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Month: November 2019

Running books recommendations for 2019

Running books recommendations for 2019

The internet is awash this time of year with “best of” gift guides for everyone in your life, so in the interest of not reinventing the wheel, I’m opting out. I mean, realistically, I haven’t used a ton of new gear or worn a lot of new apparel or shoes this year, so I don’t have much to add to the conversation.

However — surprise, surprise — there was a lot of good running lit that came out this year, so below, please find my year-end recommendations. Everything below came out this year, and I’ve already recapped just a couple of these here on le blog. Oh — I’m linking to Amazon for all these titles, but nothing is affiliate (read: I make no money from these recommendations if you purchase through Amazon). Support your local library or bookstore instead. 🙂

Happy Thanksgiving! xoxo

nothing to do with the content of this post, but I just like that I caught her mid-stroke (mid-meet) smiling. She’s onto the science that smiling lessens your rate of perceived exertion! #science

The Happy Runner – by David and Dr. Megan Roche. Such an excellent book. The Happy Runner gives it to you straight (no one cares about your PRs; what matters more is that you’re a good person) but will leave you feeling empowered and emboldened to be the very best version of yourself — off and on the trails. The Roches are dynamic individuals, incredibly talented runners, and have so much sagacious insight into training, racing, and running — through the highest of highs and lowest of lows — and this is a book that should every runner should read at least once. I loved reading this and even bought a copy when it first came out. So, so good. (Here’s my review from a couple months ago.)  

Rebound – by Carrie Jackson Cheadle and Cindy Kuzma – Another good one. This just came out a month or so ago (my recap is here), and this is a book worth having/gifting because it’s doing what very few other books in the running lit world are doing — talking about how to be and/or become mentally resilient during injury. A lot of books in running lit right now are talking about mental strength and resilience during workouts and races (when it’s important), but very few talk about how to develop that skill when you’re injured and on the mend. This is another good book for runners, particularly if they’re injured or coming back to the sport after some time off. No one wants to think about a time when they may not be able to run (temporarily or forevermore), but it’s good to have the tools in your toolkit because they’re transferable to other (non-running) areas of your life.  

Running Home – by Katie Arnold. This autobiography was a really incredible read and actually felt pretty cathartic. Arnold was a recent winner at Leadville, so she talks about her trails and ultra training (and quick development and ascent in the sport) throughout this book. Perhaps more importantly, she interweaves her training anecdotes with her grieving her dad’s death (due to kidney cancer, if I recall correctly), while also figuring out the cluster and mystery that is motherhood, and it’s hard not to grieve alongside her. Her book is both powerful and memorable because it shows how important running can be to an individual’s life, more than simply fast times and impressive race finishes. Arnold hit the podcast circuit this past summer, shortly after her book came out, and if you enjoy her book, definitely hunt down all her recent podcast interviews. It’ll only deepen your appreciation of her work that much more.

Running with Sherman – by Christopher McDougall. I’m almost through this right now, and honestly, I had no idea I’d ever be rooting for a donkey so much in my life. McDougall wrote Born to Run, which probably every runner has read at least once, so it was fun to read something new by him — and about a donkey he adopted, no less. It’s an inspiring and uplifting read and one that will leave runner readers laughing and smiling throughout (and like I said, cheering for a donkey). I’ll finish it in the next few days and am actively avoiding all his interviews about the book because I really don’t know what’s going to happen next.

S. Rim was closed for a few weeks in ARP, so I was happy to be back when it opened up. (again: nothing to do with the content of this post).

The Passion Paradox – by Brad Stuhlberg and Steve Magness. Many readers will know Stuhlberg and Magness from their recent work Peak Performance, and if readers liked PP, they’ll like the second PP. Passion Paradox is structured much like Peak Performance, with the authors drawing on interdisciplinary research to support their claims, and Passion illuminates and differentiates how not all “passions” are inherently beneficial. It’s a great read and one from which runners, athletes, artists, entrepreneurs, and more would benefit from reading. The authors are a great team. (Their weekly newsletter, which they send out each Thursday morning, is also fantastic and carries my recommendation). 

Life is a Marathon – by Matt Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald has probably 20+ titles to his name, so chances are high that runners have read at least one of his works in the past five years (probably How Bad Do You Want It?, if I had to guess). Life is a Marathon is autobiographical and talks openly about his initially-strained marriage (thanks in part to his wife’s then-undiagnosed mental illness) and how running helped him endure his marital struggles and helped him be supportive and understanding. It also explores Fitzgerald’s nationwide quest to run marathons and find out why, exactly, runners of all different shapes, sizes, speeds, and experience keep flocking to this distance. It’s a great read and again, much like Katie Arnold’s autobiography, shows how for most people, running is much more than miles and finish times. (I’m looking forward to his work coming out in 2020 about his time training with NAZ Elite before his Chicago race a couple years ago, where he earned a huge PR). 

SJ is prettiest in the mornings and from above

Range – by David Epstein. You may recognize Epstein’s name from some of his recent work (such as The Sports Gene or the story about the women with the rare, mutated gene disease). Range isn’t so much a follow-up to The Sports Gene (in a way that Peak Performance and Passion Paradox are), but I think it’s a book that will continue to challenge the way we think about the merits (or demerits) of specialization versus generalization for many, many years to come. His ideas apply to how we approach sports (particularly youth sports), careers, and higher education (among others). It’s pretty eye-opening and a read from which I can all but promise you that you’ll learn something that will ultimately challenge how you approach your job, your parenting, your education (or that of your kids’), and so much more.

Happy reading, gang! (Anything I miss?) 

2019 PA USATF Cross Country Regional Championship Race Recap – SF, CA

2019 PA USATF Cross Country Regional Championship Race Recap – SF, CA

In the weeks since regular season cross-country ended, “life stuff” picked up substantially. I ran the Clarksburg half to help field a full women’s team, but otherwise, somewhat remarkably, I went for a couple weeks without any weekend racing on my calendar. By the time the PA USATF regional cross country championship race rolled around last weekend, it felt like I hadn’t raced cross country in FOREVER! Funny how time messes with us. 

Sunday’s championship race was on the same course as the regular season GGP event, which is awesome because it’s so storied. Everything I’ve said before about the course held true this time around as well, with the only exception being that it was significantly muddier and wetter (and thus, more slippery) in the first/third miles than it was earlier in the season. 

The masters men race began at 9am (5 miles), with the women at 10 (~4), and the open men at 11 (~6). Race order was slightly different for this race than for the earlier season events, and as you’ve probably noticed, race distances changed, too, specifically for the fellas. At the GGP course, that meant that the masters men started parallel to the normal finish line but ran in the opposite direction (picking up distance on the polo field, I think) before going on to the standard course. The open men, on the other hand, ran 3 loops of the ~2 (or ~2.25mi) course. We women got to run the exact same course that we ran a month or so ago. 

Let me tell you: Sunday morning in Lindley Meadow was the place to be. There were *so* many more teams and individuals out there than at any other time during the XC season, and even some of the local college teams showed up to play. Apparently, Sunday’s race was the most-attended champs in recent history. It made for awesome competition and made the already fantastic environment that is a cross country race even *more* lovely. Swarms of people everywhere, a beautiful and perfect-weather morning in SF… it was hard not to be amped.

I hitched a ride north with Sam and Heather, and we arrived in time to see the masters men’s race. (Fun facts: I’ve spent more time with Sam in the past three weeks than I probably have in the past few years combined, just by virtue of going to these PA races. The same goes for Heather. I’m loving the quality time with these fantastic humans). It wasn’t too much later that Janet and other teammates arrived, and we began our easy-paced warm-up before the fun really began. We had so many women show up that we (almost) could have fielded two women’s teams, which for us, is highly unusual. Everyone was down to come out and play and revel in the fun atmosphere.

our ladies team at PA champs (PC: WRC)

Though I hadn’t raced XC since the final, regular season XC race at Excelsior, I’ve been trying to spend a lot of time on trails each week to build my fitness and endurance. I haven’t done any speedwork or any “fast” running all season long (save for the weekly XC races), which admittedly has been pretty liberating. Hell if I know what paces I could do right now (particularly on roads), but simply relying on feeling and effort to dictate things has been more than enough. I had no idea how I’d perform at champs, and honestly, my one and only goal was to show up and work. Provided I did that, I’d be happy. 

True to form, I was slow off the starting line in the grassy meadow, and as I predicted during my warm-up, I felt pretty pokey in the first mile, mostly because I felt boxed in and because I didn’t want to slip on all the aforementioned wet and muddy sections. I began passing women around the first mile, in the singletrack portion of the race, and continued to advance in place throughout the end of the race. Because of its championship status, this race is weighted 1.5x more than normal season XC races — as far as I understand, anyway — so masters runners wear a bib on their backs that indicate their ages (40-49, 50-59, etc.). The idea is that if you’re a high-level runner, competing for top honors, you’ll have a better understanding of your competitors and can be more strategic.

Just like during regular season races, for most of Sunday’s race, I was surrounded by some seriously badass 50+ year-old women, and while some runners self-depricate if someone 10, 20, 30+ their senior beats them, I say bring it on! It is an honor to have my ass kicked by these PA women week after week. (and seriously, I’d love to do whatever it is they’re doing to be able to race like that when I’m their age)   

close to the polo fields, somewhere between miles 1-2 (or 3-4) (PC: Isaac)

Aside showing up and working hard, my other goal for this race was to take things in a controlled fashion for the second lap. At the end of lap one, beginning mile 3, I remember feeling pretty good and somewhat relieved that things were opening up a bit. I never looked at my watch, even when it beeped, but “felt” like I was pacing myself pretty consistently. Hearing my teammates’ cheers and seeing them throughout the course was a fantastic pick-me-up when I needed it (thanks, gang!), and once we got to the final mile, I tried to pick things up even more and finish the race — and the entire 2019 season — with a bang. 

end of loop 1 and on to loop 2 (PC: my teammates)

It was never an initial goal of mine to race the entire 2019 XC season and champs, but as the season unfolded and it worked out that way, I was happy to chip away each week at it (complain as I did about the crazy amount of driving we did each week). I tried not to think about that stuff during the champs race — keep your head in the game and all that — but it was hard not to. I have nothing but overwhelmingly positive memories from this year’s season, and perhaps not coincidentally, I have no real concrete memories of my times from any of the races. If pressed, I could probably give you a general pace average or range, but it’s so unlike me to not have the time recall down to the very second. It’s as though I underwent some sort of mental shift this season, with my positive memories from each week’s race stemming from the feelings of running hard, not the exact times I posted. For someone who has typically defined running success on values more numerical and less emotive, this is huge.

kicking it in at the finish, right after getting gapped, dang! (PC: WRC)

In the throes of competition at champs, as I was finishing my last mile of my last race of the season, I wanted to go out with a bang — to finish feeling satisfied with my work, with how I showed up for my team and for myself — and remind (or teach) myself how enormously satisfying running can be when I’m happy with simply the feeling of working hard. Time on a clock can’t tell me how hard I worked or how deeply I dug; only my body can. 

And like that, the race was over, I got outkicked by another runner in the final ~5 meters of the race (but I got down to a 4:47 pace for a hot second, so that’s cool), and it was done. I was the final Wolfpack woman across the line (often, but not always, per usual) and was honestly just amped about the experience and happy because I did what I set out to do: show up and work hard. The time’s irrelevant compared to the feeling. 

For what seems like the first time in my life, I didn’t train for a fall marathon this year, and that’s ok. Instead, I got completely outside my comfort zone week after week, had my butt kicked each time by PA racers who could easily lap me if they wanted to, and came out the other side a stronger and more savvy racer. 

I’d be disingenuous if I said that toeing the line at the PA races didn’t (or doesn’t) sometimes intimidate me, but in a weird, the-universe-always-makes-sense type of way, my mind hearkens back to the millions of conversations my eldest and I have had about her swimming and about how practicing and racing alongside her faster peers will only help her improve. Comparison is a shitty game to play, I tell her (slightly more eloquently), so turn it all inward, and focus on yourself and your effort. I think she’s finally coming around to understanding WTF her old mom is talking about here, and I feel like I see it in how she comports herself at training and in competition. I don’t think my running exactly mirrors her swimming, but eleven-plus weeks of cross country later, I’m realizing that the sports’ (and athletes’ experiences) are more shared than they are distinct. Perhaps I should consider listening to myself more than I do.

Family logistics this quarter kinda precluded my ability to do what I would usually do at this time of year (or at any other time of year, really). More importantly, though, they forced me to do something different, something differently-challenging, and for that, my running deepened. Each mile we run becomes part of us, of our story, and while we can never know where they’ll take us, it’s a lot of fun to surmise. It’s even more fun when they’re miles in races and environments that we never saw coming.  

It has been a fun ride this season, and while it likely made for some less-than-entertaining, kinda formulaic blog content (I ran at this place that was 234987 miles away, and it was hilly, and I almost ate shit but didn’t, but I had so much fun, and you should come join me next time!), I’m deeply appreciative for the opportunity (and TBH am impressed that I followed through with my weekly recapping). Thanks for the ongoing encouragement, and I’m looking forward to racing alongside you next year; the open invitation begins now. xo

that’s a whole lotta Wolfpack love! xoxoxo join the party, friends. (PC: WRC)