I’d like to dedicate the final push of this fundraiser to one of my Chicago team mates, Kim Rhame.  She’s part of the Pixie Club, but not by choice.  Kim was diagnosed with Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma on October 15, 2008.  For six months, she traveled back and forth to Houston, Texas for treatment.

This week, she’ll pack her four kids into the car for a road trip back to Texas.  While her husband and kids are hitting up the tourist locations, she’ll be getting a new scan.  She shared her story with our fall Team in Training runners Saturday with a smile and a shrug. “It could be you.  It could be anybody,” she said.

After our four mile run in the sticky heat last Saturday, I was lusting after Kim’s pixie cut.  She’s a beautiful woman who can pull it off flawlessly.  When I told her so, she shrugged and remembered her long, blonde, pre-cancer hair without an ounce of anger or wistfulness.  She never planned to be a Pixie, but if she’s a member of the club, I want in.

The Great Haircut Challenge Ends June 30^th at midnight.  The fundraising tally is $550 for “Ponytails” (keep the hair); $350 for “Pixies” (cut it off).    To donate on my TNT webpage, click here.

“The Great Hair Cut Challenge” made it onto TV today.  In case you weren’t watching 11Alive at 5:55 AM (and shame on you!), here’s the background: to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training, people are deciding what I should do with my hair: chop it all off or keep it long.  This wasn’t my idea, but I like it.  We’ve already raised more than $700 for a cause close to my heart, so I say bring it on! 

One of our producers heard about The Great Hair Cut Challenge on Facebook and suggested we talk about it on the morning show.  So, in between my 5:30 and 6:00 live hits, Chesley, Jill, Karyn, and I sat on the anchor desk and talked about it on live TV. 

Chesley threw out an absurd suggestion: “How about you let me cut it?” And I said yes.  Everyone on set, perhaps especially Chesley, was shocked.  

He can chop off my ponytail, and then I’ll have my hairdresser clean it up.  That’s *IF* the donations swing that way.  Right now, the “Keep It” campaign has raised twice as much as the “Chop It”.  BUT, we have 21 days left.  As we gear up for election season, I’m reminded: anything can happen.  Donate and Vote Here.

Training for a marathon is like a high-wire act.  It’s all about balance.  Train enough to get strong, but not so much to get injured.  It’s also about timing and trying to peak at the right time: race day.  That’s why training schedules are specific.  They don’t say go take a run today; it’s run 10 miles at 60-70%.

My timing and balance are WAYYY off, and I’m not sure what to expect.  I had to pull out of the ING Marathon at the last minute, so now I’m planning for the Country Music Marathon in Nashville on April 24^th.  I’m excited about running a great race in a new city, but first, I have to get there.

I peaked back at the beginning of March, then tapered.  Instead of running the ING marathon, I didn’t run at all for a week and a half.  My first run back, I had to walk part of it, because I was so weak and exhausted.  The Team in Training coaches helped me come up with a plan B, and I’m happy to report my runs this week have been awesome.  My strength is back and I’m feeling great!  I’ll feel even better if I have a good run this Saturday.  It’s 12 miles this week, 16 next week, then 8 taper, and the race.

It wasn’t the original plan, but it’s a good one.  . . hopefully.

Run your race.

Run to run another day.

I kept repeating those quotes over and over again in my head over the last week like a mantra. By now, I was supposed to be basking in the post-marathon glow, instead I’m scrambling to find another marathon.  Instead of trying to break four hours, I’m just hoping to finish.  It’s funny how one night in the ER can change your running plans. 

I’ll gloss over all the details and sum it up like this: I’m OK, it’s no big deal.  But for a while, I was totally sidelined.  And for just a while, I didn’t even care about missing the ING Georgia Marathon.  It was always there, hanging around in the back of my mind.  But it wasn’t until days later, when I came out of a pain-medication-induced haze that I realized the last six months of training was building to a crescendo that would never happen.

Saturday night, I went to the Team in Training celebration dinner.  I admit there was a part of me that didn’t want to go.  That didn’t want to hear everyone talk about their successful marathons while I just nodded and smiled. But I’m so glad I went.    

I was so proud of everyone.  While runners relived the race, water stop by water stop, the non-runner spouses and friends got a glazed look.  I could almost hear their brains working: who cares how many goo gels you ate?  And whether you ate them at mile 9 or 12? It’s almost like this secret language only endurance runners can speak.  Yes, it’s awesome.

Run to run another day.   It looks like that day will be April 24^th.  I’m planning to run the Country Music Marathon in Nashville next month.   So, I’ll get my big event.  Just a month late.

Some hills are just hills, but some are Hills (with a capital “H”).  Johnson Ferry at Columns Drive is definitely a Hill. 

I ran it during my 12 miler, and I was set to face it again for an 18 miler.  Leading up to Saturday’s run, I’d been living on a solid diet of Olympics.  I love the Winter Olympics: bob sledding, biathlon, cross-country skiing, snowboard cross, even curling.  My television never strayed from NBC for those ten days (given NBC’s usual programming line-up, this was a huge change despite my obvious 11Alive loyalties).  So, I entered Saturday inspired and ready to treat Johnson Ferry like that cocky ice skater from Russia—Take that!

By now, you’re thinking: it’s a hill, what’s the big deal?  So it’s time to admit I have a thing about Hills (not the little hills, just the Hills). 

I’m not nervously uncomfortable of them the way I am of revolving doors and garbage disposals.  They just keep beating me.  I can’t run them at the pace I should be.  I fall behind on the hills and catch up with my runner partners at the top, but as the runs get longer it’s getting tougher.  There are lots of things I can do to improve my hill performance next time, but right now, I’m about to start ramping down on my running: no time to start a new strength training plan.

So I just have to gut it out. 

And you know what? I did.  Maybe it was the pocket full of jelly beans I nibbled at the later water stops.  Maybe it was the extra hours of sleep I squeezed into my week.  I’m not saying it was super-fast or that I didn’t fall behind.  But I did it, and I felt good.  So, in my book, that makes it 1-1.

I thought, “I’ve run half-a-dozen marathons, who knows how many halves, 5Ks, 10Ks.  I know the lingo.  I wear the gear.  Who are you to say I’M not a REAL runner?”  Instead what came out of my mouth was, “Are you saying I have a big ass?”

What happened next was the smartest thing (and the only thing) a man can say in that moment: “No, dear, not at all,” in a voice with just a touch of fear.

Here’s the ugly truth about running: I doesn’t make you lose weight.  Let me alter that slightly: It doesn’t make ME lose weight.  It seems so unfair that even when I run 12, 16, 18 miles; I don’t lose a single pound.  My pants DO fit better.  My legs LOOK better, but that’s about it.  Everyone I convince to run usually does lose weight, which allows me to practice my evil-eye. 

So, what’s the deal? 

A recent Runner’s World magazine article titled “What’s Your Ideal Weight?” said:

“There’s no denying healthy runners will race about 2 seconds per mile faster for every pound they lose. . . the less weight you carry around, the more miles per gallon you get from oxygen.” This applies to runners with a healthy BMI, between 18.5 and 24.9.  If you drop below 18.5, you’re at risk for becoming weaker and slower. 

As with all things running these days, I turned to Team in Training coach Barb for some information.  She passed along an article from nutritionist, Nancy Clark (Board Certified Specialist in Sports Dietetics).  An excerpt:

“Why “quick weight loss” is a fantasy

While the promise of quick weight loss is enticing, runners who lose weight quickly on a severe diet inevitably regain the weight, if not more. That’s because the body overcompensates for extreme dieting with overeating. You will never win the war against hunger…

     Hunger is physiological. Just as your body needs to breathe, urinate and sleep, your body also needs to eat. Urges to overeat (that is, blow your diet) often have less to do with will power and more to do with the physiology of hunger. Just as you will gasp for air after having been trapped under-water without oxygen, you will devour food after having been denied calories during a crash diet (or after a long run, for that matter). Yes, you can white-knuckle yourself to stick to your crash diet, but your well-meaning plan to quickly shed some pounds has a high likelihood of exploding into a demoralizing pattern of binge eating followed by yet-another attempt to crash-diet. Don’t go there…. it’s depressing.”

Well, darn. Then…

The better plan is to chip away at slow but steady weight loss, targeting 0.5 to 2 pounds a week. Why, by just knocking off 100 calories at the end of the day (one cookie, one heaping spoonful of ice cream), you can theoretically lose 10 pounds a year. Knock off 200 calories at the end of the day (16 ounces of cola, 4 Oreos), and you’ve lost 20 pounds a year.

Well, I can do 100 calories less a day.  Until then, I guess I’ll just be that chubby runner. Recently, the Cooper Aerobics Center (fitness and BMI gurus) released a report that said aerobics fitness (not weight) is a predictor of longevity.  It’s better to be fat but fit rather than lean and out of shape. And anyone that runs 26.2 miles is definately, without question, in shape. 

Make no mistake; I am a “real runner”.  So are you.  In my book, that has nothing to do with your size, your weight, or your speed.  To be a runner, you just need to put one foot in front of the other and cross the finish line.  See you there.

Reading this definition started me pondering about commitment in our world today.  In my head, it started sounding a lot like my dad’s stories: “when I was your age, I had to walk to school.  Up Hill.  In the snow.” 

I’m too young to talk about the past that way, but here I am thinking it.  Are we ever really committed to anything?  I mean REALLY committed?

For me, commitment must come with consequence.  If you break your commitment, whatever role you were supposed to play, whatever job you were supposed to do: it won’t get done.  When you’re fundraising for cancer, those consequences are significant.  Families that need help won’t get it.  Research won’t happen.  Cures won’t be found.

We had recommitment night for the ING Georgia Marathon last night.  For Team in Training, this means two things: (1) You must have 25% of your fundraising done, and (2) you should be on target in your running schedule.

This is it. There’s no turning back.  I signed my name on the line.  From here on out, it’s full force ahead.  In a wishy-washy, gray-area world, the solid commitment feels good.  It stretches out before me like a long road just begging for a run.

Speaking of fundraising, I still have $1,000 to go. You can donate here: http://pages.teamintraining.org/ga/Georgia10/jwolfe

-Our track at McEachern High School backed up to a pasture.  For some reason, instead of being afraid of the starting gun, the cows were attracted by the sound.  Every track meet, they would line the fence like a mooing cheering squad.

-One time, I took so long getting into my blocks, the other team’s track coach yelled at me.  It flustered me so much I had a false start.  He yelled at me more.  Since then, getting into starting blocks makes me break into a sweat.

-It was team picture day and my uniform was rumpled on the floor.  I ironed it.  It melted.  There was a big hole in my shorts.  Funny thing is, I can’t remember what happened.  Certainly, I didn’t stand in the back row with my hiney hanging out.  Or maybe I did and I’ve just blocked it out.

My Team in Training Coach tells me track workouts will play a huge role in getting me to my goal of a sub-four hour marathon. If you’re like me, most of you have not had a track workout in a long time (maybe ever).  Here’s what you missed:

-Short strides.  Instead of taking long, loping strides, long-distance runners should take shorter, faster strides.  From Coach Barb: “Basically the theory states that the slower you take steps, the longer time you spend in the air. The longer you’re in the air, the more you displace your body mass and the harder you hit the ground on landing. This can lead to injury and also demands more from your leg muscles.”  You should aim for 90 strides (that’s 2 steps, so count every time your right foot hits) in 60 seconds.  This works and has changed the way I run.

-Run on egg shells.  Sometimes, I hear myself running and I sound like an elephant.  This is bad.  Running lightly is (obviously) easier on your ankles, knees, and hips.  You do this my rolling with your foot.  Think heel, mid-sole, toe in a fluid rolling motion. 

-Pick-Ups.  We ran a series of 100 meter runs, starting slow, speeding up to 80%, then recovering.  In this exercise I made a discovery: I am not fast.  It’s possible I was never really fast, it’s just that golden hue of memories that make things look better than they were.  Still, it’s kind of strange.  I can run for a long time at a pretty solid speed, but running fast… well, that’s a whole other issue. 

At least my shorts didn’t have a hole burned into them.

I’m eight weeks from standing at the ING Georgia starting line, still more than $1,00o from my goal.  Click here to donate to fight cancer.  Thanks!

I’M A RUNNER??!!

I’ll admit it.  It was peer pressure.  Actually, it was co-worker pressure.  Fellow reporter Julie Wolfe sent out an email inviting us to take part in a Zooma 5k.  I was looking for a boost in my workout routine (I walked a treadmill or went to spin classes a couple times a week) so I agreed.  Then I realized the last time I had run for any significant length of time was back in college (think late 80s). 

Committed, I remembered a friend had trained for a beginners’ race and had a training guide.  It was straight forward—I started by walking three minutes then running for one. Each week I was running more and walking less.  I did this four days a week for several months. I’m not going to say it was easy, but it was do-able.  The hardest part was the first month…literally, after every session something different hurt—an ankle, a knee, a hip, my shins—but I just kept walking and running.  To my amazement soon  the pains ceased, I was no longer gasping for air and  I was soon running (albeit slowly) for 15 minutes straight, then 20 and eventually 30 and 40.  I was hoping to do that first 5k in 45 minutes.

My first 5k (approx 31/2 months after beginning training) It was a great experience—great weather, no aches and pains (and thanks to my panic of needing to use a port-a-pottie at the finish line)—I finished in 38 minutes.  I was elated.  For the first time in a long time I set a goal for myself, just myself, and did what it took to reach it.  What seemed impossible and downright laughable (that at my age I could pick up running) is now my preferred exercise!  I try to run 30 minutes a day three times a week and on the fourth day (and sometimes 5!) I allow a lot of time and just go until I can’t go any farther.  I’m up to 4.3 miles and now looking forward to tackling 5 miles.  I forgot how much I love being outside with so much to look at  and the sheer feeling of getting away from it all—nothing beats stress like a good run. 

Duffie Dixon, 11 Alive News Reporter