My 2013 Western States 100 Report

An amazing race was held yesterday in California: the Western States 100.  I did not run it.  My friend, Ben, did.  Here is my report of how the event went.

Friday

Gleefully stalk Facebook to see the pictures posted by Ben's crew of their pre-race adventures. Such beautiful terrain! The forecast looks to be a hot one. I read Ben's pre-race report: it sounds like he is in a good place mentally, which I'm guessing is as important as the physical in an ultra race like this.  I wouldn't know, I've never run this distance! We watch Unbreakable: The Western States 100 for the 4th or 5th time.   I can't begin to comprehend what he is about to start. I'm in awe.

Saturday

8:20 am, EDT:  I wake up.  A millisecond later, I realize that the race has already started and I missed having one last chance to wish Ben good luck! I scramble to Facebook for any info.  There are a few pictures from the starting line, now we just wait for him to roll into the checkpoints for updates. 

9:00 am, EDT: I've gleaned all that I can from Facebook, it'll be a while until Ben hits the first aid station. I drag my lazy butt out of bed.  Ben's been running for an hour. I'm such a slacker. Get breakfast, coffee, back to Facebook.  Steph reports she'll be posting updates on Twitter. Dammit! I swore I'd never have a Twitter account.  Signed up for one so I can keep track of Ben.  This old lady doesn't even know how to tweet...time to learn!

11:00 am, EDT: I'm getting a late start, but I head out to do my own run of the day.  It's a cutback week for me, so I only have 10 miles to do. A tenth of what Ben is doing. Again, I'm such a slacker!  Aaron has been tracking Ben so he is told to text me updates as they come in. I don't know anyone else running the race, but I ask him to monitor a couple of other runners whose names I recognize:  Timothy Olsen, Gordie Ainsley, Hal Koerner, and Catra Corbett.

11:40, EDT: I arrive at Brown County State Park and immediately check for text messages.  Aaron has reports for me on Ben, Gordie, and Catra, hooray!  (Hal and Timothy had already checked in to the first aid station before I left home.) I head out for my own run.  Aaron sends me a couple more updates and I'm excited to hear that Ben is doing well. It sounds like he is running smart and is starting to pass a few folks.  I finish my run knowing that Ben still has a long day and night ahead of him. Wow.

Over the course of the afternoon, we hit the "refresh" button dozens of times as we anxiously wait for updates.  The iPad is constantly tuned to www.wser.org so we can be ready for updates as soon as they come in.  Aaron tries to predict which legs are the tougher ones based on the leaders' paces.  We see that an early leader for the men dropped at mile 47.8 and the drop list is getting longer as the day gets hotter.  Steph reports its hot, REALLY hot: 108*. Oh my yuck. Poor Ben. 

We eat supper. Still tracking.  Timothy Olsen wins the race.  Looks like Ainsley hasn't moved out of his aid station for a while.  Koerner drops at mile 78. Ben is still making progress.  Frantically searching Twitter and Facebook for updates.  

11:30 pm, EDT: I'm starting to get sleepy, we decide to watch an episode of Game of Thrones. I want to stay up as late as I can,  as though somehow my being awake is important to Ben.  Maybe it's just that I feel guilty that I can go to sleep if I want.

Sunday

12:40 am, EDT:  Episode is over, my eyes are fighting to close.  I head to bed, check for more updates and call it a night a bit after 1 am.  Ben is still moving, I'm glad that he has Steph running with him for company.

1:40 am, EDT: I wake up, hit refresh. No news. Back to sleep.

4:00 am, EDT: Wake up again, hit refresh. Yes! More progress! I'm so excited to see he's passed through a couple more aid stations! Not excited enough to stay awake though. Zzz....

7:30 am, EDT:  My alarm goes off, time to get ready for another run.  Ainsley and Catra are confirmed to have dropped out.  Of the runners I was tracking, one won the race, 3 dropped out, and Ben is still running.  I'm torn between staying home to continue tracking or going running.  Aaron promises to update me so I head out, at least this is a short run so I should be home in time for his finish.

9:30 am, EDT: Aaron texts me that Ben has passed through 93.5 miles. I stop running just long enough to read the text, then back at it.  He's really going to finish this. Amazing.

10:50 am, EDT: I'm heading for home, hope I get there in time to catch the finish!

10:56 am, EDT: Aaron texts me again that Ben has now passed through 98.7 miles. He has 1.3 miles to go!!  I had to pull off the road to check the text.  While I was parked, I quickly checked Facebook to see that all of my BARA friends are excitedly cheering him in for the last leg. I get weepy, this is so incredible and I'm not even running! 

I get home and ask Aaron if he's figured out how to get the live feed of the finish to work.  He hasn't, apparently it isn't online. A friend on Facebook lets me know that the Western States Facebook page is showing video clips of every finisher.  Right as I access that, Aaron announces "He's done!" Facebook feed explodes with congrats and I find his finish video. Amazing. Inspiring. Happy. Crying. 

Summary: Ben ran a long time, covered 100 miles, and traversed mountains, canyons, and rivers in near-record heat: the second hottest running of this race.  In that same time frame I woke up, ran, ate lunch, did housework, ran errands, ate dinner, watched tv, went to bed for a good night's sleep, woke up, and ran again.  

Ben, you are a beast!  You worked hard for this and I'm completely thrilled that you had this adventure.  Thank you for taking us along for the run, it was inspiring!  Enjoy the recovery, you've earned a few days of rest. :)

Dances With Dirt Gnawbone 50k

I ran my first 50k last weekend.  Can you believe that?  I was there and I still can’t quite wrap my mind around it!  I’m amazed, thrilled, and so very proud of myself.  It’s difficult to put all of the feelings into words but at the moment, I feel absolutely invincible.

As race week approached, I was on top of the world.  The taper left me full of energy and the anticipation was just about more than I could stand.  No fear of race day, I just wanted to be there and get it started.  I had trouble sleeping the weekend before:  going over my outfit choices, what would I pack in my hydration pack, would I use a drop-bag, and just in general wondering what it was going to be like.  I felt excitement, but no fear.  My training this spring had me confident and well-prepared.  Fortunately, as the week went on my sleep improved so I got to race day well-rested and well-fueled.

The 50M and 50k races started at 6:15 am, just late enough that the trail was visible and we didn’t need headlamps.  I planned to start the race with a friend and we’d see how the day went.  We had both trained with heart rate monitors and planned to stick to that through the race.   I was giddy at the starting line, I just couldn’t wait to get going.  The race started and we were doing it.  We were going to run 31 miles before the day was done.  Unbelievable.

The race started out on a gravel road that quickly dumped us onto the muckiest horse trail I’ve ever seen.  It’s described as “shoe-sucking” because that’s exactly what the mud does to runners who haven’t tied their laces tight enough.  We were glad that this year we were running the ultra distance:  that meant we got to be some of the first to tackle the horse trail.  By the time we’d hit it last year during the half marathon, it was a swamp!  It was still nasty, but not quite as bad.  We had to walk most of this because the effort of traversing the mud was enough to push us up and out of our heart rate zones.  Beep beep beep!

Eventually, we ended up on a single track trail. Ahh, that’s more like it!  We settled into a more reasonable pace once the mud and slop was gone.  As we got to our 4^th mile, we heard fast feet coming up behind us and moved to the side to let the faster runner pass.  We asked if he was running the relay (they started after us).  Hhe replied no and asked  what mile we were on.  We told him 4 and he said he was on mile 9:  he’d been with a group that had gotten lost already!  I can’t even imagine how demoralizing that must have been to have already run 5 extra miles that early in the race.  Ugh, I felt awful for him!  And we resolved not to let that happen to us!

I am not familiar with the trails that we ran on at that point so events there are a blur to me: we took a gel at mile 6, ran by a lake, passed a girl that looked like she was on the verge of a DNF (she didn’t), and obeyed our heart rate monitors.  I was feeling great:   legs were good, I was breathing easily, we wondered how our friends were doing, and the miles ticked by. 

At about mile 9, we got to the Hesitation Point aid station.  This brought me to trails I knew, so I was actually a bit disappointed that we took the logging road rather than the trail.  It was the easier path of the two, but I’d been looking forward to familiar terrain.  Not to fear though, it was only a mile or so until the road got us back to that trail and I was happy to be in an area I knew.  These felt like easy miles to me, both physically and mentally.  After this section though, I again have trouble remembering what happened when. 

There was an incredible aid station with music and the most divine orange slices.  We leap-frogged with a trio of runners until we eventually left them behind.  We heard voices but couldn’t tell if they were in front of or behind us.   One of my favorite things was getting to see our friend who was running the 50 mile race:  he was on his second lap as we were on our first and he was WINNING!  He looked great, chatted for a bit as we climbed up a crazy-steep hill, then he asked us to holler when second place came through and he was back to his race.  (Second place didn’t come by us for more than an hour!)  We went off-trail and had to claw our way through mud to find roots and rocks to pull ourselves up the hill.  That was stupid crazy fun. 

I knew there was going to be an awful set of stairs before we got to the Nature Center.  I’d not seen them before, so I was picturing the worst.  Happily, I didn’t find them nearly as bad as the ones at McCormick’s Creek.  I’m not sure if that was because of better pacing, better conditioning, or race-day magic.  Whatever it was, I was thrilled!  What I wasn’t so thrilled by was the pavement.  Once we got to the Nature Center, we ran on pavement for over a mile.  I vaguely remembered that area from last year’s half, but during the half you are only on pavement for a short distance.  I didn’t know that we’d be on it so long, so I was driving my running partner crazy because I knew that around each and every bend we were about to turn back onto the trail.  Ugh…that section was horrid for so many reasons.  The pavement hurt my feet, but we needed to take advantage of the smooth surface to make up some time.  Awful.  I just wanted to be back on the softer trail surface, even if it would mean a slower pace.

We finally got to the aid station that marked the return to the trail.  I grabbed a couple more M&M’s, a pretzel, and an orange slice and we were back on the dirt surface.  Aaaahhh….I remember thinking that I really didn’t feel any worse than I had at mile 9 or 10.  That wasn’t going to last much longer.  The hard-packed dirt trail soon gave way to more horse trail slop.  That mud seemed to suck the last drop of energy out of me.  I couldn’t wait to get that mud behind me.  Suddenly,  I was so mind-numbingly  tired.  We were at mile 27 (distance PR!) and in hindsight, I think this was more of a mental wall than a physical one.  There was some significant physical pain (my right big toe of all things), but I think that knowing how close we were to the finish was somehow giving us permission to acknowledge the fatigue.  Once we let that creep in, it took center stage.

We were looking forward to getting back to the single track that would dump us out at the top of the abandoned ski slope.  Every time we’d see a break in the trees, we’d get excited and ask “is that it?”  So exciting once we really were there!  Then we looked down the hill.  Unlike the muddy horse trail at the beginning of the race, this time we were some of the last runners to cross this section.  Most of the 50k, marathon, half, and 10k runners had already come through.  All of the vegetation had been stripped from the mud as the other racers had slid, skidded, and slopped their way down that initial drop.  We hoped to remain upright, so we scoped out a good spot to make our descent.  My friend went first:  she grabbed a low-hanging tree branch and used it like a rope to rappel down the drop-off.  I gave her enough room so that the branch wouldn’t whip back and hit me, then used the same branch to follow. 

The old ski slope was overgrown with waist-high grasses, briars, and saplings, but the previous runners had beat down a pretty good path for us.  We were so tired.  It was only a mile from here to the finish and we were just about completely spent.  A short briar bush was in the path and my friend plowed right over the top of it.  Why?  It was too much work to go around it!  We both found that hysterical and had a good laugh, which gave us a bit of a boost.  Not a lot, but every bit helped!

The course took us down the ski hill, across a field, then down to the creek.  We had been looking forward to the creek for miles.  We knew from last year that the cold water would be a welcome relief for our exhausted feet and it was every bit as wonderful as we remembered it.  Blessed cold water!  We waded through the creek for a hundred yards (or was it a thousand?), then we were practically within sight of the finish.  Our friend who’d won the 50M race was at the edge of the woods waving us in!  He high-fived my friend and ran in with us until just before the finish, then told us to take it on in.

The most incredible sight greeted my eyes.  Many of our friends from our running group had run shorter events of the day and had been done for hours.  I thought that there might be a few who’d stick around to see us finish but I didn’t expect the reception we got.  Almost every one of our friends was there lining the finish chute.  Screaming.  Cheering.  Holding out their hands for us to slap as we went by.  For us.  FOR US!  It was almost more happiness than I could bear.  I have the most amazing friends and they made me feel like a rock-star as I crossed the finish line.  My mom was there, too, but I couldn’t find her until after I had gotten my medal and she found me. 

So what does this finish mean to me?  It means that something I thought “impossible” a year ago wasn’t.  It means I’m tougher than I ever gave myself credit for.  It means I want to do this again and do it better.  It means that I get to take a couple of weeks off of training and then I get to do it again as I prepare for Flatrock in September.  It means I have earned my stripes as a trail ultrarunner.  It means that I shouldn’t be afraid to try new things because the only thing holding me back is myself. 

 

 

Some silly stats because I like numbers:

Official finish:  9:05:48.94

My max HR for training:  144

Average HR during the race:  137

Average pace for the race:  17:33

Average pace/HR for the first 20 miles:  17:35/138

Average pace/HR for the last 11 miles:  17:32/136

Number of Ignite Reload Gels eaten:  6 (generally every 6 miles, the last one was 2 miles from the finish)

Weight loss since January 2013:  20 lbs

Spring Training 2013

Five years ago, I volunteered to work a relay station at a trail race called Dances With Dirt Gnawbone.  I had been running for a year and I was intrigued by the idea of trail running.  I was intimidated though and I had no idea how to get started.   I thought volunteering would be a good risk-free way to scope out this activity.  My job was to take down bib numbers as the runners came through, an easy job.  Watching the enthusiasm of the relay runners coming into my exchange station only fueled my desire to be a part of this event someday.  The only thing holding me back was that I was afraid I’d get lost if I ran the course alone.   Last year (2012), my friend and I decided to run the half marathon there together and we had an absolute blast.  It was so much fun that before the race had ended, we’d decided that we’d run the 50k in 2013.  Why?  Because we wanted to make the fun last longer!

As January rolled around, I realized that I had no idea how to train for a 50k but I knew that I needed to buckle down if I was going to do this.  I was terrified, excited, and extremely motivated.  In January, I happened to listen to a Trail Runner Nation podcast about Metabolic Efficiency Training and I was hooked.  This sounded like a method that could work for me!   I completely revamped my nutrition as well as my training methods.   In simple terms, MET is a combination of training at a low heart rate plus the elimination of simple sugars and grains from the diet. The idea is that you train your body to burn fat instead of sugar for the long runs.  This appealed to me on a few levels.  I hoped that it would help me to lose some weight, be better fueled on long runs, and it also gave me some guidelines on pacing.  What I didn’t realize was how good it would make me feel, even when not running.  Recovery from long runs was very quick, my energy level was better, and I felt like my running had taken on a whole new direction.  As luck would have it, my friends training for the 50k had adopted the same training regimen.

In the early weeks of heart rate (HR) training, it was frustrating.  I was shuffling in order to keep that darned HR monitor from going off.  Walkers were passing me.  Literally.  I imagine that I looked ridiculous but I’d been told to expect this and to just be patient.  So I shuffled.   For the first few weeks, I stuck to flat roads or even the indoor track on the nasty days.  Just when I thought I was starting to see improvement, I transitioned back to the trail.  I had to walk every hill.   Every single hill.   I couldn’t take 3 steps on an uphill grade without hearing my HR alarm go off.  So I walked.  And walked.  Sometimes I thought I might have to take a nap right there on the trail to get my HR down, it was that bad.  Insanely frustrating and I admit, I wondered if this was going to work after all.

I think it took about 2 months before I realized things were getting better.  Not in a big way, but I noticed that I’d get farther up a hill before I’d have to walk.  I also noticed that I could feel the change in my legs when I crossed that HR threshold.   I was getting more in tune with my pacing and my body.  As the spring went on, my pace was dropping and the weight was coming off seemingly without effort.  That only served to fuel my motivation and commitment to the training.  As my miles were ramping up, I realized that I wasn’t experiencing the fatigue that had been part of marathon training in the past.  Yes, I was tired, but I wasn’t popping ibuprofen after every run and I’d finish a long run without needing to take a nap to recover.  I was feeling good.  Not just good,  I was feeling better than I’d felt in years.   Magic beans indeed!  I’m just now getting to the point where my HR pace is in line with my pace from last year, but the effort is completely different.  The pace that last fall had me breathless and unable to carry on a conversation is now almost effortless.  I can’t wait to see where the next few months take me.

Eagle Creek Trail Marathon Epic Report

We did it. It was tough, it was hot, and it had some of the most terrifying moments of my life, but we did it and the race gave us some amazing memories.

Saturday morning dawned bright and early to find that the four of us had already made the drive from home to Eagle Creek. We rolled out of the car to tend to the first task of race day. At that point, we decided that port-o-lets should be equipped with nightlights. I think someone even requested air conditioning so we figured we'd put that on our wish list for Michael to address. Michael is a friend of ours from our running group and he's also an employee of Planet Adventure, the company putting on the race. Michael became our omnipotent, omnipresent guardian for the rest of the day. Too many hills on the race? That's ok, Michael will fix it. Fearing for your life? Don't worry, Michael is looking out for us. I wonder if Michael ever realized how much we were depending on him during our races? Thank you, Michael!

A bit of background: Eagle Creek Park is in Indianpolis and its centerpiece is a 1400 acre reservoir bounded by almost 4000 acres of hilly woodlands. I went into this race a bit over-confident. I had convinced myself that running the trails of Bloomington would enable this to be a relatively easy race. While it was no Paynetown, I certainly underestimated how rugged a trail in Indianapolis could be! Must be why this trail is ranked as Runners World's Best Urban Trail Marathon. The race is set on a 13-mile loop that we would run twice (turns out that it's actually a 13.6-mile loop but who's counting?).

Pre-race activities are a blur: repeated trips from the staging area to the car (forgot my hat, Mel needed her coffee, blah, blah), repeated visits to port-o-lets, hand wringing and pacing. In other words, we were dealing with a lot of nervous energy that would only be fixed by the race starting. The marathoners would start first in two self-seeded waves, followed by two waves of half marathoners, then the quarter marathoners. We opted for the second wave which meant there were only about 20 folks in our wave, the other 102 started in the first wave. I think this worked to our advantage: the bottlenecks were neglible, we weren't being passed or needing to pass, and there weren't 102 people ruining the moment.

After the usual pre-race announcements, the first wave took off, and we lined up. Nobody in the second wave wanted the front row. It was pretty comical: all of us second-wave runners standing around like we're afraid of the starting line and don't want to get too close. As it turned out, Heather, Erin, and I took the front row. Hilarious. I don't think I've ever seen the starting line from that perspective. The race director gave us a countdown of 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1 and we were off. Oh. My. This is really happening.

The first few miles were fun: we went out faster than we planned and that was a surprise. We were trying to slow down, but the terrain was easier than we were used to, we were still on a nervous high, and we weren't sure what to expect of the course. The trail really was beautiful: hills, single track dirt trails, lots of obstacles in downed trees and roots, and we were in the woods so how can it NOT be nice?

Halfway through the third mile, we heard a voice saying "just grab my hand and I'll lift you over". Huh? It was a slight bottleneck there, maybe 3 or 4 people, so I couldn't see what they were talking about other than they were going up a steep incline. Once Erin and I made it to source of the voice, we could see that there was a wonderful volunteer wearing textured-grip gloves helping folks clamber over a metal road guardrail.

This began one of the sections that we would learn to hate: the 0.8 mile-long causeway over the reservoir. Ugh. Not just asphalt, but asphalt on a 4-lane road without trees. Yuck. Drudgery. Since this is an out-and-back course that we run twice, we'd be running it 3 more times. Yuck x 4. Just buckle down and do it, right?

We get off of the causeway and we're immediately back in the woods. Aaahhhh...much better, not just mentally, but physically. The impact of the asphalt on our feet felt horrible compared to the dirt of the trail. After about 2 more miles in the woods, the course starts a 2-mile loop that gets us turned around for the reverse of the route. We were horribly disappointed when we realized that we weren't going to see our friend Heather! We'd been looking forward to seeing her and cheering for her. So sad, but we hoped we'd get to see her on the next loop.

  Even though we'd read the course description and had seen the course map, somehow we had it in our heads that this was a short loop. A few minutes and we'd be on our way back to the start. Uh, no. We had to run this awful gravel road around the lake (ouch, ouch, more impact on tired feet) and THEN we got to go back. The only redeeming factor of this stupid gravel road is that we got to see Ana. She was running the half and she caught up to us at this point. Some nice chatter with her while we walked, then we sent her on her speedy way again. Another little boost that helped to get us closer to home, then we were back in the woods again.

We knew that we had about 2 miles of woods before we hit the causeway again. The causeway and the gravel became our focal points: just get it over and we'll be that much closer to the good parts. Just before arriving at the causeway, we heard "yoo hoo" and turned to see Miss Mel catching up to us. Hooray! Another quick photo op, chatting, and some quick encouragement. When we got to the road itself, Mel advised us that she wanted to get that part over as fast as possible, she took off and we watched her fade in the distance. Erin kept saying that she thought the race wouldn't start for her until we started the second loop. I think seeing Mel run on ahead is what made it real to me.

Approaching the start area was tough. Most of the folks running around us (and there weren't many) were running the half. They'd express some amazement that we were in it for the full and then, more often than not, they'd run on ahead. As we crossed the start line itself, it was a bit amazing to think that we were only halfway done. I was tired, I was drenched in sweat, and now I was going to do exactly the same thing all over again. Really?? We also realized that we were going to cover more than 27 miles before this was done. Wow.

 

Loop number 2. Same as the first, little bit louder, little bit worse.

On the second loop, we were amazed that the aid station volunteers were still so happy. It was wonderful enough that they were even there, but they actually seemed thrilled to be there and even happier to see us! They made us feel like rockstars, like we were the most awe-inspiring runners they'd seen all day.  You have no idea how much that means until you're a runner four hours on your feet with four more to go and that cheerful attitude gives you this enormous boost that puts you on top of the world. It didn't hurt their angel-like status that they had ice and the most delectable potatoes I've ever had. Potatoes as a delicacy? Yes, these potatoes are something to dream about. Maybe it's the race, maybe it's the fatigue, but those little heavenly nuggets of salty goodness were spectacular. Yummmm...

Trip number 3 across the causeway found us doing a lot more walking than running, so Erin initiated a bit of a fartlek program to get us over that cursed bridge. "Run to the second roadkill" was the challenge. Weird, but ok, I'll play along. I was so tired that during this point I started to get worried that someone has moved the roadkill and I might have to run the whole way. Seeing Mr. Raccoon's poor little carcass relieved me though, another walk break. RIP, Mr. Raccoon.  Or other small brown furred creature.  I'm not really sure what it was.  Ick.

As we made the trek through the woods from causeway to gravel road again, we finally got to see Heather. Woo hoo! Cheers, high fives on the run, and then she was speeding back towards the finish line. Lucky girl, we still had to deal with Hell on Gravel. By the time we got to the gravel, we were resigned to walking the whole damn road. Our feet were hurting and the act of running on gravel was just about unbearable. We complained, we moped, we just wanted to get that stupid gravel behind us. The sun was shining in a blue sky and it was HOT. I looked up at the sky and noted that there were some clouds, I even asked the sun to go hide behind them for a bit. Just stay behind the clouds until we get back into the trees, maybe send a small rainshower our way? Please? No luck. Sun stayed out and kept things toasty. Trudging my way through it, I was starting to feel a little broken.  

Back in the trees again, after a few minutes we debated if we were hearing thunder or airplanes. Probably airplanes, we decided. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. Why would we be hearing thunder. Wishful thinking on my part, I'd hoped for a little rainshower to cool me off. A few minutes later though, we realized that it was thunder but it still sounded a long ways off. I revised my wish for rain to specify that rain was welcome, however I did NOT want to run in a thunderstorm, because that's just dumb, crazy, and dangerous.

There was an aid station a short distance before the course throws us out of the woods and onto the causeway. One of the volunteers says, "looks like your run across the causeway might get interesting" as he motions through the trees across the reservoir. Holy crappola, the clouds are scary dark over there! Erin and I realize that the causeway is probably the most exposed, isolated place we could be during a storm so we realize that if we can get there in time, we'll need to cross it as quickly as we can to minimize the hazard. We try to pick up the pace a bit, my right knee is starting to hurt and Erin's back is twingy but we do our best. Then, we get to the causeway. We are saying we hope the cop running traffic duty doesn't force us into his car to wait out the storm.

From the trail itself, we can see the dark clouds to our left (turns out that was the south). We have storm to our left, blue skies to the right. We don't know which way the storm is moving: towards us, parallel, or away from us. Erin says we need to run the whole bridge and I agree, so we take off. We get maybe a third of the way across and then we can see it. A massive, fast-moving wall of water moving our way. Somehow, we found another gear and sped up. Hurry, hurry, maybe we can still get across before it gets here....um, no, it's getting closer and fast. Then it's coming at us from the front. We see this wall of rain from both directions, the front and the left. We're about to get pounded. I kid you not, we're terrified.

  I feel the first raindrop at the same time that Erin says, "it's raining." I have barely enough time to mutter in agreement and then it's a downpour. Actually, it's more like a sidepour: the rain is coming straight at us from the left, sideways. It's raining so hard that it hurts. I have my running cap on, but it's not keeping the rain from being blown UNDER the brim. I'm holding onto my hat so it doesn't blow away. Lightning strikes so closely that the thunder is instantantaneous. We both scream. And curse in fear. I know I ducked, as if being 3" shorter is going to save me. We are running balls to the wall. Honest to God with every inch of my being I'm literally running for my life. It starts to hail but we can't run any faster. Luckily, the hail is small and not big enough to cause actual injury but it's still frightening. I'm wheezing, having trouble breathing, but I know Erin can't hear it over the storm. We're just trying to get across the bridge intact. Just as we get to the end of the bridge, it stops almost as fast as it started. Lightning strikes very close, we scream again. We just want to get under cover as fast as we can. I drag my exhausted self over that mountain of a guardrail and my feet just about go out from under me on the now-slick descent to the trail. I turn to warn Erin that it's slick and then here she comes.

Later that evening I learned that we experienced the southern edge of a derecho. The storm continued to build and raced across northern/central Indiana and on into Ohio. A wind gust of 63 mph was recorded at Eagle Creek reservoir and I felt it first-hand. While it certainly made for an exciting run, I hope that I never experience it again! When I uploaded my Garmin data, I see that we tore across the causeway at a sub 10:00 pace. At mile 24, for the two of us, that is nothing short of astounding. If you had told me that I would have run it that fast even 5 minutes earlier, I would have laughed in your face. I don't think that I've ever truly experienced the "fight or flight response" like I did during that storm. As it turns out, adrenalin is a pretty amazing chemical. Not only does it make your heart beat faster, open your airways, and give you strength you didn't realize you had, it's a pretty potent pain reliever. In the short term.

Erin and I had a few minutes of "oh my god, can you believe what just happened" and conflicting emotions of fear, triumph, and elation. We relished that our wet, cold feet actually felt better. Then, the pain hit. As in, my right knee doesn't want to play nice anymore. I don't know what I hurt, but it was obvious that in my panic to outrun the storm, I strained something pretty good. There was no way that I could run uphill, it hurt too much. Extend my knee? Forget it, not gonna do it. I'm trying to walk as fast as I can to keep up with Erin, but she doesn't think that's good enough in the final mile. "Victor, we are finishing this in under 8 hours if it kills us! Pull up your big boy pants and do it!" I'm not sure when the gender change occurred or why I even listened, but I did what she commanded. Little baby running steps, even uphill, and we crossed the finish in 7:53. Just like she said we would.

Random memory snapshots of the race. Random because in my exhausted state I honestly don't remember when/where I was when they happened. Making a Power Arch for random marathon walker guy, I think we scared him a bit. Thinking Erin was in extreme pain but then realizing it was a pair of "nature lovers" doing what lovers do. In the woods. Thankfully out of sight. Ew. Cheering on dozens of other runners we'd never met until today. Being annoyed by the trail newbies who wouldn't announce their intentions to pass by saying "on your left", they'd just barrel over the top of you or hover at your left shoulder until you'd jump off the trail. Nice.

A day later, the knee is still cranky but it's getting better. I'm still a bit giddy that I ran my first trail marathon. Am I looking to the next one? Not just yet. I'm going to take at least a few days off, then test the legs to see if they're ready. Next up on the agenda is a 5k with Emma, which will probably be a recovery run for me. Once the legs have recovered, I'll be jumping into a half marathon training plan to get me ready for the half at the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon. My goal? Well, let's see how training goes, but I have high hopes.

(Note:  First, sixth, and ninth photos were taken by Doug Mathews--thank you!)

Taper Time

I'm in the thick of my marathon taper: 2 weeks since my 20-miler, 6 days til race day. Yesterday I had a delightful massage to address the fatigue and tightness that I'd been feeling in my calves. Today, post-massage DOMS. So glad that I allowed plenty of time between massage day and race day! She did pick up on large areas of adhesions and tightness in both calves, working that out was one if those "hurts so good" kind of experiences. I'm thinking a post-race session will be a good idea though.

After spending the summer doing 90% of my long runs on trails, I find that I'm almost dreading moving back to roads for fall training. Maybe after I've recovered, I'll appreciate the easier terrain? I know I'll miss the scenery, the surface, and the shade of the trail but it's a necessary evil I suppose. Then again, it can't hurt to toss in a trail run now and then.

Goals for the marathon? I don't really have them to be honest. It's going to be hot, it's going to be slow, and (I hope) it's going to be an adventure. I anticipate we'll finish between 6 and 7 hours and with big cheesy triumphant grins on our faces. I'm looking forward to Saturday, it's going to be a day to remember.

Long-Run Delirium

So my training for the Eagle Creek Trail Marathon is in full swing. I swore off of marathons until I could run a sub-2:00 half, which I assumed meant I'd never have to go through marathon training ever again. Then I discovered trail running. Apparently, I've now completely lost my mind because I decided that not only would I take on the challenge of a trail marathon, but I would run this race at summer's peak. Fantastic plan, don't you think?

Today our schedule had us aiming for a 19-mile run. The weatherman didn't get the message though and gave us a forecast topping out at 97 degrees. Um, yeah. Thanks, buddy. Our plan was to start at 6:30 a.m. and hopefully avoid the worst of the heat. So much for that.

We met at Deam Wilderness to tackle the challenge head-on: 2 loops of the Cope Hollow Trail would give us 20 miles. The veterans gave us the basic directions of "go right, then left at every turn until the last right." How will we know we're at the last right? If you think you should be almost done but you cross the road, you missed it. Gotcha.

So, we ran. And ran. And walked. Ran some more. Wow, it's getting warm. Erin was pretty sure it was about 90 degrees out. She reminded Heather and I of that several times, just in case we hadn't noticed. We had fun finding the trail markings Ben, Steph, and Evan left for us along the way. At least, we assumed that's what those marks were. Now, I'm a bit suspicious that this one was left by the Blair Witch. Close call, huh?

Once we started loop two, things got interesting. In an effort to deal with the heat, we decided to pretend it was cold. We discussed warm fuzzy slippers, cozy blankets, snowball fights, and goosebumps but it didn't work: it was still hot. Probably 90 degrees according to Erin. Since we obviously had no snow, we briefly considered making dust angels. We discarded that plan when we realized we probably already looked like dust angels.

There was a lot of laughing, a few "are we there yets", and the promise of Bruster's ice cream once we were finished. Discussions ranged from how to splint and carry out a friend if she breaks her ankle to trading a hydration pack for a monkey backpack (complete with tail leash) for a certain individual who tends to be easily distracted to oh my god these mosquitos are driving me insane. Overall, today may have been one of the most difficult runs I've ever done, both mentally and physically. I credit Heather and Erin with getting me through this run. Oh, and the ice cream.

Carmel Half Marathon Race Report (4/21/12)

PR pace for 6 miles, then I lost it. Not a bad run though. I really like the course: more rolling than Monumental, but not as hilly as IU. It would have been nice to have had more spectators on the course, but that's not a deal-breaker for me. Forecast was for a chilly morning, overcast and windy. I wore my Nike compression shorts, s/s BARA tee, teal arm-warmers, a throwaway cotton sweater, and compression socks. No Garmin: the battery in mine won't last more than 2 hours and we'd forgotten Aaron's, so I was running with my Timex. From the start of the race, this felt like a good day. Felt so good, that within a hundred yards of the start, I got teary. I'm not sure why today was different, but my legs just felt different, better. It was like I didn't even need a warm-up. I wish I knew what made the difference. The first 6 miles were a dream. 9:59, 9:50, 9:47, 10:10, 10:02, 9:56. It felt effortless, easy. First 6.55 miles in 1:06:21. Not sure what happened next. Mile 7 took a turn for the worse: 11:09, 10:20, 10:21, 11:15, 10:54, 10:21, 11:24 (1.1). Second half in 1:09:09. Not a huge positive split, but I usually negative split. I guess that I went out too fast? It felt like a good pace, but maybe I just got caught up in the excitement of race day. The finish area was a bit disappointing: no mylar blanket (I was FREEZING once I stopped moving and the wind cut through my wet clothes), finish line food consisted of bananas, a bag of chips, and cheese/peanut butter crackers. Meh. Scored two gnarly blisters on my foot, I was still shivering a half hour after my hot shower (we had to stand in the cold wind for 20 minutes waiting for the shuttle), and my shirt is gigantic but I still count it as a successful day. I even managed to run the whole course without stopping at a portalet. Overall, I like the course and it's definitely PR material. Better training, 10 degrees warmer, and no wind and I think it could be something big for me. Next year?

The Garmin-less Experiment (continued)

So after yesterday's surprising race outcome, I decided to continue the experiment but changed things up a little bit. I did take my Garmin, but set it so that all I could see was elapsed time. Today's plan was to run 1:45, not so much a set distance but time on my feet. Aaron dropped me off downtown and I ran a loop around campus, then turned south on the B-Line to meet up with him. It was another gorgeous day for a run and I started around 3:00 pm. I think everyone and their brother and their brother's dog was out for a run today!

I felt absolutely fantastic for the first 6 miles, running what felt like a very easy pace and very comfortable. Just after completing the 6th mile though, I began to have some serious questions about my lunch choices. Whatever made me think that I could start my long run 45 minutes after downing most of a Greek calzone? And two slices of cheesy garlic bread? OMG, what had I been thinking...ugh, bad BAD idea. Detoured to the Winslow Rd Burger King to tend to some GI turbulence. Texted Aaron to find out he was starting at Church Lane and heading north to meet me. I felt better so back to the rail trail. As soon as I turned onto the rail trail itself, I spotted another family out enjoying the beautiful day. I'm not so sure that they enjoyed me gawking and staring, much less taking their picture. I think that I gave them the creeps because they decided to abandon the trail after I took their picture.



I ran about another quarter mile before I was forced to walk again. And that's how the rest of the run went: walk a quarter, run a quarter. My stomach was trying to stage a coup and I wasn't going to let it win. *burp* I didn't manage to finish out the planned 1:45 run thanks to the rebellious calzone, but knew it was time to call it quits.

Once I got home, I checked out the Garmin stats. In spite of my feeble running for the last mile, I'd averaged an 11:03 pace for the 7.25 miles. Really?? Yep, really and truly and for 4 miles I'd been around a 10:30 pace. Stupid calzone. Lesson learned. Again.

Springville 10k Report 10/01/2011

A couple of months ago, I made a point of putting all of the Mag7 races on my calendar. Not because I planned to do a lot of them, but I thought it might be fun if I wanted to run a few on a whim. Today turned out to be such a day.

The plan when I turned in last night was to go for a nice early run with the folks from the running group. I'd picked out my clothes, set the alarm, and even had plans for breakfast with them afterwards. Yet when 6:00 am rolled around and my alarm went off, my brain said "no way!" and shut the alarm off without any hesitation. Back to sleep it was, waking just long enough to send my friends a quick text that I wasn't coming. Slacker, right?

After enjoying a lovely, leisurely morning with the family I started to mull over my running agenda. Run on my own or hit up that afternoon 10k that was on the calendar? So tempting, but I haven't run a 10k in ages, my training this fall has been weak, and I wasn't registered. Yet the sun was shining, it was a gorgeous fall day, and the urge to go run a race was there. Now that I'm back on my thyroid meds (all the tests were normal, by the way), just feeling normal feels amazing. You know how good you feel after you've had the flu, that first day of feeling human again? Yeah, that's how I feel now.

I looked over the web site, printed out the registration and the Mag7 voucher coupon and continued to debate it. I invited hubby to come along, but he didn't think it sounded the least bit fun and said he'd rather not. The day was beckoning, I just couldn't pass it up. He laughed and told me to just go, he knew I wanted to!

I hadn't made it a mile from the house when I realized that I'd forgotten my Garmin and wasn't wearing my watch either. I briefly considered going back for it, but decided against it. Today wasn't a goal race, maybe it'd be fun to race without a timepiece. Today's as good a day as any to give it a try, let's see what happens.

Once I got to Springville, it took just a couple of minutes to get my registration turned in and the volunteers gave me my race shirt and bib. It looked like it was going to be a pretty small crowd, which surprised me considering how amazingly beautiful the day was turning out to be. I chatted for a bit with the other runners, whining to Steph about how frustrated I've gotten with what I see as my failure to improve over the past two years. All of my race PR's occurred in fall 2008/spring 2009 but since then, it feels like I'm losing ground. Oh, well, after some conversation it was time for me to do a little bit of a warm-up and then head to the start line.

The course for the race was an out-and-back. I had checked out the elevation profile before I'd left home so I knew roughly what to expect. The outbound portion would be almost a steady uphill grade, but that meant the race would have my favorite kind of finish: downhill! I think I can fight my way through anything when I know that there's a downhill on the other side. That's a big part of my love for the Flying Pig, in fact: that long downhill finish into downtown Cincy.

Since I had no time piece and hadn't been training for the distance, I was really stumped over how to pace for this race. For the first mile, I started myself at the back of the pack, let the runners settle into their places and then tried to stay with the folks around me. After the first mile, I decided to change up my strategy a bit and started reeling in the runners ahead of me one by one. Nothing too impressive, just a steady push. I did take 2 short walk breaks on the steeper uphills, but then pressed on again at a slightly faster pace each time.

My 10k PR (1:00:15) was run in November 2008 at the Cincinnati Thanksgiving Day Race. That also was just 4 weeks after my half marathon PR (2:11:26) at the Indianapolis Monumental. That 1:00:00 barrier has taunted me ever since and I've not come any closer since that 2008 race. In spite of not being in PR condition, I decided that a little mind game was in order today. From about the 2-mile mark through the rest of the race, when I'd feel my legs starting to falter, I'd tell myself that I was running a 1:01:00 pace and if I wanted to get in under an hour, I needed to pick it up. I had this mental image of the race clock ticking away and that I needed to go just a little faster to chip away at that 1:01:00 finish.

The toughest part of the race for me was from about the 2.5 mile point to the turnaround. I was anxious to get that uphill portion over with but it just seemed neverending! The good thing is that I still was holding my own and not being passed by other runners, but we were spaced out far enough that I was barely making progress on the runner ahead of me.

Finally hit the 3.1 mile point, grabbed a quick drink of water, then took off again to head back to the finish. Still telling myself that my pace wasn't fast enough, need to push harder, not going to get in under an hour...hurry, hurry, hurry. It was strange having no idea what my pace was and having to gauge things totally off of perceived effort. My legs were tired, really truly tired and I was only halfway there! I was so glad that I didn't have long uphill stretches to fight through anymore, my legs were ready for this race to be over. Push harder, don't give up, picturing what the clock at the finish will read. Will it be 1:10:15 or maybe 59:59? Absolutely no idea so better push harder!

I don't know if I missed the mile markers as I was coming in or if they weren't there. I saw the signs for the outbound mile markers so I had a good idea where I was, I knew the finish was getting close when I recognized the houses I'd passed on my warm-up. I started watching for the 6 mile marker, I did remember that I'd seen that on my warm-up. Once I passed it, I tried to dig deep to get a good kick to finish. I found that there wasn't much left, I was really, truly, and completely spent. As I came up to the finish, it was bittersweet to see the clock ticking up from 1:00:10. I finished in 1:00:20, only 5 seconds off of that PR that I thought was still out of reach.

That's given me a lot to think about. 1) How much have I sabotaged my training by not believing in myself? 2) How do I improve my mental game? 3) Is it time to ditch the Garmin and just run? 4) I think this may be one of my best-run races ever. Part of me wishes that I had worn the Garmin so that I could review it but I know that had I been wearing it, I probably wouldn't have run it as well as I did.

Very happy with today's race. :)

Just Get Out!

I did manage to get out for a run yesterday. My breathing was awful. I'd forgotten how being hypothyroid makes my laryngeal issues worse and it felt like my throat was trying to close up each time I inhaled. I had to take a LOT of walk breaks just to catch my breath. My legs felt pretty much as I'd expect them to feel after 2 days of rest: sluggish. Honestly, the first 2 miles was an exercise in persistance. In spite of being absolutely miserable for the first half of it, it did get better once I hit my turnaround and I felt better for the rest of the day. I felt better than I have for several days in fact. Sometimes I need that dramatic reminder of how much my mental and emotional states benefit from a run. For the rest of the day and evening, my mind was in a better place, my body felt better, and I was definitely in a better mood. Obviously I need to heed my own advice: just get out there and run, you'll feel better once you're done.

In hindsight, I think that most of my "hypothyroid signs" are more likely due to running withdrawal than to my hormonal state. This is a big part of why I run actually. No matter how stressful a day I've had, how tired I am, or how much I just want to crash on the couch, I've only had a couple of runs that when I was done I regretted doing them. The overwhelming majority of the time, I finish with a smile and a better outlook on my day. Maybe this is why I try to encourage new runners to stick with it. Once you get to the point where you recognize the mental and emotional boost, you keep coming back to get your fix. I never would have believed it myself when I started running. Me? Hooked on running? Ha! For about a year, I'd dread each workout. I'd drag myself off of the couch to go to meet up with the running group at IRC just to avoid the questions of "where were you last night?" One day, a rest day, I realized that I didn't WANT to rest. I wanted to run. That was a turning point for me and most of the time, that feeling is there. Yesterday reminded me why.

Plugging Along

Today's entry is going to stray from my usual babble about my running agenda. My blog is my journal, my diary, and today it's my therapy.

Today is my eighth day off of Synthroid and I'm plugging along just trying to go through the motions of my routine. As long as I keep busy, I feel mostly ok: some dizziness now and again, I'm tired, lethargic, and lacking motivation. I slept almost as much as I was awake over the weekend, but the family is taking good care of me by taking care of themselves. I do find that once I sit down, the fatigue closes in on me and it's hard to overcome the inertia to get moving again. I haven't run since Saturday's race (the Bloomingfoods 5k Breakaway), in spite of my good intentions. Going to try again today, wish me luck.

So why am I off of my Synthroid? In February of 2002, when the twins were only 7 weeks old, I had my thyroid and its goose-egg sized evil alien friend removed. A few months later, I had radioactive iodine to kill any cells that might have survived the surgery. The iodine was delivered to me in a heavy lead cup by a friendly young man stunningly dressed in a lead apron and wearing lead gloves. I was told to swallow my radioactive cocktail in one gulp, given a tissue to wipe my lips, and instructed to discard the tissue into a radioactive waste bin. That was it. I was told not to sneeze or cough on anyone and I was good to go. By "go" I mean "go straight home and isolate myself from every other living being in my household for a week". Easy peasy. All in all, a pretty simple and straight-forward treatment for cancer: no nasty chemotherapy, no radiation burns, no weakened immune function. Today, the only reminders I have of the cancer are the faded scar on my throat, the raspy voice and funky breathing I have courtesy of laryngeal paralysis, and my absolute dependence on taking thyroid supplements for the rest of my life.

Eleven months out of the year, those are the only reminders that is. In order to test for any recurrance of the cancer, about once a year they have me go completely off of my meds so they can check my blood for any thyroid protein. If any thyroid protein (thyroglobulin) is found, it suggests that I'm relapsing. This is a stressful process for two reasons: just being reminded that cancer could be lurking is worrisome but the added benefit of being severely hypothyroid during this testing impairs my coping abilities. For me, it tends to affect me with fatigue, apathy, irritability, weepiness, and a bad case of the blues. I try to run through the hypo phase, sometimes that's easier than others. This time around seems to be a bit tougher than usual for no reason that I can tell. At 10 years post-diagnosis/treatment, the chances of me having a recurrance are <5%. Pretty good odds, right? Every year when it's time for tests though, I'm not interested in what the odds predict. All that I want to know is what do my tests say?

Tomorrow is my first blood test after going off of the meds. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's been long enough for them to do the rest of the tests. If not, I stay off of the meds and we test again in a week. In the meantime, I'll keep moving in slow motion, sleeping every chance I get, and trying to keep my head above water.

Time to go run.

I Love/Hate my Body

Or maybe it's the other way around? Today is one of those days where I'm disgusted with the way my body works. Doc left me a message yesterday with some unexpected test results which will result in me needing more tests. In case that's not enough, the timing of these tests will leave me all off-kilter when I start my new job in 2 weeks. Just what I wanted: Hi, I'm your new employee and I need to take a week off because my body refuses to play nice. Oh, lucky me. My heel is still nagging at me in spite of 2 days of rest. The weather is great, my mental state could really use a run, but the fear of making the mystery heel injury worse has me taking another unplanned rest day. Nothing like a day where I both desperately need a run to clear my head and my body needs a rest day to heal itself. Some days, it just sucks no matter how you look at it.

One step forward, two back

I wrote up a race report for Geist a couple of weeks ago, just to have blogger eat it in spite of my repeated clicks on "save now" and "publish post". I was so frustrated by that effort, that I didn't bother trying again.

Short version: Geist Half Marathon has a beautiful course, it was warm and humid that day, I had 6 miles of a great race, then 7 miles of misery and pain. The frustrating part is that the issue isn't even running-related, I think it was just bad timing that it even happened during the run. *sigh* It was the first race where I wanted to DNF. The only thing that kept me going was my stupid pride.

Unfortunately, I had the same problem this past weekend during a 10k. Again, the race was going well until out of the blue, GI pain and then spasms hit and I was barely even able to walk until it settled down a bit. If there'd been a support vehicle in sight, I would have DNF'ed it then and there. It was so much worse than what I endured during Geist, absolute misery. I was also registered to run a 5k an hour after finishing the 10k, but was so sick that I knew there was no way I could do the second race so I turned in both timing chips after the first race. I would think it was just "runner's trots" except I'm having the same issues after a taxing morning of dragging my butt out of bed and sitting on the couch. It doesn't make sense.

On a positive note: I'm on week 5 of P90X and very happy with the progress I'm making. This evening I did the Legs and Back work-out followed by Ab Ripper. I still can't do a single pull-up but I did almost every one of the reps on Ab Ripper! Way to go, Me!

May Happenings

Well, so far, so good on the P90X work-outs. I'm staying on schedule with the work-outs and haven't missed one yet. I try to do the work-outs in the morning, then my runs later in the day. The soreness is easing up, now I'm just stiff and exhausted! I'm seeing some progress already but I imagine that some of that is just because I'm learning how to do the moves and I'm not fumbling my way through so much. My body is still adapting to the extra demands that I'm making, at least I think that's why my legs are so wiped out. My legs have been in a constant state of fatigue all week, as in I get tired crossing the room or going up a flight of stairs. It's just adaptation though, right?

I ran in the Morgan County Fallen Officers Memorial 5k last Saturday. The race is one of the flattest in the area and I'd last run it 2 years ago. During the 2009 race, I remember it was incredibly humid and the air just felt nasty. The weather was just about perfect this time though, overcast, 58 degrees, and fairly comfortable humidity. I admit to being disappointed in my race though. In spite of better weather, keeping my brain in race mode, and not taking a single walk break, I ran the course 9 seconds slower than in 2009. Ugh, it's so frustrating! I know that I won't PR every race, but I get aggravated that I'm not improving. My goal for now is to stay healthy/uninjured so I can keep putting in the miles and the cross-training. Hopefully, keeping that goal intact will help the rest of my running to improve. On the plus side, I did see via the online race results that I placed 3rd in my AG (40-49). Even better is that the Mag7 does their season scoring based on the 40-44 AG and I was first in that division. Hooray for being in a weak AG!

Next on the agenda: Geist Half Marathon in 4 days. I've never done this race, so it'll be a new one for me. No expectations, just hoping to enjoy the day and not worry about pace for a change.

A New Leaf

Now that my goal race for the spring is over, I decided this was a good time to get some consistent cross-training underway. I always have good intentions about cross-training, but have trouble following through. Since I don't have the excuse of being knee deep in a training schedule or any significant job obligations (unfortunately...) I plan to stick to it. Today is day 4 of P90X and we started the morning dark and early with Yoga X. I'd forgotten how tough the first 40 minutes of that work-out is! I also forgot that it's a 90-minute routine. Oops, only had time for an hour, so I'll finish it later today. I still have to do the Ab Ripper that I was supposed to do yesterday (yesterday was Arms and Shoulders PLUS Ab Ripper, but I didn't allow enough time for 2 routines, oops).

I'm guessing that I'm going to be pretty sore most of the time for the next few weeks, but the payoff will be worth it. We're doing the Lean version rather than the Classic but I'm thinking I may try Classic next time.

I'm trying to get the kids more involved in fitness as well. That's not a new venture, but I'm trying a new tactic. Since hubby and I will be doing the P90X videos, I checked out a few videos for the kids from the library to try. The kicker is that the only way I can get the kids to do them, is to do the video with them! This means that in additon to my running and my P90X, I'm also doing things like Hip Hop Abs, Yoga for the Kid in All of Us, and Island Girl Tahitian Hip Hop!! Yikes! Hopefully, the kids will decide that the videos are enough fun that they will continue them without my help because I can't keep up with 3 hours of exercise every day for long!

2011 Flying Pig Half Marathon Report

Race morning: the alarm went off dark and early. Hit the snooze button and nodded off for a few minutes until it went off again. Ugh, that felt like a very short night, I was still so very tired! We dragged ourselves out of bed and ate peanut butter with a banana on a tortilla, then tried not to fall back to sleep again. We got all of our gear ready and left the hotel at 5:50 to make the short trek to the start line. It was still raining, as expected, but we had brought some of those cheap plastic ponchos to keep us dry. It’s always fun walking over to Paul Brown Stadium and seeing the crowds growing in excitement as you draw closer to the staging area.

This was the first year that the Flying Pig had Pig Pens, a.k.a. starting corrals. They had us staged based on the finishing times we had entered on our registration and the corrals went from A through E. Aaron and I were in D so we approached the starting line where A was and then still had a good ways to go to get to our corral. As soon as we entered D, we heard someone joyfully yell “The VICTORS!!!”. I wasn’t expecting such a welcome, but it was fantastic to see Erin Hazler waiting for us! We chatted for a bit, I complained that I wished I’d hit the bathroom one last time, and about then the race started. As we meandered towards the start line, I warned Aaron and Erin that I was going to make a pitstop if I saw a portajohn with a short line before we got to the start line. I found one and told them to go on. Of course, they waited.

The three of us ran together for the first stretch and it was good to have company. Usually, I run my races alone, it helps me to find my “zone” but this time I was appreciating the companionship. My stuffy head was threatening to move into my chest, so I was running with no real expectations other than to see how I felt and take it from there. The rain ponchos didn’t last very long, we’d peeled them off in probably the first half mile. It was only a gentle drizzle and it didn’t take long to get warm enough to want the ponchos gone. As we approached the Southgate bridge, I was pleased with how well I was feeling. Not strong, but at least my head had cleared up and I could breathe. Mile 1 in 11:46.

Since I’d taken the pit stop in the starting corrals, we’d gotten trapped in behind a lot of walkers. At some points, it was tough to even keep an easy jog going due to the traffic. In hindsight, it may be better to make a quick stop on the course than risk getting caught in walking traffic next time. At some point in this second mile, I realized that I’d lost Aaron and Erin as I zigged and zagged around walkers. Aaron ended up catching me again right around the 2 mile mark. Mile 2 in 11:05.

The third mile goes by the hotel where we stayed. Funny how until this year I hadn’t paid much attention to the geography to even notice how close we were to the course! It was raining a little bit steadier at this point, but with the visor on I only noticed it because I could see the raindrops hitting the puddles. It actually felt very nice. The third mile ends midway over the Clay Wade Bailey Bridge, which I think is the steepest of the three bridges. Whew, always good to have that behind me! Mile 3 in 10:43.

Aaron was still running with me at this point and I thought he was doing very well. We walked a water stop in this mile, just a quick break and back to running. I don’t remember much else in this stretch, it’s a pretty boring part of the race, I think: nicely warmed up but not starting to get beat up by the hills yet, so it’s easy to just zone out for a bit. Mile 4 in 10:25.

In the fifth mile, Aaron started to fade a bit. We took a couple more walk breaks, then he sent me on ahead. I was torn on whether to go or not, but I decided at that point we were both ready to run our own races. Mile 5 in 12:13.

As the race continued onto Gilbert, I knew that we’d soon be turning to head up to Eden Park. I find this to be the toughest part of the course, the three mile stretch of steady uphill takes a toll. I was feeling ok at this point, but still trying to just take it pretty easy. Just before finishing the 6th mile, the course crosses over Eggleston. As we approached the bridge, we could see the leaders of the half as they were finishing mile 13 of the course! I said something to another runner about how sick that was as we admiringly watched them run by. Wow, I just can’t grasp how a person can run at that pace! Mile 6 in 10:34.

I decided this was a good point to take a gel since we would be hitting some hills soon. I had a tough time getting the gel down, but over about 5 minutes got the job done. I had taken another extended walk break in the process, more out of mental fatigue than anything. I need to work on not getting so wrapped up in how tired I’ll be climbing that hill! The crowds as you turn onto Eden Park Drive are some of the most enthusiastic on the course, so that provides a nice boost as you hit the steepest part of the course. Whew, too bad that I can’t bottle their energy for the whole hill! Mile 7 in 11:56.

I thought that I walked a good bit of this part of the course, but when I reviewed the Garmin data, it looks like I was surprisingly consistent. I don’t have any idea how, I really don’t. Granted it wasn’t fast, but when I compare it to last year’s race I was running it at almost the same exact pace through this part. Considering how crappy this cold had me feeling, that surprises me. We run by a wonderful overlook that gives us a view of the city and river below, almost at the top of the hill now and that provides a boost. Mile 8 in 11:13.

At this point, you aren’t completely done with the hills but the steepest parts are behind you so it’s easier to hold a pace. I know that the downhill is still a mile or so away but it’s getting closer! I feel my legs’ relief at the change in the grade, the fun is going to begin soon. Mile 9 in 10:37.

My feet are really starting to hurt, especially the outer toes of my right foot. It’s definitely worse on an uphill grade, so I walk a short bit on one uphill. The pain is pretty intense, but it almost goes away completely on level to downhill portions. I realize that the exact same thing happened during the Heart Mini in March. I’m not sure why, but I guess it’s just a conditioning issue. I’m glad that we’re almost done with the uphill, because I think the pain would be horrid if I had to keep going uphill. Mile 10 in 10:55.

Miles 11 through the finish are almost a continuous downhill. At this point, I probably have a permanent grin on my face as I visualize my feet turning into wheels. It makes me absolutely giddy, I love LOVE this part! I really feel good running now, in spite of my faster pace, it feels very comfortable. Mile 11 in 9:40.
Although the next mile is still downhill, the grade isn’t quite as steep. This is also the point where there is a short dogleg and for some reason, I hate that little portion. There’s just something a little discouraging about running all the way out just to have a hairpin turn and go back the way you’d come! Mile 12 in 9:53.

Time to bring it in home—last mile, give it all you got! I find out that I ain’t got much left, but I’m working with what I’ve got. I am definitely ready to quit, so I keep reminding myself that I can rest in just a few minutes but for now, keep running. It feels like I’m barely running, yet my Garmin tells me otherwise. Mile 13 in 9:50.

Ugh, last little bit! Keep going, crowds are cheering, my legs are really burning, just go, go, go… I hear a surge in the cheers and realize there is a marathoner coming up on my left. Holy cow, that man is MOVING! I don’t even pretend to hold pace with him, but I see a few other folks showboating and trying. And failing. Ha! I think he was the second place marathoner, absolutely mind-boggling how fast he flew by me! My Garmin is off on the mile splits, so it shows that I ran another 0.28 miles past 13. Last 0.28 mi in 2:42 (9:34/mi).

I get across the Finish Swine (ha), get my medal, grab a cup of water and head back so I can wait for Erin and Aaron to finish. Erin comes in, I madly scream her name but I’m drowned out by the rest of the crowd. A few more minutes, and here comes Aaron! Yes, I admit to getting a bit teary as I saw him approach but then I was too busy screaming my fool head off trying to get his attention. He didn’t hear me, so I took off running along the sidewalk and got to him just after he crossed the last timing mat. I’m so very proud of him! His training was hampered by health issues and he so easily could have changed his entry to a shorter race. I think that’s what I would have done, but he pulled it all together and got the job done!

My official time was 2:23:26. I’m actually shocked that I was only a minute off of last year’s time. While I ran the first half 2 minutes slower than last year, I ran the second half a minute faster than last year. It’s admittedly frustrating that I got sick when I did, but I guess that I’m still proud that I was able to do what I did. Since I wasn’t able to run the Pig the way I’d wanted to (healthy), I signed up to run the Geist Half on the drive home. I’ve got three weeks to get recovered and ready to go. I’m writing this report up on Friday and I am just now feeling good enough to try another run. The cold did move into my chest and Monday through Wednesday were pretty miserable. I think I’m on the mend, now to get ready for the next race!