I’m not usually one for setting resolutions when the year changes, but I do set goals. Then I revisit them, revise them, and chase new dreams. In 2016, my goal was to become physically stronger as a runner. While my race times weren’t stellar, they were good enough to earn age group awards and earn a spot to compete in the Canadian 5K Championship race. It was a year of running based on raw talent – running without tempos, speedwork, or hill training.
In the past few weeks, while laying out my training plan for Boston, I’ve realized two things. First, I am a fairly decent runner, but I’m nearing the end of my age group (50-54) so I have to do something different if I want to stay competitive. Secondly, I am stronger than I think. In my past two races, I really just wanted to see how I would run, hoping to finish the Road2Hope Half-Marathon (November) in under 1:40 and the Boxing Day Ten Miler (December) in less than 75 minutes. I ran 1:37 and 74 minutes, respectively, and I felt good. Obviously, my base is solid; it is time to change my training.
So my 2017 goal is to bump up my training and cross-training in terms of distance, intensity and frequency. This month, my plan is to add speedwork and/hills into my running but I am absolutely terrified of doing either in the dark, especially when it’s icy. And let’s be frank; I don’t like either of them anyway. I’d rather just run. But like so many other things that are good for me, speedwork and hills must be run if I am going to be in shape for Boston. By running right after work, on the streets that surround my school, I should be able to get in a decent workout before daylight is lost.
During my marathon prep, I am also going to increase my cycling (windtrainer miles) so that I can strengthen my quads and be ready for the Boston hills. My core is another area for me to focus on, which can easily be strengthened with consistency at the yoga studio and indoor climbing gym.
These goals are not part of a new year; they simply coincide with it as part of my plan for Boston. They are in place to help me become better than I am and the runner that I aspire to be.
“Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, I’ll try again tomorrow.” Dennis Edney
Picking my fall races is a challenge. It’s cross-country season, there are lots of different distances for road racing and, of course, there are a lot of marathons. There are so many great events to pick that I could race every weekend if I wanted. I sat down at the computer a few weeks ago to try to decide on which races to run. Resigned that I was not going to marathon this fall, I looked primarily at half-marathons and cross-country, but every single marathon listed seemed to jump from the screen. “Pick me! Pick me!” I caved.
I love everything about training for the marathon distance. Watching weekly mileage climb has a powerful feeling; every long run finished leaves me feeling satisfied; fulfilling the commitment to train, which means planning to eat, drink, and sleep around running builds mental strength. Most of all, I love the sense of commitment that marathoners show and the confidence that they gain in training and elation of crossing the finish line.
When I made the decision to not run the Victoria Marathon, I was genuinely upset about it, but it was the right decision to make. However, for weeks following, I was being tormented by the October line-up of marathons: Prince Edward County, Scotiabank, Prince Edward Island, Hamilton. All of them were doable, but how doable? How much fitness did I lose?
After 2 rest weeks of lower mileage (40-45k) and no long runs, I had to test myself. F
our Monday mornings ago, I woke up before dawn and finished 19K – and I felt good! That weekend, I ran 21K, met my friend, Monica, part way through and felt not so good. That same week, I made a few minor changes to my running lifestyle, which included new shoes and pampering my feet a bit more, and my third long run (another 21K) felt great. I looked at the fall racing calendar, my family calendar and my work schedule and I started to plan. “I can make this work” I thought. “I can be ready for Hamilton.”
And now it’s game time. Yesterday, I upped my game and threw a 10K tempo into my long run (giving me a total of 25K) and ran a 12K trail recovery this morning. In the past month, I have watched my weekly mileage climb from 40K to 66K, and I feel great about it. This week, I get a little more serious as I add more yoga and 2 cycling workouts to my week so that I have a stronger core and quads so that I am ready for ‘net downhill’.
I know the next few weeks are going to be a bit crazy. The boys are back in school, I have a new teaching assignment, and coaching soccer starts soon. But, for whatever reason, running a fall marathon is in me and, like I tell the kids at school, “When you want something badly enough, you can make it happen.”
This has been another summer when I haven’t planned a lot of racing as I had been training for the Victoria Marathon. After making the decision to not marathon on the other side of the country, I started planning a race schedule with events closer to home. The Summer 5K was at the top of my list; it was a new running event, and it was close to home. Knowing that it was sponsored by Mercedes Benz and organized by vrPro, it was bound to be a good event.
On Sunday morning, my teen son who has been playing around with photography for the past few weeks, offered to come with me. “I’m leaving early,” I warned him. But the idea of practising action shots was calling him. Just before 8:00, we pulled into the Mercedes Benz parking lot and, while I went to pick up my race kit, he caught a few more z’s. The start was at 10:00 and it was already hot and sunny.
The volunteers from Mercedes Benz and Kelly Arnott of vrPRO were busy getting set up. Registration was open, men were setting up the barbecue for the after-race, the Pearl Izumi van with its tent had just pulled in…and the bathrooms were ready – inside the building! In fact, the bathroom facilities were one of the most exciting parts of the race: private stalls with doors with locks that actually worked, sinks with running water, paper towels, and mirrors. It was the first time that I have had access to such a luxurious bathroom at a race.
Feeling anxious, I headed out about 15 minutes earlier than planned to warm up and was I ever glad I did! When I registered for the race, I thought “Burlington – flat. This should be a nice, easy course.” The terrain seemed flat on the course video too. But when I started to warm up, I realized how wrong I was. As soon as I turned out of the parking lot, I faced a very slight incline, which became a bit steeper as I approached the 1K mark. As I continued to run, I saw the course plateau a bit and breathed a sigh of relief, only to get to the top and – you guessed it – saw the road climb again. I turned around to head back to the start to warm up and get my head into the game, realizing that I would have to carefully pace the first half of the race so that my legs wouldn’t fry at the end.
And that’s exactly what I did. I checked my watch at 1K and my timing was exactly where I wanted it to be: 4:20. The next 1500 metres were basically uphill and I knew there were a lot of women ahead of me. “Keep it like this,” I told myself. “You have 4 kilometres left to catch them in.” It took 5 minutes to run the next kilometre (uphill), during which I picked my targets to pass, one by one. Each time, I listened for their breathing to figure out how much space was behind me and how much more of a gap I needed to open. There was one more in sight and she would not let me pass her. When I moved right, she moved right; if I ran left, she ran left. So much for a friendly local race. I threw in a surge and fought to work my way around her and had the upper hand (or foot) at the halfway point. Now, there were no women in sight – but I knew there were still 6 or 7 ahead, judging by a volunteer’s counting – and I faced the part of the course I had been dreading more: the downhill.
I hate running downhill. In a race situation, it ends up being a real quad-buster for me, and I have avoided races like the Sporting Life 10K just because of the fast decline. Here, all I needed to do was (1) keep my pace and (2) stay ahead of the women behind me. It wasn’t long before I realized that keeping my pace was not enough as I could hear panting behind me; I was certain that it was the lady who kept cutting me off.
Sure enough, it was and it wasn’t long before we were running neck and neck, each of us trying to pull ahead of the other. Holding my pace was not going to happen; I had to pick it up. “Stay with her, Cynthia. Fight it.” We turned and the finish line was in sight. Now we were on a relatively flatter surface but into the highway wind and with about 700 metres to go, I pulled ahead. Silence. I felt the awkward stillness of her feet stopping behind. “Keep pushing. You can’t be sure that was her.” I stretched out my legs a little bit more, ensuring that I opened the gap a little more and hoped to catch two more gals who suddenly came into sight. Both were slowly down and if there were a little more real estate, I probably could have caught them, but I ended up finishing seconds behind.
Was I happy with my time? Not at all. I finished in 22:39, which is slow for me. However, the conditions were similar to the Beamsville Bench 5K that I raced last year and times were comparable. I also finished in the top 10 (whoever was counting missed a few) and first in my age group, which earned me a pair of Pearl Izumi shoes. Hooray for new shoes!
The reality, though, is I wasn’t training for this race. It was a C-race; I just threw myself into it to see what I could do: race with my head, pick up the pace when I needed to, run tough. My time wasn’t stellar but I can live with it, and it has given me some time goals to focus on while I keep chasing my dreams.
Over the weekend, several messages about a weekend run were flying between a friend and me and, then, they stopped. Silence. Our run didn’t happen. And a few hours after that run that should have happened, I got another message: “Body still isn’t working and kids are being disasters….Maybe it was just not meant to be this morning.” To that, I replied, “Yup, sometimes you just have to wait for the stars to line up.”
That’s the message that I have had to tell myself for the past week. This summer, I have been building mileage towards a fall marathon. My initial goal to run Quebec City fell apart because of my son’s soccer schedule so I quickly planned other options. I really wanted to marathon in Victoria, B.C. for several reasons. I use to live in Vancouver, and I have been itching to go back. The timing worked because it was over Thanksgiving Weekend so I would have an extra travel day. Finally, one of my training partners, Kelly-Lynne, is aiming to run the half in Victoria. All signs were pointing to the west coast.
Then, last week happened. I had been waiting for a few weeks to hear back from my employer about whether I could take an extra day, and I needed to confirmation before the end of the month so that I could book my flight. Well, I am still waiting and the seat sale is over. Secondly, while my two boys really want to take an early school break, my husband isn’t thrilled about making a long distance trip (3400 kilometres, or 2200 miles) for just a few days. Lastly, my feet are starting to hurt. For the past few long runs (22+ kilometres), I have been getting achy feet. Like most runners, this always happens to me during marathon training, but this time the pain is different; it’s sharper, and it lasts a lot longer. It’s the kind of pain that makes me think that I am setting myself up for injury, and I don’t want that to happen – especially if I do decide to run Boston in the spring. And, I certainly do not want to make the long and expensive trip to run in Victoria if I am not feeling 100 percent.
All summer, my training has been going well; it has been great. My mileage has increased the way I wanted it to, and I’m feeling power in my legs that I haven’t had in a while. But the stars weren’t in line for my flying to Victoria in October, and I need to follow the stars.
Did this upset me? Yes, of course. But there is always another marathon. Whatever the reason, this one was just not meant to be. Meanwhile, I’ve slowed down a little and had an easy 10 days of training to rest and think about some different goals for the fall – maybe a little track, a bit of trail racing, cross-country, some road racing, or some pot-pourri of all. And who knows? Maybe the stars will realign themselves and I will find that other marathon.
My husband, Dave, has volunteered with the Run for the Toad 25k/50K trail race for a few years. It’s one of the biggest trail races in Ontario, and several runners from other parts of Canada and the USA fly in to participate. Dave has been wanting me to run it but the race always seems to conflict with my other running goals.
A few weeks ago, Dave asked me to participate in the training run weekend. Basically, the event organizers organize a day of running on the trail loop (12.5K) so that their volunteers can practise for race day in October. I ran the training event two years ago so running it again to measure where I am in my training made good sense. But this time, I decided that I wanted to cover 25K and use it as part of my marathon training.
“Are you crazy?” Dave asked. “It’s a tough course. It’s like running 30K on the roads.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told him. “I ran 22K last week and the week before. I have water stations and company to run with here. I’ll be okay.”
One of my training partners, Kelly-Lynne who eats trails for breakfast, decided to join me. She knows the course well as her cross-country team trained on it when she was at Western University. Her plan was to run 12.5K and, if she felt good, she would run more.
The run started at 9:00 and temperatures were going to climb to the mid-30’s. I am fine running in heat but not when the sun is high. We knew that we needed to slow the pace down, to run something comfortably so that we would finish and feel good. My marathon pace is around 5 minutes/kilometre we thought 5:00 to 5:30 on this course was reasonable. Like any other trail, though, you can’t really pace yourself other than by the “what feels right” pace. So that ended up being the plan: run, talk, run and have some fun.
The hills: they were the challenge. Within the first 3 kilometres, I told Kelly-Lynne that I didn’t remember the course being as hilly the last time that I ran it. Ture to the nature of hills, though, every hill that went up also went down. Some of them seemed to climb forever and others seemed to go up at a 90 degree angle (especially Skeleton Hill, towards the end, which was a complete calf-buster). But the hills were doable as they were hiding under a canopy of trees.
For me, the toughest part of the course was dealing with the sun. I was able to deal with the heat but when we came from out of the trails into the open, under the hot sun with no cloud coverage, I started to feel nauseous. As soon as we got back into the shade, though, the sickness went away.
Kelly-Lynne ended up running the entire 25K with me. We realized at the end how well we actually covered the course as our second loop was only 3 minutes slower than our first – not bad with the change in temperature. Also, quite a few runners around us dropped out during the second lap. I think that running an easier pace played a big factor in our finishing, and the smart pacing was confirmed when, in the last kilometre, we passed a few runners who were way ahead of us earlier in the run.
Even though it wasn’t a race, I often had to remind myself of that. I often wanted to pick up the pace but I kept turning the dial the other way, making sure that I slowed down and respected the heat. It worked.
And now I have one more thing to consider as part of my fall racing. After the weekend, I realize that I really do want to race this course one day. Which year? Only time will tell.
When I decided to coach my son’s soccer team, I looked at the dates carefully as coaching is a 14 week commitment and it’s twice a week. I knew that the spring would be difficult as I had other things going on; from June through the rest of the summer, I have more flexibility with my time. My only real need in terms of coaching was making sure that my obligations to the team were over before I would be running the Quebec City Marathon, my marathon of choice for the fall. I diligently counted the weeks of soccer from start to finish and – perfect! Soccer ends the week before Quebec.
I don’t need to marathon in the fall. I BQ’d in Chicago last October and I plan to run Boston. My goals in and out of a fall marathon are to build a stronger mileage base and improve my BQ time. Running in August makes perfect sense as I won’t have to deal with high mileage during the craziness of back to school and registration for Boston is at the beginning of September. The Quebec City Marathon, which has been on my bucket list for years and years, is August 28th.
Hubby and I started to plan a mini-holiday to Quebec City and the province with the boys, possibly travelling into the maritimes. We looked into accommodations. Training was going well. Then, one evening, when going over the snack schedule for soccer, I thought twice.
“Um….why is Festival Day on the 27th?” I wondered. Looking again, I saw that we are scheduled to play on the week before Quebec City. How is that possible? I went back to the calendar and counted 14 weeks again. “The last week ends on the 20th! I don’t get it!” I looked at the calendar again, carefully. The players have a week off at the beginning of August! Why didn’t I realize that? Ugh! There is no way that I can coach on the 27th and get to Quebec City on time to pick up my race kit. Even if we play the first game and I fly, timing would be dicey.
I contemplated not going to the last two games of the season, our weekly game and the Festival Day event. But I always teach my boys that when you make a commitment to do something, you follow through with it to the end. Volunteer work is no different. I made a commitment to my team and the soccer club that I would coach the boys for the season. Had the marathon date been in the middle of the season, I might take off a game. But at the end of the season, it’s a different story. It would look like I quit or gave up on the team. How can I not coach for almost 4 months and, then, not be at their final game? Even if some of the boys don’t see it that way, what kind of message am I sending them? Is it okay for a coach to miss the final game and your trophy day? Not really. So, I am not going to run Quebec City. As I often tell other running friends when they have their own race conflicts, there is always another marathon.
So now the hunt for a fall marathon begins and there are only two conditions; it has to be in Canada, and it needs to be before the end of October. I’ve narrowed it down to Run Victoria (B.C.), Scotiabank Toronto, and Prince Edward Island. Before the end of July, I hope to have worked through the logistics and will register. Meanwhile, my training continues as I work towards building my base and bettering my BQ time.
My last minute registration for the vrPro Canada Day 5K sums up my whole year: busy! I forced myself to take a break from running over the winter, which ended up being 8 weeks instead of two, and re-building my mileage has gone slower than I expected. Throw in a hectic work schedule and life with boys, and it has been difficult to find time to train the way I want, let alone race. I have spent the past 5 weeks looking forward to increasing my training to the next level, writing about my running thoughts that are percolating, and start racing. Last week, after receiving the umpteenth email reminding me that online registration closes on Wednesday at 6:00, I looked at my watch and said, “It’s 5:40. I still have time.” Yes, the time was right so I registered. Easy as that.
I needed to throw myself back into the racing scene without putting much pressure on myself. The Canada Day 5K fit the bill. It was a low-key event on a quiet holiday, close to home and I have a history of running well there. Then, on Thursday night, I learned that there were 600 runners registered; suddenly it wasn’t a small event anymore.
On Friday morning, the oldest dude played “the good son card” and dragged his almost 16 year old behind out of bed to cheer me on at the race. (And, yes, he earned big brownie points as Hubs and the 10 yo were still sound asleep when we left.) I was nervous; my stomach was a mess and I wasn’t sure how I should pace myself, other than as fast as I can. I was glad to have my son’s calm presence, even if it was tired calm presence. We got to Burlington before 7:30, I got my bib and shirt, and ran into my friend, Beth, who is a significantly stronger runner.
By the time we were toeing the line, I realized that there were many other fast runners and a very competitive Masters group. In fact, I noticed more greying masters at the front of the line than I did sub-masters. I started to play with numbers. “Sub-22,” I told myself. “Go out at 4:20, you can do this.” I had my eye on Beth, who would run sub-20, two other women who were in my time range, and a handful of men whom I could pace off of.
The out and back course had everything from concrete, to stone and to sand. Within the first 5 minutes, the clouds opened and that meant we were running through wet sand between 2k and 3k. I don’t know how much it slowed me down, but it definitely did. Beth was out of sight before I hit 2K, I passed the women I was worried about by the 2K mark, and I’m not sure what happened to the men that I was following for a while; suddenly, they were – poof! – out of sight. In the last 2K, I chased two kids – around 12 years old, I think. After I passed one, I kept encouraging the second so that he wouldn’t slow down and I had someone to follow. In the last 200 metres, I was quickly reminded that kids are able to turn into the extra gear much more easily than I can; he jumped forward and finished about 15 seconds ahead of me.
But I was happy with my time. I was the 7th female (and Beth was first female!) and 1st in my age group (50-54). I wanted sub 22 and I got it – 21:24. And I won a sportswatch, which I was ready to give to my son until I saw it was pink. Sorry, kiddo!
I’m glad that I got this race out of the way. I got an accurate test of my fitness level, finished ahead of a few women whom I was sure would beat me, and a time that was exactly where I wanted to be. This has given me the confidence boost that I need and has already made it easier to set some running goals for the summer and move me into the fall.
One day, while having a conversation with a gentleman, he questioned, “You run in the winter? Don’t your lungs freeze?”
I shook my head and explained that it is okay to run in the winter. “You just dress for it, that’s all.” I left out what I wanted to tell him – that I have asthma.
For years, I wasn’t able to run in the winter because of my asthma. I’d go out and, within 20 minutes, my chest would start to tighten. Every time I stopped (because, living in the city, you have no choice but to stop at a traffic light), my chest would tighten and I’d start to cough. Often, I’d be wheezing. Yes, it was a struggle. I hated it. And I started to hate winter running. So for a few months each year, I would turn to cross-training indoors (but not the dreaded treadmill).
Fast forward to life after pregnancy. Both of my boys were born in the late fall and, like many new mamas, there were days when I just needed to get out. We lived in Toronto, where I could escape to the gym and park my babe at its child care for an hour. When we moved to Oakville, I became a home workout warrior; all of my fitness started and ended in my basement. This was fine until after I delivered my second child. I needed to physically leave the house. However, it was winter – and I couldn’t run in the winter. My lungs wouldn’t let me – until I woke up one morning and said, “That’s it. I’m going for a run.”
“Are you sure?” my husband asked.
“Yes! I have my puffer. I’ll take my time. I’ll only be gone for 20 minutes.” I pulled on my winter running gear that had been sitting in the closet for years and headed out the door. “I can do this,” I told myself. “I’ll be fine.”
And I was. My run was slower but I didn’t care. I was outside and running. I got back home feeling exhilarated and powerful. “I can do this! It’s time to take asthma by its horns and show it who’s in charge!”
For that and the next winter, I taught myself to run with asthma. I had to run a slower and longer warm up – to open up my lungs – in the same way that I have to warm up before a race. I learned to use my inhaler properly: one puff while getting dressed and another (about 10 minutes later) before I head out the door. Thanks to Running Skirts sub-zero skirts, I could comfortably carry my puffer in my side pocket (puffers in tights’ pockets just don’t work) in case I “got into trouble”. My running partners got use to my heavier winter breathing, the constant running nose and snot-covered gloves. Over those years, I built my winter running distance from 20 minutes to 30K. I was the boss of my asthma.
Last winter, due to my fall and broken jaw, I was forced off all exercise for weeks. This meant I escaped the woes of winter running and all of the laundry that came with it. I thought I was lucky but I was dreading the shock of readjusting to cold weather running. This past week was the first week of truly cold temperatures that southern Ontario runners have had to deal with this winter and I knew it was going to be a shock to my system. For the past few days, friends have posted pictures of themselves running with frozen beards, frozen eyelashes and steam circling their heads. Me? I wasn’t ready to face that kind of running yet and stayed on my windtrainer in the comfort of my warm basement. I was wimping out.
Until yesterday. Temperatures were climbing and now closer to -20C. I was ready. On came my layers and out I went. Within 10 minutes, I was quickly reminded that I have asthma. Yes, I used my puffer and, yes, I took my time warming up. But I could feel my chest tightening, resulting in that same feeling that I had many, many winters ago. “Wow, the air really is a lot thicker when it’s cold like this,” I thought. And I remembered that conversation many years ago. “You run in the winter? Don’t your lungs freeze?”
No, my lungs don’t freeze. But I have to be careful. I have to dress for it, that’s all. I have to use my puffer and I have to do a long warm-up before I run the way I want to. Yesterday, that is exactly what I did and guess what. I got home feeling exhilarated. Once again, I took asthma by its horns.
On Friday morning, one of my co-workers told me, “Cynthia, you are the most accident-prone person I know.”
Actually, I’m not accident prone at all. But when I do have one, I go all out. Either it is going to be huge (like last January when I broke my jaw in four places) or I am going to end up with a great story to tell. On Thursday, I walked away with a great story.
One of the greatest challenges of being a teacher is being able to get to the bathroom at the right time. We can’t exactly walk out of class when the need arises; we have to plan ahead. This means that many of us are often lined up at the beginning and end of a lunch break, or we rush in and out of the bathroom at the end of a preparation (or planning) time.
Last Thursday, I looked at the clock at the end of my prep time. “Geez! It’s 2:40! I have to be back in class in 5 minutes!” So I darted for the bathroom. When I finished, I got up quickly from the toilet, turned to wash my hands and, somehow, managed to bang my head on the bottom of the medicine cabinet. I fell back into the wall and cried, “Oww!” Something didn’t feel right.
A co-worker checked my head. “No, it’s obviously bumped, but there is no blood.”
As I returned back to class, I was feeling “off”. I headed back downstairs to the main office and begged, “Please, don’t laugh at me.”
Needless to say, there were giggles. Then, after my head was checked, I heard, “Oh my! You’re bleeding.” Within minutes, my class was covered and I was told to sit down. A concussion was the concern and, since it happened in the work place, my incident had to be taken seriously.
While waiting for my husband to pick me up (since I couldn’t drive if I had a concussion), I had to complete typical paperwork. In my case, the questions led to more giggles: How did the incident happen? Were there any witnesses? I can only imagine the reaction of the case worker who will be reading this later. When my administer had to answer “What treatment and precautions were taken?”, I asked her not to make me go through toilet re-training; she wrote that I was told to slow down.
Forty-five minutes later, my husband arrived and we headed to the doctor who determined that it was not a concussion but told me to watch for symptoms overnight. I was relieved as I really did not want to miss school the next day.
The next morning, a co-worker asked if I was okay. “What happened?” asked another. “You know Cynthia! She sprinted from the toilet!”
Yup, that’s exactly what I did – and it’s a sprint that I am pretty sure I won’t be doing again.
During the past week, I have had time to reflect on my past year – the good and the bad – and think about running goals for the spring of 2016. I am not setting a resolution as I have never been a big fan of them. But chasing a dream, setting a goal to achieve it, and becoming better for it: I am all about that.
But, like many others, I go through periods when sticking with those goals is tough. Family life can take over; work might get busy; I might be side-lined with illness or some type of ache/pain. So I have a couple of tricks to help myself stay motivated and work towards becoming better.
a. Make a Commitment to Others: For almost a year, I needed two of my training partners – Kelly-Lynne and Monica – to lure me to the Yoga Studio. Don’t get me wrong; I like yoga, but I don’t love it. I do it because it is good for me. Between the three of us, the texts would fly during the week to figure out who could go to Friday night’s class and who couldn’t, who had to work late and who didn’t. Nine times out of ten, if neither of them could make it, I would find something else to do. But the more I went with one or both of the girls, the more comfortable I became to the point where I now make the effort to go to yoga on my own. And, by the way, my fitness goal for the winter is to strengthen my core so I will definitely be frequenting more often.
b. Put Your Goal in Writing: This works for me and the more people who see it, the better off I am. Write your goal down and post it in a spot where you will see it again and again: on the fridge door, on the bathroom mirror, at the top of your desk at work. The more you see your goal, the more likely it will become a part of you.
c. Register for a Race: If you are a runner and want to run a 10K in the spring, find one now and register for it. By doing that, you have made a formal commitment to yourself and you have put it in writing. My husband talked about running at The Eggnog Jog when I race many, many times until I finally asked him, “Do you want me to register you for it?” Once I did, the talk stopped and the training started. Registering gave him the little bit of motivation that he needed to start running again.
d. Involve Your Family: I cannot stress how important this is – especially if you have young children. When my boys were little, planning the week on Sunday nights also meant writing out the days that I would run and the type of workout that I planned. Then, when I got home from work, they already knew whether or not I was going for a run. That reduced the meltdowns at home and it led to my sons’ encouragement and support in my own fitness goals.
e. Join a Club or a Group: This ties in with making a commitment to a training partner. The advantage of running or working out with a club or a group is that it will always be there and ready for you – even if your friends can’t – and you are likely to make some new friends with the same goals as you. I love training with Lions Valley Athletics. Even though I am the slow one in the group, I am always supported and encouraged by the others in the group, and I have made some great friends. This is a few of us at a training run back in August. And, in case you are wondering, I made some great friends – including my yoga buddies above – through my former club, Toronto Olympic Club, and through Lions Valley Athletics.
As I mentioned above, my goal for 2016 is to build a stronger core. Rather than focussing on it once or twice a week, I am changing my game plan: 20 in 16. In other words, I am going to do 20 minute core workouts over 16 days in the month. I have started a Facebook group – 20 for 16 – which people can join, set their own goal (e.g. 20 minutes of cardio, abs, strengthening, walking….), and we can all support each other on FB or Instagram. You can check out more details on Cynsspace . If you want in, leave a comment below.
Being better than you used to be: that is what resolutions are really about.