Might want to grab a snack and a comfy seat. Settle in, friend.)

The marathon is over. I did it. I really, really did it. I touched 26.2 miles and didn't die.

You may notice that I didn't post anything in the blog last week? That was a deliberate choice on my part. It may sound counter-intuitive since writing what's in my head is usually a healthy outlet, but this time, there was too much fear in public postings. I didn't want to sound over-confident and I didn't want to sound scared. Quite honestly, I had trouble even identifying what was going through my head (or heart) so it was just easier to skim Pinterest and find inspirational quotes to post.

This is because last Monday, Brian, Ye Who Never Misses a Day of Work (seriously - he once spent a night throwing up and then at 8am, put his suit on and went to court for a full day of work) got sick. The plague that afflicted Scotty hit Dada on Veteran's Day. I knew it was bad when we came home after the park and found Brian in bed, under the covers, with the TV off. Oh boy, I thought. This is it. Brian's sick, it's going to hit me next, and then this whole race is just one giant mess.

Somehow, my immune system held on. Lots of Clorox combined with a downstairs quarantine helped matters, and by Thursday, I declared the Outbreak 100% contained.  At that point, however, I had resigned myself to the inevitable. So I got sick. Fine. I'll take a day of rest, puke my guts out, get an IV to rehydrate, and we will move on with things. Sometimes things just happen.

This mindset is a serious departure from my usual thinking. I like to think all of this running has put me in a quasi-Zen state, but in reality, it's the reading, not the running, that helped. After a quick reread of "Born to Run" this week, the story of Emil Zapotek, a Czech runner in the 1950s who went on to win Olympic gold in the 5,000m, 10,000m, and marathon, really got to me. Author Chris McDougall likens the Czech running team to the Zimbabwean bobsled team: "they had no tradition, no coaching, no native talent, and no chance of winning." But instead of being discouraged by this, being counted out was actually liberating. No expectations meant there is nothing to lose. After a week of twisting my hands and trying to contain my anxiety, it was on Thursday night when I finally got it. I'm a fairly new runner. I'm a mom, a wife, a former therapist, and a volunteer. I'm not running to break the tape, I'm not running to qualify for Boston. I'm just running to finish. Yes, in the weeks and months after the race, it's natural to be defined by your finishing time, but this was my first full. If I had a sh*tty, time, guess what? It'll just be easier to PR on my second go-around.

My friend Chelsea put the final nail in my coffin of disquietude. She recently completed the Nike Women's San Fran race in October with a PR and a big smile. She told me in her first two fulls, she was nearly beside herself with panic, almost to the point of making herself sick. For her third, she made a conscious decision to relax. She sang out loud to her music, high-fived spectators, and let herself have fun. This kind of advice goes against my Type-A-choke-it-til-it-doesn't-move approach to life, but seeing her big smile and positive outlook made me think she's on to something. She later said she, too, is Type-A by nature, but she was able to shelve her natural tendencies for race day.

That said, I designed the next few days for optimal repose. I enjoyed a quiet Friday night and slept well. I woke up with a massive headache on Saturday but willed myself to ignore it. Miraculously, Sunday found me with no headache and the awareness of being well-rested. Things were lining up in my favor. As I got dressed and we set off to pick up Reinier, I thought to myself, "I'm going to do this. I really am. And I'm going to enjoy doing it."

A big part of my calm attitude came as a result of something I like to call, "The Reinier Effect." See, back in August, he asked me if I was running with anyone. I said no. I'm not a big run-with-others gal (too much to negotiate). He then offered to run with me if I'd like. I was so stupefied by his offer it took me a solid two weeks to get back to him. Running with a coach - is that cheating? (Now that I've finished, I can tell you definitively -- NO!) Was he really willing to hang out with me for four-plus hours?  What would we talk about?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was a gift. Not only would the companionship be welcome on those lonely later miles, but I would have the full breathe of his experience at my fingertips. If I ran into trouble, I had an insurance policy to get me through it.

Eventually, it culminated in a very awkward (read: me) exchange after Hill Day one morning. "So, yeah, that offer to run the.." (nervous cough) "...marathon..." (very long, uncomfortable pause) "...with me? Does it, uh, still stand?" Unbelievably, he said yes and I suddenly had an emotional sherpa to make the journey with.

It was his 40th marathon and my first. Needless to say, I did everything he did (or told me to do). Upon arriving at the Start Village, he immediately found a secluded corner near the fence and popped a squat. There would be no unnecessary walking or standing. Ah, smart. When friends texted us that they were nearby, they came to us. I sat there, eating my banana, chatting pleasantly away about everything but running. We had had our final sit-down the day before and he patiently answered all of my questions. Today was about relaxing. And then eventually, running. But first, we chill. 

When our corral took off, I felt almost no worry. I was ready - three months of training, diet changes, weight loss and my favorite South African next to me made me feel like a total bad-ass. The first five miles were easy. Reinier told me to pull it back a little and I listened. We laughed, talked, and enjoyed the sights and other runners. We worried the guy in front of us dripping with sweat at mile 3 was probably on the verge of a heart attack. I pointed out a runner wearing nothing but a pink sports bra and a rainbow-colored tutu, declaring that would likely be my outfit at the next hill day. Reinier responded,  "Me too."

A little after mile 5, I got a slight cramp in my front left foot but remained silent. I didn't want to tell him about it, deciding instead to embrace the pain and run through it. It worked. By mile 8, it had mostly subsided. Mile 8.78 was a flash by the Morelli House, headquarters to Junior League of Las Vegas, and as I nudged Reinier to show it to him, I saw this huge group of people standing in the driveway, screaming and holding signs. Signs that had...my name on it? I looked closer and saw Jen, Stesha, Michelle, Kerry, Sonnya and Nancy jumping up and down. I was so surprised (and touched!) I jumped in the air, screaming and waving back at them. Amazing! AMAZING! Ah, the gift of good friends!

That jolt of excitement carried me through mile 10 when out of the crowd bounded a familiar little blond...Courtney! She and Jason had finished the half of the half (6.4 miles) an hour earlier, and there she was, jumping up and down in her hot pink pants. She immediately joined the pack and ran with us through the Fremont canopy. "You look fresh as a daisy!" Reinier told her. "I just drank a beer and had a slice of pizza!" she responded happily. Oh, Courtney. She knows how to do these race-things right.

After the excitement of Fremont, we began the slow climb to the "Outer Banks" - the part of the course that takes you far from the neon and energy of the Strip into North Las Vegas. The climb was more substantial than I had given it credit -- by mile 13, that nasty little foot cramp was back with a vengeance. My brain was also slowing considerably and I couldn't discern if it was my shoe that was causing the pain or actually a muscle in my body. The fog of runner's brain is annoying, to say the least.

I knew if I could just make it up MLK and back down to Carey Ave, I'd be rewarded with Scotty and Brian at mile 16.5 (and the promise of a poster or two). When we hit the turnaround and I didn't see them, I felt my chest tighten. I had given Reinier my phone (he now had become an actual sherpa, not just an emotional one) and had no way to check in. Was Scotty okay? Did something happen? I told Reinier my concerns and no sooner were the words out of my mouth did he suddenly yell, "Scotty! Over here!!"

In all of his 44 inches of glory, there stood my son. The only thought that flashed through my head in that moment was, "He is the most beautiful child I've ever seen." He jumped up and down, along with Brian, waving not one but TWO posters (sweet!). He yelled what we practiced, "Go Mom! Run faster!" I gave him a quick pat on the head and soon we were headed into the longest part of the race.

At mile 18, Reinier told me, "This is it. If you want a time between 4:15 and 4:20, we need to push it. If you are okay with 4:20 or 4:30, we can keep this pace." Unfortunately, this was also about the time my left calf decided to seize up in a ball of agony. Have you ever had a Charlie horse? One that jolts you upright because the pain is so acute? Yup, that's essentially what my leg did. I had given up on any feeling in my toes three miles ago. I knew something was bleeding in my shoe but didn't care to look yet. This cramp, though...it was wicked. And unrelenting. I told Reinier to keep our current pace.

About a 1/2 mile later, ole Righty did the same thing. This time, however, instead of just the calf muscle cramping, it decided to take the whole leg with it. Thigh, hamstring, calf. You name it, it cramped. I began panting with exhaustion. "Is this normal?" I asked him, convinced I had somehow done something wrong. Not enough protein? Too much water? Was this a build-up of lactic acid that my body couldn't process?

Nope, he reassured me. This is just general fatigue. Welcome to the real race, that devilish 20 miles plus. And then, in a stroke of pure coaching genius, he pointed out several runners around us who were experiencing the same thing. "That lady in front of us? Oh, she's hurting. See that guy? Totally cramping." I looked around and saw my fellows runners hobbling along with really unusual gaits, trying to minimize the pain while maximizing the pace. And because Reinier is Reinier, he even did a quick sample poll for my benefit. "Excuse me!" he called to a runner in a white shirt limping by. "Are you cramping right now?" The guy turned around, totally friendly, and kind of laughed. "Oh god yes!" he exclaimed. "All part of the process!" I looked at Reinier with a newfound sense of admiration and appreciation. Thanks for normalizing it for me, dude. (We later joked that guy was a plant. He wasn't.)

Speaking of appreciation, while I'm slogging out these miles, it should be known that Reinier had maybe 3 Gu's to my 6? He was barely sweating and his breathing never sounded strained. He looked like he could keep running for hours. Mind you, he and his wife Kerry are in the throes of newborn sleep deprivation with a 4-week old at home. How this man could physically do this, with such little perceived effort, is truly a feat to watch. He was slapping hands with spectators, saying hello to everyone on the course, and made sure to pay special attention to all of the police and fire fighters out there. Awesome display of true sportsmanship and athletics.

Mile 21. Mile 21.2. Mile 21.2. Mile 22.35. In what he later called "Garmin Tourettes," I checked my watch constantly during what I perceived to be the longest mile. How in God's name are we still on Mile 22? Why? In addition to my leg cramping, my left IT band (which had never given me a lick of problems in the past) chose to shoot pain directly into my hip, like a hot poker. Wtf, legs? You guys are usually my strong ones. It's the toes and tummy that are my problem children. But my most trusted body parts decided it was their turn to unleash a little hell, and man, they made quite a statement.

That is, until Fremont. Hearing Chelsea's voice in my head ("have fun!") and watching Reinier's example, I high-fived a few spectators, despite feeling as though the process of raising my arm was enough to cripple me. The last guy I high-fived clearly did not anticipate my weakened condition and hit my hand so hard my whole arm flew back. A muscle in my neck popped and I tucked my arm in, like a broken wing. Holy sh*tballs, things were getting scary. How many more miles?

Speaking of scary, let's talk about that whole mind-body connection. I hear from a lot of people that they have to push themselves to keep running, despite what their brain is telling them. I thought I had this under control; anytime that nagging voice crept in, I silenced it quickly. Even in the worst of training runs, I chose to never walk. Mentally, I consider myself strong. Physically, however...and tonight? That voice was having a field day by mile 23. It wasn't just telling me to walk - it was SCREAMING at me to walk. I would feel so much better if I could just walk...just a little...for just a few minutes...

Again, Chris McDougall's words came rushing into my head. "The brain is always scheming to reduce costs, get more for less, store energy and have it ready for an emergency...the loudest voice in your ear is your ancient survival instinct urging you to relax." My brain had kicked into survival mode times ten -- it was demanding I stop. And I was just about to give in when...

...the awesome guy the matching shirt to my left had another plan. "What's your mantra?" he demanded. "Uh...um..." I racked my brain, switching gears from fears of dying to what I had written earlier that week. "Strong, brave, ready!" I yelled to him. "Good!" he shouted back. "No fear, no doubt. You are strong, brave and ready, girl! Go! Let's catch the girl ahead of us! I see the finish line!"

I knew he was lying (about the finish line) but I loved him for saying that. We never caught the girl in front of us but I also didn't walk, either. For the next 3.2 miles, he shouted things like, "Six super loops left!" (a measure we use at Boot Camp). "We are just running around the park right now! Six super loops, you can do it!" I managed my own "Pain is temporary" comment (pretty proud of that) to add to the growing excitement of the conversation. I could do this, I am doing this, what are those flashing lights up ahead? Is it really...???

THE FINISH LINE! The second most beautiful sight I saw that night (Scotty was first). Reinier busied himself with slapping hands of cheering people while I hooved it over the line. I raised my arms as they snapped my picture but am pretty sure I forgot to smile. I was done.

4:45. (unofficially)

And I am DAMN proud of that time.

Words cannot describe the next 10 minutes. Reinier took the medal from the volunteer and placed it around my neck like a proud dad. I choked back tears. I almost collapsed into a heap of Kim but again, we just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Isn't that what this is all about? Walking was a blessed, blessed relief. Water tasted amazing.

We ran into more friends. There were lots of pictures. I wrapped myself in a Mylar blanket and let the emotions wash over me. Un-freaking-believable. I just ran a marathon.

It needs to be said, if it wasn't obvious from this description, Reinier gets the MVP for this race. I don't know what I would have done without him. And better even than the support and amazing coaching, it was fun to watch him run. I'll be honest, I've thrown a few elbows in the more-crowded races, bumped shoulders with some folks. Not Reinier. If he passed someone, more often than not, he would place a gentle hand on their back, smile at them, and they would move aside, smiling right back at him. He showed amazing class and character in every aspect of this experience and for me, it was an honor running next to him. If more of us were like him, this would be an amazing world. He sets a phenomenal example.

When we finally broke free from the runner's finishing corral, we were met with hugs and confetti. Nancy jumped up to hug me and Scotty wrapped his little arms around my legs. There was more confetti, more hugging, and more congratulations. I've always loved the ending of "Born to Run," when the 50-mile run erupts into an all-out street party for the village of Urique, and here I was, having my own personal fiesta on Las Vegas Boulevard. This. Was. AWESOME.

Once my phone was in my hot little hand, the shock of seeing so many people's comments and congratulations was staggering. The love I felt - from California to Iowa to Indiana, all the way down to Florida - was incredible. But the best text by far was from my friend Erika; she had given birth to her baby girl 90 minutes before the race kicked off. We had been joking about this for weeks, how we were both going to have to buckle down and push through the pain. Mine lasted 4:45, hers latest 33 hours. Now that's an ultra marathon!

My final thoughts on this very, very long story: what I experienced last night (and continue to) was truly transcendental. I wish everyone could have a taste of what I had last night. It was humbling and overwhelming at the same time.  Totally worth every single early bedtime and early morning, every refused glass of wine, and every fear or doubt that flickered through my mind over the miles.

If you are a casual runner logging a couple miles every week, consider signing up for a half. You are ready.

If you already have a half marathon (or several) under your belt, go for broke. You are ready.

And if you've never run a mile in your life but read through this and felt even slightly inspired, go get some running shoes and start tearing up the road. You are ready.

It's SO worth it.

                                           *****************

Oh, one final comment (promise!): my time. 4:45 was slower than anticipated. Considering I was ready to bag it mile 23, I am incredibly happy I pushed through and really feel I left it all out there. I don't think I could have gone a second faster and that brings me a great amount of pride.

Remember my entry Timing is Everything...Or is it?  If I go off of the goals I set for myself - not involving finishing time - how did I do?

A.) First and foremost, I'd like to finish without having to climb on that bus.

Ha! I didn't even see that bus!

B.) Second, I want to enjoy the experience. Reinier said your first marathon is always your favorite; I'd like to prove him right.

It was more than unbelievable. Not just the best race of my life, but one of the best events to happen in my 35 years on this planet.

C.) And finally, I want Scotty see his mom finish strong enough to pick him up at the end of the race for a much-need post-running hug.

I believe I succeeded.

Besides, 4:45 is a great goal for me to beat in the next marathon! Ahahahaha!

(Update: official results are in! I was faster than I thought! 4:44:58! Two seconds --  I'll take it!)

(Also -- if you are inspired by all this talk of exercise AND live in Las Vegas, consider joining our little tribe, also known as Las Vegas Boot Camp. Set an early resolution this new year's and sign up for a six week course. We can run hills together and do push-ups under the stars.
Check out www.lasvegasbootcamp.net for more info!

This plug was sponsored by enthusiasm, never obligation, because if you start running, together we will make the world a better place.)

res-o-lu-tion [rez-uh-loo-shun n]:
-   a decision or determination; a resolve
-  firmness of purpose, the mental quality of being resolved or resolute

The new year is upon us and everyone is talking about the changes they want to make. What do you resolve to do in 2014? 

In the wake of the marathon, I heard from a number of people that expressed an interest in running or a goal of completing a race.  This made me extremely happy because at that point, all I wanted to do was talk about running. I'm not sure if I was coherent by then, but I do remember each person I spoke with had exactly the same question: how do I start?

I wrote the entry "Running 101" on 12/29/2011, barely a year into my new hobby. And I don't really count January to September as "running," since I was simply trying to get back into shape after my surgery. My actual training for the half marathon started on Labor Day weekend (which will forever be known as my "run-niversary.")

In the two years that have passed, I'd say the  majority of what I knew back then still stands strong. I updated it just a tad, but I hope you find it helpful. And most of all, I hope the new year finds you hitting the pavement! Resolve to run, friends!!

                                                  ******************

Okay, as promised, here are some tips for beginning runners. Again, I want to clarify that I am not an expert, doctor, trainer, nutritionist, or even a good runner. I am just someone who started running on January 1, 2011 and completed a half-marathon in December. My point? If I can do it, you can do it. It just takes a little bit of courage and a whole lot of will power.

And a couple of packets of Gu. More on that later.

[editor's note: I have since switched to Honey Stingers. No caffeine]

Two minutes on, one minute off

I started running on the treadmill for two reasons: 1.) I wanted to know my speed and 2.) I needed to see a clock. The clock-thing was more mental (i.e. "It feels like I've been running for 45 minutes and it's only been 6 minutes??") but ended up being very helpful. I realized that running a full mile was too much for me, so I broke it down: two minutes running, one minute walking. I did this for ten minutes. The first time doing it, I was so winded I could barely catch my breath. (in my defense, I was also recovering from major abdominal surgery six weeks earlier. Or maybe I was just a big marshmallow. The jury is still out.)

Either way, I needed to take it slow.

And as I continued, my two-minutes-on-one-minute-off slowly lengthened. Instead of ten minutes, I stayed on the treadmill (at a comfortable pace, which at that time was about 5.3-5.5 mph) for twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Once I did it for an hour, and that's when I realized I didn't need the one minute recovery anymore. So I started running five full minutes at a time, then ten, and without thinking, by February I was easily clocking 20 minutes of solid running (5.5-5.8mph). It took about eight weeks to really get a good three miles in there, but again, I wasn't running for distance, just time. And that helped.

[editor's note: Running is a great way to lose weight, but if you are significantly overweight or looking to lose a large amount of weight, be sure to take it really slow. As we all know, running puts significant stress on your joints. Additional body weight simply compounds that problem. Starting too fast or running long distances increases your chances of injury. Be sure to combine your running with a super-healthy diet and cross training to help those stubborn pounds melt off faster.]

Train for something

Once I started logging three miles here, two miles there, my confidence soared. I felt like a serious bad-ass on the treadmill. My legs started to thin out and I carried my shoulders a little bit straighter. By July, it occurred to me that all of my treadmill running should be put to good use and I should do something adventurous. So I signed up for a half-marathon. Obviously, as previously stated, I signed up for the race for bigger reasons (i.e. my dad), but knowing that I had to run 13.1 miles in just under 5 months certainly made me motivated to keep running. December 4th loomed over me like a bad cloud, but I was committed; my $140 was not going to go to waste.

Find Support

This is where good coaching come in. I ran July and August by myself, and realized that I was totally in over my head. I still had not yet conceded that running is a team sport (or how a coach would be helpful), but feeling the pain in my knees and the fear of 13.1 miles looming in front of me convinced me to call up the boot camp instructors and register for their running team.

And in that, I found a whole new community. We received weekly emails that detailed everything from what to eat, how many miles to run per day, and even how to psychologically talk to yourself as the long (and longer) runs started. There is no way I would have ever challenged myself to run 7 miles alone; but when it was on the schedule, I showed up like a dutiful solider.  Not only did I finish that run, but as we were leaving, another runner commented to me, "You are just a natural. You have the most graceful stride."

I almost fell over. I laughed and told her that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. Ever. In my whole life.

We both laughed, but it made me feel like a rock star. And certainly kept me going.

[editor's note: And if you are really lucky, a good coach might just run a marathon with you! It was the best (and most needed) gift I could have ever asked for. Running may be an individual sport, but you'll find the greatest strength from your fellow runners.]

Good Gear is Key

My first day on the running team, I discovered my shoes were wrong, my socks were wrong, even the way I tie my shoelaces were wrong. At the time, I was pretty defensive. Looking back, I realize they were right. And I was wrong. ::sigh::

So I bought new sneaks at a legit running store. I purchased non-cotton socks. I watched carefully as the coach tied my shoes, feeling as helpless as Scotty during the process. And after my initial feelings of uselessness wore off, I found myself going back to buy Gu, running pants (that I like to call my "go-fast pants"), and even a running stick (to roll out sore muscles). The point here? Good gear makes the process a lot more enjoyable. And fashionable, too.

Cross-train

This is where boot camp was key. Hill Day was critical to conditioning, and all of the ab work helped to tighten my core. A strong upper body will be help you through the longer runs.  It didn't usually come into play until after mile 3, but that's when I felt different parts of my body working in different ways. My mid-section literally felt as though there was a corset cinched around it. My breathing evened out and it was no longer one giant exercise in exhaustion. I wouldn't call running easy, but it certainly got easier. And cross-training really helped.

Accept the fact you will have bad runs

[editor's note: Ha! Hahahaha! This is so funny to me. Have a bad run? What???? I've had so many tough runs at this point, I'm excited when one goes well! Seriously though, the tough runs are the ones you learn the most from. You'll be okay, really.]

I had a terrible run in early October. It was awful - I had gone with the group (it was one of those 4:45am runs) and the guy in front set the pace - this crazy 9-minute mile that went on for what seemed like hours. It was still really dark out, so I kept up with the group more out of fear of being mugged in the dark streets of Summerlin than out of the desire to run fast. And when we finished, I was destroyed. It was a horrible experience. My legs hurt, my head hurt, and I was wiped out mentally.

I didn't run for three days after that. And when I finally got the courage to don the non-cotton socks again, I was away for the weekend for a Junior League Conference. Courtney and I dragged ourselves out of the hotel for an early morning run, and I begged to go slowly. She did, and we ended up doing 3.5 miles. That was all I had in me. I was still too afraid that I was going to feel awful or weak or puke or something. (ironic, considering how the actual half marathon went...) But the run went fine and a tiny shred of my confidence was restored.

A couple more runs later proved that yes, I could still do this. A bad run doesn't mean I should quit the sport or give up or that I'm a failure - it was just a bad run. And better runs are right around the corner.

The first mile is the hardest

I love it when people say things like, "I don't even think I could run a mile." I want to say, "Yes, you can - the first mile is the worst!" To me, the first three miles are the worst. You're still working out the kinks and getting stretched out - your shoe doesn't feel right, that lace is bugging you, and why does your knee feel funny? I try to tell myself that the first three miles are basic diagnostic testing - what corrections should I make now in order to avoid injury longer into the run?

I've since learned that your body gets into a natural rhythm once all of the kinks have been worked out. And if you are really lucky, you'll hit that magical "runner's high." For me, miles 6-10 are consistently my favorite; I've zoned out, my body is warmed up, and I'm really into the flow of the run. But it takes a little time to get there. Be patient.

Prepare for the mental part of it
(updated 01/14)

Ironic considering the name of this blog is the Bedrest BOOK CLUB, but reading about running never actually occurred to me until two years in. After four years of watching SuperWhy!, you'd think I would know that if I have a question, we look...in a book! Either way, I'm glad I started to supplement my long runs by exercising my noodle as well.

If you are just starting out, my top three book recs would be:

-- "The Cool Impossible" by Eric Orton
-- "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall
-- "Marathon" by Hal Higdon

Eric's book is great for beginners because he really breaks down the mechanics of it. He starts with basic foot exercises that you can easily do at home, and slowly incorporates stability and strengthening, all before you've even run a step. He also makes you want to move to Jackson Hole, Wyoming (where he lives and trains). And the last part - the part about how to create a running mantra - was critical for me at the marathon. I'm the first person to shrug something off as cheesy or silly, but this was super helpful (although you might feel cheesy or silly doing it. But you'll need it!) Strong, brave and ready, baby!

"Born to Run" is obviously a staple in this list. If you don't know why I freakin' love this fist-pumping anthem to hitting the pavement, read my review here. Recreation has its reasons, yo.

And "Marathon," by the great Hal Higdon, is just a classic. He offers sound advice in this kind, paternal narrative. I'm not so sure I agree with some of the nutritional advice (PopTarts?), but the guy has run like, 100+ marathons and he's well into his 80s (90s??). 

The best part of the book is when at a marathon, another runner tells him, "I beat you! I can't believe I beat you!" and Hal replies, "No, you simply finished before me." I love that. That's running in a nutshell; it's not about me vs. you, but me vs. me. People that are caught up in numbers (yes, I was one of them) are usually the newbies or the unenlightened. I know now, having finished a full, that it doesn't matter if you did it in 2:35 or 7:59. You finished and THAT'S the important part. The number is not important to anyone but you (and you only care so you can PR the next one). Finishing times are intensely personal. They are not meant to be compared between people, but instead, just within ourselves. Hal's book (which has been through multiple reprints) is a great place to start to wrap your mind around what it really means to be a runner.

Notable mentions:  "Eat and Run" by Scott Jurek (review here) to give you perspective about those three miles you are about to run. He runs 135 mile races without stopping. You can get through that 5K, trust me. And also try "Running and Being" by Dr. George Sheehan. Much more philosophical with some great, meaty quotes, but I'm just not a fan of his clipped, shorted sentences. (sorry, George). What can I say? I'm more Woolf than Hemingway. 
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Happy trails, friends!