6.2 miles of friends

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.

Running Down a Dream

Happy Take It and Run Thursday, Interwebs! Today's topic is running hopes, dreams, and wishes. I've talked about my running dreams many times, from my current Quest for the Perfect Socks to my perfectly reasonable goal of running the Boston Marathon with George Clooney as my personal pacer, dressed like Wonder Woman, while The Killers perform "All These Things That I've Done" live. Y'know, the usual.

But I do have one dream that is bigger than all of the others.

Some day, I want to run a marathon with Jack.


If you've run a marathon before, you know the gamut of emotions that you go through as you cover those 26.2 miles. It is, as Emil Zatopek said, an experience - from happiness to fear to struggle and back to happiness again. To share all of those feelings, to live that experience, with one of the people who I love most in the world would be nothing short of magical for me.

I have to believe that Jack has a marathon in him. At three years old, he has the determination to run 1/4 mile, which is a lot if you're only 40 inches tall, and as his mother, I am all too familiar with his stubbornness when there's something he wants, all good traits for a marathoner. More importantly, look at the joy on his face in this picture:

That is the face of a person who loves to run.

I know it may be a few years before Jack's ready to do 26.2 with me. If we tried right now, chances are I'd have to figure out a way to bring the portable DVD player with us so he wouldn't get bored, or we'd end up arguing about whether or not to run the race carrying lightsabers. And really, anyone who throws such a big fit about getting his toenails cut that he gets a nosebleed (this actually happened on Monday) isn't quite ready for the prospect of losing a toenail altogether.

But my dream is that one day, when my best little guy isn't so little any more, he and I will cross the finish line of a marathon together. And he'll be an even better pacer than George Clooney.

Marathon vs. Childbirth

The always fabulous Marcy is gearing up for her first marathon and poses the eternal question:

Does running a marathon hurt as much as childbirth?

It's a comparison I've encountered more than once. And seeing as how I've done both things, I feel qualified to tackle this one.

Preparation: No doubt about it, training for a marathon can be a bitch. Track workouts, tempo runs, and long runs can create a host of pain, from cramping, sore knees, shin splints, sunburn, blisters, missing toenails, and chafing. You're out in all kinds of weather, dragging yourself out of bed at ridiculous times of day. On the other hand, being pregnant isn't exactly a picnic, either. There's the first trimester, which was marked for me as three months of alternating dry heaves and crushing fatigue. I felt like absolute hell, but I didn't look pregnant yet, so I was just some crazy chick gagging at the scent of anti-bacterial soap. Then, in the second trimester, all of a sudden none of my clothes fit me, I was constantly kicked in the ribs by a freakishly strong baby, and to add insult to injury, developed stretch marks on just about every part of my body. But that was just a warm-up for the third trimester, in which I had restless leg syndrome, pain in my sciatic nerve, a constant pressure on my tailbone, a sore lower back, and well hello, my old friend fatigue! I'd love to sleep, but this kid keeps squirming around all night long. And if there was any other doubt, marathon training takes 18 weeks, pregnancy takes 40. Worse: Childbirth

Hero Factor Compare and contrast: "Wow, a marathon! I could never do that!" versus, "Oh, you're planning on an epidural? Well, I had an unmedicated water birth surrounded by three generations of women in my family. But I'm sure that will be nice for you." Worse: Childbirth

Anticipation: The weeks leading up to a marathon are tough. You're stressed out, poring over the course map, worrying about the weather, wondering about what to wear, thinking you might not be able to finish. But the weeks leading up to having a baby include people telling you how gigantic you are (thanks), feeling like hell, and realizing that there is absolutely no way you can back out of this ridiculous endeavor. Plus, you know exactly when your marathon is going to start, so at least you can be prepared. That baby will show up whenever he damned well feels like it. Worse: Childbirth

Pain: During my worst ever pain in a marathon, I felt uncomfortable to the point where I needed a walk break. During my worst ever pain in childbirth, I curled up into a tiny ball in bed, silently turning purple until it was over, unable to walk or talk. Sure, you can get drugs for the childbirth, and let me tell you, they work. But my longest marathon was less than five hours. In contrast, I started having labor pains on December 22, only to have the actual child on December 24. Worse: Childbirth

Recovery: I bounced back from both the marathons and the childbirth pretty equally. After the marathons, I took Advil for a couple of days, took some time off from running, and was fine. The baby-having was a little more dramatic, since I had a C-section. On Christmas of 2004, I was unable to move my legs for much of the day, and the pain I experienced the first time I tried to walk to the bathroom was probably the worst I have ever experienced. But by the next day, I was feeling pretty good, to the point where I never bothered to fill my prescription for pain meds. Worse: Childbirth, but only slightly

Swag Because I have a fabulous husband, I score jewelry after both giving birth and finishing marathons, so it's a draw there, provided you were smart enough to marry a good guy. But other than that? Finisher's medal vs. beautiful new baby? Worse: Marathon, easily.

So, there you go - having a baby is way more painful than running a silly little marathon. Marcy's got two kids, so homegirl has nothing to worry about. And men, you can forgive us if we smile a bit indulgently when you talk about how much it hurt when you bonked.

2 States, 5 Cities, 26.2 Miles... Part 4

As soon as I crossed the 20 mile mark, I started scanning the streets for Steve's bright yellow windbreaker. Everybody cheered for me, and my Mom asked, "How are you doing?" I had to admit that I did not feel good. Again carrying Jack, Steve ran along side of me and asked what was wrong. He was afraid that maybe I was hurt - he told me later that he could see a difference - in my face, in my stride, everything - when I got off the island. I explained that I was really tired and that my legs were cramping.

"You can do this," Steve said. "You just need to run 3 miles there, then another 3 miles back. You can do 3 miles in your sleep. You'll be done before you know it."

Is he a great runner husband or what? You can really tell he's been listening and knows how to make the crazy sound completely reasonable.

The course went along side the river in Moline, a place where I have run many, many times. It was out and back, so I was able to see other runners headed towards the finish line when I was headed out and vice versa. I actually liked that a lot - it made the last 10K seem less lonely than it did when I ran in Des Moines. I saw my brother, then Kent, both of whom gave me high fives.

Still, you guys, I was tired. When the 22 mile marker was in sight, I tried an experiment in which I picked up the pace big time and headed towards it. Sweet Yoda, did my knees scream at me for that one. Lesson learned: slow and steady with walk breaks as needed.

A bit later, a guy in a hat came up next to me and started chatting with me. We agreed that my 4:30 goal wasn't going to happen, but talked positive - that most people in the world could not do what we were doing at that very moment, and that we were setting a positive example for our friends and family. I thought about Jack, his beaming pride at racing a fine quarter mile, and the way he says, "That lady is running like Mommy" every time he sees a runner. He and I stuck pretty close together for several miles. In the book The Non-Runner's Marathon Guide, they talk about a "running angel," someone who appears when you most need a boost. Maybe it's a spectator ringing a cowbell, or a volunteer with an orange slice when you desperately need it. In my case, the guy in the hat was my running angel. He helped me keep my mind off of how much I was hurting and helped me focus on why I was running.

On we ran, all the way through Moline, then basically did a toe touch in East Moline. There, the UTHS cheerleaders had built a giant wall for us to run through, which was pretty darned cool.

I struggled on, thinking, "Okay, I can do this," which I must have unwittingly said out loud, since another runner looked at me and said, "Yes, you can." I tried my best to focus on how hard I'd worked, how far I've come, and all of the reasons I'm a runner. I thought about other things that I've done in my life that have been physically difficult that I got through. And I looked at the runners headed in the other direction and thought how they'd change places with me if they could, to be as close to the finish as I was. I knew that 4:30 was no longer a possibility, but I knew that even if I ran slowly, I could still get 4:45 or better, which would still be a PR.

With one mile to go, I focused on runners ahead of me and did my best to pass them, catching two. My mom, Doug, and Andy were near the finish line, cheering for me. Andy looked tired and very happy to not be running. I picked up my pace, with the finish line in sight... and strained my eyes for the yellow windbreaker I'd been looking for all day. Steve and Jack went crazy cheering for me, but you can really see the struggle on my face at that point.

The announcer called, "And coming in to the finish line, Betsy Wasser of Moline!" I put my arms up in celebration, then heard, "Congratulations, Mom. Looks like you've got a little one helping you out." I looked down, and sure enough, Jack was running me in to the finish. Crossing the finish line of a marathon is a peak experience; having Jack by my side made that peak experience even stronger.

My finishing time? 4:38:23. I didn't make my 4:30 goal, but considering what a hard time I had at the end, I am very proud of the fact that I came so close. Even more importantly, I beat my previous time by almost 20 minutes.

After a rest, it was time to head home - but first, I spotted my running angel, the guy in the hat. I told everyone to wait and rushed (okay, shuffled at a slightly elevated pace) over to talk to him. I told him how much he helped me, how much easier finishing the race was because of him. I told him that on that day, he was my running angel. He smiled and said that getting a finisher's medal is a great feeling, but that knowing he'd helped a fellow runner was even better. We hugged, and I headed home. I hope one day to be able to do the same for someone else.

The rest of the day was spent dozing in bed, watching movies with Jack. We went out for a celebratory dinner, and Steve and Jack presented me with a new charm bracelet to congratulate me on a great race. I can't wait to add more charms to it as I finish more races.

"We are different, in essence, from other men. If you want to win something, run 100 meters. If you want to experience something, run a marathon."
-Emil Zatopek

2 States, 5 Cities, 26.2 Miles, Part 3

I tried my best to think positive about running on the Arsenal. I'd heard it was rough - 7 miles, which included the dreaded "middle miles," and with spectators few and far between. That was all true and it was not good. It was, however, really pretty. We got to run along the river some more, at at that point in the morning, it was filled with sailboats. Lovely, right? There were also plenty of trees, a nice golf course, and some interesting houses and whatnot.

However, it was absolutely true that there was a dearth of spectators. At around mile 16, I started to get tired. My legs were cramping, and I really did not feel great. I could not have been more ready to get off the island. For the first time all morning, I started taking walk breaks of more than a few steps.

I got a bit of a boost at mile 19, when I saw an old friend of mine from high school. She was volunteering and did an outstanding job of cheering her lungs out for me. I kept on pushing through, my entire focus being to get off the island and hit the 20 mile mark. There, I knew I'd see my family again and be so very close to do.

Fatigue was setting in bigtime when the 4:30 pace group passed me. I did my best to keep them in my sights as I finally left Arsenal Island.

To be continued...

2 States, 5 Cities, 26.2 Miles... Part 2

And we were off! The race course got really cool immediately as we crossed the I-74 bridge over the Mississippi River into Iowa. This is the only time that the bridge is ever open to pedestrians, and the view was spectacular. We ran into Bettendorf, Iowa, up a slight incline, then back down to run along the river. At some point in the downhill, I got ahead of the 4:30 pace group, but I felt so good that I kept on going, cruising along at or under 10:00 miles.

At around the 6 mile mark, I was greeted by my family - Steve (wearing a bright yellow jacket that I looked for all day, Jack clanging his cowbell, and my mom and Doug holding up signs for me.

I continued along the river, enjoying the beautiful views. I feel very fortunate as a runner that any time I want to go running, I can do so along the banks of the Mississippi, and to be able to run my hometown marathon there was a thrill. My family greeted me again at 10 miles as I ran through Davenport.

We crossed over the Centennial Bridge, back to Illinois, this time in Rock Island. The course ran around downtown, and there were nice pockets of spectators. My knee had an odd tinge to it that I decided to nip in the bud, so I called Steve and asked him to have ready 4 Advil for me - and a pack of Sport Beans. At mile 12 or so, he handed it off to me, then he jogged about a block with me, carrying a grinning Jack all the way.

I crossed the half marathon point at around 2:11 and felt fantastic. With that, the course entered Arsenal Island, which I had been warned was deadly dull.

To be continued...

2 States, 5 Cities, 26.2 Miles: Part 1

I've heard about a meme floating around the internets that poses a challenge: if you only had 12 hours to spend in the area where you live now, what would you do? The very first thing I would do?

Run the Quad Cities Marathon.

Running this course was a spectacular way to see some of the most beautiful parts of the area where I live. Even when I was hurting the most, I worked hard to take it in and enjoy myself. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's rewind to Saturday, the day before the race.

Some of the best marathon advice I have read is to get a good night's sleep two nights before the race. The night before, you can count on being nervous and antsy, so there may be nothing you can do to sleep well. But two nights before, you can bank some sleep. That's what I did. Then, the boys and I drove around the course so that Steve could determine the best cheering spots for my support crew.

After that, it was time to go to the race expo - and for Jack to run the Kids' Micromarathon. I bought two new Bondi Bands (I love my first one so much that I was spending a crazy amount of time washing it), a very cool windbreaker in red with the race logo on the back, and a cowbell for Jack. While I was there, I went ahead and joined our the Cornbelt Running Club, a local group I've been meaning to sign up with. As a bonus, I got a logo coffee mug from them.

The rest of the family - my mom, my stepdad, and my brother (who came in to run the marathon as well) arrived in time to watch Jack run. Jack's race was a quarter mile, which is the longest race he's ever run. A quarter mile is a really long way when you're only three, but I knew he could do it. Jack even asked Steve to just watch, rather than run with him. Jack did awesome. He tore up that course with the biggest smile on his face. I ran along the sidelines so I could cheer for him and was very impressed when he turned on the speed at the end and passed a bunch of kids. That's my boy!

Back at Stately Wasser Manor, we enjoyed a pre-race carb dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, salad, bread, and my mom's homemade apple crisp for dessert. I actually slept pretty well, despite a bad dream in which I couldn't find a place to park and missed the start of the race.

Race morning, Andy and I had coffee and bagels, then headed to the race. I love the energy at the starting line. You're surrounded by runners, and there is a delicious anticipation about everything. I found the 4:30 pace group, took my place, and when the gun went off, I found myself thinking, "This is it! I'm running a marathon!"

To be continued...

26.2 Words

Marathon magic comes when you decide to do something so difficult, requiring so much work and dedication. Crossing the finishing line is icing on the cake.




(This is my contribution to this week's Take it and Run Thursday, in which we were challenged to talk about the marathon in 26 words or less. I used 26... my picture is the .2. Have you ever seen someone so happy to be sitting on a bench eating a sandwich?)

Strategery

Okay, Internet, we are now at less than ONE WEEK before the marathon, so it is time for me to kick up the obsessiveness into high gear. Current topic: race strategy.

My strategy when I ran the Des Moines marathon last year was fairly simple - my goal was (1) to finish and (2) to not die, and I thus achieved that goal by moving in a forward direction until I crossed the finish line and got my medal and space blanket. Mission accomplished!

But this time, I am looking to PR by a significant amount and to finish as strong as I possibly can. But I can think of several different approaches that will get me there.

One thing I have figured out is my hydration and fuel strategy. I will get water and/or Gatorade approximately every three miles and will take Gu or sport beans every six. I will walk through those water stops - my goal is not so ambitious that I can't afford these short breaks, and I know from my long runs that they work well for me.

But what about pace?

Option 1: Program my Garmin, Paula, to prompt me to run a pace that will get me to my goal of 4:30. Aim for even splits. The pros are that this strategy is very straightforward, and obviously will work if I just run as fast as I need to. The con is that what if 4:30 is not the fastest I could have run? What if I end up doing myself a disservice?

Option 2: Fly blind. Use Paula to track mileage, but ignore the pace. Possibly even tape over that part of the screen with blue painter's tape to avoid temptation. When I ran the trisko, I did most of it blind because Paula couldn't get a signal in the bad weather. I ran completely by feel, and I think that because of that, I ran faster than I would have. If I had known how fast I was going, I might have said, "Betsy, that is way too fast for these conditions. Take it easy." The con to this idea is that I might go out too fast and die in the end.

Option 3: Make a hybrid of these two plans, leaving the door open for negative splits. Program Paula to get me on 4:30 pace through the halfway point, then run by feeling, picking it up if I feel up to it.

Well, runners? What say you?

The Best Running Blog You're Not Reading

Running blogs have become yet another way for me to feed my obsession with running. I love seeing what other runners - of different ability levels, of different distances, of different ambitions, in different parts of the world - are thinking about. Learning about what my BRF's are up to makes me laugh, pings at my heart, and makes me want to lace up my shoes and hit the road.

Some running bloggers have developed quite the following. I'll see an article in my feeds and discover that there have been 20 comments before I've even had my coffee. That's super cool, and I love those blogs as much as the next runner. But today, for Take It and Run Thursday, I want to send some love to a blogger who writes great stuff, but that maybe you haven't found yet.

The blog is called Sprinting Around DC, and it's by my friend and fellow Reality News Online editor Sandy.

Sandy became a runner just recently, running her first half marathon in Virginia Beach last year. Running was a challenge for her. She'd email me questions about clothing, gear, whether to run on the sidewalk or on grass - anything she could think of to make her a better runner.

Sandy's early entries are studded with remarks like, "I only had to stop to walk once today!" She worked hard, persevered, and finished with the world's biggest smile on her face.

Then, she kept on going. Specifically, Sandy took her running to an even bigger, better place. She signed on with Team In Training, ran her first marathon, then ran Virginia Beach again, turning in an impressive new PR despite some lousy weather. She also now serves as a team captain for TNT, mentoring people who are becoming runners for the first time, not unlike what she did herself not so long ago. She's also training to run her second marathon ever - and her second one this year. How cool is that? When the fabulous Amy from Runner's Lounge gave me an extra I AM A RUNNER braceleet, I knew I had to send it to Sandy right away. If anyone is a runner, it's Sandy.

It's true that I've been a runner for longer than Sandy has, and she still occasionally emails me looking for advice. But Sandy is absolutely an inspiration to me. I love reading her blog, seeing her continuing joy as she deepens her relationship with running, seeing the strength she derives from her work with TNT, and watching her go from trying not to take too many walk breaks on a five mile run to deciding that one marathon a year isn't enough.

So, go on over to Sandy's blog and discover a great new read.

Guess My Marathon Finishing Time

"Get your weight guessed right here! Only a buck! Actual live weight guessing! Take a chance and win some crap!"
--Navin R. Johnson, The Jerk

I don't know if I've mentioned it lately, but I am running a marathon in just a few weeks.

Oh, I did?

Well, anyway...

One of my new favorite things to obsess over is how fast I am really going to be able to run this race. For my first marathon, I trained to finish, which I did, in 4:57. This time, I want to set a PR, and to put as much time between last year's finish and this year's as possible. But how fast can I run it? The trouble is, any educated predictions are all over the place.

Yasso 800s: The theory is, if you run 8-10 800s a few weeks before your marathon, the time in minutes and seconds will be your marathon finishing time. I ran 800 meter repeats last night, and as an added challenge, had to run them on the street since there was a soccer game rudely interrupting my planned track workout. Even with some sloping hills, my average time was less than 4:00. I really don't think that's going to happen.

So, what about past race performances?

5K: My most recent 5K was a PR of 25:13. I ran it under near ideal conditions. The course was almost completely flat and the weather was gorgeous. This predicts a finishing time of 4:05:50.

10K: Longer distance, tougher conditions. It was July 4, so it was pretty hot and humid. And the course was very hilly and challenging. I finished in 54:59, which predicts a marathon finish of 4:18:02.

Trisko: Even longer distance, even tougher conditions. The course itself wasn't too bad. There was a big, steep hill at mile 2, a steep downhill at around mile 5, and one of those long, gradual, soul-sucking uphills at mile 12. The real challenge was the weather. Pelting rain, strong winds, and catlicking snow in May made that 13.1 miles really challenging. McMillan prediction? 4:23:38.

I don't know, Internet. My goal right now is 4:30, and that seems daunting. What's your prediction? The course is mostly flat, and I am hopeful for nice fall running weather.

In other news, the fine folks at Runners' Lounge featured me for Take The Mike Friday! I am really flattered to have been asked, and this massive wave of publicity makes me think again of the wisdom of Navin R. Johnson.

Navin: The new phone book's here! The new phone book's here!
Harry: Boy, I wish I could get that excited about nothing.
Navin: Nothing? Are you kidding? Page 73 - Johnson, Navin R.! I'm somebody now! Millions of people look at this book everyday! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity - your name in print - that makes people. I'm in print! Things are going to start happening to me now.

Taper Schedule

6:30 AM: The dream about having to stop to pee 47 times in 26.2 miles is thankfully interrupted by the alarm clock.

6:31 AM: Wonder if the alarm is loud enough for race day.

7:00 AM: The first cup of coffee brings back to mind the 47 pee nightmare. Wonder if the usual bagel is an adequate pre-race breakfast, or if perhaps oatmeal would be better.

7:15 AM: A Google search for "pre-marathon breakfast" uncovers an article in an obscure scientific journal suggesting that the ideal breakfast is uji, a thin porridge popular in Kenya. Realize that it is impossible to find uji in your local grocery store, not to mention that such a breakfast has been completely untested pre-long run. Resolve to stick with the bagel.

7:30 AM: Is Garmin charged? Better go check.

8:00 AM: While showering wonder if a warm shower pre-race would be loosen muscles or, conversely, if a cold shower would shock them into pre-emptive recovery. Resolve to Google it at work.

8:15 AM: Oh my God! Where is Garmin? Is it lost? Is there time to buy another one before the race?

8:16 AM: Oh, right; is on charger.

9:00 AM: Google offers no advice on pre-race shower temperature; odd. Post question on online running forum seeking advice.

10:00 AM: Check four online websites for race day weather predictions. None have any forecast, as race is still two weeks away. Opt instead to review meteorological history of marathon date in hopes of determining trends.

11:00 AM: Feel phantom pain in left elbow. Panic. What could it be? Have never heard of runner's elbow. Google!

11:15 AM: Oh, God. Is clearly tendonitis. Will this ruin race plans?

11:16 AM: Huh; elbow seems fine. Never mind.

12:00 PM: Eat high carbohydrate lunch. True, is too early to really store glycogen for the race, but surely some practice carbs will be of some benefit. Or will it?

12:15 PM: Google search inconclusive.

1:00 PM: Coworker suggests walking up and down the stairs for a while, for exercise and to break post-lunch coma. Consider it, but are wary of the potential to fall or get injured and say no, feeling virtuous. Completely ignore look on coworker's face that clearly says, "You're wlling to run 26.2 miles, but you won't walk up and down the stairs with me for 15 minutes?"

2:00 PM: Maybe race day weather is posted. Better check.

3:00 PM: Drink a glass of water, then feel immediate panic: what if race day sports drink is a different, untested flavor?!? Send urgent email to race director and make back-up plan to arm friends with preferred lemon-lime.

4:00 PM: Is that pain in hamstring? Where did that come from? Back to Dr. Google.

4:15 PM: Might be a a total rupture. Oh, God, no!

4:20 PM: Never mind; hamstring pain is gone.

5:00 PM: Five mile run. Feel blissfully free of worry for the first time all day.

6:00 PM: Feel confident that a PR is inevitable.

6:15 PM: Or maybe not. What about that hamstring and elbow thing? Also, weather findings suggest the remote possibility of strong winds for which you are untrained - and that's without even considering the unpredictable weather brought on by global warming. A DNF is inevitable.

6:30 PM: Or maybe a PR. Go to three online race calculators and plug in finish times for recent races ranging from 5K to half marathon, as well as a 20 mile training run.

6:45 PM: Results inconclusive. Attempt to chart out probability, considering projected race day weather and course elevation map.

7:00 PM: All that thinking leads to an ice cream craving. Eat gigantic bowl of it.

7:10 PM: Immediate remorse. Remember about how a 1% loss of body fat will equate a 1% increase in running speed. Lament being so weak.

8:00 PM: Decide to break up crazy thoughts by relaxing with a book. Such as Ultramarathon Man, Performance Nutrition for Runners, or Advanced Marathoning.

9:00 PM: Time to go to sleep, but just want to check online running forums quick.

9:15 PM: Ooh, would be really cool to find race reports from years past of this marathon.

12:00 AM: Oops. Still awake. Chase 2 Tylenol PM with a glass of red wine and hope for the best.

The Last Long Run

Saturday was my last really long run (18 miles) before the Quad Cities Marathon, and it was a glorious end to this phase of my training.

The weather was absolutely perfect - cool, with a slight breeze, and sunny. I will be a very happy woman indeed if the marathon is that nice. Better still, it stayed consistently nice the entire time I was out running.

It was a fun day to be out, too. I started by running downtown and to the river, where there was a lot going on. Set up was underway for the Viva Quad Cities Festival - including a 5K race that I didn't know about until Friday night. Bad job with the publicity, guys. At the same time, people were gathering for an Alzheimer's Memory Walk, so I sent a little love up to my Grandpa, who did with the disease. There were lots of people out on the path by the river riding bikes, walking, running, or just watching the water.

As I did my neighborhood loops, I tried my best to enjoy every moment of it. I feel so much stronger than I did when I started my training for this race. I have four 20 mile training runs under my belt. My speed work is going great. And I think I have learned how to focus better, allowing me to keep going past the point of... not exhaustion, but rather monotony.

Then, with one mile left to go, I felt a very strange feeling in my knee. It was a stinging, burning feeling that actually reminded me of the sensation I got a few weeks ago when I was pulling weeds and got hold of a stinging nettle. I actually swatted at it, like a bee had stung me. Then, I thought calmly to myself, "This will pass." I kept on running, reminding myself gently that this weird feeling was not going to stop me. Sure enough, it faded in just a few minutes.

I had a realization: when I got to the end of the street ahead of me, all of my high mileage weeks would be complete. Just past that stop sign was my taper. I raced for it, then had a relaxing walk home.

I am grateful for my long runs. I am grateful that I have built the strength, confidence, and focus to run as far as I have. For Steve, happy to spend Saturday mornings hanging out with Jack while I run. For Jack, who unfailingly asks me if I had a good run and is always happy to snuggle up and relax with me when it's over. For being able to complete all of these weeks of training with no serious injuries. For all of the time I've been able to spend out on the road, completely alone and happy to be running.

And now, I taper, doing my best to relax (ha) before the big day arrives.

Feels Like the First Time?

Seeing as how I'm less than a month away from my marathon, now is the time for me to find random stuff to freak out about.

Currently on my mind? What if I don't love my second baby as much as I love the first one?

Running my first marathon was a life-changing experience. As the days drew closer to race day, I had a feeling of absolute euphoria. I had worked so hard and had run distances that I had never run before. Before I even ran a step of the race itself, I felt like I had already won.

And after I crossed the finish line with 26.2 miles behind me? Wow. I felt like I could do absolutely anything.

Will finishing my second marathon not be such a big deal? This time around, I don't have that lingering doubt about whether or not I can really run that far - I know I can. I've done it before, and I've trained for it. Will crossing the finish line be ho-hum? Or is every single marathon an exciting, passionate experience?

These questions are not rhetorical, you guys.

Glowing Like a Horse

Saturday morning was my final 20 mile training run in preparation for the marathon. The crazy guys at FIRST schedule a total of 5 20 milers, but I am going to change the last one to 18. I think that 4 20 mile runs should more than prepare me for 26.2, and my good friend Tom at Runners' Lounge thinks the big 2-0 is unnecessary. I'm still glad I hit as many 20's as I did, because it really builds my confidence. The reason I'm backing off the last one is that I don't think I need it, and I want to avoid the prospect of injury or overtraining.

The fact that Saturday's run was a horrifically sweaty experience only sealed the deal.

I thought it would be a pretty decent little run. It wasn't too hot outside. But as our friend the cliche tells us, it's not the heat; it's the humidity. I was the sweatiest person who ever lived.

You may think I was just your standard level of sweaty. Soaked ponytail? Check. Able to wring disturbing amounts of sweat from my wristbands and clothing? Check. Sweat stinging the eyes. Check. Sweaty, yes, but you're not impressed yet.

Well, how about the fact that, during the course of my run, I lost five pounds*? Still not sufficiently horrified? Okay, you asked for it.

At mile 14, I noticed that my shoes and socks were as wet as if I'd stepped in a puddle. They actually made squishing noises as I went. And Internet? I did not step in a puddle. The sweat dripped down from my legs and pooled into my shoes. I debated whether or not to stop at home to get dry socks and ultimately decided it was worth it so I wouldn't have the world's biggest blisters killing my really cute black peep-toed heels at my high school class reunion that night.

Friends, this post has a purpose besides just to gross you out. There was also a lesson learned in there. I'd stashed five bucks in the pocket of the Ridiculously Short Shorts, but it was so sweaty that I was embarassed to spend it. Next time? I will put that bad boy in a plastic bag.



*I had heard that giving birth was the fastest way to lose a great deal of weight really fast, but running 20 miles in the sweltering humidity was even faster. And just in time for my high school reunion!

Marathon Dreams

With 39 days to go until the Quad Cities Marathon, I have already started dreaming about the race. That usually doesn't happen until much later, so I don't quite know what all of this is going to mean for me. Am I more nervous? Is it a good sign? I know that my feelings about this one are different from last time. Instead of thinking, "Wow, can I really run 26.2 miles?" I am thinking, "How strong of a PR can I get?"

Last night, I dreamed that it was the day before the race. I was going around trying to find as many sources of carbs as I possibly could. Pancakes, bread, pasta - mmm! I was also making an effort to drink water and Gatorade all day.

A few weeks ago, I had one that was even better. My brother and I both ran the marathon (which might actually happen and would be awesome). I used a strategy that I've been considering - wearing my Garmin, but not looking at my pace. When I ran the trisko in the spring, I couldn't get coverage for the first half of the race, probably because of the ridiculous storm. As a result, I just ran at a pace that was comfortably challenging, which I think maybe made me run faster than I would have. Anyway, that's what I did in my dream. Andy finished in 3:00, and I finished in 3:03.

Obviously, that's not going to happen. But it was a lovely dream.

In the dream, my first thought upon seeing the clock was just WOW. But that was immediately followed by, "I am going to have to start saving my money for a trip to Boston." Because if I ever qualify for Boston (like a certain other Betsy I could mention), baby, I'm going.

Country Roads, Take Me Home

My long run last weekend was a lot harder than it usually is. Not because of the distance (it was a 20 miler, but my third of this training season, so it felt surprisingly comfortable in that respect), but rather because of logistics. Steve and I were in Murphysboro, Illinois, my hometown, to retrieve Jack from my parents.

It's hard running in an unfamiliar setting, and I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to run 20 miles in Murphysboro - it's really small. The last time I tried was at Thanksgiving, when I decided to do an explore run, feeling flexible on the distance, but wanting to cover a decent chunk of mileage. I went all the way across town, through a park, and back to the house and discovered I'd only done a 5K.

My dad suggested that I go to Lake Murphysboro State Park, where there is a 4 mile loop that I could just do five times, "but it's hilly." I drove through it to see just how hilly it was. The park was beautiful - trees everywhere, glimpses of the lake... but it was so hilly that my Achilles tendons were like, "Lady, no. You've got to be kidding me." Okay, fine - but I'll be back there during my unofficial cross country season in the fall.

I decided to wing it, doing three six mile loops, with stops back at the house for water or Gatorade, then a two mile loop.

As I started the first loop, it became quickly evident that Murphysboro is not designed for runners. There were no sidewalks, and the shoulders weren't especially wide, either. I ran facing traffic and felt like I had to keep dodging pickup trucks. I ran on some random country roads, and it was really pretty - trees, little ponds, deer - and people who looked at me like I was crazy. Unfortunately, I also saw a lot of trash on the ground, including an empty case of beer next to a home pregnancy test box. Classy! I had to slightly modify my planned course when a bunch of dogs chased me.

Six miles down, and it was time for the second loop. I ran across town, then turned in a direction that I was hoping would lead me to some decent empty space. A few turns later, and I discovered myself under a huge blue sky, facing one of those Stealth Hills. The kind that is not steep, but is very, very long. I hit eight miles and noted my time for Nancy's Olympic Challenge - 1:25:33. I ended up at Lake Murphysboro, where I saw the only other runners I encountered the entire time I was out. They gave me a look of started recognition, as I suspect they weren't used to seeing other runners out and about. Oh, and trash report? Condom wrapper. I like to think that the people whose story began with the beer and home pregnancy test was concluded with that Durex wrapper, that they learned their lesson.

I hit Stealth Hill after Stealth Hill and comforted myself with the idea that the way back would be downhill. Turns out it wasn't - heading back, I saw another Stealth Hill. I told myself that if I hadn't noticed it sloping down, it shouldn't bother me sloping up.

As I ran back for a drink, an old man in a pickup truck called out his window to ask if he could run with me. "Sure," I said. "Come on out." Then he got a good look at the Ridiculously Short Shorts(tm) and said, "You sure look good out there." Still got it, baby! Sure, he was a semi-creepy old man, but I take what I can get.

It was time for the third loop, and my dad had suggested that I run to the high school, that it was about three miles away. Unfortunately, he miscalcuated - it was only two. I did my best to add some distance on by wandering around the athletic fields, but no such luck. I just wound up with a bunch of cut grass stuck on my legs.

I ran to a park for the final portion of my run, hit 20, and felt incredibly proud of myself for finishing it up despite the odds against me. I celebrated by diving into the swimming pool in my running clothes, which highly entertained Jack.

I may celebrate further by getting myself a present.

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.

The Accidental Brick

On Saturday, I believe I attained all of the qualifications needed for the title of Total Bad-Ass. Never mind that some of them I did unintentionally.

I began with a 20 mile training run, which included some delicious hills. It was once again so hot and humid that I was able to literally wring sweat out of my running skirt (sexy). I found out later that, despite working hard to stay hydrated, I lost four pounds in the process. Yikes.

At mile 18, I was near my mom's house. I have been enlisting her as course aid in these training runs, and as usual, she had a bottle of water waiting for me. Yay, Mom! I had the genius idea that I would finish up my run in her neighborhood. Then, she'd give me some kind of delicious post-run fruit, a glass of cold, cold water, lots of adoration and compliments, and a ride home - by way of Starbucks, where I'd get one of their new protein shakes.

The only problem with this great idea was that I didn't actually tell anyone about it in advance. Which meant that there was nobody home when I went knocking on the door looking for adoration, compliments, snacks, etc. I was about three miles away from home and in no mood to do any more running - or walking - if I could avoid it.

So, I went into their garage, grabbed my step-dad Doug's bike and helmet, happy to see that his water bottle was full. I found a piece of Jack's sidewalk chalk and wrote a quick note:

I took your bike. Thanks.
--B

Mom and Doug came home and thought their bike had been stolen by someone very polite. Then they figured out that B stood not for Burglar, but rather for Betsy.

I survived the experience and figured I did not need to do any cross-training on Sunday.

Bringing Sweaty Back

I woke up bright and surly on Saturday morning, hoping to get my 18 miler in before it got too hot and humid - and to leave plenty of time to shower before Jack's swimming lesson. I dosed myself liberally with Body Glide, hydrated well, and took off.

Three hours, 22 minutes later, it became apparent that really, there wasn't anything I could have done to avoid that humidity. My clothes were so soaked in sweat that I could literally wring them out. It looked like I'd been swimming, and my skirt clung to my legs. I had painful chafing on my chest and back from my sports bra and on my thigh from my (still awesome) new Amphipod.

This incredibly sexy result aside, it was a really good run and left me feeling strong. Even though I'm a member of Club 26.2, the fact that I can run 18 miles at all makes me really proud. I also did an experiment to see if I could keep up a solid average pace and still walk at water stops. When I was approaching my house and my mom's (my two designated places), I picked up the pace for about a 1/4 mile, stopped and walked while I drank and refueled, then picked up the pace again for that 1/4 mile back. My pace for the miles including breaks is definitely slower, but other splits are faster. I don't know; I think it works for me.

My focus has improved, too. I only took two walk breaks beyond those for water, one of which was because I gave myself a gigantic hill at mile 17. I definitely want to include some hills in my training, especially in anticipation of the Bix, but my marathon is not a hilly one, so there is no need for me to force myself to run hills while fatigued. When I do my next 20 miler on Sunday, that loop is going to be one of the first ones, not the last.

And now for those splits. The goal pace for this run was 10:46. Here's how I did:

Mile 1: 10:13
Mile 2: 10:24
Mile 3: 10:21
Mile 4: 10:31
Mile 5: 10:44
Mile 6: 10:24
Mile 7: 12:24 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 8: 10:24
Mile 9: 10:07
Mile 10: 11:55 (walk/water/Sport Bean break)
Mile 11: 10:48
Mile 12: 10:54
Mile 13: 13:09 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 14: 10:37
Mile 15: 10:51
Mile 16: 10:46
Mile 17: 13:30 (the aforementioned hill)
Mile 18: 11:08