Crystal Lake Half Marathon Recap: For the fun of it.

Well, I did it for fun, but also as a marathon-pace practice race.  I do think it sad that I sign up for a half marathon these days without batting an eye.  When I was a newer runner, I used to agonize over every longer-distance race, wondering if I had it in me to finish within a decent time.

Now I'm all like, "Half marathon?  When?  I'm in."  Sick.  Sick and wrong, I know.

I ran this half marathon last year.  I was actually training for another half at the time, but got what's known as "sick" with the sinus infection from Hades and ended up not running it.  This is not because I am a wimp; when you spend the night before a race with a fever and a head that feels like a block of wood and wake up surrounded by more used tissues than bed sheets, I would think you would tend to come down on the side of "I would not like this to develop into pneumonia if I run" rather than "I will (literally) suck it up and run even if it means I will spend the next 3 months in the hospital."

So, rather than run sick and get sicker, I decided to bag that race and sign up for the Crystal Lake Half Marathon two weeks later.  I still wasn't totally well by then (that's how bad this infection was), but I managed a 1:57.  Not my best time, but a steep hill at mile 9 got me and then I ended up doing a run/walk for the final miles of the race.  I was disappointed, but glad I snuck in under 2 hours.

This year, since I am training for a marathon, I decided to use this race as a marathon-race pace race (say that 3 times fast) so I could get a feel for running my projected pace for 13 miles.  I knew that my marathon pace (9:30) would put my time for the half at over 2 hours, but that was alright.  I must keep reminding myself that the goal is to get to my marathon starting line uninjured and well-rested.

Plus, it was kind of nice to run a half and not bust a gut the whole time.

The weather was almost perfect-cool (in the 60s) and cloudy, with the sun staying away for the entire race.  The only thing that sucked was the humidity; at the start of the race it was actually misty/rainy.  I was drenched by mile 4, with my shirt sticking to my gut uncomfortably thereafter.

This guy was stretching in front of my car.  Grey skies everywhere.

Drenched by the end.  Shirt is stuck to my ginormous gut.

Since this was a training run, technically, let's review what I learned about my training at this point (4 weeks from my marathon), shall we?

• I have a tendency to speed up.  I caught myself many times running in the 8:30s.  I had to continually force myself to slow the freak down so I could practice my marathon pace.
• Pacing people is a great way to force yourself to slow the freak down.  Then, after you've gotten in some "rest" behind them, pass them. 
• I passed 5 guys wearing Ragnar Chicago shirts.  This gave me all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings inside.  I counted them as "kills."
• I maintained a pretty even average pace for 10 miles (around 9:15). Good to know I can be consistent.
• This race was a great way to practice my hill strategy.  Twin Cites is going to be hilly, and this race had a few good-sized hills up in there.  I had to focus on slowing down and picking up my feet (along with keeping my feet under me and not overstriding).
• I wore my Brooks Glycerin 11s to see how they would feel for 13 miles.  I think these will be my marathon shoes.
• Only in mile 12 did I start to get winded, but that's because I was trying to book it at an 8:30 straight into 12 mph winds.  I saw someone I knew at that point that was walking, and stopped to chit-chat for a bit.  That reset my lungs and I was able to finish strong.  But still....all that speed work is paying off.  I think I can maintain between a 9:30 and 9:45 for this marathon coming up.
• I wanted to quit and walk several times after mile 10.  But my trick is to think about how tired my legs really are--if, after I do a mental check, realize that they are not all that tired, I find that I can push on.
• I still assume everyone is better than me.  While waiting at the starting line, I kept looking at people and thinking, "They're going to beat me."  I am glad to report that I passed around 70% of those people, mostly in the final miles.

So, how did I do overall?  Check it out:

2:02.  Not bad; not bad at all for someone who was actually trying to run slower than that.  I was expecting between 2:00 and 2:05, so this is dead on for me.  I know that a 9:20 pace is actually faster than I should have run, but at least now I know that I can run at least half of that marathon near my projected pace.

I guess this race wasn't just for training--it was also to give me a little confidence in the pace I have chosen, which it did.  I'll see if it that confidence remains four weeks from now when I'm standing in my starting corral at Twin Cities trying not to ball up on the ground and go fetal.

Minneapolis Duathlon: Feeding my duathlon monkey

I am really getting to like these duathlon things.  The state of this like is seriously beginning to approach my love of bulleted lists.  You know it's freaking serious then.

Anyway, I just completed my third one, the Minneapolis Duathlon, touted as the "World's Largest Duathlon." I was convinced by a Ragnar buddy of mine who also is addicted to duathlons to do it, and I am totally glad I came up to experience the joy that is this fitness event.  In my usual futile attempt to keep the handful of readers I have, I will summarize this awesome experience into a small series of salient bullet points in a totally inappropriate PowerPoint-esque manner:

• It was hot.  Really hot.  We left at 4:30 A.M to drive to downtown Minneapolis, and we were rudely assaulted by the heat and humidity after we stepped outside the door.  But we weren't going to let that stop us-we had 3.1 miles and then 15.9 miles and then 3.1 miles of duathlon goodness awaiting us.
• After getting all our numbers affixed on ourselves and our bikes, we set up our transition areas and then headed off to a local coffee shop so I could grab a bagel.  We then expressed our displeasure at getting up so damn early:

• This really is a big duathlon.  It seemed that the runner-cyclists were springing forth from the very earth in the transition area and scattering bikes, sports drinks, bike shoes, and energy gels amongst the many rows of bike racks.

• The first run was hot.  Hot hot hot.  I broke down by the water station in mile 2 and walked through it. This run was also long-3.4 instead of 3.1, according to my Garmin.  But you did get to run through the downtown area and over the river; it was a nice course.
• I was extremely glad to get on the bike after that hot run.  There were some serious winds, however, coming in the very direction in which we started biking, so that made it a bit challenging.  On the turn-around, however, I took off and started flying in the last 7.5 miles or so.  Well, whenever people who were going slower than me weren't riding side-by-side and blocking the route.  
• The bike route had more people on bikes than I have ever experienced.  It was a little nerve-wracking for me to ride around so many people on bikes; at first, all I could do was start calculating the probabilities that I would smack into one of them and cause an accident.  After about mile 6 or so I calmed down and chose someone to "race" with.  I have a habit of picking a person at the start of races with whom I am privately competing.  I'll have you know that I won my little race during the bike ride, even if we kept passing each other over and over again in the last 7 miles.  I outpaced her on the last hill right before we got back to the transition area.  Ha!  Take that, person who didn't even know I totally took you down in my own private race with you!  Yeah!
• My transition time totally sucked the big one.  I had the hubbs switch out my clip pedals with my regular pedals for this race so I would have a better transition time (due to not changing shoes).  Little did I know that I would have to pee like nobody's business after my first run and would end up waiting in line for the port-a-john, making my total transition time 3:39.  All that planning just so my bladder could ruin it all. 
• And speaking of those pedals, I hate them.  Give me my clip pedals and bike shoes any day.  I could totally feel the inefficiency of those old clunky pedals--specifically, I felt it in my calves as they were starting to cramp by mile 13. The way my feet were working on the pedals felt very different to me, as if I had to work to keep my foot on the pedal.  Very unnatural and painful towards the end of the ride.
• The second run was called off due to the heat, so I got my finisher medal as soon as I hopped off my bike.  Disappointing, to say the least.  But at least I got in a nice run and a pretty awesome ride before getting my hopes dashed to the ground.  (OK, it wasn't that bad.  But I was sad that I didn't finish.)
• This race had some pretty sweet and copious swag: (plus $5 bike jerseys at the expo!)

And some pretty good company:

And that company includes the cat-dog Lily:

Like I said, I am really getting to like these duathlon things.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find another one to satisfy the duathlon monkey that's now kicking and screaming on my back.

Rugged Maniac 2013: Mud, fun, and possible water-borne diseases.

I do love me a good mud obstacle course. My course of choice this summer was the Rugged Maniac 5K held in Wilmot, Wisconsin.

This race is so badass they make you jump over a wall just to get into the starting corral.

It's also badass because it takes place at a ski resort.  That means hills, people-and lots of them.

Oh I know those hills look all cute and small and stuff in that picture.  But they were beasts, I tell you.  Steep-ass thigh-frying lung-burning BEASTS.

As you come out of the starting corral, you race up the first of those beasts.  Well, maybe not "race;" more like "try and run and then realize you will never make it up the hill running so you stop and walk and hope you don't cause a massive people-pile-up behind you."  After you top that hill, you then run downhill over uneven ground down to your first obstacle- a mud pit.  After that, the race becomes a blur of running over bumpy ground, one obstacle after another (mostly walls and cargo nets), and climbing up those freaking hills.

I would like to talk about a few obstacles worthy of extra verbiage:

1) The water slide in mile 3.  This is perhaps the most fun obstacle (if you can call it an obstacle) that is on the course. Super-slippery, you go down fast and hit the pool of water at the bottom with a ginormous splash that feels fantastic that late in the race.

2) The sand dunes.  I started the race with a small rock in my shoe that bugged me until the sand dunes you had to climb up and down.  After that I had TONS of small rocks in my shoes and I didn't have to worry about the first one anymore.

3) The super-steep hills.  There were two occasions where you had to climb hills so steep they had to put down ropes for you to pull yourself up the hill while you were trying to climb the hill.  What's cruel is that the second hill is much steeper than the first hill.  Oh, the swear words I heard at the top of those hills.

4) The mud pits.  They put real barbed wire over the top of them so you were forced to crawl on your knees and/or belly.  Not that I mind; this was a mud obstacle race, after all.  But I wish I had worn capris that covered my knees, because they were pretty banged up from all the rocks and whatnots through which I was crawling afterwards.  One of those whatnots included a corrugated metal drain pipe I had to slide through head-first towards the end of the race.  Speaking of that pipe obstacle...

5) The pipe obstacle with the pool of nasty smelling water.  After diving head-first through a pipe, you slid straight into a pool of muddy, foul-smelling water.  I managed to keep my head above it, but you still had to swim through the water with your head not scraping the barbed wire strung above you.  This meant the water had to come up to my lips.  Yummo.  I managed to get to the other side without putting any more of my head under the water, where I then had to now go up a huge drain pipe with only a rope to help me.  And a rope without any knots in it, even.

This is where all my upper body weight work paid off.  I could actually pull myself up that pipe this year, unlike last year where some gentlemen kindly offered me a push and then shoved my ass up the pipe.  Mind you, I didn't do it fast and there was plenty of teeth baring and grunting involved, but I did it.  It made every moment of hated shoulder-work worth it.

6) The balance beam.  I'm the first to admit that my balance sucks.  So having to walk on a beam across greenish-nastyish-there is surely some disease lurking in there-water is just asking for trouble.  I got to that obstacle and started to cross....and then stopped.  I didn't really have a strategy for this.  I was trying to ballerina-side-step it across, and it just wasn't happening.  I got about a foot and half out and then decided to back up and try again.  When I backed up and tried again, the volunteer working the obstacle screamed, "GO ON, DON'T BE A QUITTER!  YOU CAN DO IT!"

My response?  "I KNOW I CAN DO IT.  NOW BE QUIET AND LET ME DO IT."

And then I did it by prancing across the beam as lightly and as quickly as I possibly could, cringing at the greenish brackish water in the ditch below the obstacle.  I"m glad that I was in the first wave, because after I was finished that same obstacle looked like this:

Check out those long lines.  There was nothing like that when I went through.  Amazing the difference an hour and a half makes on the course.

I saw those lines again at the final obstacle, a climb over some cargo containers and then up cargo netting (I sense a cargo theme).

When I got there during the race there was no mud at all on the wall.  Looks like a lot of muddy runners had flung themselves on that thing after I did.

I took a lot of other post-race pics because my race photographer decided to stay in bed rather than come with me, so here are some other random pictures I took from the day:

The finish line before anyone had crossed it.

Attack of the mud people.

The last obstacle.

The last of three mud pits.  Barbed wire = bonus.

Obligatory mud run fire jumping.

Before the mud run.....

....after the mud run.  And a rinse.

Despite the water from which I am sure I will contract a fatal disease, I love this race.  It is challenging and fun at the same time, even if there are hills from hell all over it.  I must say that as I write this the next day, my entire body is sore, especially my ankles.

It's going to make my 20 mile training run this afternoon all the more interesting.

So who else farts around before a summer long run?

Yesterday morning I ran Brett's Run, the very first 5K I ever ran, on my 3rd annversary of being smoke-free.  It's actually the fourth time I've run it, and I love it every time.  It's a flat out-and-back course through a subdivision, and is always very well run.

It also helps that it is only 10 minutes from my house.

It was raining pretty hard when the race started, and I was dressed in my orange sparkle skirt in order to test it out under race conditions (I will be wearing it in my next Ragnar this weekend and wanted to see what it was like at higher speeds).  Since the race t-shirts everyone was wearing were orange, I blended right in.  However, I will never understand why people insist on wearing the cotton race t-shirts they get during the race itself--especially when it is pouring down rain.  The thing becomes like a lead weight on your back while racing.  There's a reason God invented wicking fabrics, people.

Anyhoo, I had a good run.  Since I was not interested in causing any injuries, I was determined to push it, but not go all out.  That's why I set my watch to just tell me my pace after each lap rather than my instantaneous pace, so I wouldn't get all caught up in the numbers. Besides--it's always good to learn how to run by feel than by the dictates of a little black rectangle on your wrist.  Because of that, I ended up running a 26:39, which is about an 8:20 pace.  I negative split this race, starting at about an 8:37 and then speeding up to around 8:15 or so, which I am happy about.

The other thing I can be happy about is that I didn't let some lady pass me in the last 0.1 mile.  I was coming down the home stretch towards the chute, and, out the corner of my right eye, I saw a woman start to book it, trying to pass me.

The only thought going through my head was, "OH, HELL NO."

I really dug deep, and was surprised by how much energy I had.  I schooled her easily, passing her and two other people on my way to the finish line, leaving them in the wake of my sparkly orange skirt.  My last 0.19 of a mile was run at a 6:50 pace, which tells me I had way more gas in the tank than I thought I did.  Somewhere I have become a bit of a mental wimp, and I am going to have to whip myself into shape, realizing I have more energy than I think I do.  This will be something on which to work during my next round of training, which starts tomorrow.  (Twin Cities Marathon, here I come!)

After the race, I checked the results and saw that I had placed third in my age group.  So I sat in the driving rain and waited for my name to be called.

Only my name was never called.  The original results posted were wrong; I came in 4th, not third.  Have to love those kind of screw-ups (not really).  

I came home exhausted, but I fully intended to go for an 11 mile run in the afternoon rather than risk potential injury at my Warrior Dash.  Why 11 miles?  Because my legs for Ragnar Wasatch Back were switched, and now I am runner #9, which has an 11.6 mile night run.  I had every intention of going on that run until I fell asleep for 3 hours in my bean bag chair.  (Note to self: I am too old to fall asleep in bean bag chairs unless I would like to seriously mess up my back.)  After that mega-nap, I was in no mood to do anything but eat dinner and go to bed.  So, that's what I did, intending to do a long run the next day.

I got up this morning at 5 A.M. and was planning on doing my run (I was aiming for 16 miles) at 7 A.M.  It looked vastly different outside than the rainy day before:

Instagrammed for your viewing pleasure.

But because I have this nasty habit of farting around and getting caught up in stupid TV shows, I didn't head out until 9 A.M., when it was much hotter and more humid.  I also chose to run a route that has very little shade, and a lot of it was run with my back to the wind.

Please learn from my mistakes, people.

I was miserable from mile 1.  I was actually very cranky to start with for other reasons, so I was having a hard time finding that awesome running groove I usually slip into by mile 2.  I'm pretty sure I scowled at everything and everyone for the first hour.  My legs were feeling the faster running from the day before, I was wearing thick calf sleeves because a shin splint had started to act up on my left leg.

These were warm in the winter.  And today in the heat.

  

Thankfully that shin splint was quiet on the run.  If it acted up, I probably would have just scowled at it to get it back in line.  Around mile 5 or so I began to feel better, so I decided to do 14 miles, turning around at the 7 mile mark.

It was right after I turned around that I really began to feel the heat.  By that time it was about 10:30, and the heat was really getting obnoxious.  I know the temperature was only about 78 degrees, but when you're running without wind and without shade, it feels like you're burning alive--especially if you haven't really run regularly in the heat yet.  Thankfully, God invented Camelbak hydration backpacks, and I had mine on and was drinking every mile.  I also had 5 gels with me, so I was fueling about every 40 minutes.  Without my water and food, I really would have bit the dust out there and maybe even resorted to calling the hubbs to come get me while I sat in the road and cried.

Even with my water and fuel, I had to start run/walking the last 3 miles.  My legs actually felt OK, but I felt like I had no gas whatsoever.  What I started doing was walking for about 200 meters and then running a half a mile, repeating that sequence until I made it home.  Did I feel like a total wimp for doing this?  Yes.  Was I glad I did so I could make it to where the food and cold water was?  Absolutely.  Am I going to start slower on my next hot run?  You bet.

The most important question, however, is this: Am I actually going to get out the door at 6 or 7 AM to avoid looking like this at the end of my run?

YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES.

Things I don't miss about smoking.

Today's workout was a nice three mile run in preparation for a Ragnar-esque day of racing tomorrow.  I will be doing a 5K race in the morning, and then driving down to Channahon, IL, to do the Warrior Dash held down there.  I plan on racing the first one and doing the second one just for fun.  Well, really I do the second one to dive into mud and over fire and get really cool pictures of me doing that.

But the first race tomorrow.....that one is special to me.  It was the very first 5K I ever ran.

It's called Brett's Run, and it is named in honor of a young boy who was tragically killed after getting hit by a car.  The proceeds go towards scholarships for seniors at the local high school.  I do run it for that cause, but I also run this race because it was my introduction to road racing, and got me hooked on running.

It was also the very first 5K I did after quitting smoking. (I ran this race 2 days after quitting.)  And, this year, the race is on the same day as the anniversary of my quit date.  So, I am running the race that was my very first 5K on the 3-year anniversary of the day I officially quit smoking.

Finishing Brett's Run in 2011, my 2nd time

You can see why this is special to me.  My life and how I live has completely been turned around by running and quitting smoking.  I'm doing things I never thought I would do (marathons, Ragnars, obstacle courses races where I get to jump over fire and mud) when I was a two pack-a-day smoker who had about 80 more pounds on her.

But I do miss the act of smoking sometimes.  Ciggies were my buddies in time of stressful need.  They were who I turned to when I could no longer cope with work stress or the fact that my house is in a constant state of deconstruction and construction.  Cigarettes were there for me when no one else was, with all their nicotine-addictive goodness.

Thankfully running and cycling and weight-lifting and yoga now take the place of my former socially acceptable form of drug addiction.  But, tomorrow being the 3-year anniversary of my quit date, I thought I would enumerate things I actually don't miss about smoking rather than focusing on what I do miss.  This will not only serve to inform the masses, but also provide me a way to insert a bulleted list, because I ♥ bulleted lists, baby.

So, away we go:

• Having your clothes stink constantly of eau de ashtray.
• The smell of your first two fingers.  Yeesh.
• Having respiratory infections while smoking.  Being sick when you smoke is so much worse.
• Chest pains waking me up at night.  I had these for at least 5 years (and I smoked a total of 16).
• Hiding the fact that you smoke from others around you.  I went to great pains to not let my coworkers know I smoked, which sometimes led to me doing very stupid things.
• Being so addicted to smoking that you will sneak out for a smoke at the worst times.  On teacher institute days when we were allowed to go out to lunch, I used to drive around and just smoke.  Stupid.
• Freaking out-and I mean outright PANIC ATTACKS-at the thought of running out of cigarettes.  Addict thinking right there; but when you're in it, you can't see it.  Pathetic.
• Thinking that $50.00 for a carton of cigs was way too much to spend, but I spent it anyway because I had to have my ciggies.

Finishing in 2012.  Purple shorts ahoy!

Tomorrow, when I'm in the last half mile of that 5K, I will be uncomfortable.  I will want to stop.  I will want to slow down.  (I won't want a cigarette, though.)

But when I cross the finish line I will be damn happy I don't smoke anymore.

Elgin FoxTrot 10 Mile Race: I really really really wanted to blow my nose.

Today I ran the Elgin FoxTrot 10 mile race.  I have run this one before in 2011 when it was obnoxiously hot and every water station also had towels soaking in ice water (AWESOME), and it was the first race I ran after running my very first half-marathon.  I ran with a buddy back then, and we took it slow because I was having a neuroma flare-up and he was having hamstring issues.

At the time, I was really more focused on our heat-induced and injury-riddled misery than the race itself.  Especially since we weren't racing it-we were running it.

And I didn't really race it this year.  Still being recovery from my marathon, I didn't want to push it and get injured, especially since Ragnar Chicago is right around the corner.  But I also didn't want to push it because of this chest cold which is still lingering in the ol' lungs.

So I decided to use this as a training run--my long run for the day, but pushing the pace faster than I would if I were running amongst the farm animals and open fields like I normally do.  I know some people feel you shouldn't do a race unless you actually train for it and run like a bat out of hell every time, but I disagree.  I think races can be used for those runs in which you want to run faster than usual but have a hard time actually doing that on your own without the thrill and competition of other racers around you.

I also think races can be used to practice a future marathon pace...say for a marathon that I am signed up for in October.  And say a pace between 9 and 9:30.....just sayin'.

Anyway, the race started on time at 7:30 A.M. and the weather was perfect: temps in the 40s and no wind.  As I stood in the pack at the starting line waiting for the gun to go off, everyone around me kept talking about how hilly the course was.  (I could hear them, you see, because I forgot my freaking iPod.  Angh.)  I didn't remember any huge hills from when I ran it two years ago, but I was taking their word for it and getting all freaky-deaky about those hills.

We hit a nice hill in the first 0.3 miles, and then we kept rolling up and down them throughout the course.  In fact, here's what the elevation profile of this course looked like (with my speed right along with it):

But, really, those hills were nothing compared to the one I had to run whilst in Tennessee doing a Ragnar:

All hills since that time have been compared to Monteagle.  And not one of them have come close to the 4 miles or so of crazy mental zanies I went through just to keep going up that hill just to hand off the slap bracelet to the next runner who got to run down the hill. 

So let's all just stop freaking out about these bumps people around here call "hills."

Most of the race I felt pretty good; my breathing was never out of control, and I backed off when I felt it starting to get all crazy wheezy.  I managed a 1:34:05 finish time, so about a 9:25 pace.  My chest was more full of junk than I thought it was from the chest cold, and I kept coughing for the first 3 miles (and for about 10 minutes after I crossed the finish line). 

But really all I wanted to do was blow my nose.  They need to have kleenex at all water stops.

I have written before about what a snot machine I am when I start running (and biking is even worse; I am a human hagfish on the bike), but when I'm sick the slime coming out of my nose reaches epically gross proportions.  Since I try not to snot rocket during a race, I was sucking in the nose slime until mile 8, where I just couldn't stand it any longer and let one loose along the side of the road.  Well, I meant to do it along the side of the road, but ended up blowing it all over the bottom of my shirt.  Fabulous.  I then literally sucked it up for the remaining few miles until I crossed the finish line, got to my car, and all snot broke loose in the parking lot.  It's one of the joys of running, people.  Truly majestic and inspiring.

Since my official race photographer slept in until 10:30 A.M. today (it's like he got up and ran 10 miles and was really tired.  Not.), this was the best I could do:

This was taken after the post-race snot incident.  Be glad you can't see that part of my face.

Weigh-in info:  I was at 145.4 this morning, so the weight seems to be coming down a bit.  Maybe the sickness made my body hoard the poundage.  I am doing OK with my eating, although I did splurge and have these SmartFood corn thingies in a sour cream and onion flavor so strong I fear I will be burping up that taste for eternity.  I've been being much better about finding recipes and cooking at home; it's all about building habits, isn't it?  Like blowing your nose when snot starts to run out onto your face.

I ran a 10K and I'm sick. Bleh.

This morning I ran the 10K at the Rockford Marathon.

This 10K was a lovely flat course that took you right along the Rock River on either side and then finished with a nice downhill to the finish line.  I ran it.  I didn't race it.  I was helping a friend run her first 10K, which she did successfully.  She crossed the finish line strong:

Besides, I couldn't have raced it if I tried.  This chest cold has passed from the merely annoying stage to the "holy cow what did I just cough up" stage.  I was wiped out after running this morning (even if it was just 11 minute miles), and crashed for 2 hours afterwards.  So much for grading student projects; getting my oil changed, grocery shopping, and gassing up the car for the week trumped that.  Oh, and writing this blog post did, too.

My weight loss has kind of taken a back seat while I am ill.  I did weigh myself this morning (146.0), but am thinking this weight loss had to do with my illness.  I kind of ate a little too much today, but I'm not feeling guilty about it.  I'll feel guilty about it when I'm not hacking up things with colors from another dimension.

Irish people: Today was your day.

Today was my day. I am Irish.

I don't drink so the way I celebrate is by running a race.  I think my ancestors would tar and feather me for that if they knew.  But they're dead, and, if they were here, they'd probably be dead drunk, too (har!).

Because my husband wimped out and refused to come (it was 24 degrees outside and windy when we started the race), I had no official race photographer.  Below are the best I could do on my own:

Yes, I am in the bathroom.  That's where the mirrors are.  And some awesome smells.

Pro Compression Shamrock Socks completed my outfit.

I forgot to wear my tie.  I was a little upset, especially since it cost me a whole dollar at Target.

The race was cold and windy.  No matter what direction we ran, the wind was in our faces.  I planned on taking this race a little easy what with my foot still not at 100%, so my goal for the race was to practice my negative splits.  I wanted to end up at around 8 minutes per mile, so my first split was at about 8:28.  I was pacing a dude for the first 1.5 miles that was doing that pace who kept clearing his throat every 3 nanoseconds, so I started to pull away just to save what was left of my sanity.  After that, I busted out an 8:11 2nd mile, and, thanks to the fact that 0.6 miles of the 3rd mile is all downhill to the finish, I managed a 7:51 as I crossed the finish line.

Because this was not my best performance (a 25:32; last year I pulled off a 24:17) and there were about 600 people at this race, I didn't expect to place.  I just went inside the building to get warm, scope out the post-race food (bread, cole slaw and donuts.....?), and find a place to stretch and pee (not in the same spot).  I stuck around as the raffle began, but I really wanted to leave because I had 19 more miles to do--technically, I was supposed to do a 22 mile run according to my training schedule.  And leave I almost did, until they hung up the results and I saw that I had taken 1st place in my age group.  Not too shabby.

After collecting my medal, I scrambled home, threw on my hydration backpack, and took off for my 19-mile run.  My foot whined off and on for the entire run, and it was the worst in mile 11.  But, for a 19 mile run, I had some pretty good splits (for me, anyway):

The main event that happened during this run was: people.  There were people out EVERYWHERE.  People walking their dogs unleashed, people trying to find their lost doberman, people trying to find the nearest exit to I-90...it was a pretty steady parade of people in the middle of my run.   Some of these people decided to be all friendly and try and talk to me.  However, during a run, I'm not really interested in talking or stopping--I am interested in running.  It's like how I drive my husband complete and total batshit by never answering my phone on a run.  This is because the phone is there for me to call SOMEONE ELSE, not to answer it and have a chit-chat while trying to make it through mile 15.  I just want to run, dammit, and run uninterrupted.

But some of these people I met on the run were driving cars and stopping to talk to me.  Now, I don't know about you, but when I am a female and running alone (which is often), I don't like it when people stop their cars, get out of their cars, and then try and walk up to me.  I tend to back away and get out my pepper spray, which causes them to look very concerned.  All I know is that if they grab my backpack, they can probably get me to their car before my uncoordinated ass unbuckles the clasps on the front of my body, so I don't want these car-driving-getting-out-of-cars people anywhere near me.  At least the last 5 miles of the run were people-free; it left me some time to concentrate on my foot and obsess over whether I was getting a stress fracture or had a synovial cyst of some kind along the length of my extensor tendon.

Speaking of the foot, it's a little sore now; I iced it immediately afterwards and took some ibuprofen.  And then I went to Red Robin and had a pretty damn good burger at my husband's nephew's birthday party.  Hey, I know how to eat for recovery baby, and recover is what I intend to do tomorrow with my cross-training day.  I'll let you know what I choose to do to screw up my foot further for cross-training in tomorrow's post.