Things I love about running: continuity

One thing I love about running is that it keeps me centered when I travel. Running gives me a sense of continuity when everything else - the climate, the food, the atmosphere, the people I'm around - is different from what I experience in my everyday life.  

I've been traveling a lot lately: several days per month on average. The trips are necessary and beneficial from a professional point of view, but they can be difficult because sometimes being away from home makes me feel like I'm losing my connection to myself. My brain starts getting kind of fragmented. The worst case of that occurred during a work trip last June; when I came home, I felt so depressed and out of it that I spent a week in bed. I don't want that to happen again.

Running helps. Wherever I am, I can put on my Asics, head out the door, and physically/mentally feel just as I do when I run at home or anywhere else. I am so grateful for that. I do not know what I'd do on these trips if I weren't a runner.

Here in Berkeley, I ran 6 miles yesterday and 7 miles today. I loved how the damp, drizzly air felt as I breathed it in, and how the bay looked from the hills above the university. I loved how the leaves on some of the maple trees are still a brilliant red. I loved seeing so many people out walking, biking, and running on a weekend morning. Running has been one of my favorite things to do here and a great way to see the city.

 Berkeley Hills

I love the neighborhoods here. I love how the houses are all so unique and how the trees are so grown.

Reasons to Run: Breaking Down Barriers

Running has done so much for me - physically, mentally, even spiritually, depending on your definition of spirituality. It's helped me get, and stay, in reasonably good shape. It's been a lifeline when I'm depressed; sometimes it's the only thing that gets me up and on my feet. And it's connected me to a larger community, an inclusive, welcoming community with common values and objectives. It's made me feel less alone.

One goal I have for this blog (assuming I don't fall of the blogging wagon again) is to share the "gospel of running," so to speak. ;-) That may sound a little silly, but I think running is one of many potential catalysts for personal change and growth; it's also one that happens to be relatively inexpensive and doesn't require much equipment. I realize that not everyone wants to run, and that other people use other activities - yoga, climbing, religion, therapy, etc. - as catalysts for change. But it's worth touting running as an option.

One reason I love running is because it breaks down so many internal and external barriers, allowing people to be more real and vulnerable with themselves and one another, and more accepting of differences. For instance:

1) In running, race, religion, sexual orientation, age, country of origin, political beliefs, etc. do not matter. They just don't. None of these factors have anything to do with the act of running. Running bypasses, if not destroys, superficial barriers that seem to cause so many problems in our world and that blind us to our common human experiences.

2) In running, weight and appearance do not matter. When I started running, I was embarrassed to run on city streets because I felt fat and thought people were laughing at me. Granted, it is possible that someone may have made fun of me - but certainly no other runner has ever taunted me. That is simply not the running way. True runners respect and encourage other runners - regardless of how they look or what their pace is - simply because they are challenging themselves. As for bystanders who make fun of a runner's appearance? ...Well, they're the ones just standing there, or sitting in their cars in morning traffic. Who are they to cast judgment?

If you're afraid to start running because you're worried about how you look, try to find a place where you feel at least a little safe from the eyes of others, like a quiet park. Better yet, migrate to where the experienced, dedicated runners work out, like a local track, because even if they're in better shape, there's at least a 99.9% chance that they're going to support you and respect you just for getting out there and putting one foot in front of the other.

3) In running, people understand that everybody poops! Run for a while and you will quickly discover that the usual societal taboos regarding bodily functions don't really apply in the running world. Pooping, passing gas, puking, intestinal distress, figuring out where to pee when there's no bathroom available - these are all topics that runners tend to discuss with enthusiasm. Most runners have their fair share of stories involving said topics, and most runners don't blink twice when their running buddies have issues with bodily functions during races or training runs. It goes with the territory. Run for a while and you are sure to encounter a situation where you regret last night's dinner or have to duck behind a tree.

Poop levels the playing field. Again, it's about shared human experiences.

4) In running, pace does not matter. Well, it does matter a little in that if you run with other people, you have to figure out a way to accommodate different speeds. Either you have to split up (which is fine - you're still running together in spirit), or someone has to run faster while someone else runs more slowly (also fine, as modifying your pace will offer an additional challenge to the workout). But generally speaking, runners recognize that it's about the personal challenge. For some, moving from a 10-minute-per-mile pace to a 9-minute pace is a huge accomplishment; for others, running 20 miles at a 9-minute pace is a relaxing run. The important thing is that people meet their own personal goals and, if they so choose, set their own personal records.

5) In running, there's not much room for faking it. Especially if you're pushing yourself. When you run, you're breathing harder, you're focusing on how your body feels and on how far (or how long) you've been running, and there's less room for worrying about what other people think of you. And that is a really good thing, especially when you run with other people. As I've mentioned before, I've had a tough time making and keeping friends because I'm very self-conscious. But with the people I run with, I have little choice but to be myself - even when that means I'm frustrated or tired or grouchy. They see me when I'm not at my best, and that vulnerability provides more fertile ground for these relationships to develop.

6) Running breaks down mental barriers and perceived limitations. This is one of my favorite things about running. When I started, I thought I couldn't run for 10 minutes without stopping. Then one day I did. I thought I couldn't run for 30 minutes without stopping. After a while, I could. I was sure I wouldn't be able to run a marathon. It was a struggle, but I crossed that finish line. Running gives me an opportunity to surpass my own expectations for myself, and that in turn gives me hope/confidence that maybe, just maybe, I can surpass my own expectations in other areas of my life. In this way, it's helped me see that I am capable of change and growth, even when I feel stuck.

Running as a way to mitigate depression and anxiety?

I've been away - not at the loony bin (though sometimes it's certainly a distinct possibility), but at a professional conference. Actually, wait. This professional conference IS like a loony bin, except that few of the people there actually recognize they have issues and the majority of them don't see psychiatrists. Same issues, less recognition. Always interesting.

Anyway, so first I was preparing for this conference (in the form of putting together a talk, which took a ridiculous amount of time and which put a spotlight on my poor graphic design/PowerPoint skills), and then I was at the conference, and then I was drinking and eating and giving my talk and reuiniting with people I hadn't seen in a while. And drinking more. 

Very little running was involved, unfortunately. I mean, I DID run, but they were relatively short workouts on the hotel treadmill. I should have run 18 miles on Sunday and it just didn't happen. Good thing I am in taper mode, since the marathon is in only 2.5 weeks away. I'm thinking of doing 18 miles this Sunday even though I suppose Hal Higdon would not approve. But would it really pose that much of a problem? I have two weeks after that to rest.

Speaking of running...

The last conference I went to was last June, and for whatever reason, it left me reeling and depressed. I don't know whether it was the stress of traveling, dealing with huge crowds of people, being away from my family, or what, but all of a sudden I went from feeling really stable (for the previous 4-5 months) to hitting bottom again. The situation was not good. At one point I wondered whether I might need to check myself into a hospital. The trigger seemed to be this academic conference experience. Thus, I was concerned that this very recent conference - which involved just as many people, almost as much traveling, and a strong dose of stress - might send me reeling down the same path.

Thankfully, it did not. I've been trying to figure out what the difference was between now and last June.

Things that are the same: I'm still taking an antidepressant, same dose. I'm still seeing my therapist every other week or so (actually less these days). Actually, if anything, the summer conference should have been less stressful: I wasn't teaching any classes at that point. I had to present at both meetings.

So what is different? The only major difference is that I'm now training for a marathon and attending butt-kicking barre classes on a regular basis. So could the extra exercise be at the root of this newfound stability (relatively speaking)? In a way, it seems counterintuitive. Marathon training itself takes a lot of dedication and a certain amount of sacrifice. It cuts into work time, family time, and rest time. Then add to that the barre workouts - if I do them 4 times a week, that's another 6 hours where I'm not really attending to my responsibilities. And yes, on a day-to-day basis, it does feel like a lot. I do feel the strain.

On the other hand, my immersion in these activities means that:

(1) I have more energy during the day and I sleep better at night.

(2) I have less time to worry/stress, because when I'm working out I'm very focused on the task at hand.

(3) I'm forced to make transitions more quickly. For instance, even if my mind WANTS to stay in work mode all evening, when I get to barre class, it simply can't. There's not enough energy for that.

(4) I have a better social life. I'm opening up more to RF, getting to know her friends, and starting to get to know the people at Xtend Barre.

Ultimately, I keep myself so occupied that I do not leave as much room for ruminating, worrying, planning, obsessing. I think that's a big part of it. Maybe I've been underestimating the positive long-term effects of exercise on my mental state. Maybe it's kind of like the antidepressants themselves: one pill here and there won't make much long-term difference; you have to take them every day if you want them to work, and they don't work right away. If you miss a day, it won't hurt you much so long as you get back on track the following day. Perhaps the influence of exercise on the brain is similar: the long-term consistency is key.

Change

I grew up in an environment that touted change - or important, life-altering change at any rate - as something that happens in an instant. You are given a choice, you make the right choice, that moment stands as The Moment When It All Changed Forever, and that was that. Change involves a single epiphany that then stands as sort of a North Star for life.

So I guess I've always had it in my head that I should be able to change immediately. It should be something I can will to happen right away, if I just try and believe hard enough. Mind over matter.

What I have come to understand is that change can be painfully, glacially slow, so slow that you can't see it happening in the moment. Rather, you can most easily see it when you reflect how you handle multiple instances of a particular situation or problem over many months or years or maybe decades. I spent a lot of time doing that last week while traveling: for instance, considering how I handled meeting new people three years ago (panic, self-consciousness, dissociation) versus how I handle meeting new people now (still shy and self-conscious, but I try to look people in the eye, smile, and hope that they will give me time to be myself, and I try very very hard to avoid spacing out). How I dealt with travel delays/cancellations three years ago (panic panic RED ALERT OMG I AM NOT IN CONTROL) versus how I handle them now (this sucks, but hey, did you say I get an upgrade to first class???) How I handled self doubt then (wow, you're such a moron, how can you even show your face) versus now (you're doubting yourself, and that's normal, but you have a lot to offer... Hang in there, you can do this).

I'm not saying I'm a whole new me or that my reactions to problems/dilemmas are always ideal, but... yeah, I see a change, and that change seems largely permanent. I have modified my habits and way of thinking to the point where I feel like I can live with myself. I even like myself a lot of the time. But again, it took a lot of time. And talking. And ugly emotional crises. And depressions. And cutting. And digging through unpleasant memories. And learning to trust certain people. And stepping back from the ledge (figuratively, but kind of literally, too) when I needed to.

I realize that life and experience are fluid, and that things won't always go as well as they are going now. But just knowing that change happens - albeit slowly - helps.

"Thanks to impermanence, everything is possible." - Thich Nhat Hanh

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In other news, marathon training continues. Yesterday I ran 5 miles on my own, and today I ran 8 miles with my training buddies. Tomorrow it's another five miles, followed by several miles on Saturday and (GULP) 18 miles on Sunday. Wow.

Running on the Space Coast

Yesterday my running friend (and good friend outside of running) and I signed up for our first marathon together: the Space Coast marathon in Cocoa, FL. It's near the Kennedy Space Center and the event has, not surprisingly, a space theme. People dress up as astronauts and aliens, and there are photo ops with space shuttles, rockets, and the like. We said we wanted a fun run; this fit the bill. She's excited, I'm excited, we're excited.

The SCM is in 11 weeks. Yeah, we made our decision a little late, which explains why we will be going 15 miles for our first long run this weekend. We've already had several people inform us that we are crazy/overly optimistic/out of touch with reality. But whatever. It's 15 miles. It's doable, and not just for sponsored superhero athletes. For regular people like me, too. We choose to look at it as taking half a day to do an enjoyable training run in the great outdoors in a city we both love.

Here's our training schedule. We'll likely need to make some schedule-based modifications to the shorter runs, but we are determined to stick to the long runs, the longest mid-week run, and the Saturday run:

Today was 7 miles, and we KILLED that run. Killed it. She was keeping track of the distance; I wasn't. I was truly surprised when we hit our goal because although it was challenging (as most runs are for me), it was also a lot of fun, and the time passed quickly.

Did I mention that I'm really, really excited?

Aside from the opportunity to challenge ourselves and spend time in a beautiful part of the country, one other very important aspect of this - for me, anyway - is that I'll be running this with a friend. A FRIEND. MY FRIEND. Two years ago I didn't have any friends. Yes, I had kinda-sorta acquaintances, but that was about it. Running has been the best thing for providing an atmosphere, an environment, where I can be myself - where I don't have much choice BUT to be myself, because I'm usually too tired to think about self censorship. When I run with people, I feel so much like myself that I don't even think about myself. Does that make sense?

Plus, I love poop jokes, other runners usually love poop jokes... It's the perfect arena in which to find like-minded individuals.

Tomorrow: 4 miler!

Group run! and pakora

My running group reconvened this morning for our first workout in at least six weeks. It was so good to be out there with my speedy girls again. With them, I can forget (or at least shove aside) any feelings of tiredness and laziness. They also make it easier to run in lovely 99.99% humidity, which was certainly the case today. They push me - maybe not intentionally, but they do. I want to keep up with them, and as a result, I've become a faster and more efficient runner.

*  *  *

The other night I decided to try making the vegan, gluten-free veggie pakora that my friend in Washington introduced me to. Granted, she didn't actually give me a recipe, so I improvised based on memory and a very limited knowledge of Indian cuisine.

First I cut up cauliflower, carrots, sweet potato, red potatoes, zucchini, and onion.

In a separate bowl, I mashed up a can of chickpeas; added cumin, coriander, turmeric, salt, pepper, a little dill, and a tbsp or so of hot sauce; dumped in some garbanzo bean-based GF flour (I had Bob's Red Mill on hand, but I think pretty much any fine flour would work); and added water until the mixture had the consistency of gloopy mud. 

Remember making mudpies? The mixture should feel/look sort of like that. Maybe a tad bit more watery. But it should definitely be a thick-ish batter, because otherwise your fried veggies will look sad and naked (I know because I ruined the first batch with a watery batter).

I poured canola oil into a small saucepan so that it was ~2 inches deep and heated it on medium-high. When the oil was hot, I carefully plopped the batter-covered veggies into the pan and let them sizzle away for ~5-10 minutes, until each piece was goldeny-brown.

Using a slatted spoon, I placed each piece onto a brown paper bag to soak up excess oil. That part isn't pretty.

(I'm not a food photographer, in case you couldn't tell.)

I served the pakora over brown rice to give the faint illusion of healthiness:

The cauliflower, potatoes, and carrots worked really well in this recipe. The zucchini - not so much. Next time, I think I'll add eggplant to the mix.