What Running Gave to Me, Part 2: Community

For most of my life, I have been the odd one out in any given situation. I grew up the only girl with three brothers. I went to college and was one of the few Jews, midwesterners (the Californians loved to make fun of how I said ‘pop,’ which sounded to them like paap and should have been called soda anyway), middle-class (as opposed to upper), and liberals. I lived in Mexico for 18 years, where I was often the only American wherever I was, whatever I was doing. I moved back to Chicago and didn’t quite fit in here, either. In grad school, I was about 20 years older than most of my classmates and obviously the only one with kids. At my current job, I am also 15 - 20 years older than most of my coworkers. Since I am so used to being an outsider, I feel comfortable there. It would be fair to say I probably even seek to put myself in positions where I am “different” than the rest. Or, at least, I have learned to live with it and not care too much about what others will think of me. I have learned to adapt and relate to people of all ages, genders, religions, socio-economic levels, cultures, and nationalities. The one place I felt like I was not an outsider, despite being the only American, was in my running teams.

I began running while living in Guadalajara, Mexico. I had two young children and a strained marriage, and was thousands of miles away from home. My therapist suggested I do something to reduce stress. Physical activity, she suggested, would help me feel like I could handle life’s difficulties better. At first, I ran on my own, eventually building up to half marathon distance. I ran my first half in February 2014 and my second one month later. After dropping nine minutes on my time and feeling so much stronger, I decided it was time to run a marathon. So I registered for Chicago 2014 and found myself a coach. What I didn’t realize as I walked up to the running group hanging out in the park, was that these people and the others I would meet through running would save my life as much as the actual running would.

During the six years I ran in Guadalajara, my running friends became my family. I spent hours upon hours with them. They saw me break down and build myself back up. No, actually, we all broke down together, and together, we built ourselves back up. We ran in the forest, on the track, on the highway, in the park. We ran in the heat, in the rain, and even in hail. It didn’t matter where any of us came from or what we did for a living. There were doctors, lawyers, electricians, architects, teachers, and department store clerks. Some people ran sub 3-hour marathons, and others ran over 5 hours. But it didn’t matter. We all showed up every day for each other and for ourselves. And that made us a community. I had a sense of belonging with my running community that I have rarely felt in my life.

I have been thinking a lot about community recently. Community is a group of people that look out for each other. It gives you a sense of security, knowing that if you ever need anything, you have your community to support you. Community is a feeling that you belong. When I meet another runner, even if for the first time, I know we have a shared bond. We recognize a certain level of tenacity, grit, pride, and dedication in the other. We can always find common ground, even if there are only 26.2 miles of it. I miss my running community from Guadalajara. They got me through some tough times. And I am thankful for you, whoever you are, that is reading this. Because if you’ve gotten this far, you are part of my community.

My First Marathon

My first marathon was the Chicago Marathon in 2014. I had been running for less than a year when I signed up, but it had already changed my life. I started running on the advice of my therapist, who suggested exercise as a way to manage stress. At the time, I was living in Mexico, unhappily married, and had two young children. I knew nothing about marathons or what training would entail. I got myself a coach and joined his running group. In this group I found community, friendship, and a sense of belonging. But that’s a topic for a different post. Today I want to talk about that first marathon. 

I chose the Chicago marathon because Chicago was home. It simply made sense to me to go home where I would have the support of friends and family and I was familiar with the city. I never imagined that people traveled to other places to run marathons, or that the Chicago marathon attracted millions of runners and spectators to the city every year. In fact, I was pleasantly confused about why my training partners in Mexico were planning on going all the way to Chicago for a marathon. I didn’t know that was a thing.

My main running buddy, who I ran most of my long runs with, was a guy named Manuel. Manuel was 10 years younger than me and different in so many ways. He was a creative - worked in video production or advertising or something. He was, for lack of a better term, a hipster. I was not - am not. And yet, it worked. We ran together and grew close. 

A few weeks before leaving for Chicago, my coach started talking about qualifying for Boston. He said that if I pushed myself, I might even be able to do it in this first race. Boston was something that had never even crossed my mind. I just wanted to try to finish a marathon. The seed grew, however, into a bundle of nerves that cast a shadow over my training. On a run with Manuel, I brought up my nervousness. He asked me, “What was your goal when you signed up for the marathon?” I began to answer him with numbers. “Well, Martin says he thinks I can run in 3:35, but I think …” Manuel reminded me that those goals were the coach’s goals for me, not my goals for myself, and asked again, “When you first decided to register for the marathon, why did you do it? What was your goal?” I realized that my original goal was really just to see if I could cross the finish line. I wanted to challenge myself to finish, and that was all. This reminder brought my anxiety level down immensely. I wanted to finish a marathon. And the training I had done up to that point proved to me that I was able to do that. 

The night before the race, I was not nervous. I was excited. I slept well, woke up with energy, and walked/jogged to the start line. On the way, I took everything in. The coolness of the morning, the sunrise over the lake, and the other runners making their way to the start line. I found Manuel by Buckingham Fountain and we gave each other the biggest hug ever. It was time to enjoy the fruits of our labor, ready for a 26-mile celebration.

Manuel and I ran together for the first 18 - 20 miles or so. I pointed out things of interest along the way, we talked, he listened to music (I did not. I wanted to be fully present). We passed through Downtown, Lincoln Park, Boystown, Old Town, UIC, my mom’s house, my aunt’s house, my brother’s house, Little Italy, Chinatown, and Grant Park. I looked at my watch a few times and thought I maybe had a chance at qualifying for Boston (I didn’t know then about the GPS issues downtown). At some point, Manuel stopped to grab an orange slice from a spectator offering them. He told me later that by the time he turned, arm reached out to hand one to me, I was already too far gone. I chose that moment to go up to second gear. I never did hit the proverbial wall. I followed my coach’s instructions and ran conservatively and first, then started to push around mile 20.

I remember crossing the finish line exhausted and so so happy. I’ve often said that after the birth of my two sons, that day was one of the best of my life. It is still difficult for me to put into words, but the feeling of accomplishment I had that day made me feel I could do anything. In fact, the high last long enough that a few days later, on a flight back to where we were living at the time, I forgot to be scared of flying. I still felt powerful, strong, and invincible. 

Once, running a marathon felt like an unattainable dream—something that others could achieve, but not me. Crossing that finish line changed my perspective on what’s possible. It showed me that with dedication, consistency, and a willingness to step outside my comfort zone, I can accomplish more than I thought. This experience has encouraged me to embrace challenges and approach new goals with confidence. Every mile we run is a reminder that we’re capable of growth and achievement, so keep pushing forward and believe in your journey.

To rest or not to rest. That is the question.

I took August off from the newsletter and blog as a mental break, and then got Covid last week. Although I’m physically feeling better, I’ve been struggling to get motivated to write again. It feels similar to coming back after taking a break from running or exercising, and I’ve been thinking about breaks. How do we know when a break is helpful? How do we know how long of a break we should take? What do we do on our break? And how do we get back into a routine after taking a break? To be clear, I am not talking about being sidelined by injury. If you are injured, please see a doctor or a PT. I’m talking about when you feel tired, over-trained, stressed, and generally burnt out. Each of these questions is actually a pretty big topic that probably deserves a separate blog post, but for today, let’s look at the topic broadly. And, full disclosure, I do not and have not followed all of my own advice in this area. 

How do you know when you need a break?

When you’re feeling burnt out, a break may help. Mental or physical burnout can affect performance not only in athletic endeavors but also in work or social and family life. Research shows that burnout can occur if you feel obligated to continue training even when you’re not enjoying it anymore, or when you lack a sense of agency over your work or training. If you are feeling overtrained and stagnant, a break might be helpful. If you’re not at a point in training that a break feels possible, you can try removing your feelings from the equation and practicing discipline. That can get you through a slump when motivation is lacking.

How long of a break is helpful?

That depends. You don’t want to take too much time off that you lose fitness or rhythm. Coming back is always harder than continuing. I think what you do with the break is more important than how long it lasts. Which brings us to…

What do we do on our break?

Make sure you do something really restorative, like spending time with loved ones or getting a massage. Take care of your body in ways you might not have had time to during busier times. Read a book (26.2 Book Club is reading Good for a Girl by Lauren Fleshman this month and I highly recommend it). Meditate. Take a class in something that has nothing to do with work or training.

How do we get back into a routine after a break?

This is tough. As I mentioned earlier, it is generally harder to return to work or training after a break than it is to simply continue. That’s when you have to dig deep and rely on discipline. How you feel about running actually has nothing to do with it. You run because you want to achieve your goals or because you want to stay healthy, not necessarily because you feel like running in that moment. Remind yourself of that as you work on building your routine. Be intentional about carving out time in your day to train. Once you’re in the groove, it will be much easier to keep going.

Of course, preventing burnout is the best option. Keep your eyes out for a blog post on that. In the meantime, I’ll try to practice what I preach, and hopefully help you out along the way.

What Running Has Given Me, Part One.

I have always been a romantic. It shows in my decision-making. When I have a big decision to make, at some point in the process, I usually take a moment to close my eyes and imagine my future self in each of the possible scenarios I am deciding between. I Marie Kondo my decisions, and whichever scenario gives me more joy is usually the direction I lean towards. When I was deciding where to go to undergrad, my dad encouraged me to go to the local community college. His argument was that that was what he could afford at the time. If I got my Associate’s degree and then transferred to a four-year college, I would end up with much less debt. My mom, on the other hand, told me that I was much too smart to go to a community college and that I should follow my dreams. So I went to a very expensive small liberal arts college in L.A. County because L.A. sounded like much more fun than community college in Chicago. I’m still paying off the loans for that school, and I have never once used my Economics degree.

After graduation, I was offered a consulting position in Los Angeles. I decided I didn’t like LA anymore, though, and made the romantic decision again. I moved to the Bay Area to live with a friend who was enrolled in UC Berkeley Law School. I had no job or even a plan. I thought about law school. I sat in on one of my friend’s classes and took the LSAT, but in the end decided it wasn’t for me. I wound up working for a very small nonprofit organization consisting of just me and my boss. I was basically his secretary. After about a year of that, I wanted more. I quit my job, moved back home for a bit, then decided to go to Mexico. My plan went as far as an ESL certification program which would last one month. I ended up staying 18 years.

While in Mexico, I got married, had kids, got divorced, and started running. It was only four months into running that I ran my first half marathon. Right away, I knew I wanted to run a full. I found myself a coach and, for the first time ever, a plan. My coach, Martin, explained how we would build up mileage over the months, and how we would work in speed and strength work. It wasn’t a five-year plan, but five months was longer than any long-term goal I had ever had before.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry once said, “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” Until I ran my first marathon, I had only wishes. So, this is the first thing running has given me. Training for a marathon taught me how to set a goal, make a plan to reach that goal, and how to carry through the plan to accomplish the goal. Crossing that first marathon finish line was one of the best days of my life. To this day, when people ask me what I like about running a marathon, I tell them that it is making a plan and accomplishing a goal that was once thought unattainable. I have learned to set a future goal and plug away each day towards that goal. I have learned that no individual day will make or break the progress, but consistency is what matters most. I learned that even when I make a romantic decision with my heart, when I put a little head into it, my wish can become a goal.

Beginner's Mindset or Imposter Syndrome

For the past couple of weeks I have been taking a Learn to Row class at my local boat club. Although I have been on and around different kinds of boats my whole life, I had never done crew. Just to be clear, I’m talking about the long multi-person boats where people sit backward and row in sync while the coxswain yells orders to them. On the first day of class, we spent half of the time learning the motions on an erg (stationary rowing machine) and the other half learning crew terminology and boat parts. On day two, we sat 4 at-a-time in a boat at the dock just to see how it felt to be in the boat in the water. We had to learn how to carry a very long (and, coach Sam emphasized, very expensive) boat between eight adults of different sizes and strengths. We had to learn how to get in the boat, adjust the footboards, put the oars in the oarlocks, steer the boat, turn around (spin), and row in sync with others on the boat. In other words, it’s a lot more complicated than I had imagined. It has been difficult and confusing and super fun.

This past week I also had the opportunity to do a presentation with my boss at a conference held by the Office of Social Emotional Learning for Chicago Public Schools. We worked really hard planning everything, writing scripts, and making the presentation interactive and informative. My boss was supportive and encouraging. She never once made me feel like I was “less than” or inferior to her. And yet, I was so incredibly nervous when the day came to present. 

All of this has got me thinking about beginner’s mindset and imposter syndrome. Both experiences - rowing and presenting - were new to me, but I was able to approach rowing with a beginner’s mindset, ready to make mistakes and be corrected, open to fail, and learn from my failures. At the conference, I felt like I was expected to be an “expert” on my topic, and I was worried someone would ask a question I couldn’t answer, or point out a mistake I made. In the end, I was able to relax into the presentation and did well. Still, I wonder if I would have enjoyed the process more if I had been able to reframe my lack of experience using a beginner’s mindset and lead with curiosity, instead of allowing myself to feel imposter syndrome. Because I think they might be two sides of the same coin. We never finish learning. No matter how many years we’ve been running, there are always moments where we doubt, get nervous for a race, or have a bad day. I know I’ve toed the start line of many races where I felt super nervous because I put pressure on myself to perform a certain way, and I worried I wouldn’t live up to the expectation. If we maintain a mindset of curiosity about what we can do instead of pressuring ourselves about what we should do, maybe we would be able to relax more, which in turn could lead to better results. Maybe, the next time we feel imposter syndrome, we can embrace it, and recognize that we’re not imposters, we’re just always beginners - always open to learning and improving.

Mental Rest and Recovery

This month, given that the spring marathons have finished and training for fall races have yet to begin, I planned to write about rest and recovery. It’s important, I know. We should talk about it. For some reason, though, I have had a really difficult time figuring out what to say, and I think I know why.

I am really (really) bad at rest and recovery. Not physically. Physically I know to listen to my body and do my foam rolling and give myself easy days. It’s the mental rest and recovery that I wanted to talk about, and what I myself neglect. So, let’s explore this together.

I always say we should train our brains just like we train our bodies. So, it makes sense we should rest our brains the same as we rest our bodies. You’ve probably heard by now that rest is when your body actually grows stronger, and that sleep is when your brain consolidates memories and learning. But does mental rest help our sport performance? A study by David Eccles et al. published in the Journal of Sport Psychology in Action suggests it does. “Mental rest appears critical to sustained high performance in sports and other human performance contexts.” (Eccles, et al., 2021) Besides sleep, which is a main tool of physical and mental recovery, Eccles includes six “wakeful resting” strategies. 

They are:

1. Getting a break from thinking about your sport.

2. Getting a break from any kind of effortful thinking.

3. Getting a break from feeling life is controlled by sport.

4. Getting a break from the monotony of daily routine.

5. Being able to catch up on important work tasks.

6. Being able to have a personal life outside of sport.

For the amateur runner, that could look like spending time with friends or family, or practicing a non-sport hobby. Focusing on work or crossing something off a to-do list can even be restful in that it takes you away from running and helps you feel accomplished and productive. You can watch a movie or catch up on a show (just don’t get caught up and binge like I do). If possible, sign up for a class, or even take a vacation. Even if you don’t go anywhere, maybe you have some PTO you could take to just stay home and rest. Get out in nature! Getting off my phone and into nature always helps me feel rejuvenated. Reading a book can be relaxing as well. The point seems to be, we need to take breaks. Giving ourselves these mental breaks will prevent burnout and allow us to perform at a higher level in sport and in life.

And now, if you excuse me, I must go practice what I preach. 

What are Mental Skills for Runners?

So, what is this thing I call Mental Skills for Runners? Sport psychology for runners is all about learning tools and strengthening your mind to be the most helpful it can be during training and competition. It can include things like self-confidence, stress management, nerve management, positive self-talk, focus, or motivation. These are all skills that can be learned and improved upon with practice. Many elite athletes already use mental performance coaches, but they are not only for the elites. One of my favorite things about marathon running is that amateurs run the same course under the same conditions as the professionals. So why not give yourself the same tools? You are literally running the same race!

Most athletes would say there is a huge mental component to what they do. I believe distance running is in a league of its own. When you are running a marathon, you have to ride the line between pushing hard enough to get the best result possible and restraining enough to be able to last for hours. It’s finding a balance between expending and sustaining as much energy as possible. Running is an extremely monotonous sport, which can cause your mind to wander. Under stress, such as after hours of running, your mind may go to a dark place. You may start to unwittingly focus on what hurts or all the reasons why you want to stop. Sport psychology is partly about controlling that mind wandering. Bringing your thoughts back from the abyss. Runners don’t need to focus for short, repeated periods of time like golfers or baseball players do. And they don’t get time to reset between points like tennis players or football players do. There is no halftime like soccer or time-outs like basketball. Even if you are on a team, your part of a race depends solely on what you do. Running requires sustained focus, or the ability to decide what to focus on. The key is to learn to control your thoughts so that they are most helpful for you at any given moment. Your mindset is not something that just happens. You would never show up at a marathon start line without training your body. So why do it without training your mind?

Sport psychology is also about empowering you, the runner, to feel more self-confident. To challenge yourself to accomplish goals you once thought unattainable. You are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. With mental skills training, you can gain the confidence in yourself to achieve goals in running and in life. 

Embrace the Suck (Boston Marathon 2018)

I am writing this on the eve of the 128th Boston Marathon. I figured, what better way to kick off my blog than to tell you all about my own Boston experience in 2018.

After four attempts, I finally qualified for Boston in 2016. It was a big deal in my family. Everyone - my children, brothers, mom, dad, stepmom, sisters-in-law, nephews - was going to go to Boston to watch me run.  When I arrived in Boston, I discovered my shampoo had opened and gotten all over my clothes (cue foreshadowing music here). My brother, who lives in Minneapolis, couldn’t even make it - there was a blizzard that shut down the MSP airport. All this to say, things were going poorly from the beginning.

On race day, the weather was cold, windy, and rainy. I thought I was prepared. I am from Chicago, after all. But I did not even have a waterproof jacket. I brought an extra pair of shoes to change into at Athletes Village, and I wore sweats over my leggings. That was the extent of my preparedness. Being from Chicago created in me a false sense of confidence instead of the respect for the weather I should have had. That morning, my kids and I took the T to my mom’s hotel, where I dropped them off. Then I walked - yes, walked - to the bus stop where the buses would take me to Hopkinton. I was already frozen and soaked through before I even got on the bus. While in line, a very nice woman who also happened to be a nurse and an outdoors enthusiast (read: much more prepared than I) offered me a garbage bag and hand warmers. She also offered a very important piece of advice which I use often to this day: Embrace the Suck. 

Now, dear reader, I want you to imagine a yellow school bus with all the windows rolled up and the heat blaring, into which file dozens of anxious, wet runners. The hour-long ride to Hopkinton turned into somewhat of a sauna. When I got off the bus at Athletes Village, my plan was to hang out in the tent until my wave was called. They were calling the wave in front of mine, so I thought I’d have a little bit of time. Trying to get under the tent was basically walking through a mudfield, and finding a spot under the tent near impossible. All of the sudden, I heard on the loudspeaker, “Red and blue waves.” I guess they decided that they didn’t want us waiting around in the cold wet weather, so they were just sending us all out together. I rushed to a port-a-potty, removed my outer sweatpants, rubbed some gel on my legs, and ran out to the cement to change shoes. I honestly don’t think any of it did any good. I was still soaked and frozen before reaching the start line. As we walked, I tried to start my watch. It. Never. Started. I mean never. Throughout the whole race. The watch was just never able to connect to GPS. I decided to run by feel, except I couldn’t feel my legs. About a mile in, it felt like there was a rock or something in the sole of my shoe, so I stopped to check - nope. It was just my feet coming back to life after being frozen. 

You may have heard of Boston 2018. It was, reportedly, the most harsh weather conditions in about 40 years. Temps hovered around 35 degrees, there was a 35 mph headwind, and it was raining (or sometimes sleeting) the whole time. Over 2500 runners were treated at medical tents, most for hypothermia, and 25 elites dropped out (per this Runner’s World article from 4/16/2018). Honestly, I think if it were any other race, I would have just stayed in my hotel room for the day.

As it was, I told myself, “The only way out of this is to run back to Boston.” Since I am short, I tried to run behind taller runners to block the wind a little. I kept going back and forth between being in the moment to appreciate the experience and being just absolutely miserable. 

What got me through the race that day was thinking about the friends that were tracking me on the app, and the family waiting for me in the very warm and dry hotel. And, embracing the suck: preparing myself mentally that it was going to be really hard, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and I was strong enough to handle it. I rarely wear my finisher’s jacket from that day, but when I need a self-confidence booster, I put it on and remind myself, “You are capable of so much more than you think.”