On February 8, I unwillingly became a statistic. But I learned to laugh about it.
I officially joined the 70 percent of runners injured every year. After weeks of moping, I started laughing – because what else can you do?
In November 2010, after two half marathons, I wanted to run a full … I NEEDED to run a full. Soon, I registered for the National Marathon in Washington, D.C. on March 26.
I used Hal Higdon's training guide to mark up a calendar with scheduled runs. I decided not only was I running this marathon, I was going to dominate this marathon.
However, life has a funny way messing with our expectations. Six weeks before the marathon, something went very wrong on a short run. My whole right thigh betrayed me and tightened with each step. When I finished my run, I knew I was in trouble; the pain was strong, constant, and I couldn't walk without limping.
It's just a groin pull, I told myself. Nothing a frozen bag of corn down my pants wouldn't fix.
A week later, time was ticking – I was now merely five weeks away from running 26.2 miles – and I couldn't even run down the street.
I neeeeed this weekend. Actually, I'm probably working a good chunk of this weekend, so never mind that.
Tonight: Do not call me. I am busy watching the fifth season premiere of Burn Notice.
However, on Saturday, my best girls and I are trekking down 15 South to Hauser Estate Winery for the first in their Summer Concert Series, featuring Pentagon. Andy and I went last year, and you can read about it here. This year, they've moved the stage closer to the tasting room (and out of the gravel), so I know this will only be better. Plus, we're making it a GNO and picnicking. Can't wait.
by: Sara Bozich
Posted: June 20, 2011 Comments are off for this post.
**What a tremendous turnout! Congrats to Stef, our Reiki by Rickie winner!**
Friends, there are times in our lives when we need help managing and processing the bigger things affecting our happiness and productivity. For some, this may be as simple as a weekly date with a friend, a bottle of white and quality conversation.
Others yet prefer to seek the counsel of a professional – from masseuse to therapist to yogi – to aid in mental decompression.
Reiki provides yet another form of physical and mental healing. Reiki is a very gentle and deeply relaxing hands-on healing session performed fully clothed on a massage table. It provides stress management and balance, as well as a sense of inner peace.
I wasn't sure what to expect when Rickie (from Reiki by Rickie) invited me for my first appointment a few weeks ago, but I went in with an open mind.
After you complete a brief form and chat with Rickie, you begin the session by lying fully-clothed (sans shoes) face-up on the massage table, covered with a blanket. After a few cleansing breaths (yogis will have no trouble here), Rickie begins her light-touch healing, starting with a scalp massage and ending, an hour later, at your tired feet.
The experience is peaceful and relaxing, and at treatment's end, I felt completely refreshed, as if I'd woken from a year-long nap. (I found it similar to savasana, or Corpse Pose in yoga, but better.) Rickie typically recommends, as Jersey Mike completed, a three-session series over three weeks for maximum balance, stress relief and relaxation.
Rickie has generously offered the following to one lucky reader:
"Head to Toe" Healing session. (Value = $85). This includes aromatherapy face and scalp massage, followed by full body "Reiki by Rickie," and ending with a warming, grounding foot massage!
Reiki, Rickie's specialty, is a gentle and deeply relaxing hands-on healing session from Japan. It is Peaceful and Balancing, and melts away the source of your stress. Rickie is a Reiki Master/Teacher and P.T. offering services, workshops and classes at Alta View Wellness Center, Harrisburg.
Leave a comment below to enter. For extra entries (you must leave a separate comment for each extra entry in order for each to count), you can:
When people first meet me, they are usually surprised when they find out I drink.
"But … don't you do triathlons? Don't you go running at like 8 on Saturday mornings?"
Yep, I do. It is completely possible to maintain quite the social life, while preserving a proper training schedule. This is what I like to call living the dream – or at least, my version of it.
Just like most of you, I went to college and while there, I went to frat parties in damp and sticky basements, drank out of red Solo cups and learned how to play a mean flip cup. I can make a stellar 1990s-themed power hour mix and don't even think of challenging me to beer pong. After I graduated from college and entered the "real world," I thought it was over. I thought I had to "grow up" and stop having as much fun.
Father’s Day advertisements have long bothered me. I feel bad for men who reap the efforts of this pathetic, uber-stereotyped marketing. Men are painted to have just a few interests, along the lines of golf, grilling, sports, tools, BBQ, beer and “man caves.”
Most men I know – even those who aren’t fathers – have more depth than this. They have interest in music, good food, travel, reading, politics, art.
Sometimes around this time of year, I’ll find a story online that appears to be more relevant, a “cool dad’s gift guide” (or so it will be titled) – and it turns out to be all hipster-esque. My dad does not want an ironic t-shirt or Buddy Holly glasses. OK?
My father does not want for much, in fact. He’s not a “stuff” guy, and his interests are concentrated in World War II books and movies, Netflix, Puma sneakers, golf (okay, so you got me there, but he doesn’t give a shit about personalized golf balls or quirky tees) and dark rum.
Please let me confirm for you that I have given him any and all of these related gifts: Netflix subscription, passes to the Hershey Links (once he used it, once he didn’t – argh), sneakers, WWII books (which he already read – ugh) and dark rum (always a hit!).
I used to take him out – for beer dinners or tastings. But he really just wants face-to-face time and some good coffee. He likes Starbucks and Cornerstone.
This Father’s Day, I implore you to look beyond the easy-to-buy tie, grilling apron or personalized pint glasses. Think about what your dad enjoys – it may just be time with you. And it doesn’t have to be expensive.
Below I have just a few ideas on ways you can treat your dad this weekend (You know you hadn’t planned any further than this anyway. Consider it a slight head start.
Happy weekend to you! Tell me, what’s on your agenda this week? There’s so much going on.
I’m hoping to catch a showing of Woody Allen’s latest, Midnight in Paris, since I never did last weekend. I also have intern interviews scheduled, a retirement party, and I gotta grab some QT with Dad (I’m thinking maybe some Lebanese food or maybe just a good coffee – and a Barnes & Noble gift card for good measure).
You have two more days to enter to win 2 tickets (plus soundcheck passes) to see G. Love at the Abbey Bar next week. Nate Myers opens – this is another can’t-miss show from Greenbelt Events. Enter here to win.
In tomorrow’s column, I share my visit to Ceoltas‘ new third floor sky bar, The Thatch.
I'm not athletic. If you throw a ball at me, I will duck. I've never made it to first base (well, in kickball). My ultimate Frisbee team lets me play only when we are winning by more than 15. I am always the last person standing in a round of dodgeball because I am very good at cowering in the corner.
I embrace this non-athleticism. My parents tried to make me an athlete, they really did. After disastrous bouts with basketball, cheerleading, soccer and softball, I finally stuck with competitive swimming through grade school, high school and college.
During my last dual meet of my senior season in college, I blew it. I lost to someone I shouldn’t have, a freshman. She was in the lane next to me, and I remember seeing her pull ahead of me during the last 100 yards of the 1,000 yard race. I should have won the race. I deserved to win the race. I threw my goggles and cried afterward. And then, after 14 years of two-hour practices and daylong swim meets, I hung up my cap and goggles. I was burned out, and I didn’t want to smell like chlorine anymore.
When I started a desk job I migrated to the elliptical, mainly so I didn't get fat. If it was nice out, I would walk along the river after work, trying to not get trampled by a runner or cyclist. I had always thought of runners as elite athletes, while maintaining that I most certainly could not run. In fact, at the first memorial 5K for a good friend of mine, I made a point to walk every step of those 3.1 miles.
Then, one day, I laced up my sneakers. I'd do the same thing countless times afterwards, but this time, it was somehow fresh and new — I had decided to go for a run. Not very quickly and not very far, but I was running. I stuck with it, mainly because I am way too stubborn to quit anything, and I continued to up my distance until I was able to comfortably run three miles. I loved running up and down Front St. I liked how I felt after I ran. My hamstrings would be sore and my calves would ache, but I felt so accomplished.