The Good, The Bad & The Fatty

Well, it has been 4 months exactly since we got back from Colombia. The 2 months there seemed to ooze in a sweet slow way. Life in Colombia was like submerging yourself under water in a pool; everything goes quiet and you become weightless. By the same right, being back home is like that inevitable moment when you finally have to come back up for air and the noise of the poolside chaos jarringly hits you as you break the surface. Since being back, everything seems to be on fast forward, I'm unable to keep up and I long for that cool, calm of deep water. I even dream about it each night.

But reality is, we gotta work! And, my waistline seriously can't be on vacation permanently. As all of you that follow this blog know, I had some "health issues" (to put it mildly) over the last few years and had uncontrollable weight gain. As I got healthier, weight fell off, then stopped. In an attempt to 'love myself the way I am' and be grateful for my improving health, regardless of the train-wreck that was left in its wake, I turned the other cheek to that mean voice in my head. And by "turn the other cheek", evidently I mean go ahead and let my big ass just stay big. Finally I had had it and decided to stop being 'cheeky' and do something about it.

Now if you recall, another fun thing I got from the 'health issue' was compromised ligaments and tendons. So when I jumped off a sailboat and landed on a docking cleat (1 year ago), I literally blew out my ankle (full rupture of 2 ligaments and badly tearing 2 tendons with a high ankle sprain), ya, no bueno. Then, in a series of unfortunate events, kinda like the popular show/ movie/ books by that name, tragic yet funny, I dislocated my shoulder...2 days later. I told you my sh*t was compromised! Anyway, it has taken a year to get my ankle to the point where I can now do some low impact exercise. Being that I had turned into a delicate marionette with my fragile ligaments and tendons, I actually listened to the doctors and have been very very careful. Now, full of fear, it is time to start to test my body. Ahhhh...my "Fueled by Vivac" fans, you are starting to see where this is going aren't you? Yes my dears, I am going to start complaining about running again! Woohoo!

My adventures in Colombia may have been full of thrills, but nothing will be as momentous as hauling my giant ass down the road on a wobbly ankle. And with hardly any physical activity over the last year combined with drinking beer and eating wheat while I was traveling, I now have to try to get back in shape while going through wheat withdrawals. Oh, didn't you know? Yep, I am also one of those annoying people that don't eat wheat. To add insult to injury (no pun intended...ok, maybe it was intended) I'm going to attempt a diet plan that requires me to give up my one true passion in life, wine (GASP!). Nothing should set up complaining like the lack of wine and wheat mixed with making me run. God save my husband and child, this could be scary.

So sit back, relax, open a bottle of wine for me and enjoy the impending doom.

* This blog is sponsored by 'the wines I want to be drinking so freaking bad!': Vivac Abbott Estate Merlot & Vivac Abbott Cab Franc. Oh and Vivac Rose of Sangiovese & Vivac Chardonnay. Oh and also Vivac Tempranillo and Vivac Club Select.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

10 Ways Running is Like Having a Brain Tumor

In an unfortunate turn of events, I have the unique ability to make this list. As a once-upon-a-time runner and a current brain-tumor-train-wreck I am finding there are many similarities between my experiences training for races and the issues that come from navigating life with the strange challenges of having a brain tumor. I also believe it's important to laugh when things are miserable...and this blog has always been about laughing at my misery so here goes...

1) Nausea: 
          Brain Version: In my particular case, I am constantly nauseous. It is so bad that should I forego my meds, I literally shake and vomit from the extraordinary nausea.

          Running Version: I don't know how you run, but I am always about to vomit when I run. Training runs that work on speed...vomit. Training runs that work on strength...vomit. Training runs that extend the distance...vomit.

2) Conflicting Advice:
          Brain Version: People really want to help. And from their excitement to "heal" me, come many interpretations of how to handle a brain tumor. Some say do the surgery, others say meditate, while others still believe diet will be the trick. Any option I go with will always be met with "you should get another opinion". It's actually pretty entertaining to see your community of friends, family and work colleagues cris-cross with varying ideas that so completely contradict each other. It's like my own private soap opera! To be perfectly honest, prior to all this, I had zero idea where the pituitary was located, I had no idea what a tumor on the pituitary would make my body feel and I sure as hell didn't know how a tumor located on the pituitary would be removed so I am never mad at people for not understanding. That said, I hate kale, please stop telling me to eat kale. I hate kale so much that eating it could possibly make my tumor grow bigger.

          Running Version: Again, people really want to help! And with running, everyone is an expert. I bought my 1st pair of running shoes after being professionally fitted and BOOM, I was telling everyone how their running shoes should fit. People tell you your stride is too long just as others are telling you it is too short. There are opinions on what to eat before, during and after and then there is the opposite idea of not eating at all (well not EVER, just not before, during or right after a run). It's impossible to decide the path to take, but you have to make your own decisions that feel right for your body. That goes for running or brain tumors.

3) Contemplating Death:
         Brain Version: This one is obvious, you could actually die. I have contemplated my own mortality in the way we all do, 'if I only had a few months left to live, what would I spend that time doing?'. I think we all quit our jobs and escaped to a beach in that fantasy. But when the reality of creating a will and writing goodbye letters to your young son slaps you in the face, it takes on a gravity of its own. I have to work to pay doctor bills, I have to try to keep some amount of normalcy in my son's life because we plan that I will NOT die, in which case it would be bizarre if I pulled my son from school and we spent months watching movies and eating only chocolate. I do take every single second to hug my son and tell him how much I love him.

          Running Version: You feel like you could actually die. Long runs test the limits and after every single one, I have laid on my living room floor, sipping wine through a straw and contemplate my impending death. Short runs I have always push too hard and that's when my body fights back with the threat of a heart attack. The risk is real people.

4) Lots of Crying:
          Brain Version: After #3 you may be crying with me. I cry A LOT. I cry out of pain (I feel like a character in a Stephan King book that has been crumpled into a distorted figure, like a piece of paper wadded up to be thrown away), my body hurts. I cry out of frustration. I cry out of fear. I cry out of desperation because I love my family so much and I never want to say goodbye. I cry because my body has been hijacked. I cry because this is beyond hard.

          Running Version: Anyone that has read this blog over the years, knows I'm all about the crying...before, during and after I run. I cry from pain, from frustration, from fear and because it is too damn hard to handle sometimes. You see? Same, same.

5) Pain:
          Brain Version: #4 kinda nailed it on this topic already, so let's leave it at "pain, a brain tumor's best friend"

         Running Version: Shin splints, heel spurs, pulled tendons, knee screaming (yes that is a thing...my knees scream), headaches, tummy cramps, back spasms...running is all about pain! Wake up early to run, PAINFUL! Wait till after work to run, PAINFUL! Skip a run, then feel bad about yourself so you eat foods you shouldn't to numb the bad self talk and wash it down with a couple too many glasses of wine so now you have to run the next day fat and hungover, PAINFUL!

6) Denial:
         Brain Version: The 'maybe this is all in my head' is so much more than a funny pun. My symptoms started slow and then sped up...like they saw the finish line and decided to make a good PR (Personal Record, runners speak for 'prove your worth in minutes'). The bummer was none of the symptoms seemed all that important and tests aren't clear cut so over and over again I was faced with the questions "Am I crazy? Am I imagining these things? Can I will it away?". Let's face it, just saying 'I have a brain tumor' is so odd that it sounds like the build up to a joke, it begs you to lay in a big comfy bed of denial. And when the doctors talk about the risks, it is hard not to stick my fingers in my ears and shake my head no...denial makes it possible to handle this bit by bit, without it I would be frozen in fear.

         Running Version: Everyone has their own level of denial with running. Mine is that some day I will enjoy running...wait, no, mine is that I will one day be a fast runner...wait, no, it's that running...sucks and I keep sugar coating it in denial so I can force myself to experience hell over and over again. But that's just me. Other people are on the other side of the spectrum, running all the time, always faster, always longer distances, always with a smile on their face...these people are sick and are in denial of their sickness.

7) Depression:
          Brain Version: uhhhhh der, do I really need to explain this one?

          Running Version: You can be depressed because you had a hard run when you didn't expect it. You can be depressed when you don't PR a race. You can be depressed if you get injured. I get depressed knowing I have to hit a big run, or a speed day and I can get really depressed if a cold takes me out and I can't run at all. That's how we should have known I had a brain tumor, I hate not running as much as I hate running.

8) Need for Wine:
         Brain Version: I am still allowed to have my wine, my beautiful liquid gold (errr...that comes in red, yellow or pink). Wine is supportive, always understanding, always available at a moments notice. Wine soothes your worries and makes the world a happy place. What? We own a winery, you think I'd say anything other than the fact that wine is magic?

         Running Version:Why would anyone attempt running without knowing a glass of wine was waiting for them at the end? I chose to run Napa Valley Marathon as my 1st full Marathon because it is in wine country. They have wine at check in for the race, need I say more? The allure of 'which wine will I have at the end of soul jolting experience' has always been a rewarding game during my runs. And it is proven that wine heals the muscles after the tear down of a training run as well as settling the tummy after long distances. It's proven by me, but I'm a wine professional so you can trust it as fact.

9) Headaches:
          Brain Version: Supposedly it is NOT the tumor in my head that is causing the headaches, but rather what it is telling the pituitary to do which is telling my body to keep making crazy amounts of cortisol which in turn gives me headaches...so it could be argued that it IS the tumor making my head hurt, just not the way you imagined it.

          Running Version: You know that thumping at your temples, the grip over your skull that won't release? Maybe you had it as a child when you would run your very hardest while playing soccer or tag? Or if you are a runner, during speed work? Or if you are me, the feeling after I've run to the point of throwing up and I've been dry heaving on the side of the highway while trucks blow exhaust in my face.

10) Lack of Memory:
           Brain Version: This is the ridiculous part. As my body tries to cope with a crazy amount of cortisol, it affects my memory. While I used to be a type A person who enjoyed keeping many balls in the air, I have been reduced to a total dumbass. I say the wrong word, I make mistakes at work, I say the completely wrong thing yet am sure I said what I meant and I can't remember the names of people, places or things. Good times! I now have more compassion for elderly people. I'm still that type A person inside, peering out at the mess I'm creating and rolling my eyes.

          Running Version: Like childbirth, after the horror of the event itself is over, the celebration has washed you in a glow and the pain fades into a memory...you forget how hard the training was. You decide to look into other races. Blissfully you sign up for a new torture session of training and it all starts over. Kinda like each new day with a brain tumor.

Not everyone can have a brain tumor, I know you are all jealous, so you will have to take my word for it...Running is just like having a Brain Tumor. Only running might be worse.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

A Whole New Marathon

There are lots of Marathons we run during our lives. There is the Marathon of getting through school, there is the Marathon of making a relationship last or the Marathon of raising children. Some know the Marathon of sticking out a job you hate or the Marathon of surviving loss. You don't have to be literally running in order to "run" a Marathon.

Over the last couple of years, all of you have read as I attempted to train for an actual Marathon...and failed. Over and over again I failed. Each time seemed harder than the last, more of a hit to my endurance to stop and then start over. This past year, it got much much worse and the ability to even try to train became ridiculous. The only time I could post was to tell you of how ashamed I was that I wasn't 'doing my job'. My body simply would not cooperate.

As I attempted to medicate all the insane symptoms that plagued me, I lost my ability to think positive. I lost a great number of things over this time and running was one of the 1st to go. As the months ticked away, what started as annoying became worrisome, I started spending more time at the Doctor's and the hospital than at home (OK maybe that is a slight exaggeration, I never did loose my ability to be dramatic, but it really felt that way). Then severe symptoms gave way to specialists, blinding headaches, crushing bone pain, constant and horrible nausea and blurring in my peripheral vision...on top of a long long list of other things that made life unbearable.

I started to feel like a crazy person as test after test came back to say YES there is a problem (hypercortisolism) but we can't find where it is coming from. Evidently, other than my 2 page list of ailments and a unrelenting cortisol issue, I was healthy as a freakin horse!

Finally, the tests of all mega tests, the MRI. The MRI is scary for lots of reasons, 1) Doctor's don't really seem to want to go there unless there seems a good cause (I'd LOVE to see what I've racked up in cost for my insurance company), 2) They shoot you up with a contrast liquid that is decidedly NOT good for your body, 3) the machine is so damn loud that you could actually go deaf, 4) they put a cage like thing over your head, shove you in a claustrophobic tiny tunnel and tell you not to move. I got to do this for a full hour, lucky girl. OH and the mother of all reasons this test sucks...the big #5...something could be wrong with your brain.

Over the years of my life, I have been prone to strange occurrences and happenings, perhaps I will share these in a blog some other time, but when they say "rare" I prepare myself for "you've got it". So, as they did all these tests, in the back of my head (ha! have to stop to give respect to this pun) I wondered if they would find it in my head. My husband the entire time was thinking the whole thing was in my head so...there is that.

You know what sucks about always being right? When you wish you weren't. The results of my MRI show a tumor on my pituitary. The pituitary is located at the front of the skull, essentially behind the nose (not at the back of the head, but that pun was still hilarious). Many tumors on the pituitary are "non-functioning", but guess what kind I got? With all the other tests, symptoms and Doctor visits, it seems brain surgery is the best plan of action. If I wasn't so damn miserable ALL THE TIME, perhaps I would have pooped my pants at this news, as things are, I simply breathed a sign of relief.

I'm excited to have a solution. Am I terrified of the risks? Uhhhhh YES! Have I tried to push the nagging questions of what will happen if I leave my young son in this world without me, my sweet boy that I have advocated for, protected and nurtured, what will happen to him if I am not here...have I tried to not think that thought? Ya, every moment of every day and most hours of every night. He is my heart and soul and there is no way I have had enough time with this incredible little person. And then I think of my husband, the man that even now tries to be my rock, always protecting me, always there to buoy me, be it an incredibly difficult run...or this. He is truly the love of my life and I'm so lucky to have had him holding my hand all this time. Even the thought of saying goodbye to him makes my heart sear with white hot pain.

Amazingly I don't have any regrets, should I go now. I feel I have lived a wonderful full life. Except I probably should have had MORE wine, why was I saving that "special" bottle? And clearly I could have nagged my husband more, he'd love that.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

Stop! Ahead...it's a Bear/ Dog!

I have always been afraid of being attacked by a bear while out running. Some people are more worry-warts than others. I am freaked out about my child being abducted or abused, I am panicked by unseen health issues and I am sure that my loathing for snakes means I will absolutely be bit by a rattlesnake at some point. But I digress, back to the bear... I have pictured my mauling in many different scenarios ranging from surprise attack, to the confrontation where I try to fight the bear head on, to the almost-got-away-oops-no-I-didn't death. I have a vivid imagination and clearly I have used most of my talent for planning how to handle the vast array of bear attacks (along with all the horrific things I mentioned above) I would face in my life as a runner. My husband has always responded with a roll of his eyes. It isn't that he doesn't believe that a bear attack could happen, it's that he thinks tweaking about the very rare occurrence of one maybe possibly happening as a waste of time. Well one of us will be prepared and the other...well, the other will be saying his wife was right as he inhales the putrid smell of a bear's breath and bleeds to death on a trail.

After all these years of running, I have never seen a bear. I hear stories of them coming down into our sleepy little mountain town, others have had actual encounters, but me? No, my defense skills continue to go untested. I started to think my husband might be right and I could stop clenching the bear spray in my fist as I jogged, I could relax a bit and simply enjoy my surroundings, but then last fall a friend was walking near her house and was charged by a bear! She was left shaken and deeply grateful to her dogs who jumped between her and the ragging bear. She now has PTSD from this experience. Then a few weeks ago as my parents were hiking in the woods, my mom saw a bear cut across the path. My mom's sighting sent her sprinting to the car. My dad on the other hand curiously looked for the bear and then determined that it must have been a dog...as if my mom was daft enough not to be able to tell the difference between a bear and a dog. Clearly that saying "a daughter will grow up to marry a man like her father" is true, these two men obviously don't take bear attacks seriously enough.

Then it happened. A runner running a Marathon in an area we know well, where my husband and his brother ran their 1st Marathon, was attacked by a bear. Luckily she is OK. The runner is OK, the mother bear who was protecting her cubs is decidedly NOT OK.

Life is no joke. We run through it blissfully unaware until we are attacked by the unimaginable. Maybe it's better that way, maybe it's better to have a plan of defense, both could be argued. But I feel validated for having been freaked out over bear attacks because they do happen! So you can roll your eyes along with my husband or act like the fears are as benign as someone's pet dog like my dad, but I am going to go buy more bear spray, encourage my friend with PTSD to venture out again, applaud my mom for her sprinting skills and raise a glass in cheers to the runner that survived a bear attack.

I wonder if this runner who was attacked had a defense plan. Is this why she survived? I think I may need to call her and ask for advice.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

Green With Envy

You know what is interesting? The feeling of jealousy that comes with NOT working out.  Watching/ hearing about other people working out makes me sick. It doesn't help that Facebook has memory notifications that alert me to the fact that I haven't always been a lazy ass, it highlights the deliciously cruel workouts that pushed me to be in better shape, get the PR at the next race, be in a good mood...only now it all makes me mad.

I haven't been able to run or workout due to some health issues (that is a whole different story) and now I feel trapped in the inability to do so. Trapped in a body that refuses to do what I want. And then, adding insult to injury, we sponsored the Taos Marathon and watched toned, athletic forms strut into the Tasting Room and trade in the prizes we'd showered on winners with obnoxious glee. A jealous twitch took over my right eyelid and seems to be permanent. The usual enthusiasm for fellow runners was traded for a sour sarcastic statement of how I'd be getting back at it soon. But the truth is that I don't know when that is going to be.

We take simple things for granted, the ability to get up and go to our jobs, our ability to go workout or for a run, the ability just to feel good. The deep irritation at the realization of how much I have taken for granted feels as if it is tinting my skin green.

Clearly all I can do is to pour a glass of wine and ponder how I will be different when I am feeling better.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

Unmanageable

Fueled by Vivác use to mean something much different. Four years ago I ran my first full Marathon in Napa, it was Fueled by so much more than just Vivác... it was Fueled by the whole Napa Valley; I love me some Napa wines! But now my Fueling looks so different. 

Getting up in the morning chasing after the kiddo, work work work and more work only to finish, come home and have to clean, do laundry and cook dinner oh yes and be a wife and mom! That's when I really need to start Fueling. There's no way to possibly Fuel enough at the end of a day. I realized that I'm running on fumes. But now I'm too tired and I need to just go to bed. The next day it starts all over again. I am being Fueled by irritability and coffee and my precious wine has (gasp) become a once in a while treat. Clearly I will be going to Hell for this. 

That's when I hit bottom. I realized my life was unmanageable without proper Fueling. Why are we living lives that are so out of balance? Where is the time to stop and smell the Rosé (FYI Rosé is different than blush, it is a pink wine that gets its color from the grape skins, maintains great acidity with fuller fruit notes than many white wines)? How is it that when we were on food stamps and starting our winery, starting our family, we were LESS stressed? Was it that we made sure to Fuel more? Those late nights spent at the kitchen table, talking for hours with my husband have been swapped for lists of errands the other can do the next day. Somehow the shift happened and left us in the dust... parched. 

But life is not over...despite the fact that we have been shoved into our 40's (ok actually only my husband is 40, but I'm close), we don't have to let the world of "To Do's" knock us off course. We can regain our will to properly Fuel once again and save our souls from the depths of a wineless world. 

I'll just need a gallon of water, 6 Ibuprofen and 3 days to recover.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.vivacwinery.com

Top 10...For The Lazy

TOP 10 SPRING TIME EXCUSES FOR RUNNING

allergies are horrible

it is deceptively cold out

the wind is horrible

the mud has made all trails a disaster

I might be catching a cold

I just got over a cold

my warm running clothes don't fit

oops I planned another meeting during running time

I think I hear my phone ringing

there is wine I need to be drinking


I'm pretty sure I used all of these this past week...but the last one is my fave.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

The Dark Side

It has been an intense month or so since I last blogged...and published it. I lost someone who I loved and admired. I had, since I was a child, felt a part of his family as I grew up with his kids. I'd spent holidays laughing with him and his family, weddings, babies and everyday happenings filled the years...and then suddenly he was gone. It was crushing for me, but down right demolishing for my pseudo siblings. The experience was very difficult to say the least. I will spare you a long drawn out explanation of the weeks that have passed and get into the present and the reason you actually read this thing (thank you so much for doing so)...FUELING!

During hard times, working out seems like a complete joke. Yet, with time and distance, the distraction and exertion becomes welcome. Even for a self proclaimed lazy person such as myself, a workout of some sort needed to happen.

OK, let's clarify, obviously I never stopped "Fueling" because...we own a winery for one, wine is mourning's best friend, and lastly...my body might shut down if I did something so rash as to stop drinking.

Now back to my story. A few short runs in, I decided I might be part sloth. My running just gets slower each time I return to it! Since I am easily discouraged, and with my hormones raging (because it seems I am also going through very early menopause...or hell, I can't tell which) I decided a softer approach was needed. Yoga, yes yoga is going to be better.

Some of you may remember a somewhat recent blog about my experience with stinky yoga, so let me explain to you guys...I am SO lazy that returning to the packed room full of smelly people seemed like more of a possibility than running. See? Part sloth.

When you are unmotivated, depressed and have hormones raging, it is no surprise that your clothes may start shrinking on you. My workout clothes seem to have decided that they belong to my child because they gripped my fat in ways most unpleasant. As I wiggled into various yoga contortions, the said clothing rolled into rubber bands of pain. Various parts of my body became sausaged into bulging sections with each new position. I tried to quietly tug at the various scraps of cloth, hoping they would stretch to encompass the embarrassing naked skin now revealed to the world, but the more I tugged, the more I brought attention to myself and distracted the very serious yogis around me.

To add insult to injury (literally), the old lady in-front of me started farting. Not once, but every few minutes she just let it rip. I'm sure you are thinking to yourself that I should have simply moved my mat out of the current of her ass, but these classes are literally packed with extreme garlic eaters and do gooders so my only option would have been going to the front and center of the room...in my new rubber band fat revealing fun suit. I decided face full of fart was better than THAT misery.

All I can say is that that one hour yoga glass deserved a full dose of Fueling.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

Mind Over...Junk Food

You all thought I'd disappeared didn't you? Surprisingly I am still here and have actually started my mandated "5 Day Fitness" week...or whatever G.I.Jane is calling it. Last week was the warm up and I actually tried to eat right and workout regularly. Yes, all the football watching over the weekend resulted in tatter tots and sausage cheese balls, but instead of eating an unlimted number, I actually counted out a portion and stuck to that. You have no idea how hard that was. I also went skiing a couple days in a row in deep powder. I decided that was enough to reward myself with time on the sofa...nursing the muscles I have discovered in my butt from skiing. I mean really? I'm sore THERE?

Yesterday was Day 1 of the real deal. Maybe it was knowing that the time was here to buckle down that sent me off the edge. Like a little girl I melted into a temper-tantrum over going to the gym. The bitter cold of the day had me daydreaming of excessive carbs and a warm blanket. Green chile cheese burgers, donuts and a beer. I don't eat wheat so you can see how these items are a sign of complete psychosis. It was an incredibly tough day.

But, I did it. I ran on the treadmill AND did the crossfit inspired exercises prescribed. I went to work at my favorite cafe and I skipped over the gluten free quinoa cookies I love (no really they are amazing!) and opted for the quinoa salad instead. At dinner I skipped the cheddar cheese I love and had a healthy version of chicken tacos (thank God for salsa). By 10:04pm I was STARVING, but sent myself to bed. It was difficult, but doable.

Day 2 is underway, my workout is looming and I am dreading it, but I actually was excited about my tuna salad creation at lunch. Surely this means I'm moving in the right direction right?

Either that, or the fantasy that I get to eat that green chile cheese burger at the end of these 5 days is my secret motivation.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!

Making Time for Time

Forgive yet another long absence.

I last left you with a running breakthrough and a new mental clarity. It felt good! I ran my long run with my husband on a trail I hate, but made it home well enough. I might as well admit that since my Ultra Runner hubby hasn't been running much lately and I had been, I felt the need to hang tough and show my strength. He of course is a pillar of strength and while he said it was difficult to keep up and finish, you never would have guessed it. He never complains or slows down. He is like a machine put on auto pilot. In truth, it scares me to run with him anymore, I push myself harder than I should and then feel utterly pathetic as I whine and literally moan toward the end of our runs. It has to be not only difficult for him to keep his own personal moral, but sooooo annoying to listen to.

Needless to say, I finished the run...and in order to impress him, tried to suppress my nausea. I am pretty use to the sensation of wanting to vomit after a run, you'd even say I was a pro. The gut twisting knot in the stomach, the beads of sweat that form on the forehead, the clammy skin that you know is a ghostly shade of white...ya, no problem, I got that covered. I can do all my stretches right through that. But THIS...this was different. This nausea started slow, as a sea that senses the storm far before it has hit and the waves are just getting bigger, rising and falling in my throat. Over the evening the nausea increased and the back of my head began to pound.  Finally I had to surrender and swoon "I don't feel good". Damn it, I almost showed him how badass I was!

I think because my hubby hears me say "I don't feel well" so often, he no longer actually attaches that to any real importance...it is simply my state of being. He kindly helped me to bed and mumbled something about the stomach bug going around. I quickly agreed. It couldn't be the run.

Reality set in after a couple days of having recurring concussion symptoms and finally asking all of my medical experts as well as doing a complete Google search (I know, the worst thing to do is be on the computer, but I am compulsive and had to know all the facts) that I had in fact pushed it too soon and given myself a set back. I knew after my fall that the concussion would take time, I took time off! I did as I was told and started back at running slowly. I really thought I had done it right. Now I am forced to take MORE time off.  I am beyond frustrated. My 1st Ultra is slipping away.

This concussion has been a gift in some ways. It has taught me to slow down, get off my phone/ computer/ device and BE. It has given me the clarity to back off work and my compulsive behavior...mostly because I can't remember what the hell I was going to do, the memory issues that go along with this are somewhere between hysterical and horrifying. Maybe just as I had that breakthrough with wrapping my mind around running, this was the slap in the face (or smack to the back of the head as it were) that I needed to wake up and look at how I have been living my life.

My 1st Ultra might not happen this Spring as planned, but I will start back slowly, plug away at an easy pace and enjoy the scenery. Sounds like a great way to live life and to run don't you think?

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

Getting your Freak on

It is an interesting journey, running. I use to say I would only run if something were chasing me. Now I am trying to run on vacation. If I can find a race somewhere interesting and call it a vacation, even better! So what happened? My crazy husband and his crazy brother happened.

When you watch someone run well, it is inspiring. Even if you think they are a little crazy for doing it. Maybe that is why it is so inspiring.

This past weekend, Jess and Chris ran yet another Marathon, this time in Taos. Jess had a PR of 3:48 (5th place over all) and shined with pride at the finish line. Chris, who was unable to do the training necessary to run a Marathon the way he would have wanted, finished 13 minutes behind his brother. The look of frustration and irritation was apparent. I started to feel bad for him. I started to empathize with the idea of not doing well despite all your hard work. Then I had a thought that stunned me into reality. Chris ran a few long runs, skipped most of the training and then ran a 4:01 Marathon at 7,000ft! Wait wait wait, I don't feel sorry for you! That is absolutely not fair! He came in 7th over all at the race. This is NOT a sad race day! 

It is at that point that I realized these crazy people I am surrounded by are more than just crazy. They are Freaks of nature. Jesse told me stories of working the packet pick up for the race and the number of people that were simply on vacation and saw that there was going to be a marathon the next day; they thought "hey that sounds like fun!". Who shows up to a mountain town and unexpectedly runs a FULL MARATHON?! Crazy people? No, Freaks!

Turns out there was a guy that ran a 100 miler 3 weeks previous and ran 2 full Marathons since then...he signed up for the "fun little Taos Marathon" because he had never run here before. WHAT?!
Women, men, it didn't matter, they flooded in and signed up to run...while on vacation. This is a whole new level of crazy runners.

For those of you not up on the running or training of a full Marathon, let me fill you in. 16 weeks is considered fast training for a Marathon and requires you to be a runner before hand, that means you run regularly, this is not a couch to Marathon program. Then as you increase millage, and want to kill yourself, you push your body to the brink, then you back off giving it much needed rest before the big race. It is important to mention at this point that people will refer to a Marathon as "little" in reference to the draw, the crowds or organization, NOT the length. A Full Marathon is ALWAYS 26.2 miles, always, even if it is a "little" race. So when people decide to run a Marathon on vacation, these are people that run Marathons a lot, people that are in such good shape that they do not need a taper, they can simply run 26.2 miles any time they want. They are, say it with me...FREAKS!

I stood at the finish line chatting with a new friend, a runner. He spoke of the blights of running a Marathon, the pain and destruction of your body. He spoke of how he loves the 5K or 10K. He sounded like the voice of sanity amongst all the crazies. My mom bought it hook, line and sinker. She looked at me, always the caring mother and I could see she was thinking "you see, maybe that is too much for your body" (not everyone is in the Marathons-are-fun crazy sector and family members are usually the ones most concerned for your health). I whispered to her that she was right, this guy wasn't crazy at all. He modestly told stories of running, but left out that he has run Duke City Marathon 14 times, placing 3rd last year and has run countless other Marathons around the country. No, no he isn't crazy. He is a Freak! He is actually the guy that trains Freaks!

So now as I started to see that I had joined the ranks of the crazy, there was yet more to aspire to. I am not yet a Freak. I don't know if I ever will be. I looked at my husband, he had just PR'd at 7,000ft and this was simply a training run on his way to a 50 miler this fall, definitely a Freak. I looked at my son, wearing my red "Fueled by Vivác" shirt, eyes beaming with excitement and pride at his dad, he has already run a 5K at age 5 and can't wait for his next opportunity to run another race and I see that we have probably spawned a little Freak.

So, as I pour another glass of wine, I am left to ponder, when will I discover my inner Freak?

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!

www.VivacWinery.com

Can drinking improve your workout?

     "Can drinking improve your workout?" Well that was enough to catch MY eye in a recent "Runner's World Magazine"! Being that Chris, Lili, Jesse and myself own a winery, our running is always accompanied by a drink. How else do you sooth sore legs? How else do you reward hard effort? Congratulate a friend on a PR? Or in my case, even finish a run without the promise of a great glass of wine. I know, for some of you it is a beer or you like the hard stuff, but I promise once you get yourself over to wine, you too will be chatting CAB! CAB! CAB!  (and I don't mean the vehicle that you wish would come along and save your sorry butt, I mean Cabernet Sauvignon!). I mean really, who works this hard and DOESN'T drink?

    Well it turns out a fair amount of do-gooders are out in the world and they think you should NOT drink the night before a run and that it actually lessens muscle recovery. Boo!! What do the scientists say? After an initial study measuring performance, they found that men actually performed worse and women better if they drank the night before a hard run! Cheers to me! So what does that mean for you? A shopping trip to Vivác Winery of course!

    All kidding aside, they found, like all studies, that they need to study more, but I do like the initial conclusions and I think I will "run" with that!

    Now where did I put my wine?

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!

www.VivacWinery.com

Getting High (Part 2 from "Sweet 16, are you ready to lose it?"

(PART 2...continued from "Sweet 16, are you ready to lose it?")

As tears welled in my eyes, we started down the hill. We were half way to a full 16 miles, farther than I have ever run, farther than I thought was ever possible! The truth is, I never wanted to be a runner, I was the one that would say "the only way to get me to run is if something is chasing me" and now, I am attempting 16 miles. If I can do this, maybe, just maybe, I will make it to my Napa Valley Marathon finish line.

At mile 13.1, Jesse congratulated me on passing my wall yet again (see blog "The Wall") and we strode on to mile 14, tears streaming down my cheeks; bouts of crying seem to be routine on my long runs. My legs were heavy and the pain was cursing through my quads. My feet thumped the ground shooting pain into my calf muscles. The end was in sight, I thought I might be able to will myself each and every last step through mile 15, when suddenly and quite by accident...I got high.

I have heard of getting high running, but had never experienced it. As a seasoned wine drinker, I know a thing or two about getting your buzz on but the "Runner's High" completely eluded me. What do you have to do, how far do you have to go to experience this magic people talk about? Evidently, I had to go 15 miles.

As I pushed on, I suddenly became clear headed. I stopped connecting to the pain in my body. As if on automatic pilot, my body took over and I realized I didn't have to will my body to do it, but trust my body to. I looked down at my legs, almost an out of body experience, and realized I had sped up! My breathing was steady and confidant, my body moved easily and I hit 16 miles strong... and then I lost it. I burst into tears, sobbing.

Was I proud of myself? Yes of course, but this was something else. It was as if I had reached so far into my core and each muscle fiber in order to accomplish this feat that I was now releasing emotions and stress that had been harbored in my body for who knows how long. Now, standing on the side of the road, it was purged out of me.

At home, I sat on my sofa...quite... still and without the normal battery of thoughts. The list of things to do, work that had to be done, was nonexistent. I felt utter peace. It became very clear, this is why people run long distances. I think I just found the Runner's High.

And so, with my sweet 16, I did lose it and not only was I okay, I felt I had really grown from the experience. I felt a sense of calm and decided as a full fledged woman now...a glass of Vivác Diavolo was appropriate.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!

www.VivacWinery.com

www.VivacWinery.com

Sweet 16, are you ready to lose it?

 

You know the feeling, butterflies in your tummy. Nervous anticipation. Naive excitement. Are you really ready? Will it be everything you want it to be? These questions plague an inexperienced person.

Weather or not you are ready, you have decided to go for it.

I was so nervous, it was so cold and I thought...am I going to totally lose it? 16 miles stares me straight in the face and whispers, come find me. I almost threw up.

Amazingly I started running, up hill, in 17 degree weather. Jesse had found a new trail, one Chris recommended, touting that it was truly beautiful. He was absolutely right. Our usual run along the river with birds of all sort flying and playing at the river's edge had actually become hideous as week after week we added new tough mileage to it. I went from loving the adorable ducks to wanting to throw rocks at them as they mockingly quacked at me. But THIS, this was a new experience; a road that winds up into the mountains and looks out over the mesa. We turned around at 8 miles, a vista before us that makes your heart pound and again I thought...am I going to lose it? Tears burned my eyes...

 (to be continued...)


-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!

www.VivacWinery.com