Going Outside My Comfort Zone

Three weeks ago, we put an incentive program in place to encourage The Littlest Dude to stick with his swimming lessons: a trip to Wonderland.  What he didn’t know is I had already planned to take the boys during the summer; it just happened that I was able to use that to my advantage.  On Thursday, he had his last lesson (and passed – hooray!); the next day, we planned our Wonderland visit.

Yesterday was a recovery day for me so I didn’t need to build time into my day to run.  My oldest wasn’t working and The Littlest Dude was ready to drop everything for a day at Wonderland.  To make things even better for us, the weather was expected to be great.  Monday was the obvious choice.

The only problem was getting there was a huge stress for me.  Despite my age (51), I am still a fairly new driver as I only got my license 8 years ago.  I am comfortable driving and I’ve driven on a lot of highways, but I have never driven on the 401, a major highway that goes through Toronto.  It has 6 lanes in each direction, collector lanes, other highways and roads passing over it and, at times, traffic facing the lane that you’re driving in.  It is overwhelming.  Living outside of Toronto, I hardly ever have to use it and, when I do, my husband does the driving.  So when Dave said that he wanted to stay home for the day, panic set in.  I didn’t voice my anxiety.  Instead, I took a deep breath and planned a different route.  There was no other way, though.  I had to drive on part of Highway 401 to get to Wonderland.

Once we had arrived, I looked forward to spending the rest of the day with the boys, even though it would mean spending about 50 minutes in line for a 3 minute ride.  Wonderland boysBut it was time together and I was fulfilling my promise to the Littlest Dude.  I expected that I would stand in line with them, wave as they got on the rides and take some pictures.  Wrong.  What I didn’t realize was both boys expected me to go on the rides with them.  Every.Single.Ride.   It didn’t matter that I am afraid of heights.   Even when the older of the two chickened out of Riptide, a gondola which takes you up in the air and flips you upside down over water, I still sat beside the Littlest Dude because he really wanted to go on it.  Did I get pictures of my ponytail and me hanging upside down – and there were several photo opportunities?  No.  Not one.  But, throughout the day,  my sons watched me face my fears.  They watched me do things that I really didn’t want to do and I hope it is those memories, more than the memories of the rides themselves, that they took home.

Monday was a rest day from running for me but, in the end, I ended up doing a different kind of training – mental training.  While we waited for the Time Warp to begin, the three of us were lying horizontally, facing the ground, locked in a cage.  I was nervous about the ride that would take us flying through the air while we always faced down or, if we were on a curve, sideways.  As at the start of every other ride, I was worried; my heart was pounding; I was sweating; I didn’t want to be there.   Suddenly it hit me.  I realized that I was learning to get comfortable being uncomfortable.  Running is the same.  There are times when it is going to be hard and it’s going to hurt but, through practice and training, we start to get use to it.  Fast paces, longer distances: to take those on, you have to get comfortable being uncomfortable.  At Wonderland, although in a different atmosphere, I took on a load of that same mental toughness.

At the end of the day, the boys and I waited for the big one: The Leviathan, a long coaster which has drops at 85 degree angles.  Without a doubt, there were several hundred people ahead of us and I made a point of telling the boys that I was easily the oldest person in line.  This was the only ride on which we agreed that I could wait with them, watch them get on  and wave them off.  Instead, as we waited together, I looked around at all the people and thought “If all of them can do it, so can I.  I’ve done the others; this can’t be much worse.”  So I did.  We got on together and I listened to them laugh and scream.

For us, Wonderland started as a family outing but it became so much more.  It reminded The Littlest Dude that I fulfill my promises; the trip was a huge deal and I am sure there are times when he wondered if I would follow through with this one.  It forced me to come out of my comfort zone by driving on the 401 and going on rides that were beyond anything that I had imagined.Wonderland Mom  My boys saw that it’s okay to be scared.  Most importantly, though, is the trip let my boys see that there are times when you have to do something that you really don’t want to do.

Will we go again?  Maybe next year.  And if we do, I’ll be able to drive, go on those same rides and try some new ones.  I am more comfortable with feeling uncomfortable.

 

Time to Refocus

I don’t know why I love training for the marathon distance.  I’ve always been one to take on a challenge, as long as it’s reasonable; training for the 26.2 miles, for me, is reasonable.  It lets me do a lot of something that I really enjoy.  In fact, training for a marathon brings out that addictive side of my personality, the side that lets me eat, sleep and dream running for months.  And it gives me a fantastic excuse to get out of the house and away from the dudes for an hour or two – or three.  This summer, I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve said “I have to go for a run”  and the boys just nod and smile.

Last week, something different happened.  My mileage increased, I felt the typical aches and pains and, without warning, I didn’t want to run.  Shocking.  It wasn’t so much that I did not want to run but I was afraid to run.  Whether it has been my asthma reacting to the muggy weather, a bit of dehydration or both,  I have had a few runs which just have not gone the way I wanted them to.  On Thursday morning, I woke up and just didn’t feel like going to my Lions Valley Athletics practice that night; I felt like that would just be setting myself up for failure.

My reasons were simple.  I didn’t want to run in the heat; I was tired of it.  Nor did I want to push myself through a tempo in the heat, especially after ending a hot run a few kilometres early the night before.  I had had it with feeling sick at the end of a workout.  And I didn’t want to run with the guys and finish last – again.  I needed to run on my own – no pressure.  So I skipped practice.

My oldest had nothing planned that night and he offered to ride his bike with me in the last part of my run.  So I headed out in the early evening and ran 11K on my own.  When The Dude met me, he was ready with Gatorade and water.  I only needed a bit of Gatorade; it was his company – silent but supportive – for the last 5 kilometres that lit a spark back under my feet.

Upper Middle bridgeHe rode ahead most of the time, only stopping to take a few pictures.    As I followed him, I found myself feeling like a runner again.  I felt strong, I felt fast, and I was happy.  And somewhere along the last 5K of my run, I found my confidence again.

Although I still don’t know exactly what it was, I needed to prove something to myself.   Looking back, those 16 kilometres were a turning point in my marathon training.  They made me realize that my training is going well, I’m stronger than I think, and I was indeed ready for a long tempo run on Saturday morning.

More importantly, though, it made me realize that I have the support of my family while I chase my Chicago dream.  My boys aren’t just giving me the smile and nod when I tell them “I have to go for a run.”  They get it.  They have seen the time, sweat, dehydration, aches and all the challenges that come with marathon training.  But they have also seen how important this goal is to me and my drive that has gone into reaching it.   Now that I see that, I have different kind of energy and a new focus to carry me through the last 7 weeks of my training.

#Chasingmydreams while #ontheroadtochicago.

 

 

The Daily Double

One of the joys of marathon training is watching your weekly mileage grow and grow and grow.   There comes a point, though, when my body can only handle so much, when I start to feel aches and pains and worry about the potential for injury.  For me, the magic number is 45 miles per week; as I get closer to and above 50 weekly miles, my body feels like it is starting to break.

A few years ago, my coach and I worked around my aches and pains by adding a few shorter runs to my week when I was in the late stages of the marathon cycle.  This meant that once or twice a week, I would run in the morning for 20 to 30 minutes and, again, for my usual evening run.  This let me add 3 to 6 miles to my weekly total without any extra stress – and it let me get use to the idea of running on tired legs.   That year, I was able to reach 60 miles a week (twice).

double run
My morning started with a run under blue skies. I loved the way the trees seemed to form a bridge over the evening clouds.

 

Last Wednesday was my first double run in my Chicago prep.  In the morning, I ran an easy 5k when the sun was high.   As I started, I was quickly reminded how tired my feet feel when they have less than 12 hours of rest.  This forced me to run at an easier pace and work on my form.  I thought about stretching my stride and how to land.  By the end of the third kilometre, I felt that I had my rhythm back and ended my run feeling much more comfortable than when I left.   In the evening, Monica and I hit the trails for another easy run.  We finished 11K later, leaving me with a daily total of 16K.

This Wednesday, I looked forward to my double run.  After a morning physio appointment, I ran a comfortable 5K and diligently did my calf exercises.   stretchRather than do my heel drops inside on the stairs, this Canadian running mama grabbed one of the boy’s hockey stick for support.  Standing on the curb, I slowly lowered my heels and raised them to stretch out the muscles in my lower legs.  Like last week, I felt great when I finished my morning workout.

double run2
After Run #2, finishing with a humidex in the mid-30’s.

I headed out for my second run in the late afternoon which, due to family commitments, was the only time I was able to run.  I felt fine when I started but when I got to 5K, I was starting to have trouble breathing.  By 6K, every step was effort; soon after,  I realized that I was overheating so I turned towards home.  By 7K, I called it a day.  My breathing was completely off as I was having trouble running for more than 2 or 3 minutes at a time.  Home I walked.

I checked the temperature when I got home and was not surprised to see that the humidex had it at 35C.  Finishing my run when I did was a smart decision, but it angered me that I didn’t hit my mileage goal.   One side of me told me to let it go; the other told me that I had to make it up before the end of the week.

The only thing that I was certain of is my need to drink more water.  Between the hot yoga classes and the runs in humid conditions, I need to make more of an effort to drink more water and make sure that I am replacing electrolytes with Gatorade.

Walking away positively, I was glad that I still managed to run twice in one day, even if my second run didn’t go as planned.  Last year, when training for the Goodlife Marathon, I only had 2 weeks with double runs and I’m already at that point now.  With 7 weeks to go until the Chicago Marathon, I should be able to have a few more weeks to play this “daily double” game.  And if things go well, I might even try it twice in one week.

Race Report – Whitby Summer Races

Whitby water
After the race; along the beautiful waterfront trail in Whitby, Ontario.

Last week was one of the mentally toughest weeks that I have had in a long time.  Running in a storm – okay, maybe that was fun.  Getting sick on my long run – not fun at all.  So when I headed to Whitby for the 10K on Sunday morning, I proceeded with caution.

Why did I pick Whitby?  First, it is one of the few longer races (yes, this summer, a 10K race is a longer race) in the GTA.  Almost all regular races have been cancelled in Toronto because of the PanAm Games and many race directors outside the GTA have dropped theirs because of the transportation difficulties that the Games have caused.  It was a long drive but the Whitby race is one of the few road races in the Toronto area all summer.  Secondly, one of my training partners, Darryl, was going and it is always more fun racing when you go with a friend.  Finally, timing was key.  The 10K in Whitby sets me up nicely for a 10 miler or half-marathon before the end of September in preparation for Chicago.

On Friday night, my coach advised against racing.  He reminded me that it would take my body a few days to recover from my 30K long run on Friday.  Finishing it as sick as I did and racing two days later was simply not a good idea.   He was right, but I wasn’t about to walk away from it that easily. I was, though, prepared to walk away from the start line if I found that I really wasn’t up to par; if I felt dizzy or sick on the course, as hard as it would have been, I was mentally ready to DNA.

Darryl and I left town at 6:00 on Sunday morning and, after a major detour (yes, we got lost), we arrived at the venue shortly after 8:00, 90 minutes before the start.  The low entry fee ($30) hinted that it was a low-key, no-frills event and it was.  There were just over 100 runners for the 5k and 10K and our race kit was an OLG cotton t-shirt.  After checking in, I headed out on my own for a short run before my actual warm-up to make sure that I was feeling okay. Whitby warming up The out and back route was going to be beautiful – a paved path along the waterfront and lots of greenery.  I noticed that the path was uneven at the edges and made a mental note to spend most of the race in the middle.  About 20 minutes later, Darryl and I did a slow warm-up together and, then, did our drills on our own.  I was feeling strong and race-ready.

Since numbers were low, the 5K and 10K started together.  I watched Darryl quickly disappear into the curved paths and found myself chasing a group of ponytailed high school runners.  I expected the course to be flat but it wasn’t; we were constantly rolling up and down hills, with a longer climb at the turn-around and another closer to the end.  The hills were in my favour, though, as I passed each of the girls (and many men) on them before the 5K turned back and I continued on, thinking that I might have the women’s lead in the 10K.

I ran the rest of the way on my own.  As I went further into the race, I found myself feeling more comfortable and picked up my pace.   When I saw Darryl on his way back and saw that he was in the lead, with about 20 seconds to spare, I cheered him on and became very focussed on my own race.  Three, four, five – only five people were ahead of me and they were all men; I was definitely in the lead of the women’s race.

After turning around, I saw that the second lady seemed to be only a minute behind me so I knew that I had to pick up the pace if I wanted to hold my position.  Over the last half of the race, I was able to close the gap between the two men ahead of me and add more space between the second lady and me.  It felt great being cheered on by runners who were still heading out.  That was all anti-climatic, though, as I neared the finish area.  I saw the photographer and worried about the drool and spit coming out of my mouth (yeah, I’m that runner), but he was only interested in drinking his water.  “What the h—?” I actually thought.  “You aren’t taking a picture?  Beautiful scenery, great lighting, me – and only me; it would be a fabulous picture.”  I quickly let my thoughts go, changed gears again (at least, I think I did), turned the corner and ran up a slight incline to finish.   The little girl who handed me my finishing medal was amazed. “How do you run faster than the 5K’s?  How do you run so fast?”  Yes, even without the photo, this was the vanity race that I needed.

In the end, the course was a tad short – about 400 metres short.  I finished in 42:08 but I think I would have finished under 44 minutes had it been an honest 10K.  Given the way that I felt on Friday night, I was happy with that.  Darryl opened the gap between him and the Number 2 Runner and was the overall winner, finishing a few minutes ahead of me.  It was a good day for both of us.

Whitby - This is how we cool downAfter we crossed the finish line, we did a short cooldown along the waterfront and found a great training circuit.  Of course, we had to stop and play.  Then we headed back for the awards (another medal, a pair of gloves and a reflective clip-on light) and back home.

This race was the confidence boost that I needed.  My race in Beamsville in July wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be.  My training has been going fairly well but Friday’s run did bring me down a bit.  I was quite happy with my time in Whitby, especially since it was a C-race, and finishing first (even if it was a small turn-out) was a bonus.

With 9 weeks to go, I can continue to build mileage but, more importantly, build some tempo work into my long runs.  After the past week of training and racing, I know I am ready for it.

 

 

When Dehydration Sets In

This summer, I have been trying to do my long runs on Fridays.  That lets me get them out of the way before the weekend and I don’t need to make that same time commitment to my training, leaving more time for the family.  Since school has been out, I’ve run 4 of my 7 long runs on Fridays and the other three on the weekends.

Getting yesterday’s 30K done was touch and go.  My oldest son worked late on Thursday night so he didn’t get home and to bed until 2:30.  Like most moms, when my son is out late, I am up late too – especially when I have to get him home.  The Littlest Dude, then, woke me up an hour after I climbed into bed and I ended up tossing and turning until daybreak.    When I should have been up and out for my long run, my pillow spoke to me; there was no way I was going to be able to run 30K on less than 4 hours of sleep.

I regretted listening as soon as I got up.  I was now facing a late afternoon run, which would have been fine as my other Friday runs have been in the late afternoon, but I had really wanted to get it out of the way early.   At 4:00, I finally headed out into the heat of the day.

It wasn’t actually that hot, especially compared to the temperatures we have had the few weeks before.  In fact, with the gentle breeze, I felt quite comfortable.  I stopped at a Rec Centre for water and a bathroom break 9K in, and again at the Soccer Club, another 9K later, for more water.  As usual, I had one GU gel somewhere in between.  I had more water at Coach Kevin’s house, who was going to run the last 8K with me, and I needed a bathroom again.  That should have been my first clue that I was heading towards the danger of dehydration.

It wasn’t even 2 km later when I suddenly started to feel tired.  I attributed it to my earlier pace. “I think I pushed harder than I needed to in the first part of my run.  I’m starting to feel it now.”  Soon after that, I had to stop.  “I’m feeling sick.”  We started to run when the nausea passed, but shortly after, I had to stop again.  The rest of the run was stop-go-stop-go until I felt an ache in my lower back; at that point, I knew I needed to stop and walk the rest of the way.

On the walk home, I tried to figure out why I was running so poorly.  I should have been able to handle the distance.  It was hot, but I had run close to the same distance in hotter and more humid weather.  I kept going back to the same reason: I ran too fast at the beginning.  When I got home, I realized what had actually happened; I had become dangerously dehydrated.

dying
Chilled and cramped after stretching. Dehydration had set in.

As soon as I walked in the door, I headed to a bottle of Gatorade.  Within minutes, I got the chills and shakes and had to put on some layers.  I stretched – especially my lower back – and fell asleep on the floor.   When I woke up an hour later, I drank some water.  Suddenly, I needed the bathroom; I was going to throw up.  After that, I broke out in a vicious sweat.  I crawled into bed, water bottle and Gatorade at my side, and slept for another 40 minutes.

When I got up again, it was dark.  The feelings of nausea had passed and I finally felt strong enough to shower.  Before doing so, I weighed myself and had dropped 4 pounds (and that was after taking in a litre of liquids!).

By the time I felt like eating, it was late evening.  I found leftover roasted potatoes and sausage from the night before – perfect!  One huge plate of spuds was exactly what my body needed!

This morning, I was feeling much better.  My weight is almost back up; I am still rehydrating and eating fruits and protein-rich foods.  The aches and pains are gone.  Today is now a non-planned day off running; tomorrow will be better.

rehydration
All set for a day of rehydration!

So, what went wrong?  1)  Pacing – I did go out too fast.  I ran the first 23k at a 4:45 (km) pace, when I should have been running a 5:00 kilometre.  2) Fluids – Even though I was drinking as much as I normally do, I didn’t get in enough.  It was hotter than I thought and I had no shade.  The faster pace/heat/low fluids was a bad combination.  3) Nutrition – I fuelled the day and night before, thinking I was running in the morning.  This left me feeling full so I probably hadn’t eaten enough through the day to fuel my late afternoon run.

What went right? 1) Even though the last part of my run was stop and go, I ran 30K, plus the 1.5K that I walked home at the end.  Now I can work with that distance, zone in on my pacing for a few weeks and build a little more.  2) Recognizing that I needed to stop.  I don’t want to think where I could be today if I hadn’t.  3) Family support: Once my boys saw the shape I was in when I got home, they are talking about riding with me so that I have liquids and company when I head out on my next long run.  Support vehicles are the best!

Everyone training for a marathon has to have one tough training run, one when they completely fall apart.  Yesterday, I had mine.  Thank goodness it is out of the way!

 

 

Knowing When to Say When

When I registered for the Chicago Marathon, I had forgotten how hard it can be to train through the summer heat.   Well, I didn’t entirely forget but I shrugged it off, thinking that this would be a typical summer with empty promises of hot weather.

Let’s keep in mind that this is Canadian hot – so nothing near the hot, dry heat that is felt through many parts of the United States and other parts of the world.  In Southern Ontario, I have to get up by 6:30 so that I can run in cooler temperatures, not at 4:30 like my Floridian friends.  But it’s all relative.

This past week, we had the first real heat wave that we have had in two summers.  23252-sunglasssunOn most days, temperatures were around 32 degrees (about 90F) but, when you added the humidity, it felt like 38C (about 100F).  What exactly does that mean?  At my hot yoga class on Monday night, they turned off the heat, closed the curtains to keep the sun out and we still walked away drenched; even then, it was hotter outside than it was inside.

Training-wise, the heat took its toll on me.  I ran my long run on Sunday and went through two bottles of Gatorade and lots of water in the 6 hours that followed; that was a personal record.  On Monday, I went to hot yoga at Power Yoga Canada; I trained with Lions Valley Athletics on Tuesday night, another sweat drencher.  On Wednesday night, due to family commitments, I kept my run short – 8K in feels like 35C heat.  By Thursday, I was done.

I had had it with the heat.  It, quite simply, had tired me out.   My feet were slightly swollen and I wasn’t sleeping well at night.  On Thursday, when the Littlest Dude asked if we could spend the whole day together, which meant no running for me,  I knew it was time to take a day off.  I needed the physical break but, more importantly, my son needed me.

Of course, I stressed over this.  I knew that the day off alone wouldn’t matter in the big picture but I worried about the drop in my weekly mileage.   I started to calculate ways to make it up over the rest of the week.  “Do I need to drop mileage next week too?” I wondered.   And what about next week’s mileage?

“ENOUGH!  It doesn’t matter.  It is one lousy day.  And it is one day that, for whatever reason, the Littlest Dude wants to spend with you.”  My inner voice set me straight.

And, as the week is wrapping up, the day off didn’t matter.  I ran yesterday and today, as planned, and I will tomorrow.  What matters is the Littlest Dude and making sure that he realizes that I am there for him when he needs me.  And when I do head to Chicago, he will be there, looking out for me.

Making Time

A lot of people ask me how I find time to run.  It’s simple.  I don’t find time; I make time.  Every run has to be scheduled into my day, around work and around family.  There are some days that this means getting up at 5:30 in the morning and running in temperatures colder than 20 below and others when I head out the door after 9:00pm.  I love running in the summer because, as a teacher, I have more flexibility and can schedule other activities around when I want to run.

Last Saturday, as on many Saturday mornings, I headed out for my long run before my husband and boys got up.  When I got home, things were different; I was greeted with panic by the other early riser.  “Where were you?” the littlest dude asked. “I thought you were kidnapped!”   I promised that if I left again when he was asleep that I would leave a note telling him when I would be home.

Gone runningThis weekend, I made time for my long run on Friday night as Southern Ontario faced a heat warning all weekend.  This meant that I would avoid the worst heat but would also have more time for the boys on the weekend.  On Saturday morning, with Dad and the boys still asleep, I was heading out the door for a short run, when I suddenly remembered: “I promise I’ll leave you a note or my running clock.”  I set the time for 10:15, left the clock at the bottom of the stairs and headed out the door.

When I got home, I was later than expected but things were okay.  The littlest dude saw my note, his brother was up with him and not a word about my absence was mentioned.  I was off the hook.

It is only a matter of years before this scenario will be reversed, when my sons are out at night (not morning) and I will be wondering when they’ll get home.  Right now, I’m loving these years when they are looking out for me.

 

Tender Tootsies

Over the past few years, I have run 3 marathons.  It is no coincidence that, over that same time period, I have lost 3 big toenails.

While distance runners often do lose a toenail or two or three, my most tender tootsie is really a result Chase, my 90 pound lab cross.   Five years ago, just after getting home from a ten mile run, Chase ran to me and stepped on my right foot landing primarily, you guessed it, on my big right toe.  I cringed.  My feet were already sensitive from just finishing my run but my dog aggravated them further with his weight.  For the rest of the summer, I watched the toenail turn black, lift and, eventually, fall out.  It has never been the same.  Now, during every period of building mileage, I prepare to go through the same process, resulting in feet that just don’t sport a pedicure well.

Since the beginning of June, while training for the Chicago Marathon, I’ve watched my weekly mileage increase from 20 to 40 miles a week and that same toenail become more and more purple.  It isn’t the nail itself that is the problem; it is the blood blister underneath the nail.  As the blister grows, the tissue under the nail becomes motoenail July 13re swollen, the nail begins to lift and turn whiter and the toe becomes sore to touch.

Wearing compression socks helps relieve some of the discomfort but, tonight, I wanted a more aggressive solution.  Out came the vinegar.

After sterilizing a needle and while soaking my foot in a bucket of vinegar, I gently poked the needle under the nail so that the blister popped.  A tiny bit of blood oozed out.  I did it again; a bit more blood escaped.  After the third poke, nothing came out.  I think I drained it.  I let my foot soak a little more, dried it and covered it with polysporin.

It didn’t hurt.  Honestly.  And my toe already feels better; I’m not noticing that same pressure on it when I walk.  The real test will come tomorrow morning when I put on socks again.

Many of my friends sport lovely pedicures throughout the summer.  Sometimes I think that I should too.  That way, I don’t have to look at my mess of discoloured toenails.  But I also want to see what is going on with them from one week to the next.  More realistically, though, I want my feet to show off the miles that I’ve logged while on the road to Chicago.

What’s In Your Pocket?

10672333_1605563229722205_5049302564460780315_nI love my running skirts, but not just any running skirt.  The original, designed by the running twins, Cindy and Christy Lynch at www.runningskirts.com, are comfortable, fashionable, and designed with performance in mind.  For me, one of their best features are their pockets.

Being asthmatic, I almost always carry my puffer with me when I run.  It’s cumbersome; about the same size as a gel pack but rounder and solid, my puffer can’t be squished or shoved anywhere.  side pocketsThe runningskirts.com pockets are ideal as the stretchy mesh panels at the side of the skirts means that the pockets can hold a lot.  In fact, this was one of the biggest reasons I first tried running skirts back in 2008.   Needless to say, I was hooked by their comfort and practicality and haven’t gone back to shorts since.

The pockets in a running skirt are also great on days when I have a long run.  Yesterday, as part of my Chicago Marathon prep, I headed out for my long run of 13 miles.  I needed my puffer, especially with the heat, but I also wanted two Gu’s and my iPod shuffle.  Thanks to Running Skirts, I was able to carry everything easily.

Yesterday, Coach Kevin wanted to take some pictures but commented that he couldn’t carry his phone while running.  “Well,” I said, “if you wore a running skirt, you could easily fit your phone into the side pocket.”   He thought about it, but I knew that I couldn’t convert him – yet.

What are your must-haves when you’re on the run?  What’s in your pocket?