Sweat Like A Pig

Kickin' Ice at Icebreaker 2012

2012-01-30T17:30:00.000-06:00

Hard to believe it's already been a year since I ran the Icebreaker Indoor Marathon! As you may recall, it was the most fun I've ever had running around in circles.

Until now.

I know what you're thinking:

What could possibly be more fun than running around in circles for 26.2 miles???

The answer is simple, my friends: Running around in circles for 26.2 miles as part of a team.

That's right; this year I took on the Icebreaker Marathon Relay as part of Team Frosty Femmes. My speedy teammates (Kristi, Juliet and Nikki) and I had two goals: run fast and win hardware. Based on the 2011 relay results, we thought we stood a pretty good chance of placing among the top 3 female teams. Possibly even winning. We were hopeful, determined, strong...

And then two other Peoria-area all-female teams were formed, including a team headed up by our very own FAST coach, Maggie. Her team, Illini Quad, consisted of a bunch of gals who (a) were 11 years younger than the average age of my team and (b) all ran cross-country competitively in college.

Oh crap.

The local running community was buzzing about these two teams who all had talented runners on them and both wanted to win. People were even wagering on it. Who would be victorious?

Suddenly, our goal of placing wasn't enough. Our new goal was to beat Maggie's team. In the weeks leading up to the race, every time I or one of my team members ran into Maggie, growls and evil glares were exchanged.

Before we knew it, race day was upon us. It was time to prove just how awesome we really were.

The relay didn't start until 1pm, so we had a lot of time to sit around, watch the half-marathon races, chat, snack, and exchange more evil glares. We also made last-minute tweaks to our race strategy.

Strategy, you ask? How complicated could it be? Each person runs 6.55 miles, right?

WRONG!

What makes an indoor marathon relay so unique is that team members can switch off as often as they like, in any order they like, to run any distance they like, so long as the team runs 96 laps total. You might think, given that knowledge, that it would be best to have team members run one lap at a time, as fast as possible. But, team members have to hand off an ankle bracelet timing device each time they switch off, which wastes valuable seconds. So there's a delicate balance between how short of intervals team members run and how much time is wasted transferring the ankle bracelet.

Our team's tentative plan was as follows, with the understanding that we could modify this plan at any time during the race, depending how team members were feeling. Keep in mind that 1 lap is 443 meters, so 4 laps just over 1 mile.

Me: 4 laps
Juliet: 2 laps
Kristi: 3 laps
Juliet: 2 laps
Nikki: 6-8 laps
Lather, rinse, repeat, for 96 laps total. This plan was designed to allow each of us to run the distance we felt we could run the strongest. For Juliet, that was short bursts of about 800m. For Nikki, that was 1.5-2 mile segments. For me and Kristi, it was about 1 mile increments.

Peoria-area runner chicks chillin' before the start of the relay
(L to R: Juliet, Nikki, me, Maggie, Louisa, Kristi, Katie W, Katie O, and Laura)

We ended up sticking to our plan almost exactly. And let me tell ya, it wasn't easy. It took a couple of hand-offs before we mastered the fine art of efficient timing chip transfer. And because there was so much time between a given runner's intervals, it was nearly impossible to stay warm and loose. It was essentially a speed interval workout with extremely long recovery periods.

I'm running so fast, you can see through me.
I didn't even know that was possible, but the camera doesn't lie!

Maggie's team seemed to be implementing a similar strategy to ours, playing up each individual runners' strengths. There were times during the race where we seemed to be surging ahead of her team... and there were even more times during the race where we were falling behind. We were just no match for a team of 25-year-old former cross-country stars. But that didn't mean we didn't put up an admirable fight.

Our team placed 3rd in the female division with a time of 3:05:54. Take a moment to stop and ponder how fast that really is. That's an average pace of 7:05. For 26.2 miles! This time would have won us 1st place in last year's race. This year, the field was that much more competitive. Three minutes ahead of us was the 2nd place female team. And then there was Maggie's team, who ran a blisteringly fast 2:55:25 for the win. Huge congrats to them - what an outstanding performance! And the other Peoria-area team, The FASTies, also ran strong and broke the 4:30 marathon barrier. Way to go!

It's amazing what four people can accomplish when they work together!

But that's not all, folks. I served a dual purpose this weekend. Not only was I a runner, but I was also a videographer. As a favor to the race director, I shot video all weekend long (except when I was running) and created a promotional video. So now, I present to you my very first video race report!

If, after watching that, you have any doubt remaining about how cool the indoor marathon experience is (both literally and figuratively), then I have not done my job as a blogger or film producer. You should fire me. Except that I don't work for you, so you can't. Ha!

And the good news, for all of you wanna-be indoor marathoners, is that you don't have to wait until next January to try this. There is a new event coming this July 28 called Heatbreaker, and as you may have surmised from the name, it is great a way to escape the mid-summer heat. This event is a half-marathon event only... but never fear, you marathon addicts! There are four half-marathons spread out over the course of one day (spaced three hours apart), and runners can choose to run one, two, three or all four races. FOUR half-marathons! Can you imagine? For those of you who are not mathematically inclined, that's a total of 52.4 miles. In one day!

Now, I know you're thinking that I'm the sort of person who is just crazy enough to run four half-marathons in one day. I can assure you, I'm not that crazy... yet. But I have never been one to pass up a good challenge, so I will be running the Two-Alarm Challenge at Heatbreaker, which is back-to-back half-marathons. Some have argued that that's the same as running a full marathon. I beg to differ. One would not normally sit down and relax for 45 minutes in the middle of a full marathon. So, as you can see, it's totally different from a full marathon.

And, as usual, I will not be doing this alone. Fellow Goofy Challenger, Kristi, is also on board for the Two-Alarm Challenge. Let's see how many other people I can coerce... er, I mean, encourage to do one of these events! Milwaukee will never know what hit it. Who's with me???

Peace. Love. Train.

Walt Disney World Marathon Weekend: Kristi & Evily's Goofy Adventure

2012-01-18T17:30:00.000-06:00

When I first started writing this race report, I figured I'd write it like any other race report... long and detailed. But the more I thought about it, the less appropriate it felt for an event like the Walt Disney World Marathon Weekend. And so, instead of lengthy prose, I give you... *drum roll*... a song! Because "It's a Small World" is far too annoying of a song (sorry, Disney), these lyrics are sung to the Gilligan's Island theme song (which is marginally less annoying).

*begin music*

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale

a tale of hell and heaven

that started from Midway Airport

aboard this 737

There was a tall blonde runner chick

and a short brunette for sure.

They were headed down to Disney World

For a race-running tour...

a race-running tour!

The Goofy Challenge was their quest

They hoped they would come through

They were going to run 13.1

plus 26.2!

The race expo was super-huge

and they wandered aimlessly

They bought t-shirts to brag about

their accomplishment-to-be.

After traveling all day they wanted some food

So they hopped on a pontoon boat

They set sail for Downtown Disney

on a 30-minute float...

a 30 minute float.

The House of Blues had yummy food

They ate and ate and ate.

But they had to wake at 2:30am,

so they couldn't stay up late.

They took a bus to the half-marathon start

It was a long and early ride

Then they walked a mile to Corral D

where they waited side-by-side.

The wheelchairs started at 5:30

then Corral A, then B and then C.

Finally it was time for "Da best" corral

to start its 13.1-mile journey...

13.1-mile journey.

The path was narrow, the runners were many;

They couldn't get ahead.

So they went with the flow and saved their legs

for the next day's journey of dread.

They reached the finish line intact

They still felt pretty good

They both received a Donald medal

just like they knew they would.

They spent the rest of the day at the pool

trying to relax

Then they went back to House of Blues

and carb-loaded to the max.

At 7:30 they went to bed

and fell fast asleep

But they still were quite unhappy

When the 2:30 alarm started to beep.

They donned their tutus and their Bad Axe Pigeon shirts

and headed back to Corral D

The port-a-potty lines weren't as long

So they had lots of time to pee.

The marathon began on time

They ran and ran and ran

through Epcot and Magic Kingdom

and then the pain began...

and then the pain began.

The miles got longer, their feet were sore

The sun was getting hot.

They took fun and silly photo breaks

every chance they got.

Lots of people noticed their shirts

Some asked "What's Bad Axe Pigeon?"

Other people recognized the towns

and yelled "Yeah Michigan!"

In Animal Kingdom they searched for a goat

but instead they found a sheep.

They also found a tiny owl

they really wanted to keep.

They nearly died at Mile 18

and have the picture to prove it.

At Mile 21, the green Army man

told them to "Move it! Move it!"

They hobbled as the pain grew worse

There were blisters everywhere

They dreamed of crossing the finish line

and sitting in a chair.

At Mile 26 their spirits soared

with the sounds of a gospel choir

The finish line was in sight

two more medals they would acquire!

They ran toward the finish line

shuffling with all their might

They crossed the finish victoriously

A stinky, proud, tired rainbow sight.

Two more medals they did collect

for a grand total of three

They weighed at least 2 tons apiece

They were very hard to carry!

The blonde and brunette runner chicks

were really rather proud

But the pain was just too intense

"Never again!" they both vowed.

Peace. Love. Train.

2011: The Year In Pictures

2011-12-31T15:34:00.000-06:00

Well friends, yet another year of running has come to a close, and this is a great time to look back on all that has happened in the last year. I could sit here and type up a table of statistics and make up some pie charts for you (which actually sounds like a lot of fun to my engineering brain), but I know you'd all rather watch paint dry. So instead, I'm going to look back on 2011 in true SLAP style: pictorially.

I logged a total 1,932 miles in 2011. (That's over 500 miles more than I ran in 2010!) And every one of those 1,932 miles had a purpose. Some of the miles were fast, many of them were slow. Some of them were race miles, most of them were training miles. Some of them were logged on my own, and some of them were logged with friends. But every mile made me a stronger runner in some way.

So without further ado, let's look at some of the highlights of those 1,932 miles!

The first event of 2011 was the Icebreaker Indoor Marathon in January, where I PR'd with a time of 4:53, finally breaking the 5-hour barrier. After that, I told myself I wouldn't run anymore marathons in 2011. Turns out I lied to myself.

In April, I ran under an assumed identity, along with several fellow FASTies (who ran under their real names) at the Lincoln Presidential Half-Marathon... and Honest Abe didn't seem to care about my fraudulent behavior.

My BFF, Shelley, and I had a blast at Flying Pig weekend in Cincinnati, where we ran the 5k, 10k, and half-marathon events... just for fun! We also ate a lot of cupcakes.

In Indianapolis, I broke 2 hours in the half-marathon for the first time. I began contemplating a very aggressive fall marathon goal of under 4:00, despite having told myself in January that I wasn't running anymore marathons in 2011.

In the stifling heat/humidity of July, Kristi and I tackled the super-hilly, super-fun Bix 7 race. And we took full advantage of the post-race food and frosty beverages.

In August, I forgot to bring my running shoes to a race weekend in Madison... so I ran the half-marathon in $15 Walmart sneakers. My friends Becky and Kristi teased me mercilessly. I deserved it.

At the Pekin Marigold Festival 5k, I set my third 5k PR for the year and took home a 1st place trophy.

At the Fox Valley races in September, it was PR-city for several FASTies, including Katie, Kristi, and me in the half-marathon. And as a completely unexpected bonus, I took home a 3rd place trophy too!

Of all of the wonderful races I ran in 2011, Milwaukee's Lakefront Marathon in October was the pièce de résistance. It was both the most difficult and most rewarding event of the year. And the post-race beer was outstanding.

Shelley and I ran all the way from the USA to Canada in the Niagara Falls International Marathon. It was Shelley's first marathon ever, and my first marathon in another country. How come every time I run with Shelley, I'm wearing a tutu?

And there you have it... just a few of the most memorable miles of 2011. What will 2012 bring? Only time will tell, but I have a feeling there will be many more memorable miles to come. Happy New Year from SLAP!

Peace. Love. Train.

Those Three Special Little Words Every Marathoner Loves To Hear...

2011-12-18T15:53:00.001-06:00

"It's taper time!"

Hard to believe it, but the Goofy Challenge is only 3 weeks away. That means we are entering our beloved taper phase. *sighs contentedly* As such, I think this is an excellent time to reflect on the highs and lows of this relatively brief training period.

Training for the Goofy Challenge is similar to training for any marathon: run a lot of miles. The main difference is that one needs to become accustomed to running two long-ish runs on consecutive days. For me, this meant doing a middle-distance run on Saturdays, followed by a long-distance run on Sundays. My training buddy, Kristi, took the opposite approach, by doing a long run on Sundays followed by a middle-distance run on Mondays, just because this worked better with her schedule. Either way, the idea is to get the legs used to running while tired. And boy did we tire our legs out!

As I mentioned earlier, training for this event was relatively brief. We both ran late-October marathons, which we then had to recover from before we could ramp up our mileage again in preparation for Goofy. So my weekend training schedule looked like this:

Week 1: Saturday - 6 miles, Sunday - 14 miles
Week 2: Saturday - 7 miles, Sunday - 16 miles
Week 3: Saturday - 8 miles, Sunday - 18 miles (and a brutal 18 miles it was, thanks to three straight weeks of building up)
Week 4: Saturday - 6 miles, Sunday - 12 miles (ahhhh, relief!)
Week 5: Saturday - 10 miles, Sunday - 20 miles (that was today!)
Weeks 6, 7 and 8: Taper!!!

So yes, this was a very condensed and accelerated training plan, simply out of necessity. I would not recommend anyone but the most seasoned marathoner / crazy person attempt this plan.

After logging 30 total miles this weekend, I now feel well-prepared to take on the 39.3 miles of the Goofy Challenge. And I now have a pretty good idea of how I'll feel after finishing the Goofy Challenge: very, very tired and pretty damn sore. But at least I'm prepared for that feeling!

The great thing about this training weekend was that it felt much better than my training weekend two weeks ago. The 8/18-mile weekend was definitely a low point in this training schedule. About 6 miles into the 18-miler, my legs started to feel like lead (and Kristi said the same thing, so it wasn't just me!). The last 3 miles of that run were a death march for both of us. Kristi and I both commented that neither of us had felt so completely and utterly horrible during a long run before. Needless to say, it shook our confidence a little bit.

But it's amazing what a recovery week can do for the mind, body and soul. Week 4 of training was exactly what we both needed to rest our tired legs and prepare for peak training week.

So the lesson out of all of this is that, at least for me and Kristi, three weeks of mileage buildup in a row is a bit too much. But the recovery week worked its magic and we were able to finish our peak training week with renewed vigor. Or something resembling vigor.

I would like to take this opportunity to give a little shout-out to Mother Nature for being relatively cooperative during this training period. Late fall / early winter marathon training is not easy. Especially for those of us who are self-proclaimed cold weather wusses. I hate the cold. And I hate the wind. And did I mention that I hate the cold? But somehow, we managed to run three of our five long runs outdoors, including today's 20-miler. We battled some serious wind during these outdoor runs, but it still beat running around in circles at the gym.

And now I'd like to give a HUGE shout-out to my training partner, Kristi. I wouldn't have gotten through all of my long runs without her. Indeed, it's extremely likely that I would've bailed on my 18-miler at about Mile 10 if she hadn't been there suffering right alongside me. Misery really does love company!

People often ask me "What do you think about while you're running for so long?" Maybe a better question would be "What don't you think about while running for so long?", but when you have a buddy to run with, it really does make the miles go by much more quickly. We certainly don't talk the entire 20 miles, and the last several miles tend to be very quiet as we become more internally-focused on our bodies and just putting one foot in front of the other, but there's something calming and reassuring about having someone else to share the experience with. So thanks, Kristi, for the camaraderie.

And you know what else Kristi is always there for? The post-long-run food. The best part about long runs is when they're over and we get to go eat delicious things at our favorite local restaurants. Today's cuisine of choice? Gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Is there anything better on a chilly winter's day? I think not.

So it seems to me that successful marathon training is really composed of two critical features: running many miles (with a good friend), and eating tasty food (also with a good friend). Yes, I think that about sums it up. Now, without further ado, let's get this taper started!

*does happy taper dance*

Peace. Love. Train.

'Tis The Season...

2011-11-27T15:32:00.001-06:00

...for a lot of indoor running!

In less than a month, winter will officially be upon us, and already we are being subjected to crappy weather and a severe lack of daylight in good ol' Central Illinois. Distance runners like me have two choices: (1) suck it up and run outside in the freezing cold and pitch black dark, or (2) act like wusses and run in the temperature-controlled and well-lit indoors on treadmills and tracks.

I'm a wuss and I'm proud of it.

It's not that I don't like running in the cold, but the fact that cold is often accompanied by rain, snow, sleet, ice, and a ridiculous amount of wind. I HATE WIND! (The fact that I typed that in all caps, bold and italics should adequately reflect my level of hatred for strong wind.) So in order to avoid the adverse conditions of the upper Midwestern winter, I find myself running indoors a lot these days.

I'm currently in training for the Walt Disney World Goofy Challenge in January. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, it's a half-marathon on Saturday followed by a full marathon on Sunday... That's right: over 39 miles in 2 days. For fun! My good friend, marathon training buddy, and Bad Axe Pigeon bandmate, Kristi is also engaging in this crazy endeavor with me. Thank goodness for that, because I'm not sure I could get through the long runs without her.

Just this morning, we did a 16-mile long run on an indoor track. On this particular track, that was 120 laps. There's no feeling quite like being on a 120-lap run, feeling like you've already run 75, and looking at the lap counter on your watch and seeing you've only run 10. Even with a great running buddy, an indoor long run can be mentally fatiguing. People often ask us how we do it.

How do we combat the mental fatigue when running around in circles for hours and hours?

Well, it's not easy, but we've found that a clinically-proven combination of guided imagery and creative visualization really helps.

Will run for food/beverages. Mmmmm... falafel.

Peace. Love. Train.

The Gimpy Twins Take on Niagara Falls

2011-10-28T15:47:00.000-05:00

I have always been a firm believer that a marathon is much, much more than just a race. It's an adventure. And not just the event itself, but also the months of training leading up to it. One cannot truly understand the epic journey of the marathon until one experiences it for oneself. So when my Canadian BFF Shelley told me several months ago that she wanted to train for and run her first marathon, I knew I had to be with her on her marathon adventure.

The site of her adventure: Niagara Falls International Marathon.

My long-time readers may remember that she and I ran this event last year, as a two-person marathon relay team. So we actually ran the full marathon course once before, but we each saw two different halves of it. This year we were both going the whole way.

Despite having just run a huge PR at the Lakefront Marathon three weeks earlier, I was feeling surprisingly good in the week before Niagara Falls. My legs had much of their pep back, and I was really looking forward to a more leisurely marathon experience. Shelley's only goal was to simply finish, which meant no time or pace pressure.

I arrived in Buffalo, NY the day before the marathon. My flight was on time and uneventful. I deplaned (am I the only person who thinks that's a weird word?) and made my way out of the terminal. As I always do when I visit Shelley, I spotted her and ran toward her to give her a big ol' American hug. What happened next is beyond inexplicable. One second, we were hugging and squealing. The next, we were crashing down to the floor, Shelley on top of me. People stared. We acted like we totally meant to fall over.

Unfortunately, somehow during the toppling over, my ankle had gotten twisted in an unnatural way. It didn't seem too bad, just a little sore. I figured I'd just walk it off and be okay. I collected my luggage, and Shelley and I made the drive from Buffalo to Niagara Falls.

Since Shelley is Canadian, she actually has to drive across the US border to pick me up at the airport, and then we drive back across the Canadian border together. Border patrol officials are always intrigued by us and like to give Shelley the third degree.

Officer: "Where are you from?"
Shelley: "Well, I'm from Hamilton, Ontario, and she's from Illinois."
Officer: "And how do you know each other?"
Shelley: "We're friends."
Officer: "How did you meet?"
Shelley: "On the internet"
Officer: *raising eyebrows* "Oh really?"
Shelley: "Yes. We met on the internet 6 years ago."
Officer: *looking intrigued and a little frightened* "Is this your first time meeting in person?"
Shelley: "No. We've gotten together many times."
Officer: "Okay then. What are your plans for this visit?"
Shelley: "We're coming back to Buffalo tomorrow morning to run a marathon back across the border up to Niagara Falls."
Officer: *looking dumbfounded* "So, let me get this straight: You met on the internet 6 years ago. You drove into the US to pick up your friend, and are driving back into Canada tonight, so that you can drive back into the US tomorrow morning and then run back into Canada."
Shelley: "Yep!"
Officer: "Um. Okay then. Well, good luck in your marathon!"

Our first stop upon crossing the border was the marathon expo, at the Skylon Tower in Niagara Falls. In order to pick up a packet for the full marathon, runners must present their passports to Canadian customs officials at the expo. This allows us to run across the border without having to stop and show our passports during the actual marathon. Upon clearing customs, we were able to pick up our bib numbers and race swag. And what wonderful swag it was!

Gender-specific long-sleeved tech shirt, cute running hat, personalized race bib, and lots of FOOD! Yes, that's a whole box of spaghetti noodles. Mmmm... carbs.

We then proceeded to our hotel, where we found the view from our "Partial Fallsview" room to be rather ho-hum.

American Falls, as seen from our room at the Sheraton.

Did I say ho-hum? Because I meant friggin' awesome! Also, our room had a television in the bathroom. If that isn't the height of awesomeness, I don't know what is. Once we got all settled into our room, we realized quickly that we were very, very hungry.

Commence carb-loading!

Last year, we carb-loaded at a wonderful Italian restaurant called Carpaccio's. It was so wonderful, in fact, that we decided to return this year. We were not disappointed.

Spaghetti! (Of which I had already eaten some before I remembered to take a picture. What can I say? I was hungry!)

Roasted vegetable pizza!

Apple tartlet. Amazing.

We then returned to our hotel in a full-on carb coma. Somehow we managed to put together our race outfits and set a couple of alarms for the morning. I also got some ice for my ankle, which was now very obviously swollen and tender. I remained positive about the marathon despite this. We went to bed early and slept as well as anyone ever does the night before a marathon (that is to say, not very well).

Before we knew it, it was race morning. We went through the usual pre-race preparations, except for eating breakfast, and headed down to catch the shuttle bus to the race start at about 7:30am. My ankle was definitely stiff, and a little sore, but I was still optimistic. The marathon starts at 10am, which is a pretty late start, if you ask me. Because of this, we held off eating our bagels and bananas until we were on the bus.

And what an interesting bus-ride it was!

First, our bus driver was clearly lost, as she drove around the same block a couple of times trying to find her way out of Niagara Falls. Fortunately, she did eventually get directions and we were soon on the road.

The ride seemed to last forever. Just like Lakefront Marathon, this marathon is a point-to-point course, and for some reason, point-to-point courses seem much longer than loop courses. The endless bus ride really puts into perspective just how long a marathon actually is. It makes even the most seasoned marathon veteran a little nervous.

When we reached the US border, we all whipped out our passports (mine was conveniently stored in my sports bra), ready to face the border patrol officers. We had to wait in a long line of buses, and it seemed to take forever, but finally two officers boarded the bus and checked everyone's passport one-by-one. Just when I thought we were in the clear, the officers pulled four people off of our bus and told the bus driver to pull of the side and wait. It turned out those four people were neither US nor Canadian citizens, and they didn't have the required documentation to enter the US. The documentation they needed cost money. And none of those four people had brought any money with them. Oopsie! Fortunately, some other generous runners coughed up their own money to help out the runners in need, and then we were all on our way.

We finally arrived at the beautiful Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, NY with just over an hour to kill. We hit up the restrooms (much better than port-o-potties), and wandered around the gallery, admiring the fine works of art.

I can sense the artist's inner turmoil from the expressive use of colors and textures. Or something like that.

Oh, and did I mention I was wearing my tutu for this marathon? No? Well, now you know. And as far as we could tell, I was the only runner in the whole race wearing a tutu. This meant I got a lot of comments. Shelley and I decided to make a game of it, and keep count of all the tutu-related comments I got during the marathon.

With about 15 minutes until race start, we wandered outside and positioned ourselves in the start corral. This is a small marathon, with only about 1,100 in the full marathon. (Incidentally, this is one of the few fall marathons that does not sell out, and for as scenic and flat as the course is, I find this very surprising. Take note, all of you runners who like to wait til the last minute to sign up for your fall marathons!)

Before we knew it (and we really didn't know it, because there was no gun or cannon to indicate the race had started), we were off!

50 yards down, only 26.18 miles to go!

The weather was beautiful. Sunny, cool, and crisp. The first few miles, through the beautiful neighborhoods of Buffalo (yes, Buffalo really does have beautiful neighborhoods!), went swimmingly. My ankle didn't hurt to run on, and we were keeping a comfortable and conservative pace. These miles seemed to fly right by, and suddenly we were approaching the Peace Bridge into Canada. Just as we were getting ready to turn onto the bridge, we witnessed a marathon marriage proposal! A male spectator was holding a sign that read "I love you. Marry me." and his girlfriend was running right beside us. She said yes. (Everybody in unison now: "awwwwww!")

Once the excitement of the marriage proposal was over, Shelley quickly realized she was on the bridge. And it was a big bridge. And Shelley is, well, terrified of heights. I was willing to do whatever was necessary to get her across the bridge, even if it meant holding her hand and leading her across while she kept her eyes shut.

Shelley, however, was a bad-ass marathon-bridge-crossing animal. She powered through, seemingly unbothered by the fact that we were 100 feet above the Niagara River. She even paused to take a couple photos.

As we crossed the border to Canada, we sang the Official Evily rendition of the Canadian national anthem. It was beautiful and moving. And by "beautiful and moving" I mean "off-key and amusing". And by the time we left the US, I had amassed a dozen tutu comments.

The rest of the marathon, from Mile 6 onward, is run along the Niagara Parkway, which is the road that travels alongside the Niagara River, on the Canada side. It's very beautiful and scenic, but spectators are few and far between. It's actually a lot like Lakefront Marathon in that regard. However, the volunteers at the aid stations, which were roughly at every mile, provided enough enthusiasm and entertainment to more than make up for any lack of spectators. They were, quite simply, awesome. And the tutu got a lot of attention from aid station volunteers. I would say 75% of my tutu comments came from the volunteers. At one aid station, staffed by what appeared to be middle-school-aged cheerleaders, a young girl squealed with delight, "Ohmygod, I LOVE your outfit! That is every girl's dream!" I wasn't sure if she meant the outfit itself, or running a marathon in said outfit. But it was fun counting the number of comments. I set a goal of getting 50 comments by the end of the marathon; with a stretch goal of 60.

Shelley and I were trucking along quite nicely, feeling generally good (even my ankle felt fine). But at around Mile 8, things took a turn when Shelley's IT band started hurting. Badly. She had no choice but to begin inserting walk breaks. I didn't mind; I was in no hurry and had no goal time for this marathon. Just finish. And if walking was what it took to finish, then so be it.

Unfortunately, the walking started to take its toll on my ankle. For some reason, running didn't hurt, but walking did. So, for 18 miles, we alternated walking and running. When we walked, she felt better, and when we ran, I felt better. I could tell she wasn't happy about having to walk because she proclaimed, quite emphatically, "I am never doing this again. I am never running any races ever again!" Naturally, I didn't believe a word of it.

The miles passed more slowly now than they had earlier. The sun was out in full-force, and even though it wasn't hot, it was still quite warm as far as late-October marathoning is concerned. We were both thankful we had opted not to wear long-sleeved shirts. I was starving. I wanted food badly. And beer. But we had 10 more miles to go... 9 more miles... 8 more miles. Hey, 8 miles really isn't that far! We could even see the tall hotel buildings of Niagara Falls way in the distance. The finish was literally in sight. Before we knew it, we had passed Mile 20. Delirium had set in. For reasons I can't explain, we stopped to take a picture at the Mile 21 marker.

I have no idea why.

And as we hobbled slowly along, we saw one of those Brightroom photographers sitting along the side of the road with his big camera. I said to Shelley "We have to run and look happy, so we look good for the picture!" And so we mustered up enough energy to look reasonably peppy for the photographer, and as we jogged past him, he said in a very creepy voice "Ohhhhh yeeeeahhhh...." Thank you, pervy Brightroom dude, for that inappropriate display of affection.

"Ohhhhh yeeeeahhhh..."

For the rest of the race, we alternated hobbling and shuffling (what would you call that? huffling? shobbling?) until we reached the most glorious mile marker: Mile 26. And then I stopped to take a picture.

A rainbow in the mist of Horseshoe Falls at Mile 26

We were so very, very close to the finish. And so we gathered up every last ounce of energy we had left and ran the last 0.2 miles. There was no stopping us now. Shelley was about to finish her first marathon and I was going to be right there with her. Since she was worried about finishing last, I promised her that I would let her finish ahead of me so that she couldn't possibly be last.

We did it!!!

Sure enough, per the official results, Shelley finished 0.5 seconds ahead of me.

Shelley had achieved her goal of finishing a marathon. As her coach and her friend, I was doubly proud of her. She had trained hard for it, and even though she struggled with IT band problems, she still pushed through and finished strong. 26 miles is not easy even under ideal circumstances, but it's much, much more difficult when body parts are in pain.

As for me, my ankle took a bit of a beating on that marathon course, but it was worth it because I met and exceeded my tutu comment goal. I garnered a staggering 69 tutu comments over the course of 26.2 miles, plus quite a few before and after the race. In a race without many spectators, I think this is pretty impressive.

We collected our shiny medals and hobbled back to our hotel for the most cherished of post-marathon activities: the hot showers. And then we hobbled to the Hard Rock Cafe for the other most cherished of post-marathon activities: refueling (foods with lots of cheese on them) and rehydrating (beer).

Feeling much better after showers, food and beverages!

And as for Shelley's proclamation that she was never running a marathon ever again... Well, I was all prepared to unleash a whole big encouraging pep-talk spiel on her, maybe a week or two after the marathon, but as it turned out, I didn't need to. Allow me to show you what she posted on Facebook the day after the marathon.

Well that was easy! *saunters away smugly*

Peace. Love. Train.

Milwaukee's Lakefront Marathon: How I Became An Official Badass

2011-10-05T17:36:00.000-05:00

I would just like to start off by saying that I am not declaring myself to be an official badass. That would be presumptuous. No, that declaration was made by my own Coach Brad, who is an expert in the field of badassology (true story). So if Coach Brad calls someone a badass, you don't argue with him.

Now, allow me to explain how I became an official badass. It wasn't easy. Earning such a prestigious title never is. But it was absolutely worth the effort.

It actually started months ago, before I even began training for the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon. A seed was planted in my mind, after I ran my first sub-2:00 half-marathon. A good friend and fellow marathoner (who runs really really fast) said to me, "I think you should shoot for sub-4:00 in the marathon." At first, I laughed him off. Ridiculous! I just barely broke 5 hours in the marathon in January. No way was I ready to conquer sub-4:00 in the same year!

But as much as I tried to ignore it, the seed had been planted and was starting to take root in my somewhat-competitive brain. Maybe it wasn't that far-fetched after all. Maybe if I trained really hard over the summer, it could be done. Maybe if the weather on race day was just right, I would stand a chance. So before I knew it, The Sub-4:00 Marathon had become my ultimate goal.

It's worth noting that the pace required to finish a marathon just under 4 hours is 9:09 min/mile. Two years ago, I could barely run a 5k at this pace. The thought of trying to cover 26 miles at this pace was positively terrifying. I believe I had several panic attacks about it during the course of marathon training.

Fortunately, the panicking led to working hard. I trained harder for this marathon than for any of my other previous four marathons. When I say "harder", I don't mean I ran at a higher intensity. If anything, the vast majority of my mileage was easy to moderate in intensity. But I ran a lot more miles than before. Instead of peaking at 40 miles per week during training, I peaked at 56 miles. And I averaged 45 miles per week during my training season. It's simple: the more you run, the easier it gets. The trick is running more without getting injured, and that's why the bulk of my mileage tended toward the easy side. A funny thing happened, though: the more miles I ran, the faster my easy pace became. So when taper time rolled around, I was actually feeling pretty good about my ability to at least knock out a 4:15 marathon on race day. That would still be a very substantial PR.

Fast-forward to race weekend...

The weather forecasts for race day had me a bit worried, because even though the temperature looked great (low 40's for race start, low 60's by the finish), the predicted 25 mph headwind did NOT. Lakefront Marathon is a north-to-south point-to-point course, so the worst possible wind scenario is a strong wind out of the south. Unfortunately, that was what they were predicting. I remained optimistic despite this and reminded myself that weather forecasts are often a load of made-up crap.

I arrived in beautiful Milwaukee on Friday evening, where I headed immediately to the small race expo (pretty much what you'd expect from an event this size) and picked up my race packet. Packet pick-up was well-organized, and I was in and out in a matter of minutes. The swag was pretty decent. I really like the race shirt, which is a gender-specific tech shirt that looks red in this picture, but is really more of an orangey-salmon color in person. Very unique. I also loved the custom-printed personalized race bibs. The names were highly visible, which ended up being a very good thing for me on race day, as you will soon see.

The swag: a tech shirt, a custom race bib, and some other random crap that I'll probably throw away.

On Saturday before the race, I had a lot of time to kill, but I couldn't very well go around sightseeing. I needed to rest my legs and feet as much as possible. So I walked a couple blocks to Starbucks, and a few blocks to a pizza place for lunch - just enough to keep the legs loose. And then I decided to be a little adventurous and go on a tour of one of Milwaukee's many breweries. I chose Lakefront Brewery after I saw that it was rated #4 on the list of Top 10 Brewery Tours in the US. I was not disappointed. Without going into a ton of detail, I learned a lot about beer, I got to sample some very tasty beers, and I was crowned the Bung Queen by the tour guide.

Okay, I know what you're wondering: What did you learn about beer and what kind of beers did you sample?

Oh, and you might also be wondering what the heck a Bung Queen is. It's not as weird as it sounds, I swear.

Okay, it's exactly as weird as it sounds. But not in the way you think. You see, a bung is a round wooden stopper used to plug up beer kegs after they're filled. The hole in the barrel is known as the bung hole. In order to insert the bung into the bung hole, in the old days, they would use a large wooden mallet known as a bung-whacker. I swear on Prefontaine's grave, I am not making this up. Anyway, the tour guide was so impressed with my enthusiasm on the tour, and the fact that I took approximately 3,679 pictures during the 45 minute tour, that he crowned me the Bung Queen and bestowed upon me my very own bung. All the other people on the tour were green with envy.

Tour guide Sir Willow shows us his bung hole. The one in the keg, I mean.

After being crowned the Bung Queen, I didn't see how my weekend could possibly get any better! But just you wait, boys and girls...

My tour was early in the afternoon on Saturday, allowing me the rest of the day to relax at the hotel and stay off my feet. I decided to have dinner in the hotel restaurant, since they had a pasta special and it wouldn't involve walking anywhere. At first, dinner was pretty uneventful and I just sitting there by myself worrying about the impending race... until two women were seated at the table next to me who had Lakefront Marathon gear check bags. Ah ha! Fellow marathoners! People who could possibly commiserate with me in my state of pre-marathon madness!

I sneakily inserted myself into their marathon conversation, and the three of us spent the rest of our dinner enjoying lively and relaxed conversation about running and races we've enjoyed. Now, I don't normally weasel my way into other people's conversations but there's a special camaraderie among runners, and especially among marathoners, that allows us to be instant friends without even knowing each other's names. And sadly, I never did catch the names of these two ladies, but I want to thank them for making my carb-loading feast much more enjoyable and taking my mind off my marathon worries. I hope they both achieved their marathon day goals.

Later that evening, as I was getting ready for bed, I had a couple moments of "OMG, I'm running a marathon tomorrow!" but for the most part, I felt surprisingly calm. I set three alarms, and went to bed early. I slept unusually well. The first of my three alarms to go off in the morning was the clock radio, which was playing "Moves Like Jagger". I remembered this song motivating fellow FASTie Cathy in her recent marathon PR at Fox Valley. It had to be a good sign! I hopped right out of bed and did a little dance as I went through my pre-race routine. I didn't feel nervous at all. I was cool as a cucumber.

There was shuttle bus service right from my hotel to the race start in Grafton. I hopped on the bus at 6am and rode for what seemed like an eternity. The man sitting next to me on the bus said "Wow, this is a really long ride. And we have to run all the way back!" I glared at him. When we finally arrived at Grafton High School (which really did feel like a million miles away from downtown Milwaukee), I stepped off the bus into chilly morning air. I could see my own breath as I made my way into the school to stay warm.

This race is fairly small, as marathons go, with only 3,000 participants (in contrast to the Chicago Marathon's 40,000 runners). So there's no need to line up a the start an hour early. With 15 minutes to go, I moseyed outside, and I quickly found the 4:00 pace group. I wasn't planning to run with them, but I wanted to keep them in my sights as a sort of gauge, so I settled into the crowd behind them.

There was no question about it. It was cold. I was used to running in 85°+ temps all summer and now it was 39°. I had on long sleeves, mittens and a hat and I was still cold.

Brrrrr! At the starting line, ready to go!

Before I knew it, we were off. I wouldn't be cold for very long. The 4:00 pace group was about 20 or 30 feet ahead of me and I felt like they had started off a little fast, so I didn't try to catch up. I had plenty of time to catch them. The first two miles were largely downhill, so I was able to get up to speed pretty quickly. The first water station was less than two miles into the race, and I had already planned on skipping this water station. The 4:00 pace group, however, stopped at this water station (I assume the pace leaders are instructed to stop briefly at every water station) and I whizzed past them.

I never saw them again.

I would love to give you a mile-by-mile rundown of my marathon experience, but I actually remember very little about the later miles of the race due to the fact that it was all I could do to just keep moving forward. So I will break the race up into four unequal segments.

The First Half: For the most part, I felt great. I fueled according to my plan. I high-fived spectators, chatted with other runners, listened to the conversations going on around me, enjoyed the scenery and soaked up the sunshine. Somewhere around Mile 6 or 7, I ditched my gloves and hat and pushed up my sleeves. The terrain was gently rolling, mostly rural roads lined by shady trees. I crossed the halfway point in 1:58:47, a pace of 9:03.65.

Thumbs up was my theme for the first half.

The Second Half: After the halfway point, things started to get intense. My breathing wasn't labored, but my legs were feeling heavy. I was on track for sub-4:00 though, as long as I didn't slow down much, so I remained optimistic. I started to focus less on my surroundings and more on my body and keeping it moving forward. I was vaguely aware that the scenery was becoming less rural and more suburban. There were large beautiful homes on tree-lined residential streets. More spectators were out in these miles. I got a lot of "Great job, Emily!" and "You look strong, Emily!" and "Cute skirt, Emily!" which really helped snap me out of my internally-focused state. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward.

The Last Two Miles: In the 24th mile, the course takes a nosedive down a huge hill and onto the lakefront path. The downhill was wonderful. The lakefront path was not. Oh, it was scenic and beautiful whatnot, but all the shady trees were gone and the sun was now beating down on me. Not only that, but it had suddenly gotten windy and I was running against the wind. I could hear Coach Brad in my mind, yelling at me "Dig deep!". The last two miles, I had to dig very deep. They were the hardest two miles I have ever run. I could feel my calves starting to cramp up. I prayed they would hold out for just a few more minutes. Just get me to the finish line, I begged of my calves. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right, left, right.

The Last 0.2 Miles: Finally, I could make out the finish line ahead in the distance. It seemed so far away. Spectators were lined up along both sides of the path, cheering loudly. "Just 600 feet to go!" I heard one of them say. I have never calculated run distance in feet before, and I could not, for the life of me, figure out what that was in meters. My ability to do math was completely gone. All I knew was that 600 feet really wasn't very far. Not compared to the 26 miles I had already run. Then, I saw a bright spot in the line of spectators: my good friend and fellow FASTie, Becky, who had driven up to Milwaukee that morning for the sole purpose of cheering me on at the finish line. I mustered a smile, not because I was happy, but because she had a camera, and smiling for a camera is an uncontrollable reflex. Then, with less than 100 feet to the finish line, I saw another bright spot in the line of spectators. My dad reached out of the crowd and high-fived me while cheering at the top of his lungs. After seeing two people who were so dear to me, I grew wings. And then I flew across the finish line.

That's a look of victory and pain on my face. It's not too far off from the Mark Remy "race face".

I was now a sub-4-hour marathoner. I was in shock; I just couldn't believe I had really done it.

I hobbled slowly through the finish chute, and a nice man came over to me, introduced himself as "Kevin from Medical" and asked if he could walk with me for a bit. He asked me some questions about how I felt, to which I responded "Well, I'm really tired and sore, but I'm pretty happy. Oh, and I feel a little nauseous." He chuckled, and I guess he decided I wasn't delirious or knocking on death's door, so he let me go collect my medal and post-race refreshments.

My legs were toast. It took every ounce of strength I had, and then some, to hobble over to Becky, and then hobble slowly to the beer tent and then the results tent. The beer was wonderful. The official results printout was even more wonderful.

3:57:49. Sweet.

Then we found my dad, who I think was pretty darn proud of me. Indeed, he spent the rest of the afternoon telling anyone who would listen, and several people who wouldn't, that his daughter had just run a sub-4-hour marathon, and asking people if there was any sort of special "marathon discount". The waitress at the restaurant where we later had lunch apologetically replied that there was no "marathon discount", but then she brought me out a piece of chocolate cake with a candle in it. So, thanks to my dad, I got free cake. You can't beat that!

Father, daughter and beer... a trifecta of awesomeness.

I should take a moment to mention that the Lakefront Marathon was a top-notch event: well-organized, with enthusiastic volunteers, great course support and lots of great perks (free locally-brewed beer at the finish - awesome). The course, or at least what I remember of it, was beautiful. It's not a big-city marathon, and the streets aren't lined with spectators 5-deep the entire 26 miles, but the spectators who are out there are encouraging and energetic. There aren't dozens of rock bands playing at every mile, but there was a really awesome old guy singing and playing an accordion in front of his house at one point. For anyone looking for 26 miles of entertainment, this is probably not the marathon for you. But for anyone looking for a well-organized event that caters to runners who just love to run, look no further.

I also want to take some time to mention the people who helped me achieve my goals, because I could not have done it alone. Thanks, Chris, for planting the sub-4:00 seed in my brain so many months ago. And thanks to all my fellow FASTies and Stashies for your encouragement and enthusiasm as I set goals over the summer and achieved them. A special thanks to fellow FASTie Kristi for enduring so many long long runs with me, and also enduring a lot of post-run refueling at One World Cafe. It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it, right? And thank you to all my friends and family who cheered for me from afar and tracked my progress in the marathon on race day. Knowing that people were tracking me was extremely motivating, and helped keep me moving forward when my legs wanted so badly to stop. And huge thanks to Becky and my dad for being at the finish line for me and being the best cheerleaders ever. Or is it athletic supporters? No. Cheerleaders. Definitely cheerleaders. Thanks, guys. You all rock.

And of course, thanks to my coaches who didn't laugh at me when I told them I wanted to run a sub-4:00 marathon. Upon learning of my 3:57 marathon, Coach Brad posted on my Facebook wall "You are an official badass in my book." At least I think it was because of my 3:57 marathon. He didn't really say. Maybe it was actually because I had been crowned the Bung Queen. Because, that's pretty badass too.

Peace. Love. Train.

A Cure For Taper Madness, Part 2: The Fox Valley Marathon Races

2011-09-22T18:14:00.000-05:00

There is so much to say about the Fox Valley Marathon Races, that I've decided to do something a little unorthodox with this race report and tell the story mostly with pictures. Oh, there will still be plenty of words, because y'all know me - I just can't shut up. But in the interest of not boring you all to tears, I think pictures are really the way to go with this story. So let's start with a little backstory....

Fox Valley was a big event for several FASTies, so I was really excited to meet up with everyone in St Charles and have a fun race weekend. It wasn't an A-race for me, since I'm in the midst of tapering for my A-race marathon, but it was an A-race for fellow FASTies Kristi and Cathy. And it was going to be Katie's first ever half-marathon. I texted Kristi on Saturday morning to find out when she was planning to leave for St Charles. Her response...

(Click to enlarge)

...had me pretty worried. We had been looking forward to this event since January! She couldn't possibly miss it just because she wasn't "feeling the greatest". That was not an acceptable excuse! Fortunately, she texted again later to say she couldn't cancel her hotel reservation, so she was just going to "run it and hope for the best". Good, because otherwise I would've had to kidnap her and drag her to St Charles myself.

I made the 2.5 hour drive up north and headed directly to packet pickup. After I got my race packet at the small, but well-organized expo (where I was enthusiastically greeted by race officials), I headed to my hotel to check out my swag. By the way, I was relieved to note that my hotel was only a block away from Walmart... just in case.

Best.race.shirt.EVER. Comfortable and slimming. I kid you not. I look 10 lbs thinner in this shirt.

Then I met up with my fellow FASTies at a carb-loading feast at Za Za Trattoria in downtown St. Charles. This dinner was arranged by the Fox Valley Marathon organizers as an opportunity to dine with actual race officials and other runners, so we could ask questions about the event and get to know some of the people who helped make the event possible. I'd like to give a huge thanks to Dave and Jodi, who were our race committee hosts for the evening.

Dave and Jodi answer questions about the Fox Valley events while the rest of us stuff our faces with bread and olive oil.

But once the food came out, I forgot all about what's-his-name and what's-her-name from the race committee, because I was too busy drooling over my wild mushroom ravioli in a light basil cream sauce. *drool* Believe me when I say it was some of the best carb-loading I've ever done. I would drive 2.5 hours just to eat at this place, it was that good.

FOOOOOD! Oh yeah, and the FASTies are in this picture too.

*burp* All gone! I was sufficiently carb-loaded.

After a so-so night of sleep (you would think all those carbs would've knocked me right out, but I guess not), I got up bright (dark?) and early on Sunday morning and went through my usual race-prep routine. Coffee - check. Granola bar - check. Banana - check. Running shoes - double check!

Team FAST representin'! Yvonne, Kristi, me, Cathy, Katie and Louisa.

Kristi, Katie and I were all running the half-marathon, so we decided to carpool together. It took a little effort to find a parking spot, but all things considered, being parked in FREE parking just 3 blocks away from the race start/finish was a pretty good deal... As opposed to, say, paying $25 to park a mile away from the race start *cough cough* Chicago Marathon *cough*. We moseyed on over to the start area with about 30 minutes til race start and performed that most important and beloved of all pre-race rituals:

When you gotta go, you gotta go... before the race starts!

Notice the sun is shining in that picture. The forecast actually called for clear weather until early afternoon. The forecast lied. Like a dog. As soon as we started lining up in the start corrals, it got cloudy and started drizzling.

Hey sunshine, where'd ya go?

It also got rather chilly, so I was pretty antsy to start running, just so I could get warm. My plan was to run this "race" at goal marathon pace, as a sort of pacing exercise.

Well folks, plans change.

I started off faster than I intended simply because I was trying to get warm. I tried to slow myself, but my legs just seemed to want to go. So I went with it. My first mile, at 8:50, was well below my existing half-marathon PR pace of 8:56. I didn't know if I could hang on to that pace, given that I hadn't tapered for this race and my legs were definitely not fresh, but I felt pretty good over the first few miles, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

Yes, I almost always smile when I run. I'm weird like that. And who's that right behind me? Oh, it's Kristi-who-almost-didn't-run!

Kristi stuck pretty close behind me for about 8 miles. Pretty impressive for someone who wasn't feeling too well the day before. I knew what her existing PR was and I thought she had a pretty good chance of beating it, even if she fell behind me in the latter miles.

Despite the drizzly rain that soaked us for almost the entire race, this event was simply wonderful. The course was scenic and beautiful, running along a lot of riverside bike paths and over bridges across the Fox River. I wouldn't call the course "flat", at least not compared with courses like the Indy Mini-Marathon, or Chicago Marathon, but it wasn't really "hilly" either. I thought there was just enough terrain variation to keep it interesting. The water stations were plentiful, and the volunteers... how do I even begin to comment on the volunteers? They were outstanding in every way. They cheered loudly and enthusiastically for every runner by name. I lost count of the number of times I heard "Way to go, Emily!" "Want some water, Emily?" "Emily, you're looking strong!" and other personal words of encouragement.

These personalized cheers came in really handy in the last 3 miles, when things started getting pretty intense for me. I had managed to hang on to my pace thus far and I knew I would PR if I just hung on a little longer. I was well past being able to do time math in my head, so I didn't even try to calculate what my finish time would be at my current pace. But in my mind, I was hoping to break 1:55 (my existing PR was 1:56:52). I thought I might be close to being able to do that. I pushed hard in the last 3 miles, willing my tired legs to keep going. When I rounded the final turn and saw the finish line, I kicked with all I had left. I had the entire finish to myself; nobody else was beside or ahead of me. I pumped my fist to get the crowd going. They cheered for me. I ran faster. They cheered harder. The finish line announcer called out on the loudspeaker "Give it up for Emily from Metamora!" and I ran faster still. It was easily the most enjoyable finish I've ever experienced; I was grinning from ear to ear.

Woo hoo!

I glanced down at my Garmin and was thrilled to see I had PR'd and made my 1:55 goal. A very kind volunteer placed the medal around my neck, and another kind volunteer gave me a much-needed mylar blanket, and yet another kind volunteer came over to me, personally congratulated me and asked me how I was feeling. I had never experienced such personal attention like that before. I was astounded.

And just a couple minutes after I finished, guess who came sailing through the finish line with a huge PR...

And to think, she almost didn't run!

Several minutes after that, Katie came down the final straightaway to finish her very first half-marathon. PR's all around for Team FAST!

We made our way through the finisher's area and my eyes grew as big as saucers when I saw this most glorious of post-race sights:

A veritable smorgasbord of post-race treats! Bananas, bagels, pretzels, chips, cookies... you name it - they had it.

We then found the results tent and proceeded to get printouts of our official finish times. I was very pleased to see my finish time of 1:54:54. It was a PR by about 2 minutes, which was really something considering I didn't taper at all for this event. And heck, I didn't even decide to race it until I started running it! But if not for Kristi's keen eyesight, I would've completely missed something very important.

"Wow, look at your Division place!" she gasped.

Um. Ohmigosh. I placed? In a half-marathon!? I PLACED???

I actually didn't believe it. I thought surely someone would finish behind me with a faster chip time and I would get edged out. It says right on the bottom of the printout that "Divisional placing is subject to change" and I was positive it would change.

Well, it didn't change. A few minutes later, I received the most beautiful trophy I've ever gotten. It's etched clear glass and is exceptionally difficult to photograph, but that didn't stop me from whipping it out for our group finisher's photo.

Drenched, freezing and happy! And ooooo, look at that shiny trophy!

If not for the fact that it is made of breakable glass, I would carry this trophy with me everywhere and show it to anyone who seems remotely interested. And also probably to anyone who doesn't give a crap. It was a completely unexpected, incredibly wonderful way to cap off a great race.

By this time, we were drenched with rain and freezing, so we headed back to the hotel to get dried off and warmed up. Then it was back to the race finish line to watch the marathon finishers come in. Fellow FASTie Cathy had been training hard for this marathon, and I had a feeling she was going to do very well.

Why didn't I think to bring one of these umbrella things while I was running?

As we were standing around at the finish line, I happened to pull my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had just gotten a voice mail from Cathy. I panicked! Had she gotten hurt? Was she not running well? It turned out she had just called to tell me she was at Mile 25. I glanced at the race clock. She was on target for a serious marathon PR. I relayed the good news to Kristi and Katie, and we staked out a spot at the finish where we would be able to see Cathy running in.

Then I got another phone call from Cathy. I panicked again! Turns out she had butt-dialed me. So all I could hear was the sound of her running and breathing. I took that as a good sign and hung up. (As a side note, I figure it's only a matter of time before I butt-dial someone while running. I apologize in advance.)

A few minutes later, there she was coming down the final stretch. She looked strong. And very emotional. She knew she was about to PR. I felt a little misty-eyed myself, I was just so proud of her, and of all my fellow FASTies. Cathy took 10 minutes off her previous PR!

The face of a serious marathoner.

How do you celebrate so many victories in one day? With delicious food, of course! After Cathy got dried off and changed, we found a neat restaurant called Prasino and proceeded to have a delicious post-race feast.

My pizza. MY pizza. Yes, I ate the whole thing. No, I don't feel guilty.

After that, it was time for us all to go our separate ways and head back home. As I tried to keep myself awake on the drive back, I thought about what a great day it had been for all of us, and how the rain didn't spoil any of our parades.

We all agreed we wanted to run this event again next year. It was so well-organized, so personal, so affordable and so scenic, that I can't imagine ever doing another huge marathon. So I guess it's a good thing my upcoming marathon is also a smaller event.

Oh crap.

I have an upcoming marathon!

It's only a week and a half away! I haven't picked out my race clothes, or packed my bag, or shined my running shoes, or anything! *begin panic attack*

Well, so much for being cured of taper madness...

Peace. Love. Train.

A Cure for Taper Madness, Part 1: The Pumpkin Classic

2011-09-22T17:23:00.000-05:00

Taper time is upon us, and we all know what that means. That's right: the madness is rearing its ugly head. As marathon day gets closer, and my runs get shorter, I find myself growing increasingly uneasy. "Uneasy" is probably too nice a word. "Irrational" and "obsessive" might be more accurate descriptive terms. But I may have discovered a possible cure for taper madness. Well, maybe it's not so much a cure as it is a diversion tactic. It simply involves running lots of races.

Those of you who read this blog regularly know that one of my personal mottos is "Why run just one race in a weekend when you can run two (or more)?" So this past weekend my plan was to run both the Morton Pumpkin Classic 10k on Saturday, and the Fox Valley Half-Marathon on Sunday, as well-organized training runs. No racing, no pressure.

I hadn't run the Pumpkin Classic since 2008, so I was fairly certain I could PR without running a hard effort (I have run only one other 10k race since 2008, and I didn't race that one either). My good friends Becky and Mike were also planning to run it for fun, so we decided to all run together. After picking up my race packet (which included a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt), and attaching my bib and timing chip, I lined up with my friends by the 9:00-12:00 / mile pace sign. I figured since the race was chip timed and we weren't planning to race, it wasn't important to be near the front. Too bad I didn't realize they didn't have a timing mat at the start of the race. Good thing I wasn't actually racing this race, or I would've been a bit upset about that.

I was shooting for a 9:00 - 9:30 pace for this "race", which was comfortable given the nice cool weather. The three of us stuck together for the first 5 miles, running and chatting and enjoying the course entertainment (there were several bands playing along the course). But in the last mile, Mike started picking up the pace, and I followed suit. Becky (wisely) didn't want to play our silly race game, so she let us go on ahead. After Mike kicked my butt in the 5k race last weekend though, I didn't want to get beat again. He sped up a little. I sped up a little. He sped up a bit more. I sped up a bit more. We came around the final turn and the finish line was in sight, so I sped up a lot. I thought I had lost him and I was going to cruise into the finish, but then he caught back up to me and we kept running faster and faster. By the time we got to the finish line, we were doing about a 5:30 pace and I was yelling "Dammit, Mike, slow down!!!"

He did not slow down.

Nor did I.

Mikey got chicked! (by choice)

Mike let me beat him. Barely. But he let it happen. I am pretty sure he could out-sprint me with both his hands tied behind his back, so yeah, he totally let me win. Even though we have the same time in the official results, my result is listed first, which means I WON. HA! *sticking tongue out at Mike* Not that I'm competitive or anything.

Oh, and incidentally, it did end up being a 10k PR for me, although I hesitate to really call it a PR, since I have run faster-paced half-marathons than this. But, in a strictly technical sense, it was a PR for the 10k race distance. It was also a PR for Mike since it was his first 10k ever. Go us!

Mike and I collected our medals ("oooo, shiny!"), met up with Mike's wife and her friend (who had both done the 2 mile walk event) and enjoyed the post-race "feast" of bananas, granola bars and orange slices. It wasn't really much of a feast if you ask me. Uhhh, hello? This is supposed to be the pumpkin festival! Where's my post-race pumpkin pie???

Loser on the left, winner on the right.
Of course, if Mike reads this, I don't think he'll ever let me win ever again...

All things considered, this was just an okay event. The course was fairly flat and fast, so for anyone wanting to really race a 10k, I think this is a good one. But the lack of chip timing at the race start is annoying. Also, the age groups in this race are 15 years, which meant that I was competeing against 20-year-olds. How completely and utterly ridiculous. In an event with this many runners, there should be standard 5-yeard age groupings. I was also irritated by the long line for post-race refreshments. One line for 1500 runners and walkers? Not cool. I did, however, enjoy the course entertainment, especially the band playing Beatles songs. And the finisher's medals are pretty nice too.

With a few small tweaks, this could be a really great event. I would sign up for next year's race right this minute if I was promised free pumpkin pie at the finish. True story.

Now if you want to hear about a truly first-class event, stay tuned for Part 2 of this weekend race report...

Peace. Love. Train.

Happy Pain

2011-09-13T18:00:00.000-05:00

It's no secret that runners are kind of a strange breed. Running is a sport that many people associate with pain, and while it doesn't always hurt, those of us who partake in running do derive some sick sense of satisfaction from an especially difficult or painful effort. It's a happy sort of pain, though - the pain of hard work and accomplishment.

Since last week was my peak marathon training week, it was time to bring on the happy pain. I wanted to sufficiently wear my legs out, without injuring them, before beginning my beloved/dreaded taper. So I logged 30 miles of easy- and moderate-paced running during the weekdays. And then I had a brilliantly crazy plan to put my pre-fatigued legs to the test over the weekend:

A 5k race on Saturday. Yes, a race race. An all out, balls to the wall, give it all I've got kind of race.
And a ridiculously hilly half-marathon on Sunday... as part of my 22-mile long run.

I know what you're thinking. Holy crap, woman, what are you smoking??? Okay, I didn't know you were thinking that. But if you must know, I am not smoking anything. I am in complete control of my mental faculties. True story.

So on Saturday morning, I headed down to Pekin to run the Marigold Festival 5k. It was like déjà vu all over again, because the race was on the same course and had the same race director as the Running With The Saints 5k I ran earlier this year, and my coworker/friend Mike was running it too. Even the trophies were the same.

Hey, did somebody say "trophies"???

That was all I needed to hear. I put on my game face. I was in it to win it. I didn't know if I would be able to set another PR, since I had just set one two weeks earlier, but I was going to run the best I could and try to score some hardware in the process.

After a short warm-up jog, we lined up for the start. I knew Mike was shooting for a PR, and I knew what his goal pace was. I didn't think I could run quite as fast as his goal, so I was fully prepared to watch him run out ahead of me and leave me in his dust. When the race started, and he didn't pass me, I grew concerned. I glanced down at my Garmin and saw that I had started off at about a 6:45 pace for the first 1/4 mile.

Oops.

Well that was way too fast. Far faster than my goal pace, and even Mike's goal pace. And Mike, who happened to be running just behind me, told me as much.

Running like I'm being chased...

(photo by Stephanie M)

For most of the race, I was aware of Mike running just behind me. This put a little pressure on me (okay, a lot of pressure). I didn't want him to rely on me for pacing and then end up falling short of his goal if I died off (as I tend to do in short races). I pushed on as best I could. As the frontrunners started coming back the opposite direction from the hairpin turn, I was vaguely aware that there were three females ahead of me, and none of them looked to be in my age group (although you can never really be sure with runners). If I could hang on, I stood a very good chance at earning some hardware.

With about 1/4 mile left to go and the finish line in sight, Mike dropped the hammer and finally passed me. I experienced feelings of intense pride (since I am his running coach and I knew he was about to PR), mixed with feelings of intense nausea (since I was accelerating for a finishing kick myself).

I watched Mike cross the finish in 23:04 - his best time by nearly 2 minutes. And I stumbled across the finish shortly thereafter, in 23:13 - a PR by 23 seconds. Considering my previous PR was set just two weeks earlier, this was pretty significant. I was ecstatic! I checked my splits and was pleased to see 7:16, 7:42, and 7:18. The middle mile was a killer (it was mostly uphill), but I somehow managed to speed back up for the final mile. And for the last 0.1 mile I managed to kick it up to a 6:50 pace. I was very pleased with how I ran.

But wait; there's more! I also won the Female 30-39 age group. And that meant a shiny trophy for me. Score!!!

First place, biznitches!!! Is it just me, or does the trophy figure look like she's bowling instead of running?

You would think that running a 5k PR would be enough happy pain for one weekend. And normally you would be right. But I needed to get in 20+ miles on Sunday, and I sure didn't want to run it alone. I knew a lot of fellow FASTies and Stashies were running the IVS Half Marathon in the beautiful Springdale Cemetery, and I thought it would be fun to incorporate this race into my long run. (I use the word "fun" loosely here.) My plan was to run 6-7 miles before the half-marathon, run the half, and then run 1-2 miles afterward, giving me a total of 20-22 miles.

I stumbled out of bed at 4am and had a light breakfast and some much-needed coffee. Then, at 5:20, despite the fact that I really wanted to crawl into bed and go back to sleep, I headed out the door and enjoyed one of the most peaceful runs I've had in a very long time. I donned my headlamp and reflective vest, and ran all over the still-sleeping town under a starry night sky, with the full moon slowly sinking toward the western horizon. I saw Orion to the south, and the big dipper to the north. All was quiet, except for chirping crickets, my own easy breathing, and my gentle footfalls on the road. The air was crisp and cool. I felt like I could run forever. I really hoped that feeling would continue, because I had a lot more miles to cover yet that morning.

After logging just over 7 miles on my own, I headed to the half-marathon start as the sun was starting to come up. I had never run the IVS Half-Marathon before, but I have run in Springdale Cemetery enough to know that there were going to be a lot of hills.

Hills? More happy pain, right? Bring it.

As runners lined up at the start, we had a brief moment of silence in remembrance of 9-11. Then it was time for the national anthem, but for whatever reason, the sound system wasn't cooperating and the music wouldn't play. In a beautiful display of unity and patriotism, all the runners, volunteers and spectators began singing The Star-Spangled Banner, sans accompaniment, perfectly on-key. It was better than any pre-recorded version of the song ever could have been.

Then we were off.

The half-marathon course consists of two identical 6.55-mile loops through the cemetery. The first loop is hilly but beautiful. The second loop is brutally mountainous and never-ending. Yes, the loops are identical on paper. But they are not the same when you're actually running them.

After the first loop, I still felt pretty good. This feeling would not last.

(Photo by Becky T)

My goal was to at least run even splits. I didn't really care much what my pace was since it was just part of a training run for me, as long as my pace didn't slip in the 2nd loop. This made the 2nd loop a right pain in the ass. And the quads. And the calves. And the hamstrings.

Pain.everywhere.

As I climbed all those hills a second time, I cursed myself for thinking this was a good idea. Who, in their right mind, runs an uber-hilly half-marathon as part of a 20+-mile training run?

Clearly, I'm not in my right mind.

It was nice the way the course wound through the cemetery in way that allowed you to pass by runners both ahead of and behind you, going the opposite direction. So every time I ran past a fellow FASTie or Stashie, I got a little mental boost. I tried not to think about the fact that when I was at Mile 9 of the race, I was actually at Mile 16 of my long run. I also tried not to think about the fact that the sun was getting hot. My calves screamed with every steep uphill climb, and my quads protested with every steep downhill descent. "Happy" pain, my foot!!! All I wanted was to be done with the hills. Fortunately, the final mile and a half are mostly a gentle downhill, and I was able to cruise into the finish with renewed vigor.

Did I say the course was hilly? I meant freakin' mountainous. Over 1,000 ft of climb (and descent). My quads still haven't forgiven me.

With a finish time of 2:05:51, my third fastest half-marathon ever, I was very pleased. I expected to be closer to 2:10 or 2:15, given the hilliness of the course. Even better, I exceeded my goal of running even splits, running the first half in 1:03:20 and the second half in 1:02:31. No wonder my legs were weeping!

I had run just over 20 miles so far. But I really wanted to get to 22. I reset my Garmin and headed back down the path toward the cemetery for another couple miles. It was very tough at that point. I didn't get anywhere near the steep hills, but my legs shook with fear. Or fatigue. Probably a bit of both. I ran past other runners who were on the home stretch, and I gave them all a "Good job; you're almost there!" Then I turned around and started heading back, and people started telling me "Good job; you're almost there!" They thought I was just finishing the half-marathon, but I was actually just finishing an epic (for me) day, weekend, and week of running.

A hilly half-marathon, a 5k PR, and a 56-mile training week - good job, indeed. I had accomplished everything I set out to accomplish in my peak week of marathon training, and much more. Yes, it was definitely all happy pain.

You all know what this means, though. Now that my peak training week is over, it's time for...

TAPER MADNESS *scream*

You have been warned.

Peace. Love. Train.

And THAT'S how we defend our title...

2011-08-29T17:34:00.005-05:00

Anyone who knows me personally knows I have a pretty serious fear of shorter-distance races right now. 5k, 1 mile, 4 mile, 3 mile... they all terrify me to my very core. Yes, I realize this is somewhat irrational for someone who routinely runs 8+ miles per day and 14+ mile long runs. But the amount of pain and suffering required for a short race is, in my opinion, much much greater than that required for, say, a half-marathon or marathon. I have realized, however, that in order to be a more well-rounded runner, I need to face my fears and, occasionally, run 'til I very nearly puke. I am much more agreeable to doing this if there is a potential for winning hardware.

And so this past Saturday, I headed north to the small town of Lacon to attempt to run really fast at the Marshall County Old Settlers' 5k race.

Those of you who have read my blog for a while may recall I secretly ran this race last year, and I managed to both PR and win 2nd place in my age group. Not only that, but fellow FASTie Kristi also secretly ran this race last year and placed 2nd in her age group as well. We both kinda-sorta really wanted to defend our 2nd place statuses in 2011. Neither of us were planning to try to PR, considering we had a 20-mile long run the very next day, but we figured we could at least place in our respective age groups without completely killing ourselves. So we both showed up in lovely Lacon, ready to take some names and kick some ass.

Wait. Did I say that out loud? Oopsie! What I meant to say was, we showed up in lovely Lacon to run a leisurely 5k and enjoy the post-race food and festivities.

Right.

Kristi and I did a short warm-up jog and then headed to the starting line. As we were walking, we were quietly assessing our competition. Yeah, Coach Brad always says to "run for fun and personal bests", yadda yadda yadda. Because, apparently, it's not all about the hardware. But what Coach Brad doesn't realize is that one of the funnest things about racing a 5k is winning hardware. Because, let's face it, the actual running part sure ain't any fun. No, the running part of a 5k really sucks. So I was fully intent on running "for fun" this day, where fun = winning shiny medals/trophies.

I find that in races like these, it's best to make the competition a little nervous before the race starts. You know, plant the seeds of doubt in their minds. Kristi and I stationed ourselves out in front of the starting line and did a variety of impressive-looking dynamic warm-up moves. Not only were these moves good for our legs, but I'm sure they made us look like Olympic track athletes getting ready to crouch in the starting blocks. If there had been starting blocks available, I totally would've used them. They could've given me a 5 or 6 tenths of a second advantage! Plus, I would've looked like a really serious runner. (As if the dynamic warm-up moves didn't make me look serious enough.) (And by serious, of course I mean ridiculous.)

We toed the line (sans starting blocks) with about 100 other runners and walkers, and when the flag dropped to signify the race start, I took off like one of those Diet Coke and Mentos bottle rocket things. That is to say: really fast... at first. This may not have been the best course of action, considering the first 3/4 mile is a steady uphill. Kristi was right beside me. Usually she's waaaay ahead of me, so I knew I was probably running a teeny little bit faster than I had intended.

First mile: 7:31

Uhhh yeah. That was a lot faster than I had intended. I had planned to run at about my PR pace of 7:45. Whoops. If I could hold onto that 7:31 pace, it would be a pretty impressive new PR. The problem was that I could not hold onto that pace on this hilly course. What followed that first uphill mile was a slow and steady death. 7:31. 7:36, 7:50... Need.life.support.now...

My legs just got heavier and heavier, my breathing became more labored, and with every step I ran, I wanted more and more to just stop. I did not plan to run this race all-out like that, but apparently I am unable to hold back when presented with a race situation where there is hardware at stake. In the back of my mind, I briefly worried about how my hard effort this day would affect my 20-mile long run the next day. The smart thing to do would've been to back off a bit and save something for the long run. My oxygen-starved brain was incapable of that sort of high-level logic, however, and I continued to push at maximum intensity. My thoughts became smaller and smaller until I was only able to process one- or two-word thoughts. My stream of consciousness sounded a lot like "Ouch... Hate.... Never again... Hurts... Why... Death soon... Must puke..."

As I rounded the final turn of the course, I relished the fact that it was literally all downhill from there. I flew through the final 0.1 miles at a blistering 6:43 pace and finished strong. Then I spent the next 30 seconds trying not to throw up (and fortunately for the finish line volunteers, I was successful).

I knew I had just PR'd because I had been vaguely aware that the race clock read 23:something when I finished, and I had never run sub-24:00 in a 5k before. A quick glance at my Garmin confirmed this - 23:39. I was pleased as punch! It made all the suffering instantly worthwhile. I was eager to see the official race results, and find out where I had placed.

While Kristi and I waited for the results to be posted, we enjoyed the post-race smorgasbord of goodies: bananas, grapes, brownies, cookies, rice krispie treats, Subway sandwiches, and ice cold bottled water, among other things. This small town race really knows how to make runners feel better after they have suffered for 20-some minutes.

After I had eaten far more calories worth of cookies and brownies than I could have possibly burned in 3.1 miles of running, the results were posted. I rushed over to the bulletin board to check them out. I let out a squeal of delight when I saw my official time of 23:36. A wonderful new PR, by almost 30 seconds! And then I nearly peed my pants with excitement when I saw that both Kristi and I had won our age groups.

First place, baby! BOOYAH!!!

I can't believe how much we rule.

And what of our 20-mile long run the next day?

No joke, it was the best 20 mile training run I have ever had. It certainly helped that the weather was perfect. But the route we ran, which took us literally from one side of Peoria to the other, and through various parts in between, was a difficult route with a lot of hills. Kristi and I didn't really expect to be running very fast even in good weather. So imagine our surprise when, after running the first 3 miles at about a 10:00 pace, we knocked out mile after mile at a sub-10:00 pace while feeling pretty darn good. We negative split the 20 miles, and our last mile was our strongest, at a 9:13 pace. Average pace over 20 miles? 9:45. It was the first time I had ever run any distance greater than 15 miles at a pace under 10:00. Not only that, but we felt fantastic for having just run such a speedy 20 miles. It was a far cry from just a year and a half ago when I was doing long runs at a 12:00+ pace and spending the rest of the day feeling beat up and exhausted.

So I officially proclaimed Kristi and myself to be a couple of bad-ass rockstar runners. We raced a 5k hard and won 1st place awards, and we ran a really strong 20-miler all in the same weekend. I am sure Nike will be calling us any day now to offer us a rockin' sponsorship deal.

Well, either them... or Walmart.

Peace. Love. Train.

The Madison Mini-Marathon: How Walmart Saved My Ass

2011-08-22T17:52:00.003-05:00

There is nothing quite like a fun and relaxing girls' weekend. Which is why I was really looking forward to my Madison Mini-Marathon weekend with fellow FASTies Kristi and Becky. We were going to run a half-marathon at a relaxed pace, and then spend the rest of the weekend hanging out, chillin', eating good food, and drinking tasty beverages. It was going to be a perfect weekend away.

Or so I thought.

I left for Madison early on Friday morning, intent on getting there in plenty of time to hit the race expo and get my and Kristi's race packets. And that's just what I did. I got into town around 4:00pm on Friday, checked into my hotel (conveniently located within walking distance to the expo and the race start/finish), and took a leisurely stroll across the University of Wisconsin campus to get my race packet at the student union.

The expo was moderately-sized and all the typical outfits were represented: shoe companies, chiropractors, local running shops, and several marathons looking for runners. Packet pick-up was well organized and staffed by dozens of volunteers. The race shirt was surprisingly nice, and even though it was unisex-sized, it fits me pretty well.

A cool tech shirt, a car magnet, and a personalized race bib (and yes, that's a QR code on the bib, so you can scan it to get your race results)

Fast forward to later that evening... Kristi had arrived and gotten her race packet from me, and we were both in our own hotel rooms, calmly getting ready for our half-marathon in the morning. At about 9:30pm, I was digging through my running gear bag so that I could lay out my running clothes and pin on my race bib. I was digging and digging and digging, when it occurred to me that there was a critical item that I swore I had packed (I had even crossed it off my packing list), but I couldn't seem to find.

My running shoes.

My stomach sunk like a rock and I felt physically sick. What followed was a colorful and animated monologue that sounded a lot like:

"HOLY SPIT SPIT SPIT DUCK SPIT, OH MY GOD, SPIT DUCK DUCK!!!"

Except instead of "spit" and "duck" I said different, but rhyming, words. It was so late in the evening, I knew there would be no running stores open, or any store that sold remotely decent shoes. The race expo was long since closed too. I knew I was screwed.

In a state of complete and utter panic, I texted Kristi, who was in the room directly below mine. The exchange went like this (remember "spit" is just a substitute word):

Me: SPIT SPIT SPIT! I forgot my running shoes! I'm freaking out! What do I do???
Kristi: Are you spitting me? I have an extra pair of shoes, but they are size 10. You might need to run to Walmart or something!
Me: Ummm... don't suppose you'd want to go with me?
Kristi: Of course I will. Meet you in the lobby!

And so at almost 10 o'clock on the night before a race, Kristi and I were driving around Madison, looking for the Walmart Supercenter. I was so relieved Kristi had agreed to go with me; I really needed the moral support during this shoe emergency. Plus, she knew where the Walmart was and I didn't. When we finally arrived, we quickly found the shoe department and immediately noticed the selection was... well... lacking. Not that we expected to find Nikes and Asics at Walmart, but the women's "athletic" shoes consisted of 4 different types of "toning" shoes (you know, those shoes with the really thick, ugly soles), and two types of grandma-looking walking shoes. Oh, and a pair of fake "Shox" type shoes.

I panicked again. I thought I was doomed to stand on the sidelines of the race wearing one of the two pairs of flip-flops I had brought (that's right folks, I didn't bring running shoes, but I brought two pairs of flip-flops). And then Kristi found them on the clearance rack...

They looked like fairly normal sneakers. No "shocks", no abnormally thick soles, and they didn't weigh 7 pounds like the grandma shoes. I felt cautiously optimistic. So I tried them on.

Maybe it was the fact that I was desperate, but they didn't feel half bad! I walked a few steps up and down the aisle, and jumped up and down a few times. They felt... better than expected. I had found my race shoes. I looked at the box.

Danskin NOW: Forward. Originally $22.87. Marked down to $17.00. Now on clearance for $15.00.

I was going to try to run a half-marathon in $15 "bubble sneakers"? They weren't even running shoes! I ran through all of the possible outcomes in my mind: the shoes could fall apart in the middle of the race, they could be so horribly-made that they cause some sort of weird foot injury, or they could turn my feet into two giant blisters. Given my high-mileage marathon training, I figured the risk of injury over 13 miles was fairly low. It was the other two scenarios I was most worried about. I was just glad I wasn't planning to race this half-marathon. There was no pressure to achieve a certain pace or finish time; I was just going to enjoy a fun run with my girlfriends.

As I stood in the aisle of Walmart pondering my fate, Kristi pulled out her iPhone and started snapping pictures so she could post them on Facebook. So that was why she had wanted to go to Walmart with me: to point and laugh and gather photographic evidence!

Save Money. Live Better. $15 Danskin "bubble sneakers" to the rescue!

I didn't get a lot of sleep the night before the race, thanks to the late-night Walmart run, and the subsequent Facebooking (I had to respond to the hoards of "OMG, how could you forget your shoes???" comments I was getting). So when the alarm went off at 5:15 the next morning, I made a beeline to the coffeemaker, feeling bleary-eyed and desperate for caffeine.

The race was set to start at 7:00am. This was fine by me; I like an early race. The earlier a race starts, the earlier it's finished, and the earlier I can enjoy the post-race festivities!

Mother Nature had other plans though.

I put on my running gear, including my super-awesome $15 Walmart shoes and made my way to the hotel lobby to meet up with Kristi and Becky. As we were walking to the race start, we noticed the ominous-looking clouds in the sky and some distant lightning. We didn't think much of it though. If you recall my Flying Pig experiences, both times I ran those events, I walked to the starting line in a severe thunderstorm and those races started right on time.

The race director, however, did not like the dark clouds and distant lightning. And so as we were getting situated in our starting corral, the announcement was made that we were all to take shelter immediately and wait for the impending storm to pass.

Ready to run at 7:00am... but it was not to be.

In all the bazillions of races I've run, this was the first time I had ever had a race delayed. I didn't particularly mind. If there was severe weather coming, I would rather not run in it. I can handle just rain, but I prefer not to have to dodge lightning.

So the three of us sought shelter under a building overhang, between bicycles parked on a bike rack. We waited. And waited. And ran across the street to Einstein Bro's Bagels to pee. And ran back under the overhang to wait some more. And waited. And waited. And commented on how hungry we were getting. And ran to Walgreens to buy an energy bar. And ran back under the overhang. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, at about 8:15, over an hour after the scheduled race start, an official-looking man came by and said that he would know in about 10 minutes whether or not the race would be canceled. We all looked at each other in disbelief. Cancel the race? They couldn't possibly! Not after driving 3.5 hours to get there. And certainly not after making a late-night Walmart run to buy crappy "athletic" shoes to run in! I was ready to run in my cheap shoes, dammit, and the weather was not going to stop me!!!

Fortunately, they decided to go ahead with the race, an hour and a half late. So at 8:30am, we all lined up in our corrals, in the very cold rain, and anxiously awaited the starting gun. When it finally went off, we were so relieved because it meant we might finally warm up.

Where are my tiny windshield wipers???

The first few miles were very, very wet. The rain poured and the wind blew, and I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had felt so cold during a run. I was trying not to complain, though, because it was really a nice change of pace from the 95º weather we've been running in lately. Still, it was hard not to whimper a little bit when the wind came whipping through and made us all kinds of goose-bumpy. I was afraid my cheap shoes would turn into a soggy, squishy, blister-making mess, but they actually stayed relatively dry. I credit my moisture-wicking socks (which I think cost more than the shoes). The rain was short-lived, and by mile 5 we were squinting from the glare of the sunshine bouncing off the wet pavement.

Kristi had requested that I provide a "shoe update" every mile. And so shortly after most mile markers, I would comment: "Well, they haven't fallen apart yet" or "They're actually not too bad". As we got toward the later miles of the comments were more like "It feels like I have plywood strapped to the soles of my feet!" and "I am never wearing these shoes again!".

The race course itself was wonderful. It was scenic, full of variety, and well-organized with plenty of aid stations and lots of enthusiastic volunteers. We ran through neighborhoods, along bike paths, through parks, near the lake, and through the university. There were a few hills, but nothing major (just enough to keep it interesting). We ran at a relaxed pace, so we were able to truly enjoy the course and our conversation.

When we crossed the finish line, the three of us had our linked hands raised high. The finish line announcer yelled out "And here come the three amigos!" We hugged each other, feeling victorious, and collected our shiny medals. Oh, but these weren't just any shiny medals. No, these were multi-functional medals!

It's a shiny medal. It's a bottle opener. It's BOTH!

Not only did we get wicked-cool bottle opener medals, we also got quite the post-race buffet, including bananas, granola bars, rice krispie treats, Cheetos and Doritos, and real Wisconsin chocolate milk. It may have been the best chocolate milk I had ever had. And of course we can't forget the free post-race beer! The post-race party on the union terrace was just splendid, with its beautiful views of the lake, abundant sunshine, and live entertainment. We hung out for a while and enjoyed our snacks and beverages.

Becky and Kristi enjoying free frosty beverages on the union terrace, overlooking Lake Mendota

My feet were a little sore and tired from my cheap, stiff-soled shoes, which didn't have very good arch support, but all things considered, I felt pretty darn good. I never would've dreamed I could make it through a half-marathon in $15 Walmart shoes. I credit my rigorous marathon training; if I hadn't been running such a high weekly mileage, I think this race would've done me in. But given my current training regimen, 13 miles is a relatively short long run, so I can wear less-than-ideal shoes and live to tell the tale. I don't think I would've been able to run, say, 20 miles in these shoes, though. So to anyone who might be thinking "Hey, she should run a full marathon in those shoes!" *ahem, Coach Brad* I say "Fuggedaboutit!"

I hope someone from Walmart's executive management reads this (although I know the chances of that are slim to none), because I want them to know that Walmart was the reason I was able to run the Madison Mini-Marathon. I expected disaster from those $15 shoes, but what I got was a mostly pleasant surprise. I don't really want to run in those shoes again, but it's nice to know there are feasible options for those of us who are... um... brilliant enough to leave their regular running shoes at home during a big race getaway weekend. And let's face it, when it's late at night and you have an "OMG I forgot something!!!" emergency, where do you go? Walmart. You may not be happy about it, but in many cases, it's the only option. So I'd like to suggest a new slogan for Walmart.

Walmart: Saving You Money While Saving Your Ass

Peace. Love. Train.

Hills and Thrills at the Bix 7

2011-07-31T18:09:00.001-05:00

There's something about this wonderful summer weather we've been having (brutally sunny, average temperature 267º, average humidity 650%) that makes me crave a good uber-hilly race. After all, nothing makes you feel like a rockstar runner like toughing it out through the Trifecta of Running Pain: heat, humidity and hills.

So when fellow FASTie, Kristi, tried to talk me into running the famous Bix 7 with her, it didn't really take a lot of convincing. This 7-mile race is famous not for being fast and flat, but for being hot and hilly... and also tons of fun. It's hard to imagine how a race held at the hottest time of the year on a challenging course could be much fun, but the key to having fun at an event like this is to not race it. And that was our plan.

I arrived in lovely downtown Davenport, Iowa on Friday evening and even though I had a hard time finding a place to park (and finally ended up paying $5 for a garage), getting in and out of the packet pickup was a breeze. The expo was so-so; about what one would expect for an event this size. I browsed around briefly, but nothing really caught my interest. The race swag was also unexceptional, but considering this race only cost $30 or $35 to enter (I can't remember how much, exactly), it's no more or no less than one would expect: a cotton t-shirt and a color poster. The real "swag" of this race is the post-race party, as you will see shortly.

This race attracts a very prestigious elite field, thanks to the thousands of dollars in prize money offered to top finishers. Apparently Joan Benoit Samuelson and a whole bunch of Kenyans were among the elite runners this year. And I totally ran with them. True story.

Okay, when I say I "ran with them" I actually mean I saw them fly past me as they were heading back toward the finish line and I was still shuffling along at Mile 2. But I digress...

This is a pretty large event, especially considering it's in, well, Iowa. I mean, what else is in Iowa besides... corn? So for a race in Davenport to draw a field of over 18,000 runners and walkers, including some very big-name elites, it's really quite impressive. And that the race is so well-organized to handle such a large field is even more impressive. Kudos to the race director!

Kristi and I arrived at the race start early and got positioned in our assigned starting corral. The sun was shining, the air was warm and sticky, and we could see Brady Street hill (with it's 7% grade) looming ahead of us. Oh, we were definitely in for a fun time.

We ain't scared of no hills!

Before we knew it, the race was underway and we were making our way toward the starting line. We were probably positioned in the middle of the field, and it only took two minutes to cross the starting line. Not bad for a race this large.

The first 1/3 mile climbs over 100 vertical feet, and while this sounds like a pretty steep climb, it really wasn't that bad. Of course, I say this as a person who was not racing. Kristi and I ran the hill at a leisurely 11:00 pace; we weren't in any hurry. There were a lot of people in this race. A LOT. Even if we had wanted to run faster up the hill, I don't think we could have, just because it would've taken far too much effort to weave around the slower people.

When we crested that first big hill, we picked up the pace a bit, but we knew the hill climbing was far from over. Indeed, I believe the worst hill in this course is actually the last one, at Mile 5-6. It's not the steepest, but it comes at a time when you're already pretty tired from climbing all the other hills. And it's looooooong.

So just how hilly is this course? Well, for the sake of comparison, I pulled up my Garmin data from the Steamboat 15k, "Illinois' Toughest 15k". That course (which is over 2 miles longer than the Bix) has a total climb of 310 feet. The Bix has a total climb of 394 feet. So the Bix has nearly 85 more vertical feet of climb, but over a shorter distance... which, in theory, makes it significantly tougher.

But not if you're just running it for fun!

Kristi and I ran at a moderate pace, enjoying the multitudes of spectators and entertainment acts along the way. There was nonstop live music the whole seven miles, and the cheering spectators along the sidelines were all drinking either coffee or beer... or both. I was very impressed with the people of Davenport for all their enthusiasm for the race. There wasn't a single spot along the course that didn't have spectators lined up five deep.

Water stations were plentiful and well-organized. I think I actually finished the race better hydrated than when I started it. We stopped at every station, not only to get water to drink, but also to get water to pour on ourselves. We were ever-so-thankful for those spectators who had set up hoses to spray water on the runners, and for the patches of shade provided by trees along the course.

We were also extremely thankful when we reached Mile 6 and it was all downhill to the finish. And what a downhill it was! That 7% grade we climbed at the beginning of the race? Well, now we were going to run down it. And boy did we fly! We ran the last mile at a fairly comfortable effort, but it ended up being an 8:21 pace.

As we rounded the final turn, we could see the finish line up ahead. Kristi began to surge. I followed suit. She wasn't trying to break away from me; she was just trying to push me a little bit. She knew I could keep up. And I did. We sprinted and crossed the finish together. (And in case anyone is curious, our finish time was 1:08:41. Not too bad for a fun run!)

Then we began our hunt for the food and beer. And that's when things got really interesting.

If you like junk food, the Bix is the race for you. Bananas, bagels and Gatorade? That stuff is for wussies! You won't find any of those things at the Bix. What you will find are popsicles, Hostess cupcakes and Twinkies, potato chips, chocolate milk, cereal bars and beer. And it's an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. I did not eat all of those things, but I enjoyed a Hostess cupcake and an orange popsicle (very refreshing on a hot day!). And a couple of beers.

Now, when they say it's all-you-can-eat, they mean it's all you can eat within the boundaries of the post-race party. You're not supposed to bring a shopping cart and fill up the trunk of your car with food to take home. That's just plain rude. And they apparently do crack down on food-snatchers, according to the website. But that didn't stop this guy from oh-so-subtly stuffing his shorts pockets with Twinkies and cereal bars.

Are those Twinkies in your pockets, or are you just happy to see us?

But what makes the post-race party so interesting isn't the food and beverage. It's the people. There are some fascinating people at this event (besides Mr ShortsStuffer above). Allow me to share a few of them with you.

The funniest thing isn't this guy's Spongebob hat or his bitchin' beard, but the fact that he gave me his email address because he wanted me to send him this picture. HahahaNO!

It seems I have my head in a strange (very strange) man's armpit. We all smelled bad, though, so it didn't matter. I vote for this guy for best outfit, hands down.

Those two guys were just the tip of the iceberg. There were hundreds of runners in silly outfits and costumes, including a whole team of Marilyn Monroes, and a group of people dressed as Angry Birds characters. There was even a costume contest, with prizes and everything! I seriously regretted not having worn my tutu. This was definitely a tutu-worthy event.

So after some discussion, Kristi and I have decided that next year we need to get a big group together to run this race, come up with an awesome team costume idea, and rule the costume contest. There are prizes at stake, people! I don't actually know what the prizes are, but I'm sure they are wicked cool. Like a million bucks, or a new car, or a coffee mug or something like that.

So who's in??? You could win a million dollars! (But don't count on it.)

Peace. Love. Train.

Running oot and aboot in Canada, eh?

2011-07-28T15:55:00.007-05:00

In celebration of spending the last four days in Canada, I'd like to invite everyone to join me in a rousing chorus of the Canadian national anthem. It's sung to the tune of "O Christmas Tree" and goes like this:

O Canada, O Canada
How lovely are thy maple leaves!
O Canada, O Canada
How lovely are thy maple leaves!
With moose, poutine and hockey too,
Beer for me, back bacon for you,
O Canada, O Canada
How lovely are thy maple leaves!
*jazz hands*

Now some of you (especially those of you who are actually Canadian) may argue that that is not the Canadian national anthem. To that I say "Well, not yet, it's not! Geesh!" I am petitioning the Canadian government to have the anthem changed because mine is (1) easier to remember and (2) far more descriptive than the current anthem, which does not once mention maple leaves, moose, poutine, hockey, beer or bacon. Plus, I'm pretty sure it would be the only national anthem in the world that incorporates a dance move.

Now that I've started this blog post in the proper way (with the singing of a national anthem), allow me to explain what the heck I was doing in Canada. I was visiting my BFF, Shelley. You all may recall that I ran the Flying Pig races with her earlier this year, and last year as well. And we also ran the Niagara Falls International Marathon Relay last fall. It seems every time we get together, it's to run some sort of organized distance event. And while this is fun, and a great way to get motivated to train for an event, it's also kind of stressful because the entire get-together revolves around race preparation. So we decided it was high time to get together, not to run a race, but to simply hang out and do whatever and not have to worry about the pressure of a looming event.

This did not stop us, however, from running. A lot. You see, we're both in the midst of marathon training. I arrived on Saturday afternoon and we immediately began carb-loading for our Sunday morning long run.

Beer is a carb, right?

Carb-loading, Canadian-style.

I mean, come on, you can't go to Canada and not have Canadian beer (Steam Whistle, in this case). I'm pretty sure it's a law there. Anyway, I digress...

Shelley had carefully planned a route for us to run that would take us all over the city of Hamilton. It looked great on the map. If only had known she was secretly plotting my demise, one painfully steep step at a time...

A lovely tour of Hamilton on foot, eh? Just you wait...

So Sunday morning arrived and I got up early to eat some breakfast. Shortly thereafter, we headed out the door into a veritable steam bath. I had checked the weather just before we left and the humidity was 100%. We may as well have been underwater. We struggled to catch our breath for the first several miles, thankful that the skies were cloudy. The route started out as any other run, mostly flat with a few gentle slopes. Then we made our way to the Chedoke Radial Trail, which was a gradual net downhill for a couple of miles. Then we turned left and headed through the city toward the bay (home of the famous Around The Bay Road Race), which was also a gradual downhill.

It was a scenic run, with beautiful views from the trail, and charming old homes along the city streets, and paved trails right along the bay. It was early enough in the morning that there were very few other people or cars out, so the city was peaceful. As we ran, the humidity began to slowly dissipate, and the clouds stayed overhead to provide us much-needed shelter from the sun. We chatted about this and that and were having a grand old time.

A few miles into the run, on the Chedoke Trail, still looking happy. This condition wouldn't last long...

But then we began making our way back through the city from the bay and I quickly came to the realization that Shelley had just been lulling me into a false sense of security with all those gentle downhills and scenic vistas.

Let us all remember the first rule of running a loop route: S/he who runs downhill must eventually run back uphill.

And that's when the fun really started. At first, it was just a gentle climb. No big deal. But then we rounded a corner near the Chedoke golf course, and it became immediately obvious that I was going to die. The road rose up sharply ahead of us, and I could feel my breath becoming short. I struggled to reach the visible top of this mountain. I wished I had a rope so I could just pull myself up.

Then the path leveled off. Whew!

But my relief was short-lived because then we reached the bottom of the Dundurn Stairs: a nearly-vertical ascent of 350 steps up the Niagara escarpment. It wasn't even possible to see the top of the stairs from the bottom; the stairs appeared to vanish into the clouds. It was 13 miles into our run, and I was already feeling pretty beat up from the humidity and the climbing we had already done.

If you listen very carefully, you can hear the sound of my legs crying.

After guzzling approximately 3.4 gallons of water from the fountain at the bottom of the stairs, we began our ascent. At first, it wasn't so bad. Every dozen or so steps, there was a small landing that gave us a few seconds to catch our breath.

But as we continued to climb higher and higher, getting closer to outer space, the air thinned and breathing became more difficult. I could have sworn we had climbed 15,000 feet. When we finally reached the top of the stairs, I died.

But I got better!

And a mile and a half later, we were back at Shelley's house, feeling exhausted but accomplished.

Total climb: 837 feet. Ouch. Ow ow ow. Ouch!

After taking much-needed showers, we refueled with Kraft Dinner and maple syrup, and enjoyed a nice game of hockey while listening to The Barenaked Ladies. I also worked on my mastery of the Canadian language. It's really not that hard and I would be glad to teach you all how to speak Canadian. Repeat after me, kids: I'm going to leave the hoose to go oot and aboot, eh? That translates roughly to "I am going out now, ok?"

Now, you would think that after such a crazy hilly run and so many leg-torturing stairs to climb, that we would choose flatter routes for the rest of our runs together. Well, you would be wrong. Shelley, that evil Canadian wench, made me run the stairs again on Monday and Tuesday too. The runs were much shorter (5 and 7 miles, versus Sunday's nearly-15 miles), but the stairs still hurt and I swear she cackled gleefully the whole time. It is for this reason that I believe Canadians aren't nearly as friendly as they would have us believe. They're all like "Come to our great country and eat some poutine and enjoy some socialized medicine!" and then once they get you there, they torture you with hills and stairs and death.

I'm planning to return to Canada in October for the Niagara Falls International Marathon, but now that my eyes have been opened to the true motives of the Canadian people, I will be much more cautious. I am going to keep working on my Canadian accent, so I can blend in better. And I will wear my bright red maple leaf shirt, because that surely doesn't say "I'm a tourist!". If they think I'm just another Canadian, maybe they won't torture me. Maybe...

Although I might be willing to endure a little torture (in the amount of 26.2 miles) in exchange for a shiny medal, eh?

Peace. Love. Train.

The Longest 6.5 Minutes Of My Life

2011-07-09T18:05:00.008-05:00

It's that time of the year again: the time when we all gather around Running Central on a steamy Friday night and instead of joining hands and singing Kumbaya, we run 'til we nearly puke and then drink a lot of beer. I am, of course, talking about the Main Street Mile: a screaming-fast downhill one-mile race in downtown Peoria that ends with the best post-race party in town. It sounds great in theory, but this race terrifies me to my very core.

I know what you're all thinking. A one mile race? You're a marathoner, Emily.... How hard could it be for you to run one little mile?

Ha. Hahahahahahaha!

See, that's the problem. I'm a marathoner. I excel at running LSD (long slow distance). Well, maybe "excel" isn't the right word, but it's my preferred modus operandi for running. Given the choice between a 5k and a half-marathon, I will pick the half-marathon every time. To put it bluntly, running fast sucks.

So what compelled me to register for the Main Street Mile again? Well, the price was right. That is to say, it was free. Us lucky (and I use the term "lucky" pretty loosely here) FASTies got a free entry into the race just for signing up for the Summer/Fall season of FAST.

Also, I was told there would be free beer at the finish line.

So on that hot and sunny July evening, I toed the line with my fellow FASTies and ran like hell in a very short but very painful attempt to reach the beer as quickly as possible.

Some of you may remember that I ran this same race last year, and surprised myself with a finish time of 7:10 (under the pseudonym of "Unknown Runner"). My goal this year was to run under 7:00 (under my actual name). All I wanted was to have a 6 in front of my mile time, even if it was 6:59.

This year, the race was divided up until three heats (versus last year's two heats). I was told that the first heat was for anyone planning to run slower than 8:30, the second heat was for paces from 6:00 to 8:30, and the final heat was for anyone faster than 6:00. That meant I belonged firmly in the second heat. And that meant I had plenty of time to stand around and get nauseatingly nervous while the first heat ran. It seemed to take forever for the second heat to begin.

Off goes the 2nd heat! I'm buried in the middle of that pack.

The race started and I ran as fast as I could. And then I quickly realized that I wasn't going to get very far at that pace, so I slowed down a little bit. I felt like a flailing idiot. I am not used to running that fast, and it feels very strange to do so. I probably looked like a flailing idiot too. Fortunately, there is no photographic evidence of this (at least not that I'm aware of). So when you all think of me running this race, picture me moving quickly and gracefully like a gazelle.

For reasons I cannot quite explain, although I suspect it has something to do with the space-time continuum and the general theory of relativity, a 10-minute mile feels much shorter than a 7-minute mile. I felt like I was running and running but time had stopped and I wasn't getting any closer to the finish line. The air was unusually dry for this time of year, and my throat was getting sore from breathing so hard. I just wanted to be finished.

You wouldn't think running downhill would be so difficult!

Finally, the finish line was in sight and it took every ounce of strength I had left to keep running toward it. After I crossed the finish, it took every ounce of strength I had to not throw up. Once I got over my nausea, I finally looked at my Garmin and was shocked and very pleased to see 6:35. Not only was that sub-7:00, it was way sub-7:00. It was a PR by almost 40 seconds!

According to the official results, my time was 6:33.45. Incredibly, I also somehow managed to place 2nd (out of 45!) in my age group. Not only that, but many of my fellow FASTies had amazing PR's, and there were many who placed in the top three of their age groups. And to top it all off, Team FAST was second place in both the men's and women's team competitions, getting beaten only by Team RC (who are pretty much impossible to beat). There were many FAST victories to celebrate! We headed over to the post-race party at Sully's where the music was thumpin' (thanks to local band O-Face) and the beer was flowin'. It was going to be a very good time.

Cheers!

It didn't take long before we were all dancing and singing along with the music. I'm actually fairly certain I got even more of a workout from the dancing than I did from the race.

Gettin' funky, FASTie style!

The highlight of the evening was when our very own Coach Brad was invited on stage to sing Roadhouse Blues. And for someone who claims to be completely tone deaf, he wasn't half bad. But maybe that's because we had all had a couple beers by that point, and anyone would've sounded good (kidding, Brad!).

Belting out the tunes!

I could tell a lot of fun stories about the post-race party, but I think most of them are "you had to be there" kinds of stories. So if you want to know how much fun the Main Street Mile post-race party is, you'll just have to come and find out for yourself next year. But no partying if you don't run til you nearly puke first!

Peace. Love. Train.

(all photos courtesy of Steven Blanchard)

Will suffer for hardware

2011-06-26T06:35:00.000-05:00

Short races are very, very painful.

5k's, 3 Milers, 4 Milers, 1 Milers - they all hurt like hell. The process of quickly achieving an anaerobic state and then trying to hold onto it for several minutes makes me question my sanity every time I do it. For a 5k or 3 mile race, the thought process generally goes something like this:

Mile 1: Wheeeeee! This is fun! I feel like I'm flying!
Mile 2: OMG, I'm not even halfway through this race and I am fighting for air! Why am I doing this??? And where has all the oxygen gone???
Mile 3: I really want to puke!

So why do I continue to put myself through the torture of short races? Well, aside from the fact that they help make me a faster runner, I also have a serious trophy/medal hoarding problem. I haven't hoarded very many, mind you. But they're so shiny and pretty, I just want them all. And so I tend to carefully select races where I actually stand a chance of getting an age group award. And when I see a display like this...

Look at all the shiny trophies!!!! OOoooOOOoooo...

...it makes me run that much harder. I am willing to suffer for hardware.

In yesterday's Lincoln-Douglas 3 Mile Race, it was even more imperative that I win a trophy because last year I actually won my age group in this very race. I needed to defend my title!

I thought about all the mistakes I made in last year's race, the biggest one being the fact that I started out way too fast. This is a common problem for me in short races. I am pretty good at pacing over long distances, but when it comes to short distances, I shoot out of the gates at lightning speed... and then I die.

So after a quick 1.5-mile warm-up jog, I lined up at the start line, fully intent on reigning in my pace for the first mile.

Well, at least my intentions were good...

The race started and off I went at what felt like a pretty slow pace. I was worried that I was actually running too slow. I rarely look at my Garmin during races (which is a habit I should probably break if I want to get better at pacing) so I really didn't know what my pace actually was. I just felt slow.

But then I passed the 1 mile mark and the nice man with the stopwatch called out "7:10!"

Wait... What??? 7:10 is my Main Street Mile time! I had just ran my 1 mile PR in the first mile of a 3 mile race. This was not good. Not good at all.

After that, it was a slow and painful death all the way to the finish line. It didn't help that the race was downhill for the first half and uphill for the 2nd half. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I was actually passing other runners in the last two miles. I wanted so badly to stop and lie down in a cornfield, but as I slowly picked off other runners, I felt small bursts of energy that drove me home. And in the last tenth of a mile, I saw an angel from heaven: Kris Stash (yes, one of the Stashes for whom the Stashies are named), was cheering for me. I gave it everything I had (which wasn't much at that point) and finished strong. And without puking!

According to my not-entirely-accurate Garmin, my 2nd mile was a 7:36 pace, and my 3rd mile was 7:56. Talk about losing steam! It was pretty much a repeat of last year's race (where my splits were 7:31, 8:08 and 8:36), just at a faster pace. Apparently I'm a slow learner. But hey, at least I'm a faster runner!

And the good news is that I still managed a very nice PR. Last year, I finished in 24:43 (8:14 pace), which was somehow good enough to earn me a 1st place age group trophy. This year, I finished in 23:06 (7:42 pace). I was very happy with this time... but would it be good enough to defend my 1st place title in the 30-34 age group?

As it turns out... no.

The competition in this year's race was pretty stiff across the board. There were more runners in general, and a lot of them were fast.

For the first time ever, this race was chip-timed, which meant the results were posted very quickly. So even before the awards ceremony, I knew I had placed 2nd in my age group. Disappointing? A teeny bit.

But you know what? 2nd place gets a trophy too!

I was so far behind the 1st place woman in my age group (who ran at a 7:05 pace), that I didn't even stand a chance of winning 1st. Like I said, the competition this year was pretty stiff. So I was pretty darn happy to win a 2nd place trophy.

And what's more, my good friend and fellow FASTie/Stashie, Louisa, won 1st in her age group!

Louisa and I showing off our new hardware

So maybe I didn't run the best race in terms of even pacing, and I didn't exactly defend my title... but all things considered, this was a successful race. I ran a new PR, I still won a trophy, and most importantly, I got to celebrate victories with my runner friends. Louisa won her age group, Jim ran his best race so far this year after coming back from injury, Caleb was 3rd place overall, and Bill ran strong in the 8 Mile race. It was a very good day.

Winning a shiny trophy was just icing on the proverbial cake.

Mmmm... cake...

Peace. Love. Train.

Illinois' Toughest 15k? Bring it!

2011-06-20T16:05:00.008-05:00

Since I began this blog nearly a year and a half ago, I have written many times about the wonder and torture of the Hill of Death. I have run many a training run up and down its steep and unforgiving slopes, and even though it hurts like hell every time, I'm pretty sure it has made me a stronger runner. For this reason, deep down, I love the Hill of Death. However, I have never said to myself "Self, wouldn't it be fun to run a race that includes the Hill of Death... twice???"

Until now.

After five years in a row of running the Steamboat Classic 4 mile race ("The World's Fastest 4 Mile Race"), I decided it was time to take on a new challenge. And what better way to take on a new challenge than by running "Illinois' Toughest 15k" which takes runners up the Hill of Death not once, but twice?

This was a welcome change for several reasons. First, I really prefer longer distance races to shorter ones. Second, I have never raced the 15k distance before so it would be an instant PR. And third, and most importantly, finishers of the 15k event receive a shiny medal.

I'm a sucker for a shiny medal... even if it means running the Hill of Death twice.

I have run the race course several times before as a training run with my beloved Stashies and I felt pretty comfortable with it. As a training run, it actually isn't too difficult. Yes, the hills are tough, but for every uphill there is a downhill. I have found that I rather enjoy the variety of this course, with its fast flats and undulating hills, and bustling city segments and tranquil park segments. I knew my opinion would probably change when I attempted to race it though.

Based on my training runs, I thought a reasonable goal for this hot, humid and hilly race would be under 1:30. (Steamboat is always hot and humid; I'm pretty sure it's in the official race rules that the weather be as miserably summery as possible.) Yes, that's even slower than my half-marathon pace, but I had to take course and weather conditions into account in my goal-setting.

The elevation profile for the Steamboat 15k. Ouch.

And so when race morning finally arrived, I set my sights on 1:30. The weather was hot and humid, as expected, but thankfully, it was cloudy. I felt good. My coaches had me do a short taper in the week leading up to Steamboat, and although I suffered a bit of taper madness from running so few miles, my legs felt fresh for race day.

Runners lined up at the start and ready to run!

The gun went off (I didn't actually hear a gun, but everyone had started running, so I just assumed...) and away I went. The first two miles are flat, so I used this to my advantage to bank some time. I ran about a 9:00 pace for those two miles, which was faster than goal pace, but not so fast that I wouldn't have any energy left to tackle the hilly miles (miles 3 - 7). When I finally reached the Hill of Death (the first of several hills), I felt great. I climbed the hill at a relaxed pace, rather than trying to attack it, so that I would be able to take back a fast pace as soon as I reached the top. This was my strategy for all of the hills and it worked great.

As I made my way around the first loop of Glen Oak Park I was joined by fellow FASTie, Anna. We had a nice chat about marathons and beer and race hydration strategies. Anna told me about her idea for margaritas made with Gatorade instead of margarita mix. They would be called Gatoritas. This is beyond brilliant, and I hope the idea catches on with marathon race directors. At Mile 22 of a marathon, nothing would be more refreshing!

When I came around for my second loop through Glen Oak park, I picked up my pace a little bit, because I knew I was almost done with the hills. Before I knew it, I was running down the last downhill, out of Glen Oak Park, and into the home stretch. The last two miles of the race are pretty much flat, with a nice downhill segment in the last 1/4 mile. It was time to kick it up a notch.

I really had no idea what my pace had been during the race. As I typically do during races, I ran entirely by feel, and I rarely looked at my Garmin. Based on the race clock at the 10k mark, I knew I was on track for sub-1:30, but I really didn't know by how much. (My computational skills during races leave a lot to be desired.)

So imagine my surprise as I surged down the final downhill, around the corner, and toward the finish line, when I saw the race clock at exactly 1:25:00. Suddenly, a man came flying past me in his sprint to the finish line. Not wanting to be outdone, I kicked with all I had and passed him with 20 feet to spare, crossing the finish as the clock struck 1:25:08. Knowing it had taken me at least 30 seconds to cross the starting line of the race after the gun was fired, I knew my chip time should be well under 1:25. I was ecstatic!

After collecting my shiny medal and high-fiving my fellow FASTies and Stashies who had already finished, I proceeded to the post-race party where I enjoyed the optimal recovery fuels of bagels, orange slices, and beer with my friends. Many of us celebrated PR's, and several even won awards.

Me and fellow FASTie, Cathy, both celebrating PR's!

When chip times were finally posted (36 hours after the race - talk about slow!), I was very pleased to see my time was 1:24:34 (9:04 pace). I do believe I properly earned this shiny medal:

I love that it says right on the ribbon "Illinois' Toughest 15k" - damn right!

Coach Brad has always said that there's really only one race at Steamboat: the 15k. After having raced both the 4 mile and the 15k, I can now understand his logic. The 15k is far more fun (even with the Hill of Death), the pace is more comfortable, the course is more shaded and less crowded, and there's a shiny medal at the finish. It may be Steamboat's best kept secret. So many more runners opt to do the 4 mile because it promises to be "flat and fast". But I think if they gave the 15k a chance, they'd realize that flat and fast isn't always better.

I will be back again next year for the 15k. And now I have a time to beat. Look out!

Peace. Love. Train.

Hey, can someone please shut down this blast furnace?

2011-06-11T06:05:00.001-05:00

Gather round, kids; it's time for your semi-annual lesson in metallurgy! (Actually, I don't think I've ever given a metallurgy lesson here before, but after you read today's post, you're definitely going to want it to be a semi-annual thing. Trust me.)

As a metallurgical engineer, I've spent my fair share of time in heat treat shops, metalcasting foundries and steel mills. I find these places intensely fascinating - there's something hypnotic and awe-inspiring about glowing liquid metal and the processes by which it is produced.

Let's take steelmaking, for example. The first step in steelmaking is the chemical conversion of iron ore into a type of iron metal called pig iron. This process, known as smelting, takes place in a large chimney-like tower known as a blast furnace. Iron ore (which is basically rusty-looking rock) is fed into the top of the tower, along with coke (a coal derivative), which I assure you is neither an illegal controlled substance, nor a fizzy beverage. Very hot air, known as "blast", is blown into the bottom of the tower (at about 2200ºF), where it combines with the iron ore and coke from the top. This combination of materials, heat and oxygen produces a chemical reaction (aka, "magic") that causes the iron atoms to release from the ore as a hot liquid pig iron. The bottom of the blast furnace is tapped with a drill, the liquid pig iron pours into special rail cars to be transported to the next stage of the steelmaking process.

Blast furnaces like this one are used to convert iron ore into pig iron. They are really, really, REALLY hot. I mean, like, REALLY.

Now please wake up so I can explain why I just told you all that crap! Did you all realize that the term "sweat like a pig" has absolutely nothing to do with pigs of the animal type? It is, in fact, related to the production of pig iron in the steelmaking process. When pig iron is cool enough to be used in the next step of steelmaking, beads of condensation form on the surface. It begins to "sweat". And I'll bet you thought metallurgy had no practical application to running... just think of pig iron the next time you're pouring sweat during a hard interval workout!

It should come as no surprise that blast furnaces, and the buildings in which they are housed, are quite toasty; steelmaking is not for the faint of heart. If you don't believe me, just take a gander at this video of a blast furnace in action. Steelmaking will make anyone sweat like a pig.

But you know what else is not for the faint of heart? Running in Central Illinois in the summer heat.

Earlier this week, I went for some runs that felt exactly like running around a blast furnace. And for those who doubt my comparison... yes, I have been around a blast furnace; I know what it feels like (although I will admit I've never been compelled to run around one).

Last Saturday, my 12-mile long run was a hot, miserable slog, even at 7 o'clock in the morning. Sunday wasn't much of an improvement, although at least there was cloud cover and rain to cool me off a little bit. On Monday, my afternoon "easy" 3-mile run was anything but easy as I battled a heat index of 96°, a hot wind, and glaring sunshine. And Tuesday, at a 93º FAST run, I found my pace slipping with each consecutive 400m repeat, while my effort seemed to increase exponentially. It was only a 4 mile run, but I could not have run any farther if I wanted to. It was just ridiculous.

So after several days in a row of running in the Blast Furnace Zone, I really needed a break. The heat was dragging me down both physically and mentally.

The forecast for Wednesday called for more of the same - relentlessly hot, humid, and sunny. I wanted nothing to do with it. It was time to revisit my old friend, the indoor track. Some might say running in circles is worse than running in the searing heat. I respectfully disagree. Of course, I have logged so many miles on the indoor track, thanks to training for the indoor marathon last winter, that I have learned to find enjoyment in it.

And believe me, I enjoyed every one of my 75 laps (10 miles) around the track in relatively cool comfort. It was actually pretty warm and humid on the track, but it was much cooler than the 95º weather outside. My effort felt easy the whole time, my pace wasn't reduced to a crawl, I sweated but not like a pig, and when I was done, I felt like I could've kept going. It was exactly the boost in morale that I needed.

Mother Nature has finally given us a little break outside, and for a few days the temperatures should stay below 80º. What is it they say about the weather in Illinois? If you don't like it, just wait 5 minutes and it will change. Or 5 days, as the case may be. One minute it's a blast furnace, the next minute it's a cryogenic treatment chamber (that's another metallurgy lesson for another day... probably a day in the middle of winter).

So kids, let's sum up the steelmaking-running analogy (because there will be a quiz later): In Illinois in the summertime, we sometimes have to run in blast-furnace-like temperatures, which causes us to sweat like pigs (of the iron variety, not the animal variety).

For your homework, I expect you all to memorize the process of converting iron ore to pig iron. And I would like a 4-page typed, single-spaced essay on the history of steelmaking and how it relates to the sport of long-distance running. Extra credit for anyone who includes credible references to Jim Fixx and/or Katherine Switzer.

Who knew my engineering degree would come in handy for so much more than engineering??? I bet my parents are beaming with pride as we speak. And if they happen to be reading this, they should know they are not exempt from the quiz.

Peace. Love. Train.

Sweat Like A Pig: Birthday Edition

2011-06-01T17:15:00.000-05:00

Well folks, this past Monday was my birthday, which of course means I am 29 once again. As I begin another year of being alive, I find this is a good time to reflect on events of the past year, and look forward to what the next year of life has to bring. I also find it a good time to eat cake. And for anyone who is trying to decide on that perfectly-themed birthday cake for me, look no further:

It's a running shoe! It's a cake! It's both! Although I'm pretty sure fondant, buttercream and devil's food cake don't offer much in the way of cushioning or stability. So we'll just skip the run and eat cake instead.

My birthday is also apparently a good time for my coaches to inflict all manner of pain and torture upon me and my teammates.

In all fairness, yesterday's FAST workout was one of my favorites. You all remember "The FAST", right? It's a tough workout, but the combination of hills and speedwork give it nice variety to keep it from getting boring (not that anything we do at FAST is ever boring). We hadn't done this workout since late last summer, so it was a pleasant(???) surprise when the coaches sprang it on us last night. The concept was simple: alternate 800m hills with 800m flats, with very brief recoveries between. As a member of the (unfortunate?) Black group, I had to run four sets of these, which really wasn't too bad. It was a shorter workout than we usually have (remind me to tell you all about last Thursday's 9 mile extravaganza of 800m repeats sometime).

I should've known, though, that a short workout meant the coaches were up to no good. They had a special birthday surprise for me in the form of, you guessed it, a maintenance mile. But this gift wasn't just for me. No, it was for all the FASTies. As Coach Brad put it, "The maintenance mile is a very large cake, and everyone gets a slice!"

That was not the kind of birthday cake I had in mind. *scowl*

The last time I ran a maintenance mile, which I remember quite distinctly because it hurt like hell, was during Winter FAST on the blissfully flat and climate-controlled indoor track (in a time of 7:24). Now I would be running a very hilly, hot and humid mile. Given how sluggish I had felt during the workout, I did not expect anything better than 8:30. And even that might be pushing it.

Coach Maggie wrote down everyone's predictions; whoever ran closest to their predicted time would get a Running Central gift certificate. Oh, and there were no watches allowed during the maintenance mile. I was exhausted and overheated and there was a big hill on the mile route, so I predicted 8:45.

Brad started several of us together, since he was the timekeeper. I tried my darndest to keep up with speedsters Tim and Brian, but I only made it about 10 feet before they took off like rockets and left me in their dust. I settled into a painful-but-not-quite-nauseating pace and tried to remind myself that it would all be over in just a few minutes. Then I got to the big hill and suddenly a few minutes felt like eternity. I was positive my pace had slowed to a crawl and that I would be lucky to finish this mile in under 10:00. I crested the hill and sailed down the other side, taking advantage of the "recovery" to get a little bit of my breath back, and then rounded the final corner to the mostly flat final portion of the route. Before I knew it, I was making my push for the finish and Brad was calling out my time.

7:51

Huh. Turns out I had more juice left in me than I thought I did. It wasn't a great mile by any means, but it was a whole lot better than I thought it would be. Needless to say, I didn't win the gift certificate (but big congrats to Brian, who did win it with his super-speedy 6:16 mile that was only 4 seconds off of his prediction. Talk about great pacing!).

So to sum up: For my birthday, my wonderful coaches gave me "The FAST", a maintenance mile, and no cake. There's something seriously wrong with this picture.

But the fact is, it's "gifts" like those that have made me a better runner in the last year. The numbers speak for themselves. In the last year, my average run pace has improved by nearly 1:30 per mile (that's right, a minute and a half... per mile!), my average run distance has increased by over 2 miles, and my weekly and monthly mileage has almost doubled. I am also running more days per week. Just this last month (May), I ran a record 185 miles. Also in the last month, I had a record mileage week of 48 miles. And the strange thing is, I'm not even really training for anything at the moment. I'm just running because I can and I want to.

I definitely wouldn't be where I am today without the pain and torture of FAST. So maybe their birthday gift to me was appropriate, even if it wasn't very much fun. Although I still think that some post-maintenance mile cake would've been nice. I mean, come on guys, we gotta refuel!

Peace. Love. Train.

No words. Only pain. Lots and lots of pain.

2011-05-13T12:40:00.006-05:00

I usually don’t have much trouble writing blog posts about various workouts and races, but today I find myself at a complete loss for words. Last night’s FAST workout was simply indescribable. But that isn’t going to stop me from trying to describe it anyway, because in my state of post-run exhaustion and pain, I need a little sympathy.

I should have known when I showed up at the park and Coach Brad said “We have a totally new workout for you all tonight” with an evil glint in his eye, that we were doomed.

Gone were the days of predictable and measurable workouts like 800m repeats and timed fartleks. The coaches had cooked up something completely crazy and we were all going to suffer.

"The workout is easy to understand, but not easy to do," he said.

Oh dear.

The coaches had marked off a loop that was a little over a mile long. Within said loop, they had marked off intervals of varying length and hilliness. The concept was simple, run the intervals hard and recover between the intervals. This workout wold be difficult enough under normal circumstances. But the loop in question was insanely hilly, with hardly a flat section to be found. And the hard intervals included both steep uphills and steep downhills. My quads were whimpering already and I hadn't even started running yet.

Coach Brad's instructions were to "run as many loops as you can, and when you think you can't run any more, run one more loop."

Well gee, doesn't that sound fun???

We started out with a short warm-up (1/2 mile) and then proceeded right into our loops. In the map below, I have marked the warm-up route and the interval loop. I have also indicated approximately where the hard intervals were by painting shaky red lines over the map. I apologize for my poor mouse-painting skills. As you can see, the intervals varied greatly in length. And the recoveries were all short. Too short!

As soon as I started up the first hill of the first loop, I knew I was in for a rough workout. I wasn't sure I'd be able to manage more than about three of these loops. They were that bad. I ended up slowing down a bit after my first loop just to keep from passing out and/or throwing up and/or dying. Oh, and did I mention it was 82°? That's not exactly hot, but it's a whole lot warmer than what we're used to running in, so it made the workout that much more difficult.

After my third loop, I was pretty sure that death was imminent.

I was also sure that I was not going to be doing more than five loops. I just didn't have it in me. I had just raced a half-marathon five days ago, the weather was warm, and I was tired. Five loops would make for about a 6.5-mile workout. That was plenty!

But then, as I was getting ready to start my fifth loop, fellow FASTie Yvonne said "You're only doing 5? But you're in the Black Group!" (The Black Group being the highest mileage of the FAST sub-groups.) Great. I had just gotten peer-pressured into running more. Thanks a lot, Yvonne!

So I managed to get through six crazy hilly loops without dying. Although my legs were so fried by the end that they were both numb and in pain at the same time. It was easily the single most difficult FAST workout I have ever had the "pleasure" of doing. And that's really saying something, because we have done some real doozies before.

All in all, last night's workout totaled 8 miles, and the average pace wasn't any faster than my usual easy pace. It's almost disappointing to run so hard and feel so exhausted for such a ho-hum pace. But just looking at the elevation plot (the green graph in the plot below) tells you that this workout was anything but ho-hum.

(Click to see full-screen)

You know, a workout like this really needs a name. Remember "The FAST"? Now that was a workout that deserved a name. But this workout is even worse (better?) than The FAST. It needs an appropriately evil and horrible name. Might I suggest "Satan's Pitchfork"? It's just a suggestion...

Peace. Love. Train.

Indiana wants me... to set a new PR!

2011-05-08T16:44:00.000-05:00

Another weekend, another road trip! This time I headed to Indianapolis for the country's largest half-marathon: the 500 Festival Mini-Marathon. After all the easy-paced running at Flying Pig weekend, I was kind of itching to run fast. I had mentioned this to my coaches, so they had me do a brief taper this week at FAST, just in case I did decide to race. It was going to be a nearly game-day decision, based on the weather (which wasn't supposed to be great) and how I felt, but I was optimistic that I'd get a shot at a new PR.

Just can't wait to get on the road again...

When I finally reached wonderful Indianapolis (one of my favorite cities, along with Cincinnati and now Milwaukee), I checked into my hotel and headed straight for the race expo. It was a short block-and-a-half walk from my hotel. As expos go, it was okay. The Flying Pig is an event roughly half the size of the Indy Mini (20,000 runners versus 40,000), but the Flying Pig's expo is easily three times larger than Indy's. But it's like they say: it's not really the size that matters, it's how they use the floorspace. (They do say that, don't they?) There were some cool booths to check out (Saucony Kinvara 2's are out now!) and lots of official mini-marathon gear for sale. If I had known what was in store for me at the race, I might have actually bought something.

Expo!

I picked up my race packet and headed back to the hotel to see what sort of swag I had gotten. The last time I ran this race (two years ago in '09), I believe I got a long-sleeved cotton shirt and a tech hat. The swag is still similar, but the shirt is tech fabric and, thankfully, not white. Plus they've added something new: washing machine cleaner. I know what you're thinking. What's washing machine cleanliness got to do with running? Well, everything! If your washing machine is grimy, it means your running gear isn't getting clean. And dirty running gear is less aerodynamic, causing you to run more slowly. It's all scientifically documented. Really, I swear. So a clean washing machine equals faster running. I, for one, cannot wait to clean my washing machine and see a measurable improvement in my race times as a result.

Long sleeved-tech shirt, tech hat, and washing machine cleaner - score!

I was supposed to meet up with fellow FASTie, Nikki, and her family for dinner... but circumstances beyond our control prevented that from happening. So I ended up down at my hotel's pasta buffet for dinner. This turned out to be an excellent choice. I didn't have to make a reservation, I didn't have to walk anywhere, there was no wait, and the food was outstanding. I had a salad, some grilled vegetables, a breadstick, some penne with creamy tomato sauce, and far too many desserts (they were tiny, I swear). I definitely felt properly carbed up after all that. Nevermind that one really doesn't need to carb load before a half-marathon.

I moseyed back up to my room, relaxed on the very comfortable bed with my iPad, and then eventually drifted off into a good night's sleep. I woke up feeling refreshed, which was a stark contrast to how I felt the morning of my last half-marathon. No seagulls disturbed my sleep this time! I enjoyed a light breakfast and a cup of coffee and then I turned on some Get Pumped Music. Hopefully I didn't disturb my neighbors too much, but with a song like this, you just can't keep the volume low:

A snippet from my new favorite Get Pumped Pre-Race song. The Vulture, by Pendulum

I checked the weather forecast one more time, expecting to see lots of rain ahead for my race. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that the rain was supposed to hold off until about 10am. There was also very little wind. With temps in the low-to-mid 50's, a bit of cloud cover, and no wind or rain, I was definitely in business for racing this half. I was pumped!

The air was crisp and cool as I walked the several blocks to the start area. The sun was just starting to light up the eastern sky and runners were spilling out onto the streets from their various hotels and parking garages. This event, which consists of a half-marathon and a 5k, draws a combined total of about 40,000 participants. The starting corrals, which go from A to Z, stretch five city blocks. The last time I ran this event, I was in Corral S. It had taken me 45 minutes to cross the starting line after the gun was fired. This time, I qualified for a Preferred Corral, and was in Corral F. I could actually see the starting line from my corral! It sounds kind of ridiculous, but just being in this corral made me feel a faster and stronger. And part of me felt like I needed to prove that I deserved to be there.

Lucky Corral F?

As race time drew nearer, people starting filing into their corrals. I wanted to be front and center in my corral, so I got in early to stake my claim. I started chatting with a nice woman standing next to me and she mentioned that her husband had bought her an entry into this race for Christmas. She seemed to think that was kind of weird. Personally, I think it's awesome. I think more people should give race entries (especially for hard-to-get-in-to races like this one) as gifts!

Representing Team FAST

Soon we were singing the national anthem, and everyone was positioned in their corrals. I had nearly forgotten about the beach balls until I got hit in the head by one. Apparently this is a tradition, because it happened the last time I ran this race. Somebody (race officials?) release hundreds of beach balls into the corrals and runners hit them around until the race starts.

Balls flying everywhere!

Before we knew it, we were counting down the last 10 seconds until race start, and then we were off! It took me less than 4 minutes to cross the starting line. What a difference from last time!

I wanted to try very hard to run even splits for this race. That meant I needed to ramp up to my goal pace very quickly, which is something I'm not used to doing. No 11:00 pace for the first three miles to get warmed up. No, I needed to turn it on, and I needed to turn it on fast. My goal pace was 9:05, which would allow me to squeak in at just under 2:00. I honestly wasn't sure if I could run that pace for the whole 13 miles, but I sure was going to try. My first mile was slow, at 9:21, due to crowds of runners that were hard to get around. I didn't want to waste a lot of energy zig-zagging around people, so I just surged ahead when I was able and hoped the field would thin out soon. The field never did thin out, but the distribution of paces seemed to adjust itself naturally so that I wasn't constantly trying to get around slower people.

My next three miles were 9:00 spot on and I felt great. I decided to try to stick with the 9:00 pace until after Mile 7. If I still felt great at Mile 7, then I would try to pick up the pace a bit from there.

I can't say enough great things about the Mini Marathon course. It's flat like a pancake (mmmm... pancakes), and there's nonstop entertainment the whole way. The spectators are wonderful too. There is definitely no shortage of motivation in this race, and I could tell it was really helping my run. I pretty much smiled the entire race (except for maybe the last mile or two, when it got pretty intense). I sang along with some of the bands, high-fived lots of kids, and laughed at some of the more amusing entertainment (like the old ladies who were country line-dancing - awesome!). Who knew running at a 9:00 pace could be so much fun?

Then the course entered Indy Speedway. This part was wicked-cool last time I ran this race. And it is still wicked-cool. It's the most pristine running surface I'll probably ever encounter; nary a pothole in sight. This is probably the quietest part of the entire course, although there were several cheerleading squads in the speedway to give us a mental boost. They were truly wonderful - I don't know how they cheered for so long without losing their voices.

After leaving the speedway, we were at Mile 8, and I was still feeling very strong. So I decided to push a little more and see what I could do. I knew if I stayed at a 9:00 pace, I would be cutting it very close for a sub-2:00. I kept thinking to myself, "Leave nothing to chance"... I wanted to be absolutely certain I would come in under 2:00. If I ran a little faster, I could give myself a bit of a buffer. And so I pushed.

From Mile 8 until the finish, my pace was well under 9:00. In fact, each mile after 7 got faster and faster. It was definitely my day, and I was so ready to join the ranks of the sub-2:00 runners. I knew anything could happen between Mile 8 and the finish - I could trip and fall (a disturbingly likely scenario), I could hit the wall, the guy in front of me shaking out his left arm could have a heart attack and I'd need to stop to help him, etc. But I was trying not to think about those things, and instead focus on the fact that I had less than 5 miles to go... less than 4 miles... less than 3... less than 2... just 1 mile to go....

The last mile felt the longest, even though it was actually the shortest, time-wise. It was incredibly difficult. There was a man running slightly ahead of me in an orange shirt. I made it my goal in life to stick with this man. I was not going to let him get away from me. There were markers along the side of the road that said "3/4 mi to go", "1/2 mi to go", "1/4 mi to go". It seemed that these markers got farther and farther apart, and I was pretty sure they were moving the finish line away from me as I ran toward it.

But then something amazing happened. I made it to the finish line! It was a bit emotional, finally running a half-marathon in under 2:00. I glanced at my Garmin as I hit the Stop button. 1:56:55. Over 3 minutes to spare; I had left nothing to chance.

Leaving nothing to chance: the best half-marathon of my life. (click to see full-screen)

As I was walking through the finish chute, a man came up from behind me and said "Thank you. I just want you to know that you were my pacer from almost the very beginning. I just kept looking for your pigtails and red shirt. You really helped me. I just wanted you to know that." I don't think I have ever felt so honored in my entire running career as I did right then.

The Mini Marathon really knows how to make tired runners happy. First, they give out a super-cool medal which weighs about 6 tons. But they know that's a lot to carry around when you're famished, so then they give you a plastic grocery bag and fill it up with bananas, fruit cups, cookies, bottled water, granola bars and Gatorade. It was a veritable smorgasbord of post-run delicacies, and I was starving, so the banana and the cookie got gobbled up right away. They had professional photographers taking post-race portraits, so I stood in line for my picture, and then made my way to the post-race party.

Since I was alone, I didn't really plan to do much actual partying. But I wanted to find the Results Tent and get my official race time. When I did, I was beyond ecstatic.

1:56:52 (8:56 pace)

It was a PR by nearly 8 minutes (and that PR had only been set a month ago). I felt like a rockstar. I also felt really good, physically. When I had crossed the finish, I was exhausted. But I think that post-race banana and cookie really perked me back up. The walk back to the hotel was easy-breezy (no hobbling!), except for the ice-cold rain that was falling on me.

Did I mention the rain had started almost as soon as I crossed the finish line? It was like I had just outrun Mother Nature. And she wasn't happy about it at all! So for several blocks, I was wet and cold... but that made my post-race hot shower all that much better. Ahhhhhh....

And now, without further ado, the Shiny Medal of Victory!

Look, it's bigger than my head!

So now what? I have reached a huge milestone as a runner: the sub-2:00 half-marathon. I am absolutely thrilled! But am I satisfied? Heck no! I have new goals to achieve. New races to run. New paths to tread. The great thing about running is that you never have to be content with where you are; there is always something else to strive for.

I actually didn't believe I was capable of running sub-2:00 until I actually did it. It makes me wonder what else I'm capable of that seems unattainable at the moment. I suppose only time will tell.

In the mean time, now that Flying Pig and Indy are behind me, I am ready to start planning out my training for the Lakefront Marathon. Do I have goals for that race? Absolutely. Am I going to tell you what they are? Absolutely not!

So don't even try to ask. Because I ain't tellin'. At least not now...

Peace. Love. Train.

Hamming it up at the Flying Pig!

2011-05-02T15:43:00.012-05:00

Well, folks, it's that time of year again: the time when we put on poofy tutus, squeal like pigs, and get funky in Cincinnati. No, it's not crazy Cousin Eddie's wedding... it's Flying Pig time!

Just like last year, Cincinnati put on an amazing weekend full of fun, challenges, adventures and laughs. My best friend Shelley and I had the privilege of running three of the Flying Pig races: the 10k, 5k, and half-marathon. (Our friend Michele also joined us for the 5k) Here are some highlights from the weekend events:

The Flying Pig Expo

This year's expo was pretty much identical to last year's, in terms of size, offerings, and organization. It is hands down one of the best expos around. The volunteers (called "Grunts") are friendly, efficient and always smiling. The swag is second-to-none. And the Flying Pig-themed gear you can purchase is very high-quality. I may or may not have purchased several super-cute piggy-themed things.

Shelley is very excited about the swag - three t-shirts, art posters and an embroidered backpack!

Toyota 10k - Saturday, April 30, 8:00am

The first race event of the weekend was the 10k. The start area, just outside the Great American Ballpark (home of the Cincinnati Reds), was fun and energizing with a live DJ and lots of runners. Shelley and I had opted to wear our Team Shiny Medal shirts (which we wore for the Niagara Falls Marathon Relay last fall). We were pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself.

The shirts say "Ooo Shiny!" And yes, we have the same shoes.

It was a cool and sunny morning in downtown Cincinnati - perfect running weather. The 10k course starts at the ballpark, crosses over the Ohio River into Kentucky, meanders along the riverfront, crosses back over another bridge into Ohio and finishes back at the ballpark. It's not an easy course. The bridges (there are three total) are essentially long hills, and there are also several other hills along the route. As you will soon see, it was just a warm-up for what was to come on Sunday.

We had no intention of racing any of the weekend's events. I know what you all are thinking. Yes, it's true I have a long history of not being able to not race races. But I assure you, we actually stuck to the plan of not racing.

However, it had been over 3 years since the last time I ran a 10k. So I was able to set a new 10k PR in this non-race just from running at a moderate pace. It's not a particularly impressive time and I know both Shelley and I are capable of significantly faster. But coming away with an unexpected PR is still a nice little bonus. It is more proof that I am less slow than I used to be!

Flying Pig 5k - Saturday, April 30, 10:00am

The next event in our Weekend of Running was the 5k. We were joined by our good friend Michele. For the most part, we let Michele dictate the pace, since she is a run-walker. But occasionally, we gave her a little nudge to run a bit farther or faster. And also, to not cheat. (That's right, Michele... we're on to you!)

Me, Michele, and Shelley before the 5k

After completing our Saturday morning races, we spent the rest of the day shopping, eating, and enjoying the city. I also went to the Flying Piglet Diaper Dash event to shoot video of a friend's daughter who was participating. It was very cute, and all the babies got medals, which promptly become teething toys. All of this walking around the city and the mall was taking a toll on my legs without me realizing it, until...

Flying Pig Half-Marathon - Sunday, May 1, 6:30am

Shelley and I woke up dark and early at 4:30 Sunday morning to get ready for the big run of the weekend. I would like to point out that Cincinnati is on Eastern Time, so 4:30am in Cincy is 3:30am where I come from. Yes, it was painful to wake up that early. The good news is that I actually slept pretty well that night, so after a cup of coffee and a light breakfast, I was ready to roll. I donned my traditional Flying Pig gear...

...and as we made our way to the starting line at Paul Brown Stadium (home of the Cincinnati Bengals) amid thousands of other runners, history repeated itself.

The rain started.

It was very light at first. Not quite like the torrential downpours and nonstop lightning and thunder of last year. But it was definitely building. And as we walked, it rained a little more. And as we waited in line for one more port-a-potty stop, it rained a little harder. And as we made our way to the "Pig Pen" corrals with less than 10 minutes til the race start, it rained a little harder still.

The Flying Pig instituted a corral start system for the first time ever this year. It was much-needed, since this race is quite large and not all runners are effective at self-seeding. We were supposed to be in Corral D. We never did get there though. We made as far as Corral C when they opened up the barriers between corrals and the race started. Oops! We were not alone, though. Another girl, who was running her first full marathon, hadn't made it to her corral either. She asked us what kind of pace we were running. We said we didn't really have a planned pace - we were just going to run easy. She said that's what she was doing too... And so, for the first several miles, we were joined by the adorable and bubbly Allison, from Charlotte, NC. We ran and chatted for the first four miles, until she stopped to stretch. She is also a blogger, and here is her very cute blog.

After the Kentucky and downtown Cincinnati miles, things get very hairy in the Flying Pig half-marathon and marathon events. After Mile 5, the Big Climb begins. And it just never seems to end. Just when you think the course has leveled off, you turn a corner and there's more hill to climb. But the great thing about the Flying Pig is that even the hills are fun, because the spectators and course volunteers are so enthusiastic and energetic. Even in the pouring rain (and it did pour rain for most of the run), Cincinnatians crowd the streets by the thousands to cheer on the runners. You can't help but feel a burst of energy from all the excitement.

Elvis performs at this spot every year, near the bottom of the Big Hill

The reward at the top of the Big Hill: the view from Eden Park. It's a Kodak Moment! Look how drenched we are from the rain.

Now's a good time to mention the aid station entertainment. The Flying Pig has a contest every year where runners can vote on their favorite aid station. And the aid stations work very hard to earn the title of Favorite Fluid Station. Some of our favorite aid stations included the Avondale Running Club at Mile 6, who were rapping such classic and witty things as "The Gatorade is in the green cups. The Gatorade is in the green cups." Entertaining and informative! We also very much enjoyed the Walnut Hills High School Football Team at Mile 10, and not just because they were very cute. *wink wink* They were also unbelievably enthusiastic, giving out high fives and shouting encouragement to every runner who passed by.

The last few miles of the race were pretty tough for both of us. Cardiovascularly, I was fine; I wasn't breathing hard and my heart rate was low. But my legs were very tired and my feet were sore. All of the running and walking yesterday must have taken a toll. Shelley was also suffering a bit since she is getting over a recent bout of pneumonia. So we did take a few walk breaks on some of the steeper hills.

I felt a little wimpy about those walk breaks. But when I got home and uploaded my Garmin data, I was shocked to see that the total climb on the half-marathon course was over 1,000 feet. The full marathon course climbs about 1,500 feet total, so the half-marathon is actually a tougher course than the full marathon, on a climb-per-mile basis. Also, the Big Hill is from Mile 5 - 8.5 on both courses. This means it's late in the half course, but early in the full course. The full marathon lends itself well to negative splits for this reason. The half... not so much with the negative splits.

At about Mile 10, the half course takes a nosedive and it's 2 solid miles of fairly steep downhill. It's easy on the heart, but hard on the legs. Fortunately, the race is almost over by this point. Before we knew it, we were climbing the final small hill and we knew the finish line (er, I mean, finish swine) would be just on the other side. Shelley told me she didn't have any kick in her. I told her it didn't matter because we weren't racing. She sped up anyway. So I sped up. And then she sped up some more. So I sped up some more. No finishing kick, eh?

We collected our final medal of the weekend and made our way through the insanely long finish area, where they were serving up everything from bananas to donuts to Swiss cake rolls to chocolate milk. We made our way back to the hotel, got cleaned up and put on warm, dry clothes, and wore our three medals around for the rest of the day. We were very noisy with all the clinking and clanging of the medals. But it was the sound of accomplishment. And also the sound of insanity.

Why did we run three races? Because we have a sickness. And we love shiny medals. And something about personal accomplishment and stuff.

The three little piggy medals

We will, of course, be back again next year. The Flying Pig is now a tradition that cannot be broken. Which race(s) will I run next time? Your guess is as good as mine. But I do love me a good hilly marathon...

Peace. Love. Train.

Sock Emergencies, Thunder, and Marathons, oh my!

2011-04-20T15:40:00.000-05:00

I should've known, when I was changing into my running gear yesterday and realized I had forgotten to pack socks in my gym bag, that my run was not going to go according to plan.

The plan was to arrive at Bradley Park early so that I could do my FAST workout before the predicted thunderstorms rolled in to town. Coach Brad had emailed me the workout, so I knew what I had to do (4 x 1 mi @ 10k pace, with 2 mi warm-up and 2 mi cool-down). I figured if I started 45 minutes early, I would be able to finish my 8 miles with time to spare before the weather turned nasty.

I figured wrong.

When I realized I had forgotten my beloved toe socks, I had a minor panic attack. Fortunately, I do keep a spare pair of regular socks in my bag, but they are cheap and less-than-ideal. They would be okay for maybe 4 miles, but they just wouldn't cut it for my planned 8 miles - they were blisters waiting to happen. Fortunately, I was just a few blocks away from the local running store, so I made a quick side trip there. I knew they didn't carry my beloved toe socks, but anything would be better than the socks I had. I entered the store in a panic. "I have a sock emergency!!!" I cried to the salesman. Or salesboy, I should say. He looked to be about 14.

But this kid knew his socks! His expression immediately turned to one of deep concern as he took pity on his poor sockless customer, and he started asking me relevant questions about my sock preferences and foot size. He then showed me the Wall of Socks. He pointed to the Swiftwick socks, and explained that they were made of Olefin, a Nobel-prize-winning fiber. I have never run in Nobel-prize-winning anything before (at least not that I'm aware of). My inner engineer needed these socks. So I bought a couple pairs, thanked the helpful and knowledgeable salesboy profusely, and headed to the park to start my run in moisture-wicking Nobel-prize-winning comfort.

My run started out just fine. I ran my 2 easy warm-up miles and felt good. It was cold, cloudy and a bit windy, but not too uncomfortable. But when I started my first mile repeat, things started getting dicey. First I felt a few rain drops on my head. Big, fat ones. No big deal, though; I've run in rain before and it's not so bad. But then the sky broke open and within 30 seconds, I was drenched from head to toe. As a wearer of eyeglasses, this also meant that I couldn't see where I was going because my glasses were covered in water drops.

Desperately in need of tiny windshield wipers

Since I couldn't possibly get any wetter, I figured I may as well keep on running. At the start of my 2nd mile repeat, the wind started picking up, and I thought I heard a faint rumbling in the distance. As I got farther into it, I definitely heard rumbling. And when I finished that repeat, Coach Brad told me that FAST practice was officially canceled due to lightning. The sky was getting darker and scarier, and the rain was getting heavier, so I thought it best to heed his advice to get the heck out of dodge.

But I did not want to stop at just 4 miles. I sat in my car and pondered my options. I could drive home, put on dry clothes, and finish my run on my own poorly-calibrated treadmill. But the temptation to put on comfy sweats and lie on the couch might prove too irresistible. My other option was to drive to the gym and run on a treadmill there. There would be no excuses there. If I went to the gym, I'd have to run. So that's what I did.

When I arrived at the gym 20 minutes later, I realized that I was about to go run on a treadmill soaking wet and dressed for cold outdoor conditions. I was so wet, in fact, that my shoes were making squishy sounds as I walked. I felt ridiculous, to say the least. But I was determined. Squishy shoes or not, I was going to finish my run.

In keeping with my streak of good luck for the night, the more secluded treadmills in the very back corner of the gym were taken. I was going to have to run in plain view of everyone. Everyone was going to see me dripping water onto the treadmill, and they were going to point and laugh at my squishy-sounding shoes. I did not come here to get laughed at, I thought to myself. So I got on the treadmill, water dripping from my hair, and I cranked that bad boy up to 6.6 mph (which isn't exactly blazing, but that's probably about my 10k pace) and I ran.

*squish squish squish squish squish squish*

I noted that although my shoes were squishy, my feet felt remarkably comfortable. Must've been the Nobel-prize-winning Olefin fibers in my new socks. Apparently, Olefin is 10 times more hydrophobic than cotton. Those of you who know me personally know I am all about hydrophobic fibers. Or maybe it's cookies. That's right, I'm all about cookies. But hydrophobic fibers are right up there on my list too!

Before I knew it, my run was over, and my clothes had actually dried out pretty well in that short amount of time. They must be made of hydrophobic fibers as well.

So I did manage to complete my prescribed 8 mile workout, but with an unplanned 20-minute rest in the middle. I suppose this defeated the purpose of the workout, which was to do the mile repeats in fairly rapid succession. But I did the best I could with the conditions I was given. I even got in one final sprint. As I was walking out of the gym, the weather was particularly nasty and lightning was striking in the near vicinity and nonstop. I was on high alert - I know too many people who have been struck by lightning to mess around with it. So I think I was running about a 6:00 pace from the gym entrance to my car. I wish I had turned my Garmin on for that sprint.

The whole evening was a sort of comedy of errors, all starting with the sock emergency incident. So, let this be a lesson to you all, kids: Never forget socks. And if you do, I recommend heading straight home and hiding in the basement.

In other news (and to see how many of you actually read my blog posts all the way to the bitter end), I have officially registered for a fall marathon. My more alert readers may remember me declaring wholeheartedly that I would not run another marathon in 2011.

I lied.

Like a dog.

The truth is, I have a very serious and debilitating condition called Marathon Deficiency Syndrome (MDS). I didn't want to tell you all about it, because I didn't want you all to worry. But I can no longer hide the truth from you, my loyal readers. The only treatment for severe MDS is, of course, to run more marathons. And so this summer I will begin training for the October 2 Lakefront Marathon in none other than my lucky city of Milwaukee.

If you've followed my blog for any length of time, you know that I obsess about marathons like no other race. Yes, I may get nervous or excited just before a 5k or a half-marathon. But a marathon is another beast. A marathon is four or five solid months of obsession and passion and sweat and pain (this didn't sound so kinky until typed it out, I swear). And when I really think about it, that's the whole reason I started this blog in the first place: to document my journey to the marathon, whether it's Flying Pig, Chicago, Icebreaker, or Lakefront, or the many more I'm sure are to follow. So here we go, on another marathon journey. It should be a fun one. And I will try to remember to bring socks!

Peace. Love. Train.

Mastering the Art of Sleep-Running: The South Shore Half-Marathon

2011-04-10T14:12:00.006-05:00

You wouldn't think it would be possible to race a half-marathon on only an hour of sleep the night before. You might not even think it would be possible to easy-jog a half-marathon on one hour of sleep. Well, my friends, you would be wrong.

I arrived in Milwaukee early Friday afternoon, intent on being able to settle into my hotel room, eat an early dinner, and enjoy a good night's sleep before running the South Shore Half-Marathon the next morning. I did all of those things except get a good night's sleep. Why? Because of the damn seagulls.

I don't typically sleep well the night before a race anyway, but throw noisy seagulls into the equation, and you've got a recipe for serious insomnia. At first, I didn't know what the ruckus was. I couldn't tell if it was rowdy people on the street below (even though I was 10 stories up), or some strange city noise I wasn't familiar with, or what. But when I finally got frustrated enough to get out of bed and look out the window, I was greeted by the sight of a dozen or so seagulls flying around outside my window, squawking merrily. I was tempted to open my window and hurl those little bottles of hotel shampoo and mouthwash at them.

And so I spent the whole night tossing and turning and wishing for sleep. I finally dozed off, and five minutes later (or so it seemed), my alarm went off. I stumbled out of bed, fumbled with the in-room coffee maker so I could get some Elixir of Life, and choked down a granola bar. I was beyond exhausted, could hardly eat, and felt like I had been hit by a bus. There was just no way I was going to run a good race.

I drove to the race start in a complete daze. I vaguely remember filling out the registration form, and paying my $15 entry (yes, this no-frills half-marathon costs only $15), and pinning on my race number.

The race organizers promise all entrants a "pair of really colorful running gloves". I don't know if I'd call the gloves we received "really colorful", but they weren't black like all my other gloves, and they were warm. Interestingly enough, warm gloves were not needed this day. The temperature was surprisingly comfortable for this time of year along Lake Michigan. The course for this race is an out-and-back stretch along the Oak Leaf Bike Trail, which runs right along the lake. It begins and ends at South Shore Park.

After milling around the park for a while, it was time to line up for the start. I barely heard the "gun" (which wasn't actually a gun), but everyone had started moving, so I guess that meant it was time to run. The air was cool, the sky was cloudy, and there was very little wind. It was the perfect day for a half-marathon. If only I had gotten a little more sleep!

I started out very conservatively, so I could gradually warm up and settle into my goal pace (about 9:45). I wasn't sure I would be able to hang on to my goal pace for very long, but I wanted to at least try. The first three miles were all over 10:00. They were also somewhat hilly miles. I wouldn't call the course hilly so much as I'd call it gently rolling, but I definitely felt the elevation changes. After the third mile, I started stepping up my pace, intent on sticking with goal pace for as long as possible.

By the 5th mile, I realized I actually felt really good. I was pleasantly surprised. I settled in behind a couple of guys who seemed to be running about the pace I wanted to run. I figured I'd draft off of them for a while and see how I felt in a couple miles. By the time I reached the turnaround point, I had passed the two guys and was gaining speed.

Near the halfway mark: feeling good at goal pace. Although I kinda look like I'm sleeping. Maybe I was. And what's the guy behind me wearing??? Let's look closer...

Manpris. He's wearing manpris. I actually own that same pair of capris. I bought them in the women's department.

I was pretty sure the out portion of the course was a net uphill. At least it sure felt like I climbed more than I descended. So I was optimistic that the back portion of the course would be a net downhill, and I'd be able to step up my pace even more.

I was correct. You can see from my Garmin data below that the second half of the race was indeed a net downhill. I really kicked into overdrive at this point, and all of my miles after the turnaround were faster than goal pace. My final three miles were sub-9:00, even.

I had no idea what my finish time would be. I wasn't really paying that much attention to my total time, and pretty much just pacing by feel, occasionally glancing at my mile splits when my Garmin auto-lapped. I knew I would be happy with any PR (which would be anything under 2:13:20). And I knew I would be ecstatic with a time under 2:10. But as I approached the finish line and what felt like breakneck speed (final 0.1 mile - 7:06 pace), and I saw the race clock hit 2:05:00, I was stunned. I crossed the finish a few seconds later and was pretty sure I was either going to pass out or throw up, or quite possibly both. It did not help that I had to come to a dead stop while they pulled the tags off of everyone's bibs. Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, the nausea was fleeting, and shortly after that, I was enjoying the post-race beer. I later found out my official time was 2:04:45, which far exceeded my expectations. That's over 8 minutes off my previous PR. Ecstatic doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about that!

Garmin data - click to see it full-screen

So what about the race itself? It was a steal at $15. There's no fancy swag, no t-shirt, no shiny medals, no rock bands stationed at every mile. But that's not why we run races anyway. This pure-and-simple race was well-organized (by the Badgerland Striders), with a scenic and enjoyable course, plenty of aid stations (3 or 4, I think, which we got to hit twice, since it was an out-and-back course), chip timing, and plenty of post-race beer and snacks.

Negatives? Well, the narrow bike path does get crowded, especially once the faster runners have passed the halfway point and are heading back. Having runners going in both directions on a narrow path leads to quite a bit of congestion. There were several times when I found myself stuck behind a slower runner but it took me a while to find a good way to get around them. I don't know that it slowed me down too much overall - I am sure I made up time somewhere else. It was just a minor nuisance.

So the moral of this story is... Don't write off a race before you even start. I almost did. But I'm really glad I didn't this time. It's just a shame I don't have a shiny medal to commemorate the occasion. Y'all know how much I love shiny medals.

Peace. Love. Train.

Oooo look, another shiny penny!

2011-04-03T13:12:00.002-05:00

Those of you who have been following my running tales for a while may remember the shiny penny I found about this time last year. Well, I wasn't planning to go looking for another shiny penny this year, until the night before the race when I was presented with a unique opportunity. I had been contemplating running the Lincoln Presidential Half-Marathon as just a training run, but I didn't know if I was up to waking up at 4am to make the drive down to Springfield for it. That's a very early morning and a very long drive for a training run. A training run I would have to pay $50 for, no less. (Don't get me wrong, this race is worth every penny - pun intended!)

But I found out a friend of mine, Jess, who had already registered for the race, was not going to be able to run it due to Achilles tendinitis. She offered me her race entry. I was uncertain at first. I've never run under an assumed identity before. And Jess is a much faster runner than I am - I would surely tarnish her speedy reputation. But she insisted that I run in her place. And so I decided to go for it. In order to not make her look bad, I opted not to wear the timing chip, so there would be no official record of "her" finish time. This was a good tactic for me, as well, because knowing there would be no official time made it a lot easier for me to run this race at an easy pace and not worry about trying to set a new PR.

So I pulled myself out of bed very, very, very early on Saturday morning and made the drive down to Springfield, mostly in the dark. It was a beautiful morning with clear skies. I could see a billion stars in the sky, until the eastern sky began to glow faintly orange. There were hardly any other cars on the interstate, making the drive very easy, and before I knew it, I was in downtown Springfield.

Finding parking for this race is a piece of cake - there is far more FREE parking than there are people running the race. I parked a block away from the Start/Finish and headed to the registration building to pick up my.... er, I mean, Jess'... packet. While I was in there, I ran in to fellow FASTies Tim, Brian and Brett. It was nice to see some familiar faces.

I pinned on my bib, threw the timing chip in my car and headed to the start area to mingle about and see if I could catch sight of Abe. Sure enough...

Abe and Mary Todd getting ready for this presidential race

By the time the race got started, the sun was shining brightly and the sky was clear blue. It was going to be a beautiful morning for a race. I set out at an easy pace, not really caring what my pace actually was, but just trying to run comfortably. A lot of people passed me in the first three miles. I didn't care.

Just like last year, there weren't a ton of spectators out on the course. But the ones who were there were very enthusiastic. The volunteers were wonderful as well. There were volunteers and/or police officers positioned at nearly every turn and road crossing, making sure the runners ran the right way and the traffic stayed out of our way. They did a wonderful job, and I sincerely thank them for being out there. There were six aid stations, all serving up water and Accelerade. One of the aid stations was also giving out Accelgels.

The first few miles of the race wind through downtown Springfield, past Lincoln's home site and the state capitol building. This building is quite a sight to behold... so much so, in fact, that I stopped to take a picture.

Runners head toward the state capitol building

After the downtown miles, the course heads west into some very beautiful park-like neighborhoods and the beautiful (but hilly) Washington Park. It was in Washington Park where I encountered the most enthusiastic aid station. All of the volunteers were cheering loudly for us, but one guy in particular could be heard above all, yelling "YEEEEEAH RUNNERS! WAY TO GO RUNNERS!!!!" I couldn't help myself. I yelled back "YEEEEEAH WATER STOP! AWESOME JOB WATER STOP!!!!" while dancing past the aid station and high-fiving all the volunteers.

From Washington Park, the course, which is much hillier from that point on, headed north through the neighborhoods, all the way up to Oak Ridge Cemetery, where Lincoln's tomb is located. Then it winds through Lincoln Park before turning back south and heading toward the finish line. The second half of the course is very hilly, and anyone not expecting this will be unpleasantly surprised by it. So a word of advice to anyone who may run this race in the future: Save your energy for the hills. You will need it.

Since I had run this race last year, I already knew about the hills, and had no trouble tackling them (it also helped that I was running at an easy pace to begin with). I was having a fantastic time regardless of the hills. I chatted with other runners, high-fived spectators, and hammed it up for the race photographers.

I picked up the pace in the last mile of the race, as I would normally do in a long training run. As I rounded one of the final turns of the race, I saw the super-enthusiastic guy from the Washington Park aid station again. He was yelling "YOU'RE ALMOST THERE! THERE'S A CAMERA WHEN YOU TURN THE CORNER, SO SMILE BIG!!!!" I couldn't help myself. I smiled big and high-fived the guy. I flew down the final stretch of road, feeling very light and strong. Off to the side of the road were Brian, Brett and Tim, cheering loudly for me. They had finished hours before, being the super-speedy runners that they are. Okay, maybe not hours but it had been a while.

As I approached the finish line, I could just make out the clock, and noticed it was at 2:13:something. I really hadn't been paying much attention to my time or pace, so I was very surprised to see that I was basically running my existing half-marathon PR time (2:13:20). I stopped my Garmin after I crossed the finish, and it showed 2:13:34. Coming within 15 seconds of my PR without even really trying (and with all those hills!) was something I was definitely not expecting.

Garmin data (click to see it full-screen)

A very nice volunteer placed my super-awesome shiny penny medal around my neck, and I made my way toward the food tent because I was starving. On my way there, I ran into Brian, Brett and Tim again. Turns out, Brian had set a new half-marathon PR. Very cool - congrats Brian! We stood in a long line to get a Team FAST picture taken with Abe and Mary Todd (which should be available early next week), and then I headed home.

Another shiny penny for my collection!

All in all, it was a blast, and I feel very fortunate to have been able to run this great race for free (thanks again, Jess!). Not only was it free, but I actually made money. I mean, I came home a whole penny richer! Now if only I could find a race dedicated to Benjamin Franklin, and start coming home with $100 bills instead.

Peace. Love. Train.

Spring FAST Kickoff: She who laughs last, runs longest.

2011-03-30T08:37:00.010-05:00

The Spring 2011 season of FAST kicked off last night and it was just another ho-hum night of easy jogging.

Okay, you don't really believe that, do you? It was actually a ridiculously crazy night of insane running. But would you ever expect anything less from FAST?

I arrived at our new Tuesday night location (Bradley Park) raring to go. It was great to see all my old FASTies, as well as lots of new faces. It was also great to be back outside, even though it was a bit on the chilly side. Things heated up soon enough, though; believe me.

After a brief start-of-season introduction by the coaches, we were instructed to do either a 1-mile or 2-mile warm-up. Coach Brad clarified this with "Those of you who should do the 2-mile warm-up already know you should do the 2-mile warm-up" while giving several of us very pointed looks. I guess that meant I was doing the 2-mile warm-up. And yes, I already knew that's what I should be doing.

After the warm-up, we were split into two groups. Since I was placed in the group containing all the really fast runners, I'm going to assume that that was considered the advanced group, although I hesitate to call myself advanced due to the fact that I'm not really fast. Maybe "Crazy Group" is a better name for us.

Coach Maggie led the Crazy Group in a series of dynamic warm-up moves and form drills. We all looked ridiculous, but at least we looked ridiculous together. I'm pretty sure the other group was pointing and laughing at us, but I'm not positive since I couldn't look any of them in the eye while I was doing "toy soldiers". Coach Brad then gave us our workout instructions in a conversation that went something like this:

Brad: "Okay, tonight you're going to be doing 800m repeats. This big loop here is 800m and we have it marked with spray paint. I got really happy with the spray paint; there are arrows everywhere. [SLAP comment: Just how happy did he get with the spray paint???] Between repeats you can walk or jog back to the start for recovery, taking about 2-3 minutes."
Group: *group nods in understanding*
Brad: "I want you to run them fast - about 5k pace. You have a choice between doing 4 or 6. And some of you may want to do 8 of them... Brian and Brett..." *Brad looks pointedly at Brian and Brett*
Me: "HAHAHAHAHA! Sucks to be you guys!" *I point and laugh at Brian and Brett because I am a supportive teammate*
Brad: "...and Emily" *Brad looks pointedly at me*
Me: "Wait... What?"
Brad: "Hey, you're the one running 43 mile weeks. You gotta keep up your mileage!"
Me: "Right... Damn."

And that's how I got suckered in to running 8 x 800m repeats, which, despite being only 4 miles total, is insanely difficult. Especially at 5k pace.

Moral of this story: She who laughs last has to run the long workout. (And then Coach Brad laughs last.)

The workout ended up being 7 miles total, including the warm-up and cooldown. And coming off a record 43-mile week, I felt every one of those 7 miles.

*~* begin sidebar *~*
Yes, I ran 43 miles last week, which was in fact a record mileage week for me. Why? Well, why not? No, I'm not training for anything in particular. I'm just... running. Because I can. And because I enjoy it. I have been gradually ramping up to this mileage over the last couple of months, and for the most part, I've been feeling very good. I'm planning to settle in here at about 40-45 miles per week for a while and see how my body responds. This is typically a weekly mileage associated with the hardest week of beginner marathon training programs. Indeed, the only times I have ever topped 40 miles per week in my running have been during the "tough week" of a marathon training plan. So I find myself in a wonderful position now, to be running 40+ miles per week and not feeling exhausted and drained like I typically would during marathon training. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. Stay tuned!
*~* end sidebar *~*

Back to this crazy workout. Crazy 8x800's, I call it. After I ran the first 800, and was not quite able to achieve 5k pace, I knew I was in for a thorough butt-kicking. Indeed, I was not able to maintain 5k pace for all eight repeats. I came close, and was never more than about 25 seconds off, but my legs just weren't cooperating enough to hit that pace every time. It was a very difficult workout. The good news is that I didn't slow down each consecutive repeat. The better news is that my last repeat was my fastest. So, even though I didn't hit 5k pace exactly, I am still pretty happy with how I ran the workout.

The 800's are laps 4 through 11. (click to see it bigger!)

After a kick-off workout like that, I am pretty nervous about what Thursday has in store for us. We will be in another new location on Thursdays: the East Peoria bike trail. This paved path is not up-and-down hilly, but has a steady gentle slope going from west to east, which will still make it a challenging place to run. And there are plenty of very large hills near the trail that I'm sure the coaches will take full advantage of. If they can find anything that competes with the Hill of Death, though, I will be pretty impressed.

Not that the coaches should interpret this as a challenge to find a new Hill of Death. Quite the contrary. The Hill of Death simply cannot be replaced, so the coaches should not even try to find a replacement. I, personally, would be quite okay with never running up a 12% grade ever again. But I know how Coaches Brad and Maggie roll. They probably have already found a new and improved hill, with something like a 236% grade. They are probably giddy with excitement about unleashing this new beast on us. Just you wait!

At least when they do, I'll know better than to laugh at the poor souls who get stuck with the longest hill workout.... because I already know I'll be one of those poor souls.

Peace. Love. Train.

Holy PR! Run With The Saints 5k race report

2011-03-19T12:00:00.020-05:00

Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know that, ever since last May (when I stumbled upon a 5k by accident, registered with 2 minutes to spare, and ended up running a PR and winning my first ever age group award), I have become a fan of the "surprise race". That is, deciding to race an event either the night before or the morning of said event. For shorter distance events (mostly 5k's), it works really well for me. I don't have time to get nervous, or psych myself out, or worry about my current level of fitness. I just show up and run and whatever happens, happens. If I have a great race, it's a huge bonus. If not, then it's not such a big letdown.

And that was my plan of attack (or non-plan, as it were) for the Run With The Saints 5k in Pekin, which benefited St. Joseph School's athletic fund. I decided yesterday that I was going to race it. And I wanted to race it hard. I had been having a frustrating week between work and several very blah runs, and what I really wanted was to take out my frustrations on the pavement.

I also wanted to know how much speed I had lost over the winter. Or gained, should that be the very unlikely case. I was going to use this 5k as a test of my current level of running fitness. And then I was going to pig out on post-race bananas and cookies. Because, let's face it, the post-race food is what draws most of us to run 5k's. I mean, come on, ALL YOU CAN EAT BANANAS!

Why this particular race? Well, a coworker of mine has recently gotten into running and he and his brother had decided to run it as their first 5k. I thought it would be cool to be there to support them. And by "support them", of course I mean "run like hell so I can finish well ahead of them, catch my breath, and then cheer them on when they finish". Believe it or not, my coworker was okay with this.

My coworker, Mike, and his brother Marty wearing the race shirts to the race - such noobs! ;-)

So I showed up at Coal Miner's Park in Pekin bright and early at 7:15 this morning, not really knowing what to expect. I paid my $20, got one of the last few available t-shirts, and quickly realized it was a lot colder than I thought it would be. I knew I was going to need to warm up before I attempted to run at any sort of fast pace because I couldn't feel my fingers.

Pre-warm-up pic. Thank goodness for the sunshine, because it was COLD. That's lucky #109!

I set out for about a 1.5 mile jog around the park where the race would be held. I encountered a decent-sized hill that I sincerely hoped was not part of the race route. My hopes would later be dashed. Twice.

Once I regained feeling to my fingers and feet, and did some fancy-looking dynamic warm-up moves to scare my competition (I growled while I did them, which I really think added to my ferocity), I headed to the starting line. I positioned myself near the front of the pack. This race was not chip timed and I wanted every advantage I could get with regard to timing. There was a group of three or four other women who had lined up near me. They looked like they could be in my age group (in this race, that was 30 to 39). They also looked like they might be fast. My confidence faltered. Maybe I hadn't growled loud enough during my dynamic warm-up. I did a few high-knees right there and gave them a dirty look.

After some pre-race instructions by the race director (which seemed to last an eternity because I was starting to get cold again), the race got started. The group of fast-looking women took off like a rocket. I resisted the temptation to keep up with them. I repeated to myself "run your own race... run your own race".

Remember that hill from the warm-up? Yeah, it was part of the race route. The race director, Mr Funnypants I think his name was, told us before the start "There's only one hill in this course... But you have to run it twice." Awesome.

The course was an interesting combination of loops and out-and-back, so that it was neither fully a loop nor fully an out-and-back. It was entirely on a nicely-paved bike path through a large park and was really a lovely place to run. My only real complaint about the course was the very tight turns, and in one case there was a hairpin turn that was pretty tricky to maneuver at 5k pace. But overall, not a bad course. I think if this race continues to grow year after year, the path will become too small for the event.

As I watched the speedy-looking girls zip ahead of me, I felt like I was running very slowly despite the fact that I was breathing very hard. I would've put money on my pace being well over 8:15. I don't look at my Garmin when I race, so I had no idea what my pace actually was, but I just felt slow. So imagine my surprise when I passed the first mile and the stopwatch guy called out "7:22!".

Uh oh.

That was way too fast. And I still had to conquer the "one hill" for the second time. I slowed down, more out of exhaustion than from a conscious effort to rein in my pace. I passed two of the speedy-looking girls. I attempted to growl at them, but I think what came out was "Guh *gasp gasp* Puh!" The second hill came into view and it looked so ginormous. Nevermind that it was only, like, 30 feet tall. In my current cardiovascular state, it may as well have been Mt Everest.

I pushed up the hill. I passed a few more people. Then the course went onto an out-and-back section that was gradually uphill going out. It was so gradual that I couldn't see the incline, but I could definitely feel it. At this point, I wanted nothing more in life than to get to the turnaround so I could be running blissfully downhill. Shortly after the 2-mile mark, there it was: the hairpin turn of doom. I managed to make the turn without slipping and falling (which, as we all know, is something I'm prone to doing). And I instantly felt the sweet relief of an ever-so-slight downgrade. I passed my coworker going the other way and gave him a feeble thumbs-up because it was all I was capable of at the moment.

It was less than a mile to the finish. Sometimes I like to think of what's left in terms of distance. Sometimes it's easier to think of it in terms of time. Today, time was on my side. A mile seemed long. Eight minutes did not. If I could just hang on for eight more minutes, I would be done! I was breathing so hard I was pretty sure my lungs were going to catch fire, but I figured I could endure that for a few minutes before it became an emergency situation.

As I rounded the last turn, I could see the finish line through the trees. I love it when I can see the finish line. It means the end of my suffering is near. As I got nearer to the finish line, I could start to make out the clock. However, some dude was standing right in front of it and his head was blocking the second number. All I could make out was 2X:52. I panicked. Twenty-what? TWENTY-WHAT??? What if it was 24:52? I didn't think I could make it there in 8 seconds to snag my coveted sub-25 time. Or worse, what it if was 25:52? Had I gotten that much slower?

Finally, the dude moved his big head and I saw a 3. A glorious, glorious 3. I wasn't going to finish under 24, but I was going to finish way under 25 and that was my big 5k goal for 2011.

I crossed the line officially in 24:03. A PR by 1:08. I was ecstatic!

Goldilocks and the Three Miles: First mile too fast. Second mile too slow. Third mile just right.

I was able to catch my breath and cheer on Mike and Marty as they crossed the finish of their first 5k race. We all celebrated pretty awesome victories. I think they are already talking about what their next race will be and what their goals will be. It certainly is addictive, this running thing.

Mike and I, both feeling pretty victorious post-race. And a bit tired too.

We stuck around for the awards ceremony. I had no idea how I had placed, or if I even had a chance. I did know that the speedy-looking girls never passed me after I passed them. But I couldn't remember how many other women were ahead of me. I saw that the awards were actual trophies. I really wanted a trophy. Nothing says "Look how much I rule!" like a gold-tone plastic person attached to a marble slab.

I have won one other trophy before and I thought the plastic person on my existing trophy might be getting lonely, so I wanted to bring home a friend for her. And I did just that. Turns out I placed 2nd in my age group, which ain't too shabby at all for a 10-year age group.

Yay! I won a plastic person on a marble slab!

But you wanna know what's even more amazing? I was 3rd place female OVERALL. I don't think I have ever placed in the top 10 overall (I think I have been 11th or 12th a couple times), let alone the top 3. I almost would rather have a 3rd place overall trophy than a 2nd place age group trophy, but believe me, I ain't complaining. I'll take any trophy I can get!

Here's a close-up of my shiny new hardware. Ain't she a beauty? She and my other trophy will be able to sit around and talk about running injuries (stiff legs?) and complain about not having a proper trophy shelf on which to be displayed.

I think I owe my success this morning to many different things, like all the hard work I've put into my training lately, and the incredible support of my coaches, friends and family. But most of all, I think I owe my success to my intimidating pre-race growling. The ability to strike fear into the hearts of my competitors is an ability that will serve me well for years to come.

*looks fierce* GRRRRRRR!

Peace. Love. Train.

How To Get Out Of Doing A FAST Workout

2011-03-03T21:30:00.003-06:00

Listen up kids, because I'm only going to explain this once.

You probably think, based on my past blog entries of torturous FAST workouts and begging for mercy and being abused by my coaches that there is just no way to get out of doing a FAST workout; that the coaches hold guns to our heads and make us run til we pass out. But this is not true! There is a way to be exempt from the insanity. And it's oh-so-simple!

Get injured.

That's right. You see, our coaches take injury very seriously. If something hurts or doesn't feel right, they will actually tell you to not do the hard workout. I learned that first-hand this week. And you know what?

Not doing the hard workout is BORING. I want to do the hard workout!

Now, you all may be wondering how I managed to get myself injured enough to get out of a FAST workout. Suffice it to say, I'm a big klutz. During my long run last Sunday, I slipped on a patch of loose gravel less than a mile from the end of my run, and took a pretty nasty spill on hard pavement. I ended up with a bloodied knee (even with two layers of pants on), two twisted ankles, and a strained left quadricep. I didn't realize my quad was strained until a couple days later, when my ankle pain went away. But when I could hardly bend my leg and my thigh felt like it was made of stone, I knew I was in trouble.

I decided to test the waters on Tuesday with an easy 5 miles outside on the golf course. What should've been easy actually felt quite difficult. My legs had no get-up-and-go. It felt like my legs weren't even working together. I ran my 5 miles at a slow 11:16 average pace, but felt like I was working much harder than I should have to for that pace. I doubted I would be in any better shape for FAST the following night.

So when I arrived at FAST last night, I told Coach Brad about my little accident and my quad issue, and he immediately instructed me to not do the hard workout, but to just run easy instead. The workout I missed was a good one too. In fact, this is the second time I have missed out on this particular workout. The first time was while I was tapering for the Icebreaker Marathon.

The workout-I-didn't-do consisted of 3 x 10 minutes of alternating 1 lap hard, 1 lap easy. In between each 10 minute set, there was a 1-minute core exercise and a 1-minute recovery. According to the FASTies who have run this workout, it's tough. And I believe them, because I've seen them do it and they look like death by the time they're done. Cute death (because us FASTies are cute), but death all the same.

I love a good tough workout, and I'm bummed I've missed out on it twice. But you guys know me; I will make this workout up at the next possible opportunity.

Instead of alternating hard and easy laps for 10 minutes at a time, I ran 10 minutes at a steady, moderate pace. I ended up running a total of 6 miles for the night, at a 9:57 average pace (including warm-up and cool-down), and I felt better overall during this run than on my Tuesday slog. I stretched my quad extra-good afterward and it seemed to be a bit more mobile than before.

Fast-forward to today and my quad is feeling even better still. There's some residual stiffness, but it's much less than yesterday, and my range of motion is improved. I went for a run on nearly the same golf course route that I ran on Tuesday, and was able to run 0:55 per mile faster, for an average pace of 10:21. It appears that running is curing my injury! Now, I don't recommend this approach for every injury. The main point to remember is that my injury wasn't caused by running. It was caused by falling. So the best way to recover from a falling injury is to simply avoid falling again. I have managed to avoid falling since Sunday *knock on wood*, and I think this has been key to my success. My knee still looks like someone took a meat tenderizer to it, but otherwise, I'm mostly recovered.

Now the next three weeks will be a test, as I will be uncoached and unsupervised. I don't know what to do with myself! As someone who coaches other people in running, I find it odd how much trouble I have putting together a training schedule for myself when it's so easy for me to do it for other people. Maybe it's just more fun to tell other people what to do. I think all of my coaching clients will agree that I do seem to take sick pleasure in telling them what to do. It's just not the same to tell myself what to do.

So, who wants to boss me around for three weeks? Any takers? I would be willing to pay for quality coaching with homemade cookies. Please submit your qualifications and a sample training plan in the comments below. And also your favorite type of cookie.

Peace. Love. Train.

FASTless FASTing

2011-02-25T09:29:00.006-06:00

Allow me to introduce Team FAST:

(photo by official unofficial FAST photographer, Steven Blanchard)

Aren't we cute? Oh wait. I'm not in this picture. Yes, as it turns out, I was traveling for work this past Wednesday and missed out on the FAST photo session. Well this simply won't do. Let me use my excellent Photoshop skillz to rectify this situation...

*tinker tinker tinker* Voila!

There, much better. And you may be wondering why I appear to be running away from Coach Brad. Believe me, I have my reasons. Not the least of which is the maintenance mile he made us all do this week.

Now, I could've taken the easy way out and decided to skip the maintenance mile, since I wouldn't have my coaches' and team's support to get me through it. But I am a tough little FASTie. I love a good challenge. What could be more challenging than doing a maintenance mile by myself?

Truth be known, I did NOT want to do it. I was having a hard time motivating myself to just get through the workout (1 mile warm-up, then repeats of 800m, 1 mi, 800m, 1 mi, and 800m). Hard workouts are just not fun without without my FASTies. I was basically FASTing FASTlessly, and I didn't like it one bit.

But I survived the workout. And I didn't slack off knowing I would be doing a maintenance mile afterward. I gave the workout my all, running my repeats in the 8:00-8:30 pace range. And after a brief recovery and a self-pep-talk, I began my maintenance mile.

I was fully expecting this mile to be slow. Or at least slower than my last maintenance mile, which was 7:37. I would've been happy with anything under 8:00, really, given my lack of motivation and the absence of expert coaching. I knew after I started that I had gone out a little too fast. But I hung on as long as I could.

And then, like an angel from heaven, there was fellow FASTie Nikki. She was working with some clients off to the side of the track, and as I flew around the turn, I managed to convey to her that I was doing a maintenance mile by using a series of grunts and pained facial expressions. She understood immediately, which was good because I was not able to form sentences or even words at that point. And every time I ran by her, she cheered me on and gave me that mental boost I so desperately needed.

With two laps to go, I felt my energy draining rapidly. Where were my wonderful coaches to tell me to suck it up? I had no idea what my pace was or whether I was slowing down or speeding up; all I knew was that I was working very hard and I wanted to be done. The nice thing about the maintenance mile (not that anything about it is really "nice") is that it's over so quickly. The pain is temporary. And before I knew it, it was over and I was hitting the Stop button on my Garmin.

After I regained consciousness, I looked down at my Garmin and had to do a double-take because it read 7:24. 7:24? That's a 13-second improvement over my last maintenance mile! I sure wasn't expecting that.

I think I would've been pretty bummed if nobody was around to celebrate with me. Fortunately, Nikki was there to give me a FASTie high five and act impressed with my mile time.

Upon reviewing my lap splits from my mile, I found that I really died off in the last 1/4 mile. So as I suspected, I started off a wee bit fast. Or maybe that's the best way to run a maintenance mile? I guess I'm not really sure. I like to run negative splits for long distances, but maybe that's not the best approach for short distances. Clearly, in this case, going out fast worked well for me overall.

There is just one more session of FAST left for the 2010-2011 Winter season, and I can't imagine how the coaches are going to top the last two crazy workouts we've had. I'm not sure they can. But I've been wrong about that before. And frankly, I'm scared.

*runs away from Coach Brad even faster than depicted above*

Peace. Love. Train.

Challenges of outdoor running

2011-02-21T08:17:00.007-06:00

Last week was a lovely week for running outside in Central Illinois. And by lovely, I mean "not blizzard-like". In fact, I managed to do three of my five runs outdoors and I enjoyed every one of them. At the same time, each outdoor run presented me with a unique challenge, turning my runs into sort of mini-adventures. Allow me to share...

Challenge #1 - Cold Feet

For a short mid-week run, I decided to run on the local bike path since it was rush hour and I wanted to avoid the highly-trafficked roads. But about 1/2 mile into my bike path journey, I encountered an obstacle. A stream of water running across the path - runoff from all the melting snow. The water was about 10 feet wide and 6 inches deep. I couldn't jump that far. There was no avoiding it; I had to run through it. The water was every bit as cold as you would expect for melting snow runoff. I muttered a choice expletive as I ran through the water. My feet were completely soaked to the bone, and every step I ran thereafter made a wet, squishy sound.

*run squish run squash run squish* Just like that.

But aside from having cold feet, it was a very nice run. And my shoes have since dried out.

Challenge #2 - Angry Pickup Truck Man

On Saturday morning, I decided to take advantage of another beautiful running day and I set out for an easy 4 or 5 miles. It was shaping up to be a really great run - there was hardly any wind, the sun was shining, and my legs felt great. But then in the last mile, a jerk in a shiny black pickup truck ruined it all. Apparently, I was a serious threat to him, running on the correct side of the road, staying as far to the side as I could, and being generally unobtrusive. I guess he was offended by my law-abiding nature. Or maybe he just didn't like my brightly-colored running shoes. For whatever reason, he felt the need to drive up behind me at top speed (in a 30mph zone, mind you) and lay on his horn as he passed me. Twice. He was clearly being aggressive, and frankly, it was making me pretty nervous. Especially since he made a point to come back and scare me a second time. So although I was feeling good enough to get in a full 5 miles, I ended up cutting my run short to 4.7 miles to escape Angry Pickup Truck Man.

I hope to never run into him again, mostly for his own sake, since I will be carrying large rocks in my pockets which I can and will use to damage his truck's shiny paint job.

Challenge #3 - Kristi

Sunday morning wasn't as nice, weather-wise, as Saturday. It was cloudy, colder, and extremely windy. Oh and there was a chance for rain. But it was tolerable enough for me to venture outside to run with my beloved Stashies, who I haven't seen in months. They were going to run one of my favorite routes, which is a little over 10 miles long.

So I started the run off slow, running well behind the rest of the group, like I always do. I was running into the wind, and I saw no need to push hard on this run since I had just done an insanely difficult 10-mile run four days earlier. I was just aiming for some easy miles.

When I reached the first water stop, about 3 miles in, the rest of the group was already there, rehydrating and chatting. I grabbed a quick cup of water and Kristi mentioned that the rest of the group was turning around soon for a shorter run, so maybe she and I should run together for the rest of the 10 miles since it would just be the two of us. That sounded like a good plan to me, and I wasn't worried since I have done many long runs with Kristi before. It would be nice to have someone to chat with along the way.

But there would be no chatting. Kristi took off at breakneck speed and I spent the remaining 7 miles gasping for air, trying to hang onto her for dear life. Oh sure, I could've just let her go ahead and run my own pace. But she was issuing an unspoken challenge. And I would not be defeated.

I wanted to say something. Something along the lines of "OMG why are you doing this to me???" But I didn't want to appear weak. So I struggled silently as we attacked the multitude of hills. During this portion of the run, she remained about 30 feet ahead of me. I wasn't going to let her out of my sight. Once we got to the Tower (our second water stop), I knew the rest of the route would be mostly flat. If she kept the same pace, I should have no problem keeping up.

She didn't keep the same pace.

Every mile that ticked by on my Garmin, my pace was getting faster and faster. I was impressed when we finished up mile 7 at a 10:24 pace. I was even more impressed when we zipped through mile 8 at a 10:06 pace. I was right on her heels and I felt strong. I mentioned this to Kristi and she told me I was doing great. Little did I know she was secretly plotting my demise.

When we finished up mile 9 at a 9:42 pace, I grew alarmed. With an evil glint in her eye, Kristi turned turned her head around and asked every-so-sweetly, "How ya feelin'?"

At this point I realized she was going to try to kill me in the final mile.

We actually had about a mile and a half left at that point. She dropped the hammer. I wanted to tell her to slow down, but the only sounds I was capable of making were "Gah! BAH! Puh!" My Garmin beeped again. Mile 10 - 9:30 pace. And Kristi just kept getting faster and faster. Yes, she was definitely trying to kill me.

We had about a half mile to go and I could no longer hang on to her. I held the fastest pace I could manage and she surged ahead, making it look all too easy. I knew I wouldn't catch her, but I sure as hell wasn't going to slow down. I always finish strong.

Final 0.6 mile - 8:48 pace.

And you know what? I didn't die! Oh, I was a little winded. Okay, a LOT winded. But overall, I felt pretty good.

And as soon as we hopped in our cars and started driving away, the rain started pouring. So Kristi's little plot to exterminate me actually ended up benefiting me because if not for her, I would have gotten soaked in the downpour.

So nice try, Kristi! *sticks tongue out at Kristi and runs away*

Peace. Love. Train.

Uncle! UNCLE!!!

2011-02-17T08:34:00.006-06:00

Remember how I told you all that Coach Brad likes to come up with crazy workouts just to see what I'll write about them? Well, he's at it again. And this time he's achieved a whole new level of crazy. And I'm crying uncle!!!

If you click on that link above, you'll see that that particular crazy workout was about 7 miles, and consisted of 6 miles of pyramid intervals and a maintenance mile (7:37 pace, baby!). It was easily one of my longest FAST workouts ever.

Until now.

Thanks to Coach Brad's poor math skills (or deceptive trickery, I can't decide which), I ended up running 10 miles of pyramid intervals last night. You read that right, folks. Ten miles. And I didn't even realize it until I was done.

I know what you're thinking.

How stupid do you have to be to run 10 miles without knowing it?

Okay, I didn't know you were thinking that! But if you must know, it was Coach Brad's fault. He LIED to me! Here's our exchange. I'll let you, the readers, decide who is at fault here:

Coach: "We're doing pyramid intervals. 1 easy, 1 hard, 2 easy, 2 hard, 3 easy, 3 hard, etc..." (the numbers refer to number of laps around the track) "You can go up to 4/4, or up to 5/5 if you want. Then do some core work with Maggie, and then reverse the pyramid."

Me: "So what's the difference in mileage if I go to 5/5 versus 4/4?"

Coach: *counting on fingers* "Well, I think the 4/4 workout is about 5 1/2 miles. And the 5/5 workout is about 7 miles or so."

Me: "Okay, I can probably manage the 7 mile one." *runs off, blissfully ignorant of the truth*

Maybe I shouldn't have so blindly accepted Coach Brad's finger math. The first half of my workout was no big deal. It was hard, yes, but I felt strong and I really enjoy doing shorter "sprintier" type workouts like this. The longest hard interval was 5 laps, which is about 3/4 mile. For me, this is a lot more fun than, say, a 3-mile time trial.

But after the mid-workout core work (which was only 1 minute total and hardly constituted a proper recovery), I was starting to feel the fatigue of this workout. I was about to set off for the down-pyramid portion of my run when I had this discussion with Coach Brad:

Coach: "So, you gonna do the 5/5 workout?"

Me: "I don't think so. I did the first 5/5 and I'm getting pretty tired so I think I'm just going to skip the second 5/5 and go right into 4/4 this time."

Coach: "Why? You did one 5/5, why not do another?"

Me: "Because it adds like another mile! I'll be here all night!"

Coach: "So? Then I'll be here all night too. I don't care. You're a stud. You can do it." (Yes, he called me a stud. I'm not sure if this is a compliment or an insult.)

Me: *sighing deeply* "Fine. Fine, I'll do it."

And off I went, thinking I was going to be running about "7 miles or so". I knew I could handle that - I've done a few 7-ish mile workouts in FAST before.

As the laps ticked away, I came to the realization that most of the other FASTies had long since left the track. I was tracking my lap count in order to know when to run hard laps and when to run easy laps, but I wasn't really paying that close attention to the total number of laps I had run. I was just... running. But when my lap count hit 60 laps, something clicked in my brain. I knew from the many long runs I have done on that track that 30 laps was 4 miles. Which meant 60 laps was 8 miles. I had hit 8 miles and I was nowhere close to being finished with my pyramids. I became mildly alarmed.

Eventually, it was just me and fellow FASTie, Brian, out on the track. Brian, who is a much faster runner than I am, zipped past me while asking "Why are we the only two people left out here???" I was wondering the same thing.

As it turns out, we were the only two people who tackled the complete 5/5 pyramid. We were either very brave, or very foolish. Probably some combination of the two. When I finally finished my workout (and cooldown), I got out my iPhone calculator and did the math for myself. I had run 75 laps.

(1/7.5) x 75 = 10 (duh)

Of course, after doing that math I realized I didn't need a calculator to figure that out. But my brain was pretty fried from having just run 10 miles, so cut me some slack, okay? We all know I don't do math while in an oxygen-deprived state.

For the record, I have never in my life done a mid-week run longer than about 7 miles. So to do a 10 mile very tough run on a Wednesday night was achieving a whole new level of running for me. I don't know if I'm ready to make the 10-miler a regular mid-week thing. But at least now I know I'm capable of going longer distances between weekend long runs.

I suspect this was Brad's intent when he told us that bald-faced lie about the workout being "7 miles or so". When I called him out on his "mistake", he admitted that he hadn't included the warm-up and cool-down in his calculation (although he failed to mention that to us beforehand). But even so, the workout itself was 8 miles, not 7. Sneaky, Brad. Very sneaky.

There's a lesson in this whole story: Never trust your coach's math. Of course, this lesson doesn't apply to the people I coach, so those of you reading this can relax. I'm not going to lie to you about your distances.

And how did I actually do on my crazy pyramid run last night? Not too shabby. I finished in 1:37:40, which is an average pace of 9:45. That's a lot faster than any other 10 mile run I've ever done. Of course, it wasn't a continuous run, so it hardly counts as a PR. But I'm still happy with it. And my final interval was a single lap at a 6:52 pace. Zoom zoom!

(click to see it bigger!)

And how about the aftermath of this monster workout? I have to admit, I'm feeling it today. Although it's not nearly as bad as I expected (maybe it's going to get worse). I'm a little stiff, and the hamstrings and calves are a bit sore. But all things considered, I feel pretty good, and I'm planning to tackle a short, easy run this evening to get things loosened up a bit.

Coach Brad says he wants to come up with some "doozie" workouts to close out the Winter FAST season. I'm not sure how he can possibly out-doozie the 10-mile pyramid workout. And honestly, I fear for my life. So Coach Brad (and Coach Maggie too, because I know she likes to plot evil things as well), please, for the love of Pete, show us some mercy!!!

Peace. Love. Train. UNCLE!!!

Return to the Great Outdoors - Frosty 5 Mile

2011-02-14T12:56:00.007-06:00

I don't know about you all, but I am getting mighty tired of this long, cold, snowy, grey winter. I have run more indoor miles this winter than any human being should ever have to run: over 300 indoor miles between Thanksgiving and now, if you must know. And so when the weather forecast called for temperatures in the low-mid 40's this past weekend, I had to jump on it.

Sure, I could've gone for an easy long run around Peoria Heights. But I craved something a little grander for this first decent running day of 2011. And what could be grander than a road race?

Whenever I feel like running a last-minute race, I can always count on fellow FASTie Kristi to join me. So when I learned about the Frosty 5 Mile race in Channahon, I sent Kristi a message the night before and asked if she might be interested. Not surprisingly, she was immediately on board. This race had a lot going for it: a 1 pm start time (ahhh, the joy of sleeping in on a Sunday!), a Frosty 5 Mile stocking cap for all entrants (an nice departure from the usual t-shirt), and post-race pizza and hot chocolate. Add to that the predicted sunny and nice weather, and it was a no-brainer.

I wanted to get in 10 miles of running on Sunday, so I hit the treadmill in the morning to get 5 miles out of the way. Then Kristi and I left for Channahon (about a 2-hour drive). I could tell while driving that it was pretty windy out. I hoped it wouldn't be too big of a factor in the race. Neither of us were planning to race this event all-out, but rather to make it more of a tempo-effort workout.

We arrived at Pioneer Path School to register about an hour before race start. Fortunately, we were able to mill around in the the school gym and stay warm before the race. Unfortunately, I got zero cell phone reception inside this building (apparently it was made of lead), so I couldn't even do any productive texting or Facebooking to pass the time. But there were a lot of interesting people to observe (Kristi can attest to that). Before we knew it, it was time to head out to the starting line.

My goal for the run was to maintain about a 9:30 pace. And then we walked outside to the race start and felt how windy it was. Fortunately, I wasn't married to this pace. All I wanted was a good workout.

And that's exactly what I got. When the race started (which was ceremoniously marked by Ronald McDonald yelling "START!" - I kid you not), I started off slow. I wanted to get warmed up over the first 1/2 mile or so. The course seemed flat, and the wind was not a factor at this point. I gradually accelerated into a comfortable pace of about 9:40. I only know this in hindsight, as I did not look at my Garmin during the race to see what my pace was. I was only running by feel.

The course was more-or-less and out-and-back course. There were a few extra turns at the beginning and the finish was one block over from the start, but for the most part, it was out-and-back. The first part of the course (and consequently, the last part) was flat. But the middle 3 miles were on a rather hilly stretch of road that really put my flat-lander legs to the test. I'm sure it wasn't actually all that hilly, but seeing as I have not run an actual hill in over 3 months, some of these hills felt rather mountainous. They didn't really slow me down much, but I definitely felt my breathing become more labored on the uphills. There were also a few stretches of road with an intense and nasty headwind. I was thankful that the entire race was not like that.

The sunshine was warmer than I expected, even with the wind, and I actually took my outer layer off before I got to Mile 2. I was happy to see that I was passing a lot of people in the last 3 miles. I've still got it, I thought to myself. I wasn't sure what, exactly, I had, but I knew I still had it.

When I hit the 4-mile mark, I decided to kick it up a notch, just for fun. I passed a lot more people in this mile. I rounded the final turn and made a dash for the finish line, finishing in 47:16. That's an average pace of 9:28, which is exactly where I hoped to be. One of the wonderful finish line volunteers handed me a pretty red carnation (that was a very nice touch!), and Kristi and I made our way to the post-race feast because we were both starving.

When you're really hungry, anything tastes good. And we demonstrated this concept as we gobbled up the post-race Little Caesar's pizza like it was the best thing we'd ever eaten. The hot chocolate was also delicious, and I think that, unlike the pizza, it may have actually been delicious, rather than a figment of our hungry imaginations.

So to sum up, this was a fun little race, well-organized and with good post-race refreshments. Most importantly, it was great to run outside and soak up some Vitamin D for a change. Oh, and since I had never run a 5-mile race before, it was also an instant PR. Double bonus!

Peace. Love. Train.

Yes, Coach Brad, I AM going to cry!

2011-02-10T07:49:00.006-06:00

In my five short years as a runner, I've had some very emotional running experiences. There was the time I finished my first 5k, and the time I finished my first half-marathon, and probably the most emotional one - the time I finished my first marathon. Yes, the firsts are always emotional. But so too are setting new PR's and meeting huge goals. There was the time I achieved (rather unexpectedly, I might add) my super-stretch marathon goal at the Flying Pig - I cried wee wee wee all the way to the finish line. And I got a little misty-eyed at the Icebreaker when I finally broke 5 hours.

But never before have I had an emotional training run.

Until now.

One of the things I love most about FAST is the element of surprise. We never know what the workout is going to be until we get there. So there isn't any chance for us to get anxious or nervous or calculate target splits or anything like that. The coaches tell us what to do and then we have to go right out and do it. And last night they gave us a doozy of a workout that I am especially glad we didn't know about in advance.

*cue dramatic music* The three-mile time trial.

It's not the first time we've done this workout. You may recall that this was actually the very first workout of this Winter FAST season. And you may also recall that I ran that time trial in 25:37. Not bad. Not a record by any means, but not terrible. That time trial allowed the coaches to establish a baseline for each FASTie. So it's not surprising that they would have us do it again, near the end of the winter season, in order to measure improvements.

Let's take a moment to review terminology, shall we? The time trial is basically a race (against yourself). An as-fast-as-you-can-go, balls-to-the-wall, run-til-you-puke timed distance. No two ways about it - it is painful. If I had known about it in advance, I may have been tempted to skip it.

But I was not forewarned. So I had no choice but to run it.

I figured since I still only a couple weeks off my marathon, and I haven't done any sort of speedwork in 4 weeks, and I'm still getting back up to my normal weekly mileage, that there was no way I would improve over my baseline time from December. I decided I'd just run the best I could and try not to be disappointed if my time was significantly slower.

And so after a 1 mile warm-up, I began my 3 mile journey. I didn't even bother to reset my Garmin after my warm-up, because I just didn't think it was that important - I wasn't going to be tracking my time during the run, and it's too complicated to figure out how lap splits correlate to pace anyway. The track is 7 1/3 laps per mile - that kind of math is way too advanced for an oxygen-starved brain, and I have demonstrated many times in the past that I am not good at math while running. Fellow FASTie, Kristi, can attest to this.

And so I simply ran. And every lap, I clicked my lap button - I knew I needed to get through 22 laps to make exactly 3 miles. But I only looked down at my Garmin occasionally to check my lap count. I had no idea what kind of lap splits I was running, or what my time was. It got really intense really fast, but I expected that. I tried not to back down in my effort.

Before I knew it, I was coming into the last lap. I dropped the hammer and gave it everything I had left (which wasn't much). Fortunately for everyone involved, I didn't puke. They really do frown upon people puking on the indoor track.

After I caught my breath, I looked at my Garmin time. 35:03. I thought my warm-up time had been 11:33 (but I wasn't positive), so I just needed to do some quick math to figure out my three-mile time. At first glance, it looked like maybe I did improve over my December time, but my brain was still oxygen-deprived and I needed to do the math on paper.

35:03
-11:33
23:30

Huh. That didn't seem right. I rubbed my eyes and put pencil to paper again and came up with the same result. I still didn't believe it. I found Coach Brad and showed him my math and asked him to please check my work because I didn't trust it. He verified my math was correct.

"But that's a 7:50 pace!!!!", I yelled, incredulous.

"So? Why do you seem so surprised?" he asked.

I just stared back at him, mouth agape, still not believing my time.

"Hey Maggie, I think she's gonna cry!" he joked. We all got a laugh out of that, but I really did feel emotional about the whole thing. I had never run at a sub-8:00 pace for more than a mile. To run three miles at a sub-8:00 pace was a huge accomplishment for me.

Still, I doubted myself. I thought "Well, maybe I accidentally ran 1 lap short. Or maybe I didn't remember my warm-up time correctly." I was anxious to get home and analyze my Garmin data so I could uncover the truth!

Well, as it turns out, the truth is I didn't run a 7:50 pace for three miles. I ran a 7:46 pace. *jaw drop* *faint*

Yep, my time trial time was actually 23:19, not 23:30. I ran the numbers over and over again in Excel and got the same result each time. I ran the correct number of laps, and that was really how fast I ran them. And that is more than a two minute improvement over my December time trial.

Not only that, I ran negative splits. My mile splits were 7:49, 7:47 and 7:42. And my final lap was my fastest, at a blazing (for me) 7:20 pace. It truly boggles my mind.

And as if we needed further proof of how hard I was actually working, my heart rate graph is really a sight to behold.

The middle part is the time trial. The rest is warm-up and cooldown.

My actual maximum heart rate is 194. It takes a lot for me to actually hit it. Even in most races, I rarely get that high. But I hit it last night. And then I died.

But I got better!

And as you all know, there's really only one way to celebrate a victory like this: with cookies. And so I enjoyed some very tasty home-baked chocolate chip cookies - one for every mile I ran under 8:00.

*munch munch munch... burp*

Peace. Love. Train.

So, what's next?

2011-02-06T11:50:00.005-06:00

Alright, so I achieved my sub-5-hour marathon goal, I'm pretty much recovered from the marathon, and more importantly, from the Post-Marathon Syndrome. I had a wonderful 10 mile run this morning, even though my training plan only called for 8 miles (shhhh, don't tell my coaches!), so I think I'm ready to get back to my regular running routine.

So now what? *scratching head*

That is an excellent question, my friends. An excellent question indeed.

Well, in a nutshell, I figured I would just keep on running, maybe run some races, maybe run some new PR's, and pretty much try to have a good time doing it. But, and I know this will come as a shock to many of you, I am not doing anymore marathons in 2011. *gasp* I know, I know. Now, I didn't say I wasn't doing anymore marathons EVER. Just not this year. I want to focus my efforts on the shorter distances (half-marathon and shorter) and work on improving my speed, because I do think I have a little more speed in me. Then next year I will revisit the marathon. I have run 3 marathons (and over a dozen other shorter races) in the last 9 months and I think the ol' legs need a little break from the 20+ mile runs.

First up on the agenda are some fun races. I'm not going to worry about my time or my pace. I'm just going to run and have fun. First, there will be the triple-race weekend of the Flying Pig on April 30 - May 1. I will be running the 5k, 10k, and half-marathon events with some good friends. We are going to take our time, enjoy the awesome spectators of Cincinnati, maybe dance with Elvis, take some pictures at the top of the Big Hill (aka, Eden Park), eat a lot of bananas, and have a generally good time. Then, the following weekend (May 7), I will be heading to Indianapolis to run the Festival 500 Mini-Marathon. This race, which is the largest half-marathon in the country, has already been sold out for over a month. But I planned ahead and got spots for myself and my hubby. Several of our FAST friends will also be joining us at that event.

The Mini-Marathon allows runners to apply for entry into seeded start corrals if they meet certain requirements (based on performance in past races). Well, for the first time ever in any race, I actually qualified for a Preferred corral. I am not sure whether it's because I'm fast, or because their standards are pretty low (I would guess the latter), but after spending 45 minutes waiting to get to the starting line of this race from Corral S two years ago, I ain't complaining. Maybe this year I'll only have to wait 20 minutes to get to the start once the gun fires.

I think I will find other fun races to run in the spring months too. Last year's Lincoln Memorial Half-Marathon was really scenic and I loved the giant penny medal - I may run that one again. And I'm sure I'll find some local 5k's to run for speedwork.

But what about racing races? Yes, I plan to do that too. But not until summertime. I will race my usual summertime event - the Steamboat Classic 4-Mile - with a goal to run it under 35:00. God willing, it will be my 6th consecutive Steamboat race. And my main event for the year (besides last month's Icebreaker Marathon, that is) will be the Fox Valley Half-Marathon. I just signed up for this fabulous-sounding event last week and am planning to make this my A-race for the half-marathon distance. I feel fairly confident that I can run it under 2:10. But depending on how my training goes, I may attempt a more challenging goal. Time will tell.

So there you have it - that's what's next for this little piggy. No more marathons in 2011. And that's final. So please, I beg you, do not forward me links to really awesome-sounding marathons, because I don't need the temptation. M'kay?

Peace. Love. Train.

PMS (Post-Marathon Syndrome)

2011-01-26T08:13:00.005-06:00

People don't like to talk about PMS - it's one of those taboo subjects that we avoid in polite conversation. But I think it's time we really take an in-depth look at this debilitating condition, as it affects so many runners like me.

Signs and Symptoms

In the first 12 to 16 hours following a marathon, symptoms are generally mild to moderate and may include fatigue, difficulty walking, and stiffness and soreness of the lower extremities. In cases involving a personal record (PR), there may also be severe smiling and excessive elation during this period, which may lessen the perceived severity of the other symptoms. From 16 to 72 hours after a marathon, symptoms often worsen and may include the following:

Severe muscle stiffness and soreness
Swollen pride
Inability to descend stairs
Inability to sit down without upper body assistance
Excessive medal-wearing
Excessive hunger
Strong urge to either (a) sign up for another marathon right away or (b) never run marathons ever again; occasionally the patient may fluctuate radically between the two urges.

Causes

Post-Marathon Syndrome is caused exclusively by running marathons. There are no other known causes.

Diagnosis

If PMS is suspected based on a thorough physical examination, further testing is required to confirm the diagnosis. The most reliable test is the MRR Scan (Marathon Race Results Scan). A qualified medical professional should review the scan to determine if the patient's name is on the results list. If the patient's name does appear, the diagnosis is confirmed.

Prevention

Preventing PMS involves abstaining from marathons completely. While simple in theory, this can be exceptionally difficult for many marathoners as they may have a serious addiction to marathons and shiny medals.

Treatment

A patient suffering from PMS will recover more quickly if treated early. Early treatment options include stretching, massage, ice baths, and drinking beer. In some cases, consumption of chocolate chip cookies has also been shown to aid recovery. If PMS is not diagnosed until 16 hours or later following a marathon event, symptoms will be more difficult to treat. The most successful treatments at this stage of the illness are lying in a supine position on a sofa or bed, researching potential future marathons, the use of NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications), and drinking more beer. Additionally, purchasing professional marathon photos has also been shown to be helpful in many cases, except those in which the patient does not photograph well. In no case should the patient ever be separated from their medal. To do so could result in injury to the medical professional.

Prognosis

Most cases of PMS can be cleared in less than one week with proper treatment. More aggressive cases, usually brought on by running multiple marathons in rapid succession or by running ultra-marathons, may require a slightly longer recovery time. Mortality is low. PMS is often a recurring condition and it is likely that patients diagnosed with the condition will suffer from it multiple times in their lives. This chronic condition is known as Marathonitis. There is no known cure, but standard PMS treatments will be useful in managing flare-ups.

I hope you have found this educational and useful. Awareness is the key to helping those suffering from PMS. If someone you know is exhibiting symptoms of PMS, the best thing you can do is ask to see their medal and act really impressed. Remember, marathoners are people too.

Peace. Love. Train.

The Icebreaker Indoor Marathon: how I told Mother Nature to shove it!

2011-01-24T08:15:00.024-06:00

Let us count the many ways that Mother Nature shows her lack of affection for me, shall we?

For my first marathon, Disney World 2007, she called in near-record high temperatures and humidity (in January, for Pete's sake!) and it was an epic battle just to not get picked up by the sag-wagon (finish time 6:23).

For my second marathon, Flying Pig 2010, I walked to the race start in a torrential thunderstorm and then ran the next 5 hours in the pouring rain. At least I had a ton of fun and ran a fabulous PR (5:15).

For my third marathon, Chicago 2010, the city saw record-high temperatures and the course was marked by the Red Flags of Death, indicating that runners should slow down and seek medical attention if they felt dizzy, faint or nauseous. I felt ALL of those things, but I did not want a DNF next to my name, so I pressed on as best I could, finishing with a bittersweet PR of 5:08. Bitter because I really wanted to run sub-5:00. Sweet because it was still a PR.

So when I found out about the Icebreaker Indoor Marathon, with it's temperature-controlled conditions, I thought "What better way to stick it to Mother Nature?" My friend and fellow FASTie, Kristi, agreed with me, and we both signed up.

You may think that running around in circles for several hours would be incredibly boring. Well, you'd be wrong. I now present my official Icebreaker Indoor Marathon weekend report. Grab a drink, put your feet up and enjoy the (long) ride.

Indoor 5k, Friday Jan 21

The Icebreaker weekend kicked off on Friday night with the inaugural 5k event. Kristi and I arrived early at the Pettit National Ice Center, which is an indescribably enormous facility, to pick up our race packets. To give you an idea of just how big this place is: the running track is around the outside of the speedskating rink. Inside the speedskating rink are two ice hockey arenas. TWO! Here, I demonstrate my excellent Photoshop skills with a composite panoramic image of the facility (click to see it larger):

The Pettit National Ice Center

Impressive, no? (The facility, I mean, not my excellent Photoshop skills. Although my skills are a force to be reckoned with. Whatever that means.) Between the two red barriers in the foreground of the photo is where the running track lies.

One of the hazards of running/walking around an ice arena is the potential vehicular traffic... in the form of Zamboni. So they have posted this helpful sign to remind everyone of the possible danger. Because apparently Zamboni are faster than they look. I wonder if there's a sign posted for the Zamboni operators that says "Watch for runners crossing".

Zamboni crossing

After picking up our race packets, Kristi and I ran a few warm-up laps around the track. I use the term "warm-up" loosely here, as I was freezing the whole time. The temperature inside the facility is supposed to be a constant 55º, according to the facility website. I think the facility website lies like a dog. To me, it felt more like 45 or 50º. But hey, what do I know?

Race swag - very cute long-sleeved shirt, a nylon backpack, water bottle, veggie seeds, and vitamin chews!

The 5k race was limited to 50 entrants, about 40 of whom showed on race day. We weren't planning to race this event, so we positioned ourselves near the middle-to-back of the pack. The race started a few minutes late, as they worked out some timing system kinks. Soon enough, though, they fired the starting gun and we were off.

I never got warm the entire race. I ran at a pace that was probably close to tempo pace and never even broke a sweat. There was definitely something to this racing-in-an-ice-arena thing. During the race, the announcer would call out the names of people who had 1 or 2 laps to go, which was helpful for those not keeping track (like me). There were also large monitors near the finish area that showed each runner's lap count. If you were still unsure of your lap count, you could ask a race official and they would find out and tell you on your next lap around.

I did encounter one minor annoyance during the 5k, which actually followed me into the marathon as well: I acquired a shadow. A heavy-breathing, chatty shadow. He was just lucky I wasn't racing that 5k. I'm not sure I could've tolerated that at all if I was trying to be "in the zone". I'm sure he was a very nice fellow, but I just really don't like to shoot the breeze with strangers while I'm running a race, even if I'm not running hard. And I absolutely cannot stand having heavy breathers right next to me. I wasn't sure if I should speed up and try to lose him (but risk pushing too hard right before the marathon), or slow down and hope he passed me. I opted to just tough it out. As he chatted (and I pretended to listen), I picked up on a very important tidbit... He said he was running all three races. I hoped to heaven that he wasn't going to shadow me for the marathon, because there was no way I was going to be able to deal with the chattiness and loud breathing for 26 miles. On the last lap of the 5k, he finally broke away from me and I did not try to catch him (imagine that!). I enjoyed the solitude of my final lap.

Me and my shadow, aka ShadowMan.
(Photo by Bill Flaws of Running in the USA)

When we finished up, we were pleasantly surprised to find out that Kristi placed first in her age group. We made our way to the runners' food room where we had the privilege of meeting and chatting with super-awesome race director, Chris Ponteri, and enjoying some home-made sugar cookies and other tasty treats. Kristi even got a shiny medal for her accomplishment. I placed second in my age group, but there were no medals for second place, because if that were the case, everyone would get a medal.

Kristi busting out an award-winning 5k without hardly trying!
(Photo by Bill Flaws of Running in the USA)

Kristi and I were both very thankful that we had opted to run the 5k, because we were able to get a feel for the track and the conditions inside the facility. We both agreed that had we not checked out the facility before the marathon, we both would've shown up way under-dressed. It was definitely quite a bit chillier than we expected.

The track itself is 443 meters long (slightly longer than 1/4 mile) and two lanes wide. It is a thin layer of rubber over hard concrete, and is definitely an unforgiving surface to run on. However, I think it's much more forgiving than the tiny tracks we have been training on, simply because the turns are fewer and larger. The turns are so gentle, in fact, that I didn't really "feel" them the same way I feel turns on smaller tracks.

Indoor Half-Marathon, Saturday Jan 22

Saturday's events included two half-marathons and a marathon relay. Some friends of mine, who I met from the Runner's World Challenge for the Flying Pig 2010, were running the later half-marathon. So Kristi and I went to watch that event unfold. When we arrived at the Pettit Center, the race was already in full-swing. Tony and Pam had about 6 laps of a total 48 already done. They both looked strong through the whole event.

Go Tony! And watch out, ShadowMan is right behind you!
(Photo by Bill Flaws of Running in the USA)

Tony was hoping to break 2 hours, and he was right on target to do it. But... the announcer butchered his last name so badly at the end of the race, that he didn't realize he had two laps to go, not one. So he stopped a full lap short without realizing it! He had even gone so far as to remove his timing chip and get his medal, when the announcer came back on the loudspeaker to say he had one lap to go still. Tony grabbed his timing chip back out of the box, gave his medal back, and ran around the track one more time at warp speed, finishing less than two minutes OVER 2 hours. So close! We all agree that it was a sub-2-hour race in spirit. If not for the announcing snafu, it's quite possible he would've met his goal.

And regardless of the lap count conundrum, Tony and Pam both achieved half-marathon PR's. It was very cool to watch them both do that.

Pre-Marathon Carb Loading

No marathon race report would be complete without a thorough discussion of fueling strategy. My fueling strategy for pre-race carb-loading was simple: it better be delicious. And delicious it was! I did a bunch of research on Yelp, looking for the perfect pasta place and decided on Il Mito Trattoria e Enoteca, because of it's excellent reviews and mouthwatering menu. I made reservations for our group (me, Kristi, Kristi's husband Steve, Tony and Pam), and when we arrived at the restaurant I was very glad I had made reservations. It was packed already.

The restaurant's head chef, Chef Feker, also runs a cooking school which is attached to the restaurant. We had the distinct privilege of being seated in the cooking school side of the building. It was a privilege because while we were eating, Chef Feker was actually teaching a cooking class and it was incredibly fascinating. It also made me hungrier, despite the fact that I was eating.

I regret to inform you all that I was so delirious with hunger that evening, that I forgot to take a picture of my entree. *collective gasp from readers* I know, I know. This is unprecedented. I always take pictures of VIF (very important food)! I ordered the Mezzaluna di Zucca (pumpkin ravioli) and it was outstanding. I don't think a picture could've done it justice anyway. The only way for you all to truly appreciate it is to go to Milwaukee and try it for yourselves. Go. Now. No, wait! Finish reading this blog post and then go.

Indoor Marathon, Sunday Jan 23

Ah, yes, the pièce de résistance. The marathon itself was truly the highlight of the weekend events. I was worried I wouldn't sleep well the night before the marathon because there was, and I swear I'm not making this up, a cheerleading convention going on in my hotel and the entire hotel had been taken over by loud, giggly, teenage girls. But, for whatever reason, they were pretty quiet on Saturday night, so I got some good sleep. I woke up at 5:45 and headed down to the breakfast buffet. I got there just in the nick of time, because 5 minutes after I sat down with my oatmeal and cup of tea, a hoard of hungry cheerleaders showed up and raided the buffet, stripping it of every last item of food. Okay, I may be exaggerating slightly. But only slightly!

Kristi and I left the hotel at 7am, knowing that the marathon started at 8, and it was about a 15 minute drive to get there. That would give us plenty of time to get our timing chips, figure out the aid station logistics, and take a few deep breaths before embarking on our long-yet-stationary journey.

The aid station setup was simple enough. Each runner was to supply their own bottles of *insert fluid of choice here* and fuel of choice (gels, shot blocks, beans, etc), and those items were to be marked with the runner's bib number and placed in a designated location on the aid station tables. When a runner wanted water, Gatorade or fuel, they need only tell one of the aid station volunteers what they wanted and their bib number, and the volunteer would have it ready for them to grab on the next lap. I had one bottle of plain water (which they refilled as needed), and 4 bags of Sport Beans. My plan was to take water every 8 laps from the start, and to take beans every 8 laps starting at lap 16. This plan worked out wonderfully, because I knew that every 8 laps, I would get a bit of a break (because I can't run and eat beans at the same time - I have to walk, lest I choke to death). It was only a short walk to eat those beans (less than 1/4 lap), but it was enough that it was something I really looked forward to in those later miles.

As the race start neared, Kristi and I lined up and noticed far too many people lining up behind us. Perhaps it was our FAST shirts making us appear speedier than we really were?

Looking speedy in red FAST shirts!

We tried to assure everyone in the vicinity that we weren't actually fast, but rather, were members of a running team called FAST. They looked unconvinced. Well, Kristi is fast, but since she is recovering from a stress fracture, she wasn't planning on running a marathon PR in this particular race. I, on the other hand, am never fast, and I'm not recovering from anything. I'm just naturally moderately-paced. Call it a gift. I, however, was secretly hoping to PR in this race. It wasn't my ultimate goal, and I knew I wouldn't be overly disappointed if I didn't PR (unlike Chicago, where I was bummed for a week afterward), but a PR would be icing on the proverbial cake. I felt well-trained for it. Time would tell whether or not all that hard training would come through for me.

My primary goal was to have fun. I, of course, use the term "fun" loosely, because running 26.2 miles always starts to lose it's innate fun-ness after about Mile 16-18. After that, the mental part of marathon running kicks in and it becomes a battle to just keep moving forward. But I digress....

The race started in the same way as the 5k - with a countdown and a gunshot. There were a lot more runners in this race than the 5k (about 105 in total), so the track was a bit more crowded, but for me, it was never problematic because I was rarely passing anyone during the first half of the race. The rule, which was repeated many times over by the announcer, was that you should stay in the outside lane and only use the inside lane for passing. Most runners did a good job of sticking to this rule, so the flow seemed pretty unrestricted from my vantage point. I suspect it is a little hairier for the really fast runners, who are constantly passing people, and trying to pass people who are passing people.

Headphones and MP3 players were strictly prohibited in all of the weekend's events. Anyone caught using such a device was to be tarred and feathered according to the unofficial rules. Instead, they played music over the PA system, and all of the songs were chosen by the runners. One of the race registration questions was to suggest three favorite running songs. And the race organizers took all these favorite running songs and compiled them into one big scary playlist, which, despite having a few awful songs on it, provided great entertainment. It's fascinating to hear the sorts of songs that get other runners pumped up. Hall and Oates? Really???

Also during the race, the announcer would read off interesting facts about each runner. This was also a question from our race registration forms. My interesting fact was that I write a super-awesome blog (as you all already know). The announcer pronounced it "sweet like a pig", so I'm not sure I'll be getting any extra page hits as a result of my shameless advertising, but hey, I tried. (As a side note, the announcer also pronounced flag as "flayg" and bag as "bayg". Wisconsinites are strange.)

The race organizers also made back bibs available to the runners. These were blank bibs that the runners could write whatever they wanted on, such as their name, interesting facts about themselves, etc. This allowed the runners to get to know each other as they passed each other on the track. It was interesting to meet people who had, for example, been smoke-free for 22 years, or were 4-year brain cancer survivors, or had run 30 marathons in 30 states. In what other race can you get to know your fellow runners like that? By Mile 16, I was on a first-name basis with several other runners (Lori, Dick, Heather, Bob - way to go!).

And you know what else was really awesome? The spectators. There weren't a lot of them, but the ones who were there were nonstop enthusiastic. They watched the same people run around in circles for over 95 laps, but their excitement never waned. I high-fived the same group of children at least 70 times. And a group of teenage girls cheered for me by name at least 50 times. "Yeah Emily, you're looking great!" Every lap. Another group of girls had brought a dry erase board with them, and they changed their cheering sign every few laps. They were there to cheer for their brother, mostly, but their signs were very entertaining to read. "#14 is single, ladies!" Then there was the dancing lady, who was in the stands getting funky to every song that came on the PA system. She probably burned as many calories dancing as we burned running. She cheered for me and Kristi a lot - "Yeah FAST girls! Lookin' good!" Why yes, we were lookin' good.

Lookin' good in the marathon. Oh and lookie, it's ShadowMan again - and this time he has a friend!
(Photo by Bill Flaws of Running in the USA)

Yes, ShadowMan found me in the marathon and tried his darndest to hang on to me. But when I took my sport bean break at Lap 16 and started to walk, he got all whiny and said "You can't do that! You're our pacer!" Apparently both of those guys behind me were using me as a pacer. Funny, I don't remember signing up for that job. I was happy to let them pass me. It's hard enough work just pacing myself - I don't want to worry about anyone else's pace. He actually caught up to me at a couple other points in the race (I could hear him breathing loudly behind me), but he didn't stick around for long, which was a relief.

Between the amazing facility, the constant course entertainment, the enthusiastic spectators and the friendly and encouraging runners, it was already shaping up to be an incredible marathon experience. But when you add the outstanding volunteers to the mix, you get a truly world-class event. The volunteers kept all of us runners running. Without them, I don't think most of us would have met our goals. I can't imagine what a difficult job it is to man the aid station, and to have dozens of runners shouting at you at once, asking for all sorts of different things. But the volunteers never missed a beat. When I asked for water, they had my water ready on the next lap. When I asked for beans, they had my beans ready.

Aid station volunteers working hard (and the one in the brown hoodie is Tony!)
(Photo by Bill Flaws of Running in the USA)

Toward the end of my race, when there weren't very many runners left on the track and I'm sure I was looking pretty drained, the volunteers cheered as loud as the other spectators.

I would say I felt pretty darn good for the first 16 miles. After that, I started feeling the fatigue, both mental and physical, of running around in circles on a hard concrete surface. There was also a sort of mental fatigue in hearing the names of runners who had already finished being called out. I wished I could be finished! Incidentally, I had the unique experience of being less than 2 yards behind the winner of the marathon as he crossed the finish line. That's certainly never happened to me in any other race before!

My legs were getting tired and my feet were starting to hurt as the miles ticked on. But I was also vaguely aware that my pace was picking up a bit. I logged my lap splits with my Garmin, but didn't check my split times on every lap. I just knew that at the beginning of the race, my laps were about 3:05-3:07 per lap, and toward the end, they were more like 2:59-3:02. That's excluding my fueling laps, which took more like 3:20 due to my brief walk break.

As the miles ticked away, I began a mental lap countdown. Lap 80? Just 16 more laps to go. Lap 86, just 10 more. I can do 10 more laps. Lap 90, I'm in the home stretch. There were some new spectators at this point, and their enthusiasm really got my through those last grueling laps. They high-fived me every time, even when I barely had the energy to high-five. When the announcer finally called out "Emily Boggs, you have just one lap to go!" I could hardly believe it. 95 laps ago, the end seemed so far away even though it was always within sight. Now, here I was, cruising to a victory. Kristi had finished her marathon about 3 laps ahead of me, and at this point she was on the sidelines cheering for me. "You've got this, Emily!" Oh yes, I had it. I gave as much of a final kick as I could (which wasn't much - I was pretty fried) and as I crossed the finish, I saw 4:53 on the clock.

I had done it. I had finally broken 5 hours. Not only that, but I PR'd by 15 minutes. Officially, my time was 4:53:38. Me = pleased as punch. I mean, like, toothy-grin, giddy-as-a-schoolboy, can't-shut-up happy.

Pace graph. Notice the gradual overall increase - negative splits are how I roll.

I collected my medal, which the awesome volunteer actually placed around my neck (rather than handing it to me and brushing me out of the way like in so many other races), and I hobbled very slowly over to catch up with Kristi and Steve. Turns out, she was hobbling very slowly too so she was fairly easy to catch. We both looked like... well... like we had just run a marathon! But she was also pleased as punch for having survived it after so recently suffering a stress fracture.

Exhausted but victorious!

We made our way (gingerly) to the runners' food room and enjoyed some of the many treats - bananas, chocolate milk, cookies, bread, muffins, donuts... you name it, they had it. (Except, regrettably, beer) Unfortunately, we couldn't stick around long because our hotel checkout time was 2pm and it was already well after 1 o'clock. So we thanked the race director and any of the other volunteers we happened to see on our way out, and bid a very fond adieu to the Pettit Center.

The silver medal was awarded to all marathon finishers.

Will we run that marathon again? Yes, and no. Kristi and I have already decided that next year we will be back for the Icebreaker, but we will run the marathon relay instead of the full marathon. So... we need two more relay runners for our team. Who's in?!

Peace. Love. Train.

How solving one dilemma creates a whole new dilemma

2011-01-21T09:22:00.005-06:00

You all will be happy to know that after my minor panic attack brought on by lack of preparation for my upcoming marathon, that I did solve the most serious dilemma: finding a suitable pre-marathon carb-loading establishment. After much grueling in-depth research, I finally decided on Il Mito Trattoria and Enoteca after reading many positive reviews, and glancing through their mouth-watering menu.

But I am now faced with a new dilemma...

What should I order??? *panics*

I mean, just listen to these delectable choices:

Capelli d’Angelo Primavera
Angel hair pasta tossed with an ingredient-based sauce of artichoke, asparagus, peas, tomatoes and Growing Power basil. Complemented with arugula, spinach, e.v.o.o and sliced garlic. This is all about the cuisine of an Enoteca: no camouflaging here, I use nature and the highest quality ingredients as my guide, with the help of my friend Will Allen from Growing Power. WOW! Try my organic sauvignon Blanc with this one.

Mezzaluna di Zucca
Half-Moon pumpkin Raviolis complemented by a creamy sage sauce. Topped with toasted walnuts, Imported Parmesan cheese, and extra virgin olive oil.

Tortelloni
Homemade tortelloni stuffed with roasted shiitake, crimini, porcini mushrooms and whipped ricotta. Served in a creamy mushroom sauce and topped with grated Parmesan and extra virgin olive oil.

Pizza Foresti
Shiitake, crimini and portobello mushrooms, caramelized onions, Asiago cheese and ripe tomatoes.

Pizza Napolitana
Fresh mozzarella, grilled roma tomatoes, fresh basil, cracked pepper and basil pesto.

Insalata di Mozzarella Genovese
Fresh mozzarella, oven-roasted roma tomatoes, grilled eggplant, basil pesto, caramelized onion, balsamic. reduction and extra virgin olive oil atop mixed greens.

Insalata di Funghi

A Piedmonte specialty of three different mushrooms — crimini, white and porcini — plus Chef Feker’s addition of shiitake mushrooms, roasted to perfection and tossed with shaved Parmesan cheese, fresh thyme and lemon zest. Served atop mesclun and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and fresh squeezed lemon juice.

*drools uncontrollably*

So, as you can see, I need your help! The whole menu is drool-worthy. What should I order?! And because I know how you all are, I will state right now that "Everything!" is not a valid option. Although I could order a salad and a pasta dish, or a salad and a pizza... theoretically. So, please limit your recommendations to no more than two items. I need your votes by 6pm Saturday night.

Ready? GO!

Peace. Love. Train.

Too Busy for Madness? Never!

2011-01-18T10:29:00.005-06:00

I don't know if you all remember, but I have a marathon coming up. You know, that whole crazy indoor marathon thing where 160 people run around in circles for a few hours? Yeah, it's this weekend. Five days from today. That's alarmingly soon, and yet, I do not feel alarmed. I probably should feel alarmed. I don't consider myself a good enough runner to not feel alarmed before attempting to run 26.2 miles. But the fact is, I've just been so busy with work and getting my personal trainer certification (that's a blog post for another day) and putting together a Hood To Coast relay team (also another blog post for another day), that I haven't had time to feel alarmed.

I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, maybe it's good that I'm not driving myself bonkers with thoughts of "what if...", or imagining injuries that aren't really there. On the other hand, a healthy dose of fear before a big race can make for a stronger performance. I should at least be a little worried about this marathon. No, I don't care that much about my time. And yes, I am doing this primarily for fun. (I sense that many of you are questioning my definition of fun. Rest assured, your concerns are valid.) But 26.2 miles is a long way whether you care about your finish time or not, and a lot can still go wrong. The last time I tried to run 26.2 miles, it didn't go at all like I planned. Given that miserable experience, shouldn't I be quaking in my Nikes with anxiety for this upcoming race?

Well, chances are, I will be before Sunday rolls around. Part of the problem is that this marathon still seems surreal to me. I mean, I haven't even calculated my target lap splits yet! And I haven't assembled my fueling supplies, packed my pre-run breakfast, or decided on my running outfit. For the love of Pete, I HAVEN'T EVEN RESEARCHED RESTAURANTS FOR MY PRE-MARATHON CARB-LOADING FEAST!!! *collective gasp from audience*

Suddenly, I feel alarmed. How could I have let all these things slide until the very last minute? Clearly, there is much to be done, and so little time left to do it. So why the hell am I sitting here typing up blog posts for you people when I should be on Yelp researching pasta restaurants in the Greater Milwaukee area, and whipping out my calculator to figure out my lap splits, and trying on different running outfits until I find the perfect one???

*flings papers and running clothes and bags of sport beans around wildly*

Out of my way, people! I'm on a mission of madness!!!

Peace. Love. Train.