In 2010 I ran one thousand, one hundred and eleven kilometers.  Completing two half marathons (the latter being a PR of 1:53) and my first ever marathon in Las Vegas with a finish time of 4:12. My running became an obsession as it was a place I could retreat and be thoughtless. It was an escapism that was much needed at that time.

When 2011 rolled around I had grandiose fitness goals, which have all taken the back seat. I’ve managed  to keep in shape with a combination of spinning, lots of core work and believe it or not, tons of hot yoga. But thus far in over six months I’ve ran a measly 252 kilometers.

My friend CC is running the Scotia Half Marathon this Sunday and she’s asked me to be by her side. Without hesitation I told her I would be there. There’s just one problem; I haven’t run in over a month!  On Monday I laced up and went out.  I felt physically strong and rested but my lungs felt as if someone was pressing down on them, blocking my air flow for the first 4 km. I actually had to stop and catch my breath three times. (Unheard of!) After crossing Burrard Bridge I found a happy pace and a suitable breathing rhythm. The 7 km run which I easily used to complete in under 38 minutes took me 45, but I didn’t care, I had my runner’s high back!

I managed to squeeze in two more short runs this week each feeling a bit easier than the other. My lungs are slowly recovering and seem to be getting over the ‘shock’.  I’ve got months and months of serious training ahead of me if I want to get back my peak fitness level I was merely seven months ago; but I can’t dwell on that right  now. This week I have one goal only; FINISH the half marathon on Sunday. As CC’s running partner I have absolutely no expectation of my own yet I do admit the knowledge that my last run over 9 km was back on April 2^nd is a bit concerning. But on race day, I’ll just keep moving on … mimosas are being served at the finish line.

Ill just keep moving on

PT Girl xo

My spring cleaning is never planned or scheduled.  Every year a strange feeling builds inside me for a few weeks. I get antsy and irritable. My thoughts are scrambled and everything feels chaotic. I usually can’t pinpoint what’s bothering me and that makes me even grumpier. When I’m crabby I tend to internalize and question everything. “What the hell I’m I doing with this life of mine!?” 

This year like most years, “IT” took over when least expected. I’d just showered after my afternoon run and was sipping my coffee and watching CNN when I decided to empty the dishwasher.  Then out of nowhere “IT” consumed me. I went into a cleaning frenzy, I was in a trance; boxing up clothes for donation, recycling endless paper, throwing away junk that I’ve accumulated over the year, reorganizing cupboards and drawers and scrubbing my home from top to bottom. Five hours flew by; there was no stopping me. I ignored my phone calls and text messages; which if you know me, is almost unheard of.  My stomach growled but I didn’t eat or even sit down for a second. Well past dinner time I put the last load of laundry in the drier. I was sweaty, dirty and I exhausted but as I looked around at my organized, sparkling home a sense of peace swept over me.  All was well again!

Somewhere between throwing out needless clutter and lining up my glasses perfectly all my meddled thoughts filed themselves in order without any real effort on my behalf.

With a clear head I was finally able to focus on my training again. My first week back at it I ran over 40 kilometers and to be honest I felt pretty cocky. “Piece of cake!” I thought. Week two handed me a severe dose of reality; my longest run since my marathon in December was a 16 km last Saturday and it kicked my butt. My breathing was out of control, my pace was inconsistent and my legs were easily tired.  It took everything in me to maintain a sub six minute per km pace. “This winter has really taken a toll on my cardio”.  I don’t know if it’s right or wrong but this week I’ve been focusing on speed work. I pushed myself to the verge of throwing up while running short distance sprints. I’m hoping the agonizing pain I’ve inflicted on my lungs will in turn make my long ‘slow’ run this weekend seem more manageable. With only three weeks of training left before the BMO half marathon I’m definitely not planning on setting any personal bests but I’m looking forward to the return of race fever! Whoot Whoot!!!

 PT Girl xo

Last week I was away in a place where night is day and day is night. A city that is bountiful in history, where spirits seem to always be amongst you. A place where anything goes and everyone is welcome. A home to endless drinks and an abundance of Cajun food. A Southern location that is truly unique and special.

Last night I lay in bed, my internal clock completely turned around and a million thoughts  racing out of control in my mind. It’s already mid-march and I feel as though I haven’t accomplished anything when it comes to my training goals. My friend Loa says I’m an expert at balancing life but I definitely don’t feel that is true thus far this year. The thought of getting back to reality after the return of such a great getaway was uninspiring and then it dawned on me…

“F*&# I’m running out of time!”  with just a month left before the The Vancouver SunRun. This is one of the biggest 10k race in North America where more than 55,000 runners gather.  I can run a 10k in my sleep, hung-over or sick but I’m determined to break my 2009 record of 54:34 (5:27 per km). Consistency and speed work is scheduled for the next four weeks and my goal is to run a sub 50 minutes race. Two weeks later I run the BMO half marathon; I’m praying the rain stays away this year.  

The clocks sprung forward this weekend and I’m excited to finally be able to hit the pavement after work. Time to log some serious miles over the next six weeks.

PT Girl xo

After my marathon in Vegas in early December I sorta let things slide. First I told myself I was allowed a few weeks recovery, then the Holiday season arrived, which was followed by birthday celebrations and then NFL playoffs. The Super Bowl was my big finale. The culmination of circumstances made it memorable indeed but also brought forth a feeling of unhealthiness that was unshakable.

Therefore, in attempts to cleanse and get back into shape I decided to embark on a 20 day detox & fitness rebuild program.  Day one was horrible; I was sweating out champagne while riding the bike. Day two I saw my trainer for the first time since before the holidays and I seriously thought I was going to meet my maker.  I kept at it and by Sunday while out on my run I felt human again. My lungs were open; my legs were light and fast.  Day eight came and I meet with my trainer again. He pushed me much harder this time and although it was a difficult workout I didn’t feel as though I was going to collapse, I actually felt pretty strong. It’s absolutely incredible what a week sans booze, proper nutrition& hydration, good sleep and exercise can do to a body!

Yesterday was a struggle but I managed to squeeze in a 45 minutes ride on the bike. Today is day nine. I’m almost half way there but the gloom lurking over Vancouver is slowly sucking the life out of me….

PT Girl xo

It’s been dark and wet in Vancouver. Maybe I’m exaggerating but it felt as though I hadn’t seen the sun for over a month. With much struggle I woke every morning to darkness.  My commutes were grey, I sat at my desk and watched the rain fall and then I returned home to the night. Coworkers and friends were grumpy and irritable; lack of vitamin D will do that to the cheeriest of people. It’s seasonal disorder or more simply put “the January Blahs”. Those of you who’ve been following my blog for a while know well enough I’m not a big fan of running in the rain, so it should come as no surprise when I say that I didn’t run in January; that is until Sunday morning when I rose to the blazing sun.  I inhaled my oatmeal and couldn’t get my sneakers on fast enough! With no expectation of my performance I bolted out the door with my ipod in hand. I must admit I’d been hard on my body; consuming alcohol and even choking back the odd cigarette while out with friends. Plus my exercise this year had been reduced to about 3-4 hours a week on my indoor bike trainer and that’s about it; I anticipated I wasn’t going to be at my best and was fully prepared to take it easy, enjoy the run and soak up the rays.

I headed left towards Science World. By the time I got to the South Side of False Creek all thoughts had slipped away and I pick up my pace. “I forgot how therapeutic running is!” As I  ran over Burrard Bridge I decided to take the opportunity to enjoy our spectacular scenery.

When I arrived home I realized I still had it in me; running a 10k in fifty three minutes. I felt fantastic! The sun decided to bless the Vancouverites on Monday as well, so I ran again. That evening registration for the Chicago 2011 marathon opened. I remembered all the buzz around this race last year and knew I had to be part of it this time around.  My friend CC, BonBon and I are registered and will be running along with 45,000 other participant’s on Oct 9, 2011.  I’m eager to start training and I am determined to break new personal bests. But I’m also super excited for my friends; they’ve committed to a training journey that will challenge and change their minds and bodies.  A journey, which only a small percentage of people in the world dare embark on; and I can’t wait for them to cross the finish line and realize that absolutely anything is possible!

PT Girl x0

2011 began as most new years’ do… hung over! The only difference is this year I was nursing my headache on the slopes at Whistler; with a little less than four hours of sleep I impressed myself by skiing all day, which was then followed by “après ski” at the Longhorn, which turned into another early morning.

My birthday was yesterday but the festivities started on Friday and didn’t stop for four days. Sharing all the highlights here would take a while but one of the best parts was sitting at Qwest Field in Seattle with my friend Alicia proudly wearing black & gold while surrounded by 67,000 Seahawk fans in blue and bad neon green. With a point spread of 10.5 in favour of the New Orleans Saints I can assure you that their loss was unexpected. I didn’t hold back my disappointment nor am I shy in expressing my dislike of the Seahawks in general but I must admit the fans were cordial and the energy in the stadium was infectious; especially when the 12^th man roared!!

Amongst all the Holiday festivities I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my fitness accomplishments as well as other aspect of my life. 2010 was filled with failures, changes and difficult decisions but 2010 also encompassed personal bests, new adventures and eye awakening moments.

So after much thought, much debate and much self inflicted guilt I’ve decided not to do Iron Man Canada this year. There, I said it!!! *gulp* I know that some of you (you know who you are) are shaking your heads at me but after making a list of pros and cons, discussing for countless hours with my friends and losing many nights of sleep I decided I had to be true to myself; my heart is not in it. Having Iron Man on my bucket list isn’t motivation enough to train over 20 hours a week right now. I’m just not in a place where I am willing to dedicate the next eight months of my life to only training.  What I do know is that over the last few months I fund a new zest for life.  My goal for 2011 is to have a balanced year that will allow for spontaneity. Focus on my work is high on my list of priorities and so is travel. But don’t get me wrong, I have no intention on losing my passion for fitness. I will spend more time skiing, snowshoeing and taking advantage of British Columbia’s great outdoors. I want to ride my bike lots this spring and I also want to get back into hiking. I’m still seeing a personal trainer, attending infrared yoga and getting lots of use out of my indoor bike trainer. I’m excited to start my new running program that will prepare me for a sub 4 hour marathon in Chicago and I will most likely throw in a few half marathons along the way.

Stay tuned, as I promise 2011 will be filled with exciting, fun fitness adventures.

PT Girl xo

Almost two weeks have gone by since I landed in Las Vegas. Being my sixth visit to Sin City I knew how trying it was going to be to resist temptation for the two days prior to the race. I was a bundle of nerves, doubting myself. “I’m not ready!” I said to my friend CC. “Calm down or I’m going to slip you a roofie! You’re ready!!” She said.  We were tucked in bed by ten pm on Saturday; restless I tossed and turned as butterflies had a party in my belly. I stared at the ceiling replaying my training (or lack thereof) over in my mind. The alarm went off at 4:45 am; we laid in our beds waiting for our pre ordered breakfast to be delivered. Before leaving I filled my water bottle with XXX Vitamin Water, put six Gu candies cut in half in my back pocket and popped an electrolyte pill.

The Rock & Roll Marathon started and ended at the Mandalay Bay Hotel. Standing amongst 27,000 other runners a surreal calm overcame me; confident all of a sudden I was ready to go! The gun went off. We didn’t move, it was well over fifteen minutes later when we finally crossed the start line. “See you girls at the finish.” I waved and took off.  The entire strip was closed off for the race. This was an unbelievable way to see it in its entirety. In all my visits here I’d never walked more than two blocks of the strip at once; maybe because I’m usually inebriated and wearing five inch heels?!  I ran by MGM Grand and New York New York. I flew by the Bellagio and then the Venetian. Feeling fantastic I passed the Wynn and then headed out towards Old Vegas.  I passed a cheap motel and saw an old man handing out draft beers to the runners. “Oh that would add to my story…” I thought smiling at him and shaking my head as to say no thanks. All of a sudden I found myself stuck behind a large group of runners; feeling good I decided to hop on the side walk to pass them. I looked up for a second to acknowledge a lady that was cheering me on and before I knew it, I was ejected through the air and hit pavement, skidding on the entire right side of my body. I picked myself up before the lady had a chance to make it over to me “Oh my god are you ok?” she asked concerned.  The right sleeve of my shirt had been torn and I could feel a burning sensation and see some blood. “I’m fine.” I said and took off again. Leave it up to me to slip on the one lonely Gu pack that was on the sidewalk.  I could feel my right hip throbbing from the road rash as well but refused to let it slow me down. As I veered back onto the strip at mile eight I’d manage to completely forget about my spill. From that point on, without stopping I forced myself to grab a cup of water from each station. As I approached the thirteenth mile I could see the excitement in many of the half marathoner’s, picking up speed to get to the finish line. I on the other hand popped another electrolyte pill and turned right gearing up for the second half of my race. I ran over the hill with ease and was still feeling fabulous at fifteen miles. I’d created the perfect play list which kept me pumped. Nothing like Boney M. Christmas song followed up by some dirty Ke$ha to keep me going. At eighteen miles I started to feel my legs and I slowed a little bit. But then my mind went to a place I didn’t know existed, a place where no thoughts existed, a place where the only thing that mattered was keeping a nice happy pace. A place that made me run fast, easy, & smooth without having to think about it. “It’s all new miles from here on, so make em’ count.” I thought as I ran by the twenty-one mile marker. I tried to relish the last few miles pretending it was just another Saturday morning hangover run rather than fixate on the fact it was the last 5 miles of a marathon; physiologically this actually made the last leg of the run enjoyable. As I ran back over the hilly bridge I gained momentum knowing I was mere minutes away from finishing. I started to run faster; just before I turned back onto the strip I noticed a big sign that said “26.2 miles” and I started to get chocked up. “No! no! Get it together and run!” Five hundred meters away from the finish I saw my friends on the side lines yelling “GO PT GIRL!!!!” waving their pom poms. This gave me the extra kick I needed to cross the finish without slowing.

4:13:10 and I was done my very first marathon!  I was totally pumped!! I’d meet my goal of 6 minutes per kilometers down to the second.

I walked round with a bagel in one hand and water bottle in the other.  It was impossible to find my friends in a sea of 50,000 people and visualizations of a hot shower was over -powering so I made it to the taxi line up at the front of the Mandalay Bay Hotel. There I was faced with a lineup of thirty people that weren’t moving. Frustrated after standing there for thirty minutes I eyed a stretch limo that had just pulled up and next thing I knew I was sitting in the back. Some things are just worth paying for!

My friend CC ran her first half marathon in five years , her friend Bonbon took ten minutes off her previous half marathon time and I ran my first marathon; needless to say we were all high on adrenaline and after being “good” for two nights were ready for a night on the town. All the girls got dolled up; I wore a mini dress and four inch heels. After some great eats at TAO we made our way to The Bank at the Bellagio. Twelve girls = free cover and too many free drinks We laughed hard, danced the night away under fake snow and meet tones of random fun people (and some douchebags as well).  The girls slowly dropped off and by three am there were only the last four hard core standing. We decided it would be best to head back to our hotel, the Aria. A riveting conversation with the taxi drivers had us in stitches as we stumbled out.  Some chicken wings, ten lapse around the casino chatting on the phone and another glass of wine (not necessarily in that order) and next thing I knew it was five am. I’d been up for 24 hours… then I crashed!!

In summary I must say this was the best first marathon I could have ever asked for. I wouldn’t change a single thing! I want to thank all my friends and family for their support as well as their understanding of my neuroticism.  A special thanks to IronMike who’s been there since my first ten k race telling me “I can do it!” Three year ago when he said “Watch out it’s a slippery slope you’ll be running marathons soon!” I laughed and said “As if, never!”

“To describe the agony of a marathon to someone who’s never run it is like trying to explain color to someone who was born blind.” Jerome Drayton

PT Girl xo

The weekend after I got back from New Orleans I geared up to run 34 km with IronMike and was hit with a severe dose of reality! My legs were heavy, my breathing was erratic and my knee was killing me. Defeated I grabbed a cab at 20 km and went home.  That week I hydrated and gave my body proper nutrition. I stretched at hot yoga, popped fish oil and bought new sneakers. The following Friday IronMike and I attempted the long run again.  Up until the 27^th kilometer I was feeling great and kept well under six minutes per kilometer. As we ran over Burrard Bridge (around 32 km) my glutes and hamstrings got really tight, my legs slowed and my mind went to a dark place. “Why the f** am I doing this? I want to stop! This is mad!” I thought. Then out of nowhere I pulled it together. “It’s Friday night after a long day at work and I’m running 30+ kilometers… I can finish this!” We rounded the corner and there was my condo. “That’s it!” I said stopping and instantly stiffening up; there was a pain in my legs I’d never felt before. After a difficult stretch and a hot shower I poured myself a strong drink to numb the pain and slept like a baby for eleven hours.

Marathon training was the furthest thing from my mind the following weekend as I sat in the back of a town car with my girlfriends and drove around Sonoma on a wine tasting tour; which was followed by a night of debacles out at the bar in San Francisco.

As this difficult year approaches an end certain events and people I’ve stumbled upon in the past month have unintentionally made me evaluate other aspects of my life. It’s ironic how situations and people who once upon a time were my biggest motivators deliberately or not have become the contrary. I know everyone comes into our lives for a reason; some are meant to be around for a long time and others for a short time.  Although I feel all endings are sad I’m focusing on the positive aspects; such as the knowledge that was passed along and the athletic growth I’ve gained.

With that being said I’ve started a different training program with a new triathlon coach named Al.  We meet at the pool this week because the 3.8 km Iron Man swim is my biggest concern.  Al’s training approach and philosophy is different than what I’ve experienced in the past but let’s be honest, I’m venturing into foreign territory. I think it’s wise to be guided by a professional rather than going at it alone and blinded folded?! “You don’t know me but you have to just trust the program!” Al said after we spent an hour and half doing drills in the pool. Afterward we went for dinner to discussed my previous training. We talked about my reasons for signing up for Iron Man,  how much time I have to train weekly, as well as my intense race schedule for 2011. I left the meeting feeling confident that I’ve made the right choice by hiring him. He’s extremely experienced and will be there to keep me accountable on a weekly basis.

This Saturday I woke up and realized that somewhere between my work schedule and my travels I’d gone two weeks without running (again). Of course I panicked thinking I’ve ‘lost my fitness’ and got out there right away.  My legs wanted to run and they wanted to run fast. I ran nine km in forty-eight minutes and felt fantastic!  So when my friend CC asked me to go along with her on a 18 km run this morning I said “Why not?!”

At this time next week I will hopefully be a marathoner.  I admit I’ve been somewhat unhealthy lately; drinking, not eating as well as I should and messing with my sleeping patterns. But I wouldn’t change a thing, nor is there anything I can do at this point; no amount of running or training will make me faster or stronger by next week. I recognize I could have done more. I stopped hitting the track and running my hill drills; I was inconsistent with my training these past four weeks. But I’m not going to worry about it. I’m mentally preparing myself and I’m excited to run! I’m excited to experience the pain! I’m going to Vegas to run my first marathon. Life is good!!!

PT Girl xo

I could go on about how each night started at the Sazerac Bar, how generous the staff was pouring us Veuve mimosas at one in the morning and how many bourbons we drank. I could talk about how gorgeous the hotel was and how we were treated like long lost friends. I could bore you to death and go on for days about the football game and how great it was to be part of the “Who Dat Nation” experience while watching the Saints kick Pittsburgh’s ass. I could share stories of the NFL players and Ozzy Osbourne staying at the Roosevelt Waldorf Astoria or chatter about how late (early) we stayed up and rose out of bed only when the sun went down.  Or even better yet I could tell you about how I almost missed my flight home…

But I rather share how New Orleans awakened a part of me that has been sleeping for some time and opened my eyes to living in the moment again. The city of New Orleans has definitely seen some hard times but that hasn’t broken its spirit. It is alive and well. There are certain events and people that remind us that the possibilities are endless. Genuine kindness helps us to remember that the world is a beautiful place, to be grateful for what we have and to live every day to its fullest! Life is about taking chances and we should embrace the unknown,  it’s actually a gift! Although life may not always lead us where we want or think we should be, fate will always land us exactly where we are meant to be and that, my friends, is what I took away from my fabulous five days in wonderful New Orleans.

PT Girl xo

There was a clearing in the weather system and the sun came out on Saturday morning.  Mike and I jumped at the chance at getting my first ride done in dry weather. “Let go to the parking lot for quick clip in & clip out lesson” he suggested. My god, what a gong show!  Round and round the parking lot I went trying to clip out. “I got…I got…ohhhhh shit” I laughed as I tumbled over, my feet still clipped in, my bike over top on me as I lay on the pavement. “It happens to everyone; especially when it’s your first day out.  Now that you’ve gone down it probably won’t happen again.” Mike tried to re-assure me. I got back up and rode around some more… and I fell again and again and yup… AGAIN. It was actually quite comical. “Ok I think I got it, let go for a real ride now.” I said.

We headed towards the seawall, which was crowded with people strolling with their morning coffees, walking their dogs and jogging.  We were going slowly, which gave me the opportunity to get comfortable on the bike and  practice clipping in and out some more.

As we approached Stanley Park Mike said “You can ride as fast as you want now, we’re staying on the road!” I spent the first lap of the park trying to get used to being on the bike, figuring out which position was most comfortable.  As we approached the park’s hill (my BMO half marathon nemesis) Mike suggested I change gears. “Nah… maybe later” I answered pushing through as is.  As we reached the top my legs were burning and I had visions of the Richter Pass; the never ending climb on the IronMan Canada course; I shook the thoughts away “Months and months away …” I reminded myself.

When we got at the bottom of the hill Mike looked at me.  “That was 10 km, are you good to go around again?” I looked at him “Yup, we’re doing 50 km today.”

By the fourth lap of the park I’d figured out my gears and the bike was feeling like an extension of my body.  I went flying down the hill taking the turn at 52 km/hr. “I love it! I love it! I love it!!”

The last time up the hill my legs were tired, it was definitely my slowest climb. As we finished the fifth lap we decided to head back to the seawall towards Yaletown; everything was going perfectly. I had managed to clip out in two emergency situations in the park, I’d mastered my gears and rode well over 50 km my first time out. I must have been day dreaming or maybe I just got cocky as I flew down the path and took the turn way too wide. All of a sudden I found myself staring right into the eyes of another cyclist. I froze “Oh shit!!! I can’t clip out!” I yelled and threw my bike into the bushes to avoid a head on collision.

The guy was nice and helped me up. “New rider?” he smiled. “Yes…” I blushed.

Mike came back for me. “I saw you take that turn,  looked back and all of a sudden you were gone!” he said laughing.  What  an awesome finish to a great first ride

The next day I woke up with a few scrapes and bruises but besides that absolutely no pain! I can’t wait to for my next ride.

PT Girl xo