Coffee Betsy

Race Report: Firecracker 10K

2010-07-20T07:43:00.002-05:00

In which I am forced to reconsider my goals...

The Firecracker Run has been a long-standing 4th of July tradition in the Quad Cities, but in recent years, the organization has left a bit to be desired. I was happy to hear that race directors extraordinaire Joe Moreno and Dale Manley were taking over - so much that I quickly allowed Dale to draft me into volunteering the day before.

Working packet pickup was a blast. I lucked into a shift populated by friends of mine from the Cornbelt Running Club, plus we were busy pretty much the entire time. That meant moving fast, tossing t-shirts to one another, and before I knew it, time to go home! As an added bonus, Dale had special volunteer shirts for us. They were just like the race t-shirts, only red instead of blue - and both shirts are technical fabric. SCORE.

I woke up bright and surly the next morning and managed to snag the same parking spot I've had every time I have run this race in the past. As the runners milled around, I could already feel the sweat beading on my forehead. It was going to be a hot day.

The 10K course at the Firecracker Run is hilly and challenging. And of course, since the race is held on the 4th of July, you can pretty much count on it being brutally hot and humid. This makes it a perfect tune-up race for the Bix 7. I was looking forward to seeing how it went. It was not a morning when I woke up confident I was going to rock things out, so I decided to largely ignore Paula Garmin and just run by feel, then see how it worked.

Sure enough, the race was tough. I have trained pretty well on hills, so I was always able to pass people going up and felt comfortable flying down. The heat took a toll on me, and I took water 3 or 4 times - more than I probably would under better circumstances.

The last mile is a downhill (hooray), followed by a straightaway, then a turn, then about a quarter mile to the finish line. I was feeling tired. As I turned the corner, I saw a guy I recognize from the track. I don't know his name, but I think of him as Hardcore Guy. Hardcore Guy will run track workouts wearing a weighted vest, run on the football field wearing a parachute for drag, then relax by running bleachers.

Hardcore Guy was looking tired. I ran up beside him and said, "Come on. Let's go." My intention was to get Hardcore Guy to finish a little stronger, but being hardcore and all, he picked up the pace, which got me to do the same, and we sprinted to the finish. Somehow we lost track of each other in the finishing corral, but I'd like to say thanks to Hardcore Guy for making me work a little harder.

Hardcore Guy helped me push the pace, but my time was nowhere near a PR: 58:14. I'm certainly not ashamed of this time, but it made me rethink my 1:03:00 goal for the Bix. This race was on a hot day and a hilly course, neither of which are excuses I could use to say my Bix pace could be better, since the conditions would likely be the same. 1:03:00 just might not be in the cards for me this year, and I need to be okay with that. I truly lost a lot of speed coming off of the stress fracture last fall, and it will take time and work to build it back up.

Other People's Running

2010-07-06T07:42:00.004-05:00

For the past few weeks, much of my running efforts have been focused on what can only be described as Other People's Running. I've ramped up the volunteer efforts this year, most recently dedicating myself to helping out with Cornbelt Running Club's kids' track program and volunteering at the Quad City Senior Olympics.

When I saw the list of volunteer opportunities for Racing Team members, kids' track was a natural choice for me. Go out and have fun with kids, one of whom could be Jack? You bet! The program is totally free, lasts six weeks, and introduces kids, aged six (plus bonus 5-1/2 year old Jack) to ten to the fun that is track and field.

Some of my fellow volunteer coaches have been focusing on a single event, but I've been roving with the littlest kids, answering their questions and keeping them corralled. Every week starts with a 1/4 mile warm-up... and a lecture from me about what a warm-up is. Specifically, that we do not attempt to kill the warm-up by racing as fast as we can around the track; that it is not a race, and that in fact, it would be smarter to wait until we actually are racing before putting in such efforts, and that if you are first around the track during the warm-up, nobody will be impressed. Most of the kids listen to me, but there are a few who tear off as fast as they can, then inevitably find themselves walking on the back straightaway and dramatically collapse at the end, claiming to be too spent to stretch. I have no sympathy for that and remind them that they should have listened.

After stretching, it's time for the entertainment that is a bunch of little kids attempting to do the hurdles. The club has special kid hurdles, an ingenious invention of squared off swimming noodles with little pegs that attach to traffic cones. Almost to a person, the girls are much better at hurdles than the boys, far more capable of leaping gracefully over them and less likely to crash into them over and over again. Jack is a crasher. There's usually a lot of setting hurdles back up after he tries it. The good news is, he has fun with it and seems to be getting better.

Next, we do some running. One week, the focus was on sprints, and the coach spent a lot of time showing the kids how to get into proper starting position - a feat that intimidated me so much that, when I ran track, I was always grateful to not be a sprinter so I didn't have to worry about my starting stance. The next week, we had the kids try some distance running, with an 800. The woman in charge of running was not so sure the little kids would be able to make that distance. I offered to bring up the rear to make sure everybody was okay. One of the kids, who is, shall we say, not a good listener, decided after about 50 meters that he was "too tired" to continue. He did, however, have the energy to turn cartwheels. I told him to knock it off and run; luckily he did.

After running, it's time for either relays or long jump. The kids have been incredibly excited about relays. Something about the baton is just cool to them. They also love the long jump, and seem to be totally unaware that most of them suck at it. I have taken to giving them some gentle coaching, like, "That was good, and I think that next time, you can do even better if, instead of stopping when you get to the place where you jump, you ran up until that spot, then jumped."

The best part of working with these kids is their absolute enthusiasm. "Can we please run another lap around the track?" Well, okay, if you were good. Jumping into a pit of sand? Never tried it, but bring it on. I see a few kids who have some real talent - there is a girl who is only 4-1/2 but can rock out the hurdles like nobody's business, and my boy can churn out 800s all day long with a smile on his face. But even if I'm not coaching the next Usain Bolt or Kara Goucher, my hope is that I am working with a bunch of people who will sign up for several 5Ks a year, finish in the middle of the pack, and have fun with it. I just want them to love running.

I want them to be just like the people who competed in the Senior Olympics. The Senior Olympics is a very cool event, held all over the world, in which people who are 50 years and older (40 for track and field events) compete in a variety of athletic events. We are talking everything from a 5K road race to basketball free-throws to kicking a soccer ball for accuracy. I intended to volunteer for the 5K, but thanks to the charm of the race director, I wound up helping out with the triple jump, the softball throw, and the discus as well.

As a runner, despite having competed in track for six years, I spent almost no time watching field events. The men who did the triple jump had to explain the rules to me and were really nice about helping me measure the distances. I have never tried the triple jump, but let me tell you, it looks hard. I admire anyone who is willing to attempt it, no matter what their age, but the men who were over 70 and decided to give it a shot just for fun are incredibly cool in my book. And if you are over the age of 20 and own your own discus? That's badass.

The softball throw moved the athletes to different points on the field, at different angles and distances, where they attempted to toss the ball into a target. I learned that a couple of the women competing had played professional baseball in the All-American Girls League, as seen in the movie A League of Their Own. These women managed to be professional athletes during the time before Title 9. They are heroes to all women in sports - and they are still competing. Awesome.

Working on Other People's Running has given more focus to my own running and my goals. Yes, I would like to put some new PR's on the side of my blog. But more than that, I want to have fun with my running like the kids do, and I want to keep it up for my entire life, like the athletes in the Senior Olympics do. I want to love running forever.

Race Report: Race for the Cure

2010-06-22T07:43:00.003-05:00

In which I log my first DNS...

My husband Steve and I have been running Race for the Cure together for years. The race always falls some time near or on our anniversary, so it's a great time to spend together. I love the camaraderie of the atmosphere and am happy to run for such a good cause. This race would mark our fourth Quad Cities Race for the Cure, a number I can easily tally by counting the t-shirts in my head (pink and blue, pink and green, pink and ugly puce color, pink circle).

It was raining before we even left the house, and did not let up even a little bit all morning. Race for the Cure always attracts new runners and first-timers, and I was afraid that people would see the weather and stay home. Happily, that was not the case. The streets were crowded with eager runners, many of them in pink.

But the rain was the least of our problems: there was also lightning. The start time was postponed, but finally, volunteers with bullhorns directed everyone into the iwireless center. There, the race director announced that the race would have to be cancelled. He explained that after every flash of lightning, they were required to wait 30 minutes. After the last one, even if there was no more, they would no longer have the police support required for everyone to run safely. It was disappointing, but clearly, the only choice.

Steve and I took about a half mile run to get a cup of coffee. There's always next year.

Race Report: Mustang Madness 5K

2010-06-22T07:33:00.002-05:00

In which I survived the heat... kind of

Yep, I am way behind on my posting, and I need to get into what's going on, but I'd hate to leave out a race report!

A few weeks ago, determined to feel better about my unfortunate experience in Madison, I signed up for the Mustang Madness 5K. It was on a Friday evening, which is novel, but the biggest appeal was that it was a cross country race! Cross country is always way more fun than running on a road or track, so I eagerly signed up.

The night of the race, it was brutally hot and humid. I knew a PR was not in the cards for me. That instinct was cemented when I took a warm-up on the course and saw how hilly and challenging it was going to be. I always say that if I'm not going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time, so I set out to do just that.

All of us lined up on a big white line painted on the grass. I can't tell you how many times I found myself in that very position during high school cross country meets, and it was a thrill to do it again.

The course wound through trails in the woods, around sports fields, and back through the woods again. Although it was well staffed with volunteers, there were no mile markers, so I had no idea how far I'd run or how I was doing - especially because my beloved Paula Garmin was lost.

The hot weather really took a toll on me - and on my fellow runners as well. I saw plenty of people, including some who I knew were strong runners, taking walk breaks. I did the same, because just slowing down didn't seem like it would be enough. I even took advantage of the water stop, something I never do in a 5K. The water was cold and tasted amazing.

After what felt like an eternity, I emerged from the woods, finish line in sight. Finally! I kicked to the line, sure that I'd finish in around 30 minutes. I was surprised to see the number 27 on the clock. When I wasn't walking, I must have been running a lot faster than I'd realized.

After the race, people hung out, ate bananas, and generally talked about how challenging and sweaty the race was. It was tough, but I'd absolutely do it again.

Chasing Awesome

2010-06-02T07:36:00.003-05:00

Spring - and the first pikermi ("half marathon") season of the year is officially behind me. It was really a mixed bag for me. After injuring my leg and being unable to walk after last fall's Quad Cities Half Marathon, my main goal for the spring was to run smart and not re-injure myself. I managed that, but not much else. Brutal allergies made the Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon a brutal experience. We all know how things went for me in Madison. The only saving grace of the season (well, besides not breaking my leg) came with a solid 2 hour effort at the Quad Cities Distance Classic

In short, I survived. I didn't get hurt. But I didn't do anything truly amazing, either. I can't help but notice that all of the PRs there on the side are from 2009 or later. I need a new one. I need to come up with a big audacious goal and just go for it. So here it is:

I want to run the Bix in 63:00.

I considered making my goal one hour or less, but honestly, on a crowded and hilly 7 mile course, that might be awfully hard to pull off. 9:00 splits will also be hard to pull off, but I feel more confident I can do it.

Training officially starts today. I'm going to rock some hill training, a lot more speed work than I did this spring, and smart eating.

Can I do it? Maybe, maybe not. But I know that I need to try. It's time to chase down some Awesome.

Race Report: Madison Half Marathon

2010-06-01T06:36:00.003-05:00

In which I am thoroughly humbled...

The Madison Half Marathon was a day of firsts for me.

First DNF

First ride on the SAG wagon

First trip to the medical tents

First field-style IV

What happened? I thought that since I race 13.1 every chance I get, that it wouldn't be a big deal for me to run one - even under bad circumstances. I was wrong.

I woke up that morning after a bad night's sleep, with my stomach cramping, feeling lousy. I felt so bad that I could only eat a few bites of my breakfast. Still, I got dressed and ready for the race, despite feeling sick and knowing that it was going to be an unseasonably hot and humid day.

Not smart.

Steve and my uncle dropped me off at the starting line and I was immediately sick. Steve came and talked to me, basically waiting to hear why in the blue hell I would still want to run the race. I convinced him that I was "probably okay," and that I actually felt better after having thrown up. This is sometimes the case - maybe I could have risked going to the office that day, but again, running 13.1 miles in really hot conditions? Not my best decision.

I tried to soak in the festive atmosphere. The marathoners started their race 20 minutes prior, and the course took them through the area where we 13.1'ers were gathered. That was very cool - watching them run was inspiring and exciting, and naturally we cheered for them like crazy. After they passed, it was time to line up.

I still didn't feel good and vowed to race carefully - run slowly, take walk breaks as needed, and get in plenty of fluids. I had already taken a walk break before the first mile and was running at the edge of the course in case I had to duck off to get sick. Not a good sign.

At mile 2, I wanted to switch from sipping on the Gatorade I had in my Fuel Belt to water. It was hot, I was feeling rough, and grabbing two cups of water felt like a good choice. The water made my stomach feel sloshy and even worse than it already did. A bad cramp seized me, and I found a semi-secluded parking lot where I tried unsuccessfully to get sick.

Running made my stomach feel worse, and I was starting to feel weak from the stomach cramps, lack of food, and the heat (already approaching 80 degrees before 9:00 AM). I made a tough decision: walk to the next aid station, then drop out of the race.

I have never, ever quit a race in the 25 years I have been a runner. It felt absolutely terrible to have to say, "No, I cannot do this. I am not strong enough, and I cannot fight through this. I cannot finish what I started, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot do this thing I have been looking forward to for months." It sucked, and I felt miserable... and still sick.

I saw a volunteer on a bike and flagged him down like I was hailing a cab. I told him that I was sick and couldn't finish the race. He calmly led me to a shady area, and as he was about to radio for support, a marathoner joined us. Her name was Tiffany, and she was dehydrated and needed to drop out as well. Volunteer Steve gave me cold water and Tiffany a bottle of Gatorade from his saddle bag and assured us that there was no shame in dropping out on a day like that.

A few minutes later, a medic on a bike joined us. He said he'd wait for the SAG wagon with us, so the bike volunteer moved on to see who he could help next. The medic checked our blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. He found my pulse to be a little weak and Tiffany's a little fast, so he kept checking us to make sure we weren't deteriorating.

While I wasn't trying unsuccessfully to be sick, I talked to Tiffany. As you can imagine, it was a bonding experience. She was running her first marathon and had been kicking ass before she started to feel so terrible, running at a 3:15 finishing pace and hoping for a BQ. As you can imagine, she was heartbroken at having to quit. I assured her that she could still do it, just not that day. It was the first hot day we've had, and not having trained in hot weather made the race much harder than it could have been. I suggested she look at a fall marathon for her BQ and hope for better weather. There will be other races.

The SAG wagon arrived after an hour. The driver apparently had been quite busy picking up fallen runners around the course and was having trouble navigating all of the roads closed for the race. She finally got us to the medical tent.

At this point, I was feeling really bad. I was hot, dizzy, weak, and my stomach was killing me. I was also depressed - the medical tent was right at the finish line, so I had to watch runners crossing the finish line looking happy and collecting their finishing medals. I would not get and did not deserve one of those medals and would not get to feel the amazing accomplishment that comes every time you cross the finish line.

In the tent, doctors and nurses quickly got me settled in. The gave me a bottle of water, put a bag of ice under my neck, checked my vital signs, and asked me questions about how I was feeling. Dr. Smith asked how long it had been since I was sick (hours at that point) and since I'd had anything to drink (also hours at that point). He said I needed to get some fluids in me and suggested that I either try drinking some water, or they'd just give me an IV. I said I'd try for the water and see how it went. He agreed that was a good decision.

Like so many things for me that day, that didn't work out for me. A few minutes later, I was dramatically sick. Dr. Smith calmly said, "Okay, an IV it is," and sent a nurse over to hook me up. Not surprisingly, she had trouble getting a vein because I was so dehydrated and admitted that there was more blood than she would have liked. My race team singlet now has blood stains to remind me of this day.

The IV had me starting to feel better. Other things that made me feel better were learning that the course conditions were so bad that the race director called the race 4 hours in. That lots of other runners had to quit as well. And the point that one of the doctors made, which was that although it was unfortunate that I couldn't finish this race, what was really important from a health standpoint wasn't the race, but all of the training I'd put in.

With the hydration of two IV bags came some clarity. I should never take my ability to run - at any distance - as a given. No matter how well conditioned I am, some days my body is just not going to cooperate, and I have to be able to accept that. And the reason I can accept that is that any single race is not the be all, end all of my running experience. As the doctor said, what's important from the point of view of my health is my training. I love the challenge and accomplishment of racing, but there will always be another race. Tiffany will finish her first marathon, and someday, she will qualify for Boston. I will race my next pikermi ("half marathon") in a few months, and when I do, I'll get to the line feeling healthy and knowing that I can finish the race strong.

Steve arrived to take me home just as I was realizing my other important lesson: the doctors who volunteer at medical tents at major races are, across the board, really hot. I am grateful for the humility and perspective this lousy experience has given to me. I am grateful that my husband will be there for me to hold my hand when I'm feeling sick. I am grateful to the volunteers who helped me - the guy on the bike, the medic, the woman who drove the SAG wagon, the nurse who gave me my IV, Dr. Hot Asian Guy, Dr. Abercrombie and Fitch Model, and Dr. Seth Meyers Only Even Hotter. I will be back, and I will be smarter.

Volunteer Report: Wild 5

2010-06-01T06:22:00.002-05:00

I debated whether or not to run the Wild 5 5K race on Saturday. Yes, it was just a 5K, and yes, it was sponsored by my favorite running store, and yes, race team members were encouraged to run. But at the same time, it was the day before the Madison Pikermi ("half marathon"), so racing seemed like a bad idea. Then it hit me: I'd volunteer instead! I emailed the race director and asked him to put me to work. He said, "Thanks. Please come at 6:30 AM to help with registration."

D'oh!

I fueled up on coffee and arrived just in time. I worked with a fellow race team member on passing out packets for pre-registered runners. It's a simple job - get their race number from the alphabetized stack and hand them a packet, t-shirt, and tell them to go outside to get their chip. There were about 400 pre-registered runners, so it went quickly. People were in high spirits, thanks to the beautiful weather. Almost suddenly, our shift was over. We looked out the window and saw the race begin. Sweet: no line for the bathroom!

One of the race organizers asked if we had time to stick around and clip chips - they did not have enough people show up to help. I've clipped chips before, and it's a fun job. You get a folding chair in the shade, a milk crate for runners to put their foot on, a pair of clippers, and a bucket to put the chips in. The fun part is that you get to watch every single runner cross the finish line. We saw the winner, who blazed through, then immediately got bottles of water for the guys who finished second and third. We saw fights to the finish, groups of friends running together, and a guy pushing a jogging stroller with two pretty big kids in it. And we saw the very last finisher, an overweight teenage girl who clearly worked her butt off out there, looked tired and hot, and still picked up the pace coming to the finish line. I congratulated her on her strong finish and she said that she had just run her first 5K. I am happy that I played a small part in that experience.

Three hours of volunteering flew by in no time. I was finished by 9:30, and I racked up some good running karma. Great way to start the day!

Race Report: Imagination Library 5K

2010-05-27T06:34:00.004-05:00

In which I fail to kick ass or take names...

There were several reasons for me to run the Imagination Library 5K (a race that took place nearly two weeks ago, thus making me hugely late with this race report). I hadn't raced since the Distance Classic and I don't like to go too far between races, especially when there are so many to choose from in the spring. There was a kids' race, and it would be fun if Jack and I both raced. It was a pretty day. It's in my running club's race circuit and I really, really want to win an award again like I did last year. But the most important reason was this:

I really needed a run.

An incredibly busy week of work had me burning the midnight oil, then waking up early to burn the... morning oil? My candle burned at both ends, it would not last the night, but oh my foes and oh my friends, it made a lovely light. Poorly executed metaphors and literary references aside, I was working my ass off, and consequently had not been running in a week. I needed to get out there, open it up, and feel the burn.

Steve, Jack, and I arrived at Bass Street Landing, a lovely area in downtown Moline overlooking the Mississippi. Jack was thrilled at the contents of his goody bag, which included the usual t-shirt, plus an assortment of random stuff that will please a 5-year old - a ruler, pencils, a bookmark, and a sticker. He was even more happy to see that they were setting up a bounce house. I got warmed up and the boys found a good spot to watch the race.

I blazed through the first mile way too fast. At my next 5K (probably the June Bug Jog because - you guessed it, it's in the circuit), I swear to Yoda I am going to make myself run a negative split. Once again in this race, I completely killed the first mile, then faded. Not helping matters, I started having stomach cramps, motivating me to pick up the pace a bit just so I could be done. That's never a good sign.

I worked really hard in this race, and as I was approaching the finish line, really hoped that my efforts would be rewarded. A PR or an age group award would make my suffering justified. My finishing time? 25:10 - not nearly good enough for a PR (though my best time this spring, beating my time at Steve's Old Time Tap Spring Chaser by 34 seconds). Then I discovered that the age groups were in 10 year increments, not five, so I was in the 30-39 category. That put me sixth in my age group. I would have been second if it were 35-39, but that's not the way they gave awards at this race... and even if it had, they only gave out hardware to the first place winners in each age group. I consoled myself with a breakfast sandwich and a banana from the post-race spread.

Jack ran his 1/2 mile race in a state of utter delight. He grinned through the whole thing and triumphantly told me that he passed an 8-year old. Then he scored a finisher's medal and another goody bag, this one containing a great book. Post-race, Jack bubbled over with joy, talking about how much he loved running and wondering when his next race would be.

As always, I can learn from the little guy. If you look at the clock or at my place on the leader board, my race wasn't what I wanted. But was that what I wanted most? Nope. What I wanted most was to put on my shoes and run hard - and that's exactly what I did.

Race Report: Quad Cities Distance Classic

2010-05-10T07:18:00.003-05:00

Mother's Day was the third time I have run the Quad Cities Distance Classic, and the race has always been good to me. In 2008, it was my first ever pikermi (race of 13.1 miles, for the uninitiated), and despite some of the worst running weather nature could invent, gave me a time of 2:05 that made me very proud. In 2009, I had a perfect running day. Everything came together for me, and I ran a PR of 1:56:51.

I had high hopes for this year's race. I have just come off running a hard-earned personal worst of 2:10 at the Lincoln Memorial Race and knew I could do better. If I got to the starting line healthy and rested, I should be able to blast that bad time away.

Then, work heated up in a way that's very good, but very busy at the same time. I spent the past week waking up, grabbing a cup of coffee, and immediately sitting down at my computer to get in an hour or so of work before time to leave for the office. I'd work steadily, eating food of sporadic nutritional value, then come home and work some more.

Still I thought I had it under control (ish) until Thursday. I was in a meeting and had more and more changes piled up on the project I was working on, making it more and more clear that I was going to have to stay up very late to get it all done before going in to work on Friday. "That's fine," I told my boss, "But have you all forgotten that I have a race to run on Sunday? This is going to cost me a PR." Sure enough, Thursday saw me working all day, taking a break to volunteer to stuff race packets, then coming home to work until 2:00 AM, grab 4 hours of sleep, then work over coffee at 6:00. Not the best way to get ready for a big race.

I slept well on Friday and Saturday, then Sunday brought fantastic weather for running - cool and sunny. I ran over the course several times in my head, thinking about how I would tackle each section of the familiar miles, and picturing my goals.

Gold: 2:00
Silver: 2:05
Bronze: Beat the Lincoln Memorial time of 2:10

With a tough week of work tempered with ambition and good running weather, I felt reasonably assure of a silver - but set Paula Garmin to lead me to a gold.

Just like last year, and despite my repeatedly reminding myself to relax, I zipped through the first mile too fast, coming in at 8:35. In miles 2 and 3 I got on pace, clocking in 9:06 and 9:04.

I sped up at mile 4, thanks to a sweet downhill - 8:54 - and apparently let it carry me for another mile of 8:54.

The middle miles of the course take you from a dicey neighborhood to a park and a path by the river. It's scenic, but challenging for me. You don't have the thrill of "I just started" and have not yet hit the great "almost finished" feeling. I ran those miles trying to relax and focus.

Mile 6: 9:07
Mile 7: 9:11
Mile 8: 9:19
Mile 9: 9:11

It was at mile 9 that I started to feel really tired. With only four miles to go, I started bargaining with myself. I should absolutely hold on until 10, and I didn't want to run after 12. I decided that at mile 11, it would be okay to take a short walk break. Until then, I bribed myself with music and jelly beans.

When I got to the 11 mile mark, I started to walk and, as Ron Burgundy says in Anchorman, "I immediately regret this decision!" As soon as I started to walk, I realized in a way I hadn't before just how dead tired my legs were. If I had just kept running, I don't think it would have been so apparent. I picked a curve in the road ahead and willed myself to run again when I hit it.

Then I looked at my watch and realized that if I kept a reasonable pace, I could still finish in 2 hours.

"Just hold on," I told myself. "Just hold on."

I passed a volunteer who was clearly a fellow runner. Instead of just saying, "You look great! You're almost there!" he said, "Pick the person in front of you, pull on them, and pass them. Then get the next one." Hey, that's some advice I could use! I started to do just that when my iPod kicked on my favorite running song, "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers. It was perfectly timed, with the lyrics, "If you can hold on. If you can, hold on."

I held on. Up a short hill, around a corner, and through a parking lot, heading to the track, I held on. Once I got to the track, I knew I'd be fine.

Sure enough, Steve and Jack were right there, cheering for me like crazy. I handed Steve my Fuel Belt Batgirl Running Utility Belt and he grabbed it as smoothly as if we'd been practicing. Jack yelled, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY" and I turned the corner. There, my mom and stepdad were waiting, a very nice surprise.

I chicked a guy ahead of me and sprinted to the finish. Dale, the race director, called out my name as I crossed the line.

The result? 2:00:54. Gold medal finish!

Race Report: Cornbelt Running Club 24 Hour Run

2010-05-02T19:40:00.002-05:00

First things first: I did not run the Cornbelt Running Club 24 Hour Run. In fact, the idea of the race is really unappealing to me: run around a high school track for 24 hours. Whoever goes the farthest wins.

I have run two marathons, and for me, that's more than enough challenge. I have no desire to do an ultra (and I recognize that this is the kind of statement that may bite me in the butt later). And if I did run an ultra, I could more imagine doing some kind of amazing trail race, where the scenery and the terrain change. Over and over around the track sounds like some kind of torture.

But you know, who am I to think any idea my fellow runners could come up with is nutty? There are plenty of runners and non-runners who think my choices are crazy, so I do not judge those who relish the challenge of a 24 hour run.

In fact, when my running club asked for volunteers, not only did I sign up, but I signed up for the 10 PM to 1 AM shift. I figured any crowd support there might have been earlier in the day would be gone and that the runners could use some extra encouragement - and that it might be challenging for the volunteer coordinators to fill those spots.

So, instead of going to bed at my usual time, I drove to the track, with a bag packed full of blankets and warm clothes, as I had been warned that it gets cold during the night shifts.

My job was pretty simple. Every time one of the three runners I was assigned passed, I would note the time (16 hours, 30 seconds) on my sheet next to the lap number. I'd also call out the lap number to my runner, as in, "that's 205, Catherine!"

I quickly memorized what my runners looked like and what they were wearing. There was Catherine, a grey haired woman in a blue jacket, Heather, a young woman in an olive green shirt and white hat, and Pat, whose neon green arm warmers made him easy to spot. If a runner changed his shirt or put on his jacket, he'd actually tell his lap counter so we'd be sure not to miss him. The runners also let us know if they were taking a break - to eat, to go to the bathroom, or even to go take a nap - so that we would know it'd be a while before they were back around again. And when they returned to the track, they'd let us know that, too.

When my shift began, the runners were sixteen hours into the event. Most of them were walking (save the leaders, who both walked and ran), but were looking really strong and averaged a pace of 5 minutes per lap. Impressive.

I had heard that ultra events do not favor young men as much as shorter distances, and that proved to be the case at this race. The overall leader while I was there was a woman, with a 10 lap lead over her next closest competitor. With my own runners, Catherine was probably at least 25 years older than Heather, but had 15 laps on her. In an event like this, speed is a factor, but it's probably less important than smart race strategy (keeping hydrated, fed, and pacing yourself), endurance, and an immense mental toughness. Who knows - maybe Heather caught Catherine later. A lot could have happened in the six hours of the race that remained after I went home and went to sleep. (In fact, I've been checking my club's website all day, looking for results.)

While running around a track for 24 hours might sound tedious, it might also sound tedious to sit for three hours and watch someone else do it, but in fact, it was really a lot of fun. I got to know the other runners, too - Cindy, who was always smiling, Angela, who came all the way from Tennesee to run the race, Carl, whose doctor told him he couldn't run anymore and could only walk (something tells me that advice backfired on him), and the honeymooners (yes, really) who high-fived after every lap.

All of the lapcounters cheered for the milestones all of the runners hit. We'd go crazy for someone passing, say, the 75 mile mark. Any runner who makes 246 laps gets a plaque, so that was a big cause for celebration, followed by another at 247, when the runner completed 100K. By the time I left, Pat and Catherine had already earned their plaques, and Heather was well on her way.

About halfway through my shift, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in. I started thinking about what a cool challenge the race really is. Would I have the determination to keep going for so long? What an amazing test of mental resiliance and fortitude. But don't worry - I talked myself out of it by remembering how after my first marathon, I could barely walk for a week, to say nothing of the training hours it takes. Nope, for me, for now, I'm going to continue to kick ass at distances of 13.1 miles or less. But for anyone who's thinking about taking on the challenge of next year's 24 Hour Run? I'll see you between 10 PM and 1 AM next year. Now that I've seen this event in action, I wouldn't miss being a part of it.

Race Report: Steve's Old Time Tap Chaser

2010-04-26T07:23:00.003-05:00

This year, like last year, I ran the Steve's Old Time Tap Chaser knowing it would not be a good time to go for a PR. The race is held the Saturday before my running club has a training run for the Quad Cities Distance Classic Pikermi (half marathon) the very next morning. Making sure that run goes well is more important to me than a random 5K.

Said random 5K makes it extra easy for you to look upon it as a good time when, at packet pickup, they ask, "Do you want a wristband for free beer?" Friends, I did not go to college for four years and not know the correct answer to that one.

I arrived for the race and immediately found a friend/fellow racing team member to hang out with. She, too, was looking to just have an enjoyable run, as she is tapering for the Flying Pig Marathon. I also ran into a bunch of women who had run the Boston Marathon earlier in the week and weren't feeling their speediest... but like me, figured they might as well get in a 5K, especially since it counted as points towards the club's circuit (award which totals up race participation throughout the year). My sentiments exactly! So, we relaxed, talked about upcoming races, and compared outfits until it was time to start.

I cranked Lady Gaga and engaged in a mix between running, people watching, and trying to think of what kind of outfit Lady Gaga would wear to go running. I think it would be a ridiculous amount of spandex in an attempt to make herself as aerodynamic as possible and might cover her entire head.

Last year when I ran this race, the short but steep hill right after the first mile threw me, but this time I knew it was coming and zipped over it, passing a bunch of runners in the process and increasing my lead using the long downhill that followed it. I love knowing the course - and knowing that there was a straightaway for about half a mile leading up to the finish line where I could begin a nice, steady surge. Last year, I missed out on an age group award by literally one second. The other woman kicked past me to the finish line and I didn't fight her. I didn't know if I was in contention for an age group award this time around, but I did not want a repeat of that performance. I focused on every single woman in the field of vision in front of me and took them down in that last half mile. Looking at the results later, none of them were in my age group (the next woman was over a minute behind me), but hey - that kind of effort never hurts, right?

Finishing time: 25:44, two seconds faster than my 5K time from the previous week at Run for Renewal. Since Run for Renewal was hill-tastic and this one was pretty flat, I was definitely running more relaxed.

I met up with some friends after the race. Although I'd grabbed the wrist band the day before, I really didn't plan on having a beer at 9:30 in the morning. But then one of them said, "Come on, let's go get a beer." How could I stand up to such a persuasive argument as that? I am not made of stone, people.

Beer early in the morning after a run is good fun and leads to your listening to a couple of fellow runners discussing their upcoming plans to get boob jobs. Fascinating stuff, and a mystery to me as to why any female runner would want bigger boobs, which would just get in the way.

Better still, last year's race was redeemed when I found out that I came in third for my age group - and scored a pint glass for my efforts. What a good way to spend a Saturday!

Race Report: Run for Renewal

2010-04-19T07:20:00.002-05:00

Saturday morning was race day at Stately Wasser Manor, with my running a 5K and Jack running the 1/2 mile kids' race for Run for Renewal, a fundraiser for a charity called Project Renewal that helps at-risk kids. The Cub and I fueled up with a carb-tastic breakfast of doughnuts, then crew leader Steve drove us to the race. It was a beautiful day - cool, with not a cloud in the sky.

Jack's race was first, and he could not have been more excited. Steve asked if they could please run together, since Jack got to run with me at his last race. I grabbed the video camera and found a spot along the course with fellow race crew members Grandma and Grandpa so we could cheer. Steve reported that Jack followed his surge/relent/surge pattern throughout the entire 1/2 mile. Apparently even splits are not a goal that a five year old aspires to. When the race was over, Jack scored a frisbee and a coloring book. He was absolutely thrilled with himself, and I was proud of him too, especially seeing the big smile on his face as he sprinted to the finish.

I had never done Run for Renewal before, but saw the course described as "a couple of hills, but mostly flat." No problem, especially because I've been training on hills. I took off, with the goal of running comfortably hard and besting my most recent 5K time of 26:20 at the St. Patrick's Day 5K.

About half a mile into the race, we hit a wicked hill, just ridiculously steep. Spectators stood at the top, encouraging us, and saying that with this hill, the hardest part was over. Good, because that? Was not easy. Then I looked ahead and saw that those spectators had a different idea of what the hardest part might be than I did: another hill, not quite as vertically steep, but probably a quarter of a mile long. I powered through it.

The course wove through some more neighborhoods. Entertainment was provided by two women who lived on the course and yelled back and forth across the street together wondering what the hell all of these people were doing running down their road and that if it didn't stop soon, they would be calling the police.

I knew that the course formed a big loop, so I figured that the uphill would be followed at some point by a really sweet downhill. Sure enough, there was one, but then about half a mile from the finish line, inexplicably, there was another uphill. Gah!

Finally, I turned a corner. In my sights were not only the finish line, but also my race crew - and a guy I could potentially pass. We all know that no matter what, I would have done my best to chick that dude into the finish line, but with my family watching? That guy had no chance. I zipped past him for a strong finish of 25:45.

My splits were pretty good:

Mile 1: 8:25
Mile 2: 8:46 (apparently I was tired from those hills)
Mile 3: 8:07
Last little .1: 0:27 (5:44 pace, baby)

I will definitely run this race again. 5Ks are usually pancake flat, so I liked having the challenge of the hills. And I'm sure Jack would be happy to run for another frisbee.

Advice for the allergic runner

2010-04-15T21:39:00.002-05:00

I've heard it on the news several times: this spring is one of the worst seasons for allergies in recent memory. But if you suffer from seasonal allergies like I do, you didn't need a news broadcast to tell you this. It has been horrible... and being a runner makes it all the more challenging. After fighting winter weather for so long, I'm not about to shut myself in the house with the air conditioning on.

So, what is the allergic runner to do?

First and foremost, I am a big believer in the power of drugs. The first day the snow starts thinking about melting, that's when you need to start hitting the allergy pills. Claritin helps me a lot, but it does seem to take time for it to work its magic. For really bad days, I have back-up drugs that I take in addition to the Claritin. The key is that it has to be non-drowsy. If it says, "may cause drowsiness," that basically means, "will knock Betsy out." That doesn't work for my normal life, much less if I'm trying to run.

I also make sure I wash my hair as soon as possible after being outside. On heavy pollen days, I feel like my hair is a big Swiffer picking up as much of that muck as possible. I need to get clean to survive.

Usually, this is enough to save me, but this season, it hasn't been enough. I drugged up, de-Swiffered my hair, and was still in agony. I went through box after box of tissues and blew my nose so many times that my skin chapped. I couldn't sleep, and I just felt crappy all the time. I know it affected my time in Springfield. How could it not have?

Desperation led me to try something new. I got a NeilMed Sinus Rinse Kit. What's that? Well, it's not for the faint of heart. It's basically a squirt bottle that you fill with a salt water solution. Then, you lean over the sink, shoot the water out one nostril and feel it flow through the other, then repeat. It's not pretty, but you know? Damned if it doesn't work. If it seems weird, that's because it is. But I can't argue with results.

What about you? How do you survive seasonal allergies?

Inspiration is everywhere

2010-04-14T07:29:00.002-05:00

Running my personal worst time for a pikermi (also known as a half marathon) should have me feeling down. But the fact of the matter is, it felt great to get out there and race hard, no matter what the end result.

The experience has inspired me to train harder for my next pikermi, which is on May 9. I'm adding more speedwork, plus hills every other week. Predictably, this has been kicking my butt... though in a good way! Then on Sunday, I ran with my running club and totally rocked out a ten miler.

I'm being realistic - I know that a PR might not be in the cards for me this spring... but it could happen in the fall. I am just happy to be training hard.

In the meantime, I have a 5K to run on Saturday, one I haven't done before. There is a kids' race as well. I signed Jack up, since not only does my boy love to race, but it's free for kids. Can't say no to that. Jack's race is a half mile, which will be the longest he's raced before.

When I registered Jack, I had every confidence that he could run 1/2 a mile... but that it might not be pretty. Like any kid, Jack isn't exactly the best at pacing himself. He likes to go out running like a maniac, arms waving wildly, which is not your best long distance strategy.

So, last night, Jack and I went to the track together so that he could see what half a mile feels like. Sure enough, he raced out as fast as he could, then slowed down a lot after the first 100 meters. He'd slow down, then surge over and over again. At the end, I think he understood that for a distance that long, a bit of strategy is important.

We took a water break, then Jack begged me to let him run another half mile. I said okay, but only if he'd run my pace, then kick it in when I told him to, no sooner. Jack ran with me at a more comfortable speed, with a few reminders to run relaxed and strong. With 100 meters to go, Jack kicked it around the final curve, happily crossing the finish line.

Living with someone who takes such joy in running, how can I not feel excited about hitting the track myself? That's my plan for tonight, and I am going to love every minute of it.

Race Report: Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon

2010-04-04T15:58:00.005-05:00

Let's get this out of the way first of all: I ran the Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon (Pikermi/Trisko/13.1) in 2:10:31, scoring a new official Personal Worst at the distance... and am very happy with how I ran.

From the beginning, I knew this race wasn't going to be a PR. My stress fracture last fall scared me, and I've been very cautious about easing my way back into training. Not only have I been devoted to the 10% rule, but I have also been careful about not upping the intensity too much. I want to run faster, but more than anything, I want to run. If it takes a while to get back into the shape that let me PR last spring, so be it.

The week prior to the race, I hit another stumbling block: the first beautiful days of spring. You'd think this would be good news, but not for me. Those first beautiful days of spring mean my allergies are at their absolute worst. Despite drugging myself within an inch of my life, I couldn't breathe, couldn't sleep, and felt dry headed and miserable for the four days before the race. It was to the point that I was blowing my nose so often, it started to chafe. (FYI: Body Glide helps with this, too.)

So, let's just say that when I toed the line, I wasn't feeling like a million bucks. I felt like about a buck fifty. Instead of having a time goal, I decided to have an effort goal. And that goal was based on my new hat. Check it out:

It's from Endorphin Warrior (not compensating me in any way for promoting them, not that I'd mind if they did!) and I love it. The message is RELENTLESS but because of the colors of the letters, it also tells you to RELENT LESS. I was determined in this race to give it everything I had and to relent less.

So, the race is in Springfield, Illinois, and pretty much everything is all about Abraham Lincoln. The race course goes past a number of Lincoln sites - the Lincoln home, the new library and museum, the old and new State Capitol buildings, and Lincoln's tomb. An actor portraying Lincoln started us off with an in-character speech, then a group dressed as Union soldiers fired their rifles to start. The course was very pretty and well marked. It got challenging at the end as the formerly flat course turned hilly. I started to get worn out, but I kept remembering my goal: RELENT LESS.

When I crossed the finish line, I knew I'd left everything I had on the course. 2:10:31 was my slowest ever time, but it was also the absolute best I could have done on that day, and that is an accomplishment I can be proud of.

To mark my accomplishment? A finisher's medal shaped like a giant penny. What better momento could you ask for?

Runner Girl - Yoga Girl Team-Up

2010-04-02T15:54:00.001-05:00

It all started with a dare.

My friend Daina is a yoga instructor. She posted a Facebook status update enthusing about how she helped someone in one of her classes get into a downward facing dog. I loved her excitement about it, but said that no way could I do it – my body does not bend.

Daina confidently said that with her help and some hard work, I could do it… but that she could never run like I do. I responded that with my help and some hard work, she could run a 5K.

“All right,” Daina said. “You’re on.”

And with that, the Runner Girl – Yoga Girl Team-up was born.

Last night, Daina took the first step and went running with me. She lives about a mile away from me, so I ran over to her house to pick her up. Daina, dressed in shorts and a skull t-shirt, looked absolutely adorable… and nervous. The last time she’d done any running at all was in high school, when they forced us to run a mile for time – and she hated it. I said that she probably hated it because she tried to go too fast. Since we were just starting out, we didn’t need to go fast; we just needed to go. We’d run relaxed and easy, and if she needed to take a walk break, we would.

And with that, we were off! The two of us ran through her neighborhood, enjoying a beautiful night and talking about our kids. My Garmin chirped, and I gave her the good news: “Guess what, Daina? You just ran a mile.”

She could not believe it. “I did? That didn’t feel like a mile!” I assured her that it was, and that she was doing great. With a big smile on her face, she ran with me another ½ mile, back to her house. I showed her how far we’d run (1.58 miles) and how fast (19:11). She was absolutely thrilled and gave me a big hug before I took off back to my house. We made plans to get together again soon for another run.

I don’t think my feet touched the ground the whole way home. I was incredibly happy for my friend and loved seeing how proud she was – and rightly so – of her accomplishment. It was the best 1.58 miles I’ve run in a long time.

Very few people have the guts to go outside of their comfort zone and attempt something that’s really challenging. Last night, Daina did just that. Her strength and confidence inspired me and will be in my head the next time I’m struggling with a workout or race.

I’m looking forward to our next run together – and to her pushing me out of my comfort zone to do some yoga.

13.1 Miles and Semantics

2010-03-22T07:18:00.005-05:00

Run 13.1 miles and you'll find yourself searching for the right words to describe the experience. "Half marathon" seems really inadequate; running a 13.1 mile race is an accomplishment, not half of an accomplishment. Plenty of runners have been batting around alternative names for a race of 13.1 miles. I have favored "trisko," a play on the fear of the number 13.

Last week, I was standing at the starting line of the St. Patrick's Day 5K, and I noticed the t-shirt a woman in front of me was wearing. It declared that she was a member of Team Pikermi and had this picture on it:

I was intrigued enough to hit my computer pretty much as soon as I got home to learn more. Sure enough, Team Pikermi is a group of runners who are enthusiastic about the 13.1 mile distance, but think it needs a better name. And I am not afraid to admit, the name Pikermi is much cooler than trisko.

Why?

Because Pikermi, Greece is midway between Athens and Marathon. Pikermi, as a name, has the same historic significance as Marathon does for the 26.2 mile distance. I like to think that when Phedippides hit Pikermi, he was still feeling pretty good. Maybe he had some Gu, checked his Garmin, and thought he'd be in great shape after 13.1 more miles - we've all had that feeling. I can also say with confidence that if old Phedipp had finished his run in Pikermi, not only would he not have collapsed and died at the finish line, but he would have felt just fine after a shower and a good lunch.

I challenge my fellow lovers of 13.1 miles to join Team Pikermi and help give this distance the respect it deserves.

I ran into a different semantic debate about running 13.1 miles last week, with my husband. We were getting ready for bed, and he asked, as he often does on Saturday nights, "How long are you running tomorrow?" I told him 13.1 miles.

"But... that's a half marathon!"

"Well," I explained, "My training program has me at 13, so I like to throw in that extra .1 for fun."

Steve was astonished. "You're running a half marathon tomorrow."

"No, I'm running a half marathon distance tomorrow. It's not a half marathon," I said.

"What's the difference? That there are no guys in yellow vests telling you which way to turn?"

"I guess that's part of it," I said. "I also didn't pay any money for this, don't have a bib number, no official timer, no race director, no t-shirt, no one else runnign it with me, the course hasn't been certified..."

"Whatever," Steve responded. "You're running a half marathon tomorrow."

As I turned out the light, I muttered, "Half marathon distance."

Race Report: St. Patrick's Day 5K

2010-03-15T07:31:00.003-05:00

I ran the St. Patrick's Day 5K for the first time last year. I didn't really love the race, but I did love the fact that I got a sweet, sweet PR (23:44).

That time loomed large as I warmed up for the race. The fact of the matter is, I am not as fast as I was last year. The injury to my left shin last fall forced me to take quite a lot of time off, and I have been returning to running - and to speed work - very carefully and gradually. Last spring, I went into half marathon/trisko season chasing a PR and nailed it. My first trisko/half marathon of the 2010 season is The Abe Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon on April 4, and as much as I'd like to PR, I just don't know if I can do it. This race, I figured, would be a good way to set expectations.

The temperature was in the 40s, rainy, and a bit windy. That kind of weather yields a wide variety of clothing choices from other runners. I wore tights, a long sleeved shirt with my racing team singlet over it, and my racing team jacket. Teammate Missy wore the same thing, without the jacket, and Penny sported shorts. As always, the guys wore less - Frank just did the singlet and shorts, and I was cold just looking at him. Of course, the people who ran the race dressed as leprechauns probably would have done so regardless. In retrospect, I think Missy's outfit was perfect. By the time I finished the race, I was a bit hot, but not so hot that I would have wanted bare arms or legs.

We took off, and as I approached the first mile, I felt totally worn out. When I heard my split time, I knew why: 7:45. Way too fast! I made an effort to relax and slow down in the second mile, which I did, big time, at 8:48. By the third mile, I felt like I was crawling, though apparently I wasn't - 8:35. I sped up a bit for that last .1 and finished in 26:20. That's a totally respectable race time... if you don't know how much faster I ran it the year before.

I am really trying to keep things in perspective. When I finish my half marathon/trisko in a few weeks, the most important thing is for me to cross the finish line knowing I have done the best I possibly could on that day. Last spring, that was 1:56:51. This year, I am hoping for 2:05. It won't be my best ever, but it can be my best of the day.

Victory Pose

2010-02-25T07:29:00.002-05:00

In my last post, I shared a picture of myself crossing the finish line at the Chili Chase. In it, I am all business, which is exactly what my mental state was at that moment. I had just raced up a pretty steep hill to pass several other runners and was feeling the effects of the effort. I'm sure there was a smile on my face a second after that picture was taken, but in that moment, all I wanted was to get my foot on that mat.

My friend Tim, a recent convert to running, said that he always thinks about striking a pose as he crosses the finish line. He's partial to the Rocky:

and wonders, as a newbie runner, if it's appropriate. I told him that it's not only appropriate, but encouraged, but the more I think about it, there are some etiquette standards for victory poses when crossing the finish line. When Tim finished his first half marathon, then hell yes, he should rock the Rocky, but when I put in a solid effort at that four mile race, it would have been a tad much.

When can runners pull a victory pose like the Rocky, or its two armed variant? It's time to write the unwritten rules:

DO: Any time you finish a race of 13.1 miles or greater. You just accomplished something that most people will never do. I don't care how long it took you to finish that marathon; if you can get your arms over your head, do. Feel the triumph!

DON'T: When finishing an easy 3 mile training run around your neighborhood.

DO: After you set a hard-won PR. If you've been working your butt off to break 30 minutes (or 21 or 15 or 45 or whatever) in a 5K, and you just did it? Celebrate!

DON'T: If you took a walk break 20 meters ago and then just broke into a sprint to cross the finish line? People noticed it and we're not impressed.

DO: Just finished your first ever race? Welcome to the fraternity, my friend. Hoist your arms!

DON'T: If you just barely squeaked past another runner, then good job kicking it in, but throwing a Rocky seems like rubbing it in.

What about you? When do you think you can throw a victory pose?

Race Report: Chili Chase

2010-02-23T07:37:00.004-05:00

One sure way to kick those winter running doldrums is to sign up for a race. I ran the Chili Chase two years ago and had a great time, so I decided to run it again. And as an added bonus, this was my first race as a member of the Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team! I felt very proud to put on my uniform and was determined to do my team proud.

I arrived early to help out with registration. I helped give out the technical socks that the race director offered in lieu of t-shirts. It's always great to have another pair of good running socks, plus these had a very cool bright green band on them with a little chili pepper. As an extra, we also had running gloves to give out. People loved the gloves, a simple lightweight cotton that are perfect on a day when it's cold, but not too cold. Volunteering was a lot of fun. I got to hang out with a cool group of people, plus I was able to say hello to lots of my fellow runners.

Fifteen minutes before race time, I said goodbye to the other volunteers working the table and went outside to warm up. The temperature was cold, in the 20s, but I was careful not to over dress for it, wearing tights, wind pants, a long-sleeved technical t with my team singlet over it, and my team jacket. For the first time, I pinned my race number to my leg, rather than to my shirt, in case I needed to unzip my jacket. It snowed later in the day, but luckily there were no weather obstacles on the course, save for one tiny patch of packed snow - with a volunteer whose job it was to tell everyone to be careful.

All the runners gathered at the starting line, which went down a long medium-steep hill. The race director warned us that what goes down must go up - in other words, enjoy this downhill, because you'll be running up it to the finish line.

I wasn't sure how the race was going to go. I have struggled to get in quality speed work this winter. The tracks aren't clear, and it's hard to do speed consistently on the road because the combination of ice, packed snow, loose snow, and slushy mess makes footing unpredictable. I am training for a half marathon in April, and I know I'll have the stamina, but I don't know how fast I'll go. So, I decided to relax, work hard on the hills, and see what happened. I put Paula Garmin on under my jacket so I could look if I wanted to, but not be distracted by my pace.

We took off, and it was a great time. There was an out and back portion of the course, so my fellow runners, friends, and team members and I cheered for each other as we went by.

In the last mile, things started to get interesting. I could see several runners ahead of me who were struggling with the hills. I have been training on hills all winter, but even without that advantage, I always try to pass people on hills whenever possible. It's a psychological thing; I can see other people are having trouble, and I tell myself (whether it's true or not) that I am strong on hills and can beat people.

I picked off three runners who were slowing down, then set my sights on more and more of them. I probably passed five or six runners in the last mile. In the end, I crossed the line with a time I was very happy with: 35:32.

The post-race party for the Chili Chase is always fun. There's great food - bbq sandwiches, chili, and beer. I had a bite to eat and hung out with friends. Out of curiosity, I checked the results to see where I placed. To my surprise, my effort was good for 34th place... super cool because the race director doesn't do age group awards for this race, but rather gives out awards for the overall top 35! I just made it. Better still, instead of a trophy, I got a bright green travel coffee mug with a chili pepper on it.

It was a great way to spend a Sunday and has me feeling good about the year of racing ahead.

Doldrums

2010-02-10T07:19:00.002-05:00

I held out for as long as I could, but winter doldrums have offically set in.

There is much to love about running in the winter. Snow becomes more than just a cold wet inconvenience that I have to shovel; it's also beautiful, sparkly, and makes an appealing crunching noise when I run through it. Running makes me appreciate snow. And the cold doesn't bother me. Put on the right gear and give yourself ten minutes and you're fine. Best of all is the Badass Factor. No matter how short or slow your run is, the mere fact that you're out there while everybody else is inside makes you look totally hardcore.

Still, it's just seemed like so much effort lately. It's pitch dark when I leave the office and not getting any lighter by the time I've had dinner and put Jack to bed. By then the idea of layering up, going outside, and having what will be a slow run because of the snow is really unappealing.

I've got a ~~half marathon~~ trisko scheduled for April, so I'm still getting the miles in, but it's not much fun. I am waiting for the freedom of wearing just one pair of pants to go out, of trading my winter hat for a running cap, and of seeing just a little light in the evenings.

Magnificent Seven

2010-01-26T08:10:00.003-05:00

Sunday's long run was scheduled to be seven miles. It was easy to choose a route - I drove to Davenport and ran on the Bix course. Hey, if I lived in Boston and needed to run a 26.2 training run (admittedly unlikely), I know where I'd run then, too.

The weather had warmed up to the low 30s, which felt lovely and warm, and it was raining, which during the winter just feels like a refreshing change of pace. The course, as always, was hilly and challenging, but I was really in the mood to tackle something like that. I even saw a pair of fellow runners who seemed to be doing the very same thing. We waved enthusiastically at each other from across the street.

When the run was over, I felt great... except for one thing. I did a road test of a new sports bra and tried it with no Body Glide. Big mistake. A spot on my chest was completely chafed. The feeling when I stepped into the shower and the water hit me was absolute agony. Running seven miles in the rain over steep hills? No big deal. Tiny spot on my chest with no Body Glide? Totally laid me out.

Five to Survive

2010-01-25T08:12:00.003-05:00

On Saturday, Steve and I accomplished a feat that many of my peers described as brave: we hosted a birthday party for Jack at our house.

Honestly, it didn't seem that big of a deal to me. We planned exactly the kind of party that I remember from when I was a kid. Birthday parties were not outings to Chuck E. Cheese or the Family Museum. They were games, presents, and birthday cake at someone's house.

Steve and I planned the party carefully. We created a schedule, in ten minute increments, of all of the games and activities. Jack helped us clear all of his toys out of the family room and into the basement. Experience has shown me that otherwise, the other kids will descend upon our house and start dumping bins of action figures onto the floor, making both Jack - and me - cranky. And creating automatic fun, Jack decided it would be a costume party.

And the party was only scheduled for two hours; in running terms, that's just a half marathon. Not so much to endure!

The kids arrived and proceeded to run around the house like maniacs, which was exactly what was on the schedule. Then, we played games. First up was hot potato, in which we passed around a stuffed Spider-Man, with an emphasis on silliness - act like bunnies while passing Spidey, for example. Then, we had the kids toss balls into a laundry basket. After that, I switched to a quiet activity and the kids decorated masks with stick-on jewels. The kids loved the masks and worked on them for quite a while.

When all of them were finished, Jack led everyone in a costume parade. I gave away prizes for all of the costumes - also known as treat bags. Jack decided way back in November that his party would be a costume one, so we were able to pack the treat bags accordingly, with two different kinds of masks that I bought for a song in a post-Halloween clearance sale at Michaels, along with the standard noise maker, candy, and dinosaur pencil. They went over huge.

Then, it was time for birthday cake and presents. Hooray, party successful... except that we still had an entire hour to kill.

Steve and I brainstormed quickly for more games to keep the kids occupied. Luckily, the two of us had plenty of silliness left. We played Simon Says, then Musical Pillows. Musical Pillows was a huge hit last year; pillows instead of chairs because they're easier to manipulate. And again, the focus wasn't so much on being out or not as it was on having the kids circle the pillows pretending to be cats, or ducks, or ballerinas. And finally, did you know that kids still love to play Duck, Duck, Goose? Well, thank goodness, they do.

Once the kids took off, all three of us crashed. Jack was thrilled with how everything went.

Badass 800s

2010-01-20T08:36:00.002-05:00

Bart Yasso, step aside: I have invented a new speed workout.

Bart invented the Yasso 800, in which a runner does a series of 800 meter track repeats which miraculously predict their marathon finishing time. Nice.

But the workout I've invented is much tougher: Badass 800s.

Yesterday (the day which running history will note as the dawn of this new test of mettle), I drove to a nearby park and did a short warmup. Then, I went to the top of a long hill, set Paula Garmin, and had at it.

A Badass 800 consists of running down that steep hill, around a pond (the icy patches are optional to the workout), then finishing by running up that same steep hill, a total of 800 meters.

Badass 800s help a runner build fast twitch muscles, practice running downhill without killing your quads or falling flat on your face, navigate an undulating path that's far from track-flat, then handle a steep uphill when you're fatigued.

In short, they make you totally badass.

Yesterday, I did 4 Badass 800 repeats and went home feeling pretty much invincible. As I look ahead to the 2010 racing season, I am going to conquer every hill that I see.

Making the team

2010-01-18T07:07:00.003-05:00

One of my goals for 2009 was to get more involved in my local running community. Recently, I got some news that proves that I accomplished that mission.

In 2008, I applied for the Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team. I knew it was a long shot; I was new to the club and didn't really know anybody yet. But I loved the idea so I figured it was worth a try and sent in my application, along with an impassioned essay.

No such luck. In fact, I found out I didn't make the team on the very same day that I lost my job. Bummer, right?

This year, I applied again. I was hoping that the time I'd spend attending club events, getting to know my fellow runners, training with the club, and volunteering at a couple of races would make the difference. And, if not, I'd try again for the 2011 team - eventually, they'd have to cave and let me in.

It looks like they caved: I made the team!

We had our first meeting yesterday, and I am not exaggerating when I say that I was honored to be part of such a fantastic group of runners. The Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team is made up of runners of all age groups and abilities. They are people who I've watched get trophies at races, but also people who I've seen volunteering time and time again, supporting our fellow runners any way we can. Our team's goals are goals that are important to me as well - to promote the sport of running.

As a member of the team, I am going to enjoy some amazing benefits. I was issued a uniform, which I will wear every time I race: a singlet, shorts (which I may replace with a skirt), a sports bra, warm-up pants, a windbreaker, and a technical t-shirt to wear either when volunteering or when it's too chilly for the singlet. Best of all, it's my favorite color, red! I will also get a 20% discount at Running Wild, our fabulous local running store, and free or reduced entry to several local races. One of those local races is the Bix 7, and not only that, but our team gets elite entry. As in, "Hey, there, Meb and Joanie! Good morning, and I hope you enjoy kicking my ass in this race."

Our team does, of course, have to earn our keep. We are required to volunteer at at least six events a year. In particular, if we are running in a race for a free or reduced entry, the race director asks that we volunteer either before or after the race. I am more than happy to pitch in. Last year, I volunteered for two races, and I've been planning to do more. This sport has given a lot to me, and I want to make sure I give back as well.

I left the meeting feeling inspired, both to run my best and to promote my sport to everyone. I am proud of this accomplishment and everything that it represents.

Race Report: Frostbite Footrace 8K

2010-01-17T16:47:00.002-05:00

Where we last left off, I was taking an unplanned rest day thanks to an achy knee, but still determined to run the 8K Frostbite Footrace to see how it felt.

I took some Advil and headed for the race, hoping for the best. The place was buzzing with runner friends of mine, including Sara and Jen, who I hadn't seen in months. I think everyone was excited about the first local race of the year - and the fact that the weather was so nice. Several people enthused about how warm it was, and that the weather should not be a factor at all in anyone's performance.

For those of you who don't live in the midwest, the temperature was about 20 degrees. Only a cold weather runner could look at a day like that and be happy to be running outside.

I lined up with Sara and Jen. "Are you ready for this?" they asked. I said that honestly, I probably wasn't. Because of my knee problems, I planned to run a relaxed race and see how I felt. I figured chances were pretty good that I'd end up having to take off another several days. I put my Garmin in my pocket so that I wouldn't be distracted by my pace, which I figured wout be slow.

And, bang! We were off! Jen, Sara, and I leapfrogged back and forth for the first 2 and a half miles - the two of them running together and me by myself (they're sisters and tend to stick together). The two of them stopped for water, and as I passed them, Jen said, "See, Sara? That's what you get for stopping. Now she's ahead of us."

Not for long, though, and the two of them passed me again.

I'll be honest: a huge part of me wanted to beat them. No matter what, it's hard to shut down that competitive spirit. But an even bigger part of me wanted my knee to not be hurt. The months I took off for my injured shin really bummed me out. So, I relaxed and tried my best to run my own race.

At about the halfway point, Jen pulled ahead of Sara and I caught up to her. Sara said she was okay and told me to go after Jen. I did my best, but it wasn't meant to be this time around. Sara was close behind me for quite a while, so I warned her about some of the big hills.

After a while, she was too far behind me... and Jen was too far in front of me. I was on my own. The race ends with a climb up a long, not too steep hill. I pushed it hard to the top, remembering how windy that same climb was last year.

Finally, I kicked it past another runner and into the chute. My finishing time astonished me - just shy of 45 minutes! That was far faster than I'd thought I was going; I guess keeping my Garmin in my pocket paid off, because otherwise, I might have slowed down.

Best of all? My knee is totally fine. On to the next run!

Slip sliding away

2010-01-14T07:33:00.003-05:00

Bad news: my knee hurts.

I have been devoted to the 10% rule, so I don't think it's overuse. In fact, it seems pretty clear that running on the uneven and slippery terrain we have outside was the cause. Somehow, I must have slid too much and put too much strain on my knee.

Regardless, I'm taking an unplanned day off today. I have an 8K to run on Saturday, and we'll see how it goes.

Think positive for me!

Frozen

2010-01-13T08:08:00.002-05:00

Ellen: Clark, Audrey's frozen from the waist down.
Clark: That's all part of the experience, honey.

Last night, the temperature was in the 20s, and compared to where it's been for the past few weeks, that felt positively balmy. So, when I went out for my 4 mile tempo run, I put on fewer layers than usual - a long sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, and windbreaker, with a pair of tights rather than my fleece pants.

The terrain outside is still pretty uneven. Moving from nicely shoveled sidewalks to loose snow to packed snow to ice patches is a challenge (and tweaked my right knee a little bit). I made an effort not to look at my pace on Paula Garmin, but just to go for that all-important "comfortably hard" feeling. It felt good to open up, and between the increased effort and the music of Lady Gaga on my iPod, my run was over before I knew it.

It was pretty easy to ignore the tingling feeling in my legs.

I got inside, and without those distractions, that tingling feeling demanded a lot more attention. I got undressed to get in the shower and discovered that my legs, from my waist to my knees was bright red (I guess my Recovery Socks kept my calves warmer). Uh-oh.

I quickly got in the shower, careful not to keep the temperature too warm for fear it'd warm me up too fast. Then I put on warm jammies and a robe, covered my lower half with a blanket, and drank a lovely glass of lukewarm water. One bowl of hot soup later, and I seemed to be okay.

The moral of the story is, just because it feels warmer than usual, if that "usual" is 20 below, doesn't mean it's suddenly warm outside.

Recovery

2010-01-12T07:46:00.003-05:00

Running conditions update: still ridiculously cold. Trying to navigate between patches of ice, packed snow, and powder snow is no picnic. This winter, I've had just a handful of runs that made me feel exhilarated and amazing when I finished. More of them have been a slog. I'm proud to have gone out in the cold and done something challenging, but the running itself was not the fun part.

In cases like that, the best part of my cold weather run is being done. My recovery routine can actually create a runner's high in a way that the run itself can't always do.

The very first thing I do when I get home is take off my sweaty clothes. I have a nice warm sweatshirt right at the back door, ready to go. Time is of the essence - if I wait too long, my body temperature drops too rapidly and I spend the next couple of hours shivering.

Then, while I do some gentle stretching, I heat up a mug of hot chocolate. If chocolate milk is an ideal recovery drink, surely it has the same properties when you heat it up, right? Let's just call the marshmallows extra carbs.

The hot chocolate tastes better than any hot chocolate I've ever had, and the warm, dry shirt becomes the most comfortable thing that I own. It probably goes without saying that the hot shower I enjoy afterward is pure bliss.

But the best thing of all is the way I feel for the rest of the day. I walk around knowing that I did something challenging, something that most people would never consider doing. Even if it wasn't fun and easy, I did it.

What about you? How do you recover?

10 for 2010

2010-01-11T07:32:00.003-05:00

Yes, everybody's doing it, so let's all join hands, jump off this bridge together, and ponder our goals for 2010.

1. Run at least two half marathons in the spring and two in the fall. Last year, I did three in the spring and one in the fall. 13.1 is my favorite distance to race, and I'm going to continue to devote myself to it in 2010.

2. Set a PR in the half marathon. I don't care if it's one second; I want a new PR.

3. Set a PR in the 5K. I'm going to keep running this distance and want to keep shedding seconds as I go.

4. Run at least three new races. Yes, I said this last year and ran considerably more than three new races, but I'm keeping the number at 3 figuring that eventually I'll run out of new local races to tackle!

5. Strength training and core training at least twice a week. I am such a slacker about this, and for no good reason. It really doesn't take long, and I have everything I need at home to keep up a minimal routine.

6. Drink more water. Not so much while I'm running as during my day to day life. I really need to work on this one, just to be healthier overall.

7. Eat like an athlete. That doesn't mean that every single thing I eat will be healthy, but most of what I eat will be, and I want to think about the effects food has on my body and determine what makes the best fuel. And if I do that, I can eat the occasional homemade cookie with no guilt.

8. Incorporate more hills into training. When I go out for a run, I tend to keep it flat. No more. I'm going to come up with some standard 3 and 4 mile loops that include hills at different points in the route. I know that this will make me stronger.

9. Remember to actually wear my Road ID when I go out. In 2009, I was probably at about 75%, and that's not good enough.

10. Keep a training log. I'm devising my own training routine this spring based on FIRST and my race goals, very carefully following the 10% rule. The log will add even more structure and accountability to what I'm doing.

It's going to be a great year. What about you, Internet? What are you doing in 2010?

Christmas at Stately Wasser Manor

2010-01-05T07:30:00.002-05:00

'nuff said.

Seven

2010-01-04T20:37:00.003-05:00

Seven. It's not the number of miles I ran yesterday, or even the number of dwarfs in the movie I watched with Jack. Instead, it was the high temperature for the day, a day when I needed to go for a run.

Under those circumstances, many runners would do something foolish, namely run on a treadmill.

Pfft.

Instead, I layered up: red knee-high Oxysox, fleece pants, long-sleeved t-shirt with thumb holes, red fleece vest (which I forgot that I had on and surprised me when I got changed later), red windbreaker, black vest (see, forgot I had the red one on), hat, buff, thin running gloves, Steve's wooly glove/mitten hybrid "glittens."

And you know, after maybe 3/4 of a mile, I didn't feel cold any more. The main evidence of the cold was the frost that formed on my hat... and the fact that my watery eyes produced an ice clump in my eyelashes.

On a beautiful spring day, the streets are crowded with runners. Yesterday, I didn't see a single fellow runner out. I can only hope a few of my brethern spotted me and decided to go out later.

When the weather is as cold as it is here on the ice planet Hoth, you hear a lot of people griping about it. I believe those people should go outside. If you only experience winter through your window or your car, yes, it sucks. But if you're outside, you get an invigorating experience that gets your blood pumping. And the post-run hot chocolate is the most delicious thing there is.

Running away from home

2009-12-30T08:37:00.002-05:00

As I look back on my year of running, some of my fondest memories were of running away from home. No, not fleeing the confines of Stately Wasser Manor, but rather enjoying a nice run while traveling for work.

When I'm traveling for work, I am completely away from my normal life. When I get up in the morning, I don't have a cup of coffee with Steve, make Jack his morning strawberry milk, and get him ready for school. Instead, I wake up and pretty much get to work, then do the same all day, then at night until I decide to get to sleep.

I forget that other people are not existing out of time like I am. I'll sit at the desk, impatiently wondering why no one has answered my emails, only to remember that it's only 8:00, most people have not been working for the past hour and a half, and that they are, in fact, trying to get ready for work.

I have learned that when I'm away from home, I always need to bring my running shoes and I always need to go for a run.

Those early morning jaunts have been terrific adventures. I wandered through a neighborhood in Charlotte, lined by honeysuckle bushes, and two little girls waiting for the school bus ran with me for a little while. I found trails around beautiful frozen lakes outside Minneapolis. In San Antonio, I zipped along the cobblestone paths of River Walk and watched the sun rise at the Alamo. I spent another morning with Lake Michigan to one side, the skyline of Chicago looming large in front of me. My favorite travel run was in Seattle, where I ran through memories of the summer I lived there with Steve, the summer we fell in love.

Running while on the road connects me with the city where I'm staying in a way that eating breakfast at the hotel and going to and from whatever project I'm working on does not. More importantly, it keeps me connected to who I am. When I'm away from home, I have to keep running.

The Fab Four

2009-12-24T00:00:00.002-05:00

Back when Jack was just two years old, we went to a birthday party for a little boy who was turning four. This other little boy was quiet and solemn, a huge contrast to the zany little bundle of energy that was my kid. I watched the other boy calmly unwrap his birthday gifts and eat a modest amount of cake and dreaded the prospect of Jack turning four. My cute, funny, entertaining little guy wouldn’t be so cute anymore.

This year has proven to me that I was wrong. That other kid was just weird. Jack’s fourth year has been fantastic.

Our family went through a lot of changes this year. I lost my job in January, which enabled us to spend a lot of time together, in the Mommy-Jack Academy. We went to dance classes and acted silly, we put on plays with his tigers, baked cookies, and had a great time. When I went back to work, he and I missed our time together, but it felt like things were a bit more back to normal… except that they weren’t, because all of a sudden, I had a job that required me to travel pretty frequently. And at around the same time, Steve also had to do more travel for his job. Jack has adapted really well. We keep a calendar in his room and mark when Mommy or Daddy is coming home. Sometimes he gets a present after one of us has been on a trip, but more often, we go out for a special breakfast to spend more time together.

Jack absolutely loves his preschool, especially the main teacher Miss Toya. Miss Toya has helped Jack improve his writing, so he will surprise me by pulling out a crayon and writing WASSER on a piece of paper. She teaches the kids to say “yes” instead of “yeah,” and it sounds so much nicer that Steve and I have adopted the same habit. The kids in Jack’s class put on a circus this spring at which Jack was an acrobat. She even showed up at one of his soccer games.

Jack has an incredible curiosity about words and language. When we go to the library, he loads up the bag with all kinds of reading material – picture books, non-fiction materials about animals, and now chapter books. His favorites are the Magic Treehouse series, about a boy named Jack who travels through time. Jack will sit and listen to me read for as long as I’m willing. He has also started noticing words everywhere and will ask, “What does ‘O-P-E-N’ spell?”

We have done some fun traveling together as a family this year. In June, we took a weekend trip to Chicago, Jack’s first big city. He was fascinated by the tall buildings, the pigeons, the noise of the El track, and the fact that he was allowed to go in a taxi without his car seat. Our big vacation was to the Wisconsin Dells and the Great Wolf Lodge. Jack had a blast playing in the many swimming pools and going down water slides.

The little guy has had a few dark moments. He got in the most trouble of his entire life when, mad at me, he used his scissors to cut a small hole in the back of one of our living room chairs. And when I tell him to apologize for things – “you don’t have to mean it, you just have to say it” – he steadfastly refuses.

At the same time, he’s sweet and affectionate. He was eager to help his three-year-old cousin play hide and seek with the big kids at Thanksgiving. Jack gives lots of love to Roary and his fleet of “stuffed guys,” telling them, “It’s okay, Sweetie,” if they are sad. And when I started to cry during the movie Up Jack reached over and held my hand.

He also loves to make people laugh. He will tell jokes over and over again, figuring that the knock-knock joke about the interrupting cow will only be funnier the 900th time you hear it. He is even a fan of physical comedy, pretending to walk into walls, then laughing like a loon.

Year Four has been wonderful. Jack does or says something every single day that makes me proud of him. When I look ahead to Jack’s fifth year, I have no fear. My little guy will still be my clever, funny, sunny little guy.

Happy birthday, Jack!

2009 report card

2009-12-21T21:05:00.000-05:00

At the end of last year, I posted some running goals for myself. How’d I do?

1. Run at least two half marathons triskos. Set new trisko PR of 2 hours or less (down from 2:05).

Goal OBLITERATED! I ran four half marathons in 2009, three of them in a 29 day period, earning me a spot in the Half Fanatics. Of those four triskos, the first was the best, with a finishing time of 1:56:51. Boo-yah!

2. Run at least one marathon, setting a PR of 4:30 or less (down from 4:38).

Goal FAILED! As awesome as I was at Goal #1, the second was not meant to be. I started a new job in February, which requires frequent travel. I do run while I’m on the road, but when I’m home on weekends, I don’t want to ditch Steve and Jack to go run 20 miles. I’m sure I’ll tackle the marathon again some day, but at this point, I’m not called to it. The half marathon is my favorite distance, not only because it suits my lifestyle, but because I feel like I can more successfully race it, not just survive it.

3. Get a Fuel Belt and a Road ID. That should be easy enough, but they are important things to do nevertheless.

Goal accomplished, and I’m glad I did. The Fuel Belt has given me the freedom to explore a bit more on my long runs, to go further afield of my house and the bottle of Gatorade that was always waiting at the end of my driveway. And that’s been great. And because I have been running while travelling, the Road ID gives me a little bit more peace of mind.

4. Run at least three new races.

Betsy SMASH puny race goal! In 2009, I ran 13 new races: an indoor track meet (one event, three races, so I am counting it as three), the Frostbite Footrace, the St. Patrick’s Day 5K, Steve’s Old Time Tap Chaser 5K, Imagination Library 5K, the Madison Half Marathon, 13.1 Chicago, an outdoor track meet (one race), Run With Carl, the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and the Governor’s Cross Country two-mile. I do have to travel for my new job, but the wellness program sponsors 50% of my entry fees to local races, thus making it very appealing to check out new things.

5. Here's the big one: get more involved in running locally. I love my online running friends, but I also want to make some real life running friends. To that end, I am working to participate more in my local running club. I am also planning on joining the group track workouts on Tuesday nights, and anything else I can think of. I want to go to races and see people I know.

Done and done! I’ve been going to club meetings, joined training groups for the Quad Cities Distance Classic and the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and volunteered for a couple of races while I was injured, just to stay in touch. And it’s worked!

Thanks to a combination of goal 4 and goal 5, I got second place in my age group in my running club’s 2009 circuit. Fellow Runner JP gave me my t-shirt and medal, insisted on getting his picture taken with “my favorite age group, women from 30-39,” then later told me that he was really glad I’d come out and done so much running this year. I really feel like I’m part of something bigger, and it’s great.

I’m mulling over 2010 goals now, but in the meantime, I’m happy with how well 2009 has turned out.

Half Crazy? Half Fanatic!

2009-12-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

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.

Run, Run, Rudolph

2009-12-18T07:59:00.000-05:00

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.

The Circuit

2009-12-15T08:41:00.002-05:00

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:

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.

Last race of 2009

2009-12-14T08:22:00.002-05:00

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.

Race Report: Hawk Hustle

2009-11-17T07:38:00.002-05:00

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-fated ~~half 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.

Ready to Hustle?

2009-11-09T08:16:00.002-05:00

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 Greatest of All Time

2009-11-08T10:06:00.003-05:00

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.

Race Report: Governor's Cross Country Race

2009-11-02T20:53:00.002-05:00

After a few successful sessions of running in quicksand, I decided to brave a race. And not just any race: the Governor's Cross Country Race. I ran this race for the first time last year, and it was probably the most fun race I did all year.

Sure, running through extreme, hilly, muddy trails and diving through creeks isn't exactly an easy way to come back from an injury. But, the race had a two mile option, the ground would be softer than a hard road, and it's not a race anyone tries to run fast. I figured it would be a great way to go out and have some fun.

My fellow two-milers watched the four milers take off, then the race director (my running coach from the training program, Russ) lined us up in the opposite direction. He told us to keep the blue flags to the right and said there'd be a pink ribbon marking the first mile. Throughout the course, we'd find shortcuts marked with yellow flags. Russ told us that they would be shorter, but not necessarily faster. And like last year, there were ribbons hidden throughout the race course that could be redeemed for prizes afterwards. With those instructions, we were off!

After just shy of a quarter mile on the dirt next to the road, the course took us into the woods. We followed a narrow trail that darted in between trees and scraped past bushes. Every single runner stopped to walk up a steep hill, then started running again at the top.

It felt glorious to be out there. The weather was perfect - in the 60s and sunny. The park was beautiful, and the experience of running through the woods felt natural, primal. We reached a clearing, and a volunteer stationed there told us all, "There's a big fallen tree here. You decide: over it or under it?"

I stood and looked at the tree for a moment, considering my options. The space under it was small. I'd have to get on my hands and knees and crawl under it. Climbing over it didn't seem like a good option, either. It was pretty tall, and it wouldn't be easy to get started. I also thought I'd probably scratch up my legs if I tried it. Under it was, and it worked fine. A few minutes later, I snagged a blue ribbon hidden in a grove of trees. I saw another ribbon nearby and called out to my fellow runners, in case anybody was still looking for one.

There were several creeks along the course race that we had to cross. I stepped into the first one and was surprised to see that the water was over my knees. At the next one, I followed the yellow flags and found a volunteer holding a rope that I could use to swing across. Tellingly, a man with a video camera was stationed at the other end. I grabbed the rope and swung... right into the deep water. I laughed and crawled out of the creek.

At the next creek, there was another rope swing. This time, I was ready for it. I knew that I needed to grab onto the rope as high as I could to avoid landing in the creek again. I held on as high up as I could and... SPLASH! Right into the water!

By this point, I was, naturally, soaking wet. Last year, I didn't know what I was getting into and looked a bit silly in really nice new running clothes. This time, I wore a sweatshirt that already had mud stains on it from running Living History Farms in it. Twice. I wore my good shoes because I didn't want to mess around with an injury, but I wore a pair of gloves that already had mud stains on them. I remembered from last year that knee socks were a good idea, but did not remember that a skirt was a bad idea. Just like last year, my skirt ended up sopping wet and clinging to my legs. Maybe the third year will be the time I get it right.

I ran along at a relaxed pace when a dad, decked out in an Afro wig, and his son (who was probably about eight) ran towards me. "Come on," said the dad. "We don't want to get beat by Pigtails here." I laughed, and he added, "And she probably doesn't want to lose to a guy in an Afro." I told him that was true, but that I didn't mind losing to a kid because kids are fast.

I took a walk break so that I could be sure my leg wasn't taxed too much. Two more women passed me... then I realized that the finish line was near. I picked it up, passed both of them, and closed the gap a bit with Afro.

I happily crossed the line in 24:40, then went into the lodge to reap the rewards of this great race. First, I grabbed a beer. Then, I turned in my blue ribbon. Prize choices included a water bottle (just like I got last year), coffee cups, and Snickers bars taped to lottery tickets. I snagged a coffee cup with the logo from the 2004 Pumpkin Dash on one side and my running club logo on the other. Finally, I hung out by the blazing fire and warmed up.

It feels wonderful to be out there again. It will take a while before I'm back at real racing speed, but I don't care. I'm just happy to be running.

Running through quicksand

2009-10-27T20:49:00.003-05:00

After Sunday's poor attempt at running, I made another go at the walk five minutes, run five minutes for a total of 20 plan. I was rested and ready to go.

I still felt like I was running through quicksand. The good thing is, I learned from this article by Pete Pfitzinger that, "During the first few runs you will just be getting your body used to the running motion again. You may feel as though you have never run before. Rest assured, this feeling will go away after a few runs."

When my legs felt weird, I ran a little slower. I looked like this:

But because I was able to run at all, and because I finished without pain, I felt like this:

Pants on fire

2009-10-27T07:40:00.005-05:00

It would appear that our friend Mr. Jackson Wasser (pictured with superhero friends), is enjoying a lying phase. I consulted renowned child psychologist Dr. Google, and he says that such a phase is common among preschoolers and can take two forms: tall tales and attempts to get out of trouble. Jack, gifted child that he is, employs both techniques.

Steve and Jack went to a Halloween party on Saturday while I was volunteering. Jack told me that he was very nice at the parade and shared his candy with other kids, including "some kids who had broken legs and could not get their own candy." I told him that was very nice and that I was proud of him. I was less proud when Steve told me that Jack did share his candy with other kids, but that there were no kids with broken legs.

Yeah.

Then, Steve discovered some marks in black pen on the back of the bathroom door. Turns out that Jack is some kind of graffiti prodigy. I confronted Jack with the evidence and he swore that he didn't do it. He was so adamant and so stubborn in not admitting any kind of wrongdoing that I think he could have passed a polygraph test. Dr. Google says this is common - kids Jack's age work so hard to lie to get themselves out of trouble that they believe it themselves.

Dr. Google further says that preschool aged kids are not quite ready developmentally to understand that lying is wrong. I shouldn't let it go, but I shouldn't make a big deal out of it either. Good thing, because I have some kids with broken legs to give candy to.

Race Report: Pumpkin Dash

2009-10-26T09:06:00.003-05:00

Once again, we have a race report in which I am not actually racing. Hopefully this will not be too common of an occurance.

On Saturday afternoon, I volunteered to help with packet pick-up for the Pumpkin Dash. If you're a runner and have never volunteered for a race, then you should. It's definitely good running karma, and it's really a lot of fun. I basically hung out for a couple hours at my running club's offices, gave people bibs and t-shirts, took some money, and talked about running with friends. What's not to like? Plus I got one of the race t-shirts for my troubles, and it's really cool: a long-sleeved technical shirt with cool pumpkins and scarecrows on it! I have to admit, the fact that I'd be scoring a long-sleeved technical shirt was about 20% of why I wanted to volunteer! After my shift ended, I went next door to the running store and got a pair of inserts for my shoes, as recommended by my orthopedist. They are lovely and cushy.

Sunday morning, Steve decided at the last minute to run the 4K race (there was also an 8K), so the boys and I got dressed and headed out. The race was held at Credit Island Park, and I was immediately bombarded with sense memories of cross country races that I ran there in high school. There was a picnic shelter that I specifically remember standing by while my teammates and I cheered on the boys' team. It's a really pretty place on the Mississippi River, and it was a perfect fall day - great for running!

Steve headed to the starting line, and Jack and I walked about 3/4 of a mile away so we could find a spot to cheer for the runners that was away from everybody else. Steve almost missed us - he had his iPod on and wasn't expecting his cheerleaders to be in a spot so early in the race.

After we cheered for all of the runners, then all of the walkers, we moved to a spot near the finish line. We got to see the 8K leaders cruising past the 4K finish line, then started clapping for the 4K finishers. When Steve approached, I held up Jack and the two of us started yelling for him. Steve gestured for Jack to join him, and they crossed the pumpkin-lined finish together. Steve did very well, beating his goal of 10 minute miles.

Half an hour later, it was time for Jack to run the kids' race. Costumes were encouraged, and really, it doesn't take much to encourage Jack to wear a costume. In fact, he has so many that it's nice to have the opportunity to rock out more costumes than just the one worn trick-or-treating. For the race, he selected his Venom costume. People got a kick out of it because it has built-in muscles and Jack looked totally ripped.

Steve and I walked Jack to the starting line and showed him the cone that was the turnaround point. After some good luck hugs, we went to the sidelines to watch him. As always, I absolutely love watching Jack run. He has a look of pure joy as he races along, one that I always try to bring to mind when I'm struggling with a tough run myself. Jack ran great, smiling all the way, then happily collecting his finisher's medal, adorned with pumpkins.

That night, I decided it was time to attempt some running of my own. I set my Garmin (praise be thy name) to beep at me every five minutes. The plan was to walk five, then slowly run five - and to stay on the grass as much as possible - for 20 minutes.

How'd it go? Results inconclusive. The biggest thing is that running didn't feel quite natural. It was like I had a weight on my left leg and my stride never felt quite right. In retrospect, it wasn't the best day to try running again. I was on my feet all day in ballet flats, so my feet were tired before I started. I'm going to try the five-five 20 minute test again tonight, after a relaxing day of sitting at my desk. Right now, I'm not optimistic, but I want to try so I can really see what I'm up against. Wish me luck!

Walk this way

2009-10-19T19:58:00.001-05:00

Good news, Internet!

Today, I walked a mile with no pain in my shin.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try two miles.

And if that works, I'm going to try some slow, easy walk-running.

I am so happy.

Bad luck duathalon

2009-10-18T15:31:00.003-05:00

I cannot wait for the fling I am having with biking to end so that I can get back to my true love, running.

I planned an hour-long bike ride this morning and did my best to enjoy it. I tried not to think about how I'd really prefer to have my feet on the ground and just use my own body to move forward. I cruised through pretty neighborhoods and enjoyed the fall leaves.

Then, a mile and a half away from home, something screwy happened with the bike. The pedals locked up, there was something wrong with the chain, and basically, the damned thing didn't work anymore.

Crap in a hat.

And while they say that you never forget how to ride a bike, I can promise you that you do, in fact, forget how to fix the chain on your bike when it goes kablooey.

I had no choice but to start walking home, towing my useless bike along with me. All the way, I thought about how if I were running, this would not have happened.

Running is simple, beautiful, and free. There is no equipment that can suddenly fail in the middle of a run that keeps you from finishing. You either keep running, or you walk home... and if you walk home, you don't have to lug a stupid bike with you.

The good news is, a mile and a half long walk did not hurt my leg. I may be able to switch from biking to walking, which would be great.

Like riding a bike

2009-10-15T07:39:00.002-05:00

I decided recently to take a break from moping around feeling sorry for myself that I can't run by doing some other form of exercise. Normally it's the kind of thing we call "cross training," but apparently there are other people who just straight-up ride bikes for reasons not at all related to running. I know! It's a crazy world out there.

I went to the gym (which again, I have heard people do for reasons not at all related to running) and logged 45 minutes on the stationery bike. The gym I go to is at one of the local colleges, so while I pedaled away, I was able to watch dancers rehearse for the upcoming halftime show. Wasn't it considerate of them to put on a show for me?

The biking was... okay. I was indoors instead of outside feeling the wind in my face, and I didn't actually go anywhere, so that's a drawback. I was far from experiencing the freedom that comes with running. But you know, it was better than nothing. It felt good to sweat, work hard, and get my heart rate up. I will keep plugging away at it until the glorious day that I can lace up my shoes and RUN.

Race Report: Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic

2009-10-12T06:33:00.002-05:00

Here's a first for me: a race report with no actual racing involved, at least not on my part.

Friends, my leg is still in bad shape. It still hurts when I walk, stairs are still tricky, and going from sitting on the floor to a standing position is more challenging now than it was when I was pregnant. The situation really blows. Not only am I without the outlet of running, but let's not forget: my leg hurts. It's not especially bad, and I'm not taking anything for it, but it's a constant reminder of something I'd rather not think about.

That's a long way of explaining that no way was I going to be able to run the Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic, a 5 and 10K race put on by my running club on Sunday. Instead, I asked the race director if I could volunteer.

Race Day preparations were not especially different for me. I still woke up early, drank coffee, and hada light breakfast. I still gave some thought to what I'd wear. It was very cold outside, probably in the 40s, so I put on a comfy pair of track pants, knee socks (cotton, argyle, cute and totally inappropriate for running), a long-sleeved t-shirt (cotton, totally inappropriate for running), a sweatshirt that I planned to exchange for the race shirt when I arrived (again, inappropriate), a striped hat, and at the last minute, a pair of thin gloves.

The race was held at a pretty park along the Mississippi River and had a bike path that I should check out some time soon. The race director told me that I'd been assigned to work the finish line, removing chips from the runners' shoes. Cool! I helped set up the timing mat at the starting line, then busied myself with chatting with my running friends. For the first time ever, I stood off to the side while my fellow runners lined up to start and watched them take off.

When the runners were away, it was strangely quiet in our part of the park. What had been a hive of activity was just a handful of people. After a few minutes, we rolled up the starting map. Then I killed some time by drinking a cup of hot cider. We chatted about when the first 5K finishers would cross the line; everybody figured that based on the field, it would be around 17 minutes. With just shy of 15 minutes on the clock, I took my position on a folding chair in the finishing chute, along with two other volunteers.

Sure enough, shortly after the 17 minute mark, the first finisher crossed the line, well ahead of the runner in second place. From then on, we were steadily busy. Chip removal was a great job to have. I got to watch every single runner cross the finish line, chat with the other volunteers, admire really cute running outfits (which would probably only happen when all three volunteers were women), and cheer for everybody, especially my friends.

The only drawback is that it got really cold. I could have used an extra pair of socks, as my toes were getting numb. One of my running friends brought me a cup of hot coffee and thus proved himself to be a special kind of running angel, a running angel who doesn't help fellow runners, but instead, icy volunteers.

The 10K finishers started to slow up, and after a while, we heard that there were only two women left on the course. I moved my chair closer up to the finishing line, and the other two volunteers departed. It was the first time I'd ever been there to see someone finish last in a race, and I'm happy to say that the women with that distinction crossed the finish line with an exhilarated smile on her face. I sat around for a few minutes, rather than yelling, "Okay, last place just cross the line. Let's pack this up!" That smiling runner had just finished a 10K, maybe her first. I wanted her to enjoy her moment no matter how many runners finished ahead of her.

After the race was over, I dove into a huge catered breakfast that was free for all of the volunteers and runners. There were eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, and muffins. The food was delicious, and everyone had fun hanging around eating, despite the cold.

Just like I do when I finish a race, I am already making plans for my next. I am afraid that, in two weeks, I am still not going to be up to running, not even a slow 4K. But I can get out there and help my fellow runners by volunteering. I know that, in time, I'll be back there toeing the line with the others. Until that day comes, I want to bank some karma by giving back.

Mrs. Brightside

2009-10-07T19:34:00.002-05:00

But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside

I'm not seeing the bright side to my injury today. I don't want to think about how it could be worse. To be honest, I'm pretty down.

Sunday will mark two weeks I've gone without running. The pain in my leg is better than it was, but it's not gone. Still there, after almost two weeks of resting.

I am used to being strong and capable. Now I have to walk down the stairs slowly and carefully. I ran a few steps yesterday to catch up with Steve and Jack in the parking lot, and it was very painful. I have a bin of summer clothes that needs to go to the basement. I am afraid that if I try to carry them down myself I will hurt myself, so I am going to have to ask Steve to do it for me. He will, of course, without complaint. But I don't want to have to ask help for something I should be able to do myself without thinking.

I experimented with wearing high heels again, even just low ones. When I'm not in running shoes, I am in heels, but apparently not now. That experiment made me come to the conclusion that it was time to buy some more flats. Flats are cute, and I don't want to look cute. I want to look authoritative and sexy. Ballet flats aren't going to cut it.

My running club has a race in a few weeks, the Pumpkin Dash. There's an 8K, a 4K, and a 1/4 mile costumed kids' race. I've signed Jack up for the kids' race. Today, I was emailing Steve about the possibility of our running the 4K together. It'll be a full month after the half marathon, so that seemed like a good amount of recovery time before easing back into running. He'd help me keep my pace slow and easy, and it would be fun to run it with him. Then I decided not to register now, to play it by ear and see if I am up to it.

The fact that I am wondering whether or not I will be capable of running a slow race of around 2-1/2 miles is really depressing.

The injured runner

2009-10-05T07:49:00.002-05:00

An injured runner is a sad creature. We want, more than anything, to be out running. When you're injured, every glance out your car window reveals a veritable army of fellow runners, racing happily down the sidewalks. Every weather forecast might as well say "Perfect running weather! Sucks to be you!" And your running shoes, naturally, taunt you.

Running is a favorite activity, a way to rationalize eating a cookie, an opportunity to spend time with friends, a chance to be alone on a Sunday morning, and the best stress relief there is. Without running, what to do?

I am trying to be the best injured runner I can possibly be.

If running was the first thing to go for me, the running diet was the second. I am not burning the calories I was just a few weeks ago, so I am being much more mindful of what I eat. In addition to keeping the cookie quantities in check, I'm also working to strengthen and heal those bones that are giving me a hard time by eating more calcium rich foods. My new snacks of choice are yogurt and cottage cheese.

Like most (slightly obsessive) runners, part of me fears that if I miss a workout, my legs will atrophy and I'll be the slowest slug out there. So yesterday, I literally dusted off my bike and helmet and went for a ride. It felt good to get my heart pumping again, and the exercise didn't bother my leg at all. Of course I would rather be running, but it's better than nothing.

Finally, I don't want to shut myself off from the running community. I'll be posting updates from Injury Land, and of course I'll still read my favorite blogs. And there's a race on Sunday that I had been planning on running. Since that's not in the cards, I'm going to volunteer. The time to give back is long overdue, and if I can't run myself, at least I can support those who can.

It could be worse

2009-10-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

It could be worse. When I googled "injured runner," here's one of the pictures I got:

I am continuing to rest up my leg and stay positive. The race director took me up on my offer to volunteer on Sunday morning. I am going to be "course control," which I believe consists of standing on the course, telling everybody which way to go, and making sure nobody cheats. It may also involve wearing an orange reflective vest. The really great thing is that I get one of the race sweatshirts (totally okay to wear a shirt for a race you didn't participate in IF you volunteered instead) and can join the post-race breakfast.

My biggest inspiration during this time is a guy in my running club, John. John started out the marathon/trisko training program with me, but had to quit his training because of a really bad injury that had him in a cast.

John quit training, but he did not quit coming to training runs. The guy showed up at the crack of dawn every Sunday morning. While we all ran, he rode his bike, made sure everybody was safe, and gave us words of encouragement.

It had to have been hard on John to see everybody else running when he couldn't, but he had a smile on his face every single time I saw him. Near as I can tell, he is one of the planet's all-time greatest humans.

So, if John can come out with a cast on his leg, smile, and be supportive, I can most certainly suck it up for a while.

The doctor says...

2009-10-01T19:44:00.004-05:00

The injury that started screaming at me after Sunday's ~~half marathon~~ trisko continued screaming on Monday. It screamed so loud that, without delay, I picked up the phone and made an appointment to see my doctor.

I was pretty sure how that appointment would go: he'd take a good look at my leg, ask me some questions, determine he could not tell what the problem was, and refer me to an orthopedist. It's a little dance the two of us have done before, and sure enough, that's exactly what happened this time. The only things that were different were that he gave me a prescription for some pain meds... and that his nurse misunderstood me when I said I ran a half marathon. Apparently she took that to mean that I ran half of a marathon; that is, that I tried to run a marathon, hurt my leg, and only ran half of it.

If that's not a strong argument for re-naming that race, I don't know what is.

So, I spent Monday through today hobbling along. The leg has gotten a bit better every day, but I still look pretty pitiful. I was really eager to see the orthopedist today and find out what was what.

They started out by doing an x-ray of my leg. Then, I met with the doctor and she asked me some good questions about my injury, how long it had been bothering me, how severe the pain was, and how many miles I run at any given time.

She showed me my x-ray and said that she is 95% sure that it is not a stress fracture. Without a bone scan, she can't tell for sure, but evidence is that it is instead a stress reaction.

I know: stress reaction sounds totally made up. But I got a second opinion from Dr. Google. He explains that it is a trauma to the bone that doesn't actually fracture it. Silly name, bona-fide injury common in the tibia in distance runners.

So, here's the plan: no running for a while, though biking and swimming and the like are fine. Gradual return to running. I invest in a pair of orthotics. And I am also investigating the possibility of some physical therapy to build strength.

It's sad to be injured, but I know it could be a lot worse. And come next spring, I'll be back and ready to race more half marathons.

Race Report: Quad Cities Half Marathon

2009-09-28T20:07:00.002-05:00

So, during the course of my training for the Quad Cities Marathon's ~~half marathon~~ trisko, there was a little something I neglected to mention: a nagging pain in my left shin.

Why did this never come up? Well, for one thing, it wasn't that bad. It would be sore for a while after a run, but not too bad and it never slowed me down. But the little bugger persisted. For months. And if I actually said out loud that I had an injury that wasn't healing, then people might suggest something sensible, like that I not go out and race for 13.1 miles. And that was a conversation I was not interested in having.

Still, between that little nagging injury and the fact that my training has not been as focused this season (and that is another post altogether), I knew that this race would not be my best work. That's okay, though - they can't all be PRs, and I was very excited to run on a beautiful course, support my fellow club members, and have a good time.

I met my running club at the hideous hour of 6:30. We all wore our neon yellow training t-shirts and posed for a very bright group photo. Everyone was excited, especially the firs time marathoners. I was so glad that I decided to train with the group instead of on my own. The sense of camaraderie was great. The weather was a bit chilly, probably in the 50s, so I waited until the absolute last second to, as they say in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, pop off the shirt.

I think that the fact that I ran the 26.2 version of this race last year made me really appreciate the trisko course. It had all of the good - running over bridges across the Mississippi, stunning views of the river, friendly spectators, and a conveniently timed hot air balloon festival - and none of the tedium of spending far too long of a stretch running on Arsenal Island.

A half marathon, while more than half as easy as a full marathon, is still not easy. As I hit miles 10 and 11, I was feeling tired. I kept on pushing forward, though, knowing how close I was. I was definitely not on track for a PR (thanks in part to a bathroom break I took at mile 2, figuring that would help me enjoy the race more, especially without any records in the offing), but I still wanted to finish respectfully.

At mile 12, huge spasms shot up and down my left leg. They hurt so much that I actually said, "Ow!" out loud. But no matter, I kept on running listened to Steve, Jack, and my mom cheer me in, and happily crossed the finish line with a totally decent time of 2:05:32.

As soon as I did, that nagging injury, which was pretty quiet through the entire race, started screaming at me. I stayed on my feet and limped through the after party, figuring that would be better for me than sitting down. I enjoyed my first post-race massage, which was heavenly.

The bad news, Internet, is that my shin is in very bad shape. Standing or walking on it is incredibly painful, and walking up and down the stairs is an exercise in toughness. When I got to the post-race party my club had, I groaned when I saw I'd have to go up stairs to join everybody. Russ, my coach, immediately saw me limping and wanted to know what happened. He was glad to hear my plans to see my doctor and rest, though still concerned about me. The party was great. Everyone was in a celebratory mood. And Paul, the president of our club, had spent the entire day completing a slide show, set to music, that documented our training. It was amazing to see how long we'd all be running together and how hard we had all worked. It ended with shots of each and every one of us crossing the finish line.

I limped my way through work and limped my way to the doctor's office today. My doctor thinks that I have some kind of soft tissue damage and doesn't think that the bone is injured. I am going to an orthopedist on Thursday who will have a better assesment of what's wrong, and I will go on from there.

One of my co-workers saw me dragging my semi-useless leg around today and asked if I hurt myself, "In a one-legged ass-kicking contest." I like to think that's exactly what happened. I ran a great race despite what seems to be a bad injury, and I kicked ass.

Last one!

2009-09-22T07:35:00.002-05:00

Sunday marked my last long run before next week's ~~half marathon~~ trisko. The entire group - both those training for the marathon and for the trisko - ran eight miles. Russ, our coach, told us to run them easy, have fun, and try to run with somebody new.

That sounded like a good idea, so I kept my iPod in my pocket and found a couple of runners to hang out with for eight miles. I'm glad I did. Both women were training for their first marathon, and it was fun to hear what they were thinking about and how excited they were about their first race.

After the run, we had a potluck picnic. I read somewhere that runners have no guilt at the buffet table, and our training group definitely proved that. One guy loaded up his plate with both fried chicken and doughnuts. John, another of our coaches, had a cinnamon roll in one hand, and a beer in the other - a fine Sunday morning breakfast. My own breakfast included a ham sandwich, tuna noodle casserole (surprisingly delicious after an 8 mile run and before 9:00 in the morning), lots of fruit, and cake.

So now, with that last run behind me, I am feeling excited. I have my race day outfit ready to go (featuring a new pair of Wright Socks), have looked at the course map, and am excited to do some shopping at the expo. Let's get this party started.

Doping

2009-09-19T12:00:00.000-05:00

My ~~half marathon~~ trisko is a little over a week away. Since I'm husband-free this week and can't go out for a running, I'm grabbing inspiration elsewhere.

To kick things off, I am re-reading Once a Runner. Sure, the main character's race is 12.1 miles shorter than mine, but any runner can read this book and relate to what he's going through. It makes me want to throw on my running shoes, get out there, and WORK.

Then, I just finished watching my DVD of Spirit of the Marathon. I seriously think I should watch this movie before every single race that I run. I love that it shows the hard work and determination of the runners not just on race day, but during their training. It also makes me proud to see that the elite runners have many of the same challenges that the ordinary runners do.

Between Spirit of the Marathon and Once a Runner, I am so completely pumped to get out there and race that it may count as doping.

6.2 miles of friends

2009-09-17T20:32:00.003-05:00

This week's Take It and Run Thursday asks a fun question.

You get to run the last six miles of your next marathon with 6 different people. They can be dead or alive; famous or not famous. Who are these people and why did you pick them? Furthermore, why did you pick them for the specific mile you did? Remember, you get an extra .2 miles with runner #6.

Fun, right?

Mile 21: Ryan Reynolds. I think we are all aware of the simple fact that any good looking guy becomes exponentially better looking when you find out he's a runner. Ryan Reynolds is funny, seems to put a reasonabl eamount of effort into his core fitness, and has run a marathon before. Ryan and I would hang out in mile 21, and I'd be sympathetic to the fact that he doesn't get to run with his wife, Scarlett Johansson. That's got to be a bummer for him, and hopefully Scarlett wouldn't be too jealous of the time we were spending together. Poor girl probably has trouble running because of her enormous rack, a problem I do not share. I'd bid Ryan farewell, then it'd be time for

Mile 22: I would spend this mile hanging out with Non-Runner Nancy. In case you live under a rock, NRN recently faced an injury and surgery that she's recovering from nicely... but learned that running and her body don't mix. Well, through the magic of Take It and Run Thursday, Nancy can, in fact, run again. She would hand me her red lipstick, and the two o fus would laugh through that 22nd mile. Nancy would help me remember that, even in the hardest parts of any race, I should be grateful about the fact that I can run at all.

Mile 23: I'd spend the 23rd mile of the race with two of my favorite people in the world - my brother Andy and my sister Jenny. The three of us would spend so much time laughing and telling stories about each other that the miel would be over before I knew it... something that would definitely be appreciated so far into a marathon.

Mile 24: Mile 24 would mean time for a different kind of inspiration. Sharing this mile with me would be a group of women who would have to slow down one whole hell of a lot to hang out with me: Paula Radcliffe, Kara Goucher, Deena Kastor, Catherine "The Great" Ndereba, Joan Benoit-Samuelson, and Katherine Switzer. Their strength would carry me through that mile.

Mile 25: I would love to spend the 25th mile with the man who really turned me into a runner: my high school cross country coach, Jeff Quick. Coach Quick taught me a lot about running - how to do speedwork, how to run hills, the same stretching routines that I use today. He also taught me toughness, tenacity, and to trust my own instincts. I'd love to run with Quick to show him how those lessons have stuck with me.

Mile 26-26.2: The final 1.2 miles could only be spent with my guys, Steve and Jack. The fact of the matter is, I couldn't run at all if it weren't for the love and support that the two of them show me. Neither of them ever complains when I leave the house to go running. Steve always makes sure I get enough to eat after a long run, Jack always talks about how he wants to be a runner "like Mommy," and the two of them do a million other things every single day that help me get on my shoes and be my best. Steve and Jack would run that last 1.2 with me because the two of them are with me every step of the way. Every mile I run, not just in a marathon, but every inch of my training, I run with the two of them in my heart.

Taper Dreams

2009-09-16T20:15:00.002-05:00

Let's get this out of the way: it's been almost a month since my last post. In that time, I've been busying myself with a family vacation, a trip to the circus with Jack, beating Steve at Rummikub, working like a maniac, and... the occasional run.

My ~~half marathon~~ trisko is just a few weeks away. I've completed some really solid long runs, so I'm confident that I'll be able to finish the race in a respectable time. I'm also confident that this will not be my finest work ever.

I was chatting with Tom from Runners' Lounge recently. He said that to have a really successful race, everything has to come together: running, work, family - everything. It's a beautiful thing when it happens, but it's also rare. For me, for this race, the stars have not aligned. I think the biggest problem is that my shorter runs have lacked the intensity I've put into my long runs, so my speed work has not been very strong.

Why is this? Well, I've thought about it so much that it's a post in and of itself, so I'll shelf that one for later. Now I am truly excelling at tapering. In fact, I am over-achieving by not running at all. Steve is out of town this week, so I've been spending lots of time hanging out with Jack. I'll grab a 5 miler on Saturday, then run 8 with my training group on Sunday. Then, just a few easy runs before the race, and that's it.

Maybe it's been this lack of running that caused me to have a really crazy nightmare last night.

It was the day of the race, and I decided it would be a good idea to go to the dentist, "just really quick, before the race." Yes, in my dream, the dentist's office was open at 6:00 in the morning on a Sunday. Just go with it. The dentist had just finished telling me that I was going to need to get braces again (braces are a recurring theme in Betsy anxiety dreams)when I realized I had completely forgotten my running clothes at home.

I had to call my mom and ask her to go to my house to get them for me. I tried my best to walk her through the exact details of what I needed, because if you're running 13.1 miles, any old thing will not do. She kept getting distracted and couldn't find what I needed. My mom was ignoring my requests for the Wright Socks SLX or at least the DLX in favor of talking about how cute and little Jack's socks are when, mercifully, the alarm went off.

Runner II: Electric Boogaloo

2009-08-19T20:38:00.002-05:00

I set off for a 3 mile neighborhood run today to shake off the cobwebs of a day of hanging out with a sick little boy (croup + strep = no fun) and to test out my latest pair of WrightSocks, this time the Runner II.

I was overcome with a strong feeling of "Meh" about the whole thing. Lately, I've been pretty solidly rocking out my long runs, or at least getting through them in heroic efforts. But I am having trouble mustering up much enthusiasm for my shorter runs during the week. It is really not a good thing, you guys, because I can't run a great half marathon just based on great long runs.

Today, I attempted to make my neighborhood 3 miler a little more exciting by Running Like Jack. Running like Jack means occasionally tearing off at full tilt. And it means that if I see a puddle, I am going to blaze through it and splash as much as possible.

Running Like Jack made that 3 mile run more memorable and helped me muster up more enthusiasm for something that has gotten mundane. I am also happy to report that the Runner II held up like a champ. Even soaking wet, I had no blisters, chafing, or discomfort.

Not exactly what I had in mind

2009-08-16T20:34:00.004-05:00

I planned very carefully for today's 12 mile long run. And my run did not go remotely as planned.

The people in my training group who are preparing for the full marathon were doing their first 20 miler of the season, whereas we trisko runners were doing a mere 12. We got an email from one of the coaches advising us that it was going to be a hot today, so we should plan on hydrating carefully. Plus, to avoid some of the heat, we'd start at 6:15 rather than 7:00.

However, this weekend, Steve was away at a fraternity reunion in a cabin in remote Kentucky. How was I going to get away for a run? I obviously can't leave him alone, and it seemed like a lot to ask of my mom to come to Stately Wasser Manor at the crack of dawn. Then, I got a brainstorm - Jack and I would spend the night at my mom's house. I'd get up, go running, then the Cub and I would have breakfast with my mom and Doug. A huge bonus in this plan is that my mom can make the hell out of some blueberry pancakes.

I didn't sleep well, due to a combination of an unfamiliar bed, pillows other than my own, and sharing a bed with Jack. And then... my alarm didn't go off. I woke up an hour later than I should have.

A huge part of me wanted to just stay in bed and decide it wasn't meant to be. But I thought about how supportive my family was being, and that was enough to get me up and in my running shoes (and Wright Socks DLXes). I wasn't sure how to do a 12 miler from outside my usual base of operations, so I decided to break it into two 6 mile runs, stopping at the house in between for water breaks.

The weather was brutally hot and humid. In no time, I was completely soaked. And it was one of those days when nothing on my iPod was quite working for me. I kept hopping back and forth between podcasts and music. My heart definitely wasn't in it, and the miles, to put it mildly, did not fly by.

I've often heard that, in a marathon, you run the first 10 miles with your head, the next 10 with your legs, and the last 6.2 with your heart. I ran this entire 12 miler with my guts, just toughing it out because I knew that even if I didn't want to, I could do it.

When the run was over, I'd like to say that I felt triumphant, but I really just felt tired. Too tired, tragically, to even eat the blueberry pancakes.

The run was not exactly what I had in mind. But you know what was 100% awesome? The WrightSocks DLX. They were cushy and comfy, with that bit of snuggness at the arch that I like. Despite my profuse amounts of sweat (sexy), I had no problems at all with sweaty feet. Better still, I didn't have a single blister.

My Socksual Experience

2009-08-14T20:47:00.002-05:00

Friends, the Wright Socks Challenge is on!

Sock #1: The Cool Mesh. I wore this little friends on a 3 mile run on a business trip in San Antonio. I don't know if you all were aware of this, but it is really catlicking hot in Texas in August. Anyway, I thought that thin socks would be the way to go. They were comfortable and not hot, but I wasn't wowed. They were innocuous, though I've got to say, I think I like thicker socks better. So, it was on to...

Sock #2: The SLR. I wore this on a morning run to the Alamo. These were even more comfortable. They were a little thicker and even more comfortable. They're the kind of socks that hug you around your arches, which is delightful. They were a little thicker than the Cool Mesh, and I liked them better. But do I like them four times as much as the Target ones? I don't know... maybe not.

And then, there was Sock #3. This was the SLX. First of all, do they not look fast? They also hugged the arches of my feet and were the cushiest pair yet. I wore them on a 10 mile long run in brutally hot weather. Like the other two pair, they were quite comfortable and didn't annoy me in any way. But the very best news of all was that even on a long run on a sweaty day, I had no blister whatsoever. Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, we have a WINNER! I will definitely get those again.

More details of my socks life will follow.

My Socks Life

2009-08-08T11:04:00.003-05:00

My socks life has been pretty boring for quite a while.

For most of the time that I've been a runner, my socks have been totally vanilla. From 1984-2007, you could describe them in three words: cheap white cotton. When I decided to train for a marathon, I upgraded to cheap white non-cotton, fearing blisters.

Is it time for a socks change?

The fine folks at Wright Sock and Runners' Lounge think it might be. I have been chosen to participate in the Wright Socks challenge. I scored six pair of Wright Socks to test and review here on my blog. You might be wondering if that means that you can expect more of this cringe-inducing sock puns for the duration of the challenge. Yes, you can. To do anything less would be to admit de-feet.

My current socks of choice, the cheap white non-cottons, are C9 from Target. Do I like them? Eh, they're okay. They serve their purpose of providing a barrier between my foot and my shoe, but they don't really do much else. I do get blisters after long runs, though Body Glide seems to make that a little better. They are comfortable enough, and I can get them readily for about two bucks a pair.

That might not seem like much, but as far as I'm concerned, the Wright Socks have a lot to live up to. I can't throw a pair in the cart while I'm stocking up on paper towels. And at five or six bucks a pair, they better do more than just provide a barrier between my shoes and my feet. If I'm going to abandon the C9's, they need to (wait for it...) knock my socks off.

My box of socks arrived Thursday, and they look fantastic. There are all different kinds to try - thick, thin, double-layer, and single layer. The first pair will be tested today.

How Runner Are You?

2009-08-05T07:21:00.002-05:00

How much does being a runner influence your day to day life? I was thinking about this when, a few weeks ago, I decided to cut my hair. It was below my shoulders (which is Crystal Gayle levels of long for me) and getting a bit scraggly. The very first thing I said to the stylist was, "I'm a runner - how much can you cut off for me to still be able to have a ponytail?" And anytime I get a pedicure (admittedly rare), I make sure I tell the aesthetician, before she so much as fills the foot bath, that I am a runner and she'd best not mess with my calluses.

On the other hand, I rarely dress like a runner unless I'm actually running. And by "dress like a runner," I don't mean "wear a singlet and tights to the grocery store." I mean, there are people who I can immediately peg as runners even when they are in their civilian garb. That is because that civilian garb consists of race t-shirts with jeans or shorts and an old pair of running shoes. I don't do that (at least not very often). To prove my point: when I'm not wearing running shoes, I am usually wearing heels.

What about you? How runner are you?

The Way You Look Tonight

2009-08-04T19:48:00.003-05:00

Tonight was one of those ordinary nights that is, at the same time, special and magical.

Jack and I went to Lincoln Park to listen to a band, bringing with us a picnic of McDonald's. Then we played on the playground, where he was a knight and I was a dragon. I said it was time to go, but he wanted to dance.

The band was playing "The Way You Look Tonight." I looked down at my dance partner, four years old, wearing a t-shirt that's too big for him and his favorite pair of faded red shorts. He was covered in a mixture of sweat, dirt, and chocolate. And his dancing consisted of manic spinning and flailing arms.

The lyrics were apt:

Lovely... Never, ever change.
Keep that breathless charm.
Won't you please arrange it?
'Cause I love you... Just the way you look tonight.

Garmin's Many Uses

2009-08-04T06:15:00.002-05:00

Devoted followers of the Church of Garmin (praise be thy name) know that it is an invaluable tool for runners. Garmin can track your time, pace, distance, and elevation. It can record splits of any length or beep at you if you're going too fast or too slow. It can pit you against a virtual opponent in a race, graph your running history over time, and help you find your way home if you're lost.

I have also heard that it can tell time, but that feature's a little harder to find than the rest.

Recently, I uncovered another of Garmin's many widgets, one I was not aware of before. Garmin is also an effective babysitter.

I came home from a run, and Jack's desire to be entertained didn't mesh well with my desire to sit on a chair and drink Gatorade. Then, I had a holy Garmin vision (praise be thy name), divine inspiration if you will.

I put Paula Garmin on Jack's wrist and told him to run around the backyard so I could see how fast he was going. Jack thought this was the coolest idea ever. I gave him my iPod (tuned to the Captain Cubtastic mix) and added a headband to hold in the earphones. The result looked like this:

Garmin then proceeded to entertain Jack until dinner time. He raced around the back yard, creating obstacles for himself, and singing along to his music (particular favorite: "We Will Rock You"). My job was to occasionally throw out some encouragement: "You're doing great!" or "Don't stop running" bought me plenty more valuable chair sitting time.

His average pace was 15:something, probably slowed by the zillions of times he fell, the one time his shorts fell down, and the times he spent hiding behind a tree.

Now we just need Garmin to come out with My First Forerunner, because as this picture of Jack after the Bix illustrates, my boy loves to run.

Race Report: Bix 7

2009-07-27T07:06:00.003-05:00

I had big plans for this year's Bix 7. I was going to smash my PR of 1:06:58 and run it in 1:03. I was pretty sure I could do it - I recently ran a 10 miler at 9:02 pace. Subtract three miles and add in crowds and hills, and it seemed challenging, but possible.

But plans change. What was going to be a tough race turned into a weekend of running with my guys.

Friday night was the Junior Bix. Jack was incredibly pumped for his race. I got him dressed in his Quad Cities Micro Marathon t-shirt, since Jack is certainly not going to run wearing the race t-shirt, a fact that the vast majority of the other kids were clearly unaware of. Amateurs! On the walk from the car to the starting line, Jack asked me at least three times if I would run the race with him. Every time, I answered, "Yes, if you want me to. Or if you want to run by yourself, that's fine too."

Jack insisted that we would run together - and we did, holding hands the whole way. Running with Jack is good for my spirit. All I need to do is see the joy on his face as he races to the finish line and the pride he feels upon finishing and I am reminded of my own love for the sport.

As for Steve, he was more nervous about the big race on Saturday. Last year, he ran the race despite not training well, and he suffered for it. Steve announced months ago that his goal was to run the Bix without feeling like he was going to die afterwards - and enlisted me as his coach. I put him through a series of long runs of gradually increasing distances, intermixed with the Gentleman's Three (a relaxed three-miler) and 5K's for fun. We also ran the Bix at Six training run a few weeks prior to the race, so I knew he could do it.

Steve was less confident and asked me if I would run the race with him. That was not my plan, and as visions of my 1:03 finish faded away, I said, "Um, do you want me to?" He nodded and said, "I'm asking you to." It was clear that he needed me, for moral support at least, so I agreed to run the Bix not as a racer, but instead as a coach.

Race morning! Steve woke up feeling more excited than nervous. He declared that his goal was to run the race at 12:00 pace - a more ambitious goal than "finish and not want to die," but one I was sure he could achieve. I made sure he had a good breakfast, both water and coffee,and a couple of Advil. Then we engaged in my favorite pre-race ritual of people watching - cute couples ready to run together, gaunt high school cross country boys, a shirtless guy in denim shorts, and spectators smoking cigarettes and squinting at us uncomprehendingly. The Bix is held at the end of July every year, and really, the end of July in the Midwest is a typically horrible time for running. But the weather was unseasonably cool, in the 70s, with delightful breezes. It was a great day to run, and I wondered if course records would be set.

The gun went off, and about ten minutes later, we crossed the starting line and began our assent of the Brady Street hill. The hill is about 1/4 mile long, with a challenging grade. We spent a lot of time weaving around people who apparently decided to walk it while standing shoulder to shoulder with five of their closest friends. We finished the first mile in just over 12:00, which is excellent given both the hill and the crowds.

Steve was relaxed and comfortable in the second mile. We saw Meb Keflezighi looking fantastic with a huge lead (he went on to win with a blazing time of 32:25). I later found out that Magdalena Lewy Boulet was also racing. It felt great to be running the very same race as such elite athletes! Equally cool, we ran mile two behind a phalanx of firefighters that included two who had been injured in the line of duty and were racing in wheelchairs. At the two mile mark, I heard another runner remark, "That was only two miles? You've got to be kidding me!" Steve still looked great.

People talk about the Brady Street hill when they talk about the Bix, probably because it's big and at the very start of the race. But to me, the hardest part of the course comes in the third and fourth miles, where there are steep rolling hills. Steve was a little quieter, but was still running strong.

At around mile five, Steve asked me to run a little slower. I was proud of him for opting to do that, rather than walking. I babbled away, hoping to distract him by making up a plot for "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" in which the gang runs a 5K. Steve told me later that it was obvious that I was trying to distract him, but that he appreciated it nevertheless. When I told him we had just a mile and a half to go, he was thrilled, not having realized we'd crossed the five mile mark.

Soon, we turned to run back down the big hill. I advised Steve to relax and let the hill do some of the work for him. Some of the runners around us were clearly suffering, but Steve was hanging in there pretty well. I reminded him that we were almost finished, just a mile, less than a mile to go. "You've got this," I told him.

At the bottom of the hill, the finish line was in sight. Steve picked up his pace, knowing that the race was almost over. We crossed the finish line holding hands with a time of 1:19:48.

Steve's 2008 time was 1:33:51. Not only did he finish the race feeling strong, not only did he beat his 12:00 pace goal, but he shaved two minutes per mile off his previous pace! I could not be more proud of him.

My weekend may not have included the PR I was planning, but instead, I got to enjoy running with the two people I love most.

I'm Going on a Long Run

2009-07-20T21:23:00.003-05:00

Lately, the song "Going on a Bear Hunt" has been running through my head... but with some slightly different words. Sing it with me!

I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a swamp-uh!
Can't go over it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go through it!

I did indeed encounter a swamp on a recent long run. I was out with my running club a few days after a rain that would best be described as "monsoon-like." The path was still covered with puddles, patches of mud, and so on. The miles flew by as I'd come across a new obstacle and decide if the mud/water/gunk was too deep to run through.

One of the times I decided that it was too deep, I veered to the right hand side of the path. The other runners had the opposite instinct and went left.

I chose wrong.

Within seconds, I was sloshing through swampy long grass, soaking my feet up to my ankles, and giving my three-day old running shoes (Brooks Adrenaline, btw) some character. Everyone had a good laugh.

I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a hill-uh!
Can't go through it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go up it!

For this week's long run, we started at a different park than usual. My fellow ~~half marathon~~ trisko runners and I did ten miles. I was feeling great (9:02 pace makes me want to use the f-word), and the setting was beautiful. I saw two baby deer as I crossed 9-1/2 miles. I even managed to finish mile 10 as a great song finished on my iPod.

Then I remembered that in order to get back to our picnic shelter, my car, and my Oxysox, I would have to go up a gigantic hill.

I'd given those 10 miles everything I had, and Internet, my calves were burning. Still, I thought about the popsicles and watermelon that were waiting for me, and I climbed that hill.

As runners, we learn to meet obstacles head-on. We learn how strong we are, and we learn that when something daunting is ahead of us, we can confidentlly say, "I'm not afraid!"

Babyproof No More

2009-07-17T07:32:00.002-05:00

As soon as Jack was even thinking about being mobile, Steve and I babyproofed the utter hell out of our house. Every stairway had a gate on it. Every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was locked. Plug-ins had covers on them, and I bought a cover to keep him from turning off the computer. We even had locks on the toilets to keep him from chucking stuff into them.

When we left our house in Virginia and moved into Stately Wasser Manor, he was two years old and a lot more steady on his feet. We got rid of the gates on the stairs, the locks on the drawers and cabinets, and the plug covers.

But we did keep all of our cleaning products way up high in the pantry. If I needed to run the dishwasher (which it seems like I do every day, rolling that rock up the hill), I have to walk to the pantry to get it, then put it back away again.

This morning, it occurred to me that was unnecessary. I moved all of the kitchen cleaning products to under the sink, where nature intended them to be. This time, my childproofing consisted of a single conversation.

Me: Hey, Jack! See this stuff here?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Leave it alone.
Jack: Of course.

I have felt this many times over the past four and a half years, but Jack really seems to be at an ideal age. He's little and cute and charming, but he can also be quite reasonable.

The F-Word

2009-07-02T07:07:00.002-05:00

Take It and Run Thursday challenges us this week to write about something controversial in the running world. To that I say fine, but just remember it was your idea, because today, I'm going to use The F-Word, a word that running bloggers everywhere are afraid to use. In a few minutes, this post is going to be riddled with F-bombs. You have been warned. Here it is:

Fast.

That's right, I said it: Fast.

It's just a little word, right? So why are so many of my fellow runners afraid to use it to describe themselves?

I have read many race reports about new PR's, the really great kind that smashed the previous best... without a single use of the F-Word. Descriptions of blistering track workouts, pounding out 400 meter repeats... without anyone so much as whispering F-A-S-T. I've even seen truly talented runners demur from using that word to describe races where they've placed or even won. The closest thing you'll hear is, "I finished with a really good time."

You didn't finish with a really good time, my friend. You were FAST! The fact of the matter is, there are a lot of runners out in the blogosphere who are extremely fast runners and just won't admit it. I read several race reports from the Boston Marathon in which the blogger noted that they'd never felt so middle of the pack as they did in Boston. Okay, so maybe you weren't in that lead pack in Boston, but if you were running the Boston Marathon at all? Let's face it: You. Are. Fast.

Is it modesty? It's true that runners are really nice and inclusive people. If I brag about how fast my 23:44 5K race was, I don't want to discount the accomplishment of a fellow runner who worked just as hard to finish in 30:00. Or, are we comparing ourselves to elite runners? Tirunesh Dibaba of Ethiopia is the fastest woman to run a 5K, and her time of 14:11:15 makes my 23:44 look like walking. Can I really call myself fast compared to her?

Yes. I am fast. And so is Tirunesh Dibaba, so are the Boston qualifiers, and so is my fellow runner who worked her butt of to score that 30:00 5K.

We all have our own Fast. Fast happens for all of us when everything clicks together just right, when we feel like we're flying, when our lungs are burning, and when we look at the time on the clock (or just the feeling in our hearts) and it is good.

I challenge you, my fellow runners, to own your Fast. To embrace the F-Word. And to shout from the rooftops when you have an amazing workout, run a strong race, or get a PR these words:

I am fast.

Race Report: Surprise Track Meet

2009-07-01T06:36:00.003-05:00

Last night, I went to the track at Augustana College for my running club's weekly track workout. To my surprise, there was a track meet going on. People were setting up hurdles, pole vaulters were warming up, and the place was teeming with people of all ages in brightly colored running clothes. Just as I was starting to think that my plans to run on the track with the club had changed, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: Cornbelt Runners, go find Russ. He'll give you your bib number.

Well, allrighty, then.

I tracked down Russ, who is our coach, and several other runners trickled in with me. "Russ, what do you have cooked up for us?" I asked. Russ grinned and said that we were going to run in the 1500 meter race.

I have to admit, one of the first things I thought was, "If I'd known I was running a race, I'd have worn something different." My black running skirt and neon yellow marathon training group just isn't the fastest looking outfit I have. But so be it, because my second thought was, "Hey, all I have to run is a 1500? Nice!"

I warmed up and chatted with my fellow runners. Several of them had never run a race so short and had never run a track meet at all, so the excitement and nerves were high. Before I knew it, it was time for the 1500. All of the Cornbelt Running Club runners walked over to the starting line - and there were a lot of us! They had the women go first, followed by the men. And we women were joined by several kids.

Now, I have learned my lesson about kids at track meets. I ran against several of them at
an indoor meet in January, and they are freaking fast. I immediately decided to just discount the kids and focus on running against the grown-ups. We women rationalize that it was okay if the kids beat us because, um, they didn't have to work all day.

The gun was off, and so was I - probably way too fast. I glanced down at Paula The Garmin in the first 200 meters or so and saw that my pace was at a 5:something mile. I resolved to relax. Before long, there were a couple kids in front of me (ignored the little scamps), along with Kathy, who I know is one of the best runners in the area. I figured I'd have no chance of catching up to her, and sure enough, I think she ended up finishing about 150 meters ahead of me.

At around the second lap, a younger woman passed me as well. I focused on running strong, keeping my arms relaxed, and making a game of pretending to be the main character from Once A Runner, out running the mile of my life.

In the final straightaway, I picked up my pace and shaved quite a lot off of my time by chasing after one of those young whippersnappers. No, I didn't actually catch him, but again, kids are fast.

My final (unofficial, Paula Garmin) time was a speedy 6:11, putting me as the third grown-up to finish the race, and probably first in my age group if I'm right about the ages of the other two women.

I spent the rest of the night on an absolute runner's high. I hung out and watched the guys run, then headed home. As I was pulling up to Stately Wasser Manor, I saw Steve out for a run, so I parked the car and joined him for a Gentleman's Three, a great opportunity to cool down and tell him all about the race.

Lonely Too Long

2009-06-28T08:17:00.000-05:00

For a long time, I've really preferred to run alone. That's still true - the solitude and silence can be absolutely great. But at the same time, I really want to get more involved in my local running community. I want to know my fellow runners and be able to chat with people I see at races - that was one of my 2009 goals. So, when the opportunity to join a training group for the Quad Cities Distance Classic ~~half marathon~~ trisko, I decided to go for it.

Turns out, running with a group is fun... and doesn't cramp my style at all. There are cool people to hang out and talk with before we hit the trails. I usually end up running by myself, but I can join someone else if I want to.

So, when the opportunity presented itself through my running club to train for fall races, I jumped on it. For fifty bucks, I get supported group runs every week, coaching, access to weekly track workouts, a discount for the Quad Cities Marathon or trisko, a pasta party, and a t-shirt. Sold!

The group has been wildly popular. There are 120 people signed up right now to train for fall marathons and triskos. Last Tuesday, I went to my first group track workout and saw that about a hundred people showed up. One hundred people, willing to do speedwork on a sweltering hot Tuesday night! I am so proud of my running club.

Tremmy

2009-06-27T07:58:00.003-05:00

Jack likes to play a game in the car in which his various stuffed animals call him on the phone. Emmy will call to make sure he's not doing anything dangerous (which is a problem because Emmy tends to think just about everything is dangerous), or Roary will call to say he misses him and to ask when he's coming home.

One day, Jack mixed it up by getting a phone call from "Tremmy." We told Tremmy she had the wrong number, but she kept on calling back, Jack laughing progressively harder every time. Tremmy started calling us more and more often. The phone calls would go like this...

Jack: Ring, ring!
Me: Oh, no. That's going to be Tremmy.
Jack: (giggling)
Me: Hello?
Tremmy (aka Jack): Tremmy!
Me: Hi, Tremmy.
Tremmy: I am just calling to say that I have a big bag of mice.
Me: Oh, no. Tremmy, what could you possibly be doing with all of those mice?
Tremmy: I'm going to throw them at every light in the city!

Steve and I started to wonder more about Tremmy, so when she called, we asked her what kind of animal she was. Jack/Tremmy told us that she was a bird. That sounded about right to us, some kind of crazy looking bird.

So, imagine our surprise when we were at the mall and saw this crazy-looking bird:

It could only be Tremmy.

Tremmy lives with us now, but that doesn't stop her from calling us with crazy news, such as that she smeared all of the toothpaste on the windows and was throwing mice at it to see if they'd stick (Tremmy says they do not).

I am really proud of Jack's amazing imagination and sense of humor. Only Jack could invent a crazy bird who spends too much time on the phone and does weird things to mice.

What else is Jack doing? Oh, being a kid. See?

Like, eating only the middle of his Oreos.

And running through the sprinklers.

It's good to be a kid.

Running in an Oven

2009-06-18T21:58:00.002-05:00

I have spent the time since 13.1 Chicago feeling like a bit of a slacker. Maybe that's not fair; the race was on a Sunday. I was travelling in the middle of the week, but got up early Wednesday morning to run a Gentleman's Three. And then on Saturday, I ran Race for the Cure with Steve (yes, I owe you a race report). So, it's not like I haven't been running, but the intensity hasn't been there since that last ~~half marathon~~ trisko.

Today presented a golden opportunity: The Bix at Six.

The Bix 7 is one of my favorite races, it being a challenging seven mile course that attracts elite runners. It's pretty cool when your hometown race is popular to the extent that there are statues of Bill Rodgers and Joan Benoit Samuelson, no? And the Bix at Six is a series of training runs, open to the public, that are on the race course.

I have said it before, and I'll say it again: it is so damned cool to have a local race that is such a draw that hundreds of people show up for a training run, the streets are blocked off, and there are water stops.

I left the office after work and hurried home to grab a quick sandwich and to change clothes. As soon as I opened the door to go outside, I knew it was going to be a tough night: it was blazing hot and humid to the point where I felt like I was inside an oven.

Uh-oh.

This summer, so far, has been blessedly mild, so this was the first really hot weather run I'd done. And having that start out with seven miles worth of hills, after not running a whole lot was a recipe for disaster... baked in the oven I was running in.

So, I made a promise to myself to take it easy and have this run be my first one in getting acclimated to the heat. I dressed in a tank top and running skirt, strapped on the Batman utility belt filled with Gatorade. I was sweating before I even started running. I slowed my pace way down, cut the course to about 5 miles, and took frequent walk breaks. I also make the delightful discovery that my makeup, which has an SPF in it, immediately melts into horrifying pools of poison when I sweat.

Was this the most fun run ever? No, it was not. But it could have been a lot worse. I am going to tough it out through my next couple of oven runs until the heat doesn't seem like such a big deal after all. And I will sing the praises of the glorious volunteers, who actually had ice water.

Race Report: 13.1 Chicago

2009-06-09T09:24:00.002-05:00

When we last left off, I had a bag of frozen peas tied to my ankle and was trying not to freak out about an injury that could make running 13.1 miles tricky to say the least. I am happy to report that the peas and their ally the Advil did their job: by Saturday morning, my ankle was no longer bothering me.

Steve, Jack, and I left Saturday morning for Chicago. It was a lot of fun taking Jack to a big city for the first time. He found absolutely everything fascinating: the tall buildings, the pigeons, and all of the people. He also noted, "Chicago is noisy," which was especially true since we were near El tracks most of the time. There were also several firsts for Jack - his first ride in a taxi - with no car seat - and his first ride on a Ferris wheel. He seemed to find them equally thrilling.

There are, of course, lots of things to see and do in Chicago, but we decided to keep it simple. We went to Navy Pier to ride the aforementioned Ferris wheel, then went to the Chicago Children's Museum. The museum was a lot of fun, with many the opportunity for Jack to put on costumes, play music, and so on. The best part was a huge net that he climbed way up and around, like a pirate's ship. Jack pretty much did that over and over again until the museum closed. Jack spotted a pirate show on a stage nearby, so we watched that, then had pasta for dinner. On the way back to the hotel, we took a quick detour to the toy department at the old Marshall Field's store (which I hate to acknowledge as a Macy's), where he selected a cat. Jack introduced Kitty Kit to Vincent, the doorman at the hotel, then we headed to bed at the ripe old hour of 8:30.

Naturally, it was onlhy too soon that my alarm went off at 5:00. I had my clothes laid out in the bathroom so I was able to quickly get dressed and head out. I ignored sage advice and wore a new outfit for the race: a bright pink Asics singlet with a black and grey Race Ready skirt. I highly recommend the Race Ready skirt. All along the small of my back were mesh pockets, with elastic holdin git in almost bungee style. I was able to easily carry my iPod, phone, a couple packs of Biofreeze (I was still worried about my ankle), emergency cash, and two packs of sport beans. It was also really easy to get things in and out of the pockets. I'll definitely be buying the skirt in more colors.

Chicago at 5:00 in the morning on a Sunday is virtually desserted. I walked out of the hotel and didn't see another person for a few minutes. Then, I saw groups of runners all headed towards Millenium Park, ready to catch the shuttle buses to the start. The bus service was smooth and easy - very well organized.

We arrived at the South Shore Cultural Center, a lovely building where the Obamas had their wedding reception (Steve noted that it probably didn't smell like sweat that day). It was then that I discovered a crisis: there was no coffee anywhere near by. The Starbucks near my hotel was not open yet, and there was absolutely nothing near the starting line. No caffiene is not a good thing for me. My coffee addiction is a bit like heroin addiction in that the first hit isn't so much to make me feel good as it is to keep me from feeling bad. I ate my second emergency pack of sport beans, figuring at least that would get some caffiene in my system.

The energy at the starting line was terrific. Rob Powers did the announcing, the White Sox mascot was wandering around, as were actors playing the Blues Brothers. The start was organized in waves, which was a first for me. Each wave got its own pomp (music that introduced the Blues Brothers in the movie), and there was ample space between each wave so that the paths were never crowded. It was terrific, and more races should do this.

The course itself was spectacular. It was an absolute thrill to run alongside Lake Michigan with a view of the Chicago skyline. Support was impressive, with water and Gatorade available approximately every mile. I also saw lots of Brightroom photographers, so here's hoping that there will be some good pictures of me.

And how'd I do? Well, for the first 11 miles, I felt awesome. Then I started to fade. I'm not sure why. I'd like to blame the lack of coffee, but it may just be that I wasn't quite as focused and mentally strong as I was when I ran the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Nevertheless, I kicked it up a notch, waved to Steve and Jack, and finished strong with a final time of 2:00:56.

The finisher's medal is the most gigantic thing you ever saw. It's a 13.1 (with the decimal point actually spin-able), easily twice as big as any of my other medals, and in gold. I feel like a rapper in it.

It was a spectacular way to end my spring Trisko Festival. When it was all said and done, I ran three ~~half marathons~~ triskos in just under a month - and had a blast doing it.

Give Peas a Chance

2009-06-04T12:57:00.003-05:00

Bad news, Internet: I am writing to you with a bag of frozen peas tied to my ankle.

Non-runners may think that this is a curious fashion statement, but runners will immediately know that this means that I have somehow injured my Achilles tendon. And since I have a ~~half marathon~~ trisko on Sunday (13.1 Chicago), this is a very bad development.

I felt a teeny bit of discomfort after my 10 miler on Sunday, but nothing to write home about. Then yesterday I set out to run a fast 3 and it started to really bother me.

The plan, between now and Sunday, is to baby it. I'm going to tie on the peas (not a euphemism) three or so times a day, take Advil every 4 hours, avoid high heels, and rest up.

Everybody think healing thoughts for me!

Happy Birthday, Roary!

2009-06-01T12:22:00.002-05:00

Another year has passed since Roary went from being a random cat/tiger sitting on our coffee table to becoming Jack's steadfast companion. Things have changed a little bit for Roary since his last birthday. The biggest change is that he now has an entire family of tigers living with us - Emmy, Garfield, Nicey, and Cutie. Roary shares Jack's affections with all of them, and an extended family of "stuffed guys." Jack's divided attention hasn't meant less love for Roary, though. Jack loves all of his animals, but Roary remains the king, the one Jack always comes to when he most needs comfort. If anything, Jack's love has grown bigger.

When Jack is sad or hurt, he looks to Roary for a tail rub (and in fact inspects most other stuffed animals for tail rubbing possibilities before buying them). And if Jack sees that someone else needs comfort, Roary offers tail rubs to them, too.

I know that many people will think I'm a little nutty for celebrating a stuffed animal's birthday, but Roary is truly a valuable part of our team. I know that the two of them crack each other up. I know that I can count on Roary to entertain Jack during long car rides. I know that the two of them even argue sometimes, as evidenced by Jack putting Roary in "time out" outside his room because "Roary would not stop talking and I needed to go to sleep." I know that when Jack needs extra love, Roary is there for him. Every time I go away on a work trip, I give Roary extra kisses before I leave. I know that they'll get to Jack when he needs them.

Happy birthday, Roary, the best tiger a kid ever had.

It's Good to Be Back

2009-05-31T18:50:00.002-05:00

As much as I try to be flexible, life can get in the way of running sometimes. This week was especially tough. I wanted to take a few days off after my ~~half marathon~~ trisko. Then I had some busy work days. Then Jack wasn't feeling well. Things kept piling on, and it wasn't until Saturday that I was able to get a run in.

Not running is really bad for my brain. Things were stressful at work, but I know they effected me more than usual. When I started to dream about checking emails from my phone, I knew the crazy was out of control.

On Saturday, I ran a relaxed five miles, It felt fantastic. Today was even better. I got up early and ran ten miles at trisko pace + 20 seconds. I ran from Moline to Rock Island, then across the Mississippi River into Davenport. Then I passed the baseball park and ran along the river to cross at the Arsenal Island bridge. I ended with a challenging run through the campus of Augustana College. It's one of my favorite courses. I felt really fortunate to be able to run in such amazing places.

More importantly, I think my head is back where I need it to be. I feel ready to go back to work tomorrow and am confident I can handle what's thrown at me.

Race Report: Madison Half Marathon

2009-05-28T07:00:00.004-05:00

The night before the Madison ~~half marathon~~ trisko, my cousin Michael's wife Ana (who is Italian and thus a fantastic person to have nearby the night before a race) asked a simple question:

"Why would anyone want to run a marathon or half marathon?"

My brother, running the full, gave the Everest answer - "Because it's there." I expanded on that, saying that a huge part of the appeal of running a long distance race is that it's really hard to do. It's challenging to train for it, and it's even more challenging to complete it. That challenge gives you a tremendous sense of accomplishment that we don't get to experience in our normal day-to-day lives. Andy agreed and said that it feels amazing when you finish, and the beer you drink after a marathon is the greatest one you've ever had.

Little did we know that struggle and challenge would be so much on our minds the next day.

As always, I'm getting ahead of myself.

It had been a challenging couple of weeks. Solid travel for work meant lots of time way from Steve and Jack. Steve had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I decided Madison could be a Mommy-Son roadtrip. It was also a chance to spend some time with some of my favorite family members - my brother, my aunt and uncle, and three of my cousins. In between, I'd throw in a half marathon. Really, what could go wrong?

Andy and I hit the Expo, and I showed tremendous restraint, buying just a new hat with the race logo on it. They also had t-shirts that proclaimed, "Will run for beer, cheese, and brats," and I don't know how Andy resisted the "26.2 Miles? You Betcha!" shirt. In the brief time we were there, Jack convinced my Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Chuck to take him to the brat festival, where he won a stuffed dolphin and three snakes. Good thing, since I think he only brought about 20 stuffed animals from home.

Back at the house, the Italian relatives cooked a huge feast of pasta and bread. It was completely fabulous. It being Wisconsin, there was also a lot of cheese. Excellent.

Jack and I decided to share a bed, which meant about a hundred years of him playing with my hair, having various tigers kiss me goodnight, and me saying over and over, "Quit kicking your legs or I swear, I will make you sleep on the floor." He finally conked out, leaving me to sleep, then wake up at 12:30, 4:00, and finally 5:00 when it was time to get up. Not good.

After bagels and coffee, Uncle Chuck drove Andy and me to the starting line, explaining that we shouldn't have to deal with parking. We did some people watching, enjoyed some pre-race nervous peeing, and I finally bid Andy goodbye to take to the starting line. Madison is an unusual race in that the half starts before the full marathon. It's really a good thing, as it's best to just stay out of each other's hair.

The starting line was really crowded. I actually wasn't able to fit on the pavement and just stood in the dirt and funneled through when the gun went off. No big deal, since it was chip-timed, but I wonder if they'll change that in future yeas.

I ran the first few miles near the 2:00 pacer, figuring I'd run there for a while, then pick it up in the final miles. That was not meant to be. At mile 4, I felt incredibly tired. And not tired legs, my friends. Tired, like, I could take a nap on this comfy pavement tired. Two weeks of travel and poor sleep caught up to me. I felt lousy.

Then, I made a decision: if I wasn't going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time. I made an effort to take in the sights of the very pretty course - we ran past three different lakes, past the Badger football stadium, through lovely neighborhoods, and through University of Wisconsin's campus. The volunteers and spectators were all friendly. It was great.

I finished in 2:06, nine minutes slower than my PR, and one minute slower than my previous slowest time. But what are you going to do?

I met up with Phyllis, Chuck, and Jack so we could watch Andy run. At mile 18 or so, he looked pretty good. At mile 23, he looked okay, too. I ran with him for a few steps and told him where to meet us afterwards. He said he wasn't feeling great, thanks to the remains of a cold he was fighing. Then we headed to the finish line. I saw lots of people who had been running around where Andy was, and Jack and I had fun cheering for them. But no Andy. I was worried. I know that a lot can go wrong in just 3 miles.

But finally, he was there. I yelled, "Go, Andy! Don't let them run out of beer!" Jack chased after Andy and ran with him for a little while, which Andy later said actually helped him.

Chuck went to find Andy at the meeting spot and he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Jack and went to look for him. My fear, which I didn't share with anyone, was that he might be in the medical tent. Thank Yoda he was okay - my cell phone rang a minute later. It was my mom - Andy borrowed someone's cell phone and called her to tell me where he was. Andy explained that yes, I'd told him where to meet, but that in those last three miles it fell out of his brain. Totally understandable. He, too, was far beyond his goal time.

The good thing is, he kept it all in perspective, just as I was working to do. Sometimes, it's just not your day. Neither of us was racing under peak conditions.

And remember what I said before about part of the appeal of racing long distances being how hard it can be? Well, because it's hard, sometimes you're not going to succeed. If you hit your goal or set a PR every time you toe the line, then you're not setting tough enough goals. Finishing a race strong and getting a PR is an amazing feeling; I know since it happened to me just a few weeks ago. But the other side of the coin is real, too. There is some value, even some satisfaction that can come from working hard at something and not making the mark.

Race Report: Imagination Library 5K

2009-05-19T05:40:00.003-05:00

One of the things that definitely rocks about running ~~half marathons~~ triskos is that I can easily work other races into my training - even into recovery. So, less than a week after my Total Trisko Triumph, I ran the Imagination Library 5K as a training run with Steve.

Steve, as faithful Coffee Betsy readers know, is training for the Bix 7 with the admirable goal of not feeling like he is going to die when it's over. I'm scheduling some 5K races not so much for speedwork, but more to make things fun. I decided we should run together, partly so I'd remember to keep my pace slow enough for a recovery run, partly because Steve is fun to hang out with.

When we arrived at the starting line, I was a little bit bummed that I wasn't truly racing it. The weather was kind of lousy - cold and really windy, which made for a poor turnout. A 5K with a poor turnout is totally in my wheelhouse, and looking at the times for my age group, I probably would have finished second. But no matter - the point was to have fun, and that we did.

The race started at a park by the Mississippi River, then followed the bike/running path at a simple out and back. It turns out it's a good thing there weren't many people there, because things were getting mighty crowded in the middle of the pack where we were hanging. I wonder if they will have to alter the course in the future.

It was great to be able to go for a run with Steve, something we used to do together a lot, but haven't done much in a long time. It was especially well timed because I'd just returned from a three-day work trip in Charlotte and was gearing up for a week of more trips. A 5K may not provide a lot of time for us to just hang out together, but it was a nice start.

We hit the three mile mark, and my mom and Jack were there cheering for us like crazy. We waved Jack over so he could finish the race with us, and that thrilled him. The three of us crossed the line together holding hands.

The thing that surprised me the most about the race was that it was swag-tastic. We got the typical cotton t-shirts, which featured a cute picture of a running book, but our goodie bags also included Cliff or Luna bars, coupons for free Chick-Fil-A sandwiches, and best of all free tickets to go to a Quad City River Bandits baseball game! They even had finisher's medals, and the volunteer was kind enough to give one to Jack even though he'd run bandit - they must have had plenty. After the race, there were more Cliff and Luna bars, bottles of water with BioFreeze samples tied to them, and all kinds of food. They also had bounce castles and were getting ready to set up craft tables and face painting. I felt bad for the organizers because the weather was so lousy that people didn't really stick around afterwards like they would have. I hope they try again next year and have better weather. I'll be there for sure.

Don't Mess With Dehydration

2009-05-14T09:57:00.004-05:00

This week's Take It and Run Thursday is about gearing up for warm weather running. My advice on this subject is so simple that it is pretty well condensed just in my title. I am hoping that you will still continue to read.

Yes?

Good, thanks.

So, we have all read that drinking water/Gatorade/whatnot while running is important and that getting dehydrated is bad. It is such a simple concept that we haven't really absorbed it. Dehydration kind of doesn't seem like that big of a deal; I mean, it seems easily solved, doesn't it? Run in hot weather, get thirsty, drink water. Done and done!

But there's a little bit more to it than that. The thing is, we need to avoid getting to the point where dehydration is a problem to be solved. I think that the first step is to understand just how much water you can lose running in hot weather. Last summer, I ran a 20 mile training run. I started early in the morning, so it wasn't as hot as it could have been. As an experiment, I weighed myself before and after the run. I was shocked to discover that in the time I was out running, I lost about eight pounds.

Take a minute and think about that, and not about the fact that losing eight pounds in just a few hours without giving birth is a tiny bit awesome. Eight pounds is about a gallon, so picture the milk jug in your fridge and think about the fact that I sweated out that much water. I know, totally sexy, right? And totally disturbing to lose that much water weight.

In other fun anecdotal news, I was having some problems with cramping in my left calf a few weeks ago. The weird thing is that it wasn't necessarily happening when I was running - it'd cramp up if I was just watching TV or something. I mentioned this to one of my running buddies after a training run. "You could be dehydrated," he said.

Pfft. Yeah, right. No way was my very unique and weird cramping related to something as simple as dehydration. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to drink more water, so I did.

And you know what? It worked. No more cramping. Turns out it was not so unique after all.

Do I have you all sold that dehydration is no joke and that you should not mess with it? Good. The next step, especially when the weather gets hot, is to have a Hydration Strategy. It's going to take more than just a vague plan to drink water, people.

I've started taking my Batman Utility Belt by Fuel Belt with me on long runs. I really like knowing that I can grab a drink whenever I want to. I will probably invest in a couple more bottles so that if I need to, I can swing by home and reload. I also recommend enlisting aid from your loved ones. When I was running 20 milers in the heat last summer, I asked my mom to put out water for me. Not only did she put out gigantic bottles of water in her driveway, but she put ice in it. It was absolutely heavenly. Yay, Mom! And finally, it's smart to drink water throughout the day, so that you're not starting your run in a deficit situation.

Dehydration: It's no joke.

Race Report: Quad Cities Distance Classic

2009-05-14T05:21:00.002-05:00

I walked to the starting line of the Quad Cities Distance Classic ~~half marathon~~ trisko feeling more confident than I perhaps ever have for a race. I felt very prepared for the race. Not just because my training had gone well (though it did), but also because my training had become so important to me. In the months since I started training for this race, my life went through quite a lot of upheaval. I unexpectedly lost my job, went through the always trying period of a job search, and was lucky to find a new job quickly. Then I had to adjust to a new job that was challenging - and required quite a lot of travel. Training for this race was my constant, something that I could control. The fact that I kept training proved to me that the emotional horsepower to meet my goal.

Plus, there were the messages on my wrists. On my right wrist, I wore my Road ID. Inscribed on it is the mantra that I developed at this very race last year, running a ~~half marathon~~ trisko on Mother's Day in the pounding rain, sleet, and winds: ONE TOUGH MOTHER. On my left wrist was a reminder inspired by The Laminator and Frayed Laces: DDYA, which stands for Don't Deny Your Awesomeness. In the days leading up to the race, I would find myself with a stray negative thought, wondering if I could really meet my goal. So, I took a pen and wrote DDYA on my wrist as a reminder to put my thinking right. I rewrote it so many times that now, days after the race, a hint of blue ink still remains on my wrist.

In fact, the only concern I found when I reached the starting line was that, in a long sleeved shirt and tights, I was dressed more warmly than anyone else there. Was I overdressed? Was that a mistake? It was too late to fix it, so I hoped for the best.

My goal for this race was simple: 2:00 or less. My previous PR was 2:05, so it was ambitious, but I was confident I could do it.

And I tried a new strategy for this race, a strategy that I like to call "Running Smart." This offers a sharp contrast from my previous strategies of "Just Start Running And See What Happens" and "Go Out Way Too Fast And Totally Bonk At The End." I set Paula the Garmin to encourage me to run the first nine miles at (or reasonably close to) my required pace of 9:09. Then in the remaining 4.1 miles, I could run faster if I felt good.

So hey, maybe I should stop talking about it and just run the race already, right? Right.

I did my best to relax in the first mile, but I blazed through it way too fast at 8:20. I knew there was a big steep hill at the second mile, so I figured that would slow me down, which it did - 8:57. Still too fast, so I focused on relaxing and running at the right pace. I saw some runners around me who I wanted to be ahead of, but I reminded myself that my goal was not to stay ahead of Orange Shirt Girl, but to finish in two hours. I kept going, hitting the next few miles like this:

Mile 3: 9:02
Mile 4: 8:57
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6: 9:02
Mile 7: 9:06
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:04

So, I managed to ease up a bit and ran some pretty consistent splits. I was happy to have my Batman Utility Belt Fuel Belt with me so that I didn't have to stop or slow down for water stops. I was even happier about the fact that, thanks to my training runs with my running club, I knew several of the volunteers. The Distance Classic is a small race - and run on Mother's Day - so there were not a lot of spectators. Seriously, maybe 12 for the first 12 miles. It was great to be able to see some of my running buddies and have them say things like, "Good job, Betsy. You look really good." Because we'd all talked about the race quite a bit during and after those Sunday morning runs, they knew what I was trying to do, and they could see that I was on my way there. It was a great feeling.

After I passed the 10 mile mark, I called Steve and told him where I was. He said that he and Jack were at the stadium excited to see me finish. I felt great and picked up the pace.

Mile 10: 8:38
Mile 11: 8:37
Mile 12: 8:49

I kept looking at my splits and doing math in my head. I knew I was going to make my goal, and I was absolutely thrilled. I was a bit warm in my long sleeves, but I figured I could deal with it for a few more miles. Things were going great. Then, at around the 12-1/2 mile mark, a little cartoon devil popped onto my shoulder. "Just walk to that next telephone pole," it encouraged. I have no idea where that devil came from, because I was tired, but still strong. I definitely had another half a mile or so to give. So I brushed him off and kept going. I was rewarded by the site of my running buddy John standing at the corner, enthusiastically cheering, "Looking good! You've got this one!"

I ran into the stadium and onto the track. In an attempt to maximize that last 1/4 mile, I ditched my Fuel Belt like ballast and tore into it. Steve and Jack were waiting near the finish line. Steve cheered for me and Jack joined me on the track. With my guys cheering for me, I blazed through mile 13 in 8:35 and the little .1 at 6:59 pace.

The final result?

1:56:51.

Previous PR? Smashed.
Race goal? Obliterated.

There was nothing left to do but celebrate. I got my finisher's medal, ate some bagels, bananas, and cookies, and picked out some red petunias - all finishers can choose some annuals to plant, and I'll be happy to have them be part of my garden. I cheered in some more of my running buddies.

And then, I spent the rest of my day feeling triumphant. I put on my red OxySox and took a nap while snuggling with Jack and watching Star Wars. The boys took me to see Disney Earth and Steve made a great dinner for me and my mom.

I have two more triskos scheduled for the next few weeks. A week from Sunday, I'll run Madison, and then on June 7 I am running 13.1 Chicago. Because I did so well in this race, I feel like the pressure is off a little bit and I can relax a bit. That said, I am thinking about running Madison with the first eight miles at 9:09, giving me another 5.1 to speed up if I want to. We'll see how I feel. But until then, I feel like one tough mother!

Running Moms vs. The World

2009-05-07T06:57:00.002-05:00

Take It and Run Thursday this week is a salute to running moms. I could write hundreds of blog entries about why I think it's important for me to be both a mother and a runner, how running makes me a better mom, what I hope Jack learns from my efforts, and so on. But today, I want to focus on how my fellow Mother Runners and I are taking on the rest of the world.

I absolutely hate it when McDonald's offers two different Happy Meal toys: one for boys and one for girls. I have spent the past four years making it clear that there are no toys that are just for girls or just for boys. If you want to play with a truck, fine. If you want to play with a doll, fine. Just play and have fun. But McDonald's sees things differently, offering My Little Pony for girls and Leggo stuff for boys. I prefer to bypass all of that crap and just ask Jack if he wants the horsey or the Leggos.

But at a recent visit, the McDonald's employee circumvented my efforts, handing Jack and toy and saying, "Here, this is for boys." It was a hand-held electronic sports game. Jack quickly looked at the display and saw that there were sports games and Hello Kitty games and that the sports ones were for boys. "That's cool," Jack said, "Because girls like Hello Kitty, but they don't really like sports."

Oh, hell no.

Jack lives in a home in which Daddy is just as likely to kiss boo boos as Mommy... and in which the most athletic of his parents is, in fact, Mommy. Girls don't like sports? You put Mommy and Daddy in a footrace, and we'll see who likes sports best and who's faster.

I sat Jack down and reminded him that plenty of girls like sports. Like his friends Emma, Kara, Avery, and Elizabeth who play soccer with him. Like the very strong and determined women who we watched run the Olympic marathon on TV. And, of course, like Mommy, who is a dedicated runner. He immediately saw the error of what he had said and thought it was silly that the sports games were given just to boys.

We running moms fight these sexist messages every single time we put on our running shoes. Every drop of sweat proves that women are not just for decoration, that we are athletes just like our male counterparts. My hope is that I am raising a boy who will not immediately dismiss girls when picking a kickball team, and a man who will respect the strength that women possess.

Dose of Cute

2009-05-07T06:28:00.002-05:00

You know what this blog means?

I mean, besides more frequently updated content? And sponsors clamoring to give me cool free stuff to review?

More cuteness. And thus, I bring you an update on Spring at Stately Wasser Manor.

Jack's school put on a circus a few weeks ago, and Jack was an acrobat. Let me tell you, it was worth the price of admission (free) just to hear Jack repeatedly say the word "acrobat" when he was practicing his moves at home. He didn't pronounce it wrong, but let me tell you, there was quite a lot of effort and concentration behind it. Anyway, the circus itself was wall-to-wall adorable, with kids acting like elephants, lions, cowboys, tightrope walkers, strongmen, and of course, acrobats. Jack, in his glittery vest and headband (not to mention handlebar moustache) executed forward rolls, jumped on a trampoline, then stood at the top of a human pyramid of fellow acrobats with a triumphant "Ta da!"

Easter weekend immediately followed. We took Jack to an egg hunt at the zoo, and really, the word "hunt" should not be used to describe these events. The grass in a roped off area is covered in eggs, and the kids go and pick them up. There is no actual hunting involved... though Jack, ever thorough in his quest for candy, looked under every blade of grass to make sure he got them all. He then brought his bounty home to his "candy stash," which is a big plastic container that he puts behind the chair in the living room. Since he somehow manages to defy kid-dom and not eat it by the fistfull, we indulge this. The Saturday before Easter, Jack and I made a bunny cake. I post not one, but two pictures of it because I am really proud of how well it turned out. I am really good at baking and can absolutely bake a cake that tastes good, but it is rare for me to come up with something that also looks good. Easter morning featured an egg hunt in which Jack had to actually hunt for the eggs. I will always remember his first Easter, in which the Easter bunny scattered about ten plastic eggs in Jack's immediate sight on the living room floor. The eggs did not contain candy, as the bunny knew he didn't eat it yet, but instead were filled with binkies. This time around, Jack got a ton of candy, which he used to further stock the Candy Stash. He also posed for this picture and managed to look like right after he got his Easter basket, he changed out of his frog jammies and went to fight in the Civil War. We also introduced Jack to the bounty that is a brunch buffet, and he did an admirable job of putting down scrambled eggs, fruit, raw veggies, ham, and tater tots.

I am now officially a soccer mom, as Jack is participating in the Little Strikers soccer program. He's on the same team as several of his friends, and their team name is the Tigers. ("Just like Roary, Mommy!") Steve is the assistant coach, which is a good thing indeed, as the main coach didn't know anything at all about soccer and forgot to tell the kids things like that the goalie can use her hands. The Tigers had their first game on Tuesday, and it was hilarious to watch. I had to be careful about cheering for Jack, because he had a tendency to stop, turn to me, and give me a thumbs up. He's having a great time playing, especially because it turns out you get ice cream afterwards.

Last but not least in the Cuteness Review, my parents were in town and took the three of us to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner. It was prom night, and Jack was completely mesmerized by the girls, with their brightly colored fancy dresses and elaborate hairdos. Jack went up to three different girls and said, "Um, excuse me? You look really beautiful, just like a princess." The girls completely melted and thought he was the most adorable thing ever. I felt a bit sorry for their dates, who probably failed to say anything half as charming to the girls. And really, it's awfully hard to compete with a line like that and a look like this.

Sock Monkeying

2009-04-28T15:20:00.003-05:00

Peer pressure has been building on me in a big way to try compression socks. For a while there, it seemed like every blogger and her brother was getting a pair of compression socks to test out. (and by the way, I am more than happy to review any products any readers might have laying around. I have tens of readers!) Then, Runners World featured them as well. Across the board, people seemed to love them. Said they were comfortable and really aided in recovery after long runs. Also, they are knee socks, which is what I wear whenever possible during the winter. I had to try some myself.

The only thing holding me back was the $30 price tag. Maybe I'm cheap, you guys, but $30 is a lot to pay for a pair of socks. Other than my shoes, I don't know if I have any running gear that cost $30. Okay, maybe a jacket. But still!

Regardless, the peer pressure kept on pressuring (as is its job), and I finally caved and tried a pair of Recovery Socks.

The socks came lightning fast, and I could hardly wait for a long run to try them out. I ran a tough 12 miler in the pouring rain and was more than happy to put some cozy knee socks on.

Friends, they are indeed tight. You have to really pay attention to what you're doing to get them to fit right on your legs, but once you work that out, they are really comfy. I had experienced some cramping in my calves during the run, and that totally shut down as soon as I put on the socks. Score! I wore them all day (including hidden under a pair of jeans when I took Jack to the art museum). I felt great and had absolutely no soreness after my run.

The only drawback I found was that I really liked them, thus creating the need to buy more ridiculously expensive socks.

This time, I decided to mix it up with Recovery Socks' competitor Oxysox. Oxysox are a couple bucks cheaper, and as an added bonus, come in red. Just like the Recovery Socks, they came in the mail quickly.

I tried out the Oxysox after Sunday's trisko dress rehearsal ("half marathon training run"). I liked them even better than the Recovery Socks. They were easier to get on, slightly more comfortable, and did I mention they were red?

I plan on wearing my Crazy Expensive Socks after all of my long runs moving forward. Maybe even after really challenging speed work. And when I travel for races, I'll wear a pair right after the race, then another pair if I'm driving home the next day. The true test will come in the winter when I try them out under tights during a run for extra warmth.

And now, the peer pressure is on you. Any temptation to try Crazy Expensive Socks? What's your most expensive running gear (other than shoes)?

Dress Rehearsal

2009-04-28T09:10:00.000-05:00

Thanks to my involvement with my local running club, I had a great opportunity on Sunday morning. We ran a 13.1 mile training run for the Quad Cities Distance Classic Trisko (“half marathon”) – and not just any 13.1 miles. We got to run it on the actual race course!

I decided to look at the training run as a dress rehearsal for the main event. Would my plans for fuel, clothing, and so on work on race day? What would the changes to the course be like?

Fuel:
So, the night before the run, I totally forgot that I was doing a trisko the next day and didn’t make much of an effort to carb load. Dinner was cheeseburgers, baked beans, and grilled carrots. And let me tell you, it was delightful. Near as I can tell, my lack of carbs the night before had no ill effect on my running the next day. That is definitely one of the advantages of a trisko over a marathon!
For breakfast, I had a race day favorite meal: toasted English muffin with peanut butter and honey, plus coffee and some water. I meant to eat a banana, but I forgot . No problems there.

I brought two packs of Jelly Belly Sport Beans in cherry – that’s the good kind with caffeine in them. I figured one pack would be enough, but that the second pack would serve as a security blanket or would hook me up in case of emergency. I ate about half of them at 6 miles and the rest at 10. That was good, too.

Clothes:
It’s spring, so you can never be quite sure until the morning of a race what to wear, so I may not be in the same thing for the race as I wore to the dress rehearsal. But if I do end up in my yellow short-sleeved Brooks Podium shirt, grey C9 skirt, C9 socks, One More Mile hat (“Running is my happy hour”) and my Asics 2140’s, I’ll be very comfortable.

Gear:
My faithful running companion Paula Garmin was on my left wrist, over a simple wristband for padding. On my other wrist, I wore my Road ID that bears my mantra ONE TOUGH MOTHER.

Tragically, my iPod is all screwed up. It is stuck in the locked position and I can’t get it un-stuck. I am going to mess with it more this week in hopes of fixing it, the alternative being to buy a new one, which I’d rather not do. In desperation, I borrowed Steve’s. I say desperation because Steve is notorious at Stately Wasser Manor for making the world’s worst running playlists. The songs are all good, but way too mellow. You can’t work up a sweat to any of them. I ended up not using it at all, which I’ll get into later.

My biggest experiment was wearing my Fuel Belt. I really like it, but would it be annoying or uncomfortable for the duration of a trisko? I loaded it up with Gatorade (yellow, adorably matching my shirt). I put the iPod in the pocket, along with just the key to my car, leaving the rest behind to not have any jingling or extra weight. Then I attached my Amphipod, filled with Sport Beans, to the side of it. My friend Cindy compared my Fuel Belt to Batman’s utility belt, which is so awesome that I will call it my Utility Belt from now on. The Utility Belt was completely comfortable, so I’ll be happy to wear it on race day.

Course:
The course has been changed since last year. There’s still a massive uphill right after the first mile and a big downhill at around 4. There’s a short, steep hill somewhere around 9 to get onto a bike path by the river that I’m not too worried about. The great news is, the nasty hill at mile 12 that gave me such grief last year is gone, baby gone. My strategy is to run the first half on pace to finish in 2 hours, giving myself the option to speed up in the second half if I feel like it.

Cool:
There was a huge turnout for dress rehearsal – at least twice as many as the previously best attended training run. Among the people there was Kelly, a fellow runner who works with Steve. Her goal finish is about the same as mine, so we decided to run together. And it was delightful! I had such a good time talking to Kelly that I never used Steve’s questionable iPod – and the miles flew by.
So, all in all, Dress Rehearsal was a success. I feel totally prepared to run this race and to run it well. With any luck, last year’s 2:05 finish will be erased for a new trisko PR!

Race Report: Steve’s Old Time Tap Spring Chaser

2009-04-27T17:45:00.001-05:00

“Would you like a wristband for free beer after the race?”

Those words, spoken by a volunteer when I picked up my race packet, led me to believe that Steve’s Old Time Tap Spring Chaser 5K was likely to be a good time. A further perusal of my goody pack revealed a random assortment of stuff: a decent looking short-sleeved cotton t-shirt (technical shirts are a rarity for local races where I live, so I have lots of good sleeping shirts), flyers for other races (two of which I’ve already signed up for), my bib and safety pins, a pen, a coupon for a free box of frozen waffles, a coozie for Michelob Ultra (on a continued quest to become The Official Beer of Running), and, hilariously, a bar of Dial soap.

My goal for the race was simple: to NOT set a PR.

My reasoning was simple: the race was on Saturday, and on Sunday, I had a training run for my upcoming trisko (“half marathon”) that was on the actual race course. A dress rehearsal, if you will. And having that dress rehearsal go well was far more important to me than killing myself for a random 5K that I signed up for a week prior.

Saturday morning rolled around. I parked my car by a strip club (seriously), and headed to the starting line. There, I met up with a bunch of other members of my running club. You guys have no idea how happy that made me. One of my main 2009 goals was to become more active in my local running community, and the image of success I had in my mind was hanging out before or after a race, chatting with other runners. It felt great to do just that. Even better, one of my fellow club members came up and told me that she was goggling running blogs (as we have all done), and happened to come across mine. How cool is that? (And hi, Kelly, if you’re reading this!)

The course went through Rock Island, up a nasty hill at the 1-1/2 mile mark, and finished in front of the sponsor bar (convenient). I made an effort to keep my pace relaxed – challenging, but not too challenging. I couldn’t resist the urge to pass some people on the hill, but I made up for it by stopping to drink a little water, something I really don’t bother with on a distance less than 10K.

As I neared the finish line, I passed another woman… only to have her pass me and slip past me into the chute. I congratulated her on a strong finish. Then, I found out later that she was in my age group and kept me from coming in third. And the award was a pint glass with the race logo, which would have been really freaking cool.

It’s true that I wasn’t running my best (my finish time of 25:38 was well off of my PR of 23:44 and I had a lot left), but that other woman ran a better race than I did that day. It was a little lesson to me about what can happen if you give anything away in a race! Next time I pass someone at the finish, it will be decisive – they will stay passed.

Running Philosophy

2009-04-27T06:46:00.002-05:00

Being a distance runner doesn't just change your body. It also changes your outlook.

Jack and I were playing outside a few days ago. He rode his trike about three houses away from ours and declared that he was exhausted and could not possibly ride alllll the way back to Stately Wasser Manor.

He chose the wrong person to try to sell that one to.

Instead of getting a piggyback ride back to the house, he got a lecture about how sometimes you get tired, but you still need to dig deep, find strength, and keep going. And how if you ever want to win at anything, you need to keep trying, not give up, and never quit - or you will never have a chance.

Wouldn't you know it, he managed to find the power to move that 100 feet back home, probably just so I'd shut up about it.

Then, last night, I was watching The Amazing Race. The teams were in China and had to endure a foot massage, which was apparently quite painful. There was much yelling and gnashing of teeth, but all I could think was that, sure, it probably hurt a lot. I believed that. But the massage was only 10 minutes. It couldn't be so difficult to endure something for just 10 minutes.

Then, the racers went to the pool where Michael Phelps won his pile of gold medals. They needed to run a 400 meter relay, and my goodness, there was quite a lot of complaining about how hard it was, how exhausted they were, and so on. Then, they showed the finishing times. The slowest team finished in 18 minutes - that means they each swam for 9 minutes total, with breaks while the other team member swam. Swimming is hard, no doubt, but again, it just isn't that much total effort to do what needs to be done.

Running has taught me the importance of tenacity. Even if something seems difficult, chances are, it's not something that needs to be endured for that long. I can suck it up, and I can do it.

Here's a Quarter

2009-04-15T07:34:00.005-05:00

Last week's
Take it and Run Thursday (for which I am fashionably late to the party) asks a simple question - how does blogging influence your running? On the surface, it might not sound like going outside, running hard, and sweating your butt off doesn't seem like an activity that would mesh well with sitting at your computer and banging out your thoughts. But in actuality, these two things mesh together really well.

When you become passionate about running, it consumes you. Every step you take, every bite you eat, every change in the weather gives you something running-related to think about. And you want to talk (read: obsess) about it as much as you possibly can.

The trouble is, we are surrounded by non-runners. If you're lucky, one of them will listen to you politely while their brain switches into screen-saver mode, waiting for you to stop boring them. But more likely, you'll be met with one of the classic non-runner responses of:

I don't know how you do it.

How long is your marathon?

Must be nice if you have the time.

Running? I only run if I'm being chased.

The non-runners think that last one is especially hilarious. Too bad we've all heard it a million times.

But start a blog, and all of a sudden, you will have friends who are every bit as excited about running as you are. Not only would they love to hear about the awesome tempo run you just had, they actually know what a tempo run is. They are more than willing to indulge your going back and forth about which marathon to run in the fall, your concern about the updates Asics is making to your shoes, and fully understand why you paid that much money for socks.

In essence, by starting a blog, you have unlimited quarters to call somebody who cares.

Coach, I'm In

2009-04-09T06:49:00.003-05:00

I got an email yesterday from Steve with two important pieces of news.

1. Registration for the Bix 7 is now open.
2. Steve refuses to "almost die" at the race this year.

Take a look at this picture, taken before last year's race by the lovely Amy from Runners' Lounge:

Steve looks cute, happy, and ready to tackle one of his favorite races. Steve likes to run, though isn't as obsessed with it as I am (he has obsessive hobbies of his own). But the Bix is special, a fun event that most of the Quad Cities participates in, and he doesn't ever want to miss it.

The trouble is, it's a really tough course. Seven miles is a lot, especially if you're used to running about three. Add to that a ridiculous number of hills and typically hot weather.

The result was that after the race last year, while I happily chatted with fellow Loungers, Steve was red faced, knocking back drinks, trying to get some food into his system, and generally feeling like hell.

Not this year, he vowed.

As you can imagine, that made my little ears prick right up. I asked if I could coach him, and he agreed.

Steve's goal is simple: run the race with no walk breaks and without feeling like he's going to die afterwards.

I'm going to keep the workouts equally simple. We'll gradually increase the miles of his long run so that seven doesn't feel so daunting. Many of his running routes will incorporate hills - in the beginning, the middle, and the end, so that he'll be prepared for that aspect of the race. Because Steve isn't concerned with his time, I see no need for intervals or tempo runs, so we'll skip that, instead adding elements to keep it fun - the occasional weekend 5K and Bix at Six training runs.

This time around, when I meet Steve at the hill with the flag on it after the race, both of us will be smiling just like in Amy's Before picture.

Side note: Thanks to everybody for your support of my plan to replace marathons with triskos ("half marathons") this year. Because I am a marathoner, I have to admit that part of me feels like I am not going for the full glory by focusing on a shorter distance. I know it's unreasonable, and in fact if someone else said that, I'd tell them that running half marathons is nothing to sneeze at, especially since I am planning on not just running them, but racing them. Still, it feels good to have my decisions validated by runners who I respect. Thanks, guys.

The Trisko Kid

2009-04-07T20:04:00.003-05:00

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my running goals and how to best fit them in with the rest of my life. My new job, while awesome in many ways, poses some challenges. The frequent travel (so far we’re at four trips in six weeks) is the biggest one. In one way, I’m working that out. I have resolved to still go running when I’m travelling, even though it means having to wake up extra early. It’s worth it to me, because starting a hectic day with a run is a great way for me to feel centered, and to really feel like me, even in a strange environment.

The trouble comes when I get home. Steve and Jack have been incredibly supportive of me in just about every possible way. That includes both work and running. And because the boys are so great, when I am home, I want to spend time with them.
Right now, I can, as the great Tim Gunn would say, make it work. I’m using the FIRST plan to train for a trisko (“half marathon”) on May 10, then another on May 24. Tuesday nights I do a track workout, then Thursdays I do a tempo run – unless I am travelling, in which case I do those workouts whenever I am on the road. On Sundays, I start my long run at 7:30 in the morning, and with the longest pre-race run planned at 13.1 miles, it doesn’t eat up my entire day – both with the time to run and the time to recover.

But when my thoughts turn to marathon training in the fall, I get a little worried. My mid-week workouts will be about the same, but those long runs on weekends are a lot tougher. If I go out and run a 20 miler, between running, an ice bath, eating a giant pile of food, and recovery time, half my day is shot. I love the time I spend running, but if I’ve already been away from home for a couple of days in the week, it’s a lot of time spent away from Steve and Jack.

That’s why I’m thinking that 2009 may be the Year of the Trisko (which, again, sounds much cooler than the Year of the Half Marathon).

A trisko is, of course, a respectable and challenging distance. But my long runs won’t take so long. I’ll feel ready to hang out with my guys after a sandwich and a shower, rather than an ice bath and a nap. And because it’s easier to recover from the race itself, I could do more of them. I can also set more aggressive goals, knowing that it’s easier to sustain 13.1 miles than 26.2.

My calendar is already starting to fill up. There’s the Quad Cities Distance Classic on May 10, followed by the Madison Half Marathon on May 24. And I just convinced Steve that it would be really fun for the three of us to go to Chicago on the weekend of June 7 so that I can run 13.1 Chicago. I could run the Quad Cities Half Marathon in September, but then follow that up with the half marathons in Des Moines or Kansas City.

The marathon will always have a special place in my heart, and I know I’ll go back to it someday. But for now, triskos may be the way to go. Just call me The Trisko Kid.

Beer, Brats, and Running

2009-04-06T19:35:00.001-05:00

I got an email from my brother on Friday announcing that he is running the Madison Marathon on May 24 and that I should do it, too.

My immediate response was that no way could I be ready for 26.2 miles in that short an amount of time (despite Andy’s arguments that Steve Runner is training for Boston in just five weeks). But then I realized that although I couldn’t do the full marathon, I could run the half.

The more I thought about it, the cooler the idea was. I am running a trisko (“half marathon”) two weeks before at the Quad Cities Distance Classic, but that seems like plenty of time to recover from 13.1 miles. My favorite aunt and uncle live in Madison, so we’d get to stay with them. I'll get to hang out with my brother. The race is at the same time as the bratwurst festival in Madison, so a post-race beer and brat is a done deal. And the race is Memorial Day weekend. Steve will be working that weekend, so Jack and I could take a road trip and have a Mommy-Son adventure.

Next thing you know, I’m signing on the dotted line and registering for the race.
There has also been an interesting side effect to all of this.

I went for my long run yesterday. Since my mojo’s been missing for a couple of weeks now, I decided to just run 10 (rather than the 11-12 I had planned) and to run it at a very relaxed pace. Paula-Garmin went in my pocket so I wouldn’t be distracted by her. The fact that it was cold and windy out reinforced that decision.
So, I did it. I ran 10 miles. And guess what you guys? It felt good! It was not a miserable suck-fest slog. I felt happy and strong and awesome. My 9:30 pace (Paula-Garmin may have been in my pocket, but she was still on) was not as fast as my previous sub-9:00 10-miler, but it was still totally respectable for me.

The mojo was back, and all I needed was a little extra something to be excited about.

It's Gotta Be The Shoes

2009-04-02T21:19:00.003-05:00

Buying running shoes fills me with anticipation. They are not just Asics 2140’s in a size 8-1/2 with blue trim. These are the shoes that will support me for hundreds of miles, whose brilliant white color will be grayed with puddles, splattered with mud, and caked with dirt. These shoes may be the ones that I wear when I run an amazing, inspiring workout on the track, that will suffer with me on a wrenching tempo run, and that will triumph when I PR at a race. $100 is a small price to pay, 100 words too small a tribute.

Chasing Mojo

2009-04-01T07:11:00.002-05:00

Good morning, interwebs. I am still in Minneapolis for work and still, as faithful sexy readers know, trying to regain my Running Mojo after some disappointing sessions.

I went to bed last night planning on getting up at 5:30 and running again. At 5:30? I reset the alarm for 6:00. But then at 6:00, I decided to lace up the shoes and give it a go on one condition: no treadmill.

My strategy for regaining that elusive Running Mojo is to make running fun, and let's face it: that is not going to happen on a treadmill in a hotel gym where I have nothing to look at but a tiny screen playing Saved by the Bell and a wall of mirrors.

I layered up and headed outside, where it was in the 30's (yes, in April) and snowing lightly (again, Minnesota). I brought Paula Garmin with me, but kept her in my pocket, reminding myself that the point wasn't speed or distance, but the joy of running. This being Minnesota, I quickly found a beautiful lake, surrounded by snow-covered trees, and ran around it.

The setting was beautiful. I have heard many people muse that they can't imagine living in the Midwest, especially not the upper Midwest like Minnesota, but I can definitely see its charms. I saw bunnies running across the path, and for much of the way, the only footprints on the snow were mine.

As for the run? It was not one of those runs where, at the end, you feel amazing and want to spend the entire day telling everyone about how great it was. But it was pretty good. A solid, average effort.

Next up is Sunday's group run. I'm going to run 10 miles, which should be plenty far in advance of my trisko ("half marathon") on May 10, and I will run it at whatever the hell pace I feel like.

I'm coming after you, Running Mojo. Prepare to be chicked.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

2009-03-31T13:42:00.002-05:00

Not so long ago, I was at the top of my game. I was blazing out tempo runs and track workouts, then turning around and rocking out 10 miles at sub-9:00 pace. I was amazing, Kenyan-fast, invincible!

Then, it turned out that I was very much... vincible.

My fall from grace started with a 4 mile tempo run. To put it succinctly, I sucked. I felt slow, heavy, and leaden. I couldn't step things up to save my life. What should have been a relatively easy run turned into a slog.

I tried to shake it off. We are all allowed one bad run, right? I resolved to make my next run as fun as possible. I was scheduled to do a 5 x 1K track workout, so to mix things up, I ran on the path by the river, rather than on the track. That way I'd have beautiful scenery to admire, geese to dodge... all that good stuff.

It turned out that run sucked, too.

It was ridiculously cold out, and within minutes, my frozen paws were shoved into my gloves and my butt felt numb. The wind was so strong that I had to bend my head forward to drive into it. 5 x 1K turned into 5 x "Okay, I can run to that tree up there and then stop."

I have said a million times that everyone can have a bad run every now and again, and I mean it. But two in a row really felt lousy. I was in a bad mood all day, and on Sunday, I decided to skip my long run. It was still cold and windy out, and I wanted no part of yet another discouraging workout.

I really need to get my running mojo back. Complicating matters is the fact that I am in Minnesota for three days this week, so my normal routine is thrown off. My plan is to get in two runs while I'm here and to just make them fun. To hell with distance, pace, all of that. I need to get out there and feel good about it, period.

Today was the first attempt, and I can only give it a C-. Cold weather and wind are still plotting against me, and rather than face my kryptonite, I headed for the treadmill in the hotel gym. Running on the treadmill is un-fun by definition, but I really needed to get my legs moving. I mixed it up a bit by throwing in some fact quarter miles.

It felt okay. Not great, not strong, not invicible, but okay. Which is at least better than lousy.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

What about you? How do you regain your running mojo?

Your Mother

2009-03-31T13:38:00.000-05:00

So, a couple of weeks ago, I participated in a Runner’s Lounge podcast all about Running Moms, which you can check out right catlicking here.

It could be argued that I am a giant slacker for not getting around to promoting this on my blog until now, but I prefer to think that I am working to sustain the fabulous buzz already surrounding this endeavor. Did that sound convincing?

Anyway, it was supercool to talk to a bunch of my fellow running moms about the perils of Mommy Guilt, why there is apparently no such thing as Daddy Guilt, how to bribe our children into letting us go running, and our dream jogging stroller, which would include a built-in DVD player to quiet down the kiddies so we could keep on going.

In related news, during Jack’s and my weekly trip to the library, we found a book called My Mom is a Runner by Mary Gallagher Reimold. I found this synopsis of the book on Amazon:

The rigorous training involved in long distance running is depicted in sharp, well-reproduced color photographs of the lifestyle of a family of four. Although the mother is dedicated to the sport and works at it daily, she does not isolate herself from her husband and young sons. She is shown caring for the boys, running with them on a track, sharing her tee shirts and other prizes, and celebrating the end of a race with a visit to the ice cream parlor. In turn, her husband and sons are her enthusiastic and supportive fans.

As I read the book to Jack, I found myself doing some selective editing. I chose not to point out to him that the cotton t-shirt that the mom was wearing out on her long run would cause chafing, since that would require more explanation than I was willing to provide. But the part about how sometimes the mom lets her kids wear her race t-shirts to school the next day? Or how the mom actually gives her finishers’ medals to them?

Hell no!

If Jack wants a race t-shirt or a finishers’ medal, then he needs to hit the pavement and earn it his own damned self.

The Power of the Group Run

2009-03-23T07:12:00.002-05:00

For the most part, I love the solitary aspects of distance running. It's my favorite time to de-stress, work out problems, or even just hang out and listen to music and podcasts.

But at the same time, it's good to have friends. I adore each and every one of my BRF's (seriously), but I recognize the benefit of having some running friends who I can go out with not just in spirit, but in reality. That's why one of my 2009 running goals was to get to know some local runners. And guys, it's working.

I joined my local running club and started going to events. That was a good start, but even better was joining in the training runs that the club is having for the upcoming Quad Cities Distance Classic trisko ("half marathon").

Bright and surly every Sunday morning, a large group of runners descends upon McDonald's, standing out in the crowd with our brightly colored jackets, tights, and low percentage of body fat.

This week, I ran at my own pace and found myself smack dab in the middle of two packs - one running a bit faster than I was, the other a bit slower. But at the turnaround, I ended up running with John, a guy I met at a previous training run. Since John and I are both, you know, runners, it wasn't exactly hard to find things to talk about.

The miles flew by, and our conversation turned to our goal times for the upcoming race. I said that I wanted to run it in two hours or less. John said that, with the pace we were running, I'd surely be able to do it.

I laughed and said, "You are really making me work right now." Then, he admitted that he kept expecting me to drop him and take off.

Neither of us slowed our pace. Instead, we pushed a little faster up the final hill to the parking lot, where a jug of water and our fellow runners waited. I was rewarded for my efforts with a chance to hang out and talk about running - just what I wanted.

My average pace for that ten mile run? 8:47. That may be a walk in the park for some of you Speedy McSpeedersons, but for me, it is Kenyan fast. I feel amazing... and I can't wait for the next group run so I can do it again.

Runners Report

2009-03-19T06:36:00.003-05:00

Seeing as how it's been a shameful number of weeks since I have contributed to Take It and Run Thursday, I'm going to dive right in:

Spring is one of the four most glorious seasons of the year for running. After months of layering up, trying to avoid icy patches, or worse, running indoors, it is wonderful to be out among the singing birds and new flowers.

It is so wonderful that all of a sudden, everybody's a runner. I've heard gym devotees complain about the influx of new people joining up, using the equipment and taking all the good lockers right after making New Year's resolutions in January. The same is true for runners in the spring.

The new runners are, of course, welcome to join us out on the road, and I hope they stick around (unless they are women in my age group who are faster than I am). I want to make a good first impression.

This brings me to my most valuable spring training tip:

Start taking allergy pills before you think you'll need them.

If I hit the Claritin a week before it gets good and gorgeous outside, then I will avoid the portion of my run where I am sneezing with such intensity that it knocks down those new runners, trying to see through my watery eyes how to get home so I can get a shower and some kleenex as fast as possible.

With a little prevention, I can just skip that.

What about you? How do you train in the spring?

On the Road Again

2009-03-17T23:29:00.004-05:00

Devoted (and therefore sexy) CoffeeBetsy readers will recall that New Job is causing me to spend quite a bit of time traveling. Two weeks ago found me in exotic Chanhassen, Minnesota, where I got up in the wee hours of the morning and ran on a trail around a frozen lake. It was astonishly beautiful.

Right now, I am traveling again, this time in Seattle (which thus increased the population of runners named Betsy in the city to two). I spent a pivotal summer here living with Steve, and this is the first time I've been back. I knew that, thanks to work, there'd be little time for sightseeing, but there was one easy solution to that.

I got up early, laced up my shoes, and hit the road.

I started off at my hotel, which by sheer coincidence is connected to the mall where I worked that summer. Then, I headed to the Space Needle. The Space Needle is surrounded by museums that we could not afford to go to because we were incredibly poor, so I paid tribute to that by not going in any of them (that and it was 6:00 in the morning). I also visited the carnival area where Steve and I used to walk and eat cotton candy. There is a wee little roller coaster there that we dubbed The Pissy Mouse, because that was about how threatening it was.

From there, I headed back towards the hotel, running past Pike Place Market. Most of the booths weren't set up yet, but the smells of freshly baked bread and hot coffee filled the air. In fact, I regret that I didn't keep an ongoing tally of espresso places that I passed along the way. It verged on parody.

Next, I ran to Pioneer Square, more great coffee places and bookstores, and a bunch of bars that are probably now teeming with people drinking green beer.

Back to the hotel with a few added twists and turns, I was filled with memories. I felt completely connected to the city again - and to Steve, far away though he may have been.

Race Report: St. Patrick's Day 5K

2009-03-17T23:12:00.003-05:00

Dawg, I don't know. You went up there, you did your thing, but it was just all right for me. It was kinda weird, dawg; I don't know. I'm not mad atcha, but I'm not jumping out of my chair, either. You know?

--Randy Jackson

Okay, Randy Jackson might not have said those exact words, at least not in that order (and has anyone else noticed that if Randy is forced to give an opinion first and can't just agree with one of the other judges that he's reduced to a lot of stammering, "dawg," and "How do you think you did"?), but the point is that he could have. And I could have said that about my experience at the St. Patrick's Day 5K.

The St. Patrick's Day 5K is not a race I've run before, but I figured, what the heck. For one thing, as I've discussed before, it's only 5 kilometers long. And in perhaps the most kick-ass job benefit of all time, New Workplace has a program in which they sponsor 50% of all of my race fees. Yes, seriously: I run a race, they pay for half of it. Yes, it is awesome. I know. Yeah, I know: awesome.

Anyway, I arrived in plenty of time for the 9:00 AM start... only to find out that the giant 9:00 AM on the entry fee and on the website referred to the children's races, and that my race did not start until 10:00. That kind of sucked, because I could have either slept for another hour or done some work around the house. But whatever; I hung out with my running buddies and watched the kids run.

When it was time to line up at the start, I discovered some weirdness about the course. It was an out-and-back... kind of. We had to walk about 200 meters away from the finish line to start the race. We then ran to a turn-around, and about 100 meters away from that turn-around was the actual half-way point of the race. It wasn't a huge deal, but it was a tad disconcerting. The course had some rolling hills, which made it more challenging. I followed my usual technique of running up the hills saying to myself, "I am really strong on hills, and I tend to catch up with a lot of people on them," which I swear to Yoda makes it true.

Also annoying was the fact that after the finish line, you had to walk about a quarter of a mile (up a really steep hill, by the way) before you could get to the water and post-race food. True, I hadn't exhausted myself to the point where I couldn't go that far, but it seems not only inconvenient but potentially hazardous for a beginner who might really need a water and a banana quickly after the race.

And you guys, the t-shirt was LAME. It's a long-sleeved white cotton tee with a little shamrock on the front where a pocket would be. On the back is nothing but sponsor logos in black. Bo-ring.

The positive? I freaking rocked this one out, you guys. I finished in 23:44. At first I thought that was exactly my previous PR, down to the second... but then I looked more closely and saw that I shaved a full minute off of that time. It was good enough for third place in my age group. I need to investigate how I can pick up my trophy, because I believe that it is actually a beer mug. Kind of makes up for the lameness of the t-shirt.