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.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
I'm Going on a Long Run
Lately, the song "Going on a Bear Hunt" has been running through my head... but with some slightly different words. Sing it with me!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a swamp-uh!
Can't go over it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go through it!
I did indeed encounter a swamp on a recent long run. I was out with my running club a few days after a rain that would best be described as "monsoon-like." The path was still covered with puddles, patches of mud, and so on. The miles flew by as I'd come across a new obstacle and decide if the mud/water/gunk was too deep to run through.
One of the times I decided that it was too deep, I veered to the right hand side of the path. The other runners had the opposite instinct and went left.
I chose wrong.
Within seconds, I was sloshing through swampy long grass, soaking my feet up to my ankles, and giving my three-day old running shoes (Brooks Adrenaline, btw) some character. Everyone had a good laugh.
I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a hill-uh!
Can't go through it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go up it!
For this week's long run, we started at a different park than usual. My fellow
Then I remembered that in order to get back to our picnic shelter, my car, and my Oxysox, I would have to go up a gigantic hill.
I'd given those 10 miles everything I had, and Internet, my calves were burning. Still, I thought about the popsicles and watermelon that were waiting for me, and I climbed that hill.
As runners, we learn to meet obstacles head-on. We learn how strong we are, and we learn that when something daunting is ahead of us, we can confidentlly say, "I'm not afraid!"
Friday, July 17, 2009
Babyproof No More
As soon as Jack was even thinking about being mobile, Steve and I babyproofed the utter hell out of our house. Every stairway had a gate on it. Every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was locked. Plug-ins had covers on them, and I bought a cover to keep him from turning off the computer. We even had locks on the toilets to keep him from chucking stuff into them.
When we left our house in Virginia and moved into Stately Wasser Manor, he was two years old and a lot more steady on his feet. We got rid of the gates on the stairs, the locks on the drawers and cabinets, and the plug covers.
But we did keep all of our cleaning products way up high in the pantry. If I needed to run the dishwasher (which it seems like I do every day, rolling that rock up the hill), I have to walk to the pantry to get it, then put it back away again.
This morning, it occurred to me that was unnecessary. I moved all of the kitchen cleaning products to under the sink, where nature intended them to be. This time, my childproofing consisted of a single conversation.
Me: Hey, Jack! See this stuff here?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Leave it alone.
Jack: Of course.
I have felt this many times over the past four and a half years, but Jack really seems to be at an ideal age. He's little and cute and charming, but he can also be quite reasonable.
When we left our house in Virginia and moved into Stately Wasser Manor, he was two years old and a lot more steady on his feet. We got rid of the gates on the stairs, the locks on the drawers and cabinets, and the plug covers.
But we did keep all of our cleaning products way up high in the pantry. If I needed to run the dishwasher (which it seems like I do every day, rolling that rock up the hill), I have to walk to the pantry to get it, then put it back away again.
This morning, it occurred to me that was unnecessary. I moved all of the kitchen cleaning products to under the sink, where nature intended them to be. This time, my childproofing consisted of a single conversation.
Me: Hey, Jack! See this stuff here?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Leave it alone.
Jack: Of course.
I have felt this many times over the past four and a half years, but Jack really seems to be at an ideal age. He's little and cute and charming, but he can also be quite reasonable.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
The F-Word
Take It and Run Thursday challenges us this week to write about something controversial in the running world. To that I say fine, but just remember it was your idea, because today, I'm going to use The F-Word, a word that running bloggers everywhere are afraid to use. In a few minutes, this post is going to be riddled with F-bombs. You have been warned. Here it is:
Fast.
That's right, I said it: Fast.
It's just a little word, right? So why are so many of my fellow runners afraid to use it to describe themselves?
I have read many race reports about new PR's, the really great kind that smashed the previous best... without a single use of the F-Word. Descriptions of blistering track workouts, pounding out 400 meter repeats... without anyone so much as whispering F-A-S-T. I've even seen truly talented runners demur from using that word to describe races where they've placed or even won. The closest thing you'll hear is, "I finished with a really good time."
You didn't finish with a really good time, my friend. You were FAST! The fact of the matter is, there are a lot of runners out in the blogosphere who are extremely fast runners and just won't admit it. I read several race reports from the Boston Marathon in which the blogger noted that they'd never felt so middle of the pack as they did in Boston. Okay, so maybe you weren't in that lead pack in Boston, but if you were running the Boston Marathon at all? Let's face it: You. Are. Fast.
Is it modesty? It's true that runners are really nice and inclusive people. If I brag about how fast my 23:44 5K race was, I don't want to discount the accomplishment of a fellow runner who worked just as hard to finish in 30:00. Or, are we comparing ourselves to elite runners? Tirunesh Dibaba of Ethiopia is the fastest woman to run a 5K, and her time of 14:11:15 makes my 23:44 look like walking. Can I really call myself fast compared to her?
Yes. I am fast. And so is Tirunesh Dibaba, so are the Boston qualifiers, and so is my fellow runner who worked her butt of to score that 30:00 5K.
We all have our own Fast. Fast happens for all of us when everything clicks together just right, when we feel like we're flying, when our lungs are burning, and when we look at the time on the clock (or just the feeling in our hearts) and it is good.
I challenge you, my fellow runners, to own your Fast. To embrace the F-Word. And to shout from the rooftops when you have an amazing workout, run a strong race, or get a PR these words:
I am fast.
Fast.
That's right, I said it: Fast.
It's just a little word, right? So why are so many of my fellow runners afraid to use it to describe themselves?
I have read many race reports about new PR's, the really great kind that smashed the previous best... without a single use of the F-Word. Descriptions of blistering track workouts, pounding out 400 meter repeats... without anyone so much as whispering F-A-S-T. I've even seen truly talented runners demur from using that word to describe races where they've placed or even won. The closest thing you'll hear is, "I finished with a really good time."
You didn't finish with a really good time, my friend. You were FAST! The fact of the matter is, there are a lot of runners out in the blogosphere who are extremely fast runners and just won't admit it. I read several race reports from the Boston Marathon in which the blogger noted that they'd never felt so middle of the pack as they did in Boston. Okay, so maybe you weren't in that lead pack in Boston, but if you were running the Boston Marathon at all? Let's face it: You. Are. Fast.
Is it modesty? It's true that runners are really nice and inclusive people. If I brag about how fast my 23:44 5K race was, I don't want to discount the accomplishment of a fellow runner who worked just as hard to finish in 30:00. Or, are we comparing ourselves to elite runners? Tirunesh Dibaba of Ethiopia is the fastest woman to run a 5K, and her time of 14:11:15 makes my 23:44 look like walking. Can I really call myself fast compared to her?
Yes. I am fast. And so is Tirunesh Dibaba, so are the Boston qualifiers, and so is my fellow runner who worked her butt of to score that 30:00 5K.
We all have our own Fast. Fast happens for all of us when everything clicks together just right, when we feel like we're flying, when our lungs are burning, and when we look at the time on the clock (or just the feeling in our hearts) and it is good.
I challenge you, my fellow runners, to own your Fast. To embrace the F-Word. And to shout from the rooftops when you have an amazing workout, run a strong race, or get a PR these words:
I am fast.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Race Report: Surprise Track Meet
Last night, I went to the track at Augustana College for my running club's weekly track workout. To my surprise, there was a track meet going on. People were setting up hurdles, pole vaulters were warming up, and the place was teeming with people of all ages in brightly colored running clothes. Just as I was starting to think that my plans to run on the track with the club had changed, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: Cornbelt Runners, go find Russ. He'll give you your bib number.
Well, allrighty, then.
I tracked down Russ, who is our coach, and several other runners trickled in with me. "Russ, what do you have cooked up for us?" I asked. Russ grinned and said that we were going to run in the 1500 meter race.
I have to admit, one of the first things I thought was, "If I'd known I was running a race, I'd have worn something different." My black running skirt and neon yellow marathon training group just isn't the fastest looking outfit I have. But so be it, because my second thought was, "Hey, all I have to run is a 1500? Nice!"
I warmed up and chatted with my fellow runners. Several of them had never run a race so short and had never run a track meet at all, so the excitement and nerves were high. Before I knew it, it was time for the 1500. All of the Cornbelt Running Club runners walked over to the starting line - and there were a lot of us! They had the women go first, followed by the men. And we women were joined by several kids.
Now, I have learned my lesson about kids at track meets. I ran against several of them at
an indoor meet in January, and they are freaking fast. I immediately decided to just discount the kids and focus on running against the grown-ups. We women rationalize that it was okay if the kids beat us because, um, they didn't have to work all day.
The gun was off, and so was I - probably way too fast. I glanced down at Paula The Garmin in the first 200 meters or so and saw that my pace was at a 5:something mile. I resolved to relax. Before long, there were a couple kids in front of me (ignored the little scamps), along with Kathy, who I know is one of the best runners in the area. I figured I'd have no chance of catching up to her, and sure enough, I think she ended up finishing about 150 meters ahead of me.
At around the second lap, a younger woman passed me as well. I focused on running strong, keeping my arms relaxed, and making a game of pretending to be the main character from Once A Runner, out running the mile of my life.
In the final straightaway, I picked up my pace and shaved quite a lot off of my time by chasing after one of those young whippersnappers. No, I didn't actually catch him, but again, kids are fast.
My final (unofficial, Paula Garmin) time was a speedy 6:11, putting me as the third grown-up to finish the race, and probably first in my age group if I'm right about the ages of the other two women.
I spent the rest of the night on an absolute runner's high. I hung out and watched the guys run, then headed home. As I was pulling up to Stately Wasser Manor, I saw Steve out for a run, so I parked the car and joined him for a Gentleman's Three, a great opportunity to cool down and tell him all about the race.
Well, allrighty, then.
I tracked down Russ, who is our coach, and several other runners trickled in with me. "Russ, what do you have cooked up for us?" I asked. Russ grinned and said that we were going to run in the 1500 meter race.
I have to admit, one of the first things I thought was, "If I'd known I was running a race, I'd have worn something different." My black running skirt and neon yellow marathon training group just isn't the fastest looking outfit I have. But so be it, because my second thought was, "Hey, all I have to run is a 1500? Nice!"
I warmed up and chatted with my fellow runners. Several of them had never run a race so short and had never run a track meet at all, so the excitement and nerves were high. Before I knew it, it was time for the 1500. All of the Cornbelt Running Club runners walked over to the starting line - and there were a lot of us! They had the women go first, followed by the men. And we women were joined by several kids.
Now, I have learned my lesson about kids at track meets. I ran against several of them at
an indoor meet in January, and they are freaking fast. I immediately decided to just discount the kids and focus on running against the grown-ups. We women rationalize that it was okay if the kids beat us because, um, they didn't have to work all day.
The gun was off, and so was I - probably way too fast. I glanced down at Paula The Garmin in the first 200 meters or so and saw that my pace was at a 5:something mile. I resolved to relax. Before long, there were a couple kids in front of me (ignored the little scamps), along with Kathy, who I know is one of the best runners in the area. I figured I'd have no chance of catching up to her, and sure enough, I think she ended up finishing about 150 meters ahead of me.
At around the second lap, a younger woman passed me as well. I focused on running strong, keeping my arms relaxed, and making a game of pretending to be the main character from Once A Runner, out running the mile of my life.
In the final straightaway, I picked up my pace and shaved quite a lot off of my time by chasing after one of those young whippersnappers. No, I didn't actually catch him, but again, kids are fast.
My final (unofficial, Paula Garmin) time was a speedy 6:11, putting me as the third grown-up to finish the race, and probably first in my age group if I'm right about the ages of the other two women.
I spent the rest of the night on an absolute runner's high. I hung out and watched the guys run, then headed home. As I was pulling up to Stately Wasser Manor, I saw Steve out for a run, so I parked the car and joined him for a Gentleman's Three, a great opportunity to cool down and tell him all about the race.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Lonely Too Long
For a long time, I've really preferred to run alone. That's still true - the solitude and silence can be absolutely great. But at the same time, I really want to get more involved in my local running community. I want to know my fellow runners and be able to chat with people I see at races - that was one of my 2009 goals. So, when the opportunity to join a training group for the Quad Cities Distance Classic half marathon trisko, I decided to go for it.
Turns out, running with a group is fun... and doesn't cramp my style at all. There are cool people to hang out and talk with before we hit the trails. I usually end up running by myself, but I can join someone else if I want to.
So, when the opportunity presented itself through my running club to train for fall races, I jumped on it. For fifty bucks, I get supported group runs every week, coaching, access to weekly track workouts, a discount for the Quad Cities Marathon or trisko, a pasta party, and a t-shirt. Sold!
The group has been wildly popular. There are 120 people signed up right now to train for fall marathons and triskos. Last Tuesday, I went to my first group track workout and saw that about a hundred people showed up. One hundred people, willing to do speedwork on a sweltering hot Tuesday night! I am so proud of my running club.
Turns out, running with a group is fun... and doesn't cramp my style at all. There are cool people to hang out and talk with before we hit the trails. I usually end up running by myself, but I can join someone else if I want to.
So, when the opportunity presented itself through my running club to train for fall races, I jumped on it. For fifty bucks, I get supported group runs every week, coaching, access to weekly track workouts, a discount for the Quad Cities Marathon or trisko, a pasta party, and a t-shirt. Sold!
The group has been wildly popular. There are 120 people signed up right now to train for fall marathons and triskos. Last Tuesday, I went to my first group track workout and saw that about a hundred people showed up. One hundred people, willing to do speedwork on a sweltering hot Tuesday night! I am so proud of my running club.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Tremmy
Jack likes to play a game in the car in which his various stuffed animals call him on the phone. Emmy will call to make sure he's not doing anything dangerous (which is a problem because Emmy tends to think just about everything is dangerous), or Roary will call to say he misses him and to ask when he's coming home.
One day, Jack mixed it up by getting a phone call from "Tremmy." We told Tremmy she had the wrong number, but she kept on calling back, Jack laughing progressively harder every time. Tremmy started calling us more and more often. The phone calls would go like this...
Jack: Ring, ring!
Me: Oh, no. That's going to be Tremmy.
Jack: (giggling)
Me: Hello?
Tremmy (aka Jack): Tremmy!
Me: Hi, Tremmy.
Tremmy: I am just calling to say that I have a big bag of mice.
Me: Oh, no. Tremmy, what could you possibly be doing with all of those mice?
Tremmy: I'm going to throw them at every light in the city!
Steve and I started to wonder more about Tremmy, so when she called, we asked her what kind of animal she was. Jack/Tremmy told us that she was a bird. That sounded about right to us, some kind of crazy looking bird.
So, imagine our surprise when we were at the mall and saw this crazy-looking bird:
It could only be Tremmy.
Tremmy lives with us now, but that doesn't stop her from calling us with crazy news, such as that she smeared all of the toothpaste on the windows and was throwing mice at it to see if they'd stick (Tremmy says they do not).
I am really proud of Jack's amazing imagination and sense of humor. Only Jack could invent a crazy bird who spends too much time on the phone and does weird things to mice.
What else is Jack doing? Oh, being a kid. See?
Like, eating only the middle of his Oreos.
And running through the sprinklers.
It's good to be a kid.
One day, Jack mixed it up by getting a phone call from "Tremmy." We told Tremmy she had the wrong number, but she kept on calling back, Jack laughing progressively harder every time. Tremmy started calling us more and more often. The phone calls would go like this...
Jack: Ring, ring!
Me: Oh, no. That's going to be Tremmy.
Jack: (giggling)
Me: Hello?
Tremmy (aka Jack): Tremmy!
Me: Hi, Tremmy.
Tremmy: I am just calling to say that I have a big bag of mice.
Me: Oh, no. Tremmy, what could you possibly be doing with all of those mice?
Tremmy: I'm going to throw them at every light in the city!
Steve and I started to wonder more about Tremmy, so when she called, we asked her what kind of animal she was. Jack/Tremmy told us that she was a bird. That sounded about right to us, some kind of crazy looking bird.
So, imagine our surprise when we were at the mall and saw this crazy-looking bird:
It could only be Tremmy.
Tremmy lives with us now, but that doesn't stop her from calling us with crazy news, such as that she smeared all of the toothpaste on the windows and was throwing mice at it to see if they'd stick (Tremmy says they do not).
I am really proud of Jack's amazing imagination and sense of humor. Only Jack could invent a crazy bird who spends too much time on the phone and does weird things to mice.
What else is Jack doing? Oh, being a kid. See?
Like, eating only the middle of his Oreos.
And running through the sprinklers.
It's good to be a kid.
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.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Race Report: 13.1 Chicago
When we last left off, I had a bag of frozen peas tied to my ankle and was trying not to freak out about an injury that could make running 13.1 miles tricky to say the least. I am happy to report that the peas and their ally the Advil did their job: by Saturday morning, my ankle was no longer bothering me.
Steve, Jack, and I left Saturday morning for Chicago. It was a lot of fun taking Jack to a big city for the first time. He found absolutely everything fascinating: the tall buildings, the pigeons, and all of the people. He also noted, "Chicago is noisy," which was especially true since we were near El tracks most of the time. There were also several firsts for Jack - his first ride in a taxi - with no car seat - and his first ride on a Ferris wheel. He seemed to find them equally thrilling.
There are, of course, lots of things to see and do in Chicago, but we decided to keep it simple. We went to Navy Pier to ride the aforementioned Ferris wheel, then went to the Chicago Children's Museum. The museum was a lot of fun, with many the opportunity for Jack to put on costumes, play music, and so on. The best part was a huge net that he climbed way up and around, like a pirate's ship. Jack pretty much did that over and over again until the museum closed. Jack spotted a pirate show on a stage nearby, so we watched that, then had pasta for dinner. On the way back to the hotel, we took a quick detour to the toy department at the old Marshall Field's store (which I hate to acknowledge as a Macy's), where he selected a cat. Jack introduced Kitty Kit to Vincent, the doorman at the hotel, then we headed to bed at the ripe old hour of 8:30.
Naturally, it was onlhy too soon that my alarm went off at 5:00. I had my clothes laid out in the bathroom so I was able to quickly get dressed and head out. I ignored sage advice and wore a new outfit for the race: a bright pink Asics singlet with a black and grey Race Ready skirt. I highly recommend the Race Ready skirt. All along the small of my back were mesh pockets, with elastic holdin git in almost bungee style. I was able to easily carry my iPod, phone, a couple packs of Biofreeze (I was still worried about my ankle), emergency cash, and two packs of sport beans. It was also really easy to get things in and out of the pockets. I'll definitely be buying the skirt in more colors.
Chicago at 5:00 in the morning on a Sunday is virtually desserted. I walked out of the hotel and didn't see another person for a few minutes. Then, I saw groups of runners all headed towards Millenium Park, ready to catch the shuttle buses to the start. The bus service was smooth and easy - very well organized.
We arrived at the South Shore Cultural Center, a lovely building where the Obamas had their wedding reception (Steve noted that it probably didn't smell like sweat that day). It was then that I discovered a crisis: there was no coffee anywhere near by. The Starbucks near my hotel was not open yet, and there was absolutely nothing near the starting line. No caffiene is not a good thing for me. My coffee addiction is a bit like heroin addiction in that the first hit isn't so much to make me feel good as it is to keep me from feeling bad. I ate my second emergency pack of sport beans, figuring at least that would get some caffiene in my system.
The energy at the starting line was terrific. Rob Powers did the announcing, the White Sox mascot was wandering around, as were actors playing the Blues Brothers. The start was organized in waves, which was a first for me. Each wave got its own pomp (music that introduced the Blues Brothers in the movie), and there was ample space between each wave so that the paths were never crowded. It was terrific, and more races should do this.
The course itself was spectacular. It was an absolute thrill to run alongside Lake Michigan with a view of the Chicago skyline. Support was impressive, with water and Gatorade available approximately every mile. I also saw lots of Brightroom photographers, so here's hoping that there will be some good pictures of me.
And how'd I do? Well, for the first 11 miles, I felt awesome. Then I started to fade. I'm not sure why. I'd like to blame the lack of coffee, but it may just be that I wasn't quite as focused and mentally strong as I was when I ran the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Nevertheless, I kicked it up a notch, waved to Steve and Jack, and finished strong with a final time of 2:00:56.
The finisher's medal is the most gigantic thing you ever saw. It's a 13.1 (with the decimal point actually spin-able), easily twice as big as any of my other medals, and in gold. I feel like a rapper in it.
It was a spectacular way to end my spring Trisko Festival. When it was all said and done, I ran threehalf marathons triskos in just under a month - and had a blast doing it.
Steve, Jack, and I left Saturday morning for Chicago. It was a lot of fun taking Jack to a big city for the first time. He found absolutely everything fascinating: the tall buildings, the pigeons, and all of the people. He also noted, "Chicago is noisy," which was especially true since we were near El tracks most of the time. There were also several firsts for Jack - his first ride in a taxi - with no car seat - and his first ride on a Ferris wheel. He seemed to find them equally thrilling.
There are, of course, lots of things to see and do in Chicago, but we decided to keep it simple. We went to Navy Pier to ride the aforementioned Ferris wheel, then went to the Chicago Children's Museum. The museum was a lot of fun, with many the opportunity for Jack to put on costumes, play music, and so on. The best part was a huge net that he climbed way up and around, like a pirate's ship. Jack pretty much did that over and over again until the museum closed. Jack spotted a pirate show on a stage nearby, so we watched that, then had pasta for dinner. On the way back to the hotel, we took a quick detour to the toy department at the old Marshall Field's store (which I hate to acknowledge as a Macy's), where he selected a cat. Jack introduced Kitty Kit to Vincent, the doorman at the hotel, then we headed to bed at the ripe old hour of 8:30.
Naturally, it was onlhy too soon that my alarm went off at 5:00. I had my clothes laid out in the bathroom so I was able to quickly get dressed and head out. I ignored sage advice and wore a new outfit for the race: a bright pink Asics singlet with a black and grey Race Ready skirt. I highly recommend the Race Ready skirt. All along the small of my back were mesh pockets, with elastic holdin git in almost bungee style. I was able to easily carry my iPod, phone, a couple packs of Biofreeze (I was still worried about my ankle), emergency cash, and two packs of sport beans. It was also really easy to get things in and out of the pockets. I'll definitely be buying the skirt in more colors.
Chicago at 5:00 in the morning on a Sunday is virtually desserted. I walked out of the hotel and didn't see another person for a few minutes. Then, I saw groups of runners all headed towards Millenium Park, ready to catch the shuttle buses to the start. The bus service was smooth and easy - very well organized.
We arrived at the South Shore Cultural Center, a lovely building where the Obamas had their wedding reception (Steve noted that it probably didn't smell like sweat that day). It was then that I discovered a crisis: there was no coffee anywhere near by. The Starbucks near my hotel was not open yet, and there was absolutely nothing near the starting line. No caffiene is not a good thing for me. My coffee addiction is a bit like heroin addiction in that the first hit isn't so much to make me feel good as it is to keep me from feeling bad. I ate my second emergency pack of sport beans, figuring at least that would get some caffiene in my system.
The energy at the starting line was terrific. Rob Powers did the announcing, the White Sox mascot was wandering around, as were actors playing the Blues Brothers. The start was organized in waves, which was a first for me. Each wave got its own pomp (music that introduced the Blues Brothers in the movie), and there was ample space between each wave so that the paths were never crowded. It was terrific, and more races should do this.
The course itself was spectacular. It was an absolute thrill to run alongside Lake Michigan with a view of the Chicago skyline. Support was impressive, with water and Gatorade available approximately every mile. I also saw lots of Brightroom photographers, so here's hoping that there will be some good pictures of me.
And how'd I do? Well, for the first 11 miles, I felt awesome. Then I started to fade. I'm not sure why. I'd like to blame the lack of coffee, but it may just be that I wasn't quite as focused and mentally strong as I was when I ran the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Nevertheless, I kicked it up a notch, waved to Steve and Jack, and finished strong with a final time of 2:00:56.
The finisher's medal is the most gigantic thing you ever saw. It's a 13.1 (with the decimal point actually spin-able), easily twice as big as any of my other medals, and in gold. I feel like a rapper in it.
It was a spectacular way to end my spring Trisko Festival. When it was all said and done, I ran three
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Give Peas a Chance
Bad news, Internet: I am writing to you with a bag of frozen peas tied to my ankle.
Non-runners may think that this is a curious fashion statement, but runners will immediately know that this means that I have somehow injured my Achilles tendon. And since I have ahalf marathon trisko on Sunday (13.1 Chicago), this is a very bad development.
I felt a teeny bit of discomfort after my 10 miler on Sunday, but nothing to write home about. Then yesterday I set out to run a fast 3 and it started to really bother me.
The plan, between now and Sunday, is to baby it. I'm going to tie on the peas (not a euphemism) three or so times a day, take Advil every 4 hours, avoid high heels, and rest up.
Everybody think healing thoughts for me!
Non-runners may think that this is a curious fashion statement, but runners will immediately know that this means that I have somehow injured my Achilles tendon. And since I have a
I felt a teeny bit of discomfort after my 10 miler on Sunday, but nothing to write home about. Then yesterday I set out to run a fast 3 and it started to really bother me.
The plan, between now and Sunday, is to baby it. I'm going to tie on the peas (not a euphemism) three or so times a day, take Advil every 4 hours, avoid high heels, and rest up.
Everybody think healing thoughts for me!
Monday, June 01, 2009
Happy Birthday, Roary!
Another year has passed since Roary went from being a random cat/tiger sitting on our coffee table to becoming Jack's steadfast companion. Things have changed a little bit for Roary since his last birthday. The biggest change is that he now has an entire family of tigers living with us - Emmy, Garfield, Nicey, and Cutie. Roary shares Jack's affections with all of them, and an extended family of "stuffed guys." Jack's divided attention hasn't meant less love for Roary, though. Jack loves all of his animals, but Roary remains the king, the one Jack always comes to when he most needs comfort. If anything, Jack's love has grown bigger.
When Jack is sad or hurt, he looks to Roary for a tail rub (and in fact inspects most other stuffed animals for tail rubbing possibilities before buying them). And if Jack sees that someone else needs comfort, Roary offers tail rubs to them, too.
I know that many people will think I'm a little nutty for celebrating a stuffed animal's birthday, but Roary is truly a valuable part of our team. I know that the two of them crack each other up. I know that I can count on Roary to entertain Jack during long car rides. I know that the two of them even argue sometimes, as evidenced by Jack putting Roary in "time out" outside his room because "Roary would not stop talking and I needed to go to sleep." I know that when Jack needs extra love, Roary is there for him. Every time I go away on a work trip, I give Roary extra kisses before I leave. I know that they'll get to Jack when he needs them.
Happy birthday, Roary, the best tiger a kid ever had.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
It's Good to Be Back
As much as I try to be flexible, life can get in the way of running sometimes. This week was especially tough. I wanted to take a few days off after my half marathon trisko. Then I had some busy work days. Then Jack wasn't feeling well. Things kept piling on, and it wasn't until Saturday that I was able to get a run in.
Not running is really bad for my brain. Things were stressful at work, but I know they effected me more than usual. When I started to dream about checking emails from my phone, I knew the crazy was out of control.
On Saturday, I ran a relaxed five miles, It felt fantastic. Today was even better. I got up early and ran ten miles at trisko pace + 20 seconds. I ran from Moline to Rock Island, then across the Mississippi River into Davenport. Then I passed the baseball park and ran along the river to cross at the Arsenal Island bridge. I ended with a challenging run through the campus of Augustana College. It's one of my favorite courses. I felt really fortunate to be able to run in such amazing places.
More importantly, I think my head is back where I need it to be. I feel ready to go back to work tomorrow and am confident I can handle what's thrown at me.
Not running is really bad for my brain. Things were stressful at work, but I know they effected me more than usual. When I started to dream about checking emails from my phone, I knew the crazy was out of control.
On Saturday, I ran a relaxed five miles, It felt fantastic. Today was even better. I got up early and ran ten miles at trisko pace + 20 seconds. I ran from Moline to Rock Island, then across the Mississippi River into Davenport. Then I passed the baseball park and ran along the river to cross at the Arsenal Island bridge. I ended with a challenging run through the campus of Augustana College. It's one of my favorite courses. I felt really fortunate to be able to run in such amazing places.
More importantly, I think my head is back where I need it to be. I feel ready to go back to work tomorrow and am confident I can handle what's thrown at me.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Race Report: Madison Half Marathon
The night before the Madison half marathon trisko, my cousin Michael's wife Ana (who is Italian and thus a fantastic person to have nearby the night before a race) asked a simple question:
"Why would anyone want to run a marathon or half marathon?"
My brother, running the full, gave the Everest answer - "Because it's there." I expanded on that, saying that a huge part of the appeal of running a long distance race is that it's really hard to do. It's challenging to train for it, and it's even more challenging to complete it. That challenge gives you a tremendous sense of accomplishment that we don't get to experience in our normal day-to-day lives. Andy agreed and said that it feels amazing when you finish, and the beer you drink after a marathon is the greatest one you've ever had.
Little did we know that struggle and challenge would be so much on our minds the next day.
As always, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It had been a challenging couple of weeks. Solid travel for work meant lots of time way from Steve and Jack. Steve had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I decided Madison could be a Mommy-Son roadtrip. It was also a chance to spend some time with some of my favorite family members - my brother, my aunt and uncle, and three of my cousins. In between, I'd throw in a half marathon. Really, what could go wrong?
Andy and I hit the Expo, and I showed tremendous restraint, buying just a new hat with the race logo on it. They also had t-shirts that proclaimed, "Will run for beer, cheese, and brats," and I don't know how Andy resisted the "26.2 Miles? You Betcha!" shirt. In the brief time we were there, Jack convinced my Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Chuck to take him to the brat festival, where he won a stuffed dolphin and three snakes. Good thing, since I think he only brought about 20 stuffed animals from home.
Back at the house, the Italian relatives cooked a huge feast of pasta and bread. It was completely fabulous. It being Wisconsin, there was also a lot of cheese. Excellent.
Jack and I decided to share a bed, which meant about a hundred years of him playing with my hair, having various tigers kiss me goodnight, and me saying over and over, "Quit kicking your legs or I swear, I will make you sleep on the floor." He finally conked out, leaving me to sleep, then wake up at 12:30, 4:00, and finally 5:00 when it was time to get up. Not good.
After bagels and coffee, Uncle Chuck drove Andy and me to the starting line, explaining that we shouldn't have to deal with parking. We did some people watching, enjoyed some pre-race nervous peeing, and I finally bid Andy goodbye to take to the starting line. Madison is an unusual race in that the half starts before the full marathon. It's really a good thing, as it's best to just stay out of each other's hair.
The starting line was really crowded. I actually wasn't able to fit on the pavement and just stood in the dirt and funneled through when the gun went off. No big deal, since it was chip-timed, but I wonder if they'll change that in future yeas.
I ran the first few miles near the 2:00 pacer, figuring I'd run there for a while, then pick it up in the final miles. That was not meant to be. At mile 4, I felt incredibly tired. And not tired legs, my friends. Tired, like, I could take a nap on this comfy pavement tired. Two weeks of travel and poor sleep caught up to me. I felt lousy.
Then, I made a decision: if I wasn't going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time. I made an effort to take in the sights of the very pretty course - we ran past three different lakes, past the Badger football stadium, through lovely neighborhoods, and through University of Wisconsin's campus. The volunteers and spectators were all friendly. It was great.
I finished in 2:06, nine minutes slower than my PR, and one minute slower than my previous slowest time. But what are you going to do?
I met up with Phyllis, Chuck, and Jack so we could watch Andy run. At mile 18 or so, he looked pretty good. At mile 23, he looked okay, too. I ran with him for a few steps and told him where to meet us afterwards. He said he wasn't feeling great, thanks to the remains of a cold he was fighing. Then we headed to the finish line. I saw lots of people who had been running around where Andy was, and Jack and I had fun cheering for them. But no Andy. I was worried. I know that a lot can go wrong in just 3 miles.
But finally, he was there. I yelled, "Go, Andy! Don't let them run out of beer!" Jack chased after Andy and ran with him for a little while, which Andy later said actually helped him.
Chuck went to find Andy at the meeting spot and he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Jack and went to look for him. My fear, which I didn't share with anyone, was that he might be in the medical tent. Thank Yoda he was okay - my cell phone rang a minute later. It was my mom - Andy borrowed someone's cell phone and called her to tell me where he was. Andy explained that yes, I'd told him where to meet, but that in those last three miles it fell out of his brain. Totally understandable. He, too, was far beyond his goal time.
The good thing is, he kept it all in perspective, just as I was working to do. Sometimes, it's just not your day. Neither of us was racing under peak conditions.
And remember what I said before about part of the appeal of racing long distances being how hard it can be? Well, because it's hard, sometimes you're not going to succeed. If you hit your goal or set a PR every time you toe the line, then you're not setting tough enough goals. Finishing a race strong and getting a PR is an amazing feeling; I know since it happened to me just a few weeks ago. But the other side of the coin is real, too. There is some value, even some satisfaction that can come from working hard at something and not making the mark.
"Why would anyone want to run a marathon or half marathon?"
My brother, running the full, gave the Everest answer - "Because it's there." I expanded on that, saying that a huge part of the appeal of running a long distance race is that it's really hard to do. It's challenging to train for it, and it's even more challenging to complete it. That challenge gives you a tremendous sense of accomplishment that we don't get to experience in our normal day-to-day lives. Andy agreed and said that it feels amazing when you finish, and the beer you drink after a marathon is the greatest one you've ever had.
Little did we know that struggle and challenge would be so much on our minds the next day.
As always, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It had been a challenging couple of weeks. Solid travel for work meant lots of time way from Steve and Jack. Steve had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I decided Madison could be a Mommy-Son roadtrip. It was also a chance to spend some time with some of my favorite family members - my brother, my aunt and uncle, and three of my cousins. In between, I'd throw in a half marathon. Really, what could go wrong?
Andy and I hit the Expo, and I showed tremendous restraint, buying just a new hat with the race logo on it. They also had t-shirts that proclaimed, "Will run for beer, cheese, and brats," and I don't know how Andy resisted the "26.2 Miles? You Betcha!" shirt. In the brief time we were there, Jack convinced my Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Chuck to take him to the brat festival, where he won a stuffed dolphin and three snakes. Good thing, since I think he only brought about 20 stuffed animals from home.
Back at the house, the Italian relatives cooked a huge feast of pasta and bread. It was completely fabulous. It being Wisconsin, there was also a lot of cheese. Excellent.
Jack and I decided to share a bed, which meant about a hundred years of him playing with my hair, having various tigers kiss me goodnight, and me saying over and over, "Quit kicking your legs or I swear, I will make you sleep on the floor." He finally conked out, leaving me to sleep, then wake up at 12:30, 4:00, and finally 5:00 when it was time to get up. Not good.
After bagels and coffee, Uncle Chuck drove Andy and me to the starting line, explaining that we shouldn't have to deal with parking. We did some people watching, enjoyed some pre-race nervous peeing, and I finally bid Andy goodbye to take to the starting line. Madison is an unusual race in that the half starts before the full marathon. It's really a good thing, as it's best to just stay out of each other's hair.
The starting line was really crowded. I actually wasn't able to fit on the pavement and just stood in the dirt and funneled through when the gun went off. No big deal, since it was chip-timed, but I wonder if they'll change that in future yeas.
I ran the first few miles near the 2:00 pacer, figuring I'd run there for a while, then pick it up in the final miles. That was not meant to be. At mile 4, I felt incredibly tired. And not tired legs, my friends. Tired, like, I could take a nap on this comfy pavement tired. Two weeks of travel and poor sleep caught up to me. I felt lousy.
Then, I made a decision: if I wasn't going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time. I made an effort to take in the sights of the very pretty course - we ran past three different lakes, past the Badger football stadium, through lovely neighborhoods, and through University of Wisconsin's campus. The volunteers and spectators were all friendly. It was great.
I finished in 2:06, nine minutes slower than my PR, and one minute slower than my previous slowest time. But what are you going to do?
I met up with Phyllis, Chuck, and Jack so we could watch Andy run. At mile 18 or so, he looked pretty good. At mile 23, he looked okay, too. I ran with him for a few steps and told him where to meet us afterwards. He said he wasn't feeling great, thanks to the remains of a cold he was fighing. Then we headed to the finish line. I saw lots of people who had been running around where Andy was, and Jack and I had fun cheering for them. But no Andy. I was worried. I know that a lot can go wrong in just 3 miles.
But finally, he was there. I yelled, "Go, Andy! Don't let them run out of beer!" Jack chased after Andy and ran with him for a little while, which Andy later said actually helped him.
Chuck went to find Andy at the meeting spot and he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Jack and went to look for him. My fear, which I didn't share with anyone, was that he might be in the medical tent. Thank Yoda he was okay - my cell phone rang a minute later. It was my mom - Andy borrowed someone's cell phone and called her to tell me where he was. Andy explained that yes, I'd told him where to meet, but that in those last three miles it fell out of his brain. Totally understandable. He, too, was far beyond his goal time.
The good thing is, he kept it all in perspective, just as I was working to do. Sometimes, it's just not your day. Neither of us was racing under peak conditions.
And remember what I said before about part of the appeal of racing long distances being how hard it can be? Well, because it's hard, sometimes you're not going to succeed. If you hit your goal or set a PR every time you toe the line, then you're not setting tough enough goals. Finishing a race strong and getting a PR is an amazing feeling; I know since it happened to me just a few weeks ago. But the other side of the coin is real, too. There is some value, even some satisfaction that can come from working hard at something and not making the mark.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Race Report: Imagination Library 5K
One of the things that definitely rocks about running half marathons triskos is that I can easily work other races into my training - even into recovery. So, less than a week after my Total Trisko Triumph, I ran the Imagination Library 5K as a training run with Steve.
Steve, as faithful Coffee Betsy readers know, is training for the Bix 7 with the admirable goal of not feeling like he is going to die when it's over. I'm scheduling some 5K races not so much for speedwork, but more to make things fun. I decided we should run together, partly so I'd remember to keep my pace slow enough for a recovery run, partly because Steve is fun to hang out with.
When we arrived at the starting line, I was a little bit bummed that I wasn't truly racing it. The weather was kind of lousy - cold and really windy, which made for a poor turnout. A 5K with a poor turnout is totally in my wheelhouse, and looking at the times for my age group, I probably would have finished second. But no matter - the point was to have fun, and that we did.
The race started at a park by the Mississippi River, then followed the bike/running path at a simple out and back. It turns out it's a good thing there weren't many people there, because things were getting mighty crowded in the middle of the pack where we were hanging. I wonder if they will have to alter the course in the future.
It was great to be able to go for a run with Steve, something we used to do together a lot, but haven't done much in a long time. It was especially well timed because I'd just returned from a three-day work trip in Charlotte and was gearing up for a week of more trips. A 5K may not provide a lot of time for us to just hang out together, but it was a nice start.
We hit the three mile mark, and my mom and Jack were there cheering for us like crazy. We waved Jack over so he could finish the race with us, and that thrilled him. The three of us crossed the line together holding hands.
The thing that surprised me the most about the race was that it was swag-tastic. We got the typical cotton t-shirts, which featured a cute picture of a running book, but our goodie bags also included Cliff or Luna bars, coupons for free Chick-Fil-A sandwiches, and best of all free tickets to go to a Quad City River Bandits baseball game! They even had finisher's medals, and the volunteer was kind enough to give one to Jack even though he'd run bandit - they must have had plenty. After the race, there were more Cliff and Luna bars, bottles of water with BioFreeze samples tied to them, and all kinds of food. They also had bounce castles and were getting ready to set up craft tables and face painting. I felt bad for the organizers because the weather was so lousy that people didn't really stick around afterwards like they would have. I hope they try again next year and have better weather. I'll be there for sure.
Steve, as faithful Coffee Betsy readers know, is training for the Bix 7 with the admirable goal of not feeling like he is going to die when it's over. I'm scheduling some 5K races not so much for speedwork, but more to make things fun. I decided we should run together, partly so I'd remember to keep my pace slow enough for a recovery run, partly because Steve is fun to hang out with.
When we arrived at the starting line, I was a little bit bummed that I wasn't truly racing it. The weather was kind of lousy - cold and really windy, which made for a poor turnout. A 5K with a poor turnout is totally in my wheelhouse, and looking at the times for my age group, I probably would have finished second. But no matter - the point was to have fun, and that we did.
The race started at a park by the Mississippi River, then followed the bike/running path at a simple out and back. It turns out it's a good thing there weren't many people there, because things were getting mighty crowded in the middle of the pack where we were hanging. I wonder if they will have to alter the course in the future.
It was great to be able to go for a run with Steve, something we used to do together a lot, but haven't done much in a long time. It was especially well timed because I'd just returned from a three-day work trip in Charlotte and was gearing up for a week of more trips. A 5K may not provide a lot of time for us to just hang out together, but it was a nice start.
We hit the three mile mark, and my mom and Jack were there cheering for us like crazy. We waved Jack over so he could finish the race with us, and that thrilled him. The three of us crossed the line together holding hands.
The thing that surprised me the most about the race was that it was swag-tastic. We got the typical cotton t-shirts, which featured a cute picture of a running book, but our goodie bags also included Cliff or Luna bars, coupons for free Chick-Fil-A sandwiches, and best of all free tickets to go to a Quad City River Bandits baseball game! They even had finisher's medals, and the volunteer was kind enough to give one to Jack even though he'd run bandit - they must have had plenty. After the race, there were more Cliff and Luna bars, bottles of water with BioFreeze samples tied to them, and all kinds of food. They also had bounce castles and were getting ready to set up craft tables and face painting. I felt bad for the organizers because the weather was so lousy that people didn't really stick around afterwards like they would have. I hope they try again next year and have better weather. I'll be there for sure.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Don't Mess With Dehydration
This week's Take It and Run Thursday is about gearing up for warm weather running. My advice on this subject is so simple that it is pretty well condensed just in my title. I am hoping that you will still continue to read.
Yes?
Good, thanks.
So, we have all read that drinking water/Gatorade/whatnot while running is important and that getting dehydrated is bad. It is such a simple concept that we haven't really absorbed it. Dehydration kind of doesn't seem like that big of a deal; I mean, it seems easily solved, doesn't it? Run in hot weather, get thirsty, drink water. Done and done!
But there's a little bit more to it than that. The thing is, we need to avoid getting to the point where dehydration is a problem to be solved. I think that the first step is to understand just how much water you can lose running in hot weather. Last summer, I ran a 20 mile training run. I started early in the morning, so it wasn't as hot as it could have been. As an experiment, I weighed myself before and after the run. I was shocked to discover that in the time I was out running, I lost about eight pounds.
Take a minute and think about that, and not about the fact that losing eight pounds in just a few hours without giving birth is a tiny bit awesome. Eight pounds is about a gallon, so picture the milk jug in your fridge and think about the fact that I sweated out that much water. I know, totally sexy, right? And totally disturbing to lose that much water weight.
In other fun anecdotal news, I was having some problems with cramping in my left calf a few weeks ago. The weird thing is that it wasn't necessarily happening when I was running - it'd cramp up if I was just watching TV or something. I mentioned this to one of my running buddies after a training run. "You could be dehydrated," he said.
Pfft. Yeah, right. No way was my very unique and weird cramping related to something as simple as dehydration. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to drink more water, so I did.
And you know what? It worked. No more cramping. Turns out it was not so unique after all.
Do I have you all sold that dehydration is no joke and that you should not mess with it? Good. The next step, especially when the weather gets hot, is to have a Hydration Strategy. It's going to take more than just a vague plan to drink water, people.
I've started taking my Batman Utility Belt by Fuel Belt with me on long runs. I really like knowing that I can grab a drink whenever I want to. I will probably invest in a couple more bottles so that if I need to, I can swing by home and reload. I also recommend enlisting aid from your loved ones. When I was running 20 milers in the heat last summer, I asked my mom to put out water for me. Not only did she put out gigantic bottles of water in her driveway, but she put ice in it. It was absolutely heavenly. Yay, Mom! And finally, it's smart to drink water throughout the day, so that you're not starting your run in a deficit situation.
Dehydration: It's no joke.
Yes?
Good, thanks.
So, we have all read that drinking water/Gatorade/whatnot while running is important and that getting dehydrated is bad. It is such a simple concept that we haven't really absorbed it. Dehydration kind of doesn't seem like that big of a deal; I mean, it seems easily solved, doesn't it? Run in hot weather, get thirsty, drink water. Done and done!
But there's a little bit more to it than that. The thing is, we need to avoid getting to the point where dehydration is a problem to be solved. I think that the first step is to understand just how much water you can lose running in hot weather. Last summer, I ran a 20 mile training run. I started early in the morning, so it wasn't as hot as it could have been. As an experiment, I weighed myself before and after the run. I was shocked to discover that in the time I was out running, I lost about eight pounds.
Take a minute and think about that, and not about the fact that losing eight pounds in just a few hours without giving birth is a tiny bit awesome. Eight pounds is about a gallon, so picture the milk jug in your fridge and think about the fact that I sweated out that much water. I know, totally sexy, right? And totally disturbing to lose that much water weight.
In other fun anecdotal news, I was having some problems with cramping in my left calf a few weeks ago. The weird thing is that it wasn't necessarily happening when I was running - it'd cramp up if I was just watching TV or something. I mentioned this to one of my running buddies after a training run. "You could be dehydrated," he said.
Pfft. Yeah, right. No way was my very unique and weird cramping related to something as simple as dehydration. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to drink more water, so I did.
And you know what? It worked. No more cramping. Turns out it was not so unique after all.
Do I have you all sold that dehydration is no joke and that you should not mess with it? Good. The next step, especially when the weather gets hot, is to have a Hydration Strategy. It's going to take more than just a vague plan to drink water, people.
I've started taking my Batman Utility Belt by Fuel Belt with me on long runs. I really like knowing that I can grab a drink whenever I want to. I will probably invest in a couple more bottles so that if I need to, I can swing by home and reload. I also recommend enlisting aid from your loved ones. When I was running 20 milers in the heat last summer, I asked my mom to put out water for me. Not only did she put out gigantic bottles of water in her driveway, but she put ice in it. It was absolutely heavenly. Yay, Mom! And finally, it's smart to drink water throughout the day, so that you're not starting your run in a deficit situation.
Dehydration: It's no joke.
Race Report: Quad Cities Distance Classic
I walked to the starting line of the Quad Cities Distance Classic half marathon trisko feeling more confident than I perhaps ever have for a race. I felt very prepared for the race. Not just because my training had gone well (though it did), but also because my training had become so important to me. In the months since I started training for this race, my life went through quite a lot of upheaval. I unexpectedly lost my job, went through the always trying period of a job search, and was lucky to find a new job quickly. Then I had to adjust to a new job that was challenging - and required quite a lot of travel. Training for this race was my constant, something that I could control. The fact that I kept training proved to me that the emotional horsepower to meet my goal.
Plus, there were the messages on my wrists. On my right wrist, I wore my Road ID. Inscribed on it is the mantra that I developed at this very race last year, running ahalf marathon trisko on Mother's Day in the pounding rain, sleet, and winds: ONE TOUGH MOTHER. On my left wrist was a reminder inspired by The Laminator and Frayed Laces: DDYA, which stands for Don't Deny Your Awesomeness. In the days leading up to the race, I would find myself with a stray negative thought, wondering if I could really meet my goal. So, I took a pen and wrote DDYA on my wrist as a reminder to put my thinking right. I rewrote it so many times that now, days after the race, a hint of blue ink still remains on my wrist.
In fact, the only concern I found when I reached the starting line was that, in a long sleeved shirt and tights, I was dressed more warmly than anyone else there. Was I overdressed? Was that a mistake? It was too late to fix it, so I hoped for the best.
My goal for this race was simple: 2:00 or less. My previous PR was 2:05, so it was ambitious, but I was confident I could do it.
And I tried a new strategy for this race, a strategy that I like to call "Running Smart." This offers a sharp contrast from my previous strategies of "Just Start Running And See What Happens" and "Go Out Way Too Fast And Totally Bonk At The End." I set Paula the Garmin to encourage me to run the first nine miles at (or reasonably close to) my required pace of 9:09. Then in the remaining 4.1 miles, I could run faster if I felt good.
So hey, maybe I should stop talking about it and just run the race already, right? Right.
I did my best to relax in the first mile, but I blazed through it way too fast at 8:20. I knew there was a big steep hill at the second mile, so I figured that would slow me down, which it did - 8:57. Still too fast, so I focused on relaxing and running at the right pace. I saw some runners around me who I wanted to be ahead of, but I reminded myself that my goal was not to stay ahead of Orange Shirt Girl, but to finish in two hours. I kept going, hitting the next few miles like this:
Mile 3: 9:02
Mile 4: 8:57
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6: 9:02
Mile 7: 9:06
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:04
So, I managed to ease up a bit and ran some pretty consistent splits. I was happy to have my Batman Utility Belt Fuel Belt with me so that I didn't have to stop or slow down for water stops. I was even happier about the fact that, thanks to my training runs with my running club, I knew several of the volunteers. The Distance Classic is a small race - and run on Mother's Day - so there were not a lot of spectators. Seriously, maybe 12 for the first 12 miles. It was great to be able to see some of my running buddies and have them say things like, "Good job, Betsy. You look really good." Because we'd all talked about the race quite a bit during and after those Sunday morning runs, they knew what I was trying to do, and they could see that I was on my way there. It was a great feeling.
After I passed the 10 mile mark, I called Steve and told him where I was. He said that he and Jack were at the stadium excited to see me finish. I felt great and picked up the pace.
Mile 10: 8:38
Mile 11: 8:37
Mile 12: 8:49
I kept looking at my splits and doing math in my head. I knew I was going to make my goal, and I was absolutely thrilled. I was a bit warm in my long sleeves, but I figured I could deal with it for a few more miles. Things were going great. Then, at around the 12-1/2 mile mark, a little cartoon devil popped onto my shoulder. "Just walk to that next telephone pole," it encouraged. I have no idea where that devil came from, because I was tired, but still strong. I definitely had another half a mile or so to give. So I brushed him off and kept going. I was rewarded by the site of my running buddy John standing at the corner, enthusiastically cheering, "Looking good! You've got this one!"
I ran into the stadium and onto the track. In an attempt to maximize that last 1/4 mile, I ditched my Fuel Belt like ballast and tore into it. Steve and Jack were waiting near the finish line. Steve cheered for me and Jack joined me on the track. With my guys cheering for me, I blazed through mile 13 in 8:35 and the little .1 at 6:59 pace.
The final result?
1:56:51.
Previous PR? Smashed.
Race goal? Obliterated.
There was nothing left to do but celebrate. I got my finisher's medal, ate some bagels, bananas, and cookies, and picked out some red petunias - all finishers can choose some annuals to plant, and I'll be happy to have them be part of my garden. I cheered in some more of my running buddies.
And then, I spent the rest of my day feeling triumphant. I put on my red OxySox and took a nap while snuggling with Jack and watching Star Wars. The boys took me to see Disney Earth and Steve made a great dinner for me and my mom.
I have two more triskos scheduled for the next few weeks. A week from Sunday, I'll run Madison, and then on June 7 I am running 13.1 Chicago. Because I did so well in this race, I feel like the pressure is off a little bit and I can relax a bit. That said, I am thinking about running Madison with the first eight miles at 9:09, giving me another 5.1 to speed up if I want to. We'll see how I feel. But until then, I feel like one tough mother!
Plus, there were the messages on my wrists. On my right wrist, I wore my Road ID. Inscribed on it is the mantra that I developed at this very race last year, running a
In fact, the only concern I found when I reached the starting line was that, in a long sleeved shirt and tights, I was dressed more warmly than anyone else there. Was I overdressed? Was that a mistake? It was too late to fix it, so I hoped for the best.
My goal for this race was simple: 2:00 or less. My previous PR was 2:05, so it was ambitious, but I was confident I could do it.
And I tried a new strategy for this race, a strategy that I like to call "Running Smart." This offers a sharp contrast from my previous strategies of "Just Start Running And See What Happens" and "Go Out Way Too Fast And Totally Bonk At The End." I set Paula the Garmin to encourage me to run the first nine miles at (or reasonably close to) my required pace of 9:09. Then in the remaining 4.1 miles, I could run faster if I felt good.
So hey, maybe I should stop talking about it and just run the race already, right? Right.
I did my best to relax in the first mile, but I blazed through it way too fast at 8:20. I knew there was a big steep hill at the second mile, so I figured that would slow me down, which it did - 8:57. Still too fast, so I focused on relaxing and running at the right pace. I saw some runners around me who I wanted to be ahead of, but I reminded myself that my goal was not to stay ahead of Orange Shirt Girl, but to finish in two hours. I kept going, hitting the next few miles like this:
Mile 3: 9:02
Mile 4: 8:57
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6: 9:02
Mile 7: 9:06
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:04
So, I managed to ease up a bit and ran some pretty consistent splits. I was happy to have my Batman Utility Belt Fuel Belt with me so that I didn't have to stop or slow down for water stops. I was even happier about the fact that, thanks to my training runs with my running club, I knew several of the volunteers. The Distance Classic is a small race - and run on Mother's Day - so there were not a lot of spectators. Seriously, maybe 12 for the first 12 miles. It was great to be able to see some of my running buddies and have them say things like, "Good job, Betsy. You look really good." Because we'd all talked about the race quite a bit during and after those Sunday morning runs, they knew what I was trying to do, and they could see that I was on my way there. It was a great feeling.
After I passed the 10 mile mark, I called Steve and told him where I was. He said that he and Jack were at the stadium excited to see me finish. I felt great and picked up the pace.
Mile 10: 8:38
Mile 11: 8:37
Mile 12: 8:49
I kept looking at my splits and doing math in my head. I knew I was going to make my goal, and I was absolutely thrilled. I was a bit warm in my long sleeves, but I figured I could deal with it for a few more miles. Things were going great. Then, at around the 12-1/2 mile mark, a little cartoon devil popped onto my shoulder. "Just walk to that next telephone pole," it encouraged. I have no idea where that devil came from, because I was tired, but still strong. I definitely had another half a mile or so to give. So I brushed him off and kept going. I was rewarded by the site of my running buddy John standing at the corner, enthusiastically cheering, "Looking good! You've got this one!"
I ran into the stadium and onto the track. In an attempt to maximize that last 1/4 mile, I ditched my Fuel Belt like ballast and tore into it. Steve and Jack were waiting near the finish line. Steve cheered for me and Jack joined me on the track. With my guys cheering for me, I blazed through mile 13 in 8:35 and the little .1 at 6:59 pace.
The final result?
1:56:51.
Previous PR? Smashed.
Race goal? Obliterated.
There was nothing left to do but celebrate. I got my finisher's medal, ate some bagels, bananas, and cookies, and picked out some red petunias - all finishers can choose some annuals to plant, and I'll be happy to have them be part of my garden. I cheered in some more of my running buddies.
And then, I spent the rest of my day feeling triumphant. I put on my red OxySox and took a nap while snuggling with Jack and watching Star Wars. The boys took me to see Disney Earth and Steve made a great dinner for me and my mom.
I have two more triskos scheduled for the next few weeks. A week from Sunday, I'll run Madison, and then on June 7 I am running 13.1 Chicago. Because I did so well in this race, I feel like the pressure is off a little bit and I can relax a bit. That said, I am thinking about running Madison with the first eight miles at 9:09, giving me another 5.1 to speed up if I want to. We'll see how I feel. But until then, I feel like one tough mother!
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Running Moms vs. The World
Take It and Run Thursday this week is a salute to running moms. I could write hundreds of blog entries about why I think it's important for me to be both a mother and a runner, how running makes me a better mom, what I hope Jack learns from my efforts, and so on. But today, I want to focus on how my fellow Mother Runners and I are taking on the rest of the world.
I absolutely hate it when McDonald's offers two different Happy Meal toys: one for boys and one for girls. I have spent the past four years making it clear that there are no toys that are just for girls or just for boys. If you want to play with a truck, fine. If you want to play with a doll, fine. Just play and have fun. But McDonald's sees things differently, offering My Little Pony for girls and Leggo stuff for boys. I prefer to bypass all of that crap and just ask Jack if he wants the horsey or the Leggos.
But at a recent visit, the McDonald's employee circumvented my efforts, handing Jack and toy and saying, "Here, this is for boys." It was a hand-held electronic sports game. Jack quickly looked at the display and saw that there were sports games and Hello Kitty games and that the sports ones were for boys. "That's cool," Jack said, "Because girls like Hello Kitty, but they don't really like sports."
Oh, hell no.
Jack lives in a home in which Daddy is just as likely to kiss boo boos as Mommy... and in which the most athletic of his parents is, in fact, Mommy. Girls don't like sports? You put Mommy and Daddy in a footrace, and we'll see who likes sports best and who's faster.
I sat Jack down and reminded him that plenty of girls like sports. Like his friends Emma, Kara, Avery, and Elizabeth who play soccer with him. Like the very strong and determined women who we watched run the Olympic marathon on TV. And, of course, like Mommy, who is a dedicated runner. He immediately saw the error of what he had said and thought it was silly that the sports games were given just to boys.
We running moms fight these sexist messages every single time we put on our running shoes. Every drop of sweat proves that women are not just for decoration, that we are athletes just like our male counterparts. My hope is that I am raising a boy who will not immediately dismiss girls when picking a kickball team, and a man who will respect the strength that women possess.
I absolutely hate it when McDonald's offers two different Happy Meal toys: one for boys and one for girls. I have spent the past four years making it clear that there are no toys that are just for girls or just for boys. If you want to play with a truck, fine. If you want to play with a doll, fine. Just play and have fun. But McDonald's sees things differently, offering My Little Pony for girls and Leggo stuff for boys. I prefer to bypass all of that crap and just ask Jack if he wants the horsey or the Leggos.
But at a recent visit, the McDonald's employee circumvented my efforts, handing Jack and toy and saying, "Here, this is for boys." It was a hand-held electronic sports game. Jack quickly looked at the display and saw that there were sports games and Hello Kitty games and that the sports ones were for boys. "That's cool," Jack said, "Because girls like Hello Kitty, but they don't really like sports."
Oh, hell no.
Jack lives in a home in which Daddy is just as likely to kiss boo boos as Mommy... and in which the most athletic of his parents is, in fact, Mommy. Girls don't like sports? You put Mommy and Daddy in a footrace, and we'll see who likes sports best and who's faster.
I sat Jack down and reminded him that plenty of girls like sports. Like his friends Emma, Kara, Avery, and Elizabeth who play soccer with him. Like the very strong and determined women who we watched run the Olympic marathon on TV. And, of course, like Mommy, who is a dedicated runner. He immediately saw the error of what he had said and thought it was silly that the sports games were given just to boys.
We running moms fight these sexist messages every single time we put on our running shoes. Every drop of sweat proves that women are not just for decoration, that we are athletes just like our male counterparts. My hope is that I am raising a boy who will not immediately dismiss girls when picking a kickball team, and a man who will respect the strength that women possess.
Dose of Cute
You know what this blog means?
I mean, besides more frequently updated content? And sponsors clamoring to give me cool free stuff to review?
More cuteness. And thus, I bring you an update on Spring at Stately Wasser Manor.
Jack's school put on a circus a few weeks ago, and Jack was an acrobat. Let me tell you, it was worth the price of admission (free) just to hear Jack repeatedly say the word "acrobat" when he was practicing his moves at home. He didn't pronounce it wrong, but let me tell you, there was quite a lot of effort and concentration behind it. Anyway, the circus itself was wall-to-wall adorable, with kids acting like elephants, lions, cowboys, tightrope walkers, strongmen, and of course, acrobats. Jack, in his glittery vest and headband (not to mention handlebar moustache) executed forward rolls, jumped on a trampoline, then stood at the top of a human pyramid of fellow acrobats with a triumphant "Ta da!"
Easter weekend immediately followed. We took Jack to an egg hunt at the zoo, and really, the word "hunt" should not be used to describe these events. The grass in a roped off area is covered in eggs, and the kids go and pick them up. There is no actual hunting involved... though Jack, ever thorough in his quest for candy, looked under every blade of grass to make sure he got them all. He then brought his bounty home to his "candy stash," which is a big plastic container that he puts behind the chair in the living room. Since he somehow manages to defy kid-dom and not eat it by the fistfull, we indulge this. The Saturday before Easter, Jack and I made a bunny cake. 
I post not one, but two pictures of it because I am really proud of how well it turned out. I am really good at baking and can absolutely bake a cake that tastes good, but it is rare for me to come up with something that also looks good. Easter morning featured an egg hunt in which Jack had to actually hunt for the eggs. I will always remember his first Easter, in which the Easter bunny scattered about ten plastic eggs in Jack's immediate sight on the living room floor. The eggs did not contain candy, as the bunny knew he didn't eat it yet, but instead were filled with binkies. This time around, Jack got a ton of candy, which he used to further stock the Candy Stash. He also posed for this picture and managed to look like right after he got his Easter basket, he changed out of his frog jammies and went to fight in the Civil War. We also introduced Jack to the bounty that is a brunch buffet, and he did an admirable job of putting down scrambled eggs, fruit, raw veggies, ham, and tater tots.
I am now officially a soccer mom, as Jack is participating in the Little Strikers soccer program. He's on the same team as several of his friends, and their team name is the Tigers. ("Just like Roary, Mommy!") 
Steve is the assistant coach, which is a good thing indeed, as the main coach didn't know anything at all about soccer and forgot to tell the kids things like that the goalie can use her hands. The Tigers had their first game on Tuesday, and it was hilarious to watch. I had to be careful about cheering for Jack, because he had a tendency to stop, turn to me, and give me a thumbs up. He's having a great time playing, especially because it turns out you get ice cream afterwards.
Last but not least in the Cuteness Review, my parents were in town and took the three of us to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner. It was prom night, and Jack was completely mesmerized by the girls, with their brightly colored fancy dresses and elaborate hairdos. Jack went up to three different girls and said, "Um, excuse me? You look really beautiful, just like a princess." The girls completely melted and thought he was the most adorable thing ever. I felt a bit sorry for their dates, who probably failed to say anything half as charming to the girls. And really, it's awfully hard to compete with a line like that and a look like this.
I mean, besides more frequently updated content? And sponsors clamoring to give me cool free stuff to review?
More cuteness. And thus, I bring you an update on Spring at Stately Wasser Manor.
Jack's school put on a circus a few weeks ago, and Jack was an acrobat. Let me tell you, it was worth the price of admission (free) just to hear Jack repeatedly say the word "acrobat" when he was practicing his moves at home. He didn't pronounce it wrong, but let me tell you, there was quite a lot of effort and concentration behind it. Anyway, the circus itself was wall-to-wall adorable, with kids acting like elephants, lions, cowboys, tightrope walkers, strongmen, and of course, acrobats. Jack, in his glittery vest and headband (not to mention handlebar moustache) executed forward rolls, jumped on a trampoline, then stood at the top of a human pyramid of fellow acrobats with a triumphant "Ta da!"
Easter weekend immediately followed. We took Jack to an egg hunt at the zoo, and really, the word "hunt" should not be used to describe these events. The grass in a roped off area is covered in eggs, and the kids go and pick them up. There is no actual hunting involved... though Jack, ever thorough in his quest for candy, looked under every blade of grass to make sure he got them all. He then brought his bounty home to his "candy stash," which is a big plastic container that he puts behind the chair in the living room. Since he somehow manages to defy kid-dom and not eat it by the fistfull, we indulge this. The Saturday before Easter, Jack and I made a bunny cake. 
I post not one, but two pictures of it because I am really proud of how well it turned out. I am really good at baking and can absolutely bake a cake that tastes good, but it is rare for me to come up with something that also looks good. Easter morning featured an egg hunt in which Jack had to actually hunt for the eggs. I will always remember his first Easter, in which the Easter bunny scattered about ten plastic eggs in Jack's immediate sight on the living room floor. The eggs did not contain candy, as the bunny knew he didn't eat it yet, but instead were filled with binkies. This time around, Jack got a ton of candy, which he used to further stock the Candy Stash. He also posed for this picture and managed to look like right after he got his Easter basket, he changed out of his frog jammies and went to fight in the Civil War. We also introduced Jack to the bounty that is a brunch buffet, and he did an admirable job of putting down scrambled eggs, fruit, raw veggies, ham, and tater tots.
I am now officially a soccer mom, as Jack is participating in the Little Strikers soccer program. He's on the same team as several of his friends, and their team name is the Tigers. ("Just like Roary, Mommy!") 
Steve is the assistant coach, which is a good thing indeed, as the main coach didn't know anything at all about soccer and forgot to tell the kids things like that the goalie can use her hands. The Tigers had their first game on Tuesday, and it was hilarious to watch. I had to be careful about cheering for Jack, because he had a tendency to stop, turn to me, and give me a thumbs up. He's having a great time playing, especially because it turns out you get ice cream afterwards.Last but not least in the Cuteness Review, my parents were in town and took the three of us to a Japanese steakhouse for dinner. It was prom night, and Jack was completely mesmerized by the girls, with their brightly colored fancy dresses and elaborate hairdos. Jack went up to three different girls and said, "Um, excuse me? You look really beautiful, just like a princess." The girls completely melted and thought he was the most adorable thing ever. I felt a bit sorry for their dates, who probably failed to say anything half as charming to the girls. And really, it's awfully hard to compete with a line like that and a look like this.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sock Monkeying
Peer pressure has been building on me in a big way to try compression socks. For a while there, it seemed like every blogger and her brother was getting a pair of compression socks to test out. (and by the way, I am more than happy to review any products any readers might have laying around. I have tens of readers!) Then, Runners World featured them as well. Across the board, people seemed to love them. Said they were comfortable and really aided in recovery after long runs. Also, they are knee socks, which is what I wear whenever possible during the winter. I had to try some myself.
The only thing holding me back was the $30 price tag. Maybe I'm cheap, you guys, but $30 is a lot to pay for a pair of socks. Other than my shoes, I don't know if I have any running gear that cost $30. Okay, maybe a jacket. But still!
Regardless, the peer pressure kept on pressuring (as is its job), and I finally caved and tried a pair of Recovery Socks.
The socks came lightning fast, and I could hardly wait for a long run to try them out. I ran a tough 12 miler in the pouring rain and was more than happy to put some cozy knee socks on.
Friends, they are indeed tight. You have to really pay attention to what you're doing to get them to fit right on your legs, but once you work that out, they are really comfy. I had experienced some cramping in my calves during the run, and that totally shut down as soon as I put on the socks. Score! I wore them all day (including hidden under a pair of jeans when I took Jack to the art museum). I felt great and had absolutely no soreness after my run.
The only drawback I found was that I really liked them, thus creating the need to buy more ridiculously expensive socks.
This time, I decided to mix it up with Recovery Socks' competitor Oxysox. Oxysox are a couple bucks cheaper, and as an added bonus, come in red. Just like the Recovery Socks, they came in the mail quickly.
I tried out the Oxysox after Sunday's trisko dress rehearsal ("half marathon training run"). I liked them even better than the Recovery Socks. They were easier to get on, slightly more comfortable, and did I mention they were red?
I plan on wearing my Crazy Expensive Socks after all of my long runs moving forward. Maybe even after really challenging speed work. And when I travel for races, I'll wear a pair right after the race, then another pair if I'm driving home the next day. The true test will come in the winter when I try them out under tights during a run for extra warmth.
And now, the peer pressure is on you. Any temptation to try Crazy Expensive Socks? What's your most expensive running gear (other than shoes)?
Dress Rehearsal
Thanks to my involvement with my local running club, I had a great opportunity on Sunday morning. We ran a 13.1 mile training run for the Quad Cities Distance Classic Trisko (“half marathon”) – and not just any 13.1 miles. We got to run it on the actual race course!
I decided to look at the training run as a dress rehearsal for the main event. Would my plans for fuel, clothing, and so on work on race day? What would the changes to the course be like?
Fuel:
So, the night before the run, I totally forgot that I was doing a trisko the next day and didn’t make much of an effort to carb load. Dinner was cheeseburgers, baked beans, and grilled carrots. And let me tell you, it was delightful. Near as I can tell, my lack of carbs the night before had no ill effect on my running the next day. That is definitely one of the advantages of a trisko over a marathon!
For breakfast, I had a race day favorite meal: toasted English muffin with peanut butter and honey, plus coffee and some water. I meant to eat a banana, but I forgot . No problems there.
I brought two packs of Jelly Belly Sport Beans in cherry – that’s the good kind with caffeine in them. I figured one pack would be enough, but that the second pack would serve as a security blanket or would hook me up in case of emergency. I ate about half of them at 6 miles and the rest at 10. That was good, too.
Clothes:
It’s spring, so you can never be quite sure until the morning of a race what to wear, so I may not be in the same thing for the race as I wore to the dress rehearsal. But if I do end up in my yellow short-sleeved Brooks Podium shirt, grey C9 skirt, C9 socks, One More Mile hat (“Running is my happy hour”) and my Asics 2140’s, I’ll be very comfortable.
Gear:
My faithful running companion Paula Garmin was on my left wrist, over a simple wristband for padding. On my other wrist, I wore my Road ID that bears my mantra ONE TOUGH MOTHER.
Tragically, my iPod is all screwed up. It is stuck in the locked position and I can’t get it un-stuck. I am going to mess with it more this week in hopes of fixing it, the alternative being to buy a new one, which I’d rather not do. In desperation, I borrowed Steve’s. I say desperation because Steve is notorious at Stately Wasser Manor for making the world’s worst running playlists. The songs are all good, but way too mellow. You can’t work up a sweat to any of them. I ended up not using it at all, which I’ll get into later.
My biggest experiment was wearing my Fuel Belt. I really like it, but would it be annoying or uncomfortable for the duration of a trisko? I loaded it up with Gatorade (yellow, adorably matching my shirt). I put the iPod in the pocket, along with just the key to my car, leaving the rest behind to not have any jingling or extra weight. Then I attached my Amphipod, filled with Sport Beans, to the side of it. My friend Cindy compared my Fuel Belt to Batman’s utility belt, which is so awesome that I will call it my Utility Belt from now on. The Utility Belt was completely comfortable, so I’ll be happy to wear it on race day.
Course:
The course has been changed since last year. There’s still a massive uphill right after the first mile and a big downhill at around 4. There’s a short, steep hill somewhere around 9 to get onto a bike path by the river that I’m not too worried about. The great news is, the nasty hill at mile 12 that gave me such grief last year is gone, baby gone. My strategy is to run the first half on pace to finish in 2 hours, giving myself the option to speed up in the second half if I feel like it.
Cool:
There was a huge turnout for dress rehearsal – at least twice as many as the previously best attended training run. Among the people there was Kelly, a fellow runner who works with Steve. Her goal finish is about the same as mine, so we decided to run together. And it was delightful! I had such a good time talking to Kelly that I never used Steve’s questionable iPod – and the miles flew by.
So, all in all, Dress Rehearsal was a success. I feel totally prepared to run this race and to run it well. With any luck, last year’s 2:05 finish will be erased for a new trisko PR!
I decided to look at the training run as a dress rehearsal for the main event. Would my plans for fuel, clothing, and so on work on race day? What would the changes to the course be like?
Fuel:
So, the night before the run, I totally forgot that I was doing a trisko the next day and didn’t make much of an effort to carb load. Dinner was cheeseburgers, baked beans, and grilled carrots. And let me tell you, it was delightful. Near as I can tell, my lack of carbs the night before had no ill effect on my running the next day. That is definitely one of the advantages of a trisko over a marathon!
For breakfast, I had a race day favorite meal: toasted English muffin with peanut butter and honey, plus coffee and some water. I meant to eat a banana, but I forgot . No problems there.
I brought two packs of Jelly Belly Sport Beans in cherry – that’s the good kind with caffeine in them. I figured one pack would be enough, but that the second pack would serve as a security blanket or would hook me up in case of emergency. I ate about half of them at 6 miles and the rest at 10. That was good, too.
Clothes:
It’s spring, so you can never be quite sure until the morning of a race what to wear, so I may not be in the same thing for the race as I wore to the dress rehearsal. But if I do end up in my yellow short-sleeved Brooks Podium shirt, grey C9 skirt, C9 socks, One More Mile hat (“Running is my happy hour”) and my Asics 2140’s, I’ll be very comfortable.
Gear:
My faithful running companion Paula Garmin was on my left wrist, over a simple wristband for padding. On my other wrist, I wore my Road ID that bears my mantra ONE TOUGH MOTHER.
Tragically, my iPod is all screwed up. It is stuck in the locked position and I can’t get it un-stuck. I am going to mess with it more this week in hopes of fixing it, the alternative being to buy a new one, which I’d rather not do. In desperation, I borrowed Steve’s. I say desperation because Steve is notorious at Stately Wasser Manor for making the world’s worst running playlists. The songs are all good, but way too mellow. You can’t work up a sweat to any of them. I ended up not using it at all, which I’ll get into later.
My biggest experiment was wearing my Fuel Belt. I really like it, but would it be annoying or uncomfortable for the duration of a trisko? I loaded it up with Gatorade (yellow, adorably matching my shirt). I put the iPod in the pocket, along with just the key to my car, leaving the rest behind to not have any jingling or extra weight. Then I attached my Amphipod, filled with Sport Beans, to the side of it. My friend Cindy compared my Fuel Belt to Batman’s utility belt, which is so awesome that I will call it my Utility Belt from now on. The Utility Belt was completely comfortable, so I’ll be happy to wear it on race day.
Course:
The course has been changed since last year. There’s still a massive uphill right after the first mile and a big downhill at around 4. There’s a short, steep hill somewhere around 9 to get onto a bike path by the river that I’m not too worried about. The great news is, the nasty hill at mile 12 that gave me such grief last year is gone, baby gone. My strategy is to run the first half on pace to finish in 2 hours, giving myself the option to speed up in the second half if I feel like it.
Cool:
There was a huge turnout for dress rehearsal – at least twice as many as the previously best attended training run. Among the people there was Kelly, a fellow runner who works with Steve. Her goal finish is about the same as mine, so we decided to run together. And it was delightful! I had such a good time talking to Kelly that I never used Steve’s questionable iPod – and the miles flew by.
So, all in all, Dress Rehearsal was a success. I feel totally prepared to run this race and to run it well. With any luck, last year’s 2:05 finish will be erased for a new trisko PR!
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