Downs and Ups!

Matt will tell you – I didn’t want to blog, today.  “But, you have to!” He told me as he got into his car and sped away from South Mountain. 

Yesterday was a moment of defeat, a marathon runner’s worst nightmare.  I got up, got ready and headed into the darkness for my last long run of the training season.  After this weekend – its taper city.  I had 20-21 planned and was eager to see if my times from all of the weeks prior would hold true. 

At mile 9, I glanced at my watch: 1:28:40 – “yep, I’m still holding on,” I thought.  At mile 13: 2:08 – still solidly under a 10 minute mile with all of the lights; and it seemed like I’d hit every single light on this run.  At mile 16 I was in uncharted territory, running on uneven gravel with almost no room for me and the oncoming traffic.  It was discouraging for sure – and I knew it might cost me some time.  By mile 17, I was bored and on the canal running north knowing I only had a wee bit to go.  But, I was just about out of water and started to really stress about it.  The last 3 miles sans water could simply ruin everything.  I searched for a park area, hoping for a fountain as I ran, but nothing.  Finally, I was off the canal and headed back west toward Anne’s house when my watch beeped 18 miles.  For the first time in a long time, I was becoming pretty miserable – my mind was telling me to quit, my heart was no longer into the run and my water was gone.  And then it happened, at 18.9 miles, my Achilles/soleus on my right leg pinged HUGE pain – in a matter of seconds.  And, I panicked.  I stopped running and decided that I was just over a mile from Anne’s and should NOT push it any further.  I simply have to be able to complete the Philly Marathon in 3 weeks and that one mile could have been the difference between being able to – and not. 

Depressed, I texted my mom, Matt and Anne.  I took no post-run-smiling-shot and tearfully walked my way back to Anne’s house where Anne stood waiting for me with Miss Lyla in her arms.  As I approached, Lyla stretched out her arms and we embraced.  It was going to be ok – it had to be. 

As I stood in Anne’s frigid pool, John, Sean, Lyla and Anne chatted with me about “other” things, in an effort to keep my mind off the worry of my right calf/Achilles.  Sean is always fascinated that I will stand in the ice cold water with my clothes on.  My body temperature was so high that I found myself heating up the small section of the pool really quickly – which just meant I needed to move around to get the benefit of the “icing”.  I was depressed…and worried. 

Shortly thereafter, Loretta, Anne and I met for a girls brunch.  Each year, we watch the IronMan World Championships in Kona, together.  There is nothing quite like watching the hardest athletic feat in the world while sipping mimosas with two of my favorite people.  This year’s footage was good, but nowhere near as good and emotional as last year’s.  This year’s was mostly about the elite athletes – with a smattering of non-pro-stories.  We enjoyed it, as always, and cried at the end – its so impressive and so amazing, one cannot help but get choked up seeing all of those athletes line up with hopes of finishing by midnight. 

Drink #1 post-run at BLD for Brunch

Matt and I emailed a few times that morning – mostly in an attempt to help me refocus and stop dwelling on the fear.  In one of our exchanges he said “I will ride (tomorrow) regardless, you can decide up to the last minute whether you will or not.”  “Tomorrow” (which is now today) is Silent Sunday – a day of the month I look forward to more than just about any other.  I wrote back, “I need tomorrow’s ride more than you.”

So at 6am this morning, we met in the darkness – heading out to the summit.  I apologized for my lingering foul mood and explained that I brought my music so we could simply meet at the top, if necessary. 

3 miles into the ride, I passed my friend, Kris, on foot – finishing her 6-7 mile run.  It was definitely impressive to see she had attempted nearly a mile of the summit road.  It was good that she shouted my name, as I was unsure (in the darkness) if it was even her.

Matt remained in front of me for a HUGE chunk of the ride to the Summit.  It’s 7+ miles up and I was seriously worried he would get bored waiting for me when I finally got there.  I read his blog – I know what he is capable of.  However, I also know he almost threw up on our Friday ride as he pushed uber hard on one of the hills in Ahwatukee.  So, I thought I might have a chance of not losing him. 

The road was quiet, save a few runners here and there.  And, Matt remained 1/10^th of a mile in front of me for about 4 miles.  And, then we hit one of the steeper hills, and I gained a little.  Another steep section, and I gained a little more.  The moment I started to smell his deodorant (I know…sounds creepy, but honestly, when you work that hard all of your senses are heightened – so I appreciate that he wears good smelling deodorant – and that he thinks to apply it before we ride), I knew I might be able to ride with him for a bit. 

I pulled up next to him at the next steep section and smiled.  He said, “I am working HARD, Mer.”  Unsure what to say, because I felt really strong/good, I looked at the runner in front of us and said, “So is she!”  It was then that all of the cards were stacked.  I could hear Matt breathing and all I could think was, “will he get mad if I pass him?  Should I stay right here next to him?”  But, in the last mile of the ride to the top, the steepest section can kill anyone’s will to ride/live.  And, I pulled ahead – I wanted it over.  I glanced over my shoulder once and saw him only a few bike lengths back, but I knew I had this one. 

I hit the Summit first.  I hate to have a celebration moment knowing how hard it is to do.  But, moving ahead of Matt on the bike at any point when we ride is FREAKIN’ HARD!  He is such a strong rider.  But, this was my morning.  As we circled at the top, we smiled as we caught our respective breaths.  And, I rubbed salt in the wound by saying, “I can’t believe I was able to do that after running 19 miles, yesterday.”  Matt just laughed and said something like, “Oh, thanks for reminding me of that, as well!”  I was proud and I know Matt was proud, even if beating himself up a little bit at the same time. 

Proud moment at the top!

Both of us -- at the Summit

Matt turned his bike around and started to fly down the mountain.  Little-Miss-Safety-Girl simply cannot take the turns at those speeds – and sadly, I may never be able to.  I could see him gaining greater and greater distance on the descent.  I have no idea how long he was waiting at the bottom for me, but as I approached the base of the mountain, without a word, he turned and headed to San Juan Road – another tough 6 mile ride. 

I knew the defeat at the top was something he was considering as I followed him down San Juan.  Just before we hit the turn around, I caught up to him and he admitted that he had been “chicked” by me on the Summit.  So, yes – Matt and I are very similarly competitive and I knew exactly where his brain was at that moment.  (Matt was thinking…NEVER AGAIN and CERTAINLY NOT FOR THE REMAINDER OF THIS RIDE.) 

There was no rest or words at the top/turn around of San Juan – Matt just turned around and went down and I followed.  I struggled to keep up with him for the entirety of the 3+ mile ride back to the Summit/San Juan split.  He took over that ride and I didn’t have any way to catch up with him.  Trust me when I tell you I tried – but no matter how much my legs were giving, his legs were giving just that much more.  I wasn’t far behind, but I was far enough that it was his moment and not mine. 

We sailed to the parking lot together, laughing about how competitive we are.  I took the first leg and he the second.  It was an unbelievable morning. 

As we approached our cars, I was grinning from ear to ear.  “I needed that!” I told Matt.  He just smiled and we put our gear in our respective cars.  Seemed almost like redemption from the failed run/Achilles. 

In the parking lot -- feeling super accomplished (both of us)!

Its really so nice that I have friends like Matt who really really “get” me.  Could be a pretty boring existence without them!

PR, PR...complete with minor injury

Before I pour myself a second glass of wine, I figure I should probably start my weekly blog.  Its amazing how unmotivated I am (occasionally) to do so, but tonight is one of those nights.
  
Strangely, I had another great week of consistent workouts.  I was fortunate to get a smidge of Matt’s time on Monday morning.  So instead of my usual swim, I went out for a short ride with him in my neighborhood.  He had JUST returned from his trip with Mickey Mouse to the Caribbean and immediately left on Monday afternoon for a business trip to Chicago.  He complained of drinking and eating like a PIG so I expected to kick his ass on the ride – but um… whatever, Matt…I was absolutely demoralized on the mere 10 mile ride we took through the less-than-impressive-section of the foothills.

Short but sweet ride on Monday morning!

7.5 mile run on Tuesday – and my times were decent – 9:31 overall pace.  It was after that run that I started to think that maybe I really am getting better and more consistent.

By the light of the house....

I swam on Wednesday and it was absolutely one of THE best days I have ever had in the pool.  When I arrived at the gym there was one guy in the pool – and he had chosen the center lane.  Never wanting a lane with a wall, I opted to swim in the lane directly to the right of him.  I hadn’t been in the pool in over a week because of my trip to St Louis, so I was feeling pretty fresh and ready to duke out 2000 meters.  The guy in the pool needed lessons – that was evident.  I felt rather bad for him.  He had the strength necessary to pull out some nice distance, but his form was embarrassing.  (I know, I know…who the hell am I to judge someone else’s form.)

Anyway, I hopped in and started to swim.  After about 400 meters in, I realized I was going to lap the poor guy.  Strangely, the moment he realized what was about to happen, he sped up – substantially – but it was futile.  I knew he couldn’t maintain that speed and within 25 meters, he was behind me.  Around the 875 meter mark, I realized I was about to lap him again – and once again, he pushed HARD to keep me from hitting the wall before him and moving a full 100 meters ahead.  But, I did and left him behind.  It was only about 300 meters later that it happened AGAIN and the poor guy struggled and pushed, but he was getting much.   I moved past him quietly in an attempt  to move past him with a diligence that would keep his humiliation at a minimum.  But, then I thought “holy crap, this guy is still going at it – and he was in the pool before I ever arrived.  For such lousy form, this dude is working hard – and hasn’t drowned.”  But, like clockwork, I passed him again at the 1750 meter mark and I thought he might quit.  NOPE.  And, now I was more motivated than ever.  How could I quit at 2000 meters when I could lap the guy – again!?  And, at 2050 meters, he pushed to beat me, and lost again.  250 meters ahead of him, I pushed out another 200 meters and got out of the pool with some of my best times to date.  I appreciated the competition – it really pushed me to work harder.  I left and he remained – so, I may have been ahead of him in meters, but he kicked my ass in endurance, for sure!

Thursday was my first trail run since the fall.  It was fine – but the trail was riddled with mountain bikers.  Several were in my way in very narrow passages, so I found myself pulling off the course to allow them by.  About ¼ mile after I’d hit the turn around, I was in one of the steepest, narrowest passages, when I saw the headlamp of a mountain biker and I panicked a bit.  Fortunately, about ¼ of the way up the passage, I realize that the biker saw me and was waiting at the top for me to pass.  As I approached the biker a woman’s voice complimented my distance and asked how my trail-run had been that morning.  I complimented her on knowing the trail well enough to wait at the top of that section – she was more than gracious and I was more than grateful!  I hope I don’t offend anyone by saying –  but female athletes are so warm and kind on the roads and trails.

No falling this week!

Thinking about my long run on Saturday, I opted to take Friday morning off in preparation for my 14 miler.

The weather in Phoenix is PERFECT, right now.  I didn’t need to wake up at 4:15am, which was especially nice since I had an unexpected friend show up at my door with a bottle of wine at 8pm, the night before.  But, after a decent night’s sleep, I was up at 5:30am and out the door by 6!  Running is always a nice excuse to make visitors flee at reasonable hours!
I told Anne to expect me around 8:20am; it was only 14 miles, after all.  Even though, I had breakfast plans with another co-worker, Anne was gracious enough to agree to still drive me home after my run – this way I didn’t have to do loops to my house and instead I could hit the flat roads all the way to Chandler.

Honestly, the run was pretty uneventful.  Somewhere around mile 8, my calf started to feel a little wonky, but I thought it might work itself out after another mile or so.  At mile 9 I was still pretty aware of this lower calf twinge, so I looked at my watch to see my pace.  9 miles…1:25.  At that moment I realized my pace was better than ever and that I just needed to maintain it.  Attempting to NOT think about the weirdness going on in my lower right calf, I glanced at my watch every mile only to see that I was still maintaining a better pace than I ever thought possible.  At the ½ marathon point, I was at 2:06:10 – a new Personal Record.  And I worked to maintain it – 14 miles in 2:15!  My best time, ever!  I am still pacing to hit my marathon goal.  I was on cloud 9 for most of the morning…

One proud gal!

See!!!  The 9:46 was the last mile - overall pace was 9:39/mile!

…until I realize the lower calf pain was not actually subsiding.  I continue to ice it and take ibuprophen, but will probably refrain from my running this week in order to help it heal.  I’ve had this before – its an overuse of the tendon and muscle area and only takes a couple of days to heal – provided I DO NOT run on it in the meantime.  And, after sitting in a movie theatre that afternoon with my friend, David, it was tighter than ever.  (sad face)

Ice pack, baby -- my new Best Friend!

Matt sent me an email Saturday evening detailing his hopeful bike workouts for the week.  I was worried a little about my lower calf, but I also knew that the muscle groups required for cycling are complimentary to running, but almost never the same groups.  So, when I met Matt at 3pm today for a 20+ mile ride, I warned him of the injury and my fears.  The ride was completely fine on the calf – but the winds annihilated me.  Once again, Matt showed me how much of a better rider he is than I.  I was feeling pretty defeated at the ½ way mark, but Matt looked strong so I decided to suck it up and push through as much as I could.  Matt remained in front of me several bike lengths for the majority of the 20 miles.  I think he does it to remind me that I HAVE to get a new bike – I have to at least level the playing field.  That’s ok; I know he’s right.  Soon!

As we pulled into Matt’s driveway the entire Ashcraft clan was out in the front yard.  Cole was on some very cool looking better-than-big-wheel thingy and (in typical 10 year old girl form) Brooke was complaining about something.  Baby Alex, the fabulous kid they foster, was on a blanket in the drive way until he saw Matt approach on the bike and he crawled like he had a motorized diaper to Matt, who was getting off his bike.

We tried to include Alex in our post-ride pic, but it simply was not going to happen.  However, Alex was impressed with the reverse camera feature for a 1/10th of a second and I captured this moment.  Good enough for me!

Cutie patootie finally saw himself in the camera!

More on the calf injury, soon – next weekend holds my last really long run, so I am going to nurse this potential injury to ensure I can pull it out in a timely fashion!

I believe...

This week hasn’t been without its challenges – but I promise to get to that in a few paragraphs.  This week was also a bit like the past several: a 2000 meter swim on Monday, and a great 7.5 mile training run on Tuesday (with a 9:28 pace, too).

Its was still pretty dark, so I positioned myself close to the lamp on my house!

By Wednesday morning, it had been a full week since Matt and I did our last bike ride – so I was excited to hop on my bike for a tough, hilly ride through Ahwatukee.  Without Matt on the ride, however, I knew the light on the front of my bike would do very little to illuminate the path in front of me.  His light is FAR better, so I opted to use my headlamp in addition to my front light to see if it made much difference.  It did – and 18.5 hilly miles later, I was pleased with an AVS of 17.4 mph.

Good thing I had no idea just how goofy I looked while riding!

The challenge of the week began on Thursday morning – yep, the trail run.  I had been out the night before at a concert and didn’t get home until shortly after 11pm.  This meant that my sleep would be cut short, which may have contributed to the challenging morning.  I set my alarm for nearly an hour later than usual, since instead of heading into the office, I was heading to the airport for a conference in St Louis around 9:30am.  As I made my way to the usual trailhead (the Desert Classic), there was rain on my windshield.  Certain I was mistaken, I carried on.  I parked, donned my headlamp and began my usual 6 mile trek up and down the Desert Classic trail.  You all know how well I know this trail, now.  Even in the dark, it doesn’t pose a problem anymore.  But – the rain was light and consistent for the first mile of the trail.  Mile two is where the elevation really becomes a bitch and I have to watch my footing with every step.  I guess I failed myself as I made my way up – without much notice, I went face-first on a very rocky area.  My hands were torn up and my right knee a bloodied mess.

Not sure what to do and not sure how injured I really was, I started to walk back down the trail thinking it was over and I would need to walk back to the trailhead (approx. 1.7 miles away).  However, as I moved, I realized that I twisted nothing and that the knee and hands were merely bruised and torn.  So, like the badass I always try to be, I turned around, changed my attitude about my injuries and continued right back up the trail, completing all 6 miles with my best time in months.  (I blame the decent times on the amount of adrenaline expunged as a result of the flesh I left on the side of South Mountain.)   I, honestly, forgot about the injury for 3-4 miles until I came face to face with 3 hikers who gasped at the mess covering my right knee and shin.  I looked down and realized that gravity had not been on my side and I looked FAR worse than I felt.

And...there she is!

Naturally, I took Friday off due in part to the injury and in part to the 20 miler I knew I would be punching out on Saturday morning.  However, when I awakened on Friday morning, my knee was stiff, disgusting to view and black-n-blue like you cannot even imagine.  Even my left knee was black and blue.  I was more of a mess than I realized on Thursday.  And, I began to stress about the 20 mile run ahead of me.

Mom picked me up from the Conference Hotel on Friday evening and took me to dinner with my brother, Michael, and beautiful Grandmother.  I had sent her the map for my run that morning to get her take on it and she asked if (after dinner) I would like to drive the route to make sure I knew where I was headed – 20 miles is 20 miles, even if its in my childhood neighborhood.  A lot had changed since I lived, played and drove the area – new roads, new neighborhoods…new everything.  What I learned from the drive is that my home town isn’t called Fairview Heights because of its even elevation – and I began to worry about the difficult rolling hills and ridiculous climbs along the route I had planned.  By the time we had completed our journey around Fairview, Belleville and Caseyville, I was miserable – and made the decision to simply complete two 10 mile loops in the Fairview-Belleville area.

I went to bed in my mom’s house on Friday night seriously worried about my knee.  It felt like surface bruising, but the stiffness from the scabrous areas made for a challenging mental state.  I turned on the TV to watch Game 5 of the Cards-Nationals pennant race, but fell asleep when the Nationals were up 4-0 over my beloved Cards.  This was not a game worth watching!

By the time I had awakened, the Cards had come back to win the game 9-7!  I had a new outlook on the morning.  If they could come back from a deficit, so could I – and I prepared myself for 20 miles of hills and humidity (55 degrees, 100% humidity).

It is SO very different to run routes you are unfamiliar with, but it’s a wonderful way to get used to what it will probably feel like on marathon morning.  New smells, new elevations, new scenery, new temperature variations.  The really cool thing about this particular run was that I was able to get an up-close view of a town I used to call home.

As I passed mile 9, I remembered the first time I had made my way around town in my new-to-me-Honda-Civic-stickshift.  I had arrived at the very stopsign that gave me trouble 22 years ago – as I cried in the driver’s seat, unable to figure out how to get the car in gear at a stopsign, heading uphill.  A nice man, behind me in a truck, got out of his truck (realizing my newness at a standard transmission) and told me just to roll into his bumper and he would give me a push until I could negotiate the clutch and first gear.  I chuckled thinking about that moment.  I also passed what used to be “Dew’s Frozen Fantacy” – my first job, and I laughed thinking about how dumb the owner was for thinking Fantasy was spelled with a “c” and not an “s”.  A witty customer once told us to tell the smarter-cliental that it was intentional – that the “cy” was for “custard and yogurt”.  I am sure David Dew used that until he sold the business to some savvier custard and yogurt shop owner ten years later.  (It’s an ice-cream shop, now.)

I wasn’t interested in my times – until I hit mile 18 and realized I was exactly where I had been the week prior.  My times remained as consistent as ever – even with the hills, even with the humidity and even with the knee.  And, just before mile 19, I glanced to my left and saw my mom in her car, excited that had made it so far successfully.  I put one finger in the air and screamed, “Only One More, Ma!  Only One More!!”  She drove off smiling, agreeing to meet me back at the house.

As I turned onto my childhood street, I grinned all the way to my mom’s house.  And, like kismet, my watch beeped “20 miles” mere feet from her driveway.  My watch read “3:21:16” – but as I plugged my watch into my laptop moments ago, my real time (without stoplights) was 3:20:05 – a solid 10 minute mile!  I am beside myself – pleased!  I am starting to believe in myself, again…  

In front of Mom's house - please as can be!

Gram treated me to breakfast at Eckerts Farm after my run; I love this place so much!

Inspiration is everywhere...

After last week’s whirlwind of hard and over-done workouts, I decided to take things a smidge easier, this week – given I knew I had an 18 mile run at the end of the weekend.

So, rather than a HUGE swim on Monday morning, I opted to simply take it easy for 1500 meters and get out of the pool right after.  I didn’t do my usual P90X Ab Ripper following the pool – since my abs were already pretty wrecked from the Trapezing on Friday night.

And, like clockwork, I pushed out a really awesome 6 mile run on Tuesday morning – with a sub 9:30 pace.  I really wanted to go for 7-8 miles, but reminded myself at mile 2 that I can go faster-shorter so that I improve my times – and it appeared to work.

See -- still dark and moonlit even at the end of the run, these days.

Matt and I took it somewhat easy on Wednesday morning.  I say that, as I was humiliated on the hills, this week.  After blogging about only being one bike length behind him on most of the hills – Matt must have decided that Wednesday was his opportunity to kick things into high gear and smoke the crap out of me.  Had it not been for his flashing tail-light in the darkness, its entirely possible I might not have been able to see him a couple of times on the ride.  So, with that in mind, I hope he’s getting fat and lazy on his cruise to the Caribbean, this week (or wherever it is that his Disney boat takes him).

It was also still dark here, so Matt told me to turn the phone around to make sure we had the flash -- so this was taken old-school My-Space-style.

I had a better than usual trail run on Thursday – and since its my favorite workout every week, I was really pleased.  It seems to be getting much darker for much more of the morning, so my headlamp stayed on for nearly 4 of the 6 miles.  I know the route so well now, however, that I could probably get by without it were it not for all the rocks and steep elevation moments.  Regardless – I cut 90 seconds off my time from the week before, so I am hopeful my glutes are getting stronger and better capable of hitting the hard climbs.  I was telling my running buddy, Ron, this week, in fact – that I can’t wait to finish marathon training so that I can run all 9.25 miles of the Desert Classic Trail – rather than a mere 3 miles out and 3 miles back.

Post-trail-run!

Friday I was planning to ride, but considering how much I had overdone it the week prior, I opted to hit the pool for 1700 meters, instead.  I am glad I did because my calves were feeling super heavy and thick.  In fact, I awakened twice in the night on Friday night of Charlie horses.  No fun at all!

So, after wisely taking Saturday as a rest day, I awakened to my alarm at 4:15am refreshed and somewhat excited for the 18 miles in front of me.  My goal – 3 hours.  Once again, I told Anne I didn’t need her assistance, save making sure I got a hot meal and coffee after the run.
 
As I headed out into Ahwatukee, I thought about the inspiring conversation I had with my good friend, Pat, before closing my eyes for the night.  I was lamenting about the fact that I am so focused on hitting my times.  He was encouraging and rational.  “Mer, you sound like me, tonight.  And, what would you say to me if I complained about my times?”  I told him, “I would tell you – you’re running 18 miles, so Shut It.”  His response?  “OK, so Shut It, Mer!”  And, there I was hitting the pavement thinking only about finishing rather than the 3 hour marker I’d hoped I’d hit.

The first hour went by without much notice and right around mile 7, the song “See the Sun” by Dido came on my iPod.  All I could think about was my good friend, Lisa.  She’s had a tough couple of days and I am including it in my blog, so she knows I love her and have had her in my thoughts non-stop since Friday.  This is for you, love.



Around mile 9, I checked my Garmin to see how I was doing on time.  The sun was beginning to rise and I knew I’d be pulling down my shades within a mile or so.  My watch read “1:28:40” – I was doing well, sub 10 min miles for nearly an hour and a half.  I continued to be pleased and remained focused on the second half of the run.

By mile 14 I could feel my legs and motivation waning.  I kept thinking, “Come on, Mer, only 4 miles left.”  I had recently taken some Gu and it was beginning to do its thing, but nothing helps you overcome that desire for it to simply be over.  As I turned the corner at mile 16, knowing I only had 2 miles left, I passed a guy on his roadbike.  As he approached, he smiled at me and gave me an extended-arm-thumbs-up.  Strangely, its like he knew I needed it.  I glanced at my watch and realized I’d need to really step up the pace if I was going to be close to the 3 hour mark – and I did.  I pushed and pushed and pushed and when I stopped my watch shortly before arriving at Anne’s house, it read 3:01:12 – for 18 miles.  I’ll take it!  As much as I’d like to complain about missing the mark by 13 lousy seconds, it took everything in me to push out a 9:30 in the last mile to make up a little time.  I can taste the 4:30 marathon – I just need to be able to maintain for 8 more miles (biting nails).

Anne's neighborhood is so pretty!  Post-18!

As usual, I was treated to dining with the beautiful-Miss-Lyla at breakfast.  She’s such a doll – too bad her parents dress her in Chicago Bears crap.  Although, this one’s pretty cute!!

Outside waiting for our table -- she is sooo dang cute!

Oh, and I also wanted to do a shout-out to my amazing friend, Sarah!  She’s getting healthy and enjoying her workouts.  Shortly after completing my run, she sent me a text about her difficult Total Body Conditioning class – she’s excited to be on the right side of the fitness-lifestyle.  I am just so proud of her!