Running Tips from the Non-Natural-Born Runner

If you missed my original post about how I ultimately became a runner, you can read it here.

I am not certain I was born to be a runner, but I am stubborn and decided to challenge nature anyway. Instead, I made the choice to become a runner regardless of lack of natural-born talent, albeit after I basically kicked and screamed and said there was no way I was ever putting on a pair of running shoes. Deep down, though, I always wanted to know what the wind would feel like on my face if my feet could pass effortlessly over the trails. I imagined a point where my body moved so fluidly that my mind found a blissful void of conscious thought as my silhouette practically flew at a seven-minute mile pace amidst the backdrop of a dramatic sunset. Reality has a funny way of grounding one's thoughts, though. Running was never something that felt natural to me until last year, and as for effortless or being capable of shutting off my brain, well, let's just say that's a work in progress and will likely always be part of the challenge that I love about running.

After much trial and error over the last few years, I have definitely learned some lessons that I think are worth sharing.

1. Get professionally fitted for the right pair of shoes. The correct shoes for your foot shape, arch length, pronation style, foot strike, etc., can make all the difference between a good run vs. a bad one, and they can significantly reduce strain and even injury. The random cute shoes you find on the sale rack or the pair your friend runs in likely will not work for you. Ignore the obnoxious bright yellow color, accept that you probably need to wear a running shoe in a larger size than your street shoe, and get the one that feels amazing on your feet when you actually run - not just walk - in them. Sometimes running shoes are kind of ugly, and you might just be the person who gets fitted two sizes larger than your street shoe. It's okay. It doesn't mean you have big feet. Trust the person fitting that big ugly shoe to your foot.
2. Start slower than you want and don't be in a hurry to speed up. My daughter ran a couple miles without stopping the first time I took her running with me. She was only nine years old. On the other hand, It took me weeks of consistently switching off between walking and jogging before I was able to slowly jog one mile, and I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I thought I was going to die every step of that jog. Four weeks later I barely survived a three-mile run at nearly a 13-minute/mile pace, but darn it I did it. Now I can run 13.1 miles at a consistent 9:45 pace and still smile for the camera. Moral of the story? My kid's natural gift is probably not the norm. Don't be afraid to be like me and snail your way to becoming a decent runner. Speed comes with time. Or maybe not at all, and that's okay, too. 
3. Focus on being a strong runner, not a fast one. I cannot stress how helpful this mindset is for me. Familiarize yourself with proper running technique; learn about posture, cadence, breathing methods, and arm swing, and learn how to avoid over-striding, hunching forward, and looking down. If something hurts, slow down and reassess your form. Keep it slow and build endurance using proper form. Eventually, you will likely speed up naturally. 
4. Hydrate properly before, during, and after a run. Water probably isn't enough to keep you hydrated if you run long distances - your body needs salt, too. Drink something with electrolytes, and remember to hydrate the day before a long run. If you plan to run six or more miles, bring water with you or make sure you have a reliable water source along the way (if it's hot out, just play it safe and bring water even for a short run). Don't forget to rehydrate after the run, lest you be paid a visit by the horribly painful charlie horse wizard in the middle of the night. If you forget this tip, don't worry; after waking up with your calf cramping and screaming omgimgonnadie! one time after a long run, you'll remember this for next time.
5. Don't let the weather stop you, dress appropriately instead. If I let every cold and rainy Seattle day stop me from getting outside, I never would have stuck with running. It is so easy to convince yourself to stay inside when the temperatures drop or the forecast calls for rain. It's a little more difficult to justify that temptation if you have all the appropriate gear. If you're not sure what to wear in bad weather, check out one of my previous posts about running in the cooler temperatures and rain here. 
6. Cross training can be fun. If you're like me, you automatically think, "Ugh, weights and spending time at the gym ... kill me now," when you hear the term "cross training." Cross training doesn't just need to be cursing through squats and lunges next to some dude who's farting and grunting while bench pressing twice his weight, though. Instead, consider trying out something new: hip-hop dance, Zumba, barre classes, swimming, Cross Fit, cycling, hiking, aerial arts, yoga, etc. Try a combination of things; whatever you need to keep active when you're not running. 
7. Sign up for a race or running event. Paying for a race or other running event gives you a goal that helps get your lazy bum out the door in a pair of running shoes when you would rather be on the couch eating Oreos. Once your goal is set, find a good training program and follow it religiously. When that race is over, sign up for another one. Always have something to work toward. 
8. Trade excuses to skip a run with the 10-minute rule. On the difficult days, I combat my inner whining (I don't wanna run because I have a sniffly nose and a bit of a headache, or I'm just so exhausted and I already ran yesterday...) with a simple rule: I can quit if I want to, but not until I have been running for ten minutes. Ten minutes is a minimal commitment; it's probably not going to kill me, and those sore muscles or stomachache can handle ten minutes of movement. Interestingly enough, I have never stopped at ten minutes; instead, I have always managed to run at least twice that amount of time even on the worst days. 
9. Join a running group or find a reliable running buddy. Misery loves company, and company can make an activity that could be miserable into a fun and enjoyable time. Not sure where to start? Do a quick internet search for running groups near you. Give them a call and ask about it. When you show up, walk your nervous self over to the group and introduce yourself. Tell them you're new and that it's totally intimidating trying this for the first time. People like honesty, and I'm willing to bet that most were scared the first time they showed up to that running group as well. I was borderline terrified the first time I showed up to my running group, and I'm pretty sure I was shaking when I walked in and introduced myself. I wasn't a strong runner, and I was certain I was going to poop out at mile one when I started at a pace quicker than usual. Six miles later, I finished with the store owner on one side and one of the employees on the other side of me. I'd run faster than I ever had, managed to throw a few words into the conversation between gasping breaths, and was told that I was a much better runner than I gave myself credit for. I was hooked after that, and now my running buddies are like a second family.
10. Know when to give yourself a break. Look - sometimes you legitimately need a break. Most of the time, that voice inside is just encouraging you to be lazy when you really need to get out the door, but sometimes you do need a break. If you're running a fever or expelling liquid out of either end, stay in bed. If your knee is bothering you, your lower back hurts when you walk, or you have a blister the size of the moon on your foot, it's okay to take a rest day. If you feel bad about skipping a run, go for a walk or do some yoga instead.
    
    And finally...
11. Occasionally treat yourself. A treat doesn't need to be a donut; rather, think of it as a reward for hard work. Treat yourself to a massage when everything hurts, buy yourself that shiny new running shirt, or allow yourself a day of lounging in your pajamas while soaking your feet in a pot of hot water and epsom salt as you watch a movie after a big race. Don't overdo the treats, though. Save them for the days you really need them, such as after you reach a goal.

I'd love to know if you have any favorite running tips. Please don't be shy and feel free to share in the comments. 

Atonement for My Gluttonous Sins

I did something bad on Thanksgiving. Now I'm paying for it. I am ashamed of this fact, so I'm just going to come clean and tell you all about it.

Several years ago, I got very ill. Amidst my mental health struggles, it became apparent that there was something very wrong with my digestive system. In hindsight, the pain was always there. I remember experiencing days with similar stomach pain as a child. My parents called me a hypochondriac, but discomfort much like extreme gas pain would creep up on me several times per month. I was later diagnosed with lactose intolerance in high school. At that time, my doctor told me that yogurt and some cheese should not bother me too much. I switched to using soy milk in my cereal and took Lactaid every time I ate diary. It helped a little, I guess, but the stomach pain never went away completely.

I was also constantly combating skin issues. Acne, rashes, simple scrapes that didn't heal as quickly as they should. Acne is supposed to decrease as you age, but mine got worse. As I approached my 30th birthday, I decided I was done with the cystic pimples that kept showing up along my jawline and on the back of my shoulders. It was extremely painful, and I was ashamed to have such horrible skin. I went on Accutane, which I had fought using for over a decade, and my skin has been mostly clear ever since. While I would have liked to avoid using such a powerful drug, I can't say I regret it; it was the right choice for me.

Even though my acne cleared up, my illness did not. The stomach pain, which I had endured since childhood, seemed to become worse as I approached 30. My horrible sleeping habits, which I had also struggled with since I was a child, had reached record insomniac heights. Not surprisingly, I experienced fatigue and consistent problems with depression that seemed impossible to combat. Swelling in my big toe joints was diagnosed as some sort of autoimmune-related arthritis when the doctor looked at my x-rays and scratched his head, unsure of why my dancer's feet were in such bad shape when my cartilage was in far better condition than expected.

In 2013, the stomach pain reached record extremes. I was working at a prestigious firm where nice business attire and sitting on one's rump in front of a computer all day was required. Every day for months on end my lower belly hurt so badly that I secretly unbuttoned my pants as I slaved away. Any pressure at all on my stomach made the pain more intense. The week that I began sweating from the icepick stabbing and twisting my colon causing me to feel like I was going to black out from the intensity was the final sign that I needed to call my doctor.

"I either have colon cancer or Crohn's disease. Either way, I'm going to die." I had told my doctor. All my vitals were fine. After much discussion and poking and prodding, I agreed to a blood test to check for food allergies. My doctor mentioned something about a possible gluten allergy, to which I may or may not have freaked out about.

A few weeks later, I learned that I am not simply "lactose intolerant," I am full-blown allergic to dairy, particularly to whey and yogurt. Also on that list of do not eat or you may die are pecans, egg whites, and several other foods to which I am sensitive but do not cause my immune system to freak out quite as much if eaten in small occasional doses. Luckily, gluten is not on that list.

My doctor explained that eating the allergens causes my immune system to react and start fighting, thus leading to inflammation. The stomach pain was going to take some time to alleviate once I removed the "bad" foods from my diet; the years of eating them had severely irritated my gut, which could take months to heal. I'm not going to lie; the next few months were hell for me as I learned to navigate my newfound medical issue. A relapse meant return of the extreme pain. Going to restaurants and quietly alerting them to a food allergy meant public humiliation in some places. I won't name names. It was awful.

Slowly and with time, I was able to adjust my diet to one that is safe. I have never been much of a meat-eater, so I found that primarily eating a plant-based, whole-foods (think vegan) diet makes it easiest for me to avoid the allergens. I am sensitive to soy, though, so I throw in a small amount of chicken and sushi here and there to ensure I have enough energy to keep up with my activity levels.

Finally, the perks of my new diet emerged. Minimal to no pain in my stomach meant I could sleep soundly. The chronic fatigue and constant ill feeling went away entirely. My skin, though still sensitive, broke out in less rashes. Even the swelling in my joints minimized. Though the diet can be a pain to follow, the benefits are quite amazing; I actually feel like a human being.

So fast forward to Thanksgiving. Our good friends were gracious enough to host dinner at their house this year. For no particular reason, I woke up in a bad mood and went full-blown I-have-no-self-control when I got around the food. Against all common sense, I ate ALL. OF. THE. CHEESE., devoured the mashed potatoes mixed with milk and sour cream, desecrated the creamed spinach, and finished off a piece of cheese cake.

I am a disciplined person, so I cannot explain why I did this. Within an hour of eating, the stomach pain began. The next day, I was horribly uncomfortable and wanted to hide in my bed and cry, but I went for a few mile run anyway. By Saturday I was so miserable I could hardly function. On Sunday, I woke up and ran eight miles, the pain finally starting to make its way out of my body. And yesterday, well, although my stomach was mostly feeling better, I felt anxious and depressed. Why did I do this to myself? I went to a late hot power yoga class and tried to forgive myself. My back was hurting and my joints were sore, but I pushed through it.

Today, I have an appointment with my therapist during which I plan to discuss my sudden lack of self control and will hopefully get back on track mentally. Tuesday is also a running group night, so hopefully I'll have a chance to laugh with a couple of my Hood to Coast buddies as we gallop through the wicked cold (but hopefully dry) evening.

Today is hard, but I just keep reminding myself of one of my favorite quotes:

It's a good reminder.

Working Out Like A Kid

I have two daughters, ages 10 and 8, and they are both rock stars when it comes down to staying in shape. My oldest is a distance runner who runs with me regularly and finished her most recent 5K race with an 8:34 min/mile pace (no joke - she's fast!). And my eight-year-old... well, she has ABS:

No filter, unless you count the star blocking out her school logo.

How does one get ABS like this kid? Let me know when you figure out a shortcut because I sure as heck am not planning to join a gymnastics team anytime ever.  This long-haired, loud-voiced goofball was born with broad shoulders and muscles where no newborn is supposed to have muscle definition. When we discovered she has my abnormal flexibility, it was only a matter of time and oh-my-god-how-are-we-going-to-pay-for-this-insanity before she was signed up for gymnastics.

WTF

She normally spends six hours per week at the gym after school, but classes were cancelled last week due to Thanksgiving. One would think that my daughter would be off the hook and free to lounge in front of the TV filling her dimpled face with turkey and mashed potatoes, but no. Her coach sent this scary death threat out with specific directions that boiled down to this: CONDITIONING EVERY SINGLE DAY DURING THE BREAK OR BUST.

Translation: Try not to die. I dare you.

I'm moderately jealous of my kid's ability to do this kind of horrendous (and frankly, amazing) conditioning with good humor and a brace-face smile while giggling through the pain, so I decided to give some of it a shot with her.

"Hollow Hold" for 60 Seconds
Dragon's Gate Capris and Top by INKnBURN

For the record, I didn't make it very far because I had to head out for my yoga class (and also because my abs were screaming for dear life after a couple of tuck-ups following 60 seconds of hollow hold). If I'm being honest, I think this is a conditioning list worth working toward being able to do, regardless of the fact that I will never be a gymnast. However, unless you're an avid yogi and dancer, I would suggest modifying the splits, bridge, and handstand portion of the list.

This is our party trick.

I have been asked by a few people whether I think spending that many hours in a gym is a good thing for an eight-year-old to do, and my answer is this: If it were my older daughter, no. But this one? She loves every second of it. The day that she no longer enjoys it is the day that she's welcome to make the choice to spend her time doing something else. We don't push her or expect her to be on a team; we agreed to let her do it as long as 1) she makes school her priority; and 2) she continues to enjoy gymnastics.

While I am amazed by both of my daughters' natural athletic ability, I also feel like this is one thing I did correctly amidst the chaos, frustrations, and I'm sure the many mistakes I have made despite my best efforts as a parent. I want my kiddos to value physical health and mental wellness, and I see them following my footsteps when I watch them enjoy doing borderline-crazy physical activities at such young ages. I truly believe that teaching through example is one of the most effective forms of teaching, period, and seeing my girls excited to take on these kinds of physical challenges makes me proud of both them and myself for being their example.

"It's got electrolytes!"

If you haven't seen the movie Idiocracy, stop what you're doing and watch it right now so that the title of today's post makes sense. I am usually a total film snob watching the latest Sundance Film Festival award-winner while savoring a bottle of fine red wine and nodding solemnly during the depressing ending, as if I know anything at all about cinematic arts. Not with Idiocracy, though. While I usually avoid funny blockbusters, I laugh ridiculously at that one every time while silently worrying that humanity may be headed in that particular direction.

Where was I going with this? Oh yes, electrolytes. Because one of my favorite lines in Idiocracy is "It's got electrolytes!"

For whatever reason, I have always had a bit of an uphill battle with dehydration. When my younger daughter was an infant, I started having heart palpitations that made it difficult to breathe and blacked out while nursing her. Several trips to my midwife, doctor, and a cardiologist later, I learned that I have a minor heart condition, tachycardia, that is made much worse by dehydration.

Water has always been my preferred drink. Sure, I'd die without my morning coffee (black, please), I often enjoy a cup of hot decaf tea in the evening, and I like some red wine with my snobbery during a Friday night film, but water is the only thing I drink during the day, with meals, and pretty much any other time if given the choice. I'm not a juice-drinker, I am allergic to milk, I dislike soda and other carbonated drinks, and I'm not a fan of sweetened liquids in general. Just give me a glass of cool or room-temp water and I'll be happy.

Well, eight years ago a cardiologist told me that despite my H2O consumption, I suffer from dehydration. Say what? He told me that it is critical that I drink liquids containing electrolytes if I plan to do sweat-worthy activity, and he recommended I drink Gatorade or something similar. Unfortunately, I don't like Gatorade because the flavor is too strong and far too sweet for me.

I drink a lot of Smart Water, which does the trick fairly well, but sometimes I need a little more than that. Luckily, I discovered NUUN electrolyte drink tabs during this last year. While I would still prefer less flavor, the carbonation is minimal and the taste is gentle enough that I can drink it without gagging.

Not my favorite flavor, but drinkable.

Though I still stick to drinking water most of the time, I do use the drink tabs the day before a long run (6+ miles), during trail and other long races, and while I am recovering from sweating enough to scare a small child. As much as I kind of hate admitting it, drinking the electrolyte-infused water really does help a lot.

It also helps with hangovers from being too much of a snob on film night. Not that I would know anything about that.

Find Your Inner Wild

My Hood to Coast team will not be running from Mt. Hood to Seaside this upcoming year and has instead decided to run a different relay race for 2017: Ragnar Trail Rainier. I am both wicked excited and slightly terrified of this change.

Here's the part where I admit to being a total chicken: I have been afraid of the dark my entire life. Now, as an adult, I'd like to say that fear has lessened, but I'd be lying. The fact is, it scares me. Period. One of the best and worst parts of running a 24-hour relay race is that we have to run solo through the night.

I was Runner #2 for Hood to Coast this year, and each of my legs were roughly six miles. The first six miles were straight down the mountain. It was morning, but the heat was intense. I remember my quads feeling like they were going to explode near mile three and running out of water half a mile from the exchange point. After powering through the last stretch of downhill, I relaxed in the van playing the role of navigator and jumped out at each exchange to bring water to my incoming team members and cheer for each next runner at the start of their leg.

Excitedly waiting for our team captain to start the race. #HoneyBucketSelfie

Several hours later, I geared up in my reflective vest and headlamp and ventured out for six more miles in the dark, all mostly a steady low-grade uphill. It was brutal. The only things that made the dark okay were the stream of vehicles with lights at my back and tons of other runners suffering along with me. The third leg I ran was through gentle mountainous rolling hills boasting views of peaceful farmland. Saying hi to the cows grazing in the fields and breathing in the blissful fresh air through moments of fog while my legs screamed filled me with a sense of nearly delusional well-being and serenity. It was a crisp early morning, and I was exhausted to the point of hysterical laughter but somehow managed to jump over two snakes in the middle of the road, run up a steep mile-long hill toward the end, and fly to the exchange knowing that I was finally done running. Though my slowest run, it was my favorite leg of the race.

Portland at sunset, shortly before running my second leg.

So why did I say that running through the night is somehow a good thing? I like that I voluntarily did something that scares me. In fact, running Hood to Coast scared me in general. I was worried that I was not a strong enough runner, that my times wouldn't be fast enough, and that my awkward self was going to have difficulty socializing with the much cooler and more experienced runners of my van. None of those fears were validated; in fact, it was the opposite experience. I ran much stronger than I thought I could, and my times were just as solid as everyone else's. To top it off, my teammates were just as quirky as I am. I had a wonderful time and instantly felt like my van members were the "solemates" I was always meant to have.

Hood to Coast Post-Race "Solemates"

My Well-Deserved Medal

I'm not afraid of running on roads with other people in the dark, but I am terrified being in the middle of a forest at night, with or without others. For the Ragnar Trail race, I will be running 16.1 miles split into three different legs through the trails of Crystal Mountain. One of those legs will likely be in the middle of the night. Yesterday, I sent an email to my team captain begging to run the shortest of the three trails during my night shift, to which I'm sure he rolled his eyes but will hopefully be persuaded.

Despite the pending doom of running through a forest in the middle of the night where I will surely become meal to a large freaking cat, bear, and dragon, I am elated to know that I am already signed up and have paid for another relay race. In the meantime, I will be spending the next several months doing the dreaded Iron Strength Workout for Runners, running through trails (yes, even at night), and learning how to use a ninja sword to fight the jackelopes that are already planning to chase me.

If you're signed up for that race, I'll be the one sprinting with a machete and bear mace blasting gangsta' rap from a bluetooth speaker wearing INKnBURN everything, and screaming at every tiny leaf that rustles in the wind during the night as I attempt to Find My Inner Wild.

Half Marathon Survival Tactics

Yesterday I ran the half marathon that I was semi-dreading due to last week's unfortunate snotty sinus infection paired with ebola (or whatever landed in my stomach and tried to kill me). Despite my concerns and more-delicate-than-usual health condition, I finished strong in about 2:15, which is nowhere near my personal best but still much better than I expected. That time included a few-minute waiting period while my running buddy made a pit stop at a Honey Bucket around mile 11, during which I enjoyed the beautiful Lake Washington views and stretched a little while checking my Suunto watch impatiently. I suppose I could have trotted along without him, but the conversation was keeping my spirits high and I did not feel any pressure to finish in a hurry.

In addition to the decent finish time, I am most proud of how I ran the race. So now, whether you really care or not, here's my play-by-play of *drumroll*... how I survived running a half marathon while sick.

I couldn't sleep the night before, probably due to anticipation of oh my God how am I going to run after nearly dying this week. I bounced out of bed early after my date with insomnia and woke myself up with a quick warm shower to encourage my stuffed-up sinuses to have mercy on me. The temperature was predicted to be surprisingly decent for mid-November in the upper-40s/low-50s, but a large storm passing through promised rain. Last year I ran the same race in 28°F while slipping on ice and frosty fallen leaves, so this year's weather prediction was a massive improvement. I dressed in a pair of my favorite INKnBURN capris, short-sleeved tech top, and Gore Windstopper jacket.

Did I take this photo before or after running?
Only the smell will tell.

After shoveling a very small bowl of cereal down my throat (we were out of bananas, which is my go-to pre-run food), downing a shot of hot caffeine, and brushing my teeth, I rushed out the door about five minutes late. The race was being hosted by my running group, which is only a ten minute drive from my house that early in the day. My meager breakfast didn't cut it, so on my way over, I hastily ingested my favorite pre-running energy treat: Stroopwafel, which you must pronounce loudly with a comical accent as [Strōp]+[vä+fəl].

Stroopwafel! Strooooooopvahfeeel!
I never promised I was totally sane.

Somehow, I made it on time to check in, pin on my race bib, and use a flushing toilet before heading out to start the race with an easy 10:30 mile. Several of my Hood to Coast team members were there for a normal Sunday run, so I had the unexpected pleasure of pacing with three of them for the first several miles as the rain prediction turned into reality. My team captain was there to tease me in his German accent, "Okay Tamra... are you warmed up yet? When were you planning to pick up the pace?" It has been three months since I ran that amazing relay, and I still feel a gush of warm-and-fuzzies every time I see these people.

At mile five, the last of my H2C buddies turned, waved, and wished me luck. My running friend also going the full 13.1 and I were discussing various trail races and had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that we managed to very slowly increase. By the time we made it to the porta-potty at mile 11, we were running a comfortable 9:00 mile through the light but persistent rain. Nothing hurt, no aches and pains nagged me to run slower, and I managed to keep a conversation going through the rolling hills without too much heavy breathing or snot-blowing involved. We finished at the 2:15 mark at a speed of 7:53 min/mile according to my Suunto, and I was neither out of breath nor limping as I made my way to the bagels and apple pie. I am usually pretty spent after that kind of distance, so I was incredibly proud of myself for holding back and playing it safe. Additionally, this was my first consistent negative-split half marathon, which I consider a heck of an achievement. If you are unfamiliar with what "negative-splits" are (I was, so no shame in that), it basically means that each mile you run is faster than the previous mile.

Whenever I have race experience, I like to think about what I learned. Here's my list from yesterday:

1. Running a half marathon while sick may be incredibly stupid but is entirely doable.
2. My Ón shoes are still my favorite half-marathon kicks, even in the rain.
3. Walking the steep hill at mile 9 is an acceptable energy-saving strategy.
4. Waiting for your running buddy to take a dump mid-race makes for hilarous conversation.
5. Starting much slower than normal can equal consistent negative splits and plenty of energy at the end of the race.
6. I am never wearing that old sports bra for a long-distance run again. The chafing is unbearable. 
7. Running more than 13.1 miles is completely doable. I don't need to be afraid anymore. 
8. I am much stronger than I think I am.

Rain-Soaked Shoes by Ón
Shoe Pod Tracker by Suunto

Altra Shoes and Swinging Arms

Last night I attended a running clinic featuring the designer of Altra shoes, Golden Harper. While I do not (yet) own a pair of Altra shoes, I have had the opportunity to demo them during a several-mile run. Though I admit that they felt a little odd at first, I felt very comfortable running in them by mile three. I also trust that they are good kicks because my mother, who is notorious for her constant complaining about her extremely wide, neuroma-ridden feet that fit in nothing other than a pair of socks comfortably, hiked the 500-mile Camino de Santiago through Spain in a pair earlier this year. Not only did she live to tell about her adventures, but she frequently raves about the brand as the only athletic shoe that has never caused her any pain.

The shoe design boasts a "zero-drop" cushioning and box-shaped toe space that allows the foot to land and spread out naturally, much like a minimalist shoe concept but with cushion (and far more comfort). The thing I found most intriguing about the shoe design is that it encourages proper running form by removing the sloping cushion and pointed toe-bed of traditional popular running shoes.

The clinic was small, which was great because we had ample opportunity to ask questions and trouble-shoot individual running form problems. My running-form pitfall? Over-striding. Other issues? Hyper-flexibility throughout all my joints that leads to instability issues and pain in my hips, knees, and rolling my ankles. The fix? Try harder to land with my foot directly under my hip, and focus on my upper body, particularly how I swing my arms, to achieve that ideal foot placement. I feel like I work on this all the time, especially when I start feeling tired, but the difference is that I am supposed to be thinking of swinging my elbows back and minimizing the amount of arm motion versus punching my arms forward like many of us were taught.

This evening I gave that a try and focused on both my posture and arm swing during my four-mile run, which I did with my 10-year-old daughter at about a 9:25 min/mile pace with my running group. That teeny, skinny, long-legged child of mine is the runner I wish I was born to be, and I gave her the tip that I was working on to remind myself to keep doing it. I must admit that my run felt great despite the cold air on my nose and cheeks.

If you haven't heard of Altra shoes, definitely check them out. And if you have never focused on the back swing of the arm versus the forward swing, I think it's worth a try, especially if you have difficulty keeping your posture upright.

Next week the running store I buy my shoes at is supposed to get the latest Altra models in stock. I will definitely be getting a pair, so I'll let you know what I think of them once I have the chance to run more than a handful of miles in them.