Category Archives: Races

Last week at Hannah’s bidding (and because Ann was already registered), Brady and I registered for the Medtronic TC 1 Mile.  Held on Nicollet Mall (a car-free road that cuts through the heart of Minneapolis), it is the second largest road mile in the country.

Plus, with my foot (and the scratch), 1 mile seemed really…reasonable in the scheme of things.

Since we all know how much I don’t love 5ks, we decided to have a little bit of fun with this one.  Hence, the neon and sparkle bands.

Are we not fetching?  Sometimes going hardcore thematic is key.

Plus I finally got to meet Carissa (also riding the injured list), since that obviously did not happen in the hypothermic hell that was Get in Gear.

I like to think that today made up for that, because the weather was beyond gorgeous.  A little bit hot even.  Summery.

I’m kind of hoping that tomorrow’s “prize” will be a tan.

Anyway, there were a number of different “waves” for the race since there were 3200 people registered.  You can’t just have that many people running around willy-nilly.

Take for instance, the Friends and Family Wave.

How nice, right?  That corral was packed to the gills.

We decided to run in the Open Wave (before the Championship) because we thought that it would be the largest field with, the largest number of hot man-runner-legs best scenery.

Honesty.  It’s what we do.

What actually happened.  After the Friends and Family Wave we watched the Corporate Team Challenge Wave.  And the MN Team Circuit Championship Wave.

At which point we asked ourselves, are we there yet?

By the time that the Masters were queuing up in the corral, we looked at one another and realized that whereas 1,000 people probably ran in the Friends and Family Wave, there were only going to be 100-200 of us in the Open Wave.

If you’re a runner, then while you know that those numbers are GREAT for staying out of traffic, they’re not the best when you’re kind of/sort-of/really counting on a bit of camouflage.

The horror.

So we paraded into the corral with the rest of the leftovers and put our game faces on.  Because what else were we going to do, really?

Well, actually, we briefly contemplated joining-up with the Masters Wave.  But it just seemed a little bit…inappropriate.

Ann and I decided to stick together (neither of us had a specific goal time or race plan) and I regaled her with a total stream-of-consciousness ramble for the entirety of the 12:15 that we were out on the course.

Like, we’re talking All The Things.  It was some seriously intense stuff.

Since we were in the last wave before the Men’s and Women’s Championships, there were a TON of runners from earlier waves out on the course (not to mention the number of people packing the street-side patios at the restaurants on the course).

This resulted in a great deal of cheering (for us, specifically) and a nearly inappropriate amount of pageant waving (the diva heart cannot be tamed).

There are just some situations where more is more.

But, suffice it to say, as far as the Friends and Family wave is concerned?  Lesson learned.

Have you ever run a 1 Mile race?

I know, I know.  We’re a day early.

But tomorrow night I have some pretty spectacular stuff happening, and I want to be able to tell you all about it then.

So.  This week in Running.

After a disasterous five-miler on Tuesday, I put on my big girl pants and acknowledged the fact that my body needed a break.

Once I wrapped up an amount of Googling that I was comfortable with, I came to the conclusion that what I’ve been running on is Tendonitis.

Tendonitis is an overuse injury.  The way to treat overuse?  Is very simple.

STOP USING IT.

Translation: I went full-bore on the bike.  While I’ve had more fun in my life, I’m lucky that my parents own a stationary bike (so I don’t have to pay to access one) and that they only live ~3 miles away.  I’ve been able to pop over after work and get my workout done without having to put a lot of thought into it.

Which, as we all know, is pretty much my secret to success.

All of this is going somewhere, I promise.

I was supposed to run the Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon this morning.

And at packet pick-up last night I reasoned that I could always just run 3-6 miles of the course and call it a day.  If I felt pain, I could just pull off the course and have Marcus come pick me up.

Like, how hard is that, really?

To my credit, when I woke up this morning, my foot felt 99% good.

99% ≠ 100%.

I knew that if I went to the starting line the only way I was going to leave the course is if I crossed the finish line or got stuffed into the back of an ambulance.

Hello, reality check.

So while today was supposed to be my 5th half-marathon, it ended up being my 1st DNS.

Ann, Brady and Jillian were absolute gems through all of this.  Ann was planning to spectate the race, so we were in touch for all of 24 hours and Brady checked-in with me after the race to see what actually ended up happening since I gave her the whole enchilada earlier in the week.  Jillian sent me a separate e-mail tonight confirming that my choice was the sane one.

What I so love these ladies for, is that they were SO supportive of my decision.  They understand that for me, if I do not make it to the starting line at Two Harbors, then everything else I have done this spring has been a waste.

All of my eggs are in that basket.

Since I was +1 bib (I didn’t know anyone who was in shape/at the right place in their plan to run 13. 1 as “Katherine” this weekend) and still needed to log the miles, I slapped it on with some cycling clothes and rolled over to my parents to get going.

And yes, seriously, I bought myself some cute new gear for The Bike, because somehow I suspect that even once I’m feeling 100%, this will likely become the new cross-training method of choice.

Since I wasn’t going to run (I’m making an extremely concerted effort to maintain my cardio/stamina), I ended up logging 2:10 on the bike. Which is to say, the same amount of time that I was planning to spend on the course this morning.

Yes, seriously.

I managed to talk Dad into grabbing a snap of me mid-cycle.  Apparently I’m even less photogenic when I’m on a bike.

Go figure.

I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I talked myself through the last 10 minutes like it was the last 1.1 miles of the race.

I ended up logging 34.50 miles.  I have no idea of whether or not that’s good.  But by the finish I was a sweaty mess and extremely proud of myself for sticking it out.

Post-ride, I wasn’t entirely sure what I should do with my bib, because I save mine.  But what do you do with a bib for a race that you didn’t actually run?

And then, very immediately, the answer became apparent to me.

The Inspiration Wall.

Because there is going to be another training cycle where I need to take some time off and I’m going to need a heavy dose of perspective.  Like I said, a 5th half-marathon this morning would have been pretty fantastic.

But my world did not end when I did not start.

I still managed to find the time to log the miles and do the work.

On Day 41, that’s what really matters.

What’s your favorite brand of workout gear?

Runners: Have you ever logged a DNS?

Race day, what?

No, I wasn’t intentionally trying to hide something from y’all.

To make a long story extremely short, I had a 20 miler on the calendar this weekend and I opted to do it by running 7 + 13.1.  I thought that it would be nice to be able to run on a course with water stops and that I would have a lot more incentive to finish strong if I was being timed.

Oh, and this race marks my second birthday as a runner.  Not the “exact” date (we’re four days off), but running the Get in Gear 5k was my first race ever two years ago!

What was exactly the same about both of them: The unceasing rain.  The cold.  The wind.  It didn’t really pick up until 9 AM (gun time), so I didn’t have to deal with it for the first seven miles.  But once we were in it, we were in it.

Also the same: The appearance of the snappy blue Nike visor that has been a holdout from the days when I was a lifeguard at summer camp. 

Yes, in a past life I made my living parading up and down a dock in a red swimsuit.  It was a pretty sweet gig.

Today, that is neither here nor there.

Anyway, the visor.  I have only run in that visor once before and you had better believe that it was during that 5k.

Spooky coincidences, I know.

I think what set this race apart from so many others I have run is that instead of being in a competitive mode, I thought about some advice I gave Brady earlier this week.  I was grateful to log the miles.

My right foot has been a real treat to live with for the past week and so I didn’t even know if I was going to run this weekend.  At all.

I seriously considered deferring my entry or at the very least, exchanging it for entry to the 10k.  But instead of living in the gray land between victory and defeat, I decided to go big.

My rationale? I either wanted to have a GREAT long run or break a body part in such a definitive and clear-cut way that when I turned myself in to medical professionals, they would actually know how to deal with the situation.

Nagging injuries are their own special circle of hell.

Obviously I didn’t end up in an ambulance (win).

What I can say about the day is that there are few runs where I have experienced such a strong sense of gratitude.   Y’all know that I am a major fair-weather runner, so to be able to log the miles in those conditions with a smile on my face, finishing strong and without excruciating pain meant the world to me.

I was able to accomplish what I set out to do.

I will be forever grateful to Amber the Chiropractor and Darren the Aerospace Engineer from Lifetime Fitness in Savage.  Around Mile 9.5 I realized we were all kind of sticking together, so I asked them what their plan was for the remainder of the race.

Their plan = Keep the pace and finish running.

That was exactly what I was hoping to hear.  I KNEW that if I could find people to keep focus on as I continued to will my body forward (this was Mile 16 of my morning…I could not feel my legs), that I would be more likely to keep moving period.

So they let me tag along and we alternated between workshopping (they’re also doing the Tough Mudder Sunday Session) and rocking out on our iPods.

In case you were wondering what sort of bond can be formed between three running strangers, we definitely exchanged hugs after crossing the finish line.

Final time for the 13.1 = 2:05:51.  Considering that those miles were the back 2/3 of my long run, and the weather was (bluntly) horrid, I am extremely proud of that.

Post-race I had a more disheartening moment than that one time where Marcus was at brunch and couldn’t bring me ice for an ice bath.

You see, I was planning on meeting up with Ann, Jay, Hannah and Nancy (madre of Ann) once we all crossed the finish line because Nancy had our sweats.

What we did not think through: We were all crossing the finish line at different times, and while I had Ann’s number, I didn’t have Nancy’s OR Jay’s.

FAIL.

So, soaking wet and with only the space blanket that I Houdini-ed out of my Spibelt, I realized that I was totally alone on this earth and without any dry clothes to stave of hypothermia.

Yes, it was seriously just like that.

Thank the Lord for the kind woman in the pavilion who was doling out dry clothing from The Island of Misfit Toys to Runners Who Looked Like They Really Needed It.  Marcus is I am now +1 men’s size large, royal blue, long-sleeved technical shirt.

Without going into anymore details about The Shivering  or the part where I used the hand-dryer in the bathroom in an attempt to dry my pink shirt, we all crossed the finish line.

I’d like to say that it all got better.  That I couldn’t see my breath.  That the rain let-up.  That the wind slowed.  But the reality is that by the time we made it back to Ann and Jay’s, we were all but completely numb and ready to throw our bodies into the electric fireplace in an attempt to warm-up.

Sometimes you just have to accept the natural order of things.

What have you been up to this weekend?

Get in Gear Runners, how was your race?

Last weekend, we had snow and temperatures below freezing.

When the gun went off on Saturday morning for the 100% Irish For A Day 5k it was (albeit a bit windy) clear, sunny and in the 40s.

The 5k group + the 10k group. The other instructor hadn't joined us quite yet!

I wasn’t sure if I was going to bring a “toss shirt,” until we found ourselves across the street from Ragstock on Friday night.  Let the record show that $5 can buy you happiness in the form of something light blue with a zipper.

Before we headed to the start line, I took it off, folded it up and placed it by one of the pillars at the Lake Harriet Bandshell on top of the piece of neon yellow poster board I had used to round-up all of my runners with before the race.  I wanted to make it easy for whoever was going to grab it to…grab it.

Can we just talk about how nice runners are?

Because as Marcus and I were walking past the bandshell after the race, my sweatshirt was still there.  So it will race again.

Going to the start line this time around, I didn’t have any race day adrenaline.  I did however have fresh legs and a pre-race dinner of enchiladas and flautas going for me.

So there’s that.

Some people might give you a blow-by-blow of each mile of the course.  It was 3.1 miles.  You don’t need to know how I spent every minute.  So instead I will tell you three things about the course:

• I had no idea that if you ran on the road around Lake Harriet that there were so many hills on the far side of the lake.
• The headwind we ran into during the last half-mile was vicious.
• Molly’s idea to stand in the front portion of the corral was geinus.  There was NO traffic (my least favorite part of racing), no runners with weirdly long strides and no runners trying to take me out with their elbows.

Amen.

Something I’m really trying to work on in my running, especially when it comes to race day is being Mentally Present.  Because mental presence keeps you from getting too comfortable while you’re out on the course.

This is a race, after all.

And apparently, according to like every running book/article I’ve read lately, if you’re not actively focusing on the race you’re running, you’re not going to make your goals.

So I did that.  Or my interpretation of that.  The thinking.  The focusing.  The pushing.

My final time?  24:14.

I was BEYOND thrilled.  I thought it was possible that I could break 26:00.  But blowing 25:00 out of the water?  Felt really good.

Ann and I at the finish line. I had to choose between a snap of us where we are missing part of our feet or the snap of us where I am missing part of my body. Feet are more important to runners. Obviously.

Post-race, I stood at the finish line to watch my runners cross.  I was so excited to see them finish strong, healthy and proud!

It’s hard to quantify how much of a difference 10 weeks can make in anyone’s running, but seeing it first hand and being able to share that transformation with my 5k group was incredible.

Are you participating in any St. Patrick’s Day-themed races this year? 

Tundra inhabitants: What have you been doing to welcome spring?

This morning is graduation day for my 5k clinic runners and we’re running the 100% Irish For A Day 5k along with the 10k clinic girls at Lake Harriet.

What I can say about the last 10 weeks is that they went by much faster than I ever could have expected; and they turned me into a real, in-the-flesh, runs in the bitter cold Minnesota Winter Runner.

Did I mention that I got to work with new runners?  Because there was that, too.

I can’t wait to cheer each of them across the finish line.

For a bit of reference, the last 5k I ran was in October 2010.  I was extremely hungover, I managed to (1) avoid puking on the course and (2) PR.

My friends will all tell you that I prefer not to race that distance because by the time we get to the finish line, I’ve only just started to get into my groove.  It’s like some sort of cruel trick or something.

That being said, since it has been nearly a year and a half, I’m excited to put a solid effort in and see what time I can pull out of this.

Knowing how much they simplify my life, I took the time to do some arm-splits.

So we’ll see how that works out.  A PR for me in this race would be anything under 28:47.

What we will also be testing: Whether flautas are a valid pre-race meal.  So far the verdict on that one is YES.

Praying for an empty bladder, strong legs and a safe finish.

I don’t write very often about bad runs on the blog.  Because unless I finish a run and feel outright pissed or nauseous, I’m the glass half-full girl who puts another tally in the “win” column.

But it’s November.

There are no races in sight.

I realized that in order to hit my mileage goal for the week, I’m going to have to switch to early AM runs (read: 4:30 AM wake-up calls) for the next two days.

How nice.

Last Thursday I was particularly fussed and not in the mood to move.  At all.  So I put my ear buds in and threw on my running sunglasses and called it a 10k.

Because sometimes, that’s just how we do.

Marcus grabbed a few snaps when he walked in the door.  We live in a split-level, so he had no idea that he was going to be coming home to…this.

Speed demon.

It was the silliest, stupidest fix, but it worked.  And like 99% of my runs, when I was done I felt better than I did when I walked in the door.

Some days a glass of wine is the answer.  On other days it’s wearing my arm warmers.  It’s the fact that they get me on the treadmill that counts.

Numero Uno on my list of days that can’t be a “bad” running day?

Thanksgiving!

Yes, y’all are cordially invited to participate in the 2nd Annual Treadmill in the Basement Turkey Trot.  The course is located wherever you are (at home, at a gym).  Distance-wise, it can be as long or short as you would like for it to be.  It is pet friendly.  There is a personal bathroom for each racer and every stop is a water stop.

The Bib Situation…

1. Wear one of your old bibs

Don’t lie.  We’ve all saved them.  Except for my first 5k bib.  And the bib from the Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon that I ripped off in a fit of rage after I returned home, beaten and tired.  But whatever.  You probably have one lying around.  Even if you don’t think so.  Kind of like how I found my 10 mile bib a few days before the marathon.  Runners are hoarders.  It just happens.

2. Make a bib

To do so, source a priority mail envelope from the post office.  This is as easy as stopping by the post office, walking in, grabbing one of those envelopes and walking out.

Cut a bib out.  You’ll notice that one side is totally white.  This is the side you want to use.  You know, unless you’re into the blue/red motif.  Or want to pretend that USPS is sponsoring your race.   In which case, keep the outside.

Finally, ink it.  I’d recommend taking this opportunity to use your name as your number like PAULA and DEENA.  Because for most of us, this is the only chance we’ll ever get.

And you, dear, are ready to race.

Running Pack in the Sky: What are your Thanksgiving race plans?

What tricks do you use to get through bad runs?

They say you run 10 miles with your head, 10 miles with your legs and 6 miles with your heart.

But the most important order of business that we need to address: Above all of the other things that happened during the race, I did not have to pee.

Also, y’all should know that when things started to get really rough,  I loved thinking of our Running Pack in the Sky.  I knew that while I was trying to fight up a three-mile stretch of hill, you were hiking, running and ellipticalling with me.

I was NEVER alone.

Amen.

Running is joy.

The first 14 miles of the race were honest-to-goodness the most fun I’ve ever had running.  Period.

I could not stop smiling.

The spectators were incredible.  Even though I usually run with music, I slashed the volume in half so that I could listen and enjoy.

The tolling of the bells at the Basilica.  The cowbells.  The whooping.  The thundersticks.  The music blaring out of speakers at block parties.  I fist pumped and waved and pointed at them all.   I high-fived more kids than I could count on all of my fingers and toes.

Running is a gift.

Miles 14-18 were a battle.  I fought like hell and hung on to the pace, but every step was a conscious choice.

At mile 18 I completely fell off of the wagon.  But even though my body hit THE WALL at full-force, mile 18 was also the point where I KNEW that I was going to finish the marathon.

The gift?  Even though I was in pain, my leg was not.  I got to choose how I was going to finish.

The method to the madness…

I ran until it hurt, at which point I walked.

I walked until it hurt at which point I started running again.

I ran when it was faster than walking and I walked when it was faster than running.

Did I look like Damaged Goods or something that escaped from The Island of Misfit Toys?  Absolutely.

But I did not stop and I did not let my body win.

Running is love.

This was my day.

The first.

The realization of the shadow of a dream that took root five years ago when I watched my sorority sisters cross the finish line.

My family was waiting for me at the 25.8 mile mark.  Despite their protests, I stopped and hugged all of them before making one last (tiny) push around the bend to that blessed view of the finish line.

So y’all can imagine how incredibly surprised I was as I came down the finish chute and Ann was there screaming my name.

Crossing the line?  Was surreal.  I’ve only crossed a handful of finish lines in my life, but this was different.

Freeing.  Real.  Final.

Jenelle (as promised) was waiting for me on the other side of the line to welcome me home.  To pounce on me and to watch me stuff a water bottle and two nut rolls in my running top.

What else are sorority sisters for?

Recovery.

Honestly, I don’t get uncomfortably stiff after my long runs.  But the moment I crossed over the finish line, my entire body screamed.

As we were pulling out of St. Paul, I asked Marcus to call David and source 10 lbs of ice for an ice bath.  Have I ever Ice Bath-ed before?  Absolutely not.  Did I really know what I was doing?  No.  But I did know that my legs felt so incredibly bad that there was no way that sitting in a tub full of ice cubes could be worse.  So I did the sensible thing and threw on a swimsuit and my arm socks (I adore them 11/10), got some water into the tub and had Marcus pour the ice over my legs.

I kid you not when I say it might be one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced in my entire natural life.

Truth.

I’m not entirely sure that any of this has really sunk in yet.  I lived it so presently and felt it so keenly, and yet thinking about it is like watching a videotape of someone else’s life.

I know that I moved my body over 26.2 miles, and yet what that actually means is only starting to sink in.

I finished a marathon.

4:41:17?  Was not the time that I ever had in mind for my race.  But it was only a couple of weeks ago that picking up my packet didn’t look like it was going to be an option anymore.

What I do understand completely: On one beautiful first Sunday morning in October, I got to run.  Which is what I’ve wanted to do more than anything else in the world on that day for the past year.

I was healthy.

I was strong.

I was capable.

I was able to enjoy the view from the cathedral at the top of the hill.

It was perfect.