This is the story of one mama who gave her slow-girl mentality the boot

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Be well.

Rebecca Boswell

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Well, the 2012 Yuengling Shamrock Marathon is over for me. It has been quite a day and I am sorry to report another miss.

I’ll start by saying thank you to all of my friends and family who have called, texted, and messaged me to show support and encouragement.  Your outpouring of love and support have been overwhelming and greatly appreciated.  Please forgive me if it takes me a little while to respond.  I am still processing the lessons of today.

As I said last night, I ate something yesterday that either was bad or just didn’t sit well with me.  After a few bouts of throwing up, I had a fitful sleep, feeling much better but still a little queasy on and off.  I did not have any dinner and this morning ate my Power Bar Energy Bites as planned, feeling like the worst had passed.

In fact, on the way to the race I felt surprisingly strong, confident, and ready for an awesome day.  I found my intended 3:35 pace group, after hitting the porta-potty, and felt like everything was lining up perfectly.  The gun went off, I tucked in with the group and got ready to just run.  All was well through the first aid station, when the pacer plowed through without slowing.  Without my belt this race, I slowed minimally to grab the water, but found I had slipped a bit in my position.  No matter, though, I could easily see the pace flag bobbing up ahead.   I tried to catch up, but didn’t want to burn too much too early, so since I was maintaining 8:05-8:10 pace (which I thought was strange, since the pace group was supposed to be maintaining an even 8:15 pace throughout), I figured I would just sit in behind them.  No worries.

At mile 5, I started to feel my stomach.  It was rumbling and I started having some reflux.  It’s all good, I told myself.  There’s nothing left in me to come out.  Just run and keep sight of the pace flag.  From miles 9-13 there was a lot of headwind.  I tried to draft as much as I could off of larger runners, but the wind just seemed to come off of the water in every direction.   Autopilot, I told myself.  Just dig in.  At mile 13 half the race is over and I had earned a half-marathon PR.

By mile 14, the nausea was building to a fever pitch.  I felt myself fighting burps that were a bit more involved than your average burp.  Lovely, I know.

By mile 15, I was having a hard time keeping anything down and couldn’t even put any of my bloks or gels in my mouth.  From that point on, I had no nutrition.  I knew this wasn’t good, but really had no choice.

By mile 16, I walked my first step and then fought to get back on pace.

By mile 19, I had cold sweats, felt a little dizzy and just wanted to curl up into a fetal position by the side of the road.

By mile 20, I was in the middle of a pity party to rival all others.  I felt like I could barely walk and didn’t even know how I would finish the race.  I thought about all the people I was out there to honor.  People who had fought, and continue to fight, cancer.  They were so strong and brave, and here I was struggling with something as inconsequential and temporary as nausea and dehydration.  I started balling.  I felt like a disgrace and like I was dishonoring them all more than anything else.

The next thing I knew a woman wrapped her arms around me.  She squeezed me tight and close.  Then she said, “You just need to be out here and finish the race.  Walk if you have to.  It’s Ok.  I have brain cancer.  Just do your best, whatever that is.  You can do this.”

I couldn’t even believe the timing and how uncanny the whole thing was (especially given that I had just been thinking about particular loved one who is fighting the same thing).  As I watched her run off, I wiped away my tears and began running and walking, running and walking.  I might have missed my time goal, but she was right, at this point it was about focusing on simply being the best I could be right then and there, even if it was not what I had planned or wanted.

I tried taking water again right after mile 20, desperate for something to go down, but it still just made me gag.  I swished it around in my mouth and kept finding points ahead to run to.   I just had to get to the finish – come hell or high water!

By mile 23, my tongue felt like it took up my whole mouth and my mouth was so sticky I could barely swallow.  I still couldn’t bare the thought of any bloks, gels, or gatorade, but knew I HAD to get water down.  At the next aid station I took a water and sipped slowly.  It didn’t all go down, but some did.  It was enough to be able to swallow again.

At that point, a woman ran by with the following hand-written on the back of her shirt, “You must do that which you cannot do,” or something like that – Eleanor Roosevelt.  From that point on I kept repeating that over and over in my head.  You must, you must…. It wasn’t pretty ,but I ran the rest of the way in to the finish.  Crossing the finish line I totally broke down again – mama drama.

I felt like a total failure.  I crawled into a ball on the grass and cried like my world had ended.  I realize now that that was silly and that it is only a race.  In the scheme of things, who really cares?  But at that moment, it was everything.  I felt frustrated, disappointed, embarrassed and weak…in more ways than one.  I didn’t even want to put on my finisher’s medal.

That, my friends, is the emotional and physical roller-coaster of my day.

As I started to pull myself together, it was time to see what I could take away from this heartbreak of a race.

Here is what I learned:

– Wear my water belt.  No exceptions.

– I don’t like Cliff Bloks.  I will go back to using the Powerbar Gels every 30 minutes.  I feel that worked better for me in many ways.

– Don’t rely on anyone else for pacing.  The 3:35 pace group finished 3 minutes faster than they were supposed to.  As I know – but didn’t follow – you have to run your own race.

– MOST importantly, get my pre-race nutrition dialed in.  I know you can’t anticipate food poisoning, or whatever I had, but I also feel like maybe if I stuck to things that I had eaten during training I might have been better off.  I will have to focus more on fueling for both training and racing.  6 marathons down and I fell prey to a big rookie mistake.

– Lastly, in my mind I kept repeating “Never Give Up” over and over.  The moment I realized I missed my time, I felt like I had given up.  What I have to accept here is that I know that I can run better than I did today.  I know I have the mental and physical toughness to achieve this goal.  I am much more fit now than I was last fall.  Maybe I had a different race today than I had wanted, but giving up would have been listening to that voice in my head that begged to lie down next to the road and wait for a medic to get me.  Believe me, I am not exaggerating when I tell you how tempted I was on several occasions.  Giving up would be to stop pursuing my goal altogether.  Even though the thought of starting all over again is devastating, maybe it’s not about getting beat, as much as it is about not getting beat down.

There you have it.  Warts and all.  I am sad and will need to pick up some pieces, but overall I am healthy and, in the scheme of things, life is good.  I have to focus on that and shine on.

Live, love, run – If not as intended, at least the best I can.

I struck out today, but the game is not over.

It’s time to clear the slate and start fresh…again.

Happy St. Paddy’s Day from Virginia Beach!

This morning started with a delicious breakfast overlooking the beach and perfect weather.  I spoke with some people at the table next to me and got the low-down on both tomorrow’s race (where the wind is, where the hill is, etc.) and on Boston (personal experiences, how many times it took to qualify, registration details, etc.).  It was a good start to the day.

Packet pick-up was next on the agenda.  The expo was your typical zoo with lots of race gear, people selling their better-than-anything-else-you-have-ever-seen-before stuff, and free samples.  My legs had been feeling a little heavy and my knees achy, but after trying one guy’s personal Stim unit, getting the full demo from “The Stick” guy, and enjoying a calf and foot massage from a student at the Cayce School of Massage, I was ready to rock and roll.  I bought a few goodies (a new pair of glasses, a little arm pouch, a new pair of socks, and a small car magnet – all for under $50!) and then headed for lunch at a place that was recommended for their wood-fired pizzas and breads (for sandwiches).

After lunch it was time to drive the course.  While driving through the main drag, the car was surrounded by a a green mob of 30+ bar crawlers dressed in green and wearing dresses – yes, even the guys.  It was pretty amusing.  I have a feeling there will be some hair of the doggers on the sidelines tomorrow.

Driving the course took a while with traffic, but we saw all of it, minus the part that enters Fort Story Naval Base.  We will run through it tomorrow, but otherwise it is closed off to civilians.  The course really is mainly flat, so wind is the only real factor to contend with, in terms of course difficulty.  I was struck by (and reminded) how far 26.2 miles is.  Gulp.

After getting back to the hotel around 5pm, I decided to take a little nap before dinner because I was not feeling so great.  Nerves?  I wasn’t sure.

By the time I walked down to dinner, it was clear that there was more than nerves at play.  I walked into the restaurant and promptly turned on my heels.  I had to get out of there – and quick!  I felt a cold sweat coming on and felt a bit panicked to lie down.  Less than 5 minutes back in the room I lost my lunch, literally.  Yuck.  On the positive side, at least whatever wasn’t sitting well is gone and won’t bother me tomorrow.  My only hope is that whatever caused it is now 100% history and that I will be ok without having eaten much this evening.

So there you have it – it’s all been part of a day’s fun.

My clothes have been laid out – my race prep ritual – and my electronics are charged.  I have my race nutrition plan (2 cliff bloks every 20 mins, water at every station, and a gel at miles 13 and 19).   I also have my mental strategy planned (get to the turn of the half marathon and then getting back to mile 13 is easy – get up to Fort story at mile 19 and then make the term to come back to the start along the home stretch).  It seems everything is ready to go.  The only thing left is to sleep and visualize a great race tomorrow.

If you want to track me tomorrow, it looks like marathon tracking is available at the start, miles 7, 13.1, 19 and finish.  In theory, you should just be able to click here (or go to this page https://www.raceit.com/liveresults/search.aspx?event=2803) and enter:  Rebecca Boswell, Albany, NY, Yuengling Shamrock Marathon and find my info.  If it doesn’t work, you can go to http://www.shamrockmarathon.com, scroll down under Updates and click on the tracking link.  Then, enter Rebecca@InsightsOutCoaching.com and the password:  marathon.  If none of that works, well, it wasn’t meant to be and you will have to wait for my next post or check Face Book 🙂

During my run, I will be sending honoring thoughts to a special list of family and friends that have been touched by cancer.  I dedicate tomorrow’s race to them.  Hopefully I will also honor them with a PR.

There were lots of things that I read at the expo today that gave me a chuckle (including “This isn’t sweat, it’s liquid awesome,” and “Suck it up Buttercup”), but what I will carry with me tomorrow is:  

Accepting all prayers and speedy thoughts…Race begins at 8am EST.

They say three’s a charm – let’s hope that’s true!

Last week I assembled a desk.  I have been changing around my office on a continuous basis for the last 6 months and not finding a workable solution.  Finally, I decided to simply go out and get the right desk for the space and make it right once and for all.  I usually enjoy “making something out of nothing” and finding new uses for old things, but this time, enough was enough – I had to acknowledge the need for something different and act on it.

I went out and bought a desk considering the following criteria:  simple, aesthetically pleasing, good sized top for spreading things out on, and a file drawer.  I found something that fit the bill and brought it home.

I don’t know how your household works, but in mine, it was 10:43 pm by the time I was done getting the kids down, cleaning up, getting ready for the next day, and finishing up my day’s worth of work work.  In a world without desk assembly, it would have been an ideal time for bed.

But in my world, desk assembly was imminent.  I emptied the box of parts, drew a deep breath, and got out the tools.  I opened up the instruction booklet and took note of Step 1.  Attach piece A to piece B.  Ok, already there was a hitch.  One piece out of the 10+ pieces had a sticker with a big black “G” written on it.  None of the others appeared to have letters of any kind.  “This is helpful.  Good thing the diagram is lettered,” I thought, looking at the clock and noting how quickly the hands marched on.

I was 3/4 of the way finished with the project (I was using the illustrations and the picture of the desk on the front of the box to piece it all together), when I noticed a small “D” handwritten on the rough edge of one of the pieces.  It had been written in black ball point pen and was barely visible.  As I looked at the other pieces, I noticed most (not all) of them also had these little handwritten letters.  Huh.

After unsticking my brain from the fact that the little hand written letters were ridiculous, and wondering if the factory that made the desk had perhaps run out of the rest of their alphabet letters on the day my desk was made, I had to laugh.  Literally LOL.  I was laughing at how silly it all was – me getting annoyed that the letters were missing, trying to put the desk together without a clue of what was what, and then finding the handwritten letters once I was almost finished.

What struck me was that there were some valuable messages hidden in this experience:

*  Sometimes the answers we want are right there in front of us, but we do not see them or recognize them because they do not look the way we expect them to.  (I was looking for each piece to have a nice letter sticker, like the one with the big “G” on it.  Because I did not see any, I assumed the pieces were not lettered.  Had I been more open to other possibilities, I might have seen the unlikely letters a lot sooner.)

*  Sometimes we are able to accomplish our goals even if we don’t know for sure if we are doing things exactly right, as long as we take the extra time needed to figure out each next step along the way.  (It took longer, but I still managed to assemble the desk, even when I had to guess at what went where.)

*  Sometimes we just need to keep going, even if we are frustrated or unsure whether we are proceeding correctly.  Without continuing forward, we are not open to answers when they finally reveal themselves.  (If I had simply put the pieces back in the box and given up when I thought the pieces were unmarked, I would not have eventually found the handwritten letters and I wouldn’t have completed my awesome new desk.)

I have thought about this desk experience several times over the past week, that is why I decided to share it here.  I guess, the overall take-away is that we don’t always see clearly, even when the path is clearly marked and at our fingertips.  By being open and working to be more aware of the little details around us, we are more likely to access that which we think is lacking.

Here’s to trusting that the answers we seek are all around us and that being open will allow us to receive them.

 

(Pre-Marathon update to follow tomorrow!)

Lessons from the Locker Room

As I ran into the Y this morning, like a chicken with her head cut off (to make it to yoga on time), I clearly noted the irony.  Hurry to Om.  Typical.

After dropping tidbit into Kiddie Corner (at warp speed), I slowed briefly to have my card swiped…that’s when I saw the big sign: Yoga Cancelled.  I literally laughed out loud.  Of course.

LESSON:  It’s time to slow down. Not just in yoga, but in general.

I now sauntered to the locker room, chatting casually with another member, and laughing over something trivial, yet satisfying.  After dropping my unneeded yoga mat and jacket in the locker room, I headed upstairs and completed my run.

My original plan for maximizing my 1.5 hour visit to the Y was to get tidbit into his room at his assigned time,  while somehow starting my yoga class at exactly the same time.  Then, I was going to leave class a little early (quietly and respectfully, of course) to be able to complete my run one minute before I had to spring kiddo from baby jail.  If everything went just right, it might work…

For the record, it never does work.  The consequences: being late, frazzled, and missing out on the little bits of life that fill in the spaces between larger blocks of time.  Today, because of yoga being canceled, I saw this clearly for what felt like the first time (obvious as it may seem).

LESSON:  When scheduling, pay closer attention to transition times.  They are just as important as primary activities, and require minutes of my day, whether I plan for them or not.

Instead of rushing from run to kiddie pickup, I now was able to enjoy connecting with a fellow Albany Running Mama.  Down in the locker room I marveled at all the time I had. If only I had stuff for a shower…

I decided to be creative. Who needs a shirt (when you have a fleece) or undies (no one sees them anyway!)?  The Y provides paper towels and soap. What more could a sweaty girl ask for?

LESSON:  Conditions don’t need to be perfect to get exactly what you need.  Sometimes perfection can come in an unlikely package.  Be open and allow things to serve you, even if they do not take the form of what you are accustomed to.

“I usually have a bag,” I said to my friend. “A towel would have been nice, but this is great – I get to take a shower before going home!”  That’s when she offerred me a spare hand towel and an extra travel shampoo.  I got upgraded from Motel 6 to the Ritz in the blink of an eye.

LESSON:  Put it out there.  I had no intention of getting a towel, I was fine with my plan, and yet, my message about a towel was received and I accepted the offer.   We need to put what we want out into the world, and then say yes when it comes to us in one form or another.

The shower was great.  I didn’t have to rush and I could just enjoy the warm water while it did its magic. Accidentally, while washing my hair, I pulled my earring from my ear.  I looked all around on the floor and could not find either the post or the back.  I decided to look again afterwards, half thinking it may very well have taken a trip down the Bethlehem Town Waterslide.   After getting dressed, I went back to look.  There was my earring in plain sight and my post was right next to the drain.  That I had not seen them from within the shower is a mystery.  Without thinking, I said, “Thank you” out loud while picking them up (imagine how weird people would have thought me if they had just seen me dry off with a bunch of paper towels!).

LESSON:  I was standing right on top of my earring and yet couldn’t see it until I stepped away, came back, and looked into the space from the outside.  Sometimes you need a change of perspective to see clearly.

Clean and happy, I left the locker room ready for the rest of my day.  I was a lot more relaxed than if yoga had not been cancelled.

Will I remember these lessons?  Maybe not every day or all the time, but they will remain a part of my awareness.  And after all, awareness is the first step in making a change.

94 miles is what I logged after 14 consecutive days of lacing up my nikes and hitting the pavement.

Usually I have a day or two off each week, but because of a coach recommended schedule change for February 12th, the week of the13th had a lot of recovery days (a.k.a. lower mileage). (I was supposed to race a half marathon on the 12th, but was told to do speed drills instead of simulating a race – who would have thought it would be so hard to find a local half on that day?!)

This means that 94 miles, while seemingly impressive at first glance, is actually somewhat low, for where I am in my plan.  Lower mileage in week 13 brought my overall mileage down, but was there another factor?  Well, yes, it seems I had another bout of “the bug.”  Oh, yes. The dreaded bug (with similar effects to the one which recently made it’s silver screen debut in Bridesmaids).  On Saturday, despite some dizziness and stomach upset, I attempted my 1:40 run anyway.  Pretty early on I realized I was in trouble. I opted to lower my intensity (to keep my breakfast in its proper place) and end the run after an hour.  The rest of the day was spent in bed.

Today, although I knew I was still a bit intestinally iffy, I wanted to comply with my training plan, especially since this weekend marks the last of my big build weekends before pre-race taper.  The day was beautiful and I was feeling optimistic.  I will spare you the details, but will tell you I succeeded in completing my 2:2o run (with some extra time added in for, uh, emergency “rest” stops – Sorry Stewart’s!), but did not succeed in achieving my goal intensity.  My body was mostly fine with running, but seriously dragging (or worse) if I tried to push it.

I found myself wondering:  Where is the line between listening to my body and giving up?  So often the body says, “No More!” and yet I keep going.  For me this weekend, on the one hand, I felt like I was quitting – failing- not seeing my assignment through to the end.  On the other hand, I wanted to honor my body (which I was demanding so much from) and cut it some slack, given its obvious issues.  I guess this line is different for each athlete, but it would be interesting to learn more about this line from elite level athletes.

Anyway, with only 21 days left until my next race, I need to let what has been be and focus ahead on what is to come.  Part of that is making sure I do tend to my body and help it to get back to 100%.  My Bedtime Challenge and Fresh Five Challenge certainly are a help, and I look to (like my 3-treats guideline from January) keep up the momentum even after the month (and challenges) are officially over.  (Any suggestions for March’s challenge?)

Lastly, I would be holding back if I did not say that I am working hard to mentally prepare for my upcoming race.  As Yogi Berra said, “Ninety percent of the game is half mental.”  This was made crystal clear this weekend, as my body rebelled and my mind had to hop into overdrive.

According to sports psychologist Gary Mack, there are 7 specific characteristics that can be identified as part of mental toughness.  He talks about competitive drive, confidence, self-control, commitment, composure, courage and consistency.  When any one of these areas becomes out of whack, any athlete will have a more difficult time performing at a level of excellence.   These characteristics serve as a positive reminder to take control, stay focused, charge ahead and stay the course.

Mack also notes some “gremlins” that lurk in the recesses of our minds, and directly impact the 7 characteristics above in a negative way.  They are:  fear, anger, anxiety, self-consciousness, perfectionism, stubbornness, distractions, and lack of motivation, competitiveness, or persistence.

In my journey, I recognize elements of mental toughness, in terms of commitment, courage, and consistency, but also find myself battling my share of gremlins.  Fear, doubt, anxiety, and perfectionism are the ones that rear their heads the most for me.  So much so, in fact, that I have begun to wonder how important qualifying for Boston really is, and whether this whole process isn’t really about learning to banish my gremlins once and for all?

Last night, while talking with my daughter about my upcoming race, she gave me a kiss and told me, “I will love you no matter what.”  The question is, on March 18th, will I love myself….no matter what?

P.S.  Thank you to all who donated to my LiveSTRONG fundraiser!  My goal has been exceeded thanks to your generosity and desire to help those in need.   Good on ya!

Why was 6 afraid of 7? Cuz 7 8 9! Ha.  Turns out it also “eight” 10 and 11, at least in terms of my weekly posts!

This past Sunday marked the end of a pretty hefty build cycle in my training.  Even though I have begun to buckle down on my sleep (attempting 11pm bedtime – OK, so I have been missing it, but at least by less than 15 minutes, which is better than I was doing before February’s Bedtime Challenge!), I have been feeling pretty tired over the past week (although the moon may have something to do with that, if you know what I mean, ladies).

This week is a pretty quiet recovery week with a 13.1 (half-marathon) scheduled for this Sunday.  There are no races scheduled nearby, so I will be simulating a race with a friend.  (If anyone wants to come out and ring cowbells, go for it! 😉  More on that next post.

The last 3 weeks have been a roller coaster ride of strong strides, leaden legs, blizzards and sunshine.  Last week alone I ran in a snow squall for two hours and then the next day ran in a Tee-Shirt.  Craziness.  I have also felt highs and lows in my attitude, riding the wave of elation and disappointment as I try to remain faithful to the new HR training approach I adopted for this training cycle.  What remains consistant is my dedication and commitment to staying the course, my desire to take care of my body (no injuries so far – knock on wood – which is more than I could say for last cycle), and my willingness to give whatever I have to give to this process.

I recently finished the book, “Running on Faith:  The Principles, Passion, and Pursuit of a Winning Life,” by Jason Lester, an ESPY winner and Ironman Triathlete with a lame right arm.  He is hardcore.  I recall one part of his book where he tells of being fished out of a swarm of jellyfish by a rescue boat during a race.  He said he was lying there on the bottom of the boat wondering how it could end this way?  How could he have spent so much time and energy training to have it end in defeat then and there.  The next thing he knew, he had thrown himself back into the jellyfish and swam the rest of the 6-mile ocean swim with his one useable arm.  His motto is to never give up.  I think of this as I start to waver, wimper, or wonder what the hell I am doing all this for…  If he can do what he has done, I can do what I have set out to do too.  Some day.  Some way.  I just have to keep going.

Here are a few quotes I thought I’d share:

“Being guided by the wisdom of spirit is what makes people great.  Vision, hard work, sacrifice, and belief in oneself over the long-term are the recipe for incredible achievements.”  (p. 91-92)

“…we set limits on what we think we can do.  We base our expectations on what others tell us and on our fears of what we think we can’t achieve.  Our inner voice can be like a terrorist whispering to us:  “You’re not strong enough.  You’re not strong enough.  You’re not good enough.”…We’ve all heard them.  They encourage us to find an excuse to give up.  They tell us it’s okay to quit this time.  What they don’t tell us is that each time we give in, each time we stop before we achieve our goal, it becomes a little easier to quit the next time.”  (p.136-137)

“Life does not give you the option of pressing the pause button and quitting.  If you do quit, giving up on your dream, you become a zombie, shuffling through life, feeling nothing.  Sadly, lots of people live like that, but that’s not living; it’s existing without the joy and purpose that life can bring.  The only way you get anything worthwhile in this life is to never, ever give up.  You have much more strength than you know.”  (p.139)

I will try to burn these words in my heart and in my mind as I continue to push myself to my own edge and stick to my training, even when I would rather not.  I hope it will help you in some meaningful way too.

My mileage over the past 3 weeks:  almost 100 miles

Notes:  Please check out (and “LIKE”) Inner Fast Girl on FB to chat and check out this month’s Bedtime and Fresh-Five Challenges, spread the word about the upcoming Inner Fast Girl 5k Training Program in Albany, and help fight cancer by donating (no amount is too small!) securely to my LiveSTRONG fundraising campaign.

Come join the fun and start your own journey.  I will help you along the way!  (P.S.  I know I owe two weeks of training notes….they are coming….really!).

UNLEASH your Inner Fast Girl ~ Let’s coax her out together!

There is an Inner Fast Girl (a strong, confident, self-assured and
capable athlete) inside all of us.  Is yours hiding?  Now is the time
to break her out and get her moving!
If you have never run, haven’t run in years, or want to build your
confidence as a runner, this 9-week program is for you.  It
incorporates a run-walk model to help you successfully train for a 5k
race without excessive discomfort.  The program begins on Monday,
April 2nd, and culminates with your completion of the 5k Freihofer’s
Run for Women on Saturday, June 2, 2012, as part of Team Inner Fast
Girl.*

You have nothing to lose except your slow-girl mentality, limiting
beliefs, and those unwanted holiday pounds.

Included in this program:
       Individual goal-setting and Mindset Coaching
       Training Plan
       Running 101:  Stretching, Self-Care, Nutrition
       Group support & camaraderie
       Access to Inner Forum – private members-only Bulletin Board
       A piece of Inner Fast Girl Gear
       Fun making new friends and getting fit!

Bonus:  Full Physical Assessment for the first 5 registrants!

Registration:
$199 through February 17th
$249 through April 2nd

* Individual race registration is not included in program registration.
Call or Email with questions, comments, and to register.
(518) 391-0484 | Rebecca@InsightsOutCoaching.com
Please pass this along and “Like” Inner Fast Girl on FB – the more the merrier!
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