Warning - possible deciphering of offensive language.
DEDICATED TO ALL ATHLETES WHO ARE OFF THE CARDING LIST THIS YEAR
Once more onto the breach dear friends, once more. The ebs and flows of the track season have come full circle and now, as the weather gets colder and the days shorter, it's the perfect time to start grinding out the old routine because as I stare at my long tights and thermal sweatshirts (from Saucony!) I'm forced to ask myself the same, recycled questions: "How bad to you want it, MacLean?", "Am I really this crazy of a runner?" and "Am I really going to be a broke-ass-bitch chasing her dreams for yet, another year?"
My answer, as always, is: Yep. Yep, another year on the road less traveled. Which, I'll say, has been great. My only complaint is that I wish the person who went out there and recommended the road less traveled even spent a little time commenting on how hard it is to walk down this shitty road because lately I've been doing some serious f-ing bush-whacking! The woods are not lovely dark and deep Mr. Frost, they're thick and hard to get through and you're probably going to get lost so just move on and stop looking at them!
And then a memory came to me today that actually made it all start to feel better.
When I was 5, maybe 7, probably 5 - my mom asked me for the first time what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said, Mom, you know what I've got it, I know what the best job in the world is.... I'm going to be a priest. (?!?!?) (In my defense, people just bring you money every Sunday...it's not rocket science...or science) But Mom, like always, kept me humble and said, oh no sorry honey - only boys can be priests. WTF! Even a kid knows that's discrimination! But me, taking every set back as an opportunity, said well then Mom, I will be the first woman priest!
That I didn't do ... but I did carry my girls can do anything boys can do attitude with me and I'm now an engineer and training to achieve sports' top level.
So I guess, when it comes down to it, I was just born with this never-ending, vaulting ambition to achieve the impossible.
And so my answer, to myself, as to why I'm spending all this time crawling my way down this GD road is - I have no reason but a woman's reason. I said I'm going to do it so I'm going to do it.
A friend and mentor of mine, Charles Scarrow, once told me that when I step out onto that track, be prepared for battle. Charlie... preparation begins.
Always yours,
Leanna - fueled by RIVALUS (http://www.rivalus.net/)
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The Good, The Bad and the Ugly
Winning is fun. Winning IS fun! Sure there are a lot of other reasons I love running - making great friends, seeing the world, working hard to achieve your best - but screw what all those sports psychs say, I like to win.
Unfortunately, I'm not doing a lot of it lately..
For the past couple weeks, and for one month each summer for the past five summers, I've been living in Turnhout, Belgium. Coming to Europe and staying in Turnhout, Belgium is the equivalent of travelling to Canada and staying in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia (for those of you who don't know, my hometown) - it's the most unlikely destination, but you end up loving it just the same. The best thing about Turnhout, and Belgium, is waffels, chocolate, beer, and the little cookie that is always served with your coffee. Ironically, the worst thing for running fast is waffles, chocolate, beer and the little cookie that is always served with your coffee.
Since being here I've raced three times, twice in Belgium and once in England. (FYI - you could create an entire blog about how strange it is that people drive on the wrong side of the road and that when something is expensive, British people call it dear?!?! Does a high price tag really require a term of endearment?) Anyway, I've raced three times and have run the same, stupid time, every time. 2:05 - two seconds off my best and about 5 seconds slower than I wish I was running. Yuck!
In my race last night, the conditions were set up perfect. I was in a fast race, on a fast track and I was feeling fast. So after running 2:05.... again .... I was walking around with that lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe and a couple times, broke into a good old cry. I really just felt devastated. But in sports, I have to say, there is something beautiful in the sadness of a loss. It's hard work that hasn't paid off, but hard work nonetheless. It's hopes and dreams that haven't come true, but hopes and dreams nonetheless. It's putting yourself on the line, giving it your best shot and coming up short, but putting yourself on the line and giving it your best shot nonetheless. That's sports! The good, the bad and the ugly (the ugly being those marathon runners that shit their pants!)
So, in the words of my coach, "At this point in the season, all you can do is rest and prepare for one more." So that's what I'm going to do. One more race to end the summer. Next weekend. In Belgium. And then waffles, chocolate, beer and little cookies with coffee here I come!
Always yours,
Unfortunately, I'm not doing a lot of it lately..
For the past couple weeks, and for one month each summer for the past five summers, I've been living in Turnhout, Belgium. Coming to Europe and staying in Turnhout, Belgium is the equivalent of travelling to Canada and staying in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia (for those of you who don't know, my hometown) - it's the most unlikely destination, but you end up loving it just the same. The best thing about Turnhout, and Belgium, is waffels, chocolate, beer, and the little cookie that is always served with your coffee. Ironically, the worst thing for running fast is waffles, chocolate, beer and the little cookie that is always served with your coffee.
Since being here I've raced three times, twice in Belgium and once in England. (FYI - you could create an entire blog about how strange it is that people drive on the wrong side of the road and that when something is expensive, British people call it dear?!?! Does a high price tag really require a term of endearment?) Anyway, I've raced three times and have run the same, stupid time, every time. 2:05 - two seconds off my best and about 5 seconds slower than I wish I was running. Yuck!
In my race last night, the conditions were set up perfect. I was in a fast race, on a fast track and I was feeling fast. So after running 2:05.... again .... I was walking around with that lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe and a couple times, broke into a good old cry. I really just felt devastated. But in sports, I have to say, there is something beautiful in the sadness of a loss. It's hard work that hasn't paid off, but hard work nonetheless. It's hopes and dreams that haven't come true, but hopes and dreams nonetheless. It's putting yourself on the line, giving it your best shot and coming up short, but putting yourself on the line and giving it your best shot nonetheless. That's sports! The good, the bad and the ugly (the ugly being those marathon runners that shit their pants!)
So, in the words of my coach, "At this point in the season, all you can do is rest and prepare for one more." So that's what I'm going to do. One more race to end the summer. Next weekend. In Belgium. And then waffles, chocolate, beer and little cookies with coffee here I come!
Always yours,
Sunday, July 24, 2011
On your Marks.
If I could blog about anything, I'd blog about fashion. What's hot on the runway? How to accessorize your street wear? But considering the greatest fashion dilemma of my day is what pair of stud earrings best match my running shoes, it's wise I blog about running.
So here I am, over in Italy, avoiding wine and avoiding cheese, and this old man walks up to me "Bonjourno, MacLean!" said in the most brilliant Italian accent. "How is my lovely lady today? You are from Canada! Do you play hockey?..."
The Italian man is a meet director for two top Italian track meets. He's hired me, through the help of my amazing coach and his agent, to set the pace for the women's 800m. As the pacemaker, I'm to get to the front of the pack ASAP and set the pace for the 12 girls running behind me, all who are hoping to run one of the fastest times in the world this year.
My goal is to run through 400m in 57.5 and then if I can, keep going until I fall off pace.
On race day, I'm feeling terrified. I was fresh off the plane from Canada and when the gun went off, I flew off the line, loaded with adrenaline and ran a personal best time through 200m (i.e. not according to plan). I run to 350m, start falling off pace and step off the track before I get to 400m.
So Rewind to the top of my blog, the day after the meet, I run into the race director, he gives me a huge hug, calls me lovely and asks me if I'm ready to run better in the race tomorrow. WHAT?!?! I totally EFF'ed up and he wants me to pace again! The only thing I'm thinking is Thank-God I was so friendly to this man when I first met him.
So there it is: My fashion advice for the day - Stay Friendly, World Wide Web. It looks good on everyone ~
The next day I pace again, I pace the girls through 500m, 5 girls break 2min and everyone PB's. Huge Success.
Although avoiding wine, cheese and too much sunshine has never been the plan for my first trip to Italy - didn't I just perform the most amazing job in the world. Being flown to Italy and put up in an all inclusive hotel for 5 nights to pace world class runners in my favourite track event. The only thing better would be to be paid to actually finish the race!
Next time.
Ciao :)
So here I am, over in Italy, avoiding wine and avoiding cheese, and this old man walks up to me "Bonjourno, MacLean!" said in the most brilliant Italian accent. "How is my lovely lady today? You are from Canada! Do you play hockey?..."
The Italian man is a meet director for two top Italian track meets. He's hired me, through the help of my amazing coach and his agent, to set the pace for the women's 800m. As the pacemaker, I'm to get to the front of the pack ASAP and set the pace for the 12 girls running behind me, all who are hoping to run one of the fastest times in the world this year.
My goal is to run through 400m in 57.5 and then if I can, keep going until I fall off pace.
On race day, I'm feeling terrified. I was fresh off the plane from Canada and when the gun went off, I flew off the line, loaded with adrenaline and ran a personal best time through 200m (i.e. not according to plan). I run to 350m, start falling off pace and step off the track before I get to 400m.
So Rewind to the top of my blog, the day after the meet, I run into the race director, he gives me a huge hug, calls me lovely and asks me if I'm ready to run better in the race tomorrow. WHAT?!?! I totally EFF'ed up and he wants me to pace again! The only thing I'm thinking is Thank-God I was so friendly to this man when I first met him.
So there it is: My fashion advice for the day - Stay Friendly, World Wide Web. It looks good on everyone ~
The next day I pace again, I pace the girls through 500m, 5 girls break 2min and everyone PB's. Huge Success.
Although avoiding wine, cheese and too much sunshine has never been the plan for my first trip to Italy - didn't I just perform the most amazing job in the world. Being flown to Italy and put up in an all inclusive hotel for 5 nights to pace world class runners in my favourite track event. The only thing better would be to be paid to actually finish the race!
Next time.
Ciao :)
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