Marathoning [equals] Morning Person

If there is one life habit that marathon training changed,  is it's made me a morning person.

A grateful morning person.

I remember my Mom trying to make me a morning person in my teens. I would fight her on it. Why would I want to get up that early when I could sleep? She would tell me that I might be pleasantly surprised in becoming a morning person. Those who rise early can get their to-do list done and still have a day ahead of them.

Well Mom, you were right.

However, like most children, I had to learn that lesson for myself.

I couldn't learn it just through graduating college and entering the workforce.  

Or by how I almost always opt to buy the first flight of the morning when I travel.

Oh no, I had to learn this in a 20-week commitment - marathon training.

If I remember correctly, I fought the morning runs for as long as I could. I signed up for the latest (6:30am) Saturday long run group. I ran my midweek runs after work. 

But that summer of 2008 was a hot one. 

If there's something my body liked less than getting up early, it was humidity and heat. 

I slowly eased into early morning runs like one starts training. First, to try out a short three mile run. It's only three miles. A mere 30 minutes of time. 

From there, out of necessity and seeing the benefits of (to avoid being cheesy, but) starting out on the right foot, I continued with morning mid-week training runs for years.

Certain race days or weekend long runs called for an earlier than 5am alarm. I think that's when it really hit home how much running was changing my sleeping habits. I was up and running some mornings before the sun rose. Or, on one occasion, Jeff, Jen, Sara, Kim and I were heading to run Fort2Base (a 12 Nautical Mile run from Fort Sheridan to Great Lakes Naval Station) while people were leaving the bars in Wrigleyville.  

If there's one thing that's been truly strange about this past summer, it's that I didn't wake up before the sun rose to run. It was weird to sleep in past 6am during the week. I felt like I accomplished less last summer. That I missed out on weeks of mornings with a beautiful sunrise.

As I ease back into a running regimen (and while the city's sidewalks melt), I find myself looking forward to those spring and summer mornings.  

An Early Morning Run [Inspired by Social Media]

Training changes a normal person into a strange, somewhat complusive, maniac.

Regardless of social engagements, vacations or weather conditions - long runs must happen.

Somehow, somewhere, your few mile jog after work went away, and you welcomed long runs into your life. Long runs are big time commitments. They are a multi-front (and not to mention a well coordinated) effort.

In the time some of your friends watch their favorite movie (or find themselves pulled into the magnetic force of a four-hour replay of Shawshank Redemption on TNT - admit it, it's happened to all of us), you're doing one thing - running.

But you're not dreading it. You're planning it. 'Cause this sh-t's gonna happen.

Camille is my cousin. She is training for her second Chicago Marathon. And nothing - I mean nothing - is standing in her way. She recently posted this on Facebook, to which a few of her runner friends and myself replied.

To us, this is completely normal (and I'll admit it - I miss it):

A New Meaning for June

June is a great month. Wouldn't you agree?

When I was a kid, June was the end of school and beginning of summer. A time of shorts, softball games, tennis camps, bike riding, listening to music and going to bed late.

Ok, as an adult, some of those things haven't changed. I traded in tennis camps for marathon training and along with it, early June became week one of my life until marathon race day in October. Over the years, I've looked forward to June and feared it.

But this year is different - I've run a lot less and practiced a lot of yoga. In the winter, it was easy to say I needed a break from running. That the brutal Chicago weather just wasn't condusive to any sort of outdoor running. But now it's June and my windows are open. I could be running, like...pretty much every day. Instead I'm running a bit and still practicing yoga at a good clip. I know I need to be running more as marathon training kicks off, but I'm not ready to turn down the yoga.

As this workout battle rages on in my head, The Lab introduces their first ever yoga challenge:

Now how can I saw no to that? Granted, there are many poses on here that I simply can't do and a few others I'm going to have to talk a trusting friend into being my yoga accomplice to complete. But regardless, the challenge makes me want to try the poses that seem impossible and improve on the ones that I can do. 

Much like a marathon training schedule, this challenge graphic gives me a day to day calendar to follow. Practicing a pose a day is a big leap from the girl who used to only practice yoga when injured. 

Today is day 5 of the challenge. So far, I'm enjoying participating and posting my photos as well as looking through the trend's feed to see what others are posting. 

Pushing Through

Long runs can take a long time. I like to think of them as journeys.

You can experience a variety of emotion, physical challenge and weather all on the same long run. 

September 7th's 18 miler was just that.

After a tune-up massage on Thursday night,  I foam rolled and crossed my fingers that my sore hip and quad would cooperate during Saturday morning's group training run.

That morning, I met Jeff and Carl, along with many others fellow marathoners-in-training, down at the Montrose site.

The weather was cooler than expected for what would be a hot day. Even still, it was humid.

The run started off ok. As we pulled into the first aid station at Diversey, I started to experience the lightheaded symptoms I had two weeks ago. I wonder where this is coming from. I've managed to train for five marathons and never have this.

I didn't want to give up 2.5 miles in to an 18 mile run, but at the same time, I didn't want to push too hard and pass out either. I decided to slow down the pace a bit and stay in the back of the group where I could trail off if needed.

I let Jeff know I wasn't feeling 100% and encouraged him to go on at the front of the group without me. He checked in with Carl, our group leader, and then came back to me. He said not to worry about it, he would run with me.

I have known Jeff since the summer of 2008 when I trained for my first marathon. With the exception of one year, he's been there with our group each year. Last year, Jeff and I ran the entire Chicago Marathon course together. Talk about stars aligning! This year, Jeff's training is going quite well. He seems stronger this year than in any other year I've known him. He could have easily continued with Carl at the front of the group, leading the way down to McCormick Place and back. Instead, he came to hang back with me. What a great friend!

We chased our group from a distance down to the turn around, then headed back north. Some miles I felt better (physically or mentally), others worse. The clouds parted to sun, back to clouds, to rain, to overcast again.

We talked about anything we could think of. Any topic could fly except to talk about running.

In the end, we finished where we started. 18 miles was complete.

A McDonald's fountain coke was purchased on the way home followed by a check mark placed next to the date where 18 miles was written.
 
The run wasn't pretty, but it was done.

[Thanks, Jeff]

SOSing the Massage Therapist

There comes a point in training where things that were once way down on the to-do list go right to the top.

Case in point last week - A desperate need for a massage. 

I'd run four miles on Tuesday morning with the same dull ache in my hip I've had for a few weeks. Weather was cool with low humidity. I felt pretty good. 

On Wednesday, I went out to run five at lunch. About two miles in, the run turned into a run/walk. Then with breaks to stretch. My right quad and IT were getting tight. 

I stretched as best as I could and rested that evening, hoping the phantom pain would disappear. 

Thursday morning the exact opposite thing happened. The muscle tightness caused me to reach for my phone and text my massage therapist at 6am. In an act of true desperation, I hoped that he had some time to fit me in that evening. 

Luckily, he did.

That evening, he checked my alignment and discovered something was off. My left hip was higher than my right and in turn, made my left leg shorter. This is not something he had ever noticed before, including when I was in to see him five weeks ago. 

After an hour of stretching and massage, I was sore but hopeful. I have to remind myself this is the hardest period of training. These things happen. But how did this happen? Did I push myself too hard in yoga? Am I sitting in a bad position at my desk? I'm searching for an answer. 

In the meantime, I've traded my desk chair in for an oversized exercise ball and rekindled my romance with the foam roller.

The Big Hill of the North Side

Did you know there's a big hill on the North Side of Chicago?

Before I tell you about it, I'll need you to get into my frame of mind as I approach the bottom of the mountain (ok, maybe it's just a big hill?):

I'm in the last quarter mile of a run varying from 5 to 18 miles. It's likely warm and humid. My body and mind are probably not at 100%.

My terrain in the run so far (not including the North Avenue bridge) has been flat. I love Chicago for that.

I've spent anywhere from the last 50 minutes to 3 hours running. I'm probably ready to be done. I've consumed a relatively large quantity of water and Gatorade, not to mention Gu. A discussion has already happened about brunch (and I've decided what I'm having). A conversation on the topic of bodily fluids likely happened. On the smell meter, I'm somewhere between moderately offensive to homeless man on the El. 

I'm thinking of the big sigh I will let out as I lay in my bed an hour from now, freshly showered and full of post-run kibble. It will be glorious.

We turn off the main lakefront pathway and onto the spur that goes closer to the lakefront. The group gears up for Cricket Hill which comes into sight as we clear the viaduct. The group leaders yell something motivational about taking the hill so we don't wuss out.

Then we take on Cricket Hill. 

 

photo courtesy of emmers712.blogspot.com

The rationale is that if you run up Cricket Hill at the end of each long run then you'll have no problem with Roosevelt Street Bridge at the end of the Chicago Marathon. 

The strategy's worked for me, so I guess I'll keep on truckin' up the hill.  

Sometimes the hill comes easy. But most of the time, at least in my experience, it owns me. I get to the top of it short of breath and out of gas. Why is it that I do this? Yet I continue to do it, group run after group run. If running it once a week between June and September isn't enough, sometimes I hit it on a Wednesday mid-week run or on the off season as it's covered in snow. 

The duel between Cricket Hill and I continues (and I'll try to forget there's hill's in D.C.).

Glowing in the Dark

Late last week, I was given a free entry to check out LivingSocial's inaugural "Glow in the Dark 5k" fun run.

I wasn't sure what to expect as the four of us approached Soldier Field Saturday night. I think our minds were recalling the storm that had passed through Chicago in the last few hours. Our eyes were on the sky to see if Glowing in the dark also meant being wet.

I kept an open mind as to what this race would be. Inaugural races are learning experiences for all. Even with the pending storm, we were surprised to see so many participants lined up at the start area.

The run started just south of Soldier Field. Participants were instructed to wear all black. Glow sticks were provided to illuminate the crowd as we waited to start this fun run.

I'd read there would be music throughout the course. Races have advertised this before and I've found the amount of area the music covered less than anticipated. However, this run got it right.

Stations were set up along the course with DJs and good sound systems. As one station faded, another picked up. The music choices were stellar.

Along with the DJ stations were large light-up props to help theme out the course.

Though many participants chose to walk the route, in general, the crowds seemed to give way to us as we ran by. People stopped to take pictures and listen to music. The course was an experience within itself that as I look back on it, I cheated myself by running through it.

Following the run was a dance party inside Soldier Field. The music didn't disappoint. Many participants stayed well past our 10:30 departure time.

As we stood on the field listening to music post run, I was reminded of the Soldier Field 10 the weekend before. My cousin had set a massive 12 minute PR as she crossed the 50 yard finish line. In a few weeks, I'll be back a Soldier Field for a music festival.

All and all, the Glow in the Dark 5K was a fun event. I just wish I hadn't ate an entire basket of cheese curds before the run.

First Morning Run

I've been thinking it was about time I switched back over to weekday morning runs. The days are getting longer. The weather is getting nicer. Work is getting crazier.

So last night, after I missed an opportunity to run in the 80 degree weather due to a later night at the office, I decided to do something about it. I set my alarm for an hour earlier.

This morning, I headed out shortly after 6am for an easy three mile run. I'm not sure how many times I've run this route, but I'm sure it's in the hundreds.

I jump on Sheridan heading south until I hit the lakefront path's northerly end at Hollywood Ave. I stop briefly at the drinking fountain at the bike turn around and head back home.

I doubt I know any stretch of road better than this mile and a half.

Many people complain about the congestion on Sheridan Road.  It can be hard to navigate in a car. Vehicles bob and weave around others turning left and buses making frequent stops. They honk and cut each other off.

Then there's the sidewalk on the east side of the street. It's my running route along with so many others. It's possible to run from my house all the way to my turn around without having to stop at a streetlight. A unique feature in a city founded on a grid.

This morning, as I eased into my morning routine, I paid special attention to the sidewalk and things around it:

A chalk drawing on the sidewalk by Loyola - Congratulations, graduates.  Well that's nice.

A few seconds further, a pool of red liquid, questionably blood, next to the Red Eye newspaper vending box. Hm, seems questionable. 

A lone empty bag of Cheeto's. Eh, nothing unusual there.

An empty bottle of Yellow Tail next to an empty pack of Camel Menthol's. Looks like someone had a one man party with those items. 

As I was heading back thinking of blood, Cheetos, Yellow Tail and Camel Menthol's, I came upon a familiar face. It was Glen.

Glen is not his real name. It's the name I've given him as he lives at the corner of Glenlake & Sheridan. I see Glen on most of my morning runs. I smile and he waves. He greets me with a 'Good Morning' sometimes. Little does he know, he is often the first person who talks to me in a day.

I wondered at the end of last season if I'd see Glen again this year. He's getting up there in age. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him this morning. He was wrangling his small dog as I passed by, so I don't think he saw me. But I know I'll see him out there tomorrow morning.

Hello again, morning summer runs.

Missed [Running] Opportunities

Do you ever have one of those days where you just can't get your sh-t together?

Yesterday was one of them for me:

I woke up and checked my weather app. It read 60 degrees. In Chicago. In January. Amazing. A run must happen today!

I went through my get-ready-for-work routine and left the house for the bus stop. As I walked down to the bus stop, I recalled my backpack being quite light. I had left my running shoes at home. And not just any running shoes. A brand new pair of shoes that I planned on breaking in today. A brand new pair is heaven after running in a pair towards the end of their useable life.

The thought crossed my mind to go back home and grab the shoes. How negatively could my commute be effected if I left ten minutes later?

I looked down at my phone and saw a text from my mom. It read 'Lunch?' and that was it. I kept walking to the bus stop and didn't turn around. A few things happened in a matter of minutes that sidelined my lunchtime run plans.

As I looked up to cross the street to the bus stop, a fast runner passed me with a bright pair of compression socks on. This only made my situation worse. He was out there, getting his with his bad ass compression socks and I was waiting for the damn bus. Fail.

I boarded a crowded bus and stared longingly out the window and we traveled down Sheridan and on to Lake Shore. I saw more of them. Men and women. Wearing shorts. Smiling. I was on the wrong side of the road right now and couldn't help but beat myself up about it. 

I tried to console myself by saying I'd run when I got home. It would still be in the high 40's then and incredibly warm for a January evening. As my workday progressed, I watched the weather outside my window change to rain and dark.

I walked back to the bus stop as a light rain began. A little rain is nothing. I'll run through rain I thought. Then the skies opened up and it poured buckets. Around 20 of us waited for the bus with only the cover of our somewhat useless umbrellas. Our feet became wet followed by our pants and then our backs. Eventually the bus arrived and all the wet dogs piled on the bus with the other wet animals.

I tried to take myself to a happy place while in this situation and imagined if I'd gotten up early and run like the guy in the compression socks.

The F^3 Lake Half Marathon

On Saturday, I'm doing something many would think is crazy. I'm running a half Marathon. In Chicago. On the lakefront.

Around 10am on Saturday, approximately 1500 runners and a hundred or so volunteers will gather at Montrose Harbor for the 4th annual F^3 Lake Half Marathon.

What's F^3 you may ask? The F'n Freezing Frozen. Appropriately named considering the weather forecast for Saturday wouldn't you say?

This race is the brainchild of my friend Kim S. She gathered a group of her friends together a few years ago to celebrate winter training with a 13.1 fun run. I didn't get a chance to participate that year. I was rehabbing a sore knee and weak hip. But shortly thereafter that first race, Kim knew she had a unique event to bring to the Chicago running community.

It's been fun and truly amazing to watch Kim grow the race since that first year. She has connected a subculture in the Chicago running community. Some may call us crazy. Others could say hardcore. Truthfully, I think a lot of us share the same disdain for treadmills.

(Fast forward a few days to today, the day after the race. I didn't manage to wrap this one up before the race like I hoped).

Brian and I got together on Friday night to keep to our ritual of drinking three the night before a race. Dinner was followed by laying out race gear (a more intricate task in the winter season) and going to bed. Dave and I headed to the race around 8 ( Dave volunteered), but not before I had to turn around together my bib off the refrigerator. (I'd forgotten the critical step of pinning my bib onto my shirt the night before).

The temperature that morning was what most would call freezing. The light snow the day border made a white blanket over the landscape. Perfect for photos. The wind was light and sun was out.

Dave took a great shot of the start area.

Brian, Jeff and I ran together for most of the race. That is, until Jeff left us in the dust around mile 10. We saw a few friends along the way and marveled at all the faces we didn't know. How quickly Kim's race has grown. We had a few quick walk breaks to alleviate a cramp or to take down fluids, but other than that, we're pretty happy with our performance. Especially with the lack of training we'd both done.

Shortly after the finish, we all met at the after party. It was great to see it so well attended and the crowd excitement for the race. For a short period, a large mass of the crazy winter runners were gathered in one place. We talked, laughed and had a few drinks. Then left each other's company saying we'd see each other soon - whether it be out on the path next week or this summer.

4:30 am Run

This summer has proved to be a hot one thus far.

Morning running has proved a necessity instead of a convenience.

However, sometimes even early morning running isn't enough.

Last Friday, for the first time in the five years I've been training, CARA canceled a Saturday long run due to the heat at all their sites. They advised against running Saturday altogether, noting that Sunday's forecast was predicted to be favorable for exercise.

Soon after the CARA email came out, emails flew between a small group of runners. Runners that were somewhat determined to get their 10 mile run in Saturday.

So how does one go about running on a black flagged day?  Run earlier than the 6:30 or 6 am training groups.

5am was tossed around as a meet up time at Montrose Harbor.

My alarm went off at 4:00am. I checked my messages to see Kim had a restless night of sleep and planned to run instead on Sunday. I ate breakfast and put on my gear. I filled my water bottles and made a strong concentration of Gatorade.

It was 4:30. I was ready. And so I went.

Running at 4:30am on a Saturday proved to be much different than at 6. The streets were relatively quiet with scattered police on patrol. I ran down the sidewalk, toward the lakefront path. I could hear my footsteps. A rarity in a city of a thousand sounds.

I wondered how long it would be before I saw someone else with the same crazy idea. I made it just three blocks from my house before seeing the first runner. I decided I would wave or say hi to each runner today. Anyone out at this time had to be partially crazy or a total bad ass.

As George had posted regarding his Friday run, I broke the run into segments. I took time to focus on hydration, stretching and tuning in to how I felt. Today wasn't a day to push through anything. I might think I was tough, but I wasn't going to be a hero for crashing on this training run either.

I was lucky enough to reach my turn around point shortly after the run broke through the clouds as it rose for the day. I had shade on my side on the way back. I barely looked at my watch but to check the overall distance.

I finished right around 6:30. It wasn't a memorable run as to how I felt physically or mentally, but I was happy to have the accomplishment complete for that day.

Chicago Spring Half Marathon

One of the benefits of being part of a running team is the occasional free race entry. I'm scared to even ballpark a dollar amount to what I've spent on race entries over the years (but hey, it's better than spending the money on fast food, right?). The Chicago Spring Half happened to be one of them.

Kim S. turned me on to this race a few years ago. The race's start and finish is extremely convenient to her place, which has been the home of some fun post-race parties over the years. But this year, Kim was out of the country and Jen and I were taking on the race.

We decided we'd meet each other down at the start line. This race has a small field for a half marathon. As I got off the bus at Michigan and Randolph at 5:45am, the bus driver asked me what race I was doing. I told her of the race and she said she wished me luck on winning it. (right!)

After checking my bag at the Universal Sole tent, I headed to the start line and found Jen. The weather was overcast but warm. A few announcements were made as the field faced south. The weather didn't look good in that direction. A dark, heavy cloud was hanging that way. It looked like rain. The announcer ensured us the race was keeping tabs on the weather and we may get drizzled on at the southern most part of the course, but after that, we should be in the clear. As we stood there waiting for the delayed start, the temperature started to drop and the wind picked up.

The race finally starts and Jen and I spend the first few miles catching up. Around mile 5, she picks up the pace and I maintain mine. All was good until about mile 6. Rain. Then came mile 6.5, our turn around. Now wind.

At the halfway point, I checked my watch. I had a good pace going in relation to my half marathon PR time at about three minutes faster than anticipated. But could I maintain in the rain and wind. Then I remembered the 2008 Chicago Half Marathon - my standing half PR race. Conditions were anything but ideal then.

From 6.5 to the end, it was a tough, windy race. The rain pelted our bodies from the air and reflected off the ground onto us. The path was covered in puddles. Our shoes were soaked. The wind made our shirts into sails. Out on the the lake shore we had no cover. I'd set a good pace to start with. Now that it was nasty out, I figured it best to try to maintain and get out of the elements.

In the last mile, the rain slowed to a drizzle. I checked my watch as we came into the River East neighborhood. This race would be a PR. And by six minutes.

Maybe the key to PR success (besides drinking three the night before) is rain.

Jen and I met right after the race and headed to a brunch spot to change our clothes, have a hot cup of coffee and celebrate with oreo smores pancakes.

February, You're Pretty Awesome Too

January's weather was amazing.

February's turning out to be pretty awesome as well.

Last night, I listened to Tom Skilling speak with excitement as he talked about our unseasonably warm winter. I get a kick out of Skilling. His voice rises and hands move as he talks about isobars, reflectivity in the jet stream, and cumulus clouds. If someone was ever excited about the weather, it's him.

To date, 2012 has brought 8x more 40 degree days than 2011 for a total of 40 days - incredible to think when we're just halfway through February.

Winter Training isn't so bad after all, eh?

Dear Unseasonably Warm January:

I Love You.

You're the best thing that's happened to January. Ever.

Instead of walking briskly from building to building, I'm at more of a leisurely stroll.

It is in the 40's in early January, after all.

Instead of forcing myself to do treadmill workouts, I'm happily running outside.

Forget the 40's! 54 degrees and sunny on Friday's run. You keep getting better!

I've never been so happy to say we didn't have a white christmas, or new year's.

So far January, you rule.

Keep it up.

The Runner to Runner Wave or Nod

This afternoon I went on a run. It was 44 degrees.

I saw a dozen or so runners along the path. About half of them gave a wave or nodded. I returned the greeting.

Are runners more friendly during the holidays? Or does the seasonably-mild weather bring it out? Hardly anyone waves along the lakefront path in the summer. Maybe that's because we're too busy trying to contend with all the runner and bike traffic, or we're too focused on training or something else.

I started paying attention to the wave last year as I committed to winter training.

If I have it right, I think the logic goes something like this:

As the weather progressively gets colder, fewer runners venture outside. Now that there's less people, we're more likely to greet the ones we see.

Therefore, at a certain degree Fahrenheit you're left with two types of runners - the hard cores and the crazies.

How do you tell the difference between the hard core and a crazy? Two ways - Gear and speed.

The hard core people wave on the premise that we're all out there to get our training in, regardless of the weather. They are thinking motivational thoughts like 'Live Strong' or 'Dig Deep.'

The crazy people wave to acknowledge the basis of their craziness. They occasionally ask themselves, 'Why the hell am I doing this?' and consider visiting their gym's treadmill for their next run.

The wave or nod can be used interchangeably. However, if you are nodded at, you should nod back (and vice versa). If you throw a wave after you've been handed a nod, it's like missing on a high five.

Waving and nodding seems to be more common in the City.

Along the North Shore, the wave is sometimes followed with a 'Good Morning' which can be quite pleasant. Though I usually don't get a reply in. Then I feel bad I didn't verbally greet the friendly runner. Also on the North Shore, drivers will back up if they are in the right of way of the sidewalk to let a runner through. Amazing! But that's another blog post.

On the rare occasion that I come in contact with another runner in the southwest burbs, I think they must be in shock or don't know of the wave. Maybe we should start the trend?

What's crazier than running at 6:30 am on a Saturday?

Running at 6am.

Nah, let's make it 5am.

It's been in the upper 90's the last few days with high humidity, and Saturday looks to be no different.

If this was my first summer training, I might think that I'd be finished with a 14 miler before it really got hot by starting at 6:30am.

Truth is, I know better.

In 2008, there was a particularly hot Saturday where our long run was 16 miles. I'm not the only one that remembers the day. I guess you could call it one of our war stories from training.

I don't recall the run south to the loop being all too bad. It was the journey back that got us. That's the day I learned how much I dislike the lakefront between Ohio and Fullerton. It's an uncomfortable mass of concrete being continuously blasted by the sun.

Between Ohio and North Avenue, we went from two groups of ten to groups of 3 or 4. Each person was doing whatever they could to keep moving forward, but it wasn't pretty. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't call it running. But we finished the run and learned a valuable lesson.

Check the weather and run earlier.

Which leads me to thinking about the last few days of intense heat. Remember during the blizzard we were wishing for this? Now we have all the heat we could ever dream of but we don't want it. In lieu of complaining, I read a facebook status from Salute Inc. which I found to some things up quite nicely:

I was going to complain about how hot it is, then I realized that: 1.) It isn't really 109 degrees; 2.) I'm not 5,700 miles from home; 3.) I'm not dressed in a full BDU uniform and helmet and carrying 70+ lbs.; and 4.) There is very little chance that anyone will shoot at me. Thanks to all that serve!

Thanks for reminding us Salute, and, thank you Dan.

Forecast of Saturday at 6am: 87 degrees with a 40% chance of thunderstorms

This past Saturday didn't start out to be a picture-perfect running day.

It was absolutely pouring when I left my place at 6am. I was soaked walking out of my building and getting in to my car (distance is about 20 feet). But I was determined to run with the training group that morning.

Lake Michigan had relocated itself onto Lake Shore Drive, which made the drive south a challenge instead of a delight. The underpasses were flooded. I still found my way to our meeting place.

I pulled next to Kim's Rabbit. She wasn't in it, but I had a text from her, saying something along the lines of 'Run canceled. Go get back in bed.'

I called her to find she was in Larry's car a few spaces down. We waited for another half hour to see if we'd get the all clear to start the group run a bit later. In the end, CARA canceled the training run - but we didn't.

Kim suggested we dry out and regroup at Carbio. John joined us there. The four of us sat, talking about running and many other things, until 7:30, when it appeared that the weather was passing.

That's when we made the decision - we would still do the 12 miler. Even if the Fleet Feet aid stations were down. Even if we were the only ones out there. We were determined. Our social calendars did not allow for a Sunday morning run (who does that?) or getting up before the sun was up on Monday to get in a nearly three hour run.

So we did it. We were tough. We took the road less traveled. We ran north and then south along the path. We ran around Montrose Harbor and then along the east side of the golf course.

At the North Avenue soccer field, we talked the Gatorade people in to sharing their supply with us. We were very grateful.

In the end, we were done with the 12 mile run before noon, and we had mostly cloudy skies, a nice breeze, and just a hint of sprinkles.

Sounds like a perfect training day to me.

Hot Summer Days

It's July 20th - the heat of summer - and man, has it been hot.

I checked the weather on Sunday and was excited to see that we were going to avoid 90+ this week. Apparently weather.com is not as a reliable source as Tom Skilling. Skilling told me on Monday that in fact it will be in the 90's this week. Once again.

My body doesn't like the 90's much, especially not for exercising. Lunchtime workouts are out of the question. Even after work is too hot. I tried a week of running at 7:30 in the evening, but even then it's humid.

So I did something I've never done before, well, at least not on a weekday - I started working out before work. I know, there are countless people that do this everyday. I could never motivate myself to get out of bed early if I didn't have to. In the last week, the heat has done just that.

I thought about it, and if I get up at 5:30am on Saturdays, why not just do it during the week as well?

So far, I'm enjoying getting out in the morning. There's less people on the lakefront path and driving on the street. It's cooler and quieter.