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.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Friday, September 21, 2012
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...
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
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.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, September 09, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
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.
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?'
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?'
Monday, August 27, 2012
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?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
CARA Lakefront 10
The alarm goes off at 5:30am. I hear rain rapping against my bedroom window. It's overcast and quite gray.
In a few hours, I'll be running the CARA (now with FirstMerit as title sponsor) Lakefront 10.
I get dressed, check the weather and start texting. It's cold and scheduled to rain most the morning. I'm being a whimp. I need to be talked in to this.
After some convincing by Kim S, I grab my bag and umbrella on my way to the car.
I drive down to the start line and find a parking spot. I'm early, just as I like to be the morning of a race.
I sit in my car listening to the radio and watching the rain. My mind wanders and I think "I don't have to do this race. I could just go home and back to bed."
Then I remember the F^3 Lake Half Marathon earlier this year. It was cold and icy then. Or the Chicago Half Marathon in 2008 during the monsoon. I was soaked before reaching the start line. I'd run in worse conditions than today.
I walk to the start area around 7am. The rain has eased up. I'm glad I thought to grab an umbrella and happy to see Joel and Kim are set up under a tent. As we get closer to 8am, the rain stops and we head to the start line.
Kim and I look over the participant pool. This is a small race. It's likely many people whom registered opted to not run this morning on account of the weather.
Shortly after we cross the start line, Jen finds us in the crowd. She'd stayed back at home hoping the weather would break before coming to the race. We laugh and remember many mornings where Jen arrived just in time to start a CARA training run from the same location. Those summer Saturdays will be here before we know it!
We discuss our race strategy. We're out here just to do it today (and hopefully not get rained on...too much). We bob and weave around the northern part of the path, crisscrossing Cricket hill around mile 4. Passing over Cricket hill is not a problem this morning. Come to think of it, I think that's the freshest my legs have ever been going over that small patch of grass between Montrose and Wilson.
The wind plays in our favor, then works against us. I hope that it's direction doesn't change because as things look at the southern most end of the course, we'll get a push back. There's a slight drizzle for a moment or two around mile 7.
I look at my watch around mile 8 and figure I'm averaging a 10 minute mile. I'll take it. I'm not out here to prove anything, right? But then something gets in to me as I reach 9. I grab a cup of water and keep moving through the last aide station.
I pick up the pace heading in to the last mile. For the first half mile or so, I feel pretty good. I can hear the megaphone. I know the finish line is very close. Then I pass a volunteer saying I have a half mile to go. Uh oh, maybe I went out a bit too fast. This is what happens when you don't memorize the course map! Well, I committed to picking it up to the end, so I better just keep going until I'm finished.
I cross the finish line to see Jen standing on the sideline. She finished just a few moments before me. We head to the last turn of the race to cheer Kim to the end. By the time we get in position, she's running past. The wind starts picking up and we decide it's best to head back to the tent and wrap it up for the day.
Thanks Mother Nature. You were a champ today.
In a few hours, I'll be running the CARA (now with FirstMerit as title sponsor) Lakefront 10.
I get dressed, check the weather and start texting. It's cold and scheduled to rain most the morning. I'm being a whimp. I need to be talked in to this.
After some convincing by Kim S, I grab my bag and umbrella on my way to the car.
I drive down to the start line and find a parking spot. I'm early, just as I like to be the morning of a race.
I sit in my car listening to the radio and watching the rain. My mind wanders and I think "I don't have to do this race. I could just go home and back to bed."
Then I remember the F^3 Lake Half Marathon earlier this year. It was cold and icy then. Or the Chicago Half Marathon in 2008 during the monsoon. I was soaked before reaching the start line. I'd run in worse conditions than today.
I walk to the start area around 7am. The rain has eased up. I'm glad I thought to grab an umbrella and happy to see Joel and Kim are set up under a tent. As we get closer to 8am, the rain stops and we head to the start line.
Kim and I look over the participant pool. This is a small race. It's likely many people whom registered opted to not run this morning on account of the weather.
Shortly after we cross the start line, Jen finds us in the crowd. She'd stayed back at home hoping the weather would break before coming to the race. We laugh and remember many mornings where Jen arrived just in time to start a CARA training run from the same location. Those summer Saturdays will be here before we know it!
We discuss our race strategy. We're out here just to do it today (and hopefully not get rained on...too much). We bob and weave around the northern part of the path, crisscrossing Cricket hill around mile 4. Passing over Cricket hill is not a problem this morning. Come to think of it, I think that's the freshest my legs have ever been going over that small patch of grass between Montrose and Wilson.
The wind plays in our favor, then works against us. I hope that it's direction doesn't change because as things look at the southern most end of the course, we'll get a push back. There's a slight drizzle for a moment or two around mile 7.
I look at my watch around mile 8 and figure I'm averaging a 10 minute mile. I'll take it. I'm not out here to prove anything, right? But then something gets in to me as I reach 9. I grab a cup of water and keep moving through the last aide station.
I pick up the pace heading in to the last mile. For the first half mile or so, I feel pretty good. I can hear the megaphone. I know the finish line is very close. Then I pass a volunteer saying I have a half mile to go. Uh oh, maybe I went out a bit too fast. This is what happens when you don't memorize the course map! Well, I committed to picking it up to the end, so I better just keep going until I'm finished.
I cross the finish line to see Jen standing on the sideline. She finished just a few moments before me. We head to the last turn of the race to cheer Kim to the end. By the time we get in position, she's running past. The wind starts picking up and we decide it's best to head back to the tent and wrap it up for the day.
Thanks Mother Nature. You were a champ today.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
Katie Perry, Get Out of My Head
Shortly before the start of the Lakefront 10, Kim and I stood near the start line. As usual, upbeat music was played leading up to the gun going off.
The song of the moment was "Last Friday Night/TGIF" by Katie Perry.
The gun went off. For the next ten miles, my internal soundtrack had been set. Katie Perry. One hour and forty minutes of Katie. That's a lot of Katie.
Friday night was stuck on repeat for some time. Then it shifted from "Teenage Dream" to "California Gurls" then to "Hot and Cold."
Wow, who knew I could sing so much Katie Perry to myself?
It seemed to do the job, so I kept going. Now I was searching for a new Katie song.
I pulled out "I kissed a girl" from the memory bank and saved "Waking up in Vegas" for the home stretch. Which, ironically, started playing as I crossed the finish line
Saturday was a Katie Perry kind of day.
The song of the moment was "Last Friday Night/TGIF" by Katie Perry.
The gun went off. For the next ten miles, my internal soundtrack had been set. Katie Perry. One hour and forty minutes of Katie. That's a lot of Katie.
Friday night was stuck on repeat for some time. Then it shifted from "Teenage Dream" to "California Gurls" then to "Hot and Cold."
Wow, who knew I could sing so much Katie Perry to myself?
It seemed to do the job, so I kept going. Now I was searching for a new Katie song.
I pulled out "I kissed a girl" from the memory bank and saved "Waking up in Vegas" for the home stretch. Which, ironically, started playing as I crossed the finish line
Saturday was a Katie Perry kind of day.
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