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Monday, October 14, 2024
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Arm Swing

The four main components of the Chi Running form are posture, lean, heel lift and arm swing. This blog entry discusses arm swing.

In Chi Running the arms are completely relaxed from the hands all the way up to the shoulder. They are also constantly bent at a 90 Degree angle and swing at the same cadence as your legs. Keep your shoulders relaxed and down and let your arms hang down from the shoulder socket.

This 90 Degree angle because it creates the shortest arm length, which also is the easiest length to swing. To emphasize the point try swinging straight arms (longest length) versus arms bent at 90 Degrees (shortest arms) and notice the difference in effort.

The arms swing at your side front to back with a slight angle inwards in front of you but never crossing your centerline. If they swing past your centerline, they create momentum in the sideways direction rather than to the front, which wastes energy.

You never swing your elbows further forward than your ribs. This throws your legs forward which can cause heel strike and also rotates the shoulders. You also never swing your wrists further back than your ribs.

Your arms swing like pendulums from the ball in the shoulder socket and as separate entities from your shoulders. This is to ensure your shoulders don’t swing with the forward and backward movement of the arms. In Chi Running your shoulders always point forward, and never rotate. If your shoulders rotate they reduce your stride length and you lose speed.

You swing you arms to the rear like you are elbowing someone behind you rather than swinging them to the front like you are punching someone in front of you. Once your arm is swung to the rear, just let it fall forward using gravity. Swinging their arms to the rear instead of forward will keep their shoulders stable and not rotating along with the arms. This helps stabilize everything above the midpoint of your spine. It’s everything below this midpoint that rotates when you run.

An error in judgment

Ah, vacation.  That time when I can run when I feel like it, no pressure to be back in time to get ready for work, or in time to wind down for bed.  When I can look out the window at 2:30 in the afternoon and think, “the weather is perfect for running!” and actually go because I am not stuck at work.

It’s like a free pass, really.  Well, almost.  You see, I went for a run the other day with this mindset of reckless abandon, and it turned out to be a bit of an error in judgment on my part.  The fancy to run struck at about 7:30 in the evening.  I don’t normally run in the evening, and I had been planning a rest day. But I saw that the weather was just right, and that the next day, when I had planned to run again, they were predicting heat and humidity, two of my mortal enemies.  So I took my time in getting ready and headed out ad about 8:00 pm. stupid

I started out from home and as I got to the edge of town I had a quick look around and thought, the light is so nice, everything is golden, I have plenty of time to get back before it gets dark.  That is precisely where the error occurred.  I headed out of town on an 80-kph road.

From there it all happened rather suddenly.  The sun dipped lower on the horizon, and suddenly, it got quite dusk-like.  I thought, uh-oh, maybe I should turn around early.  So I kept running until I got a clear spot in traffic and started to head back towards town.  By this time I calculated I had about 3K before I was back safely within town limits and sidewalks resumed.

In that 3 K it got quite dark.  Now, if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you have probably guessed that I am a bit of a stickler for safety.  I have reflective clothing, blinking lights, and very anal standards about where, when and how to run.  And I was, during those 3K, in violation of just about all but about one of them (I was still on the correct side of the road, facing traffic, you see).  So I hugged the edge of the shoulder tightly and watched every oncoming vehicle for some subtle sign to indicate whether or not they had seen me, prepared to jump into the ditch if necessary.

To all of the drivers that passed me that night and muttered “idiot” under your breath – you’re absolutely right.  And to the drivers who didn’t, I’m sure it was only because you didn’t see me.

This was a good reminder for me to be aware of safety and surroundings at all times – even when I am on vacation.

Date Night

My husband and I went to the movies the other night but asked the babysitter to come over an hour and a half early.

As she walked up the driveway, the girls ran to her. And then we donned our sneakers and went for a run together. Up a hill and then through the woods. watching for roots and rocks, stumps, as my husband ran ahead of me and the dog let her tongue fall far out of her mouth. Careful not to slip on the broken slate, pushed up a hill, the dog turned back to me, happiness in her eyes.

My legs were burning and my lungs were screaming as I tried to keep up with my husband. Down the hill to a lake where we rested and threw a stick for the dog. Turned around and home again, my ankles were tired, my legs were lead weight. We snuck back into the house (the kids were outside) and rinsed off, got ready quickly for our movie. Gave goodbye hugs and kisses and don’t-forget-to-brush-your-teeth’s.

Cheeks still flushed and we left the windows down on the drive to cool off. He reached over and squeezed my leg.

It was the best date we’ve had in a while. And the movie stunk.

Summer Runnin’, had me a blast…

I ran a half marathon in June and a sprint tri in July. I had the best intentions of doing another sprint in September, and a half in February and, and and…

Last week someone asked me what my next goal was and I kind of gaped, open-mouthed, like a fish and stuttered, “Uh… I don’t know.”

And I don’t. Summer’s winding to a close and I just kind of want to enjoy it, instead of focusing on a race. I’m not very good at balancing all things in my life and find that when training revs up, something else suffers. I believe that eventually, I’ll figure it out as I’m not willing to stop racing, but still. Life has been quiet and lovely and warm and summery. The house has been cleaner, the kids sweeter, the nights cooler. We’re on vacation for two of the next three weeks, I don’t want to have to run while we’re away. I want to run because I want to run.

There’s a 1ok in September that I’ll probably do, it’s been a while and I think I could shave a good chunk off my previous time. My run clinic ends tonight, culminating in the Halifax Navy 10k next Sunday. I went for a run by myself (well, me and my dog) yesterday because it’s been so long since I’ve run alone, and it was… nice.

I’ve always claimed that I need a goal to stay focused, and maybe this upcoming 10k is a good one. But maybe I’m at a place where I can cruise for a couple months, in between. It’s been kind of nice.

I guess we all know who is in charge around here!

I sat my legs down for a little chat the other day.  A performance review, if you will.

I said, “legs, we need to talk.  I was disappointed with your performance today.”  They just looked at me in disbelief, so I went on. “Today was supposed to be our long run.  Key words were Long, and Run.  I know it has been a rough week, but we only went 2/3 of the distance we discussed.”

My legs looked at each other, then at me, and said “you’re not serious.”

I said, “Yes, I am serious! Two-thirds of the distance, and you complained the whole way.  Now, I am in charge around here, and…”  At this point my legs cut in.  They said “Listen here!  With all the cutbacks around here, you’re lucky you got that much out of us!”

It was my turn to stare in disbelief.  “Cutbacks?” I asked.

“Let’s start with rest,” said my right leg.  “We did the hardest boot camp workout we’ve ever done two nights ago, then yesterday morning you dragged us out for a not-so-easy run.  Then tonight you want a long run?  When will it end?”

Then my left leg chimed in: “And what about fuel?  I don’t know what all that garbage you have been shovelling in your face lately is, but it sure isn’t fuel!”

My right leg cut in again.  “And when did you stop drinking water? We might as well be the Tinman after a rainstorm!”

Then out of nowhere my right foot added, “you could have stopped for a second to dump that big, sharp rock outta my shoe, too.”  Followed by my lips, with:  “is it too much to ask to get a little chapstick around here?”

“Okay, now you’re all just ganging up on me,” I pouted.

My left leg said, “seriously, if you’re in charge around here, you need to act like it.”  My right leg advised, “we can’t meet your expectations unless you give us the resources we need.”  My stomach growled loudly.  The rest of my body murmured in agreement.

So it’s a good thing we had that little talk.  I left the meeting with a few action items:

  • Even when life is hectic, I will try to get adequate rest and fuel, and stay hydrated.
  • When that fails, I need to adjust expectations accordingly: be prepared to go slower, take walk breaks, or cut it short.
  • And most of all, quit blaming my body for not performing when it’s my own fault!

Armed with Knowledge

It’s hard not to happily lick dripping ice cream off a cone in the heat of summer, isn’t it? Or smack as you suck the barbeque sauce off your fingers after eating too many ribs. The perspiration on a cold glass of beer as you wash the car or build an extension onto your deck, the whipped cream that goes so well dolloped on juicy, local strawberries.

The women in my husband’s family are bakers. I’m not. Well, I make a mean birthday cake, a pretty solid apple pie and a quickly devoured pan of brownies, but I don’t spend one day a week baking. Especially in the summer (my general rule is: the oven only turns on when the temperature is below 22C). He grew up in a home where the after school snack was a handful (or three) of cookies, followed my milk, chugged straight from the bottle.

I made cupcakes with my girls this weekend. Steve works Saturdays and they were climbing the walls, so we mixed and poured and baked together. They love helping me, regardless of what I’m doing, so it was extra fun that the finished product was something delish instead of say, a folded basket of towels. They happily devoured the warm, unfrosted cupcakes after their lunch. We iced them after nap and hid them in the office for a grand presentation when Steve got home from work. They’re “I Love You, Daddy” cupcakes! My four year old gleefully exclaimed, extremely proud of her green sprinkles. Cake! Cake! Daddy! Cake! My two year old chimed in. We ate them all, too, over the next few days.

I worry about my kids, though, in this world where they will all too soon become aware of the unrealistic female ideal that is portrayed by our media outlets. As soon as they can read, they’ll start seeing that they could lose belly fat with this one easy trick! And they’ll see how celebrities are scorned for being so human as to have cellulite. And that’s just in the grocery store. Online, in school, in books and television shows, it goes on and on.

It’s frightening just how targeted children are. The most important task in my life is to protect those children, and I do, ferociously, against inappropriate cartoons and books, against the gag-inducing amount of princess marketing. My job is to keep them safe. And part of keeping them safe is keeping them healthy. So we eat no processed foods, mostly organic meats and vegetables. We talk about food, about the job it plays in your body. We talk about taking care of your body through exercise, be that running or yoga or walking or swimming or bike riding, or even just playing. I think it’s the most we can do.

The fact remains, however frightening and at times heartbreaking, that there will come a time when they grow away from me. It happens a little more each year, but eventually, I’ll have to let go. As young women, much too innocent to be out on their own (as we all were, once), they will be armed with what my husband and I have taught them. That it’s important to take care of your body, through exercise and food. That even after “Happily Ever After” there’s still a lot of work to be done. And maybe most importantly, that sometimes, cupcakes and dripping ice cream cones are ok. Even if they do spoil your lunch.

Growing Stronger

From the back of the car, my four-year-old daughter’s, Leila, clear little voice sang, When I get older, I will be stronger…

I asked her how she knew that song, she told me she hears it on the radio and likes it. Now every time it plays, I think of her.

As I drove home last night from my running group, wipers smearing raindrops across the windshield, it played through the speakers.

When I get older, I will be stronger.

How quite literally true for a four year old. It’s a simple concept really, and one that she has never questioned (nor should she). She sat on the bathroom counter this morning, watching my husband shave.

You have big arms, Daddy, she told him, but mine are just little. Her told her one day she’d have bigger arms, too.
How come your bone sticks out funny like that? she asked, pointing to his bicep.
It’s the muscle, he explained to her,  see how it can move when you move your arm up and down?

When I get older, I will be stronger.

I’m not sure when  exactly we lose faith in ourselves, but we do. Maybe it’s not that we lose it, but that it becomes a challenge to believe in its existence. Leila’s innocent belief that she will be stronger is nothing more than sheer faith. But as we grow (perhaps more cynical), faith can be hard to come by. Unfulfilled goals and un-taken paths sometimes make us feel that we don’t have what it takes to truly maximize this life.

In so many ways, life is so beautifully simple. Some days I’m quite sure I have discovered the secret to happiness, and I keep it here, in my home. It is love. It is the innocence of children and the love of a good man and warm suppers on rainy nights and wine on the porch after the kids are in bed and parents who are two of my best friends. It is laying beside my two-year-old in her new bed as her eyes grow heavy with sleep and it is spending the day alone with my four-year-old and it is the way I feel after a run and the sheer joy that transcends so many aspects of my life. It is reverence for the magic of the universe and how it has incomprehensibly sent all of these blessings my way.

But it’s not always that simple, because life is also filled with death and divorce, confusion, challenges, pain, loneliness, war, abuse. And for those, I don’t know the answer. For those who don’t have a warm embrace to come home to, or who long for a child to hold but struggle to conceive. For those who’ve lost a child or a spouse. For those who are alone, utterly and completely.

In my innocence, I continue to whisper my thanks, to anyone who is listening. I try to pay it forward. I dig deep for patience and remind myself constantly to Judge Not. And through this journey, through running and raising children, I too believe that as I get older, I become stronger.

Heading for the Finish Line

“To finish a work? To finish a picture? What nonsense! To finish it means to be through with it, to kill it, to rid it of its soul, to give it its final blow the coup de grace for the painter as well as for the picture.”  Pablo Picasso

GRANT: I think we all know this feeling in a race or a run when we reach the end.  We can see the end.  Maybe there is a crowd cheering, or maybe not.  Regardless we feel the pull of the finish.  It is carrying us forward even if our legs are faltering.

VICKY: You must be getting near the end of PRE.

GRANT: Yeah.  It’s horrible.

VICKY: Yes, it was quite painful for me too.  I hated it.

GRANT: For me it is the fact that I have watched 2 PRE movies.  Read Running with the Buffaloes and Bowerman and the Men of Oregon and I am now 3 quarters finished PRE.  I have been reading so many books about Prefontaine and track and field I just can’t take it anymore.

VICKY: Exactly.  Don’t you just wish you could rip the mustache right off of him.

GRANT: I don’t want to be harsh, but I can’t wait to get to the end already.

VICKY: Hurry up and finish so we can move on to the next book.

GRANT: I can see the finish.  It is not that far off.

Post-Race Musings

I’ve been in cruising mode this week. Not really energetic enough to have a decent run or bike, but not technically sore enough to have a valid reason not to. One run, one bike ride, one very short (and very cold!) swim.

Is it actually important to take the week off after a race if your not burnt out or sore? I told myself it was my reward for a job well done, although now it’s time to get back into training. You see, I’ve gone and signed up for another Sprint Tri. Eh, why not? I figured. It keeps me focused for the rest of the summer.

I find that I need races on my horizon to keep me going. They are the only thing that actually motivates me enough to consistently exercise.

Now that the high of my first triathlon is all but disappeared, I find myself thinking about a fall 2011 marathon again. I’m fairly certain that I will commit to it. There are two marathons in the Maritimes in October, Valley Harvest and PEI. I ran Valley Harvest last year, and since I think this will be my last for quite a few years, I’ll probably do PEI. My husband ran it two years ago and though it’s a beautiful route (what compares to PEI in late summer and fall? Not much.), the last 10kms are roller-coaster-like hills, apparently. Which sucks, especially since I have a rather ambitious goal time. You know, if I do it.

The rest of the summer will be spent training for another sprint, and maybe a fall 10k. After that? Who knows.

What about you? What races and/or goals do you have for the rest of the year? I’d love to hear.

My First Triathlon

I think that when you finish a race this happy:

May 2010 428

it should be considered a success.

I did my first triathlon yesterday. A Sprint (750m swim, 20k bike, 5k run). In 1:29. The whole time, even when my legs were screaming on the bike and even when it felt like my calves were going to explode on the run, all I could think was “This is so much better than a half-marathon!”

Probably because of the perfect conditions and a great route (that I was familiar with), and really sound organization, and crazy friendly participants, and doing it with my husband (his first, too), and the best cheering section I could have hoped for, and even practically falling face first in the sand when I got out of the water, and not to mention actually wearing a wet suit in public (how’s that for a run-on sentence?), it was such a great experience.

But also? It was just… fun. I mean, you long-distance runners know what I mean when I talk about the pain, right? And that mental fight you come up against? It just didn’t happen yesterday. I even scored a PB on the 5k run!

Let’s just say, this has me seriously reconsidering that 2011 marathon I was thinking about.

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(Pre-race with my husband and our two girls.)