Ten Question to Ask Yourself When You Can Run 5k and Want to Run 10k

Socrates is quoted having said an “unexamined life is not worth living.” I'm going to literally take it a step further and put it out there that an unexamined run is not worth running. As I start to think about what runs lie ahead in the next year to take me to 10k (gulp!) I wonder if there is any wisdom to be found on reflecting over the past year where I went from 5 steps to 5k?

Here are the ten questions I compiled. I wrote my answers below if interested.

1. What did I do well?
2. What can I improve on?
3. Who are the people who supported me the most?
4. How can I maximise their support and express gratitude? 
5. Who or what inspires me to run? 
6. Why is running 10k important to me?
7. What challenges stand between me and running 10k?
8. What's the number one change I need to make to ensure I achieve my 10k goal?
9. How will I do it?
10. If I could back in time and tell my non running self something what would it be?

What did I do well?

Mindfully, I did it all by myself. I earned every step and ran it MY way. No training program, no music, no watch, no gadgetry. I did not sustain any significant injury.

What can I improve on?

Conquer the dreadmill for winter is coming! Learn how to speak runner's talk. Find out what these pacing and splits are. Immerse myself with other runner's even if it means going incognito or paying. Get some gadgetry – even a watch or pedometer would do for starts. Work on basic math.

Who are the people who supported me the most?
Emotionally the people who read my blog because they make what I am doing feel important and worthwhile. Logistically those who look after my children so I can run.

How can I maximise their support and express gratitude?                                                    

Need to be more faithful with my blog posts and reach out to other potential readers who can  benefit from running with spirit techniques. The only way I can express gratitude is by writing well, usefully and frequently. I can only do this by running. It is a giving circle. Oh and keeping the child carers happy with occasional bribes.

Who or what inspires me to run?                                                                                                    

I love reading books about running. Especially Ultra marathoners. It makes what I am trying to achieve a piece of cake. But when I am running it is the “ordinary” people who inspire me the most. The heavily obese woman slowly jogging on the road as I drive by. The women at Stonehaven Running Club (future post stay tuned.) Not the runners who look like they came out of the womb tying up their laces.

 

Why is running 10k important to me?                                                                                       

It is a quarter of my marathon goal. I need to honour my health and running is the best way to make me a better person physically spiritually. 

 

What challenges stand between me and running 10k?    

Childcare and consistent motivation.

 

What's the number one change I need to make to ensure I achieve my 10k goal?

Dedication.

 

How will I do it?

In an ideal world: do 2 runs a week focusing on increasing distance and 2 runs a week that focus on speed. The other 2 days work on strength with yoga focusing especially on the core and arms. Until I come across something else that instinctively

If I could back in time and tell my non running self something what would it be? 
Go easy as hard as you can. For anything is better than nothing.

My FIRST race.

 Sorry to disappoint but I do not expect my race preparation techniques to feature in a Running magazine any time soon. The morning of the race I undid the knot in my elasticised running pants so they fit and tried to tuck in as much back fat into my sports bra as possible to close the straps. The night before I ate copious amounts of pizza. The week before I did no training as I was too busy making home brew and getting slightly tipsy on the tastings. Three months before the race I managed to squeeze in five runs. All in two weeks before the race. My children were more excited than me and were expecting me to win a trophy. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be disappointed.

I could face this potentially humiliating race if I could find someone equally as ridiculous to do it with me. My one and only running partner, Gazelle had abandoned me to return back to university, taking any training motivation with me. Many requests were rejected. However, I did find one willing, brave soul who prefers to be unnamed and henceforth will be referred to as P. She too had not run all summer and before that only ever on a treadmill. Then I gave my attitude a major overhaul.

If someone had said to me last August (while I was laboriously running my ten steps and then recuperating by walking ten steps for a total of ten minutes) that one year later I would run a 5k race I would have told them to “tell 'em their dreaming!” Here I am one year later about it do it. That alone is an accomplishment and something to celebrate. One year later I am a runner who is still running (never mind that it is sporadic because really when does life ever go to plan.) No, if I was going to run this race it would be with a spirit of joyfulness and gratitude - gosh darn-it!

I always knew the Butter Trail run would be the perfect first race for me. It is a beautiful, peaceful trail. The race is small (120 people registered, half doing the 5km and half doing the 10km). The $40 registration fee is a fund raiser for the local recreation centre. Asking for donations just ain't my style. I admire and respect the race director, Jennifer Langille, who is humble and gracious. There is free child care. Fortunately, the weather was 16 Celsius, slight breeze, with just enough cloud cover to keep the sun off. You couldn't even pre-order better weather. The best part of all (besides the race t-shirt and goody bag) is that you can pin your race number to hide any jiggly belly fat.

Standing at the starting line was rather nerve racking. Truth be told I was a tad emotional too. I hoped P didn't notice. Mostly surrounded by all these rather serious, fit people fiddling with their gadgets and gizmo’s. I still wasn't sure what my running time would even be having never timed myself before.  The starting gun fires.

The locals came out of their houses with lawn chairs to cheer us on. I always run alone so I get such a happy buzz running with other people, and for awhile I just soak it in. I also get talkative which is hardly surprising. Any excuse really! I remember my friend Nicola in Scotland saying during her first marathon she just gave up and started socialising. At the time I thought she was bonkers and wondered how that could possibly happened but now I understand. There is such a party atmosphere and a huge sense of camaraderie. I start yapping to P. “I can't talk!” she puffs at me. Then we hit the killer hill.

My one and only expectation I had of myself was to run the whole way. Even if it meant I could get a faster time walking I still wanted to run it. People pulled their cars up into the park with music blasting to encourage us. Half way through the race I find myself running alongside a woman in her sixties and for awhile we ran together, matching step to step. Some sort of magical runners synergy takes place and when she pulled away ahead of me, I felt a better runner because of it. I hope anyone that runs with me leaves feeling the same way. I realise that any fears I have of competitiveness have been vanquished. I have never felt less competitive than when I running this race. I ran using everything I learned along the way mudras, meditations, mantras. Most of all I ran with joy and gratitude that I can.  A lone Bagpiper appeared on the trail at the final kilometre. Nova Scotia; the only place more Scottish than Scotland they say; it is true.

Seeing the finish line  my heart fills with joy and I remember how I always thought I would cross the finish line with a cartwheel, if I ever ran a race. Hopefully my children will get a kick out of it and it will distract them from the aforementioned trophy. I finish how I ran the whole race; running and smiling. I cross the finish line. I cartwheel.

I originally thought it was really important to me to have my family at the finish line, so at first it was mere surprise when they were not there. I took a few moments to reflect and realised that this is best possible way to finish my first race. Alone. Running has been a very spiritual, personal journey for me. It was meant to be. My husband can be absolved of any guilt. He wasn't at the finish line with kids because he did not imagine I could run it that fast. Still pissed the children missed the cartwheel though!

I do not feel that it is in the spirit of this blog to reveal my race time. However I appreciate the curiosity and interest so if you wish, look for Julia Morton in the Butter Trail 2012 race results. Some race photo can be found at Running with Spirit Facebook page.

P finished with a really inspiring time and should be proud of herself for her sheer bravery and guts. She is already trying to convince me to take part in another race in October. My original plan was to run one race a year. But there was one element of racing I did not expect; it is FUN. Will see.

Time

“So what was your time?” is probably the number one question other runners ask. It is also the question I am least interested in. I won't deny there is a natural curiosity but it pricks the ears of my ego and makes me feel like I am running backwards rather than jogging forwards.

Yet time can be a useful, important and powerful indicator. It is also very effective at putting life in perspective. Anyone who really knows me, knows I want it all. Preferably yesterday before I even knew I wanted it. Meditation and living mindfully makes me just about bearable to live with. When I first started meditating I was on my second retreat where they taught two meditation techniques; mindfulness of breathing and the metta bhvana (loving-kindness). Our meditation teacher, Saty, only came down from his meditation hut on the mountain twice a year to teach. An eager participant asked him how long Saty had spent on these two types of meditation before he felt he could “move on.” Saty took a few minutes of silence to really consider this answer and then solemnly answered, “3 years.” Right there, at that moment, went my plans of conquering meditation on a one week retreat. And here I am 5 years later still practising, but now with the knowledge that it took one man 3 solid years sitting on a mountain.

Time frames give a path, like stepping stones, guiding me in the right direction. But some moments in life time itself struggles to time; like how long it takes to fall in love, discover enlightenment or find the car keys when your 19 month old has set the car alarm off? My guess is that the most important journeys in life time can not define.

This is why I take issue with these “Run 5km in 5 week” programs. To me, it is like the fast food version of running. Which I guess makes whatever it is I am doing the slow food option. Running with spirit certainly isn't the fastest way to become a runner. It took me 9 months to run 5kms. And some days I do not even run that, but it is still a better achievement than me just thinking about doing it. Or doing it for 5 weeks and then never again.

I've come across some running time frames that do inspire me. I stumbled across this idea of “building your base” in running when I was reading “Running with the Mind of Meditation”. The Osteopath Peter Goodman was quoted saying: “...bones are not stagnant; they are constantly changing and developing. Because they have blood vessels running throughout, through the pressure of running, they become harder and more resilient. Likewise, the tendons become conditioned and tough, and the muscles become stronger.” It continues to say that “building your base” takes two years. For me, this an achievable time frame.

And despite the belief that healthier, fitter able bodies only exist in their twenties the most successful professional long distance runners are in their late thirties and early forties. In a fascinating article "You're Only as Old as You Run" , which I recommend reading in The New York Times, it states: “ People over 40 now comprise 46 percent of (marathon) finishers.” So there is time for me yet. Because I'm defiantly in this for the long run. And time is on my side.

Marcothon: A reflection on running 5km everyday in December 2011.

The most important lesson I learned completing the Marcothon is to never, ever do it again. Sometimes while on a run I imagine Marco, the created of the Marcothon.* Maybe it's because I am currently in Australia but when I summon Marco, he is always in the pub, a cold pint in his hand. His shirt is covered in splotches of sweat and he leans forward over a slight beer gut (that his wife has convinced him is cuddly) to say,

“Oi mate....” here he pauses, almost philosophically, as he watches some beer slop onto the toes of his thongs. “Maaaaate, I was just thinkin'...we should just bloody well run everyday in December” Taking a big swig of beer he waits to gauge everyone’s reaction, which is a bit lacklustre.

“What? Like even Christmas Day,” some pub goer pipes up.

“Bloody oath Christmas Day!” Marco would reply, slamming down his empty pint, “I said everyday in December didn't I!”

“Struth Marco that's a bit hardcore!” And the more they drink, the more details get hashed out. It's a bit like when I used to work in London and some male manager would implement an idea that was doomed to be an epic failure and my colleague would turn to me, rolling her eyes sighing, “Designed by a man.”

Then an idiot like me thinks it is a good idea. And the part that I am very apologetic about is that I told other people about it, without first trialling it myself. I am sorry. I partially blame all the running endorphins. Maybe the problem isn't actually the Marcothon but rather I wasn't a very good runner to begin with. In November I was really happy if I managed to run 5km once a week and now in December I was expecting myself to run that everyday. Often in the heat of an Australian summer which my body was not acclimatised for having lived in Scotland for five years. Mid month the inevitable happens and I have crippling shin splints and my ankles start rolling unexpectedly. I make an executive decision to take two days off. Those two days off not running seriously felt like two months.

Failing is a slippery slope. At this point it would have been easy to call it quits but it did not cross my mind, but it did take the pressure off knowing I can just pick up where I left off. I know I did not run 5 km everyday. Somedays I ran more, most days I ran less. But despite those two days I ran everyday. Even Christmas Day which was my favourite run by far. Being a Marcothon Finisher I believe has actually made me a worse runner, but it did give me a stronger moral fibre. Like I said the most important lesson I learned completing the Marcothon is to never, ever do it again. Until next December. Who knows what runner I will be by then?

*I would like to clarify I have never met Marco. I assume he lives in Scotland and is Scottish therefore would have an amazingly tolerant sense of humour.

Reflections on Running 5kms

I stepped on my scales for the first time since I started running two months ago. I was staggered at my weight loss, it seems inconceivable that having run consistently every second day that I have lost....wait for it....I really hope you are sitting down....100 grams. Seriously. I could cut off all my hair and get greater results. Surely people who can run 5kms weigh less than 100 pounds?

Running has defiantly changed my life. For the worse. Showers, for me, are a luxury activity not a necessity. Being someone who resembles a sweaty beetroot when I run, means I have to shower much more often than previously. Plus I need to wash my hair more often than my ten day maximum. I have more laundry as I am now having to wear a second set of clothes that scream “olfactory” from my laundry basket if left for longer than a day. My skin has broken out like a forlorn teenager and for all my moaning I am even starting to sound like one. In summary running has changed me into a 100 gram thinner, smellier, acne-ridden beetroot. I apologise profusely but I am the worst possible advocate for running.

There are signs of hope though and I cling on to these like velcro. The deer no longer mock me with their rudeness and I look forward to seeing the wildlife. I prefer the days when I do run rather than when I do not. Positive signs of addiction that 5km is no longer enough, running has made me greedy and I want more. And I even managed to convince my husband that it was not a tumour on my left buttock but the promised beginnings of muscle. That and the bag of onions. I have got a lot of mileage out of that bag of onions which deserves further exploration on another day.