A Runner’s Goodbye

I strongly find saying goodbye unenjoyable. Being able to properly, appropriately, and un-awkwardly bid farewell to people, places, and things does not tend to be my forte. So when the boyfriend and I made the tough decision to change the location of our California adventure from Orange County back up to the Bay Area, I wasn’t sure how I was going to offer the opposite of salutations to the friends, family, and locations I had come to find comfort in.

So I started running.

Rather than attempting to have dinner and drinks with J, my most faithful running buddy in the OC, we took a run through Corona Del Mar and talked about her upcoming wedding, my impending move, what the future held and what the past had been like. Rather than trying to express to Sacha over coffee how good of a friend she’d been, we pounded the sand at Seal Beach and talked about boys, the woes of being freelance artists, the future, the past, and probably ligaments (we never didn’t discuss health in some form or another).

Rather than stopping by the coffee shops and eateries, the mall I walked when I was bored, the bars we hopped and the trails we walked, I incorporated them into my running routes. As I passed by, I would silently acknowledge the good times in an almost prayer sort of way, revering the moments spent with them. There went Gypsy Den, Memphis, the sushi place whose name I never learned, the delicious Asian fro-yo stop, TJ Maxx, Dee-Lux and of course, the Back Bay.

It was eventually impossible to properly say goodbye while I was in motion. I couldn’t run by my cousin’s house in order to thank her for the kindness she lavished on me and my boyfriend, nor could I run by her sister’s house and express how much I’d miss her wisdom and conversation, nor could I run by my aunt’s house and tell her that she’s just as good and sweet and wonderful as my own mom. Those are the sort of things I’m not sure can really be expressed in silent reflection or in words. No matter how many times I say it, I’ll never be able to feel like I have filled their cups or made them understand. I ran anyway though, and hoped that my feet were offering good vibrations through the air and into their hearts.

So I went to my last spin class and basked in the motivation of my favorite instructor, hit the gym for the last time and basked in the gloriousness that was having a steam room, and finally went on my last run at sunset when all the cars have made their way home and there’s a soft glow throughout Orange County, and whispered “goodbye” as only a runner really can.

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Dog Days of Running

While on one of my usual running routes today, I passed by what is normally a pretty tame “Bark Park” (Orange County’s clever name for dog parks, though why Canine Compound wasn’t favored is beyond me). Typically, the owners and dogs that inhabit this park are mellow-yellows, lazing about in a way that is more akin to my cat than what I would expect from the barkers of the world.

However, I was in for a treat today. As I came into view with my slow running style, one of the pups – a terrier – started going hog-wild at my heels, running right next to me with only a chain link fence between us. He was quickly joined by a collie mix, both barking joyfully and running beside me. And then a lab entered the playing field, and some tiny squish-faced creature that I think might have been…um…an evil koala. In any event, a pack was formed with me as the Alpha, leading the way all the way to the end of the park.

Then, with no celebration for reaching the finish line, the dogs dispersed, silent and quickly.

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A Run Through Arizona

Arizona’s springtime weather makes me think I could learn to love the ol’ AZ after all. With big skies that seem to always be Simpson’s blue, a gentle breeze, and a dry but steady temperature of 75, I was in no disappointed to have escaped my beach town in Orange County for a weekend of couch surfing in Tempe. And of course, I brought my running shoes.

I can’t help it. It’s not vacation if I don’t get to take a jog through new scenery! Run number one went down a bike path and then over to a waterway that looked conspicuously like the California Aquaduct. I encountered several hearty runners who bellowed “Hello!” to me with gusto that is unmatched up and down California, and realized that I have now based my entire thoughts about the running population in Arizona on those bellowers, but I’ll mention it anyway: Arizona runners are friendly!

Also, Arizona runners run at all times of the day. I saw people running from dawn til dusk and every hour in between. There was no oppressive heat, which I suppose made it easy to choose to run at any given time, but still. I felt like I was in a very fit community.

Run number two led me through “Old Town” Scottsdale, and then over into what I dubbed “The Place More Orange County than Orange County” – Passion Island Mall. Or maybe it was Fashion Square Mall. Some that sounded like an OC mall name. Hanging out on the corner of this mall was a Borders that opened eerily early on a Sunday (9am!) and a PF Chang’s. Like all PFC’s this one had an unusual assortment of art lollygagging in front of it, including a peculiar wooden structure.

I ran into the structure to seee if there was something special inside (I love a good surprise!) and found myself in a den of very tall mirrors. And then, some jazzy music started playing. Seriously. Not sure what the purpose was, and not sure I cared, I did what any girl does when faced with mirrors and music: I danced!

Arizona running: Two thumbs up!

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What Are You Orbiting?

As a daily runner, I don’t often get to celebrate victories or cherish running moments because they’re happening every day. So when I do happen to find a victorious moment, I can’t help but share. Sharing is caring, friends.

Today I went out on one of my usual runs that orbits around South Coast Plaza. It’s a really nice jaunt early in the morning when there aren’t too many commuters out yet, the So Cal air is still pretending to be unsmoggy, and all the streetlights are in my favor.

Running around something is almost as fun as running to somewhere; having a definite point or plan for a run keeps me motivated and lets my imagination soar. Today I was pretending to be one of the planets, busily circling the sun and enjoying my place in the universe. I imagined the other runners I passed as being other planets with whom I was creating eclipses with, and the cars were simply meteors I was attempting to not collide with.

What are you orbiting?

My victorious moment came after my run, when I was safely back in my apartment and right before I laid down to do crunches on the living room floor. I checked the clock and saw I had finished the route six minutes faster than I normally do! I’m not sure if it was the dark matter laden imagination or the fact that at soccer last night, our newest team member Bethany was a spunky and fierce sprinter who inspired me to want to be the sort of player that people think, “Holy Macaroni!” when I get on the field.

Either way, I’m celebrating tonight by doing sprints at the gym.

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Partner Up!

When the running gets tough, the tough get friends. And beautiful locations, which isn’t too hard in Orange County, thanks to the ocean boardwalks, and Corona Del Mar.  The nice thing about running friends is this: I enjoy all of them for different reasons.

Last week, I picked up a running buddy on Craigslist. This sounds a little sketchy, I admit. But her ad was friendly, and we emailed back and forth, and she had a Facebook page. We met in a populated and well-lit place, and we actually both had brought pepper spray and had to text our boyfriends once we met up to assure them we were not in the presence of a psycho. While sad that we live in a day and age when all these precautions are necessary (at least in my slightly over-concerned mind), at least she was on my safety-first page.

We ended up having a very pleasant run together – she showed me a part of Orange County I’d never seen, and I pushed her to run for longer than she usually did. Plus we conversed naturally and discovered a mutual residence in Santa Barbara (at different times in our lives), writing, and anything pop-culture related from the 1980’s.

Friend number two was “Sachmo” as the boyfriend has affectionately nicknamed her. She had expressed interest in starting to run before, and I love helping new runners get their running shoes wet! We established a routine of run/walks around town in the early morning hours; she appreciates my ability to not be too hard-core about the whole thing (and goodness, why would I be? If I learned anything from my dad about training it’s that you can’t scare people off), and I like that she gives me a reason to get out of bed. Plus, she gets ready at my house afterward, which makes me totally feel like I’m in college and have roommates. I miss roommates! (I know, I never thought I’d say that either.)

Friend number three was my dear friend J. She knows a gorgeous run in Corona Del Mar that involves hills, stairs, sand, and a community of strange little fitness people who also love hills, stairs and sand (and love talking about their love for it all, too!). I like J because she keeps me realistic. Whereas I want to run for an hour on an empty stomach, J is satiated with moderation and is incredibly smart about working out. Plus, we know each other well enough that we yabber the whole time about crazy topics like the inner workings of the Girl Scouts (she made me like them) and sports fitness, which granted, isn’t that crazy.

I had to run solo today, with only Ira Glass to keep me company; it was a pleasant jog, counter-clockwise on a route I usually do clockwise. But the whole time I wondered if I would be a little too crazy if I just imagined other friends with me and had pretend conversations with them instead. Not that I don’t love Ira…I just like interactive running friends more.

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The Best Running Rain Wear

ed note: see an update of the best running rain wear and tips to staying warm in the midwest winters here!

*

It was a dark and stormy morning. I bound of out bed, slithered into my dry-fit pants, squished on shoes wet from hanging out on the porch during the relentless rain, and then looked around for a water-proof shirt.

Ha.

I live in Orange County, and keeping dry on the outside while running is not often a necessity in these parts. I rejected a cotton jacket that I knew would absorb water like a sand castle in high tide. The rust-orange, water-proof wind breaker that rolls up into itself was passed over because it was so big I might as well have just cut a hole in a garbage bag, and would have been more comfortable. Simply sticking a beanie on my head was going to be too hot. “Hmmm.” I thought. I eventually just went out without any water-protection, and enjoyed being soaked.

However, once I was back at home and dryer than the chess board in the back of our closet (and thinking way too much about how white-tshirts are not conducive to being ignored while exercising in the rain), I continued hunting around for a DIY fix to my rain running problem.

The issue is that runners like clothes that are pretty snug. Having something hanging off of them like a limp bear-skin rug made into a cape makes running uncomfortable. And trust me, even on my most motivated of days, set-backs can make or break my desire to run. Part of the problem is nothing I own is made of outer wicking material, so I didn’t have anything to chop up and build something out of.

Hats were out because I know I’ll get hot with something resting firmly on my head like a perched parrot. Umbrellas create drag, boyfriend’s clothes are too big and obviously not mine to play with, and I love my laptop too much to consider using it as a rain-sleucing device.

I hit the stores. One of my near and dear friends has a Nike Hoodie that she adores, so I went looking for that first. Unfortunately, the cost of it outweighs the benefits. I figured I’d rather get wet. But no one else was selling anything remotely similar – either there were non-hooded options, non-wiking options, baggy options, or worse, all put together. After hunting through REI, Sports Authority, Sports Chalet, Target, TJ Max, Puma, Dick’s Sporting Goods and JC Penny, I was still empty handed.

So what’s a runner to actually do?

Get wet.

That’s my best advice. Throw a headband on your head to keep water from dripping in your eyes, make sure your iPod is protected, and soak it up for forty five minutes. It’s like getting back to nature.

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Hot Hot Heat

My fancy-pants* gym just wowed me a little more, thanks to the single-sex sauna located in the locker room (right next to the single-sex steam room and single-sex hot-tub). Until last week, I hadn’t been in a sauna since I was a pint sized, not too gangly kidlet. Almost certainly, I only went in at that age because my father dragged me in with him in the way that parents have to do when they’re watching their children. I remember it being hot.

Saunas are not particularly en vogue these days, at least in Orange County. The citizens of Irvine and the outlying cities are not busily discussing their latest sauna-stint in the grocery store, nor are they busy building little saunas into every empty plaza suite. Yet saunas are a world-wise, cross cultural heat-producing place, and I as I got out of the pool one day, I started at the little room with a steamed up window and wondered the simple question, why?

Without any preconceived notions of what the sauna could, should and would do for me post work-out, I slipped in that day curiosity had gotten the best of me. The room is made entirely of wood (sans the floor, which was gym-y tile, of course), and rests between the temperatures of 160-180. I’m a little shocked people can exist in that kind of heat, but I’m here to tell the tale. I spread out a towel and sat down, watching the walls and wondering if I was going to experience anything peculiar, like hallucinations or feeling faint at such temperatures. No dice. Just me, heat, and silence. The only irregularity I did notice was that when you move in a sauna, you feel the heat. It pricks your skin in a not entirely unpleasant way. But if you sit still, you don’t really feel much different – just warmly snug as a bug in a rug.

Mainstream known benefits of the sauna seem to be fully focused on having clear pores, clearing the body of toxins, and relaxation. Many sauna-proponents also tout that your immunity will rise because bacteria and viruses cannot survive at high temperatures (which made me think we should just send sick people to Venus. It’s hot there, right?). But what I wanted to know was what were the actual health benefits to hitting up the sauna. Would it help my running? My swimming? My overall health?

According to an article published in 2007, Effect of Post-Exercise Sauna Bathing on the Endurance Performance of Competitive Male Runners, the conclusion was drawn that, “3 weeks of post-exercise sauna bathing produced a worthwhile enhancement of endurance running performance, probably by increasing blood volume.” Look, I love science. But probably? Seriously? I’m an English person – I pick up on indecisive language if only because it’s my job.

There do seem to be a lot of cautions for sauna use, including straining your heart, extreme loss of sweat, and unpredictable blood pressure. That all sounds really fun! Except not, so if you’re going to sauna, be careful and have a good sense of your heart’s capabilities.

So, saunaing for the purpose of being snuggly and warm work out great. As for what it will do for my health…we’ll see.

*I must admit that I still cannot believe I belong to a gym that anyone might describe as “nice.” I was a Gold’s Gym person, or a fitness-center at the apartment complex person. But now, I’m a “it’s possible I’d see an Olympian here” gym person. Can’t lie, it’s pretty spectacular. Kudos to the boyfriend! Nutty, chocolatey kudos!

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Sick? Get Running!

My boyfriend has this wacked-out theory that one needs to rest when they are sick. I cater to the other end of the spectrum, and possess the sane and rational notion that one should simply ignore their illness and go about their merry-cherry day despite any sort of potential feelings of being under the weather. Before I let you decide who is right, let me tell you this story:

I once had the flu in graduate school. The kind of flu that knocks you down while you’re standing at the sink brushing your teeth, and you crawl back to bed so sure the world is falling out from beneath your hands and knees that you barely remember to call in sick to work before you begin shaking with fever. However, on day three of this flu, I got angry at it. Who was this darn flu to get in my way, to take away fun things like hiking at Big Sur and hanging out with my rambunctious feline friend? So I insisted my BFF come over and hang out with me. I got out of bed, put on clothes, puttered around my kitchen, and then we sat down to play Scrabble…three moves in, I asked if I could take a nap, and we could resume our game at a later time.

Right. I’m guessing my boyfriend’s theory is a holds more validity than my own.

Despite knowing this to be true with a complete mirror image of a doubt, I still tend to err on the side of waving off being sick with a flick of my wrist, as if illness were a pesky moth that kept thinking my eardrums were an old sweater.

Apparently, I’m not entire wrong on this. The MayoClinic online doctors say that, “Mild to moderate physical activity is usually OK if you have a cold but no fever. Exercise may even help you feel better by temporarily relieving nasal congestion.” And if the MayoClinic is okaying something, that’s a pretty good reason to consider it yourself.

However, earlier this week, my fever was 101. Still though, I was determined to go for a run. I’ve been sick off and on for almost a month, and I have missed plenty of good running moments due to illness, fatigue, and general lethargy. So I didn’t bother with my temperature, and went out the door.

Fevered running is certainly not advisable. For starters, a fever doesn’t give you the best perception on anything – depth, reality, etc. Thus, judging where curbs are, bumps in the sidewalk, and oncoming cars can be quite a mental challenge. Plus, I kept seeing webby shadows in my peripheral vision that I mistook for the Loch Ness Monster (just my luck that my brother’s most vile fear would actually be something worth fearing). Those darn hallucinations almost merited using my pepper spray, which I was gripping as though it might help me keep my head on straight enough to get home.

Running while having chest congestion is probably not advisable because it makes your chest hurt a little. For me, though, it can loosen up lung rocks that so unkindly settle in for a long winter’s nap in the base of my chest. This might not be for everyone, though, so be careful.

My main concern about running while sick is that a fever often makes my heart flap around in its (rib) cage like a locked up finch that used to be free, even at rest. Apparently, I’m not the only person who has noticed this effect, as the internet is a hearty source of information when it comes to trying to answer questions about working out while being ill. About.com says this:

The body needs to be in good health in order to go from the catabolic state caused by the exercise to an anabolic state of recuperation and muscle growth. So if you have the flu, your body is already fighting a catabolic state caused by the Influenza virus. In this case, weight training would only add more catabolism, which in turn would negatively affect the efficacy of the immune system against the virus, causing you to get sicker. Therefore, absolutely no training if you have the flu.

Interesting, right?

So, should you work-out while you’ve got a case of the sickies? I think it depends on how you feel, but also on knowing yourself. I tend to push myself right to the edge of things, so much so that I have all but my feet leaning over a cliff. But I know this to be my personal limit. Yours might be different.

Anyone refuse to get physical when you’re ill? Anyone on my side of the fence?

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Run for the Holidays

The morning of December 25 is one of my favorite days to strap running shoes onto my feet and delight in frosty air filling my lungs. We’re a Christmas breakfast sort of family, so a run must take place plenty early so as not to disturb the natural order of traditions. I tend to rise just after the pitter-patter of reindeer has left the building to avoid the stink-eye from my mom, and to have enough time to not stink as we sip mimosas and munch on coffee cake.

This year, I my brother offered to join me on my run. We haven’t run together in a long time, and I’m the first to admit he’s a far superior athlete than I in every way and shape, with the exception of flip turns whilst swimming and cartwheels (though I firmly believe this is only for lack of trying). As we started off, he mused, “You know, I haven’t run in four months, since we were in Santa Barbara together.” An outsider would not have known this, though, since he pranced beside me, bored enough at times to to basketball hip-swivel drills, or run in cross-cross patterns up hills.

Home is a lot colder than Orange County, to be sure, and has a variety of landscape that cannot be beat. I did not realize just how acclimated I was to a consistent sixty-three degree climate and an endless flat terrain until I was upon my old stomping ground. Without my usual bounce, I plowed through the mountainous hills sans complaint, except for my frozen-to-the-core hands; my brother, in a very chivalrous gesture, offered me his shirt to muffle my hands in.

I have missed the air in my lungs that feels fresh and harsh, a wake-up call every day. The city-scape in the distance, the diverse hillside foliage, the non-stop conversation were all taken for granted, and are certainly lacked in my current homestead. Running at home felt like being at home, and reinforced a homesickness I had almost forgotten about as I have explored my new city.

In any event, the run was glorious, the company was fantastic, and the breakfast, friends and family that awaited our return were certainly beyond description of the highest form.

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No Field Trip for You!

Remember elementary school? Sure you do. So, one of the best things about grade-school is that you get to go on field trips!! I remember plenty of great field trips…the interpretive center, the academy of sciences, the cookie factory. I also remember this one really sad day, when I was sick and unable to go on a field trip my class had planned to the zoo. The zoo!! I missed the zoo! And probably riding in a car with someone else’s parent and possibly a cute boy. The drama!

Well, being sick on a rainy day as an adult is kind of like being sick on field trip day as a kid. One of my most favorite activities is puddle frolicking, seconded closely by taking a run in the rain. This weekend, it poured. It dumped what Orange County considers buckets (Orange County has never been to the Northwest, but that’s a different story). I have not seen rain since I came here. And where was I? Inside.

Yup, Runner’s Delight was firmly entrenched on the couch, wincing every time she swallowed and whining to her very cute boy (at least I got the cute boy!) about her pain and suffering and her missing of the great wet outdoors.

I wish I could write a post about running in the rain of the OC. I can’t. But I can tell you how the OC doctors are on Sunday mornings (not terribly interested in your pain), what the rain in the outside garbage can sounds like (not much) and what ken’s veggie soup tastes like (delicious, even though I thought it was killing me to swallow it).

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