International Women's Day

This morning after opening my Facebook feed, I quickly learned today is International Women’s Day. How cool, I thought, we get a whole freaking day!

Unimpressed.

Anyway, during my commute, I got to thinking about this whole international women’s day thing, and I decided to jot down some of my thoughts about an aspect of womanhood that has been causing me anxiety lately: motherhood. Specifically, the guilt that comes along with it.

Lately, I often find myself feeling guilty. I have been concerned that I’m spending too much on my own self-care. I think to myself, should cut back and work out less, spend less time on my hobbies in order to focus more on my kids’ needs?

It is true that lately all the things on my plate have become a little overwhelming. Not only am I training for Boston, but I’m rehabbing a significant injury while trying to do it. In addition to my workouts which take at least an hour every day, I’m also now having to fit weekly appointments with a physical therapist, acupuncturist, and chiropractor into my schedule. Plus all the stretches, exercises, icing, and Epsom salt baths at home ordered by those providers. Actually, I can’t believe how much has been required to get my leg back to its working form. Although I was told that a torn quadriceps muscle would require a few weeks off and then I’d be back at it, I ended up having to take six weeks off of running. I cannot overemphasize the mental and emotional strain this has put on me. I am very grateful for my ability to swim laps instead of running, but with the marathon looming closer and closer, my inability to run has caused some serious emotional strain, which has also strained my relationships. I have invested a great deal of time, money, and emotional energy in this race. I have family coming into Boston specifically to see me in the race, and I don’t want to let them down if I can’t perform as well as I’d like. I also don’t want to let down the nearly 150 donors who have so far contributed to my charity.

So it’s been tough. On top of my running woes, I have an autistic son. And my daughter, Lizzy, is now going through a rough patch behaviorally at school and home. I find myself feeling guilty; and although I know many moms feel the same, I believe most fathers do not have this reaction to parenting difficulties. Yes, I’m sure men think, Wow, I’m working full time, try to spend time with my friends, I work out a lot, and it is really hard to keep up with everything. But they do not think to themselves: that is precisely why my kids are struggling. But for me, when I think about my kids’ problems, my natural answer is that it is all my fault. And that I need to give up something more than I already have about myself so my kids will be ok. I blame myself. For all of it. I feel like my daughter is being badly behaved because of me. My house is a mess because of me. Lizzy isn’t sleeping well at night because of me. Sully got strep throat this week because of me. As I was writing this blog, my husband informed me that Sully was deeply upset that we didn’t send him to school with money for the book fair. I didn’t know there was a book fair. I can’t keep up with all the notices and emails coming from the schools about all the events. I don’t think, my husband should have known there was a bookfair. I think, I am the mom. It is MY job to know these things and I have failed.

And yes, deep down I worry Sully is autistic because of me. Was there something I did when I was pregnant to make him develop this? I can’t help but feel, in my dark moments, that every study about ASD seems to involve what the moms did while pregnant. People have asked me if I had drank while pregnant with him, if I took prenatal vitamins, if I had the flu, if I got immunizations. How could I not feel like it’s my fault? No one has ever asked Kevin what he did while I was pregnant with Sully. Nobody cares that he was out partying with his friends, having a grand ‘ole time. Nope. And that is why he doesn’t worry it’s his fault. But I sometimes do.

I have a high stress, full time job with a three-hour commute. I am a wife, a mother, a homeowner, a dog owner, I’m training for the Boston Marathon, and I’m raising money for charity. It’s a lot. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is my partner and pulls his fair share. He does a lot with the kids and around the house. But my point is that society does not put the same pressures, assumptions, and unconscious bias on him. Therefore, he does not add to his plate the stress, anxiety, and guilt that I carry with me always. Because he is a man, he will never have this added, major strain that comes along with parenthood for women.

Over the last few weeks, I have found myself asking, should I give up what I love, the things that fulfill me, so that I can be a better mom?

And the answer I always come up with is no, I just can’t do that.

I think to myself, if you give up your physical fitness, then what kind of an example does that set for your children? I don’t want my kids to think that they are the king and queen of the household, and that my primary purpose in life is to serve them. Plus, I want them to think of me as more than just

Me and Misty Copeland twinning - this was taken right
after I tore my quad on a 13 mile training run. I didn't
know then exactly what had happened, but I knew
something was very wrong.

“mom.” I am a whole person, and I want them to know that person. I want them to be proud of me and I want them to see me striving for my own well being and personal goals. I think that maybe they’ll want to do the same in the future. I also know that one of these days, my kids will be gone and I need to have hobbies and interests to feel fulfilled at that point.

Both of these points are true. I don’t want to give up my hobbies and well being because I want to be a good example for my kids. I also want to still have myself and my hobbies after my kids are grown. But my gut reaction to name these reasons first begs another question. What is so wrong with me wanting to do things I enjoy simply because I like them? Why can I do these things, not for my kids, but for no one other than me?

As women, even when making justifications for taking care of ourselves, we typically cite our children as our number one reason for self-care. Why not choose to take care of ourselves for selfish reasons? I want to run because I fucking like it. I want to take care of myself because dammit, I am worth taking care of. I want to push myself to run ultras because I never thought I could do them before and I like the way that feels. I like accomplishing things at 35 I couldn’t do at 25. You know what I want to do after Boston? I want to run further than I ever have before – I’ve set my sights on a 40 mile trail race in summer 2019. And after that, I’m going to dip my toes in the open water for my first triathlon. And I’m going to do it for a lot of reasons – for my kids, for my husband, but most of all, for me.

So happy international women’s day. Being a woman shouldn’t have to mean you’re also a mother. Being a mother shouldn’t have to mean that is the only thing you are. I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister, an employee, a runner, a swimmer, a singer, a knitter, a reader, a crafter, a cake decorator, and so much more than that. I am a woman. I am me, and I won’t apologize for it.

Injury of the heart and body

I feel like most blogs start this way: I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written.

My instinct is to say that the reason I've been silent so long is because I’ve been so busy. Which is true. I have been really busy. But I know that the real reason I haven’t written is because it hurts too much to talk about running right now.

I’m injured. I tore my left quad. I haven’t run in 3.5 weeks. And I’ve been pushing off writing about running. I think that one of the reasons this has been so hard on me is because I feel like it’s my fault. I ran a 50K, and it was awesome. What a great experience. Talk about the best race I’ve ever run! I had so much fun, and in all honesty if I had it to do over, I’m not sure I would take back that race.

I felt really pretty great afterwards. Sore but not bad. I didn’t run for a week after, just swam. Then one week after, I headed out into Boston for a 13 mile training run on the course. Again, I felt great. Fine. Then, at mile 11 my quad tore. I wouldn’t take back the 50K if I could, but I would take back that 13 mile training run.

I have a great PT, and a great chiropractor. A supportive husband and great friends. My fundraising is going great and I’ve met my goal of $10,000. Everyone assures me that I should be back running very soon. But the last 3.5 weeks have been some of the longest of my life. I know this may sound over-dramatic to some people. The truth is that running is my therapy. Since becoming a mother, I have struggled with anxiety and depression, and running has been a big part of my recovery from that. Not to mention the fact that the Boston Marathon is creeping closer and closer, and I have worked so hard for this race. Just to get IN the damned thing seems nearly impossible. To get on a team, raise money, train my body, everything. I want so badly to feel better. To get back out there. I see other people running as I'm drive by, and it hurts everything about myself.

So many people ask me how I do it all - running on top of motherhood, my marriage, my job, my house, my hobbies, my other sports. The answer is that running makes it possible for me to do it all. And now, I feel like a very real, tangible part of myself is gone. 

So I try to focus on the positive, try to remain thankful for what I have. In the scheme of things, the injury is minor, and I should recover fully. I’m incredibly thankful that six months ago I invested in my training and started taking swimming lessons. For the last four weeks I’ve been swimming a mile almost every day, and I’ve been told this will keep my VO2 max up, allowing me to get back into running quickly. If I hadn't improved my swimming, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. I am really enjoying the swimming, and considering venturing in the world of triathlons (but more on that later).

But I still worry that it won’t be enough time for Boston.

I do plan to write about my experience in PT, to write more about the 50K race, and I hope to someday write inspiring things about my imminent comeback. But right now, I just have to put this out there – I am injured. My body is broken. I am trying to fix it, but I am a work in progress. Just like everyone else I suppose.

Worst.Race.Ever.

Hey hey hey! Sorry that it’s been so long! December has been truly crazy for me and my family. My Christmas Cookie fundraising campaign was apparently a great idea, because I ended up making 20 dozen cookies, and made $800 for the Doug Flutie Foundation for Autism! I’ve now raised over $6500! Just $3500 away from my fundraising goal of $10K. Whoop whoop! I’ve been overwhelmed by everyone’s support for my cause. I can’t wait to see what the next 3.5 months hold!

The cookies - yes I made 20 dozen of these...

Oh, 3.5 months…only 3.5 months until the Boston Marathon! So far, the training side of things has also been going well. I’m feeling healthy and strong, and thanks to my cross training and track workouts, I’m running faster and longer every week!

In other news, my vegetarian diet is also going well, and I survived the holiday season sans wine and seasonal cocktails. Only three days until the GAC Fat Ass 50K! Getting to Saturday’s race on a vegetarian diet and sans alcohol, for the last six weeks, was my goal. But you know what? I like the vegetarian diet so much, I’m not planning on stopping. I’m going to run the Boston Marathon fueled by plant power! But, I WILL be drinking wine at dinner with the hubs Saturday night after the race. I mean, let’s be serious, I can only do so much.

In preparing for the 50K race, I decided to kick off a runathon. I’ve been asking friends, family, and you know, perfect strangers, to pledge a dollar amount per mile I can run on Saturday. This race is perfectly suited for such shenanigans, because it’s a 10K loop runners can complete anywhere from one to five times, so I can decide in the moment how many miles I will run! My goal is to raise $20 per mile, and I’m up to $12 as of today! 

In honor of the runathon, I thought it would be fun to reflect on my best race memories. But you know, when it comes to racing, you really can’t reflect without thinking of the worst memories too. Because those are the races you really learn from. And honestly, so far, I’ve had a LOT more bad memories in races than good memories. Until recently, I have been a runner who loved training and running on my own, and didn’t really thrive in a race environment. The reason for this really boils down to one thing: I care too much about what others think of me, and put too much pressure on myself to compete with others, instead of just running my own race, and reaching for my own goals. I’m hoping to continue to change this in the future.

Through my running, improving upon this weakness - strengthening my mind, my self confidence, and my self esteem as a woman sometimes feels more empowering than the improvement in my physical strength and my body that I see as a runner.

So in this post I will tell the story of my worst race experience. Don’t worry - next week I’ll tell you about the best race I’ve run, but let’s talk about the interesting stuff first, shall we? 

Ok so my worst race. Get ready for it. The Vermont City Marathon in Burlington, Vermont. Yep. My first marathon, and Boston 2019 will be my second. I really enjoyed training for Vermont City, as I enjoy training for all my races. I’m an introvert so I actually like the solitude of running alone. I do like running with groups sometimes, but not for every run. I love to have time alone to think, and the long runs gave me that. As a mother of two little kids, time alone isn’t something I have in abundance. 

Obligatory night before the race Instagram post. People like seeing your clothes before they look gross I guess...

But throughout the training, I was plagued with injuries. I was constantly trying to stave off another piriformis injury (it was originally injured while training for the Wicked Half in September 2018) by stretching and strengthening, but I could tell the muscle was about to yell uncle. I also developed achilles tendonitis. Luckily I was able to continue running, and did a regimen of reverse calf drops to strengthen the muscles and tendons, and the injury rehabbed. But about a month before the marathon, I developed a nagging calf injury in my left leg. I had been seeing a chiropractor throughout my training, and he recommended I see a physical therapist. He sent me to the fabulous Heather Burke (https://positiveoutcomept.com/), who definitely helped a lot and worked wonders on the injury. However, two weeks before the marathon, she recommended I stop running and rest the muscle. According to Heather, I’d put in all the miles for the last 18 weeks, and during my two week taper period, if I just rested I would still be able to run the 26.2 miles. So I rested. It was torture. I walked, and I swam. Heather also told me she felt I had been running too much during my training - I was running five days a week, which was too much for a beginner like myself. Before I started training for the marathon, I had always cross trained a great deal, but once I started logging so many miles, my cross training fell off, and my body actually felt weaker in some ways than before. I knew Heather was right - damned hind sight being 20/20 and all…

Finally race day arrived. I was very nervous, but tried to stay positive. Based on my most recent runs, I hoped that if I could just get through the first 3-5 miles and my calf warmed up, I would then be able to hit my stride and finish the race.

By a quarter mile in, I was in real pain. I remember thinking, it’s only been a few minutes and I’m already going to have to quit! But I stopped and stretched, ran a little, stopped and stretched. It was a smart strategy, but I beat myself up about it every time I stopped, and worried about all the runners passing me. By half a mile, I couldn’t bend my left leg and was starting to semi-drag it along beside me as I ran. I remember the sound of my foot smacking the pavement in an odd rhythmic way. I couldn’t pick it up in my usual way and set it back down, so it just kind of smacked along. I kept going, hanging on to the hope that it would warm up and I’d be ok. And then, it did warm up, and it did start to feel ok. At about six miles, I started to feel great. I felt so grateful, and just happy to be running. I ran down the Vermont highway, all the way down and then back again, and then back into downtown Burlington. At eight miles I saw my family - my husband, little girl, son, and my sister Kimberley and her fiancé Mike. They were all so happy and cheering, and so was I!

The best part of the worst race - mile 8 in downtown Burlington, when I saw my family for the first time.

My app updated me regularly of my predicted finish time. I was very pleased to hear I was on pace for a four hour finish. I was feeling good, and really enjoying myself. But one thing I learned about marathons, is that it’s a journey. You can experience the highest of highs, and the lowest and lows. At 13.1 miles, the halfway mark, some of the runners veered to the left to pass the baton to their team mates, as Vermont City was also a relay race. I, however, had to veer right to do the whole damned thing over again. It was a significant hit to my psyche. 

I knew that mile 15 was a massive hill. The stuff of legend. A mile long uphill through downtown Burlington. Instead of using the beating drums and the roaring crowds to power my mind though the challenge, I let that hill beat me. I fixated on the physical aspect of it, instead of realizing it was a mental challenge. And by doing that, my mind was defeated. All I thought about was the runners passing me on that hill. Once I finished the physical torment of climbing it, I felt completely defeated. At that point, my race was done. If I wasn’t so terribly stubborn, I would have given up then. I remember turning left and into the neighborhoods of Burlington, and just feeling angry to still be running. Now, in hindsight, I know that it was all in my head. I really was more than capable of finishing the race. But instead of trying to think positively, I allowed myself to be drawn down into that dark place you can find yourself in on a long run. My pace began to get slower and slower, my predicted finish time stretching further and further away. 

After the neighborhoods, we hit the 20 mile mark on a bike trail through the woods outside Burlington, along Lake Champlain. It was beautiful. I remember seeing a labrador playing in the lake with its owner watching, and I was so mad at that dog. And I LOVE dogs. I was mad at everybody. It was bad. That bike path lasted for 6 miles. 6 miles of black pavement with a yellow line in the middle. Easily the longest six miles of my freaking life. I remember hitting 26 miles and feeling like the prospect of running another .2 was absolutely IMPOSSIBLE. I saw my family at the finish, as if I was looking into a foggy mirror. Afterwards, Kimberley told me my eyes looked relieved, yet haunted. I did feel like I was in a hell. But now I know that it was a hell of my own mind’s making.

I crossed the finish line at 5:11, and someone gave me one of those cool silver capes. That made me feel a little better. Then there were a few women handing out medals. The first one said something to me. I could just see her mouth moving but couldn’t understand her. She repeated herself, and I heard “Are you whole?” I was confused, but looked down at my body, and was relieved to see I was. I said to her, “um, yeah.”  After the fact, I realized she had said “The whole?” as in the whole marathon as opposed to the half. At least I got the right damned medal… 

For days afterwards I was so sore and tired that all I could think about was recovering. Many people said to me, “well that’s a bucket list item you can check off.” But even then, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel that it was one and done for me. I think I knew I could do better, and I wanted the chance. Afterwards, I realized that I had overtrained. I spent too much time running and not enough time cross training. And, I had let my negative thoughts, my self consciousness, and my anxiety conquer me. I knew what I need to do. What the real bucket list item was. I needed to do better, and I needed to do it in Boston. 

The Great Vegetarian Experiment

This season I’ve fallen (pun intended) in with this fantastic group of trail runners near me, and I’m having a great time running with them once a week in the Lynn Woods. The group does a bunch of fun trail races in the area. I feel so fortunate to have so many fun trails to race on in New England!

 

The crew after our most recent run in the woods - 14 miles and then a fire pit and birthday cake!
Photo cred Allison Cunningham.

Through the group, I heard about the “GAC Fat Ass 50K” race January 5 on the trails of Bradley Palmer. It’s one 10K loop runners can complete anywhere from one to five times. So that means, on the spot you can decide if you want to run anywhere from a 10K to a 50K. Dammit. I was hooked. First of all, Bradley Palmer is a gorgeous spot, and it’s just a quick 30 minute drive from my house. Also, January 5 is my 11th wedding anniversary, and my husband’s number one favorite part of being married to me is waiting at finish lines for me! He’s super happy my number one hobby involves him waiting for hours in the rain and snow!

Engagement photo from 11 years ago - Kevin was also super psyched to pose for this pic with my pet cat. 

So I’ve been considering a training plan because this race is only six weeks away. That’s not good. Don’t misunderstand me – I don’t plan to actually run 31 miles. Although I’d like to try for a 50K at some point, it’s not likely I could train for and successfully run 31 miles in this time period. My goal for the Boston Marathon is to toe the start line uninjured, so I’m not going to push myself to run 31 miles without adequate training. But I would like to complete two or three loops, which would be 12.4 to 18.6 miles. I’ve been reading the book Eat and Run by Scott Jurek. It’s a really incredible story about Jurek’s journey to become one of the world’s greatest ultra runners. Jurek is an evangelist for the benefits of a plant-based diet for distance athletes. I have been thinking about going at least partially vegetarian for a while but thought it would destroy my marriage so decided against it. My husband is quite the carnivore…he loves to cook and creates very adventurous and beautiful dishes, usually featuring meat. He roasts a whole pig several times a year in our backyard. His most prized possession is his Big Green Egg grill - and suffice it to say his focus for his smoker/grill is not vegetarian platters.

Nevertheless, I decided this six-week period would be a great time to try out vegetarianism (makes sense, right), to test if it really does improve my performance as an athlete. As I’m writing this, I’m one week into my plant-based diet. I am already dairy free, because of my intolerance to the dairy protein, but I have been eating eggs, because full on vegan would be too much too soon.

I’ve also decided to give up alcohol for the six weeks. I’ve never been a heavy drinker, but I have 3-4 glasses of wine per week, spread over a few days. It’s been a week, and so far I’m feeling really good! I had been doing weight watchers and had lost 10 pounds. I always weigh in on Fridays - the last time I weighed in was two weeks ago. Last week I didn’t weigh myself because I was travelling for Thanksgiving. Over the last week of vegetarianism and no alcohol, I haven’t counted points. Although WW is a wonderful program, I’m finding it’s difficult for me to survive on the points they allot me given my intense training routine. I wanted to see if this lifestyle shift towards a plant-based diet would allow me to maintain my ideal weight while not starving myself. Well, as of yesterday I had lost two pounds, even though I ate kind of crazy over Thanksgiving! I am very excited. My running is feeling good, and I’m excited to see how things progress. My husband, however, definitely does not feel so good about it. To put it plainly, my little carnivore is pretty crabby. I’m not sure what he’s more upset - that I won’t be eating meat or that I won’t be drinking wine.

To try to make up for it, I have also reserved us a room in a B&B in Ipswich, near the race. I thought after I run the trails and Kevin waits in the cold, it would be fun to have a fun night out and stay away from the kids. It’s our anniversary after all! And the room has a clawed foot bath tub, so - win. It’s only fitting that we should spend our anniversary at a race - I think that my journey as a runner is a perfect analogy for the difficulties of marriage. When Kevin and I got married, I was 24 and he 27, and I had never run 1/4 a mile in my life. I used to say I hated running, and that I could never even run in a 5K race because my shin splints wouldn’t allow it. Now I’m obsessed and plotting to train to run distances that most people wouldn’t even want to read about. We are both simply completely different people than when we were first married. But, we still laugh a lot, we still have fun, and we still know how to party. We’ve both grown and changed a lot in the last 11 years, but we’re going on this journey together. It certainly has not always been easy and sometimes has taken a lot of determination and work. But the rewards are worth it. Just like running.

Also please send whiskey to my husband for the six hour wait in the cold and rain…

Baby It's Cold Outside: Running in Winter Weather

Just a girl and her cleats on an icy day.

When I tell people I’m training for the Boston marathon, a common comment has been, “oh no, you’re going to have to train during the winter in New England.” Yes, this is true. But, I did train for the Vermont City Marathon last winter, and I found I actually prefer running in the cold compared to the humid heat of a New England summer. Although I run all summer too, I’m just not a hot weather runner – my performance is much better in the cold.

That being said, there is one thing that’s an added challenge in the winter: it just takes more gear. Luckily for me, I love running gear. Purchasing extra gear for winter running was actually pretty fun for me. Maybe not as fun for my bank account, but luckily it doesn’t have as many feelings as I do. 😊 I have created the below outline for how I gear up for winter weather. I thought this might be helpful for those of you taking the plunge into winter running. I have linked the typical products I wear on the run, just as examples. I've also included lots of pictures from my Instagram of me on cold runs because, apparently I take a lot of running selfies...#sorrynotsorry.

The general rule of thumb is that you should dress as if it was 15 to 20 degrees warmer than it actually is. You should feel a little chilly before you start running. You can’t go out for a winter run feeling all cozy and bundled up, because you’ll quickly overheat and that could be dangerous. If you’re a person who doesn’t get very hot and sweaty while running, you may want to dress a little warmer. If you’re like my husband and you’re basically a bear-man who shovels snow in shorts, you don’t need to wear as much. But keep in mind, how much a person heats up while exercising isn’t always dependent upon body type. I’m one of those people who is constantly freezing in the winter. I’m small, and honestly don’t have a lot of body fat. I wear a lot of clothes and am generally pretty miserable in the winter. But once I start running, I get really warm really fast. I tend to underdress when I run, so that I don’t I end up really uncomfortable. I also dress in layers and buy gear that can easily be carried once removed.

As I said, I’ve linked some of my favorite products below. Note that these are my unbiased opinions. I haven’t been paid by any of these brands. In general, my favorite brands for cold weather are Lululemon (my favorite brand for all running), Athleta, Nike, and Icebreaker.

40-50 degrees Fahrenheit: This is my favorite running weather. For this type of weather I typically wear capri running pants, or light long pants, a sleeveless running tank, covered with a light longsleeved tech top. I may wear my gloves, which convert to warmer mittens if I need them. I often take them off after a few miles and attach to my hydration pack. I will sometimes wear an ear warmer depending on the wind chill.

Out for a quick 10K in November 2017

32-40 degrees Fahrenheit: In all temperature zones, but particularly 40 degrees and lower, it’s important to consider wind chill rates and any precipitation. In general, in this weather I wear long pants, a sleeveless running tank, and either two long sleeved tech tops, or this long sleeved cold weather tech top. I’ll always wear my gloves, and my favorite cold weather hat.

A little snow ain't no thang - December 2017.

Neither is a lot of snow - February 2018.

20-32 degrees Fahrenheit: Brrrr…it’s officially cold out there. If it’s closer to 20 degrees, I bring out my fleece lined pants. I only use these in really cold temperatures, because they’re too warm otherwise. I highly recommend these from Athleta. On my top half, I wear a sleeveless tank, a long sleeved tech top, and my Nike long sleeved cold weather top. I also depend on my Nike Aeroloft Flash Running Vest. This product is truly amazing and I can’t recommend it enough. I have no idea how something so thin and light can keep me so warm. It also packs up into a small pocket that becomes a wristlet if you want to take it off mid-run. It's also reflective which is useful in the often dark winter months. I always wear my gloves and Icebreaker hat. I may also add an ear warmer. If it’s closer to 20 degrees, or if the wind chill is significant, I’ll wear my Icebreaker Flexi Chute with my hat. This keeps my face and neck warm. The fabric does get damp with my breath, which then typically freezes over and I turn into Jon Snow north of the wall. But there are worse things I suppose…

I was in Denver this past weekend and went out for an early morning run in 25 degree weather, and it didn’t feel nearly as cold as similar temps in Boston. As there was no moisture in the air, it was more comfortable. It was also very nice that although the temperature was below freezing, there was no ice on the roads!

Geared up and ready to go last weekend in Denver. 25 degrees - picture taken before putting on my gloves. 

Below 20 degrees Fahrenheit: Really cold out there. I will wear all of the things above, and I may layer another long sleeved tech shirt. For temperatures below freezing, I may also wear my rubber running cleats to stay safe on ice. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of long runs in temperatures below freezing is preventing my water supply from freezing. I always carry water when I run, and for long runs I sometimes even hide water along my route to replenish my stores. In very cold temperatures last winter, the bottles in my hydration belt froze shut, and I returned home from my 15 mile run very dehydrated. The best option is to plan to stop at a store to purchase water, or a friend’s house. This winter I’m glad to have the option for long runs with my charity team, with staffed water stations. Problem solved.

Pretty much as serious as it gets - 10 degrees in downtown Boston January 2018.

That day my water bottle froze...my face tells it all.

I hope this is helpful. In general I encourage you to not be afraid to get out there and run in the cold weather – you’ll likely be surprised by how much you like it! Remember that the hardest part is getting out there and getting started!

Comment below about your favorite winter running gear!

Sorry I couldn't resist...

I.E.Who?

Does your kid have an IEP? Do you have an advocate? IEP or a 504?

Do you understand any of these questions?

Don’t worry, about 10 months ago I didn’t either. I remember first hearing terms like IEP, educational advocate, and 504. I would do my best to make it seem like I understood, when actually I felt like a clueless, incapable, stressed out, drowning-rat mom who wasn’t possibly capable of handling the realities of parenting this child. Whoops, I mean, um, did I just say that out-loud?

I’m hoping if I tell you a bit about my own IEP journey, it may be helpful for you while going through your own process. First of all, I’ve recently talked with some of my friends who do not have children, or who don’t have special needs children, and I’ve found that things like IEP’s and educational advocates are (surprise) not things most people are born knowing about. This is complex, difficult, and exhausting stuff. So take a breath, and cut yourself some freaking slack. Pour a glass of wine, because here we go!

Before I dive into this, I’d like to give a disclaimer (yes I’m an HR lady and I really like to qualify things with disclaimers). I’m not a special education or autism expert. This is one mom’s own experience with my child, who has Level 1 Autism and Anxiety. 😊

IEP stands for Individualized Education Program. An IEP is a legal document that is developed for each public school child requiring special education.  Here is some useful guidance available from the US Department of Education about IEP’s. An IEP is developed in cooperation between the parents of the child, a case manager or representative of the school district, the student’s teacher(s) and possibly principal, and any provider of related services to the child from the school district (in Sully’s case, this included the speech therapist, occupational therapist, special education specialist, and school psychologist). Parents also may choose to bring an educational advocate, social worker, and/or lawyer (more about this below). Yes, that’s right – Sully’s IEP meetings have had 10 people present. The IEP details the educational goals for the child, and any special accommodations the school will make for the child. Here’s the thing – in the US, public schools are legally required to give a child any accommodations she requires. If they can’t provide them in their district, they must send the child elsewhere – to a different public school district, or even to a private school. The district also must provide transportation to this different school, and if it’s private, the school district pays the tuition. A 504 plan is similar to an IEP, in that it’s a document developed to outline the services to support a child with a disability. But, in general, children with 504 plans do not require individualized specialized instruction, as do kids with IEP’s. I’m not an expert on 504 plans, because Sully doesn’t have one. But I found this useful comparison of IEP’s and 504 plans.

As you might imagine, the parents often want the child to have a lot of services, and the school district doesn’t necessarily want to pay for those services. So what often happens is that there are arguments between the two groups about what services will be provided. In order to even get to this point, the student must have a diagnosis qualifying them for the IEP (such as autism). In order to get this diagnosis, most people have gone through a Neuro-Psych evaluation, which results in a 20-30 page document. To get the Neuro-Psych evaluation, Sully waited on a waiting list for eight months. Then the school district orders a whole menu of tests they do within the school. Then, as the groups are negotiating, there may be additional tests completed to get second opinions, to support the child’s need for services.

So, as the parents are arguing with the school district for more services, what I’ve noticed sometimes happens is the poor teachers and specialists are caught in the middle. I truly believe that teachers are some of the coolest and best people. I mean, my kid’s teacher is just great, like everything you could ask for in a Kindergarten teacher. You can tell she loves her students and she loves her job. And she’s in this meeting where people are writing out a legal document about how she is supposed to do her job. What a freaking nightmare for the poor woman…I’m sure she’d like to give Sully everything he needs, but not only does she have the limited resources of the school district, but she also has 15 some-odd other kids to worry about in her classroom.

Now, in our case, after we had the diagnosis we sent the neuro-psych evaluation to the school district’s special education department, requesting they begin the IEP process. They then sent us a meeting notification for the first IEP meeting. We went to that meeting, discussed the additional tests they wanted to order for him within the school district system, and then after those, they sent us the results. They also sent us a second IEP meeting notification. We went to that and discussed the findings of the testing. We discussed if everyone in the room agreed with the diagnosis of autism and anxiety, which (thankfully) they did. We discussed (a nice word for argued) over what goals and services we’d like on the IEP. We also went through a checklist to identify if Sully might be a target for bullying. Everyone agreed he was, and we talked about different ways the staff would proactively address this. I am, of course, very grateful they addressed this now, before it became an issue, but I swear I literally heard my heart break in the meeting. A week or two after that meeting, we received the draft of the IEP via mail. We reviewed it with our advocate and sent in a partial acceptance along with the parts we’d like changed. Our advocate also recommended I schedule two additional evaluations, speech and O/T, to get second opinions. We now have a third IEP meeting scheduled, to discuss that version.

Now let’s talk about educational advocates. When Sully got his diagnosis, my boss, a father of four, gave me the advice to “get an advocate.” I’m glad I took his advice, because I really don’t know how I would still be alive with all my hair the same color without the advocate. So what is an educational advocate? They are individuals specially trained in disability law, are very knowledgeable about the IEP process, and the child’s school district. Your kid’s advocate is just that – their job is to argue with the school district about what services your child needs. They will also help you to understand the IEP process and advise you about the document. You will have to pay this person, but in our case it was worth every penny.

Now I am not a person who becomes easily emotional, especially not in meetings. In my job, I frequently find myself in difficult situations – I discipline people, I council them on poor work performance, and I help them with personal and emotional problems. I have fired quite a few people. But I never become emotional in these situations. I am VERY good at compartmentalizing my feelings. Even in my personal life. I remember when I was pregnant with Sully, and my husband Kevin and I created a will and bought life insurance. People who had done this before asked me if I cried, remembering how hard it was to talk with your spouse and lawyer about what would happen if the other person died. I was embarrassed to admit that no, the thought of crying never occurred to me. To me those things are black and white – business transactions which make rational sense. There’s no need to be emotional. I remember reading that when a woman sleep trains a baby, and the baby begins to scream and she can’t go in and comfort them, every ounce of her womanly instinct screams out to go and comfort that baby. When we did sleep training with Sully, I sat at the kitchen table and had a glass of wine and calmly timed how long it took him to stop. I had read the book, I had a plan, and I knew it would work (and it did). It was black and white. I had compartmentalized my feelings – put the pain outside of myself. I think that’s what I do when I run long distances. Often when I’m on a long training run, I suddenly realize I’ve completed 20 miles, and I don’t recall the last five. I feel surprisingly ok, and I complete the run and walk through my front door, and suddenly feel like I’m going to die, my body screaming out from every pore “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU CRAZY WOMAN!” I guess I remove myself from the physical task of running 20 miles, I just do it, and contemplate the pain afterwards. When I terminate someone’s employment, I do the same thing. I go home at night and think about it, and my heart goes out to them.

When the school district sent me the results of Sully’s testing, I felt the familiar sense of dread I’ve felt every time I get a Preschool progress assessment, and when I saw the Neuro-Psych evaluation. The feeling that someone was about to tell me everything that was wrong with my baby. The feeling that they were going to say, like his Pre-school teacher had once said, “Sully, he’s just...different.” I sat reading the results and felt like someone was ripping out my heart, Game of Thrones HBO style. I told Kevin that I felt like someone had cut out my heart, put it on a piece of paper, and assigned it scores.

Then we went to the IEP meeting and discussed the scores. So I got to feel like they had ripped out my heart, laid it on the table, and argued about how they would, and would not, make it better. I remember laying my hands on my thighs and squeezing so I wouldn’t scream. At one point, I completely shut down, and trusted our advocate, Summer, to take care of it. Summer is also Sully’s therapist, and she knows him, and us, well. I trusted her completely to take care of the situation, and she did.

Part of an IEP meeting which was startling, and disturbing was that we had to fight our parental urge to argue that Sully is the complete best. For example, when someone asks me if Sully has a hard time transitioning from task to task, my maternal instinct is to argue that Sully does ok, as long as you prep him ahead of time and handle it appropriately it really isn’t a problem. But Summer taught us that if you say that, the school district will then argue that he needs no social emotional interventions to help him transition in the classroom. I had to catch myself and allow his advocate to speak up and ignore my mom voice screaming “MY KID IS AWESOME AND YOU ALL ARE CRAZY, THERE IS NOTHING HE NEEDS TO WORK ON HE’S THE BEST!!!”

So yeah, I’m not sure what’s harder, running a marathon or the IEP process. It’s tough. But, looking back, I wish someone had told me that it’s ok to not understand it at first. I am grateful I received and listened to the advice to get an advocate. I’m grateful we live in a wonderful school district with amazing teachers and administrators. And I’m really grateful for wine. So my advice is an educational advocate, and wine. Lots of wine.

Oh hi there!

Welcome to my blog! My name is Jennifer, and I live in the beautiful coastal town of Marblehead, Massachusetts with my husband Kevin, and our two children - Lizzy (4), and Sully (6). I am many things - mom, wife, runner, HR professional, boxer, swimmer, knitter, stitcher, baker, and honestly you never know what I'll take up next. 


So the moral of the story is that I stay busy. Sometimes I feel like I do a little too much, and sometimes I feel like if I didn't do this much I would go completely insane. But this blog is going to be (mostly) about training for the 2019 Boston Marathon. I'm running as a charity runner for the Doug Flutie Jr. Foundation for Autism. Why am I running this marathon, and why with this charity? Well I'm glad you asked...

The story:

I have not always been a runner. In fact, I only began running about six years ago, after my son Sully was born. Although I loved my baby very much, I found the transition into motherhood rather difficult. Initially, I began running with a group of other mothers to make new friends, and now it is something that has become my biggest hobby and outlet. And of course it made me realize my love for cowbells...

Sully was diagnosed with Level 1 Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), and anxiety, in April of 2018. Like most ASD parents, the diagnosis was certainly not the beginning of this journey for us. Sully was what one would call a difficult child, even as a baby. He screamed almost non-stop for the first three months of his life, and as he grew, Sully had constant ear infections and respiratory issues. He has had a total of six surgeries, including ear tube placements and an adenoidectomy. He also has strabismus, and wears glasses to correct it. Due to his hearing loss, Sully’s language development was delayed. I also felt from an early age that there was something abnormal about Sully’s social development. Everyday activities that other parents seemed to enjoy with their kids presented challenges and frustration for us. Birthday parties caused Sully anxiety and he refused to participate in the activities like singing, bouncy houses, sports, and face painting. Although he loved trucks and could obsessively list the functional details of each one, he was terrified at the local touch a truck event and would not participate. I felt like I was a failure and felt isolated and alone in my struggles. I repeatedly expressed my concerns to his pediatrician, but they were brushed aside. Everyone kept saying it would get easier, but it never did. I found that I had to more forcefully advocate for my son to get him the help he needed, and make my concerns heard.

Photo Cred: Victoria Dosch Photography

Once Sully started preschool, he began having behavioral problems in the classroom. It hurt me every time I heard about his inabilities to conquer his fears or to control his anger against his teachers and classmates. I found Sully a therapist and began taking him to weekly sessions to talk about processing his emotions, but without a diagnosis, it was hard to get him all the necessary help. Finally, after eight months on the waiting list (yes, you read that right. EIGHT MONTHS), Sully had a neuropsych evaluation in April. He was diagnosed with autism and an anxiety disorder. We are currently in the thick of the IEP process at school - don't worry I will definitely post about that, and let me tell you, it's going to be a doozy.

When Sully was diagnosed, I had mixed emotions. I worried about him being labeled, and I never wanted ASD or his anxiety to be an excuse, or to hold him back. But I also felt relieved. It's like I wanted to run into the middle of the street and scream "SEE I'M NOT CRAZY! THIS HAS BEEN  REALLY F*ING HARD!" I also felt overwhelmed, and not sure what to do next. In the end, Kevin and I told few people for a long time. It's not that we were ashamed - I think it was a combination of not wanting his diagnosis to define him, and the need to process everything ourselves first. Now, we feel at peace with the diagnosis and are glad he has received it because he's now more able to get the help he needs. We also feel certain Sully will live a full and happy life - we feel fortunate he is high functioning, and will make sure he lives life to the fullest.

While there were countless ups and downs during this time and so very many changes and transitions, the one constant sanctuary in my life was running. I found a true source of relief and therapy through training my body, being outside, and achieving my goals. I ran 5K’s 10K’s, half marathons, and finally set a goal to run my first marathon. I trained for five months for the Vermont City Marathon last Memorial Day weekend in Burlington, Vermont, and had a great experience! The highlight was that Kevin, Sully, Lizzy, my sister Kimberley, and her fiance Mike were all at the marathon cheering me on, and I got to see them multiple times as I ran!

After completing the Vermont City Marathon, I began to think about my next goal (well, honestly, I took a couple days to be really sore and walk down all stairs backwards, and then I thought about it). Many people asked me if the marathon was a “bucket list” item, and if I would do it again. I knew in my heart that it was not a one-time thing for me, that I wanted to do the Boston Marathon. 

In this blog, I want to give the inside story of my marathon training, but I also want to spread awareness about what ASD actually is. My hope is also to tell other moms and dads my honest story. This journey has not been easy for me, and I do not always feel I handle things with grace. But I continue to try, every day, and I hope you enjoy my story.


Oh, and don't forget the most important part...click here to donate.

Photo Cred: Mike Fitzgerald