Marathon Training: One Month Down and I Can Still Walk

The focus of this first month was to start building up my mileage. I started with fifteen, then did four weeks of around 23 miles. I've never been good about sticking to rigid schedules so I didn't try to force myself into one. I always did one long run on the weekend. One week the weather was kind of gross so I only did one other long run. The other weeks I did two or three shorter runs. I didn't do any specific speed work, but I tried to make the short runs a little faster than my long runs.

Below are a few lessons that I've learned over the past five weeks.

Lesson #1: Minor Imbalances Will Be Exaggerated
When riding I always unclip with my left foot. I never thought anything of this until I started doing my weekend long runs. Once I'd hit the point where my form began to fade, I started noticing that my ankles felt noticeably different. I started getting a twinge just behind the bump on the inside of my left ankle. Once I noticed this sensation I couldn't ignore it. I'm still not sure whether the clip in factor is relevant; I'm trying an experiment for the next month where I use my right foot to clip in. On my commute in this morning, when I managed to time my lights pretty well, I clipped out seven times; when I don't time it well the count is closer to a dozen. I'll post more about the results of this experiment in next month's update.

Lesson #2: Running More Frequently is Less Stressful than Running Long
One week, because of gross weather, I did two long runs and no other running. It took me awhile to recover from these runs and that's the week I began to notice the tweak in my ankle. The other weeks, when I ran more frequently, I was able to get in better quality runs since I could keep my form up for the whole run, and I generally felt fine the next day, albeit a little stiff in the legs.

Lesson #3: You Can't Discount Your Bike Miles
For the past few years, I've taken a dichotomous approach to cycling: I have my commute miles and my fun miles. I know that they all count, but if you were to ask me how many training miles I do, I'd give you the total less commute miles. Since coming back, most of my bike miles have been for commuting. My round trip commute is now almost twenty miles so I am getting quite a bit of riding in without even counting it. When I started adding some runs in, I was still discounting my bike miles. I would be stuck at work, late for a group run so I'd sprint the ten miles home on my bike, change clothes, and run to the meeting spot. When we'd start running I would notice that my legs were heavy and I felt similar to how I do at the end of my long runs. It wasn't until this happened a few times that I realized that I cannot discount my commute.

Lesson #4: Run With Good Runners
This isn't necessarily something that everyone has the luxury to do, but several of my friends are very good runners who know a lot about the sport. I tend to run with them when I want to go faster than usual as they'll hold me to a pace that I can sustain but would be too lazy to do if I were running on my own. The biggest advantage of running with people who are good runners is that they can spot poor form quickly. As a newbie, bad habits are easy to fall into, but they are also easy to fix. If someone can spot these for you early on and help you fix it, it'll be more comfortable in the long run. As a side note, my bike handling skills improved significantly once I started doing more group rides. Just make sure that you're imitating people who know what they are doing :-)

Lesson #5: Work On Good Form
This is a follow up to running with good runners. I try to spend one run every week where I really focus on keeping good form. Right now my primary focus is my hand placement. I tend to run with my hands near my shoulders. I believe it's a bad habit I picked up when I played field hockey. I learned to run with a stick in my hand and teammates around me; it was safer to keep the stick more vertical than horizontal. However, ever since high school I have dealt with a right shoulder that feels like it is getting pinched the longer and faster I run. So, I ask people that I run with to point out to me if they notice my hands creeping towards my shoulders, and I dedicate one run each week to actively work out these bad habits.

I'm running a half marathon this coming weekend for a friend's birthday (yes, I have some odd friends) and then heading to Boston to watch the marathon. I'll write about that when I come back; this is my first time in Boston on Patriots' Day. Growing up in Massachusetts I always had school off so I watched the marathon every year through high school; in college some MA friends and I would watch the marathon and pretend we had the day off :-)

If you have any questions or ideas for me to play with in the next month, feel free to leave me a note in the comments, or email me directly.

Welcome to My Summer of Marathon Training

Earlier this year, when I decided to start running, I started searching the internet for some articles for beginner runners. However, after a lot of searching I couldn't find many articles for people like me: already relatively fit but with no real running background. Most of the beginner articles I found were "couch to 5k" type advice. I wasn't just getting off the couch; I had no problem going for a five mile run, but I knew that I probably shouldn't just go from not running at all to running thirty miles a week if I wanted to stay injury free.

Malaysia

My week in Malaysia was probably the most stressful and painful of my whole trip. If I've been able to talk with you in person I'm sure you've already heard about the beach incident, but I'll recount the whole week here.

I was looking forward to traveling to Malaysia. I had heard great things about the country as a whole. Because of seasonal rains and a lack of planning, I decided against visiting the eastern peninsula and the Borneo side. Looking at a calendar, I figured I had about two weeks before I needed to be in Phuket to take a freediving course so I decided to take my time and just go without a plan. I had a rough idea that I would travel by bus up the west coast, stopping in Melaka, Kuala Lumpur, and Penang before finally hitting the beach in Thailand.

One redeeming quality of Malaysia

I basically had to be kicked out of Singapore. I don't know whether I truly loved Singapore or whether it was a welcome change of pace after six weeks in SE Asia, but I ended up staying almost twice as long as I had planned. One of the owners of the hostel I stayed at eventually put me on a bus headed for Johor Baru where I would pass through immigration on my way to Melaka. The border crossing was in two stages, both requiring disembarkation. We first had to pass through the Singapore side, get back on the bus, then get off at the Malaysian side. As soon as I got my passport stamped, the chaos of SE Asia returned. Without any signs indicating where to go, I ended up following a group of people from my bus who were not going where I needed to. I tried to go back but the corridor was one way so a police officer (who spoke perfect English) stopped me. He informed me that I needed to go a different way but that would spit me out in no man's land so I would have to go back through immigration. I did this, but the non-English speaking immigration officer did not understand what had happened. My passport indicated I had already entered Malaysia and that I hadn't left. Finally a supervisor was able to figure out what happened and waved me through.

I went to the bus terminal to pick up the bus to Melaka. The bus was an hour late but Malaysia has a very good road network so the ride was not terribly dusty or bumpy. Eventually I made it to Melaka, found the bus that took me into town, and found my hostel. The dorm did not have any windows; I found this to be the case in every hostel I visited in Malaysia but nowhere else.

An abandoned building in Melaka

Melaka is a former Dutch and British colony; the old part of town consists of buildings from this period. In my wanderings, I found an abandoned building, just behind the heavily trafficked historic buildings, that appeared to be the same style architecturally. Without any regard for my personal safety, I wandered inside. I discovered that the building had been an art gallery as recently as five years ago but was no longer in use. No one else was around and I had a great time exploring.

Doorway blocked with debris

I am able to recognize it now, after documenting my daily activities for three months, but I have a tendency to explore places that are abandoned, the highest point in the area, and the lowest. In this case, the building was near the top of the hill so I was able to get two things out of my system in one go.

Melaka waterfront, trees undewater

I also rented a bicycle and rode around for a morning. This was the first and only time I have ever had to ride on the left side of the road. This didn't cause any problems, but I had to remember to look over my right shoulder instead of instinctively looking over the left. On my wanderings, I headed right to the water. I never realized it before this trip but I find being around water to be very calming. The two years since I graduated were the first two in my life where I wasn't swimming on a regular basis. I didn't notice it at the time but I believe that I by not swimming I had unintentionally removed a key component of my stress management system from my life. It wasn't until I was in Asia that I realized that any time I got stressed I naturally ended up at the beach. This will be discussed in much greater detail later in this post.

Petronas Towers on NYE

After two nights I was ready to continue onto Kuala Lumpur. KL is where I was turned off to Malaysia. After getting off the bus, I walked a short distance to the train to get into the city. There were no signs anywhere. The platforms were not labeled and no transit system map existed in the station. There was no indication that I was the only person who was confused because in every station I went to in KL there were transit system employees stationed next to each fare machine to help you buy the proper fare for your destination (which may include transfers between different transit systems). I had instructions that my hostel was only a few blocks from the subway station, but due to a lack of maps and signage, it took me nearly an hour just to orientate myself.

Celebrating the end of 2012 in KL

Disorientation was the theme of my time in KL. Generally, I am able to figure out where I am quickly and draw a mental map of the city in my head. KL and Phuket both really turned me around. Phuket was not difficult, I just couldn't wrap my head around it for whatever reason. KL seemed to have grown up too quickly. There are several places where major roads don't have pedestrian crossings for at least a kilometer. The subway was so crowded on New Year's Eve that I chose to walk back to my hostel after watching the fireworks from the Petronas Towers. What should have been a forty minute walk turned into just over two hours because I kept getting turned around and stuck on the wrong side of roads without pedestrian crossings.

Batu Caves

This confusion regarding the transit system continued when I tried to go to Batu Caves. I tried to buy a ticket to Batu Caves but the operator of the train I was at isn't the same as the one that goes to Batu Caves. The transit map is fully integrated so there was no way to know where I had to go to for a connecting train that sold the correct tickets. The guy whose job it is to help people buy fares told me which station to go to, and after getting there, I still wandered around for about twenty minutes as there are two physical buildings at the station, each of which sell different tickets, and I couldn't find the appropriate one. The caves were worth the trip, especially as I was able to climb a long staircase to go up to the cave, and then descend deep into another, satisfying my desire to climb things and descend.

Although I had heard good things about the Cameron Highlands and I still had some time to play around in Malaysia, I was getting very frustrated and wanted to get to the beach in Thailand as quickly as possible. When entering Thailand by land Americans are granted a fourteen day visa. Given my schedule, I still had a few days that I needed to spend in Malaysia so that I wouldn't run into visa problems.

Hiking through the park in Penang

I decided to leave KL and headed to Penang. The main tourist spot in Penang is George Town which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. At this point I was on an island and I wanted to go to the beach. I took the bus out to a park where there are hiking trails that lead to several beaches. I set out for a hike, ready to give Malaysia one last chance to impress me.

Due to beach and trail closures, my route was already picked for me. Hike out past two beaches, stop for a swim at the third, and depending on the weather/time I could continue onto a final beach. I passed the first two beaches and the rain was holding off. It was a pretty quiet day but there were several other hikers out so I felt comfortable going into the water for a swim whenever I made it to the third beach where I had planned my swim.

Doesn't the beach look so inviting?

I found a small area, surrounded by rocks and out of sight to hide my bag and clothes. I hopped into the ocean and felt so comfortable. It was the first time I had been in the water since my scuba trip over a month earlier and I was desperate for a good swim. I swam half way down the beach when I stopped to tread water for a minute and look where I was going. As soon as my legs dropped below my torso I felt a familiar pain in my lower left leg and foot. The only other time I have been stung by a jellyfish I nearly blacked out in the water, so, given that the beach was nearly deserted and I didn't know how many minutes behind me the other hikers were, I tried to stop moving entirely and drift onto the beach.

The tentacle wrapped around
my leg, creating a nice band

Fortunately this sting was nothing compared to the last one I had, but I didn't know how severe it was. I slowly limped back to the rock encircled area I had left my bag and sat on the beach to soak the sting and scrub it with some sand. At this point, the monkeys who lived on the beach decided to hit me up for some food (of which I had none). They climbed onto the rocks which surrounded me and began to bare their teeth. I've been around other animals in attack mode before, but staring the head monkey in the eyes scared me more than almost any other time in my life. I didn't know what to do as I was still in pain from the sting, I wasn't thinking clearly, I couldn't escape, and I had nothing with me with which to distract the monkeys. Eventually I got fed up with the situation, started screaming at the monkeys, they slowly realized I had no food, and left one at a time.

Once the monkeys were gone, I grabbed my stuff and ran off the beach, leg still stinging, and into the jungle. Finally clear of the monkeys, I put my shoes back one and started hiking as fast as possible back to the park entrance and the bus. I tried to explore a little more of George Town that night but I was unsuccessful in cleaning out the sting and new venom kept being released when I would walk. So, I mustered up the strength to walk to the ticket office and bought a ticket to Phuket. The beach was Malaysia's last chance to win me over and she blew it.

Why Practice Arm Balances?

I would consider myself a risk averse thrill seeker. What this means to me is that I love the thrill of doing something new and apparently dangerous, but only once I am reasonably assured that I have taken some basic precautions. This has attracted me to pursuits such as roller coaster riding, free diving, and bike commuting.

When I began practicing yoga, my adventurous side was drawn to inversions and arm balances. These two groups of poses challenged my idea of what one is supposed to do; they are not positions in which one would naturally find oneself. I began practicing with the goal of doing crazy things with my body in space, but I discovered that these poses are very powerful in developing focus and concentration. When you are upright and standing on two feet it is easy to let your mind wander; if you do this while upside down you will fall on your face.

maybe someday...
(via pinterest.com)

When teaching I always incorporate an arm balance into my classes. I believe that simple arm balances are a concrete way to see that you've pushed yourself and feel a sense of accomplishment. I know that yoga is supposed to be non-competitive, even within oneself, but, especially with new students, it can feel really good to finally nail a cool pose, encouraging someone who might otherwise give up to continue with their practice.

Although I often work arm balances into my regular flows, I make a point to teach one of two poses in all of my classes: crow pose and shoulder pressure pose. Both poses are very accessible to new students and both allow for simple progression through the pose so you can see that you are making progress.

Learning to balance in crow pose was the key to my ability to use my core to control my postures. To develop a good base I will instruct students to simply crouch as low to the floor as is comfortable, then plant their hands firmly, shoulder width apart, then begin to lean forwards while squeezing the elbows towards one another. If the knees and shins can comfortably connect with the triceps, keep that connection while leaning forwards, keeping the gaze about a foot or so in front of the hands. Once comfortable with leaning forwards, one can begin to play with lifting the feet, tucking one heel, then the other, towards the glutes.

Size isn't an obstacle :-)
(via yogapancake.com)

I enjoy teaching this pose to new students because I don't think there's a good way to cheat your way into crow. In order to progress through the pose, you have to play. You'll fall on your face quite a few times and if you don't engage your core, you won't be able to keep your hips high enough to allow the feet to lift. Once the feet are lifted and you are able to stay here for a few breaths, you have direct knowledge of the core control necessary to maintain that balance. If the pose is practiced regularly, that core control will be cultivated and can be applied to every other pose.

(via marylandyoga.com)

However, because of the head position in crow pose, the pose can be very intimidating. I probably teach shoulder pressure pose more often than crow simply because, even though it requires much more flexibility in the hips, it is less intimidating. I often start from a squatted position and just work to get the hands firmly planted on the mat. Once the hips are open enough, begin to walk the hands back, until they can plant behind the heels; it is necessary for me to lift my hips here so that there is enough space for my arms. I find that cupping the heel with the index finger and thumb is about the right hand placement for me; this is just what is comfortable on my shoulders and hips. Once you can press the hands fully into the mat behind the feet, allow the thighs to rest on the upper arms while squeezing the elbows together. Eventually you'll begin to walk the feet towards each other, until you can hook one ankle on top of the other. Once the ankles are crossed, press into the hands and begin to sit back, allowing the ankles to rise off the mat.

This pose takes the fear of falling out of arm balances. It also has very distinct steps to work through in getting to the final pose so progress can be easily measured. I certainly don't expect every student to get into either crow or shoulder pressure pose. I keep them in my teaching repertoire because they encourage play and provide a sense of accomplishment. I believe that things in life should be fun; my go-to farewell is not "goodbye" but "have fun." By encouraging students to take some time to play with something as crazy as balancing on their hands, I hope that I have allowed them to bring some more fun into their lives and continue this pursuit off the mat.

Solo Travel

As a solo traveler, I spent a lot of time meeting new people and spending time alone. I discovered that I have a strong need for alone time; I realize that I had been taking care of this need by going riding for hours on the weekends, alone, but traveling alone was definitely a different experience.

One of the first questions I am asked is whether I was lonely traveling. I can't say that I was ever by myself. There were always people to hang out with; most of them were very interesting and I enjoyed our time together. However, at some point I began craving familiarity. Generally the same topics are discussed when hanging out with travelers: where you've been, where you're going, what's your life situation that allows you to travel. While very interesting, I began longing for the type of nonsense conversation you can only really have with someone with whom you feel comfortable. As someone who takes a long time to warm up to a new person, this type of brief contact is not conducive to close friendships.

Does this seem like a bad idea to you?

Why travel solo if there's a lack of lasting connections to other people? Freedom. My plans changed all the time. I would set out for the day with a rough itinerary but run into something cool and the whole day would turn out differently. There was the last minute trip to the beach in Cambodia that totally threw off my Cambodia/Laos itinerary but I felt was necessary at the time (and I don't regret at all). I am not very rigid in my travel style; I generally have an idea of the route I want to take but I am very flexible once on the road. I know that this works for me, but traveling without an itinerary can be very stressful for others.

As a young white girl, alone, I became very approachable to other travelers. While this might sound dangerous, Manila was the only place that I felt uncomfortable walking around by myself at night. I felt far safer in SE Asia than I do in most of the US. I do not know whether the statistics back me up on this claim; I make this statement only based on my experience. I met a lot of other girls traveling solo and they echoed the same sentiments. Since I wasn't traveling with an itinerary, these interactions became the way I planned my travels. I'd listen to stories of what people enjoyed or felt was a waste of time, and plan accordingly.

I have traveled with people in the past, and my next trip I'm planning with friends. It is definitely scarier leaving for a trip by yourself. Familiar faces provide a comfort that cannot be replicated. Once I got past the initial shock of being someplace new, I was okay and thankful for the freedom I had that would have been sacrificed for a familiar face. Coming back to the US I found I was so used to just doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, that I would get annoyed whenever I had to make plans. When I moved back to DC, I didn't tell anyone that I was back for about a week because I wanted to preserve that freedom to which I had grown so accustomed.

For someone who has never traveled solo before, it can seem very intimidating. I like to think of myself as fairly adventurous and I know that I certainly had reservations about solo travel for an undefined amount of time. However, if the lack of companionship is the primary factor holding back your travel plans, just book your ticket and go. Even if you never want to travel solo again, it is an experience that will demonstrate just how much you are capable of doing on your own.

Making a Mess

I've been back in the US for almost six weeks now trying to readjust to the real world. Each of those six weeks had a distinct goal and, looking back, it seems like it was a good way to get back into the swing of things. Considering that I was in Asia for only three months, a month to get back into things might seem excessive, but when I arrived in the US in February, I was not ready to go back to work and my old life.

When I left for Asia I had a strong need to shake things up in my life. I was bored at work and bored with DC. I had lived in the same house for two years, same metro area for six, and I was too complacent to seek out my own challenges anymore. Although I could have quit my job and moved to a new city,  given that I didn't dislike my company or DC, I opted for the more temporary shake up of a one way ticket to Hong Kong. At first I opted for my usual travel style: walk everywhere, see as much as possible, eat everything. I forgot that I have always employed this style for short, well defined periods of time and then scheduled a day to sleep afterwards. I quickly learned that this frantic mode was not sustainable, and once I hit the heat of Phnom Penh I had no choice but to slow down. I'm trying to incorporate this into my daily life. Instead of jumping back into things, I'm taking a slow approach to coming back, only adding activities back in once I feel the need, ignoring any lingering feelings of obligation.

I have been asked why I decided to come back and pick up where I left off. There's no easy answer to that but I'll try to explain a little here. When I was traveling everything was novel. It was exactly what I needed to get me out of the rut I was in back in DC. However, sleeping in a different bed every night, never knowing where I'd be the next day, I eventually came to really crave some stability. The first half of my trip was characterized by movement; a few days in one place at most, then off to the next city, deciding at the bus station where I should go. The second half was characterized by longer stays in one place. About a month in I started feeling a very strong urge to make a mess. Anyone who has ever seen my desk or bedroom knows I am not the image of a neat person; when traveling I kept everything in my backpack out of necessity. One night I was in a small dorm and I was the only person in it that night. I took all my clothes and just spread them all over one of the other beds in the dorm. It seems really stupid looking back on it, but I felt so relieved after tossing my clothes onto that bed.

Coming back, I needed familiarity. I needed to be around people I already knew, transit networks I already knew how to get around. Additionally, while I was gone, I didn't feel any relief in having left DC. When I left Massachusetts almost seven years ago, I never felt a real longing to go back. I don't dislike it and I'm happy to visit, but I was satisfied with what I had learned there and never felt like I had unfinished business. In DC, I still felt I could come back and be happy. Going back would be easy; I already knew where I wanted to live, I still had my job, and I had hobbies that I could hop right back into. While I don't generally advocate for doing something because it is easy and familiar, in this case I believe that it was exactly what I needed at the time I made my decision. I feel confident that if I get sick of DC again I will leave; at that point I will be looking for a new adventure and relocating would fit the bill. At this point, I just want to be in a place with people around whom I feel comfortable enough to make a mess.

Oxygen is for the Weak

Among the many reasons that I decided to take off and travel was my need to find something that truly makes me happy. I was having trouble finding that in DC. I also found myself too focused on what is happening next in my life; great when I started travelling and needed to plan ahead, not so much fun when the return flight is in sight. After a trip to Malaysia that inspired me to make my new year's resolution to swear more, Phuket was a welcome change. I spent the first week scuba diving; it was amazing. Great visibility, gorgeous dive sites, and great people. I loved being in the water, but something still didn't feel quite right.
I found We Freedive on trip advisor after a quick internet search for freediving schools; the course dates worked with my travel schedule so I decided to sign up for the AIDA two star course. The course was several theory sessions, pool sessions, and open water sessions spread out over three days taught by the owners Richard Wonka and Sarah Whitcher. I've heard from other travelers that other freedive schools do much less theory in their courses. I'm glad we covered as much as we did; I am generally quite open to doing new things but I like to have some background knowledge first. Having some scientific knowledge of the physiology of freediving definitely made me more comfortable once we got in the water.
The first lessons came when we first hopped in the pool to do statics. This is when you simply hold your breath for as long as possible with your face submerged. Sounds easy, right? Despite knowing intellectually that you can keep holding your breath well past the urge to breathe, it is very difficult to actually put this into practice. I relaxed as much as possible and released my snorkel. This was strictly a mind game. It is difficult enough for me to just focus on the present when I am breathing regularly; maintaining this focus while acknowledging and ignoring the urge to breathe was one of the most difficult things I have done in a long time. I have always struggled with what many of my yoga friends call "monkey mind." It has caused me many sleepless nights, agonizingly long meditation sessions, and general anxiety. The whole process of doing a static - the breathe up, the dive, recovery - forced me to stop the flurry of thoughts in a way that nothing else has been able. It was in the pool that I first began to experience taking control of my body and not simply bending to its every whim.
We also spent two days in the open water. The first day was very difficult for me. I kept straining my neck to look forward, towards my goal. This arched my back and put my body in an inefficient position. Richard kept telling us to just enjoy the present and focus on exactly where we are at each moment of the dive. Again, much easier said than done.
The next day I was finally able to relax, keeping my gaze forwards, and the dives felt so much easier. Additionally, once I stopped struggling to bring myself up to the surface and relax, allowing my buoyancy to do the work for me, I really started to enjoy myself. Despite hitting depths near my maximum scuba depths, it was relaxing and joyful in a way that I had never experienced before.
These two lessons from the open water sessions, to stay focused on exactly where you are right now and to stop struggling and relax, were the two things I have been searching for. That is what drove me to Asia and into Richard and Sarah's school. The discovery of a way to experience this mindfulness has not been placed with equal significance among my other travel stories. This is one that has made me rethink plans that I thought I could live with and potentially take my life in a new direction that I had never even considered just a few weeks ago.
While this whole trip has been fun and enlightening, in retrospect, those three days in Phuket were the break through that I had been working for. If you are ever in the area, I would recommend without hesitation to spend a few days training with Sarah and Richard. You'll be mentally challenged in ways that you've probably never been challenged before.