tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59894344565673112012024-03-12T18:49:20.055-05:00tracey's spaceA space for random things.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.comBlogger873125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-39213053017050330312018-01-02T16:26:00.000-06:002018-01-02T16:40:43.731-06:00Missing My Friend.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been a kitty mama for 20 years. I've spent more time with my cats than I have with most people. Spike was one of three cats we have cared for and the one who was lucky to live the longest. To say things feel wrong without my sweet little buddy would be the under-est of understatements. I know it was time for him to go but even though it feels like we were preparing for this for a while, I'm still left with a big gaping empty. It's not that I wanted him to keep on living the way he was, I'm just sad for the good times we can't have back.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg24A1EtzVjHH2V94lA2YAWEd5e1hOXe6qktP6-F68mroEX0oZibCdRxYFN1PykCITqCNMEP9uj3nizaePT0G4tF-HXWKGH9o9pjUsefqo2cD7MAq5oy7VkI1LDKmbxma6ujc5TfMELRxN/s1600/spike01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg24A1EtzVjHH2V94lA2YAWEd5e1hOXe6qktP6-F68mroEX0oZibCdRxYFN1PykCITqCNMEP9uj3nizaePT0G4tF-HXWKGH9o9pjUsefqo2cD7MAq5oy7VkI1LDKmbxma6ujc5TfMELRxN/s400/spike01.jpg" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spike, 1997-2017</td></tr>
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Our cats had very different personalities. The stereotype about cats is that they are aloof and while sometimes that can be true, if you're around them a lot you'll find they all have their own individual quirks. Our first cat <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2015/02/sail-on.html">Sailor </a>(also known as Po) was definitely "king." He was the alpha-cat in charge and he knew it. <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2010/09/change-is-hard.html">Lulu</a>, the youngest and smallest was of course the baby. She was an oddball who liked us enough but really loved her brothers above all humans.<br />
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Then there was Spike. Spike the gentleman. Spike the protector. My little shadow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjppiGPpQjYQo15uwtnAKUN3RVma7B2cgy-jbj2qyDTv-DDnDulDJlD3RSh5LzDqIa4ix97aGqhfCS_B6VcDhBp1-faM0oG4Y-BfcV0p-DIononev_SytBWkl67j4GFn1ftEhXeDUjSz_G/s1600/spike08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1293" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjppiGPpQjYQo15uwtnAKUN3RVma7B2cgy-jbj2qyDTv-DDnDulDJlD3RSh5LzDqIa4ix97aGqhfCS_B6VcDhBp1-faM0oG4Y-BfcV0p-DIononev_SytBWkl67j4GFn1ftEhXeDUjSz_G/s320/spike08.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hi.</td></tr>
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We didn't intend to get more than one cat but after having Po for a few months I knew I wanted him to have a friend. I remember stopping into the local pet shop by our apartment a little after Christmas in 1997 and saw they had a new litter of kittens just a few weeks old. One in particular jumped out at me but I needed to convince Jason it was a good idea first. After a couple of weeks he caved and we went in to get the kitten but when we arrived someone else was there getting ready to buy the one I had my eye on. Turning back to the other kittens in the litter I saw one hanging back from the others not drawing a lot of attention to himself. He had a sweet looking face and little white tip at the end of his black tail. How could I have ever wanted any cat other than this one? He was obviously perfect and we brought him home with us that day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_miNmSBMV45gzuQktxVX2YUlM6bkjAHK87PsSo10g436lrVFx0CuwG3VKmECU1dZX3dDBUuDVlWKOgiOierBARbctmF27EtRVZeK2nFG_ru9BjxwWzclEafmQYPSWp8bb33hXTDq_d0j/s1600/babyspike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1382" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_miNmSBMV45gzuQktxVX2YUlM6bkjAHK87PsSo10g436lrVFx0CuwG3VKmECU1dZX3dDBUuDVlWKOgiOierBARbctmF27EtRVZeK2nFG_ru9BjxwWzclEafmQYPSWp8bb33hXTDq_d0j/s320/babyspike.jpg" width="276" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz9ho-XnezZS8r25JquSCou_yw74P3dpr9WeAIoI1qkobVsLMM1odjRZIcDi5Q-m4iLvski7BMdADbFMixeRGulENfo0eDFLTwq4yZZ2KBtB5fwwH82nnQSbRp2-hu0AagmMamVK5DhsF-/s1600/kittens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1354" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz9ho-XnezZS8r25JquSCou_yw74P3dpr9WeAIoI1qkobVsLMM1odjRZIcDi5Q-m4iLvski7BMdADbFMixeRGulENfo0eDFLTwq4yZZ2KBtB5fwwH82nnQSbRp2-hu0AagmMamVK5DhsF-/s320/kittens.jpg" title="" width="270" /></a></div>
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We named him Spike-- partly after the character from Buffy the Vampire Slayer but also because he was a tough little guy who held his own against a not very happy Po when we first introduced them. After a few days he settled in though and they were good buddies together for many many years. The two of them used to sun themselves in the windowsill of our apartment in Chicago where I would always hear people walking by and saying hello to them. With the addition of Lulu a year later our little kitty family was complete.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailor, Lulu, Spike. Fall 1999.</td></tr>
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As he grew, Spike latched on to me and loved me like no other cat I've ever had. If I was at home he would follow me around all day. He always wanted to be near me, watching me, talking to me. He even slept on my pillow every night right up by my head, purring into my ear. You would see him light up with excitement when he could see I was getting ready for bed. As he got older he spent less time following me around but he always found me on my pillow the end of the day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5q19mwX2Q1QwhHuHQEZrFDOY2vXKqYSLLBghmvrQTz3qm0G4Bnr29L_NNYDaCpFgSLNVZneyDc4B0k8NTXKG7ovzQxf5pYDI_faUJjTO4iDADP0onK2JklYPJRRPqixv6t853PQ7Dstu/s1600/spike09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="561" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5q19mwX2Q1QwhHuHQEZrFDOY2vXKqYSLLBghmvrQTz3qm0G4Bnr29L_NNYDaCpFgSLNVZneyDc4B0k8NTXKG7ovzQxf5pYDI_faUJjTO4iDADP0onK2JklYPJRRPqixv6t853PQ7Dstu/s400/spike09.jpg" width="397" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every night.</td></tr>
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Like most cats, he loved soaking up the sunshine. He especially loved the new balcony we built a couple of years ago and every winter he spent most of the day lounging on one of the radiators. I always said Spike on the radiator in October was the one true harbinger of winter. In his final year we believe he may have been experiencing some dementia as he would often leave a room and then start meowing and howling like he couldn't find us. Jason, the kids and I would always howl back so he could remember where we were. When we would come home after being away a while he would "talk" nonstop to me for what seemed like hours. I hated leaving him alone for a longer stretch of time this past year but loved how hearing how happy he was when we would return. The house feels so quiet when I open the door now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilV2GYbuVu09x_Zl_9McbLuuzSUj4v2WBIo4gV75bcr4suaQ8o9W56IZvH0d8WYEkuoDCfBiqi0QeigLxk2BUnUaeYNyJQ6KK_rI_O3zcJk-cw-8eE-jksYMl96Ofgrmt6HfQ8nVKLWLkf/s1600/spike03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1189" data-original-width="1163" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilV2GYbuVu09x_Zl_9McbLuuzSUj4v2WBIo4gV75bcr4suaQ8o9W56IZvH0d8WYEkuoDCfBiqi0QeigLxk2BUnUaeYNyJQ6KK_rI_O3zcJk-cw-8eE-jksYMl96Ofgrmt6HfQ8nVKLWLkf/s400/spike03.png" width="391" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making sure I don't go anywhere.</td></tr>
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I miss my friend. It's been twenty years since I've been without a pet. I don't know if/when we will get another one. Having older (or sick) cats for the past 8-10 years has been a lot. I also can't imagine having a different cat right now- although I realize that things are fresh and that will most likely change. What I do know what that we gave all our cats fantastic, long lives where they were very much loved. I also know without a doubt that Spike loved me. I just hope there are sunny porches and warm radiators in kitty heaven.<br />
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<blockquote class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/p/BdYRzcJF7km/" data-instgrm-version="8" style="background: #fff; border-radius: 3px; border: 0; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.5) , 0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 658px; padding: 0; width: 99.375%;">
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BdYRzcJF7km/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Missing my sweet little buddy on this cold Sunday.</a></div>
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A post shared by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/tmgessner/" style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px;" target="_blank"> Tracey Gessner</a> (@tmgessner) on <time datetime="2017-12-31T20:04:22+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Dec 31, 2017 at 12:04pm PST</time></div>
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-32385946532907353962016-01-01T11:29:00.003-06:002016-01-01T11:33:31.738-06:002015 Highlights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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2015 included a house remodel, Ladies Rock Camp, my first (and second) Boston qualifying marathons, performing on stage at Chill on the Hill, working on the inaugural Milwaukee Running Festival, Chicago Bears season tickets (and a trip down on the field!) a couple of Sconnie vacations, and getting my family to run 5Ks with me. Plus the year was capped off with our 10 year anniversary as Milwaukeeans! Time flies, no joke.</div>
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<i>2015 was good to us. Onward to 2016!</i></div>
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Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-11453327012962323692015-06-07T09:07:00.002-05:002015-06-07T09:07:39.389-05:00I FINALLY DID THE THING: Rockford Marathon BQ! <i>*Re-posted from my running blog, <a href="http://robotladyrunner.blogspot.com/">Robot Lady Runner.</a> Because I'm sharing it everywhere.</i><br />
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<i>Refresh.</i><br />
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The entire week leading up to Rockford Marathon I kept five different weather tabs open on my laptop. Every time there was a lull in whatever I was working on, or if I hadn't checked in the past oh, 30 minutes or so I would click over to them and go down the line:</div>
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I thought someone must be playing some kind of cruel joke on me by forecasting 40 degree temperatures on race morning. Obviously, this was going to change and I would be slogging through unbearable heat and humidity (or both) like I expected when I registered for the race.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoe9TGL2YNpAZ7fXh1gIMqKeodlWd9n2ihFnYGmMD-0ZZ4MTQrfYI_L4P0-xN9zlQEYjoBjLJfqdTa15HbnQxYLIlBJOt00Tx8KzC57foLvceLM2g0icA8sPW9fiptArNOH4O4W07jSBwz/s1600/rockfordweather.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoe9TGL2YNpAZ7fXh1gIMqKeodlWd9n2ihFnYGmMD-0ZZ4MTQrfYI_L4P0-xN9zlQEYjoBjLJfqdTa15HbnQxYLIlBJOt00Tx8KzC57foLvceLM2g0icA8sPW9fiptArNOH4O4W07jSBwz/s400/rockfordweather.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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It wasn't until Friday afternoon when the temperature in Milwaukee started to take a sharp nosedive that I started to actually believe that this thing could possibly go my way. I mean, the only missing piece to my puzzle was the weather, right? I felt like if I couldn't pull this race off when everything tipped in my favor then I really had no excuses left.</div>
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I drove to Rockford on Saturday afternoon so I could pick up my race packet. They do have race day pick up but I was antsy, and I wanted to make extra triple sure I had been switched from the half to the full marathon like I requested. Pickup at the Clock Tower was super no-frills and I was in and out in probably 5 minutes flat. (Bonus: The postcards we sent for the <a href="http://milwaukeerunningfestival.com/">PNC Milwaukee Running Festival </a>were in the bags!) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCHqXMaQl3s5CZxtfpMEvPMFbCLhwdbGZJ2CSk184_nonKpWLzKQMl36bv0BL_NGofJy20OiBMXOf9-lRn9xP2lwuHNBlrYrQ2J0wWHxGXrnwVj_35ZBY_Q1OEfGbh9sBaatELh78j84U/s1600/rockfordpacket.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCHqXMaQl3s5CZxtfpMEvPMFbCLhwdbGZJ2CSk184_nonKpWLzKQMl36bv0BL_NGofJy20OiBMXOf9-lRn9xP2lwuHNBlrYrQ2J0wWHxGXrnwVj_35ZBY_Q1OEfGbh9sBaatELh78j84U/s320/rockfordpacket.png" width="319" /></a></div>
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I still had some time to kill before I needed to meet my dad for dinner so I decided to drive down to the race start. On the way I stopped at a nifty t-shirt shop called <a href="http://rockfordartdeli.com/">Rockford Art Deli</a> and picked up an <a href="https://instagram.com/p/3W-ikxKnkb/?taken-by=tmgessner">"I Heart Illinois" sweatshirt </a>with Abe Lincoln and the Sears Tower on it. (Yes, I can totally love both Illinois and Wisconsin and no you can't stop me.) Once I was down there I thought, why not drive the course? I certainly didn't want a repeat of th course shenanigans at the <a href="http://robotladyrunner.blogspot.com/2015/04/fuck-yeah-wisconsin-marathon-training.html">Chitown Half Marathon</a> in April. I pulled the map up on my phone and drove most of it (except for the parts it hops on the bike path.) This made me feel good because I was also able to scope out the long uphill stretch I was concerned about. It didn't look too bad driving it but because the course was 2 loops I knew the second time through this section would hurt. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE37Ea_HhSEPyww68wDPIbURwKkl55MZ7LwvLR-lUGwYjxCzv7JCSPQLc440YHA7env1ncKL5oIJ3NkWm32oO7GNJLSL-TGTW5CxDi5D3O9a1qZMxFeNsZWhOwphTdZhi1o8QWKofTdU3k/s1600/rockfordelevation.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE37Ea_HhSEPyww68wDPIbURwKkl55MZ7LwvLR-lUGwYjxCzv7JCSPQLc440YHA7env1ncKL5oIJ3NkWm32oO7GNJLSL-TGTW5CxDi5D3O9a1qZMxFeNsZWhOwphTdZhi1o8QWKofTdU3k/s400/rockfordelevation.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Course Exhibit A</td></tr>
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When I got back to just before the finish, I pulled my car over at the top of the hill at what would be mile 26 and tried to visualize coming down the last stretch seeing the clock at 3:3X:XX. It may sound hippy dippy but it felt like something I needed to do.</div>
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The rest of the evening was pretty standard pre-marathon stuff: Pasta dinner at <a href="http://caprirockford.com/Home_Page.php">Capri</a> (a classic Rockford Italian restaurant) with my dad, brother and sister-in-law, followed by general race prep fussing and bed by 9pm at my dad's house. I set my alarm for 4am since the race started at 6 and I like to have plenty of time to eat, drink coffee and get ready. Lights out.</div>
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Obviously I woke up and went to the bathroom about a half dozen times and eventually woke up about 5 minutes before my alarm at 3:55. I wasn't tired at all. The first thing I did was check my tweets and texts and saw this from Jason (who was back in Milwaukee with the girls.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMkn9mgr4LGFto0ETvtJd36Qpv8uM_VKjIrjSzjyjdfzHfijjWrM3njB42D1JFSNXenO_A-brnxuo5giH5oR1e9asrXnKoB-axcVsvVbJRnqyIqfknDrshNJPh-AUVX4H9CsOaisHxmC1/s1600/mantratweet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMkn9mgr4LGFto0ETvtJd36Qpv8uM_VKjIrjSzjyjdfzHfijjWrM3njB42D1JFSNXenO_A-brnxuo5giH5oR1e9asrXnKoB-axcVsvVbJRnqyIqfknDrshNJPh-AUVX4H9CsOaisHxmC1/s400/mantratweet.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Something about that really struck me and I kept thinking about it. <i>(Pssst. Foreshadowing.)</i></div>
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I got ready in about 15 minutes and basically just waited around for coffee to clear out my system before going. (Truth.) During this time I got a message from my good friend Shiow in Chicago and she informed me that her plans for the day were canceled and that the would be coming in to cheer for me! I sent her the proper cheer coordinates and felt pretty excited since I thought no one would be there on the course. My dad also woke up and paced around with me even though he swore up and down he would never get up this early. He told me he would drive down to see me at the finish later and I was out the door at 5am.</div>
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General pre-race stuff. Blah blah. I dropped my bag at the start and stretched a bit. It was cold! Awesome. I think it was about 44 degrees- although clouds would have been nice. One thing I definitely noticed was the wind coming pretty strong out of the north. I got a text from my friend Chris warning me about the wind projected for the day and he told me to tuck in behind other runners and draft in a headwind. I wondered how much I would be able to do this at a small race? I was a tad worried about this development.</div>
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Onward. So this event is super low key. They call it a "runner's race" but sometimes I think that's just code for "cheap?" This would be my fifth time running it and although it's always pretty well organized and full of great volunteers, it's still very, very no frills. Last year they didn't put on the marathon at all (only the half and 10K due to money issues) so this was the first year back for the full. This year there was no one announcing anything at the start until about 2 minutes before the race started. Not even an national anthem? Weird. Somebody just picked up a mic a minute before 6am and counted us down. Ok then. We were off!</div>
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Oh hey, I guess I'm doing this again. After 22 weeks of training and a <a href="http://robotladyrunner.blogspot.com/2015/05/wisconsin-marathon-dnf-this.html">DNF 4 weeks ago.</a> I was so excited that I didn't realize that my Garmin didn't actually start when I pressed it. Balls! When I finally got it started I wasn't sure how many seconds had went by. <i>(Pssst. More foreshadowing.)</i> I tried not to let this bother me too much though and began to settle in. My strategy this time was to play it <i>super </i>conservative. The first 6 miles were going to be going north, directly into the wind I was worried about earlier- and also a steady uphill for about 2 of those miles. The week leading up to the race I was considering going for a 3:35 based on my training but in the end I decided there was no way I was going to risk bonking again so my plan was to aim for just under a 3:40- about 3:38ish. I decided I would go out at an 8:15 pace for at least the first 13 miles and re-evaluate there. The cool weather made the pace feel pretty ok but because of the wind and the uphill I wouldn't call it "easy." Still I felt optimistic! We always do in the first 6 miles right?</div>
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On the way north on the first loop I was lucky to tuck in behind some half marathoners. The were chatting and having fun and I was right behind them trying to shield myself from the wind. I felt like I was dealing with it ok andI kept telling myself it would all pay off on the way back south when I would have the wind at my back. I managed the 2 mile climb without faltering but I knew it would be a killer on the second loop. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEqajT9amx4XXI-sj9Wdka-fTv-2E9oouOJUDMqaY7-y705Cz1SLhrwKFEkqqn5FxHXtk4iVQhDjnEOwpbvHVpvZFiBL3FVn085KDFf-YVkEH3SwtKbr_T9dGwmb-xEhTFQrtfCP2VTj5/s1600/rockfordmap.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEqajT9amx4XXI-sj9Wdka-fTv-2E9oouOJUDMqaY7-y705Cz1SLhrwKFEkqqn5FxHXtk4iVQhDjnEOwpbvHVpvZFiBL3FVn085KDFf-YVkEH3SwtKbr_T9dGwmb-xEhTFQrtfCP2VTj5/s400/rockfordmap.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Course Exhibit B</td></tr>
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Around mile 7 or so we crossed the river and headed back south. I was surprised that i didn't immediately feel a strong tailwind at my back to balance everything out. Lame! The air did feel super calm though so at least I didn't have the wind in my face anymore. Also, I was going to see Shiow at mile 12! I took this opportunity to guzzle the rest of the water in my handheld. I figure if I had a friend to refill for me I would take advantage of it. There was no way I was going to end up a dehydrated mess like I did in Kenosha four weeks ago. Around this time I saw a woman with a sign that said <i>"What Would Harry Potter Do?"</i> Honestly I was confused. I thought about yelling <i>"Accio Finish Line!"</i> at her but decided to save my energy. </div>
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This stretch of the course is the best since most of it is on a bike path right next to the river. It's super pretty and FLAT and there are people around to cheer you on at various points. And then I saw Shiow! She has cheered for me at multiple races (where I've failed to meet my goal- womp) but she always wears a bright tomato red hoodie that I can see from far away. When I saw the hoodie I pumped my fist in the air. Woooooooo! She ran beside me and asked me how I was doing and I said pretty good, but would she refill my bottle for me before I saw her again at 18. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNl_13T3IdMmRIMOhqgh-9KCloYs5VbXgI98nHwT7XAU3-XxtITo1-hWi3gaTEeQJEW6ZVVsT4PK0OcZ24QiXBFznBRo1435CmM1ccanvGDA3bITYg9Rixt9imgIZ6L15qU-xFtXPnvb2g/s1600/symbol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNl_13T3IdMmRIMOhqgh-9KCloYs5VbXgI98nHwT7XAU3-XxtITo1-hWi3gaTEeQJEW6ZVVsT4PK0OcZ24QiXBFznBRo1435CmM1ccanvGDA3bITYg9Rixt9imgIZ6L15qU-xFtXPnvb2g/s320/symbol.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Rockford's "Symbol" sculpture. Being symbolic of something. (No I did not take this during the actual race.)</td></tr>
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She took off and I felt like I got a huge boost. Although this section of the course was great I felt like the second loop was looming hard- especially that hard trip back north into the wind. Seeing Shiow got me energized and I trucked onward, passing the half marathon mark in 1:48:19. Nice, but I didn't have a lot of wiggle room if I slowed down. <i>(Ahem. Foreshadowing.)</i></div>
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So here I was re-evaluating my pace at the half. I felt pretty good but I also didn't want to risk speeding up when I knew miles 13-18 were going to be the uphill/windy section again. After the half marathoners finish it get's pretty desolate at this race too so I wouldn't have any one to draft off of. I decided to stick with an 8:15-ish pace and check back in again when we hit the turnaround. </div>
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This was wise. The second time out was exactly what I expected. The hills felt hillier and the wind felt winder. Luckily I don't mind races where I'm alone because that's pretty much what it was like. I always had someone on sight ahead of me but I was never running "with" anyone after this point. I allowed myself to slow just a bit during miles 15 and 17 since these where the more significant inclines. I figured I could make it up when we hit a big downhill at 18.5. I saw Shiow again at the top of the larger hill before 18 and she handed me my water bottle back. <i>Backstory: this is where I dropped out in Kenosha so it felt awesome to grab the water bottle and shout that I was going to do this thing! Shiow wooo-ed at me and said she was headed to the finish and I made my way to the glorious glorious downhill.</i></div>
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Mile 19.5 I finally got to turn away from the wind and head south towards the finish. Only about an hour left to go! Ooof. This was when I hoped to kick it into another gear and sail to a 3:35-3:36ish finish but.... waaaah. Maybe the wind took more out of me than I expected or maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Whatever. I couldn't speed up but I was going to try like hell to hold on to whatever I had left. I started thinking about that tweet from Jason. I kept saying to myself, "TODAY IS FOR YOU." Because eff missing my goal again! Today was my day whether it wanted to be or not. I was going to MAKE THAT SHIT HAPPEN. </div>
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Again, where was my tailwind? Those last 6 miles of racing a marathon are going to feel like a butt no matter what. Maybe the tailwind was there but I didn't feel it. At this point I was clinging to whatever I had left. When I got to mile 22 I was pretty sure I had enough of a buffer to still get a 3:38 as long as I ran under 8:45 minute miles but dammit math is not what my brain was wanting to do right now. Also, I had no idea how many extra seconds my Garmin didn't pick up at the begining of the race. I passed a few runners who were fading and walking so that part felt good but overall I was so stressed out over the math at this point that I just kept pumping my arms and repeating my mantra: TODAY. TODAY IS FOR YOU.</div>
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After mile 25 we left the bike path and headed down the final, long stretch of road. It's flat and long except for the part where you can see the hill waaaay down at the end leading up to mile 26. It's one of those hills that would never really feel like a hill except for when you've run 26 miles beforehand. As I slogged my way up the hill <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3DtoCVxwvY">the final song on my playlist came on. </a>OH SHIT. If this song ended then I knew it was all over. <i>(Lyrics: The clock keeps turning, the world keeps burning, it's life and death, we won't rest, 'til we're dust and bones...) </i>I was pretty sure I had enough time but those last tenths of a marathon seem like an eternity. Also my Garmin was now 2 tenths of a mile ahead of the mile markers so DAMMIT MORE MATH. At the top of the hill at mile 26 (where my Garmin said 26.2 thankyouverymuch) I saw a girl with a sign that said "Touch Here For Power" with a big green button drawn on it. I slapped the cardboard button with one hand and then took my now empty water bottle and spiked it on the ground in a fury. I didn't want a single ounce of extra weight as I turned the corner and ran towards the finish. </div>
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I rounded the corner and although I couldn't make out the clock just yet I could see Shiow's red hoodie in the distance! I punched my hand up in the air and sailed down the hill. </div>
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As I approached got closer to the finish Shiow came out into the street and started running next to me, screaming: "GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" She started dropping names of everyone who was cheering for me back at home: JASON AND SARA AND ROCHELLE ARE ALL CHEERING FOR YOU! GOOOOO! I still had probably another tenth of a mile to go and I shouted back, "WHY IS IT SO FAR AWAY?" Seriously we must have been the most ridiculous thing. I would pay so much money for a photo of this moment. (There was no official race photographer at this event. Mega-womp.) </div>
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Anyway, the clock finally came into focus for me and it made sense why she was screaming. It said something like 3:39:XX! I was baaaaarely going to squeak this sucker in. ( I know, I can't handle the drama either.) I stared straight ahead and pushed those last couple strides out to cross the finish at 3:39:41! </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5Nd5GydlPxeofuyw2MAaqhimG-6ZUMStCcY7156GVqAKiK-dZUKOQmqBwvuM9sv-cE4duICyU0oI09fSNOWtwvlgjj7KovDOMSKaUiyHtQ2xdL0dzVexoWb3AwkG2dptjO2JaTPoA0OH/s1600/rockfordfinish02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5Nd5GydlPxeofuyw2MAaqhimG-6ZUMStCcY7156GVqAKiK-dZUKOQmqBwvuM9sv-cE4duICyU0oI09fSNOWtwvlgjj7KovDOMSKaUiyHtQ2xdL0dzVexoWb3AwkG2dptjO2JaTPoA0OH/s400/rockfordfinish02.png" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">We might have won the Loudest Finish Award.</td></tr>
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I immediately put my hands on my knees in shock that it was finally over. There was someone there snapping a bunch photos of me and it was honestly very overwhelming. (I need to figure out who this person was- I was told there was no "official" photographer but I now for a fact someone was there taking pictures of the finishers.) My knees buckled for a second and I put my hands on the ground and tried to catch my breath. I looked to my right and my dad was standing right there waiting for me! I pulled my emotional mess of a self together and went over to him and Shiow shouting, "I did it! By <i>this much</i>- but I did it!"</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7wYs0gy0hC5xoNDYJ74clRyppy8qVXK-51XZfofyHkOm1ZiOHVdJyVNoQQpczz72oRYiVaTU60rHSdtet_bFD_bWunQyWUlvkSAqUAlGZKderGzgiI8vtUOvq1Nz3LTPU3bFMaPVQdm3/s1600/rockfordfinish01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7wYs0gy0hC5xoNDYJ74clRyppy8qVXK-51XZfofyHkOm1ZiOHVdJyVNoQQpczz72oRYiVaTU60rHSdtet_bFD_bWunQyWUlvkSAqUAlGZKderGzgiI8vtUOvq1Nz3LTPU3bFMaPVQdm3/s400/rockfordfinish01.png" width="397" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">My dad and me!</td></tr>
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Now here's the kicker: Although my time technically qualifies me for the Boston Marathon, a 3:39:41 most definitely won't be good enough to allow me to actually register for the 2016 race. They take the fastest qualifiers first and work backwards until the race fills up. Historically "BQ squeakers" don't get in. BAH. This means Im still going to have to qualify <i>harder </i>again at another race. (Most likely Lakefront Marathon again, which will then qualify me for 2017.) At first this might seem a little bittersweet but honestly nothing can take away from the high I felt at that last moment when I knew all my hard work was going to finally pay off down that last stretch of pavement. Even if I don't run Boston in 2016 I KNOW I DID IT. I really did it! And the long drawn out story of trying/failing/trying/failing only intensifies how accomplished I feel about finally reaching my goal. Looking back at my splits I could hem and haw over where could have gone faster but the truth is I could not have run one bit faster that I did in those last 4 miles. I left every last thing out there on the course so there's no point in second guessing things.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aHce-_mVWdoDEwy1WsSDJkV9WimNUoeepR5-etArmWzPPaemRvIKRygaB1gpDBCYMX18oPQMZiS32KUcPICg4F0W2JoKsJiciGUE7GrSzeLsNvY2B6PLJtDLs0aufMxot0jFwuKhmE2q/s1600/rockfordsplits.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aHce-_mVWdoDEwy1WsSDJkV9WimNUoeepR5-etArmWzPPaemRvIKRygaB1gpDBCYMX18oPQMZiS32KUcPICg4F0W2JoKsJiciGUE7GrSzeLsNvY2B6PLJtDLs0aufMxot0jFwuKhmE2q/s640/rockfordsplits.png" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Exhibit C</td></tr>
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Never ever ever when I started running did I think I would qualify for the Boston Marathon. When I finished my <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2009/10/ok-marathon-report.html">first marathon 5 years ago in 4:26</a> it never even entered my mind that it would be something I could someday do. When I ran my <a href="http://www.dailymile.com/people/tmgessner/entries/3573926">first sub-4 marathon</a> it never was something I considered. When it took me 2+ years to whittle my time down to a 3:50 it still seemed like a complete fantasy. Something about <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2013/10/goals-ive-achieved-them-and-i-have-some.html">Chicago Marathon in 2013</a> though lit a fire in me and I can't quite explain why. All I know is that I'm so glad it did.<br />
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And now I get to experience yet another awesome moment when I smash my 3:39 into oblivion this fall. :)</div>
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Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-76443985280709016832015-02-23T20:32:00.003-06:002015-02-23T20:37:46.493-06:00Sail On.This is Po.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9QPWYtNVdWYGlYAxtnzWaRqryt1o5OmNqImJ2SJOTpTtkG18vEkOrdLnP2RbSQ7IUMbZZa_rXYhdXDqTNexELtrjCyMjJvQ-RiCSeOf6D2-N8uyo1Kr-GOrsYM3IRKkrULiwiktE41ae/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-02-22+at+9.08.07+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9QPWYtNVdWYGlYAxtnzWaRqryt1o5OmNqImJ2SJOTpTtkG18vEkOrdLnP2RbSQ7IUMbZZa_rXYhdXDqTNexELtrjCyMjJvQ-RiCSeOf6D2-N8uyo1Kr-GOrsYM3IRKkrULiwiktE41ae/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-02-22+at+9.08.07+AM.png" height="318" width="320" /></a></div>
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Po's real name was Sailor. (Partially inspired by Nic Cage's character in the David Lynch movie "Wild at Heart." Also, we thought it sounded cool.) We brought Sailor home in September 1997- about a week or so after we got married. Jason and I had moved into our first apartment in Chicago and wandered into the tiny pet shop down the street on Lincoln Avenue. There was a litter of teeny tiny little orange cats screaming for attention. One of them was to be our Sailor Po.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJULIyxHpUkBb1Uk4HEXO6LiWg5MbcOUL5LQ72kTXjgQ-i7NYtPVEwd_a9C-CjP7CM5lEaMRRtQp061k8hmtTti8oycCewS-FVVSk-NpFUL3DkPb7AL6JSIUeJ-s2A1mhc9ovyovnzIwe/s1600/babypo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJULIyxHpUkBb1Uk4HEXO6LiWg5MbcOUL5LQ72kTXjgQ-i7NYtPVEwd_a9C-CjP7CM5lEaMRRtQp061k8hmtTti8oycCewS-FVVSk-NpFUL3DkPb7AL6JSIUeJ-s2A1mhc9ovyovnzIwe/s1600/babypo.png" height="320" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Sailor. September, 1997.</td></tr>
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I used to call to him as a kitten in kind of sing-songy voice: <i>"Saay-lor. Oh Saaaayyy-lor boy."</i> I eventually replaced "boy" with "Po" and thus the nickname was born. An explosion of pseudonyms soon followed: Mister Po, Popo, Pojangles, Po Diddley, etc. It was always a big deal in our house when we would come up with a new Po name. I remember singing the Notorious B.I.G. song, <i>"I love it when you call me Big Popo"</i> to him. Po names were the best names.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Po and Miss Lulu. Like they do..</td></tr>
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The word that keeps coming to mind when describing this cat is "magical." It seemed like Po was tiny for about two weeks and then he blossomed into a lion. He was regal. He ruled our tiny little apartment (and every place since then.) When we brought home his brother Spike and finally his baby sister Lulu, Po was always boss and they knew it. A gentle king, but king nonetheless. In his prime, Po weighed around 20 pounds- but he was solid you know? When people would visit us there was always a strong reaction to him when he would saunter into the room. Things like <i>"Whoa, that is a CAT"</i> were often exclaimed in his presence. He would be a appropriately aloof (as cats are) but he knew how to work a room.<br />
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Po's favorite thing in the world was comfort. He sought it out in all it's forms. He had a purr like a lawnmower that you could hear from two rooms away if he found the perfect spot to nap in. (Oftentimes the perfect spot was a doll bed or a pink bean bag chair- the perks of living with two young girls.) His preferred place to be though was on Jason's lap. No other belly would do and he would show his annoyance at your inferior lap if Jason's wasn't around. It was also unacceptable if there was a laptop in the way of his favorite place to snuggle. There would be a battle for the prime lap position but in the end, Po usually won. He was hard to resist.<br />
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People often say that pets are family and I firmly believe this to be true. Something about having Po with us all through these particular years in our lives though makes losing him even more... stark to me. I barely remember a time in my adult life without him. (Was I really even an adult before that?) We brought him into our home when we were both 19 years old, not having been married even a month yet. He grew with us those early years, saw us bring babies home from the hospital (what a great memory watching him react to Juliana for the first time), and lived with us through 3 cities- 5 different homes. I was practically a kid myself when he came to us 17 1/2 years ago. Now that he's gone it feels like a huge part of my life is coming to a close. It sounds silly that I'm talking like this about an animal, but I can't picture anything filling this missing piece in my life right now. There simply won't be anything like what he was to us again.<br />
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In the past few years Po husky frame slowly started to shrink but he was still healthy and strong for the most part. We lost his sister Lulu almost 4 years ago to diabetes but he never had any major problems. We started affectionately calling him Old Man Cat (for obvious reasons) but also because with the passing years he began to develop a very wise air to his personality. We started to notice that instead of people commenting on how big he was, they were now commenting on how he looked like a sage, old man. The Gandalf of cats, if you will. He had a devoted following on the internet.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These two. Every. Morning.</td></tr>
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I could write about this damn cat forever. But I won't. It all boils down to: <i>I miss him.</i> I miss his tiny little baby meow that never fit his regal stature. I miss how the stairs creaked as he limped down them one by one for dinner at the end of the day. I miss how he would stare at me patiently every time I ate a bowl of ice cream, begging to lick the bowl afterward. I miss him hogging the bed at my feet at night and purring in my face to wake me up on Sunday morning. I realize that it hurts this bad because I was lucky enough to love him so much for nearly 18 years. It doesn't make it any easier though.<br />
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Goodnight, Sailor Po.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-75177608256457380162015-01-21T17:47:00.001-06:002015-01-21T17:58:36.281-06:00Ladies Rock Milwaukee<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I signed up for (the first ever!) <a href="http://www.girlsrockmke.org/ladies-rock/">Ladies Rock Milwaukee Camp </a>back in October and I secretly stressed out about it almost every day leading up to the kickoff party. I kept telling people about the program not only because I thought it was such an awesome idea, but also because telling people would hold me accountable and keep me from getting too scared and bailing out. </span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-551df9d6-0ec9-4ffd-4fe2-bedf4941c44a" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSIzjDqsr-p1BA-z0AcTbcccnXVjngCmOEOunV627LtlWoWUGCeT75RgvagS8Er66V2UpFF6ncHyGPsw76EGmzTGwvqyPxkPGLTlIzReEcZvPsGH9UZncJk4d4U4UdTfsPyesZ9-CsYyy/s1600/tagalongsavatar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSIzjDqsr-p1BA-z0AcTbcccnXVjngCmOEOunV627LtlWoWUGCeT75RgvagS8Er66V2UpFF6ncHyGPsw76EGmzTGwvqyPxkPGLTlIzReEcZvPsGH9UZncJk4d4U4UdTfsPyesZ9-CsYyy/s1600/tagalongsavatar.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m not trying to be grandiose but quite honestly this was one of the most terrifying and badass things I’ve ever done. (And I think I do a lot of ridiculous things?) Basically I’m I giant introvert who likes to combat my shyness but putting myself into increasingly challenging situations. It’s how I keep myself from curling up into a gigantic hermit crab shell and withdrawing from social interactions forever. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe it sounds a bit strange that having grown up performing dance and musical theatre I would be this frightened by singing in public again. It’s not like I haven’t been in situations like this before. Having attended a performing arts middle and high school I had many parts in musicals and performed solos on stage when I was a kid. When I pursued my degree in dance I performed in front of audiences many many times and it was something that I absolutely adored. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>This was sooooo different. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#1 Holy hell that was a long time ago</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#2 We formed our band on Thursday evening and performed our original song on stage just two-and-a-half days later. <i>Some of us had never played an instrument before. </i>I have done absolutely NOTHING that comes close to this sort of thing, ever.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#3 For me, performing dance on stage is a different animal entirely. You get to become a character that is separate from yourself. But using your voice to sing... it feels like there is nowhere to hide. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#4 <i style="font-weight: bold;">Did I mention how long it’s been since I’ve been on any stage?</i></span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even more so than the performance aspect, I was kind of terrified of the “process.” How the eff do you write a song? Hell if I know. I used to noodle around on my guitar and write some (admittedly terrible) songs back in high school. I’ve always loved to sing but I’ve never had any idea how to make my own music and lyrics mesh. I really had no clue how I was going to walk into a room with three other women and come out with an actual piece of music that we all liked and agreed upon. Which makes what happened by the end of the weekend even more amazing:</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">((I KNOW, RIGHT??))</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m not even sure how our song happened. One minute I was sitting on the floor with Sara, Patty and Anneke, furiously scribbling down words and phrases in our brainstorm session. Then the next thing I know we’re in the practice room listening to the chords Sara learned (that morning!) and I’m trying to improvise a melody on top of it. Add in a funky bass line and some kicking drums and… hey we wrote a song! Our band coach Mary Joy jumped in with some super helpful feedback along the way and guided us whenever we got a little stuck on something. (The Ladies Rock volunteers were seriously full of amazing.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So our group of sixteen women formed four different bands, and each band wrote a completely </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">different kind of song. It was so cool to hear what everyone came up with! Even more awesome was watching the same women who nervously introduced themselves alongside me on Thursday night take the stage on Sunday with such confidence. Everyone took what we learned in our safe, secure little bubble of encouragement and rocked the part when the time came to play. I seriously did not think I would ever do something like this at 36 years old. I mean, my kid plays in a band now. It's kind of her deal now, not mine. I'm just super happy that for one weekend I got to fulfill this silly little dream of mine. GET OUT THERE AND DO THINGS.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhvLZ34g-ZMbDfTkBcQaSFOrKuBXVMohNKhVMnbS2eIOPvRfmDMGoP7Kb_83BXdTvmI3YDVltfUhUbQuPZPkXtTtvsF3v-ycg-GG0-C653rEB_onK5s0JykVcHvTRlLNLlLwcmNpOPHrI/s1600/donttakeno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhvLZ34g-ZMbDfTkBcQaSFOrKuBXVMohNKhVMnbS2eIOPvRfmDMGoP7Kb_83BXdTvmI3YDVltfUhUbQuPZPkXtTtvsF3v-ycg-GG0-C653rEB_onK5s0JykVcHvTRlLNLlLwcmNpOPHrI/s1600/donttakeno.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also want to write another song.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>*<a href="https://www.facebook.com/traceygessner/media_set?set=a.10153090360242990&type=1&pnref=story">More photos from the event here. </a>I'll update with the video once it's available in a couple of weeks. </i></span></span></div>
Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-6361040429501405342015-01-02T12:38:00.000-06:002015-01-02T12:52:40.001-06:00Farewell 2014I usually write a year-end recap during the month of December. This year things got away from me (gigantic house remodeling project, traveling, etc) and now that 2015 has started happening I feel like I've sort of... missed the boat? Not that I'm ungrateful for all the amazing things I was able to do in the past year- I'm just in that post-holiday No Man's Land fog where everyone is still hanging out in their sweatpants all day and not on a regular schedule yet. My brain is basically mush right now. And possibly part-whiskey.<br />
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When Monday rolls around I'm sure things will start to feel back to normal again and life will resume as usual. I began my 18-week training program for Wisconsin Marathon this week so that's neat. <a href="http://robotladyrunner.blogspot.com/2014/12/the-2015-goals-post.html">(2015 run goals are here if you're interested.)</a> I've also got a new opportunity coming up that I'm excited about and will elaborate more on later when it gets fleshed out a little more. But before I dive full force in to the new year, what were the highlights of 2014? When I step back and look at everything I realize that it all comes down to Travel, Running and Family.<br />
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1.<b> Travel: </b>We went big with two major trips this year: a family trip to Costa Rica at the beginning of the year and then a grown-up trip to Barcelona in July with good friends Billy and Heather. Both were amazing in completely different ways. Costa Rica came in the middle of a Polar Vortex-y winter that felt like it would never end. I felt like the cold was going to break me at that point and I'll never forget that first day digging my feet into the sand on the beach while feeling the sun beat down on my skin. Also, we went zip-lining.<br />
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Our trip to Barcelona was jam packed. We were on our feet constantly as we explored the city. I left my running shoes at home for this trip but I felt exhausted and exhilarated at the end of every day (which usually ended in the wee hours of the following morning.) Drinking my morning coffee on the balcony <a href="http://instagram.com/p/pmN8Reqnr8/?modal=true">with a view Sagrada Familia</a> remains a very surreal experience for me. The world is such a fascinating place and every time I travel I want to learn more and more.<br />
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2. <b>Running.</b> I didn't run a single ultramarathon this year as I was completely focused on running a Boston qualifying time in the marathon. I put a bold goal out into the world and I fell short- more than once. (It's cool, I'm ok with it.) I feel like I learned so much about training and racing this past year though- more than I have in the 7+ years I've been running. I felt just about every emotion there is to be felt along the way and I know that my story isn't even close to being done.<br />
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<i>(A small adjustment.)</i></div>
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3.<b> Family. </b>I feel like 2014 was really 5 years long when I look at my girls. Not because it dragged on forever but because they pretty much grew up before my eyes in the past 12 months. Ava traveled to Denmark and started playing guitar in a rock band. Juliana made the big transition into high school and suddenly became a super confident, responsible, mini-adult. People always say childhood goes by fast but I feel like there are points where we make huge leaps forward all at once. 2014 was one of those years.<br />
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<i><br /></i>So that's the supershort super-condensed version. I do want to add this though: On New Year's Day I went for a 5-mile run around the neighborhood. When I get back I realized there was a <a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/updates/far-home-snowy-owls-swoop-south/#.VKWw6x8ajng.facebook">snowy owl </a>perched on the roof of our new balcony. I was pretty taken aback by it since I'd never seen anything like it before. (Also, it was staring me down pretty hard with it's intense yellow eyes.) I'm not a superstitious person at all but I like to think that this is a sign of good luck in the coming year. If 2015 has milestones like the ones above then I can't wait.<br />
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-5341126951447286142014-12-24T06:13:00.000-06:002015-01-14T11:26:29.897-06:00Christmas PastAfter ordering my holiday cards on <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/">Shutterfly </a>I realized I had 8 years worth of Christmas cards saved to my account. I wish I had them saved going back farther! I keep every card I receive from friends and family every year in a box but I can't find copies of our own cards earlier than 2007 (pre-Shutterfly era.) I'll have to do some more digging though some old computer files I suppose. Oh well, let us reminisce a bit with what we have:<br />
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And finally... our 2014 card!</div>
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-12912733898117784642014-11-24T20:42:00.000-06:002014-11-24T20:45:38.457-06:00It's Not You, It's MeMy relationship with the Internet lately:<br />
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Or maybe it's you? Who knows. Seriously though, it pains me that something that has brought so many awesome people into my life is such a source of angst for me lately. I feel like can't take people these days though. From comments on political articles to inane bullshit on social media- I don't know what's going on with me other than my filter is broken. I feel like can't siphon out all the stuff that bothers me and focus on the good anymore. I probably need a break. In fact I'm sure of it. I took two weeks off of online interacting last summer and it did me some good. I'm just frustrated that I'm back feeling the same way again so quickly. I need to spend time focusing on people I enjoy in real life for a while and just try and forget all the racism, sexism, narcissism and other isms that have been infecting my bubble lately.<br />
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Backing away slowly.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-86182150429817202592014-11-14T10:59:00.001-06:002014-11-14T10:59:04.352-06:00Up the Wolves<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/n9if4dIlSiY?list=UUwJjcnvSVQBiW6aYMEOeXHw" width="560"></iframe>
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One of my favorite Mountain Goats songs! (Also the only one I know how to play right now.) I duff the chords spectacularly towards the end but I keep on keeping on. It's what you gotta do.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-59113006488571546342014-10-27T13:22:00.005-05:002014-10-27T13:24:19.028-05:00Untogether<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/QN1TdAgIE0w" width="560"></iframe><br />
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This is another one of the first songs I learned to play on the guitar- all of 20 years ago. It's still one of my favorites and I love singing it, even if my voice gets shaky and weird sometimes. It seems that all I play are 90s alternative songs and I'm cool with that being true. Maybe I'll rock some Liz Phair next. Or some Lemonheads? Sure.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-73822606161738508452014-10-20T12:32:00.001-05:002014-10-20T12:32:39.310-05:00Monster RunningI had the best weekend! This was much needed too after a pretty "blah" week. Saturday afternoon Ava and I got dressed up for the Monster Run:<br />
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<i> Rainbow Dash and the TARDIS</i></div>
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Ava did the half mile Kids Dash with her friend Grace and they put on a show at the finish line:<br />
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<i>Wings out!</i></div>
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I was proud of her for participating because really, running isn't her thing. However she wanted to rock her costume and hang out at the post-race party so she put up with the whole running part. I believe her words were something like, "<i>We ran really fast at the start but then we got down the street and were all like UGH RUNNING IS THE WORST.</i>" Totally been there. </div>
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After the Kids Dash I ran in the 5.5K race. (I know, I know, a 5.5K? Huh?) Get this though- I won second place overall female! <i>FULL DISCLOSURE: This was totally a fun run and there were obviously not a bunch of speedsters at this race. </i>Still it felt super good to run at the front! When I was heading back after the turnaround I was all by myself and I got a few <i>"GO TARDIS!"</i> cheers from people. That was neat. Also I think if it had been an actual 5K distance I would have come super close to a PR. I guess I'll just have to race a 5K one of these days. </div>
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This week I'm back to running bigger miles before tapering for Madison. I've continuing to <a href="http://www.dailymile.com/people/tmgessner/entries/30824003">incorporate more hills into my routes</a> and it's giving me some confidence. I'll be in Door County running the Fall 50 relay on Saturday and the plan is to run all the hills (at an "easy" pace.) It should be another great weekend with friends! Yahoo!</div>
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Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-87421054631606965382014-10-14T13:10:00.003-05:002014-10-14T13:10:43.090-05:00Buh.Iiiiick. Yuck. This week is gross. I'm feeling down in general and need to snap out of it. I've had my feelings hurt pretty bad and I'm letting it linger like a bitch, even though I know the best thing is to suck it up and move on.<br />
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I'm usually pretty good a letting things go. Or at least I'm pretty good at pretending like things don't bother me. I realize these are two different things though, and the latter doesn't really work out well most times. So now that I've decided that I'm indeed bothered and hurt I need to figure out a way to accept those feelings and move on. Sometimes people's actions towards you are really about their own issues and it's unfortunate when you just happen to be the one in the way. That's what the grown-up in me says at least.<br />
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Que sera. Life goes on. Clean cup, move down.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-91299911829898954312014-10-09T14:00:00.000-05:002014-10-09T14:05:41.506-05:00(Soft) Rocked <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the spirit of growing and changing and trying new and exciting things that make me nervous, I'm signing up for Ladies Rock Milwaukee this winter. It's a weekend of workshops and songwriting that culminates with a bonafide rock and roll showcase on Sunday, January 18th. I busted out an acoustic guitar the other day and played one of the first songs I ever learned way back in 1993 and recorded it for my application. I flub it up a couple of times but hey, it's been a number of years. Sometimes I forget how much I love singing.Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-54147728520058547212014-09-22T10:41:00.000-05:002014-09-22T10:41:17.688-05:00New Home!I'm moving all my run/blog stuff over yonder:<br />
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<a href="http://robotladyrunner.blogspot.com/">Robot Lady Runner </a><br />
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Considering I started this blog 11 years ago as pregnancy blog, I'm thinking it's about time for a refresh. For now I'm blogging all my run things there and will keep this open as my "family" blog. Maybe I'll move everything eventually. (I haven't decided yet.) Changes!<br />
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-5881239974428598422014-09-10T12:55:00.001-05:002014-09-10T12:55:15.238-05:00Peak<i>If you’ve ever trained for a big race you know that there are both highs and lows. We’re not talking just mild little fluctuations either. There are HIGHS and there are LOWS. Personally, I have some days where my legs seem to float across the earth effortlessly as if was skimming over water. Then there are other days where my body feels so clunky and heavy that I start to question if previous race finishes were actually done by the same person.<br /><br />Running is so much of a mental sport in addition to being incredibly physically demanding. It can be easy to forget those highs when we’re in the pits of despair. The trick is to know in your heart that even if you had a crappy run, a string of crappy runs, or even weeks of feeling uninspired about running, the pendulum always swings back the other direction eventually.</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2012/04/top-o-mountain.html">That was something I wrote at the peak of one of my marathon cycles.</a> I have some pretty good insight sometimes huh? This is peak week for Lakefront Marathon and these words ring especially true right now. Right now I'm on a high, but good lord there have been some lows in this quest to BQ. The first tempo run I set out on back in July I completely bonked and had to bail. (This was after my <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2014/06/sunburst-marathon-whoops.html">mega-bonk at Sunburst Marathon </a>so it was really not what I needed at the beginning of my quest to redeem myself.) Then there's been the humidity the past couple of months. I usually love to race a couple half marathons in my build up to running a full. It's a huge confidence builder for me. However this summer the two races I envisioned running fast at were engulfed in 90+% humidity and there was no way I was putting my body through 13.1 miles of race pace in those conditions. I ended up having decent times considering the circumstances, but I was left disappointed that I wasn't able to challenge myself and gauge my fitness level at a race.<br />
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But the pendulum doth swing. When I go back over my training log over the past 3 months one thing is clear. I am consistent. I persevere. Those first couple of weeks starting my new training plan were a little spotty hitting the paces but I've stuck with it. I've run my mid-week long runs, nailed my interval workouts and even done a fast finish 20 miler- something I've never attempted in training before. I've run easy on recovery days and all out on speed days. My mileage has climbed higher and higher and this week will top out at 65 miles. I've done my strength training as well as taken care of myself on rest days. I will not look back at these months and see days where I've slacked, days where I could have done better. That blog post I wrote back then finished with this line:<br />
<b><i><br />Sometimes it’s the biggest pain in the butt to reach that peak but man, is the view ever nice from the top.</i></b><br />
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I am looking forward to that view!<br />
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Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-47473309453127208902014-09-10T12:53:00.001-05:002014-09-10T12:53:33.122-05:00Project BlueThis happened:<br />
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-51046026810216839372014-08-21T09:35:00.001-05:002014-08-21T09:43:28.597-05:00Adaptation<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"><b><i>I really enjoy training. </i></b>I feel like I might as well have a horn growing out of my head when I say that to people. So many people love to race, but not necessarily train. Obviously, I love to run races. Race day is my favorite! I love it when all the pieces come together and I can go out and crush a goal. Even if I have a bad race, there's something about seeing that finish line that gives me a rush like nothing else. Good or bad day aside, how do I get to that finish line though? TRAINING.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">I've become kind of a training geek lately. I've never been the type of person who has to drag themselves out the door to go run. Even if I'm dreading a particular workout I still look forward to it. I absolutely LOVE a challenge. Something has clicked for me this year though where I'm really enjoying learning everything I can about the process of marathon training. I wrote a little bit about this on Dailymile the other day:</span><br />
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<i style="background-color: white; color: #404547; line-height: 1.35em;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">Heading into the final month before taper, I feel like I really understand the process of marathon training now. (Which is strange because I’m working toward #15. Huh.) I’m just really enjoying the ebb and flow of hard training and how my body is reacting to it. I look forward to the tough workouts of tempo runs and fast intervals but I also enjoy the easy pace recovery runs that follow. I imagine I can feel my body adapting with each new workout and on rest days I picture my muscles repairing and rebuilding themselves. It’s fascinating and a bit like magic at times. It makes me wonder where my ceiling is with this whole running thing!</span></i><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"><i>As far as BQ-in goes, I’m also more mentally in the game than I was last spring. Back then I felt like “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this!” Now it’s more like, “I’m doing this.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">I like that I continue to learn new things with each training cycle. This time I've been really conscious of what I'm supposed to achieve with each workout- whether it's speed, endurance or recovery. I used to just run whatever pace I felt like all the time but I understand now that specificity in training is super important. I like the changes I'm feeling! Even if something goes wrong for me on race day this time around I feel like I've gained a much better understanding of how the process of hard training works. </span></div>Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-22473496561031018232014-08-19T15:23:00.000-05:002014-08-19T15:25:35.352-05:00Sands Through the Hourglass<div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course I realize they’ve been growing up for a while. Ever since they were born, right? Something about this past year though- even this past summer- has left me reeling like a pinball, bouncing around from emotion to emotion, unable to get a good grasp on how I’m feeling. Is it sadness? Is it pride? A mixture of both?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I’m out with the girls and we see babies or toddlers with their parents I often tell them stories about things they did when they were that particular age. Everything triggers a memory about them lately and I’ll start rambling about the funny words they used to say or certain places we used to go together. Don’t even get me started about Throwback Thursday (#tbt) on Instagram. Every time I post an old photo of the girls and do the math figuring out just how long ago it was it sends me reeling. How can it be 9 years ago that I put Juliana on the bus to kindergarten? Images of Ava with her ringlets of curls in 2005 feel like they literally just happened. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17.25px; white-space: pre-wrap;">At 22 years old, I started having kids way before most of my friends. I lived a different life than most people my age during that time but I always loved it. I was always <i>"Tracey with the 2 little girls."</i> These days <span style="line-height: 1.15;">I know so many new parents- either with super young kids or in the process of trying to start a family. I find myself on the outside again having children that could be their babysitters. At (almost) 11 and 14 years old my girls are actually closer to being adults than they are to being babies. </span>I'm so proud of them, and even though I know the road from here to 18 years old is still long and filled with god-knows-what before Jason and I retire somewhere on the English Countryside, I sometimes miss the days of chubby cheeks, sweet-smelling hair, and tiny little voices.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">My mind knows that they are growing up but in my heart I still feel like </span><i style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Tracey with the 2 little girls.” </i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span>Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-6174088668590330722014-08-10T18:51:00.002-05:002014-08-21T09:45:52.186-05:00Tweet Tweet<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">There are lots of opinions out there about social media. From it's the most amazing thing to on the internet to it's the downfall of real life communication and everything inbetween. One thing that is pretty much universally agreed upon though is that it's good to take a break from such things every once in a while. Unplug, if you will. Now I'm m not one to trash social media (and the internet in general) since I owe half of my current friendships to Twitter and Dailymile, but good lord I can certainly see the benefits of stepping away from the computer screen- even for a short period of time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">I tend to be a sensitive person. Not that I'm a fragile flower so-to-speak, but I'd like to think that I'm fairly empathetic. I find that I'm very affected by the moods of people around me and social media can really amplify that. I realized that I was getting to point that I was checking in on Twitter constantly- and consequently being very affected by whatever I was reading at the time. And let's face it: a large percentage of the time people are going on Twitter to bitch. Truth. I got to a point where I was being drawn in too much by the emotions of all the people I follow on social media. I like these people most of the time but I just wanted a break from the constant chatter, you know?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">A few weeks ago Jason and I took a road trip out to Boston. We visited some of my family in a nearby suburb and spent some time exploring the city for a few days. Still, any time we were waiting in line somewhere or stopping back at the hotel- basically any free moment there was some downtime I was refreshing my friends list on Twitter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">What the hell.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">During the drive home I made a decision. No tweeting for two weeks. None. And absolutely no lurking around checking on my feed either. That's really the time suck for me. For every tweet I post there's pages and pages of scrolling and reading things I never comment on or respond to. What I really needed to do was just go about my day without any outside influences to muck it up. And you know what? I'VE GOTTEN SO MUCH DONE THESE PAST TWO WEEKS. It's been amazing. Without the constant distraction I've been incredibly productive. On the flip side I'm sure I've missed about a thousand and three things going on in my friends lives but then I think back to 5 or 6 years ago and I realize I wouldn't have known those things anyway unless I called them on the phone or saw them in person.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">I'm not quitting the internet. I'd be lying if I said these past two weeks haven't been kind of freeing in a way. And here's the real kicker: I still posted on Instagram even checked Facebook once a day. I wasn't even remotely "unplugged" in the real sense of the word. Twitter is different though. I once explained to someone as "an ongoing conversation that is always happening." You can always jump in. You can always find someone to talk to. You can also find about a million things to roll your eyes about and ruin your day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">Today I got on Twitter for the first time in two weeks. I posted a couple of things and scrolled through my secret "besties" list to see what people were up to. Then I closed it. I'll probably look again tomorrow while I'm having coffee. I enjoy it, really I do! It was really hard for me not to check in at first. I just need to find a better balance. First World Problem indeed.</span><br />
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-61955598881669965502014-06-19T10:29:00.000-05:002014-06-19T10:30:21.313-05:00Graduations and Rock n' RollSo proud of these girls.<br />
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Juliana, 8th grade graduation</div>
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Negative/Positive performs at Chill on the Hill</div>
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Looking forward to an amazing summer!</div>
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-27308261840111261072014-06-02T16:40:00.002-05:002014-06-02T16:40:28.427-05:00Sunburst Marathon. Whoops.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yep. The look on my face says it all.</div>
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I won't lie. This stings. There are bright points however- most of which have come to me after pouting for a day before sucking it up and moving on.</div>
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I knew the forecast called for heavy humidity all week but I kept telling myself that at least the actual temperature wasn't going to be too hot until after I finished. (It was 85 that day but 60 at the start- maybe 75 by the time I was done.) My plan was to drink at every other water stop (of which there were 22- wow!) This would not only keep me hydrated in addition to my handheld but would also give me the opportunity to build in little 10-20 second surges every couple of miles to break things up.</div>
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I think it was somewhere between mile 2 and 3 where I realized I was already drenched in sweat. Ugh. I don't want to say I gave up there but in the back of my mind I feel like I already *knew* it was not in the cards for me that day. It felt so much like my huge bonk at Rockford Marathon a couple of years ago. I was hitting my pace at the mile splits but it didn't feel... easy. It wasn't "hard" either but it also wasn't the usual easy happy-go-lucky feel that marathon pace has been for me lately. It took some focusing to hold it there.</div>
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The course was actually very nice. It ran along the Saint Joseph river in South Bend for the most part and there were a number of out-and-backs so you were coming back on other runners a lot which is fun- especially for a small race where you could get really spread out and lonely. It was just sooooo darn humid. I was drinking tons of water but my mouth felt completely dry by mile 7. By mile 13 I knew there was no way I could hold the pace for 13 more. I felt lightheaded and and absolutely awful.</div>
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I stuck it out for one more mile and then I decided not to push my body past what it was meant to do that day. And it was not meant to run a BQ, that was clear. By mile 16 I started taking walk breaks. I ran/walked the last TEN miles of this god forsaken race. On one hand I felt terrible and wanted to quit, but another part of me knew there was no reason why I couldn't complete the distance. Sure I was wiping away tears here and there but I told myself that just because I wasn't going to run my dream time didn't mean that I should pack it up and go home. I drove 3 hours to be there anyway! That's a looooong drive back with no medal. So I swallowed my pride and finished the damn race.</div>
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I have lots of thoughts about this. I feel like I had to try again after how close I got at Wisconsin. Even blowing up the last five miles there I felt absolutely strong for 20 miles at marathon pace before cramping. I really feel like my fitness level was still there this weekend- I just absolutely suck at racing in summer weather. I really not good at it (as seen in previous hot weather marathons where I completely fell apart.)</div>
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I'm going to take June "easy," which works out since we're traveling for a week at the end of the month. Then when I come back its 14 weeks until Lakefront Marathon in October where I'll be putting EVERYTHING on the table. It will be the five year anniversary of my first marathon! My marathoniversary? I'll be able to have my family and my friends there to cheer me on as well which makes me really happy. I ran my first marathon at Lakefront, as well as my first sub-4. I now I will make it the location of my first BQ.</div>
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Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-3423474701869798982014-05-11T14:42:00.004-05:002014-05-11T19:47:45.464-05:00Hitting ResetWhat, no Wisconsin Marathon race report? A little over a week after the race I've come to terms with it, considered my next move, and put a new plan into action. So I guess I'm already over what happened there and don't feel the need to rehash every step.<br />
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Did I qualify for Boston? Nope. Did I run my fastest marathon yet? Hell yeah! I'm happy about the PR but it was a bitter pill to swallow to run ahead of pace until mile 21 and feel the wheels totally come off. I kind of feel like I was due for something like that to happen to me though so when I look at the big picture, I'm not bitter about it. I'm taking the stance that <i><b>any goal that comes too easy isn't an aggressive enough goal. </b></i>It's the whole point of a challenge right?<br />
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So what happened? I'm still not exactly sure. Like I said, I ran ahead of pace (average 8:10) for 20 miles. Somewhere between 20 and 21 I started to feel a tightness in my left hip- which showed up right away with an 8:30+ mile 21. I remember wondering if I should stop and try and stretch but also knew that doing so can also mean the "kiss of death" in a marathon. It kept getting tighter though, until I felt so locked up that my stride was becoming obviously lopsided- and painful! So I did the unthinkable and stopped to stretch and then walked for about 30 seconds. Nearly a 10 minute mile 22. Ugh. At this point though I knew I could still squeak in under a 3:40 finish time if I could get back to running 8:30s for the last 4 miles.<br />
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Nope. I knew for the second I started running again that my body could no longer get back to that pace. It was infuriating, but at the same time I refocused on at least running a PR. All my body could do at this point was shuffle/walk out 10-11:00 miles to the finish. It hurt (in more ways than one) but I did it.<br />
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What should I have done different? It's hard to say. I felt like everything was completely on point for 3/4 of the race. I honestly thought I had it in the bag! This week I've spent some time researching why something like this happens late in a marathon and it seems to be due to running the same pace for extended periods of time on a flat surface. Um... check? So one thing I'm going to do next time is throw in some 20-30 second strides every mile or two to break up the repetitiveness of a single pace for long.<br />
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<b>Next time. </b> When will that be? Honestly, the thought of going through another training cycle for 12 to 16 more weeks is not something that interests me. I feel like my fitness level is where it needs to be right now and all I need is for the pieces to come together on the right day. So... I'm trying again! In three weeks. I'm registered for the <a href="http://www.sunburstraces.org/">Sunburst Marathon in South Bend on the 31st!</a> After taking a recovery week this week I feel like I can buckle down and be ready to race again then. Let's look at Wisconsin Marathon as a 21-mile training run at race pace... which a 5 mile cooldown. Ok? Ok. Let's go.<br />
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Marathon #13. Every finish is good. </div>
<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-46256070748076332802014-05-09T08:53:00.001-05:002014-05-09T09:00:22.463-05:00Stepping UPIt's been a while since I've done a YMCA update (busy vacation-ing and running marathons I suppose.) This week though I finally made it back to try a new class! I ventured out to the <a href="http://www.ymcamke.org/locations/southwest">Southwest YMCA in Greenfield </a>to try <a href="http://w3.lesmills.com/global/en/classes/bodystep/about-bodystep/">BODYSTEP. </a><br />
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Yes, I'm as surprised as you are that step classes still exist! I went through a Kathy Smith dvd phase after I had Juliana (almost 14 years ago- oof) and I was a step class regular at my local community center back then. So while technically I'm not a newbie, I knew I was definitely going to have to reach waaay back into the depths of my muscle memory for this class. </div>
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First off, the Southwest Y is really nice! The indoor track particularly caught my eye on the way to class from the locker rooms. I'm told there's an outdoor track at this location as well. The studio my class was in had a lot of natural light and windows, which I always appreciate. I set up my spot in the room, eyeballing what the other people had chosen. I decided to go with fewer risers on my step, but kept a couple on the side in case I wanted to bump up the height later on. No need to show off today, I thought. :)</div>
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<b>Getting to work</b></div>
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Back to that muscle memory. It's a wonderful thing! Once the music started pumping and we got moving, everything started to come back to me. There are a few specific terms for different movements in a step class and when I heard them again I felt myself thinking, <i>"Aha!" </i>There's definitely a level of coordination involved that might frustrate some people, although there's also a TON of repetition which helps if it takes a while to catch on. One thing I really like about step is that you start with a basic movement and then build on top of it. As the class goes on you learn more choreography but you always come back to the beginning to put everything together. Also, it's a cardio bonanza. You sweat like crazy! If you like dancing, this class is probably a great choice. For a beginner there were lots of modifications given for the more complicated moves, and on the flip side there were many ways to make it harder as well (adding bigger arms or jumps to the movements or adding a riser to the step.) When I left, I daresay I was "glowing." It put me in a great mood. </div>
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<b>Next up??</b></div>
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<i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16.899999618530273px;">Full Disclosure: I have been offered a free family membership to the <a href="http://ymcamke.org/" style="color: #336699;">YMCA of Metropolitan Milwaukee </a>in 2014 in exchange for blogging, tweeting and general social-media-ing about my experiences there. Hey, why not? Sounds good to me. </i></div>
Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-61942236010995852842014-04-27T15:35:00.002-05:002014-04-27T15:38:01.211-05:00BEACH FINALLY HAPPENED.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It happened so hard. And it was glorious. And we even had a side of adventure thrown in. For example:<br />
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ZIP LINE!</div>
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You might think that as a person who runs ultra-marathons that I have a healthy sense of adventure. However, when I'm not running I like my feet firmly planted on the ground (and let's face it, butt on the couch) so the fact that I hung from a wire high up in the sky above all the tree tops is something that I still have a hard time believing happened in my real, actual life.<br />
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But it did!</div>
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And then I showered in my air conditioned hotel room and marched my ass back to the pool for more pina coladas. I may have drank my weight in fruity cocktails last week. It was an impressive showing.<br />
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Seriously though. Just to lift my face to the sky and feel ACTUAL WARM on my skin was almost more amazing than flying through the air like an extreme-adventure-style-Mary-Poppins. After the winter we had here in Wisconsin (that at times felt like it would break me into pieces) I feel like I can hardly put into words the feeling of calm that swept over me to just dig my feet into the sand and watch the sun setting over the Pacific. I had been holding so much anxiety in my body leading up to this trip that it was phenomenal to relax and let it all fall away.<br />
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Getting a Swedish massage may have helped as well. And did I mention all those pina coladas?</div>
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<br />Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5989434456567311201.post-30110988118447959122014-04-07T10:15:00.000-05:002014-04-07T10:18:09.830-05:00Ch-Ch-ChiselEpisode #6 in my YMCA group exercise saga is Y-Chisel! (Gotta love the names of these classes.) After <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2014/02/body-combat-boomboompow.html">Combat,</a> <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2014/02/getting-blitzed.html">Blitz,</a> and <a href="http://www.traceysspace.net/2014/03/before-i-became-member-of-y-one-thing-i.html">Pump</a> I wasn't quite sure what Chisel would bring and how it would be different from the others.<br />
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This time I joined up with my friend Sara. We were the first two there but the instructor already had a mat laid out in the middle of the room with some weights and a resistance band so we sized up what she had and followed suit. I was still a little unsure how heavy weights to use so I ended up grabbing four sets to choose from (along with what I knew to be a medium-weight band.) This many weights was probably overkill but the class ended up being so small that I didn't feel bad taking so many options.<br />
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<b>Getting down to business:</b><br />
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This class felt similar to Body Pump in that it had set tracks of music for different types of exercises. (Shoulder pressing, lunging, core work, etc.) We stuck to high repetitions of lower weights again, which kind of throws me at first because I usually like to use heavier weights. Despite grabbing one of the larger sets of dumbbells before class, I never used them! We also did a lot of exercises that used our own bodyweight. For example we had a few sets of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLXCa0-BV24">plank walkups</a> that seemed to go on forEVER. It was a real challenge to push through that track without stopping to take a break. Another track had us using the resistance band- lots and lots of <a href="http://www.weighttraining.com/exercises/resistance-band-glute-kickback">glute kickbacks</a> with the band wrapped around our feet. I certainly felt those the following day.<br />
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I really enjoyed how this class is a blend of cardio and strength work. My heart rate was up the whole time and the 45 minutes seemed to fly by. I also feel like I got a very balanced workout from head to toe. Overall I feel like the Y has a great mix of classes so you can switch things up a lot and not get bored.<br />
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<i><a href="http://ymcacw.org/sites/default/files/Sherwood_Group_Ex_2_WEB.jpg">Photo from ymcacw.org</a></i></div>
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<b>Next up: ZUMBA</b>Tracey Gessnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12885903245888445422noreply@blogger.com0