Breathe in, Breathe Out

This week report cards are due, our school is hosting an open house on Saturday, my husband’s work hours have increased due to a big project and to top it off I have an essay due for my speed work class. I almost forgot to mention that I get to read said essay in front of my running group-public speaking-sweet! It’s all a bit overwhelming, but before I head into stress mode I need to just stop and breathe. Oh, right, breathing, that’s what got me in this essay writing predicament in the first place.

Breathing. It’s pretty simple really, oxygen in, carbon dioxide out. Oxygen in, carbon dioxide out. Repeat for let’s say 80-100 years and you’re good to go. This has always been enough for me. I do understand that there are many people from yogis to runners who think there’s more to this breathing thing than just inhaling and exhaling. I’ve known for years that my running might be a little better if I could take deeper breaths especially on hills, but I have never really mastered this. When workouts get tough, my breathing transforms from that of a sweet and mild school teacher to that of a B movie killer.  My breathing strikes terror in my running partners, they cautiously look over their shoulders expecting some psychopath in a hockey mask wielding a chainsaw. “Oh, it’s just Aimee climbing a hill. Of course.”

I’ve read some things here and there and half-heartedly listened to coaches explain the breathing process, but really the whole thing is foreign. First of all, there are rhythms that a good runner gets into. I’ve read about these. There are simple ratios that a focused breather needs to follow. Impressively, some runners are able to match their breathing to their foot strikes. For example on every exhale your left foot is hitting the pavement. I’m just barely coordinated enough  for my feet to hit the pavement at all (I’ve been known to kick myself while running on more than one occasion), I can’t imagine trying to synchronize it with my breath. Still, this seemed like a simple formula that I could master with a little concentration, so I decided to find out more. The first place my research took me recommended a rhythm of inhaling for two foot strikes then exhaling for the next two. This is called a 2:2 rhythm. Next, I went on to another site where a different expert encouraged a 3:3 rhythm. Another site and another expert, this one saying you could even go as far as a 4:4, especially if you are a beginner or doing a really steep hill. I am constantly doing math while I run- How many more miles do I have to go? How many minutes will it take me? How many calories am I burning? How many slices of pizza can I have when I’m finished with all this? So, adding more calculations, this time in the form of ratios shouldn’t be too overwhelming.

The experts may differ on the exact ratio of inhaling to foot strikes, but everyone agrees that during times of exertion you should be breathing from your belly and not your chest. This sounds strange to me as the last time I checked my lungs were in, of all the darnedest places, my chest!  Apparently though, the air sacs which contain carbon dioxide are in the lower parts of your lungs. You can’t get rid of the CO2 and let new oxygen in unless you are taking deep breaths. Belly breathing, involves inhaling deeply enough that you feel your abdomen filling like a balloon. Years of brownies, cookies and ice cream sandwiches have given me the constant feeling of a balloon belly. And frankly I spend most of my awake time holding that puppy in. Now, I’m supposed to purposely push out the tummy? I don’t think so.

The experts also debate whether you should be breathing through your nose, your mouth or a combination of both. I’ll be honest; I’ve seen some ugly things coming out of the noses of runners, especially at this time of year. The idea of me intentionally trying to push anything out of my nose, even if it’s air, is not appealing. Therefore, I decided I’d revisit the nose vs. mouth topic some other time.

I finally did find a blog where someone said runners should most often be taking shallow breaths.  I finally felt validated, until I read the many outraged comments debunking this theory. Apparently you can’t believe everything you read on the internet.

 Even though I know short, shallow breaths are not ideal, I’ve not managed to put breathing on the top of my priority list. My running priorities involve consistency, endurance and speed. According to my research, however, better breathing can actually help with all of my other goals. It’s not just the lungs that need oxygen. The muscles do, too. The more oxygen I take in, the more my lungs are willing to share with other parts of me. Better oxygenated muscles mean more speed, more endurance and more energy to stay consistent.

Another important body part that benefits from oxygen is the good old brain. I don’t know about you, but at my age, the more brain power, the better. For those who run endurance events the lack of oxygen to the brain is no joke. We don’t need to find ourselves hours in to a trail run feeling disoriented, confused and lightheaded.  I say save those feelings for the Pub, post-race. 

Breathing-it’s so simple, yet people spend a great deal of time reading about it, asking about it, worrying about it and writing about it. After all my time spent researching the topic I have decided to:

 1. Focus on my breathing the next time I do a solo run.

 2. Borrow Chi Running from the library.

 3. Share my info with you and

4. Audition for Friday the 13^th part 87. I think I’d make a fantastic Jason.

Don't Sell Yourself, Short(y)

On Saturday morning as I was pulling my car into the parking lot of the Antique Sandwich Company in Tacoma I felt a fluttering in my abdomen. I believe the medical term for what I was experiencing is butterflies in the stomach.  My first thought was “I am not going in,” quickly followed by the admonishing “You’re ridiculous.” Here I was after a twelve mile run invited, yes invited, to join the group for a hot drink and a snack and I was feeling apprehensive about going in. I had just run many, many miles with these very people, joking, whining, heavily breathing and now I was having second thoughts about sitting around a table with them. How could it possibly be that a seasoned friend-maker like myself was having the first day of school jitters?

It’s not that I’m bad at making friends or unlikable, in fact it might be the opposite, but the beginning is often, well, awkward.  Some people are suave and full of charisma. They can strike up a conversation with a lamp. Though I have had my moments, I usually can’t light up a room that easily (oooh I couldn’t resist the pun-sorry). I have had several people say that when they first met me that thought I was shy, conservative, quiet, etc. Then once they got to know me-watch out-here comes the fun. I know a few people who always come on a little strong when first making friends and it just doesn’t suit me. I’d rather make my move slowly and then let my fun, cool personality kind of sneak up on you.

Even though the sneak approach is usually my MO it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m totally comfortable with it. Let’s go back to Saturday. I walked in the Antique Sandwich Company and there were several members of the group sitting around a circular table toward the back. They meet there weekly after our run, but this was the first time I could join. I’m fairly new to the group; I’ve been running with them for just under three months and really have only gotten to know them a bit better just in the past few weeks. I am not sure how long the others have known each other, but there was a voice whispering in my head that they were all close buddies and I was the outsider. A few people politely asked me questions, and I eagerly answered, but everything that came out of my mouth seemed foreign. My attempt at wit & sarcasm (usually specialties of mine) sounded instead like I was being dull or possibly even rude. I was much more content to listen to their conversations and toss in a few comments rather than have the spotlight shining on me.

Still, I was glad I went. They are all really nice people and I liked being around them. I know my own minor discomfort was just part of the friend making process and didn’t really reflect on me, nor is it a predictor of whether or not I’ll be part of the gang some day. I saw a handful of the same people last night in a speed working class. We did the chatter and small talk thing and I was quite content talking and joking with them.

This is usually what happens when I am making my way into an already established group. When we first moved to Washington I had just two or three days to settle in before I had to work. I was pretty shell-shocked moving across the country leaving all friends and family behind. My kids were little and I had a harder than usual time getting to know people. Whether at school or at the countless birthday parties I attended, I remember feeling like I was always trying to sell myself. It was always, “I’m from Boston, My Masters Degree is in Education, I breastfed both kids until they were almost two, I love the Red Sox, my husband’s in the Coast Guard,  I have a dog and three cats, my hobbies are reading and writing,  no I don’t say 'Pahk the Cah in Hahvid Yahd'-ever,  yes I have always been short, yes, I am a sucker for chocolate, etc. etc..” Which I hoped would somehow translate into I’m smart, I’m fun, I’m sensitive, I’m thoughtful, I’m witty, I’m worldly, nice, but  edgy, I’m creative, yet serious. I’m the whole package. Sometimes it translated just right and sometimes it fell short.  But that’s life.

My dear friend Susan and I laugh about one of our earliest encounters. It was the first week of school and we were both attending a parent meeting. While we were both recent transplants to the area, I felt like I was always frazzled like I was in a constant state of jet lag, and I thought she was the picture of perfect. She was stylish, together, seemed to know everyone, she was confident and outgoing. She stopped me in the hall during a break during this parent meeting and started chatting with me.  When we were done gabbing I sauntered into the ladies room feeling excited that such a cool character had sought me out to try to get to know me. I then looked in the mirror and to my horror noticed that my shirt was on backwards! What’s worse is that because I was both a parent and a staff member I had already had to stand up and introduce myself to the 40 or so people in the room. They all probably noticed that my shirt was on backwards. Perhaps they thought that it was an East Coast trend?  I actually love telling this story with Susan because sometimes she’ll say she didn’t even notice my shirt was backwards and other times she’ll say she just didn’t know how to tell me and still other times she’ll say it really wasn’t that noticeable.  Any way you slice it, it was classic Aimee, which is fine in beloved company, but painful when trying to make an impression. I guess that’s my point, I’d rather get right down to the beloved company stage without having to do the self-conscious dance beforehand.

I truly enjoy people and have a “The More The Merrier” mentality.I love having a lot of interesting characters in my life and always feel like there's room for more. Being social, making conversation and being a good listener usually come easily to me. In the times like Saturday when some work needs to be put in, it’s a little disorienting. I feel like I have to balance the inner salesperson who wants everyone to know what a great deal they’re getting in a friend like me, and the voice that says here’s a group perfectly happy without you-what’s your purpose? I know this is all part of the human experience. And for the most part I’m very content with the whole thing.  I think it’s important to feel out of your element sometimes. And I think it’s a rare treat to feel challenged in an area that’s usually a strength.

 For me, the timing is a happy coincidence, or maybe a clear message from the Universe. As the mother of a shy twelve year old sometimes I need a reminder of how rough it is can be entering  a new social situation. While I often try to approach this as a cheerleader “Go Maddee, Go!” I think I could be more empathetic. If putting yourself out there is hard at 39, imagine how it is at 12! And while I want the whole world to know how amazing Madison is, the truth is not everyone she encounters will.  I know I can learn from her and hopefully she can learn from me, too. The fact that her shirt isn’t on backwards just goes to show that she’s already a step ahead of the game.