tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44845354543481542852024-02-19T04:14:01.118-08:00Lessons Learned on The Long RunJessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-3515091763205759612017-07-23T11:23:00.000-07:002017-07-23T11:23:29.161-07:00For Old Times' SakeI haven't taken a running selfie in a long time. Mostly because in-the-dark selfies don't usually turn out so well.<br />
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But, for old times' sake I got one in this weekend.<br />
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Here I am contemplating what choices in life have got me to where I will wake up <em>on a Saturday</em> before both my husband and my twenty month old to go run five miles in the 87% humidity, feels like 92 degrees heat. <br />
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I couldn't come up with any real answers. Probably it's for the doughnuts.Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-46948383725117104682017-07-20T14:20:00.000-07:002017-07-20T14:20:08.870-07:00Give It Some TimeThis is how all of my runs start these days:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1L45D6gPSRIam28z6EjE9dmb7SciVU22vOgRbTxqIB-8jvSU0rrNKOYsQVEUPb8wAUoF4yAIt2V_ePwDbGXvn2ldpipKSPB1VQAcddcZSRDl7_DNGLP0SlyEK7dWwh2BOspY_bP6oNw/s1600/201CE85E-3603-4FCD-A2F2-37797C187658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1L45D6gPSRIam28z6EjE9dmb7SciVU22vOgRbTxqIB-8jvSU0rrNKOYsQVEUPb8wAUoF4yAIt2V_ePwDbGXvn2ldpipKSPB1VQAcddcZSRDl7_DNGLP0SlyEK7dWwh2BOspY_bP6oNw/s400/201CE85E-3603-4FCD-A2F2-37797C187658.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To be clear, that's the moon. That's no sunrise.</td></tr>
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And, it's usually how they end too. But the other day, I decided to keep running for a little longer, and I was treated to this:<br />
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Here's the long run lesson: When things are at their darkest, keep going, be tough, and push through, there is always light at the end of the tunnel.Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-92100580246688922312017-06-30T17:59:00.000-07:002017-06-30T17:59:49.576-07:00Too Hot To HandleYou know the weather's bad when this is what you get....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Houston, we have a problem.<br />
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You guys, the weather here is H-O-T, humid!! I've had to take to running in the early, pre-dawn (literally, before the sun rises) hours just to survive my runs. As a side note, that's why you haven't seen many posts from me recently, it's hard to see the lessons, or much of anything at all, in the pitch black. Also, photos don't come out so great at that hour either.</div>
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Last week, we flew up to Indiana to visit Paul's family. The high temperatures while we were there hovered in the low 70's. Oh my goodness, I have never been so happy to run Indiana as I was last week. One day I checked the weather while I was running and it was 67 degrees with less than 20% humidity. I ran like the wind in Indiana. I don't think people realize the effect that heat and humidity have on a run. Last week, all of my runs averaged at least one minute per mile faster than my average morning Houston runs. Does anyone else notice such a big change in their running based on weather? </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">67 degree running reaction (*note - this is not me. This is how I felt. Not how I looked)<br />
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Now we are back in Houston and I'm back to running in the dark and apparently unregisterable (new word) weather. As much as I love our summers for poolside drinking, easy trips to the beach, and great tans, Houston summers were not made for running. Or, at least, I was not made for running Houston summers.</div>
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Oh by the way, the weather did finally pop up after my run. Feels like 88 with 91% humidity!?!? That's just too hot to handle.</div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-36143237962219392102017-06-24T20:41:00.003-07:002017-06-24T20:42:15.803-07:00Girls Just Wanna Have Run<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do you remember that time I told you that my long lost college roommate offhandedly suggested we run together sometime and I took her seriously and made her agree to fly to Texas from Iowa to come run a half marathon with me? Does this story make you want to be friends with me? No?? Yeah, it probably makes Melissa wish she wasn't friends with me either.</div>
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When you haven't seen someone in at least twelve years, you wonder how running 13.1 miles together might go. Well, I figured out pretty quickly how it was going to go when the day before our race, Melissa turns to me in the car and says, "Sooooo....do you ever drink before your races?" Of course, the truth is that no, I really don't drink before races. The other truth is that my arm is very easily twisted, especially when it comes to wine. After seconds and seconds of trying to convince me, off to the store we went to stock up on meats and cheeses and wine....lots of wine, like lots.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melissa saving our wine, meats, and cheese from our friend's dog/horse.</td></tr>
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I think it was somewhere between bottle number one and bottle number two when we decided that the next morning's race was going to be less race and more fun run. We promised each other there would be no worrying about pace or time or anything. We decided that after 12+ years, we had to have enough to talk about to cover 13.1 miles. It was going to be all about fun for us. I even agreed to run Garmin-less. So, if you are reading this in anticipation of hearing about my latest pace/record, you'll be disappointed, I still have no idea how I ended up running.</div>
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And, nothing says fun like waking up at 5:00 in the morning and driving an hour in the dark, cold rain for a race. The closer we got, the more we started hearing words like, "flooding" and "tornado" on the radio. Convinced it was my hangover talking and not actual weathermen, on to the race we went. We arrived only to find that we were all stuck in a holding pen waiting to find out if we could run. Apparently, the building next to us was struck by lightening. How weird are runners that we hear about lightening striking next to us and our reaction is, "Come on, man. Let us run?" Weird. Runners are weird.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told you. We are weird. Also, we are a little bit hungover. </td></tr>
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Eventually, after about an hour and a half delay, the told us we could run. The full marathon was cancelled (on a serious note, my heart breaks for those runners who trained for a full marathon and then had the race taken away from them. I cannot imagine how disappointed I would have been if I were them), but our race/fun run was on. </div>
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As we waited at the starting gate, it looked like the weather had cleared and we were excited to get on with our run. Well, excited maybe wasn't the word, but Melissa <em>had </em>flown in all the way from Iowa for this race, so we figured it might as well happen.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjniY8diAPU1plUOXmO5mAJVDhOVt1GPwczV6SYx6OiKB5dDGX3NAvU4oOkBiXBaSgKA9h5elV5ochdmRD-XAbsSU_d2YXtqCAfpLLJDiBjrSLLyyed9UQGYED5DwC4E8J6Efb8zZXOh30/s1600/Dale+JJ+Run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjniY8diAPU1plUOXmO5mAJVDhOVt1GPwczV6SYx6OiKB5dDGX3NAvU4oOkBiXBaSgKA9h5elV5ochdmRD-XAbsSU_d2YXtqCAfpLLJDiBjrSLLyyed9UQGYED5DwC4E8J6Efb8zZXOh30/s320/Dale+JJ+Run.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can tell she was excited to run....or hungry. Maybe she was really hungry.<br />
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Off we went. The first few miles seemed to live up to our expectations...nothing but fun. We ran and chit-chatted and caught up on the life that had happened since we last saw each other. And then, the skies opened up. When I tell you it rained on us, there is no way for you to understand what I mean. I mean <em>it poured!! </em>It rained cold, fat, wet drops all over us for at least 9 miles. You know how us runners always talk about how bad ass we feel when we run in the rain? Yeah, we mean like a mile in the rain. There is nothing bad ass about running a half marathon in wet, heavy, squeaky shoes. There is nothing bad ass about shivering with chattering teeth while you run. We were anything but bad asses. Especially when the lightening started striking all around us. No, bad ass is not how I would describe us. Although, at that point, we did seem to pick up the pace.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf4IiEa7gVLDIxXHvc_XexBTFaGpxxdaUPJRCJrF1PkDPLSiqJM4dqMPSkoc15VGAVhYClGALhApvrsVtLpeo5wmaNNUevxJMvIJBZxxfk0SLZ6PoFuRwzrI7gkg9NPIntdQ9N04bBjp8/s1600/Dale+JJ+Rain.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf4IiEa7gVLDIxXHvc_XexBTFaGpxxdaUPJRCJrF1PkDPLSiqJM4dqMPSkoc15VGAVhYClGALhApvrsVtLpeo5wmaNNUevxJMvIJBZxxfk0SLZ6PoFuRwzrI7gkg9NPIntdQ9N04bBjp8/s320/Dale+JJ+Rain.JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure why she seems so happy after 10 miles in the rain. I'm guessing it's because I convinced her to buy a visor to keep rain off her face while I left mine in the car. Also, this picture does not do us justice. Apparently, there is no good way to capture soaked to the bone.<br />
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I don't have a good race recap for you or any good details about how I ran or any lessons learned. What I can tell you is that, even though I've never been more cold or more wet while I ran, I've also never had more fun. I don't regret for a second that I awkwardly convinced my long-lost college roommate to come running with me. Now, I can't speak for her....</div>
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A couple race photos:</div>
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Oh, here's one long run lesson I've got for you: If there is a chance of rain in your race day forecast, think very carefully about your race attire. If you don't, well.....let's just say, you won't be posting any post-rain pictures to your long run lessons blog...unless your long run lessons blog is x-rated. Oops!</div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-59810079598656628122017-03-29T12:11:00.000-07:002017-03-29T12:11:59.821-07:00Birthday Fun RunHow do normal people celebrate their birthday? Something tells me that it's not by waking up at 5:00 a.m., strapping on a headlamp, and logging 10.37 (I miscalculated my route -old age!) miles. Well, we all know I can't claim normalcy...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn't this photo scream, "out of my mind thrilled for my birthday?" Or, maybe more like just, "out of my mind."</td></tr>
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Of course, normal people also don't eat a giant piece of homemade cake at 9:00 a.m. And if that's not reason enough to avoid being normal, I don't know what is.<br />
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Here's to the wisdom that comes with the years. I have to say, that's been the best thing about getting older, realizing that life is short and meant to be enjoyed. It's getting comfortable in your own skin and giving up that idea of perfection. In the end, no one is going to ask you, "Did you avoid all sugar? Were you skinny?" No, the question in the end is going to be, "Did you <em><u>live</u>? </em>Were you<em> <u>happy</u>?</em>" <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my birthday wish for you.</td></tr>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-79537582510734477542017-03-20T11:39:00.000-07:002017-03-20T11:39:07.317-07:00Rugly<div style="text-align: justify;">
Y'all. This is my actual, no-posing, couldn't smile if I'd tried, face after attempting a 10 mile run in the 84 degree weather. It was hot, I mean really, really hot. And it was plain ol' rugly.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No filter here. It was really that bad.</td></tr>
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I say attempting because I didn't make it. I ended up only running 9.1 miles and walking the rest. Not exactly the confidence boosting run I was hoping for only two weeks out from my next half marathon. But, I had to consider my safety and health and towards the end, the only option was to walk. I literally thought I was hallucinating bunnies in trees. Luckily though, that one turned out to be real.</div>
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What can I say? Ugly runs just happen. You never know when they will strike (although, checking the weather probably would have clued me in on this one). Ugly runs are part of running. They are even part of training. As crazy as it sounds, this horrible, hot, failed long run will actually help me out in the long run. Even though I couldn't finish the planned run, I am still stronger for having tried it. That's the thing about each and every run we set out on, no matter how they turn out, we turn out for the better.Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-46684191709023632932017-03-14T12:13:00.002-07:002017-03-14T12:13:32.726-07:00Long Run Randomness - 9.1When you live and run in the fourth largest city in America, you never know what you are going to come across on your run.<br />
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A flock of ducks:<br />
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Or a flock of flamingos:</div>
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Also, I ran 9.1 miles, which felt like I did exactly this:</div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-7687998645931827882017-03-08T20:01:00.003-08:002017-03-08T20:01:42.723-08:00Race Day Recap - Missions Heritage Half MarathonI know that I am really late getting this post up, but it's time to recap my race day at the San Antonio Missions Heritage Half Marathon. Spoiler alert: I ran 13.1 miles and it was hard and it hurt and while I was running I swore I wouldn't do another one anytime soon.<br />
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This post title could easily be "What Not To Do." I didn't follow any of my own rules leading up to this race. <br />
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Broken Rule #1: Don't drink alcohol.<br />
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Okay, but I couldn't really help this one. Packet pickup was <em>at a brewery. </em>I pretty much <em>had</em> to drink. Side note: Alamo Beer Brewery is super cute and the beer is good. I definitely recommend swinging by if you are in San Antonio.</div>
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Broken Rule #2: Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. </div>
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This was probably the biggest mistake I made leading up to the race. I just did not drink enough water. Which is weird because I'm normally great at hydrating. I think I was just off my game the night before. Traveling with a little one isn't easy and I found myself too busy mommy-ing to take care of myself or even think about what I needed to be doing (isn't this the story of our lives, moms?). Race day was pretty warm and extremely humid. When you aren't well hydrated, running in the humidity is exhausting. This was pretty much me by mile six.</div>
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Broken Rule #3: Pre-run Fuel</div>
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This one is supposed to be a no-brainer. We all know we are supposed to eat and eat a lot before a run. HELLO - it's called carb-loading!! It's what we live for. And yet, I failed miserably. No spaghetti dinner for me the night before. No big delicious bagel for breakfast. Nothing. We did go to dinner at a cute little restaurant in Boerne the night before and the food looked delicious. And what I did manage to eat was delicious. It's just that I had a fourteen month old baby girl who was up waaaaay past her bedtime and wanted nothing to do with her high chair and everything to do with crawling all over her mom...or running around to all of the other tables to "talk" to the other patrons. So, as all moms do, I left the restaurant with a mostly untouched plate....well, except for the fried pecan pie and ice cream dessert we ordered. No mom can leave that untouched! The real problem came in the morning before the race. We were staying in a house about a half hour away from the start line, which meant we had to be out the door by 6:45 a.m. Please see previous comments regarding traveling with a fourteen month old. After getting myself ready and helping the hubs get the baby all ready and packed for the afternoon (how can someone so small need SO much???), I threw my bagel in the toaster and quickly realized that I had forgotten to pack butter or any other bagel spread. Sorry, but a dry plain bagel just isn't appetizing. Instead, I grabbed a couple of handfuls of cheerios and a banana and out the door we ran. Now, a banana and a little cereal might get me through a short run, but not so much for 13.1 miles. After about an hour and a half of running, my tank was on empty. The rest of the run was on fumes.</div>
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All of that said, I did finish the race and in an okay time. I was just three seconds off of my goal pace. Of course, my goal pace wasn't all that fast. Like I said in an earlier post though, my real goal was just to complete 13.1 miles as a mom. And I did. And, I had the greatest, sweetest face waiting for me when I finished. </div>
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A few other race day facts:</div>
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The owners of the house we rented were so sweet! Check out the note waiting for us when we arrived:</div>
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The race started at the Mission Concepcion, which is a really pretty, still functioning church in San Antonio and then we ran through several other missions. One of which met runners with ringing church bells and a shower of rose petals. I have to say, that was a first!</div>
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Speaking of food (were we speaking of food?), the post race bites were pretty darn good! Black beans, rice, and chicken at 10:00 a.m.? Yes, I will!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a good thing she's so cute. Stealing a runner's post-race food can be very dangerous.<br />
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I want to take a second here to shout out my amazing hubster. I know I don't give him enough credit on this blog, but if it weren't for him I would never have been able to run this race. From the time I told him that I was ready to start running again until the time I finished these 13.1 miles, he was nothing but supportive. Three times a week, he would quit working early and take care of our little one while I went running. Every weekend I would leave for a couple of hours to get in my long runs and he never complained. I'm so lucky to be married to such an awesome guy. You think running is an individual sport, but no, we are a team and this team is only successful because of him. </div>
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Speaking of what a lucky lady I am, my dad also made the very long drive across Texas to watch me run. There are no words for that kind of dad.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-14779422700920699852017-03-06T19:21:00.003-08:002017-03-06T19:21:32.236-08:00The Definition<div style="text-align: justify;">
Don't they say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?</div>
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Well, here we go again....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-ilqJcOw8wXpV9Db0kqRZlMrR_pFFtdEPiQfmWnvaENyihtJtOGKEyZJ4tnk0Ovayyn4ekr_-3KPVSZcGKVynmsYtyocfT0GCJs3i6P1qOC3kbyPTmFAix9CO_BR9Yz8OJQyV2OH1JQ/s1600/final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-ilqJcOw8wXpV9Db0kqRZlMrR_pFFtdEPiQfmWnvaENyihtJtOGKEyZJ4tnk0Ovayyn4ekr_-3KPVSZcGKVynmsYtyocfT0GCJs3i6P1qOC3kbyPTmFAix9CO_BR9Yz8OJQyV2OH1JQ/s400/final.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I <em>must</em> be insane! Didn't I just run one of these?!? Wasn't it super hard and painful? Didn't I swear I was done with training for a while? Well, turns out, when your college roommate who you haven't seen in over ten years offers to fly down and run with you, you don't say no.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-14977383823249150752017-02-04T13:16:00.003-08:002017-02-04T13:18:55.534-08:00Dough-Not Ignore FateThis morning as I finished my nine mile run, this little fate-on-wheels was waiting for me just as I exited the trails and headed to my car.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVpT3njvDml7j80fPouSL-Z3ntIxjpvxyUKM9iSGTMPLrCKcVQrfw9vWytDZq7zhdsge4CKv0qZKdFLLt3HQjpKic7SVvfZWGZ2x_Jh3BeyeKpYsHJvQyachhB6xzRWe4HZY_7FBM5H4/s1600/Donut.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuVpT3njvDml7j80fPouSL-Z3ntIxjpvxyUKM9iSGTMPLrCKcVQrfw9vWytDZq7zhdsge4CKv0qZKdFLLt3HQjpKic7SVvfZWGZ2x_Jh3BeyeKpYsHJvQyachhB6xzRWe4HZY_7FBM5H4/s400/Donut.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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When faced with a doughnut-filled, slice of heaven on wheels, must be fate truck, dough-not ignore it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Fv99lFcie8GfL_GjjAJHpO8oGwzu3052YmEdJB4k0opwkD5w6hYc05Nr-zoPHgGizvmykqFciMUSTBEdcXD8VSUXuy_yZMQOo20-gZ-HV76pVNJdR7UvVv-Z6aEx335zOY5FRQMcDmg/s1600/donut+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Fv99lFcie8GfL_GjjAJHpO8oGwzu3052YmEdJB4k0opwkD5w6hYc05Nr-zoPHgGizvmykqFciMUSTBEdcXD8VSUXuy_yZMQOo20-gZ-HV76pVNJdR7UvVv-Z6aEx335zOY5FRQMcDmg/s640/donut+2.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes. That is fried chicken. And yes, it was delicious.</td></tr>
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<br />Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-75412089771865916442017-02-04T09:39:00.002-08:002017-02-04T13:18:02.106-08:00And Just Like ThatThis weekend I ran eleven miles. And just like that....the longest run was done!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcy2U7-CwoRRP7hvsv_BbCO98UrCoGivZQeN8LN5zcBzAGsT_f08PyXgFcwGhcbRaRMRHTmHQ5K7eyXKneSZ83vA2m-QEwJY4zTUGoisGP0HLjrJm81fH0VRlFLglVp0IQFVjLGriFF0/s1600/11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcy2U7-CwoRRP7hvsv_BbCO98UrCoGivZQeN8LN5zcBzAGsT_f08PyXgFcwGhcbRaRMRHTmHQ5K7eyXKneSZ83vA2m-QEwJY4zTUGoisGP0HLjrJm81fH0VRlFLglVp0IQFVjLGriFF0/s320/11.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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It feels like I just committed to running this race and now I'm already tapering and preparing for the run. Finishing my last longest run before the race has me looking back on my training and also looking forward to the race. I think I'll tell you a little about both.<br />
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<u>Training:</u></div>
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I used a Hal Higdon training program this go-round. I've used several of his programs before, so I figured why fix what isn't broken? I reviewed several and went with the program that required the least amount of running. And then I proceeded to spend the first half of my training time actually running less than the recommended amount (don't ask - I apparently have trouble reading and writing). In looking back, I think that if this were going to be my first race, I would be really nervous right now. I tend to be the kind of person who really believes in and relies on preparation. Luckily, this is not my first race and I'm not that concerned about my preparation. I know I can run 13.1 miles. I've done it many, many times before. And that knowledge has me more confident than my not-so-stellar training would normally allow. It's true. My training has been anything but inspiring. I just haven't found "it" this go-round. I haven't fallen into that easy running habit where running feels natural and your body craves the release of a good run. Nope, none of that this time. I feel like every single run has been muscled through by an act of sheer will. And, I plan on calling on the last reserves of that sheer will to run this race.<br />
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<u>The Race:</u><br />
Like I said, I'm not really worried about the race. I know I can do it. I know I will finish. But, with that said, my goals this time around are so much different than they were in my pre-baby racing days. For this race my goal is honestly, just to finish. I just want to run 13.1 miles without stopping. That's it. Just finish. It's a little hard for me admit that my goal is just to finish. I've been used to having specific and somewhat aggressive goals for each race. But, things are different now. I'm a different person and a different racer and that means different goals. And, I have to be okay with that. Expecting the same results without the same preparation is just crazy. This time around I'm focused on simply doing it. I'm focused on and excited about my first mom-medal!<br />
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I'm also excited for a nice, long running rest after the race!</div>
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<br />Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-86265717817128620392017-01-30T14:12:00.001-08:002017-01-30T19:34:17.131-08:00Nine-spiration<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Last week my long run was planned for nine miles. Let me tell you a little something about the weather I faced during the entire nine miles.... IT WAS WINDY!!! Both coming and going, it was <em>windy! </em>I'm talking limbs down everywhere, leaves and dirt flying in my face, and a literal wind-wall at times that felt like it was pushing me backwards. In other words, it was a real sh$tty run.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8sfiLVJWZxOEgzVZdT-qvaHIsuf1ihP_zF-y9lJHeD-RDOr3dDGXagddB8AUuwn9t3GXSi4L4UwkgIaOkh0jTYr-g5ISk5LYKxDR5x88P6Q7hXAfYMZ0lSEJ9o3KUFLC3z8Gxoqh0h4/s1600/Wind.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8sfiLVJWZxOEgzVZdT-qvaHIsuf1ihP_zF-y9lJHeD-RDOr3dDGXagddB8AUuwn9t3GXSi4L4UwkgIaOkh0jTYr-g5ISk5LYKxDR5x88P6Q7hXAfYMZ0lSEJ9o3KUFLC3z8Gxoqh0h4/s400/Wind.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Running into the wind can be extremely discouraging. All of your momentum is heading forward, you are working with all of your might to push on, and yet this force you cannot control is holding you back. The temptation to quit can be so strong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When the temptation to quit creeps in, you have to find inspiration to keep going.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And my inspiration came from watching and marching with an amazing group of 50,000 men and women and children all coming together to demand equal rights and equal protection for all (including things like <span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">paid family leave; anti-discrimination protections for
lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender Americans; access to affordable
reproductive health care; an end to the
use of military-style weapons and tactics by the police in minority
communities; a living minimum wage; immigration reform, with a path to
citizenship; and protection of the environment and public lands). </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhB-5kQiGYrLcO7n34UjTJLKb910ysGgZxm9ZCur3Dv1L1bkEaSogJ0APOVD55mVXit5T49ljtpx_TqYsfrN0dhdnRFZc-85eOYgcYmMk4SlvLhcrWFhEVGL5t8QERDy_lhhOx0lrK40/s1600/protest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhB-5kQiGYrLcO7n34UjTJLKb910ysGgZxm9ZCur3Dv1L1bkEaSogJ0APOVD55mVXit5T49ljtpx_TqYsfrN0dhdnRFZc-85eOYgcYmMk4SlvLhcrWFhEVGL5t8QERDy_lhhOx0lrK40/s320/protest.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now, I know not everyone was as inspired by the marches around the world as I was, but I have to tell you, being in a crowd of 50,000 all of whom were kind, and compassionate, and creative, and bright, and bold, and determined, and concerned for the well-being of everyone, not just people who look like and think like them, well it just makes you want to be a better person. And, frankly, it made me not want to give up the next day. When that wind-wall would slap into me and stop me in my tracks, I would think of all those amazing women from the day before, some of whom were in their 70's, none of whom complained about the crowds, or the heat, or the hours and hours of standing. I knew those ladies wouldn't let a little wind stop them, and I knew I couldn't either.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpn0Ma1naPsTu7JgNXLtHnJcumMSEJDdZ6ocrSmSMCGxvuk-wYumxPt4cfWt2OjqXv2giWp-JQHl8t1zhEd5-u1MTyhIxJldmVUpA4bpVBRxnosK-nvgnE022iwWXgJBHnSSAUABy8yA/s1600/wind+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMpn0Ma1naPsTu7JgNXLtHnJcumMSEJDdZ6ocrSmSMCGxvuk-wYumxPt4cfWt2OjqXv2giWp-JQHl8t1zhEd5-u1MTyhIxJldmVUpA4bpVBRxnosK-nvgnE022iwWXgJBHnSSAUABy8yA/s400/wind+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-46242571430804524732017-01-16T11:42:00.001-08:002017-01-16T11:42:23.426-08:00What Lies Ahead<div style="text-align: justify;">
When you're on your long run and these are the footprints you come across, it makes you wonder, <em>what lies ahead?!?!</em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDkiIUOFgsKVulzloNVh4miJzdUycxlsG-KsiIKrXgp1RteHjpBxS3vg-whXdxjQS6yUtA5nO683Z5GtOuqMbN-QLJZ2u4_xXhIu1CP4UUIm4KrQMW29BRgt081i7W1xE89vy3XnTpPM/s1600/print.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDkiIUOFgsKVulzloNVh4miJzdUycxlsG-KsiIKrXgp1RteHjpBxS3vg-whXdxjQS6yUtA5nO683Z5GtOuqMbN-QLJZ2u4_xXhIu1CP4UUIm4KrQMW29BRgt081i7W1xE89vy3XnTpPM/s400/print.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMQjhMMom40b9OsP5J5qbIyVFBf0f5z-YYeCz2oxPPf4ZCAXAZ4HQ1mqPmVs_wrE50s6do72Zu6Th6I1olNMI2eFxlNB0d6S8sCZd7FVSA7UolCUQN7nBkcJtF5o1ZLWzvfTiwlEIMeQ/s1600/print+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMQjhMMom40b9OsP5J5qbIyVFBf0f5z-YYeCz2oxPPf4ZCAXAZ4HQ1mqPmVs_wrE50s6do72Zu6Th6I1olNMI2eFxlNB0d6S8sCZd7FVSA7UolCUQN7nBkcJtF5o1ZLWzvfTiwlEIMeQ/s400/print+2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Seriously, you guys, what makes that print??</div>
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<br />Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-67491365693210891632017-01-12T09:28:00.002-08:002017-01-12T09:59:34.062-08:00It's Official!<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am officially running 13.1 miles in less than one month. Errr... scratch that...I am officially <em>attempting</em> to run 13.1 miles in less than one month.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQQJ84gVWkA2NYscwU1sIIg6dGNDB3alQ9AYWC5AjKJCx9pm-kcU8rY8zDtsuYY1YHBbeVulQYQ612GRTp6HDUrgtLcJJ8Aw7rsVNLFk1zMLVsWIczZpNZIf7FZWJu4XgG6MVzYEdxeQ/s1600/official.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQQJ84gVWkA2NYscwU1sIIg6dGNDB3alQ9AYWC5AjKJCx9pm-kcU8rY8zDtsuYY1YHBbeVulQYQ612GRTp6HDUrgtLcJJ8Aw7rsVNLFk1zMLVsWIczZpNZIf7FZWJu4XgG6MVzYEdxeQ/s400/official.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you've been reading my blog lately you've probably noticed that I've been training for this race for a couple months, but I just wasn't ready to make it official until now. I kept waiting to feel like I was ready. I'm not sure I actually feel ready yet, but I at least feel really committed. I mean, after nearly two months of training, I kind of have to go through with it, right?</span></div>
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<br />Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-19257582557925844562017-01-07T19:48:00.000-08:002017-01-07T19:48:50.417-08:00This Never HappensYou guys... it's freezing in Houston! This never happens. <br />
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It was literally below freezing (with a feels like temperature of 11!) this morning and I was scheduled for a long run. I really, <em>really</em> considered pushing it to Sunday when it was supposed to be at least forty degrees, but I had already spent Friday night sober in preparation for today's run, so I <em>had </em>to run. Nobody's trying to spend the whole weekend without wine.<br />
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Running when it feels like eleven degrees can be described, at best, as shocking. More accurately, it should be described as....ummm...leaky. Why don't more people talk about the leakage?!?! Seriously, a hot body and freezing temperatures do not make for a pretty runner. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObjf5TThTFmLlEr2FvyK3TmiH0M1-9Kps1g1VmvsiaWmLHfmeVAb1AyF8A8eFBiTpb-lp4VSm7VEInfLh-M2FI1bUyFqhgueMHu05VrwwfYC3MgkxC59YL3Iwv4p_7guecIxMS5lDDEg/s1600/IMG_0597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObjf5TThTFmLlEr2FvyK3TmiH0M1-9Kps1g1VmvsiaWmLHfmeVAb1AyF8A8eFBiTpb-lp4VSm7VEInfLh-M2FI1bUyFqhgueMHu05VrwwfYC3MgkxC59YL3Iwv4p_7guecIxMS5lDDEg/s400/IMG_0597.JPG" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Not a pretty runner.</td></tr>
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The run itself was pretty good. I was happy with my pace and nothing hurt (other than my lungs and fingers - those were frozen). It's been weird, this training cycle I've found that my weekday short runs have been rather brutal, but my weekend long runs have been really encouraging. The good news is my next race is a weekend long run. Hopefully a warmer run too.Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-91452902800232476902017-01-03T19:16:00.000-08:002017-01-03T19:16:00.612-08:00Seven and Sayonara '16<div style="text-align: justify;">
This week's run had me up to seven miles. There's not a lot to report on the run. I would say it was good in that it was uneventful. Uneventful, when running, is always good. I had a decent pace and it didn't hurt (well, it mostly didn't hurt). It was nice to hit over half of the way on the training program and feel confident and comfortable. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwyNA3MHMGv9h1oSsLaBMzs3TWeGzrKocEice6LdGzxbIU3d4ykjxncNRWEzpDYpLyDQSunC_DMz3GM_qnNZ3R5oxXUdwc5E7ght9WAhXedd-IE7ILDh9ew6nWjnDn7GMx6CSM73Toa8/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwyNA3MHMGv9h1oSsLaBMzs3TWeGzrKocEice6LdGzxbIU3d4ykjxncNRWEzpDYpLyDQSunC_DMz3GM_qnNZ3R5oxXUdwc5E7ght9WAhXedd-IE7ILDh9ew6nWjnDn7GMx6CSM73Toa8/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't I look confident and comfortable? <br />
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This is how I choose to celebrate my long runs these days. A beer and a foot massage. I would say both were well deserved.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9V7R_Jx3DqRx5PuR1xPpocTmMkj_3UlzI0Lx7weTt6eawx_VVRocKjTjC7q_3bUtAU94u3EdYt0IziaYBT9dtqvDueYjuDMID9ykgnDFbHy1cgEfO5vhevxbjmsukNJgqQG1b8JiSKM/s1600/FullSizeRender+%2528002%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9V7R_Jx3DqRx5PuR1xPpocTmMkj_3UlzI0Lx7weTt6eawx_VVRocKjTjC7q_3bUtAU94u3EdYt0IziaYBT9dtqvDueYjuDMID9ykgnDFbHy1cgEfO5vhevxbjmsukNJgqQG1b8JiSKM/s400/FullSizeRender+%2528002%2529.jpg" width="245" /></a></div>
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I also celebrated the end of 2016 similarly. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1E0rxzqp0VPw0kc_t6fCcOaxoQK_SX4FMtQUuE8V8wQl73hyphenhyphens6OoUWk60oSQoWDPQi87EARTPe-HJ0hfJoiTJGma_35NgpI9RV4OD_5CmVAThdOx5O2WX5n86oTrQWYYfIUmlg7Eca88/s1600/QueenBey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1E0rxzqp0VPw0kc_t6fCcOaxoQK_SX4FMtQUuE8V8wQl73hyphenhyphens6OoUWk60oSQoWDPQi87EARTPe-HJ0hfJoiTJGma_35NgpI9RV4OD_5CmVAThdOx5O2WX5n86oTrQWYYfIUmlg7Eca88/s400/QueenBey.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Normally, this is the time I would take to reflect on my year of running and evaluate what I had and hadn't achieved, to see how far I had come and how far I had left to go. Normally, this is a time of reflection. Well, there's not much to look back on. I've been consistently running only for a number of weeks now. This year it feels like there is no looking back. All eyes focused on 2017.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-89297508737179960062016-12-27T10:52:00.001-08:002016-12-27T10:52:46.352-08:00Six! And When You Know Better, You Do Better<div>
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Check it out! Six whole miles. My longest run in at least 18 months. </div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" class="bloggoimg" src="photo_438385.jpg" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsoa_ozmoFZOWXQm6ACT1GCON4-0iJlVnpTZCQ66yxcNts06KOScqT9ajl3RebDpQHBCUnqI8kk906fqPpNhBNNpUMRYXTP4YcuZTZpMFP0bF_KVxkzn-tQAPTK3f-_Glig0PocRmbhbk/s1600/New+Record.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsoa_ozmoFZOWXQm6ACT1GCON4-0iJlVnpTZCQ66yxcNts06KOScqT9ajl3RebDpQHBCUnqI8kk906fqPpNhBNNpUMRYXTP4YcuZTZpMFP0bF_KVxkzn-tQAPTK3f-_Glig0PocRmbhbk/s320/New+Record.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTunrUJsgDO9Fym7qB_GsztpF9Vsjcw4z3vviOxMa07A-AkPLXTyEdi_R3iQAWUUAF2P_F-uyg6slyLuye2PbxgMbfjb05ZMHdI1Y2uSTQCD6XzIZVHSAJTik6Zqn9MwKYxHGvKNPpu8/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTunrUJsgDO9Fym7qB_GsztpF9Vsjcw4z3vviOxMa07A-AkPLXTyEdi_R3iQAWUUAF2P_F-uyg6slyLuye2PbxgMbfjb05ZMHdI1Y2uSTQCD6XzIZVHSAJTik6Zqn9MwKYxHGvKNPpu8/s200/5.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78MPFO5pZKWXQ3q42J4kGJozhr1Mdz9Qlw24XYblr8f-M9X29IGxlqNdb_gz8En5kzraBw_QNvN_U8lLX7mDo0zhokzT0jnPWKZ0D2_qyzwGrpnkcreJ_hyphenhyphenn4pAzYrhKdUMI2Wtzi8as/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78MPFO5pZKWXQ3q42J4kGJozhr1Mdz9Qlw24XYblr8f-M9X29IGxlqNdb_gz8En5kzraBw_QNvN_U8lLX7mDo0zhokzT0jnPWKZ0D2_qyzwGrpnkcreJ_hyphenhyphenn4pAzYrhKdUMI2Wtzi8as/s200/1.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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Turns out it is impossible to selfie the number six. Also, I forgot to filter these photos. Can we all just pretend I look better after six miles?</div>
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Remember back when I used to run six miles all of the time with no problem? I do too. I actually remember saying out loud, "I think six miles is a perfect daily run. It's easy enough to do every day and just hard enough to feel like a workout." HA HA HA!! Those were the days. </div>
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These days, six miles is not so easy and I'm glad I'm not doing it every day. Six miles, these days, is very hard. Here is what got me through: I <em>knew </em>I could do it. And <em>knowing </em>I could do it meant I could actually do it. I didn't matter what I thought about the run because I <em>knew </em>I would finish. That's been the nice thing about this training (yes, training - more on that later!) cycle. I've been here, I've done it. Sure, it feels like a lifetime ago and I'm trying to do it with a whole new body and a whole new life, but I have done it. I <em>know</em> I can do it. And so I am doing it.</div>
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And, just in case you think the above pictures are the absolute worst post-run pictures a person could take, nope. This was attempt no. 1:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChd57ypEDe9QyZnCQlfVHtK4qKDT-i-WoGMgGfkCc4kDU48tbRSi9VGZlwfP57YzLDGPUnJnEPfMa48zKS_WTb7W342CTikj0G-gcQeWhfESdKo-I2TJC1MUR6D103kgrVJBGTqGiWdk/s1600/5+oops.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChd57ypEDe9QyZnCQlfVHtK4qKDT-i-WoGMgGfkCc4kDU48tbRSi9VGZlwfP57YzLDGPUnJnEPfMa48zKS_WTb7W342CTikj0G-gcQeWhfESdKo-I2TJC1MUR6D103kgrVJBGTqGiWdk/s200/5+oops.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stop. Just stop.</td></tr>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-72249279973588849462016-12-27T10:43:00.003-08:002016-12-27T10:43:43.638-08:00Ho Ho Ho!I ho-ho-hope you all had a very merry Christmas!<br />
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-35437116894985471942016-11-17T10:40:00.000-08:002016-11-17T10:40:39.835-08:00How Are You Feeling?<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hey guys.</div>
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I just thought I would check in to see how you are feeling. I know I've been struggling a little in the last week. It's been really hard seeing what we've turned into and all of the anger and hate that seems to be spreading across this country. I also thought I would share my experience from the other day.</div>
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As you know, whenever I'm feeling the feelings, I lace up and hit the trails. Needless to say, I've been feeling lots of feelings lately. So, the other day I set out for a little run-therapy. As I started the run I went to put my car keys in my pocket and something told me not to. Instead, I held my keys in my fist as I ran. I held them the way we women are taught to carry our keys when we are alone in a parking lot. You know, just in case someone jumps out at us. I had never carried my keys like that on a run. Yes, I always try to be aware of my surroundings, but I found myself constantly glancing behind me, you know, just in case. This was something new to me. I had to ask myself what had changed. Why was I running scared?</div>
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The answer? The country has changed. Or more specifically, my understanding of the country has changed. As a woman I no longer feel safe or protected. And, I'm just a white woman. I know that I am in less danger than most. I don't know if I would have been brave enough to step out on the trail if I were a woman of color or a woman in a hijab. To those ladies, my heart goes out to you. </div>
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As I'm thinking about this and wondering if all my runs will be like this and considering how that makes me feel about running these days, I come upon an older Hispanic man who has stopped to adjust his knee brace. Just then, he flashes me a huge smile an throws me a big thumbs up sign. </div>
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Oh Universe. You really are amazing! You always provide exactly what we need when we need it. The SIGNS ARE ALWAYS THERE. We just have to keep looking for them.</div>
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What's the lesson? I suppose considering this blog's name, I need to find the lesson here. I think the lesson isn't just that good is out there. That's not enough. I can't say that everything is all good because good exists. No. There are still some very scary things going on and very scary people out there. But, and here is the lesson I stumbled upon about half a mile after the thumbs up: Our eyes have to be open to what's going on out there, but so must our hearts.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-36019785316045909922016-11-07T11:20:00.001-08:002016-11-07T11:20:05.707-08:00Send Me A Sign (Pictorial 8)<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't know about you all, but lately I've been feeling a little discouraged about things. The negativity that seems be surrounding and coming from all angles has become depressing and overwhelming. And right when I was starting to get really in the dumps about it, I went outside and looked for a sign. And lo and behold a sign was given.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmyBN185b_gmWtNB6c7aY_LM35DcUMTjFsEKeEKZ4JmesXGYxw8hk_3Xmp3gNiHcm86ZRRJ60J1znSQeGe42eXvp0ZlOSF4AiORqVoR5OxwM3hMfbIJY7T9XaffyUQct7re6z9IND1Sfk/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmyBN185b_gmWtNB6c7aY_LM35DcUMTjFsEKeEKZ4JmesXGYxw8hk_3Xmp3gNiHcm86ZRRJ60J1znSQeGe42eXvp0ZlOSF4AiORqVoR5OxwM3hMfbIJY7T9XaffyUQct7re6z9IND1Sfk/s320/IMG_0126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here are a few more signs for any of you who need a reminder that things are good (really good!) and that love is all around. You just have to look for it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be Bold! This is one of my favorites.</td></tr>
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**All pictures taken on the long run (well, some not so long and some not so run-ny).</div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-53067217114067834012016-11-05T11:05:00.005-07:002016-11-07T11:25:38.930-08:00Adding Injury to Insult<div style="text-align: justify;">
As if it isn't bad enough to have to squeeze into your running shorts after having a baby, failing to lose the baby weight, and taking over a year and a half off from serious running. As if that isn't insult enough, you have to add to that some seriously painful thigh chafing?!? Come on universe, have a little pity on a girl. </div>
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<img border="0" class="bloggoimg" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZX_9LGPbbNAWTRVoAmTGjWQwFVKNLRjKaneFd-BxdaEbhZSDDaEH6e78nm-ldSWaz__PwOm-DDaPVyR6D_F8eiQHPz14DZPPKCZVSVGaf8Y20UqYTbak-XyGTpf0wWNLjrsqETxR9vM/I/photo_335688.jpg" width="387" /></div>
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Talk about adding injury to insult. </div>
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That's the saying, right?</div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-89341789392737014512016-04-05T07:37:00.000-07:002016-04-05T07:37:00.862-07:00I Have Some Splainin' To Do<div style="text-align: justify;">
You may have noticed, but I took a nearly five month break from blogging. You may be surprised to learn I also took a nearly five month break from running. </div>
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Let me explain:</div>
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Does that explain it all? This little bundle of joy (and tears and vomit and poopy diapers and sleepless nights) has taken up every second of every minute of every day since November. </div>
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To be totally honest with you, for several months I felt terribly guilty about not running and not writing. I felt like I owed you all updates and I felt like I couldn't update if I wasn't running. At the same time, I felt like<em> I just couldn't run. </em>I mean, I <strong>could not</strong> run. Not to save my life. And so I didn't. I didn't do any of it. Why did I feel guilty? Well, here I was a person who not only self-identified as a runner, but also a person who had put herself out there for the whole world to see and proclaimed, "I am a runner." I mean for heaven's sake, there is a blog entry title, "I am a runner." But, I wasn't running. I wasn't doing anything. Okay, I was doing a ton, but I certainly wasn't doing anything I could write to you about under the guise of runner's blog. What did that make me? A fraud? I liar? A failure? <br />
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But, after months of guilt about it, I decided to drop the guilt. Well, at least guilt about this blog. Turns out, after a baby, you have plenty of things to feel guilty about (and PLENTY of hormones to help you in all that guilty feeling). You feel guilty that you don't know what the hell you are doing with this little tiny life you are now responsible for. You feel guilty that suddenly everything in the world has shifted and nothing is how it used to be and you aren't sure how you are supposed to react to that. You feel guilty that you aren't the wife, friend, daughter, employee, you used to be. You aren't yourself and you aren't sure if you'll ever feel like yourself again and you can't help but feel like you are letting every single person around you down. **Have I mentioned that those post-baby hormones are intense?!? </div>
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After I accepted that all of the things I thought I would do/be after baby before I actually had the baby were just insane (you guys, I actually bought an online language course, because you know, staying at home with a newborn who needs your attention 24/7 just lends itself perfectly for learning an entirely new language), I was able to accept who I was and where I was. I accepted those 9 extra pounds that aren't just falling off. I accepted that my arms and legs are a little flabbier and my clothes a little tighter. I accepted that I was no longer a daily runner and that writing would have to be on hold. And through acceptance, I found contentment. I even found happiness. When you aren't so focused on what you aren't able to do, you can really focus and be happy about what you are doing. And, let me tell you, taking care of this little nugget is the greatest thing in the world to be doing.</div>
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But, I am back. I'm slowly - very slowly - trying to get back out on the trail. I don't know what this new version of me as a runner will look like (I have a feeling it might be more like a new version of me as a walker). And, I can't imagine what me as a writer is going to look like. But, I will be here. Less fit and less often, but I will be here.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-45682435054413188972016-03-30T11:53:00.000-07:002016-03-30T11:53:14.682-07:00Bright Idea<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here's a bright idea for you:</div>
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When deciding to go on your first run in many months after having a baby, pick the morning when it is 95% humidity, drizzling, and hot. </div>
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I am more than comfortable blaming my smart running choices on mommy-brain.</div>
Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-31715497059019451552015-10-29T18:17:00.000-07:002015-10-29T18:17:13.707-07:00Belly Up To The Bar(re)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like I've done a lot of writing about what I can't do anymore (run, sleep on my stomach, tie my shoes, go more than an hour without having to pee). So, I thought it might be time to tell you what I am still doing. Namely, The Bar Method. I'm down to the teens in days left of this pregnancy, but that hasn't stopped me from, literally, bellying up to the bar(re). I have been consistently hitting up Bar Method classes throughout the last 37+ weeks and I do believe it has made a difference in not only how I look, but more importantly, how I feel while I'm pregnant. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoc_KOZAGDO2ItWb-XK0v4eggiIiHYrmJK0WIkCRb1P_SIT_A_0ivp2FRgnqPdyYAe_lbZNJBRdlEWviczCdC3u349BOmQxg9TmRQhwKlnsQ6TLBLi3ahGN4qN6FghKl8dEn7LX1s2QBE/s640/blogger-image-1316323866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoc_KOZAGDO2ItWb-XK0v4eggiIiHYrmJK0WIkCRb1P_SIT_A_0ivp2FRgnqPdyYAe_lbZNJBRdlEWviczCdC3u349BOmQxg9TmRQhwKlnsQ6TLBLi3ahGN4qN6FghKl8dEn7LX1s2QBE/s400/blogger-image-1316323866.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few things I have found doing Bar Method pregnant:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. They have specific modifications you must do either as soon as you are pregnant (ie: no splits) or when you hit 20 weeks. I absolutely love this about The Bar Method. Knowing that they have researched, reviewed, and vetted exercises as safe specifically for pregnancy gives me an ease of mind that I can't find in other classes. Often times in group classes the mentality is, "do what you can do." And it's up to you to modify the moves as you see fit. Let's be honest, very few of us know the anatomy behind each exercise, let alone the impact of pregnancy on your body as it relates to the anatomy of those exercises. For example, I certainly wouldn't have known to avoid spinal twisting when pregnant. I also wouldn't have thought twice about sliding into the splits pregnant. Luckily, The Bar Method has taken the guess-work (and therefore, the potential for injury) out of exercising while pregnant. If you want more information on how to modify during class, here is a great link: </span><a href="http://barmethod.com/the-workout/your-questions/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://barmethod.com/the-workout/your-questions/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. It doesn't hurt....well, any more than it usually hurts. I have no "extra" pain doing The Bar Method due to pregnancy. I shake and sweat just like always, but there's no added pain that comes along with class. I haven't found this to be the case with other activities. I've found running/walking/anything with impact to be pretty painful to my pelvis and low back, which means I've either had to stop doing those activities or modify them so much that I'm not really sure I'm getting any benefit from them. It's so nice to do something where I can still "go all out," even with my tummy sticking all out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. You can do all class levels. You don't have to stick to the basics when Bar Methoding pregnant. You can challenge yourself as much as you'd like. Because you will modify any moves that aren't safe for you while pregnant, you can take any class you'd like. I actually started taking the new Bar Move classes when I was significantly pregnant and I absolutely love them. Side note: If you have not tried a Bar Move class at Bar Method, YOU MUST! It's a great class that will get your heart pounding and your legs shaking. Trust me on this, once you've taken enough entry level classes to be familiar with all of the moves and set-ups, you should get into a Move class. I've even dared a few level 2 classes while pregnant. Let's face it, just because you're carrying another person around in your belly doesn't mean you don't sometimes want a good challenge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. Sorry cardio-queens (myself included), working your muscles is the best preparation for actual birth. During my very first pregnancy appointment with my doctor, I remember her asking about my workout habits. I told her that I was a runner and that I did Bar Method. After describing Bar Method moves to her, she got wide-eyed and said, "you should keep that up as long as possible. It sounds like it really works your core and you're going to need that for birth." Her face and her words pop into my head every time we move into flat back during class. No matter how hard it is to engage my abs (or lack of abs) and lift my feet, I just start thinking about birth and up they go. Look, it's my first kid, and I wont lie, birth is a terrifying prospect. If a few minutes of hard ab work during class is going to make it easier for me, I'm all over it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. The other Bar ladies! Nothing makes you feel better than sweating and shaking with a group a super awesome ladies. And, I cannot tell you how supportive all of the ladies have been of me during this pregnancy. Not a class goes by without at least one person asking how I'm doing and cheering me on. The Bar Method community is seriously one awesome group of girls.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6WqmlX161Py_ynk_qv_EdlgclIKqoyH-CyCqiaMeFbyr_azx-41LWV8d2GDieTNYzOO5npDE06tsybbzuIpa62wdGBfunvW_Ig4dQFABMBRvJvbqayV_63RE2sPc43kNThgJp2hKCj0/s640/blogger-image-1099152296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6WqmlX161Py_ynk_qv_EdlgclIKqoyH-CyCqiaMeFbyr_azx-41LWV8d2GDieTNYzOO5npDE06tsybbzuIpa62wdGBfunvW_Ig4dQFABMBRvJvbqayV_63RE2sPc43kNThgJp2hKCj0/s400/blogger-image-1099152296.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484535454348154285.post-64752182117700493072015-09-22T08:06:00.000-07:002015-09-22T08:06:23.467-07:00No-Run Randomness<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just a couple random thoughts from my no-run Saturday workout/donut run:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. This says "cryotherapy and floatation." Which, is apparently a thing and a thing opening soon near my local workout/donut spot. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGgbpcasC01FfUkAJa-ZQZAsa7vGs4oX5btPWM4JY9sxgwfr8nbnUPJ5id4-eiLOQJkGWA6JBcnGEC1-oATMpQwfsT6rD3P6EPxFmIJTGnLax-07IEF1XSOe3TQT8iJAIAR4Gtvd2YIs/s640/blogger-image--1282359537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGgbpcasC01FfUkAJa-ZQZAsa7vGs4oX5btPWM4JY9sxgwfr8nbnUPJ5id4-eiLOQJkGWA6JBcnGEC1-oATMpQwfsT6rD3P6EPxFmIJTGnLax-07IEF1XSOe3TQT8iJAIAR4Gtvd2YIs/s400/blogger-image--1282359537.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Isn't this just the saddest closed sign you've ever seen? It's so final. It's like they've lost all hope.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviuNgvDkW5r09t7z8RgbHZA82Yh4WV3uCH3WLOniAxHGDxcZXGDXsSKLBfWct8vUN6PpWzgC1gfj_5Zfc7Q0gomKKCi0CDE_nwIFuTmbr3x2_b5HYVVGMibdF8YSNUkCY1fWLPHaNIeg/s640/blogger-image-1958016966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviuNgvDkW5r09t7z8RgbHZA82Yh4WV3uCH3WLOniAxHGDxcZXGDXsSKLBfWct8vUN6PpWzgC1gfj_5Zfc7Q0gomKKCi0CDE_nwIFuTmbr3x2_b5HYVVGMibdF8YSNUkCY1fWLPHaNIeg/s400/blogger-image-1958016966.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. You know I love to have my t-shirts talk for me. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSm6tGV0AxZcafhZY1QEf3qJh7eDA_3Gcwb7X93w75iwcQPp4YXgF_yVtYXJV2RzsC9Z2d_JCPM6aZxFT0OFmnHFkYjpziwFYErogtxbakwG_dxDMPKJ1pKwNe8pYD-sTIAEqvlts7hrg/s640/blogger-image--644535443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSm6tGV0AxZcafhZY1QEf3qJh7eDA_3Gcwb7X93w75iwcQPp4YXgF_yVtYXJV2RzsC9Z2d_JCPM6aZxFT0OFmnHFkYjpziwFYErogtxbakwG_dxDMPKJ1pKwNe8pYD-sTIAEqvlts7hrg/s400/blogger-image--644535443.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Getting my whole body, including the belly, in one shot is becoming increasingly difficult. Also, I might consider applying a little makeup before my Saturday workout/donut trip.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBfEPwji_rU-lPMTLkM3iuudMkG0kGwDsbJy2nNuBVbjBdlmMp9uocQ60xp9Wefs-m28wDQizzaTUPJ_-MjFU9v83sf3lQudf95EAChGXVA1OgQI1r9niGB7vymob4qKhBEctS8Uptqs/s640/blogger-image-188802412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBfEPwji_rU-lPMTLkM3iuudMkG0kGwDsbJy2nNuBVbjBdlmMp9uocQ60xp9Wefs-m28wDQizzaTUPJ_-MjFU9v83sf3lQudf95EAChGXVA1OgQI1r9niGB7vymob4qKhBEctS8Uptqs/s400/blogger-image-188802412.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Be In The Now.</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need a reminder on this one as often as I can get it. Especially these days. With my impending stork delivery looming nearer and nearer, staying in the now is virtually impossible. I can't help but look forward and worry about the unknown of what's coming. Ahhh...wait, there it is. The error in my thinking. Of course I can help it. I am in control of my thinking and my worrying. I can choose to stay in the now. I can choose to be present in my life and experience all that is NOW instead of anticipating what is to come, or more accurately, my idea of what is to come. If I choose to be in the now I am truly living and not just being. Who knew you could get this much wisdom from an $8.99 Old Navy shirt?!?!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkKtixx-bEoMQf6eAyjJzN2nD6u9f4LlzMHdMaj-7uR-KDKzTGA59lhvAVj6ZB8_KWaUURmr7Syf_D8w45OJe0HdihK3vcqWYXb8HFQZwqj697D3wDUaZKEL4qw0zf3o8VX-BSz_Zoww/s1600/c3b1ffaa980933731ee7c1f008da0cbc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkKtixx-bEoMQf6eAyjJzN2nD6u9f4LlzMHdMaj-7uR-KDKzTGA59lhvAVj6ZB8_KWaUURmr7Syf_D8w45OJe0HdihK3vcqWYXb8HFQZwqj697D3wDUaZKEL4qw0zf3o8VX-BSz_Zoww/s320/c3b1ffaa980933731ee7c1f008da0cbc.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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Jessica Richardsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04220957046278015113noreply@blogger.com0