A Day in Siena and San Gimignano

Last Saturday, we had our first class trip. We left Florence for the Tuscan countryside, stopping first in Siena. This town (city?) had been on my list for quite some time. In fact, just this summer I read two books that were centered here: a memoir, Too Much Tuscan Sun and a novel, The Italian Party. I was looking forward to seeing how the place matched the images in my mind.

In short, it went over and above what I had envisioned. The views were more magnificent, the Piazza del Campo much grander, the streets livelier.

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I wanted more time to wander (maybe I’ll pop back some day, since it’s only an hour or so by train). Still, we got a nice overview during our time, seeing the financial, political, religious, and social centers of town with a fantastic local guide. We happened upon a classic car show and tried a local treat, pasta with cinghiale (wild boar) sauce.

 

Another highlight was the Basilica of San Domenico, which houses some important 13th century Catholic relics, like St. Catherine’s thumb and head on full display (no photos allowed, but view them here if you must). Apparently, it was common to divvy up parts of important religious figures for political reasons and to boost tourism (the rest of St. Catherine is in Rome).

Here’s the outside of the church, which you might prefer to gaze on.

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There was also Siena’s Gothic cathedral, made even more impressive by the fact that its marble mosaic floors were uncovered, which only happens a few times a year (I have no great photos of these, but click the link above to see some).

 

 

After lunch and free time, we rode the bus another hour or so to San Gimignano, which I’ve heard called “Tuscany’s Manhattan” because of its defining feature: 14 tall stone towers (there were once over 70). We climbed the tallest one and got quite the view.

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San Gimignano is pretty tiny, so after spending some time in the tower, we wandered, bought a bottle of the local wine (vernaccia) had a coffee, and headed back to Florence.

The weather was fantastic, spirits were high, we learned a lot, and it was a great day to experience Tuscany!

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Back in Florence, this week’s highlight (for me) was going with the art history class to Santa Maria Novella for a lesson in frescos, which called up long-forgotten tidbits from my Catholic education. Getting to go on these art outings with an expert professor is another perk of the job!

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Ciao, Firenze!

We’re a week into JMU’s Semester in Florence program, and I am fortunate beyond belief to be the FMIR (faculty member in residence) to 28 students. My job involves living in the 16th century Palazzo Capponi with the students, teaching a class on positive psychology, holding office hours, running weekly meetings, being on call one weekend a month, and taking the students on excursions to places like Siena, Turin, Naples, and Pisa.

The faculty flat here is huge, with pretty much everything a person could need. Including white noise machines to block out the street sounds. It’s near the students, but also very private. They keep asking me if I can hear them in the wee hours. Nope!

I’ve established some comforting little rituals, like making stovetop coffee in the Bialetti and going to the little nearby grocery store pretty much everyday (food here doesn’t last as long as our preservative-laden stuff, and it’s hard to carry much on foot). Also, running in a beautiful, tourist-free park in the cool mornings, and sitting on the terrace each night with a book and some wine. Speaking of the terrace, it’s quite possibly my favorite thing about this apartment. It’s all mine, with a view of the nearby Piazza Santo Spirito, cool breezes, amazing sunsets, and mouth-watering smells wafting up a nearby steak restaurant. The only downside is that I haven’t been going out into the world as much as I normally would, since I have pretty much everything I need for happy leisure time up here.

The first week involved a lot of settling in, figuring things out, filling out forms, recovering from jet lag, and getting reacquainted with the city. There were lots of runs and walks, getting a bit lost from time to time, and taking one fantastic bike ride into the Tuscan countryside.

Food highlights include gnocchi with four cheese and truffle oil, fried anchovies with sage and lemon, a few top-notch pizzas, lemon ravioli, a balsamic vinegar tasting, and gelato galore. And we are just getting started!

Thankfully, there are a lot of lovely, long walks to be taken to counteract all of this delicious food!

Stay tuned for more updates on this three-month adventure in la dolce vita!

Study Abroad in Scandinavia – Week 2

[If you missed the Week 1 recap, find it here.]

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May 29

Week two began with a daytrip to the college town of Lund, in southern Sweden. This is a great place to escape the city, relax, check out the cathedral you see above, perhaps collect some data, and definitely eat some delicious cardamom buns.

One of my favorite things about Lund is a lovely botanical garden, where we had a class meeting and discussed the concept of flow. The garden’s colors weren’t as vivid as last year’s, probably due to a drought, but we still found some nice patches.

May 30

Today was our last full day in Copenhagen. We had a fairly long class, mostly on work-life integration and “busyness bragging”. Lunch was all about going to favorite places one last time: the organic hotdog cart, the bagel shop, that one ice cream/churro place, coffee coffee coffee. Dinner was a pre-ordered meal that was…hilarious.

img_0550Joe and I were staying in the Norrebro neighborhood, which was ground zero for the first night of Distortion, a massive music festival that is better described in photos. Just imagine this scene over a square-mile or two. And imagine us trying to wheel huge rental bikes through this. We were not popular.

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May 31

This was our day to travel to Stockholm, a five-hour train ride that left at 8:20 a.m. Despite a few snafus for Joe and me (a cab that didn’t show and my desperate plea to a stranger to please drive us to the station), it all went smoothly. This is always a great chance to catch up on sleep and reading.

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The students met with a DIS rep to take them to their housing, which is north of the city in a suburban area called Sollentuna (I remember this by picturing a mopey fish). Joe and I settled into our Gamla Stan (“Old Town”) Airbnb and immediately watched the previous night’s series finale of The Americans. Priorities.

June 1

Today started with a summertime must-do: a lunch cruise into the Stockholm archipelago, a chain of 30,000+ islands that stretches east from the city into the Baltic Sea. Many Swedes have summer houses and boats here (1 in 10 Swedes owns a boat) and it’s an important part of warm-weather recreation.

img_0649.jpgWeather is usually a primary concern for me on this study abroad, because so many of our activities are outdoors. But it’s barely mentioned here because we continue to be so ridiculously lucky!

 

After the cruise, we had a class meeting on the small island of Skeppsholmen. Topics were friluftsliv and the feeling of awe, both very appropriate for the day.

There was some Gamla Stan wandering, too. As a well-preserved medieval town, pretty much everything here is photo-worthy.

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We found the oldest statue in Stockholm, the “little boy who looks at the moon,” and rubbed his head for good luck.

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Without too much planned for after, we all ended up at our apartment for a very stimulating class discussion! img_0661(Okay, it was actually a show-and-tell of our wedding photos.)

June 2

Today was largely a free day for students to collect data and explore Stockholm. I had planned to run the marathon (read all about that here) and was so happy and surprised that a group of students chose to spend a few of their free hours watching and cheering.

 

In the evening, most of us went on the Stockholm Ghost Walk, a tour of Gamla Stan that gives us a dark lesson into the history of Stockholm: mass executions, brothels, doomed searches for buried treasure, and not one, not two, but three different types of the plague. And lots of restless spirits. Good fun.

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June 3

Yet another beautiful day to spend outside. We all took the streetcar to Skansen, the world’s oldest outdoor museum.

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img_0814It’s massive and has all kinds of exhibits about traditional Swedish life (imagine a Swedish Colonial Williamsburg), but the Nordic animals were the biggest hit.

 

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June 4

A big class day. The DIS facilities here are housed in the Royal College of Music. They practically require a retinal scan to access, but they’re quite nice when you do.img_0687.jpg

A bonus: the school’s metro stop, Stadion, features this:

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Stockholm’s metro is sometimes called the world’s longest art museum.

Anyway, we had a morning class meeting, a lunch break, and an afternoon guest lecture on Swedish politics from DIS professor Steve Turner, an American who’s been living in Sweden for 40 years. This was an intellectual high point of last year’s program, and was perhaps even more so this year, given the increasing frictions here and an important upcoming election.

img_0884It’s all too easy for us to leave here feeling like the Scandinavian countries are doing everything right while we are, umm, not. This lecture highlighted the complications of implementing the social welfare system and the moral conflicts woven into immigration policy. In short, it filled in some important gaps.

June 5

Our last day, already?

Today began with class. We first debriefed and discussed the previous day’s guest lecture, then everyone briefly presented their individual project findings. Our allotted two hours of classroom time flew by. We broke for lunch, packing time, and time to do all of those last things.

We met for a last group dinner at a Stockholm mainstay, Kvarnen. We finally got our fill of Swedish meatballs.

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After dinner, we searched in vain for a karaoke place. Finding none, we settled for some very non-Swedish street singing, an Irish pub, and a late-night subway ride with a fire extinguisher incident that I need to learn more about (everyone is fine).

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Last night, someone asked me to define the group in a single word. I couldn’t decide between three:

united – this group of 13 was often all together, and when they weren’t, I could never identify any cliques or anyone who wasn’t a part of things. Everyone seemed to genuinely like each other and look out for one another. I saw a ton of compromise, empathy, and good humor, even in stressful situations.

zany – I never worried about them being bored. They could create fun wherever they went, whether by killing a half hour by making their own beatbox band (complete with a few singles, an album cover, and a t-shirt design), cheering like mad at a marathon (generally not thought of as a great spectator sport), laughing their heads off at a catastrophically bad meal, and certainly many shenanigans I never heard about.  It was so much fun to be a part of this crazy crew. They reminded me to worry less and to laugh a lot more.

resourceful – they quickly demonstrated that they could figure things out on their own. They seldom needed me to point out directions or to suggest where to go. Multiple times, I realized that my suggestions were pretty lame compared to the things they’d find. They were also really good at getting things for free, like this:

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June 6

My last day here. The students seem to have taken the sunshine with them, literally and figuratively. It’s Swedish National Day (think a toned down version of the 4th of July in the U.S.). Many things are closed, my energy is sapped, and it’s suddenly 50 degrees and cloudy. In other words, it’s a good day to blog, pack, and eat one last cardamom bun.

Until next year, Scandinavia!

Stockholm Marathon 2018 Recap

img_0675 Yesterday was my 10th marathon and my first time ever repeating one. Stockholm seemed like a good choice for a PR attempt, since it’s flat, has low humidity, and is generally cool.

But we’ve been blessed/cursed with record-breaking warmth during this trip, weather that is ideal for pretty much anything…except this.

Although I carbed up like a champ (cardamom buns!!!), I otherwise couldn’t muster too much excitement for this race. After all, I’d run it once before, I was distracted (in the best way) by study abroad, and I knew the heat wasn’t going to lead to any personal records. To make matters worse, the race started at noon, only the hottest part of the day.

It’s hard to do a marathon when you’re not feeling it.

So, why was I doing it? Because I’d paid the entry fee? (Sunk-cost fallacy, but kind of.) Because I told people I was doing it? (Sheepish yes.) Because I didn’t want my training to be for nothing? (Naw. Extra snacks ain’t nothing!) Because I wanted the finisher shirt and medal? (Absolutely.)

For whatever reason, there I was at the start, with 18,000 or so other fools/hardy souls.

img_0725We started outside the 1912 Olympic Stadium in the open sun. I was stuck in a tight pack for awhile, which I hate. Each mile or so, there’d be an aggressive rush to the sprinklers and the water stations as we all attempted to cool down. Shade was a commodity everyone was fighting for. And this course was not the pancake I remember. Two new hills had been added, I swear.

I quickly saw my average pace fall way below goal time and my motivation fell along with it. Everything was annoying me: the people getting between me and the sponge-wetting stations, the restaurants that smelled like fried food, the spectators smoking, the booming speakers that were keeping me from hearing my own music…you name it.

Even when I could hear it, my faithful marathon playlist did nothing for me. The Schuyler sisters tried to remind me of how lucky I was to be alive right now. Michael Jackson called me a pretty young thing. The bearded lady from The Greatest Showman told me that I was glorious. Sara Bareilles really wanted to see me be brave. Nope.

But I did get through this slogfest, in a respectable-for-the-weather 3:48. How come? Because at the one-hour and two-hour marks I saw Joe (wearing the landmark: a SF Giants Dr. Seuss hat) and a big group of students cheering like their lives depended on it, in very non-Swedish fashion. Jantelagen be damned, they were loud. And they had signs. It was THE BEST.

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img_0825Then, when I thought they were done (because who wants to spend all afternoon watching a marathon?) they surprised me at the finish line, which ends with a half-lap around the stadium track.

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img_0722Did I mention that this was the best? Marathons often deliver the full range of intense emotions, but I don’t remember going from angry and alone to joyful and supported in such a short time. It makes the fact that this was not my personal best day seem very incidental.

And, whether I have them to blame or to thank, I know that this will be me. Just maybe not for a little while.

 

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Study Abroad in Scandinavia: Week 1

We are a week into JMU’s Exploring the Good Life in Scandinavia and have been centered in wonderful, summery Copenhagen all week.

Day 1

For the first time, we’re working with the Danish Institute for Study Abroad for housing, activities, classroom space, etc. The day started with a huge group meeting for all DIS participants at the building that used to house Copenhagen’s circus (?!) and is now a too-fancy-for-us concert venue.

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We toured our classroom and facilities, which are perfectly located right on the main shopping street (the Stroget).

We had a great guest lecture from a DIS professor and learned many things. The most striking may have been to toughen the kids up young. Here they have forest kindergartens (“learn to be cold and uncomfortable, learn to climb trees and use knives”), and fairy tales with non-Disneyfied endings.

Afterwards, we wandered over to Kongens Have (the King’s Garden at Rosenborg Palace), and to Nyhavn for the requisite group photo. Today had a lot of classroom time but was also a good orientation to the city.

 

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Day 2

Our 10 a.m. class started with a hop over to Sct. Peders Bageri for what some say are the best cinnamon buns (a.k.a., cinnamon snails) in the city, available only on Wednesdays.

This provided an easy segue into the day’s topic: savoring. When are we most present and grateful in a given moment? When is this easy and natural and when is it difficult? How can we be better at this, both in everyday life and in our travels? (Naturally, this leads into a discussion of technology, photography, and social media and whether this stuff helps or hurts our savoring ability.)

To bring mindfulness to life, Joe led us through the raisin meditation. For the first time ever, we had an entire room of raisin lovers, with no one grumbling and wondering why we couldn’t be doing this with chocolate instead.

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The afternoon took us to Christiania, Copenhagen’s second most popular tourist destination. Reactions to Christiania are pretty extreme. Some see it as dodgy and dirty, others find it idyllic and don’t want to leave. Whatever the reaction, it’s undoubtedly fascinating as an alternate way of living and as a social experiment with an uncertain future.

This was the first time I’d done a guided tour (given by a 40-year Christiania resident) and it was much better than simply wandering around aimlessly. In addition to being informative, she was as quirky and surprising as the place itself.

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The students wanted to stick around for dinner so we parted ways. My love of a great view won out over my fear of heights, so I climbed the exposed spiral tower of the Church of Our Savior. The 360 view was breathtaking and I had the place all to myself, but note the death grip…

 

Day 3

We put our mindful eating and savoring lessons to good work today on the Copenhagen Food Tour, which takes place in and around the wonderful Torvehallerne food hall. This is one of my absolute favorite outings. It hits so many marks: savoring, yes, but also New Nordic cuisine, local food, and sustainability. We also get a touch of history and subtle lessons in the culture. Our guide, Maria, is an expert and a hoot.

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We took class outside afterwards, to the nearby botanical gardens.

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Did I mention that the weather here is absolutely perfect? We’ve been extremely lucky so far! Part of me feels like we’re missing something key about Scandinavian psychology by skipping out on the cold and grey. A much bigger part of me is thrilled to be spared.

Day 4

Today’s class topic was cycling. Copenhagen is the most advanced, forward-thinking bike-friendly city in the world. Could this contribute to a high degree of happiness? And, if so, why? Is this something we can bring back with us, or does it require a certain infrastructure, climate, and topography that we just don’t have? Is driving in the U.S. just too convenient and cheap to make bikes appealing? This one is hard to place on the “can we bring it back or not?” continuum.

We didn’t have anything scheduled for the afternoon, but it was another perfect weather day. Half of us headed on the train north to the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, while others rented a boat and cruised around Copenhagen’s harbors.

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We all met up for a night at Tivoli Gardens (btw, if Christiania is the second-most visited place in CPH, Tivoli is the first). It features gardens, yes, but also rides, food, fireworks, performances, etc. etc. etc.

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Day 5

The weather was iffy for the first time, so we postponed our trip to Lund and made it a free day. Joe and I explored our local neighborhood, Norrebro, while the students had more far-flung adventures. Some took a long (!!) walk to the Carlsberg Brewery, and a few others biked out to the outskirts of the city to look for the six hidden giants. So much for the strong advice that a car is needed for these expeditions!

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That brings me to this fact: I am so thrilled, impressed, and inspired by this group’s level of adventurousness. They set out on daunting journeys like these enthusiastically but with common sense. They’re brave; they’re not afraid to get lost in a foreign city, to drive a motorboat, to follow a Danish train schedule, or to learn to ride a bike in the busiest biking city in the world (which is kinda like learning to drive on the D.C. Beltway at rush hour). AND they also manage to be prompt, prepared for class, and respectful of one another. I couldn’t ask for more.

Day 6

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Today was our bike trip to the seaside town of Dragor, 11 miles south of Copenhagen. The weather had been looking dicey but fortunately cleared up enough for us to head out.

We started out in the heart of CPH and, well, a 17-person group of shaky cyclists in a busy city is quite the project. Eventually, we left the crowded urban bike lanes and hit more relaxed Amager, the Baltic Sea, Kastrup, the airport, and – finally – adorable Dragor. We had some ice cream, some walk-around time, and then it was time to head back.

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This was probably a bit more than we bargained for – some windy spots, a few intense moments of traffic, a couple bike snafus – but we did it. 22 miles!

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Day 7

Our first semi-gross weather day (a.k.a., the typical study abroad weather). I was glad: morning rain made it a perfect movie day. We had a long class that included a new documentary, Finding Hygge. We discussed this idea of…what, exactly? Coziness, relaxation, comfort, easy conversation, lack of stress…

Hygge is a concept that is so woven into the Danish psyche that it’s difficult for them (and us) to define and discuss. And yet it’s held up as a key component of happiness here, so it’s well worth considering. What we concluded is that hygge is not showy, not materialistic, and not stressful. It requires time, intention, and cannot be forced. It has a potential dark side that we have to be on the watch for. And – with practice – it’s perhaps something we can take home with us (unlike, say, socialized medicine, state-funded college, or five weeks of paid vacation per year). And it would make a great name for my future dog, but that’s another story.

Students also shared their favorite moments via photos and I was – again – so happy to hear about their adventures, but also to hear how much they genuinely like one another, are willing to compromise, and have these hilarious moments together.

It was a very good day, although not a particularly photogenic one. But here’s my 4 a.m. sunrise photo and my ice cream.

For the evening, students broke into small groups and had dinners with Danish families around Copenhagen – which I can’t wait to hear about – while Joe and I had an unforgettable meal at Kiin Kiin.

And another week of adventures awaits!

 

 

That time I ran with the Crown Prince of Denmark

Well, myself and 35,000 others.

Tonight’s 10K race was part of a week-long celebration of the Crown Prince’s 50th birthday. From what I can gather, Frederik likes to run and celebrate fitness, so he decided to celebrate with runs in Denmark’s five largest cities. The events are organized so that everyone can participate regardless of age or fitness level, with the goal of getting people out and moving. Walk a mile, run a 10K. Do both. Bring the kids. The point is to get out there. As he declared a year ago, “When I turn 50 years old, I will celebrate the day with a race where all of Denmark can join…A run must be a race aimed at the experience runners, but equally to those who tie their running shoes for the first time and everyone is welcome regardless of age.”

Yet another reason to love Denmark.

By chance, a few days ago I saw the Copenhagen version of the event pop up on Facebook. True to form, I signed up without a lot of forethought. But I quickly came to see that it was kind of a big deal. Like, a 35,000-person, shut-down-the-roads kind of big deal (read more here). And it was at 7 p.m. Because the earlier part of the day was taken up with OTHER royal running events (kids’ run, mile run, awards, pageantry, etc.). But why would I expect less? It was the prince.

Look, here we are:

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I’ve done over 100 races and I can say with confidence that this was one of the most memorable. There was the sheer size of it: as of a few days ago, an estimated 35,000 runners were registered (but it was probably more, as you could sign up last-minute). There was also the hoopla: huge monitors were set up to show highlights of the event as we stood in the starting corrals. Helicopters flew overheard getting footage. It was broadcast on TV. I saw the Crown Prince (for maybe half a second) as he made he way to the start, surrounded by cameramen and bodyguards, and it might as well have been Beyonce. (Apparently the Queen was out there somewhere too, but I missed that. Someone told me this in the elevator to my Airbnb. Because it was apparently A Big Deal). Once the race started, the streets were lined with fans, maybe ten deep the entire way, waving Danish flags, wearing royal costumes, and cheering. Walking home afterwards, I stood at a stoplight with some runners and fans, and one person called this a “once in a lifetime event.”

 

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It was so unique; part of me wanted to take pictures during the race. But a much bigger part of me wanted to crush it.

And I kinda did crush it – my first race with a sub-7:00 minute average, and a big 10K PR of 43:08-ish. The course was flat with few turns, there was no humidity, and the Vaporfly 4% is truly a magical shoe. This either bodes well for the Stockholm Marathon in two weeks or I just blew it. Anyway.

It was a nice change to feel like a part of something here in Copenhagen. Sure, I don’t really know much — ok, anything — about the Danish royal family. I couldn’t understand a single thing that was being broadcast in Danish over the loudspeakers before or after the race. But, like everyone else out there, I get the pull of running through city streets on a beautiful spring evening. I felt genuine excitement and cheered along with everyone else when the prince walked by. Walking home with my medal, people said what I took to be “congratulations” in Danish and I gave them a “tak” in return. It’s nice to not feel like a tourist for a minute.

Did I mention that I love Denmark?

The fastest way to feel like a local in Copenhagen

[I’m vowing to blog more.]

We arrived for the fourth year of Exploring the Good Life in Scandinavia yesterday at 7:30 a.m. Thanks to a stellar movie selection and a fussy seatmate, I got about two hours of terrible sleep on the flight. Unfortunately, we had a lot of morning and afternoon to kill before we could crash out.

After a massive Espresso House coffee, I did my favorite Copenhagen thing and got a bike from a bike share stand. These things have little motors, so you can ride them even when you’re completely drained of energy. It’s super-easy to set up an account, and there are drop-offs all over the city. To call Copenhagen a bike-friendly city is a massive understatement, and–if you’re comfortable on two wheels–riding around here feels safe and natural. I never feel more at home in Copenhagen than when I’m on a bike.

I started from Central Station and pedaled around with no real plan. If I felt lost or confused, I’d just follow someone for awhile. I ended up riding 11 miles before dropping the bike off and going to a meeting, more refreshed than I could have imagined a couple hours before.

Some of the sights were old favorites:

And some new treats too, like this adorable block-long street that I may never find again.

And this.

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Boston Marathon Recap

This started as a travel blog. But it’s accidentally become more of a running blog. And a sporadic one at that.img_9251

I’ve gotten into the habit of writing recaps of my major races. Yet with spring on the horizon and finals week approaching, I’ve been putting this one off. Plus, what can I say that hasn’t already been said much better here, here, here, and so many other places? Plus: pressure. This was The One. I’ve been chasing the unicorn, quasi-literally and figuratively, for so long. I should be able to muster up something articulate! Thoughtful! Reflective! Instead, I feel monosyllabic, much like I was during the race itself:. UGH! BLAH! SHIIIIT!

But, to keep up with this mini-tradition, I’ll do my best to lend something to the conversation.

With less than a week between myself and this race, I must admit that, despite all of the ughs and blahs, my first Boston was pretty freakin’ great. Yes, I know it was maybe the worst weather in the race’s 122-year history. I know about the hypothermia and the crowded medical tents and the relatively slow finishing times. I was there. I have my own experiences of stinging rain, crippling headwind, waterlogged shoes, and nonfunctional fingers at the ready. This thing sucked. It was hard. Ridiculously, unforgettably, and indescribably hard.

To prove my point, check out a few images of the Athletes’ Village in Hopkinton, before the race even started.

 

But if I wanted easy, I’d stay home or take a beach weekend. The marathon is hard. We do it for that very reason. For the challenge, for the stories. To experience the new and the singular. To feel alive and vibrant. To redefine what is possible. To brag. To be a badass.

Given all of that, on every single front, Boston 2018 delivered. Challenge and badassery galore. An experience like no other. Stories for decades, with grim photos to back them up (see above, and below, and any other blog or webpage chronicling this day). As for feeling alive…does it get any better than pushing through the wind, dodging puddles, rain stinging your face, music blaring, without a care in the world for what exists outside of this tunnel of cold, wet misery?

 

Alive does not necessarily mean happy. But there were even some weirdly happy moments during this thing. Wearing a wacky but really toasty outfit of running clothes under massive Goodwill throwaway sweats under a Tyvek suit under a plastic poncho to the start was hilarious! And losing my “real” running hat – all technical and sleek – and having to wear the Pippi Longstocking monstrosity I got at the Goodwill as a throw-away? Funny stuff! (This hat was actually awesomely toasty and kept my headphones secure. Love you, Pippi-hat!) Looking at – but thankfully passing by – the Athletes’ Village, with its ankle-deep mud and hundreds of pairs of discarded shoes? Also a riot. Later, during the race, the Wellesley tunnel – thinned out as it was – provided a massive boost. And I had to laugh when a surprise crosswind swept through, so swiftly that my anklebones bumped into each other and drew some blood. The absurdity of this! WTF!?

Yep. I got my money’s worth. And that’s saying a lot. Did I mention that, in addition to everything else, I had to go buy a new Lululemon outfit because of the shifting forecast and my poor packing? (I was not alone.) Add another $250 to the tab. Still – worth it!

And my performance? Given the downhill nature of the first half, I was not too surprised to be going at PR-pace (sub 3:30), albeit smartly. But the weather just got worse, my spirits got lower, and the hills appeared, as I knew they would. I dropped back and did what may be the hardest thing of all – let go of my PR hope (which was never really part of the plan anyway) and tried to be compassionate to myself in the process.

While this was not a glorious race or triumphant finish, I ran my third fastest marathon – a 3:39:46 – and beat my bib by a cool 6,008 spots. And I still have all my fingers and my toes and a love of running. Win!

 

So, let’s have a redo next year, Boston. And while I like an edifying experience every now and then, I also heard that I missed out on some serious cheering and crowd love thanks to these elements. Mother Nature, you can be a little less dramatic next time, mmmk?

Onward! Five little weeks until the beautiful, PR-friendly Stockholm Marathon. #gluttonforpunishment

Chicago Marathon Recap

On October 8th I ran my 8th marathon through the crowded, lively streets of Chicago. This was, by far, the largest marathon I’ve ever run (in fact, it’s the second largest in the world, and the fact that they pull it off so smoothly is pretty incredible). I trained all summer, using the FIRST program, to break 3:30 (A goal), or to break 3:36:55 (a PR; the B goal), OR to qualify for Boston ’19 (sub…3:40? Who knows!; C goal), or to finish without being broken – physically, emotionally, or spiritually (D goal). It’s good to have goals.

I missed my A goal by an almost laughable three seconds, running a 3:30:02. The rational part of me is thrilled by an almost 7 minute PR and a nearly 15 minute BQ on a hot day. The rational part of me is amazed to be setting big PRs at 39, and grateful to have emerged uninjured and eager to keep running. But that emotional part of me is plagued by all those things I could have done to get those three seconds back. If only I’d taken a turn tighter, pushed harder, left my iPod alone, skipped the deep dish pizza on Friday night, walked less the day before, eaten one more gel, eaten one less gel, lost a few ounces. You name it. I didn’t collapse at the finish, so I surely had something left! Ok, stop. Stop!! It’s a win.

The Chicago Marathon is famous for being flat and fast – a world record course if the weather is kind. But that’s a big if. For us, the weather was…ok. The humidity was on the lower side to us Virginians, after training through the sticky summer months. But after about mile 18, the sun was definitely a challenge. And the crowds! I called this race “the introvert’s nightmare” only partially in jest. If you’re someone who thrives on cheering and cowbells and funny signs, it’s your jam. But if you, say, want to listen to an audiobook, forget it. Too loud. If you want to listen to your own thoughts, even, you may have a hard time. I’m still figuring out the kind of races I like best, but I suspect that this was a little too overstimulating for me. It was a great experience and I’m glad to have done it, especially with good friends. But I also like to run my pace, feel in control of my thoughts and of my body, and be able to access a toilet at the start.

Even though I’m still figuring it out, I love any opportunity to talk about running, so I’d agreed to give a guest lecture to the JMU marathon class the Wednesday after the race (this is a class that trains students to run their first marathon in a semester – so cool, and very unusual!).

Knowing this was going to happen, I’d been taking mental notes throughout the training cycle and during the race itself. There’s nothing revolutionary here, but my tips for them included:

  • Work your core. Planks, bridges, etc.
  • Mimic race day as much as you can – clothing, fueling, terrain, waking up early. Mimic race day as much as you can. Study the race website and learn all that you can about the event.
  • Plan to be cold at the start (or to discard old clothes at the start). If you’re comfortable before the race, you’ll be too warm during it!
  • Fight the urge to go out too fast. You can’t bank time.
  • You can’t cram for the marathon. It’s not an exam. Training must be spaced out over many weeks or even months.
  • The wall is real. You will have dark moments in those later miles, you’ll want to quit, or maybe to die, and you will learn about yourself as you fight through this.
  • You’ll feel the full range of emotions. You can go from feeling strong and triumphant to defeated and miserable in a matter of minutes. [At this point in the lecture, I started to wonder why I loved something that sounded so dreadful.]
  • You will redefine what you think is hard and what you’re capable of.
  • You might become a lifelong runner, or you might cross this off your bucket list and never want to do anything like it ever again. Don’t feel like you need to decide right away.
  • Afterwards, walk around, stretch, roll. Fight the urge to be catatonic. You will thank yourself later.
  • [I didn’t tell them this but I thought about it.] The marathon is like the worst boyfriend ever. You put so much thought into your outfit for it. You try to lose weight for it. You bring your A game. It exhausts you. It calls the shots. It’s unpredictable: one minute, it’s making you feel strong and beautiful, the next it’s breaking you down, leaving you powerless and pained. And yet you may keep coming back for more, and very few people understand why. But hopefully your time with it will ultimately make you stronger.

What’s next for me? My least favorite part: recovery. Then:

  • The CAT Trail Half, October 28th. Practically in my own backyard, yet very much outside of my comfort zone. I suspect I’d like trail running, if I can keep my competitiveness and Garmin-obsession at bay.
  • The Richmond 8K, November 11th. Also running the last few miles of the marathon with a friend who’s gunning for a BQ.
  • The Rehoboth Beach Half-Marathon, December 2nd. Driving some of the JMU marathon kids up there for their big event, and shooting for my first sub 1:40 half.
  • Some other stuff, probably ill-advised.
  • The biggie, the unicorn, the life goal: my first Boston Marathon, April 16th. What a way to celebrate turning 40.

“What has this trip taught you about yourself, as a person or as a traveler?”

I recently posed this question to my class of 13 JMU students as we neared the end of our 18 day, short-term study abroad class in Sweden and Denmark. Eighteen days may not look like much time on the calendar, but it’s jam-packed with novel and challenging experiences: sleeping four to a room, learning public transportation in a foreign city, coping with jet lag, living out of a suitcase, trying new foods, considering new ideas, and being very, very far from home. Plus, several of the students had never traveled internationally before, and most had never done so on their own.

So, if they were to stop and reflect, important insights were right there for the taking.

Here are some of my favorite responses to this question:

“I’ve learned that I love the challenge of getting to know a new place without the help of maps or cell service. It forces you to talk to locals to get help and to get lost in order to find new sights/attractions.”

“I’m much more adventurous than I thought I was. I realized I’m very open to new experiences.”

“I love to travel by local transportation rather than renting a car because it immerses you in the life of the local people of the country you’re visiting. It’s a way to see the people, but also see the sights without the worry of driving a car.”

“The more I try to hold onto a special moment, the less present I am. It’s okay to enjoy something and then let it go.”

“Exploring and wandering can be the most fun.”

“I need alone time to recharge. And I miss leisure reading–I need to make more time for it at home.”

“I actually really enjoy alone time to frolic and discover new places on my own.”

“I’m much more capable than I give myself credit for! I’m capable of taking care of myself, getting around, making friends with strangers, and dealing with all of the problems that can come up while traveling.”

“I like to spend my days in smaller groups, and I appreciate moving at a more slow, local pace, not rushing off to see all the tourist destinations.”

“After traveling to a different country for the first time, I realize that I like familiarity. There’s a lot to see in the world, but that also includes things at home, and I’m going to take advantage of it!”

“I have so much left to learn. I looked at this trip as a pinnacle and a finish line, but now I know it was just the beginning. There is a world outside to explore and it’ll take time to do it. Now I know that there’s a world to discover inside of me, too. This whole life of ours is a trip, a journey, and I cannot wait to see where mine goes.”

Travel can always teach us something — about the broader world around us, but also about ourselves. Thanks for the memories, you guys…and for the lessons you always manage to teach me.

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Did I mention that we lived for a week in a castle?