We are very honored & thrilled that you chose to share your story with us Cynthia!! We love that you are inspired to run & write about it (we do that too)! Wendy & Matt :-)
Here is a bit about Cynthia Sambro-Rier!!
"I basically just started running last June. I'm a novice at 39 and have fallen deeply in love with running. It has challenged me in ways I didn't think was possible and I'm finally, at almost 40 ( on Friday) have found a medium that is helping me grow spiritually, physically and emotionally. I have a blog that no one follows ;) except for me and a friend but my story is pretty much there".
Thanks for taking the time to take a look!
http://runcynrun.wordpress.com/
Cynthia
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
All My Colors
This is it...I am down to the crunch. One last week before I run a race in another country dressed like an Indian Princess.
The last 3 and 1/2 months have been a journey. I trained, following the schedule I laid out pretty much to a T! I am very proud of myself. I look back to last year's 1/2 training for the Big Run in Calgary, and this time around is MUCH different. I am in better shape, both physically and mentally. My endurance level is improved, my eating has been really good. I just felt all in all, fabulous! NO ITB injuries this time...thank heavens! I am happy with how it has all come together.
Then along comes today. My last long run of the training before the race. I am never one to back down from a challenge, so when I was faced with running indoors, on a crap treadmill, I sucked it up and donned my runners. It was time to get this show on the road (or treadmill in this case).
The run started out ok...I run the first 3 miles (yes miles, not km) and I feel good. Then I stop to grab Sport Beans out of my bag, and continue on. The treadmill resets itself. NO biggie...lets restart this fu..sucker.
I get into about the 6th mile, and in comes this lovely lady Penny and I think her son. He hops onto the treadmill and with his freakin' Gazelle-y legs, takes off like a scalded cat, and me with my short stubs, plugs on, feeling slightly deflated. I am running and running and would probably never catch up to him. He is barely exerting any energy, and I am starting to feel the hatin' coming on for this POS treadmill. It was as tho Marky Mark had written his song, "Good Vibrations" in tribute to this fu...sucker.
I keep on. Gazelle-y legs is just a young guy...I ask him, "Are you training for a race"? Nope...just running. For the fun of it. **Insert me sighing heavily** Kids these days.
My stubbies are getting pained...my calf muscles are freakin' hurtin' like a bad country song and I am still only at about 10 miles. YAY...only 3.1 more miles to go.
GL is still going strong. I have had to take several walk breaks, my left side has a nasty stitch which won't go away and I wonder to myself, do they do leg transplants at the Bow Island Hospital?
Penny & GL pack up and head home. They wish me lots of luck and I give his legs one last ogle as he walks out the door. **Insert second heavy sigh**
I stare ahead into to this little room in the gym which has a red punching bag hanging from it's ceiling. I have this thing about boxing. I think I would be great at it and really want to try it...BAD! So, I stare hard at the bag. I am strong. I am powerful. I have powerful arms and shoulders and I want that to transcend to my lower half. I keep chanting to myself, "You are strong, you are strong". I run, feeling NOT strong at all today, but damn it all, I am almost there!
I hit my Ipod to play my Power Song, "Awake and Alive" by Skillet. I go to another place in my head where my legs aren't paining, and my ass cheeks aren't aching and the stitch in my side has effed off. I have crossed the 13 mile mark and I have only .10 of a mile to go. I ramp the speed up and I am feeling like someone just told me I won the lottery. I cross that 13.1 mile finish line on that damn treadmill and then pull the plug.
I stand there in the silence of the gym, with Maroon 5 playing in my ears and I just cry. I never intended to get emotional, but I did. It was tough. It was honestly the worst run since I started running. But I will never give up. Even if I have to walk.
I know every run is not perfect. There are times they are really just NOT GOOD! That is part of the process of being a runner.
I gathered myself together, after the Ugly Cry and packed my gym bag for home. I did it. I made it through. The race is next Sunday, and all I can say is I am so glad to have this bad run out of my system. Now the wonderful race experience awaits!!
Pocohantas was a tough chick. She ran barefoot in the forest with her Gazelle-y legged friends and she rocked it out! I may not run as fast as her, but I can guarantee I am going to have her killer spirit and Take-No-Crap attitude. I will run with everything I have and maybe paint some new Colors of My Own on that Orlando landscape!
The last 3 and 1/2 months have been a journey. I trained, following the schedule I laid out pretty much to a T! I am very proud of myself. I look back to last year's 1/2 training for the Big Run in Calgary, and this time around is MUCH different. I am in better shape, both physically and mentally. My endurance level is improved, my eating has been really good. I just felt all in all, fabulous! NO ITB injuries this time...thank heavens! I am happy with how it has all come together.
Then along comes today. My last long run of the training before the race. I am never one to back down from a challenge, so when I was faced with running indoors, on a crap treadmill, I sucked it up and donned my runners. It was time to get this show on the road (or treadmill in this case).
The run started out ok...I run the first 3 miles (yes miles, not km) and I feel good. Then I stop to grab Sport Beans out of my bag, and continue on. The treadmill resets itself. NO biggie...lets restart this fu..sucker.
I get into about the 6th mile, and in comes this lovely lady Penny and I think her son. He hops onto the treadmill and with his freakin' Gazelle-y legs, takes off like a scalded cat, and me with my short stubs, plugs on, feeling slightly deflated. I am running and running and would probably never catch up to him. He is barely exerting any energy, and I am starting to feel the hatin' coming on for this POS treadmill. It was as tho Marky Mark had written his song, "Good Vibrations" in tribute to this fu...sucker.
I keep on. Gazelle-y legs is just a young guy...I ask him, "Are you training for a race"? Nope...just running. For the fun of it. **Insert me sighing heavily** Kids these days.
My stubbies are getting pained...my calf muscles are freakin' hurtin' like a bad country song and I am still only at about 10 miles. YAY...only 3.1 more miles to go.
GL is still going strong. I have had to take several walk breaks, my left side has a nasty stitch which won't go away and I wonder to myself, do they do leg transplants at the Bow Island Hospital?
Penny & GL pack up and head home. They wish me lots of luck and I give his legs one last ogle as he walks out the door. **Insert second heavy sigh**
I stare ahead into to this little room in the gym which has a red punching bag hanging from it's ceiling. I have this thing about boxing. I think I would be great at it and really want to try it...BAD! So, I stare hard at the bag. I am strong. I am powerful. I have powerful arms and shoulders and I want that to transcend to my lower half. I keep chanting to myself, "You are strong, you are strong". I run, feeling NOT strong at all today, but damn it all, I am almost there!
I hit my Ipod to play my Power Song, "Awake and Alive" by Skillet. I go to another place in my head where my legs aren't paining, and my ass cheeks aren't aching and the stitch in my side has effed off. I have crossed the 13 mile mark and I have only .10 of a mile to go. I ramp the speed up and I am feeling like someone just told me I won the lottery. I cross that 13.1 mile finish line on that damn treadmill and then pull the plug.
I stand there in the silence of the gym, with Maroon 5 playing in my ears and I just cry. I never intended to get emotional, but I did. It was tough. It was honestly the worst run since I started running. But I will never give up. Even if I have to walk.
I know every run is not perfect. There are times they are really just NOT GOOD! That is part of the process of being a runner.
I gathered myself together, after the Ugly Cry and packed my gym bag for home. I did it. I made it through. The race is next Sunday, and all I can say is I am so glad to have this bad run out of my system. Now the wonderful race experience awaits!!
Pocohantas was a tough chick. She ran barefoot in the forest with her Gazelle-y legged friends and she rocked it out! I may not run as fast as her, but I can guarantee I am going to have her killer spirit and Take-No-Crap attitude. I will run with everything I have and maybe paint some new Colors of My Own on that Orlando landscape!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)