Friday, May 30, 2008

Declaration of Independence

A few mornings ago, I woke up to the sound of the water running in the bathroom. Odd, I thought, and as I turned it off, I noticed that Jack's stool was in front of the sink and that the cups were much closer to the edge than usual. My detective skills are second only to Batman's, so I had an idea of what was going on.

When Jack woke up, I said,"Hey, I want to ask you something, buddy."

Jack then grinned ear to ear, and excitedly began this monologue:

Guess what, Mommy? Last night, I was thirsty, so I got out of my bed all by myself and went into the bathroom. Then, I moved the stool over to the sink and turned on the sink. All by myself, Mommy! I got the cups and filled a cup with water, and I did not spill it, Mommy! Then, I squashed the cup and threw it in the trash and went back to my bed. I didn't turn off the water, though.

Then, he literally clapped his hands with joy at this miraculous accomplishment. Steve, who was listening too, said, "That's great, buddy! And next time, if you need help turning off the sink, come wake up Daddy and I will help you."

I agreed, emphasizing, "Go ahead and wake up Daddy. Daddy will turn off the water for you. Daddy."

Thursday, May 29, 2008

That's Hot

I live in the midwest and am training for a September marathon. That means there's no getting around it: I need to run in the hot, humid, sticky, nasty dog days of summer.

As Nicole Richie (who I just know would be my BFF if we ever hung out, because girlfriend is hilarous and I would take her out for margaritas and nachos because she should not get so thin ever again) would say, "That's hot."

Thus, the theme for this week's
Take it and Run Thursday: running in the heat.

Amy had a great post earlier this week with some excellent practical advice for running in the heat. I can't even imagine improving upon it, so I won't try. Instead, I will offer Betsy's Salute to Hot Weather Post-Run Food. There are some foods that could not be more delicious than after a hot weather run.

1. Popsicles. I love popsicles under any circumstances, but after a long run in the heat, they are heavenly. There are popsicles in my freezer at all times, usually two boxes. That is because Jack prefers Spider-Man popsicles

and I cannot imagine anything more vile than a black popsicle. I tend to buy the 100% Fruit Juice kind, but either way, they are so fabulously cold after a hot run.

2. Watermelon. Ice cold out of the fridge, and with plenty of liquid in it to replenish lost fluids. Mmm.

3. Gatorade. Like Amy said, Gatorade never tastes better than after a long run.

4. Ice cream. Enough said.

5. Apple slices. Magically take care of weird gumminess in your mouth and taste amazing as well.

What about you catlickers? What's your favorite post hot run treat?

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Race Report: Wild 5 5K

Although Yoda knows i've done a lot of running in the past year or so, I haven't run a 5K since last June. And to be honest, those 5Ks that I ran last year aren't efforts that I am especially proud of. It has really just been this year that I've made the decision to take my running to the next level. To not just go out there and run, but to focus my training, pay attention to my times, or really have any thought in my head but to run. So, in a way, this was the first 5K that counted.

The Lead Up:
Unfortunately, the lead up to it wasn't the greatest. I took a (well deserved) week off after my trisko, but last week, I haven't been able to run much at all. It's an insanely busy time for my husband at work, so I had pretty much full-time Cub Duty. However, I ran 3 miles on Wednesday night with a time of 26:something, so I set a race goal of 26:00. That's a great improvement on my previous PR of 27:46.

The Night Before:
McDonald's Quarter Pounder, fries, and an ice cream sundae. And then a lousy night of sleep. Lovely.

Race Morning:
I woke up focused... but not really on running. I was focused on getting a cup of coffee, having a quick breakfast, getting dressed, waking Jack up, getting him dressed and with a glass of milk, then going to pick up Katie, his "boysitter" (because as Jack will remind you, he is not a baby), getting the two of them settled, and myself to the race - all in an hour and a half.

The Race:
There's only so much you can say about a race that's only 3.1 miles long. My strategy was to just put in a really strong effort and see where I went from there. The weather was pretty well perfect, probably in the 60s or something like that. The course had a few gentle hills, and was an out and back. The first mile felt awesome, as did the second. During the third mile, I started to feel pain in my side, so I dropped my shoulders and focused on my breathing. I gutted through it, kicked it to the end, and was thrilled at the final results:

25:13, a new PR! For those into stats, that's 9th for my age group, 260something overall.

Friday, May 23, 2008

Say My Name

In the book Me Talk Pretty One Day, David Sedaris was disappointed to learn that his IQ was too low to qualify for Mensa.

Hugh consoled me by saying, "Don't let it get to you. There are plenty of things you're good at."

When asked for some examples, he listed vacuuming and naming stuffed animals. He says he can probably come up with a few more, but he'll need some time to think.

This passage has always amused me, because I do believe that one of my great talents has always been naming stuffed animals. Never have I had a teddy bear named Teddy or some such foolishness. Under my watch, stuffed animals get names that truly suit them, Roary being a prime example.

Clearly, some of my BRF's, with sadly unnamed Garmins, need my help.

Nancy, your Garmin is now named Ayla, after Daryl Hannah's cavegirl character in Clan of the Cave Bear. Club in hand, Ayla will spur you on throughout your workouts.

Kent, I have decided to name your Garmin Bob, after Dr. Robert Atkins, the man who helped transform you into the man you are today.

Nitmos? Bad news, buddy: your Garmin is now named Vanilla, after your nemesis. Think of it this way: when it beeps at you, you can say, "Shut up, Vanilla. I know what I'm doing."

Jen calls herself The 311 Boys' Mom because her two sons were both born on March 11 - more than a decade apart. Jen's Garmin will be known as June, since I have a feeling June is a lucky month for her.

(List to be updated as more BRF's are in need of my skills. Other skills, by the way, include drawing Star Wars characters in a manner realistic enough to suit a three-year-old and finding my way in malls.)

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Name It

Okay, fellow runner nerds, I've got to know:

What did you name your Garmin and why?

When I got my Forerunner 205, it was pretty much love at first step. All of a sudden, I had no idea how I could live without the ability to know my exact pace, time, and mileage with impressive accuracy at every given second. I couldn't possibly think of this new coach as just "the Garmin."

Clearly, it needed a name. Especially if it was going to keep beeping at me every mile or so. And I wanted it to be a woman's name... and what better choice than to name her after kick-ass awesome marathon mama Paula Radcliffe?

So, I've got Paula. Topher runs with Duncan. What did you name your Garmin?

Feeling Cross

Often, the brilliant minds over at Runners' Lounge seem to be able to see exactly what's on my mind. Almost as if there were some thing on the internet where they could read my thoughts; I don't know how they do it.

Anyway, this week for Take It and Run Thursday, the theme is Cross Training. To be honest, I'm really not into it. Like Tom said a few days ago, "I'd rather be running." But now that I'm about to start using FIRST for this fall's marathon, cross training is going to be an essential part of my preparation.

I know what I need to do: bike, swim, or maybe walk. And I get why - it'll help strengthen my body and allow me to have "active rest." I'm just not enthusiastic about it. If only my regular life could be considered cross training. Thus, I propose Betsy's Real Life Cross Training Program:

  • Carrying all of the groceries into the house in one trip.

  • Having endless "battle fights" with Jack and his ever-growing collection of toy swords. Bonus effort points for not losing my mind in boredom.

  • Shoveling snow. Sure, it's May, but I'm not convinced it won't snow again, like, tomorrow, given the winter we had.

  • Cooking dinner with one 30+ pound boy hanging on my leg.

  • Not making sarcastic comments when it would be inappropriate to do so, tempting though it might be, particularly at work.

  • Folding and putting away laundry.

  • Suffering through "Your call is very important to us" on-hold purgatory.

  • Updating my blog entries (though considering this is my first post since Friday, I might have to focus on other things).

  • Lugging Jack to my mom's house on days in which he insists that I carry his gigantic bag of toys, Roary and three other stuffed animals who are now Roary's good friends and Roary cannot stand to be parted from them, a huge toy pirate ship, two costumes, a snack, and Jack himself, whose desire to be carried is not so strong that he stops squirming.

Does any of that count?

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Next Step

After finishing last week's trisko, I made a move that is very unlike me:

I took the entire week off from running.

My running is an important part of my routine. It centers me. More importantly, it gives me something to think about and focus on besides the daily grind of working, keeping the house marginally clean, TV, and watching the earth's plates shift in the painfully long amount of time that it takes Jack to get in and out of his car seat. I look forward to it every day, and in this past week, I have really missed those quiet hours pounding the pavement.

In the meantime, I've been plotting what's next for me. Now that the weather is nice, it is without a doubt Running Season, the most glorious time of year for us runners.

I am lucky to live in an area in which running is extremely popular. If I wanted to, I could probably find a race to run within a half hour drive every single weekend. Considering that would leave me pretty well broke, I've decided instead to run one race a month. Here's what's on the agenda:

  • May 24: Wild 5 5K. I am so hardcore on this one that I have actually hired a babysitter to hang out with Jack while I run this race. I've never done this one before, but I'm eager to get a recent 5K time for training purposes, plus the t-shirt is technical fabric, so score!

  • June 14: Race for the Cure 5K. Race for the Cure is always a big party, and is of course for a great cause. Better still, this race falls on Steve's and my 11th anniversary, and we're looking forward to running it together. For extra fun, Steve's workplace fields a team for this event, which we've joined.

  • July 4: Firecracker 5K or 10K. It's the 4th of July, so I'll have the day off work, and what better to do than get in a race? I ran the 10K last year, and it was, as the brochure promised, "hilly and challenging." I'll probably do the 10K again this year.

  • July 26: Bix 7. If you live in the Quad Cities like I do, you cannot consider yourself a runner and not run the Bix. I am working on recruiting BRFs to come to Davenport for this fun event.

  • August: TBD. I don't know yet what I'll do in August. We'll see what strikes my fancy.

  • September 28: Quad Cities Marathon. This will be my second marathon, and I'm going to tell you right now, Internet: I am getting a PR.

Marathon training officially starts on June 9. I'd really like to use a program that involves running more days than not, but I also know that there are three members of my family, not just one. So, I'm going to try out the FIRST to the Finish Line program. I will do intense runs on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, with cross training on Mondays, Fridays, and possibly Sundays.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Ooh, pretty

Internet! Lookit what I've got!

It's a new necklace from Tarma Designs and I *pink puffy heart* it.

They have a bunch of other running-inspired jewelry, so more shopping might have to be done. Some of you might argue that I don't need to buy 47 different running necklaces. To that, I say that this necklace is made from recycled materials, so why do you have to hate the earth so much?


The theme for this week's Take It and Run Thursday is "It was so obvious!"

Well here's one:

If you set goals for yourself, you will be a better runner.

That's right, Internet. I recently discovered that if you try to run faster/longer/stronger, you have a considerably better chance of, in fact, becoming faster/longer/stronger.


I have been a runner since I was about 10 years old. I ran my first 5K way back in 1985, and I am still very proud of the varsity letters I got in cross country and track in high school (because I worked my butt off to earn them). But honestly, when I'd go out and run your usual Saturday 5K race, my only thoughts would be "This is fun," "Cool t-shirt," and "I wonder what the after-party will be like."

I didn't train for anything specific, and I didn't pay much attention to my times.

But this year, I resolved to take my running to the next level. And a big part of that was setting goals for myself. Because I had goals in mind, my training was more focused. I tried harder, and paid more attention to how I was doing.

I went into my trisko training with a goal of 2:00, which was ambitious for me. My injury made me back off that goal a bit, and I honestly didn't think I'd do well, given the weather. But even without a perfect training period, my time was only five minutes off that ambitious goal.

All of this leads to the head slapping, "duh" revelation:
If I try to do something, I just might do it. Even if I don't quite make that goal, I'll do better than I would have otherwise.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Trisko Race Report: Quad Cities Distance Classic

Yesterday, I ran my very first trisko*, the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Training, as dedicated and sexy readers know, has not gone according to plan. I was hoping to run 2:00 or faster, in preparation for aggressive marathon training, but an injured shin meant I had to miss a week of training and back off the speed workouts in a big way. So, going into the race, my official goal was "whatever," though I would have been happy with anything under 2:30.

I was awakened yesterday morning when a huge gust of wind rattled Stately Wasser Manor. The weather was absolutely horrible - pouring rain, cold, with high gusts of wind. I was soaking wet after just walking through the parking lot. It was not a good start. While I was stretching (and people watching), I heard a man say, "I'm glad I'm just doing the 5K. With this weather, the half marathon is just going to be miserable." Thanks, dude. It might be true, but I so did not want to hear it. A big part of me just wanted to bag it. To either run the 5K or just crawl back into bed for some Mother's Day pampering. But, I reasoned, a race like this shows what you're made of as a runner. And it might be Mother's Day, but I? Am one tough mother.

"One tough mother" became my mantra as I ran the race.

I took my place at the start, along with my fellow sufferers. The race director said, "Okay, I'm going to make this fast. No announcements, no thank yous, no national anthem. I'm just going to fire the gun. Go!"

I'd planned to keep an eye on Paula, my faithful Garmin, to make sure my pace was conservative at the start of the race, but Paula was struggling. She couldn't get satellite reception for the first four miles, so I decided to just run comfortably and see what happened. If I finished slow, so be it - this was my first trisko, I was guaranteed a PR, and if my time was slow, well, then it'd just be easier to beat.

The race started off with a bitch of a hill that went from the half mile mark to the mile mark. The hill is just a block away from Stately Wasser Manor, so I've been running it on pretty much every workout. I used to struggle on that hill; yesterday, I kicked its ass.

The Quad Cities Distance Classic is not a big race by any means. There were only 222 people running the trisko, and when I drove the course the day before, I realized that we weren't likely to see many spectators. Add to that the fact that it was Mother's Day and the weather was terrible, well, it definitely wasn't a big race with lots of crowd energy, bands at every mile, or anything like that. It was just me, the other runners, and the volunteers. I made an effort to give a wave to every single volunteer, because standing out in that weather and not even running had to have been lousy.

The race course was scenic, or at least would have been had it not been so horrible out. We ran through Moline and back to Rock Island. The course ran through some really nice residentail neighborhoods - and some sketchy ones. We then ran along the Mississippi, which was definitely flooding.

All the while, the wind battered me. At a few points, it blew behind me, prompting me to run faster than I might have otherwise. Then it would switch and I'd have to lower my head to fight through it - and keep my hat on. Mostly, it blew sideways. And Yoda, but it was cold. I swear I saw sleet and snow and certain points in the race.

At the water stop at mile 5, I spilled most of a cup of water on my gloved hands, but it was so cold out that I was better off wearing the wet gloves than taking them off. I repeated my "One tough mother" mantra, thought of the Toughness Points I was accumulating, and dreamed not of my post-race meal but of a pair of dry socks.

Still, I was feeling good. I passed mile 7 and thought, "Okay, only two three milers left." At mile 10, I took out my cell phone and called Steve so that he and Jack (and my mom and stepdad) could come to the finish line to watch me. Jack got on the phone and said, "Go, Mommy, go!" which spurred me on further.

At mile 12, there was a long incline that was no fun whatsoever. I started to feel pain in the achilles tendons of both legs. That was a new one - my achilles have not bothered me in the least in all of my training runs. So, I attempted some of the mental exercises I've read about and told it, "Hey, achilles pain? Now is not a good time. After I finish this race, I will give you all kinds of attention. I will slather you in Biofreeze and take a ton of Advil, but for now, pipe down." Other runners were struggling, and I passed a ton of people on that hill.

As I headed into the final part of the race, my power song, "All These Things That I've Done," came on. Awesome, as that song is always in my head when I picture finishing a race. The last part of the race is a lap around the track at Augustana College, and Steve, Jack, my mom, and stepdad were there cheering for me and waving at me. I'd been looking forward to seeing their faces, and it really energized me.

I rocked it around the track, passing three people before I headed into the finish chute. The volunteers who took my name from my race number and handed me a finisher's medal were amazed at my kick. Jack almost knocked me to the ground with a mighty leg hug, then I got hugs from Steve, my mom, and stepdad. Other runners milling around smiled that it was a good Mother's Day present, and I have to agree.

One of the other runners, who I think of as Red Vest Guy, came and congratulated me on my race. "You were a good pacer," he said, and I told him he was too. Red Vest Guy and I were close to each other throughout the race. He'd pass me, then I'd chase his red vest and I'd pass him, and so on. I don't even know which one of us finished the race first, but I do know that keeping an eye on him helped me run better.

And how'd I do? Well, like I said, given my injuries and the conditions, I stuck firm with my goal time of "whatever." So, imagine how happy I was when I saw the clock at the finish reading 2:05. That means that I ran those 13.1 miles at an average pace of 9:34 per mile. I came in 9th for my age group and feel just incredibly proud. I finished the race with a new mantra, a new distance under my belt, a ton of Toughness Points, and a PR that is going to be a challenge to beat.

*that's a half marathon to those of you who haven't fully bought into my rebranding of the race.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Oedipus Wrecks

The other night, Jack and I were talking about princesses. As you do. And I asked him which princess is his favorite. He amended his initial response of "all of them" to say Princess Giselle. Why? "Because she wears that beautiful big white dress, Mommy. You should get one like that."

I told Jack that I do have a big white dress like that. In fact, my big white dress is probably only slightly smaller than the comically exaggerated dress from Enchanted. Jack was amazed that I have a dress like that, yet do not wear it every single day, because really, why wouldn't you?

Before he could suggest that I get my dress out of the place where I have it hermetically sealed, I distracted him with an album of wedding pictures. Jack loved them. Not only did they feature a very glamorous Mommy and Daddy, but lots of other people Jack knows. Seeing his older, sophisticated (he is 12, after all) cousin Devin as a baby? Fascinating. Then, Jack and I had this conversation.

Jack: Mommy? When you get married again, will you marry me?

Me: I can't, buddy. I'm already married to Daddy.

Jack: Well, then what am I supposed to do?

I suggested that he could marry somebody else. Somebody smart and funny and... "Membe Cinderella," Jack suggested. Then he had an even better idea: Princess Jasmine, from Aladdin. After all, Princess Jasmine is brave, smart, pretty, and has a pet tiger, just like Jack. Clearly, the two of them already have a lot in common.

Non-Taper Madness

Marathoners know the perils of Taper Madness. That is, in the final few weeks before the big race, we turn down the miles and turn up the Crazy. It makes sense that this would happen. A marathon is a big challenge, no matter how experienced you are. And you know what helps all of us runners relieve stress and keep from losing our damned minds? Running. Which, during the taper, you are doing signficantly less of.

Not long ago, I predicted that, since I'm training for a trisko, I'd avoid any of the Crazy. The distance isn't nearly as daunting to me - I have no doubt in my mind that I can finish it. And no taper mean no Taper Madness, right?

Please, take a moment to laugh at me. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Because the truth of the matter is, I get nervous before every single race. I was full-blown crazy before the marathon, to be sure, but I feel butterflies even when I'm about to do a 5K.

My nervousness defies reason. That 5k, 4 miler, 7 miler, or even the trisko? I know I can finish these distances. I even know I'm not going to come in last... and it's not like there's any chance I'm going to win or even get an age group award. There is absolutely no pressure on me whatsover. And yet, nervous crazy thoughts abound as I wait for the race to start.

I have started to get nervous about the trisko already. Again, I know I'm not coming in last, and I know I'm not going to win anything. My race goal of "whatever"? I'm pretty sure I can pull that one off. Plus, since this is my first trisko, I have a guaranteed PR.

So, why was I up last night, unable to sleep, running through scenerios and mile splits in my head?

Thursday, May 08, 2008

The Last 6.2

Today's topic for Take It and Run Thursday is marathon madness. There are a lot of things I could say about the experience of training for and running a marathon, but today I'm just going to focus on the final 6.2 miles.

I get a kick out of this t-shirt:

because for me, that final 10K was a true test. Like many marathoners, the longest run I'd done in training was 20 miles. It felt like a huge leap of faith to think that another 6.2 miles would be no problem, considering that running 20 was such a challenge. But I set out on that fall morning in Des Moines trying to be as confident as possible that I could do it.

My husband and son were waiting for me at the 20 mile mark. They waved, cheered, blew kisses, and promised they'd see me just before the finish line.

As I passed them, a huge smile found its way across my face. In that moment, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to finish the marathon. I felt absolutely giddy. All of those months of training were coming together. And with every step I took, I was running farther than I'd ever gone before. I passed a group of high school students who were playing the drums and as I crossed over into the park, I felt like I could conquer the world.

The trouble was, fatigue was starting to set in. My problem wasn't The Wall (which I never hit) so much as keeping my mental focus. Four plus hours is a long time to be doing anything; you can get bored watching a movie that's that long, much less spending all that time running.

I found myself taking walk breaks, not so much because my legs were tired, but to break up the monotony. I made a deal with myself: I would run the final two miles, no walking. Then, I spotted a pacer holding a great big 5:00 sign. I dug deep, started running again, and passed him. At 24 miles, I took my final cup of water. Before long, I was at 25 miles. Just 1.2 miles to go, I thought. That's not so bad.

That last mile was the longest mile I have ever run. For the entire race, I'd been surrounded by people, but in that last mile, things were quiet. There were no spectators or volunteers anywhere near by. Only a few runners were close to me, and I could see all of them struggling. One guy passed me, then stopped to walk I don't know how many times. He finally gave up and just walked.

In that final mile, I pulled out every trick I knew to keep going. I flipped through my iPod for good songs. I chanted my running mantra to myself: I am strong. I am tough. I can do this. I am a marathoner. I focused on objects a bit ahead of me and imagined myself pulling on them, moving myself further along.

Finally, I reached a volunteer. He pointed off to the left and said, "See that red thing right there? That's the finish line. Go get it."


As I ran towards that finish, the streets began to be lined with spectators. "Give me some love," I asked, and they'd cheer for me. The big smile was back on my face and grew even bigger when I saw Steve and Jack.

The two of them were about a quarter mile away from the finish line. Steve was holding up Jack so he could see me, and the two of them were grinning at me, yelling and cheering like crazy. It is a sight that I will never forget as long as I live.

I ran past the two of them, and the rest of the race was all me. I looked at that finish line, and kicked it in. I'm sure it's a mental thing, because for all of my running life, no matter how hard I've worked or how tired I am, I can always kick it to the finish line.

I'd imagined crossing the finish line a million times in my training. And always, the soundtrack was my power song, "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers. That song was running through my head as I ran on:

While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on

My eyes welled up as I crossed that line. A volunteer gave me my finisher's medal and wrapped me in a silver blanket. For the first time in four hours and 57 minutes, I had stopped moving forward. I quickly realized three things:

1. I was HUNGRY.
2. Holy sweet Yoda in the swamps of Dagobah, but my legs hurt!
3. I was a marathoner.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008



I need your help!

I think that Paula, my beloved Garmin Forerunner 205, is bruising my wrist.

I suppose it stands to reason that if you wear a watch the size of a Buick that this kind of thing would happen. As I run, Paula apparently whacks against that little round knobby bone on my left wrist.

Anyone else have this going on? Any ideas?

My one thought is to wear a wristband under Paula, to kind of cushion my wrist. And, if I have to, I'll just wear her on my right wrist for the trisko.

Save me, Internet! Prove that you're good for more than just eBay and porn.


I went to my local running store at lunch today because I was out of Body Glide. I bought said Body Glide, then accidentally also purchased some Sport Beans. And tights.


Thursday, May 01, 2008

I've Got Questions

It's Thursday, which means another Take It and Run Thursday. This week, I get the opportunity to be completely devoid of knowledge and insight. Instead, I turn the tables on my BRF's and ask for your advice.

And babies, I've got questions.

1. What kind of vitamins do you take?
I have a handful of vitamins that I take every day. A multi-vitamin, sort of as insurance. And because I'm anemic, I take iron twice a day, plus a Vitamin C supplement that aids in the absorbtion of iron. But I see other stuff in the aisle at the drug store that intrigues me. Glucosamine, anybody?

2. How do you integrate shorter races into an overall training plan?
I've got a fall marathon that I am about to start training for, and I'm following a plan that is more intense than the one I did last time around. Still, I like to do the occasional 5K, or run the Bix 7. There are a ton of races where I live, and it's a lot of fun to run them and be around the people, get the t-shirt, what have you. But weekends are also the time for my long runs. If I am running a 5K on a day that I have a 10 miler scheduled, is there a way to do both? Do I run a 5K, then run 7 miles later instead of 10? Do I run the 10 miler the next day? Or, if I am truly serious about the marathon, do I skip these shorter races and focus just on training?

3. Has anyone used the FIRST program for something other than a first marathon?
One of the problems I'm running into lately with my trisko training is that Uncle Hal has me running pretty much every day except for Fridays and Mondays - and sometimes a weekend day off. I love to run, but on nights that my husband has to work late - or that we get sweet 12th row seats to see Go Diego Go Live - I end up missing a day of training... and worrying about getting in the miles to be prepared. Running three days a week with FIRST is intriguing to me, so I'd love anyone's impressions of the plan, especially for someone not running their first marathon.

I guess that's it for now. Thanks, BRF's!