Race Report: Hero Half Marathon - Oct 10, 2015

As it turns out, there are races of distances less than 26.2 miles. Who knew?

After training for long distances exclusively for the last three years, with very little down time in my regimen between events, I decided with Shauna's absence, I had the perfect opportunity to dial it back a little bit and moderate the number of miles I've been putting on my legs and feet each week. It was time to find the joy and the fun in running, not just the satisfaction that comes with completing another marathon and knowing I have the toughness and ability to slog through all of the training miles and then race day, too.

The problem with deciding not to train for a marathon, though, was the absence of a race of any kind on my mental calendar. While I'm generally a pretty motivated person, I do best when I have a goal I'm working toward, a deadline for achievement. Not wanting to spend the travel money usually associated with a race, I looked around and realized the local Fayetteville run scene has grown by leaps and bounds in the last year or two. There are so many options for runs of varying distances, supporting all kinds of different organizations and charities.

Based on good things I'd heard about the annual running in 2014 and in large part because of the new association with the 1LT Tom Martin Foundation, my good buddy Mike and I decided we'd sign up for the Hero Half Marathon right here in town. One of the big benefits of being a runner who is always halfway training for a marathon is the ability to sign up for a half just a couple of weeks before the race.

Looking forward to a distance that wouldn't break me down and a race that was mostly for fun, I met Mike on race morning at the shuttle point to get a ride to the start line of the point to point race. Unfortunately, this race report starts with two negatives: first, just like last year, start time is 10AM. Ten o'clock in the morning. I mean, who does that?! As a morning runner - and I'm talking done long before the sun even comes up, morning runner - I wasn't very excited about the idea of running in the sun and the warmth forecasted for that day. I know the upside is the chance to sleep in, but my concerns about the temperature by the midway point of the race far outweighed any enthusiasm for extra pillow time. Second problem: the 9am shuttle left a little early with a full crowd and rather than looping right back for a second run, apparently just disappeared. Hard to fault the race organizers, as it was a volunteer from another organization who wouldn't answer the phone when they tried to reach him, but it meant an awful lot of standing around and caused the race to start 20 minutes late.

The silver lining in the long wait? A chance to see Sarah and Jeff Hood, taking some great photos while sharing the story of #NeverQuit. I met some new friends, too, thanks to the built-in camaraderie of the wear blue: run to remember organization. Runners are special people, always friendly and easy to talk to, and meeting Melissa and her husband was an unexpected blessing as we waited for our ride.

Taking the good with the bad, the pre-race net result - problem #2 compounded problem #1. Not exactly an auspicious start, but hey, this was a fun run and it was only 13.1 miles, right? No big deal. I'm also a lot more likely to cut a race some slack when it's a small, local race where I feel like I have a personal connection and a vested interest in its success.

Local races are unique for the chance to see people I know at the start line. I ran into several people I've met through work, found my other two Saturday run group friends, and got to both give and receive a lot of good wishes and smiles. There was a nice ceremony honoring firefighters and promoting fire safety week, which would've been better if we weren't already late to the start line, but finally, it was time to go!

I planned on running with Mike and Louise - Fast Jeff was a contender for an overall place, so we just gave him a good luck - and we toed the line waiting for the signal to go. A very cool touch for this race - no air horn, no digital megaphone sound to send the runners on their way. In the tradition of the firehouse, they used a bell to signal step off. With the sun shining and hearts pumping, we headed down the trail for the loop around the lake, intending to take it a little bit easy and have a fun run. If we ran a sub-2:00, we'd be happy, but none of us put any pressure on ourselves for a specific time.

The race route was 100% on the Fayetteville trail system until you turned the last corner up to the firehouse (more to come on that!). Having pounded every inch of that pavement over the last 4+ years, I knew exactly what the twists and turns, elevation changes, bridges and tunnels would be. It also meant I had to suck it up and get over my mental block with running around the lake. No idea why I have such a hard time with that part of the trail, but I've come to loath that particular 5.5 mile stretch of pavement. Mike threw out an off hand "cut the corners" as we were stepping off, and for the first time since I ran the Houston Marathon, I made a deliberate, intentional effort to do just that.

It must have been the secret sauce - I don't know why I haven't done this every single time I run around Lake Fayetteville. It's a very winding path with lots of corners to cut, and it kept my mind focused on just getting to the next corner rather than thinking about the next hill or the interminable stretch on the back side of the lake. I managed to come out the other side and head down the hill in excellent time. My pace to this point was faster than intended, finishing the first five miles at an 8:13 average!

I had outpaced Mike and Louise a few miles in, so with feet pumping and arms swinging, I focused on the trail ahead, cutting the corners as close as possible, and just keeping the forward momentum going. As I headed south, I saw Jeff Hood again, camera in hand. I gave him a genuine smile when he encouraged me, saying I was on a sub-2:00 pace. I felt good, despite the sun rising higher in the sky and the temperature creeping up. I knew in detail what was in front of me, and was prepared to keep putting one foot in front of the other until I got to the end.

The race organizers did a fabulous job making sure there was plenty of support along the course. There were aid stations with water and Gatorade every mile or two, with enthusiastic volunteers yelling for all of the runners as they passed. There wasn't much crowd support, but even as a small race, I was never alone on the trail. I passed a few people, a few passed me, and I kept heading south as the trail slowly rose in front of me.

Around mile ten, it started getting hard. It was hard to try to keep the strong pace as the elevation slowly rose, and as the conditions got hotter. There are countless mantras runners use to motivate themselves through a run; I frequently repeat "constant forward progress" silently to myself. I also draw from my days in uniform, singing cadence to myself in my head, or occasionally hazing myself to stop being a big baby and suck it up. On this day, though, my thoughts were with Lisa Jaster, a West Point Woman who is a Class of 2000 graduate and was in the final phase of Ranger School, trying once again to graduate. She had been through six months of training, accepting recycles and restarts, and I had followed her progress with both pride and awe. When I hit the point where my legs said, "I just can't do it," my heart said "you most certainly can!" as I imagined Lisa humping her heavy ruck sack through swamps and mud and muck.

The reminder that this paled in comparison to other challenges put just enough spring in my step to keep me going. I managed to keep my pace at a run until I encountered the hill leading up to Maple; I took a deep breath, power walked up that bad boy, and then picked it back up as I coasted downhill to Dickson Street.

At this point, I knew I was close, but I was confused because my Garmin splits were off compared to the race mile markers on the course. In fact, by the time I got to the mile 12 marker, I was easily a half mile off. I thought maybe the course was short; maybe it wasn't certified; maybe it was a combination of variations in my Garmin combined with the course markers. Whatever it was, I knew the trail and the route, so I just had to keep going. So I did - until I turned left onto Center Street. Oh, the infamous last quarter mile of the race! It was an unbelievably steep hill - and just as we turned off of the trail, there was Sarah's family and the Never Quit motivation station, yelling and cheering for every one of us as we began our ascent.

Little by little, tiny step by tiny step, I made it up that hill. My pace plummeted until I wondered if I'd be better off walking, but I wasn't about to stop that with the finish line in sight.

I crossed the line, checked my watch, and did a double take at the results: 1:54:33 by my Garmin! Easy sub-2:00 on a day when I was simply out there to have fun. Given the very few official half marathons I've run, this was my new Personal Record for the distance, an exciting accomplishment in and of itself.

As I waited at the finish line for Mike and Louise to finish, I chatted with friends and even ran into a West Point classmate. I loved yelling for the runners digging deep to get up that hill and finish strong. It was a great finish line atmosphere with music and the announcer keeping the crowd updated on everyone who crossed that last timing mat. I eventually made it over to check the official results and delighted to find I'd managed to place first in my age group!

 In all, what a wonderful day for a race. It was certainly gratifying to have run a faster pace than expected and to have earned another age group win. The Hero Half is a very well-run race that exists to raise money for charitable organizations right here in my community, and I'm proud to have been a part of supporting that. One of the neat perks that I'd love to see at a lot more races - the professional photos were free and available the day after the race. It's a fairly difficult course, but in a way that makes you proud to have risen to the challenge.

As I've said countless times, I'm at a point in my journey where I'm simply grateful for the ability to run. To see my friends on a course, feel the sun on my face, and know that my body and spirit are strong enough to see me through to the finish line. Run on, my friends. See you at the next start line.

Louise, Mike, Me and Fast Jeff at the finish

Going for Gold

I'm at it again. And by it, I mean two things: 1) running and 2) working on my New Year's resolutions. Technically, I'm also working on my life list, but that's a tertiary consideration.

Tomorrow begins my quest for gold: Maniac Gold, that is. Between tomorrow and May 4th, I will run four marathons in 35 days.

1. March 30th: Hogeye Marathon, Fayetteville, Arkansas
2. April 13th: Raleigh Rock 'n' Roll Marathon, Raleigh, North Carolina
3. April 26th: The Garmin Marathon in the Land of Oz, Olathe, Kansas
4. May 4th: Square to Square Marathon, Bentonville, Arkansas to Fayetteville, Arkansas

I've been an official Marathon Maniac for almost two years, but when I qualified, I slid in at the lowest qualification level with what, if you ask me, would be considered the easiest way to qualify: two marathons in 16 days. Back in 2012, I did the Hogeye Marathon on April 15th and then the Nashville Marathon on April 28th. I celebrated my Maniacness at the finish line with my bestie Jill and her husband Michael, who had my reward in hand courtesy of a local running friend who'd figured out how to get it to her: my Marathon Maniac Sweaty Band!!

Since then, there have been super highs and one big super low in my running pursuit, but I'm back on track and running as much as ever. This year, I set a goal to up my Maniac level. I set the goal without a specific plan as of January 1st, and considering what it takes to qualify for some of the Maniac levels, I figured it might take more than a year to figure it out.

Check out what it takes to be some of the highest levels - you think I'm a crazy runner, there are people out there who are Palladium! Platinum!! Titanium!!!

With 2014, I also decided to recommit myself to speed work to try and requalify for Boston after the disappointment of missing the cutoff for this year's race. This winter, the weather has been totally uncooperative, and my head has been back and forth on my commitment to speed work. About a month ago, as my friend Shauna and I did the math on what it would take pace-wise to run a 3:45 or faster, the wind went out of my sails. I just don't have the mental strength this year to train for that kind of sustained speed.

I've thought a lot about whether fast matters. I've considered the many, many reasons I run. Ultimately, fast does matter. But it's far behind so many of the other reasons - time with friends, my mental and physical health, the sheer joy of knowing my body is strong enough to persist mile after mile after mile. My most enjoyable run to date this year was a Saturday run where I slowed down and spent time talking to friends I haven't run with in a good long while. That was what finally convinced me that for me, the joy is in the race, not the finish line.

Which brings me back to my Gold pursuit: these four races aren't going to be about time. The Hogeye isn't a Boston certified course, so my time wouldn't matter for qualification purposes, anyway. Raleigh is going to have over ten thousand runners, and a packed course is not an ideal time to go for speed. Oz is a repeat race for me, and while I may have a shot at some speed, it's a little bit hilly and challenging for a BQ attempt. And Square to Square is a free, unofficial marathon put on by a local running store, so certainly not Boston certified.

These races are about the joy of running, and all of the reasons to run other than fast. Race reports to come, but I can tell you up front, they will all be fun.

What a Difference a Year Makes

So here I am, on the eve of another race trip. I'm headed out tomorrow to drive down to Baton Rouge with my friend Mary, to meet our friends Liz and Tim, to run The Louisiana Marathon on Sunday. I'm super excited, and looking forward to a fun weekend with friends doing one of my favorite things in the world.

What a difference a year makes.

The second weekend of January last year, I was a bundle of nerves, headed down to Houston with my husband and kids to run the Houston Marathon. I had a specific time goal, I had trained my patootie off, and I was one lean, mean, running machine. I had my best race ever, despite less than perfect weather, and left every bit of me on that course that I had. When I finished, running a Boston Qualifying time, I knew that even if it wasn't good enough, it was all I could've done that day. I had given it all, and I was proud of the work I'd done, the effort I've given, and the result I'd achieved.

Fast forward to today, January 16th, 2014, and I'm simply happy to be looking at another 26.2 start line. My somewhat-serious injury last summer really put my running in perspective for me. I'm not going to lie and say it hasn't been disappointing to have gained a pound here and there and lost a step in the same heres and theres. It took a serious commitment and countless hours of work, often painful, to get better, to run faster. I hope to get back to something approaching that level of fitness again in the coming years, despite now knowing exactly how much work it is to do that.

Even with all of that work, with all of that commitment, it wasn't all unqualified success. Sometimes doing our best truly isn't good enough. That's when we learn just a little bit more about ourselves, and realize just a little bit more clearly that sometimes, achievements aren't about garnering recognition from others. The BAA told me my Houston marathon time just wasn't quite fast enough to come run their race in 2014. I was disappointed, for sure. There was a bit of a funk for a few days. Then I snapped out of it, and continued the work to rehab my ankle and just enjoy the freedom of lacing up and hitting the pavement.

So here I am - a year later, a little more than 365 days after a cold, windy, personal best marathon, and I'm thrilled to just get to the start line. I may run a sub-4:00, I may run a 4:30, I may have an unexpected, unforeseen, and inexplicable day and run another 3:38 (but don't count on it). Unlike last year, though, I really don't care what the clock says when I cross that finish line. I know I'm blessed just to be there, laced up and ready.

Ready to run.

Update on the "ankle incident"

Several weeks ago, I shared my disappointing DNF result from the War Eagle 50k - a disappointing result primarily because of an ankle injury. At the time, I assumed it was a severe sprain, and some rest, ice, compression and elevation would get me back on my feet and to my running routine in a few weeks.

I ultimately ended up at the doctor the Thursday after the race, because the darn swelling just wouldn't go away, and for some reason, my ankle still hurt pretty badly by the end of most days.

Because it was broken.

Hmph.

Soooo... into a boot I went, onto crutches, and then a knee scooter, with doctor's orders for absolutely no activity (including swimming) for five weeks.

 

But as we all know, in the summertime, time flies!!! Follow up appointment was today, and I was thrilled to hear the words "normal" and "healthy" as the good doctor reviewed my x-rays with me. He showed me where the break had been at the bottom of the fibula, and how it was all healed with the fracture line essentially invisible to the untrained eye.

I know where it is, but that's because I saw it when it
was broken... tell me if you can see where the break was!

He showed me how the spaces between all of the bones in the foot (and by the way, have you ever looked at the skeletal structure of the foot? Good grief, there are a lot of bones down there) were the right distance apart, which meant that all of the ligaments were in the right place.

Those are apparently some lovely 3mm, 4mm, and 3mm gaps
between all of the bones. Just ask my doctor.

Whew. Until that moment, I honestly had not realized just how anxious I was that I would not hear the words "normal" and "healthy" about my ankle. In fact, if I am truly honest, I must admit that I had moments of doubt that I would ever be back to normal - I'm getting older; I may not heal properly; I haven't been a model patient with the total avoidance of weight bearing activities. So when the x-ray evidence confirmed that I would, in fact, be back to normal, I was thrilled.

And immediately asked, "So when can I run again?"

I credit the doctor's extensive experience of working with athletes for being able to refrain from rolling his eyes at me.

As it turns out, I am allowed to work out starting immediately. I am allowed to:

• ride my bike!
• swim!
• walk!
• go to physical therapy once a week!
• ice my ankle twice a day, every day! (The physical therapist used the word "non-negotiable" several times in this particular conversation... you'd think he knows I'm a little bit hard headed, or something)

I am not yet allowed to:

• run!!

**siiiiiiiiiiiiigh**

Six more weeks until I can participate in any impact activities which, of course, for me means running. But you know what? In only six weeks, I can run. No bad news that the bone didn't heal properly; no terrifying prospect of a pin in my leg or a future that holds no running at all. So what's six weeks? We all lament how quickly the summer goes by, anyway. I'm going to blink, it's going to be Labor Day weekend, and I'm going to be out there in my shorts and my tank top with my Garmin all set to step off at a double time.

So here's to an unanticipated break from running this summer (see how I did that? break? get it?) and the opportunity to put some serious miles on my bike and get some intense swim workouts in. Just because I'm not running doesn't mean I'm not still all in.

Race Report: DNF, War Eagle 50k

Unfortunately, this is not my typical race report. Today, I attempted my first ultra - the War Eagle 50k trail run at Hobbs State Park-Conservation Area. And today, I had my first DNF - Did Not Finish. 

I'm frustrated. I'm embarrassed. I'm disappointed. 

It's been a tough week leading up to my first attempt at a 50k. Last Saturday, on my weekly long run, I got 1.5 miles into it and stepped on a rock on the sidewalk. I have notoriously weak ankles; I spent much of my high school basketball career in the training room, enduring an endless loop of ankle taping - cut the tape off - foot in a bucket of ice. Somehow, I've managed to avoid any serious injuries in the last year of basically nonstop training. I guess I was overdue.

The first questionable choice in preparation for today's 50k was to keep running last Saturday even after I rolled my ankle to the point that my ankle bone touched the sidewalk. I've walked off a thousand similar injuries; six miles later, though, I finally threw in the towel. Good thing I have awesome friends, one of whom came back to pick me up at the park in his car. Post-run, post-Epsom salt soak, post-ice, I thought: maybe it won't be too bad:

Sunday morning, though, the jig was up: I had a straight CANKLE. 

As the week went on it got better each day, and I stayed optimistic about my ability to do the 50k. Not only was it my first attempt at an ultra, I had already paid the $75 entry fee. Come on, people - you can't just let that go. 

Monday:

Tuesday:

Wednesday:

I ran Thursday, just 3 miles, to see how it felt. A friend taped me up with K tape, and I thought I was going to be okay. 

Friday morning it felt great, seemingly no negative impact from the previous day's run:

By Friday after work, though, I could tell I'd had a setback. I began to question the wisdom of running on Saturday. It didn't help that severe storms (including possible tornados) were forecasted for the area. On the other hand, it also doesn't help that I'm a sucker for peer pressure. So this morning, I got up, got dressed, and headed out the door to do my best. 

If it hadn't been for my friend Jeff, there's no way I would have been able to muster the courage and grit to make the attempt. We met up at the parking lot and planned to stay together on the run. He did it last year and was familiar with the trail, so I figured that would help me avoid the worst spots. I needed to get my ankle taped, so naturally, I had world famous photographer Luis Escobar do it for me. Who else?

I don't think the gift shop lady was too keen about me sitting on her counter. But we were quick. One picture inside, then time to hit the trail. 

I could tell pretty much in the first two miles it was going to be a rough day. I essentially had to walk the downhills - and since I assumed I would have to walk a lot of the uphills, too, things weren't looking too good. The trails at Hobbs are amazing, but they're still trails, and still have rocks and roots and uneven footing. Right around mile 7, I did it again - stepped on a rock, rolled the ankle pretty badly. That was it - I knew I would be walking to the next aid station for a ride back to the finish. 

In those seven miles, though, I totally got why people love trail running. It was raining, but it really wasn't that bad under the canopy of the trees. It was muddy, but that made it more of an adventure. The quiet and solitude of a trail run are so different from the crush of the crowd in a huge traditional marathon. The runners come equipped with Camelbaks, and the aid stations have pretzels, gummy bears, and Coke. The challenge of the path sharpens your focus; makes you pay strict attention to your steps; requires that you demand more of the amazing machine that is the human body. 

I got an idea of the difference in the mindset needed for a trail run, as well as for an ultra. You can't halfway mentally commit to a 50k. You're either in or you're out - there is no halfhearted effort. I think that's why I'm convinced I'm well suited for the ultra distances. I'm all in - or I'm not in at all. 

Admitting defeat and accepting my first DNF feels terrible. I crow so much about my running, I was embarrassed to report my inability to suck it up and drive on. But that's when I realized, for maybe the thousandth time, how special the community of runners is. I was brought to tears by a dear friend who posted these for me on Facebook:

"...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." -- Teddy Roosevelt

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat." -- Teddy Roosevelt

I'll try again next year. For now, I'll mope a little bit, nurse my ego a little bit, and spend the next week providing embarrassed explanations to co-workers and friends. But something like a sprained ankle isn't enough to keep me on the sidelines. 

Time to hit the pool. With a vengeance. 

Race Report: Garmin Marathon in the Land of Oz

I got lucky - I picked a great race to round out my spring marathon season. Last Saturday, I ran the Garmin Marathon in Olathe, KS - you know, the Land of Oz! I heard about this race from my friend Jeff, and in my quest for 50 states, this sounded like an excellent option to cross off the Sunflower State.

I managed to talk a couple of girlfriends into joining me in Oz, and got lucky to also connect with a couple of other girlfriends who live in the area. Girls' weekend!! Friday morning, I got the kids off to school, then headed over to Sarah's house to pick her up and head north.

Best thing about going to races that are within driving distance: no bag limit for travel!!

The drive from NW Arkansas to Kansas City is easy. Unfortunately for me - and even more so for Becca - my navigational abilities are suspect even when aided by Google Maps. After a couple of wrong turns I managed to get to KC International, and we were off to packet pick up. Notice I didn't say expo - this was accurately billed as, "packet pick up." I do love small races, but the trade off is the lack of a big expo hall filled with vendors selling things I didn't realize I desperately needed until right.that.very.minute. (My budget thanks you, Garmin Marathon.)

Check out the flags. I think this was in between gusts.

The packet pick up and a couple of local vendors were set up in the parking lot of Garmin International's headquarters. Cool. Kansas wind: not cool. It was blowing like we were on the open plains, and while I expected some wind, this was disconcerting at the least. Good thing my stated race strategy was: wake up on race morning and let the weather be the primary dictator of my strategy. Reduces the chance for disappointment.

Got our packets, went inside to check out a cool digital fly-through of the race course, took a couple of pictures, then off to the hotel. Check in, get settled, then head out for an early dinner with Anne.

Everywhere you go, there you are - especially if you went to West Point and have friends and classmates scattered all over the U.S. Olathe is only about 45 minutes from Ft. Leavenworth, and after 15 years, I got to see my super-stud classmate Anne who helped me with a training plan for my half iron triathlon last summer. Her husband was running the half, so it worked out perfectly to have a pre-race dinner / reunion that afternoon. (For the record: she has two of the world's best behaved kids in the history of the universe ever. Seriously. They were so good while the grown ups sat and talked for two hours.)

Race morning: I was mentally ready for wind, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what to wear for the temperature. Base layer plus long sleeves? Base layer plus jacket? Just long sleeves? Tights were a non-decision, despite Sarah's crazy shorts. I mean, it was 37 degrees outside. She crazy. I opted for base layer and jacket, which meant race belt instead of pins for my number.

My official marathon race-day socks

We all got in the car, drove the five minutes to Garmin and parked 100 feet from the start line (did I mention that I love small races?!). I got out of the car and promptly decided I was overdressed. Good thing I brought three other clothing options in case I changed my mind. Jacket off, long sleeve on, race belt off, safety pins on. Ready to go.

Let's go, Twinkle Toes!

Sarah and me. Note the shorts. Cuh-razy.

Me and Becca. Finally - a race where I'm not wearing a blue shirt!!

After the events of last Monday in Boston, the feeling among the runners was different than any race I'd run before. Many of us pinned the extra sentiment with our number, and I saw more BAA blue and gold than I've ever seen at a race before. It was a lovely symbol of the running community, and how we're all interwoven. I don't have to know you - to know you're a runner is to know you're my friend.

So that's an awful lot of prelude to the race itself, which was terrific. Let me once again extol the virtues of a small race. I got out of my car about ten minutes before gun time, stepped almost to the front of the runners with the 3:30 pace group, and had no trouble finding room in the starting line crowd. Plenty of full and half marathoners, many in Oz costume which made it that much more fun!

There was a moment of silence to honor the victims in Boston, the singing of the national anthem, and we were off. True story, off I went: faster than my hoped-for average pace as is typically my strategy, but good grief - until close to mile 2, I didn't pay attention to exactly how too-fast I was running. I felt good, though, the weather was PERFECT, and I decided just to see how long the feeling would last. When I heard a spectator somewhere between miles 5 and 6 say, "there's the second female runner" as I sped by, that was a thrill of a lifetime. I knew it probably wasn't sustainable, but I was at a sub-8:00 pace and feeling terrific.

I failed to remember that the first many miles are net downhill. Doh.

So then the hills began. For those of you who think Kansas = flat, let me help you. Western Kansas is just that. Eastern Kansas, where we were, is on the bluffs of the river and rivals northwest Arkansas for rolling elevation changes. I felt okay through the half marathon point, but between the excessively fast pace and the lack of hill training the last six weeks, I knew the back half could get ugly.

Right again.

I managed to hold it together until about 16, but as more and more people passed me, and my pace dropped off as my calves and hamstrings tightened, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on to a 3:30 dream. Just as well; even my computer password at work has reminded me for the last two months that I was running this race for the bling. The last several miles of the marathon wound along the running trail in Olathe, which was exactly like the running trail at home. That was mentally a huge help, because at this point I was walking through the water stations and trying not to shuffle across the wee little uphills on the trail's bridges.

Another lesson learned at Oz: having friends running the half while you're running the full means a guaranteed finish line cheering section. Sarah and Becca were right there cheering me on as I came to the finish line, and I managed to finish in 3:44:42.

I think you had to be there...

I kind of have to pinch myself - three sub-4:00 marathons in four months. A year ago, I barely broke five hours. What a year it's been.

With some fellow Maniacs - running for fun!

She's a maniac, maniaaaaac...

I had to get a little help at the finish line to return my chip; while I was sitting I chatted with a young lady who had just finished her first marathon. In 3:29. Wowzers. I asked her old she was and she said 29 - to which I immediately responded that I was pretty sure she had just run a Boston qualifying time. The look on her face was exactly why I run - super excited for her.

Can I get - some help - with my chip - please!

Lots of fun at the finish line - the small "expo" was forgotten thanks to the excellent food, drinks, and massage tent at the finish line. I got my finisher's shirt; a free massage; two bowls of incredible mac & cheese; a grilled chicken sandwich; and a Belgian White celebratory beer. My space blanket finally wasn't enough to keep me warm, so we headed back to the hotel to get cleaned up and shower.

Girls' weekend continued with Heather picking us all up - no more directional challenges behind the wheel! - and we headed out for dinner. Our plan to go to Jack Stacks on the Plaza was foiled by excessive traffic in the highway, so we did what any self-respecting post-race celebrators would do. We opted for Five Guys cheeseburgers and fries!!!

If you're going to go all in, running marathons and eating cheeseburgers, then you really should go ALL IN - so we headed to Cheesecake Factory after dinner. (This dessert will be filed under "Why I Run.")


Party animals though we may be, that was about all we could handle. I think we all slept like the dead that night. Got up Sunday morning to load up the car, and whaddya know, the Kansas wind was back. Looks like my streak of crazy-windy races is over; after wind and rain in Houston, and a persistent headwind in Mississippi, I got a break in - of all places - Kansas. There's no place like home, there's no place like home...

All in all, an excellent weekend. Great times with Sarah, Becca, Anne and Heather, and so much fun running another 26.2. This was marathon #6 and state #6, but the last one until the Fall unless something totally unexpected happens. I'm glad I ran this one for the bling - because, as bling goes, this one is pretty sweet.

Race Report: Hogeye Marathon Relay (AKA, I know people!! Lots and lots of PEOPLE!!)

Hometown races - you can't beat 'em. Seriously. I've traveled to my fair share of races at this point - Las Vegas; Washington, D.C.; Nashville; Houston; St. Louis; Greenville, MS, and many more 5k's, 10k's and triathlons. This is the second year in a row I've participated in the Hogeye, and for convenience and familiarity, it cannot be beat.

This year, I signed up as a member of a relay team together with some of my fabulous co-workers. Law of averages - one of our team members got sick at the last minute, but lucky for me, I know PEOPLE!!! I have such a fabulous run group here in Fayetteville, so I had not one, but two women volunteer to step in at the last minute. Because I'm occasionally a disorganized doofus, I didn't remember that I had already asked one person, and then proceeded to ask another. DOH. But let's chalk it up to what wonderful friends I have instead of my terrible memory, shall we?!

Anywho, our "girls rule" relay team:

Hollan, me, Kate and Becca

Sunday morning bright and early, we joined up downtown with my running group, most of whom were doing the half, one of whom was doing the full. He's the crazy one - he's been known to run 50+ miles per week in his craziness. We love him anyway.

Richard, Angie, me, Hollan, Jeff (the crazy one), Mike and John

Did I mention I know people? One of my other co-workers joined us in our pre-race spot (provided by another running friend whose office is on the Fayetteville square, approximately 8 1/2 steps from the start line!!). Kate and I realized that we had an Army, Navy, and an Air Force veteran - picture, please!!

Jereme - Air Force, Kate - Navy, Me - Army

It promised to be a beautiful day - if you're into 20 mph winds and highs in the 70s when you're running a marathon. But HEY! It's been such a wet, cold spring, at this point, I'll take what I can get!! We made our way down to the start line, and found more evidence that - I know PEOPLE!! Lots and lots of people!!!

I've been to several races alone, where I talk to random person while we're waiting to start. I've also run a few races with Jill, where she's the only one I know. But at my hometown race, I can walk up to the start line and see PEOPLE!! So fun.

Becca, Nick, Jereme, and Kate - all coworkers
(in case you didn't get that from the blatantly branded running gear)

Sarah, Becky (her first Half today!!), me and Greg - NOT coworkers!
Evidence that I DO have a life outside of work!!

As leg 3 of my relay team, it was a bit odd for the starting gun to sound and for me to just be standing there. I realized pretty quickly, though, I had two choices - stand there freezing in the wind and feeling sorry for myself, or walk myself over to where the shuttles were picking up and get to my exchange point with plenty of time.

First problem: I wasn't 100% sure where the shuttles were.

Relays are a totally different animal than "just" running a race - good thing there were plenty of people around headed generally in the same direction. My assumption with any race I run is that I'll never be the one in front, so I can just follow someone else. Totally held true for the shuttles today, too. Let's just chalk that up to good planning. (What, you thought it was inattention to detail??)

I hung out at the relay exchange point for a while, talking to random people. I didn't know anyone there, but hey - runners are friends, whether they know each other or not. I was able to do the runner-nerd talk about races, Marathon Maniacs, fuel / gel strategy, running groups, how the weather would affect our time, etc., etc., and it was totally normal.

After about an hour of waiting, I saw Becca approaching the exchange point just shy of the two hour point. We swapped the chip and off I went. Way. Too. Fast. I should've realized that using a race for a taper run was an impossibility for me - I mean, I can't pace myself on a good day. Put people in front of me that I then like to play "catch up" with (strangely, that seems to always be a one player game), and I was in high gear from the first step.

I averaged 7:55 overall. My splits:

Not sure what was going on there at mile 2. Oops.

As the day went on and I got closer to my exchange point with Hollan, it got windier and warmer. I don't know what it is with me and windy races this year - Houston, craziness; Mississippi River, headwind the whole way; Hogeye, 20mph winds by the time I finished. Kansas next weekend - I'm not exactly holding my breath. I mean, it's KANSAS. You know, Land of Oz, tornados, wind on the prairie. All that.

But, wind and sun aside, it was still a great race. I had the leg around the lake, which is a newly paved portion of our trail system, and one I enjoy running. I had a nice downhill section for most of mile 4 when the wind really picked up, so at least there's that. Or something.

Finally got to the exchange point, passed off the timing chip to Hollan, and my run was done. Time to socialize, because I know PEOPLE!!

This was when it hit me that a small town, hometown race cannot be beat if you're a part of the running community. At the exchange point, I saw Kindra (a triathlon friend); Mitzi (below left), who also gave me my medal, and Shauna (below right) - who I'd actually seen at the last exchange point! Mary ran through the station while I was there, too - all in the space of about 15 minutes. I know PEOPLE!!

(Thank you Mr. Developer who created the turn-around camera thing on the iPhone!!)

As we were standing there talking, Shauna and I realized that Hollan is so dang fast, I'd better get to the finish line so I didn't miss her - and then I got super lucky and she took me there so I didn't have to figure out the shuttle again. Logistics. Hmph. Apparently no longer my strong suit.

Once I was down at the finish line, I hooked up with everyone again - everyone who'd done the Half was finished, so we were just waiting for Hollan to finish our relay and for Jeff to finish the Full. I had seen him around mile 20, and I could tell it was a tough day for him - the wind and the sun were killer, and for anyone doing the full, it was only getting harder as the day wore on. 

Eventually we saw Hollan, and about a minute behind her was Jeff. Race finish lines are always a party atmosphere, and this one was no different - maybe even more so, since there were many UofA kids that ran this morning, including a couple of Alpha Delta Pi teams with their sorority shirts on. Own it, I say!

Final team time, somewhere around 3:56 and some change - pretty darn good for a relay team that included two first-timers. And Kate rocked it by doing both the first leg of the relay AND going on to finish the Half, too - her first!!!! Becca said she wants to do a Half now, too, and I'm super excited - I'd like to think that maybe had a hand in inspiring both of them. It was either me or the bling, hard to say.

So here we are - Team Tide, Girls Rule, and a sub-4:00 relay:

And, of course, I know people - and here are my favorite running peeps at the finish line, too:

I sure am lucky to know not just people, but really, really good people. And that's what made today's race so much fun.

****

Postscript - how could I have left this out - speaking of knowing people, I had the unbelievable good fortune and luck to gave dinner with Jeff Galloway on Friday night!! He was in town as part of the Hogeye Marathon weekend, and Angie is a Hogeye board member. She was gracious enough to invite me to join the group, which of course, I totally accepted. Lucky me - I know people who know OTHER people!!

I got to tell Jeff that I finished my first marathon because of him!!