Basic Training

Bikes, Beats, and Wine in Napa Valley

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Wed, 18 Jul 2012 02:42:00 +0000

This weekend one of our clients shipped Jenn up to Napa Valley to help him get a workout in before partying the day away with friends. When most people think of Napa they think of wine first, but it's also made for cycling. Definitely bring your bike and check out this ride (see map below). This route takes you across old stone bridges, through redwood trees and vineyards, and along a gradual 4-mile ascent up Howell Mountain Road. The descent back to the Silverado Trail was the best part, it seemed to never end.

The ClearSlide All-Stars

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Tue, 17 Jul 2012 17:45:00 +0000

We're on week four of a six-week private program with ClearSlide, a local start-up co-founded Jim Benton (who originally started working out with Jenn in 2007). Jim, and his co-founder Al, discovered they had more in common than a knack for building companies. Outside of work, they both eschewed the gym and kept healthy by training outdoors. Having experienced the benefits of Basic Training personally, naturally they wanted to extend the benefit to their team. These young, fearless entrepreneurs are out-of-the-box thinkers in every sense. We couldn't think of a better way to get their business moving than sending their employees to us.

Rules for Living

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 23:05:00 +0000

I find gray areas very difficult to work with. I think most people do. If I simply told myself to “eat healthier”, I would probably barely change my diet at all. However, when I give myself black and white rules, I follow them pretty well. The difference is that with black and white rules, you don’t have a thought process to go through– you just act. With gray areas you require yourself to think over every decision, opening the window to excuses. -- Tynan
Excerpted from: http://zenhabits.net/tynans-rules/

Run with the Bus

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 22:17:00 +0000

According to Muni, the 22 Fillmore route from the Marina Green to Geary takes anywhere between 22 to just 17 minutes. You'll need strong legs if you want to beat that time. Coming up this July 11, Basic Training will join forces with KD Heye of Motion Starved to race (and beat!) the 22 Fillmore as it travels from the Marina all the way up the Fillmore Street hill. Our final stop is Athletaon Fillmore Street, where everyone who finishes will be rewarded with prizes, glory.

Date:

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Meeting point:

Muni bus stop at Cervantes and Fillmore

Time:

Be at the bus stop by 6:15 pm. If the Muni schedule proves accurate (snort, chortle), a 22 bus should depart at around 6:30 pm.

Oh, and remember: be careful while trying to beat the bus! And be nice to the driver.

Read more at SF Funcheap and SFist. This event is free.

A 100 miles in my Size 11 Shoes: San Diego Race Report (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 02:24:00 +0000

The real purpose of running isn't to win a race, it's to test the limits of the human heart. Bill Bowerman

This report isn't about running. It's not about nutrition, hydration, race strategy, or how I avoided getting blisters behind my toenails.

It's not about the number of ounces in my running shoes or the lumens in the headlamp that lit my way as I stumbled through the night.

It's not about the Excel spreadsheets that contained daily workouts meticulously prepared by my running coach. Or my failure to follow them because I was too busy staying out late, sleeping in, boozing, spooning, brunching, Baker Beach barbecuing, and all those other non-running activities that come with falling in love. I’m not going to lie, snuggling and coffee beat out waking up at 4:30 AM and running 12 miles more times than I'd care to admit.

If you want to know how to train for a 100-mile race -- what to wear, what to eat, what to drink, what music to run to, and how to survive -- just ask and I'll tell you everything. Or better yet, hire Joe Grant, my running coach. Even with my less-than-perfect adherence to his training program, Joe's wisdom, experience, and extremely straightforward approach are all anyone needs to finish a 100-mile race. And I really do mean anyone.

This report is about all the incredible things no one told me or blogged about while I was trying to wrap my head around all this.

I probably talked to a hundred endurance athletes. Everybody warned me about the weather. They told me I would freeze at night and roast during the day. They told me about the darkness that would envelope me, my pacers, and everything around us. They said I'd see things that weren't there, and they told me all about the places I would go in my head. That I would be so high I would think I was going to win. And come nightfall, I'd sink so low I'd start making deals with myself. And I'd fool myself into believing that giving up at mile 72 would feel like victory, not a soul-crushing defeat. And that if I sat down by a heater and accepted a warm blanket, it would be all over.

But no one said anything about the joy.

No one told me how running this race would make feel free. As if I wasn't just running, I was flying.

And with that freedom would come a huge surge of self confidence and awareness that would far outlast all the pain, agony, and ankle swelling this exceptionally long race would bring.

Or how immersing myself in my "happy place" -- in this case, following a single-track trail that meandered through meadows, sloping canyons, rock-encrusted mountains, lush forests, and over high-desert switchbacks filled with snakes, rabbits, deer, and birds of prey who accompanied me until I crossed the finish line -- that this journey would bring me a deep and soulful sense of peace that only extended amounts of time alone outdoors can deliver.

Or that being a spectator at this race would teach my Dad how to be a better father. And in the process, mend a tiny hole in my heart I've carried around since I was three.

Or how the simple act of running would unite everything that matters most to me in the world -- family, friends, laughter, compassion, hope, love, and grace.

No one told me these things, but how could they?

These were all surprises. Glorious, awe-inspiring surprises.

Even the surprises I knew about were multiplied a hundred-fold on that day. Like discovering the guy who drives into the canyons around mile 40 and stands there alone with an ice chest handing out popsicles. They definitely mentioned him. But no one prepared me for just how much the kindness of strangers and the unconditional love of my crew would rock me to my core all weekend.

Races like these will change you in deep and profound ways that only make sense when it's over.

I'll do my best to piece together for you how this race came together for me.

But if there's one thing you should know about running a hundred miles, it's that running has very little to do with how you're going to get through it, where you’re going to go, or how you’re going to end up feeling when you finally reach the end.

Here's to the crazy ones

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Wed, 16 May 2012 22:02:00 +0000

This blog post was re-published by our friends at Athleta in their Chi blog here.

In a month, I am going to attempt something that boggles the minds of most people.

When I tell them about it, they say "You are going to do what?"

I repeat it.

And like clockwork, almost everyone has the same response:

"That's crazy."

In a month, I'm going to run 100 miles through the valleys, mountains, creeks and trails of the Camp Laguna Recreational Area in San Diego.

"You're going to run a HUNDRED miles???"

"Yes."

"All at once?"

"Yes."

Former Navy SEALS have called me crazy.

MMA fighters have called me crazy.

Women who have given birth -- that is, they have pushed a watermelon-sized organism through a carrot-sized channel in their body -- have called me crazy.

"That's like a double marathon! Wait, it's like FOUR marathons!"

"Yes."

People ask me questions, like what will I eat? (mostly Gu, liquid carbs, and these things called shot blocks). Will I stop and sleep? (Stop, yes at aid stations. Sleep, hopefully not.)

But mostly people just don't know what to say because the very thought of me running a hundred miles is so hard and terrible to imagine.

In short, my running, my race, and one of the greatest challenges in my life right now has become the ultimate conversation killer.

So I have stopped talking about with people I don't know. In fact I can't even talk to other runners about it, because even they get uncomfortable around the topic. It's just too damn far.

Unfortunately, it's also hard for the people in my inner circle to wrap their heads around -- and they're the ones I turn to for support.

Even my new dude is having a hard time wrapping his head around it. Although he's an athlete, he pursues sports that involve speed and technical skill like snowboarding and skateboarding. Or shooting and chasing after objects, like pick-up basketball in the park. Which is to say he likes sports that are fun.

"I just don't understand why someone would do something that involves suffering. When my body says stop, I stop. Why keep going?" He tries to be encouraging, but I can tell it's hard.

So I mostly keep my training to myself. I talk to my running coach Joe Grant every Tuesday morning. These conversations keep me on track, especially when Joe gets philosophical. He's one of the top athletes in this sport. He has experienced firsthand the way your body, mind, and soul can grow when you break through the walls and limits we call suffering and make it to the other side.

I also talk to the guys at the bike shop across the street from my house, The Freewheel, who are all competitive cyclists. They understand what it's like to take off on a path into the woods and move your body in a grueling, highly repetitive way for long stretches of time. They are also kind enough to look after my dog, Buddy, while I am on my training runs for 4, 6, and up to 8 hours at a time.

Because I have to put so much time in on the trail, it's been hard to find other people to join me. I haven't run this much on my own since I took up running five years ago. It's been a challenge to have the discipline to motivate myself. It has literally taken me all day, and then an additional hour of napping in my car, before I have the motivation to run.

Starting late in the day means that I've been doing a bit of running at night -- which is good practice, because I'll be running all through the night in my race. But it's also terrifying, if you let your mind get carried away. On two occasions I tried to get a grip on my fear of running into a rapist or murderer on the trail by telling myself to stop and think through how unlikely it would be -- the chances of me running into a crazy man in the middle of Mt. Tam at the exact moment I was there. And yet that was exactly what happened to me. TWICE. Luckily, the men have left me alone. Since then my sister has begged me to brush up on my self-defense skills, pick up some pepper spray ("They carry it at Target, Jenn.") She also recommended I stash a bowie knife in my HydraPak.

After four months of juggling running, being in a new relationship, and running a business -- as well as training alone and feeling like a failure and a freak -- last week I finally turned a corner.

And one of the biggest things that has helped me has been a little social networking utility you might have heard of called Facebook.

Because I've needed some extra encouragement and didn't know where else to go, I started posting photos and sharing my struggles there. A little quip about what I think about. A photo of my favorite trail. A check-in at my favorite post-run burrito spot in Mill Valley.

I really wasn't expecting much, except a bunch of people to un-friend me for boring them with my incessant and incomprehensible running.

And instead, the opposite has occurred.

People have been swarming over my posts with encouraging words, "likes," and woo-hoo's. In the span of three hours nearly fifty people gave me a virtual high-five when I crossed the finish line of a 50K in another state (I didn't even know I had fifty friends).

In addition to giving moral support, several people have reached out and started sharing their struggles and goals around running with me. Some people have even told me that they've started running again because of me. WTF?

My friend David, who lives in LA and works in the movie industry, has been following my running on Facebook. He and I haven't seen each other for ten years but he's been ever-present in my life via Facebook. I've watched him get married, have a baby, and win an Oscar. Meanwhile, he's been there by my side, or so it seems, always encouraging, funny, and sweet in his support around my running. He visited San Francisco recently and we spent the day together, eating, shopping, drinking whiskey, and of course, going for a 10-mile run through the Headlands. It was sublime.

The other discovery I've had recently is that even after all the time I've spent on the trail, I never know what a new run will bring. Last weekend my coach instructed me to spend eight hours on the trail. He said this run was all about giving me confidence.

I dreaded it all week.

I have really struggled with these extended hours of running solo. My head churns ideas and emotions, over and over and over. My brain tries to convince me that I've left the iron on at home and should turn around. Or that the dude is going to break up with me over jokingly calling his ex a "skank" during breakfast. Or that my dog is humping customers in the bike shop, causing them to lose business and compromise their five-star customer approval ranking with negative Yelp reviews.

The big training day came, and I set out for my longest run yet. I was very much ready to suffer. To walk instead of run. To cry, to doubt myself, stress out, feel anxious, and give up.

And instead, from the moment I stepped onto the trail, I felt like I had come home.

In a flash I knew I was going to be okay. That I would do fine at my race. And that I was exactly where I needed to be.

So, in short:

1) Don't get discouraged if your passion is something that other people think is crazy. It's your calling, not theirs. Print out Steve's speech and put it on your wall in case you need motivation (like I do).

2) Don't ask for permission or seek support from people who don't understand your pursuit. At the same time, don’t assume no one cares. Or that your passion and dedication isn’t inspiring to others.

3) Find one or three people who love you unconditionally, and rely on them exclusively for support. Even if they don't understand what you're about to do, you may be surprised at the lengths they will go to help you.

Finally, try and go into every experience feeling completely open to it.

We never truly know what life will bring until the moment it's happening. Dive into the darkness and the mystery.

When you come up for air, you might just receive the world's most gratifying (remote) fist pump of all time.

Keep on truckin',

Jenn

The Ultimate Gut Check

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 20:36:00 +0000

I wonder how many race decision are made under the influence of alcohol.

I was already two Manhattans deep, celebrating Devon's epic finish at the Olympic Trials in Houston, when conversation turned my direction.

"So are you doing San Diego?"

I am sitting with Devon Crosby Helms, Larissa Polischuk, Nathan Yanko, Brett Rivers, Georgia Young, and Peter Duryan. Some of the fastest, toughest ultrarunners on the west coast. They are drinking whiskey and talking about the San Diego 100-mile Endurance Run.

"I don't know. Is it good?"

Stories unfold. Like sailors spinning yarns of voyages gone wrong, they describe long stretches of heat during the day and frigid cold temperatures at night. Runners getting lost. And the wretched medical conditions that develop along the way.

"The distance makes no sense," Brett says, shaking his head. Brett's no stranger to running through extreme temperatures and extreme elevation changes over extremely long distances. Last year, he placed 16th at Western States, one of the most notorious 100-mile races in North America. He ran from Squaw Valley to Auburn in 17 hours and 38 minutes. He laughed as he described points during the race when he felt so low he clenched his hands together, holding both his water bottles in a quasi-prayer position while running.

Listening to them talk, it seems that there is no tangible benefit to running this race. Except one.

"Well," Brett says, "at the end, there's a burrito truck."

That is a long way to run for a burrito.

I've run 50 miles on four separate occasions. Always the same course, the same race. And every time it was different, save one constant: when I crossed the finish line, I asked myself, if this was a 100-mile race, could I turn around and run all that again? And every time it was a clear and simple answer. No f!#$%ing way.

"But that's how it always is," Larissa says, "like this morning I went out to run six miles. And when it was over, I was so done." The idea of Larissa being tired after running six miles is hilarious. She doesn't have a car because running is her transportation. When she worked market hours and had to be at her desk at 7 AM, she woke up at 4 AM and ran in the dark. Every day.

The medical dangers associated with ultra running sound like medieval afflictions. Anemia, hyponatremia, edema, as well as a litany of chronic and common joint and muscle injuries. Not to mention the dangers to your heart, before, during, or after the race. Over time, elevated amounts of cardiovascular exercise can cause heart tissue to build up, thicken, and enlarge. Doctors call it hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, or "athlete's heart," which can lead to a heart attack. And there's always the chance of undiagnosed heart defects, like a wonky valve or irregular heartbeat. My heart could be fine under the stress of day-to-day living, but throw an endurance event in the mix, and I could be toast. That's what happened to marathon runner Ryan Shay at the Olympic Trials in 2007. He was only 28.

Then there are my liver and kidneys. I'll have to pay close attention to my fluids and salt throughout the race. If I stop peeing, or if my pee turns brown, I could be in trouble. And no matter how sore my muscles get, taking Advil is a no-no. Endurance athletes have died from overdosing on ibuprofen during races.

Even if everything turns out great -- I don't get injured and I don't die -- there's no way to avoid the debilitating muscle soreness. After a 50-mile race I can barely walk. For weeks. I can't imagine anything worse, and this will be twice as bad.

Thinking of all the things that could go wrong made me wonder: what is the point of this race? It's not safe. It doesn't feel good. It takes forever to train. It's definitely not good for my body (or my dating life, according to my BFF).

It was when Brett said "It's all about your ability to manage the lows" that the decision started to snap into place. Either that or the booze-laden maraschino cherries started going to my head.

If there's one thing life has taught me, it's how to manage the lows. To be patient. To be resilient. To know that everything changes, no matter how awful and no matter how great, one day soon it will be different, less awful, or no longer great.

Then Brett added, "It's really the ultimate gut check."

From what I gathered from these seasoned ultra athletes, there is strength and skill required to finish a 100-mile race, but only for the first 50 miles. The last 50 are all in your head. It's a spiritual journey where you see what you are truly made of.

Fortunately, you're allowed a little help. Halfway through the race, a pacer can join you. "And you'll need 50 miles of them" Brett says. "Airplane tickets are cheap. You can just fly them down." In the ultrarunning world this is considered normal -- the idea that you would convince friends to give up their weekends, pack their bags, drive to SFO, and meet you in the middle of the night somewhere on a trail deep inside a national park to run or hike for 10, 15, 20, or 50 miles alongside you.

And these friends would have to be cool with the possibility that the first thing you would do when you saw them would be scowl and say "Stop talking to me."

But they'll have to talk to you, a lot. They'll tell you not to sit down, even when the aid stations offer you a chair. They'll tell you to drink, they'll squeeze gel down your throat, they'll lick your face to monitor your salt intake. They will make sure you are peeing, but if you're peeing for too long, they might drag you out of the Port-a-Pottie and push you up the next hill, like my BFF Natalie did for me at the North Face race in 2010. And, most importantly, they'll tell you that the hallucinations you're having at mile 90 are not real.

So yesterday, after weighing all the cons (injury, death, hundreds of dollars in race-related expenses, 10-20 hours a week of training, and six more months of being single), and the pros (a free burrito), I signed the release waiver.

I'm not 100% convinced it's a good idea. But the thought of going on an adventure where I don't know the outcome? That's exciting. I think it comes with being 40. At this point in my life, I know who I am, I know what I stand for. Now it's time for me to see what I am truly made of.

A Day in my Gluten-Free Life

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 02:31:00 +0000

Breakfast: Gluten-free pear almond muffins

Udo's Oil Omega Fatty Acids

Snack: Roast brocoli salad

Lunch: Quinoa stuffed bell pepper.
Green salad with hard boiled egg, radishes, and sweet potatoes.

Dinner: Capanota with olives over quinoa

There are a lot of ways to eat better. The best way is to start is to look at your values and develop a connection to food that's meaningful for you. It really doesn't matter how everybody else is eating. What matters is that you are eating in a way that makes you feel happy, grounded, energized, and fulfilled as well as connected to your family, culture, and community.

The way I eat has evolved a lot over my life. I stopped eating meat when I turned 16. I grew up in a Chinese household, which meant a wide -- and I mean wide -- variety of meat products appeared in our house daily. Thousand-year-old duck eggs, organ meats, roasted duck, rabbit legs, minced pork pies, and meatloaf just to name a few. At high school, I made daily trips to Burger King, Ben Franks, and McDonald's. Eventually I became tired of stomach aches and indigestion at my soccer practice every afternoon, plus I didn't like thinking about where all that meat came from. The only meat and animal products I ate for the next decade were fish and dairy.

At 38, my diet evolved even further. My principles were to follow a diet made of foods that were:

Local

Seasonal

Organic

Fresh

Unprocessed

I still ate fish and started eating chicken, but I tried to limit what I ate to places with sustainable practices.

Although I had these principles, I drifted constantly.

And I ate tons of baked goods like muffins and bread. Being single, busy, and living in San Francisco equalled eating out almost every meal. And I really had no idea where most of my food came from or what was in my meals. Although I spent a lot of money on my food, I can't say it was deeply fulfilling. It definitely didn't jive with my philosophy.

Last year, I met Devon Crosby Helms, an incredible runner, inspiring blogger, and personal chef. I was curious when I found out that she didn't eat any wheat or gluten yet could run for miles and miles and miles. What, no bagels? No bread? It didn't seem possible to me that an athlete could get enough carbs and have an interesting diet while eliminating all those starches.

I hired Devon to cook for me as an experiment. It seemed like an incredible opportunity to eat the way a champion athlete eats, step out of my daily habits and rituals, and try something completely new. I also loved the idea of being efficient -- getting exactly the nutrients I need every day without having to compromise or stress.

Today, my diet is:

Gluten-free

Paleo (whole foods, ancestral foods, very little processing)
Flexitarian (mostly vegetarian, some eggs, chicken/fish once or twice a week)

Protein-rich
Not very much dairy
Local, seasonal, organic

Customized for running, strength training, weight maintenance

pH balanced

Fun and delicious
Portable (home-cooked meals that travel well)

Although I'm not allergic to gluten by avoiding it I make room in my diet for nutrition-dense carbs like sweet potatoes, dates, quinoa, spelt, wild rice, and whole fruit. I still eat muffins and bars, but now they're baked with protein-rich flours rather than wheat.

Today my eating philosophy aligns perfectly with my daily life.

It's one way to cross "eat better" off the new year's resolution list for good.

Find out more about Devon Crosby Helms here.

How to Lose Weight

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 23:56:00 +0000

Weekly check-ins with my trainer, strength training, running, and mindful eating helped me drop 20 pounds.

A lot of people have been sharing with us what they want for their life in the new year. Athletic feats abound. Set a PR for my mile time. Run a half marathon. Train for an Ironman. Having sculpted a pretty damn impressive 12-pack, Jon Ramos' now wants to master the muscle up.

Yet it's not a huge surprise the number one thing clients want this year is to eat better and lose weight. We'll cover eating better later. Let's tackle the lb's first.

When I was 27, I wanted to lose 15-20 pounds. I was used to eating a lot of food and not having to worry about my weight because I played sports in college. When I graduated, my training stopped and didn't know how to portion out my meals. I was also an emotional eater. At my highest, I weighed about 180 pounds (currently, my weight fluctuates between 165 lbs. and 155 lbs. I'm 5'11").

I tried a lot of things to get my weight to a place where I was happy.

Here's what worked
1) Hire a personal trainer who measured my body fat and body circumference every week.
2) Eat a simple protein-rich, high-fiber, low-carb diet -- the "bodybuilder" diet
3) Strength training 3-4 days a week
4) Cardio 5-6 days a week, 30-40 minutes a day
5) Alcohol once a week, and only drink clear drinks like vodka or gin. No wine.

Measurements
The personal trainer I work with is Ernie Batonmalique (bodybybaton@gmail.com) at the Embarcadero YMCA. He has been my trainer, friend, and mentor for 13 years. I continue to refer clients to him for weekly measurements because he is better at analyzing body composition than anyone I know.

Getting measured every week was crucial for me. It provided accountability and kept me going when I thought I wasn't making any progress. When I was dropping inches, it was great to see the results. When I wasn't, it helped Ernie understand where to tweak my program. Usually I had hit a challenge in my personal life and he guided me through it.

Diet
The diet Ernie gave me can work for anyone (but it won't work as effectively if you're a vegan or vegetarian).

Breakfast:
Egg white omelet or oatmeal
Fruit
Coffee or tea is ok

Snack:
Greek yogurt and/or
Fruit

Lunch:
Salad with lean protein (chicken or tuna) and
Brown rice or high fiber starch like rice cake

Snack:
Greek yogurt or hard boiled egg and
Fruit

Dinner:
Soup or salad with lean protein or protein smoothie

The most important thing is to be consistent. Don't worry about being perfect, just do the best you can.

In the beginning I tried to avoid being mindful about my diet and just amp up my exercise. That just backfired. All the exercising made me hungry all the time. Then I ate more than I needed to. I had no idea how many calories I had burned off, but it seemed like a ton. So I had a ton and a half of food. It was a vicious cycle. Just follow a simple diet and don't kill yourself working out.

Strength Training
Resistance training was another critical piece for me. I started in the gym, but training with resistance bands and body weight outdoors would have worked too. It's important to change up your program every 2-3 weeks otherwise your body will adapt and your progress will plateau. That's why Basic Training incorporates strength training into every class, and changes the muscle groups we focus on every day: so you build muscle and avoid plateaus.

You don't need to lift a lot of weight and you don't need to spend a long time doing it. If you're female you don't need to worry about bulking up--unless you are training like a guy and using heavy equipment like kettlebells or doing olympic weight lifting. Don't be afraid of getting strong and creating muscle mass. Apart from vital long term benefits like enhancing bone density, building and maintaining muscle beefs up your metabolism, which helps burn calories.

As you lose fat and build muscle, your clothes start to fit and look the way you want. The places I lost fat first were my chest (unfortunately I went down a cup size, bummer) and my shoulders, then my stomach, hips, legs, and finally my back. Oh, the back fat. Lurking silently behind me -- I had no idea it was there. When it dropped away I was relieved.

Definition started appearing first in my arms -- shoulders, triceps, and biceps. That was partly from my workouts but also genetics. The next place was my butt. That was from running every day and doing squats, lunges (so many lunges), leg extensions, and the inner/outer hip adductor/abductor machine.

Cardio
I didn't need to do hard cardio to lose weight. The critical piece was running often. The magic number was around 30-40 minutes a day, 5-6 days a week, which I did either outside, with friends, or on the treadmill. I motivated myself with music, cute workout outfits, and protein smoothies.

Watch the Alcohol
The reason I lost weight around my stomach had to do with changing my diet, getting portions under control and eating less, but most importantly, I got there by changing the way I drank. One month I gave up alcohol entirely and the weight just flew off me.

A lot of people, I think women especially, assume drinking a glass of wine every night is ok and maybe even healthy.

Drinking wine every night is terrible if you're trying to lose weight. Alcohol has higher calories than food. And when you drink it, unlike other liquids like protein smoothies, broths, or coffee -- the calories are stored as fat. For most people, the place we carry this fat is around our middle. While you can't necessarily choose how your body drops the fat it stores, most people who drink on a regular basis see big changes in their mid-section when they give up alcohol for 4-6 weeks.

If going sober isn't your idea of fun (and you're not an alcoholic) here are some ways to tweak your rock 'n roll lifestyle so you aren't giving up too many things you enjoy:

• it's better to drink 4 drinks in one night and not drink the rest of the week than to have 1 drink a night for 4 nights in a row

• if you are planning to drink, skip dinner, have 1-2 cocktails, and only drink vodka or gin

• don't mix with fruit juice or soda

• skinny girl margaritas are ok

• drink a lot of water

• be careful

The Big Sweat: 100 Workouts to Try in 2012

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 18:51:00 +0000

Inspired by a little yoga studio by my house I have walked past a million times and wondered about. This blog post is a nod to 7x7's "The Big Eat." Suggestions welcomed.

1) yoga class at Bend on Hayes Street
2) Nike Women's Marathon
3) Banana Run Golden Gate Park
4) Private Pilates session with Joana Fassl at POP
5) Burn class with Lisa Corsello
6) Private yoga session at The Pad Studios
7) Saturday Marin Trail Run with The Endurables
8) Pilates class at Informed Body
9) TRX rip class
10) Krav maga class
11) Private CrossFit session with Kelly Starrett
12) Jujitsu class at Barra Brothers
13) Yoga class at Aha Yoga
14) Yoga class with Janet Stone
15) Anusara yoga class
16) Mysore yoga with Magnolia Zuniga
17) Ballet class
18) Row on the bay with Neal Mueller
19) Open water swim with Kim Chambers
20) Jump at House of Air
21) Gymnastics class
22) Play indoor soccer game
23) Play in a Waka kickball game
24) Snowshoe in Tahoe
25) Tennis lesson at tennis club
26) Crossfit at LaLane with Molly Fuller
27) Standup paddle board in San Rafael with 101 sports
28) Kiteboard
29) Wake board
30) Complete the balance beam obstacle and monkey bars obstacle without falling at Tough Mudder in February
31) Compete in two back to back Tough Mudder SoCal challenges February 25 and February 26
32) Divis Up or Shut Up challenge with Fleet Feet
33) Run the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim
34) Run the American River 50 mi ultra
35) Run the Lake Sonoma 50 mi ultra
36) Run the Chukanut 50k in Washington
37) Run the Boulder Boulder
38) 30-days consecutive days of boxing bootcamp with Simon Redmond at Polk Street Gym
39) Kettlebell training with Ernie Baton
40) Soccer conditioning workout with Ernie Baton
41) Race the 22 Fillmore with KD Hye
42) Yoga with Pete Guinosso
43) Yoga at Urban Flow
44) Yoga with Rusty Wells
45) Yoga at Hyde Street Wellness Collective
46) S factor pole dancing class
47) Outdoor CrossFit class with Blair Morrison in Sacramento
48) Hiking yoga class in Presidio with Alex Ho
49) Outdoor training with Kuala
50) Compete in a cyclocross race
51) Mountain bike ride in Santa Cruz with MaryAnn Hunter
52) 5k with Dolphin South End Runners
53) Fun run with Hash House Harriers
54) Play in league softball game
55) Evening fun run with Sports Basement Presidio
56) Sunset run with Fleet Feet sports
57) Oyster Race SF
58) San Francisco Marathon
59) Death Valley marathon
60) Trail run on Mount Diablo
61) Bikram yoga at Fluid Yoga
62) Pick out my bike from Public Bikes and Gear and ride it once a week instead of driving my car
63) Explore the dog-friendly trails on mountains in Pacifica
64) Take yoga at Square One Yoga in Emeryville
65) Energy healing with Stephanie Jones
66) Attend Nia class with Suzannah Scully at JCC
67) Hike Half Dome
68) Personal training session at Diakadi Body
69) Sloshball and BBQ in Golden Gate Park
70) Play ultimate frisbee in the Panhandle
71) Play croquet in the Panhandle
72) In Indian summer: ride bike through park to Park Chalet, buy growler, take to Ocean Beach, have BBQ, ride home
73) Surf in Santa Cruz or Bolinas
74) Beach volleyball workout with Ivan Mercer
75) Warrior yoga class with Kevin Snorf at UC Santa Cruz
76) Jujitsu conditioning class with Kevin Snorf
77) Squash game at Bay Club with Marc Service
78) Ride a zip line
79) mountain bike Flume Trail in Lake Tahoe
80) Run with Ben Auerbach in Hawaii
81) Take a meditation class
82) workout alongside a player from the San Francisco Giants
83) Archery in Golden Gate Park with Joe Moss
84) Inner tube down Yuba or Russian River
85) Learn how to cross country ski
86) Run the Men's Health Urbanathlon adventure race
87) Ride to Stinson Beach and back
88) Hike up a waterfall in Yosemite
89) Run to Allamere Falls in Point Reyes
90) Swing from rope swing over Bass Lake in Bolinas
91) Sea kayak with humpback whales in the Sea of Cortez
92) Run in the JP Morgan Chase corporate challenge
93) TRX class with Larissa Polischuk
94) Skinny dip
95) 50-mile bike ride in west Sonoma County followed by Wild Flour bread in Freestone and massage at Osmosis
96) Mountain bike Three Bears trail in Olema then brunch at Olema Inn
97) Saturday Basic Training class with Sandra Possing
98) Extended mountain bike trip (Moab, UT?) with Dan Pardi
99) Swim with dolphins
100) Bowl at Presidio Bowl

Getting Back in the Saddle

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 03:22:00 +0000

Let's say you've been enjoying summer, went on vacation, came home, and have been having some problems getting back into the swing of your workout regime.

Or your dedicated, daily training program was derailed by an injury. Or worse, by surgery. The doctor put you on bed rest and painkillers. Then cleared you for physical therapy, which was boring. But you got through it. And then came the workout slump. Instead of ramping up your training, you came to a screeching halt. You lost hope, one way or another, that you'd ever get back to the place you were before, which was already hundreds of miles away from where you were headed. What was the point of even trying when you had to start all over again from scratch?

I had reached a perfect peak in my training right as I went on my trip to Thailand. It was a three-month trajectory where I had finally found my stride. I went to the gym 3-4 days a week, went to yoga 3-4 days a week, worked out with my classes, and reached a place in my running where I was faster and stronger than I had ever been. I was finally able to keep up with the pack during the mile-long ascent up Marincello in my weekly running group. During a beach volleyball game in Tahoe, one of my opponents complained my sexy obliques caused him to miss shots and lose the game (no one hates hearing these things, especially on the eve of her 40th birthday).

Then, BAM! KERPLAT! I came home, got sick, and everything fell apart. Including me.

Meanwhile, my friend and fellow trainer Sandra Possing, had been leading a parallel life. She was frustrated by a nagging Achilles injury and juggling trips out of town, and we found ourselves with something in common: we hadn't worked out in a long time, we felt like crap, we were eating crap, and we were stressed out.

We jokingly called it "The Fat Trainers Club," (or as my friend and life coach, Suzannah Scully, calls it "The Distorted Perception of Reality Club.") because we felt like this.

And so the pendulum swings.

It can happen to anyone, even people like Sandra and I who are literally paid to workout every day and love it.

Haruki Murakami's talks about his experience with "the runner's blues" in his book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, where, out of nowhere, he simply loses interest in running.

What's shocking is that right up until the point he gave up running, he had been doing it every day. Every day, and for a long time. And, when he talks about running up until that point, it was the keystone that held the rest of his life together. His work as a novelist, his pysche, everything. How can a person lose something that seems so vital to their success? So embedded in their daily happiness? Such a core ritual?

As I remember it, and my chronology could be off, but Murakami has a chance to talk to one of Japan's best runners. He asks him if there are ever days when he just doesn't feel like running. The guy basically laughs and says something like "Yes, all the time."

This conversation becomes a breakthrough moment for Murakami. Even the brightest stars have their moments where their God-given talents become a chore.

Still, they plod forward. And sooner or later, the rough patch is over and they are flying again like nothing happened.

But what happens if you don't feel like taking even the first plodding step forward?

I can say from my experience that eventually you will reach a breaking point. It might be when your least favorite jeans are the only ones that fit. Or when running for a Muni bus leaves you gasping for air (and you miss the bus). Maybe you just "don't feel like yourself" and it starts to bother you. At some point, things will shift. Your body might resist it, but you'll get little nudges from within that it's time to start moving.

Moving is the first step. I work out with a trainer, Ernie Batonmalique at the Embarcadero YMCA, who has been training, pinching, measuring, coaching, and mentoring me for fifteen years. I visited him with my head hanging low. He was beating the crap out of a punching bag. Punching it, kicking it, going to town on that sad sack.

His advice to me was critical. "Just start moving. Do something that makes you feel good, makes you feel confident. Look at me. I went through the same thing recently. Then I started working this bag. I'm not working hard, right? I'm still talking to you, we're holding a conversation. But I love it. It's fun, and it makes me feel great. Just start moving."

I asked him if I should diet, and he said no. "Eat whatever you want." I asked if I should hit the weights. He said no. "Just move. Have fun. See you in a week."

And so, gradually, the pendulum started swinging back.

These were the notes I took in the weeks that followed:

Day 1:
I need help.
Met with Ernie.
Workout: Just move.

Here's what I did the week that followed:

Saturday: Ran ecology trail with Ivan
Sunday: Hiking yoga class with Alex
Decided to register boxing bootcamp class starting in a week.
Monday: Jogged with Buddy to the park (2 miles)
Tuesday: Jogged around the block 3 times.
Wednesday: Jumped rope, jogged Stow Lake.
Thursday: nothing
Friday: Ernie meeting. Workout: We boxed for an hour.
He took my measurements, I'm down .5" a lot of places, which is cool considering it's time of month and I'm usually extra puffy.

All I did was just started moving a little bit every day, making sure I felt good, having fun, and stopping when it started feeling like work.

Signing up for a daily workout program was a big part of the getting back into the saddle for me.

Working out in the morning is also huge for me. If I'm not finished with my workout by 7:30 AM, my day just doesn't feel right.

Learning something new, like boxing, is also key for me. I won't be a pro boxer, but boxing will make me a better runner, trainer, and happier person. And training like a boxer is fun.

My sister used to be the world's most dedicated gym rat. Then one day, out of the blue, she didn't feel like going. Right around then she decided to try yoga. And now she's hooked. The results are stunning.

Once you start to put the blocks into place, the rest takes care of itself.

In a nutshell, here's how to get back into the saddle:

1) Accept that you're in a funk, and it will pass.
2) Just start moving. Do something that makes you feel happy and confident.
3) Sign up for a class or group workout. Put some skin in the game. Sometimes it helps if it has a start date, a daily commitment, and an end date. Four weeks or six weeks is good.
4) Be open to trying something new.
5) Take baby steps, and let things work themselves out on their own
6) Find a workout buddy or supporter
7) Ask for help
8) Track your results, if that helps.

I get measured and pinched weekly. Timed runs are helpful too. There are many diagnostic tests you can try. If your new routine is yoga, you can track your progress based on the way you are able to tackle harder positions. Or, better yet, surrender to the experience and just be OK with where you're at each day.

But, most importantly:

9) Be patient, and...
10) Have fun

Trust me, the funk will pass. I don't know when and I don't know how, but if you are committed to simply moving, you will literally put one foot in front of the other and the rest will take care of itself.

Races that Teach Us the Most

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 22:30:00 +0000

Crossing the finish line at the North Face Endurance Challenge 50-mile race last year was a bittersweet moment for me.

It was my third time running it, and was to be my best time yet. I trained with a great coach, Rachel Baker, who is also the physical therapist we call the "Soft Tissue Whisperer" based on her mystical abilities to heal even the worst strains and tears. Rachel gave me weekly plans and I followed them as best I could. A typical week included 5-6 days of workouts and 1-2 days of rest + recovery. A sample week might feature 5 sets of mile repeats at Kezar, 2 days of strength training at the gym, a short run, a 12-mile hard run, a 15-20 mile long run, followed by 2-4 hours of mountain biking the next day. In short, it was endless hours on the trail and 12 weeks of nose-to-the-grindstone dedication.

I did several races leading up to the event, including the SF Marathon. My finish times suggested I was on track to complete North Face in under 11 hours, which was my goal.

When race day came, it was cold, wet, and soupy in the Headlands. I felt strong and ready at the starting line, and followed a nutrition plan of putting something in my mouth every 7-10 minutes. Ultrarunners joke that running past 26.2 miles is more like an "eating and drinking contest" than an endurance challenge, because getting your nutrients in is every bit of a struggle as getting your legs and lungs to outperform your competition.

By mile 12 I was experiencing unusual problems -- massive cramping in both my legs. Twelve miles into a fifty mile race is a bad time to start to struggle. As I approached the Pantoll Ranger Station on Mt. Tam, I couldn't run forward because my legs were seizing up. I tried running sideways and backwards -- anything I could think of to propel myself up the hill. Eventually I had to stop and wait for the pain to subside because I couldn't walk at all.

Here's the problem with muscle cramps -- no one, not running experts, nutritionists, doctors, practitioners of traditional Chinese medicine, massage therapists, or seasoned long distance runners know what causes them. In fact, relatively little is scientifically proven about best practices and protocols for training, nutrition, and hydration when it comes to ultrarunning. In more ways than one, it's like the wild, wild west once you go from 50k to 100 miles.

The reality could be that there is no single right answer. What might work for one runner won't work for another. Eventually, it could all come together for you, as it did for runners Devon Crosby-Helms or Matt Fitzgerald who share their formulas for success in their books and blogs. But for most of us, it's often one step forward and two steps back, constantly comparing, tracking, testing and tweaking our nutrition until we get it right.

One thing experts can agree on is that hell starts to break loose when the salt/electrolyte and water ratio is out of balance in the body. The damage can be as minimal as an upset stomach and as serious as death or damage to the heart.

It's a compelling reason to do a "sweat test," which my nutritionist Christina McFadden suggests. You simply weigh yourself before and after a timed run to determine how much sweat your body releases. With this knowledge, you can measure exactly how much you should fill your water bottles and what you should drink by the time you reach each aid station.

However, there's a good chance I drank enough water -- I might have even drank too much. In fact, there are an infinite array of reasons the body might start to cramp. And once it starts, if you don't respond appropriately you can experience a cascade of problems. That's exactly what happened to me.

Panicking, I started downing salt tabs. Instead of taking 1-2 every 30 minutes, which was my original plan, I swallowed an entire handful. I downed a half of bottle of water. I hoped for the best. The problem here was I should have never deviated from my plan.

Eventually the pain in my legs backed off, but by mile 26 there was havoc in my stomach. Massive upset and diarrhea, and nothing I ate seemed to help. I took in some chicken noodle soup and continued homeward.

By the time I met my pacer, Scott Surface, at the Bootjack aid station, I was in massive amounts of pain and could barely extend one foot in front of the other. Rough times at mile 30, and right before hitting some of the hardest peaks and staircases on the course.

To this day I have no idea how I made it to Muir Beach. I found my way to the Port-a-Pottie and locked myself inside for fifteen minutes with the worst stomach cramps I've ever felt. I listened to the wind howl and my best friend Natalie Linden cry out to me from outside the door. "You can't give up now, dawg. You only have ten miles left. Hell, I could run that. And, you'll never forgive yourself. So get out of there and finish this thing. And you gotta do it now."

When I got out of the restroom, I had a steep mountain with three brutal peaks waiting for me to cross. Again, by some miracle, I made it into Tennessee Valley. I did my best to sprint with Scott down the descent. Feeling my feet turn over the way they were supposed to all along made me angry and sad. Why couldn't the whole race been like this?

In Tennessee Valley, tons of people were cheering their heads off for me as I came out of the woods. My family, crew, Jim Vernon, Robert Allen (friend and running mentor), Matt Sterling (my next pacer), my clients, and other runners from the different groups. Most importantly, my coach Rachel had caught up with me. I gave Rachel a hug and told her I thought I had food poisoning and didn't think I could finish the last 8 miles. Rachel looked me in the eyes, smiled, and in no uncertain terms stated: "Oh, you're gonna finish." I realized the only thing more painful than finishing the race would be the hell Rachel and others would let loose upon me if I gave up.

Another runner photographed this rainbow on Marincello Trail at North Face Endurance Challenge, 2010

The hills out of Tennessee Valley are legitimately difficult in the best of times. With tired cramping legs and that queasy, "oh no I think I have food poisoning" sensation surging through your body, the journey becomes a nightmare.

Matt Sterling brought the optimism and confidence I needed to get over the two mile ascent up Marincello Trail and back to Coastal and SCA. At mile 48 I ran into my good friend Mark Holland. Mark didn't seem to be struggling at all, just making his way gradually to the finish line. Getting to connect with him for a little while helped, and made me feel like I was still running a respectable race even though I was far past my goal finish time.

It was dark and windy again now, I had a headlamp strapped to my head and all my clothes were dripping wet. I made it down Rodeo Valley trail to the belly of the valley. I crossed the road and found my sister Michelle waiting, patiently, at the final stretch of the course. I had no idea how long she was there waiting for me, alone. I was an hour and thirty minutes after the time everyone expected me to finish.

I crossed the finish line and ran straight into the arms of family and a friends. Natalie wrapped me in a blanket and held me tight.

At one point my friend Robert, who has helped me get through hundreds of trail miles, told Natalie "This race will be the race that teaches her the most." She shared this with me just as a tremendous feeling of failure and disappointment started to hit my psyche. These words relieved me. I wasn't a loser, my finish time wasn't a failure. This race was my teacher.

We all know these things, but we forget. That the hardest experiences, the times when we feel most vulnerable and stressed, the worst spans and most extreme life changes...these are the times that shape us, make us stronger, make us wise.

This event taught me many things, some spiritual and others practical. Spiritually I learned what I was capable of, and that yet again, it was far more than I ever imagined. While my parents (including my step mom, who is an ICU nurse) had concerns for my health, I felt everyone believed I had the grit to finish.

I also learned a vital lesson about goals. When I told my friend Andrea how crushed I was by not reaching my goal, she looked at me, Buddha-like, and said, "Mmmm, detachment." I said, "Huh?" And she said to me, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You set a goal, then detach." This piece was of the goal-setting process was missing for me until now.

On a practical level, I learned that I needed to better train my stomach to take in fuel and fluids. Whether the cramps were caused by cold or an imbalance in fluids, I definitely had a lackadaisical attitude about nutrition and hydration during my training runs. It's relatively easy at 20, 26, even 30 mile events to get by even if you are dehydrated, bonking, or if you go overboard on water or salt. However there are a myriad of things that can go wrong at a 50 mile event. The only way to truly prepare is to treat your training runs with the same precision as race day.

My training for North Face 2011 started this week, and I've dedicated myself to three goals:

1) Dial in the nutrition. Train my stomach with the same dedication as everything else
2) Put my training program together, and follow it to the best of my ability
3) Run for the joy of running. Relieve myself of the pressure of a goal time

I don't know if I can ever beat my 11:35 finish from my first time running this race. But this year even if I'm not running faster, I'll be running wiser.

2 ingredients, 1 delicious dessert

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 06:24:00 +0000

This summer, Basic Training has enjoyed partnering with a beautifully restored former military hospital turned high-end housing property in the Presidio called the Presidio Landmark. Many of our clients who ran the Presidio 10 race had a chance to check out the space during the training runs we led from their front lawn.

As part of an annual summer wellness series for Presidio Landmark's residents, we developed six weeks of private classes, guest speakers, and unique workshops. Classes include intro to outdoor fitness, circuit training and core conditioning, and a mid-morning hiking yoga class taught by Alex Ho each Sunday.

Guest speakers included yoga instructor Lauren Slater talking about stretches anyone can do to keep their neck and back healthy and pain-free.

We also heard Dan Pardi talk about how to be an "intelligent eater," an "enduring mover" and a "restorative sleeper." He also shared what is currently known about trends in obesity, sleep, and a little about how sleep impacts our decision-making abilities. We predict he will be giving a similar presentation at TED Talks in the near future. You heard it here first.

Tonight's Sunday talk was the third in the series, and it was runner/personal chef Devon Crosby-Helms doing a cooking demonstration about how to make a quick, delicious, and healthy meal with basic and seasonal ingredients.

Our final speaker will be Jon Bonne, wine editor at the San Francisco Chronicle. He will talk about his favorite wines, the local culture of winemaking, and how to replace the two-buck chuck with an affordable wine made by local producers with ethical practices. We may have a few spots available for his tasting and talk, so contact us if you are interested.

What to eat in the morning: overnight oats

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 01:55:00 +0000

I mentioned overnight oats in my post about my Thursday morning Headlands Run, and how they have become my secret weapon for sustained energy for my running. Simply put, you get a great thermos like the one pictured below made by Stanley. You throw some hot water in in to pre-heat. Keep in there five minutes, then recycle water into dog water bowl. Then throw in dry oats, piping hot water, some dried fruit, a little salt, nuts, and anything else you like. Leave overnight. The next morning -- I kid you not -- the oats are cooked completely and piping hot. What to expect? A fast, delicious breakfast that will kick in about 60-90 minutes into your workout.

Put 4 heaping teaspoons of steel cut oats in the thermos with a bunch of boiling water....(lil honey's good too).....wala, next morning fully cooked shit, still hot. Depending on how good your thermos is, you may want to preheat it with some boiling water. Yep, oatmeal is gluten-free, but often not labeled so, as it's processed in places that also do wheat, etc.

Add high grade maple syrup to some steel cut, even better with a sliced banana thrown in.

Devon Crosby-Helms chimes in:
I ate oats before LA, so I am certainly a fan.

I do a similar overnight soak (what they are making is called overnight oats) but I do mine differently. http://devoncrosbyhelms.com/2011/03/nutrition-navigation-taper-week.html. Before LA, I just did oats+almond milk+banana+pb.

I love oats in the morning and pretty much eat them every morning.

Start with the why

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 23:01:00 +0000

This week I found myself really struggling when people asked me to describe what I do for a living. They wanted to know what Basic Training was about, why it was different from other outdoor programs, why someone should choose us over another.

I felt like I completely failed to get to the heart of what I do in both conversations. What makes me leap out if bed to teach class every day. Why people like Elena Sanchez have been coming for three years. Why fifteen people showed up in the rain at 5:50 am this morning to roll around in puddles and sand.

I called Jeff Riddle (who is making his second appearance in the Basic Training blog). Jeff, help. What do I say? He said, "Well, Jenn, it's not about fitness."

Huh?

"I can tell you what I got out of Basic Training, why I went. The way I see it, Basic Training is about community."

Jeff and I have talked about this before, but I always recoiled at the word "community." Today the message finally hit home.

As Jeff said, "You help people connect -- it's just who you are and what you do. You help them connect to each other. Connect with themselves. Connect with nature. Connect with place. You make community. You bring people off their computers and back to humanity. Fitness just happens to be the vehicle."

Human beings are social, we need to feel a bond with those around us. In today's world, we are running out of opportunities to connect with each other in a meaningful way. We clump together in the city, but what do we do? Do we talk, listen, look or interact with each other? No, we put on our iPods when we sit side by side on the bus. We stare into our phones when we're in line at the coffee shop. Coworkers sit in separate cubbies at work, and instead of walking over to talk to each other we text or iChat. Then we go home, log on to match.com, and try to find love. Or we sit on the couch next to our sweetheart and watch a game, "American Idol" or better yet, "The Biggest Loser." Our technology is stunning, but it's cost us a lot.

People also desperately need to connect with themselves. To find balance. To find their center. In our work as trainers we encounter a lot of people who feel a little lost in their life, or thrown off course.

We also see a lot of people who are out of touch with even the most primitive human impulses. Like a sense for when they're hungry, or what they are hungry for. They can't get to sleep and they don't know why. As a population, our systems are chronically dry and dehydrated. But instead of drinking eight glasses of water, we're drinking coffee and applying Burt's Bees lip balm all day.

A lot of people are also in constant pain. Chronic soreness in the neck, shoulders, or low back. Or there are injuries that just never went away. Knees that don't bend all the way. Shoulders that don't fully rotate. People start to think being healthy means staying out of the hospital. Being healthy means being able to do everything we were designed to do.

So we connect people with themselves. To us, that starts with movement. Our bodies are meant to move and when we move them, things start to open up. We start to "be" in our bodies again.

Once we start to move, we start to breathe and feel good. We also start to hear things. Maybe it's a voice inside our head telling us to go faster. Maybe it's "slow down." Maybe it's "hey, this is your shoulder talking. Remember I'm still torn and inflamed? Yeah, from last year. I'm still not ok. I'd love it if you got me worked on a little. In the meantime, no way are you doing any pushups." This is why we are so adamant about helping people resolve old injuries when they crop up again during our workouts.

When people start to move around with others every day, they start to get a sense of what they're capable of and what they're built for. We help them set the bar for their potential, and they discover they are capable of more than they ever imagined. This knowledge builds self esteem, confidence, and power.

We believe people who feel good about themselves, who feel strong, empowered, and connected -- those are the people who lead purpose-driven lives. They know who they are and where they are going. They aren't afraid to take the risks necessary to change the world. Running around like crocodiles in the sand may be the how. But building a group of people who all feel strong, empowered, connected, and free -- that's what brings me joy. That's the why.

A St. Patrick's Day Miracle in the Marin Headlands

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 23:32:00 +0000

It's 5:15 am on St. Patrick's Day.

I am sitting in my car, putting on my trail running shoes in the dark. I'm trying to figure out how I got here, since a half an hour ago I was cozy in bed telling myself:

"You know, it's okay if you don't go."
"You only got four hours of sleep. Rest is important. You don't have to go"
"You had some wine last night, running will be terrible. You don't have to go"
"You ran a lot last week. Seventy miles. That's enough. You don't have to go"
"No one cares if you go."

And that's when I got out of bed.

Something just clicked in my brain, and I realized I was lying to myself. I knew, from the last time I slept through my Thursday morning run, a lot of people care if I go.

These people, for a start, care whether or not I go:

- Trainers Michael and Sandra, who cover my morning class so I can run
- The clients who work out with me and know that on Thursdays I run
- Larissa, Brett, Nathan, Randy, Devon, Charles, and all the other people who I run with
- Neighbor, pro-cyclist, and friend Travis, who also trains before dawn and checks in with me regularly about my training

and, most importantly, I realized that I really care whether or not I run.

In fact, a lot relies on my attendance. The last time I skipped out on my training, here's what happened:

- I had a bad day
- My self esteem tanked all day
- The joy of sleep? Not worth the shame of quitting
- No post-run high that lasts all day
- Missed connecting with the people I like and admire
- Felt like a jerk every time someone asked how my run went

I also told myself these things, which helped catapult me out of bed:

- The reason you don't want to get out of bed is because yesterday was a hard day. Don't let that ruin today. Today is a new day.

- You have no idea what will happen when you're out there. Sometimes the runs that start out the worst, end up being the best.

Lastly, I remembered that Travis gave me a present yesterday. It was a new Thermos, perfectly designed for slow-cooking oatmeal. He showed me how he preps his breakfast for training runs the night before. He warms the Thermos up, adds steel-cut oats and boiling water, and shuts it tight. Magically, the oats cook themselves overnight. In the morning you have piping hot oatmeal, it's delicious, and it's the ideal pre-run fuel.

I put on my running stuff, went to the kitchen, and ate my perfectly hot and delicious oatmeal. Drove to Starbucks, got my coffee, and made it to the meeting spot in the Headlands fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

Lo and behold, it was one of the best twelve mile morning runs I have had in a long time. The oatmeal did the trick. The sunrise was incredible. My running friends, great as usual. When it was over I felt fantastic.

Good luck with your running, everybody.

Every day is a new day.

What Do You Want?

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 01:30:00 +0000

Today I came home to do some work. I had some hard problems to solve about my business operations.

Meanwhile, my dog was running up and down, up and down, up and down my railroad Victorian flat. What the? She's running, barking, running, barking. She's going nuts. I'm going nuts.

I decide to let her out and smell something foul as she leaves. She bolts to the yard, and I think, "Problem solved. Phew."

I walk back inside and look around. Oh my god.

There, across the hall, the couch, the rug, my bedroom was a mess that would make even the most hardened Haz Mat specialist quiver in his orange pantsuit.

All that time my little dog was trying to tell me, "Help! Let me out! I'm sick! I need out!"
What I got was: "Hi! Hi! Hi! Let's play! I'm feeling peppy!"

It made me think: what am I doing, right now?

Am I running around, barking, smiling, reacting, being a crazy person, and chasing my tail?

Or am I being clear in expressing to the people around me exactly what I want?

Do I even know what I want?

Last night I had a drink with a good friend, who is also one of the most successful entrepreneurs I know. She is at a crossroads, one year and a half with her new company, where she's not sure if it's going to make it. As she's telling me about all the things that aren't working, I am nodding my head because I am familiar with some of her struggles. The fear, the uncertainty, the challenges of managing teams, the money draining out faster than it's coming in, the deer in the headlights look in the eye.

"I am so caught up in doing things I don't like to do, I don't have time to go out and look at the world, take pictures, and write. As an artist, these are the things that sustain me."

It struck me even after we talked for an hour, I had no idea what my friend wanted from her company, the market, or her staff. I knew what she didn't want, I knew what wasn't working. But what exactly did she want? Like, besides having more free time? Because I knew she didn't just want to take pictures and stroll around the world every day. She could do that right now if she wanted.

"What do you want?" is the question Mark Gibson, brand strategist, says is the first question he asks his clients. The next is: "Where is the energy stuck?"

Mark says, "Sometimes I have to be careful in how I ask them. The answers can scare them, they have to be ready."

It's interesting how hard it is to look deep into your heart and ask yourself "what do I really truly want?" What happens if the answer doesn't line up with what you're doing, how you've set your life up, or where you are taking the people who rely on you for paychecks, stability, or direction?

My friend Natalie says she realized one night that she has what she calls "the secret wish." It's a wish that flashes into her head, right as she's getting into bed to go to sleep. "I always want it to be 'write a best-selling novel.' That would be a great wish." However, she says, "It's never that. It's always the same thing: to be in a relationship. Goddamn it."

Natalie and I were in this conversation because Andrea, the manager at Lululemon, had arm wrestled me into writing my hopes, dreams, and big hairy audacious goals for next ten years of my life into a document she would be posting in the dressing room of their Union Street store. A place where potentially thousands of women, and occasionally, Brian Wilson of the San Francisco Giants, would be reading about my deepest yearnings in life.

Natalie looked over everything I wrote and said "This is great, dawg. But where's the baby?"

We proceeded to spend many glasses of wine deciding if I would be truly ok with the next decade of my life if there wasn't a baby in it.

"Just make sure your secret wish isn't to have a baby. Because if it is, and you haven't written it down on this page, it's not gonna happen."

So, world, here is what I want:

- I want to run a successful, mixed-use studio space in Hayes Valley, Chestnut, or South Park that is the "Blue Bottle Coffee" of fitness: great quality product (or in my case, a service), low cost but beautifully designed space, hip, edgy, and addictive. People line up for it. Having us around brightens an alley and improves the value of the neighborhood. We are profitable. The business model is so well thought out that it's easy to replicate and grow.

- I want to be work closely with the city to implement ways to make it easier for people to run, jump, and exercise outdoors, both in parks and throughout the urban environment. Especially in areas that are currently unsafe and under-served from a health and fitness point of view. I want people who need the benefits of exercise the most to have information, access, and opportunity -- even if they can't afford a gym or running shoes.

- I'd like to organize a 5k race in each neighborhood, where the streets are shut down (like the "City Streets" program). With a championship race at the end where all neighborhoods compete. All proceeds from the events go to support local businesses, bike paths, "park-lettes", and the SF Parks and Rec program.

- I want to feel more comfortable when potential clients and press call me on the phone

- I want to have 20-30 clients registered for each class on our current schedule and an easy, clear automated way of handling their registration process

- I want each of our instructors to be rock stars who pack their classes

- I want the press to talk about us the way our clients talk about us to their friends. This buzz would increase the exposure of our program so that everyone in the Bay Area would know who we are and how we can help change their life for the better.

- I want to join forces with the best yoga instructors, meditation teachers, life coaches, psychologists, and sleep specialists to offer people a week-long immersion into what each of us do best.

- I want to publish a beautifully designed newsletter and blog that reaches thousands of readers, near and far, delighting, inspiring, and helping them work towards the best version of themselves every day.

- I want a scooter, a new bike, and a safe place to keep them at night.

- I want time to see more bands play, to cook and see films and plays with friends.

- I want to afford to leave the city for adventures in New York, LA, Palm Springs, Utah, Alaska, Colorado, Mexico, South America, Africa, Asia, Europe.

-I want to run in Antarctica and other extreme climates, and be sponsored by a company like Lululemon, Salomon, North Face, or Patagonia so I don't freeze my ass off the whole time.

And, yes...

- I want to be in a warm and cozy relationship. That may or may not come with a car seat.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 01:12:00 +0000

I'm loving a book right now by Haruki Murakami called "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running."

It's got me thinking a lot about my long distance running, the conversations I have about it, and people's questions and reactions to it.

A lot of people ask me how I started. It's not like I woke up one morning and decided to run fifty miles.

It's more like one day a quiet inner voice simply suggested I had it in me. Murakami said he experienced the same thing.

For months, I ignored the little voice (I mean, wouldn't you?)

Then I finally listened. I got out of my own way, and took the plunge.

I did some "research"-- which really just meant talking to people I could trust with this crazy thought. I chose these people carefully, because i really felt vulnerable admitting I wanted to run that far. It was oddly the same nervous, scared, "you have to be kidding me" feeling I had when I decided to quit my job at Apple, and again when I decided to start my own company.

In retrospect, I realized I was looking for someone to give me permission, or at the very least, a blessing.

I received both from my good friend Robert Allen, who gave me a training plan, helped me pick races, and taught me how to eat and hydrate for my running. He also inspired me to give up alcohol during training, which was tough.

A lot of people told me I was crazy, so proving them wrong became quite motivating also.

It doesn't really matter who or what catapults you into action.

The important thing is that you commit. That you throw yourself in and surrender to the unknown.

Ideally, it's something 100% foreign to you -- something where you have no idea what the outcome will be, and the right path is completely uncertain as well.

Man, is it exhilarating.

In the process, you will cultivate two very important relationships with yourself.

The first is your relationship with your word. I promised myself I would run a certain amount every week. No one would know or care if I went. I had to have a conversation about commitment with myself every single morning for months. The more I trained, the harder these conversations became.

The second is your relationship with surrender. "Holy f____. I have no idea how I am going to ____." You don't have to strap a bungee cord on your ankle from the top of a bridge to feel the thrill of letting go in your life. I sense it among the newbies in my classes at the start of every six-week session of bootcamp.

In her book about the benefits of exercising outdoors (versus the gym) Tina Vindum brings up how being outside can help us break certain thought patterns that bog us down in our daily lives. We often churn the same three thoughts over and over again -- we make plans, we re-live experiences, and we pass judgments. Over and over again. Once you start noticing your thoughts in this way, you'll be amazed how little time you spend thinking about anything else.

She thinks the outdoors is a great place for fitness because it forces us to focus while encouraging calmness and deep breathing, which can lead to a meditative state.

During early morning trail runs with my classes we have to watch how we step and move. We develop laser-like focus for the tasks at hand. There are rocks, holes, tree branches, mud, puddles -- you name it. This type of concentration develops proprioception, which is another way of saying having a sharp sense of where your body is in space. One of my strengths as an athlete is having the proprioception of an elite runner.

Through the repetition of running and focusing on your path, your breathing eventually falls into a rythym. It may take a little while to get comfortable, but eventually you will.

Also, it's easy when you're indoors all the time to take for granted how awe inspiring it is to be outside. Sunrise and sunset, the change in seasons, the weather, the horizon line, the crashing of waves, the symphony of sounds and the play of light and shadow. We marvel at these things on many levels, including our sub-conscious.

Create quiet space in your life. Open enough for contemplation. Quiet enough to hear the little voices. The ones who tell you to risk something, or to do something crazy.

Like taking the trip of a lifetime, for example, chartering a sailboat in Turkey or going on a yoga retreat in Mexico.

Maybe it's something dangerous that seems important, like going to Haiti or New Zealand to help people.

Lately my friend Jeff Riddle's inner voice has been telling him "Eat more kale." Who knew? He's also walking every day, sleeping well, not eating much meat, studying Buddhism, working less but still earning a good living, and healthier, stronger, and leaner than he's been in years.

I have no idea what your quiet inner voice is going to tell you to do.

I do know it will be easier to hear your inner voice after savasana. Or during an morning walk, especially if you go every day. Or if you're running with friends in a place that's wild, beautiful, open, and free.

And if you have ever told someone they were "crazy" for waking up early to go running, joining a bootcamp, leaving a job, or diving into Aquatic Park without a wetsuit...maybe there's a quiet little voice inside saying it's you who needs to man up, stop judging, and do something crazy.

Maybe start with kale?

what is natalie doing here?

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 00:13:00 +0000

Jenn has asked me to describe what the hell I’m doing here.

First off, I believe I’m nursing a hangover.

I am also modeling my beloved Basic Training hoodie.

Thirdly, I am demonstrating my need for new running pants. (What’s with all the extra fabric in the front there?? Who let me leave the house like that?)

But moreover, I am wielding a foam roller to stretch out my IT bands. As with many ladies out there, I tend to suffer knee pain when I run, due to our inconvenient hip-to-knee geometry. Rolling out my IT bands before and after running helps my knee joints track correctly, preventing injury, pain, etc etc.

Thank god Jenn taught me this trick, because for a while there I thought I was going to have to give up running. And that woulda made me one crazy bitch.

Great Workouts, #1: Legion of Honor

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Sun, 24 May 2009 22:48:00 +0000

My client Christian Kash and I discovered a great workout spot one morning when we were on our way to Baker Beach.

Just behind the Legion of Honor is a parking lot and a trail head. This trail connects to the Land's End trail. Right at the point where it connects, there is a wide open space where the trail crew is hauling away old rocks, fence posts, and concrete pylons. All of these objects make great weights for resistance workouts. There is also a park bench with an amazing view of the ocean and Golden Gate Bridge. Here's how you can get a fantastic full-body workout using common objects that a lot of people might think were piles of rubble.

Legs: 2 minutes side-to-side squats using long flat concrete blocks

Chest: 2 pushups with feet on block

Shoulders: 20 press-ups with large circular log. This is a partner exercise. Lift straight up and set down on opposite shoulder, repeat 20 times alternating shoulders each time.

Triceps: 20-30 dips on the bench. You can add a heavy rock on your lap for added resistance (15-30 pounds)

Run back and forth carrying a large log 15-25 pound. You can carry it in a "Fireman's Carry" Over your shoulder.

Rear delts: hold 5-8 pound rocks in hands, fold over at the waist, and press back with the rocks in a V-shaped formation.

Biceps: Using a resistance band, do 20 reps of hard curls.

Abs: Russian Twists using a heavy rock, 1-2 minutes.

Repeat whole set of exercises 2-3 times.

Baker Beach Run

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Sun, 24 May 2009 22:45:00 +0000

At the end of every six week session, we take the class on a long run. Usually we can cover about 5-7 miles on our last day. Andy and Caitlin discovered, when they went looking for class after pulling in late to the meeting point, that it's possible to run all the way to Baker Beach, hit the sand ladder, and run back to the Exploratorium within an hour. It's been our end-of-session run ever since. Nice job, Andy and Caitlin!

Videos We Like

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 19:38:00 +0000

Most of these we do in class, but it's always nice to see them again. You can download them to your iPod from the Nike Running website. Enjoy!

Lunge Warm-Up

Leg Strengthening: Hip Area

Back Strengthening

Core + Shoulder Strength

Ab / Obliques / Legs with Medicine Ball

Jennifer Pattee
Basic Training

Six ways to Help Muscle Soreness

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 18:06:00 +0000

You wake up in the morning and your body feels like a ton of bricks. Your walk up the stairs has turned into a bear crawl. You don't want to move. What's happening here? I thought exercise was supposed to make me feel great?

The short answer is: be patient. If this is your first bootcamp, it will take about three weeks before your body becomes used to the type of exercise we do. It's probably slightly harder and more intense than the workouts you're used to. Plus, if you have not worked out at this level for awhile, it will take some time for your body to adapt. Stick with it, be consistent, and you will get there soon.

When you exert yourself, either from cardiovascular exercise or resistance training, your muscles experience a tiny tearing in the tissue as they contract. Those tears heal, with the help of amino acids, and as they heal they create scar tissue, which accumulates, and eventually turns into muscle definition.

In time your body will become efficient at repairing itself, but usually there is some discomfort during the first three weeks of a new exercise program.

Here are a few ways to reduce soreness:

1. Immediately after your workout, eat protein, carbs, fat. Up to an hour after a workout, your muscles are most receptive for receiving nutrients, and primarily you want to feed them protein. A turkey sandwich. Salad with chicken, small bread on the side with olive oil. In a pinch: chocolate milk or a protein shake. Coconut water is also a great post-workout recovery drink.

2. Move around. Circulation helps your body get blood flow to your muscles to repair the tissue. A short, easy jog can help a lot.

3. Stretch. As your muscles become sore, you will be tempted to sit on the couch and not move. Or sit in your chair at work and not move. Don't become sedentary on your off-days. Take a hot shower, then stretch your hamstrings, quads, hips, and shoulders. The absolute best way to stretch and increase your flexibility: yoga. It's a runner's best friend. I *highly* recommend Lauren Slater's Saturday classes at Yoga Tree. 11:00 AM @ Stanyan Street. 4:30 PM at Valencia Street. Go. She also teaches Thursday during the day.

4. Epsom salt bath. Espom salts can help with muscle recovery

5. Try Arnica (homeopathic anti-imflammatory tablets or cream found at Rainbow or Whole Foods).

6. Get a massage from a therapist with experience working with athletes. One I return to again and again is Therapeia, on Bush between Laguna and Octavia (415.885.4450) Ask for Dean, and be prepared to wait two weeks for an appointment.

7. Acupuncture. Can help stimulate chi or energy flow in your body, which speeds healing and recovery. It can also help with falling asleep, feeling energized, and getting over colds, sore throat, and flu.

Don't miss class because you are feeling sore.

Jennifer Pattee, Basic Training

Sometimes Raining Mornings Turn into This

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 02:40:00 +0000

Ten Reasons to Go Running in the Rain

noreply@blogger.com (buddy + bean) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 02:30:00 +0000

10. It's not as bad as it seems as it is when you are in bed trying to decide how bad it is. Rain ALWAYS seems worse from your bedroom.

9. You have the roads and trails to yourself

8. It's beautiful on the trails

7. It smells extra nice outside

6. It's a great time to run across the Golden Gate Bridge

5. The health benefits of exercise: they still happen when its raining out

4. Movies on the couch and showers feel so much better after a run or workout

3. You will warm up. Especially if you are wearing the right clothes: think windproof zipper jackets (i like the Saloman jacket i found at Sports Basement) combined with the Lululemon baselayer running tshirt and the nylon crop pants from Patagonia. All of these are lightweight, breathable, and most importantly, not cotton.

2. It's a bonding experience if you workout with friends

1. It makes you feel like a kid again. I swear.