It’s Time for Summer Camp for Grownups Again!

Fall marathon training season starts this weekend

Behold! It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

This weekend will mark the beginning of my 10th training season with the Sports Backers Marathon Training Team, and my 5th as a coach. I can’t believe it’s been that long!

Once the kid who got out of running the mile in gym class, running is now as much a part of my soul as breathing. I can’t imagine my life without it. 

It’s not just the act and routine of running that I love. It’s also the community. My team is my extended family. I’ve truly become a member of the church of the Sunday long run, which, at least for now, helps complete my life.

Not only do I love being a part of the Richmond running community, but I also enjoy being a part of the greater running world. Contributing to publications like Runner’s Life on Medium, having a presence and community of runners on social media, and ambassadorships with some of my favorite companies all add to the layers of this sport for me. I currently have relationships with Goodr, SaltStick, BOCO Gear, and SpiBelt. 

On a training run with my team in 2019. Photo courtesy of Bill Draper.

One of the head coaches of my team has asked for a tally of our race distances from half marathon and longer. I’ve run 15 half marathons, 10 full marathons, and one 50k ultramarathon. Not too shabby for the girl who avoided this sport for so long. 

As of now, there are 22 first-time marathoners signed up to run with our team. The best part about coaching a “novice” team is ushering in that new generation of marathoners. From the intimidating first day when they wonder what they are doing, to seeing them realize as the miles stretch longer that the goal may be achievable, to witnessing their joy at crossing the finish line of the Richmond Marathon, it really is a privilege to do this. 

We tell our team to focus on their “why,” especially on race day. Why do we run marathons? Everyone has their reasons. My first one was just to prove that I was capable of doing it. But the routine of fall training definitely centers my life. Running to exhaustion helps quell anxiety. And I do love the time on my feet with friends. 

As an adult, it can be really challenging to make friends. But finding running partners is like magic. What’s said on a run stays on a run. It’s like Vegas! Making connections with like-minded people who are all just as committed to wellness is amazing. 

That’s what coaching is about really. It’s helping others commit to living an active and healthy lifestyle. It’s definitely consistent with what I do for a living as a physical therapist!

If you’ve ever considered running a marathon, don’t be afraid. Especially if you have local training teams. It makes all the difference in your success and joy in pursuing this endeavor. And if your marathon happens to be Richmond, look for me on the course. I’ll be wearing a pink tutu and an orange coach’s singlet!

With my fellow Pink Nation coaches last year. Photo by author.

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Are you training for a fall marathon? If so, which one? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Do You Remember the Pace Picante Sauce Commercial?

I met the man who delivered the famous “New York City?” line!

How in the world did this happen, you ask?

My husband and I were out enjoying a beer at Origin Beer Lab, a local craft brewery in a sleepy little town called Ashland, which boasts its train town status and claims to be the Center of the Universe. 

It was a beautiful afternoon, and this place had large, garage doors that they opened in nice weather with bar-style seating on either side of the counters that also occupied this space. 

With the establishment located parallel to the train tracks and the Amtrak station just down the way, it’s a frequent phenomenon to see trains pass through, making part of the entertainment of enjoying an adult beverage here.

Enjoying a beer at Origin Beer Lab as an Amtrak train passes by. Photo by author.

The brewery wasn’t super crowded, but it was busy enough that we were making use of the more communal seating at the outdoor bar. Another couple sat down with us and struck up a conversation. And then an older gentleman joined us as well.

He held our attention with a most captivating story of how he met his lady friend, who lives in town, and frequently takes the train from up north to visit her. He was clearly enamored with her, because as he told his story, his eyes almost sparkled. 

We didn’t get into details about what he did for a living, just that he lived in New York and traveled a lot. 

After he finished his beer, he said his goodbyes and went on his merry way. 

We and the other couple seated with us commented on how nice and interesting he was.

Very soon after he left, the owner of the brewery came over to chat with us.

“Do you know who that was?” he asked.

“No. But he was really nice!” we agreed.

He continued the story. “Do you know that Pace Picante sauce commercial? The one where the old man says, ‘New York City?’” which he said with inflection just like in the televised ad. “Well, you were just talking to the guy who said that! He’s a regular here.”

We were shocked to have such an intimate conversation with someone so notorious!

His name? Raynor Scheine. A stage name, obviously. But since we met him, I’ve realized how many other things I’ve seen him in. 

He played an expert witness in the trial in “My Cousin Vinnie” and was also in several other movies. 

This is now one of those stories my husband and I tell frequently. 

Raynor Scheine may not be the most famous person I’ve ever met, but he’s certainly the most famous person I’ve interacted with for so long, and he was very gracious. 

It just goes to show that you never know whose path you may cross, even in the most unlikely places, and it may just be someone sort of famous!

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Have you ever met someone famous and had not known it? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

On Finding Joy

And it feels strange

I know. This is an unusually optimistic post for me. But, yes, lately, I have been feeling joy.

It’s not necessarily a comfortable feeling for me, but I’m trying to accept it and get used to it. 

Why the uptick in mood, you ask? 

I’ve finally taken a bit of my own advice. I tell my patients that there is no gold star for completing rehab without pain medications. If it manages their pain to allow them to participate in physical therapy with me, they should take it. Likewise, I’ve figured out that there is no prize in recovering from my past traumas without help boosting my serotonin. I started taking Prozac over a month ago. 

It was challenging at first. I felt so very tired. I was slightly nauseated. And I felt completely unmotivated to exercise. But I also knew these feelings would pass, and they finally did.

Now I feel as though the cobwebs are clearing. It’s as if my brain had been under this immense cloud of darkness with no hope of light. Now that I’m on this medicine, the clouds are dissipating, and I have felt moments of peace and immense joy.

The best feeling is being with my family, everyone happy, with their significant others, and thriving. I am at peace. Sometimes I simply have to take a moment to take it all in. These moments bring me goosebumps and warmth, and sometimes even tears. These are not feelings I’m accustomed to. 

There is so much injustice in this world, especially these days, that we can easily become overwhelmed, and I tend to soak all of it up like a sponge.

I’ve found it easier to take news breaks now. I get enough through social media to be aware of what’s going on, but I don’t indulge in NPR every single morning on my way to work. If I see or hear about something terrible that I want to explore more, I will do so. Otherwise, my driving soundtrack has been music recently. 

I was afraid that this medicine would make me feel nothing. I don’t want to be numb to the suffering in this world. But I also don’t want to be overcome by it. 

With this, I can be a bit more objective. I can make a plan to combat injustice. I can still write about my feelings. But I do find that I’m more rational. 

Initially, my writing suffered, as evidenced by my lack of proficiency and my drop in monthly earnings on Medium. But there are other reasons for this, too, like having more work hours and needing the time to make some major life choices, like adding a second job and finding a new car. (Also the reason for the second job!)

But sometimes I find myself doing a mindless task like driving, and it hits me that I’m happy. It’s simply the strangest feeling.

Is this how normal people feel? I ask myself. 

I don’t think I’ve been normal my entire life. I had a therapist tell me once that I was born with depression based on my recurring childhood night terror. It was of a thunderstorm where the thunder told me that I was a bad child. This was one of my earliest memories, this nightmare. I was around three years old when they started.

Ugh. Born with depression. What a miserable assessment of my life. 

The abuse, molestation, and attempted rape I endured when I was nine definitely didn’t help, nor did the lack of attention these atrocities received after I revealed what happened to me. There was no justice for me. I still wonder if the boy who abused me went on to hurt other girls. 

But even so, my underlying mantra is shifting. 

It used to be my life, my world don’t matter.

Now it’s life is good. 

And it’s all because I had a doctor who listened and prescribed the right medication. 

Is it really that simple?

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Do you battle with depression and anxiety? As we wrap up the month of May for Mental Health Awareness Month, I am sharing bits of my struggle on my main blog and on Medium. I realize this is deeply personal, but I hope that sharing will encourage someone else who is struggling to seek the help they need. We only get one life, and we deserve to make the most of our time living it. 

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy. 

It Was a Long 5 Miles on the Green Loop of my Ragnar Trail Race

Trail running at night may not be my thing

My one and only trail Ragnar relay race was in 2017. It’s an annual event in Richmond held in Pocahontas State Park in April. It was 36 hours of little sleep, lots of running, and time with great friends. 

That particular year, Mother Nature decided to bless us with some early summer weather. Temperatures climbed into the upper 80s during the day accompanied by Virginia’s typical humidity. And although it was cooler at night, the air was just as thick.

We each had to run one of 3 loops once, all technical, and with one loop surely to be in the middle of the night. This was the loop I was most anxious about. 

Relaxing between runs at the Ragnar trail relay event. They had lots of hammocks and coffee! Photo by author.

Fortunately, I kind of won the lottery. With a 7-mile, 6-mile, and 5-mile loop, somehow I managed to draw the right straw. My night run was the shortest loop. 

This is how I ended up setting an alarm for 1:30 AM. Not that I got any sleep waiting for my turn to run, anyway. But I did try!

My estimated start time was around 2:00 AM. I made my way to the exchange area and waited my turn. 

My person arrived, the group bib was donned, my headlamp lit, and my running flashlight engaged. It was time to begin my night run.

Starting the run didn’t feel so scary. I could light my path far ahead with my headlamp, and I could illuminate my feet with the flashlight. 

However, pretty soon, I seemed to be all alone. I think I ran about a mile and a half solo, and in that time, I began to doubt if I was even on the right trail! I did finally see a green flag, indicating that I was, gratefully, still on my intended path.

Squish.

My feet landed on something that was definitely not inorganic. 

Oh, shit! Was that a frog? Oh, no! 

I never intended to harm the wildlife. And as this race coincided with my first official weekend as a vegan, I felt extra guilty. But I kept going. 

Suddenly I became aware of shadows flying toward my headlamp. 

Moths. It’s just moths, I tell myself.

But then there was something larger coming after those moths. 

Bats. Those are definitely bats, I realize. 

Of course. I’m providing an avenue for a feast for the bats. The moths, attracted to my lights, with the bats swooping in for a tasty snack after them.

Shudder.

I try not to think about it anymore. I tell myself I will feel better once I see another human.

Finally, this happened. How am I running faster than anyone else out here? I ask myself. But I’m grateful for the interaction, as I was really wondering if I was losing my mind or lost in the woods until that point. 

Running solo on strange trails was an invitation for my mind to wander to places it shouldn’t and for the onset of doubt in my abilities to navigate. 

I was never happier to see a finish line in my life!

Thrilled to see my teammate, I happily transferred the bib to her and made my way back to our tent. It was time to try to get some sleep so I could repeat this process in the daylight in a few hours!

My night running experience was weird enough and the lack of sleep was disturbing enough that I decided Ragnar was a one and done for me.

My shirt expressed exactly how I felt about running after the event! Photo by author.

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Lead photo is with my team after we finished our runs. Photo by author.

Have you ever done a night trail run or a Ragnar relay? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

My Break from Running is Over

The roads were calling

After a disappointing Spring marathon training season that ended in a canceled marathon as we were running it, I decided to take a break from running. I found myself completely unmotivated to run or work out, so I listened to my body. 

And life, as happens sometimes, got in the way of running. 

Work became really busy as census picked up and I was needed more. Long work hours also left me too tired to run. But recent patient interactions have been highly rewarding, and for that, I’m grateful.

I’ve also spent a fair amount of time deciding on a new vehicle since my 15-year-old car has finally waived the white flag. My poor girl is tired. I keep telling her she won’t have to go much longer, and that she has served me well. I have a car on order, though, which should arrive in June. I’m definitely not looking forward to a car payment. 

After three weeks off, the roads began to call to me, so I listened again. Mother’s Day was my first run back, and I only ran 3 miles. 

It was a group run, and I surprised myself with my ability to keep up with runners who I know are faster than me! And as we returned to our cars, my brain was like, “That’s all? We normally run farther than that on Sunday!” But I didn’t want to overdo things after taking so much time off.

Did I lose my aerobic base? Probably not. I do believe that I helped spare my body a greater risk of injury by giving it a break. And I certainly needed it, because I was feeling a bit burnt out. 

Running should be fun, not tedious. I don’t have to do this. I get to do this. I have to remind myself of that every now and then. 

The next couple of months will be weird fitness-wise. June begins marathon training season again for fall races. And I will return as a coach for my team. But I will also be traveling to London. I’m not sure if I will run on vacation or not. It’s a school trip, and I have no control over the itinerary. They have also encouraged us to only take a carry-on bag for this 10-day adventure, so that limits what I can bring. All problems for another day. But I’m certain we will be walking a ton!

I will focus on finding a workout routine again, with no pressure to adhere to a set schedule. I just need to return to the simple joy of movement, the meditative time on my feet during solo runs, and the therapy of conversation during group runs. 

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The lead photo is on my last run, where I was greeted by the neighborhood horses. They even came over to say hello after snapping this photo! They seemed disappointed that I didn’t have treats for them.

Have you ever battled exercise burnout? How did you cope? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

My Hot Flashes are a Danger to Backyard Wildlife

The tale of an unexpected house guest

Dear lovely wild birds in my backyard: just because there is an open door, it does not mean you need to fly in and explore my home. I definitely won’t hurt you, as you simply found yourself in the wrong place, and the open door was completely my fault. But you really must leave!

This was my experience the other morning. 

As I am in my late 40s and dealing with the onset of menopause, I have been getting terrible hot flashes in the morning. I’ve grown accustomed to opening the door to the back porch while I eat my breakfast, getting a bit of relief from the inferno that is my hormonal body while the air is still cool in the dawn hours.

An example of the beauty that let himself into our house! Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

I certainly didn’t expect company to invite themselves in, especially in the form of a bird. Not just any bird, but a tufted titmouse. 

What’s a tufted titmouse, you ask? It’s about the size of a cardinal, but two shades of grey, and with a crest similar to the red bird. 

My dog and cat were delighted with the entertainment from our unintended guest. My cat especially was like, “I got this, Mom! I will get him for you!” chasing that poor bird to exhaustion. And my dog insisted on helping the cat, who has on occasion lived up to the promise of catching said bird. 

This guy thought he could solve the problem of our uninvited guest. Photo by author.

In the few minutes that this scenario played out, I was sure I would have to call work to let them know I’d be late. What a most unusual excuse for tardiness! I don’t think there’s a checkmark for “flying bird stuck in employee’s house.”

The only thing I could think to do initially was to open all of the doors on the first floor and hope the poor bird would find his way out. I kept following him around the house until eventually, he made his great escape through the front door. 

I suppose I could have gotten a net out of the garage to try to catch him as my plan B, but fortunately, plan A worked! Plus, the net may have harmed him. 

The best part of the story is that the bird escaped to live another day. But the second best part was having a great tale to tell my patients at work, and this was a particularly entertaining one!

But I will absolutely have to reassess my strategy for managing hot flashes.

I think I will simply eat my breakfast on the back porch from now on!

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I’m completely overwhelmed with how hot I get during these episodes! I don’t know what I’m going to do once it’s hot in the summer, too! Does anyone have any tips for managing these? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Days that Physical Therapists Live For

Yesterday was a good day

Sometimes in the world of a healthcare provider, it’s easy to become discouraged. Too much hurt and injustice can become overwhelming. It’s no wonder that nurses are leaving their profession in droves post-pandemic.

But rehab professionals are a bit different. Not that we don’t have our struggles, too, because we absolutely do. But some days are simply magical and restore your faith in the life path you have chosen.

Yesterday was one of those days. 

There are two things I always tell my patients. I tell them that it’s my job to help them get their lives back. The next thing I tell them is that it’s their job to show up and do the work.

All of my patients showed up yesterday. Two in particular had me almost in tears, I was so proud of them.

My first was the grumpiest McGrumperson I’ve had in a while. When your injury robs you of mobility and speech at a young age, you deserve to grieve. You even deserve to get a little pissed off. But I still want you to try. 

This poor guy was starting to give up. I could see it. All he wanted to do was stay in bed and feel sorry for himself. I get it. But, oh, how I wanted him to try. 

Today, I had a breakthrough with him. I convinced him to sit on the edge of the bed and eat. And then somehow managed to convince him to get in the wheelchair and go to the gym with me. 

Walking is so much of a spiritual part of being human, and when you can’t, it’s really humbling. So my primary focus, especially in patients post-stroke, is to work on this. Studies show that intensive gait training is crucial to recovery.

Today I used an old-school trick with an ace wrap to help my patient move his affected leg more effectively. And he could walk in the parallel bars with very little help from me. So we took the show to the rolling walker. 

He walked 75 feet on that first try! He was grinning ear to ear. I had goosebumps! And so we tried twice more. 

When I got him back to his room, he simply couldn’t stop smiling. He even reached out to shake my hand and thank me in his own way. I made sure his nurse knew of his success so she could be excited with him. She said he was still very happy when she checked on him. 

I’m hoping this is his turning point.

My second success story is another patient post-stroke. 

Knee pain in his affected leg was limiting his progress. Pain along the joint line as he described is usually arthritis. My guess is that since he has lost some motor control, his joint has to pick up the slack. But it was getting so bad that his knee would begin to buckle when he was fatigued. 

I tried kinesiotape to provide more support and proprioceptive feedback to his knee. I dropped his pain level from a 7 to a 3 out of 10. Not only did I reduce his pain, but he was also able to climb the stairs for the first time! And, again, I had a patient grinning ear to ear. And again, I had goosebumps. All wins in my book.

If every day could be this amazing, where your patients showed up to fully participate, and all of the interventions you chose actually worked, I would never feel like work was actually work. I’m very grateful for a good day!

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Are you a healthcare provider or have been a patient in rehab? I’d love to hear about your experiences.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Stop Telling People with Anxiety to Calm Down

Here are some things to say and do instead

Keep calm and carry on. Should this be our mantra in this world full of danger, strife, and stress? Tell that to our overly anxious, overthinking brains. 

As I lay in my bed, tossing and turning in that witching hour between 3:30 and 4:30 AM this morning, I contemplated my own anxieties. Trying to solve all of the world’s problems during this time of night is never successful, but I can’t seem to turn off the intrusive thoughts. 

By experience, I know that upon wakening, the catastrophes my brain was creating during my restless attempt at slumber will never seem as insurmountable in the daylight hours. 

I hate that I have anxiety, but I do believe that we all have it to some degree. If you don’t, you’re lying. At least, I tell my patients and family this. 

See, sometimes I look at my own trials with anxiety as a gift. Even though at times I struggle to manage my own thoughts, I have a gift for talking others out of theirs. Overwhelming anxiety, panic attacks, and fear of falling all come down to the feeling that you are not in control of your life, and initiating a fight or flight response. 

With my family members who suffer, I try to get them to break down their anxieties into manageable tasks. We look at all of the problems, list them out, and tackle them one by one, starting with the easiest or most pertinent problems to solve. 

With the recent death of my father, in those moments after his heart stopped, my mom was understandably overwhelmed. But she had some decisions to make and needed to decide pretty quickly. My dad had never discussed his wishes upon his death, and he left the choices to her. So I was able to get her to talk to me about her own wishes. And then she could reach a comfort level about making choices for him. 

My daughter has a predictable response to end-of-semester deadlines every fall, without fail. She’s a perfectionist and has maintained a 4.0 throughout her college career. I’ve been able to help her figure out how to manage every time. Sometimes it’s asking a professor for an extension. Sometimes it’s being her editor for papers. Sometimes it’s simply reminding her that she is loved and safe. 

And I’ve encountered friends during panic attacks as well. The best phrase to hear when you are in fight or flight mode is you are safe. That’s it. That’s the primary message. If they will let you, hold their hand. This grounds them. Give them something to focus on besides their sense of panic. Tell me five things you can see, four things you can hear, and three things you can smell. 

I needed to do this as a coach on one of my group runs. I talked one of my team members through a panic episode when she was harassed by someone on our route. These tactics really helped. 

With my patients, my approach is a bit different. I try to address the emotional response to healing with all of the people in my care. As a physical therapist in inpatient rehabilitation, I often spend over an hour at a time with my patients, providing lots of opportunities to address their fears and concerns. 

I try to anticipate anxieties. I imagine how I would feel in their situation. It’s especially challenging for those who are experiencing a major medical event for the first time. Feeling vulnerable on that level is supremely humbling. 

The witching hour is definitely something we address. I kind of joke about it, talking about the things that race through their mind at 4:00 AM. It’s surprising how many of my patients give me this shocked look when I do, as if I exposed their little secret. I educate them about discharge planning, stages of healing, fears of loss of independence, and typical patterns in recovery from their illness or injuries. These are the thoughts that often run through your brain in rehab. 

Granting as many ways to control their situations is one element of care that can make a big difference in the anxiety level of my patients. It can be as simple as asking them which side of the bed they would like to get out of, showing them how they can adjust their hospital bed themselves, or choosing what part of their therapy they would like to tackle first. 

Sometimes my patients are so overwhelmed by a fear of falling that it makes participating in therapy difficult. I rely on a mantra my favorite running coach told my team: Breathe, relax, believe. First, I get my patient to look me in the eyes, as often they need something to focus on. Hi there! Good. Next, I ask them to breathe. We take a deep breath together. Exhale. And then I ask them to relax. We are going to get through this together. I promise I won’t let you fall. I know it’s hard for you to trust someone you just met. But I’m here to help you get your life back, and this is how we start. Your job is simply to show up and do the work. My goal is not to make you miserable in the process, so if we start getting out of bed, and it’s terrible for you, we’ll stop. And I keep my promises.

Breaking down big tasks into parts, once again, is another element of managing anxiety in mobility training. Getting out of bed, for example, becomes a more complicated endeavor when you’ve taken inventory of your body, and nothing seems to work like it used to. I help my patients problem-solve based on their new to them bodies. And as we work on the skills, they begin to restore what was once lost. 

Sometimes my patients are dealing with side effects of medications that they don’t understand. For example, pain medications can alter thought processes, and other drugs like albuterol used in breathing treatments can increase your heart rate and make you feel anxious. Explaining these effects to my patients, letting them know that I understand and that they are not crazy, goes a long way in earning their trust so that we can get on with the therapy for the day. 

The one thing I’ve learned that doesn’t help my family, friends, or patients when they are burdened with anxiety is telling them to calm down. A brain in fight or flight does not respond well to this. People simply need to know that they are safe, that someone cares, and to be given things they can control. An anxious brain often can’t do this. This is when an objective person can help. 

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Do you deal with anxiety? Do you have people in your life that do? I’d love to hear about your experiences.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

I Promised Myself I’d Take Time Off from Running

But this feels weird

Here’s the deal. I was supposed to run America’s Toughest Road Race, the Blue Ridge Marathon, the other weekend. And I did. Well, sort of. 

Before the race I didn’t finish due to weather and course closure.

The race was canceled due to severe thunderstorms about 6 miles into my race. We made it 9 miles to the stop where buses would pick us up and return us to the start. And then my race was over.

I fully expected to still be recovering this weekend, just over a week past my race. But I didn’t need to. 

I expected to take the month of May off from running, devoting more time to essential strength training and cross training, giving my body a break from the relentless miles from my spring marathon season, as we begin the fall training season in June. 

As expected, then, I’ve done absolutely nothing for two weeks! It was really weird to sleep in on my long run day. 

I’ve worked. A lot. Census is up at the hospital with multiple admissions nearly every day, making me in high demand. 

I took a day to go visit my older daughter who won an award at school. A nice ceremony followed by dinner out. A whirlwind tour of central Virginia. 

My younger daughter needed a prom dress. We got lucky and scored a bargain at Ross. A beautiful dress in a size smaller than she has been wearing. She’s losing weight like crazy. 

I’ve been cuddling with my fur babies in the morning with no need to get up early to run. I think they love it. 

Letting myself heal, both physically and emotionally, is important. I know this. But I also need to find the motivation to get into my garage gym and do some work. 

I’m also struggling to find the motivation to write right now. There was a time that my mind spun with all kinds of ideas. I don’t know where that part of my brain has gone. 

The Richmond Road Runners Club held their annual banquet. It was so much fun watching my friends win awards, especially those we recognized in our community for their important contributions to the Richmond running community. It felt like giving perfect gifts at Christmas! And the speaker was phenomenal.

With Martinus Evans, AKA 300poundsandrunning on Instagram. He spoke about the importance of making the sport of running accessible to everyone.

Part of me feels guilty for not running. And I feel really guilty for not running a marathon or finding the motivation to finish the one I started. I need to get over that. But I’m also feeling a bit burned out from an exhausting training season that led to nowhere. 

Coaching for the fall marathon training season begins next month. It’s the most wonderful time of the year! And I can’t wait to usher in a new group of first-time marathoners. Surely running with my team will inspire me to fall in love with running again.

It will be nice to begin coaching again! With my fellow Pink Nation crew.

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I’ve dealt with post-marathon blues before. Maybe this isn’t much different. Post-almost-marathon-melancholy? Maybe that’s more accurate. I did all of the work without the big, triumphant finish. Has this ever happened to you? 

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy. 

Why Buying a Car Sucks

I’ve only ever purchased one car that I actually went shopping for. I was still in college, likely going to graduate school the next year, and needed to have a way to get there!

No longer tucked safely into a pedestrian-friendly, small college campus, I’d have no choice but to obtain transportation to travel from a suburban apartment to the urban campus of my graduate school. 

I went shopping with my dad. Under the guise that my earned scholarship money would be utilized to purchase said car, we scoured dealerships for a sound, reliable, used car whose price wouldn’t break the bank.

I ended up with an early 90s Toyota Corolla, and I kept it until 2005. My poor husband ended up driving this later because I usually had the responsibility of taking the kids to caregivers and preschool. 

My current vehicle was a bargain from a friend who maintained a fleet of cars for his business. He kept them until they were out of their bumper-to-bumper warranty, and found a worthy recipient at an amazing price. I thought I’d won the lottery. 

Alas, I’ve driven this car for 12 years, and in its advanced age, I’ve poured about $1,000 into it about every 6 months. Tires, brakes, fixing the air conditioning, a new starter. And the key fob no longer works. It’s at almost 300,000 miles. Lovely. But we’ve reached the “add oil every week and pray” stage of its life. I’m not happy about it.

The thing is, I love my car. It’s a Honda. Sure, it’s got some problems. There’s definitely something going on with the power steering, as the steering wheel no longer sits level. It vibrates violently when accelerating between 50 and 60 mph. (My daughter went so far as to give it the nickname “Parkinson’s Car.”) And it also complains with extreme turns. And apparently, I will receive a recall notice soon, something about the potential for the rear axle to spontaneously combust. Sigh.

But, oh, the agony of acquiring a car payment. Who can actually afford a car right now? 

I almost bought a used Toyota Rav 4. I’m lucky that I have a friend in the car business. It seemed like a good deal. 

I only had 4 requests: a functional key fob, cloth seats (because Anne the Vegan cannot drive a car with leather seats!), Bluetooth, and a rear camera. You know, most of the features of every modern-day car.

I pulled out of the dealer lot in my potential new car, drove to a restaurant to meet my family, got out of the car, hit that key fob button, and NOTHING. 

Shit. The key fob doesn’t work! And as OCD as I am about locking my vehicle, I love that satisfying sound of the beep indicating my car is safely locked. 

Plus, sitting in that Toyota was like visiting a foreign country. Nothing felt like my Honda. 

And on the way home with it, all of the safety features popped up on the dash with errors. Nice. I called my friend. She was speechless. She sent a tow truck for it, and we are starting over. 

So, here’s the dilemma in the current car market. We typically buy used ones, however, they are so expensive still! So do I go with something smaller and new? This is where I’m leaning. 

But I will miss my old car. I love her so much. She’s been reliable until recently. She has a 6-disc CD changer, which makes the music lover in me very happy! We became inseparable for the year I did home health. And she has taken me on numerous adventures. 

Is it weird to grieve the loss of a car? 

Well, I don’t know what I will end up buying, but I will have to make a decision soon. And I will have to say goodbye to my beloved car.

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I hate that I will have to work more just to have a car to drive to work. And I am the absolute worst at making decisions about big purchases. The whole situation makes me a giant ball of anxiety. Wish me luck.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.