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.
Showing posts with label bix 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bix 7. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Magnificent Seven
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.
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.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Race Report: Bix 7
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.
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.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Running in an Oven
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.
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.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Coach, I'm In
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.
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.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Report Card
It's time for Take It and Run Thursday, and Runner's Lounge has challenged us to "look back, look ahead" at our running in 2008. Sounds like time for a report card.
My goal for running in 2008 was to take my running to the next level. My non-running friends didn't get it. "You ran a marathon," they said. "What else is there?" To me, the main differences were in training - and in attitude.
For the first time since high school, I incorporated speedwork into my training. I love my track workouts and look forward to them. I have to admit, I am not such a fan of my tempo runs. They're really hard for me, but I understand their benefit, so I'm going to keep at it. For my last tempo run, I broke from form and listened to a podcast instead of music, and it really helped. I was so engaged in the story that I was able to distract myself effectively from the fact that it was blazing hot, horrifically humid, and I was running pretty fast. That might be my plan moving forward.
I am also proud to say that I've kept up my running during the winter better than I ever have before. I've never been a fair weather only runner, I do tend to slack off when the weather gets cold. But this year, I kept at it - in rain, in snow, and most recently, in hail. Honestly, it's not about suffering for me. I suffer more, mentally, at least, when I don't go running.
I added a new distance to my resume - the trisko (half marathon, if you're still calling it that). I can find something to love about any distance, but I am a big fan of the trisko. It's long enough to be challenging, but short enough such that the training doesn't take up quite as much of my life. I will definitely be running the trisko at the Quad Cities Distance Classic every Mother's Day from now on. I am also hoping to find an earlier trisko to run, maybe in April, next year.
I'm paying closer attention to my diet - or, to be more accurate, I am not seeing my running as an all-access pass to eat whatever I want whenever I want. I didn't gain any weight during my training last year, but I made frequent trips to the coffee place down the street from my office that, according to my extensive research offers the finest chocolate chip cookies in all of downtown Davenport. I haven't had one of those cookies in ages, snacking instead on almonds, fresh fruit, and other annoyingly virtuous items. I don't think I've lost any pounds, but I can see a difference in how my stomach looks, which is always a good thing for those of us who've given birth.
I've added weight training to my regimen, but I have to admit that I've been slacking off lately. Work has been ridiculous and... well... this entry is about looking ahead as well as looking back, so Internet, I promise - I am going to go lift at lunch today.
Then there's the mental aspect of things, which I suppose goes hand in hand with the rest. When I saw a doctor over the winter for a nagging knee problem, he repeatedly described me as an athlete. I was immensely flattered, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like the description fit. I may not be ready to win any age group awards yet, and I'm not fast enough to qualify for Boston, but my running is a huge part of who I am and is very important to me. That makes it easier for me to go to bed early, eat good foods, and generally take care of myself. It gives me the ability to tell the very nice race director who I met at the track on Tuesday that his 5K sounds like fun, but that it doesn't fit in with my training program right now.
Looking ahead, I have tremendous confidence about my upcoming marathon. Last year, I was thinking, "I'm pretty sure I can do it," but this year, I know I can. I already feel like I am mentally and physically able to turn in a solid performance and get a PR. Remind me of that when I start in on the taper madness, okay?
After the marathon is over, I am declaring the rest of the fall to be cross country season. After the Bix, Tom and I reminisced about how much fun cross country season was. It brought back great memories of the cool weather, the feeling of running on dirt, the beautiful scenery in the woods, the challenges of the hills. I am going to seek out as many cross country style races as possible, culminating, of course, in the most fun race of all time, Living History Farms.
Sure, it'll be tough, but I can handle it. I'm an athlete.
Especially if I lift today.
My goal for running in 2008 was to take my running to the next level. My non-running friends didn't get it. "You ran a marathon," they said. "What else is there?" To me, the main differences were in training - and in attitude.
For the first time since high school, I incorporated speedwork into my training. I love my track workouts and look forward to them. I have to admit, I am not such a fan of my tempo runs. They're really hard for me, but I understand their benefit, so I'm going to keep at it. For my last tempo run, I broke from form and listened to a podcast instead of music, and it really helped. I was so engaged in the story that I was able to distract myself effectively from the fact that it was blazing hot, horrifically humid, and I was running pretty fast. That might be my plan moving forward.
I am also proud to say that I've kept up my running during the winter better than I ever have before. I've never been a fair weather only runner, I do tend to slack off when the weather gets cold. But this year, I kept at it - in rain, in snow, and most recently, in hail. Honestly, it's not about suffering for me. I suffer more, mentally, at least, when I don't go running.I added a new distance to my resume - the trisko (half marathon, if you're still calling it that). I can find something to love about any distance, but I am a big fan of the trisko. It's long enough to be challenging, but short enough such that the training doesn't take up quite as much of my life. I will definitely be running the trisko at the Quad Cities Distance Classic every Mother's Day from now on. I am also hoping to find an earlier trisko to run, maybe in April, next year.
I'm paying closer attention to my diet - or, to be more accurate, I am not seeing my running as an all-access pass to eat whatever I want whenever I want. I didn't gain any weight during my training last year, but I made frequent trips to the coffee place down the street from my office that, according to my extensive research offers the finest chocolate chip cookies in all of downtown Davenport. I haven't had one of those cookies in ages, snacking instead on almonds, fresh fruit, and other annoyingly virtuous items. I don't think I've lost any pounds, but I can see a difference in how my stomach looks, which is always a good thing for those of us who've given birth.
I've added weight training to my regimen, but I have to admit that I've been slacking off lately. Work has been ridiculous and... well... this entry is about looking ahead as well as looking back, so Internet, I promise - I am going to go lift at lunch today.
Then there's the mental aspect of things, which I suppose goes hand in hand with the rest. When I saw a doctor over the winter for a nagging knee problem, he repeatedly described me as an athlete. I was immensely flattered, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like the description fit. I may not be ready to win any age group awards yet, and I'm not fast enough to qualify for Boston, but my running is a huge part of who I am and is very important to me. That makes it easier for me to go to bed early, eat good foods, and generally take care of myself. It gives me the ability to tell the very nice race director who I met at the track on Tuesday that his 5K sounds like fun, but that it doesn't fit in with my training program right now.
Looking ahead, I have tremendous confidence about my upcoming marathon. Last year, I was thinking, "I'm pretty sure I can do it," but this year, I know I can. I already feel like I am mentally and physically able to turn in a solid performance and get a PR. Remind me of that when I start in on the taper madness, okay?
After the marathon is over, I am declaring the rest of the fall to be cross country season. After the Bix, Tom and I reminisced about how much fun cross country season was. It brought back great memories of the cool weather, the feeling of running on dirt, the beautiful scenery in the woods, the challenges of the hills. I am going to seek out as many cross country style races as possible, culminating, of course, in the most fun race of all time, Living History Farms.
Sure, it'll be tough, but I can handle it. I'm an athlete.
Especially if I lift today.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Race Report: 2008 Bix 7
As I've mentioned before, the Bix 7 is my hometown race, and one that I'm extremely proud of. Incredible turnout, elite runners, and a course packed with spectators. Every once in a while, someone will find out that I'm a runner and will ask if I'm going to run the Bix. Please: there is no way I could live in the Quad Cities, call myself a runner, and not run this race.
Looking back on this year's run, I have admittedly mixed feelings. I finished it in 1:06:58, which is a PR for me (as far as I know - I have no idea how fast I ran the race back in high school). But honestly, I know I could have done better. My times for a 10K and a trisko definitely indicate that I can keep up a faster pace than I did. But I started in a slower pace group than I could have (which I'll explain), and that definitely cost me. I looked at my Garmin splits after the race and discovered that I ran the first mile in 12:something and the last mile in 7:40. That's not what I call a negative split, that's what I call clear evidence that I wasn't running hard enough in that first mile. Next year, my goal will be to finish in an hour or less. My goal for this minute is to keep my race experience in perspective.
My Bix experience started on Friday afternoon. Several of my co-workers were also running the race, so we walked over to the race expo to pick up our packets and check out the expo. I ended up buying a Bondi band, which I think I like, and a totally cute t-shirt. It's brown and says Marathon Girl in pink. The buzz and excitement were definitely building.
Friday night, Steve and I took Jack to run the Junior Bix, which for him is a 70 yard run. Jack was really, really excited about the race. He was excited to run his fastest, to see the other kids, to wear his race number, and on and on - the kid talked non-stop about how cool it was going to be.
Because Jack's mommy is a runner, unlike most of the other kids there, he was not wearing his 2008 Junior Bix t-shirt. We runners all know that not only would that be lame, but it's bad luck to wear a t-shirt for a race you have not yet finished. Instead, he had the cachet of wearing his 2007 Junior Bix shirt, making it clear that he is a sophisticated veteran runner. I won't go completely crazy and have him wear a technical fabric until he graduates to the half mile distance.
Jack opted to have Steve be his race support, so I waited on the sidelines to get pictures. There were more people crossing the finish line in tears in the two-year-old division than you'll probably see in any marathon. When it was finally Jack's turn, he tore off down the street, leaving Steve in his dust. He had a look of absolute joy on his face that made me incredibly proud. Jack spent the rest of the night showing off his finisher's medal. There's no doubt about it: my boy is a runner.
My other boy - that is, my husband - is less emphatically a runner. Steve likes running, but it's something that he doesn't have a lot of time for, thanks to his many other interests. Leading up to the race, he really didn't feel adequately prepared. In the two days prior, he must have changed his mind a dozen times about whether he'd go the full seven miles or just do the Quick Bix, a two mile version of the course. On Saturday morning, minutes before the start, he made his decision: he was going for it. As Steve explained later, "I'm not a devoted runner, but I love the Bix."
I am at the (obnoxious) point in my running where a seven mile run - even on a hilly course - is not a big deal to me. It is a big deal to Steve, and it makes me proud (a word I seem to be using a lot in this post) to know that even though it was going to be difficult, he wanted to go for it.
So, on race morning, I was feeling good. The streets were packed with runners. Steve was ready to make a bold move. And what could make me feel even better? Meeting up with Amy and Tom of Runners' Lounge, of course. The four of us chatted, enjoying that delicious pre-race anticipation.
When it was time to line up for the start, I opted to join Steve, even though he was in the start group behind the one I was slated for. He made the tough decision to run a really challenging race; the least I could so was start with him. And as a bonus, Amy started with us, too! (Tom left us in his dust to hang with the Kenyans and Ethiopians, I think.)
The gun went of and... nothing happened. It was probably a good 10 minutes before we actually made it to the starting line. But there were so many people there that I lost both Amy and Steve before the race even started.
My first mile, as I said, was slow. I was stuck in a giant wall of humanity making its way up the very steep Brady Street hill. I couldn't have run faster if I tried (and I did). By the time I hit the second mile, I'd woven around enough people that I was able to pretty much hit my stride.
Mile three brought with it some of the worst hills. But I was also able to engage in some excellent people watching as I saw other, faster runners headed back to the finish. It gave me quite a lift to see Tom, huge smile on his face, give me an encouraging wave. On the way back, I was happy to see Steve in around the same place where I saw Tom. He and I cheered for each other and gave each other a high five.
In miles four and five, the hills, of course, continued. I was still feeling pretty fresh, so I started picking off runners who were more tired. In the last two miles, I was able to really turn it on. I'd focus on a runner about 100 meters ahead of me and take her down. As in, "I'm coming for you, Pink Hat." I kicked it to the end for a strong finish.
And then, it was time for the post-race party! First things first: I grabbed a popsicle, root beer flavored, and among the finest creations on God's earth. Then, I headed to our designated meeting spot, the flag pole. The first to join me was Tom. I was happy to see that the smile I saw before hadn't left his face, and he vowed to never miss another Bix again. Yay, a new convert!
A few minutes later, a tired looking Amy joined us. She glared at me at first, but once she got talking about the crowds, the great running t-shirts she saw along the way, and the ample junk food, she perked right up. Steve joined us next, drooping at our feet and eating chips for energy, followed by fellow Lounger Dennis and his brother Devin.
Running the race was fun, but hanging out afterwards with friends was even better. We all took advantage of the post-race junk food buffet. I went to get a second popsicle and learned that they were all out of root beer, so I had to settle for grape. "It's a motivation to run faster next year," explained the volunteeer. "We had a new flavor this year, raspberry, but those went fast." I now have a fabulous mental image of all of the Kenyans and Ethiopians crowded around the truck scarfing down raspberry popsicles. And then there was this.
Amy: Do you know what they have here? Twinkies! When was the last time you had a Twinkie?
Tom: About ten minutes ago.
Amy and Tom promised to come back for more Bixes in the future, which made me very happy. And I told them before, and I'll say it again so the whole Internet can hear me: if you guys do a Runners' Lounge booth at the expo, I'll take the day off work to help.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Bix at Six Kix
So, Internet, you guys probably have hometown races that you really like running. But I can confidently say*, mine kicks the most heiney-butt. Here in the scenic, and now mostly above water Quad Cities, we have the Bix 7. It's a seven mile race on a challenging, hilly course that attracts elite runners to the point where there are statues of Bill Rodgers and Joan Benoit-Samuelson near where the Michelob Ultra will be at the post-race party.
Not only that, but every Thursday on the weeks preceding the race, there is an official Bix at Six training run on the race course. As fate would have it, I was scheduled to do a 7-mile tempo run last night, so I went for it.
Hundreds of people showed up, the streets were blocked off, spectators cheered, water stops were plentiful, and sprinklers cooled us off... again, all for a training run.
It was a great night to be a runner.
Oh, also? I run 7.21 miles (the training course is a little bit farther) in 1:06 something. Woo hoo!
*unless you live in, um, Boston, or something, which totally doesn't count.
Not only that, but every Thursday on the weeks preceding the race, there is an official Bix at Six training run on the race course. As fate would have it, I was scheduled to do a 7-mile tempo run last night, so I went for it.
Hundreds of people showed up, the streets were blocked off, spectators cheered, water stops were plentiful, and sprinklers cooled us off... again, all for a training run.
It was a great night to be a runner.
Oh, also? I run 7.21 miles (the training course is a little bit farther) in 1:06 something. Woo hoo!
*unless you live in, um, Boston, or something, which totally doesn't count.
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