Overwhelmed

Contrary to what appears to be an over-share, I am a fairly private person. Being the center of attention makes me uncomfortable. While I'm not terribly shy, I am reserved. (if that makes sense)

A lot of you are not shocked by that statement. 

I agonized over the decision to share my recent story. In the end, I realized I don't know much...but I know running. If my experience helped even one runner, searching for answers, it was worth the extra attention.

"Thank you" will never begin to cover the feeling my husband I have regarding the outpouring of support we have received. If someone can come up with a phrase or gesture to fully convey "holy cow. We don't deserve this much love and you are all absolutely amazing", please let me know.  I just...I'm blown away.

Feel free to skip or skim any of the updates posted. Again, I'm desperate to NOT seek attention. I do feel that the information is, or could be, invaluable, though. Additionally, it has already opened doors to people I would not have normally met, who have excellent insight.

So...another sleep-deprived, head-full-of-new-information update: 

important. Plus, posts without pictures are lame

My primary care office was ON IT, this morning. After all my previous struggles, they've done a complete 180 and are now a fully functioning piece of this. I am very grateful for what they accomplished, today. 

I saw an Oncologist/Hematologist first thing, this morning. He did bloodwork and found no red flags. (yes!!) 

He also read the reports from the MRI and CT Scan, (but didn't have any of the images) and was not as convinced as the other doctors that what they're seeing is a tumor. 

Here is my concern regarding this piece : As soon as I told him I was a runner, he stopped taking notes. I worry he is being too quick to write this off as an injury. Yes, we will all do a (so careful) dance of joy if this a stress fracture that has not shown up for 3 doctors on 3 different scans, but that just seems "off" at this point. Neurotic over-thinking and sharing? Maybe. It's kinda my new thing. 

Additionally, he explained how bone biopsies are not like other biopsies. If this were any other part of the body, they would likely start with a biopsy. However, with it being so invasive and delicate a procedure, he wants to check a few more boxes before taking that route. Fine by us. 

This doctor spent a great deal of time with Art and I and we left feeling confident with his decisions and much more calm about the situation, as a whole. 

To be clear : No cancer has been confirmed or diagnosed at any point. 

I now have all of my scans on a disc, as well as a fresh, new, chest X-ray. If it is Sarcoma, the lungs are the next place it would have traveled, if any traveling had taken place. Again, nothing confirmed, denied or diagnosed. Simply another box to check. 

The images will be taken to an Orthopedic doctor he trusts. The oncologist tells us (more or less), that this fine gentleman will say : "This is MY specialty. What you have is an injury and here is how we will fix it." 

or 

"This is MY specialty. In my experience, I have not seen an injury that looks like what you have on these scans. It is time for a biopsy" 

So, that is the next box to be checked. The skilled Orthopedic doctor who holds more answers. 

Again and again and again : Thank you. Your concern, comments, texts, thoughts, love, prayers, offers to help and wisdom have made this day one trillion times easier than it should have been. 

Since I have you all here, and this is technically still a running blog, I'll leave you with a picture of my toes after running 100 miles. My gift to you. 

YOU'RE WELCOME!! 

Never Running Again

I have been staring at this blank page, at 4:00 am, trying to figure out how to put this into words. There doesn't seem to be a clever or catchy way to start, so I'll stick with what I know.

The story. 

In early December 2015, I ran the OUC Half Marathon in Orlando. Track Shack does a spectacular job of trying to make you forget what a truly awful race it is. The pre and post-race excitement *almost* tricks your brain into thinking "I should do this, every year!". The heat, uneven cobblestones and boring streets just can't be forgotten, though. 

It was part of my training, so I gave it good, tempo effort but didn't go all out. The time (1:37ish) ended up being 2 minutes faster than I'd previously ran there (2013). 

woohoo! 

I diligently completed all of my post-race recovery steps and felt good. Tired, a little achy, but good. That evening, I stepped out of the car, after a road trip and nearly toppled over. My right calf was NOT happy. As any neurotic runner would do, I proceeded to gingerly hop on it and was terrified at how much worse that felt. 

Crap. 

The next two weeks were agonizing and stressful. My goal race was looming. 24 hours, on a 400 meter track, with the intent of qualifying for the US National 24-Hour team, is not something one can go into half-heartedly. 

I iced, heated, elevated, and had the magic hands of Debbie upon me, more than once. Above all, I didn't push it. During those weeks, I only tested out my running legs a couple of short times. The training plan was furiously re-vamped to include nothing but rest and recovery. 

I can honestly say that when my husband and I boarded the Arizona-bound plane, all the calf pain terror was behind me. No medications involved, no fingers crossed. My biggest fears were getting my gear and nutrition set to keep my body going strong for 24 hours of running. 

The details of the race aren't important. The highs of dining with some of the most amazing athletes I've ever encountered, were swiftly followed by the nauseating lows of limping behind all of them after stabbing pain hobbled me a few, short laps into the morning.  

My husband and dear friend  were so patient and loving. I am still so thankful for the way they picked up the pieces and got us all home, with (somehow) happy memories of the weekend. 

The phantom, on-again-off-again, calf annoyance was now a full-on, stabbing, keeping-me-awake-all-night  PAIN. I put myself on crutches and treated it like what I suspected it to be. A tibial stress fracture. (<-<-It's cool to use fractured sentences when discussing fractured bones) 

Christmas on Crutches! 

Not being able to run is devastating for any runner. Going from 80 miles per week, to zero, was really hard to wrap my head around. With it being a weight-bearing bone, this could continue for at least eight weeks. However, with no actual diagnosis, there was a chance this could all go away much quicker. 

Fast-forward to the day I broke down and went to the ER. Having no Primary Care Provider, it was the only way to get the ball rolling on a diagnosis and treatment plan. I'd fought it for weeks. A stress fracture would be healed by doing exactly what I was doing. Anything else : tear, strain, etc, also just needed rest. However, it had now been just that unsettling bit of "too long" to ignore. The pain was still waking me up at night. I still wasn't able to function as I would like to as a person, much less an athlete. So, to the ER I went. 

The "doctor" peeked at the clean x-ray and immediately turned off his listening ears. He sent me away with instructions to "take a warm bath and possibly try some new shoes" to ease my "shin splints". He refused to order any further tests and the referral he gave me was not one my insurance was able to use. It was a maddening waste of my valuable time. 

But I kept at it. 

New insurance policy, new doctors...it was a mess. Once I started down that path, though, I was either going to get to the bottom of this or stop being in pain. The pain lingered, my frustration and depression grew, so I kept pushing. 

being listed in magazines helped 

Again, trying to shorten this months-long story, so feel free to ask any details you feel are pertinent. 

For now: there was an MRI. Waiting for the results was maddening. The results were even more so. No stress fracture was detected. "unspecified" bits showed up. This meant there was proof something was causing me pain, however, any imaging had so far failed to determine what that might be. All of this was wrapped up with "BUT, it could still be a stress fracture." 

Lovely. 

Last week, I had a CT scan. There were more hoops to jump through to get the results. This finally resulted in me driving to the doctor's office, to pick up a copy. If necessary, I could schedule a follow-up when the doctor became available. For now, though, I just wanted to try to decipher that report and get some answers. 

When my eyes fell on the word "sarcoma", in the report, the world quickly became very small, very quiet and very still. 

I showed it to the receptionist who put me on the schedule to meet with the doctor an hour from then. 

To think of how devastated I was at the prospect of not running for 8 weeks. That my gripe was how much fitness I was losing, how many races I was missing out on, the fun times with friends out on the roads and trails. 

Looking at an upcoming bone biopsy and being faced with, among a dizzying amount of unknowns, the thought of Never Running Again. 

Suddenly, 8 weeks doesn't seem so bad. 

You Are Someone's Someday

Quickie post before we get into some lengthy, you will wish I'd just shut up already, stories. 

I started this post over a year ago. September 2014. I keep getting drawn back to it, though. Instead of deleting it, I need to finish it. It's an important reminder for any athlete, at any level.

Think about that statement.

That's the key.

The title could probably be applied to more aspects of life, but I'm not feeling that introspective nor intelligent, today. Let's just stick to what we know: running. 

We were nearing the end of Summer, in Central Florida, when this epiphany occurred. If you have ever run through the Summer, in Central Florida, you will know that a lot of interesting situations can occur. Profanity, emphatic statements about quitting running, literal puddles of your own bodily fluids, shiny, red skin, etc.

Don't even get me started on Summer Trail Running 

Typically, epiphanies are few and far between during these months. Which is why this was quite the phenomenon.

This morning was, initially, no different. I had run from my house, to meet the running group for a 5 am workout. There are all sort of runners, but I am not the type who springs from bed, laces up and bounds happily out the door for my pre-dawn run. Mostly I hate them. Every time.

(you know...until afterwards when I am blown away by just how worthwhile it was to get up early and run)

Again, this day was no exception.  I hated the heat and suffocating humidity. I hated how sluggish my entire body felt and how frustrating my paces were as I slogged around the lake, repeatedly. My training, long runs and workouts had not encountered into a single snag, but it just didn't feel good. 

At ALL.

On the final recovery jog, I peeked at my watch and stopped in my tracks, in disgust. Every single 800 meter repeat had been uncomfortably completed well off my goal pace. I hadn't hit a single target.

What a waste. This weather sucks. I suck. The upcoming race I was training for would suck. My whole body drooped as I angrily lumbered back to the cooler to grab a quick drink and slink back home.

I indulged in a head-dousing of icy cold water, as I glared off towards the road. The background noise of my friends' chatter and excited Garmin Stats-Comparing only fueled my annoyance. (at myself. not them. GO THEM!)

When I felt the hesitant should tap, I swung my drenched, frizzy head towards a newish member. She was equally red-faced, sweat-soaked but smiling. Beautifully.

"I just had to tell you how much you inspire me. I'm working my way up to running an entire mile, without walking and it's so hard. When I saw you, flying around the lake...your hair floating behind you...your legs turning over effortlessly, it made me so determined. Someday, I'm going to be able to do that." 

I sputtered out some sort of idiotic reply and ran home, dazed.

Even on your worst, slowest, hottest, coldest, wettest, dirtiest, disappointing runs, someone is watching and comparing. YOU (yes you) are doing something that others only dream of.

Embrace that. Love that. Don't be a complete jerk about that.

You, my friend, are Someone's Someday.

How To Go from 4:05 to 3:39 in 2 Months

It wasn't my intent to leave this half-written story for so long. Turned out to be really good timing, though, to have it ready to post today! If you don't know why, Google when The Boston Marathon is run. (or get your head out of the hole you have it buried in)

At no point during the four hours and 5 minutes I spent running The 2012 Jacksonville Bank Marathon did I think "I will learn to LOVE this experience for all it will teach me". But I totally should have. Because, without that mess of a race, I'm fairly certain I would not have run a Boston Qualifying marathon two months later. It forced me to go back to the drawing board and make some physical and mental adjustments.

I won't drag us all back into the December Debacle, though. I'd just like to share what I did for my 26.2 Miles on February 17th, 'cause...well...it seemed to work out okay.

Nutrition & Fueling: I belive it was Erin who shared some links regarding race day eating, a couple of months back. Until I started running long distances, I'd never had a problem with my intestines misbehaving. For example : I once ate a large burrito, enchilada, refried beans and rice about an hour before setting out for an evening run. (p.s. : that little tidbit falls under the "do as I say, not as I do" category, obvs)

Once I started spending more than 90 minutes on my feet, though, my previously brag-worthy, iron stomach turned into a big, dumb jerk. Through a lot of (mostly failed) experimenting and the aforementioned new fueling plans I was finally cautiously optimistic about not completely falling apart, GI-wise, during the race.

I ate less than 1/2 of a plain bagel at about 4:30 am, while waiting downstairs for my friends to join me on the shuttle. There ended up being some clock discrepancies, though. I waited for a couple minutes before boarding the nearest bus. (hooray for heated transportation!! It was right around 32 degrees) I sipped water, on and off, throughout the morning, but didn't take in any other calories.

$2 jacket from Goodwill, warm bus, very special self portrait

 

I'd cut up some Shot Bloks into easier-to-gnaw pieces and stuffed them into a ziploc. Those, plus one Clif gel would be my race fuel. I decided not to carry a water bottle, as there were plentiful stops along the course. Also, with the cold weather, I didn't see myself needing a ton of hydration.

 

I had a few pieces of the Bloks every 45 minutes, saving the gel for the final few miles. The amount and choices were happily perfect! There were a couple moments where I felt dry-mouthed and wished for water, but it didn't take long before I had cups available to me.

 

The only other, minor problem was the cold + chewy fuel combo. My face was so cold, it was really hard to chew those gooey bits. I'm sure the specatators were treated to a really special show every time I fought through that process. I've checked the race day photos and have yet to see any depicting that hideous scene. Either the photographers didn't catch it or they're kind editors.

 

The Early Miles: I'd made myself some little pace stickers, but they ended up under my arm warmers. I quickly realized they were going to be more of an annoyance than anything, so I kinda forgot about them. (until they pulled arm hairs. Then I remembered them)

 

I've gotten really good at starting longer races nice and easy. This one was no exception. The only glitch was, again, the cold. We'd been waiting in the corral for so long, that I could no longer feel my feet. It's real tricky to run a pace based on feel when you can't, stinking feel anything.

 

the freezing, lonely corral

  

With friends and family choosing to run the Marathon Relay, I had The Best Start, Ever (TBSE) as I got to run my sissy's portion, with her. We marvelled at our Frozen Feet Syndrome and smiled. A lot. Having her with me totally erased any nerves or jitters. I've never felt so comfortable, mentally, at the start of a race.

 

My goal for the 1st 3 miles was 9:00, 8:30 & 8:00. Actual : 8:56, 8:29, 8:00. Pretty good, huh? After that, I'd planned to clock in the next 10 somewhere near a 7:50 mm pace. Miles 4, 5 & 6 : 7:53, 7:51, 7:49. I tried to keep calm as I realized how amazing I was feeling, and the 3:35 pace group was behind me! That 7:49 mile felt ridiculously easy and I entered the beach (after cheering on my relay-ing friend, Kim) with a huge, euphoric smile on my face.

 

I underestimated The Beach.

 

looks so harmless, doesn't it?

 

I live in Florida. I've run on sand and dealt with chillier temps and wind, near the water. I was unprepared, however, for the endless, sand-filled gusts that were attacking us. While I knew that pushing hard and keeping my effort steady was the way to go, I was already realizing the unexpected toll it was going to take on my legs, later in the race.

 

Miles 7-9 were supposed to be at that 7:50 pace, but the sand slowed me down to 8:05, 8:24 & 8:11. I was already a bit ahead of where I needed to be to qualify for Boston, but I'd become attached to the idea of staying ahead of that 3:35 group. (I still know I'm fully capable of a 3:30 marathon. There. I've said it.) Moving on...

 

Leaving the beach was blissful, but I had to rally to shake of the fatigue those wind-filled, sandy miles had left me with. Luckily, neighborhood/crowd support was in full force in that area of Jacksonville. I maintained my form for my new, adoring fans. 

 

Mile 10 was a comfortable 7:52. The next stretch was a bit quieter, specator-wise. I was happy to have completed double digits, but was still too far away from the halfway point to really feel comfortable, yet. I ended up zoning out, a bit, as is my habit and ran 11-13 in 8:01, 8:06 & 8:07. I crossed the 13.1 mat ahead of my goal, but just barely.

 

I was still feeling infinitely better than I had been in the December marathon. I also decided it was time to turn off my brain, for a bit, as it was starting to let some negativity creep in. The ipod was switched on and I took a quick, mental break.

 

The 3:35 group passed me, and I was okay with that. They were still in sight. I knew I was slowing, but it wasn't considerable and I knew I had some time banked. Miles 14-16 : 8:04, 8:06, 8:11, 8:23.

 

uh-oh. Double-digits left to run, and my pace was creeping up. When mile 17 clicked off at 8:30, I had to start working so much harder, mentally, than I had the entire race. I reminded myself that I still felt good. (I really did) I was fatigued, but not sore. My stomach issues were non-existent, the sun was shining and the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

 

I peeled off my gloves & ear warmers with the hopes that I'd see The Husband or other friends, along the course and could toss them.

 

I glanced at my watch and saw an 8:4x, right after that 17th mile. UGGGHHH!!

 

I came around a corner and had caught up to a handful of marathoners (with the 1/2 marathon & relay being on the same course, you never know how fresh-legged the folks around you are) and an awesome realization hit me. I recognized the running form directly in front of me. It was a friend from my running group with whom I am extremely comfortable following.

 

That ended up being the relief I never knew I needed, but that showed up anyway. Mile 18: 8:17.

 

We wordlessly took turns leading, with brief water stop walks thrown in. He was starving and fading and I was running a marathon faster than I ever had. Not the best setup for teamwork, but it worked for us. While the next few miles were slower than I wanted, I fully believe they would've been even slower had I not been running with Josh.

 

Miles 19-22: 8:32, 8:32, 8:28, 8:35

 

By this time, I'd lost a glove, so I tossed the rest of my gear. (very sad about the loss of my favorite arm warmers, btw). I took my final gel, washed it down with some freezing water and just. held. on.

 

Around this point, I took my turn in the lead and Josh faded back. He never passed, again, but I knew he was close. I also knew I just needed to keep my remaining miles under 9 minutes/mile to finish under 3:40.

 

Typing this now, that seems SO easy! That morning, though, I was feeling tired enough to be ready to actually fall asleep. On my feet. It's hard to describe that type of fatigue, but it took everything I had, mentally and physically, to push through it. I drew on some of the thoughts I described in this post and kept telling myself it would be over, soon.

 

It felt like I was pushing hard enough to see 7:00 on that trusty ol' Garmin, but instead the final miles were pounded out in : 8:42, 8:39, 8:48 & 8:49.

 

There was a bridge. Hard doesn't begin to describe that climb during the last mile. There was panic at getting that far and seeing 3:4x on the finish clock. While that would have been a huge PR, for me, it was definitely not what I wanted to see. I also lost an earbud to the wind and was momentarily devastated at the lack of music drowning out my "Let's STOP RUNNING!" thoughts. Coming off the bridge, though, I saw two beautiful sights :

 

1. The Finish Line, adorned with pink balloons.

2. The girl in front of me pumping her fist across that Finish Line.

 

Why was that was beautiful? Because I knew she was in my age group and that she had just qualified for Boston.

 

I was close enough to see that I was going to do the same.

 

The last .36 (by my watch) : 7:45 pace (2:48)

 

I stumbled across and crashed into my poor husband who was trying to record the moment on his phone. Needless to say, that didn't work out so well, thanks to my ill-timed attack. I took for granted the fact that he, my sissy and my friends would be waiting. I'd completely forgotten the setup at this race that doesn't allow family/friends to be at the actual finish. Those sneaky guys had gone out of their way to be where they were. I'm so thankful, but totally not surprised.

I still love them

 

The bottom of my foot hurt pretty badly, as seems to be the norm when I wear the Pure Flows. The good they do outweighs that minor problem, though, so I stand by my decision to wear them for the marathon. Some overly attentive medics (maybe they read this post?) immediately showered me with ice and kind attention.

 

I was dazed and unable to form complete sentences, but I was done. Not only was I done, but I had shaved off almost 19 minutes from my best marathon time and had succeeded in qualifying for The Boston Marathon.

 

The day was still so beautiful, so I wasn't even a sweaty mess. I stretched...painfully, and grabbed my drop bag. Catching up with everyone was frenzied but ecstatic. Phone calls were made, hugs were plentiful and I even became BFs with Joan Benoit Samuelson! (well...we waved at each other, anyway)

 

There was quite a bit of re-fueling, that day, in the form of water, free beer, bananas, an entire pizza and a milkshake. In reality, I had no appetite. My brain tells me I need to replenish, though, so I do it. I actually didn't have much of an appetite for several days, later.

One marathon = one pizza

 

looked so tasty! Only managed a few sips. :(

 

P.S. I'm currently watching the race I hope to be running on this same day, next year. That's about the coolest distraction, ever, right now. ;)

 

For now, this is what I've got for you. I've had so much more to share, since then, but wanted to get this out, first. Thank you for waiting and reading!! 



 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



Short and (really) Sweet Sunday

So, the good news is : I managed to get a 19 minute PR (personal record) in my 3rd marathon, today!!

The other good news : Ha! I totally tricked you, didn't I?! You thought the good news was going to be followed by bad news. Nope. All good.

my only remaining arm warmer. boo.

 

That time, on that watch, qualified the owner of that arm for the 2014 Boston Marathon.

 

More details than you'll ever want to read are on their way...

Me + Jeff Gordon = Twins!

Fraternal, obviously.

This is really just a recap of a 5k. The title makes it sound much more exciting, though, doesn't it?! C'mon...would you have been just as excited to read a post called "I Ran a 5k. Read All About It"?

Didn't think so.

This was my first year racing in the Daytona 5k. My brother-in-law's wife picked it out for us, and I'm a pretty easy sell, when it comes to races.

in case you were picturing a scary Race Boss-Lady. She's actually very lovely, all around

 

The race starts on the Daytona International Speedway. It loops around the inside track and finishes on the track. So, the runners are pretty much. somewhat similar to? exactly like the drivers who race on the same Speedway!

 

Also, the race coincides with the Rolex 24, an actual Nascar race, so there were even die-hard fans camped out on the infield to complain about us waking them cheer us on! The concept was pretty cool, but it made for a stressful (for me) parking situation. The Husband drove me, my dad and the boys to the race and handled the poorly-marked signage like a champ.

 

Once parked, my dad and I managed to find a set of port-a-potties with NO LINE and we all hopped on the well-manned Tram to get to the packet pick-up area.

 

It was just under 50 degrees F, which made me ridiculously happy. It's so rare that we Floridians get to race in conditions like that. My high hopes for a PR inched up a notch higher.

 

Our goody bags contained a ticket to the Rolex 24, a couple of race flyers, a shirt and the standard biofreeze sample. I managed to end up with a tee shirt, instead of a tech shirt. This has happened to me before. Not a big deal, but I hadn't complained about anything since the Parking Problem, so I thought it was about time. The race wasn't terribly well-advertised, so I wasn't expecting much in the way of "swag". Despite this fact, over 800 people still showed to up run. Those kinds of numbers are pretty high for our area!

t-shirt proof

 

(I'm still pretty sure some of the participants were Nascar fans who may have wandered away from their campsites and ended up on the track.)

some other cuties who wandered onto the track

 

We found my brother-in-law (Alan) and his wife (Kristi-Anne) (pictured above, for reference) and pinned on our bibs without much time to spare. She'd drawn the short straw and would be pushing their toddler in the race. Alan would get to show off and beat us all, as per usual. This would be my dad's first race in over a year, due to persistent (and REALLY annoying) injuries so we were all pretty ready to start running. There was no time for a warm-up and no water to be found. (too soon for another complaint?), so we hurried over to where we thought the start would be.

 

There was an enormous mass of people that prevented us from even seeing where the start line was located. We saw one guy point in a vague direction and crossed our fingers that we'd see a timing mat, at some point. My dad, Alan and I saw people moving and assumed the race had started. Unsure if it was chip-timed at the finish AND start, I began weaving like a crazylady. The menfolk followed my lead and we eventually made our way out of the throng of racers.

 

While I don't love that sort of cluster at a start, I do have to admit it was pretty fun to pass that many people, once we got moving.

 

About 1/2 mile in, my BIL passed me and I focused on keeping his back in sight. I figured my dad was probably using me as a visual pacing reference, as well. I was feeling very strong, very much in control of my breathing and very confident with him about 30 feet in front of me.

 

And then I heard it. The annoyingly familiar snap-flop sound of my shoelaces, all willy-nilly and free, slapping the pavement.

 

"Aaaaahhh! Are you kidding me?!" 

 

Dear Mr. or Mrs. Brooks : I will give you ten, crisp dollars to fix the laces on these shoes.

Sincerely, Aggravated Consumer

 

In answer to your question : Yes. I always double-knot my shoes. These laces are notorious for coming undone and it was my own fault for not remembering that.

 

I made the agonizing to decision to step out of everyone's way and re-tie the shoe, as I felt it actually slipping off. While I had no qualms about finishing shoe-less, I would've felt awful about someone tripping over it. I didn't stop my watch and saw, later, that I lost over 25 seconds double-knotting (again!) the stupid shoe.

 

I re-focused and re-passed a lot of the racers who'd sped by me while I was crouched in annoyance. Alan, however, was merely a speck in the distance. Undeterred, and knowing I still had a decent chance of placing in my age group, I pressed on. 

 

Then, just after the 2nd mile marker, you'll never guess what happened! (those of you who already know the story, don't spoil it for the others, please)

 

The same, double-knotted, stupid, stinking, good-for-nothing laces came undone. Again. I'm still not at the point where I can think about it and laugh. It was really, really, really annoying and frustrating.

 

In a longer race, I could've made up the time. Not so much in a 5k.

 

This time, however, there was no way I was tying those things again. My gait was wonky, as I fought to curl my speedy foot inside the rapidly loosening shoe, but by golly I was not stopping. As if to taunt me, the laces themselves flew up and smacked me in the calf, repeatedly.

 

"Yoo hoo. We're untied and flopping about wildly!" the jerks teased.

 



Ironic Spoiler: I didn't fall. That happened the next day, with my laces firmly intact.

 

My watch showed 21:55 when I crossed the finish line. Being on the Official Racetrack, and all, I figured that was probably as accurate as a 5k was going to get. There weren't too many women in front of me, so I was pretty happy.

 

Not a PR, thanks to the unruly laces, but good enough to garner me:

 

6th Female, overall

1st Female, 35-39

44th, overall

shiny!

 

My brother-in-law also finished 1st in his division and my dad, 5th. My sister-in-law, in an effort to end the protests of my stroller-bound nephew, flew through the race with a sub-28 minute finish!

me and my fastie daddy. Kinda posing...kinda trying not to roll down the steep bank

 

Alan & I, awkwardly proclaiming our results...and trying not to roll down the steep bank

 

 

The kids race started right on time, which is always awesome. The folks in charge forgot to bring ribbbons to hand out, though. Not quite so awesome.

 

The Littlest, powering through the Finish

The Middlest, leading a cutthroat pack

 

We found some other runner-friends and caught up during the awards ceremony. After I fought my way through the paparazzi, though, to head to the car, I was very sad to discover all the post-race goodies had been packed up and taken away. Missing out on bagels and bananas may have been more upsetting than the lack of a PR, for me.

 

In Summary:

 

• I'd recommend this race. It's a fun and unique experience with a good-sized turnout and smooth organization.
• Don't try to park where you see the giant, well-light "Competitor Parking" sign. It's not meant for you. Drive down the road until you see a small arrow and confusing rows of vehicles.
• I can't guarantee you'll get a tech shirt. If you do, can I trade you?
• If you see me, on the racetrack, steer clear. It's very likely that my shoelaces are untied and I don't want you to trip me us.
• If you see a dark-haired girl, with a adorable-yet-vocal toddler in a jogging stroller, steer clear of her, too. She may run you down in an effort to finish and free him from his restraints.
• When you finish the race, make a beeline for the food tables and just start grabbing. That stuff will be gone before you know it.
• If you get tired, these guys know the perfect place to relax and reflect on the race

Somewere out there, a jealous Nascar fan is dying to have that white paint all over their backside

 

Ever been to a Nascar race?

 

Do you have any tricks for keeping laces tied?

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 





Answers for Un-Asked Questions

Alternate Title : You never asked, I'll answer anyway!

Also, thanks for weighing in on the last post's questions. If you didn't, yet, there's still time! You'll totally win a prize for providing the best answer, too! (Not!)

A lot of bloggers get asked enough questions, that said bloggers can create entire posts dedicated to quenching their readers' thirst for knowledge about them and the life they lead. I don't really get asked any questions, specifically.

This fact will never lead me to believe my life is un-interesting, though. My readers are simply left reeling from the burst of excitement I inect, into their (your) days, with each and every pointless post!

Imaginary Question #1: Haven't seen you around the interwebs, lately. Have you still been running? Yes. I've run in 81 degree afternoons and 40 degree mornings, all in the same week. (Florida weather's pretty interesting, huh?). I expertly avoided a PR in a 15k relay, this past weekend.

not a jump of excitement. The timing mat didn't register me the 1st (or 2nd) time across

 

I counted the 5k as my speedwork and threw in a couple, double-digit runs, too. Everything's been going well and I'm excited for my last few races of the season. I have another 5k, this weekend, that I get to run with some family members. Very awesome.

 

Next weekend, (wow. Is it really coming up that soon?!) I'm going to try to beat last year's time at this half marathon. I love the course, after party and family events there. The two bridge crossings are not real high on my "love" list, but they probably won't kill me.

 

I'll let you digest those two races for a couple days before we dive into the rest of my schedule.

 

Imaginary Question #2: Did you just stop typing up this post to peek through your blinds to watch your neighbors scream at each other? Yes. Yes I did. Lesson : Scream at your spouse inside your house. It's very likely your nosy neighbors are watching when you do it outside.

 

Imaginary Question #3: Do you often, silently curse your dad for giving you chronic Achilles tendinitis? If you're reading this and you ARE my dad, then the answer is no. Of course not. If, however, you happen to be anyone other than my dad, then yes. Yes I do. Out of all of his amazing attributes, he decided to pass on bad teeth and hopelessly weak tendons.



thanks a bunch, dad

 

There are countless other questions no one has asked me, that I feel the need to answer. For now, though, I have to continue to clean up Birthday Weekend 2013. The Oldest and Middlest's birthdays are one day apart, so the partying aftermath tends to look a little something like this:

They had fun and that's all that matters

 







Pretend I asked YOU a meaningful question and go ahead and answer it :

New Year, New Post

The running portion of my 2012 ended with uneventful miles. Sadly, I didn't make the connection, until after the run, that it'd be my final one of the year. I'd like to think that I'd have done something clever to commemorate it, had I realized it sooner.

Instead, I ran three, easy miles, with some running friends and then dropped my ipod.

I've got to find a better way to celebrate milestones.

Boo! :(

 

The worst part is that the resilient little sucker still works just fine. It refuses to be replaced.

 

Soon, I would like to  recap my running and racing from the previous year. I'd love to re-live some of the moments and hope to learn from the ones I'd prefer to pretend never happened. Today's not the day for all that, though.

 

Today is more about this:

Eraser Tea!

 

In a pathetic attempt to counteract the effects of this:

much tastier than tea

 

Before your start imagining me, as a wild partying animal, I have to confess I was the first guest to make my way up to bed. I did stay up past midnight (go, me!) but definitely won the Boring Old Lady Award.

Me and some non-boring ladies







 

Today also turned out to be an un-planned rest day from running. I'm sure my body is thanking me for the break, anyway. Tomorrow will likely involve a few more miles (what else can I drop and break?!) and more pathetic attempts to not stress about :

yikes



 

How did you ring in 2013?

 



 



Short & Sweet Holiday Sunday

Happy Week!

Happy Sunday!

Happy New Years Eve Eve!

Some of today's joys included but were not limited to :

managed to avoid *that* particular pile. Stepped in many others, I'm sure

 

A sunrise, 7+ mile, trail run. I haven't attempted one of these for months, after embarassing myself by getting lost so frequently. Happy to report this didn't happen, this morning!! Save your congratulatory responses, though. This is only because I faithfully stuck to a more experienced trail runner who led and paced us brilliantly.

 

38 degrees! Time to bust out the capris & tall socks.

 

 

hot cocoas in the sunshine

 

What's making you happy, today? 





Day 23 For You and Me

In retrospect, I may've been keeping that whole "end of the world" thing in my back pocket when I came up with this Adventrageous plan. You know...I think I thought there was a decent chance I may not have to actually have to come up with any more posts after 12-21.

Moving on...

Today's Topic: Runners are crazy. As a runner or even person who knows a runner, I'm pretty sure this statement has come up before. This isn't a groundbreaking discovery. I'm not the first person to ackowledge this, nor will I be the last.

The whole "please let me pay someone to let me run 26.2 miles all at once" issue, aside, sometimes runners think things like this are a good idea. If you don't feel like clicking on the link, here's how my latest running adventure went down :

There was a scheduled Running Group meetup that started at 11:30 pm. It was just over 30 degrees F, which, in Florida terms, is equivalent to sub-zero. My dad, sister, friend and I bundled up and ran from my house to the meetup. (because simply running 3 miles, with the group, would not have been enough weirdness?)

The runners who showed up were grumbling about how cold and late it was, but had obviously not been forced/threatened to be there. This means, deep down, we were all pretty darned giddy about the prospect.

As with most other run, we set off, in small groups, with no fanfare. It was a clear night so the moon, stars and neighborhood Christmas lights were highly visible and beautiful to see. The quiet stillness of the time of day (night?) allowed me to hear snippets of panting conversations from the 30 or so other running friends circling the route.

My own chatter was endless.

In August of 2011, my dad took me as his guest to my very first run with this group. It was a 5 am run, on the same route, so the scene looked very similar. So much time has passed since I've been able to run, with my dad, in the dark that I couldn't seem to shut up. My dad's still re-building his cardio so he wasn't quite as chatty as me. Rest assured I babbled on and on enough to cover both of us.

(sorry, dad)

We finished the route and I was feeling so energized and happy, that I made a snap decision to zip back out for a self-timed, speedy mile while everyone else finished up. At midnight. People-dodging and aching lungs (have I mentioned it was cold?!) forced me to cut it off at a 1/2 mile, but it felt so good to run fast.

We chatted, in the cold, for a little longer and then the four of us headed back to my house, as there were people waiting on their crazy runners.

some runners wisely rewarded themselves with beers

 

Fun, happy, crazy times. Just think...if I weren't a runner, I'd have no reason to be outside, in the cold, wheezing and sweating at midnight!

 

Today's share: Gracie is one of those naturally talented, extremely fast runners who you're not allowed to be jealous of because she's also incredibly humble. Sucks, huh? I get inspired by her writing and am in awe of her artistic talent and fashion sense. I'm pretty sure people aren't allowed to be so multi-talented, actually.

I hope you'll visit her blog. She's currently on a bit of a running hiatus (other than the possibly ill-timed 10 miler, recently) and can probably use some new readers/encouragement. 

 

What sort of crazy have you recently involved yourself in? 

Happy Times for Day 22

Now that I've recapped That Thing Which Must Not Be Named (hereby shortened to "That Thing", or the like), and have gotten annoyed all over again, I'm moving on to happier posts. If for no other reason than, It's Christmas.

I do, Actually, LOVE this movie

Since, That Thing, I have had some of my happiest runs, ever. I carved out at least a week of recovery time, and figured I'd be flexible and add even more time, if necessary. However, due to the nature of the way I ran The Thing, and some very solid, wasted training, I ended up feeling 100% recovered just a couple days after TT.

This was good news for several reasons:

• I was anxious to get back to running...not training. It wasn't an obsessive desire out of habit. I just needed to make sure I still loved it.
• I wanted to do something to get my mind off That Thing. Walking gives you waaaayyy too much time to think, dwell and get angry.
• My oft-injured dad has been (knock on wood) feeling good enough to pick up his running, again.
• He, my sissy and I all had time in our schedule to be at the same group run. At the same time.

post-run. We're not generally that shiny

 

That was an awesome run, with even more awesome people. In completely unplanned (hooray for no more training runs!) fashion, I started out nice and conservatively and effortlessly negative splitted the heck out of the rest of the few miles.

 

It turns out I do, actually, still love running. I love, actually, my family even more and Christmas is pretty cool, as well. So, getcher waffles ready. The next few days are going to be dripping with sweet, syrup-y love-talk. I can't plan these things, but I can surely spread the good cheer when I'm enveloped in it.

Was that subliminal enough? Even if you've already watched "Love Actually", this year, go ahead and watch it again. You have my blessing.

Day 18, Chapter One

Yes, it's okay to mix Adventrageous with Marathon Recaps. Also, in an effort to make this story more reader-friendly, it'll need to be broken down into a couple of parts. Short parts! Don't worry!

Chapter One : Fog, Smiles and Happy Feet

 

not from Marathon Morning, but you get the gist

 

A group of running friends, with The Husband as our fearless driver, met at our house at 4:00 am. We loaded up a 15-passenger van and drove to Jacksonville for the race. It was fun to have lots of other running stories and nervous goals to focus on, other than my own.

 

The time passed quickly. I ate the breakfast I'd brought, two hours prior to the start time, drank my water and coffee and enjoyed everyone's company. We made one group-necessary pitstop and parked with only some minor issues.

 

From there, it got a little hectic. I make it a habit to have everything done and be lined up nice and early on race days. I love and need to have those moments to calm down, reflect and ease into the day. Instead, I ended up jogging to the start right as they shot the cannon. There was an enormous cluster of people where I needed to be and I barely squeezed in to get over the starting mat. Yuck, but I shook it off.

 

At this point, I have to get some the Runner Geek talk out of my system. Feel free to skim if this doesn't interest you.

I was pacing myself for a 3:36 marathon. This gave me a nice, big cushion to get in under my actual goal of 3:40. When you look at my other marathon result, that goal just seems silly. However, based on my more recent half marathon time, every pace calculator assures me I can run a 3:30 marathon. While the 3:40 goal is ambitious, it's within my capabilities.

(I still believe that!)

I gave myself a conservative start, building slowly to some faster, early miles and then allowed some wiggle-room for the inevitable (for me) positive splits in the second half of the race. With this plan in mind, the first twelve miles went by like magical clockwork.

It was foggy and about 60 degrees at the start. I was nervous about the later heat being a factor, but the morning weather was pretty nice. The humidity was above 80%, the entire time, but I live in Florida. I can deal.

My entire body felt insanely perfect. No aches, no nagging injuries, no nerves. There was nothing but happy feet and smiles surrounding me. I was hitting every mile at exactly the pace I wanted. It wasn't difficult to maintain, nor did I even really have to think about it.

Everything was simply falling into place exactly as I had trained for.

I waved at the festive spectators. I saw The Husband and gave him a big smile so he knew I was right on target. I chatted with a lady with a similar pace goal and we took turns pacing each other. I faithfully sipped my GU Brew-filled, water. I completely deviated from my original fueling plan starting at mile 3...(oops. foreshadowing)

Between miles 12 and 13, my pace started to slip a teeny bit. My new pacing friend's did not, so I just kept her in sight and turned my ipod on. I wasn't too worried, though. I knew I'd see some running friends at the halfway point. One guy was even going to try to jump in and run with his girlfriend (and me, if I could time it right).  If I could just hang on a bit longer, things would continue to fall into place. The miles would undoubtedly be tough, but I was still feeling great.

Anything below a 1:50:00 half was necessary for a 3:40 finish. My 13.1 (halfway point) split was 1:48:55.

Absolutely no reason to panic.