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.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
[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.
Monday, April 30, 2012
4 Races in 8 Weeks
While filling in the calendar for April and May a number of weeks ago, I realized I'm running four races in the next eight weeks:
Saturday, April 28th - CARA Lakefront 10 miler
Saturday, May 12th - Chicago Spring Half Marathon
Saturday May 26th - Soldier Field 10 miler
Friday June 8th and Saturday June 9th - Ragnar Relay: Madison to Chicago
In past year's I've done a race in the spring. Not two. Or four.
I guess this is one way to mix things up!
Saturday, April 28th - CARA Lakefront 10 miler
Saturday, May 12th - Chicago Spring Half Marathon
Saturday May 26th - Soldier Field 10 miler
Friday June 8th and Saturday June 9th - Ragnar Relay: Madison to Chicago
In past year's I've done a race in the spring. Not two. Or four.
I guess this is one way to mix things up!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Yoga Studio; Take 2
Last summer I found a yoga studio just a few blocks from my house. They had classes that worked with my schedule. The commute was non-existent. Life was great.
Then the studio announced they were closing their Rogers Park location. They encouraged everyone practicing at Rogers Park to check out their River North location.
Sounded fancy.
In truth, I put off going to the River North location for months, mainly because it's not convenient. When I finally went, it was January and I was wearing Uggs, riding a bus way out west (well, in relation to work) to this studio.
The building was locked down like Fort Knox. On top of that, there's a trick to using the Fort Knox security system - Apparently it's learned over time. So I stood outside cold and frustrated until another woman was able to open the door. Not a good start.
By the time the elevator comes down there's a small pack of us with our yoga mats. We crowd in the elevator. When the elevator doors open up, we're inside the lobby of the studio. The lobby space was quite small, so we shuffle around each other to tuck our belongings away in cubbies before practice. We all have similar jackets and boots. This is going to be a nightmare when we leave.
As we enter the studio, I see that this is going to be a full class. Mats are getting moved closer and closer together. Then I notice a noise - yep, that's the brown line. Just what I wanted to hear while doing yoga.
I debate leaving. Then I decide that my 2' x 6' space in this room is valuable River North real estate I should use over the next 90 minutes. Then the teacher walks in. He's a happy, very chatty fellow. I'm happy to get to know him in the first few minutes of class, but not throughout the entire class where I'm trying to breathe and let go. He seemed to be popular with many in the class, but overall, not for me.
That's ok though. I'm sure there's another instructor there.
So I go again. The bus, the buzzer, the stupid brown line, the cubby, another not-for-me teacher, then the two train ride home.
And once more, since three seems like a better number. By the end the third class, I'm asking why anyone uses public transportation in Chicago as I wait forever for a train at the brown line stop.
This yoga solution seemed like too much work.
And so, like so many, I stopped going out of inconvenience (though I still have a few classes left there).
Until tonight. Tonight is class one at Yoga Studio two. Studio two is also located west, but has parking. Parking eliminates the bus and the train nightmare, so I'm game.
I'm cautiously optimistic that studio 2 is the yoga I've been dreaming of.
Then the studio announced they were closing their Rogers Park location. They encouraged everyone practicing at Rogers Park to check out their River North location.
Sounded fancy.
In truth, I put off going to the River North location for months, mainly because it's not convenient. When I finally went, it was January and I was wearing Uggs, riding a bus way out west (well, in relation to work) to this studio.
The building was locked down like Fort Knox. On top of that, there's a trick to using the Fort Knox security system - Apparently it's learned over time. So I stood outside cold and frustrated until another woman was able to open the door. Not a good start.
By the time the elevator comes down there's a small pack of us with our yoga mats. We crowd in the elevator. When the elevator doors open up, we're inside the lobby of the studio. The lobby space was quite small, so we shuffle around each other to tuck our belongings away in cubbies before practice. We all have similar jackets and boots. This is going to be a nightmare when we leave.
As we enter the studio, I see that this is going to be a full class. Mats are getting moved closer and closer together. Then I notice a noise - yep, that's the brown line. Just what I wanted to hear while doing yoga.
I debate leaving. Then I decide that my 2' x 6' space in this room is valuable River North real estate I should use over the next 90 minutes. Then the teacher walks in. He's a happy, very chatty fellow. I'm happy to get to know him in the first few minutes of class, but not throughout the entire class where I'm trying to breathe and let go. He seemed to be popular with many in the class, but overall, not for me.
That's ok though. I'm sure there's another instructor there.
So I go again. The bus, the buzzer, the stupid brown line, the cubby, another not-for-me teacher, then the two train ride home.
And once more, since three seems like a better number. By the end the third class, I'm asking why anyone uses public transportation in Chicago as I wait forever for a train at the brown line stop.
This yoga solution seemed like too much work.
And so, like so many, I stopped going out of inconvenience (though I still have a few classes left there).
Until tonight. Tonight is class one at Yoga Studio two. Studio two is also located west, but has parking. Parking eliminates the bus and the train nightmare, so I'm game.
I'm cautiously optimistic that studio 2 is the yoga I've been dreaming of.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Damn You, piriformis!
On Good Friday, I woke up early and got my 9 mile long run out of the way.
It was my first run testing out Motorola's Motoactiv. My first test product. Thanks Motorola! I'm not going to blog too much about the device yet as I think it's only fitting I use it many times before writing a fair review. But I will say this - Out of the box, it had music loaded and was ready to go - literally. For some reason, that made me really happy.
Not the best 9 miler of my life. I dressed too warm. I was in a rush.
I got home, showered, threw my bag in the car and started driving south. Far south. Hundreds and hundreds of miles.
Around mile 100 I was feeling a bit stiff. Then it dawned on me. I didn't stretch after my run. I too often forget to do this.
I'd had a stiffness in my hip earlier in the week which I hadn't given enough thought to.
Over the weekend, it throbbed more.
Now the drive back from my southern destination was really the killer. My hip hurt when I drove. Because driving requires use of your hips? Who knew? Either way, not a good sign.
Again, not thinking, I rest on Monday and Tuesday. I reintroduce myself to the foam roller. Do some basic yoga. Then out of boredom, do back to back runs later that next week.
The hip's still not liking me. Now I'm listening.
Advil, ice, rest, try to compress, and yes, foam roller, we're hanging out during the 10 o'clock news.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Shamrock Shuffle 2012
Sunday comes and it's Shuffle time.
Traffic's a bear, though it's what you'd expect 30,000 plus people converging on a few city blocks.
Margo, Chris and I start in corral G. I'd been assigned D based on my Fort2Base race time last summer. The Shuffle allows runners to go down in the alphabet, but not up. I let my friends know I'm attempting to break my previous time. We agree that if we are to get separated, we'll all meet at the end. My strategy is to go out hard and get past the leisurely shufflers. Hopefully I can find a pocket that moves closer to my pace.
The first mile is constant bobbing and weaving. I was prepared for that, but thought I'd been more efficient than a 9:45 mile. I decide I need to step it up to break my time. At the 5K, I'm averaging at 9:24.
Ever since the Fort2Base run, something's changed in the way I mentally approach a race. I used to concern myself with pace. In turn, I think I shortchanged my abilities and overall fitness. A race should be a challenge. So now, instead of letting the voice in my head say 'You better slow down,' I'm encouraging myself to think 'You can keep this pace. You can keep going to the finish.' It seems to work, though maybe it's the drink three ____ strategy that's trimming down my times.
The race route turns onto Michigan Avenue as we run south to Roosevelt. I try hard not to look at each numbered street sign reminding of the inevitable. That damn bridge. But as I work my way south, I remind myself this isn't the marathon. In fact, I'm only on mile 4. Time to show the Roosevelt street bridge once again it can be conquered.
As I reach the crest of the bridge, I set my sights on the finish line on Columbus. I measure the distance to determine when I should start sprinting. I decide now is as good a time as ever.
I hit the finish line at 46:22. A two minute improvement.
This calls for a Revolution Brewing Hombre Burger and a beer!
Traffic's a bear, though it's what you'd expect 30,000 plus people converging on a few city blocks.
Margo, Chris and I start in corral G. I'd been assigned D based on my Fort2Base race time last summer. The Shuffle allows runners to go down in the alphabet, but not up. I let my friends know I'm attempting to break my previous time. We agree that if we are to get separated, we'll all meet at the end. My strategy is to go out hard and get past the leisurely shufflers. Hopefully I can find a pocket that moves closer to my pace.
The first mile is constant bobbing and weaving. I was prepared for that, but thought I'd been more efficient than a 9:45 mile. I decide I need to step it up to break my time. At the 5K, I'm averaging at 9:24.
Ever since the Fort2Base run, something's changed in the way I mentally approach a race. I used to concern myself with pace. In turn, I think I shortchanged my abilities and overall fitness. A race should be a challenge. So now, instead of letting the voice in my head say 'You better slow down,' I'm encouraging myself to think 'You can keep this pace. You can keep going to the finish.' It seems to work, though maybe it's the drink three ____ strategy that's trimming down my times.
The race route turns onto Michigan Avenue as we run south to Roosevelt. I try hard not to look at each numbered street sign reminding of the inevitable. That damn bridge. But as I work my way south, I remind myself this isn't the marathon. In fact, I'm only on mile 4. Time to show the Roosevelt street bridge once again it can be conquered.
As I reach the crest of the bridge, I set my sights on the finish line on Columbus. I measure the distance to determine when I should start sprinting. I decide now is as good a time as ever.
I hit the finish line at 46:22. A two minute improvement.
This calls for a Revolution Brewing Hombre Burger and a beer!
Winning* the Shamrock Shuffle
Last week I mentioned to my boss I'd be visiting the Shamrock Shuffle Expo Friday around lunch. I told him I was running it for the first time in 5 years.
He was busy responding to an email on his iphone, so I dropped the subject. A few minutes later, he followed by asking, "Are you going to place?" As in, am I going to get in the top three. For a moment, I'm shocked and somewhat honored. There's no way I'll ever be a contender, but he isn't aware of that.
I told him my goal was to beat my former best Shuffle time of 48:22 (around 9:45/pace). Which is still about four and a half minutes too slow (per mile) to win the Shamrock Shuffle. I read off last year's times, which leads in to a conversation about who holds the world record in the mile.
More googling, followed by what I can only assume is boredom on his end.
Overall, he's a good sport about all the aspects of training - lunchtime runs, showing up to work like I just rolled out of the shower (since it was more important to run before work than look presentable), eating like a horse, icing aliments on top of my desk, and talking about any and all things running.
He was busy responding to an email on his iphone, so I dropped the subject. A few minutes later, he followed by asking, "Are you going to place?" As in, am I going to get in the top three. For a moment, I'm shocked and somewhat honored. There's no way I'll ever be a contender, but he isn't aware of that.
I told him my goal was to beat my former best Shuffle time of 48:22 (around 9:45/pace). Which is still about four and a half minutes too slow (per mile) to win the Shamrock Shuffle. I read off last year's times, which leads in to a conversation about who holds the world record in the mile.
More googling, followed by what I can only assume is boredom on his end.
Overall, he's a good sport about all the aspects of training - lunchtime runs, showing up to work like I just rolled out of the shower (since it was more important to run before work than look presentable), eating like a horse, icing aliments on top of my desk, and talking about any and all things running.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Marathon First Timer
Back in February, registration opened for the Chicago Marathon. A few days later, it closed. The fastest sell out in the event's 36 year history.
On opening day, a co-worker came by my office asking if I had signed up. I said I hadn't yet, but I planned to. I could sense he was interested, so I asked if he was going to sign up. He said he was thinking about it.
As I heard the race was filling up at a record pace the next day, I asked him if he was going to sign up. He said he might over the weekend. I let him know that I had signed up.
Though he was still sorting it out in his head, I started getting really excited for him. He was thinking about training for his first marathon. This is awesome! Very quickly, I got to the point where I couldn't contain my excitement and started emailing him. My first email was something like:
"I heard 13,000 people registered the first day. That's a record. It may sell out in the next few days. You should sign up"
This started an email chain, which resulted in him coming in my office the next day and throwing a piece of paper on my desk. It was his registration confirmation. Later, I walked down in to his office and saw a look of distress. He asked me "What have I done?"
I told him he was going to be accomplishing an amazing feat and a life experience before the end of the year. I talked him in to something good - not like going on a spur of the moment trip to Vegas.
He said that he may rather go to Vegas.
On opening day, a co-worker came by my office asking if I had signed up. I said I hadn't yet, but I planned to. I could sense he was interested, so I asked if he was going to sign up. He said he was thinking about it.
As I heard the race was filling up at a record pace the next day, I asked him if he was going to sign up. He said he might over the weekend. I let him know that I had signed up.
Though he was still sorting it out in his head, I started getting really excited for him. He was thinking about training for his first marathon. This is awesome! Very quickly, I got to the point where I couldn't contain my excitement and started emailing him. My first email was something like:
"I heard 13,000 people registered the first day. That's a record. It may sell out in the next few days. You should sign up"
This started an email chain, which resulted in him coming in my office the next day and throwing a piece of paper on my desk. It was his registration confirmation. Later, I walked down in to his office and saw a look of distress. He asked me "What have I done?"
I told him he was going to be accomplishing an amazing feat and a life experience before the end of the year. I talked him in to something good - not like going on a spur of the moment trip to Vegas.
He said that he may rather go to Vegas.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Rudi
A number of months ago, possibly during a post-marathon haze, Brian mentioned a great race.
The Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon.
13.1 miles through wine country. Who wouldn't want to do that?
He sent an email out to a group of our running friends regarding registration. No one acted on it.
The race sold out in a day.
In early February, I started thinking of racing season. I had lined up a few Chicago races in the spring, Ragnar in the early summer, followed by the marathon in the fall.
But I didn't have a Nashville, or an Indy, or a duathlon to speak of.
And I started thinking about Napa. And Sonoma. And running. So I went to the race's website. To my surprise, the race allows registration transfers. Which got me thinking, maybe I could get into this race afterall.
I went on the race's facebook fan page and pleaded my case - If anyone had signed up and couldn't run, well, I was their girl.
Within two weeks, I had a message from Rudi.
Rudi had signed up for the race but wasn't going to be able to make it out to California in July. She was currently training for the Publix Marathon and taking care of her grandson.
We exchanged a few emails and discovered we had a central Illinois connection.
We transfered information and I sent her a check.
Today she emailed me to say she had received my letter. She was surprised to see I was from Chicago. She mentioned her daughter lives in Evanston. We exchanged a few emails about the area, to which she followed the last one with, "I'll be in town in a few weeks, want to meet for a run?"
Why, yes, I would.
I love runners.
The Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon.
13.1 miles through wine country. Who wouldn't want to do that?
He sent an email out to a group of our running friends regarding registration. No one acted on it.
The race sold out in a day.
In early February, I started thinking of racing season. I had lined up a few Chicago races in the spring, Ragnar in the early summer, followed by the marathon in the fall.
But I didn't have a Nashville, or an Indy, or a duathlon to speak of.
And I started thinking about Napa. And Sonoma. And running. So I went to the race's website. To my surprise, the race allows registration transfers. Which got me thinking, maybe I could get into this race afterall.
I went on the race's facebook fan page and pleaded my case - If anyone had signed up and couldn't run, well, I was their girl.
Within two weeks, I had a message from Rudi.
Rudi had signed up for the race but wasn't going to be able to make it out to California in July. She was currently training for the Publix Marathon and taking care of her grandson.
We exchanged a few emails and discovered we had a central Illinois connection.
We transfered information and I sent her a check.
Today she emailed me to say she had received my letter. She was surprised to see I was from Chicago. She mentioned her daughter lives in Evanston. We exchanged a few emails about the area, to which she followed the last one with, "I'll be in town in a few weeks, want to meet for a run?"
Why, yes, I would.
I love runners.
Where Are the Barefoot Runners?
Yesterday I read another article on barefoot running.
It got me thinking. Then wondering.
Have I ever run across a barefoot runner?
No, I haven't.
I like the idea of barefoot running. The theory that a human 'has everything they already need to run' seems right on. I recently heard that children posses better running form than adults because they run naturally as opposed to adults who fall into habits (be good or bad) over time.
I have run in to a few people wearing Vibram Five Fingers or other minimalist shoes. But I always wonder how far they're running or how often they run.
I've thought about barefoot or minimalist shoe running. I'm just not sure how I'd incorporate it in to training. I think I'd have to ditch my Saucony's for, well, nothing. Or close to nothing.
If Nike and other big athletic retailers have, (to quote the idea in the book Born To Run) 'created the need for running shoes', I'm ok with giving money to the man and buying in to the idea.
I recently compared barefoot running to sleeping on the floor. Sure, it's available, but why would you when there's a posturepedic mattress right next to it?
It got me thinking. Then wondering.
Have I ever run across a barefoot runner?
No, I haven't.
I like the idea of barefoot running. The theory that a human 'has everything they already need to run' seems right on. I recently heard that children posses better running form than adults because they run naturally as opposed to adults who fall into habits (be good or bad) over time.
I have run in to a few people wearing Vibram Five Fingers or other minimalist shoes. But I always wonder how far they're running or how often they run.
I've thought about barefoot or minimalist shoe running. I'm just not sure how I'd incorporate it in to training. I think I'd have to ditch my Saucony's for, well, nothing. Or close to nothing.
If Nike and other big athletic retailers have, (to quote the idea in the book Born To Run) 'created the need for running shoes', I'm ok with giving money to the man and buying in to the idea.
I recently compared barefoot running to sleeping on the floor. Sure, it's available, but why would you when there's a posturepedic mattress right next to it?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
February, You're Pretty Awesome Too
January's weather was amazing.
February's turning out to be pretty awesome as well.
Last night, I listened to Tom Skilling speak with excitement as he talked about our unseasonably warm winter. I get a kick out of Skilling. His voice rises and hands move as he talks about isobars, reflectivity in the jet stream, and cumulus clouds. If someone was ever excited about the weather, it's him.
To date, 2012 has brought 8x more 40 degree days than 2011 for a total of 40 days - incredible to think when we're just halfway through February.
Winter Training isn't so bad after all, eh?
February's turning out to be pretty awesome as well.
Last night, I listened to Tom Skilling speak with excitement as he talked about our unseasonably warm winter. I get a kick out of Skilling. His voice rises and hands move as he talks about isobars, reflectivity in the jet stream, and cumulus clouds. If someone was ever excited about the weather, it's him.
To date, 2012 has brought 8x more 40 degree days than 2011 for a total of 40 days - incredible to think when we're just halfway through February.
Winter Training isn't so bad after all, eh?
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
Marathon 2011 Memory
I remember the exact moment this photo was taken. After completing the race, I hobbled through the chute and grabbed a bag of nutrition, water, the finishers medal, gatorade, and most importantly, that post race beer. It's true, it's the best tasting beer you'll ever have.
I cautiously walked over to gear check to grab my bag. A short walk later I came upon an open bench where I traded my shoes for flip flops. When I stood up my body felt tight and sore. I took a moment to look out at my surroundings.
And there it was, Buckingham Fountain. A spot I run by quite often but rarely find the time to admire.
Cheers to 2011 and doing it all again in 2012.
Monday, February 06, 2012
Registration for Chicago Marathon 2012
Wednesday, February 1st. I headed to work with a thought in the back of my mind - Marathon registration opens today. Marathon registration for runners is comparable to opening day to baseball fans. Excitement is in the air. The possibilities are endless. It will be a long season.
I didn't sign up first thing in the morning. Or at lunch. Or when I got home that evening. I still wasn't sure. Would I do Chicago again?
That evening, I had an email from the Marathon. A record 13,000 people had signed up on the first day. A first day registration record.
I thought long and hard about what I was going to do. I had looked in to running an international race or of running a few destination U.S. half marathons. A final decision had yet to be made.
So I approached it from another angle. If I had any desire to do Chicago again, I was going to need to make a decision and fast. Was I OK with not running Chicago in 2012? What if that meant no marathon in 2012? Or if I meant a marathon in another city, where? Would another city's marathon compare to Chicago?
Thursday, February 2nd, I received another email from the Marathon. Registration had reached 30,000. I decided I didn't want to take a chance of missing the opportunity, and I signed up. As I signed up, I texted Brian. He said he'd been thinking of the same thing. If I was going to sign up, then he would sign up too.
Brian and I, now accomplices in registration, focused our attention on to stage 2: Talking others in to registering for the marathon. Brian worked over a friend on facebook. I worked on a co-worker. By the end of the day Friday, we were both successful. Training is more fun when you're sharing the experience with someone. Especially a first timer.
I can't wait.
This morning a third email came from the marathon. The race is expected to sell out today.
Just five days after opening. Unbelievable and somehow, quite exciting.
I didn't sign up first thing in the morning. Or at lunch. Or when I got home that evening. I still wasn't sure. Would I do Chicago again?
That evening, I had an email from the Marathon. A record 13,000 people had signed up on the first day. A first day registration record.
I thought long and hard about what I was going to do. I had looked in to running an international race or of running a few destination U.S. half marathons. A final decision had yet to be made.
So I approached it from another angle. If I had any desire to do Chicago again, I was going to need to make a decision and fast. Was I OK with not running Chicago in 2012? What if that meant no marathon in 2012? Or if I meant a marathon in another city, where? Would another city's marathon compare to Chicago?
Thursday, February 2nd, I received another email from the Marathon. Registration had reached 30,000. I decided I didn't want to take a chance of missing the opportunity, and I signed up. As I signed up, I texted Brian. He said he'd been thinking of the same thing. If I was going to sign up, then he would sign up too.
Brian and I, now accomplices in registration, focused our attention on to stage 2: Talking others in to registering for the marathon. Brian worked over a friend on facebook. I worked on a co-worker. By the end of the day Friday, we were both successful. Training is more fun when you're sharing the experience with someone. Especially a first timer.
I can't wait.
This morning a third email came from the marathon. The race is expected to sell out today.
Just five days after opening. Unbelievable and somehow, quite exciting.
Elite Race Shirts
When I first started running races, I remember the excitement of packet pick-up.
In a race packet, you'll find your bib, a timing chip, flyers or special discounts, race information and, most importantly, the t-shirt.
Though a recent 'Dear Miles' column in Runner's World says differently, I've always believed that you can't wear the race t-shirt until after you've finished the race. But more power to anyone that chooses to wear it during.
I remember my first few shirts. Long sleeved cotton t-shirts. I was so proud I'd run the Reindeer Run 5K, the Run to the Zoo, and the Wrigley Run. Those shirts saw a lot of use.
As I ran more races, I got more shirts. Including unisex dry-fit tech shirts. Now I'd reached the next level of race-shirting. I separated the cotton t-shirts from the tech t-shirts.
Then came gender-specific tech t-shirts. And v-neck. And long sleeve. A long sleeve zip up. And tank tops.
As the collection grew, many of the cotton shirts were scarified. I kept a few in memory of the first races and others were donated to Goodwill.
There's now a full drawer of race shirts. I weed out the shirts that are too big, too short, or create chafing. I like a mix of sleeveless and short sleeves. I prefer Nike, Asics and Green Layer brands. I guess you could say I keep only the elite of race shirts.
At this rate, I'm likely to be set on running/workout shirts for a number of years.
One less piece of gear I need to buy. I like that.
In a race packet, you'll find your bib, a timing chip, flyers or special discounts, race information and, most importantly, the t-shirt.
Though a recent 'Dear Miles' column in Runner's World says differently, I've always believed that you can't wear the race t-shirt until after you've finished the race. But more power to anyone that chooses to wear it during.
I remember my first few shirts. Long sleeved cotton t-shirts. I was so proud I'd run the Reindeer Run 5K, the Run to the Zoo, and the Wrigley Run. Those shirts saw a lot of use.
As I ran more races, I got more shirts. Including unisex dry-fit tech shirts. Now I'd reached the next level of race-shirting. I separated the cotton t-shirts from the tech t-shirts.
Then came gender-specific tech t-shirts. And v-neck. And long sleeve. A long sleeve zip up. And tank tops.
As the collection grew, many of the cotton shirts were scarified. I kept a few in memory of the first races and others were donated to Goodwill.
There's now a full drawer of race shirts. I weed out the shirts that are too big, too short, or create chafing. I like a mix of sleeveless and short sleeves. I prefer Nike, Asics and Green Layer brands. I guess you could say I keep only the elite of race shirts.
At this rate, I'm likely to be set on running/workout shirts for a number of years.
One less piece of gear I need to buy. I like that.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
An Uncomfortable Love of Peanut Butter
One night at Lifetime, I packed my bag in the locker room after working out. A woman came in and sat on the bench near me. She was eating peanut butter with a spoon. I remember thinking the choice was quite odd. Just peanut butter? Not an apple with peanut butter? Or peanut butter and crackers?
I didn't ask about her choice, nor did I think about it until recently.
Over the last few years while training, I've made an effort to keep a stock of healthy snacks at work. Once you leave the office here, you wander in to the tourist's candy land. Candy land isn't a bad place to be as a tourist - you're likely not staying there long. But if you work in candy land, well, there in lies a problem.
I started bringing an apple and peanut butter for an afternoon snack. I'd keep the apples in the fridge down the hall and the jar of peanut butter in my desk drawer.
At first, I was bringing an apple every once and awhile. Maybe one a week if that. Sometimes I wouldn't remember about the peanut butter.
Then it developed in to an apple a few times a week, always with peanut butter. It was a delicious snack. Consumption went up and extra crunchy peanut butter became a common item on the grocery list.
The process of cutting up and apple and putting peanut butter on the slices became too time-consuming, so I've moved to streamlined version; Eat an apple with one hand, spoon in peanut butter with the other.
Over time, the apple to peanut butter ratio has become unbalanced. Usually the apple is still present, but maybe it's too small in comparison to the peanut butter craving. Which leads to a higher peanut butter intake, and thus, we now buy peanut butter at Costco.
On a few occasions, a co-worker has walked by my office to see me eating peanut butter right out of the jar. I know they find this odd. I used to find this odd. Now I'm the lady at Lifetime Fitness and I love peanut butter.
I didn't ask about her choice, nor did I think about it until recently.
Over the last few years while training, I've made an effort to keep a stock of healthy snacks at work. Once you leave the office here, you wander in to the tourist's candy land. Candy land isn't a bad place to be as a tourist - you're likely not staying there long. But if you work in candy land, well, there in lies a problem.
I started bringing an apple and peanut butter for an afternoon snack. I'd keep the apples in the fridge down the hall and the jar of peanut butter in my desk drawer.
At first, I was bringing an apple every once and awhile. Maybe one a week if that. Sometimes I wouldn't remember about the peanut butter.
Then it developed in to an apple a few times a week, always with peanut butter. It was a delicious snack. Consumption went up and extra crunchy peanut butter became a common item on the grocery list.
The process of cutting up and apple and putting peanut butter on the slices became too time-consuming, so I've moved to streamlined version; Eat an apple with one hand, spoon in peanut butter with the other.
Over time, the apple to peanut butter ratio has become unbalanced. Usually the apple is still present, but maybe it's too small in comparison to the peanut butter craving. Which leads to a higher peanut butter intake, and thus, we now buy peanut butter at Costco.
On a few occasions, a co-worker has walked by my office to see me eating peanut butter right out of the jar. I know they find this odd. I used to find this odd. Now I'm the lady at Lifetime Fitness and I love peanut butter.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Beer Run! article in Runner's World
I've subscribed to Runner's World for about six years now.
I don't recall ever reading an article that so deeply described the relationship of running and drinking, yet there it was a four page color spread in Runner's World.
Maybe there is something scientific to be said for drinking 3 beers and getting a PR after all.
http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-242-302--14186-0,00.html
I don't recall ever reading an article that so deeply described the relationship of running and drinking, yet there it was a four page color spread in Runner's World.
Maybe there is something scientific to be said for drinking 3 beers and getting a PR after all.
http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-242-302--14186-0,00.html
Spring Races: Signing up 'Early'
I'm turning over a new leaf in 2012. I'm not going to wait until the last minute to sign up for races.
Though I may be motivated to train, I lose it when it comes to committing to races.
There's really no excuse for it. I'm training year round.
In the spirit of this, I've signed up for the CARA Lakefront 10 and the Shamrock Shuffle.
This will be my first Lakefront 10, but I figured it's well-placed on the calendar and it won't hurt to do another ten mile race before the Solider Field 10.
I've had a few year hiatus from the Shamrock Shuffle. The last time I ran the race was 2008 I think. Vacations and training for other races have gotten in the way the last few years. A few friends are back in this year, so why not, right?
Though I may be motivated to train, I lose it when it comes to committing to races.
There's really no excuse for it. I'm training year round.
In the spirit of this, I've signed up for the CARA Lakefront 10 and the Shamrock Shuffle.
This will be my first Lakefront 10, but I figured it's well-placed on the calendar and it won't hurt to do another ten mile race before the Solider Field 10.
I've had a few year hiatus from the Shamrock Shuffle. The last time I ran the race was 2008 I think. Vacations and training for other races have gotten in the way the last few years. A few friends are back in this year, so why not, right?
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