Running oot and aboot in Canada, eh?

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.

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

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!

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!

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.

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

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!

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.

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

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.