Go, Just Go! 1500 Miles by the End of the Year

milesFacebook reminded me of the highlights of my year yesterday. And from the photos selected, one might infer I did nothing but run all year. I know I did other things (school for one), but so far this year, I have run 1431 miles, more or less. A few months ago, I did some calculations and determined that with a little effort, I could eke out 1500 miles by year’s end. At the beginning of November, I was only 260 miles, or 130 miles per month, away from my goal. Since July, I’d been logging 130-135 miles easily, and I finished November with 134 miles, meaning I’d only have to run 126 miles in December. Piece of cake, no?

2015 so far
2015 so far

Why 1500 miles? It’s a nice, fat, juicy, round number. It represents five pairs of shoes—generally speaking each pair of running shoes lasts me about 300 miles. So far this year, I’ve gone through at least five pairs of shoes and I currently am rotating between three pairs: my Brooks Glycerin 12s for road runs, my Brooks Cascadia 10s for trail runs, and my new Brooks Ghost GTX (Gortex) for rainy days. Recently I’ve become pretty tight with the Gortex shoes—dry feet are happy feet.

Fifteen hundred miles represents about 577 laps around Lake Padden, my favorite route. Now, obviously I haven’t run all of my miles at Padden, but I’d venture to guess (oh, I don’t have to guess, my Nike app will tell me exactly) I’ve run 1105 miles around the lake so far this year or 425 laps. Damn. That’s a lot of laps! The rest of the miles have been sprinkled around a few other trails in Bellingham, in the Methow Valley, down the Oregon Coast, through Beaverton, and along the beach in Rincon Guayabitos, Mexico.

The view running along Netarts Bay in Oregon
The view running along Netarts Bay in Oregon
mexico
Running on the beach in Rincon Guayabitos, Mexico

Fifteen hundred miles signifies serious commitment and translates to over 170,000 calories burned at an average pace of 9:55/mile. I’ll admit, I’m a stats whore. Honestly, as a writer, and an English major, I wouldn’t have guessed numbers would be so important to me, but these numbers have gripped my imagination, and I can’t seem to not care about them.

Lake Padden Relay, ran solo. 10.4 miles.
Lake Padden Relay, ran solo. 10.4 miles.

So, here it is, December 17th, and I’ve managed to get in 68 miles. Last month I had closer to 75 miles after 17 days. But last month did not have gale force winds and driving rain nearly every day, all day, for weeks on end. Not that the weather has kept me from running. No, mostly it’s been a scheduling problem. Only twice have I chickened out and retreated to the warmth of my bed—but those two times represent the missing miles. What I’ve discovered is that running in the rain is never nearly as bad as I think it will be. But with Christmas coming up and some traveling in my future, I’m not sure I am going to make it. I’ve been doubling down on the miles when I can manage it, and I’ve been cramming in short runs when I don’t have time for long ones. Still. I guess the question now is, can I be okay with falling a few miles short of 1500?

Smelt Run in LaConner with April and Karen
Smelt Run in LaConner with April and Karen

I had the same goal last year and I came within 40 miles of 1500. I was fine because I know that 1460 miles is still a hell of a lot of miles, far more than I ever expected I would cover in a year. In fact, in 2012 I realized in early December that if I really applied myself, I would be able to post a total of 365 miles that year, or a mile a day. Admirable, I thought then. Until I sat in a writing workshop next to a woman who introduced herself as a marathon runner. I told her about my goal, and I asked her how many miles she ran in a year. “Two thousand,” she said. “If not more.”

Lake Padden, in full fall foliage
Lake Padden, in full fall foliage
Whatcom Falls, running low
Whatcom Falls, running low

“Oh,” I replied. “That’s a lot.” I did the math in my head—that’s a little more than five miles a day, every single day of the year. At the outset of 2015, I toyed with committing to running 2015 miles in 2015, but then a friend reminded me that would be about six miles a day every day, and I decided, as much as I love running and enjoy a challenge, I probably did not have it in me. No sense in signing up for something I was destined to fail from the outset. In fact, even though I had amassed so many miles in 2014, I did not have the confidence that I would be able to repeat my success the following year. I have this same sinking feeling at the beginning of each month when the Nike app sets the miles run back to zero and I have to watch them slowly amass, day by day, mile by mile.

Tulip Run
Tulip Run

I know I might seem a little obsessed with my statistics. I do love looking back and seeing the numbers: the miles, the times, the distance. It’s not about competition, only about how far I’ve come. How much I’ve improved. And lately, I’ve forgone races, realizing I don’t need the additional anxiety, tuning more into my own rhythms these days, running in order to feel good, to quell whatever anxiety I have in other areas of my life.

Sunrise from Taylor Dock
Sunrise from Taylor Dock

So, yes, Facebook. I have done a lot of running this year. And if I make 1500 miles, so much the better. If not, there’s always next year.

Cami and Pam at Whatcom Falls
Cami and Pam at Whatcom Falls

 

B is for Brooks, or How is it I Have SO Many Pairs of Running Shoes?

BA few months ago on one of my frequent forays through our local running store, I was lamenting having to buy yet another pair of shoes. I’d only been running seriously for a few months then, so I was likely only one or two pair into what has become a recurring event. The sales guy (I believe it was Steve G.) laughed. He of course has been running for a very long time. “You should see the mound of shoes I have!” He made a sweeping gesture. “My wife won’t let me keep them in the house anymore. They’re all in the garage.”

I guess the upside of needing a new pair of running shoes means I’ve been putting on the miles. I generally start to feel that familiar twinge in the bottom of my foot that signals it’s time to break out the wallet at around mile 300. Last year, I ran very nearly 1500 miles, which meant I ran through five pairs of shoes. One of the reasons I started running, instead of going to the gym, was that in theory running should be less expensive. Very little equipment needed, no membership fees. Yeah right.

Glycerin_2
Brooks Glycerin running the Turkey Trot

Running is not inexpensive. Not if you don’t want your body to break down. Not if you care about your feet, calves, shins, knees, and back. Not if you run on a variety of surfaces or in all kinds of weather. I currently rotate through three different pairs of shoes, all Brooks. Fun fact about Brooks running shoes: they are made just down the freeway from Bellingham in Bothell.The Brooks Glycerins, the cushiest of the trio, are great for flat surfaces, pavement, and going fast. Runners World Magazine listed them in its Fall Shoe Preview as perfect for the heavier runner—a description I took some exception to, but they are super comfy. So, whatever. The first time I wore a pair in a race, I came in as the first woman overall. Go figure.

My Cascadias are Brooks’ trail shoes—awesome for running over roots and rocks and uneven surfaces. I wasn’t sure I would like the Cascadias, so I bought an older model online for about half the original resale price. Now I love them and am looking forward to racking up the miles on them so I can get a new pair of the latest model.

cascadias
Brooks Cascadia 8. No pics of these in action.

Rounding out my current collection are the Ghost GTX, the Gortex-lined wonders that keep my piggies dry in this rainiest of climes. I am on my second pair of Ghost GTX—I wore my most recent pair the first time when I ran the Mt. Vernon High School Band Aid 10K. The skies opened up, and I ended up running through a thunderstorm, complete with lightning, massive amounts of rain, and rivers and rivers of cow, uhm, waste, one of the bonuses of running rurally.

The downside of a Gortex-lined shoe? They keep the water out, yes, but if it somehow comes over the top of the shoe, it also stays in. By the time I finished the Band Aid run, each shoe must have weighed five pounds and my feet were soaked and shriveled. Usually though, I avoid deep rivers of cow waste, and the GTX keep my feet nice and dry.

Ghost GTX
Brooks Ghost GTX, post Band Aid 10K. These are some wet dogs.

These days, I’m working on my own mound o’shoes which currently resides by the front door. I am not ready to relocate the mound to the garage because whenever I look at it, I’m reminded of just how far I’ve come.

No barefoot running
for me. These feet are well-clad.
My spoiled, pampered dogs