When I tell people that I ran four half marathons this year, three of them in a 29 day period, they think I’m (at least) half crazy. Thanks to a fellow Betsy over at Eat Drink Run Woman, I’ve learned that I’m not just half crazy… I’m a Half Fanatic!
That’s right, those nutbars over at Marathon Maniacs have a little sister club devoted to my favorite distance, the half marathon! And thanks to my running streak this spring, I qualify as a Neptune-level Fanatic, #249, to be specific.
I encourage my fellow trisko enthusiasts to join up so that we have more brothers and sisters in blue at upcoming races.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Run, Run, Rudolph
It’s definitely cold outside her in the tundra known as the Midwest, but I refuse to let that keep me from getting a run in. Naturally, I’m not going to do anything extreme and foolish like run on a treadmill. Much better to cover myself in layers and layers of clothes, yank some Stabilicers over my shoes, and suck it up.
Last night, I was reminded of another benefit to running out in the cold: Christmas lights!
I meandered all through my neighborhood, running down unfamiliar streets, and enjoying the beauty of houses all lit up for Christmas. I like driving around looking at lights, but this was even nicer than a quick drive-by.
As runners, we see a world that non-runners don’t. This is just one of many examples.
Last night, I was reminded of another benefit to running out in the cold: Christmas lights!
I meandered all through my neighborhood, running down unfamiliar streets, and enjoying the beauty of houses all lit up for Christmas. I like driving around looking at lights, but this was even nicer than a quick drive-by.
As runners, we see a world that non-runners don’t. This is just one of many examples.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Circuit
One of my 2009 goals was to get more involved in my local running community. So, when I saw in our club newsletter that you could compete in something called the "race circuit," and that it was free, I figured why not?
Here's how the circuit works:
I ran a lot of races this year, but not all of them were on our "circuit." I kept track casually of how I was doing, but didn't think about it too much. It turns out, I ran enough races to count - at our club meeting last night, I got second place in the women 30-39 group! And for my efforts, I scored a medal with our club's logo on it, and even better, a t-shirt! A red t-shirt, with all of the races listed on the back - in a technical fabric! I cannot wait to wear it out for a run.
Here's how the circuit works:
- Run a 4Km to 4Mi you will earn 10 pts. for participating.
- Run a 8Km to Half Marathon you will earn 15 pts. for participating.
- Run a Marathon or greater distance you will earn 20 pts. for participating.
- Run in a Duathlon you will earn 15pts. for participating.
- Run a Relay Leg or part of a Duathlon Team you will earn 10 pts for participating
- Volunteer for any event on the circuit and not run in it you will earn 10 pts.
- Participate in CBRC Club Races you can earn double points.
- Tie-Breakers will be determined by the most volunteer points.
I ran a lot of races this year, but not all of them were on our "circuit." I kept track casually of how I was doing, but didn't think about it too much. It turns out, I ran enough races to count - at our club meeting last night, I got second place in the women 30-39 group! And for my efforts, I scored a medal with our club's logo on it, and even better, a t-shirt! A red t-shirt, with all of the races listed on the back - in a technical fabric! I cannot wait to wear it out for a run.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Last race of 2009
I often find myself grateful that I'm a runner. That feeling was especially strong last week, when I ran my last race of 2009.
Especially because that race wasn't an actual sanctioned race, but more accurately, a race through the airport.
I'd just finished a challenging, but hopefully productive trip to New Jersey for work and was eager to get home. The meeting ran over, so I missed my first flight and got booked on a different airline. The flight from Newark to Chicago was delayed... and delayed... and delayed.
Slowly but surely, that 45 minute layover evaporated.
The pilot announced that many flights leaving Chicago were also delayed, so "All bets are off." As soon as we landed, I checked the flight to Moline on my phone and saw that, sure enough, it was delayed, too.
I had a chance.
I got off the plane as quickly as possible, groaned when I saw that I needed to get to a far away concourse, and started running.
I ran through Ohare airport in a long skirt, tall boots, and pearls, with my heavy laptop bag on my back. I ran past legions of amused looking travelers, along moving walkways, and up escalators.
All told, I ran a distance of probably a mile. It was really hard racing in my high heeled boots (feeling a rip in my stockings) with my zillion pound computer, and there was certainly no guarantee I'd make it before they closed the doors. I wanted to stop and walk, to just give up.
But because I'm a runner, I can do more than just physically move myself from Point A to Point B quickly. More importantly, I know how to keep going even when I want to quit. I know how to motivate myself and push through. I thought of Steve and Jack and how if I kept running, then maybe I'd see them that night, but that if I quit, I definitely would not.
You know how this story ends: I made it. I made it because I'm a runner.
Especially because that race wasn't an actual sanctioned race, but more accurately, a race through the airport.
I'd just finished a challenging, but hopefully productive trip to New Jersey for work and was eager to get home. The meeting ran over, so I missed my first flight and got booked on a different airline. The flight from Newark to Chicago was delayed... and delayed... and delayed.
Slowly but surely, that 45 minute layover evaporated.
The pilot announced that many flights leaving Chicago were also delayed, so "All bets are off." As soon as we landed, I checked the flight to Moline on my phone and saw that, sure enough, it was delayed, too.
I had a chance.
I got off the plane as quickly as possible, groaned when I saw that I needed to get to a far away concourse, and started running.
I ran through Ohare airport in a long skirt, tall boots, and pearls, with my heavy laptop bag on my back. I ran past legions of amused looking travelers, along moving walkways, and up escalators.
All told, I ran a distance of probably a mile. It was really hard racing in my high heeled boots (feeling a rip in my stockings) with my zillion pound computer, and there was certainly no guarantee I'd make it before they closed the doors. I wanted to stop and walk, to just give up.
But because I'm a runner, I can do more than just physically move myself from Point A to Point B quickly. More importantly, I know how to keep going even when I want to quit. I know how to motivate myself and push through. I thought of Steve and Jack and how if I kept running, then maybe I'd see them that night, but that if I quit, I definitely would not.
You know how this story ends: I made it. I made it because I'm a runner.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Race Report: Hawk Hustle
Saturday marked the third time I've run the Hawk Hustle. Every time it's happened, things haven't gone quite according to plan.
The first year, I hadn't planned to run a race at all that day. I signed up spontaneously and had a great time... but the hills kicked my butt.
The second year, I slacked off on my training and suffered for it. Despite a tough race, I came home with a second place trophy for my age group and promised myself that in year three, I'd be prepared.
That brings us to that third year. Thanks to the injury in my shin, I was lucky to be able to run at all, much less train hard on hills and rock it out like I'd planned to.
Still, I took the line feeling excited. I had a new plan: run a smart, tough race. Four miles would be the longest I'd run since my ill-fatedhalf marathon trisko. Knowing how challenging and hilly the course was, I planned to make judicious use of walk breaks. Short steep hills I'd tackle; long slow slopes would be broken up with walks. My finishing time? Irrelevant. I just wanted to get through the race.
Ready? Go!
The first mile featured a few giant downhills, which I used to build up momentum and zip up some uphills. It was one of the easier miles of the course, so I ran the whole thing in a surprisingly fast 9:05.
Shortly after the first mile marker was one of those gradual uphills. I did a brisk walk in the middle for 9:36. It must have been a short break.
By the third mile, the course was getting tougher and I was getting more tired. A couple of walk breaks slowed me to 10:06.
Mile four is the toughest of the course and was also my slowest at 10:15. With half a mile to go, runners head up a very steep hill, and just when you think it's over, the trail turns and you're confronted with yet more trail. I leapfrogged back and forth with several other runners, all of us trying to find a sustainable pace.
When we were finally (and literally) out of the woods, I told myself that with just a short amount left - and all of it flat - it was time to reel in and pass some runners. My first target was a woman in a black jacket who had been in my bubble for the entire race. I passed her and worked hard to keep up my pace so she'd stay behind me. Then I went after a young woman whose purple shirt had been ahead of me for the entire race. Passed!
I crossed the finish line in 39:02. It was the slowest I've ever run the Hawk Hustle - and the proudest I've been. While I was injured, one of the things I missed most was being able to challenge myself physically. To do something that I knew would be hard, and to tackle it. Finally, I was able to do that again, to dig deep and to push through.
That feeling was a victory for me. As icing on the cake, my efforts were good enough for a second place age group trophy. That trophy will remind me of how good hard work feels.
The first year, I hadn't planned to run a race at all that day. I signed up spontaneously and had a great time... but the hills kicked my butt.
The second year, I slacked off on my training and suffered for it. Despite a tough race, I came home with a second place trophy for my age group and promised myself that in year three, I'd be prepared.
That brings us to that third year. Thanks to the injury in my shin, I was lucky to be able to run at all, much less train hard on hills and rock it out like I'd planned to.
Still, I took the line feeling excited. I had a new plan: run a smart, tough race. Four miles would be the longest I'd run since my ill-fated
Ready? Go!
The first mile featured a few giant downhills, which I used to build up momentum and zip up some uphills. It was one of the easier miles of the course, so I ran the whole thing in a surprisingly fast 9:05.
Shortly after the first mile marker was one of those gradual uphills. I did a brisk walk in the middle for 9:36. It must have been a short break.
By the third mile, the course was getting tougher and I was getting more tired. A couple of walk breaks slowed me to 10:06.
Mile four is the toughest of the course and was also my slowest at 10:15. With half a mile to go, runners head up a very steep hill, and just when you think it's over, the trail turns and you're confronted with yet more trail. I leapfrogged back and forth with several other runners, all of us trying to find a sustainable pace.
When we were finally (and literally) out of the woods, I told myself that with just a short amount left - and all of it flat - it was time to reel in and pass some runners. My first target was a woman in a black jacket who had been in my bubble for the entire race. I passed her and worked hard to keep up my pace so she'd stay behind me. Then I went after a young woman whose purple shirt had been ahead of me for the entire race. Passed!
I crossed the finish line in 39:02. It was the slowest I've ever run the Hawk Hustle - and the proudest I've been. While I was injured, one of the things I missed most was being able to challenge myself physically. To do something that I knew would be hard, and to tackle it. Finally, I was able to do that again, to dig deep and to push through.
That feeling was a victory for me. As icing on the cake, my efforts were good enough for a second place age group trophy. That trophy will remind me of how good hard work feels.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Ready to Hustle?
Because my hurt leg survived last week's race, I've been thinking about attempting another cross country race: the Hawk Hustle. I've run it twice before, so I know that it's tough.
The first time I ran the race, I wasn't quite ready for how hilly and challenging it would be. I ended up adjusting my goal times on the fly. I also had a great time.
The next year was no easier. I slacked off on training before the race and wound up struggling through it. However, it was a small race on a day with lousy weather, so I ended up with a second place age group trophy!
This year will probably be my toughest experience and slowest time. Since I messed up my leg, the longest distance I've run was two miles, and that was with walk breaks. Could I really do a four mile race that's tough when I'm not coming off an injury? Should I just sign up as a walker and figure I'd place in the top ten and get a trophy?
I decided to do more research and actually run the course. Yesterday, I lined up pretty much where the starting line was and traced the course as best I could. I got it mostly right- there were some hills and paths that I remembered, but I ended up short on distance, so I obviously cut things too much.
I ran at a relaxed pace and took walk breaks, but it was still tough. The hills taxed me, both up and down. I figured if I did decide to run the race, it would be slow going; walking would be relatively easy.
At the same time, I couldn't imagine myself not running it. It has been really taxing to not be able to run. Going out and tackling something difficult would feel great - no matter what my finishing time is.
I started forming a strategy, looking for long flat stretches to run, downhills that would allow me to coast the uphills, and steep hills to use as walk breaks.
Before I knew it, I was signing up for the race and clicking "Runner."
The first time I ran the race, I wasn't quite ready for how hilly and challenging it would be. I ended up adjusting my goal times on the fly. I also had a great time.
The next year was no easier. I slacked off on training before the race and wound up struggling through it. However, it was a small race on a day with lousy weather, so I ended up with a second place age group trophy!
This year will probably be my toughest experience and slowest time. Since I messed up my leg, the longest distance I've run was two miles, and that was with walk breaks. Could I really do a four mile race that's tough when I'm not coming off an injury? Should I just sign up as a walker and figure I'd place in the top ten and get a trophy?
I decided to do more research and actually run the course. Yesterday, I lined up pretty much where the starting line was and traced the course as best I could. I got it mostly right- there were some hills and paths that I remembered, but I ended up short on distance, so I obviously cut things too much.
I ran at a relaxed pace and took walk breaks, but it was still tough. The hills taxed me, both up and down. I figured if I did decide to run the race, it would be slow going; walking would be relatively easy.
At the same time, I couldn't imagine myself not running it. It has been really taxing to not be able to run. Going out and tackling something difficult would feel great - no matter what my finishing time is.
I started forming a strategy, looking for long flat stretches to run, downhills that would allow me to coast the uphills, and steep hills to use as walk breaks.
Before I knew it, I was signing up for the race and clicking "Runner."
Sunday, November 08, 2009
The Greatest of All Time
Runners' World's December issue features "The Best of Running." It's a fun list, and I'm in agreement with almost everything listed there. Badwater as the hardest race? You bet - the more I read about that race, the less I ever want to experience it. Bananas as the ideal runner's food? Sure - portable, tasty, cheap, full of potassium. Pre as the coolest runner of all time? Shoot, that hardly even seems like an opinion; nobody's cooler than Pre.
But then, on page 70, they claim that Haile Gebrselassie is the greatest male distance runner of all time. Runners up (no pun intended)include Kenenisa Bekele, Frank Shorter, Roger Banister (debatable whether a miler counts as a distance runner, but no matter), and Jim Ryun.
Crazy talk!
Okay, yes, Haile is a great runner, with a pile of wins to his name. But he is not the greatest male distance runner of all time. That honor clearly belongs to Emil Zatopek.
In the 1952 Olympics, Zatopek won THREE gold medals: in the 5K, 10K, and his first ever marathon, which he entered at the spur of the moment. That is hard-core awesome. Even more awesome, he was generous with his fellow runners, offering training advice to men attempting to break a four-minute mile.
Emil Zatopek is the greatest male distance runner of all time.
But then, on page 70, they claim that Haile Gebrselassie is the greatest male distance runner of all time. Runners up (no pun intended)include Kenenisa Bekele, Frank Shorter, Roger Banister (debatable whether a miler counts as a distance runner, but no matter), and Jim Ryun.
Crazy talk!
Okay, yes, Haile is a great runner, with a pile of wins to his name. But he is not the greatest male distance runner of all time. That honor clearly belongs to Emil Zatopek.
In the 1952 Olympics, Zatopek won THREE gold medals: in the 5K, 10K, and his first ever marathon, which he entered at the spur of the moment. That is hard-core awesome. Even more awesome, he was generous with his fellow runners, offering training advice to men attempting to break a four-minute mile.
Emil Zatopek is the greatest male distance runner of all time.
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