The Last Run of 2012

Maybe you ran today. Maybe you ran last week before all the holiday hoopla. Maybe you haven't laced up those running shoes since the cold air came in or since you ran that fall marathon (that's usually when I toss my shoes in the closet and let them collect dust until March). Maybe 2012 wasn't your year to run and you can't wait to get a jump start on 2013. Or maybe you're making that 2013 commitment at tomorrow's New Year's Day 5K or Commitment Day Run. Whatever the case, where was your last run of 2012?

Mine was two days ago. I ran to the post office and back, which can be quite enjoyable when you have the view pictured above and not the stop-and-go I'd get back home in Chicago (thanks crosswalks). And it can also be quite challenging. I'm currently in Colorado, trading my running legs for my skiing ones, where the elevation makes even a 3-mile easy run hurt, mostly in the lungs, and where running layers are thrown out of whack--26 degrees and I'm sweating in my fleece-lined gear. Yeah, I know I should be piling on my running layers and lacing up my shoes one final time today to get in a few last miles before 2012 comes to a close--you know, to make up for all the miles I couldn't run in 2011. But the closest I'm going to get is an indoor workout today followed by tomorrow's Commitment Day 5K--my first run of the new year and my first January 1 run ever. At least I'm starting 2013 on a running foot.

In my defense, I'm usually skiing--family tradition puts me in Utah, skiing at Alta's torchlight parade every New Year's Eve. This year, I may not have made it to Alta, but Colorado's just as good when it comes to hitting the slopes (unless all the storms land in Utah and they've dried up by the time they pass over Colorado). I skied yesterday to the point of extreme quad burn and my 5K "recovery" will be another ski day.

OK, your turn. Where was your last run of 2012? Where will you be running in 2013?

Note: A version of this post also appeared at ffcheer.posterous.com.

Shop Small, Shop Local, Shop Small Business Saturday

I didn't wait in any Black Friday lines. I didn't score any Black Friday shopping deals. And this year I didn't even push my way through the crowds at the Christkindlmarket in Daley Plaza. 

I slept in. I worked out. And I learned that the best Black Friday deals I'd want to score happen on the fitness front--unless I was glued to my smartphone while braving the mall. Life Time Fitness had a membership deal that comped the joining fees--so did the YMCA (the Colorado Springs branches). Real Ryder Revolution warned to watch for package bargains on Black Friday. Train Chicago Studios held a free four-hour--or two-hour if you couldn't cut four hours in the saddle--Computrainer bike ride on the Ironman Canada course. Shred415 offered discounts on its packages and retail, and Urban Athlete featured a $35 per month membership steal. Now those are my kind of deals.

But I'm saving my shopping bucks for Small Business Saturday. Here's why I'm a fan...

• I need running socks. I mud-ified my new Balega socks on a trail run (should have occurred to me to wear the older pair with the holes in them since trails have mud) and desperately want a replacement. Plus we all know socks make good stocking stuffers for the runners on your gift list, and you're not going to find the blister-free variety at the department stores. Or at least I haven't yet.
• I'd rather avoid the Mag Mile crowds. Fleet Feet is less than a half mile from where I live and I can just as easily ride my bike to Universal Sole (as long as it's not freezing). So whether I ride my bike or I walk, I can get there faster than I can get to the big stores along Michigan Avenue or State Street. Besides, do I really want sweaters, fancy shoes, and fine china? Not really...my eyes are on running gear this season. And with Chicago being such a big, spread-out city, surely there's a store you fancy not too far from your front door.

The Tank That Keeps You Cool

I’ve been dreading today’s high temperature since I saw the forecast Monday morning. Cracking 100 and it’s only early July? I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m actually missing the summer where I whined about wearing fleece.

It doesn’t matter if the temperature breaks 100 or it hovers between 80 and 90, when it’s hot and humid, my runs suffer. I’m hot from the get-go—and that’s true if it’s a race (ahem like the unseasonably hot Chicago Marathons we’ve had recently) or a training run on the lakefront. I can’t stay cool to save my run and I’m so drenched by the time I return home you’d think I walked into Lake Michigan with my clothes on.

But lately I’ve had some help from Pearl Izumi in the keep-cool department. I’ve been sporting the company’s In-R-Cool tank since we first started seeing temperatures in the 80s back in March (and to think I’d welcome a week of that weather right about now). Designed with technology that’s aimed to cool you down more than heat you up, even after you’ve been pavement pounding when the sun is scorching, and fabric that would cool your skin while managing moisture, I figured it’d be my best heat defense, especially in March when I wasn’t even close to accustomed to the warmer weather. But the big question was: would it really work?

My answer: yes. This tank wicks the sweat away from my body, it’ll be drenched but I won’t be. And it’s been acting like that since I first wore it almost four months ago. It has managed to keep me cool—and not just because it’s sleeveless, armed with a white back panel, and incredibly lightweight. I swear it’s that special fabric, which amazingly hasn’t succumbed to my stinky sweat yet. I ran without it on yesterday’s scorcher of the 4th of July—I swear it felt like it was 100 degrees at 8 a.m.—only because I couldn’t find it in my laundry heap. When I went with an old standby, I seriously thought I was melting. Rumor has it that it’s only going to get hotter so I’m hoping that my husband accidentally picked it up in his laundry and I’ll have it for my next run. How could I grow so attached to one tank, I don’t know, but I did.

The funny thing is that until recently, I’d never think of Pearl Izumi has having running gear that I’d like. I’m armed with an arsenal of cycling stuff from arm and toe warmers to jerseys and jackets, and always associated the company with cycling and triathlon. That was a big mistake on my part. Because not only do I miss this tank on hot summer days when I’m not wearing it, but I can’t get through a treadmill workout without wearing the Streak II shoes. It could all be mental—or it’s that the minimal design actually works for my foot more than I thought it would. Whatever the case, I’ll take it.

And to Pearl Izumi: now I know not to skip straight to the cycling gear on my next shopping trip.

What are you wearing to keep cool on your summer runs?

Racing in Ravenswood

Gotta love a neighborhood run! Photo: Angelica Guerrero

It only took me 11 years of running in Chicago to finally run Fleet Feet's Ravenswood Run, a 5K that turned 16 on April 29. I've read about it since I started picking up the local active lifestyle publications at the Northwestern gym. I've known about it--and written about it on at least one occasion--since I was an intern at Windy City Sports. And I've had invites to run it plenty of times.

But those invites were always followed with the obligatory excuses for why I couldn't participate. In college, it was minimal transportation options and a lack of runner friends (I had to beg my cousin to drive me and also run the Lakefront 10). Then I thought it would take forever to drive to, having to search for a parking spot on top of that (when you live in Lakeview and constantly struggle to find a street spot especially on a Saturday night, you dread driving anywhere). I was running another race like the Lakefront 10, often held the same day. I was recovering from Boston--or sidelined after Boston as was the case last year. What it all boils down to is a list of stupid reasons to skip a race...really stupid reasons. I can register for the marathon again and again, yet I can name excuse after excuse for why I can't make it to a 5K which is shorter, easier and usually more fun. I'll never do that to the Ravenswood Run again.

I-Spy: 11 Items Seen While Running in Vail, Colorado

Do you remember playing I-Spy when you were a kid? I can't say that I do, but it seemed an appropriate way to categorize the items that I omitted from yesterday's slideshow about my Vail run. Seeing landscapes is one thing, but spotting objects is another, and with the photos already being numerous (I had more than 40 that I would have wanted to use), it only made sense to post again.

I used my run through Vail as an excuse to take pictures of anything and everything I spotted from point A to point B. Partly because my lungs begged for the break and partly because I saw things that I've passed on more than one occasion but couldn't remember actually having a photo of the memory. So in I-Spy fashion, here are 10 things I eyed while running along the Gore Valley Trail and through Vail.

1. I spy...a concert in Lionshead. If you need more reason to ski in the springs besides the snow, let it be the concerts. Vail has them every Thursday starting in March. Plus if you're just running through like I was, you might get lucky and score some Honey Milk, Vita-Coco coconut water, or Burt's Bees products. All three had tents set up near the concert stage and they were more than willing to hand me samples--for the girl who forgot hydration (really bad considering it's even more important to have on hand at altitude) this couldn't be more perfect for refueling.

A Creek Runs Through It: Vail, Colorado

I tend to get carried away when it comes to sports, especially running, triathlon and skiing. I ran a marathon before I ever ran a half marathon (probably the dumbest yet smartest decision I ever made since I'm still hooked a dozen years later). I thought I'd be done after one Ironman--that whole cross it off the list of random ideas I created for myself when I was 21 and sitting at the intern desk of an active lifestyle publication--and then all the training and racing for Olympic, and half and full Ironman distance triathlons never stopped. I ski lift open to lift close, racing to ride one more time at the end of the day--though I blame that as much on my husband as myself since he acts, and nearly looks, like a five-year-old ready to open presents on Christmas morning when he gets to ski country.

So I'm not even remotely surprised that I'd "over document" a run, taking too many pictures when exploring a path that I had driven past a million times but never run. I’m no stranger in a strange land, though it might seem that way since I’m not running along the Lakefront, there are no towering skyscrapers in sight, and my breath is labored from the altitude (or so I’d like to believe). I’m in Vail, Colorado, a spot I’ve been to several times over the years except it’s always to ski and not to run. In fact, my running shoes usually never make it into my suitcase because I know I’ll be skiing and good luck finding a fitness center at your lodging location (they do exist, just not always at places I’ve stayed). But a dwindling snow base and steady spring-like temperatures called me to bring my sneaks this time around, figuring that if I couldn’t ski, at least I could run, as painful as it might be as my body acclimates to the higher elevation.

Coming to Grips with Winter Running

In or out? Treadmill or track? Shorts and a T-shirt, or your best assortment of winter layers? If you're going to run in the winter, where do you opt to get 'er done?

This winter might be the exception to the rule--I know I'm breaking my running habit left and right, shocking myself every time in the process. I don't run in winter. I don't race in winter. I'm lucky if I even look at my running shoes in winter. If those three assertions aren't enough to spell out my disdain for winter running under normal circumstances, that is, when the wind is whipping off the lake and the temperatures feel even colder than they actually are and we're buried under snow (that's my definition of winter Chicago normal), then I'll say it again: I'm not a winter runner.

Make Me Some Magic Legs: CW-X Stabilyx Tights

When running gear gets too technical, I tend to bow out. Sure I'll lust over it, but the chances of it finding its way into my closet is slim. First, and probably foremost thanks to my budget biding, the price tag scares me off. Can you blame me for passing up $90 spandex when I can find something similar for half the price? Then I question how effective said product really is. Do I truly need all those bells and whistles especially when I can dig through my drawers at home, double up on a layer or two--yes, I'm the one who completely overdressed for a 25-degree day run and was soaking wet upon my return, not from falling in the snow--and gain the same benefit? Give me a good pair of shoes and a sports bra and I’m set. I'll piece together the rest: $1 stretchy gloves, a fleece headband I've had since I was 12, the $5 fleece-lined jacket I bought so as not to ruin my favorite, more pricey number. Except after trying the CW-X Stabilyx tights, and their gift of magic legs as I like to call them, I’m eating my words in the gear department. If you can put a price on super powers, here's a case where you can't object to the price and you'd be remiss to pass up the targeted support component.

Magic legs? Stability that starts in the core and works all the way down my calves to keep my muscles in go mode without weakening beneath my flimsy ankles and injury-prone tibias? You can’t compromise that. In November, I ran five miles at a speed I couldn’t match three months prior (when my darn injury finally let me hit the roads again). Last week, I ran intervals until my legs should have fallen off. Yet they didn’t and I’m no worse for the wear. Nope. It's like the ankle brace I'm tempted to wear when my shins ache as I pad around the house masks itself in the tights and holds everything in place when I run. Even while sitting at my desk in my tights--like when yesterday's run ran afoul and landed on the treadmill instead of the trail--I feel locked and loaded. Must be that "harnessing of the midsection" that my mind is embracing. My muscles are digging the compression even though the performance benefits might be minimal—it’s all about psychological wellbeing here, no "glowing review" to appease the peanut gallery from this wear-tester. And when the weather turns cold, I need those magic legs and the running-on-air sensation for as long as I can get--even when I feel like a stuffed sausage. Nah, I'll take the sausage casing look if it makes me faster.


Note: a version of this appeared in a compilation at ffcheer.posterous.com.

What to Love About the Craft PXC Storm Tight

Sometimes blogging just doesn’t go your way. It’s kind of like running when you have a race outcome that you’re not completely satisfied with. You wish you could remember where you went wrong, you wish you could remember the good parts instead of all the bad parts, you wish you could banish the negative energy.

Now transfer those thoughts over to writing and you’ll find my current position. I’m sitting in front of my computer, trying to recount the phrases that ran through my head during last night’s Spinning workout. There’s something about me and biking—and Thursday night, only Thursday—that revs the creative juices in my brain, giving me oodles (yes, oodles) of thoughts to run back home and jot down. Except last night I needed secret powers or magnetic energy, anything, to transfer my thoughts to paper before class ended. By the time I got off the bike, all the phrases I tried so hard to remember as I pedaled through climbs, headwinds and sprints weren’t coming together as well as they had during the sweat session. I can remember keywords like REI fleece pants, snowshoeing, slipping on ice and doubling up, but ask me to connect them all together in carefully crafted prose and I’m stuck in my tracks.

You see, all of those phrases are supposed to explain my affinity for the Craft running pants I modeled at the Fleet Feet Fashion Show last month. I’m practically as clueless as you, reading this for the first time, figuring out how I meshed them together in a cohesive, rational thought, which I swear I did but needed a notebook next to the bike so I could hop off and jot it down. Let this serve as a long-winded introduction to the Craft tights pictured above.

And now onto the review.

The Daily Feed: Sites We're Surfing 10/24

Long weekend away from the computer? That's my excuse for some intense screen time this Monday. I know I should be pounding away at the emails in my inbox (sorry, people who I owe a reply) or writing up a storm (ahem, race reports that are long overdue), but instead what am I doing? Reading and tiring my eyes at the sight on online text. But hey, at least it's informative and/or insightful. Right?

• Here's the skinny on a new company making yoga tees from sustainable materials from After5Detroit.com. Cool factor: this might just be my one and only chance--beside the Motor City Triathlon and the Detroit Marathon--where I show a little Detroit pride. The founder hails from the "Mitten" and took over my editing duties at our high school's newspaper (if memory serves me correct) when I graduated.
• It almost wouldn't be a feed without something on one of our faves, Kara Goucher. And no, it's not the news bit that shocked me: leaving coach Alberto Salazar. It's Goucher's explanation for why she left Alberto Salazar and the Oregon Project.

Chicago Marathon 2011: 13 Days and Counting

The countdown to the Bank of America Chicago Marathon suddenly became more real. I'm running, or I'm supposed to be running, 26.2 miles in 13 days. Where did the time go?

I look at the marathon’s website on a semi-regular basis—I almost have to, or find myself doing so, as a part of my day job—and I know plenty of people, me included, who’ve been set on running it since February. I’ve written tons of marathon content (plug: you can soon check it all out at Time Out Chicago’s website, Chicago Athlete and the official marathon program), talked to enough awesome sources and attended an array of events, with more yet to come. But I didn’t bat an eye once the Chicago Triathlon passed and I knew it was time to focus on running and long mileage. And it didn’t phase me until days before that I’d be missing the 20-miler weekend thanks to a wedding, nor did I fret about not doing in the cold and rain and undesirable running weather that hovered over D.C. when I could have laced up my shoes.

Yet this whole less-than-two-weeks-and-counting thing really hit, and hard, this weekend. Was it the table conversation about the marathon Saturday afternoon? Definitely. How about the advance screening of the official marathon gear, available at Fleet Feet and Niketown? Absolutely. Or did the Breaking Through the Wall seminar, which I virtually attended for the first time via live streaming on my computer, have something to do with it? No doubt, as I heard mistakes I’ve made a million times before, tips that I knew would have been good to hear years ago when I started this whole marathon running thing, and answers to questions that I’ve been too afraid to ask at more than one point in training and racing.

Gotta love the heather blue!

As for a visual, check out the above display of the 2011 Chicago Marathon gear. If it hasn’t hit you yet that you’re running 26.2 miles in less than two weeks—and by the time you read this, you’ll likely be too sore to stray too far from your most comfy piece of furniture—maybe the gear will get you as it did me. And if not, consider it your excuse to go shopping for a new running outfit that you can break in now for race day (even if it is taboo to wear race wear from said race) or save for later to subtly brag about your accomplishment. I did (thank you, Fleet Feet), though I might be jinxing myself if I wear my newest Nike pullover out and about before the race.

Surely I’m not the only one thinking like this, am I? Are you getting nervous, anxious, excited for the aptly nicknamed #cm11 or whatever else it’s being called these days?

Note: a version of this story originally appeared at FFCheer.

My Running Story

My favorite running picture

Are you getting out and running in honor of National Running Day? I know I'll sound like a broken record once again, but I wish I could. But since I'm still waiting for this darn stress fracture to heal, I figured I'd do the next best thing: share my running story. I've provided plenty of snippets here and there at Fit-Ink, from race reports to random training stories, but did I ever say how I got started in the sport? I didn't think so. So at the risk, er full knowledge, of sounding like a weird, crazy fitness nut even more so than I'd like to think I project at Fit-Ink, here it goes.

I know I'm weird and crazy when it comes to exercising and running. I embrace it some moments (like admitting that I probably would live at the gym or out on the Lakefront Path if I didn't have to work)  and deny it in others. But this time I'm going to open up and not be shy about it.

I’ve run a marathon with improper training—I didn’t know it at the time because I was 20, running stupid and thinking I was invincible. Yeah, four-hour bike rides don’t substitute for long runs—and neither do the shoes purchased from DSW because of their color and price tag and not their fit and feel. I've joked many a time that I could write the book on how not to run a marathon because I've run it wrong at least as many, if not more, times than I've run it right.

I’ve gone running at 1:30 in the morning when most of the world is asleep. Not once, but twice—and I enjoyed myself both times.

I’m a creature of habit and have run the Chicago Marathon for the last 11 years, and this October will mark No. 12. I’m not going for any records but my own: keep running the marathon until I don’t live in Chicago anymore. Or at least that was my latest justification for why I’ve continued to sign up—after surpassing 10 Chicagos in a row and then running on 10-10-10.

I’ve run a relay with 11 near-strangers, one of whom was Bart Yasso. That is, before we spent 30-plus hours together in a van. You can’t call yourselves strangers after traveling 200 miles in two days from Madison to Chicago by way of Milwaukee. In fact, that's how Liz and I met—it’s amazing what you can talk about and learn on these adventures. And well, we must have liked each other if we were still talking enough to plan training rides on the Lakefront for the rest of that summer.

I will run even when I shouldn’t. Basically I’m in denial about injury and would like to think that the exercise would help, not hurt, it. As a result I’d walk the remainder of a race—Rock ‘n’ Roll Virginia Beach and Boston Marathon, you know I’m talking to you—than bow out. Case in point: the stress fracture in my tibia that I’m supposed to be recovering from (i.e. no running, boo!) and whine about often. If you see me at a fun run decked out in my running gear, kindly remind me to stay on the sidelines until further notice.

I have more running shoes and workout gear than I know what to do with--and more running shoes than dress-up shoes. Call me a hoarder, label me a pack rat, but I still have my first marathon shoes along with some later editions. Some I don't want to part with but others I've given alternate uses at the gym, riding my bike on the Lakefront Path or reserving for a painting project that's never going to happen--I know I really should just donate them to the bins that beg for shoe donations at my local running store. As for race shirts? I've reserved some tees to be sewn into a quilt, but that action didn't even come close to freeing up T-shirt space. See what I mean about collecting?

There’s probably more to my story than that--in fact, I know there is--but it’s all I can come up with for now. Besides, if I confessed my entire running story right now, there would be nothing to read later. And who would want that? But one more confession before I go that's only mildly related: You could call me a foodie with a running problem. I got into journalism because I wanted to be a food critic. Guess I went wrong somewhere along the line and I embraced the active life over the culinary one. But I wouldn’t trade it for a second.

Note: a version of this story originally appeared at FFCheer.

Beating Cheer Fear

Lately I’ve found myself in a spot that’s typically reserved for my parents when they watch me run marathons and do Ironmans: the sidelines. I’m still injured and recovering and while I’m trying not to let it get the best of me (I had a near melt-down yesterday but can’t explain why), I’m still showing up at the races. Except instead of having the goal of finishing said race, I’m there to cheer and fulfill my duties for FFCheer while my teammates are out running. The name alone, FFCheer, connotes cheering and lots of it, but I realized yesterday that I’m really bad at cheering. And I mean really bad. Before I thought it was because I was too busy racing—eye on the prize, head down, barreling toward the finish line in hopes of reaching whatever goal was lingering in the back of my head for the day. You don’t really cheer for your competitors, especially when they’re passing you or you’re passing them. At least I don’t. I feel like I’m being taunted by a five-year-old sticking her tongue out, waving her hands and saying, “Nanny-nanny boo-boo, you can’t catch me.”

With this extended time on the sidelines, I’m noticing that I don’t say anything when I’m watching the runners go by. Nothing. Dead air. Crickets. I’ll snap tons of pictures, but I can’t seem to utter a word out of my mouth, nor do I whistle or clap.

Reflecting back on other experiences, it occurred to me that this is nothing new. I did it more than five years ago when my friend was running her first Army 10-Miler and I tried registering too late to gain an entry—I stood outside the Smithsonian, never saw her run by, but never cheered for the runners that did pass. I did it at Ironman Wisconsin when the runners battled through the heat and the mental challenge of being 26.2 miles away from a 140.6-mile goal. I did it a few weeks ago at the Ravenswood Run. And I did it again at the Soldier Field 10. Yes, I was the girl in all black standing along the road about a half-mile from the finish (or so the race announcer said), likely with a scowl on her face. The scowl wasn’t on purpose, it’s just the look I lapse into when I’m deep in thought or watching intensely. I swear.

But I think it’s far from inviting to a racer. Correct me if I’m wrong but who’d really want to see a spectator just standing on the sidelines, especially when you needed a little kick to the finish and your power song wasn’t cutting it? The only problem is I don’t know what to shout or what runners want to hear. Yay, runners! Keep it up! You’re almost finished! Less than a mile to go! I never liked it when I heard the shouts of being five miles from beer along the Chicago Marathon course, partially because my stomach can’t tolerate beer after a race and partially because they underestimated the mileage, the toughest mileage, we had left to encounter on the course. But maybe I should have gone with the obvious and read the names on the bibs and shouted, “Go so-and-so,” as they ran by. The only problem with that is I would have yelled, “Go Jeff!” to a girl. Oops.

What cheers do you want to hear from the spectators when you’re in the final mile of the race? I’m all for suggestions, I could use them for next time because I’ll still be on the sidelines (my tip: try as hard as you can to avoid injury cause when it happens it more than messes with your race schedule and fun running). And I’m tired—and embarrassed—to be a silent spectator. 

Photo grabbed from prc1333 at flickr. 

The Saucony Shoe That Started a Conversation

I am addicted to minimalist shoes. Not the hard core ones like Vibram's Five Fingers because the pair of those that I own are more for protecting my feet from rocks when I'm near water. Instead it's the two pairs that are minimal but still oddly supportive that I've been lucky enough to have find their way into my possession in the last month.

Their names? The Nike Free Run+ 2, which have been my walking saviors for the last month when I started feeling the aches of my oncoming injury, and the Saucony ProGrid Kinvara 2, which I only started sporting a week ago. Now I alternate wearing each--gotta share the love--usually opting to wear the Frees when the weather looks iffy and the Kinvaras when the sun is shining. Yes, call me a shoe dork, but I will prolong the white shoe look for as long as possible if I can help it, and the Free gray is better at absorbing the dirt--I know because I already dropped something on them and I can barely see the mark. 

Their results? I'll be wearing these pairs until they wear out. They look cool, they weigh practically nothing and they squeeze really easily into a bag. They also make me feel like I'm padding around in my bare feet, but I can head outside and maintain some semblance of normalcy in my injured state.  

But here's the kicker on the Kinvaras, all whites aside: They apparently are pretty eye-catching, enough to start a conversation with a complete stranger. By Thursday, not even a week since I brought them home from Fleet Feet, I had already received three compliments on the shoes, the latest coming at the grocery store of all places. I could have been wearing a new pair of Uggs or some flashy Jimmy Choos that everyone wanted to have. But, no, I was wearing running shoes, and couldn't even brag about the run I took on one of the nicest days Chicago had seen all year. I guess the Kinvara is the equivalent among the running set?

That was news to me. But I'll take it if it means I can talk running when I can't even run, or finally feel  comfort in a pair of shoes that don't have a swoosh on the side, or think I'm wearing "magic shoes" that are going to make my stress fracture disappear and return me to the roads faster because I see improvement in my walk every day.

The roads better watch out for my return, that's all I'm saying. If I can like these two minimal shoes without using them for their main purpose--my current highlights include pairing them with jeans and yoga pants--then what's going to happen when I ease back into running and try them on the grass and then the pavement? I'm hoping for magic, but right now I'll even take a simple sweat session that doesn't involve a stationary bike.

To read more about the Saucony Kinvara, check out my take for FFCheer.

Fit-Ink, Meet FFCheer

Remember how excited I was to spread the Luna Love last spring? Probably not, because shortly after sharing my elation, the local Luna group was stopped dead in its tracks. I'm not here to gripe and whine about the long lost Luna Chix I was supposed to be a part of last year instead of the Lone Luna I actually was--I'm not going to even try to explain.

So Fit-Ink (that means you, dear readers), I want you to meet FFCheer. Call it my 2011 obsession, this is one running team that's going to exceed my expectations. I've applied and been accepted to teams that either disbanded before my eyes or were national, which really meant a lot of me doing my normal Chicago activities and then reporting back to the group. But when I read about FFCheer, before it had an official name and was simply called Fleet Feet's Cheer Team, I was immediately intrigued. On screen it sounded similar to the other teams but the first group meeting proved otherwise. And that's a good thing.

If I wanted running buddies, I found them. If I wanted to learn more about a race, I had advisers. If I wanted to hear about first-time race experiences and personal bests, I could. If I wanted to know more than two people (as I did at three Fleet Feet/Nike hosted fun runs I attended in the last year), I would. If I wanted injury recovery stories and encouragement--and get talked out of the things I'd likely attempt when I knew I should be taking it slow--I got them.

Yes, this is a shameless plug for my new running team, but it's because it's more than being about the racing. I didn't know it until recently, but Fleet Feet promotes a statement that all of us who are part of FFCheer stand for: running changes everything. As the phrase implies, running's not just about racing, besting your time on the clock and logging miles. It's finally starting to click in, or maybe I just forgot after countless races in the last decade (more if you count the 5Ks I ran before I started marathoning), that running's almost more about the social aspect and interaction. FFCheer will remind me, and likely make me better at it, too, from the roads all the way back to my computer.

So if you see me write #ffcheer on Twitter or if you stumble upon ffcheer.posterous.com, this is my explanation. Still confused? Click here to read more. Oh, and see that funky graphic next to #ffcheer in the photo? Give your best guess as to what it might be--it's emblazoned on the tees and hoodies we've sported since the Ravenswood Run on May 1. I don't know either, but your guess could help you (or me, depending on the details) win a TBD contest down the road.