Amy Reinink

A confession: I have fallen off the wagon in my training for the Hot Chocolate 15K on Dec. 3. I’m still going to run the thing. But I’ve been traveling and sick (yes, sick again—possibly having to do with all that traveling?), and my diminished workout time has been spent working on strength and agility to prep for my ski-patrol training this ski season. Oh—and it’s also been spent doing this:

Two blessed pre-Thanksgiving ski days! How thankful am I?

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving—and best of luck with your turkey trots and/or pie-eating competitions!

Why do we bother running on boring treadmills, swimming in crowded pools and lifting in smelly gyms?

So we can master the trails, cross major bodies of water with the strength of our own arms, or ski all day without stopping.

It only took one turn on my first run last week to remind me why I do so many squats, lunges and balance/agility exercises, and to motivate me to do even more to prep for the ski season once I got back home.

Of course, I didn’t stop after just one run (or just one ski day).

What’s motivating you this week?

In high school, a clerk at a Banana Republic in Shrewsbury, N.J., gave me some of the best life advice I’ve ever received. I had tried on a few skirts, and was wistfully eying one of them, a flowy green corduroy number, as I put it back on the rack, unable to decide whether it was really worth my hard-earned lifeguarding money. “See if you’re still thinking about it tomorrow or the next day,” the clerk advised. “If you are, come back and get it.”

I returned to the store the next day and bought the skirt. It still fits, and is one of my favorite pieces of clothing.

As the 2011-2012 ski season approaches, I’m thinking about that advice, and how it applies to goals. Most of us know better than to chase goals that are meant to impress others rather than fulfill our own true desires—you know, getting a fancy job you don’t like to make money to buy fancy things to impress fancy people you’d actually rather not hang out with. But how often do you stop to differentiate between which goals seem fun and interesting, and which ones play permanent roles in your daydreams? These are the goals that not only offer motivation, but provoke a hunger that won’t go away until the goal is achieved.

For me, this goal is finishing my ski and toboggan training to become a full ski patroller, a goal that most of you are aware I was unable to attain last season thanks to an early-season  ACL tear. Like the green corduroy skirt, I’m still thinking about it. And like the green corduroy skirt, I’m planning to go back and get it.

This week, I’m motivated by the realization that there hasn’t been a single day since last January that I haven’t thought about my desire to be a ski patroller. Heather at Dietitian on the Run shared a cool graphic illustrating that obsession following her smokin’ fast Marine Corps Marathon a couple weeks ago (goal achieved!).

It’s on my mind this week not only because the ski season is almost upon us, but because I spent the weekend at Whitetail for pre-season training—learning new medical protocols, renewing my CPR certification and practicing lift evacuations, as shown in this photo of Steve being lowered from the lift onto the ground.

Last weekend also marked the patrol’s annual award presentation, to include rookie of the year. For the first time, it was awarded to an entire candidate class—ours!

I left Whitetail yesterday evening feeling insanely proud, and like I have more allies than obstacles. I also left feeling a single-mindedness of purpose about where I want to put my energy over the next few months. I have some other secondary goals, including the Hot Chocolate 15K on Dec. 3. But those secondary goals don’t haunt my dreams. My ski-patrol goal does.

I spent the weekend (and the morning) thinking about a mantra Katie at Run This Amazing Day choked out to me during what was a painful, slow, post-injury Earth Day 5K for both of us: Your heart is a weapon the size of your fist. I’m still re-learning how to trust my knee, but the strength of my heart—my strongest weapon—is never in question.

This will be my only post this week, as I’ll actually be spending the rest of the week in Colorado visiting family. You likely won’t be surprised to hear that I’m planning to work in a couple ski days while we’re there. Regular readers know this isn’t my first post-ACL ski trip, as we went to A-Basin on July 4. This trip is just as monumental, though, as it’s the first ski day of the season I know will be the best of my life.

Jubilant after my first post-ACL tear ski trip July 4.

What’s motivating you this week?

I feel compelled to start this post by imploring that you follow what I’ve said, not what I’ve done, kids. I talk a big game about having learned that you don’t gain fitness by bludgeoning your body, but by listening to it, tending to its needs and pushing only when your body’s ready.

On Wednesday, I might’ve bludgeoned a bit.

Here’s how it happened: I was reading a SKI magazine feature about how various trendy workouts benefit skiers, and what the downsides of each workout might be. The section about P90X suggested that it might not be wise to do the 250-squat workout right before a big ski day.

So there I was at the gym on Wednesday, doing my usual 3X25 BOSU squats (basically goblet squats performed while holding a 30-pound kettlebell, standing on top of a BOSU). Halfway through the second set, I thought: Huh. I bet I could do 250 of these. And so I did. Broken up into sets of 25, of course, but 250 nonetheless.

I’m pretty sure I’ll experience the full extent of the soreness later today. I’m also pretty sure no coach in his or her right mind would suggest such a random and giant jump in reps (if you have a coach, go home tonight and hug him or her tight, and be thankful you’re no longer allowed to do stupid stuff like this). But I’m inclined to think that a little bit of bludgeoning is OK every once in a while, and can actually help propel your body toward a fitter, stronger state if you rest properly afterwards (after all, what is a 20-mile run but one great big bludgeon?).

I basically did the workout below, with a few sets of 25 of the aforementioned squats between each exercise. Maybe you’ll want to amend it in a way that lets you walk properly the next day. Or maybe you’ll add to it, making it the weight room version of a 20-mile run, and will do your post-workout waddle with pride.

4X15 leg presses

4X10 single-leg quad extensions

4X10 single-leg hamstring curls

4X10 walking lunges

4X10 stability-ball hamstring curls

3X1-minute plank while balancing on BOSU and a stability ball

Agility exercises

Does an occasional “bludgeon” have a place in a smart workout plan? Weigh in by posting a comment!

Lucky you! You got two extra posts out of me this week, as my appearance on NPR’s Tell Me More to talk about a story I wrote for Washington Post Magazine about the rise of student-entrepreneurship led me to both hype the interview on Tuesday and share the link today.

Me and student-entrepreneur James Li, who, at 20, is totally more articulate than I am.

(You may be thinking: Lucky? Those weren’t extra posts so much as little blasts of self-promotion. Which is pretty much true. But … whatever! I was on NPR!).

Tomorrow, I’ll be back to my regular Monday-Wednesday-Friday posts about running, lifting, swimming, skiing and yoga-ing. In the meantime, do check out the interview—I’d love to hear what you think!

I have a bit of an obsession with winter-squash soup.

By “bit of an obsession,” I mean that for years, I have been chasing the perfect winter-squash soup recipe like a kitchen version of the great white tiger. The hunt began several years ago, when I tasted the perfect butternut squash soup at Bistro 1245 in Gainesville, Fla. It was creamy and smooth and just a little bit sweet, and it was both easy on the stomach and hearty—two essential components of a post-run meal (carb replacement came in the form of crusty bread served on the side).

So I started collecting and sampling recipes to find the perfect one. I never stopped. One of the recipes shown below, from a restaurant called Lucca’s in Chicago, involves not only the usual suspects (garlic or onion, squash or pumpkin, spices), but a chopped ripe banana.

Like I said: It’s an obsession.

Part of me wishes I was posting that perfect recipe here, now. But the other part of me knows that any work of art (which even a bad pumpkin soup usually is) is never truly finished, but simply stops at an interesting point. Here’s my favorite version of winter-squash soup, as it stands right now.

Almost-perfect pumpkin soup

First, roast your squash of choice. I’ve been obsessed with peanut pumpkins lately, so I used one of those for this week’s batch of soup. They’re super-duper sweet, thanks to those barnacle-looking things, which I’m told are actually nodes of sugar.

Roast a few cloves of garlic in a saucepan. Combine the following in the saucepan, once the garlic is nice and brown:

Puree of one large squash

1 can lite coconut milk

1 can vegetable stock (or, to taste—I like a thick soup, so I sometimes like less stock)

1 TBSP red curry powder

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp cinnamon

1 TBSP sweetener (I like honey or Stevia)

Heat, but not to the point of boiling. Eat. If desired, pour into several Tupperware containers to freeze, or to or eat later in the afternoon—ahem, to eat later in the week.

I’ve never tried a variation that didn’t work: Adding some roasted apples or pears, subbing cider for the vegetable stock, adding yogurt at the end to make it extra-creamy. So I’m curious: Do you have a pumpkin soup recipe? What goes into it? Which ingredients are essential, and which are just crazy-talk (besides the banana, of course)?

Yesterday, I mentioned that I’m going to be on NPR’s Tell Me More talking about a story I wrote about the rise of student-entrepreneurship in a poor economy, which ran in Washington Post Magazine last weekend.

This morning, I had SO much fun at the pre-taping, I just had to post the picture I geekily insisted on posing for after the interview:

Me and student-entrepreneur James Li, who, at 20, is totally better-spoken than I am.

I learned a few things at the interview:

1.I would like to make Michel Martin’s studio, which has comfy purple couches and full bookshelves, my office.

2. I am not quite as important as Joe Frazier, whose death bumped the interview from its scheduled run-time today til sometime next week.

3. It’s totally possible to get upstaged by a 20-year-old on national radio (there’s a reason this kid’s business is so successful—he’s good!).

Stay tuned for the new air time so you can hear me run my mouth!

At least I didn’t name this series “Monday Morning Motivation,” right? Thanks for your patience as I plowed through the to-do list items that had to come before this post.

My mea culpa for the late posting is kind of fitting, considering today’s topic—self-compassion.

This may initially seem like kind of an odd topic from someone who frequently writes about the joy of doing workouts that make me want to puke and die (thanks for that phrase, Katie—nothing else says it quite as well). But the more I read about self-compassion—the seemingly contradictory art of making youself stronger not by being harder on yourself, but by being nicer—the more I’m convinced it’s the single best thing a runner, a swimmer, a human, etc., can do for herself and her training.

Consider the intro of a recent New York Times Well blog piece on the subject:

“People who find it easy to be supportive and understanding to others, it turns out, often score surprisingly low on self-compassion tests, berating themselves for perceived failures like being overweight or not exercising.The research suggests that giving ourselves a break and accepting our imperfections may be the first step toward better health.”

Did anyone else cringe in self-recognition upon reading this? We who stand on the sidelines of marathons to cheer for our friends, and who shower those friends with praise and pride no matter what their finish times happen to be, are the same ones who look at our own splits mid-race and think: Ugh. Gotta pick up the pace. What’s that guy looking at? Probably how gross my thighs look in these shorts. Ugh.

The New York Times piece goes on to describe how most people “believe self-criticism is what keeps them in line. Most people have gotten it wrong because our culture says being hard on yourself is the way to be.”

Recognize yourself yet? How about this?

“Imagine your reaction to a child struggling in school or eating too much junk food. Many parents would offer support, like tutoring or making an effort to find healthful foods the child will enjoy. But when adults find themselves in a similar situation — struggling at work, or overeating and gaining weight — many fall into a cycle of self-criticism and negativity. That leaves them feeling even less motivated to change.”

Right. Telling yourself that you’re running too slow and will probably look fat in race photos is a real motivator.

Of course, this self-flagellation usually isn’t a conscious strategy so much as a bad habit we’d be happy to ditch if we were more self-aware. So last weekend, I tried doing just that—being aware of my internal chatter, and applying self-compassion. Here’s how it applied to a slow, sleepy, sore run on Sunday.

The run: 35 minutes in Black Hill Regional Park in northern Montgomery County.

How I felt: Exhausted. Hamstrings inexplicably sore.

What I was tempted to tell myself afterwards: You’re really thinking you can run a 15K in a few weeks? After 35 minutes leaves you rubbing sore spots and yearning for your couch? Gooood luck with that!

What I told myself instead: 35 minutes is way better than nothing! I didn’t plan for this to be a spectacular super-workout, anyway, and it’s not a bad idea to “save” my legs for the long run I do have planned later this week. There are lots of reasons I might be tired—I’ll just forget about it, and focus on my next run.

How I felt after: Super-freaking duper! Free to focus on how beautiful the run by Little Lake Seneca was, and how lucky I was to have two legs to propel me through a sunny forest of golden autumn leaves. Proud that I didn’t give up on a hard run.

Self-compassion helped me appreciate how lucky I was to run by this.

So yeah, it’s pretty effective. Try it yourself next time you feel like your subconscious may be in inner-jerkface mode, and see if you don’t feel more motivated for your next workout.

In other news: Last weekend, a story I wrote about the rise of student-entrepreneurship in a poor economy ran in Washington Post Magazine. Tomorrow, I’m going on NPR’s Tell Me More to talk about it! Tune in or stream it at 2 p.m. to hear me run my mouth.

When we first moved to D.C. in 2008, we were lucky enough to fall in with Pacers Silver Spring’s Fun Run group, which meets at the store at 7 p.m. every Tuesday and Thursday for 5-milers throughout the city.

I’d previously resisted running with a group, but found that it was a great way to meet new people, and to challenge myself by running with people who were faster than me, forcing me to push the pace to keep up. It was great for slower days, too, in that “misery loves company” kind of way.

Post-ACL-tear, I never really got back in the group-run groove. Part of this stems from the discovery that I really benefit from a mid-day break in the form of physical exercise. But I suspect that deep down, it also has a lot to do with ego—seeing the people you used to run with whiz by you can be demoralizing, if you let it be.

Last night, inspired by a few other friends coming back from their own running hiatuses, I did my group run again. And you know what?  It was fine. I settled in with a group of four–some new running buddies, some old—and relaxed into a pace that ended up being about 9:30-minute miles. We did one of my favorite routes, and the miles flew by as I focused on little more than my own footfalls (it’s easier to focus on your own footfalls when someone else is minding the route). The experience reminded me of all the benefits of running in a group—the camaraderie born of shared pain and matching headlamps—and kind of made me forget about the downsides.

Do you run with a group? Why, or why not?

Now that the Marine Corps Marathon 10K is done, I’m fully committed to my next two goals: Training for the Hot Chocolate 15K on Dec. 3 and getting my body as strong as possible for the ski season.

With an eye toward the former goal, I spent some time yesterday making sure my registration ducks were in a row, reserving a parking spot per the annoying email from race organizers (I already paid for the race—how about letting me park for free?), and securing a spot in a seeded corral. As I scanned my race results from the past few years, deciding which one to send in for seeding purposes, I couldn’t help but wonder: When’s the last time I was actually happy with a race time (for running, that is)?

I spotted some races from summer 2010 that seemed fine-ish, like the Clifton Caboose 5K and the Capitol Hill Classic 10K. I had to look back to 2009 to find anything that really sat well with my ego.

But as I perused this year’s races, I spotted a huge victory that had nothing to do with time, or mental toughness, or anything—I’ve stayed healthy all year! This would be notable for any training cycle, but especially for this one, when my new ACL could have easily thrown everything else off, creating interesting new injuries as I screwed up my stride in a crazed grind to JUST KEEP RUNNING. Staying healthy through a comeback is a really tricky thing to do (so much so, I was asked to write a story for Women’s Running titled Tips to a successful running comeback for the January/February 2011 magazine), and I’ve apparently managed to do it.

I’m not fast. I don’t have a ton of endurance. But guess what? I can go run 5 miles whenever I want, because I have not given myself an overuse injury while recovering from a traumatic injury! It seems that at some point, I’ve actually procured some patience and maturity, which are way more useful than a PR.

Remind me about this post in December, K?