Day in the Life

When Oiselle asked me to do a “Day in the Life” blog I was pumped, how hard could it be? Write a little, add some pictures, maybe a little video. But then came the hard part, choosing a day to chronicle.  Everyday in my life is different.  Is there practice? What is practice? Do I need spikes? Where am I working today; Eclipse Running? Eclipse Pizza? both? neither? Is there PT today? Or the chiropractor?  Do I need to double? Is it a lifting day? Am I traveling this weekend? Am I coaching? Racing? Both? Just picture a calendar highlighters threw up on and that’s what I’m working with most days.  

6:00A

My phone is buzzing around in my blankets somewhere with the alarm memo, “somewhere someone is already up getting it done.”

6:15A

Bread in the toaster. The coffee pot contains 4AM cold coffee, courtesy of my pro-triathlete roommate, who heads to swim before the heat turns on in the morning.  New pot STAT.  Toast pops up. On goes peanut butter, banana, honey, cinnamon; yes in that exact order everyday. Creature of habit, guilty as charged.

Today is a workout day so I have a few hours to chill, organize my day, catch up on some shows (currently working my way through White Collar), and do some neglected chores.  Working at the running store and restaurant; which means I’ll have to double after work.  Lifting can get moved to tomorrow.  Reminds me I have to update my running log.

8:15A   Head to the chiropractor before practice.  Do I have everything? Probably not.

8:50A   Head to campus.

9:00A   YES AWESOME PARKING SPOT!

9:10A

I meet up with Kirk and set up everything for practice.  A couple rows of hurdles.  A plethora of med balls.  Scissor hurdles. Wobble boards. Cones, cones, cones... I’ve never seen so many cones.  

10:00A 

Get the low down on the workout, do pre-run exercises, and head out the door for warm up.  Twelve women will be on the track today.  Some with the same workouts, but many with different times.  Two coaches are there, but one is working out (that’s me).  Having the ability to do workouts at the same time as the athletes I help coach definitely has it’s benefits.  There is always someone to run with and I can give Kirk feedback on how it seems to be going for people real time.  However, there is a lot going on and things can get out of hand very fast.... let the chaos begin.

1:05P

Cooling down to my car.  I was supposed to be at Eclipse Running for work 5min ago.  Shoot a quick text to Chuck, the owner- “Just finished practice, be there in 10.” “K. No rush. Did you get a chance to eat?”  Damn that’s what I forgot.  There’s a banana and a bar in my bag, not going to cut it.  Quick stop at Newman’s Deli on the way.  

1:20P

Welcome to Eclipse Running, Reno’s oldest running specialty store.  I’ve worked here since high school and have the greatest boss ever.  I’ll spend the first hour or so still in my workout clothes, stretching and foam rolling in between customers.  A few shipments of shoes need to be put away.  A couple customers with special orders get called.  Socks get restocked. 

6:00P

Head for home.  Usually I’d be headed to Eclipse Pizza for round two of work but it’s slow so they don’t need me (yes, Eclipse Running and Eclipse Pizza are affiliated).

6:15P

I’m whimping out on a second run; cold, windy, dark... not my jam.  My sister isn’t at work either! Bike Party! Core Party!  I’ve had my sister living with me for the last eight months and it’s as close as I get to having a full time training partner.  Somebody to be accountable to 24/7.  We hop on our trainers and get plugged into Netflix (I also need music and something to read... high maintenance).  

7:45p

Dinner. Our “Core Party” has turned into a foam rolling and stretching party.  Brandon (the triathlete) is home too and is making us feel slightly less accomplished as he tells us how he swam, biked, and ran today.

8:30P  Can I justify going to bed before 9? Yea...

#lucky13

I've never been much for resolutions.  If I was they might look something like this: spend more time stretching, blog more, stop procrastinating.  Since I'm posting this well after the time where it is still appropriate to say "Happy New Year" to people, a few of those "resolutions" are already out the window.  The stretching more thing is going well but, let's see how that is in another week.
But goals... I'm all about goals.  The Goals of 2013:

The quest for Speed, Power, and Durablity.
Heading into 2013 the biggest question is how can I be faster than last year?  Which leads into the next question (and gut check) what are my weaknesses?  Easy answer: speed/power and durability.
After watching me do fly 60's one day my coach joking said, "If I could wave a magic wand over you I'd give you raw speed."  This is the same guy who said my vertical jump was high enough to just slip a piece of paper under my feet (but seriously, at the time it was).  There are some serious kickers out there and I don't like the taste of dust.
Putting in 85+ miles week in and out takes its toll on my body.  I've learned the value of rest days, easy days, naps, relationships between volume and intensity; but at some point my body is going to say enough.  It's always a game of opening the envelope without ripping it.
How do I turn these weaknesses into non-issues?  My answer: become a better athlete.  Alright awesome, Collier, but how can you just say "I'm going to become a better athlete"?  Hit the weight room... kind of.  I have this tendency to have muscles appear out of thin air just walking by a weight room so, we needed to be creative.  Enter my new friend Julie Young, the owner of O2 Fitness, who I've teamed up to help with the speed/power/durability issue.  Ascending the list of top US/world steeplechasers is going to take more than just being fast between barriers and efficient over them although, sometimes, that seems hard enough.  When you have to jump/hurdle/throw your tired body and wasted legs over 28 barriers and 7 water pits it needs to look pretty; and being strong, agile, quick, and durable never hurt.  When it stops looking pretty, you my friend, are in serious trouble.
Maybe my goal should be to always look pretty in races... not sure that'll get me on a world or olympic team.

Airport Phone Calls.

Originally my idea behind starting this blog was so that my family and friends could stay more up to date with what was going on in my life.  Since I blog so often you can see how well that worked out.  When I finally do get around to catching up with them and they ask whats been going on my answer is always the same "Running and working. Same as usual. Nothing exciting. My life stays pretty consistent month to month."  Boring.  I am boring but my life is exciting.  I travel almost every weekend coaching with UNR and I'm running professionally.  There's bound to be some exciting details slipping through the cracks in the months between "life update" phone calls.

One problem- my days are filled.  Planned down to the minute. When there is a day with nothing that's exactly what I'm doing, nothing.  So where am I going to find this time to catch up? Airports.  

I waste a lot of time in airports; wandering, browsing the magazines that were the same as last week and will be the same next week (even though I stand there, blank expression on my face, hoping to come across something new every time), refreshing my twitter feed every half second.  Goal: use that time to call my friends who I've neglected and get regular life updates; because trying to review 6+ months of life in a ten minute phone call you lose the awesome details.

Junior Silver State Striders
I never would have gotten to this point in my running career without the Silver State Striders and Bruce Susong.  I was fortunate enough to grow up in a community where I had access to a club system and an awesome coach.  Bruce was my club and high school coach, he took us all over the country to race and very often on his dime.  Returning to Reno after college, I noticed a decline in the club's presence and participation.  I want to encourage kids to get involved in this sport, because (pardon the cliqué) but they are the future.  Children's passions should be encouraged and cultivated.  I want to involve myself more in getting kids excited about running, excited about being active, excited about track and field.  Whether it's putting on clinics, helping out at races, or putting on races, I'm getting out there somehow.  It's time for me to put my background, experiences, and resources to use and try to return favors that helped get me here and continue to support me.

There are a few things I'm not changing this year.  I'm sticking with Oiselle, which I'm pumped about. They are doing great things in the running world and I'm excited to be a part of that.  I'm staying in Reno, why would I leave this great support system and community? Looking for 2013 to be a great year #lucky13.

Since it's past the New Year.... Happy Tuesday!

Olympic Trials Reflections

Leading up to the Trials there were 100 different posts I could have written and didn't. Writing about the emotional roller coaster I was on didn't seem like a good idea. But I need to tell the whole experience from the beginning.

5 Weeks before race day:
My foot hurts. Bike.  PT.  Chiro.  Run.  No power output.  Crying.  Bike.  PT.  Crying.  Bike.  Run.  Now another part hurts.  Crying.  Bike.  PT.  Chiro.  Crying.  Bike.  Run.  Crying.  Bike.  No track workout.  No Portland race.  Crying.  Bike.  Bike.  Bike.  PT.  PT.  Run.  Bike.  Crying.  Run.  Strides.  Bike.  PT.  Bike.  Run.  Bike.  Run.  Track workout.  PT.  Bike.  Run.  Strides.  Track workout.  Run.  Run.

Mornings consisted of hopping around on my foot, testing it to see if today would be a baby run/maybe strides/bike combo or if 2+ hours and a movie on the bike awaited me.  Each day my coach, Kirk Elias, said "bike" not "run" my heart broke a little bit.  I felt like Icarus; getting so close to the sun, then free falling back to earth.  How could things have gone so smoothly months on end and my body decided to pull this crap now?  The house I had built with so much care, patience, and discipline was crumbling around me.  The more I tried to do damage control the more out of control I felt; all those bricks of my house flying off to who the hell knows where (my friends finding me laying in my dark bedroom, in sunglasses, crying is the embarrassing  proof of this downward spiral.)

The big dramatics of this were all over within the first few days, especially once my coach got a hold of me and put me in my place.  He told me to remember everything I knew.  All my training hadn't gone away; 85 mile weeks don't disappear overnight.  I had already done the work, laid the foundation, built the knife.  If I was healthy the name of the game was sharpening that knife; since I wasn't, all I had to do was maintain my fitness, delay the sharpening.  Control the controllables.  Reminded me I probably wasn't the only one dealing with something.  He took a good hard look at me and said, "And you're sitting here agreeing with me, but all I see is fear in your eyes." There was plenty of fear, buckets of fear.  I had put so much into something and felt like all of it was vanishing into thin air.  "It isn't enough to agree and know.  You need to trust it.  You need to believe that your dream is still possible.  Trust and believe, that's what you always tell our athletes."

My head was back on straight (there were, admittedly,  a couple more brief downward spirals).  Now the task at hand was to get back on my feet so we could sharpen.  I trusted the bike workouts coach gave me would keep me fit (in fact one made me throw up, a feat he has yet to accomplish on the track).  With the help of my amazing PT, Mike Spevak, and miracle worker, Sabrina Summers, we ruled out my biggest fear of a stress fracture and decided even with the pain I wouldn't do permanent damage.  They let me set up shop in their offices.  Meeting with me after hours, during hours, at the track, whatever I needed; they were going to put me back together better than new.  Each day got a little better.  More strides, longer runs, strides over hurdles, and finally a track workout.  With every bike workout I crushed, each stride that felt normal, and every run my confidence came back and by the time I left for Eugene I was ready to roll.  The final brick was put back in place when I did my first water pit since Payton Jordan (your math is right... first water pit in 2 months).  I don't have a water pit in Reno; races and arrangements with the school hosting the meet where UNR is competing on any given weekend are my options.  It was just like riding a bike and the huge smile it put on my face put me totally at ease.  The week leading up the race was the best I'd felt in a long time; even better than before my foot started hurting.  I was rested, fit, and most importantly calm.

The Brosef wondering if
Oiselle makes shirts his size.

Coach called me over to the side right before the start of my race.  "They'll go out faster than they should.  Run your race. Show them you're a veteran."  I remember three thoughts from the race: "Why do they always go out so fast?" "Four to go, time to start rolling." "Why am I not catching anyone?".  I finished 10th in my heat, and 19th overall running 10:00.35 and just like that my Olympic campaign was over.  I went and collected my basket and went to find Coach.  "I'm sorry kiddo. I'm proud of you." "I'm not proud of myself." "Cooldown. Ice. Then we'll chat." I followed his instructions and made my way where my family and friends were sitting, knowing as soon as I saw them the tears would come.

My cheerleaders

It has taken me two weeks to get total perspective on my whole experience.  I tell my athletes you aren't given many opportunities to race and when you are given one it needs to be taken advantage of.  You need to execute.  On that day I didn't execute.  My disappointment isn't in my time or place, it's in my execution.  If that had been the best my body had that day it would be okay, but it wasn't even close.  I shot myself and my chances of making the final in the first 400 of the race; poor execution.  Even though I went out last I still went out in a 75. At the point in the race where my head said make the move, my body said no.  If I could go back, would go out in 78 or 79? Yes. Would I have been off the pack by a lot? Yes. Is having the faith to come back from being 20 meters off the pack hard? Yes.  But if the physiologist in me knows one thing, it's that the body likes to do things evenly.  I am not at the point YET where I can run 75s, but 78s I could handle all day.  That's 9:45 pace, that's making a final, and that's putting yourself in a position to let adrenaline and emotion take over the last 1000 and take a shot at top three.  It's a hard lesson to learn; not because there are thousands of people watching or because your family and friends are wearing awesome shirts and loosing their voices cheering you through every lap, barrier, and water pit. Hard because on this day, you put all your hopes and dreams into one ten minute race.  Having it turn into a learning experience, of what not to do, is hard to swallow.  While it was the last thing I wanted to hear, my family and friends reminded that I was lucky to be there and that even making it was an accomplishment.  A year ago I wasn't running fast; I wasn't even running.  It continues to show me that the advice I was given in college is so true; "Once you've seen talent, it you hang in there and work it will always resurface."

Between "Fleshman Flyer" giveaway and racing kit
exchanges, Oiselle owned the corner of Agate & 19th.

Overall I had a great experience it Eugene.  We called the "hippy shack" our home for the two weeks; huddling around laptops to watch movies (no TV) and realizing not having a microwave is kind of a pain in the ass.  But that was made up for with chickens and loads of strawberries from the garden. Hearing "Cougs" under the roar of 20,000 track fans when they announced me, made me proud to be a Coug.  We talked in ridiculous British accents the entire time, which I will probably start talking in again when I shouldn't.  Met the amazing ladies behind Oiselle (who I was beyond excited to represent at the Trials).  If you didn't go to the #TotallyTrials party hosted by Oiselle you missed out.  Booby Hammer, Lauren Fleshman's dance skills, and Alysia Montano's rap skills... enough said.  I saw my friend Kim Conley's hard work pay off when she made her first Olympic team.  Hit up every bakery Eugene had to offer (the Hideaway is a must visit).  I saw old friends and made some new ones.  Best of all, being in the atmosphere of the Trials, I firmly believe I can make it at this level. 

#TotallyTrials fun

I owe a huge thank you to those who supported me, and continue to support me, as I continue my journey.  My family has never questioned my choice to delay "responsible adulthood" and live like a poor starving college student.  They have provided me with a foundation that will never crumble and always support my hopes and dreams.  My siblings hold my dreams up with their own and have always told me yes you can.  My coach has had so much patience with my stubborn and compulsive ways.  He knows when to let me roll and when to tighten the reins.  When downward spirals occur, my training partner knows whether I need a hug or if I need to be slapped.  My friends continue to provide me with a place where running is my priority, but it isn't everything.  Sally and crew, at Oiselle, didn't just give me my new favorite running clothes.  They gave me a singlet and the opportunity to represent their wonderful company on a big stage.

The plan was to find another race, it'd be a shame to waste my fitness.  Physically I was fine.  Mentally and emotionally, the past month had taken its toll, I was shot.  I told coach my heart and head weren't in it.  "Take two weeks down.  If you wake up and want to go run great.  If you don't, then don't."  My two weeks is up today and I'm ready to get rolling again.  I went and got a new training log.  Enough pages for four more years of training.

A Year of Difference

Since the day the 2012 Olympic Trials qualifying standards were posted, this little reminder has hung above my bed.  I wake up to it staring down at me every single morning; always reminding me the clock is ticking and I am wasting precious time laying in the warmth of my covers. And every night, leaving me to ask myself "Did you do everything today to get better than you were yesterday?" Sometimes that answer is yes and sometimes it is no, but it keeps me honest.

A year ago at Payton Jordan, I hobbled my way, being as stubborn as ever, to a 10:53 in the steeple.  I knew, at my core, I had no business racing.  My workouts showed me I wasn't fit and my PT was "strongly advising" me to not do any hurdles.  Looking back at my old log everyday was a struggle. Workout cut short here, can't get over a hurdles there, and tired everywhere. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I could at least get close to or dip right under my 10:25 PR from 2008.  After the second water pit, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.  What followed was the longest drive of my life back to Reno.

A year later everything couldn't be more different.  This past Sunday, I got my Olympic Trials A Standard running 9:53.79, which secures me a place in the steeplechase prelim June 24th.  I came into the meet coming off a nice 24 second PR three weeks earlier at the Stanford Invite (which I never got around to writing about).  The race went out quick and I tucked in the back and focused on me.  After 1000 I came to the conclusion that I felt flat, but not dead; making sure to remind myself that flat doesn't mean slow.  I gradually made my way to the front pack and focused on catching the leader.  In the end, I ran out of time and didn't have enough pop in my legs that day to get the job done.  I walked away with a new PR and my time to get into the big dance in June.

Someone asked me Monday at work what had changed in the last year.  I told them I didn't know, but after a day I have my answer.  I finally figured out how to become to athlete I've always known I am.  I allowed myself to get healthy, so I could build the foundation that wouldn't crumble when I started to build my house.  I realized my college coach, JD, was right; tomorrow never comes.  I figured out how to be patient and disciplined.  I let my amazing support system support me.  And instead of knowing I was good just at my core, I let myself believe it.

 I'm so excited that in the past year I have come so far, but I'm not where I want to be yet and have a lot of work to do until I get there. Sunday night I replaced the sign above my bed (and the dry erase on my bathroom mirror); always good to be reminded that the clock is ticking and tomorrow never comes.

You can watch my race here.  For the record I went to Washington State University. Once a Coug, Always a Coug.

New Found Motivation

I had been planning on starting this blog on a positive note.  I wanted to talk about how excited I was for this outdoor season.  About how after years of disappointment I am finally in a place mentally and physically where I would be able to play the game. How excited I am to take a serious shot at making the Olympic Trials, to qualify for the final, and race with my sister on June 29th under the lights at Hayward Field.  I am still excited about the next 100 (plus or minus a few) days, but all I can think about is my sister.

While I was out rocking my workout earlier this week, my sister was laying on a table having a MRI.  Even though I didn't need to hear it, because the silence on the other end of the phone was enough to confirm what I knew; my heart broke for her when she finally managed to say "stress fracture" through her tears.  After seeing how hard she had worked the past two years, to come back from injury after injury after injury, and have her hopes and dreams crumble again is heartbreaking.  I've never had a stress fracture (knock on wood) but, seeing the physical, emotional, and mental pain my sister has gone through makes me sick to my stomach; and when I went to pick her up at the airport today I was prepared for the worst.  The person that came down the escalator, however, inspired me more than she realizes.  

I know that her heart is broken and her soul is crushed more than she will admit to almost anyone.  You can see her eyes get glassy and her shoulders sag in conversations revolving around NCAAs, PAC-12s, the Olympic Trails, summer racing in Europe, and even just being able to go for a run.  After the number of injuries she's had, no one would blame her if she decided to hang up her track spikes and never jump a water pit again.  Her ability to say "Yeah this sucks, but I'll be back.  I'll be healthy and fit eventually and my goals will become a reality"  has inspired me to be as resilient and determined as she is. Time and again she continues to fight back instead of taking the cards she's dealt.  I know it wasn't easy for her but she came out to watch me do water pit work and gave my athletes some pointers on their technique.  It would have been easier to stay in the car or at home, but she went anyway.  Her ability to support those around her, even when she's on the verge of falling apart, shows what a strong and committed person she is.  I hope that one day her resilience and persistence pays off and everything clicks; and I know it will because she believes it so deeply.

I have been so excited to step on the the track in Eugene in June, do a few strides, hurdle a few barriers, step on the line with my sister, and chase our dreams of Olympic glory together.  As of now that part of my dream seems very unlikely, but the past few hours I've spent with Mel Lawrence has inspired and motivated me, far beyond what I thought I was capable of, to ensure I do everything in my power to guarantee I am on that track in June chasing the dream, even if we aren't on the starting line together.