Amy Reinink

You know how I can tell I’m actually training for something? When I am so set on getting in a scheduled run, I actually use … the treadmill. (Cue dramatic, scary music here).

If I wasn’t training for something specific (the Allen Stone Run-Swim-Run July 21 and the Virginia Beach Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon over Labor Day weekend, in this case), I would have coped with the heat wave smothering the East Coast right now by doing the ABT workout yesterday: the Anything But the Treadmill workout. I would have swam, most likely, or done only my TRX class, which was certainly workout enough on its own. But since I am actually training for something, I sucked it up and ran my first speed workout in … well, no need to figure out how long it’s been.

You know what? It wasn’t that bad! I did three 1-mile repeats and two half-mile repeats, all of which were steadily paced, and none of which caused me to vomit. I also did not give myself heat exhaustion, as I almost certainly would have had I run outside. It’s the kind of workout I’ll look back on in a month and think: Of course I can run a fast 5K. I’ve been doing speed work!

Here’s how the rest of the week shook out:

Saturday: Stand-up paddleboarding, three hours

Sunday: Run 45 minutes on road (HRR Chick’s Beach 4.2-mile route, with 10-minute detour). Swim 27 minutes in Bay—ROUGH! Run 10 minutes on beach, barefoot (from Alexander’s on the Bay to end of beach past bridge and back). [EDITOR’S NOTE: The editor is not running barefoot because of any sort of desire to become a Barefoot Runner, but only because her upcoming run-swim-run includes a 1K sprint on the beach, during which she will be … barefoot.]

Monday: Run 8 minutes on beach, barefoot; swim 40 minutes in Bay (much calmer today); run five minutes on beach, barefoot

Tuesday: TRX class in the morning – tough class, with Yuki as a substitute teacher! P.m.: 4.2-mile run with HRR. Hot, humid. Sore and tired. Ran with Mel, who paced me to a non-embarrassing 36-minute finish (8:30-minute miles).

Wednesday: Swim 46 minutes in Bay. Felt awesome! Triceps still sore from TRX. Ran 10 minutes on beach before swimming.

Thursday: Run speed workout on the treadmill to escape terrible, terrible heat. 3X1-mile starting at 8-minute-mile pace, working down to 7 by the end of each mile. 2Xhalf-mile repeats, 7:30-minute-mile pace. Followed immediately by TRX class. Did extra core/hamstring stuff, including something called the “body saw.”

Friday: Swim 45 minutes – Bay

Saturday (tomorrow): Run. Sunday: REST.

Those of you who followed my Great Chesapeake Bay Swim training last year are familiar with my blueberry addiction—ahem, nutrition plan. You may also recall that the blueberry nutrition plan lasted long after the swimming had stopped.

Did I mention that I went blueberry picking last weekend?

If I mention that, do I have to tell you how many blueberries I ate on the drive back to Virginia Beach after a three-hour-long stand-up-paddling session Saturday afternoon? Or how many I brought to the beach on Sunday to chow down on after my Bay swim? Or—and this is the worst yet—how many berries made it home from the beach that day?

I’m going to go with “no,” and hope that the image of this shoebox full of plump, delicious blueberries distracts you from all those questions.

We were floating in the middle of the Potomac River on a bunch of stand-up paddleboards when my friend Buck made his sales pitch.

The six of us, all beginner stand-up-paddlers taking Potomac Paddlesports‘ SUP 101 class with my ski-patrol buddy, Buck, an SUP instructor had spent the afternoon propelling ourselves up and down the river, soaking up the almost-summer sun and appreciating the wild, rocky beauty around us. Now, Buck was launching into what he called the “shameless self-promotion” part of the lesson, in which he told the class about memberships with Potomac Paddlesports.

Photo credit: The Washington Post. My friend Buck is the one wearing the cool hat.

He told the class about the Tuesday-night SUP meet-ups, which are followed by pizza and beer. He told them about the community of paddlers, stand-up and otherwise, they were all now a part of. He told them about how he sees himself as an ambassador for the sport, and how every class member is a pioneer of the Potomac simply by practicing it there.

“If I’m selling something out here, it’s the look on my face when I’m doing this,” he said. “I’m selling my stoke.”

I looked around at the other students, all first-time SUP’ers. They were all beaming, looking pretty stoked themselves. I grinned, too, at the beauty of the afternoon, and of the image of all of those students going home to significant others to announce their new obsession, and to let them know not to plan on seeing them for Tuesday-night dinner for a while. I know how they feel—I’ve been anxious to get back on a paddleboard ever since Buck first introduced me to the sport last fall.

It got me thinking about the idea that whether or not we’re officially selling memberships, we’re always serving as unofficial ambassadors of the sports we love, simply by the look on our face when we talk about them, and the stoke that (hopefully) emanates from us when we’re practicing them.

Sometimes, the ambassadorship is explicit, like Buck’s sales pitch, or like the time Steve and I planned a ski trip for our runner-friends, most of whom hadn’t skied before. We obsessed about the details of that first trip, arranging lessons and emailing long “what to pack” lists so everyone was prepared. We loaned out ski pants and helmets to friends in need of gear, and generally tried to make entry into our favorite sports as easy as possible.

Most of the time, our ambassadorship is more oblique. I’m willing to bet the thing that really got our friends excited about skiing was the way we bounced out of bed every morning in our eagerness to hit the slopes, or in the way we couldn’t stop giggling at the end of the day as we recounted tales from the ski day we’d just enjoyed.

Sometimes, being an ambassador means simply practicing your sport, and keeping up your stoke about it. I don’t mean to say that we should be falsely chipper after we have a tough race, or when we’re not feeling so superbly motivated. I just mean that when we’re feeling the love, we should make sure to share it.

How do you serve as an ambassador for the sport you love? Have you helped friends new to running choose running shoes, or new cyclists find a bike that fits them? Paced a friend through his or her first half-marathon?

I didn’t post on Wednesday. Wanna know why?

I was running 7.5 miles instead!

For me, right now, at this moment in time, 7.5 miles is a big deal. It’s the longest I’ve run since the Hot Chocolate 15K back in December, and it represents the first sign of my returning to a slightly more regimented training plan ahead of the Allen Stone Run-Swim-Run July 21 and the Virginia Beach Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon over Labor Day weekend.

Sunday: Open-water swim at Sandy Point State Park.

Monday: Run hills for 45 minutes. Meant to do a long run, but I didn’t get out until the sun was already up, and it was HOT.

Tuesday: Swim 45 minutes. This was another bad, painful swim. My goggles leaked, so I kicked most of the practice. I didn’t leave nearly enough time after lunch before hopping in the pool. But I made it happen, anyway.

Wednesday: 7.5 miles! My decision to hold off for a few days on the long run paid off: The weather cooled down, and it was the perfect day to test my limits.

Thursday: 30 minutes TRX, 3,000 yards swim. This was the first swim in this training cycle that didn’t hurt. By contrast, it felt incredible! I swam 6X500 yards, increasing intensity as I went.

Friday: Easy 30-minute run. Cycling/yoga class for Washingtonian’s Well + Being blog (stay tuned for my writeup next week!).

About a year ago, I swam across the Chesapeake Bay. On Sunday, as a couple hundred people made the same 4.4-mile journey as part of the Great Chesapeake Bay Swim, I swam back and forth across the shoreline at Sandy Point State Park, where the race starts, as a routine open-water swimming workout.

The Chesapeake Bay at Sandy Point State Park, as it appeared on Sunday.

It was my second real swim workout in months. I thought it would hurt as much as or more than my first real swim workout in months, as my triceps and lats and other swimming muscles sprang back to life after a long winter hibernation. Instead, it was like the Bay lent me some special strength, and I easily slipped into the rhythm that carried me through the race last year.

This is one of my favorite parts of distance racing of any sort—the way the race course remains infused with special meaning, even once the aid stations are packed up and the mile markers gone. City streets seem friendlier after you’ve run a marathon across them. In the same way, jumping into the Bay for a swim yesterday felt like greeting an old friend, and reminded me of why I like open-water swimming to begin with. It left me motivated to swim again, even if that means some laps in the pool to help prepare for more open-water fun.

Are there streets, parks or bodies of water that hold special meaning for you because you’ve raced there?

So I swam! For the first time since the start of ski season, I swam a full, 3,000-yard pool workout, not a wussy, ear-protecting kicking workout I did once or twice in May, and not an easy few laps in the Bay in between bouts of sunbathing. And every one of those yards hurt.

Swimming is harder than just about any other activity to get back into after a break. I remember this from swimming in high school, when I’d take summers off (I didn’t have that luxury after sophomore and junior years, but that’s another story), and return to the pool for regular practices in September simply aching from the effort. But I also remember how good it felt to finally get in the groove again, and the promise of a future groove kept me going on Wednesday.

In the spirit of holding myself accountable for actually completing the workouts I intend to complete to prepare for the Allen Stone Run-Swim-Run July 21, the Virginia Beach Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon over Labor Day weekend and the Philadelphia Half-Marathon on Nov. 16, I’m going to post my weekly workouts here on Friday. I’m hoping this will end up being less of a workout log, and more of a story of my week.

Sunday: Morning: Run four hilly miles near Sligo Creek Trail, 9:15-minute-mile average pace. Felt exhausted on hills. Afternoon: Yoga for runners class at Circle Yoga.

Monday: Stationary bike, 30 minutes. Meant to swim in Bay, but thunderstorms prevented this. Legs felt exhausted, anyway, so probably best that I relaxed on the bike, just to get some blood flowing during this active-rest day.

Tuesday: Morning: TRX class. Unusually hard class—kicked my butt! And left me sore for my p.m. group run with Hampton Roads Runners. 4.2 miles. Pace uncertain thanks to accidental Garmin stoppage. Felt tired, but pre-stoppage Garmin checks suggested we went fast.

Wednesday: Swim 3,000 yards at Bayside Recreation Center. Tired. Still sore from TRX class.

Thursday: Morning: TRX. Afternoon: Run 4.5 miles, 9:15-minute mile pace. The warm, lovely sunshine felt hot once I was running on a shadeless road. I had wanted it to be a tempo run, but instead ended up feeling grateful I got out of it alive.

Friday (today): Swim 3,000 yards.

Saturday: Off. Help teach OEC CPR class.

Sunday: Swim! At Sandy Point, with some runner friends. NOT the whole Bay. (Once was probably enough for that).

From the minute I walked into Circle Yoga’s “Yoga for Runners and Cyclists” class last Sunday afternoon, I could tell this wasn’t going to be your standard yoga practice.

Participants chatted and joked as they waited for instructor Mercedes Santos to enter the room—a far cry from the silent meditations that dominate the pre-class space before other yoga classes I’ve taken. There were as many ratty running shorts and race T-shirts as there were fancy Lululemon tops and yoga pants. And although we were in a sun-spattered yoga studio with bright wood floors and a calming vibe, the atmosphere felt more like the start of a friendly group run than the beginning of a yoga class.

Circle Yoga’s yoga class for runners and cyclists focuses on stretches and poses that allow athletes to be aware of possible injury-prone muscles and joints. Photographs courtesy of Circle Yoga.

The idea that runners, cyclists, and other athletes can benefit from practicing yoga isn’t new. Yoga instructors such as Sage Rountree, a marathon runner, triathlete, and frequent contributor to Runner’s World magazine, have long touted the flexibility, alignment, breath control, concentration, and focus athletes can reap from a regular yoga practice. But Sunday was the first time I’d taken a yoga class geared specifically toward runners and cyclists, and I was eager to find out which of those benefits might address the soreness and snap-crackle-poppiness in my legs following a hilly four-miler that morning.

Finish reading this story on Washingtonian Magazine’s Well + Being blog’s website.

In the middle of the Capitol Hill Classic 10K a couple weeks ago, it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually run the full distance of the 6.2 mile race for … well, a while. I say this not to make an excuse for my performance that day, but to highlight the moment when I realized something important: I’ve been setting a lot of training goals without necessarily having a training plan to reach those goals.

It’s not that I’m lazy or unaccustomed to mapping out action plans to help me reach my goals. It’s just that I spent many months—years, even—running the kind of distances that meant I could easily call in a 5K, 10K, or even a half-marathon without specifically training for those distances.

Guess what? I’m not running those distances now, and as I’ve already realized with speed, muscle memory only lasts for so long. And clearly, having a conscious intent to do longer runs does not always translate into actual longer runs. Neither does writing a race on a calendar in pencil, and deciding to “see what happens” in terms of training. So, since I’d like to start running some races (rather than just participating in some races), it’s time to devise, print out and start checking off a formal training plan.

I have four events in mind that I’m going to train for:

• Allen Stone Run-Swim-Run, Virginia Beach, July 21. 1K beach run, 1K ocean swim, 5K boardwalk run.
• Virginia Beach Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon over Labor Day weekend.
• The Philadelphia Half-Marathon on Nov. 16.

How serious am I about training for these? I am actually registered for all of the above races. Like, paid actual money and submitted my name and address and emergency contacts and stuff. And after I did so, I sat down with a pencil, highlighter and two calendars to map out an overall sketch of my training plan for the first two:

I will swim at least 3,000 meters twice a week in the roughly eight weeks leading up to the Run-Swim-Run. Thirty minutes of open-water swimming may be substituted for (and is, in fact, preferable to) 3,000-meter pool workouts.

I will run three times per week, as I have been. But I will make sure that one of those runs is a “long run” of at least six miles, building up to at least 10 before the half-marathon.

I’ll chart all of the above in my training log. I may even post the workouts on here, as I did back when I trained for the Virginia Beach Half Marathon in 2010. Back in 2010, my training log looked like this:

My training log for the week of the Capitol Hill 10K in 2010.

And less like this:

My training log for the week of November 2011, when ski season started. Hard to imagine why my long runs have been inconsistent …

In which cases do you map out a training plan versus letting your pre-existing fitness carry you to the finish line? Do you use any other planning tools to keep yourself honest during training cycles?

A few months ago, I got to interview Eric Orton, who coached “Born to Run” author Christopher McDougall, for a short piece about barefoot running for Executive Travel magazine. Since “Born to Run” basically started the current barefoot running craze, I was interested to hear Orton’s take on how barefoot running should fit into a normal training regimen.

I was pleased to learn that Orton cares more about form than about what kind of shoes you are (or aren’t) wearing, and that he sees barefoot running as a drill that can help improve one’s form—not, as he put it, “as a lifestyle choice.” He never intended for people to run, say, entire marathons on asphalt without shoes.

He also said there are lots of other drills to improve your form besides running barefoot, such as running in place or balancing on one foot.

Have you worked to improve your running form? If so, which strategies did you find most helpful? Was barefoot running, or running in a minimalist shoe, part of your training regimen?

A killer ear infection stymied my efforts to get back in the pool earlier this month. An upside to this: By the time the ear infection abated, the water in the Bay was warm enough to swim there instead.