Running a life well-lived

One of my favorite races was last weekend on PEI: Freeze your Gizzard Half-Marathon in Montague. It was my fourth time running. This year, the weather was windy but mild so no gizzards were frozen.

A special thing happened to me at this race.  A thing which may never happen again. I broke the female course record of 1:29:59 with a 1:28:15 performance.

Originally, I didn’t think that I would write an official race report as I actually have very little to write. I had this magical race day where I didn’t think about much else other than executing my coach’s thorough race plan and climbing into the pain box the last 5-6km.

Photo credit Gemma Callaghan

I was lucky to run with PEI guy Cory Birch from 12km on which was awesome for both of us. I was chatting a bit with him and that was worth the few seconds it might have cost me.  Though I had promised myself that I would have a chatter-free race, I can’t run next to someone new and rely on their help without some chatting!  My sister held the spot of second place woman during the race. He told a funny story about racing his brother in a duathlon and carrying his bike the last 3 km to beat him. Luckily I didn’t have to carry anything on Sunday.

Back in the fall, when I agreed to coach my group of half marathon “Forever 21.1” women, my runner Gina told mutual friend David K that I was going to be her coach. She sent me a text saying, “I told David that you were going to be my coach and he said….”  That was the end of the text preview on my iPhone’s screen. I try not to be on my phone when I’m with my kids and I put it away until the kids were in bed while wondering what David might have said.

When I opened the text later and it read:

“oh my god, she’s gonna show you how to crawl into the pain box.”

What followed from Gina was:

“I don’t know what this pain box is, but I do not like the sound of it, hahaha.”

So I laughed and shook my head.  There were many things he could have said re my coaching and this was what he chose!

The “pain box” at km 16 or 17

For this half marathon, I had thought carefully about my trip into the pain box.  Coach’s instructions were to get in and get familiar with the hurt before Boston Marathon, my goal race. So I did. The pain box was good to me. I was worried that I might fall over the last 2km-  I was dizzy and low on fuel but was able to keep pushing. I was also able to successfully pushed back the “central governor” who was trying to sound alarm bells that this is “dangerous and too risky.” It was actually my most successful shutting-up of the central governor ever. I had new shoes on from my beloved Salam Hashem and he assured me that a special feature sole/forefoot feature on these 20th anniversary Asics DS Trainers would enhance gripping and help push the ground back on push off, giving me extra power, “These will be very good,” he said, “you will run fast and you will win.” For awhile, I was mentally imagining myself crushing the central governor into the ground using the rubber of the forefoot on each pushoff.

I had to idea what the clock was going to show when I got to the finish line as I hadn’t looked at my watch clearly since 10km.  I had a brief thought of training buddy Jamie who is still riding me about missing my sub-39 10km by 10 seconds. Then I was so excited when I saw it said 1:28 and not 1:29.

While I certainly put the work in to make this day happen, I feel fortunate to have had this day.  I feel fortunate to truly enjoy our sport. I feel fortunate to run with a coach that stresses enjoyment before results (though his training produces results).

In the month of February, I had 3 separate non-running people in my life gush about “how do you have the energy to do all this training and take care of your children and work full time, blah, blah, blah….”

Then we had this rather silly discussion among my roadrunners group about how many beers was acceptable at the Red Sox game the day before Boston Marathon. I briefly thought about the equation between beer and wasting all the sacrifices I have made this training cycle to be as fit as possible. Then I stopped and thought more. “Sacrifices.”  Those aren’t even my words.  They are words that I assume belong to the people who look at my life and make assumptions about my energy and assumptions about what I might be sacrificing to parent, work and train.

I do all four of these things: parenting, marriage, running and working full time.  Each of them individually makes me better at the other three. I haven’t sacrificed anything. Rather, I’ve made room in my life for the things that I love to do. That’s a life well-lived.

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Fredericton Marathon on Mother’s Day

This past weekend was the Fredericton Marathon as well as my second Mother’s Day as a mom.  I’ve been training for this half marathon since I was pregnant with my now 12 month old daughter.

I haven’t posted on here in almost a year. I’ve been doing a fair amount of writing for a project for my daughter but I haven’t found my way to this blog. Given that this site contain the details of my training during pregnancy, it feels natural that these words go here.

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Luck and good fortune were the most resounding themes of my Mother’s Day race weekend. I’m blessed to be my beautiful daughter’s mother. I’m lucky to have had the opportunity to travel to this race. Three of my favourite mamas and I piled into my hatchback on Saturday morning for a girls’ race weekend road trip. We left 11 kids behind with 4 wonderful husbands/dads. I’m lucky to have a partner who supports me 100% and is a terrific dad. I’m lucky to have these 3 girls in my life.

They say that your social life changes when you have a baby.  For me, this was true. I’m so fortunate that becoming a mother brought Shauna, Tonya and Sarah into my life in a closer way. We spent our maternity leaves together (well, Shauna’s youngest boys are 2 and she works part-time so it was like she was on maternity leave). How lucky that we spent time together with the kids and also ran together, encouraged other and supported each other.

I’m lucky to have running: to have an outlet that helps me balance myself so that I can be the best mom and wife possible. As race weekend loomed, I felt lucky to train with coach Cliff who maximizes the modest talent that I have for running.

Our communities are lucky to have events like Fredericton race weekend. To have an outlet that brings out the best of humanity for five+ hours on a Sunday morning. As a fellow racer said to Tonya during the race, while chatting about what a great day it was to race: “we are so lucky to be alive.” In the wake of the Boston Marathon bombings, we runners feel this profoundly. We are lucky to be alive to do what we love, surrounded by those we love.

I was lucky to toe the line of this race in the best shape of my life, ready to make a run at breaking the 1:30 half-marathon barrier: an ambitious goal set during pregnancy.

So here we are in Fredericton. Tonya and I are running the half marathon. Sarah’s doing the full. Shauna is racing the 10km.

We go out for wine and pasta on Saturday night. At the restaurant, we talk about our races, our strategies, how we are feeling. It’s our final mental preparation.

“Can you please run hard enough,” the girls ask me.

“I want to see you delirious at the finish line for once,” says Tonya.

I don’t know if I race hard enough. They say “no.” I set a PB of 19:09 at the Lung Run 5km in April and they said that I looked too good at the finish line. But Cliff told me to run 19:10 so I that’s what I did.

This time, Cliff told me to run 4:12-4:15/km which would bring me in sub-90 minutes. It’s an out-and-back course. He said to get to 10km and then to “go” (run hard until finish with less focus on splits). He said that if anything, he thought I would get to 16km and realized that I could have pushed harder.

My girls don’t want me to do this, get to 16km and realize I had too much left. I made a paceband for 4:12/km pace and we decide that I shouldn’t wear it lest I use it to restrain myself. I should just go for it.

Heading to the start line

Race morning is fun. We pin Tonya’s yellow daisies in our hair. We walk to the start line together. We warm up. Sarah starts first and we wish her well with our joke from a RW’s article about US running stars Kara Goucher and Shalane Flanagan. We tell Sarah what Kara and Shalane told each other at the Olympic Marathon: “Sarah, go and eff sh*t up!”

Tonya and I line up about 30 seconds before the gun. Then we are off. The start is calm and controlled and I hit my first km exactly where I want to be: 4:12. I know that fast Halifax runners Leah and Emily are up ahead along with another young girl and an older woman. I’m in 5^thplace.

I run easily and knock off the early kms at 4:12-4:14 with minimal effort and not much use of my Garmin. I’m exactly 21:00 at 5km and have overtaken both the young girl and the older woman to run in 3^rd place. I know that I won’t see the girls in 1^st and 2^nd. I enjoy the trail. I’m looking for 10km. I’m feeling slightly anxious about running recklessly after 10km.

I’m having a terrible time at the water stations. At the 3km station, I called for water but all of the volunteers on my side had Gatorade and the last volunteer didn’t give me the cup of Gatorade when I reached for it. No drink for Erin. At the 6km station, I’m already hungry and open my first gel. I eat most of it then reach for water and the volunteer drops it. I grab for another cup and this volunteer pushes it into my hand and it spills. I finally successfully grab a cup of water and there’s almost no water in it. Just one mouthful. I sort-off wash my gel down and keep trucking.

I hit 10km @ 42:10. This is good. But it’s not the turnaround like I think so I keep running controlled. For the last 5km, I’ve been passing marathoners who had a 10-minute head start.  The pack of marathoners is getting thicker as the trail gets narrower. Then the lead marathoners start running on my left back to the start. The space on trail gets halved. I see Sarah and I’m so excited! I feel ready for the turnaround and to start running hard back to the finish. I finally get a decent cup of water at the turnaround.

I continue to knock off splits between 4:12-4:15/km but it’s feeling hard to do this because the course is so busy. People are running 2 and 3 abreast, leaving me very little room to get around them with oncoming runner traffic to my left. I’m feeling mad and I don’t want to waste precious energy being mad. I see Tonya, yay! I realize that I forgot to look for the older woman in 4^th. For the last few kilometres, she and a young guy had been pulling up to me then backing off.

At kilometre 13, the older woman and young guy pull in front of me. I feel fine with this and tuck in behind them and just run. I’m running fast. I feel scared. I’ve never run fast like this before. The logical voice in my racer’s brain is beginning to become hypoxic and hypoglycaemic but is still logical enough to tell me not to be scared, to just run. So I do.

I’m hungry. I’m waiting for a water stop, where is it? I see a group of people up ahead and feel relief.  I can have my second gel now (I need water to wash it down). I rip it open with my teeth and greedily eat half of it. Yum. I get to the water stop and it’s not a water stop. It’s just a group of people. I get to the next kilometre marker and am confused when it reads 14 and not 15. I try to relax and stick with the old lady. The course is at least finally less congested and it’s just the 3 of us.

I think of Sarah. Sarah says she’s going to split through half at 1:40 so I have to catch her on the course before I finish in sub-1:30. I start to repeat, “Sarah” over and over again. This is good. Unlike the kilometre markers, “Sarah” is not confusing.

I reach the 15km marker but no water stop. I’m still tucked in behind the woman and her boy. I’m happy there’s only 5km to go, that’s one interval in a workout. But 15 + 5 doesn’t = 21.1. Sh*t. I can’t think of my daughter yet, it’s too early.  I’m starting to lose it every so slightly but I’m not thinking clearly enough to realize it.  My Garmin tells me that my split is 4:20.

There’s finally water at 16km and I finally get a decent cup of Gatorade in my hands and in my mouth. But the old lady pulls away from me here. I try to rally my faculties. What do I need to do? I need to run. Hard. Five to go.

There’s another water stop in less than 1 km and I almost barf. I think that this is ok, barfing means you’ve run hard enough. But I would prefer to save barfing for  the finish, thank you. I believe my goal is still fine so I run. But I haven’t had enough water or fuel and I’m wandering.

I wander to 18.5km and I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m looking at the numbers on my watch but I can’t figure out what they mean and I decide it’s not important. But now, with 10 minutes to go, I allow myself to think of my daughter and run for her. I replace “Sarah” with her name and I run hard. It feels hard.

There are African drummers at kilometre 20 and I tell myself that they are just for me. I ran across an African country, I can sure as hell run this last kilometre hard for my baby. I run. I know I will see Shauna soon. There she is where you turn off the trail onto the finishing stretch.

She’s yelling at me to finish fast so I obey. I see the clock at 1:29:15 and I’m surprised that it’s so late. I have no concept of how far the finish line is from where I see it. I run as hard as I can. I cross the line at 1:29:54.

I did it with 5 seconds to spare. I had no idea that I was cutting it so close. Shauna attacks me with a hug. I feel happy. I feel scared that I almost blew it and didn’t even know.

I don’t dwell on this too long; we have Tonya and Sarah to cheer home.

As happens in a long race, I ran into a few variables were out of my control: the water stations and resultant lack of fuel and hydration as well as the congestion on the course.

We all went out there and did the best we could on this day.

The post-pregnancy fitness boom is real (more about that later. maybe).

The fitness boost from training with and supporting your girlfriends is real.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Race results here

Will Running Help Parenting?

Like me, I’m sure that most first-time expectant parents think about what it will be like to be a parent.  Will you be a good parent?  How hard is it going to be?  By what margin will the joy outweigh the hard days?

I’ve worked with youth for my entire almost 10 year nursing career; the last 4 years in more of a counseling role with teenagers.  I’ve learned a lot about what makes a good parent.  Actually, that’s not true.  I’ve learned the most about what makes a poor parent.  Some key parenting things, or rather the absence of some key parenting things seems to make a difference.  In my observation, in no particular order these “things” are:

• Meals together
• Food in the house for school lunches
• Transportation to sports and extracurricular events
• Attendance and support at sports and extracurricular events
• Fair rules that are enforced, including a curfew and prohibition of romantic partner sleepovers
• Active interest in the youth’s peer group
• Active interest in homework and study completion
• Avoidance of full blown parental conflict in front of kids
• Consistent demonstration the kid is more important than the internet, facebook, tv etc.

I was lucky to have all of these things growing up (thanks Mom and Dad). This is a short and non-comprehensive list.  And it’s for teenagers. My child won’t be a teenager for more than a decade.

with 6 year old Lamin "More Fire" Suso

Can Running Help?

I’ve been thinking about this question, will I be a good parent, in context of being a runner.  I think that there may be some parallels between being a good runner and being a good parent. Perhaps some aspects of being a good runner will help me become a good parent. Some of the lessons I’ve learned from running may help me in this next chapter of my life. Maybe I’m onto something. Or maybe not.  But here goes.

Related Concept #1: Runners Run. Parents Parent.

The end.

Just joking.

Here is what I think related to this. I’ve begun many training cycles with competitive goals: 3 consecutive Boston Marathons, shorter fall races, the distance of a hot African country.  In the midst of a training cycle, with a competitive goal loaming, you run; you train; you perform track workouts that you do not enjoy because your coach says to; you do your strength exercises even though you hate them; you work your butt off literally and figuratively and eat a foolish number of calories to maintain a competitive butt weight.

The Ice Bath: no one really wants to do this

You sacrifice things in the midst of a hard training cycle. You pass on that second glass of wine. You choose bed instead of a late movie with your friends. You give up a relaxing weekend morning to run 2-2.5 hours every weekend for 16-18 weeks.  You don’t eat bacon and eggs for breakfast. You are late for supper with your partner because you at the track busting out 10 x 1km with your training partners because you can’t do that workout alone.

You run in a different way than you do when you are running for yourself, for fun, without a competitive goal.  With a competitive goal, you’ll wake up on a Wednesday at 6am. You have a 10km recovery run to do before work just like every other Wednesday.  It’s raining.  Or snowing. You do not want to run. You want to roll over in your warm bed and sleep until 7am. But you get yourself out of bed and you run anyway.  Your weekly mileage total depends on this easy run.  Your performance at the track the next day depends on this easy run, on its recovering nature.

A runner runs, even when she doesn’t want to.

You do all of this because that’s what it takes to achieve success.

And because a runner runs even when she doesn’t want to.

This is the trait that might help me parent my child.  I have a long history of doing things, hard things, hard runs, that I don’t always want to do.  But I do them anyway, with minimal complaint, in the greater pursuit of success.  I’m sure that there will be moments when I don’t really want to do child-rearing activity ‘x.’ But I know that I’ll be able to do it, with minimal complaint.

A parent parents, even when she doesn’t want to.

Related Concept #2: No hard work, no pay off.

Awesome kids don’t grow themselves.  Awesome personal bests don’t set themselves. Both require a lot of hard work.

I didn’t make it 424km across a hot African country by sitting on the couch.  I made it by training and running 6 days a week for 7months.  Hard work was how I made my dream of running clear across The Gambia possible. Hard work is how I set my racing personal bests.

I’ve been both a 4:05 marathoner and a 3:18 marathoner. I’ve been both a 2:06 half marathoner and a 1:33 half marathoner. The biggest difference between these two versions of myself?  Hard work. Dedication to my training. Running when I don’t feel like running because that’s what runners do.

Maybe putting in the hard work for the future pay off applies to raising a child. You can’t just sit on the couch hoping or waiting for a child to become a good, successful and well-adjusted child.  You invest in your child, you put in the hard work of parenting and you give them the best chance possible to be successful.

Related Concept #3: Limits of the human body

Winter 2011

The human body was born to run. It was born to run in the heat. It was born to run in the snow. It was born to run long distances.

I know these facts to be true as I’ve lived their truth pounding the pavement for many years.

The human body was also born to deliver babies and to care for babies.  I’ve brushed against the limits of the human body many times with sneakers on my feet and stretches of road ahead of me.  I’ve developed a lot of mental and physical strength over my many years of running. I feel like this is the evidence that I need to know and believe that my body can deliver this baby.  My body can handle the sleep deprivation of caring for an infant.

Many people have asked me how I feel about giving birth.  People began asking me, as early as the day that I announced my pregnancy, if I had a birth plan?  Some want to know if I’ll opt to use drugs or if I’ll go for a natural birth.  Most of these people are “ladies” (read more here).

I always give them a vague answer, indicating that I haven’t thought it through, haven’t made a “birth plan” (whatever that is) but that I feel like I’ll be quite ok in labour. Many of these people look at me skeptically.  I try to explain that I’ve been a distance runner for many years, I feel like it’s been good preparation for childbirth.  The skeptical look remains.  Sometimes they are outright dismissive of my assertion that I think that I can deal with labour because I’ve dealt with the pain of late miles in a marathon; with the evil voice that tries to make you stop running; that I am so familiar with pain that I can differentiate fatigue based pain from hardwork and pain from cellular damage

Only one beautiful soul spared me from skepticism. My friend and colleague Melanie Breen, a mother of two, wanted to talk a little bit about childbirth.  “You are going to be really good at this,” Melanie told me.  “All of your running, your yoga, your mental strength and experience is going to serve you so well.”

I said nothing for a few long seconds and then responded, “You are the first person who had said that to me.  I keep trying to tell other people that.”  Then she hugged me.  And I felt good.

Related Concept #4: Hope and belief in something that’s really flimsy

Success in running and racing is flimsy. That’s the word I like for this: flimsy.

A runner can have the best possible training cycle under the best coach with very few missed days for injury and lots of confidence and belief in themself.  And then they can still flop on race day. I know, this happened to me this year at Boston Marathon.

Near perfect training. Healthy body. Healthy mind. Super husband, on the course to cheer for me. Super coach, on the course to cheer for my team and I.  My coach was fully confident that I was ready to run 3:10. I was fully confident. The weather was perfect. The wind was at my back. It should have been my day. Then the race began and I mentally blew up and blew my goal.  You can read more in the race recap I wrote the following day here.

Even with near-perfect conditions in both training and on race day, the race itself has no guarantees.  More things can go wrong than can go right. There is no guarantee that if you do “all of these things” then you will run 3:10.  Or whatever your race goal is. It’s flimsy.

But you do it anyway, knowing the risk of failure is present. You choose to believe in yourself, over and over, and you tie up your shoes and toe the line again because you believe that one of those times, it is going to be your day.  And you’ll miss it if you don’t accept the risk of failure and get out there and try.

This requires a strong foundation of belief in yourself. I made it across a country in running shoes with this belief.  Before I set off from that farm field in Senegal, I knew that some people thought that I would never make it.  Some of these people told me before my run began; some admitted it to me after.  But the thing was, it didn’t matter what they thought or what they believed. I made it to the Atlantic Ocean 424km later only because I believed that I could do it.  My belief was the only one that mattered.

My friend Kecouta Sonko's baby girl Awa in Senegal

Maybe this acceptance of risk and failure and belief in yourself helps with parenting. Maybe you do the best you can, believe in yourself as much as you can and give it your best shot while understanding that there are tons of other variables at work making your end goal- a race PB, a happy, healthy, well-adjusted child- flimsy. As a parent-to-be, if you don’t take a risk and chose to do it, you probably miss out on something really great; something way better than a race PB.

At the end of the day

That’s all I have. Four loosely related traits that I’ve grown throughout my running career that may serve me as I make the plunge into parenthood. We’ll be first time parents.  We will learn. My husband and I are a strong team. This baby was planned and we love this kid a lot already.  These must count for something.

I’m terribly sensitive to unsolicited advice, but feel free to let me know what you think.

Hot in Africa: a list + Pa’s running

Day 11. 25km today, 256km total!  Banjul Calling!

Kalagi River Camp, 5pm

Today was a really strong day for me.  I easily got into my groove where time disappears and I met my fluid/get target with just a moderate amount of work.

I didn’t have any kids or mamas running with me today but I did have Pa Modou Super Sarr!  Pa ran a HALF MARATHON today!!! 22km total in fact.

I am so proud of him.  This achievement was a pleasant surprise to me and having him continue to push next to me made my running so easy. In my opinion, Pa conquered his first half marathon distance with a perfect mix these 5 variables: (1) athleticism (2) raw running talent (3) stubbornness (4) willpower: Banjul is calling and each step brings us close (5) competitiveness: desire to beat Kebba to this milestone.

One day this week during rest, I was lying under a tree on a farm and the rest of the team was in the truck- it was the day I was sick. A male farmer and his donkey cart came riding towards me and the farmer was yelling really loudly in Mandinka.  I didn’t move an inch, I wanted to die.  The guys said later that I was lying in the direct path that the donkey always takes onto the road and the donkey was quite inclined to stubbornly take his natural path to the road and run me over.  Obviously, the guys and the farmer stopping this collision from occurring.  I told Kebba and Pa today that they are stubborn just like this donkey J  Ashley and I have both given up trying to encourage them to use common sense when deciding how far to run each day.

Stubborn or not, huge congrats to Pa for his running strength today and the strength he shared with me.  I haven’t run a single step alone since my birthday.

Body report:

My legs were really comfortable today. I’ve just run 100km in 4 days.  I am as surprised as you.  They are just willing to do the work. My toe blister has somehow healed. The only tight spot is on the arch of my left foot.  I stopped wearing my arch molds (hard insoles) because I was concerned that they were making my right knee hurt. My right knee is no longer hurting. My left foot rolls in slightly and I’m not concerned about this tightness in the arch- I’ve been rolling it with a tennis ball. We are also back on the dirt road which has been nice to legs.

I haven’t posted my Garmin data in quite a few days because it requires a lot of internet time and the computer is hot. Additionally, it seems that my computer and Garmin are no longer communicating to each other and I can’t fix this without internet juice.

My weight is slightly down at 117 lb today after being sick 2 days ago. I just ate 3 chocolate bars.

To round out today’s post, Ashley and I have prepared an “it’s so hot” list.  I’ll preface this by telling you that I am dealing really well with the heat while running. My body’s cooling system operates very well and the heat isn’t the challenge that I thought it would be.  That being said, we are hot the rest of the non-running day. Hot like this:

1. It’s so hot that Ashley and I are wearing pajamas/underwear at present and we spend most of our non-running day this like in the privacy of our room
2. It’s so hot that while at our last base camp in Soma, where there is no electricity during the day, the shower water felt hot because the sun heats the water in the pipes so much
3. It’s so hot that I need to type this post in a word document and post it on the internet a few hours later because the laptop emits so much heat that you can only sit with it for 15 minutes at a time
4. It’s so hot that Ashley can’t apply nailpolish to her toes properly because it dries with each swipe
5. It’s so hot that sometimes I can’t run with my sunglasses on because they trap heat behind them
6. It’s so hot that even Kebba is hot
7. There isn’t enough Vaseline in Africa to keep my skin intact. Chafing, chafing, chafing. Toes. Shoulders from hydration pack. Shirt pockets. Armpits.  I will never laugh at my Nova Scotia boys again about the bloody shirt run
8. It’s so hot that we try not to take our 20 minute water breaks in villages because the people and the huts raise the air temperature
9. It’s so hot that the puddles emit heat as you run over
10. It’s so hot that a ponytail or bun is required. I tried to wear my hair in pigtails once and the heat under each pigtail was too much to handle

So Canadians, stay cool and keep sending us your love.  We love your messages.

 

ASICS Speedstars ARE Stars!

I love ASICS.  I love the way their sneakers hug my feet with the just the right amount of hug.  Like a hug from your sister.  Not a hug from your best friend after a one-year separation and not a hug from an awkward male relative.  I love the way they feel when you go for your first run in a new pair.  The GEL® is one of my favorite features and, in a new pair, I feel like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, like I could bounce my way home on a 32km run.

Asics Speedstars

Recently, the ASICS Speedstars (aka pink panthers) came into my life through amazing sponsorship by Aerobics First and ASICS.  I ran my first race with them at the PEI Freeze Your Gizzard Half Marathon.  The Speedstars are considered lightweight training shoes, not racing flats.

 

Advantages of Lightweight Trainers:

Training and racing in lightweight trainers can provide a few advantages.  When running a race of any length, a weight drop of only a few ounces can make you run faster as you can cover more distance with less effort. Most experts agree that reducing the weight of your running shoe can shave 1.0-1.5 seconds per mile for every ounce of weight saved.  For example, I train in ASICS GEL- 1160s, which weigh about 9.5 ounces per shoe.  I now race in Asics GEL-Speedstar, which weigh about 7.5 ounces per shoe.

The difference of 2 ounces per shoe should help me shave 2-3 seconds per mile off of my race times.  Not very much, you think?  Over the course of a marathon, that amounts to a savings of about 52-80 seconds.  Pretty much one full minute!  Any runner chasing a BQ or PB knows how valuable one minute is.

Runners must beware though, the lighter you go (and the longer the race), the greater the potential risk of injury.  If you are thinking about switching to a lighter shoe for racing, you should make sure that you don’t have any injuries and gradually get used to running in them.  Before the Freeze Your Gizzard Half Marathon, I ran 3 x 15km workouts in the Speedstars. I’ll run up to 2.5 hours in my new Speedstars before Boston Marathon.

Let me tell you about some of the Speedstars’ Best Features

1. Tigger-bounce, aka GEL® Cushion System

In the rearfoot of the Speedstar you find the GEL® Cushion System which absorbs shock during impact phase and allows for a smooth transition to midstance.  The GEL® Cushion System is the one feature that drives my Asics brand loyalty.  Some racers feel really flat, like your foot is right on the road.  I love feeling the GEL® in a lightweight racer.

In order to keep the shoe light, ASICS uses SoLyte® midsole material, a midsole compound that is lighter than ASICS standard EVA and SpEVA®.  This keeps me loyal as it light yet provides cushioning and durability.

2. Super light = Fast!

The Speedstars tip the scale at 7.4 ounces. Factors such as the above mentioned SoLyte® midsole material keep them light.  This may help me save as much as 80 seconds in the Boston Marathon.  During the Freeze Your Gizzard Half Marathon, they felt as light as socks.  In this, my first race with the Speedstars, I won the women’s field!  Obiviously the Speedstars ARE stars!  See here for more on that race.

 3. Upper Mesh

The upper is open mesh, which provides excellent breathability so feet stay cool and dry.  Let me translate this for you in Canadian winter running lingo.  When it’s hovering around zero, snow melts into large sidewalk puddles.  When you put your foot directly in a large puddle full of shocking cold water, it soaks your foot.  As long as you’re wearing quality socks, the Speedstar mesh allows your foot to dry quickly so that you are not sloshing around in a cold squishy mess until you get home 12 km later.

4. 3M Reflective Material

I must include this for its comical irony.  ASICS has kindly included 3M reflective material in the Speedstar- a thoughtful gesture to enhance your visibility on the road.  Helping keep runners safe. However, let me now point out that the HOT PINK color pretty effectively guarantees your visibility on the road.  In fact, the hot pink color has the capacity to stop traffic (evidence Saturday, Feb 19: 2 separate cars slowed, honked at me, pointed at my feet and gave me thumbs up while I was down at Maringal Rd Seaport).  However, the Speedstars come in colors other than hot pink so this is an important safety feature.

Toe-off after smooth transition from heel to forefoot

Spider, Erin and ASICS Nimbus in Africa

Like many runners, I have a shoe saga.  I originally ran in Asics Nimbus and was in Tigger-heaven.  I ran in these for several pairs, left a pair in Africa with my running partner’s happy sister, and then began training in 2008 to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  During this 2008 winter training cycle, I developed arch pain in my left foot.  I learned that my left foot pronated (rolled inward) causing stress and strain along the muscles that lift my big toe, into my calf.  The pain persisted through excellent physiotherapy treatment.  So I switched to the Asics 1140s– a shoe with a medial post to control pronation.  My arch pain improved.  I qualified for Boston at the 2008 Fredericton Marathon.

In the fall of 2008, my arch pain returned.  I added Arch Molds, over the counter running insoles that provided extra stability to prevent my left foot from rolling inward.  I ran ok for a bit.  Then the pain came back and was again unresponsive to physiotherapy- logical because the pain was originating from my pronation and treating muscles doesn’t fix pronation.  I saw talented pedorthist (and Love4Gambia sponsor) Freeman Churchill and began to run in custom orthotics.  I set a personal best of 3:32:36 at Boston Marathon that year.

During my 2010 Boston Marathon training cycle, I began to train with Coach Matt Sheffield through Aerobics First.  Freeman had been trying to get me to clean up some aspects of my stride but I only saw Freeman for short periods in his office.  Now Matt was with me 2 nights a week, watching me run.  I worked really hard with him to improve a few aspects of my stride- running taller through the hips and landing on the balls of my feet. I began to run faster.  And more efficiently.  And then I began to notice new muscular problems popping up in my glutes.  Curious, I took out my orthotics and the glute problems disappeared.  But then my arch hurt.  I put the Arch Molds back in and felt perfect. A puzzle. I went back to see Freeman and learned that I in fact no longer needed orthotics. I had cleaned my stride up enough, had improved my biomechanical efficiency enough, that I no longer required orthotics.  He “blessed” sneakers with use of Arch Molds.  Given my newfound efficiency, I was brave enough to try out the lighter weight Asics DS Trainer and I had the run of my life at Boston that year: 3:19:37.

I’ve been training and racing happily with a combo of ASICS 1150s/1160s and a lightweight trainer and Arch Molds since.