Kristy Maute

A 13 Mile Treat

Week nine of marathon training was a fall back week – Only 13 miles were on my training plan. It was a treat. After 16 last weekend, my body was looking for a comfortable run. It wanted 13 easy miles. (and I’m still seriously baffled that I’m finally into the stretch of my training were 13 miles is only and easy).

The cherry on top of my 13 mile treat: I was joined on my run by a friend I haven’t seen in over a decade. We went to high school together, we worked together at the Gap (although we both forgot! ha!), and then we went our separate ways. She came home for the holidays and was more than willing to run 13 miles with me…

…in the POURING rain. In crazy wind. Through some crazy muddy trails. And along a beach that didn’t exist because it was high tide.

There really is only one word to describe the 13 miles. It was a treat. I haven’t had that much fun running in a long time. It was fabulous to catch up. Conversation flowed freely. It was great to have someone to run with who you connect with on so many levels. My one and only new year’s resolution is to openly share myself more (blog post coming soon). Over the course of the 13 miles, it was so nice to not shy away from conversation. It was so nice to feel comfortable sharing. Over the course of those 13 miles, a true deep friendship was formed. The decade of missed years disappeared.

Another added bonus to the run: she is a faster runner than me. Somehow she made running 9 minute miles (on the road) feel comfortable and easy.

And another bonus (did I mention this run was a treat?): the trails were beautiful. It was raining and gray and foggy. There were big mud puddles to splash through. I lead us through my favorite loop. As we headed down the sand dunes towards the isolated beach, we quickly learned it was high tide. There was no beach. We had to create our own path through trees and the small strip of sand. It felt like being a child and tossing all cares aside.

393062_10200241978280670_1719124046_n — Our turn around point – thank you Lauren for the photo

As we finished up our 13.5 mile run (because it was way to cold, wet, and windy to walk back to the car), we ran our last few miles along the boardwalk. We didn’t see a single person. That’s when I realized why that run and running in general mean so much to me.

Nothing matters except for enjoying the moment.

Yesterday’s run could have been a recipe for disaster: running with someone I haven’t seen in ages, horrible weather, flooded trails. Instead it will make it to my lists of favorite runs for a long time. All of those elements made me stay present. They insisted that I enjoy the moment as it was happening. Nothing else mattered. Not pace. Not the mileage on my garmin. Not the missed years of friendship. Not the rain. We just ran.

13.58 miles in 2:26:07

Thank you Lauren for an amazing run, and for the wonderful reminder to enjoy each moment.

The Gift of Giving

Somewhere in the hustle and the bustle of the season, I overlooked taking Cole out to do Christmas shopping of his own. Our Christmas budget was tight this year, so I was focused on stretching it as far as possible. Christian and I decided to skip gifts for each other (although we didn’t stick to the plan), and we tried to shop smart for the boys. I didn’t even think about having Cole do any shopping until he mentioned it.

This year I want to wrap everyone’s gifts from me by myself.

Uh oh. Cole didn’t have any gifts to give anyone this year. I back pedaled, replanned, and asked his grandma to take him shopping. They spent a Monday night having dinner and going all over town while Cole searched for his perfect gifts to give. He came home spilling over with excitement. He dragged me up stairs to tell me what he got Christian. He snuck into the living to tell Christian what he bought for me. All week long, he kept looking for validation that we would love our gifts. He asked questions that were obviously about what he picked out. The anticipation of giving was driving him nuts.

On our Christmas morning together (the Saturday before Christmas since he was flying to his dad’s house on Sunday), he woke up at 5:45am. He snuck down stairs. He peaked under the tree. As soon as Christian and I stumbled out of bed and into the living room, Cole insisted we open his gifts first. Before the stack of presents from Santa, Cole wanted us to open the gifts he picked out.

I went first. A new book that I adore. Love, Life & Elephants. And new slippers. He narrated the opening of the gifts by telling the story of how he picked them out. The slippers: my slippers have a hole in the bottom of them. The book: he knows I love to read. He knows I love nature. So he went to the nature section of the book store. He knows I adore Elephants. He found my perfect book. Although I love the sentiment behind the book the most, I really do love the book and really look forward to reading it.

Christian was next. A New York Giant’s lunch box and a yo-yo. The lunch box is for Christian since he packs his lunch every day, and together Cole and Christian cheer on the Giants. The yo-yo: Cole got a yo-yo from my parents for Christmas the weekend before. Little did we know that Christian is a yo-yo master. Christian quickly took over Cole’s yo-yo and showed off all his skills. Cole got him his own yo-yo so he could have his yo-yo back.

This is (and perhaps always will be) one of my favorite Christmas memories. In my desire to give and make Christmas special for my boys during a tough year, I forgot how magical they would feel if they could give too. I didn’t want Cole spending money on gifts for us because we don’t need anything. But what I missed was the pure excitement and happiness Cole felt by giving. I forgot that Christmas isn’t just about me giving them gifts, but it’s also about teaching them to love giving. I’m glad Cole didn’t let this holiday season slip by without insisting that he give too.

Lesson learned. Lesson absorbed. Thank you Cole for making our holiday magical.

A Half-Marathon plus a 5k

Do not search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing, live your way into the answers ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

One of my biggest fears going into marathon training was running solo. Tackling long double-digit runs on my own intimidated me. I searched for running groups. None seemed to fit. I tried to find a running partner. Again I couldn’t find a match. Even when I’ve found people to run with, my schedule hasn’t allowed me to commit to running a certain time each weekend. So I’ve been running solo. 15 miles last weekend. 16 miles this weekend.

I wondered how I’d do it. How would I keep myself going for hours when things hurt? I thought I’d get lonely. I thought I’d get sick of listening to the thoughts in my head. I thought I’d need motivation from an outside source when miles got tough. There is only one way to find out – run solo. After a lot of scheduling juggling this weekend and my mom coming to my rescue, I was able to find 3 hours of daylight to run on Sunday (Thank you mom. My only other option was running 16 miles in the dark Sunday night). I ran from my parents’ house. The new route was refreshing. I ran from their house, to the oceanfront, and around one of my favorite loops before heading back to their house.

One of my biggest goals this training cycle is to really listen to my body. I don’t want to set out to run at a certain pace. Instead I want to run by feel. Speed Work: Get Uncomfortable. Tempo Runs: Run Fast. Recovery Runs: Feel good. Long Runs: Get comfy. As I ran, my garmin let me know I was running miles in the 9s. On paper this is too fast for my long runs. Instead of slowing down, I listened to my body. It felt very comfortable. At mile 10, my pace creeped back into the 10s. I realized I could unofficially beat my half-marathon PR if I just kept going.

At mile 11, I desperately needed to take off an outer layer of clothes. Another goal (a sub goal of ignoring my garmin) is to quit hitting pause on my watch. Stuck at a red light. Use it to recover. Need to take off a layer of clothes: this could/will happen in a race. There is no pause button on a race clock. I want a real picture of my run with red lights and picture stops included in my time. Mile 11 was an 11 min/mile.

At this point my focus changed. Instead of running 16 miles, I wanted to run a PR half-marathon and then I’d add another 5k to my run. If I PR’d, I’d let myself old man shuffle the last 3 miles if I needed to.

13.1 miles. 2:10:25. 9:57 pace. (including red lights. including a photo stop. including taking off a layer of clothes.) A new PR by 3 minutes 3o seconds, and it was comfortable.

The last 3.1 miles of my run were tough. My hips ached. Although I feared running solo for long runs this time around, I am learning that I really only need myself to keep me going. Not once did walking cross my mind. Red lights drove me nuts because it hurt more to stop than it did to keep going. I know I did my share of shuffling. I tripped on an acorn. Yes. An acorn. But my pace didn’t fall too much (10:11, 10:22, 10:09). Running solo has allowed me to push when I want to push. It’s allowed me to define my own level of comfort (or not so comfortable). Although I really do love have a running companion, sometimes it is important to do it on your own. It’s important to learn to rely on just you.

16.34 miles. 2:44:05. 10:03 pace.

When the sun appears perfectly in the sky, you stop and enjoy the moment

When I hit stop on my watch, tears got stuck in my throat. Tears because I was so happy I was done. Tears because my legs and hips hurt. Tears because I couldn’t believe I just ran that fast. Tears because I’m one week closer to crossing the finish line of my first marathon.

Living the questions now so I can live my way into the answers.

My Training Plan is finally on my blog too. You can read it here.

Happy Holidays

From our family to yours –

I hope today you were surround by love and wonder. I hope you can find amazement in the all the small things. I hope, no matter what you celebrate, that you have a reason to believe. I hope that this holiday season inspires love, compassion and giving.

Happy Holidays.

Thank you Thomas Gorman Photography for the wonderful photos with Santa.

Rushing to Slow Down

It’s the holiday season. As much as joy and cheer define these few weeks, busy might be a better description. We’ve rushed to get the Christmas tree while trying to slow down and enjoy the process of picking it out. We rushed to hang the lights and the ornaments while trying to savor the time we made to decorate it as a family. This weekend started the holiday celebrations for our family. Cole will be with his dad in Nashville this year, so we are rushing to celebrate with him before he leaves but also doing our best to really grab hold of the holiday spirit.

This Saturday our agenda was full. Included on the list: a 15 mile run, a swim meet, cleaning, cooking, and celebrating Christmas with my Grandpa, parents, siblings and nieces. We were hosting the celebration at our house.

As the sun rose, I rushed out the door. I had planned on leaving before sun rise, but after a scary phone call from Cole’s school on Friday (a white van has been spotted in our neighborhood trying to give rides to middle school kids) I couldn’t make myself leave the house while it was dark. I wanted to feel safe even if it was a false sense of security. Leaving later meant I needed to hustle. Cole had a swim meet at noon. I rushed out the door and did my best to settle into my run.

15 miles. I broke the run up into three 5-milers. The first five miles felt sluggish. I could feel the pressure to finish my run so I could get home and really start the day. My feet hurt (I’m running in minimalist shoes. I think I need a pair with more support now that miles are getting longer). My knee ached (I blame the shoes). It felt weird to be running on a Saturday morning since all my most recent weekend runs have been rearranged based on family needs. I quietly ran and didn’t see one face for miles. The second set of five miles felt much more comfortable. I’d relaxed into my run. Cruise control had kicked in. My watched beeped for Mile 10 as soon as I hit a turn around point and was ready for the final stretch of just getting home. Mile 10 was the only mile where I felt like I was really struggling. At mile 11, I knew I’d pass my in-laws street. From there, I just wanted to get home and run strong.

15 miles on my neighborhood streets passed marshes, passed houses decorated for the holidays, and down sleepy street after sleepy street. The neighborhood was asleep yesterday. I saw only a handful of faces on my run. The sun, even though it was waking up the earth, never fully shined from behind the clouds. It was a quiet run. It was a peaceful run. And at some point during those 15 miles, it hit me. In a few months, I will run a marathon. When you run 15 miles by yourself before the world wakes up and without any music in your ear, there is a lot of time to think – or to not think. I often find myself processing thoughts or emotions only to realize I left the thought and emotion behind me at the last mile marker. I love the quiet. I love that no matter what is going on I always can find that peaceful place where there are no more thoughts to think.

15 miles. 2:38:27 (10:35 pace) …or 15.49 miles if you use my endomondo.

As soon as I got home, the rushing began again. Rushing to take an ice bath. Rushing to get cleaned up. Rushing to eat. Rushing to get to Cole’s swim. Slowing down to enjoy the swim meet. Rushing home to clean. Rushing to cook. Slowing down to enjoy our Larson family Christmas.

While I am still busy rushing to squeeze in the last bit of Christmas between now and next Saturday, I’m doing my best to create the peace that I find while I’m running. I can rush through the planning details, but I want to slow down through the process. I want to find the quiet while I share our Christmas morning with Cole and Chet. I want to find the peacefulness as we bake cookies. Perhaps this is why I crave long distance runs. Ten miles isn’t enough anymore. I want to use the first half of my run to think and the second half of my run to just be. And perhaps this is why the holidays always make me anxious. It’s too much “go” and too little “just be”. Stretching it out over a week has made it much more peaceful.

I’m hoping I can find the balance: Rushing now so I can slow down for what really matters. Rushing through what needs to get done so I can enjoy the important stuff.

At the end of the long fulfilling Saturday, Cole curled up on the couch next to me and read to me from one of his new books. Perfect ending to a perfect day.