Daily Loaf

520+ – Miles Ran
16+ – Weeks of Training
10+ – lbs lost
8 – Toenails Lost
2 – Pairs of Shoes
1 - Bra Size
1 – Officially diagnosed reoccurring injury (ITB)

All this to run 26.2.

Leaving my hotel race morning, I stepped out onto an all but deserted street and began my lone pilgrimage to Grant Park, my heart all aflutter. Turning onto Michigan Ave I beheld the most amazing view of the city all aglow in the early morning, the street lined with runners, looks of determination, anticipation and a healthy dose of fear across their faces.

Start Corral - Upon arriving, I quickly found the open start corral and fell into the mid-nine-minute mile section. It was a balmy 33 degrees and this Florida girl was not prepared for the temps. I shivered and tried in vain to stay warm by chatting up the other runners. As the gun went off the crowd surged forward and “throw away” clothes exploded into the air and rained down around us. It was GO time.

Start – Mile 5 – As I crossed the start line I couldn’t help but get caught up in the moment; I screamed, I jumped up and down and I waved my hands up in the air like I just didn’t care. 26.2 lay before me and I was awestruck by the sights and the sounds of the city before me, the spectators all around. It was sensory overload and I relished in every moment of it! As we entered a tunnel, the sound of runners screaming and feet pounding the pavement was deafening. You could power the world over for days with the energy bouncing off those walls. By chance alone I managed to see my cousin Michelle and Beth around the two mile mark and it fired me up 10 times more than I already was; I was really doing this, I was running the Chicago Marathon. In that moment I realized Read the rest of this entry »

Attention those who run for fun or sport: There is a serious epidemic* occurring which could be personally affecting you. It’s called “Runner Boob Loss.”

Queue scary music.

Since you began running has your cup failed to runneth over? As your training progressed did you find that your chest, or chest plate rather, resembles that of a prepubescent 12-year-old boy? Have you found yourself creeping into the little girls department at Target to try on sports bras because you fail to fill a big girl bra? Do you find yourself wondering if doing the “We must, we must increase our bust” flexes could actually increase your bust? Do you experience boob envy while working out at the gym with non-runner girls? If so, you are a part of what I believe to be a widespread epidemic of diminishing proportions, and that is Runner Boob Loss.

Don’t get me wrong, I was never particularly well endowed in the that department to begin with, but where here the hell did my boobs go? And please, spare me the old boobs-are-fat-and-fat-is-the-first-thing-to-go response because my chunky monkey (ass) has an endless supply of fat and it most certainly hasn’t gone anywhere. Read the rest of this entry »

After reading fellow CL contributor Beth’s inspirational post about her running journey last week I thought it best to continue this baring of the soul and expand upon my own running journey. What better way for our readers to understand our obsession with running than to share a little piece of ourselves with you?

That story starts in Feb. 2008 with an insomnia driven, hyper-active redhead that just got dumped. Yep, there’s nothing quite like a good old fashioned dump fest to get a girl down. I was a drunk emotional wreck as yet another opportunity of “happily ever after” slipped through my fingers. I realized quickly that I needed to find an outlet for my emotions, bottled up energy and sexual frustration lest my friends disown me, so I started running again. I’ve always run, here and there, to get some cardio in, to help me sleep a little better but this time was different. This time I put a little more into it.

By July, I was starting to eye an upcoming 5K race and committed to the July 4th Watermelon 5K that Track Shack in Orlando puts on every year. With no real training other than a few runs a week and absolutely zero knowledge of how far/fast I was going, I hit Mead Gardens for my first 5K. Thirty some odd minutes later I huffed and puffed my way through the finish-line on the verge of puking my guts out — but I was exhilarated. I just ran a 5K. Read the rest of this entry »

Lots of sweat, heavy breathing, a final desperate surge to finish followed by the sweet release that leaves you in a euphoric state of bliss…

The youngin’s are doing it. Old people are doing it. You can do it alone or with a group. Some like it fast, while other’s prefer it slow. Heck even Hugh Heffner’s doing it.

Everyone is doing it; everyone is running. Gees, what did you think I was talking about? Perverts. Read the rest of this entry »