S-T-R-E-T-C-H

Four years of yoga down the drain. That's what I feel like. For four years I attended a local yoga class 2-3x/week and loved it. I would not describe myself as a naturally flexible person but I made real headway, able to twist myself into some pretzel like shapes, hold some challenging balance poses, and head-to-knee pose with hands flat on the floor was pretty much a no-brainer. 

Then I got serious about running. 

And added weight training. 

And because I was exercising two hours a day, most days, I could not see clear to find a way to keep yoga in my life more than once a week, at best. Now I'm paying the price. 

Even a moderate bend at the waist produces screaming in my super tight hamstrings. I dangle my fingers toward the floor and am amazed I was once able to touch it. I did a yoga tape the other day--my easy "old lady" one--and was instantly frustrated (and embarrassed) at how the "easy" poses had now become challenging. Even a seated head-to-knee pose isn't happening. I fling my arms out and grasp my toes and hang on for dear life, grimacing against the pain as I fight to keep my legs straight. Lowering my head to my knees? Fuggedaboutit!

Aside from that, I just don't feel good. My body hurts, everything is sore. I find myself bending my knees to reach down and pick something up versus just swooping down and grabbing it. I feel like I've lost an important connection with myself.

So there's nothing for it but to dive back in. I've started doing the "old lady" 30-minute yoga tapes at least once a day, and am dragging my mat around the house, stretching in 5-10 minute increments as my schedule allows. It's only been a couple of days and already I'm feeling better. Looser.

Hear that floor? I'm coming for ya! 

First Race Since Boston

MadMayo RunnersToday was the 15th Annual 5K race in Kernersville. The race holds a special place in my heart as it was the very first race I ever ran, four years ago. That being said, I spent most of the 3.1 miles contemplating the fact that I hate running 5K's. 

I'm not fast. Or rather, I'm not good at being fast. I say this and I mean it: I would rather run a marathon than a 5K. Short races are all about sucking it up and going at it as hard as you can. They hurt. They break me, physically and mentally. I walked 3 times in this race. Three times in 3.1 miles! The first two times I'll chalk up to mental weakness. I was tired and my legs and lungs were on fire because I was running probably faster than I was trained for. But I could have kept going. The third time galls me. Right at the end of the course, with less than the .1 to go -- on a downhill to add insult to injury -- I developed a serious stitch in my right side. It hurt to run and hurt to breathe. I jogged it in, but nothing like the flying finish I had been anticipating, where I'd make up lost time from my brief earlier walk breaks. 

All that whining aside, I had a good race! I PR'd with a time of 22:30, beating my last year's time at the same race by 34 seconds. The weather was absolutely stunning and what makes this race a favorite of mine is the chance to see so many friends who also run it. Most people I spoke to PR'd and several MadMayo runners brought home some hardware. I pulled second in my age group, 10 seconds behind the first place woman. (Am I gnashing my teeth over the fact I could have won my age if I hadn't been such a little wussy and walked so much? If you have to ask the question, you don't know me at all.)

Blair ran the race as well and had an excellent run. I told MadMayo Runners toting their hardware!him I was proud of him and he said, "Well, I'm happy that me having a good run makes me more--"

"Desirable as a companion?" I interjected, grinning.

He laughed. "Yes, exactly." 

Great job today to Josh, Jack, Iris, Nathan, Pat, Carlos, Kay, Mindy, Christine, Pam, John, Will, Thad, Shana and, of course, Blair!

Does Running A Marathon Give You An Edge Up On Life?

Any Biggest Loser fans out there? How amazing was it when Daris finished his marathon in 4:02? I know I was bouncing on the edge of my seat, screaming in joy at the TV as he crossed the finish line. A few weeks earlier I had doubted whether he'd really run a 5K in just over 21 minutes. No more doubt. That boy is a runner through and through.

What interests me when someone completes a marathon for the first time is how often they talk about how now that they've completed a marathon, they know they can tackle anything in life. In the pages of Runner's World magazine or on blogs, runners talk about pulling strength and conviction from having survived what is quite often a grueling race and translating that into a can-do attitude for their home, family, and career.

I'm envious. I'm enormously proud of being a marathon runner but, for me, having completed a marathon means that I know I am capable of completing a marathon. I don't suddenly feel more confident as a writer, friend, or wife. I don't hold a quiet inner certainty that I can now handle whatever life throws at me. On the contrary, I like running because, unlike life, I feel it's something [somewhat] within my control. Give me 26.2 miles and I know I can get the job done. Tell me to sit down and write a novel and the panic sets in. 

I admire people who can translate accomplishments in one area of their life over to give them strength in another. Seems healthy. Me, I'm a bit too compartmentalized for that. Running is running, writing is writing, marriage is marriage... you get the idea. 

Still, I wouldn't trade the satisfaction I've felt at finishing all my marathons (even the horrible awful super-painful one) for anything. I feel good about myself for having set a goal and achieved it. Maybe that's the satisfaction runners are referring to. 

What about all of you? Have you accomplished something in one area of life that you feel has given you confidence in other areas?