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  26.2 miles. I know what that is behind the wheel of car, I know what the looks like from a plane or a helicopter, even peddling on a bicycle, but on foot? I can't even begin to imagine how long that is or how much pain, sweat and tears it takes to run or walk 26.2 miles. I swore I would never run a marathon. I always said you couldn't pay me enough money to run a marathon. 26.2 miles is just plain old scary. And now I find my self training to complete my first marathon, the LA marathon in March, and no I'm not getting paid. I'm training to end stroke with the American Stroke Association, and I'm aiming to raise 20 thousand dollars that will be used to help fight against stroke.

The first thing I learned, is that with an enthusiastic group of people full of positive energy everything is possible. The second thing I learned, one must respect the distance, especially when you're someone like me who comes to the start line with bum knees and tweaked ankles.

We've been training for over a month now and the miles are starting to add up. My goal is to finish the marathon with the least amount of pain while raising the most amount of money. My training coaches, Bert and Jeanne from the ASA say that the best way to protect my joints is by doing a combination of running and walking. This makes me feel like I'll be out there until dark, but they assure me I won't. The key they say, is to walk fast when you take your breaks. This will minimize the impact on my joints.

I haven't figured out what my goal time, because I'm still working out the the pace for the run walk combination. But I'm shooting for under 5 hours.

Check back with me next week, and I'll fill you in on my run walk progress.


I Can't Believe It's Done!

I completed my first marathon in 4:22. I averaged 9:17 per mile until mile 18.6. Then I realized I had not had enough water, and my calves turned in rocks! It hurt. At that point my average mile slowly crept up 9:59. Every second of it ached. I know it was dehydration because it's happened before. I was being careful to take enough water and electrolytes, but I guess not careful enough.

I tried focusing on my posture, looking at the downtown skyline, thinking of family, friends, emails, how good I was going to feel when I finished, but nothing dulled the pain in my calves. They were so tight, I had to keep stopping to stretch. I was bummed because I knew the minutes were passing me by; I was angry at myself because I hadn't taken enough water and now I was in pain instead of enjoying this amazing experience.

And that leads me to this: I could tell you that I can't wait to do my next one, that it was awesome, that it was so much fun. I could, and while I'm sure those things are all true, they're not exactly true for me. Yes, of course I enjoyed some of it, but the truth is it was also grueling and painful; it took lots of preparation, and hours of pounding the pavement. I wonder what keeps repeat marathoners going back year after year.

Here's what I loved. I loved the volunteers handing us water, Gatorade, oranges, bananas, pretzels, and hard candy. I enjoyed reading the colorful signs. I was inspired by the older man who looked like he was at least 70 and was wearing a small sign that said "marathon #52." I loved the group in Korea Town wearing the blue and white kimonos, the smell of Mexican sweet bread as we ran by the panaderias, the smell of bacon wrapped hotdogs, the kids high fiving us, the drummers, the dancers, the radio stations, the music, the coat guy who ran the entire marathon in dress shoes and a black suit while carrying a waiter's platter with a champagne bottle and flute. I know, because we ran about the same pace. Heck he might have come in before me.

Los Angeles is an amazing city. It's sprawling, it's colorful, dingy, beautiful, and gritty. The diversity is extraordinary. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but when else will you accept food or drink from a stranger on the street? When else are you going to run or walk into a community you've never been to and feel welcomed or cared for? It takes disasters to bring us together, to erase socio-economic barriers, to remind us that we all walk one foot in front of the other. Sunday was no disaster. Cramps, blisters, aches, no matter what I felt, the 26.2 mile route that started in the Cahuenga Pass and finished in downtown LA, was the coolest party I've ever been to.

So yes, I loved running the marathon, but not because I got a runner's high, not because I did something that less than one percent of the population does, or because I have a medal, but because you were there. You encouraged and took care of me and over 20 thousand of my crazy friends who ran through your streets.

I'm not going to say I'll never run another marathon, because you just never know. I am going to thank you for all of your support, best wishes, good thoughts and prayers. Thank you for supporting me in my small endeavor to raise money for Train To End Stroke.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez March 11, 2008 5:48 a.m


It's Go Time!

I think I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want to start by thanking everyone who's logged on to read about my journey and for your generous support. ASA is a great organization that works tirelessly to educate us about making healthier choices.

My goal is to raise $20,000. I'm still working on it, and am really close. Part of the money will be used in part for education and research, which makes me very happy! Thanks to all who have so generously donated to a great cause! I couldn't have done it without you.

It's difficult to imagine that I'm done. I don't see myself doing another marathon, but as I look back, I'm thankful for the opportunity to be part of something extraordinary. The training has been painful, joyful, grueling, educational and inspirational. Trust me when I say that there were many mornings when my alarm clock went off and all I wanted to do was stay in bed, especially when I got in my car and the thermostat read 38 degrees. At times I just wanted to cry and sometimes, I just did. I'd get a little bitter, but I'd keep driving to Griffith Park.

Then I'd get there and see the group talking, moving from side to side to keep warm, while others curled into themselves to preserve warmth. It's then that I'd realize, I was in good company and somehow, it didn't hurt so much. It didn't stop hurting, it just became bearable.

The first three miles were always the toughest, as I imagine they will be on Sunday. Fortunately there is always a distraction at Griffith Park, a scrawny coyote, the smell of skunk or eucalyptus, the big cotton balls in the sky, the mountains, the other athletes feeling the same pain and determination as I felt. These little things caught my attention long enough to give me a respite from the long miles ahead. On Sunday, I'm hoping to enjoy the run as much as I did at the park.

The lessons have been painful, but I've been told I'm a quick study, so I won't be making the same mistakes. I will not take off my white gloves. I will drink water, and take electrolytes.

I've started drinking more water than I usually do, muscle cramps to due dehydration are deadly. I'm taking electrolytes just incase. I'll get a really solid night of sleep on Friday night in case I can't sleep on Saturday.

On Saturday, I'll pick up my bib and my timing chip, and then I'll get together with my team for a little carbo-loading at a pasta party. I'll lay everything out the night before so I don't forget anything and then head for the metro for my ride to the start.

Everyone talks about the runner's high. I unfortunately, have no idea what that is, I've ran 20 miles and have prayed that I experience the runner's high, but it never seems to knock on my door. I have one more chance. I'll let you know if it pays me a visit on Sunday.

Marathoning is supposed to be addicting, I'm not sure about that, perhaps if you're a masochist. I have no idea what Sunday will bring. Maybe I will fall in love and continue with the crazy sport, maybe I won't.

What I do know is that one day when some snot nosed kid is huffing and puffing behind me because I'm 80 and walking too slow, I'm going to smile at him or her and ask them if they've ever run a marathon!

Thanks again, and if you're running too, ready or not, baby, here we come! 

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Feb 28, 2008 9:55 a.m.


'Kneeding' To Keep Strong

When the doctor started the conversation by saying, "Look, this isn't going to be your best marathon, but at least you're going to be able to run," I was bummed and glad at the same time. Glad I would be able to run, especially after asking so many people for donations in support of the American Stroke Association. And bummed because this is my first marathon, and I wanted to really enjoy it. But as my pal Kent Shocknek says, "I'll play the hand I'm dealt."

So here's what a Baker's Cyst is. It's basically a sack of fluid behind your knee that sometimes causes pain and like in mine, sometimes ruptures. Here's how it starts, in order for your knee joints and tendons to function smoothly they need lubrication, synovial fluid, like oil on a hinge. If you have inflammation of the knee joints or have arthritis too much synovial fluid is produced. And when too much is produced it has to go somewhere, right? Well it ends up collecting in a sack in the popliteal (what I call the leg armpit) the area behind your knee. Sometimes it causes pain and sometimes it doesn't. Mine not only caused pain, but it also ruptured.

For me, the pain started after a 20-mile run. I rubbed the area enough to notice that there was a little lump behind my knee. I figured the pain would subside or be manageable. But as the days passed, the pain continued, so I thought I try acupuncture. Again not feeling much relief and after only being able to complete 10 miles of a 22-mile run, and only being three weeks from the marathon, I figured it was time for a MRI. After reading the MRI, Dr. Zipin concluded that there was wear and tear on my knee, edema and excess fluid. He also remembered that when I first called him, I told him that there was a lump behind my knee. So he put it together and concluded that my little sack had burst and that the fluid in the MRI was indeed synovial fluid.

I'll be seeing Dr. Zipin again today to let me know if I'll be able to run this weekend or not. Since I didn't complete my long run last week, I'm hoping to put in at least 10, but if things feel O.K. back there and Dr. Zipin says it's O.K., I'm shooting for 15. Experienced marathoners tell me that once you've hit 18 or 20, the rest is all mental. I certainly hope they're right, because at this point, I'm going to need all the good wishes, positive energy, prayers, and thoughts I can get.

But don't worry if you've supported the blog, I'm going to play the hand I'm dealt, and if that means limping across that line, I will. But don't worry; I'm not a limper either.

I'll keep you posted. 

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Feb 13, 2008 8:27 a.m.


Breaking Down To Build Up

It's down to the wire. I'm about three weeks from the marathon and I'm trying to keep it together, my body that is. I started acupuncture almost two weeks ago, and while I'm sure it will benefit me over the long run, I think the treatment is going to hinder my ability to get through the 26.3 miles on March 2.

So here's what's happening in a nutshell. My right hamstring is solid. I'd like to think it is solid muscle, but I know it's simply scar tissue. Years of hiking or running hills with heavy backpacks, or dumb bells or whatever else, have caused the scaring. So my right hamstring is really rigid, like the blue rubber band that holds broccoli together at the grocery store.

The acupuncturist's goal now is to breakdown that scar tissue so that chi or blood can flow through it. She describes it as a congested freeway. The congestion runs up and down the back of my leg, blocking my chi so that my body doesn't get all the "stuff" it needs to go the distance. It sounds like a freeway with blocked lanes.

Well, as all those tiny needles are stuck into your muscles; it causes some degree of bruising. And here is where I am. I know I need to continue with the treatment to get better, I just think that at this point, all that little bruising is really going to impede my running. And unfortunately, it's that controlled breakage that will eventually get rid of the knots in my muscles.

The knot behind my knee that originally drove me to the acupuncturist is just barely there. I think that if I leave it alone, it should be healed by D-day.

O.K., I think that's the update. Thank you for clicking onto the blog and supporting a great cause. I'll let you know how I do on Saturday after 22 miles. 

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Feb 8, 2008 5:44 a.m.


Down But (Hopefully!) Not Out

O.K. guys, I think I may be in trouble. During Saturday's 20 miler, I think I may have injured myself.

The area behind the knee, which I call the "leg armpit," but technically called the popliteal is giving some serious trouble. I had my knee brace on, and I think that may have put to much pressure on it. My laces were also tied to tight, so I felt like the circulation was a little impeded, after all, I was out there for three hours. Anyway, the tendon back there hurts enough that I can't run. On Tuesday I was due for an hour run. Well no-can-do baby! My leg said no!!! In fact, I could barely walk the mutt two miles, before the discomfort started to creep into my knee.

Usually, I would blow through it, but part of endurance sports is being intelligent enough to listen to your body, so that if it's injured or stressed you give it recovery time. Can you imagine? I get this far and then injure myself? No way. In the long run keeping off of it, keeps you healthy and in the game. So I sat out, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and I may do yoga instead. I've been stretching, and while that alleviates the discomfort, it still doesn't feel right.

I haven't iced it, mostly because I hate being cold. I'm always cold; I don't even drink water when it's cold. So you can imagine my aversion to ice packs. Yuck!

So yesterday, after my two mile walk with the mutt, I jumped online and found an acupuncturist. I hope Dr. Zippin, my doctor doesn't read this, but I really think now is the time for me to try acupuncture. I've wanted to try it for years, but I don't like medical offices -- eastern, western, holistic and otherwise. I don't like them period. Dr. Zippin happens to be my neighbor, so it's convenient.

Anyway, I'm hoping that the deep tissue, or in this case deep tendon therapy provided by the acupuncture, will ease whatever funkiness is going on back there so I can do my ten on Saturday and most importantly my 22-miler the following week.

I'm not going to start panicking, but if Saturday rolls around and I still can't run, I calling someone darn it. I don't know to whom, but I'm calling someone. MOM!!!!!!

Have a good thought for me. 

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Jan 30, 2008 10:05 a.m.


Milestone? Try 20 Of Them!

On Saturday the team I hit a huge mark, 20 miles. 20 miles! Never did I imagine that I would run 20 miles, but I did.

I tried not to think about it so I wouldn't get nervous, but it loomed over me all week. On Friday night though, as I talked with my mom and sister, I started to get excited. Telling them about the methods I had learned to practice when pain and fatigue threatened to overtake me eased the stress of the long miles ahead.

The two most helpful tips I've learned are focusing on my form and observing what's going on around me. When I'm tired and in pain, I slouch, pull my shoulders to my ears producing tension, drop my arms, and most importantly focus on how poor I feel.

So when I catch myself mentally whining, I readjust my posture, engaging my core, leading with my chest, lifting my head, relaxing the shoulder, bending my arms in a 90 degree angle, and finally making sure that I'm taking deep, long, even breaths.

I know this doesn't sound like much, but remembering to do these things keeps your mind occupied on something other than the pain.

And speaking of keeping occupied, taking a moment to see the squirrels, the occasional coyote, the clouds, saying good morning to the "Kids Run LA" group, the other teams in training, the runners and cyclists, all of this helps. When you stop and acknowledge what's going on around you, it's amazing. Knowing that you're of this world and living it to the fullest and that by being out there, you're making a difference -- well what can I say? When someone says good morning to me, I'm so grateful. It tells me that I'm not invisible, that I matter, that sweating and hurting isn't for nothing. Trust me, we're all in pain out there, and when you flash me a smile, the peace sign, or simply give me a nod, I know I'm your with me.

The other component of manageable pain is nutrition. There is going to be pain. This hurts, plain and simple. If it didn't hurt, you'd be a freak of nature or made out of plastic. The goal is endurable pain. And that means fueling your body, so it can do what you are making it do.

While I was once against taking anything, including water for fear of cramping up, through one really bad "hitting the wall" or "bonking out" experience, I've changed. Now I eat a banana with peanut butter before I leave the house. I have electrolyte jelly beans or blocks for cramping which means extra salt. I hydrate every three to six miles, and I take ibuprofen. Yes even ibuprofen to manage the tightness and soreness that runs up and down my right hamstring because of the hills.

So that was last Saturday. This coming Saturday down to ten then the following week, back up to 22. Have good thoughts for me.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Jan 30, 2008 10:05 a.m.


Get By With A Little Help From Your Friends

Go Runner, said the cyclist, as he flew by me. "Good morning," I replied trying to curl the corners of my mouth into a smile.

His words, made me lighter, they were just what I needed. I think that's what we all need, a smile, a nudge, a word of encouragement, especially through the hills and bumps. I'm not talking about the ones at Griffith Park, but life ones, you know what I mean.

Every 45 seconds someone in the U.S. suffers a stroke and about every three minutes someone dies of a stroke. That's an astonishing statistic and unless we team up, that statistic isn't going to improve.

So that's what we're doing at Train To End Stroke. Some are running, some are donating, and others volunteering, the work is being done.

On Saturday morning our assignment was 18 miles. I have to admit, I worried about it all week. I was afraid of cramping up, I was worried about my hamstrings, hoping my ankles, despite the braces would hold up, fretting the about the water, what if I didn't drink enough or too much, should I eat or not, do I take ibuprofen. By Friday, I worked myself up silly.

Then on Friday mom and I were unloading groceries when she said to me, "don't worry, if anyone can do it, you can." I stopped dead.

What? Who is this woman, and what did she do with my mother? She looks like my mom, but doesn't sound like my mom. This lady was being positive and encouraging. Wow!

Don't get me wrong, my mom's just a worry wart. She usually, harps about my knees, ankles, the impact of running on your joints, and how she doesn't understand why I do such things. So while I was shocked, it was welcomed. My mom has always been on my team, but now she was working with me instead of fighting me.

At mile nine, Kevin and I decided, we were going to finish the run together. And so we did. We slowed down, we climbed, we flew, we stopped for water, and we talked each other through the last nine. We had the volunteers at the water stops cheering us on. Even "The King" made an appearance. Okay, so it wasn't Elvis, but the fact that Patrick and Carlos were there in costume taking care of us, was a huge boost!

When we reached home base, we were both exhausted but smiling and feeling great! Yes, we would have finished had we not ran together, but it was so much easier with a partner, or better yet, with partners. Running is an individual sport but it's less grueling with buddies.

You know what they say, misery loves company.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Jan 14, 2008 8:46 a.m.


Sprinting A Marathon?!

Even though we were expecting heavy rain on Saturday, Team Captain, Patrick called to say rain or shine we're there. So we stretched and started our short nine-mile run. Patrick suggested that in addition to the skipping we should try Fartleks.

Fartleks are incorporated for speed. You pick two spots, a starting point and stopping point. And then you hit it. As fast as you can from point A to point B. Sprinting, I thought? Who has the energy to sprint while trying to complete 26.2 miles? But it was something different, so I didn't argue. Sometimes having something new to look forward to keeps you going. Besides after last week's 16 miles and cramps, I was happy to run nine, even with the sprints.

Keep in mind we didn't run Fartleks throughout the entire run. We only practiced sprinting for about the last three quarter's of a mile. I was expecting to be completely spent after the first one, but Kevin, my team mate was right. I was not spent. It was in fact invigorating. I hadn't burst out like that, since high school!!! Oh dear, it seems like a million years ago! I didn't think my little legs had any hustle in them, but it was great. I felt like a kid as I pumped my arms and spun my legs. It was cold, damp and muddy; it really made me feel carefree. With the chilly wind in my face, I chased Patrick, who chased Kevin. It was like the black top at recess at Mitchell Elementary. That was a lot of fun.

Never mind the soreness that followed and is still with me -- it was worth. When you go peddle to the metal, so to speak, you use large muscle groups like the gluteus maximus and the hamstrings, which keep in mind, are already getting a decent beating with all the hills at Griffith Park. There is what we call the "Reverse Hill Loop," which is about one mile of steady incline. It's not super steep, but steep enough so you have to adjust your form to get through it.

This Saturday, I'm a expecting eighteen miles, so I'll have a pack of electrolyte jelly beans, a little water and some IB to prevent much of the pain. I'm don't like taking stuff, but sometimes you need to. Beside coaches, Jeanne and Bert say this is the time to experiment. This is when you need to figure out what you need to do training and nutrition wise to make race day the most positive experience you can have.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Jan 9, 2008 8:31 a.m.


The Body Is 60 Percent Water

Like a warrior suiting up for battle, I gear up. Ankle and knee braces, three layers to protect me from the cold, gloves, hat, clothes post run, electrolyte jelly beans, water, MP3 player, menthol patches for cramps, and of course the weather. Saturday, it was cloudy skies.

The mental preparation is a whole other thing. On Saturday, Patrick, one of the team captains explained some of the games you can play during the marathon to keep you motivated while breaking the monotony. The object of one is to focus on someone's bib until you catch and pass that person and then zero in on the next… and the next and so on. He also suggested skipping, yes, skipping when our legs become fatigued. Skipping, while very similar to running uses different muscles and therefore seems like a respite from the grueling miles logged and those ahead.

This past weekend we completed 16 miles. And all in all I felt great, even with new ankle braces and changes in nutrition and hydration. I felt great, that is, until mile 14. In two miles, my run completely fell apart. My hamstring began cramping up. I stopped to stretch relieving the pain for a moment, but as I got closer to the end, the cramping continued. Eventually even the muscles in my claves turned into dry, brittle rubber bands.

The last mile was a steady incline, so without a second thought; I stopped for a menthol patch. The patched masked the pain for a moment but that was it. I kept running, or better yet trotting, chocking down groans and mouthfuls of air. My steady even pace and breathing was gone. I looked for Kevin to pass me by on his way back to signal the end of what felt like torture. Knowing how much pain I was in, Patrick ran out to meet me. I was hoping for a piggy back ride, but instead he coached me in. It was exactly what I needed. I struggled to get to home base, but there I was, carried in by my legs and the kind words of Kevin and Patrick.

Bert, my running coach, said ultimately it was a lack of hydration that did me in. He also said that I should start taking electrolytes and water sooner to prevent the cramping instead of when they're present. Once the cramps started, I was done. On the next long run, I'll start hydrating at the three mile mark and every three miles after. The lesson learned this week, as in anything, proactive is better than reactive.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Jan 1, 2008 9:14 a.m.


Lesson Learned: Preparation Is Paramount

After the previous week's dreadful experience, I took no chances; I bundled up from head to toe before heading to Griffith Park.

When I left home last week, the thermometer read 41 degrees. Chilly doesn't begin to describe how cold it was. By mile nine, the sun was bright, and I thought that it had warmed up enough to take off my gloves. WRONG!!!!!!

I kept waiting for it to feel better, but by mile 10, I realized I wasn't going to warm up any more. My fingers ached. I was so cold and wet from the sweating that I could barely breathe. I felt as though I would hyperventilate, and I still had three miles to go.

As I gasped to breathe, my body felt the lack of oxygen and my muscles cramped up. My calves had turned to rocks and every step was torture. I wanted to cry; I was in that much pain. Every step that took me out of the warm sunlight and into the cold shade just plain hurt.

Rounding the corner at Crystal Springs and Griffith Park Boulevard, brought me a bit of relief, I could see home base. I still however, felt like I was carrying a cement block on my back.

I was happy to see home base and stop, but the throbbing did not subside. My calves hurt so much, I couldn't stand or sit. Miserable doesn't describe it.

But oh baby, what a difference a scarf and gloves make. This week was just as cold, but because I didn't take anything off, I felt like a million bucks. At mile 13, my teammate Kevin and I gave each other a high five. One more to go baby! I could see the dry salt and minerals on his skin, but it was his smile I focused on. We were on the home stretch.

Sure my right arch ached and I had shooting pain up my right leg, but heck I was about to finish a 14 mile run. I was supposed to be in some pain, If I didn't hurt, I wouldn't be running, I'd be in my warm cozy bed.

While Kevin and I moved along, we lamented about the fact that while you're out there, it's always something. Whether it's how loose or tight your laces are tide, how cold or hot it is, how much rest you got, what you ate the night before. It's never perfect; it's never pain free. But marathoning isn't about perfection or ideal conditions; it's about enduring no matter what the conditions are and having the experience and respect to know when it's enough. 

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Dec 18, 2007 8:41 a.m.


Half Way There, Livin' On a Prayer?

I feel like I'm half way there. My coach Bert says half the run is mental, the other physical and sometimes, the mental race is tougher than the physical one. The start of the race is crucial, how do keep yourself from getting caught up in the frenzy and bolting off the start? That's the challenge.

Sunday morning was clear and cold. It was beautiful with the sun rising to the east behind the Gene Autry Museum. We huddled around the heat lamps providing warmth for the two thousand plus that gathered at Griffith Park for the second annual City Of Angles Half Marathon. Some had plastic bags, others ear warmers and mittens, anything to keep warm.

So while I struggled to keep warm, I tried not to worry too much about the 13.1 miles ahead me. I thought about Bert's advice. He said to keep my total time at two hours and five minutes. I could go longer than that, but not shorter. He cautioned me about speeding off the start and burning out and most importantly respecting the distance and my knees.

Fortunately for me, even if I had wanted to bolt, I couldn't. I was in the back two thirds of the pack. When we finally started, it was a nice leisurely jog. I really tried to keep on eye on the clock but the scenery was lovely, the people were friendly, and well, I was just plain distracted. There were Japanese and African drummers, marching bands, a Mariachi group, and several other musical groups along the scenic route that took us from Griffith into Silverlake down to the Disney Concert Hall.

So I did just what Bert said, I ran my race. I took a breaks when I needed them, kept a brisk walk when I did stop, I ate my electrolyte jelly beans at mile seven, I had a few sips of water, talked with my fellow runners along the way, and before I knew it, I was rounding the corner into the tunnel that would lead me to the finish line. Thirteen point one miles in 1:58, a 9 minute mile pace. I'm hoping for a ten and a half minute mile pace for the marathon in March.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Dec 14, 2007 9:54 a.m.


Taking A Proactive Stand

I was about to turn onto the freeway when I heard our sister station, KNX 1070, report that once again Malibu was on fire. Luckily there were strike teams in place in case another fire broke out. It was a beautiful fall morning, the sky was clear, the air was crisp, the bright sunlight was streaming through the trees when I got to Griffith Park for my weekly training.

When we finished stretching, I heard Jeanne say, "Today we're doing ten miles." I heard ten miles, but it didn't really register.

You'll leave here, go to Los Feliz, cross over to the right, go up the hill that will bring you back here, you'll continue to Victory, then blah, blah, blah, it finally hit me, 10 miles. How long was that going to take, when would the pain set in? I could see Jeanne talking, but I didn't hear a word she said. What am I doing here? Why am I here? I looked to my teammates for inspiration; I looked for Pilar, who the previous week had inspired me to run. But nothing. I was on my own.

I put my headphones on and shifted into auto pilot so I wouldn't think of the distance ahead. The miles started clocking in and thankfully the pain wasn't unbearable.

As the thoughts drifted in and out, I thought about the fire raging in Malibu, I switched the MP3 to the radio, where I heard them say, that several homes had been lost, but thankfully there were no injuries. I was thankful for the proactive stand and all the units that had been brought in just in case.

Then I realized why we were out there. This is our proactive stand. Our stand against stroke. The miles we clock will not only help us, but with the help of donations we raise, the miles we clock will also help others.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Nov 27, 2007 8:15 a.m.


Fueling Your Engine

Well now that Thanksgiving is here and everyone's talking about food, it makes sense to touch on the subject of nutrition.

Keeping our bodies fueled and our minds clear is something that Bert and Jeanne stress. Finding the right combination of electrolytes, what to have for breakfast, and how much water to drink are all as important as wearing the right shoes. So here's what we learned about fueling up for the big day or any long run that starts in the morning.

Believe it or not, it's all carbs. And these day, the poor carbohydrate can't seem to catch a break, it's on almost everyone's no-no list. But don't discount the carb, even if it's white toast with peanut butter, a banana, a small bowl of oatmeal; these all work well. If you're running or walking long distances, they're simple to break down and easy to absorb. Carbohydrates are not great for you if you're not burning them because that's when they're converted and stored as fat. But if you're going to walk or run for at least a couple of hours, chances are you're going to go through them.

Proteins take longer to digest, so you want to avoid them for breakfast. Your body needs to be able to focus on your muscles, and not on performing the extra task of digestion. If you're body is still breaking down eggs and bacon when you start your run or walk, it's going to reduce the delivery of blood and therefore oxygen to your legs and arms. In addition, it's not going to have fuel ready to burn when you need it, so you may end up feeling a little sluggish on the route.

O.K., so here's what to remember, while you're training for any endurance competition, it's important to try out a variety of fuels -- whether a goo gel, a banana, oatmeal, electrolytes, dried fruit -- whatever you think will work, so that on race day you know exactly how your body will react to whatever you put in it. It's like rehearsing or training. Try to eliminate the guess work.

'Til next time.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Nov 22, 2007 9:11 a.m.


Sometimes The Motivation Finds You

My alarm goes off. It's 6:30 Saturday morning. I hurt. I remember the previous night at the Karaoke bar.

Everything is laid out, so I can stay in bed an extra five.

Are we running six or eight? It doesn't matter; the thought of putting one toe outside of my warm flannel sheets pains me.

My mind is foggy; I think of Griffith Park, the hills and I groan.

I drag myself out of bed. I get ready and reluctantly head toward Griffith Park.

It's cold and damp. I remember my comfy bed and think of the task ahead. Who needs eight hours anyway?

By the time I get there, the group is gathered. I see my team and forget about my cozy bed.

Smiles and good mornings are exchanged, and I start feeling better.

Part of the fun of being on a team is sharing our challenges. We talk about other races, gear, nutrition, everything, the fatigue, the cramps, and the blisters that bring tears to our eyes. But this time, it's not the usual pain that makes us well up.

We listen as one of our pals tells us that she had completed a half marathon the previous weekend. The usual cheers ring out. She continues her story saying that she had already joined the team and started training, when her dad had a stroke. Everyone gets very quiet, but then she says her dad was at the finish line, waiting for her. We all cheer, and that was it, there was nothing more to say.

With lumps in our throats, we were all glad to be there no matter how many miles or hills were ahead of us.

-Posted by Vera Jimenez Nov 19, 2007 10:27 a.m.

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