Kristy Maute

Comfort in Repetition

Double digits are a part of my weekend vocabulary again. I ran 10 miles this morning. What guided today’s run was a small little a-ha moment I had on Wednesday as I was running with my coach.

Wednesday night, the weather was in our favor: 75 degrees with a breeze off the bay. I did my usual 1.6 mile warm up to the visitor’s center. My hip was feeling good, so we felt confident that I could challenge my body with a real speed work out. We were sticking to the paved road. Back down the road, back up, down, up and down one more time. Each segment was filled with 30 and 60 second speed intervals with 15 seconds of focused fast arm work and active recovery. After the first segment, I thought to myself that I was going to have to beg my coach to let me go back to the car after the third set. There was no way I was making it through five intervals. Before we headed off, my coach told me that the key factor in the work was not panicking. I had to remember to relax in the workout. When it physically got tough (and it got tough), I had to stay mentally calm. After the second set, I still felt like I was going to have to call it quits early. During my third set, I found comfort in the repetition. I knew exactly how long each segment would last. My muscles were warming up. By the end of the fifth segment – yes, I survived all five sets – my legs were exhausted, but my mental strength was stronger than it was in the start. I expected to crumble on the cool down run back to the car, but somehow the 1.4 miles back to the car felt great.

Today when my run got mentally hard, I remembered not to panic. I ran another new route today. I get tired of running the same route for all of my long runs. This route had a lot of long straight stretches. I like direction change in my runs. Two miles of straight running always gets to me mentally. During one of those two-mile stretches that always challenge me, it dawned on me. Maybe there is something to be said for finding repetition in my long runs. Maybe instead of always looking for somewhere new to run, I should stick to the same path. I should allow the same roads to help shape my mental strength. There is something to be said for knowing exactly where your going. Maybe I can make those two-mile stretches feel as familiar as the fifth segment in my speed workout on Wednesday.

Overcast, light rain, and fall-like temperatures

Once I conquered that two-mile stretch, I turned back towards the ocean. I had one mile to go until I hit my favorite stretch at the oceanfront. Along this stretch, I also realized how repetition is what makes life comfortable. I’m in new territory with my faster miles. The more I run them, the more confident I will become. I won’t question my ability when I see an 8 on my garmin in the middle of a long run. In life we are also approaching a new season. School will be back in session soon. Chet’s starting daycare two days a week. Cole is playing soccer for the first time. The fall is going to bring a lot of change in our family. The key to surviving this transition is not panicking. After a few weeks this new territory will become our new norm. It will all be a part of our normal family routine just like faster long runs are becoming my normal running routine.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way ~Carl Sandburg

When I started on this running journey a few years ago, I was running to reclaim a part of myself that got lost years ago. I wanted to move and breath. I wanted to feel the freedom I felt on the track when I was in High School. I never expected to run a marathon. I wasn’t trying to be a runner. I had nothing to prove. Since running that marathon back in March, I feel like I’m rediscovering that feeling of freedom. Running is such an amazing gift in my life. My goal in marathon #1 was to learn what it felt like to run 26.2 miles. My goal for marathon #2, Richmond Marathon, is learning how to challenge myself over the course of 26.2 miles. It’s a completely different quest. With this different objective comes an entire new set of life lessons waiting for me to discover them. This week I feel like I put myself on the path to discovering what I’m capable of achieving.

Today’s Run: 10 miles at a 9:06 pace….an unofficial PR by 2:03

(9:26, 9:09, 9:07, 9:04, 8:52, 9:10, 9:05, 9:17, 8:47)

Live, Love, Run

By the time August rolls around, I’ve had it with summer running. My motivation to run has been slowly disappearing. I’m sleeping through my alarm clock. I’m dreading the early morning weekend run. Technically speaking, I’m 93 days away from the Richmond Marathon, yet I don’t have the marathon buzz just yet. Blame it on the injury or the absent training plan (although I really do have one), or the weather. My running lows are currently out weighing my running highs.

Or at least that was my story until last night…

Not too long ago, I learned that I had been selected by my favorite race organization to be a member of their Live, Love, Run Team. J&A Racing hosts five local races including the Shamrock Marathon. I applied to be on this team because I truly believe they are the best in the business. No one celebrates running, runners, family, and community quite like J&A Racing. Last night they organized a local 3.5 mile fun run. It included a gorgeous run along the Lynnhaven Bay and connected to a beach run along the Chesapeake Bay. (Living in a town full of water is amazing!) After the run, we celebrated with food, italian ice, and beer. The party wouldn’t be complete without live music too. All of this was free. You just had to bring a donation for For Kids. They were collecting school supplies for kids in the local community who would otherwise go back to school empty-handed.

With a new backpack and a bag full of paper, pencils, and crayons, my entire family (including my mom and dad) headed to the event. While my family walked, I got to run with two friends I haven’t seen since the Crawling Crab (also organized by J&A Racing) last October. I saw an endless stream of familiar faces – a childhood friend and her husband, a long time friend of my sister, fellow Live, Love, Run Team members and blogging friends (The Beachy Runner and The Fit Petite), and friends of my husband. The entire evening (and maybe the two beers) left me feeling giddy not only about running, but also about the adventures I’m about to tackle with J&A Racing. The running community in Virginia Beach is amazing.

View of the Lynnhaven Bay (taken by The Beachy Runner)

My hip is feeling stronger every day. I feel honored to be working with J&A Racing. And my next marathon is 93 days away!

The cherry on top: this morning I woke up to Fall weather! Low humidity. High of 75. My air conditioner is off, my windows are open, and I have a date with my running coach tonight!

And what about that training plan….I’ve updated my training page. You can read about it here. I’ve also given my blog a facelift. I hope you like it! I’ll be making lots of changes over the next few weeks.

I Hear You.

Sunday morning I got out of bed a little later than I had hoped. The first thought that surfaced in my head before I even had time to open my eyes was how does my hip feel? The answer: okay. I checked the weather: 98% humidity, 71 degrees and a dew point of 70. As I walked downstairs, the sliding glass doors were cover in condensation. It was muggy outside. A quick change of clothes, a few bites of a bagel, a quick kiss to my husband, a promise to be home no later than 9, and I was out the door. The boardwalk was waiting for me.

I started at the point furthest south, not my usual path. I’ve been focusing on relaxing in my runs more lately. I’ve been trying to listen to what my legs are offering during each run. My plan was to run easy for the first four miles and then I’d turn around and kick it up a notch for the route back to the car. Heading out my run felt clunky. My legs didn’t want to respond. The number on my garmin reflected exactly how I felt. 10:00 flat. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a 10 on my watch. I’ve worked hard to get out of that zone. My brain tried to have a melt down, but I reeled it back in. My legs were tired from the speedy run the night before. It had been less than 12 hours. Forcing my legs to open up might trigger hip pain. I’d rather run pain free. I settled in for the next 3 miles. 9:39. 9:38. 9:35. Clunk clunk clunk. The run felt sluggish and slow, but my body was happy.

Somewhere between mile 4 and 5 my body started to respond. I felt like it whispered thank you for being kind to me this morning, now I’m ready to run. The miles back to my car felt light. They were the perfect balance of pushing myself and enjoying the run. 9:26. 8:46. 8:49. 8:47.

I have a tendency to want things instantly. I want my hip to heal, so it should feel better now. I want to run fast, so I should be faster. I’m hungry. I better eat now or the whole world will know I’m grumpy. I’m ready to leave for work. The boys better be in the car ready to go now too. I’m ready for bed. Christian better follow me on my heels or he will get left in the dark. It’s not my best quality. This run reminded me of that. No matter how fast or far or quick or instantaneously I want it, acknowledging were I am has to be step #1.

If I want my hip to heal, I should probably acknowledge that I’m injured. If I want to run faster, I should probably acknowledge the progress I’ve made so far. This time last year, I ran 12 miles at an 11:10 pace. This weekend I ran 8 miles at a 9:20 pace. Nothing happens right now, over night, or at the exact moment I demand it. Let’s be honest, life shouldn’t work that way. When I rush out the door and hurry up the family, I always forget something of importance. When I panic about eating dinner right now, I take short cuts and ditch the plan for dinner. The quick and now results are never of any quality. Slowing down is not a bad thing. Stressing to go further and faster in both life and running is only going stop forward progress.

After my eight mile run, I promised myself that I would be kind to my body. I would say thank you more often . I would listen when it doesn’t want me to rush. I will avoid short cuts, quick fixes, and rushing out the door. And while I’m at it, I might as well do this in all aspects of my life. There is a time and a place (and sometimes a need) for rushing. Normal day-to-day life (and running) isn’t one of those.

Final stretch home: a new path under the Rudee Inlet Bridge

Tantrums

We have hit that stage. Whenever Chet doesn’t get what he wants, he flings himself backwards. He wails. He cries. Sometimes he tries to hit or bite or pull hair. He knows what he wants. After an exhausting evening, both boys tucked into bed, Christian and I just stared at each other. How does one small, almost 19 month old cause so much disruption. The house is in a constant state of clutter. Our nerves are in a constant state of waiting: waiting to see if he will have another melt down. Maybe we aren’t challenging him enough, Christian suggested in a half-joking way.

I think there might be some truth in his joke.

On Sunday, I set out to run 8 miles. It has been a long time since I’ve seen this number on my garmin. I headed to the trails fueled by my fabulous, pain-free, care-free, fast 10k on Wednesday night. A mile into the run my hip was aggravated. My stride became stiff and rigid. I wanted to fling myself backwards. I wanted to wail. I wanted to cry. I just wanted my hip to be better. How can one tiny SI joint cause so much disruption in my running? My running has become fragmented at best. My nerves are in a constant state of waiting: waiting to see if my hip will behave on each run. At mile 2.5, I sent my husband a text. I was ready to throw in the towel. I wanted to yell I surrender. I give up. I’m done.

I think there might be some truth in my confession.

After each melt down, Chet picks himself up off the ground. He moves on to whatever stole his interest. Sometimes he curls up in my lap. Sometimes he wants his milk. He reengages with the world, and life is good. I don’t recover nearly as quickly. It took two days, two miles of today’s four mile run and a serious chat with myself to pick myself up off the ground. After my melt down, I ran two more carefree, fun, easy (and fast) miles. I drank some water. I’m back in touch with reality.

The truth in Christian’s joking suggestion is there. Chet probably does want more engagement. At the end of a long day, the mad rush to cook dinner, give baths (showers for the older child), frantically clean up, take a moment to breathe, and make time to play doesn’t always tilt in Chet’s favor. Chet is growing up and is one member in a family of four. Sometimes dinner wins out over playing in the backyard. Sometimes chatter with Cole wins over playing trucks. Sometimes it does favor Chet. We have time for walks and soccer and popcorn parties in the small window of time that is our evening. It’s a balance I will never master. In a perfect world, Chet would be engaged in all those things but that is not reality. Sometimes life just has to be lived.

The truth in my confession is also there. I do surrender. I have been chasing a marathon. I have plans to run the Richmond Marathon in November, and I know I’m capable of running it fast. I also have a hip that is slow to heal. I’ve been caught in the frantic head space of balancing a healing hip and wanting it all right now. I want to run. I want my hip to feel good. I want to go fast. Every run isn’t going to tilt in my favor either. Some runs are exactly what I needed, and other runs are a reminder of why I loved those other runs. I have to surrender to the entire process. I give up on running the perfect run. I’m back to my running reality of letting each run come to me.

Don’t let these temper tantrums fool you. Sometimes you need to fling yourself backwards, wail and cry to let go of an expectations you had for yourself. Somewhere in the middle of that melt down, you’ll let go of those false expectations that were holding you back from enjoying life. These temper tantrums help you release frustrations and disappointments. When they are done and out of your system, you will fly towards where you belong.

Running + Sunrise + Ocean Air = Free Therapy

To clarify, I haven’t given up on running Richmond or running fast. I’m just changing my approach. Each run can not be about training for a specific race. This doesn’t work for me. Instead each run is about honoring myself, my body, and the joy I get from running. This is what is going to carry me through my running life.

Shifting

Life has stages, live in harmony with them. ~ Eoin Finn

I’ve been waiting for the next stage of life to begin. I’ve been sitting on the verge of what is about to happen. I’ve been quietly waiting for the next chapter.

So many chapters of my life have come to a close lately. Chet has reached a new level of independence. We’ve said goodbye to almost all things baby. Cole has blossomed this year. He has shed so many layers of insecurity and has needed less protecting. Christian and I have settled into a wonderfully comfortable groove of give and take. I feel like his wife again. I know something is waiting for me in this comfort zone.

I’m back in the yoga studio once a week. My running is just waiting to take off as soon as my hip heals. I am waiting and waiting for the next chapter to show up.

Life is a train of moods like a string of beads; and as we pass through them they prove to be many colored lenses, which paint the world their own hue, and each shows us only what lies in its own focus. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Two years ago, I bought my first set of mala beads. I loved these beads. They broke shortly before I gave birth to Chet. While I was so sad to let them go, the timing of the broken strand of beads was perfect. I had let go of my need to control the scenarios in my life.

Days before Chet was born, I had a deep need for another set of beads. I walked into a local yoga store, placed the turquoise mala around my neck, and knew I’d be taking them home with me. The coolness of the stone was an amazing contrast to heat of my skin.

For a year and a half, I’ve been wearing these beads. I’ve also been secretly waiting for them to break. Their purpose always felt related to transitioning from mom of 1 to mom of 2. Their purpose was about welcoming Chet into this world. Hadn’t I moved on to the next chapter? Hadn’t I learned the lessons I need to learn from the intention attached to the mala?

I’m still waiting for them to break. I’m still hanging on to this set of mala beads not trusting that I’ve learned all that intention had to offer, not trusting my path.

We have to find our own path and not just follow someone else’s. What makes something yoga is when it has a spiritual intention behind it. ~Eoin Finn

One of the reasons I love running is because it puts my yoga practice in motion. It is the place and the space where I always find my spiritual consciousness. Finding my edge and learning to run through those barriers is what guides me in so many of my life choices.

For the past two months, I’ve been running on a sore, perhaps injured, hip. Running with a constant awareness of every ache and pain in my hip has been far from spiritual. Saturday I ran seven miles, my longest run since these problems surfaced, and I couldn’t find the mentality clarity I needed. My garmin showed times that were faster than I’ve run in a long time, yet I was irritated. Running is now a constant reminder of my irritated and irritating hip.While waiting for my hip to heal, I’ve been missing the joy of running.

The real gift [of yoga] to me is that it puts me in a state of mind where I want to stop and look up at the beauty of the clouds or the light of the stars. When we do this, we are open to awe and wonder. We feel intimately that we are a part of something inconceivably huge and not apart from it. ~Eoin Finn

I’m stuck in this game of waiting. I’m waiting for my next chapter to reveal itself. I’m waiting for my mala beads to break. I’m waiting for my hip to heal. Why am I waiting? I don’t need a big life moment to indicate forward progression on my life path. I don’t need to check something off my bucket list or break my mala or have perfect health. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. I don’t need a new chapter. I just need to shift my focus.

My life at home is in a really comfortable, happy season. I need to breathe it all in. The intentions I have for how I live my life have expanded and become more polished since our family expanded. Holding on to old intentions will not allow me embrace the ones that are applicable to today. My hip is sore. I need to listen to it and be smart. It won’t be like this forever.

Waiting for the next chapter has me stuck in the in between. Instead of enjoying the awe and wonder of every day life, I’m waiting for something that may never happen. A slight shift of perspective is all I really need right now.

I’m not waiting. I’m living. I’m honoring the love I’ve created in my world every single day. I’m honoring these moments of in between by embracing the calm at home, inhaling and exhaling my intentions, and being patient with my body. Life isn’t about waiting. It’s about living every moment.

Quotes from Eoin Finn’s Happiness Map, Blissology Blog, and Elephant Journal.