Live, don't just exist!

So many people choose to quit.

Choose to stop living.

They're really cheating themselves, you know.

People don't really understand what they can accomplish if they want to. They have no idea how talented they are.

You find another side of yourself when you actually put your heart into something. That's one of the things that makes running unique... It's one of the few times you actually meet the challenge of doing something that is the most physically and mentally challenging thing you've ever done.

For me, I can't recall anything more complicated than finishing a race. That's why I've done so many of them. It's one of the few times in my life when I've felt entirely self-fulfilled. Especially with great friends by my side #runwalkforlife

Confessions of a Struggling Runner 💕

I want to run. To do what I always do, have always done, for the last ten years of my life. Escape, flee into the shadows, run happy, run free. 

But this time, I’m tired of struggling with running because I must.💜 

I want to run for me, for the love of the run.

Confession, I don’t think the marathon distance is for me anymore, or at least now. And I’m not even upset about it.

I loved E V E R Y T H I N G about my training. I found my true strength during that training cycle, which felt awesome. But this time, this time is so different, and at the end of my list of reasons why is a simple, “I’m just not into it.”

Now let’s not confuse that with I don’t love running anymore, because I do. I love the speed workouts and random “I feel like running” runs.💙 I just don’t love the long runs. Why? My mind wants to go, but my body not so much, and it seems like God is telling me that it’s just not my thing or my time…

Among the crazy list of reasons why I’m not meant to be a marathon runner at this time is my heart💓. Running after any injury is ridiculously hard. It’s been so frustrating. When it comes to long runs, I struggle. It isn’t getting easier. For some reason, it seems that in every long run of this training cycle, something goes wrong, or something happens that causes me to get in my head, and then I can’t get out. Yesterday, about three-plus km into my run, I got fed up with my Garmin. It was telling me my pace was 12 minutes, it didn’t matter if I sprinted or stopped, it stayed on 12. And it was messing with me mentally. 😵

I don’t even know if I was actually three-plus km into my run. I wanted to quit. I was annoyed with myself. My stubbornness didn’t want to stop my watch and start it again because then I would lose the total km of the run. I was getting so frustrated with the stop-and-go. It’s so darn hard.

I’m not giving up on marathons or maybe even ultras. And I will finish my next 21.1km. I’m just going to take it day by day, and get back to running because I want to, not because I have to. 

It’s time to change gears up for a little and redirect my focus!

Don't quit

So many people choose to quit. 

Choose to stop living. 

They're really cheating themselves, you know. 

People don't really understand what they can accomplish if they want to. They have no idea how talented they are. 

I think you find another side of yourself when you actually put your heart💓 into something. That's one of the things that makes running unique...it's one of the few times when you actually meet the challenge of doing something that is probably the most physically and mentally challenging thing you've ever done. 

For me, I can't recall anything more complicated than finishing a half marathon. That's why I've done so many of them. It's one of the few times in my life when I've felt entirely self-fulfilled.

My ♥ heart is running it's own marathon

Some months ago, I became alarmed with my own heartbeat💓. 

Sometimes, during relaxation, the heart skipped beats: instead of a nice steady oooooooo, I had an interrupted oo oo oo. 

Recently, however, the irregular or skipped heartbeats had been returning to a greater degree and also not always whilst resting. 

Accompanying these symptoms was an apparent dip in fitness, typically about a minute over 5km, but anything up to about 10%. Anyone who runs or trains regularly would be somewhat concerned by this alone and should be asking themselves a few questions about the training they are doing.

To encourage my heart💓to behave, I cut the training more than usual and completely cut out caffeine (known to upset heart rhythm). 

On my last night race and after a short warm-up, standing at the start, I could feel the tell-tale signs of my skipped beats, and sure enough, as I stood there with a finger on the pulse, I could feel my heart regularly missing one beat in three. 

Was I worried? Strangely not really, maybe my mind was more occupied with the thought of finishing the race. Unsurprisingly, I was slower than I should have been by about 10%. Sure, it felt hard (as it always will), but I’m not sure if my perceived effort was affected by some unconscious worry — probably it was. So, that little episode convinced me to do one thing: Visit the GP.

The result was that I tore a muscle in my heart💔; the ECG confirmed this. Sometimes, we never know why certain things affect us the way they do. Nevertheless, taking a bit of time off from running seems a natural thing to do. I will, of course, expect to lose a bit of fitness, but I’ve not been responding too well to training lately anyway, so there’s not much to lose in the short term.

So this is where I am right now. I’m scared but hopeful. It’s funny how something I thought was no big deal and probably something semi-normal in other athletes turned out to be a totally freaky thing pretty much confined to a select lucky few.

Apologies in advance

If you’ve ever run a marathon/half marathon—or heck, any sort of race, ever—you’ve totally done this before:

Bored someone to tears with all the intricate details of every single second of your fitness endeavour. 

On the one hand, you should be proud of your accomplishments. You did it! You’re awesome! But on the other hand … does the rest of the world really need to hear about the nasty blister you developed around 14.5km and how you had to stop for a minute at the next water station to pop it just to journey on? No. No, they do not.

We’ve all caught ourselves doing this occasionally: humble-bragging about our various fitness-related accomplishments. 

Let me show you how annoying it is. This is going to be pretty unbearable:

Let me tell you about my race last Saturday. But first, I have to go into detail about my months of preparation, talk about the encouragement and support I received from friends and family, and give you a kilometre-by-kilometre assessment of my state of mind and physical condition during the race.

I hate to say it, but it's going to take quite a bit of your time.

Kilometre split times, cramping, hydration levels, chafing—you're about to hear all of that. 

PLUS, I'll be dwelling on one point around 17km when I considered stopping but then decided to keep going because I'd already come so far. There's a lot to cover, so make yourself comfortable.

I'll inevitably start with how I carbo-loaded the night before the race, which by itself will not be a particularly long or objectionable story, but let me assure you it will segue right into an excruciatingly detailed explanation of the diet I maintain to stay in peak physical shape. And that, in turn, will lead into my training regimen, my special lightweight marathon gear, and, unfortunately for you, a lengthy period during which I expound upon the health benefits of distance running.

I know this isn't the kind of thing you want to listen to—hey, no one does—but I will include several anecdotes about my running partner Esna, a person you don't know and couldn't possibly be interested in hearing about.

Believe me, if I could stop myself from talking about this, I would. But I can't, so I will tell you all about my personal best time, and you'll think to yourself, "She is flipping crazy!" 

But here's the truly awful part: Out of politeness, you will have to pretend to be impressed by that number, even though, to you, it will seem completely arbitrary and hold no meaning at all.

You'll also be hearing quite a bit about the sense of accomplishment I felt upon finishing the race. You're going to hate that, trust me. There will be detestable phrases like "I never thought I could do it, but I did" and "It truly was a life-changing experience" and "It's a huge commitment, but definitely worth it."

I can barely express how insufferable I'm going to be.

I'm so sorry; I know you've done nothing to deserve this, but right when you think I'm finished talking—just when you get your hopes up—I'll mention how this wasn't my first race, and then you're going to hear details of my three other races. I can't even imagine how horrible it will be for you to hear how I believe I've progressed as a runner, but by that point in, there just won't be any getting around it.

While it is tangentially related, I may launch into an agonizing digression on the merits of five-day juice cleanses at any moment during the conversation. I beg your forgiveness.

Worst of all, I'm definitely going to run other races in the future, so I'll have to tell you all about the various races I'm thinking about entering and the pros and cons of each course. Please accept my deepest apologies in advance because as excruciating as today's discussion is, it won't end here.

Every day during my weeks of preparation leading up to the next race, I will make you stop whatever you're doing to tell you the number of kilometres I ran the previous evening. Isn't that awful? No one should have to listen to that.

I'll also have to tell you that you should run one of these things, too. I honestly can't convey how intensely sorry I feel that these words will soon be coming out of my mouth, but I will actually say to you that if I can run, so can you.

Wow, I'm really, really sorry. I don't know how you'll be able to tolerate this.

How To Fuel For A Half Marathon

Three great tips on carbo-loading and fuelling so you don’t hit the wall during your next 21.1. – By Pamela Nisevich Bede

Glen Montgomery

Brian asks: I’m getting ready to run a half marathon this weekend. If I need to carbo-load, what should I consume before the start of the race, and how do I fuel to avoid hitting the wall mid-race?

So first things first – the carbo-load. You might wonder if it’s as necessary for 21.1 as it is for 42.2. Honestly, I think it can’t hurt. A carbo-load before a half-marathon needn’t last as long or be as intense, but it is still important and will have a positive impact on your race performance.

Technically speaking, carbo-loading really comes into play any time you are out on the road for more than 90 minutes. Carbo-loading tends to lead to a bit of stiffness (because your muscles are fully stocked with glycogen) and weight gain (water retention), so for shorter events, it’s really not recommended.

Since most of us take longer than 90 minutes to complete a half-marathon, my recommendation is that you carbo-load in the days before the race. You can carbo-load in as little as one day, but to prevent carb fatigue and the worry of “Am I taking in enough?” aim to start two to three days before the half-marathon. You don’t necessarily need to increase your calories – just make sure most of those calories come from carbs, especially at lunch and dinner the day before race day.

Given time, your body can digest, absorb, and store the nutrients, and you can rely on those fuel stores on the next day’s run. The day before race day, have your main meal at midday and a smaller meal for dinner so you have plenty of time to digest.

The pre-race meal is also very important, as you want to toe the starting line with a tank that’s primed but neither empty nor overflowing. For more ideas on what to consume pre-race, check out this past lesson on how to fuel for an early morning run (since most races are held in the early a.m. hours).

Now that we’ve covered carbo-loading and what to eat before the race, it’s time to tackle your final question: “How do I avoid running on empty in those last few kilometres of the race?” As you may have noticed during your training, when you’re on the road for fewer than 75 minutes, you can usually rely on water, sports drinks, and your body’s own glycogen stores to carry you along. Any longer, and you begin to deplete those stores. Your muscles run out of fuel, and your body — not to mention your attitude — starts to drag. Consuming carbs mid-run can keep your blood sugar steady so you don’t crash and burn.

Instead of recommending something new on race day, here are some common techniques for fuelling which should help you blow by that late-race wall. Since every runner is different, you may want to try one or more of the following tips during training. Maybe all of them will work, and you’ll have plenty of options to thwart the feelings of weakness in those last few kays.

Tip #1:

Make sure to take in adequate fuel the day before your long run. While you are at rest, your body will have adequate time and energy to absorb and store those nutrients you ate, and then you can rely on this fuel for the following day. And don’t forget to eat a carb-rich, low-fibre, easy-to-digest, familiar breakfast the morning of the race!

Tip #2: Fuel at regular intervals and before you need to.

Wait until you’re out of gas, and you won’t be able to recover from feeling hungry or weak. Your muscles will be forced to play catch-up, and you won’t be able to bounce back and finish the run feeling strong. If you’ve ever had a long run that started strong and then got slower and slower, it may be time to consider what you did during the first few miles of the long runs you didn’t do during the last few kilometres. Many runners head out the door with a full tank, but feeling great, they neglect to re-fuel over the next few kays.

If you don’t start fuelling within that first hour, your empty-tank will likely catch up with you, and you’ll bonk. Not only will you hit the wall, but once your muscle glycogen stores are depleted, it can be very difficult to adequately recover during your run (and you may have to walk or crawl the last few kays). My advice is to avoid this whole mess? Aim for 30-60 grams of carbs per hour (and start using your chews, gels, or sports drinks early and often).

Tip #3: Don’t be afraid of fuel.

Maybe you’ve tried a product in the past and didn’t care for it, or it didn’t sit well with you. If that’s the case, know that there are always new products coming out. Try a variety of products and brands. For ideas on the many different fuel options available, check out this post on energy gels and alternatives to energy gels. Don’t be afraid to experiment with a few different products and see what works for you. Whatever concentrated fuel you are taking in, remember to dilute it with adequate water (or else it won’t be absorbed, and you will get nauseous). Lastly, find out what gel/product your race will hand out.

If you can tolerate or like the brand that the race is handing out, you’ll know that you won’t need to pack your own on race day. But if their chosen brand doesn’t work for you, you must plan ahead. In addition, you might try to find out at what kilometres the race will be handing out products and mimic that in your training to practice for race day.

Source: Runners World

Where have you gone, 10km?

Maybe it's just me waxing nostalgic, but doesn't it seem like the 10km has become the redheaded stepchild of the racing world?

There are multiple 5km every weekend. The half marathon is rapidly becoming a favourite in the running community, and the marathon is, well, the marathon. It's the granddaddy bucket-list race for most runners. 

But the 10km has gone from the 5km wingman to that odd distance that no one trains for or knows how to race. The new breeds of races—colour runs, foam runs, warrior dashes—have relegated it to obscurity. It's as if the 10km has been put in witness protection. 

Let's save the 10K from extinction.

Running 10km is nothing to sneeze at. It's far enough that we need to have a fair fitness level to complete it but short enough that we have to push ourselves out of that comfortable conversation speed to compete in it. It’s a great balance of speed, strength, endurance, heart, and guile. If you really want to find an event to test yourself, race a 10km.

Training for a 10km is an excellent stepping stone event for those looking to build from 5K training to a half marathon. It allows us to gradually build our training and racing mileage rather than jump to an event over 4x as far as what we've been tackling. Along with being a stepping stone event, it's also excellent prep work in between half marathon training seasons. 

Many of us run a spring half and a fall half. The problem is figuring out how to train in between seasons. Most folks tend to go polar. They either do absolutely nothing (or close to it) and then start back over from scratch, or they go to the other end of the spectrum and train like banshees and are fried mentally, emotionally, and physically when it's time to start training again. 

The 10km works out amazingly well for us to maintain our fitness level without going too crazy one way or another. It's just far enough where you'll need solid training, but not so long that it consumes large amounts of time.

The 10km is an enigma. It takes around an hour to complete and a lifetime to master. That is one reason why it has become a forgotten distance. But the 10km may be that key cog in your training to help you take down some PRs this year.

If you are looking for a race that will challenge your endurance, speed, and will, then take the time to tackle a 10km. Learn to appreciate this special distance.

Why do I run?

It happened again the other day.

“So, why do you run…?”

I held back a salvo of snarky retorts when the words left his mouth.

My answer:

“It’s a nervous habit, and skipping takes too much coordination. “Why? Did you see me?”

What am I supposed to do with a question like that? It’s like asking why you love your kids, why The Beatles were so good, or why a sandwich tastes better when someone else makes it.

You either get it, or you don’t.

Okay, I thought, putting on my best Jack Nicholson, you want answers? You want answers? I rolled up my mental sleeves. Let’s do this.

“Why do I run?”

🏃 I run because I believe you have to earn your cookies.

🏃I run because golf is boring.

🏃I run because these white legs have to get tan somehow.

🏃I run because I’ve never really enjoyed my IT band.

🏃I run because the runner’s high is real and legal.

🏃I run because I never want to waste money on laxatives.

🏃I run because while I never plan on stealing anything, I want to be prepared, just in case.

🏃I run because there’s no swagger like a post-long-run limp.

🏃I run because I don’t think you should murder people.

🏃I run because, yes, I would like a second piece of chocolate cake.

🏃I run because I think the 1980s were on to something with their infatuation with neon and spandex.

🏃I run because I spent four years of high school doing hypothetical math problems about Bob travelling so many kilometres per hour on his bike and Larry racing him at so many miles per hour in his sports car. I’ll be darned if I let those conversion skills go to waste.

🏃I run because how can you not have an adventure when you wake up at 4:30 a.m., strap on a headlamp, and cover twenty km on foot?

🏃I run because I like knowing the location and schedule of every bathroom in the city.

🏃I run because trails get muddy when it rains.

🏃I run because 1,800 calories a day doesn’t cut it.

🏃I run because sometimes you need to cry.

🏃I run because sometimes you need to laugh.

🏃I run because sometimes you need to vent.

🏃I run because sometimes you need to do all three in an hour.

🏃I run because an old man shuffles down his driveway in a white robe and house slippers at the crack of dawn every day, and, gosh darn it, he needs somebody to wave to.

🏃I run because I can solve more of the world’s problems in four kays than the South African Congress can solve in two years.

🏃I run because I don’t want to talk to anybody.

🏃I run because you won’t believe what happened yesterday, and guess what my husband said. I had the strangest dream last night. Did you hear about that one guy?

🏃I run because I can eat an entire pie if I’m not careful.

🏃I run because I want the free t-shirt that costs a R200.00 registration fee and 21.1 km of torture.

🏃I run because, let’s face it, it’s a lot cooler than rollerblading.

🏃I run because I feel like GI Jane when I strap on my water belt.

🏃I run because I’ve never finished a run and thought, “I wish I hadn’t done that,” but I have felt that way after eating at McDonald’s, listening to a Taylor Swift song or watching another episode of My Strange Addiction.

🏃I run because I like blowing my nose any way I want to, anywhere I want to, any time I like to.

🏃I run because I want to be strong, not skinny; because the only thigh gap that exists is the one that occurs when I’m stretching my hamstring; because I’d rather crush that hill at 20km than squeeze into a pair of skinny jeans; because these legs are muscular and powerful and do everything I ask them to do, which is ridiculously amazing if you ask me.

🏃I run because the little girl inside me still believes there’s a shot I could make the Olympics if only I could discover my “distance.”

🏃I run because I like to drive down the highway, read the kilometre markers, and keep driving and driving, knowing that I covered more distance on foot during my last training run.

🏃I run because I like being part of that group of people at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday mornings who are slogging the kays come rain or shine of hell or high water or all of the above.

🏃I run because it adds something to morning coffee that cream and sugar just can’t.

🏃I run because it makes me feel connected to the earth, nature, universe, and myself.

🏃I run because it disconnects me from everything else.

🏃I run because I like being ridiculous.

🏃I run because we are a great conflict, ballistic and controlled, chaotic and focused, delirious and strategic, contained and boundless, gluttons for punishment and jealous for glory.

🏃I run because we’re human, darn it and our bodies were made to move, our arms were made to pump, our quads were made to burn, our calves were made to contract, our feet were made to fly, our noses were made to drip, our eyes were made to water, our guts were made to spill, our cheeks were made to turn bright cherry red, our lungs were made to explode, our hearts were made to pump blood with frenzy and passion and single-minded obsession until we come as close to possible to unassisted flight, abandoning mortality and reaching, if only for a moment, the realm of divinity.

🏃I run because I’m alive.

“DOES THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?”

My issue with "The Athleisure Trend"

athleisure 

[ath-lee-zher, ‐lezh-er]

noun

a style of clothing worn as athletic apparel but also suitable for casual, everyday wear:

Athleisure looks great whether you're working out or just running errands.

When I first started running in school, my sports bras almost resembled a Kevlar vest—lots of straps, lots of Velcro, thick enough to stop a bullet. Those sports bras weren’t pretty, but they got the job done. Besides, no one saw them. Like most runners, I usually wear one of the 500 free race shirts I’ve accumulated over the years.

If you had told me back then that running clothes would become a fashion trend, I would have laughed hard enough to bust a few Velcro connections.

But here we are, watching models strut down the catwalk in sweat-wicking material. We don’t call them “running clothes” anymore. Now it’s “athleisure” because the Giseles and Behatis of the world do not actually run marathons—they just look like they do.

And yes, I was annoyed when my favourite running apparel company began adding padding to the busts of their bras, but I didn’t complain. I just smiled, squeezed the sweat out of my boob stuffing and went back to my running.

The same thing happened with running shorts. Once upon a time, my butt was covered during hill repeats. Over the years, the inseams of women’s running shorts have gotten shorter and the leg openings tighter. Even leggings, the last bastion of coverage for women who run, have become see-through and chafe-tastic.

It’s become cool to dress like a runner, but we can’t actually run in these clothes anymore. Sports bras, particularly, have become the lame duck of the athleisure trend. Actual support has been eschewed for a dizzying array of delicate straps woven into the most intricate designs. They’re high fashion and oh-so-adorable until you actually try to run in them.

While at an expo recently, I was talking with a manufacturer of such high-fashion sports bras. Designed to be worn alone or with tank tops, the new bras had straps and bright fabrics that were stunning.

“Do me a favour,” I asked one of the models, sporting a spiderweb of fine threads over her shoulders. “Jog to the end of the walkway, would you?”

I still cringe when I think of the model’s pained grimace as she bounced—quite literally— those few yards. I’m supposed to be able to run a marathon in that thing? For the average woman who runs, sports bras are not for show. They’re the workhorse of the wardrobe, second only to running shoes in importance. I don’t need lace and cleavage; I need an excellent old-fashioned over-the-shoulder boulder holder so that the only thing I have to ice after a marathon is my wine.

Manufacturers want so badly to capitalize on the athleisure trend that they’ve stopped making athletic wear. Fancy straps and sheer panels are a nice idea, but they lose their wow factor when covered by a free tech T-shirt.

If Gisele and Behati ever got off the catwalk and trained for a marathon, I’m sure they’d agree.

A Burnout Runner

Shuffling along at a pace I couldn’t have guessed if I tried, the wind whipped through my hair as I jammed to the sound of Bruno Mars. For this run, I only had one goal—to end it, being happy that I had gone in the first place.

There are plenty of motivational Pinterest quotes and Facebook posts that say things like:

“The only runs you regret are the ones you didn’t do.”

But that hadn’t been true for me for longer than I cared to admit. 

I regretted the runs I ran too fast and even more so the ones I ran too slow. 

I regretted the runs that felt too hot or cold, the runs when I felt tired and when I didn’t get to talk to my friends. I started to feel as if I regretted them all.

With my first marathon as a goal later this year, I pour myself into intense training. And it’s not just the training. Along with this are the scheduling, the dieting, the actual races and the sacrifices that we, our families and friends and sometimes, even our work, must make to stay in top racing form (or just be able to do the sport).

I experienced emotions that I never felt before: 

🔥lack of interest in the sport, the sport that I loved so much; 

🔥diminishing returns from training; 

🔥difficulty in training as hard as I did only a few weeks back; 

🔥irritability and a general feeling of guilt for not training at top level; 

🔥and sometimes, intermittent illness either manifests as a bum stomach, slight fever or mild headaches.

Struggling with burnout in the aftermath of my training for a marathon, I wondered whether I would ever want to run again. As someone who has spent five years letting running define my existence, I couldn’t believe how much bitterness I felt. Combine that with the guilt I carried for not being grateful that I could run after months of injury, knowing how many people would kill to be able to get back on the roads, and the results were ugly.

Regardless of how selfish I felt, I knew I had to find the fun in running again or leave the sport behind. Life is too short to run (or do anything else) if you hate it.

So, maybe I’ll let running go. I tried to remember all the things running has taught me and why I loved it so much in the first place. Perhaps most importantly, I asked myself: “If I knew I would never PR again or run a marathon, would I still run?”

It took me a while to answer that question, but eventually, I found myself looking forward to lacing up my shoes. I got the itch to sign up for a marathon and start training again, although this time with much less self-imposed pressure. Of course, I would still run.

Over the years, I have run for emotional salvation, to achieve personal bests, as an excuse to travel and make friends, and even as a justification for that extra glass of wine. But now? I’m just going to run for me and for fun. I realized it was misguided to think my relationship with the sport would stay the same even as the rest of my life shifted. Like the supportive family member it is, running welcomed me back with open arms.

The prodigal runner has returned!

How To Avoid The Dreaded Camel Toe

Whether we want to admit it or not, we’ve all had it. It sneaks up on us when we least expect it and lets everyone know it’s there. It’s almost like it’s waving, “HELLO!” and we’re the last ones to know. Until that race photo shows exactly what it’s been up to.

Yes, I am referring to our infamous camel toe. Thanks to race photos, we are lucky enough to catch sight of it in all its glory. I have, however, learned from experience how to avoid the dreaded camel toe.

With summer in full swing, it can be tricky to avoid the toe and still stay cool. I know sometimes it’s an unavoidable suction in our body that creates this silhouette. By using the following tips, you can avoid camel toe while running. You can let the rest of your body do all the talking.

1. Always try on running shorts before you buy them.

Not just shorts, but all lower body workout bottoms should be tried on before being purchased. Try walking out of the fitting room to see what they look like in different lighting. Also, move around in them while you try them on. Try squatting, jumping and running in place.

2. Make sure to purchase bottoms that aren’t high-waisted.

“High-waisted” and “workout gear” are two terms that should never be used in the same sentence. I find that workout bottoms that fit comfortably on your hips are the best option. High-waisted workout apparel tends to ride up and gather at the toe.

3. Don’t wear new bottoms on the day of a race.

Every runner knows to not try new foods, new shoes, or new GUs on race day, and your shorts or bottoms shouldn’t be an exception. Make sure to wear a pair you’ve worn before and are comfortable in.

4. Buy running bottoms with attached underwear.

I’m always much more comfortable wearing running bottoms with attached underwear. These bottoms were created to allow proper ventilation and avoid bunching at the toe. These types of shorts are sold in several different brands and materials.

5. Use chafing cream.

When there is friction, garments can get “sucked” into areas they don’t belong. Embrace chafing cream and lather up! Why go through the pain (physical and emotional) when you can address both issues with one simple-to-use product?

Life is tough!

Life is tough; that's a given.

When you stand up, you're gonna be shoved back down. When you're down, you're gonna be stepped on. My advice to you doesn't come with many bells and whistles.

It's no secret: You'll fall down, you'll stumble, you'll get pushed, you'll land square on your face. But, every time that happens, you get back on your feet. You get up as fast as you can, no matter how many times you need to do it.

Remember this -- Success has been and continues to be defined as getting up one more time than you've been knocked down.

If experience has taught me anything, it's that nothing is free and living ain't easy. Life is hard, real hard, incredibly hard. You fail more often than you win. Nobody's handing you anything. It's up to you to puff up your chest, stretch your neck, and overcome all the difficulties. The nasty. The mean. The unfair.

Do you want more than you have now? Prove it!

Do you want to be the very best there is? Get out there and earn it!

Once you decide that, you will know where you want to be, and you won't stop pushing forward until you get there!

That's how winners are made.

At the end of the day, success is what we all want. We all wanna win, and the race will be won. There is no question about that. So, come on. Get out on top! Run faster! Dream bigger! Live better than you have ever before.

This is in you! You can do it! Do it for yourself. Prove it to yourself.

Modern Athlete - March 2017 Edition

Check out my winning letter in the March 2017 edition of Modern Athlete.

https://www.modernathlete.co.za/magazine

and my prize ....

Thanks Modern Athlete!

The Ultimate Guide to Running Lingo

Want to walk the walk—or, in this case, run the run? Then it’s time to learn how to talk the talk!

Everyone knows runners are all a liiittle bit crazy, so it’s no surprise they have a language all their own.

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNFIE

(NOUN)

A photograph that you take of yourself before, during and after a run, proving to the world just how bad-ass you are.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“I’m going to slay this marathon, but first, let me take a runfie.” 

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUN-NY

(ADJECTIVE)

A runner or running event evoking a ton of laughter or amusement; humorous.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“Oh, she is so funny! The last time we ran together, she made me laugh so hard GU came out of my nose!”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNVIOUS

(ADJECTIVE)

Feeling or showing envy of another runner.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“No, I’m not jealous that I didn’t get into the Cross Country SA Team! I’m fine!”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNGER

(ADJECTIVE)

An overwhelming feeling of weakness and/or rage caused by the hunger a runner experiences every 1-2 hours when training for an endurance race.

Easily identified via the sentences:

"I ran a half marathon yesterday, and right now, I need a pizza. NO, I’M NOT GOING TO SHARE. GET YOUR OWN PIZZA!”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNCH

(NOUN)

A meal eaten in the middle of the day before and/or after lunch but because you’re a runner and runger is real.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“What do you want to eat for runch? I had a salad for lunch, and I’m starving! Let’s get burgers and chips!”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNHOLE

(NOUN)

An irritating or contemptible runner who neglects their friends, family and significant others when they train for an endurance race.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“I can’t; I have a long run in the morning”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

RUNKLES

(NOUN)

When your calves and feet become one due to excessive amounts of running.

Easily identified via the sentences:

“Will you rub my runkles?”

🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

The distance runner

The distance runner is mysteriously reconciling the separations of body and mind, of pain and pleasure, of the conscious and the unconscious. He is repairing the rent and healing the wound in his divided self. He has found a way to make the ordinary extraordinary, the commonplace unique, the everyday eternal.

Why do we plank?

Vitamins & Minerals

To be married to a runner.

Maybe at first, dating or marrying a runner might not seem like a bright idea. Really, who wants to spend most of their time with a fitness-obsessed freak who usually wakes up before the sun is out, hands over their hard-earned cash for race entry fees and is probably missing a few toenails?

My husband Abrie is NOT a runner. Nope. No way. But he is a great husband who quietly listens to his wife yammer about her sport. One might say he has successfully mastered the art of the “passive listener of running talk”.

To top it off, I decided to train for my first marathon, and I’m beginning to experience a nagging feeling that has started to intensify.

For once, I’m not referring to nagging feelings of injury; all is smooth sailing on the injury front. [*knocks vigorously on wood*] What’s really starting to eat at me right now is Guilt, yes, with a capital G. Early in the training cycle, it was a faint whisper, but with each passing week, the nagging internal monologue grows louder:

Your running is selfish!

Your running is annoying to everyone, especially your family!

You’d be a better mom/wife/friend if you weren’t taking so much time to RUN.

As runners, we are faced with scheduling conflicts and compromise. Sometimes running is inconvenient, and it doesn’t always just inconvenience us. Running can be a massive pain in the butt for everyone who relies on us too.

For me, the guilt is sometimes overwhelming. While my other runs were shorter and less frequent, and therefore more easily re-scheduled, marathon training runs require focus and dedication to squeezing them all in. This means I have less wiggle room in my schedule to work around a kid’s temper tantrum, my husband’s desire to sleep in on a Saturday morning, or spontaneity in general.

A typical conversation with my husband sounds a little bit like this:

Abrie: Do we have anything going on this weekend? I’d like to do A, B, and C.

Me: Oh, sure, that would be fine. We don’t have much going on. I just have to run 20km on Saturday morning, Oh, and I have 10km to run on Sunday. Can you fit A, B, and C into Sunday evening sometime?

Abrie: Sigh…

And cue Guilt.

In all fairness to my dear husband, he is actually incredibly accommodating. He supports my running and almost always has a delicious meal ready for me when I return home from a long run.

Despite that, I start to even annoy myself with the broken record statement, “But first … my run.” I think my husband’s accommodating nature actually makes me feel MORE guilty sometimes. I feel he needs to punish me by acting more annoyed. Then again, I don’t think I’d like that much either.

I suppose when you’re a wife/mom/friend/runner, you’re used to balancing multiple roles in life, and guilt is inevitable whenever the delicate balance of all things is disrupted. 

Marathon training stops for no one, which means it’s not conducive to pleasing everyone who matters to you. There is something to be said for being dedicated enough to attempt to make it all work, but I also have to have some self-compassion that there will be times when I drop a ball (or four), and that’s just a function of being human. I’d likely drop balls even if I wasn’t training for a marathon because, well, I’m a human!

So how do I manage all of this internal discord? On my pessimistic days, I begin to resent my training. I don’t let myself stay in that mental place very long, though. These feelings are my cues that I’m probably tired, and it’s expected to get down on myself when I look at my calendar, and fitting it all in seems impossible. I have to remind myself that I chose this. I choose to run amongst the chaos of the rest of my life. I must remind myself that this is temporary and that this training cycle has an end date.

I know that this is a wonderful problem to have; I have a lot of people who want my time, and I’m healthy and strong enough to train for a marathon. Sometimes it feels like a tough decision to compromise and make sacrifices when it ALL feels essential. But, just like we do when we run a race, we have to take the attitude in life that we just need to show up and do our best.

Oh, yeah, and when that training plan IS finally done: I am making my husband and children some damn pancakes!!

I am a runner, trying to cycle 🚴

If Runners are Weird, Cyclists are Crazy!

Cyclists are all deluded.

All of them.

I’m being darned serious here. One thing I find most entertaining about this is that they’re the first to tell you:

“Runners are weird”.

They start at o'dark thirty. They are constantly talking about driving to the mountains to climb XYZ mountain on their bikes. They insist that there is a fierce camaraderie found in “suffering” together on hills.

A runner would never say that sort of thing...

The gear is weird, too. Tough to argue with me on that point. After all, it takes a confident man to shimmy into a Lycra and spandex blend and walk around in shiny white shoes that tap on the blacktop. Clickity, clickity clip. Also, there are very few folks who look good in spandex. Even professional athletes aren’t all that sexy when squeezed into bike shorts.

There are exceptions to that rule. There are always exceptions. 

But I am The Rule, not The Exception.  🚷 ⛔ 🚳

Oh yes, Cyclists are a different breed.

They perch on saddles constructed of a 2-inch plastic triangle covered in a sliver of leather for hours of hot, sweaty fun and think nothing of it. Really, on that note, sane people shouldn’t mess with cyclists. They clearly have a pain tolerance higher than the average bear. Or woman, for that matter.

Many Cyclists I have encountered enjoy dishing advice to people they perceive as “noobs”, even if the noob isn't really a noob... The best advice I ever got was regarding cadence.

“You are pedalling too hard. You need to spin more in a circle pattern and pedal in a lighter gear. But not too light. So basically pedal hard enough, without pedalling too hard.”

What?? Gosh. Thanks.

Also, they are very big into safety. As they should be. This sh*t is scary and dangerous.

So, safety advice like "wear a light" is responsible, and everyone should listen. Safety advice like, “Let’s all be safe out there today” is less brilliant. Or other safety advice that is critically important: “Don’t forget to grease the crease”. No, there will be no further details here.

Frankly, I don’t know why anyone does this sport.

It seems nothing but trouble. "Mechanicals", "Chaffing", and "Cars" are all part of the repertoire.

But let's not dwell too long on Cars. They are a scary business. To me, cars hate cyclists because they believe that roads are for cars and cars only. My inner therapist thinks they hate cyclists because bikes scare cars, or do they scare cars? It could be either one, really.

The roads that have fewer cars and are thus logically more appropriate for cycling have only about 3 inches of “extra” road on the other side of the yellow line, so when one does encounter a car, it’s always a cosy experience. Often, these roads are hemmed by 8-foot ditches on either side, which makes sharing difficult for even the best-intentioned driver or cyclist.

By far, though, the strangest part of this sport is the territorial boundaries between the active people who do it and the active people who do everything else.

From where I'm perched on my 2-inch plastic triangle, Cyclists and Runners don't mix all that well.

Weird, right?

Runners hate cyclists because Cyclists hate runners because Runners hate cyclists because...

Of course, from what I’ve seen of them, Swimmers 🏊 are bright enough to stay out of the mix.

Probably because they think they’re superior to the cyclists and the runners.