Road to Nowhere

The nice thing about training is it gives you a road.

A weekly schedule of workouts. Strength exercises, track interval runs and long runs.

The road's clearly marked for the number of months you'll follow it until race day.

You don't question the road, rather just follow it on the journey it's taking you.

When it's raining on the road, you run in the rain.

You continue on the road until your run ends that day.

Many times you're doubling back on the part of the road you've just came from to get back home.

But what happens when the road ends? Not literally, but the training road.

Where do you go then?

Some of us take shelter in our home gym, athletic clubs, yoga studios, and cross fit centers to mix it up the training regime.

Some move on to the next road. A recovery schedule to prep for their next race.

Then there's the unmentionables. The ones that just stop.

I've met a few people like this. They run the marathon and stop running the minute their feet cross the finish like for months.

My post marathon training program hasn't been the best road I've ever been on. Mostly because instead of being on a rigid, clearly marked highway, I'm instead stuck on a windy road in the country that keeps changing names and direction. I may be running (read a lot) less than recent years' comparison, but I continue to enjoy the yoga studio and look forward to future success there.

Now where are my running shoes?

Fearless

Remember when you were fearless?

You know, when you were a kid and you were willing to try things without worrying about the consequences?

Back before fashion woes, make up, or attraction to the opposite sex?

Before you were concerned about falling, a potential of hurting yourself or failing?

Can you think of a moment?

I found myself going back to middle school last night as I stared down an unassuming white wall in a yoga studio. Our instructor went over the set up for a handstand as I tried to reason with myself.

My first reaction was fear, and with it came anxiety and less confidence and physical stability. We were being asked to stay in the moment as we're tasked to do in yoga. Instead I went back there. Into the Rolodex of my memory to my last handstand. Where was I the last time I did a handstand? The truth is, I probably don't remember the very last handstand I did. It was probably something unassuming as a youth. Little did I know it would be my last one. I don't think any of us think that way as kids though.

What I did remember was doing handstands against the bookcase in my parents family room.

So I stood there staring down the wall and asking myself 'How did I used to do this?'

Then I tried. The worst that could happen was to fall and take out the girl next to me. That wouldn't be ideal, but I should proceed with that risk rather than watch others succeed because they were less fearful than me.

I tried a dozen or so times until I finally got the right momentum to get both legs up. Once I did it, I was able to hold myself there. I wondered, how tall was I the last time I did this? How much did I weigh? Most importantly, why did I stop doing this? This is fun. Certainly more fun than sitting on a couch or in an office chair. Why wouldn't I still be doing this?

Photo credit: crazybreather.blogspot.com

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.

Channeling My Inner Gymnast

I fondly remember watching the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, Korea. The air or re-air time was such that I could watch some of the gymnastics coverage while eating breakfast. I recall tumbling in the living room imagining I was there, even though I had no idea where Korea was.

After my connection with gymnastics and Korea over those few weeks, I asked my parents if I could take gymnastics. The following summer, I found myself in the gym of what would one day be my high school, learning the basics of gymnastics. I loved it.

Tumbling was fun. You could flip and turn, land on the floor spring board and pop right back up. You could pretend you were competing in the Olympics with your hair in a high pony tail and a glittery outfit. You could watch others complete a move then try yourself without fear of failure. I vividly remember practicing vaults over and over again while the radio (does anyone remember the radio station Z95?) played Rick Astley and other great artist of the late '80's. Keep in mind I was 8.

When the summer session ended, I went to Gym Kena in...wait for it... Mokena. Truthfully, I can't remember how long I continued to train. Maybe a year.

At this point in my life, I was already the tallest girl in my class and going through another growth spurt. At 9, I was easily an inch or two over 5' and wearing a size 9 shoe. Right around this time is when I started getting asked if I played basketball and/or volleyball. Little did I know those questions would never end. I remember a male and female instructor at the gym. I was as tall as the woman already.

Towards the end of the last class of the session, I remember one of them pulling me to the side and telling me in a very nice way that I was not cut out for gymnastics. I'm sure there was some sort of basketball mention made as a way to segway the conversation into what could be assumed was my athletic future.

Fast forward to last winter when I picked up yoga again at the first studio. I'd practiced yoga at my gym in the mid 2000's, but now I was practicing with some advanced instructors and students. Inversions were not an if, but a when in each session. Imagine my delight when the wheel pose was mentioned towards the end of class. Why yes, I remember doing this in gymnastics, and in fact, I could still do it. Yoga breakthrough.

Since then, I've been trying to channel my inner gymnast. Some poses I recall doing when I was younger. Can I still do them? Just like when I was a kid, I should feel free to attempt in yoga practice without judgement/fear of failure.

When I can get in this mindset, I find I can push through any preconceived notions of what I should or shouldn't be able to do. It was through this thinking that I was able to do a headstand recently in practice. I'd had a stressful day at work, but in that moment, I was 8 again, listening to Rick Astley and loving life.

North Shore Runners

There aren't many Saturdays in January that reach 50 degrees. When you get one, you have to capitalize on it. With the F^3 Lake Half Marathon just two weeks away, I had a good distance planned for this weekend. This morning I ran 10 miles through the communities of Wilmette, Kenilworth, Winnetka and Glencoe.

Running through the North Shore is so different than running in the City. First you have the obvious differences. The streetlights are fewer and further apart. The sidewalks are wider. There's fewer high rises and more lawns.

Bikes and cars mix here and with no honking or yelling. Drivers seem to be more aware of runners. They yield to runners in cross walks. They look for us as they pull up to an intersection and let us cross in front of them. Sometimes they even back up to allow you the right of way before crossing the street. This behavior is mind blowing when you're used to playing frogger further south on Sheridan Road.

The thing that throws me any time I run here is what I'd like to all the runner's code of the North Shore. In the city, you may smile or nod at a fellow runner, especially if it's at a time or off season. But you wouldn't do this to every runner or any person you pass by. You wouldn't feel compelled to extend your contact with a greeting like "Good morning" or "How are you?"

But this morning, on my run, I heard this type of chatter. It's nice. Which made me wonder, why is it we don't do this in the City? Is it because we're too busy or don't want to be friendly? Maybe it's because we're scared. Maybe we're trying not to stand out.

Over the years as my contacts in the Chicago running community has grown, I do see us out there. On Friday I ran into George down around the Chicago Yacht Club. We were both a good five miles or more from home. I see George often. Which makes me wonder, how many times had I saw George before I met him?

Maybe if we had been greeting each other all along, we would have remembered each other's faces and started talking sooner. But we wouldn't want to seem creepy doing that in the City, would we?

The First Few Steps...

It's on rainy, dark days like this week that I truly appreciate Pinterest. From time to time, the social networking site which focuses on million dollar room remodels, outlandish vacations and all-too-perfect deserts has sucked me in. But within this time I've built a pretty awesome "Fitness and Motivation" Board.

The images I've included here are part of the build. They focus on the getting a move on to start a run and the sense of accomplishment at the end.

Oh summer, how I remember you with your warmth and 12+ hours of sunlight. Waking up early to run before work was easy. Now in the dark depths of winter, I need a little motivation to keep on moving.

I ran a 10 mile training run for the F^3 Lake Half Marathon last Sunday. I waited until later in the afternoon when the day's temperature was at it's peak (feels like 26 is what my weather app said as I left the house).

I'd put on my gear a good hour before I left. I had to really work to talk myself into doing this run. I had a few good excuses going like 'I've been sick' and 'I don't really have to do 10 miles today.'

Finally I left the house. The first few blocks around Loyola aren't my favorite. Truthfully, the first mile usually isn't great. But by the time I'm closing in on two miles, my body has warmed up and I feel good. 2 mile Laura is happy to be out and in this run for the long haul. Whatever the assignment may be today. But man, 2 block Laura or even 2 step Laura for that matter, was not sharing in the 2 mile presence of mind.

Amazing how a few thousand steps can change your outlook.

Finding The [Right Yoga] Mat

I reintroduced yoga into my weekly life about a year ago. 

I picked up my yoga mat, a towel and water bottle and headed to practice. Practice was a challenge, and with the challenge, came sweat. Sweat produced sliding and waterpark noises in the studio.

 It didn't take many practices before I realized I needed to up my gear. 

When I started running, I bought a pair of shoes at Kohl's and hit the road. It wasn't too long after that I was advised to try a specialty running store for real running shoes. Once I went through the shoe fitting process and loved the product, I was sold. Why would anyone not purchase running shoes this way?

After a few practices I visited my friends Google and Amazon. Surely a new yoga mat, being a simple piece of rubber, could be purchased through these sources, right? As I read I discovered there was so much I didn't know about yoga mats. I read testimonials from men and women swearing by one product over the other. Long mats, super cushioned mats. $10 mats, $100 mats.

After enough research to make my head spin, I decided to visit a Lululemon. We walked in and were helped immediately. I explained my predicament. The girl helping me was great. She thought The Mat would be perfect for me.

I checked out with The Mat in a cute bag and went along my way.

I'd read that The Mat had a horrible smell that took time to air out. I was prepared for it to smell like a tire factory - not that bad. The level of cushioning is supreme compared to any other mat I've used. Though with this superior cushioning comes weight, so weaklings may not want to tote it around.

Now onto the first practice with The Mat. A nice, warm vinyasa flow class. Sweat was eminent within the first five minutes and would continue for a solid hour. As advised, The Mat wicked sweat away from the surface. It provided a thicker cushion for my knees in poses where I would have doubled up my old mat. I found it comfortable to lay on during final relaxation pose.

I do wish The Mat was slightly longer. I'm over 6' and sometimes find myself adjusting poses to keep all points of contact on the mat.

But overall, I think it's a great product and recommend it to the big yoga sweaters out there.

Making Fuel with Fire

In order to train, we need to eat. In order to eat, sometimes we need to cook.

Though my last name may mean Cook in German, It couldn't be further from my culinary abilities.

To say it simply, I can't cook.

When I left for college, I could make one hot meal. Kraft Mac & Cheese. This meal, though low in nutritional value, was a staple in my diet for years.

My friends and family seemed to think that once I was out on my own I would learn to cook. That didn't happen. I had a college roommate who loved cooking and hated cleaning. We made a deal. And with that deal, I was never hungry. That is, until he graduated.

I graduated and moved back in with my parents. My mom cooked some evenings. Other evenings we went out.

Then I moved out. On my own. Maybe then I'd finally venture into cooking. In the last six or so years, I have tried my hand at a few things - lasagna, dips for parties, lemon chicken. But never caught the cooking bug.

Then Dave moved in. Not only is Dave good at cooking, but he finds it relaxing. He makes dishes without measurements or recipes. He says he enjoys 'winging it.' Whereas i prefer the timetables and precise measurements of baking.

While I was taking wood shop and drafting in high school, Dave was taking foods class. I think this explains a lot.

So it was to great surprise that I came home from work last week and decided to make dinner. Now let's use the dinner term loosely here. I thought of pizza bagels. So I asked Siri (cause as you can now tell, I need help) and together, we made something that looked edible.

Maybe there is hope. Though I'm not ready just yet to say 2013 will be the year of cooking.

Refocus

Part of training is being honest with yourself.

Even the most disciplined person can fall off the wagon. Or, at least partially.

I had a great marathon this year. There were times in training this year where I was beginning to feel burnt out. I've focused on running as the main form of training for about 7 years now. That's a lot of time. A few injury periods may have put me on the bike or in the pool for awhile, but shortly after the all clear came from the doctor, I've been back at it.

So I decided to dial down the running focus on training. Some parts of that process were quite easy. Like the not running part. Some parts were difficult. Like attempting to adjust the food intake and missing out on some mild late fall days to run.

I'd read a few articles on changing up training in the winter. It seemed great in theory. Truthfully, it's been a slippery slope. So much so that it's now the end of December and I have not blogged once.

I have been running, but it's been less miles and less often. I've been very picky about when and where I've run. There are mornings where I've woken up, looked outside, and decided to not put on my running shoes. I have missed beautiful days to run by not setting a lunch date to do it.

I'm sharing this because I think it's important that I own up to my current state and refocus on my training for the F^3 Lake Half Marathon (in less than four weeks) and then on to a spring half marathon most likely.

Though The path I've been on over the last month hasn't been the training straight and arrow, I can say that I have enjoyed some of my shorter runs lately. I head out and don't worry about time or pace. I take the time to find good music.

Shortly after starting, I am happy I'm out there, running in the winter in Chicago. When I finish I feel accomplished and know I can get back on the right track.

So with all the New Years resolutions out there, I guess I'll add one to the pile - in 2013, I will fall back in love with running.

[No So] Perfect 10

Last year was the Chicago Perfect 10's first year.

It was held on the same weekend this year.

Brian and I started on Saturday being just a month out from running the marathon. Just like last year.

Yet this year, for some reason, it didn't start out like last year's race.

Very early on in this race I had a feeling we wouldn't be pulling the 9:40 average we had last year.

Talk about starting the race off on the wrong foot.

I think Brian could have left me in the dust many miles before the finish. But he didn't, because, well, that's not Brian's style usually.

As we ran, we discussed why today's effort (though it wasn't exactly over yet, was it?) wasn't going to compare to last year.

The number one reason being that neither of our drank three the night before. We did what? What were we thinking? We spent all of last winter and spring testing this groundbreaking hypothesis and conducting hours of self analysis. Yet we throw it out the window and have just one drink the night before the Perfect 10? Honestly, what were thinking?

And for some reason that paragraph reads as a script for a political ad. Farewell, election season, farewell. 

I've had some tightness and strain in my right calf ever since the 20 miler in September. I nursed it along and ran through a dull pain during the marathon. I said that afterwards I would do what I always read about - give my body a break from running. That theory lasted three days. I somehow manage to forget that it's been bothering me until I warm up around a mile and some change, then wham, it's throbbing.

But for some reason, during the Perfect 10, I didn't have any pain. I was hopeful that I could chalk up this slow and average run turning a corner on recovery. That was, until today when I ran and had another flare up.

PT, looks like you're getting a call. Soon.

Fall Back to Dark Runs

Last weekend we changed the clocks and 'fell back' an hour.

The hours of daylight are growing shorter each day as we approach winter solistice.

By 5pm, the sun has left the sky.

I change into my running gear which includes a long sleeve shirt, capri's and gloves.

Somehow at night, the city seems quieter.

A few cyclists pass along the lakefront path with their bright lights.

I see a handful of runners on my 4 mile run.


The marathon seems much longer than a month ago.

I run based on comfort, rarely looking at my watch.

Tonight I'm grateful for the stress relief running provides.

Creating a [Marathon] Monster

A few days after the marathon, I talked to Doug.

Doug is a friend of mine who ran the marathon for the first time this year.

He completed the race with an amazing time of 4:34.

We were on the phone for some time.

He went over each section of the race, giving me the play by play I wanted to hear.

As he talked about the last few miles, I could tell he was disappointed and asked why.

"Well, because I had muscle cramping and had to walk." He said.

I told Doug I understood his frustration, but I also wanted him to bask in his newly found marathon glory. He finished a marathon! Regardless of what his pace or overall time was, he should be happy.

Doug paused for a minute, and then said "So, I've decided I have to do it again." to which brought a smile to my face.

I've created a marathon monster. I can think of nothing better than to bring someone else into and share the love, glory and pain of this sport.

Then Doug reminded me of the last few summers as we've run together. During our runs, the topic of the marathon would come up. I would encourage Doug to sign up the following year. I argued that he was a strong runner. I knew he could do it if he trained for it.

In the last few moments of our conversation this week, Doug commented that I was right. - He could do it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce Doug, the marathon runner.

Marathon Joy

Crossing the finish line of a marathon is an emotional experience.

The best way to describe it is an overwhelming sense of joy.

Like the sense of joy when you've done something very thoughtful for or helped a friend.

But this time, it's something you've done for yourself.

It's not like buying your self a gift. Or graduating college. It's nothing like that, actually.

At some point in our lives, we've all thought the marathon was impossible. Over the many months of training and just a few hours of running, you've made the impossible a reality.

Complete joy.

Suddenly nothing seems impossible.

Ok, maybe an Ironman does. At least for now

Chicago Marathon 2012

Sunday morning arrives. The sun has not yet risen.

I rise to put on my carefully laid out outfit, adding a layer of bodyglide with each article of clothing.

I eat the same breakfast I have every morning - maple brown sugar oatmeal, flax seed and milk.

I run over the race day checklist, carefully checking that each item has been placed into the partcipant bag.

This year, thanks to the cool weather, I am wearing pants, gloves, arm warmers and my Team Universal Sole warm up jacket as I walk out the door.

The streets are quiet. I'm reminded of my very early morning runs in the heat of summer around this time. A wait a few minutes, then board the bus.

Jeff, Brian and I have planned to meet at the Congress Hotel (which on race day functions as the CARA compound) just before 7am.

We meet inside the hotel among the bus of hundreds of CARA shoetag wearing runners.

The line for the bathroom is long, so we head to a special set of porta potties for CARA members in Grant Park. Porta Potties are a hot commodity on race day, and CARA knows all too well what it's runners need!

We drop off our bags at gear check, pack our Gus into our compartmentalized shorts, grab a cup of water and head to our corral.

This year the marathon is using a wave start format. Each runner is placed in a corral based on a past race time (for the faster runners) or estimated finish time (for the average to slower runners). We are in wave 2 which starts at 8am.

As we stand in the corral, I think about how lucky I am to be not sick (like last year) and not injured (like the year before). The three of us make fun of the music being played (Bruce Springsteen's 'Born to Run' pumps people up to run? We don't get it)and talk about the aide station strategy and other miscellaneous small talk as we wait.

We cannot see the start line from where we stand. 7:30, the start time of the first wave, comes and goes. Slowly, the mass of people moves north. We step over piles of clothes and water bottles. Then, in the distance, we see it. The red arch that is the start line.

We cross the start line and start our watches. We're nervous, but excited to get started. We want to warm up and get this show on the road.  The weather is great. Cool with a slight breeze.

Jeff presents a new fact at each mile. Brian and I follow with a comment to Jeff's fact. The only one I remember now is that we all talked about prom. Just goes to show that while running, you talk about everything but.

Jeff and I both have our names taped onto our shirts. People cheer for one of us or both of us. It's encouraging to hear random spectators cheer your name.

As we reached Wrigleyville, Brian decided to slow down a bit and saw us off. Jeff and I both ran in to family and friends around Addison. No matter where family and friends may be on the course, it always proves to be a huge boost to my morale. Instead of the race being about miles to go, it's how far until I see my Mom, or my Dad and brother, or Kim.

We work further south and I see my friend Maggie who's out today, a few months pregnant, with her husband Mike. I look for her on the steps of the Lakeview Athletic Club, but then see them standing on chairs just south of the club by a Jimmy John's. I'm happy to have spotted them.

As we work our way back through the loop and then head west, Jeff and I talk about how we feel. We're approaching the half marathon mark and we both feel pretty good. We thank the cool and overcast weather for letting us conserve much of the energy we're usually using at this point. As we hit 13.1, Jeff comments that we're on pace to run a 4:24. I try not to think about that number. A lot can happen in the next 13.1 miles. But as we continued on through the high teens, we seemed to keep a great pace. Maybe that time wasn't out of reach.

We traveled through the party zone that is Pilsen. Far off the street, I saw two tall men dressed in a combination of Carhardt and camo. They both held Dunkin' Donuts cups in their hands. That had to be my Dad and Dan. I waved and they smiled and waved back. Jeff and I checked in with each other, yep, still feeling pretty good.

Soon 20 miles came in to view. It was around this time that we began making motivating comments to each other. We were both impressed with each other's efforts. Today was (probably) going to be a PR for both of us.

Kim met us around Archer. She's a great coach. She was happy to see we were together and keeping a good pace. We worked our way through Chinatown and Bridgeport.

As we crossed the 33rd street bridge, I saw my Mom, Dave and Sara, then Tricia and Jim not long after. Tricia jumped in with me for a few minutes. She asked how I was feeling, then said I looked great.

Now it was just a matter of finishing the last piece of the south before turning north on Michigan. Here's where I truly started to feel the hurt. My body was done with this experience. But my mind was set on that time. How close could we get to it? What would our excuse be if we slowed down now?

Truthfully, I don't find myself on south Michigan Avenue all too often. But when the course takes me to mile 23 of the marathon, I have 23 blocks of it to take on. They are the longest, toughest, 23 blocks of the race. This year, I try not to focus on the numbered cross streets, starting at 35 and going down to 13 before I reach Roosevelt Road.

Jeff had been looking for a porta-potty for most the race now. We really wanted to stay together, so he said he'd only jump out if he found one with no line. As we finally turned north on Michigan, he pointed off to the right. He said I could go on without him. The porta pottys are positioned at the beginning of an aide station, followed by medical, gatorade, then water. Each aide station is a few blocks long. As the race had progressed, we'd gone from running through the aide stations to power walking the portions where we were drinking and running in between, to a slower version of power walking. As Kim and I reached the end of the water, she asked if I was going to start running. I looked back for Jeff. I didn't see him. I decided I would count to 20, then go. As I reached 20, I started shuffling my feet. At that time, Jeff showed up next to me. This made me very happy. Ok, now we can go!

We kept together and kept pushing. All the way until we were staring the Roosevelt bridge in the face. Then we were running over it and turning the corner. There it was. The finish line. As we turned onto Columbus, Jeff looked over to the spectators and raised his hands to encourage cheer. They return with cheers and call our names.

We both had huge smiles on our faces as we crossed the finish line side by side at 4:32:54. A huge PR for both of us. 

Chicago Marathon 2012 was a huge success.

Thanks, Jeff. Thanks, weather.

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 Bus Dancer

(Written with less than a week to go to race day...)

In a city of a few million people, one would think you wouldn't run in to the same person twice. Or not twice a week.

Not me. I run into a guy I affectionately call 'The Bus Dancer.'

I've come to know him for a few reasons.

Whenever he's seated on the bus, he's on his Samsung flip phone. He talks. A lot.

Whenver he is standing, well, I think you can guess what he does. He can't stand still.

Keep in mind that bus is usually pretty full. As in, the standing passengers are close to if not touching each other already.

Yet he moves around. Leaning on one foot and then the other. Changing the hand that grips the bar. Doesn't grip the bar for awhile. Sighs. Looks longingly out onto traffic. The cycle restarts. Sometimes he does some weird stretching.

I try to ignore him when I see him.

However, last night, he was standing right next to me in the vestibule of the bus's back door.  He used the pole he held onto to stretch out his foot, constantly changing his position. Sometimes his position would back into me.

I kept hoping that my stop would come before he stepped on my foot or fell on me.

It would really stink if The Bus Dancer put me on the injury list for the marathon.

Excuses & a Cruddy Run

Not every run is a great one.

Sometimes they're downright terrible.

I'm willing to admit that, because in all honesty, yesterday's three mile run was a downright cruddy run.

I couldn't wait for it to be over.

Even though I felt that way, quite often the challenge lies not in the action of running the distance of the day, but rather in the steps to get you out the door.

Excuses. They're a dangerous thing, aren't they?

Too tired. Too sore. Sick. Not enough time.

Too warm. Too cold. Too windy.

Forgot shoes. Forgot gloves. Forgot socks. Forgot music.

I have a meeting. I have dinner plans. I can't do it today.

There are thousands and thousands.

I think the most dangerous though is the rather passive 'I'll do it later.' I must have spent a collective two hours yesterday thinking about running and a whole 30 minutes doing it.

Which brings me to this: 

Sorta sums up this post.

Running to Yoga

Over the last month, I've been trying to use up the remainder of my class package at Yoga Studio #1. As I had blogged about a few months ago, getting to Yoga Studio #1 is a bit of a challenge.

YS1 is a nice place. If  lived or worked closer to it, I'd be a frequent practitioner there.

Lately, I've been trying to squeeze in a yoga session during lunch. YS1 offers hour long classes at noon which works nicely. Now to getting there. Here's where it's truly faster to ride a bike or run.

Case in point:

To arrive to YS1 about five minutes before class starts, I'd need to board a bus at 11:30. Even though YS1 is just a mile and a half from work.

We had a few beautiful days last week. It was on one of these days that I planned to go to the studio. After looking out my office window and seeing people walking around without a coat or a cloud in the sky, I decided to adjust my yoga transportation strategy.

I would run there.

This makes so much more sense. Why haven't I done this before?

I left work with just my clothes on my back, my work ID and my phone.

I estimated 20 minutes would be plenty of time to go a mile and a half at an easy pace, even if I stopped at every stop light.

I arrived at YS1 with a few minutes to spare. I left my phone, ID and long sleeved t-shirt in a cubby and grabbed a loaner mat.

I walked into the studio to see an instructor I'd had earlier that week. We had talked in class about the marathon. She remembered me. This made me feel better as, upon entrance in to her warm class, delayed sweat from running poured out of me and onto the mat.

While in downward dog during warm up, I looked down to see the loaner Lulu mat was not going to be up to the task of staying a viable yoga mat. Instead, rather quickly, it was becoming a slip and slide.

As we moved through practice, I thought about how truly amazing my new mat, called 'The Mat' from Lululemon is. It's made to handle big yoga sweaters like me.  I also was making an effort to not be obnoxious on the slip and slide.

As we jumped out of downward facing dog to the front of the mat at our hands, the sound of feet slipping on rubber was apparent each time as we moved through sun salutations.

A quick survey of the other women in the room showed that none of them were breaking a sweat. Yet here I was, looking like I just came out of a sauna.

As practice progressed, we moved into balancing positions. I stepped off the slip and slide for that.

Then into seated positions for ab work and binding. Maybe now I would finally stop sweating.

Nah.

As I laid on the mat in final relaxation pose, I felt sweat running down my face from my temples.

Practice concluded. We picked up our mats and props and headed out of the studio. The instructor wished me luck on the race. I wished luck for the future of loaner mat. That poor thing got more than it was bargaining for that afternoon.

The Last Long Run

Friday night we celebrated my Uncle's birthday. He's the one that inspired me to run a marathon.

This weekend is my last long run before the marathon. A measly 8 miles.

Though I normally try to stick to Saturday morning training runs with the exception of vacation or races, 8 miles could wait until Sunday.

I went out after lunch this afternoon. It's so rare that I run on a weekend afternoon. I took notice of everything that seemed out of place.

More traffic on Sheridan. Cars blaring music as they wait in traffic. Kids on bikes. College kids with backpacks, anxiously attending to their smart phones.

Then onto the path where couples were walking together, some dogs ran without leashes, runners passed by and cyclists whizzed by.

A pick up basketball game was in full swing at the court north of Foster. Some visited Foster Avenue beach for what could be the last warm Sunday of the season.

Soccer games were held for all ages with varied field sizes - pint sized for the little tykes and regulation for the adults. A band performed before a game held around Wilson. Groups gathered for barbeques. Kids rode their bikes and ran up Cricket Hill. Mobile ice cream carts strolled by.

I turned around at Irving to head back north. The golf course seemed quiet today. I imagined many would be patrons were busy watching the Ryder Cup.

I took notice of fall colors coming out in the trees' leaves. In some ways, I can't believe I'm at this point in training, week 17, again. Each year these 17 weeks seem to go by faster.

This coming Sunday will be the fifth time I've stood in the start corral for the Chicago Marathon. Though I've done the same race four times so far, each year has been drastically different from the other.

I'm sure this year will be it's own story as well.

Blisters Under Toenails

I've tried to stay away from blogging about the more gruesome aspects of running.

GI issues. Chafing. Blistering.

But truthfully, they're very much part of training. If the car ride up to Great Lakes this past weekend was void of bathroom stories, well, we would have talked a lot less.

One topic of discussion was my toenails. Yum.

I will advise that you not read on if any discussion of feet or toenails grosses you out. 

If it doesn't, and you decide to read on, I would advise to not google 'blisters under toenails' and then click over to images. 

During the marathon last year, I had some foot pain. I think that's relatively normal as your feet swell after hours of continuous activity. What I realized toward the end of the marathon is my big toes hurt the worst. Immediately after the race, I changed into flip flops and headed to the post race party. So much of my body hurt by that point that I was willing to overlook some silly toe pain.

The following day, I got a massage. My toes were still sensitive, but I was willing to chalk it up to inflammation.

By Monday night, I couldn't take it anymore. It hurt to put a sheet over my feet. Socks were out of the question. What was going on? Well, it felt like a blister.

So I googled blisters under your toenails. Do you have any idea what is recommended? Drilling a hole through your toenail to release the pressure. Yeah... there was no way I was doing that.

I examined my toes. I could see the nail was raising off the nail bed a bit. As I pushed down on the nail, I felt pain. At the same time, I saw a sack much like a blister, appear between the nail and the end of the toe. Ah ha. Now I had a strategy. I sterilized a needle and went to the problem area.

On contact, I achieved the desired effect. Pressure was relieved.

I repeated the process a few times over the next two days until all pressure was gone.

Many months later, one of my toenails fell off. No big deal. It had happened before. It's likely to happen again.

I continued to train through the winter, spring and summer with no issues.

That is, until the 20 miler.

I seem to be back at the beginning.

Oh well, at least I know what to do.

Fort2Base

Last year, Fort2Base is what I'd consider a breakthrough race in a series of fall PR's.

I have fond memories of my experience in 2011, some had to do with running and other have to do with the significance of the race. The 2011 race was held on September 11th, and just in case that wasn't enough to get me teary eyed, my brother was stationed in Afghanistan at the time. I decided to dedicate the race to him.

Fort2Base is a point to point race from Fort Sheridan to Great Lakes Naval Base. Distances for the race are measured in nautical miles (that's 1.15078 miles for us land dwellers). There's a 10 and 3 nautical mile option. The 10 nautical mile race starts in a large loop on the streets of Fort Sheridan and then merges onto Green Bay Trail. This race has generous shade which is always a plus! Around mile 8, runners exit the trail and onto the sidewalk surrounding the base.

Entering the base is emotional for me. I think of all the people who call and have called Great Lakes home. I remember the time I drove my brother to the hospital there to see a doctor one time when he was on leave. I think of my family and friends who have served. I wonder if I can ever put in to words how grateful I am for their service.

This year's Fort2Base started out early with a 3:30 am alarm.

Jeff and Kim would swing by at 4 am to pick me up, then we were off to grab Jen and Sara.

As we drove through Wrigleyville, we saw people just leaving the bars. We were early risers this morning (can you call waking up in the 3am hour an early riser?) instead of night owls.

We made great time up to Great Lakes. Being that it was so early in the morning, we navigated with the help of a Garmin and off memory from 2011. We arrived at an entrance gate to Great Lakes and were let in.

From there, we had little direction as to where we were to park. So we drove around. In the dark. On a military base. Until finally one nice soldier said he thought we should exit the base and park in visitor parking. So we followed his advice. We looked over the visitor parking lot to see, well, not that many cars. This couldn't be right.

We were told a bus would be by to pick us up in the parking lot. We saw some other runners who were in the same situation as us, so we waited patiently. After we boarded the bus, we drove over to the medical campus. Here's where everyone else parked (and so much for us reading directions in the packet!). From there, we traveled onto Fort Sheridan.

It was a cool fall morning. Not something we're used to yet. We didn't look forward to handing over our warm clothes to gear check, but hopefully we'd be moving soon.

It didn't take long to warm up once the race started. The cool and overcast weather made running feel effortless. I like this distance. Too bad more races aren't measured in nautical miles.

Once the route took us on to the base, I turned my focus onto "hero hill". I believe it's the steepest hill I've ever run up. In the last mile or so, we turned a corner and were looking at it.

There was nowhere to go but up and the fastest way to get there was to run.

Once we reached the top of the hill, I knew the finish wasn't far. We turned another corner and saw the finish line.

We all finished within a few minutes of each other. We grabbed some post run treats, grabbed our bags and headed to the car.

Fort2Base complete. Next mission : brunch.

Goodbye, Sunshine.

Photo courtesy of Margo Kidd

As training has carried on from the beginning of summer to the end, we gained and then lost hours of sunlight in each day.

A run starting at 5am welcomed a sunrise shortly after it's start in June.

A run finishing by 7am in September sees the sunrise in it's last few moments.

Changing seasons have played a part in cooler temperatures.

The very necessary morning run is now more of a novelty.

Last weekend, following our 20 mile run, we began to taper.

The theory behind tapering is you trim back on mileage to allow your body to recover from the intense part of training and rebuild stronger for peak performance on race day.

Long run distances are cut in half. No more 9 or 10 mile midweek runs.

At this time, after work and lunchtime run sessions return.

It's the calm before the storm. A calm with less light and less running. 

Running in Circles

I don't like running in circles.

Or the sight of tracks.

Every time I see a track, it reminds me of high school. I'm taken back to tennis practice. We did a lot of running. We ran to warm up. We ran drills. Anytime you lost in a practice game, you ran. Anytime you were goofing around, you ran. Each time you had to run, you'd set down your racquet, run through the parking lot, and onto the track. Each time this happened, you knew you were in for a least a half mile.

In our sophomore year, our school built a field house and we had a winter Track team. Since we had spent a lot of time running during summer and fall, my friends and I thought that it made sense to check out what track had to offer.

Which was, of course, even more running. Warm ups, speed work outs, strength conditioning, running over hurdles, running in your approach over the high jump bar. Lots and lots of running.

I drive by my high school and look at the area where the tennis courts were, the parking lot, the field house and the track and I cringe.

So needless to say, I don't spend lots of time doing track work outs.

However, you have those days where it makes the most sense.

Maybe you're pressed for time and need to do a quick, efficient work out.

Maybe your friend Kim A. has convinced you to do a mock Bootcamp class.

Or maybe you're fending off an injury and think the cushy track a few blocks from your place would be a good alternative to hitting the concrete jungle.

On Wednesday, a new pair of shoes arrived at my place. They are the pair of shoes I'll run the marathon in. As a runner, it's awfully hard to resist a new pair of shoes.

Since I was leery about my the inflamed soleus, I took the track approach. An easy jog.

The track by my house is smaller than a quarter mile. I'm grateful to have one so close when I need it, but running around it more than four times for a mile is complete torture. It seems to take forever to get to a mile. I'm already getting bored. I stop a few times along the way to stretch out. I try to focus on my playlist or the college kids playing Frisbee. I finally hit three miles and head home.

Hopefully tomorrow I can go back on the road.

Hello, Soleus

The 20 miler is a lot of things.

Kind isn't one of them.

You can be at the starting line seemingly injury free, yet manage to tweak something in that long journey to the finish.

I've strained my calf before. I've had an inflamed achilles tendon as well.

This time the issue was the soleus. Do you know about the soleus? I certainly didn't.

I've never taken an anatomy class, but I'm pretty sure I can outline every muscle in the legs after distance running for the last seven or so years.

Post 20 mile run, I got a lower leg massage and followed up with RICE (rest, ice, compression and elevation) over the next few days.

Though there was a bit of swelling, the RICE method seemed to do me some good.

Two days of rest followed by a new pair of running shoes arriving in the mail.

Now you know I can't resist breaking them in...

20 Mile Prep

Every marathoner does at least one twenty mile training run.

Some of us do multiples.

For most, this is your furthest and therefore, at least on paper, your most difficult run.

The 20 miler is the peak of your training. Once you finish this run, your taper officially begins.

We are told to treat the 20 miler as practice for the race. This is an opportunity to test your outfit, your pre-race breakfast and dinner the night before, hydrating, suspect chafing...and the list goes on.

What you realize as you prepare for your 20 miler is how intricate a process running has become.

Remember when you used to go out on a run in shoes you bought at Kohl's and soccer shorts? Ah, those carefree days. When you didn't worry about how far or fast you were going. Before you knew what Gu was. When you wore (gasp) cotton socks.

Those days are long gone.

Now, the night before a 20 miler, I'm running through my long run checklist:

• Outfit, socks, hat and shoes
• In-run nutrition
• In-run hydration
• Storage for nutrition and hydration
• Music (just in case)
• A contingency plan for if I get in to trouble (house key along with a phone, cash or CTA card)

The 20 miler I did this year was an organized training run that was a point to point along the Lakefront path. We started at Wilson, went north to about Bryn Mawr, then headed south to around 63rd Street. I completed this training run with a few of my close friends and about 2000 other people. There was a party at the finish complete with massages, food, beer and most importantly, my gear check bag with a pair of flip flops in it.

Doug: Tale of a First Timer

I remember meeting Doug on a late night in December of 2004. That's when he woke me up on the Metra right before the train was about to leave my suburban station. Doug worked on my Metra line. Doug was a life saver that night.

Over the next few years, I would see Doug working on my rush hour evening train. There are many unexplained myths of the Metra. One being as to why people have to stand in the vestibule for stops before they plan on getting off the train. (You're on the comfortable Metra that doesn't smell like pee, why wouldn't you want to stay in your seat?) But regardless, people do this. And when they're participating in this weird activity, they often talk to Doug.

Doug was in a one man battle against all the Sox fans the year the Sox won the World Series. One man battles are hard, especially when you work on a train that's going through the southwest side of the City and burbs. I joined Doug's team at one point, and from there, we talked about many random things, including running.

I'd caught the running bug by this time, but a marathon was still on the horizon. Doug seemed interested in taking on the marathon as well. I recall at one point I'd printed out a training schedule for both of us. We both liked the idea in premise, but neither of us executed...that year.

Soon after, I moved to the city and traded in the Metra for the Red Line.

In the following years, as I was training for the marathon, there were a few times where Doug and I met up for a run. I encouraged him to sign up the next year.

It wasn't until I received an email from Doug regarding marathon fundraising that I knew for sure he had signed up. 2012 was going to be his year. We emailed a bit early on in training. He seemed to be taking it in stride.

Then last week he emailed me saying we needed to talk. He said he was 'freaking out.' We talked one night last week for awhile about his training. He had a lot of questions. Questions that I asked my Uncle Mark the first time I trained for a marathon. Other than a few concerns about heat and what pace he should run, Doug seems to be nailing training. Doug has been training on his own. I give him a lot of credit. Training on your own, especially for your first marathon, is tough. 

As we wrapped up our talk that evening, I told him I was excited for him. This was his first marathon! There's nothing like your first time!

He must think I'm crazy. Crazy excited. For him.

Glen

 For the last few years, between June and September and between the hours of 5am and 6:45am, I run through the intersection of Glenlake & Sheridan two or three times a week.  It is one of the many intersections I run through while making my way to the lakefront path. Overall, I wouldn't consider this intersection particularly memorable. There's high rises and a park nearby. You can see the lake from Sheridan and faintly hear the red line from a few blocks away.

During these early morning runs, I often see my friend Glen. Glen's (the name I've given him, of course) in his 70's. Maybe 80's. He always has a white t-shirt on. He sits on a short wall bordering the sidewalk outside his condo complex. Sometimes his friend, another older guy whom I haven't named, sits with him. More recently he's had a small dog in his company.

I used to see Glen in the mornings at the Loyola track. He would always walk the opposite way I was running. We started saying hi then. Maybe he still goes to the track. I just don't run into him there anymore.

I imagine Glen sees a lot of activity on his stoop each morning. Hundreds of cards flying down Sheridan. The annoying bus announcing itself (this is the 147 Outer Drive Express to...Howard) at the bus stop just in front of his place. The Catholic school kids heading to Sacred Heart up Sheridan and the Jewish kids heading to school down Sheridan. People walking their dogs with retractable leashes. The group Teamsters camping out with their Dunkin' Donuts and their large inflatable rat at a building further south on Sheridan all summer. This is, in essence, Glen's morning world.

Then there's the runners. I'm not sure, truthfully, if Glen says "Hello!" "Good Morning!" or "Have a great day!" to every runner. He may. Or maybe just to the few he has come to recognize over time. Or maybe it's just me.

Either way, I've grown accustomed to looking for Glen. I see him a mile into each run and with a mile remaining. We always greet each other. Over time, I've decided that Glen would probably think something was wrong if I was walking, so I make sure to always run by him. We always smile at each other.

I wonder if he knows he's the first person I talk to on those mornings.

As the hours of sunlight in each day grow shorter and marathon grows closer, I know I have just a few weeks left of seeing Glen. That is, until next year.

Pole Banner Anxiety [They're up...Glup]

How is it possible that 2' x 6' sheets of mesh material hanging throughout the city can make many nervous? When they're branded with the Marathon's theme and you're running the race.

About a month out from race day, the banners appear on Columbus and all around downtown.

Yes, tens of thousands of us committed to run the race on October 7th back in February. But that was a long six months ago.

Since then, we've come out of hibernation and hit the streets. Starting with three milers and increasing to a spring 10 miler.

In early June, we started a marathon training program. We traded in our fun Friday nights to instead rest for a Saturday long run. We woke up early. We ran. We Gu'd. We iced. We showered. We ate. We foam rolled and didn't enjoy a minute of it. We went to work like normal beings. Then the next day, we did it all again.

We started loving Fridays not for going out after work, but for sleeping in until some ungodly hour, like 7am.

Saturday mornings were reserved for logging an ever-increasing number of miles, often followed by brunch with friends.

We talked through all aspects of training with family, friends and coworkers. We talked about everything but running while on a training run.

We gave up our heels for flats. Our frozen vegetables became ice packs.

But now, with the banners up, it all seems real. The Marathon is really going to happen. The city's getting ready for it.

This is what we're training for. It's happening. Soon. Nervously, very soon. [Glup]

The Gatorade Bush

Last weekend was Labor Day weekend. The official last weekend of summer.

My Labor Day weekend usually starts off Saturday morning by running 18 miles. Followed by a lake ice bath, brunch and a nap. By the time I resurface from the nap, it's mid-afternoon.

Kim and I had a music festival we wanted to attend this past weekend. It started Friday night.

Should we go to the show Friday night, leave early, then run our traditional 18 Saturday morning?

Or, if we ran it Friday morning, we could enjoy the show Friday night (not to mention the rest of the weekend) with our run out of the way.

Last Friday, I was up by 4:30 and driving downtown. I parked my car and met Kim just south of the river. She had our course mapped out, we'd split the 18 over the two sides of the river - 9 north and 8 south.

Some of our friends had the same idea. We ran into Ed twice. Jen was out on the lakefront as well. 

Since there were no aide stations on the route that day, she'd come up with a great plan - to stash Gatorade in a bag with some ice, then place under the cover of a bush.

We headed north first to tackle the concrete jungle before the temperature rose.  Four and a half north made for a turn around right by Fullerton. We talked about family, work, traveling and upcoming races. Then we ran back south to the Gatorade bush.

We took a few minute break, re-hydrated, topped off our fuel belts, then headed south. The southern leg of our run provided some shade that we welcomed in the heat. We replenished our water at the new 31st street marina building. It's always nice to find a new water fountain on the lakefront. As the heat rose, we were happy to be finishing our last few miles ending at the Gatorade Bush.

Sleeping with Cats

There's a lot that goes into training besides running.

Hydration. Nutrition. Gear. Fuel. Stretching. Cross Training. Body Glide.

Even the dreaded foam roller.

What's the most important component of training? It's the one I've yet to mention - sleep.

Sleep in the evening. More sleep than normal as training progresses. 

Sleep after a long run and a big brunch.

Sleep (rather tactfully) on the bus.

Sleep in the car.

Sleep on my parent's couch.

Sleeping when you don't intend to - Like when you sit down to go through your mail and wake up to Wheel of Fortune's bonus round and two cats in your lap.

And it's not even 7 pm.

Choosing a side of the fence

Yesterday I had lunch with a coworker.

We sat outside, under a tree by the water, enjoying the summer day. It's hard to believe we're coming up on Labor Day weekend.

She asked if I had plans to retire from the Marathon.

I'd given some thought to my plans for 2012. Maybe I'd take a year off. Or run a marathon somewhere else.

Ultimately, the decision was made the evening after registration opened, February 2nd.

I told Dave a record number of people had signed up in the first day. The Marathon was expected to sell out in just a few days. I told him I was still thinking about it.

Then Dave asked me a question - Can you stand the thought of being on the other side of the fence this year (as a spectator)?

I really enjoy watching the marathon. It's a thrill. I wish I could run it and watch it. But truthfully, no, I'm not ready to say goodbye to running it. Not just yet.

I checked the Marathon's website last night. The home page has an up-to-date countdown to race time. 40 days.

2012 will be number five, yet the thought of running one in 40 days makes my stomach churn.

Organic Peas

After a Saturday long run, I try to limit the places I go. I smell and I'm sore. I need a shower, some food, compression socks and bed.

But a few weekends ago, I found myself close to a Trader Joe's after brunching with friends. I decided to run in and grab a few things we'd had on our list.

Side note: TJ's Joe Joe's (their version of the Oreo) is amazing. Yep, I said it...and it comes in ice cream.

As I walked down the frozen food aisle, I came across a bag of frozen peas. My mind switched out of grocery shopping mode and into training mode. Frozen peas is the perfect food ice pack. I threw a bag in the cart.

I used my new found ice pack over the next few Saturdays. It worked perfectly.

Then last Saturday, Dave noticed them in the freezer. He mentioned wanting to eat them.

Since I'm pretty sure the contents are no longer safe for anyone to eat, I suggested we not eat that bag. I explained what their purpose was.

He looked at me and said 'And you needed organic peas for this?' 

Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon

Over last winter, Brian brought up a great destination race - The Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon.

We discussed among friends. When registration opened, Brian was the only one who registered. The race sold out in a few hours. A few months went by. After some research and good luck, I found Rudi. Rudi had signed up to run the race but wouldn't be able to make it. Suddenly I had an entry. I was heading to wine country in July.

Brian and I joked about our perceived success for this race. Was it realistic to think you're going to PR when encircled with wine? We decided going in to the race that we'd have PW (personal worsts) for the distance. This race would be more for fun and the experience than racing to race.

In the weeks leading up to the race, Brian planned out our schedule - we would spend a few days in San Francisco where we'd eat some incredible food, see some sights, eat some more food, and then have drinks. After we'd covered all that was San Francisco, we'd head to wine country.  We'd spend Saturday at the expo, touring some vineyards, then getting a good night's sleep before the race on Sunday.

San Francisco went pretty much as planned. Wine Country was flying by the seat of our pants.

We checked in at our hotel and headed to the expo. Small race equals a small expo, so we were out of there in about twenty minutes. Now on to wine. We arrive at our first vineyard. What was to be a two hour experience turned into the rest of our day. After making friends with the ladies serving us, they offered us concert tickets to see Five for Fighting at the Robert Mondavi Winery. It sounded like an experience we couldn't pass up. We canceled our dinner plans and headed over to the concert. The concert's set up was a lot like Ravinia, but in a vineyard. Which, of course, meant more wine. We left the concert before the end and make a stop at a store like Target to get some race day essentials. Back at the hotel, we had a late night snack with some gatorade, then on to bed...after one a.m.

A few short hours later, our alarms went off. We drove over to a hotel in Napa to board a bus to the start line. The Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon is a point to point race which starts, of course, in a vineyard. On the bus ride, we went over our evening before. Maybe we had hit the nail on the head when setting ourselves up for a PW in this race.

The race started by climbing a rather large hill. This caused concern as to what lay ahead, but by then we were running and committed.

All joking aside, the Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon ended up being a great race for both of us. The field was around 2500 runners. How doesn't love a point to point race format? At the last aide station, sips of wine were handed out in addition to the standard gatorade and water. The race was quiet and scenic with beautiful rolling hills. As we ran into Sonoma Plaza, the crowd grew as we closed in on the finish line.

After crossing the finish line, we were handed a wine glass and walked into a wine festival. Would you expect anything else from this trip?

A Newbie's Guide to Gear

Have you ever wondered how it's possible for a race as large as the Chicago Marathon to sell out in just a few days?

I know how. Peer pressure.

Though I'd hope that talking someone in to signing up for a marathon is good peer pressure (as opposed to the negative peer pressure your parents warn you about in your pre-teen years).

Peer pressure is alive and well in my workplace. Earlier this year, I convinced a co-worker to sign up for the Chicago Marathon.

As training demands more of us in the later part of July, there are questions.

The same questions I asked Mark the first time I trained for a marathon. He always had good answers, too.

Over time, my friends and I have transitioned from asking questions to answering the questions. Though we certainly don't know it all, we enjoy helping newbies out. There's an excitement to living vicariously through someone else as they train for their first.

Earlier this week I was asked "Where do you get your gear?"

Seems like a simple enough question, right? I didn't have a simple answer.

Endurance athletes can't walk into their local Wal-Mart and walk out with everything they need. (This scenario doesn't work for a variety of reasons, most importantly being that Wal-Mart only sells complete crap. I could go on, but I'll spare you.) Instead, you find yourself on a scavenger hunt for good gear, based on recommendations by other runners and online reviews.


I wrote down a hit list on a large post-it note and handed it off:

_______________

Shorts & Shirts: Nordstrom Rack, Marshalls, Nike Outlet or a speciality running store. Try a variety of moisture wicking material cuts. Determine your favorite and buy more.

Socks: Buy a variety of pairs a running store recommends. Test them out, then by a small collection of your favorite online.

Shoes: Get fitted at a REAL running store. If you love the shoes they've put you in, continue to buy them. (Don't mess with what works unless the shoe model changes or you find something better.)

Nutrition: REI.com If you're looking to buy 12+ Gus and the like, you get 20% off and free shipping to their stores. They have a wide selection to pick from which will let you test out different brands, flavors, consistencies.

Miscellaneous gear: Fuel belt or the like, Body Glide, a foam roller. Talk with friends to gather their options. Test out items and purchase at a running store or if you know it's a sure thing, buy online.

_________________

Six years of distance running gear advice fit onto a post-it. Not bad, I guess.

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.

Training for the [5th] Marathon

Marathon training officially began the week of June 4th.

I'd missed the CARA Super Clinic the weekend before and was preparing for Ragnar. Instead, I showed up to Montrose Harbor for the second week's long run on June 16th. I recognized a lot of faces, but was happy to see Jeff was back and running in the 10 minute group with me.

We finally took the leap into the 10 minute group.

The first few weeks have been hot, but overall good. We talked with a few people last week who are training for their first marathon. We tried to be encouraging and not tell too many war stories (though we stressed the importance of running Cricket Hill).

The weekday runs have been short and sweet - just three or four miles. 

This Saturday is week 5 and our first double digit long run.

Last week someone said we're a 1/3 of the way through training already.

Sounds about right, though it's hard to believe it's gone by so fast.

Very Hot Yoga

Yoga Studio #2 is shaping up to be a great place.

Sara and I have taken a variety of classes here, including a forest inspired class, power flow, vinyasa and hot yoga. The instructors and class sizes have been great.

I'd been meaning to try Hot Yoga for some time. The reason I haven't doesn't have anything to do with Yoga Studio complications, but rather to do with something personal. Sweat.

I have reason to believe I sweat more than the average woman.

I've done my fair share of vinyasa. I find myself, a few minutes into class, staring at my shins in downward facing dog watching sweat cascade down onto the tops of my feet. Then onto my mat.

Now my mat's getting sweaty so my feet and hands slide.

Halfway into class I'm using a towel to keep a firm grip on my mat. I'm the only one doing this. Ok, maybe there's one guy too.

As we began taking classes at studio #2, I mentioned my theory to Sara. We tend to take classes together, so over time, it's become a running joke.

One teacher tells us to 'recall our intentions' for the practice as we hold a difficult pose. One day, I looked to Sara and said my intention was to get Jimmy John's after practice. Last week, I had visions of a Portillo's shake. I'm positive we're not supposed to be thinking of food as we focus on our practice.

Somewhere between the sweat and fast food cravings, I'm pretty sure we're experiencing some good yoga sessions.

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.

[I Finally Did The] Soldier Field 10

The Soldier Field 10 is the only race I've ever signed up for and not done. Twice.

The first time was 2007 when I was a distance newbie. I over trained and found myself with a hamstring injury that sidelined running for six weeks.

The following year I was out of town for a wedding.

Soldier Field seemed like bad luck for racing. That is, until this year.

Kim A. sent an email out over winter suggesting we sign up for the race before the registration price went up. Sounded like a good idea.

After a great Chicago Spring Half (time wise, not weather wise), the Soldier Field 10 seemed reasonable.

Kim, Karey and I headed south around 6am. We passed Roosevelt and saw traffic backed up on Lake Shore Drive. This was race traffic. We pulled a few classic Chicago driving moves to merge our way onto the 18th street ramp then over to the parking garage.

The parking garage was nearly full on the lower level when we pulled in. As we parked and headed up to the stadium, people parked in the remaining handicapped spots. These people were going to run 10 miles and they choose to park illegally in the closest parking spot? Doesn't seem right to me.

The Soldier Field 10 has a large field. I believe it's somewhere around 10,000 people. The field was divided into sections based on your bib number. The 1000's started first. Followed two minutes later by the 2000's and so on. This process, though it helped with congestion in the first few miles of the race, made for a long waiting process to start. Every few minutes with the start of a new group, a trumpet from Arlington Race Track did the infamous race start call. This got old. Fast.

By the time we crossed the start line, the race clock was closing in on 30 minutes.

Over excited to finally be running and with the wind at our backs, we went out at a more aggressive pace. A few miles in, we decided to pull it back.  The weather was overcast. Dark clouds rolled over us in a passing weather system. We hoped the rains would hold out.

The wind was in our face as we turned back north. Now I was feeling the affects of the faster pace. The wind seemed to take my breath away and I tried to get in a rhythm. As we came up on a water stop, Karey and Kim continued at their pace and I slowed down a bit. Actually, I slowed down a lot. Ok, I walked through the aide station.

And I walked through all the remaining ones as well, with the exception of the last one.

This is a humbling experience for sure. In racing, along with so many other things in life, you have good days and bad days. Sometimes you can equate your bad days to one or a series of actions. Other times you can't. As you get step by step closer to the finish line your mind can fill with these thoughts.

I had looked up my Perfect 10 mile time from last November before the race. I knew what overall pace I needed to maintain in order to tie 1:37. The first half of the race had me out ahead of that pace. if I could maintain my slower pace, but not loose too much ground, maybe it would still be within reach.

Once we reached the stretch of road leading in to the stadium I found that quicker pace again. We can't have far to go now.

After entering the stadium we ran in dark hallways until we saw light at the last turn. It had to be the stadium opening. And it was. Now just to sprint that last 50 yards to the finish. And done.

I catch my breath and look at the spectators in the stands. For a moment I soaked in what it must be like to be a Chicago Bear. I check my watch. It says 1:37.

We'll mark the Soldier Field 10 as a win today.

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.