Yesterday I did something I hadn't done in many, many months: power yoga . I was once a regular of these classes, but I'd made a decision prior to my marathon training to keep only one yoga class per week, and that was my ashtanga yoga class. While ashtanga is essentially a power practice, it is a set series of poses, and it incorporates more flexibility (much to my liking) than most power classes do. Since completing my marathon , I've been thinking of ways to improve my training regimen. The last plan got me through, but I feel like it barely got me through. I knew all along that I was not doing enough strength training, but I was so focused on making my running goals that all else fell by the wayside. In retrospect, I think many of my injuries and near injuries could have been prevented or helped if I had just done the dang strength training. Also, in my 20/20 hindsight, I realized that my injuries--while never severe--were all from repetitive movements that created s...

I've been waiting for my feelings to settle before posting, as they seem to be changing each day that passes after the marathon. But I don't want to wait so long that I forget the important things. (The fact that I'm not concise enough to make a top-ten list is bothersome to me, too, but all eleven points felt important enough to include). Above all, I am proud of myself. I set a goal--a very challenging one--and I met it. I didn't get injured. While I was hurting in many and varied ways throughout the process, I remained intact and stayed healthy until the very end. It was difficult. As much as I'd hoped I would feel happy and relaxed during the marathon, I didn't. It was a grueling race, and I struggled through most miles. I could have pushed harder. This is a tough thing to admit. I did take some walk breaks when pain/stiffness/nausea felt unbearable, and in retrospect, I think I could have pushed past that.  I abused the aid stations . I know this...

I'm en route to Chicago, floating among the puffs of clouds and just a hand reach away from the bright, burning sun. Other runners are on my flight. I know this by their promotional garb, worn proudly, and I realize that I forgot my own t-shirt that my mom and her sisters sent me as a gift of support and encouragement. I kick myself for forgetting the shirt, but I'm soon reminded of the many different people in my life who helped get me here. There is my running group, who by their mere presence and their own achievements have encouraged and enhanced my training for the past several months; my family, who has offered support and comfort in uncountable ways throughout this process; my coworkers, who have cheered me on for each weekend's long run and cared enough to inquire about my progress along the way; and my friends, who have at times trained with me, commiserated with me, and offered their hospitality during my stay in the Windy City. While I'm going to this race ...