Journey to the Finish Line

Preview: Ironman Arizona

Last month it was the World Championships in Kona.

This weekend, the qualifying cycle begins again as a sold-out field competes in the sixth Ironman Arizona on Sunday.

The Arizona event originally was an April affair, but the Ironman corporation moved the race to November in its race calendar when temperatures in Tempe are bit more conducive to 140.6 miles. (In fact in 2008, there were two Ironman Arizona events -- one in April and one in November). Ironman Arizona is the last North American IM race on the calendar until Lake Placid in July. Only six of the 22-branded Ironman races are in North America.

As writer Liz Hichens points out in her preview for Triathlon Competitor, the professional athletes find Arizona a key race after Kona. The top 10 finishers at Kona automatically qualify for a return the following year. Finish outside the top 10 and you have to qualify at another race. Arizona gives the pros a chance to do that early, taking the pressure off other races during the course of the year.

For Sam McGlone of Canada, Sunday's race is about challenging for her first Ironman victory. McGlone placed fifth in October at Kona, securing her spot for 2010. While a world champion at the 70.3 distance, she has recently made the move to Ironman and is looking for her first win. She was third at Lake Placid this year.

Fellow Canadian Heather Wurtele is in the field with some impressive results the past two seasons. She won the 2008 Ironman Coeur d'Alene in Idaho then placed third in the race this year. She also has a third place finish at the 2008 Ironman Canada.

Others to watch in the women's division include American Linsey Corbin (who finished outside the top 10 in Kona and is looking to punch her return card for 2010), Australian Kate Major (who won Arizona in 2005) and Great Britian's Leanda Cave (last year's runner-up in Arizona).

On the men's side, most of the contenders will be racing on tired legs, competing in recent Ironman and 70.3 events.

The favorite in the field is South African Raynard Tissink who this year took third at Ironman Louisville then won Ironman Wisconsin two weeks later. Tissink finished eighth just two weeks ago at Ironman Florida. He will contend with Joszef Rapp, who won the April Arizona race in 2008 and returned to place fourth at the November race. American Jordan Rapp won his first Ironman this year, at Ironman Canada. Rapp placed third in both 2008 Arizona races.

This year, Ironman Arizona features a handful of Buffalo-area athletes. Included in the field are Patrick Dalton, Jr. (26, Cheektowaga), Tim Dieffenbach (51, Holland), Brian Foster (36, East Amherst), Anthony Garrow (54, North Tonawanda), Diane Sardes (57, North Tonawanda), Jeff Tracy (40, Lockport) and Greg Weber (47, Amherst).

You can track the progress of athletes on Sunday at the official Ironman website.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Adding up the mega miles

It was my second run of the day and frankly, the thought that this was a bit freakish entered my mind. Normally I don't run twice in one day, but life circumstances had me miss a run earlier in the week. With warm, sunny weather for November in Buffalo, I figured why not sneak in the easy run I missed the day before?

So in the morning, I completed an easy 45-minute run. In the late afternoon came the second run, another 45-minutes this time with some tempo intervals.

In the grand scheme of running, two 45-minute runs isn't all that crazy.

Especially when I came across this article on mega marathoners in the Wall Street Journal.

Mega marathoners are those who complete numerous marathons in a year. We're not just talking two or three in a 12-month period but anywhere from 30 to 100.

The article features 73-year-old Eugene DeFonzo, who recently ran marathon No. 402. Last year he ran 35 marathons. His doctor calls him both a "nut job" and a "marvel." The truth is probably somewhere in between.

Mega marathoners are different from ultra runners. Ultra runners go long distances in one race, typically 50 or 100 miles. Mega marathoners run the traditional 26.2 distance, just a whole lot of times.

That much racing doesn't leave much time for training. Then again, some people hate training and would rather just race. Mega marathoning would be one way to do that.

While some people go strictly for quality in a marathon, looking, for instance, to qualify for the Boston Marathon, others go for quantity. Or for the fun factor, getting to travel to different locations for races. There are people who strive to run a marathon on every continent. Yes, there is even an Antarctica Marathon and Half Marathon, only it's sold out until 2012.

There are those who want to join the 50-state club, running a marathon in all 50 states. In fact, there are two clubs runners can join en route to that mark -- The 50 States Marathon Club and the 50 States and DC Marathon Group USA. For those who want the travel but a lighter workload, there also is a half-marathon 50-state club.

"There's a great reward at the end of all this -- finishing, because you're going through a lot of physical and mental pain." DeFronzo said in the Wall Street Journal online video (see below).  "Of course at the finish line you feel such a tremendous relief and a tremendous feeling that you've accomplished something great."

What's the reward for doing a marathon in each state? Or running hundreds of marathons? Motivations are different for different people. Perhaps it's a bit of an obsession, boarding on a running or racing addiction. Perhaps it's a need to continuously challenge yourself. People will debate whether the mega marathoners are inspirational, whack jobs or just plain doing something dangerous. Some will think their slow times, their desire to merely finish, is disrespectful to the marathon.

But our goals, our desires, our passions are ours and ours alone, regardless of what others might think about them.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

The Biggest Loser: Makeover Week

It's one of the highlights of the show The Biggest Loser -- the makeover. At some point late in the game the contestants get a celebrity-style treatment of hair, makeup and clothing. On the surface, it seems a bit like an exercise in vanity, but there is a symbolism to it that runs much deeper than just getting a new look. As Tabatha Coffey, a hairstylist and reality show maven herself, described, the contestants are letting go of the person they once were, the perceptions they once had of themselves in order to step into the person they are becoming.

The makeovers were in conjunction with a task they were given at the beginning of the show -- each of them had to give a speech to an auditorium of 300 people. They had to use the platform to inspire and motivate others, just like previous contestants on the show inspired and motivated them.

And while speeches don't make for as compelling reality show television as say, accusations of game playing between Rudy and Rebecca did later in the episode, I wish The Biggest Loser spent more time wit this segment.

Because this is where the power lies.

Each of the six left had the opportunity to share his or her story.

For Alan, his moment of truth came when, as a firefighter he found it difficult to protect the lives of other people when he was in fear for his own life. He began to feel he was a liability with his weight and his health.

Danny had a turning point when his daughter came into the living room, jumped on his stomach and said "Daddy I want to have belly just like you when I grow up." He told her that no, she didn't. And that moment turned the light on for him.

Rudy revealed for the first time that when he was 12 years old, his big sister was diagnosed with cancer. He ate to deal with the feelings, but his sister told him she wanted him to make a change and lose the weight. He was finally on his journey so that he could play with his kids.

Liz, in her late 40s, talked about putting everyone else first -- family, business, friends. "I tried to be everything to everybody," she said. "And somewhere along the way I lost myself." She recalled watching the first season of The Biggest Loser, eating ice cream while watching the weigh-ins and claiming that she would do better next time. Eventually, she got her next time and realized how important it is take time for herself.

Amanda and Rebecca both talked about being the fat girl. Amanda said she didn't have any tragedy in her life that led her to gain weight. She just always saw herself as overweight and it held her back from too many opportunities. Rebecca, too, said she had been overweight since she was 10 years old and always saw herself as the chubby friend and the chubby sister.

Rebecca's sister was in the audience and during an interview with the show, said she never saw Rebecca as her chubby sister -- just as her sister.

That's the story that resonated with me. Both Amanda and Rebecca come from a place where they believed they were the fat girl who belonged in the back. And they became the fat girls in the back because that's what they believed about themselves. We become what we think about all day long.

Not only did Rebecca become what she thought about, she projected that feeling and belief onto others who are closest to her. We often guess how other people see us, but really we have no idea. We're merely projecting our own beliefs about ourselves onto the eyes of other people. More importantly though, it doesn't matter how others see us. It only matters how we see ourselves.

Because how we see ourselves is the person we become.

If we change our thoughts, change our definitions of ourselves, than our life experiences will change with it. The people in our lives will start to reflect this new definition. And more joy will come our way.

Rebecca was the eliminated player last night. But as she changed the way she viewed herself her outsides and her insides finally began to match.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Work, joy and Grandpa

It was 5:45 in the morning when we started our run. The odd warmth for November made it a pleasant start, despite the darkness. After a mile, I came to the hill which would serve as my bounding station. Four times bounding up -- slightly bigger than normal stride, using my arms, thinking of my form and trying to keep a smooth and steady pace -- then a light jog to the bottom. 

The first one nearly killed me. The second one was tough. The third one made me want to cry and the fourth one caused me to continuously repeat in my head "c'mon it's the last one."

I had done hill-bounding work on this hill before and didn't suffer as much. But it wasn't so much a physical pain as an emotional one to work through on this particular morning.

On Friday, my grandfather died. He was 88 (and proud of being 88, wondering how the heck he got to be 88) and generally sliding into poor health. After a week in the hospital with a long recovery ahead of him, he quietly decided it was time for him to go home in the eternal sense. Along with the mourning came a sense of joy for him -- that he was finally at peace and at last reunited with my grandmother, the love of his life, whom he missed more than I think I can ever imagine since she passed eight years ago.

And during my long run on Sunday morning, he was on my mind.

Those who run (or bike or swim or do yoga) understand the healing power in exercise. There are studies which document the physiological effects that a run can have on the brain and on mood. Sure there's the cliched "runner's high" but more than that, running serves a a clearing affect on the mind and the body.

Then there's the community effect. Running by myself sometimes feels great -- it lets me wander in my own thoughts, in my own body and enjoy the time alone. But other times, running with friends is just as healing, whether we chat during the run or not. Sunday morning meant running with Sue, who seems to know just when to listen, when to tell stories and when to let the silence of friendship carry us through a few miles.

As our run progressed after the hill-bounding interlude, the sun started to rise, giving way to a beautiful red and orange horizon. And I thought, "red sky at morning, sailor's take warning." I'm not positive, but I attribute learning that rhyme to my grandfather. It fits anyway -- he was fascinated with the weather.

He was fascinated with a lot of things and shared that curiosity with his family. He introduced me to a wide range of things -- from taking me on my first trip to the Buffalo Museum of Science to teaching me how to keep score at a baseball game (and I still use his system in my scorebooks and can not attend a game, even for fun, without procuring a scorecard). My grandfathered loved to learn, though he never made it to college. The second-youngest of seven boys, his father died when he was a teenager and money became tight. Instead of going on for more education, he took a series of jobs. Then came World War II.

Leading his unit through parts of Germany and France became his endurance sport.

He was proud of his service, telling stories about his unit of combat engineers which traveled about the country, going into areas after a battle to restore roads and bridges. I thought of that during the last part of my run. Not that I'm comparing running out of Chestnut Ridge Park with marching across Rhine in full combat gear, but thinking about his ability to endure made that last part of a hilly, challenging, long run a bit more bearable for me.

Of the many things I learned from my grandfather was the power of seeing a job through to the end. He loved to be busy, whether that was with his family, at work or around the house. He found joy in things other people called "work" whether that was mowing the lawn or taking the kids, and later grandkids, out of the house to give the women a break. 

I thought of his approach to "work" during that long run. There are people I've met who see running and exercising as a chore (hence, in some ways, the term "work out"). But that's not how I see it. It's challenging, yes, but I enjoy it. Training has become one of my passions. Something that brings me joy in a variety of ways both large and small.

Same too with my grandfather who had hobbies that to many others seemed just like more "work" rather than enjoyment.

In the end, all that matters is how you define what you do. And that what you do brings you love, laughter and joy.

The worst part of these last few years for my grandfather was his physical inability to do those chores. The family begged him to just relax, let it go, not worry about it. I mean, really Gramps, you're upset with yourself because you can't keep up with the dusting and vacuuming?

It puzzled me for a long time, but I think I'm starting to understand.

And while his desire to continue with "work" increasingly resonates with me, I also take from him the life lesson he failed to learn -- that sometimes it is just as valuable to rest, to take some time to go inside and to not be afraid of what you may find in the stillness.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

The Lance effect

This just in -- Lance Armstrong's return to professional cycling has dramatically increased membership for USA Cycling.

It's not much of a surprise, but then again, there is something comforting about statistics backing up what you believe to be obvious.

In an article this week in Cycling News, USA Cycling announced its number of license holders will reach an all-time high of 66,600 members by the end of the year -- a 5.62 increase in memberships over last year.

This, mind you, is not the total number of people cycling. These are people who are joining USA Cycling -- the national governing body of the sport. While the organization promotes riding at all levels, its main thrust is competition. So most of those 66,600 members have joined because they want to race their bikes, not just ride their bikes. If there was a way to count that, the number of people cycling and the percentage increase would probably be even higher.

While difficult to pinpoint exactly the cause and effect of the membership gains, there is clearly a correlation between Lance and the popularity of the sport.

Again, it's not rocket science. In order to have success in today's over-crowded media world, a sport has to have a strong and compelling personality. It helps immensely if that personality also wins. (Although there are historical cases where that's completely necessary. See Anna Kournikova.)

Lance Armstrong's story -- his battle with cancer, his foundation, his comeback, heck even his pop-celebrity status -- have made him a household name, gaining attention for a sport which lacked any type of foothold in the American sporting culture.

"Sports needs people," Armstrong said in the Cycling News article. "It's important to have those stories so people pay attention. As teams and people involve in the sport, you gotta keep that going. If you don't have the athletes who have the story and carry the personality, the sport will go away. It's our job to develop young guys, riders who can keep people interested in cycling and interested in their stories for whatever reason. People look at my story and you can say they're interested because he's a strong cyclist or because he's a cancer survivor."

Ah, but will people's interest change in 2011 if Lance makes the move from cycling to triathlon as he's indicated?

Armstrong first got his competitive start as a triathlete before switching to professional cycling. He has said that in 2011 he would like to race Kona -- otherwise known as the Ironman World Championships. Unless there is some special dispensation for Lance, he will have to compete in at least one other Ironman that year and perform well enough to qualify. Those details aren't the priority right now -- the 2010 Tour de France is.

But just as Armstrong has boosted cycling, there is already talk of what his re-entry into triathlon will do for that sport.

USA Triathlon, the governing body of that sport, announced 115,000 annual memberships -- not quite double the amount that USA Cycling had. The sport of triathlon is growing, in part because of branding and marketing efforts of the World Triathlon Corporation, which owns the Ironman and Ironman 70.3 race series. It's also growing because of the increase in the number of smaller, local races and the plethora of distance available -- from "try-a-tri" events and sprint distance all the way up to the grueling Iron Distance events (whether they be trademarked Ironman races or independent events).

If the sport is already growing, what will the Lance affect be?

In the eyes of Claire Lunardoni of the Boston Triathlon Examiner, it has the potential for widespread disaster.

"While the sponsorship opportunities that Armstrong will bring to triathlon will benefit pros and race directors, mid-pack triathlon veterans are likely to suffer," she writes. "With more triathletes, races will sell out even more quickly and qualification-only events like the world championships in Kona and Clearwater will become out of reach for more and more athletes as qualification slots are spread thinner and thinner across more North American races. ... With a sharp increase in triathlon participation, the sport will almost certainly need to stratify based on ability, bringing the common age grouper farther and farther from the elite level."

Possibly.

But what if a company like WTC looked at how championship spots are given? Right now, you qualify for one of the two championships (Kona for Ironman, Clearwater for 70.3) at designated races throughout the year. How do you qualify? Each race has a certain number of slots allocated for each age group based on the number of participants registered. The bigger the race, the more slots available. The smaller the race, the fewer the slots, though potentially slightly easier competition. 

Maybe a system like one used by the Boston Marathon, with qualifying times and easily understood standards, would make the triathlon process less messy. Maybe there's some sort of combination of the two.

Either way, would the added media exposure, sponsorship dollars and popularity that Lance would bring to triathlon hurt the every-day athlete's experience?

I'm not so sure it would. Qualifying for a world championship should be difficult by nature. And while managing more participation may mean some growing pains and rethinking traditional ways of being, the more people brought to the health and fitness table the better we all are.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Bionic runners

What does an athlete look like?

It's a question which historically has been used to discuss images of female athletes.

But lately, it's a question that can be posed to discuss something broader, something tricker than gender or race.

Disability.

It's a topic that emerged over the last week after a new study found that prosthetic limbs hinder running performance. This contradicts concerns from 2008, when South African runner Oscar Pistorius, a double  amputee and pretty darn fast 400 meter sprinter wanted to compete for a spot in the Olympics. He couldn't, said the international governing body for track and field, because his prostheses gave him an unfair advantage.

Yes, a man with no legs apparently had a running advantage.

The concern was over "technological doping" making someone "bionic" or "superhuman." A court of arbitration overturned the decision and Pistorius was able to compete in the Olympic trials, missing the qualifying time by three quarters of a second.

Without the pressure of looming Olympic trials, researchers were able to construct a better design and refute earlier findings that runners with high tech prosthetics gained a performance advantage. (For complete findings, see the article in the Biology Letters of the Royal Society of London.)

Science and technology issues raise ethical questions, as was tackled by Jack Hitt in the New York Times Magazine. Should disabled athletes be allowed to compete with able-bodied athletes? Do high tech prosthetics give disabled athletes an unfair compensation?

"The progressive laws of culture are the brilliant work-around to the brutal law of the jungle," Hitt writes. "So sure, we'll build access ramps, finance kneeling buses, design J blades and invent push-rim wheelchairs -- not out of pity or political correctness but so that a wider range of human talent can enter the fray win or lose."

So often, we miss the stories of winning or losing. We (meaning people in the media, including myself) frame disability sports only as an uplifting, inspirational tale. And more often than not they are inspirational stories. That's one of the things we love about athletics -- the ability it has to inspire us, to give us hope and make us feel good. Those stories surely need to be told. But are we doing a disservice to disabled athletes by only telling the feel-good stories? Should we ask for more every day coverage of Paralympic Games -- the kind that reports on games and events as normal, every day competition where the athletes just happen to have some sort of physical disability?

Should Pistorius be allowed to compete in the Olympics if he qualifies as opposed to being relegated to the Paralympics? 

What does a runner look like? Must he have both legs to be a runner?

Or are we perhaps slightly afraid of what it may mean if the runner with no legs turns out to be a better athlete than we are?

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Biggest Loser: A win turns into a loss

Most. Disappointing. Elimination. Ever.

It was crazy week on The Biggest Loser last night as the field of eight contestants would be cut to six with two people sent home. The twist this week, new to the show, was the introduction of the "red line."

For those not familiar with the show, each week the contestants step on a communal scale and are then ranked by percentage of body weight lost (as opposed to just pure pounds). Depending upon the structure for the week, either a team or individuals fall below the yellow line. There then is a conference where one contestant is voted off the show.

This week, the red line meant instant elimination. The person with the lowest percentage of body weight lost would automatically go home.

The next two at the bottom of the list would be up for the traditional elimination vote.

And the focus was on Shay.

Shay came to the show as its heaviest contestant at 476 pounds. Her personal history included a mother whose description seemed more fitting for a character on an episode of Lawn and Order:SVU than to be an actual mother. The pain and emotion that comes from that trauma was something Shay worked hard to hide -- to the tune of 476 pounds.

And while The Biggest Loser ranch was helping her turn her life around, there just seemed so much more work to be done.

"As much as we haven't been saying it because it's not politically correct, Shay needs to stay here," trainer Jillian Michaels said to fellow trainer Bob Harper.

The question in part for Jillian became who can survive the best at home. Who is ready to sustain the changes at home?

There was doubt that Shay was ready. And from the footage from the week she spent back home, I wonder if she has the adequate support system to help her continue on her journey.

Shay was the first contestant to step on the scale -- and she lost 17 pounds.

That number set a record for The Biggest Loser. She became the fastest female contestant to lose 100 pounds, doing it in nine weeks.

But the record and the impressive weight loss wasn't enough. Motivated by the thought of the red line, everyone else, except Daniel and Amanda, pulled big numbers and bigger percentages.

Daniel, who was on the show last season, was below the red line and immediately went home.

Shay and Amanda were below the yellow line and up for elimination.

And it was Shay who was voted off the show.

Really? 

The person who is the least threat in the "game-playing" and who needs the support of the show in order to survive, that's who you're sending home?

"I came on campus that first week thinking if I don't do this, I'm going to die," Shay said. "It was hard every step, but you see the results and you say screw it, let's go again. I can do it.

"I've been doing my whole life what other people have liked. Now, I'm doing what I like. I've keep my integrity. I keep my word and I walk out of here with all of that and a record. I'm seeing more of me when I look in the mirror because I have a future now.I have a life ahead of me."

I am hoping that Shay wins the battle of the cast-off contestants at the finale. But mostly, I'm hoping that she takes the confidence and that drive which she discovered on the show and lives in it all the time.

The product placement watch this week was Larabar. Actually, I am a fan of Larabars. The energy bar is made with whole fruits, nuts and spices -- unprocessed and with no additives. I only wish the company sold the mini version along with its full-sized bars.

---Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Running with cadence

"Cadence check!"

It's sometime early in the morning, before the sun comes up and the best time to call out "cadence check" is upon hitting a stretch of good streetlights. We count how many times our right foot hits the ground during a 30-second span.

"Stop!"

"48," I tell Sue.

"Me, too," she replies.

And then the run continues with our usual conversation about friends, family and work. Until another cadence check opportunity arises.

Such is the nature of my easy-paced runs. The goal of cadence running is to increase your turnover. The higher your cadence, the faster you will run. And if you do it naturally -- for me this meant shorter steps while staying in my endurance heart rate zone -- you get a bit faster without even thinking about it. The general goal prescribed by my coach is a cadence of 90 or greater. When counting for 30 seconds, that means wanting your right foot to strike the ground 45 times or better. At the beginning of this cadence experiment, I was right at 45. Now I routinely hit 48 and 47.

I'm getting faster.

But I'm also getting stronger.

These days my workouts are in part gearing me up for the Miami Half Marathon in late January. But the workouts are also good base and strength building time, if I allow them to be.

The key point here is allowing the workout to be what the workout is for.

A cadence run is much different than a hilly run. On a cadence run, I'm looking for an easy heart rate zone and high leg turnover. On a hilly run, heart rate and pace don't mean a thing. Instead, the run is about building strength, which will make me faster and increase my fitness in different ways than a flat cadence run will.

It's all about understanding the purpose of the workout and going with that flow.

Not every workout is about speed. Not every workout is about hills and climbing. If I find myself getting too caught up in the math, that's a sign I need to stop. The only math I allow myself to do is count -- including, but not limited to, cadence on a the run and laps in the pool, although quite frankly I lose count in the pool so much there probably is little accurate measure of how far I actually do swim most days.

When I allow myself to be present for each workout, thinking only about that session at hand instead of calculating how it will help me reach my half marathon goal or get me through my next half Ironman swim, the training is not only more enjoyable, it's inherently more productive.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz

Vacation authenticity

The refrigerator was stocked with yogurt and low-fat milk and fruit. Smoothies became the order of breakfast in the morning, which, when  made with a scoop of chocolate protein mix, became the better way to start the day eating on the go.

"Our kitchen is always healthier when you're around," my sister-in-law said to me.

That's much better than the sideways glances and comments about "oh, that weird stuff you eat" which I often get from others in my long-time circle of family and friends.

Last week brought a mix of the newly popular "staycation" and "fauxcation"-- as in taking your time off from work and making it fun without the cost of a traditional vacation. So I packed up my car (including my bike and the stationary trainer) and set off to visit my younger brother and his wife for the week. I would be leaving my house (the fauxcation" part) but once at their house would really just be camping out not doing very much but enjoying time off (the "staycation" part).

The plan had always been to continue training during this week, continuing to prepare for the Miami Half Marathon in January. But sometimes doing your normal routine in a different place is all you need to smile a bit more and make that "normal routine" not seem so routine.

My introduction to workouts in Binghamton began on Monday at a lunchtime swim at the university's recreation center pool. For $5 visitors could use the on-campus facilities. The undergraduate lifeguard thought I was a student myself and with that start to the week, well, how could I have anything but a great time.

The pool was small and slightly crowded and I sacrificed some quality of the workout in order to adjust to my new surroundings, but the swim felt good and the little quirks (like getting gently knocked in the head by a woman who insisted on doing the double backstroke every other length) made me laugh in the water.

Running was also done on campus, which had more than its share of hills, and the new scenery was refreshing. Bike workouts were done in my brother's basement on my stationary trainer, and for a week, singing out loud to my iPod while I clicked up the gears for strength intervals startled the dog instead of my landlord.

My brother returned from the gym one night to announce had completed a new personal best distance on the treadmill while my sister-in-law, who also did a new personal best, asked me some questions.

And the beautiful thing was the nature of my "influence" on two people so very dear in my life.

All three of us joked during the week about "guilt" and "judgement" because, well, there was none. They could have sat home every night eating two bags of chips, a half gallon of ice cream and two liters of soda pop and it would not have mattered one bit to me. They get to manage their own lives.

Just I like get to manage my own.

And managing my own life means training. Managing my own life means eating a certain diet which may be unusual to others but is enjoyable to me.

I don't ask others to follow my exact lifestyle.

My brother and sister-in-law want to be healthy and happy and enjoy doing the types of things which actually make them happy and healthy. Neither of them are signing up to do any triathlons or marathons. Nor are they becoming vegetarians. They have their own lifestyle goals.

But when you start living a life which makes you happy, others notice. We like to be around people who are joyful. We become inspired by them. Sometimes we go so far as to say that we get motivation and courage from other people. But really we don't. Things like motivation and courage and even inspiration are actually inside jobs. What we get from others is a model. What we get from others is joy and love and unconditional acceptance. And being surrounded by that makes us want to live our own best lives, however that may look.

Being authentic isn't just the best way to show up in our own lives, it's the best way we can show up for one another.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com.amymoritz

Review: Beauty Mark

When Diane Isreal set out to make a movie about the definition of beauty in American culture, little did she realize she would have to face her own demons about body image, self worth and ideals of beauty.

An accomplished runner and triathlete, she had her own battles with eating disorders, over-exercising and feelings of self-worth, something unfortunately not unique to the world of athletics.

As she examined cultural definitions of beauty, Isreal discovers that she has to explore her own family story before she can look at the issue more globally.

The result is the documentary Beauty Mark, a movie which strikes a chord with anyone who ever had second thoughts about the way in which they look, anyone who thought the their outsides didn't quite match up with their insides.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I know Diane Isreal, having met her in 2005 at a Women's Quest retreat in Colorado while she was working on the project. And when I saw there was a screening of of the movie at Binghamton University while I was in town visiting my brother and sister-in-law it was high on my priority list.

Isreal began running competitively at 14. She won the Pikes Peak Marathon and after burning out at 26.2 miles, decided to enter triathlons. She was a player on the professional circuit until age 28, when she collapsed from exhaustion in a race. Her body was broken from over training and not eating.

She was a good athlete who could have been great but she was too thin.

Too thin?

Yes. And she wasn't alone in her story. Throughout the movie, she interviews other female athletes who struggled with body image and issues with food. She wasn't the only one who survived only on a Power Bar for lunch and a salad for dinner. Survived that is, until her body finally revolted.

Isreal then examines her own family dynamic -- having a father who drove her to excel at athletics, a mother who was breathtakingly beautiful but suffered from mental illness and an older brother who was sent away when it was clear he was born with developmental issues.

From there, the movie turns toward examining beauty in the media including interviews with The Beauty Myth author Naomi Wolf, New York Times health reporter Jane Brody and Jane Scott, who was in charge of the global research was used as the foundation for the Dove Real Beauty campaign.

What does beauty have to do with athletics?

A whole lot, on a lot of different levels.

But in this documentary, the issue revolves around body image and what individuals believe about their bodies. There is a competitive edge to be gained from being lean and thin, but the line between drive and obsession is easily blurred.

The film ends with no firm conclusions, choosing instead to challenge individuals to define beauty for themselves and to make peace with their own body image. It's a fitting finish since each person needs to find that definition, that comfort level, for him and herself. Just as we can't fit into an industry standard of beauty nor can we all fit into one definition of positive body image.

--- Amy Moritz
Follow Journey to the Finish Line on Twitter at www.twitter.com/amymoritz