A Good Run

Chicago's had a long, brutal winter. Some may argue we're still in winter as snowflakes flew in some suburbs earlier today.

Normally, spring is an open invitation to hit the pavement quite often - at lunch, before work or in the evening as the days get longer. But this year is different. Between the cooler than average temperatures and my new found joy of inversions and arm balances at The Lab, it's been easy to stay out of my running shoes.

I'd be lying to say it hasn't been a struggle some days to get out there. When you run less, your body is less conditioned for the activity, which in my case has lead to a load of crappy runs. Slow, labored runs. I find myself thinking:

Is this how it feels to start over? It must be. Feels like I never ran. Ever. And that person that ran two marathons last year...If you see her, can you remind her she needs to get my body back into shape? And by the way, where's this "muscle memory" I hear so much about? I used to enjoy doing this, right?

Yesterday I went on a late lunch hour run. I stood outside my office building waiting for my Garmin to locate satellites.  I'll admit, I can be an inpatient person, and the Garmin does test that. As it cycled through it's 4th attempt to find satellites, I'd come to realize how cool it was outside and regretted my outfit choice of a long sleeved shirt and shorts. Maybe I should just go back inside, I thought. This just wasn't meant to be.

But dammit, I was already outside. I'd worked past 95% of the obstacles that keep me from getting out on a run. Now I just had to move - literally.

I started pretty slow as in recent weeks I've found myself talking a few walk breaks mid run. As I warmed up, I felt pretty good. But I didn't want to get too excited too early. I did want to run for four miles. I headed south down to the Shedd Aquarium where I filled up my water bottle and adjusted my playlist.

On the way back, things started to connect. I felt good. Nothing was aching. I wasn't out of breath. I wasn't too hot. I had great music and plenty of water.

As I got back to work, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Ok, I can still run. Let's chalk today's effort up as a success and keep building on it.

After all, Ragnar Relay is just a few weeks away and I have three legs to run, not to mention many other races this summer and fall.

Chicago Marathon 2012 - Race Preparation

Unofficially I've been preparing for the marathon 2012 since the day after marathon 2011.

The mild winter allowed me to keep my weekly mileage up in what are typically low mileage months. I ran a number of races in the spring, leading up to a good base once marathon training officially started in early June.

In the last 18 weeks, I've spent roughly 70 hours training or racing and another 50 hours in the yoga studio. That's not counting Ragnar Relay, because, well, it should be it's own thing.

And there's marathoners who dedicate significantly more time than that.

All for one day. Not even a full day.

A morning. One morning in October.

 Normally I find myself obsessing about the weather or my nutrition strategy during the taper. This year I tried to remain calm. In the end, maybe a bit too calm.

When Brian, Kim and I headed to the Expo on Friday. We walked throughout the Expo - a hundred thousand square foot utopia of all things running. I managed to spend a mere $8 on Gu and forgot to pick up Spectator Guides for my family and friends. Not my normal expo strategy.

Then it was off to dinner where we had delicious pasta and a few glasses of wine. (Wine less than two days before race day?)

But I did do some things right. I hydrated and ate well in the week leading up to the race. I logged good hours of sleep. I felt ready.

That is, until Saturday night.

Shortly after my Mom came over, I started going through my pre-race ritual - laying out the outfit, pinning the bib number onto the shirt, etc.

I looked all over the condo and couldn't find Dave's famous cowbell sign. He always has that big yellow sign. So I made a new one. 

Then I couldn't find duct tape to attach my name to my shirt. I searched high and low for it. Just before walking out the door to CVS to buy some, I looked one last time in a place I'd checked six times before and finally found it.

Oh boy, it's going to be a long night.

I went through the marathon check list, sealed up my participant bag and went to bed.

In a few short hours I'd wake up and head downtown for my fifth marathon.

The Road to Ragnar 2012

Signing up to run a road race has a set of steps associated with it. Sign up day can give you butterflies, sometimes followed by slight panic. Then training starts and continues sometimes for months. Closer to race day there's race logistics, travel plans and the ever-important weather check.

That's just planning for one person. A Ragnar team has 12 people.

Seven months before the event, the process starts. You have three months to convince 11 people to join your team before early registration closes and registration prices increase.

You ask friends to join you. You tell them it will be a fun adventure including some running, a lot of driving and a little sleep. Shortly after those emails go out, questions come back. Questions like - Where will I sleep? What will we eat? When and how far will I run?

Ragnar is a much larger, logistical monster.

After convincing 12 people, it's time to find three more people to volunteer. Somehow this is more challenging than getting your 12 team members. Next it's time to hunt for what you'd consider 'good' volunteer assignments (and not sticking them in a location overnight in rural Wisconsin).

Now it's time to find two 15-passenger vans and hold them at a fair price for race weekend. Van 1 needs hotel accommodations in Madison the night before. The team needs a time table to give a best-case scenario of when each leg will be run. By now, some team members are contacting you regarding possible date conflicts for the race and injuries.

Lots of emails go out to the team over the next few months to make decisions at each juncture.

Head lamps, tail lights and safety vests are purchased. Van drivers are determined. Costco trips are made.

The week before the race: Sleeping bags, snacks and running gear is packed. Time tables are finalized. More questions are answered. Meet up times are set.

Suddenly it's 3pm on Thursday and I'm driving to Sara's house. After a drive-by pick up, Sara joins me to head to the van rental location. We trade in my small sedan for a big van. An hour later, we pick up our four van mates. A quick stop at Jimmy John's then we're on the road to Madison.

Our Ragnar start time is just 16 hours away.