Grand Island Trail Half Marathon Recap

Well, it's amazing how differently you can react to a race, simply because of different expectations put on it.  In May, I was unjustifiably disappointed with a 2:05-something finish at the Kalamazoo Half Marathon, because I had put a lot of pressure on myself to break two hours.  Yesterday, I was (and still am) over the top thrilled with finishing the Grand Island Trail Half Marathon in 2:32-something.  What was different?  Oh, a number of things, I suppose....First of all, I expected yesterday's trail race to be slower for the very fact that it was on trail.  Secondly, after dealing with my sore piriformis for a month or so now, I knew that that would slow me down, and I set my expectations accordingly.  In fact, I took my run/walk interval timer so that I could do a run/walk, and - for the first time ever on a major race - I took my camera phone (even though it is bulky), so that I could take some pictures along the way.  Also, coming off of a 10-day vacation with my mom and the kids, I really just wanted this event to be fun for me - no pressure.  And it was!

So, first of all, the Grand Island Trail Half Marathon is a beautiful event.  The scenery up on the Lake Superior shoreline of Michigan's upper peninsula is breathtaking.  Having been to the Denver and Colorado Springs regions of Colorado twice now, I was struck by the similarities....Okay, so there were no towering peaks, but the hills were high enough and pine-covered enough to fool me at least some of the time.  And, with the crystal waters of Lake Superior and perfect weather, I really was bowled over by it all.

I had been looking forward to this event for quite a while, ever since Great Lakes Endurance, the outfit that puts on the Grand Island races, had come to talk to our running club a couple of years ago.  I wasn't sure that this was the event I would end up doing, but I knew I wanted to do one of their events.  Their premise of eco-conscious racing and sourcing everything, inasmuch as they can, locally and/or organically is what got me initially intrigued.  The fact that I could finally fit in one of their events at the tail end of our Michigan vacation this year made me very happy and I looked forward to this race with much anticipation.  Plus, this would be the first longer distance destination race that I would do on my own - without Hubby by my side - and for some reason that was important, too.

Sunrise over Grand Island

Getting into town the night before the race, we had gotten lucky and were able to stay overnight at the Holiday Inn Express in Munising, which happened to be where the race "expo" and packet pickup were set up.  (We had been waitlisted.)  Besides being the center of race activity the day before the race, the hotel also offered a fantastic view across the water to Grand Island.  From our balcony, I enjoyed looking out at the island where I would run my second ever trail Half.  The hotel staff was very accommodating, having welcome bags for the runners which included a Larabar, water, and some trail mix, and breakfast was set obscenely early at 4 a.m. for runners.

Packet pickup was easy.  There wasn't really anything in the way of goody bags or swag, but you could buy some items if you wanted.  With the race bib, you got a nice, orange, short-sleeved technical shirt.  They were selling some wood medallions that said Grand Island Trail Marathon, I believe, and if I had known then that there wouldn't be any race medals handed out at the finish, I might have purchased one.  But I didn't, so I didn't, and that's a minor regret.

Getting over to the island the morning of the race was made very easy.  Shuttles were scheduled to pick runners up at a number of area hotels, as well as the local high school, and deposit them at the ferry dock throughout the morning.  The dock happened to only be a half mile from my hotel, but the shuttle arrived just as I stepped out, so I took advantage of the lift and rode to the dock in style.

Waiting at the ferry dock.

Waiting for the ferry was fine too.  I was only there for a couple of minutes before one puttered up to pick us up for the short, five-minute hop to the island.  Being in the half marathon, which was slated to start at 8 a.m., I was kind of impressed as I waited for the boat at about 6:45 that the folks there had the presence of mind to call out for any marathoners or marathon spectators trying to get over for the 7 a.m. marathon start to jump the line.  A couple people took advantage of that.  There was plenty of room on the boat, though, so most of us were able to hop on board.

After the short ride, I got to the island just in time to see the 7 a.m. marathon wave (the first wave had gone off at 6 a.m.) get their final instructions and start.

7 a.m. Marathon start.

That left me with an hour to wander around the welcome center, read the historic signs, and get myself ready to go.

Seeing as I have had issues with my piriformis, I had brought my trusty softball in my drop bag.  I took a few minutes to roll that out.  Then I swapped my sandals for socks and my New Balance 101s.  Clif Blocks were placed in the appropriate pockets, as was my plastic-baggied cell phone.  I sucked down a Roctane (cherry lime for the record) and mixed my Gu Brew in my handheld.  (Funny how after I belittled that beverage so much for the Kazoo Half, I have taken to running with it for longer runs. Hmm, there is a lesson there somewhere, I am sure of it.)  I dropped my bag under the tent they provided for just such a purpose and then walked to the start.

At the start.

We got our last minute instructions - follow the blue flags, not the orange - the horn sounded, and we were off.

With trail races, as with trails, I find there is a wide variety of what qualifies as trail.  This race was no different, and we ran a gamut of different terrain. Starting off we headed down a hard-packed dirt road (or maybe it was paved?) with a fine covering of sand over it.  The footing was very good and heading through the woods was pleasant.  There were some mild ups and downs, but mainly it was pretty flat.  Overall, the course was mainly shaded.

First couple of miles of trail was more like a dirt road.

At four miles, we reached the first aid station.  Volunteers there were very solicitous and helpful, filling our water bottles with our choice of Heed or water, and then asking if we needed anything else.  I hadn't really drunk too much yet, so I didn't need a refill at that point. In addition to the liquid refreshment, they had Hammer Gel and Endurolytes on hand, neither of which I required.  The volunteers were super friendly and complimented me on my choice of pink attire, which was fun.  (I no doubt had some witty reply to that, but I can't remember what it was anymore.)  There were no cups at the water station.  In keeping with their eco-friendly philosophy, the event required everyone to carry their own hydration units with them and carry out their own trash.

Coming out of the first aid station, we emerged onto the shores of Lake Superior.  This was where I would run what for me would be the hardest part of the race effort-wise - the beach.  For fully one mile, the course took you through the sand.  Trying to run on the harder-packed wet sand was easier but I found myself constantly dodging the waves that were breaking on the shore.  Opting for the squishy sand just out of reach of the waves ensured dry feet but meant struggling with the footing and turning your ankle a few times.  I mixed it up as best I could, and by the time I got to the end of this stretch, I felt I had gotten pretty good at judging which waves were going to get my feet wet and which ones were not.  I did get wet a couple of times and turned my ankle a couple of times, so obviously for me neither sand option was ideal.  The breathtaking beauty of this stretch of the run, though, made up a lot for the difficulty.

Coming onto the beach was breathtaking.

Hmmm, dodge the waves?

Or brave the deeper sand?

Coming off the beach, we headed back into the woods onto a single track trail that would lead up the bluffs.

A runner behind me was nice enough to offer to take
my picture.  I get the feeling a lot of people were being
running tourists that day.

The climb had been described as the most difficult part of the race, but I found it gradual enough to not be that tiring or problematic.  Much to my hamstring's dismay, I even managed to run most of it.  From mile 7 to 9, we were back on the dirt road with a gradual downhill into the Mile 9 aid station - the second and last one.

Getting out of that aid station, we turned again onto single-track trail.

It's also here that we started merging with the marathon runners for the first time.  I am not sure who exactly we were seeing, but most of them still seemed pretty fresh.  (I got more compliments on the pink socks, but I don't mean "fresh" in that regard.)  That first mile after the aid station was very pleasant with good footing and soft, pine-needle covered ground.  From about Mile 10 to 12.5, though, the trail took a turn along the top of the cliffs.  While the views were beautiful, my recent tumble two weeks ago on the trails had me running very cautiously.  This stretch was littered with half-buried roots and rocks.  I only had to flex my fingers opened and closed to remind myself that another fall would be very unwelcome.  (Unfortunately, my hand is still sore from that fall.)  So, for better or for worse, I slowed down a lot.

Trail along bluff.

View from the top. The water was crystal clear.

Coming down off the bluff is a gradual event and before you know it, the finish line appears around a curve.  Crowds were cheering, a surprise after a fairly - although not completely - spectator-free run.

Finishing in 2:32 was a bit of a disappointment for about a tenth of a second.  It only took one good mental headslap to remind myself that I should be very happy with that time.  Sore piriformis, trail run, stopping to take pictures - I should be pleased that I finished so well.  Indeed, this is a trail half PR for me.  (The first I finished in about 3:15 after being sick.)  Finally, I am not 100-percent sure of the accuracy of the course, as my Garmin clocked 13.34 miles, rather than 13.1.  Although I trust its accuracy under ideal conditions, I know that woods and bluffs have a tendency to mess with it - so I take the exactness of the results (both my watch's and the race's) with a grain of salt.

As I mentioned earlier, I was a bit surprised to see there were no finisher's medals, as I thought someone else had said there had been some in years past.  I didn't sweat it too much, though.  I am happy with my shirt and the memories of the experience.  If you happened to be fast enough to win an age group award, though, you would have received a beautiful blown-glass medallion, a worthy match for the surrounding area's natural beauty.  It makes me wish I were faster.

I couldn't resist cooling off in the waters of Lake Superior after the run.

Getting back to the mainland after the event was as streamlined as arriving had been.  A constant stream of ferries ensured runners didn't have to wait long to leave if they didn't want to.  Once back at the ferry dock in Munising, a line of shuttles clearly marked with different hotel names waited to take runners back to their cars.

So, all in all, I have to say I really enjoyed this event. I am already thinking of how to get back next year to do it, too.  It was well run, well organized.  The scenery was amazing.  The people were friendly.  My only regret is that we had planned to drive the several hours home afterwards, opting not to stay the night after the race.  I would have been more than happy to hang out for another night, enjoying the amazing weather, going swimming in Lake Superior and maybe having a glass of wine or two on our balcony overlooking the lake.  Oh well, that is why there will be a next time.

Despite the piriformis, I was pleased with how I ran.  I really felt good overall.  The piriformis was a disappointing thorn in my side. It twinged at the start, but then was basically good until about mile 6 or so.  Then I could feel it tightening, and eventually it started sending those shooting pains down my hamstring.  Despite that, I was happy that my overall conditioning felt really strong.  I never did go to the run/walk.  And although I did walk a couple of times, the breaks were kept brief.  That's how good I was feeling.  In fact, for much of the race I felt that I was just gliding along.  I don't feel like I really hit any sort of wall, and for that I am grateful.

As to not having Hubby along,...standing on my own two feet, as it were?  That was kind of a bust.  I found that in the end I missed having him there to share the event with.  So, next time the plan is to drag him there too!  I wouldn't want him to miss out again!

Bellin 10K Run Race Recap

First of all, let me start out by saying that race day was HOT.  It seems to be the trend of late, and I didn't escape it.  Somehow I thought that since this was "just" a 10K that heat wouldn't be a big issue for me.  I was wrong.  It was HOT and I was miserable.  That all being said, I was pleasantly surprised when my chip time turned up a 1:00:13 (average pace of 9:42).  Considering how many walk breaks I took and how early I started taking them and just generally how sluggish I felt, I was amazed to see that time.

So, what's to say about the Bellin?  It's an awesome race - that is, if you can get past the crushing crowds and the insane children trying to take you out at every turn.  If you can get past those things and just take in the crazy amount of energy generated by all those people there in one place with one purpose, then it is an amazing event to take part in.

The Bellin Run celebrated its 36th year Saturday, and the feel of the race reflects that.  It is well organized, well loved, and well supported.  Volunteers are AWESOME, crowd support is phenomenal, and the community really rallies behind it.  With big names in running like Bill Rodgers and Joan Samuelson showing up to run it, too, it can be fun for race gawkers.

Hubby and I started our day early as we roused the kids from their beds to head up to the start line.  Since I was actually running as part of Hubby's corporate team, I needed to be there a half hour before start time to take a team picture.  Getting off the highway, we already ran into race traffic.  With 18,300 registered participants signed up for race day, this was to be anticipated.  We made it to the general vicinity of the corporate tents with plenty of time to start our search for parking on the nearby side streets, and as luck would have it we found a spot relatively quickly.  A moderate walk to tent city, and we were there just in time for the photo op.  After the picture, I walked Hubby and the kids to the playground, said my quick good-byes and trotted off to find a porta-potty before the start.

The nearby bank of pots was heavily in use with lines practically out of the park, but from years past I remembered another bank of them near the start corrals, so I headed that way.  T-minus 20 minutes to the start.  Unfortunately, I tried to take the shortest route between two points, and that was a fail.  The Bellin start is situated at an intersection of roads in the heart of the Bellin medical complex.  Cutting across to turn up the road that leads to the finish, I got stopped by an official looking gentleman (gun and badge), telling me and a few others we couldn't go that route. T-minus 15 minutes.  Jogging faster now to get to the start on time, I retraced my footsteps and made it to the park next to the start line.  A quick question to a volunteer and I was headed in the right direction, past a pre-race water table (thanks!), and on to the porta-potty line.  T-minus 10 minutes.  Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.  Done. On to the race corral.  T-Minus 4 minutes.

Made it!  Corral 2.  I was so excited to start in Corral 2, but as it turned out, I started more right outside of corral 2, because there wasn't enough room in the corral.  The corrals line the street and then go around TWO corners to accommodate all the participants.  They are blocked off by metal barricades and have clear entries, guarded vigilantly by volunteers.  I made it to the Corral 2 Entrance, only to find that that was the closest I was going to get to Corral 2 before the start.  It was all good, though.  As Corral 3 was gated off from Corral 2, once the race did start, we all got to get underway before Corral 3 was allowed to enter the mix. (Okay, how many times can I say "corral" in that paragraph?)

The race started with a bang.  A four-minute walk to the start line, and I was finally off. (Not bad considering in previous years I have crossed the start line 20 minutes or even 30 minutes after the start!)

I won't bore you with a mile-by-mile description of my race.  As stated, it was hot, and as I had brilliantly decided the night before during my pre-race indifference that I wasn't going to wear a watch - rather run by feel - I, of course, started out WAY too fast.  (In retrospect, wearing the watch might have helped keep me in check in the first mile or so.)  That first mile is an ever-so-slight uphill with no shade.  The sun was shining brightly, and it didn't take long for me to feel the heat.  I ran out too fast, and before the first mile marker, I knew I was going to suffer.  By mile 2, my legs already felt heavy, and I had taken several walk breaks.

I have to say that with the temps pushing the mid-70s at the start and in the wake of the Green Bay and Madison Marathon cancellations, that this race did everything in its power to make the run as safe and comfortable as they could.  From daily news interviews leading up to the event advising runners how to deal with the heat, to announcements at the start, to medics and first aid on the course, this race had it all.  Water stations were plentiful with water cups stacked three deep on the tables, and shuttles were on standy-by at several points ready to ship runners back to the start if they  decided they were done.  There were misters on the course, but they didn't provide nearly as much relief as the sprinklers and hoses, provided by the good citizens of the area.  Before the race, I jokingly had said I would try to hit every watering device on the course, but I couldn't!  There were too many!  I tried, but I soon realized there were certain sprinklers that had I gone for them I would have caused traffic issues, so I let them go.  I still managed to get soaked.  Towards the end I took to dumping half cups of water on my head after taking a few sips.  The water cups were full, and there were a gazillion of them (that's the official number).

Then there is the ice cube.  After running five-plus miles in the heat, getting as much water and Gatorade as I could stand, running through sprinklers, I was presented with a single, lonely ice cube in a cup at one aid station.  Hmmm.  I stared at it.  I didn't quite know what to do with it.  Was I supposed to eat it?  Rub it around my face?  Put it in the water they then gave me?  Then I remembered my friend L. and her story of running Boston a couple of months ago....something about ice in a jog bra.  So, I hooked my finger in my soaked running shirt and jog bra and tipped my one ice cube into the spot where my cleavage would be if I had any.  There it sat all the way to the finish until it finally melted away.  That actually felt pretty good, and I can now say I have found a new purpose for the jog bra.

So, as stated, the crowds in this race are not to be dismissed.  With over 18,000 people running a 10K, there is really no escape.  Unless you are in the very front (I would imagine) or the very back, there is no point in this race where the crowd thins out.  Brushing up against people, slowing suddenly, stopping short, dodging through holes in the crowd,  jumping up on the sidewalk to get around people are all a part of this event.  

Worse than the big people, though, are the little people.  They are fearless and slightly insane.  Don't get me wrong .... I love kids - I have two of them myself, and I hope E. and LG run fast and far as they get older.  HOWEVER, that being said, I hope they never do what 90 percent of the kids out there seem to do, namely dodge in and out of foot traffic not knowing how long their legs reach behind them.  I almost got tripped up on several occasions by kids who darted in front of me thinking that if our shoulders weren't touching, they were good.  They fail to understand that their legs reach out further away from their bodies than anything else.  On more than one occasion, I was forced to do a couple of fancy dance moves to avoid a collision.

Then ... there was the collision.

Approaching the finish of all places, a 10 or 11 year old boy burst past me and cut right in front of me.  I didn't see him coming and next thing I knew, his "kick" kicked me in the right shin.  I experienced but a momentary startling along with a burst of pain.  He, on the other hand, went sprawling on the concrete with a nice little skid in there to boot.  I and another gentleman went to ask if he was okay, but quicker than quick, he picked himself up and sprinted for the finish.  I would bet anything he had two bloody knees to show his parents.  While I felt a twinge of guilt for any part I may have played in his downfall (unwitting as it may have been), I would be lying if I said I didn't also feel an avalanche of vindication for all the times in this race I had to dance around other kids.  I would call it poetic justice, but I am sure that any higher power out there wouldn't push a kid down just to make me feel better.  I know, shame on me.  Oh well.  I'll get over it.  And, judging by how fast he moved on, I am sure the kid will too.

So, despite the heat and the crowds and the slower time, I feel I had a pretty good race.  The first few miles were rough, but I feel I perked up quite a bit after mile 4 or so.  Somewhere in there, I finally found my groove.  I hit a pace that I should have been going all along and suddenly got comfortable.  I made a mistake thinking to leave the watch at home and run by feel.  Really, I should have had the watch to ensure I ran slowly in the first mile or two, then used it to set a manageable pace.  Ah well, it's all a learning process, and I am obviously still learning.

So, my fourth (or fifth?) Bellin is in the books.  I only had a seven-mile long run on my schedule for this weekend, so this fit in nicely.   Now, it's time to get back to a normal weekly schedule and get back into marathon training in earnest.  There are several fun things on the calendar this week, including my first track workout and a local 5K.  I can't wait!

Happy Running!

So, I am editing this because I forgot to put in my big question to anyone reading this....Namely, what was I supposed to do with the ice cube?

An Outsider's Race Report of the Kettle Moraine 100 Mile Endurance Run

Ok, so I feel like this blog is supposed to be all about ME and MY accomplishments, but - of course - I have to write about this one.... Hubby did it!  He pulled off his first 100-mile ultramarathon. There were doubts, there was pain, there was one helluva sleepless night, but he finished the Kettle Moraine 100 in 27 hours, 36 minutes, and he's been convalescing ever since.

I was able to see Hubby and "crew" for him at three different spots on the course.  Here are some of the few pix I got at the event.

Hubby coming in to the County ZZ aid station at Mile 26.  Still a smile on his face although he said his gut had started to bother him....

Heading down the single-track trail leading out of the station.  Getting peeks down these trails intrigued me to such a degree that for the briefest of moments, I thought to myself Maybe I would want to do that. Mental head slap,....Okay, maybe not.

Coming in to the Scuppernong aid station - Mile 31.4.  Gut still bugging him, but we were able to fuel him up and get him on his way.  Already he was falling off his estimated finish time, but he was still going.

Last spot I was able to see Hubby would be here at the Emma Carlin aid station (Mile 47.3).  This is the point on the trail that they pop out of the woods to head to the aid station at the trail head parking lot.  I watched this spot for about an hour waiting for him to appear.

I wasn't the only one.  At any given time, there were friends and families hanging out watching that narrow sliver of trail as well.

Finally, out of the woods he comes!

Tired, hand-flip wave. At this point, he told me if I wanted to join him for any of the run (since I had planned tentatively to join him for the last seven miles or so) he said to do it now, because he wasn't sure he could go much longer.  Apparently, his gut finally settled down - after 20 miles! But then he noticed his whole body hurting.

After a half hour of rest while I fixed him up with some dried mangoes, Mountain Dew, and Advil and resupplied him with stuff from his drop bag, he headed out over the mats.  It was 6 p.m. - 12 hours underway already.  He told me at that point if the hurt didn't go away to some degree, he wouldn't make it to the finish.  With that doubt creeping in and the fact that his time was so off his estimates, we decided I wouldn't try to find him in the final seven miles. It would be too hard to determine when he would be into the final aid station.

So, that's the last I saw of him until the finish.  I spent a semi-sleepless night waking intermittently to check the webcast site to see what aid stations he had passed.  Around 1 a.m. I was heartened to see he had made it to the 100K point earlier in the evening where he would meet our friend D. to pace him.  A check at 4-something a.m. showed that he had made it to the 77-mile point, but there was no update to the 82 mile marker.  That was worrisome given that he should have made that point.  A few minutes later, however, an update showing his arrival at Mile 86 eased my mind.  (They never did update that 82 mile point.)  Then a couple of hours later - a call from D. saying they were eight miles from the finish.  Yeah!  Apparently, the Advil (and the three others he took) did their work.  Those and some coffee later in the night helped get him over the hump of despair, and he was able to keep going.  I know our friend D., who showed up to pace Hubby for the last 38 miles, helped immensely too.

So, finally - the finish. Approaching the finish line at 9:30 a.m. - 27:30 hours after starting this adventure - the kids are excited to run out and meet Daddy and head back over the finish line with him.

Crossing the finish line!

DONE and DONE IN....

I am incredibly proud of Hubby's achievement.  I know this was extremely hard for him, and I don't think he's even begun to process what he has accomplished yet, but he did it!  Out of 244 registered participants, only 118 finished before the cutoff.  And he was one of them.

So, what do I take from this event?  Well, first that it is an amazing race.  I mean, to run 100 miles on flat land would be accomplishment enough, but the KM100 is a hard, hilly course on the Ice Age Trail. Check out the elevation chart....

Source

I was not inspired to try to run one of these one day, however I was inspired to volunteer if I could.  It would be an awesome event to be part of and helping all these amazing runners trying to get through a tough event like this would be very rewarding I believe.

Crewing was fun, too, and I definitely would enjoy doing that again if Hubby ever recovers fully and forgets the pain of this one. Next time, though, I would want to plan on just crewing.  Trying to juggle crewing here and there with entertaining the kiddos elsewhere was a bit too stressful.  I think they would enjoy crewing, too, if their expectations were appropriately set.  Something to think about....

Speaking of the kids,... here's what WE did while Hubby ran for 27 hours....

Two nights of tent camping meant two nearly sleepless nights for all three of us....

It was still fun, though!  Really!  I seriously enjoyed camping and hope to do more of it in the future.  The howls and yips of coyotes aside (and I really shouldn't have read the book Killer Grizzly as a kid), I really thought this was a fun way to spend a couple of days.  What's not to like?  You can get as dirty as you want, eat all the pre-packaged junk you want, and spend all your time outdoors.  It's great!

Although next time I would plan a camping trip that was more kid-friendly.  I am sure it was not quite so much fun for them when the camping trip was kind of shoe-horned around Daddy's race.  Anyhoo...a small park at the campground helped for entertainment - as did having friends along to play with!

Between crewing gigs, a trip to Old World Wisconsin was educational and fun for everyone.  Too bad the kids were so pooped out from a night of little sleep.  They got something out of it, though, I believe.  I have to say I didn't even know this place existed!  However, if you ever have a hankering to experience what life was like for the different ethnic groups who inhabited Wisconsin in the mid-1800s, this is the place to be!

Hands on wheel making for the kids...

Hands on horse feeding...

Hands on school learning....(I have to say the scritch of slate pencil on slate board would have driven me batty 150 years ago.)

Hands on toys and games....

So, that's how we spent our weekend...How about you?

What did you do on your weekend?  Anything fun, educational, challenging, or otherwise a$$ kicking?

Kalamazoo Half Marathon Race Report - and Cryocup Winners!

Okay, so it has been a week and a half since the Kalamazoo Half Marathon, and I still owe myself and anyone else who cares a decent race report.  So, much has happened since then it is almost hard to get back to this, so I realize now - whether a race goes well or not - spit it out.  Sitting on a race report doesn't make it any easier to write, especially when the race didn't go your way.  Of course, on the positive side of things, I have mostly sorted through my feelings on the whole thing, so this probably won't sound quite as whiny as I originally had it.

So, the Kalamazoo Half Marathon... The short version is that I ran it, I got a new Half PR of 2:05:22, and I wish I could have done better.  You see, I had hoped beyond hope that I would come in under two hours.  I dreamed, I went for it, I failed.  I really wasn't ready for sub-2:00, but that's another story and you can read about it here.  On to the report...

Kalamazoo Half Marathon Race Report

First, I will start out by saying the Kalamazoo Marathon and Half Marathon are AMAZINGLY well put on events.  From the expo, to the race, to the post-race hoopla, this was FUN and WELL ORGANIZED. Really, I can't say enough about it.  So, my own disappointment aside, I really had a good time doing this race.

For us, everything started with a long drive to Kalamazoo on Friday.  Without traffic in Chicago, the trip should take about six hours.  With traffic, potty breaks, lunch break, etc., it took closer to eight.  The kids were happy as clams with about a week's worth of snacks and videos to watch.  Hubby, my mom and I were happy rotating the driving and reading.  For the most part, the trip was uneventful, albeit long.  A prolonged lunch break in Chicago at a vegetarian restaurant called Victory's Banner was delicious (highly recommend!), however traffic heading out of Chicago caused much internal cussing and teeth gritting.  Eventually, though, we made it.

The race stuff for us started on Saturday with a trip to the race expo, which was located downtown at the Radisson Hotel.  Although on the smaller side, the expo was well-organized, had a ton of freebies, and a lot of race excitement going on.

After the expo, some lunch, and window shopping downtown, it was on to visit with family for the day.

Race day dawned cloudy and cool, for which I was grateful.  For 10 days, like a nerd, I had been watching as the weather forecast flip-flopped from 66 and dry to 76 and t-storms.  What we ended up with was somewhere in the middle.  The high for the day was to be 77 with t-storms later.  However, the morning was mostly cloudy and cooler with temps mainly in the 50s to low 60s - at least for the Half. In other words, darn near perfect.

We got to the Nazareth College campus an hour before the start, so that we could do the gear-check, warm-up, coffee drinking thing.  The start/finish area had everything a runner could need, and it truly lived up to its name of Tent City.  There were tents for everything: gear check, massages, results, post-race food, anytime food to purchase, beer tent, and then - sans tent: a ton of porta-potties.

Parking was easy, as the venue had parking lots galore and attendants with flags made choosing the perfect spot easy.  (It was perfect, because you didn't have to think about it.)

Gear check was seamless with a tear tag from our bibs.  Coffee was free at the table next door.  Volunteers were cheerful and helpful.

Right on time, the marathon started at 8 a.m.  Immediately after their start, they started announcing for the half marathoners to line up for our 8:20 start.  There was no corral system, but runners were encouraged to find their spot in the crowd by lining up near the appropriate pace group. Wending my way through 2,200 runners to sidle up to the 2:00 pace group was no easy feat, but with a lot of "excuse me, pardon me's," I eventually made it.  From there my plan was to stick like glue to the chick holding the sign.

The pacers were well outfitted with super bright pink and orange shirts (pink for the gal, orange for the guy), so it was easy to keep them in sight.  Of course, it was easier still because - as stated - I insisted on running right on their heels.  In fact, I am pleasantly surprised that I didn't trip one of them up in the first couple of miles; I really was determined not to lose them.

As I have never run with a pace group, I didn't know what to expect.  I have to say that the hardest part of running with them for me was the crowd.  There were a LOT of people on this course, and seeing as I was trying to stick with the pacers, there wasn't a lot of wiggle room to just move out on my own and find my own holes.  The pacers would see a hole in the crowd and then dodge through it.  Then the hole would close and those of us following would find ourselves cut off.  So, then we'd have to find a hole and catch up.  To be honest, I found that fairly stressful.  The other challenging part of following the pace group is that we ran through the water stations.  I have never done this before.  I won't go through the details of the mess I created, but suffice it to say that there was a mess.  To be honest, I don't know if I would do a pace group again.  I guess I would have to see what their strategy was beforehand and decide from there.  Our pacers weren't particular chatty or personable with the group - actually not really at all - so that didn't help.  Aside from a cheerleader type, "who's going to come in under two hours?  Rah!" to which a couple of us responded with a nervous, half-hearted "Maybe," they really didn't invest a lot of time in talking to the group.

Being as close to the pacers as I was, of course, I could hear them talking back and forth to each other comparing pace times.  I know that for those first three miles we went back and forth between 8:55 and 9:09 pace.  They sounded pretty happy with that and seemed determined to come in to the finish line about a minute ahead of 2 hours.

So, my race...

Mile 1: 9:07

Mile 2: 9:01

Mile 3: 9:02

So, the first few miles flew by fairly quickly.  As I said, I was holding a pretty decent pace with the group, and it felt comfortably hard.  I found it difficult to dodge through holes on their heels and run through the water stations, but I was doing it.  The first couple of miles were on regular road with there being an ever-so-slight downhill in the first mile.  Somewhere around mile 3, we got into downtown Kalamazoo, and with that came the red-brick road.  That was a bit tough to run on, because the brick wasn't too tightly packed together - a lot of ankle turning potential.  But check out this cool billboard:

Mile 4: 9:17
Mile 5: 9:15
Mile 6: 9:15

Somewhere around mile 4 is I believe the start of my personal downfall.  Listening to the chit-chat between the two pacers, I gather that they somehow fell off pace a bit.  That is supported by the split times on my Garmin.  Pacer #1 had the GPS watch, while Pacer #2 had just a regular watch, and at one point Pacer #1 mentioned that she had lost the satellite.  At least that is what it sounded like they said.  In any case, it is apparent that we weren't going quite the 9:09 we needed to maintain for two hours.  This is pure speculation on my part - to soothe the part of my ego that needs to be soothed - but since I started fading from the pace group around mile 6, I am assuming they picked up the pace a bit to make up for lost time.

So, I managed to stick with the pace group for six miles, and I am happy with that.  I would have thought I could stay a bit longer, but I guess it just wasn't my day.

Some highlights from this part of the race: Around mile 5 a couple of things happened, one is we cut over onto a paved trail that ran alongside the river.  This was a very beautiful part that involved a bridge or two.  (See how memory fades when you don't write the race report right away?)  Also, still hanging with the pace group, we ran through a GU station.  Since I hadn't taken any GU until now, I decided to snag one as we went through, and - yes - I did try to ingest it while running - another new thing for me.  That went better than the liquid refreshment, but it still didn't make a pretty sight as I bobbled the GU and my water bottle around.

Around Mile 6, I had a first, as we went over a shaky wooden foot bridge.  Picture running on a trampoline for a couple hundred feet.  The only thing that made that worthwhile at all was the collective Whoa that went up from all the runners around me.

Mile 7: 9:32
Mile 8: 9:31

Miles 7-8 saw me giving up a bit.  I was feeling sorry for myself for losing the pace group, and I was getting tired.  I decided to walk through the water stations, as I had nothing to prove anymore.  Seeing my family at this point did a lot to recharge me but then I was faced with The Hill.

Mile 9: 10:34

Big slow down here, as the first of the two only really big hills presented itself.  I ended up walking the first half of it, mostly again because I was pooped and a bit down on myself (yes, I can be that childish apparently).

Mile 10: 9:58
Mile 11: 9:37

Whew, reached the top!  The next couple of miles were uneventful, as we wended our way through some nice residential neighborhoods.  I was happy that we were getting close to the end, but - again - feeling really tired.  The only nice thing was that I was actually passing people at this point.  Hey, maybe it's not all bad!

Mile 12: 10:01 
Mile 13: 10:03
.1: 9:19

Miles 12 and 13 presented me with the expected fade as I ran into uncharted territory (having only run 12 miles in training).  Really, I am happy with my split times here, as they are a lot more modest of a loss than what I normally see.  Right towards the end, too, there was - insult to injury - the last massive hill.  By then I was annoyed that I had given up so easily on the first hill, so I decided to take this one on.  With folks cheering me on, I pumped up the hill as fast as my tired legs could carry me, and then - once that was done - I rewarded myself with a walk break, just so I could choke back the lung that was threatening to come up.  The fact that that all averaged out to a 10-minute pace makes me feel pretty smug.

Then it was just through one more very scenic residential area and on to the finish.  Lined with spectators, the last half mile was something to remember.

So, that's basically the race.  Afterwards, I headed straight to gear check to get my bag and then on to the massage tent.  There, I got not so much a massage as a compression and stretching session.  That was nice, although I would have preferred getting one of the folks doing more of a traditional massage. After that, I headed to the finish line to catch my husband finish the marathon.  I cheered finishers on for over an hour before I got a call saying he was already done and waiting for me near the reggae band.  (Apparently, he had crushed his previous marathon PR and I had missed him while I was being compressed.)  Oops.  We always seem to miss each other at the finish line.

So, other random thoughts from the race

Nutritionally speaking, I think I had a brilliant plan for carrying my Clif Bloks for "quick release."  What I ended up doing was cutting the Block packets in half and then storing them upright in my compression short pockets as is.  That way I could just pull them out and pop them into my mouth mid-run like tic-tacs.  The unfortunate part of this system is that it doesn't work if you don't utilize it.  Running with the pace group, I don't know if I was breathing too hard to contemplate chewing, or just concentrating so hard on following their lead (and they weren't doing GUs or anything until closer to mile 6), but I never took the time to eat the Clif Bloks until much later in the race.  I ended up taking a GU around mile 5.5, and then two Clif Bloks at around Mile 10.  That's it.  Not exactly what I had planned.

Aches and pains speaking, I did great!  This is the first longer race I have done in a while where I didn't feel like I had to nurse one pain or another throughout the event.  I take that as a huge positive.  Unfortunately, I still have a lot to learn about race recovery, because I now feel I am nursing aches and pains incurred during post-event exercise this past week.  Ah well, I'll figure it out someday.

Really random observations on the event, in addition to what was already stated

1) There seems to be a huge support for minimal running in Kalamazoo, because I have never seen so many people run minimally in a race before.
2) I saw a ton of people in Vibrams.
3) I saw one man finish the marathon barefoot.
4) I saw one lady RUN across the finish (either the half or full event) wearing a boot (like from a stress fracture), and she had a decent time so she wasn't walking the whole race only to run the finish.
5) I saw one man run into a lamp post (honest!).  He came away with a bloody nose.
6) I saw one person being supported on both sides around Mile 7 heading to the med tent - completely exhausted.
7) There were a ton of bands on the course, which made things festive
8) Volunteers were amazing
9) Crowd support was phenomenal too.

Overall, my impression of this race was super positive.  Bottom line:  This is a race put on by runners for runners, and there is a ton of community support and input.  You can tell that the whole community has bought into this event.  There are plenty of water stations and friendly volunteers.  Porta-potties and signage on the course were well represented.  And the spectators were great.  It's been a while since I have run a race that was so well cheered by folks.  The course wasn't the most scenic I have run, but it wasn't the worst either.  In the end it was a nice, urban race, and I would definitely consider doing it again.

Cryocup Winners

Congrats to Yo Momma (you're right; that joke doesn't get old) and Running on Cloud Nine for winning the cryocup giveaway!  Contact me at ShannonAverageRunner@gmail.com to arrange delivery!

Run Away to the Bay Race Report

Ok, it's taken me a while to put this baby together, but here it is.  Sorry if it seems a bit rambling, and sorry for the lack of pictures.  Heading out of the house, my camera was the one thing I forgot to take along.

A Relay?

First of all, why do a relay?  Well, that's a good question.  I think long distance relays are kind of becoming the thing to do in the running world - at least around here.  In Wisconsin alone, you have access to a couple of big events: the Fall 50 Relay in Door County and the Ragnar Relay series (Madison to Chicago, Winona to Minneapolis), just to name a few.  If there is nothing appealing to you about riding in a car for eight to 24 hours with a bunch of stinky, sweaty, tired runners, then consider this: how often are you a part of a TEAM?

I think, bottom line, that is what is appealing about doing a relay - at least for me.  Running is such a solo sport. You might belong to a club or train with a group.  But when it comes right down to it, running is about my time, my pace, my splits, my race.  Runners don't often get that feeling of camaraderie that comes with being a part of a team.  Relays are the one place (or race) where you can do that.

In any case, that is why I like doing them.  I like working together as a team towards one goal - to finish an event.  I like everything from choosing a team name and dressing up (if that's how you roll), to packing for the event and decorating the car.  I like riding around together and spending the day talking.  I LOVE stopping and cheering on my teammates, and - of course - I love the running.

So, last year when I heard that there was a new relay coming to town - Run Away to the Bay (put on by Run Away Shoes) - I knew I had to do it.  Unfortunately for me, my mysterious shin injury got in the way.  I never signed up a team; I turned down offers to join other teams.  I thought I was out of luck. Then, as luck would have it, though, at the very last minute, a friend of mine needed someone to fill in for a runner who was unable to make it.  By then, my leg was feeling pretty good, and I was able to say yes.  And, I am glad I did.

The Recap

The bottom line on Run Away to the Bay is that it is a race put on by runners for runners.  What does that mean?  It means, anything that would normally irritate you in a race isn't there, because a runner set it up.  This was a well thought out event.  It's still in its infancy, if you will, so there is room for tweaking.  But, the basic structure is in place and this will go from a fun first-time event to a FUN GREAT race in the future.

So, where does it go?  Adapted from their website:

The relay begins in Menomonee Park in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, winds its way through the towns of Neenah and Menasha, utilizing portions of the Fox Cities Marathon course, before merging with Midway Rd/Schmidt Rd and heading towards Kaukauna. It then traces a part of the rural countryside of Calumet County before entering the Fox River Trail just north of Forest Junction. The course follows the trail for close to fifteen miles before popping out at the DePere Boat Landing on the Fox River.  Runners then cross the river and join up with a portion of the Green Bay Marathon course. The finish line and post-race party are at The Bar on Holmgren Way, only a short drive from the fabled Lambeau Field.

There are ten legs in the relay, with the shortest one being three miles and the longest at close to eight.  As with all relays, you are expected to have one runner run a leg, while the rest of your team piles into a car and drives to the next exchange point.  Teams could consist of two to six runners, and you could mix up the legs any way you wanted.  At the exchange point, runners are swapped out and the day goes on.  Gatorade, water and restrooms were provided at each exchange point.  At Exchange #5, at the halfway point, there was chicken noodle soup, broth, and bagels for refreshment. Volunteers at all the exchanges and along the course were friendly and helpful.

There were some scenic routes along Lake Winnebago's shore and along the Fox River Trail, and into parks and through nice neighborhoods.  There were also some not-so-scenic ones on bigger roads and through more industrial areas.  Regardless of where you were running, though, the course was well marked, and signage was everywhere.  

Instead of passing a baton or slapping on a snap bracelet, Run Away to the Bay provided Nathan safety vests to wear.  Teams were expected to pin their race number to the vest and then just pass the vest back and forth. Although I realize these were provided for safety reasons, the vests were a little hard to pass between runners.  Some teams were a little more on the ball than we were, though, as we saw teams who had TWO vests, so they could prep runner #2 before runner #1 got to the exchange.  When runner #1 arrived, they basically just had to congratulate the one, wish luck to the other, and they were on their way.  Next year, if the vests are used again, this would be my strategy as well.  

Coming in as a last-minute replacement for my team, I would have been happy running the three- and four-mile legs originally assigned to me.  As it was, however, soon after coming on board, I was asked if I could swap legs with another team member who had broken a toe a couple of weeks earlier.  (She was still running, just not as long.)  I said sure, and that is how I ended up with legs 1 and 10 (eleven miles) for the race.  That's not unprecedented for me.  I once ran legs 1 and 9 of the Fall 50.  However, I found it amusing - as the outsider coming into this team - that I somehow got what I consider the honor legs - starting things off and finishing them up.  

So, to race day....

The day of the race dawned cool and clear.  I drove over to my friend's house, where we all piled into her minivan to make the 20 or so minute ride down to the start.  Once there, it was fun to run into other friends and chat with everyone as we got ready.  The start was pretty low-key with coffee brewing and music playing.  One of the runners in our leg did a great job singing the national anthem before it was time to don the vest and toe the start line.  

There were four waves for the relay event, starting at 7 am, 8 am, 9 am, and 10 am, respectively.  This is so teams with different paces can all participate and hopefully finish up around the same time.  Because our team started at 8 am, I had it somehow in my mind that everyone would be running around a 9-minute mile.  Yeah, not so much.  When the horn sounded, the crowd took off, and I felt like I was left in the dust.  Looking at my watch, I could see I was running 7:30, which - as anyone who knows me knows - I cannot maintain for any length of time.  Soon, the bulk of the pack started pulling away.  Too bad, too, because as it turns out, I did a very decent (for me) 8:15 for the first mile, and I ended up averaging 8:46 for the 5 miles.  

While the day had started out cool, the air felt humid and I found it hard to breathe for much of that first leg.  By the time I came into the exchange point, the sun was starting to peek out and the promise that the weather forecasters had made of 75-degree weather was about to be fulfilled.  After making the exchange with our second runner, we all hopped in the car and drove to the next exchange, which was located at a local watering hole.  There I made use of the restroom to completely change out of my sweaty running clothes into drier versions of same.  If I am going to have to sit out eight legs, I am not going to do it sitting in my own sweat.  The second exchange offered beer tastings of Miller64, one of the sponsors of the race. I am not a huge fan and it was a little early for me, but a lot of folks were bellying up to the table for that one.

Various tastings were a nice touch at the Run Away to the Bay.  Aside from the beer tasting, there was also a chocolate tasting provided by Wilmars Chocolates in Appleton and wine tasting at the Ledgestone Winery (one of the exchange points on the Fox River Trail).  Now, those I was happy to partake in - and they were both delicious in their own right.  Raffles were there to be entered as well.... My favorite was the win a free bar of customized chocolate once a month for a year!  Of course, the free month of yoga or the gift card to a local running store would have been great, too.

Taking part in a relay that lasts over eight hours long, you would think it would be a long, perhaps even boring day, but it isn't.  I am always surprised at how fast the day goes by.  Dropping runners off, picking them up, cheering your team on, cheering other teams on, talking with folks along the way: that all goes a long way towards keeping me entertained, and really the day becomes a blur.

By the time I got to my last leg at Leg 10, I was kind of ready to be sedentary.  It's hard to get all pumped up when you have: 

1. Already run five miles earlier in the day
2. Been driving all day
3. Been cheering people on all day
4. Not eaten very well
5. Had two samples of wine not an hour before, and 
6. Are sweating it out in 75-degree weather

That all being said, though, that is what makes a relay FUN and CHALLENGING.

So, with the day drawing to a close and the promise of the finish line ahead, I accepted the sweaty, much worn yellow vest from my friend and trotted off towards the bridge that would take me over the Fox River and towards The Bar.  Green Day pounding in my ears, fresh Gatorade in my handheld, I felt pretty good.  For about a mile.  Then I crash landed on the Planet REALITY.  

It was H O T.  

I mean, we've had a warm winter, but nothing can prepare you for that first day of really hot weather.  Granted, looking back we all keep telling ourselves that at least it wasn't Boston hot.  But, seriously, at the time, you couldn't convince me of that.  The last leg could not boast a lot of shade, and pretty soon I had drained my Gatorade.  It wasn't too long until I took my first walk break.  Then I took another.  And another.  Each time I did, I watched my average pace drop 10 seconds.  Ah well.  Not much you could do but put the head down and get through it.  A huge contrast to leg 1, but what are you going to do?  That's the joy of the relay, whose motto should really be Suck it Up, Buttercup; It's Time to Take One for the Team.  Well, a slow one.  Cause it wasn't going fast.  At least not for me at that point.  I apologize to all the cars and teams that drove by and cheerfully cheered me on.  I didn't mean to just half-heartedly wave and grunt at you.  Next time, I promise I will do better.  In the meantime, to the finish....

Yay!  Finish Line.  Done.  Get my medal.  Dump water on head.  Enjoy a quick beer.  Take a photo.  Get in line for post-race massage.  Grab some food.  Grab some water.  Already feeling better.  The post-race party didn't last long for my team.  We were all whipped.  However, it looked like a fun party.  The DJ was a riot.  The music was grooving.  The beer was flowing.  And, everyone was in a great mood.  It's fun to celebrate a team accomplishment with other teams.  

So, to wrap it up, our team finished in 8:26:08 - not a bad endeavor.  And, more importantly, it was a fun day. Run Away to the Bay was a good event.  Would I do it again?  Yes.  Would I recommend it to other people?  Sure.  Will it ever be as popular as some of the other relays?  Only time will tell, but with some tweaks here and there, then yeah - I think it could be.  

Happy Running!

Catching up on my sanity...Be back soon

So, you may not realize it, but I owe you a race report.  I had a GREAT time running the inaugural Run Away to the Bay, a 55-mile relay, on Saturday, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to sit down to the computer and share the experience yet.  It's been a crazy busy week, and I think I am still catching up on my sleep, work, chores, family time, sanity....  You know, the usual stuff that you let slide when things get hectic.  I'll get to it soon, though.

In the meantime, here is one of my favorite pictures (well, after I cropped off my gut hanging out) from the event - me with Aaron Rodgers.  Nice of him to show up and report for volunteer duty, wasn't it?  Hee-hee!

I'll post more soon!

Happy Running!

Also, don't forget, I have a fun giveaway coming up soon, courtesy of Peak Performance Physical Therapy and Sports Medicine.  Stayed tuned!

Scheels Run for Home Race Report - 10K PR!

To truly write an unbiased race report for the Scheels Run for Home would be hard for me.  It is a race that our running club puts on every year and one I have been involved with in some capacity or other for a number of years, so, of course, I think it's GREAT!  So, more than just a generic report, I'll give my personal account of the event.

When last I left you, it was the day before the Run for Home, and having signed up for the 10K, I was trying to decide how to run it: easy peasy long run pace or as fast as my legs could carry me.  Well, as life would have it, the kids were spending Saturday night at the grandparents, so that Hubby and I could enjoy a rare date night.  For us this weekend, that simply meant dinner out and a DVD back at home.  Hubby was in a celebratory mood, as he had spent his day in the Milwaukee area running the Trailbreaker Marathon - once called one of the top 25 toughest marathons in the U.S. by Marathon & Beyond.  I don't call Hubby Distance Dude for nothing, and he proved once again why I like that moniker for him.  He placed sixth overall in the marathon, finishing first in his age group.  Crazy.

Over a dinner of avocado egg rolls and Mediterranean-style pizza and while sipping a cosmopolitan, we had a great evening talking about everything.  Back at the ranch, I had another two beers while we watched a DVD - uninterrupted and with the sound at a reasonable level, so as we could actually hear it.  For a few minutes, I thought we'd actually be able to watch the movie without subtitles for once, until the dog decided to play with her obnoxious squeaky hedgehog toy.  Oh well.  Subtitles, after all.  All this to say that any plans I had had to run the 10K hard went right out of my head.

The next morning, Hubby had to be at the Run for Home early to volunteer.  I woke up and got myself ready at a leisurely pace.  Having downgraded this event to a simple training run in my mind, I felt pretty relaxed about the whole thing.  In fact, I was so relaxed that I almost arrived too late for the start, pulling into the parking lot with just fifteen minutes to spare.  The race takes place at the baseball stadium for our minor league baseball team - a farm team for the Brewers.  Since I was so late, I needed to park across the parking lot from the stadium.  This wasn't a big deal.  I just used the parking lot for my warm-up jog.  (You know how unscientific I am about these, since I only started doing them at the Point Bock Run in March.)  I jogged from my car towards the stadium, jogged back to my car when I realized I had forgotten something, ran back toward the stadium to the registration area, ran back to the entrance of the stadium towards chip timing....You get the picture.  Along the way, I ran into a lot of familiar faces and friends, which made it more fun.

Being in charge of sending emails out for our running club, I had been watching the weather forecast all week and advertising that race day would be partly cloudy with a high of 70 degrees.  Well, that didn't pan out.  The day of the event dawned fully cloudy and a chilly 39 degrees or so at the start with a projected high of only in the low 60s.  I had chosen to wear my running skirt and my long-sleeved Lakefront Marathon technical shirt, along with my Hubby's compression calf sleeves.  For the race itself, that didn't turn out too badly, although it was chilly standing at the starting line.

As you can imagine, I didn't have a lot of time to wait around, seeing as I was so late.  However, I must have looked very approachable yesterday morning, because in that brief time I was chatted up by two different ladies: one asking about the compression gear, the other about Lakefront Marathon.

I had forgotten my music, so I was really just looking to take it easy during the 10K.  Honestly, I was.  As I got started, however, something clicked over in my brain and I felt myself doing a little more than my easy peasy long run pace.  I can't even explain what happened.  It wasn't like some killer instinct turned over inside of me.  I didn't even consciously make the decision to RACE.  I just slowly found myself picking up the pace until by the time I was a mile into the event, I felt like I was fairly committed to just running by feel and giving it my best shot.

The result?  A 10K PR! As far as I can tell anyway.

I haven't run a lot of 10Ks; I really have never liked them.  They're too short to lollygag but too long to not think about pace.  A lot of 10Ks I have run were before I ever kept track of such things as results.  However, a search last night for information leads me to believe that this is over a four minute PR on my best 10K race time to date.  Previously - in 2006 - I ran a 10K at 59:07.  This race, I finished in 54:57, for an 8:51 average pace.  The kicker is that in looking at the day's 5K results, I realized that if I had run the same pace for the 5K event, I would have gotten second in my age group.  (Hey, it's all about who shows up that day, isn't it?)  As it was, I was 12th in my age group and finished right smack in the middle of the field.  Hmm, ergo "average" runner, I guess.

I don't know what has gotten into me lately, or what has changed.  These past few months, I have definitely gotten faster.  I can't explain it, but I'll take it.  I still feel like someone should pinch me so I can wake up.  On average, I am running a lot faster than I ever have before.  I keep expecting someone to show up and say, sorry, we had the clocks wrong.  Either that, or I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.  With Point Bock, I was convinced that my PR at that 5-Miler was a fluke.  But, now I am wondering.

In any case, the Run for Home is a good event if you are in the area - and I am not just saying that because our club puts it on!  The course wends its way through the local technical college's campus into area neighborhoods before turning around and coming back.  There is a slight hill going both ways, as you have to go over a bridge, but it's not that daunting.  Mostly, the course is flat.  It's fun to start and finish at the baseball stadium.  The last two-tenths of a mile are around the baseball field's warning track, and you finish up right near first base.  There is a ton of food afterwards, and the kids' races are a lot of fun.

In fact, that was my next stop, as my volunteering position had me working the finish line of the kids' quarter-mile, half-mile, and mile fun runs.  That was a blast! I loved watching all the kids' excitement as they started out, and it was fun to encourage them to keep going if their race had them doing more than one lap around the field.  E. did great running on her own for the half mile.  She always makes me smile, because - like me - she has a tendency to take walk breaks, but when she runs, she is FAST - passing everyone she can reach.  If she ever decides that running is what she wants to do, the other kids will have to watch out.  LG did awesome, too, in the quarter-mile event running with Hubby.  He makes me smile in his own way, because as small as he is, he is stubborn and doesn't give up.  Both kids have been doing this event since they could walk, so it is nice to see the tradition continue.

I'll post some pictures from the race later, but for now - that's my race report!

Happy Running!  (Or, in my case today, Happy Yoga and Elliptical!)

Point Bock 5 Mile Race Report

On Saturday, I ran the best five-mile race of my life, got a PR (43:23), and had a great time doing it.

The Point Bock 5 Mile Run in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, is sponsored by the Stevens Point Brewery. It was started by runners in 1982 as a 5K and 10K event, and timing of the event was used as a means to showcase new Point beers.  After the brewery changed hands in the early 90s, the race was discontinued for some years before reemerging in its current 5 Mile form. The race registration comes relatively cheaply at only $20.  With that you get the run, a long-sleeved black t-shirt (which was really nice this year), and three drink tickets in the beer tent after the race.  So, here's my recap:

Friday night, the night before the race, I was a little worried about what race day would bring.  Despite a mild winter so far, Mother Nature saw fit to dump 5 to 7 inches of snow on us Friday afternoon into the wee hours of Saturday morning.  Waking up to a winter wonderland would have been wonderful if the race weren't looming on the horizon.  Unlike me, who mentally whimpered like a little baby, my hubby took it like a man and headed out bright and early to snow blow the driveway.  Once ready, we hopped into the car and hit the stores for some errands.  We needed to be at the bus by 9 a.m. but were first charged with picking up bagels and water for everyone.  Luckily, the roads were for the most part plowed, so getting to the stores and on the road was not quite as tricky as I would have thought.

Full bus of crazy fun running friends!

We made it to our running club's bus by 8:30 a.m.  Plenty of time to spare.  In fact, while the bus was already there, we were only the second set of passengers to have arrived.  This was our running club's third foray into an organized bus trip for an event, and the second time doing it for Point Bock.  Each trip has been wildly successful with each trip being slightly more wildly successful than the last.  For this year's Point Bock, we nearly filled a 50-some passenger bus.

The ride up to Stevens Point was somewhat subdued as everyone woke up and mentally prepared themselves for the race.  With the weather looking the way it was, I don't think too many people were expecting great racing conditions.  For myself, I just sipped on the coffee I had brought along, chatted with friends, and focused on timing my pre-race sandwich and banana correctly.  (With a noon start, I didn't want to get too hungry.)  The bus ride was great for the fact that we didn't have to do the driving, worry about parking, or any of that.

We arrived with plenty of time to spare - about an hour and a half before race start.  The bus had a nice cozy niche next to a loading dock to park, and after doing some artful maneuvering around a handful of parked cars that had me closing my eyes and cringing, the bus driver had us neatly tucked into our spot.  The bus would remain open for the duration of the event, heat running, bathroom available.  No doubt highly unenvironmental, but oh so decadent given the run on most race porta-potties.

A short walk to packet pickup had us race ready with about an hour and fifteen minutes left to go before the start.  Back on the bus, most people used that time to change clothes.  Since I had already gotten dressed, all I needed to do was slip off my winter boots and put on my Nike Pegasus.  With the weather being a balmy 28 degrees, I had thought I would wear two long-sleeve technical shirts and my lightweight shell jacket.  However, friends convinced me to strip down to bare bones, that I would be too warm in the jacket.  After some thought, I decided to take the plunge and pinned my number to shirt #2.  I had NEVER raced without a jacket in such conditions so this was going to be a new experience for me.  I felt a bit like I was going out on a limb, but - realistically - I have always been too hot for my races anyway, even in winter, so what did I really have to lose?

With an hour left until the start, the faster folks in our group started heading out for their warm-ups.  The reports back indicated that the roads were actually in good condition, and you could tell that they were starting to revise their goals.  I think most of them decided they would go for it.  At this point, I was still sitting on the bus.  I had never done a pre-race warm-up before in my life, and I didn't think I was going to start now.  But, then I thought, why not?  I am going to race without a jacket, why not try something else new?  So, out of the bus I went, by myself, sheepishly, to be honest, and started jogging down the street.  I had no idea of what a warm-up should consist of, so I headed down one block, turned around, came back, headed down another block, turned around, came back, and called it good.  When I told the more experienced runners what I had done, they just chuckled.  I believe I did something wrong, but I am still not sure what.  Ah well.  Mostly, I was just hoping I hadn't just destroyed my last half mile of the race.

As race time approached, I finally put down the coffee I had been sipping on and switched to water.  I ate a GU, and then with about eight minutes to spare it was time to head out.

Heading to the start.  Could I look more worried?

Strangely, even at 28 degrees, it wasn't that uncomfortable standing around at the start.  Maybe the excitement of the race kept me warm, but I didn't feel that miserable.  Once the gun sounded, I started my music, and took off.  I hadn't really come into the race with a plan, more to just run the way I felt, and that's what I did.  I had had an easy exercise week and taken the day before off, so there was no real reason I couldn't push myself a bit during the race.

So, I did run by feeling - so that it felt uncomfortably hard.  I have to say it's been a while since I ran a race where already in the first mile I was doubting I could pull this off.  I knew I was running too fast.  I thought to myself maybe I should slow down and do a speed I knew I could maintain, but then I thought who cares?  So what if I bonked?  It's not like I'd win an award either way, might as well just go for it.

So, the results:

Mile 1 - 8:24
Mile 2 - 8:36
Mile 3 - 8:48
Mile 4 - 8:52
Mile 5 - 8:43

Mile 1 went well.  It was typical of any first mile of any race I have ever done.  I went out way too fast (for me), and wasn't surprised when the mile split was called off at 8:35.  I forgot to factor in that I actually crossed the start line a bit after the clock was started.  After that I refused to look at my watch.  I didn't want to stress myself out like that.  I was going to do this thing by feel after all.

Mile 2 was arguably the hardest mile from a conditions standpoint.  For most of that mile we were running into the wind, and that made it hard.  I just put my head down and told myself it was the headwind that made that mile feel harder.

By the time we were approaching the halfway point turnaround, the faster folks were streaming past us coming the other way.  I saw Distance Dude and some other fast folks in the club, but then I just put my head down.  I was feeling the effort and was really getting thirsty.  From the year before I remembered that there was a water station at the turn, and I was really looking forward to grabbing a drink and walking through the station.

Given how thirsty I was, imagine my dismay when I reached the turn and there was NO WATER.  Mentally, I thought I was about to break down.  I was beyond thirsty at that point.  The GU I had had and all the coffee were taking their toll.  I couldn't believe they wouldn't have water.  I tried to think of reasons why.  Was it too cold?  Did something go wrong?  Was I simply remembering the race wrong from the year before?  I had thoughts of eating snow.  I had thoughts of simply giving up and walking some.  Seriously, I didn't think I could make it without water.  This was one of the first races in a long time I didn't take a water bottle to carry, and mentally I was devastated by the betrayal of no fluids.  My mental breakdown only lasted a quarter of a mile, happily.  I then decided I would just keep running, the faster to be done.

By the time I reached Mile 3, I was overjoyed to finally catch sight of the water station.  (I obviously had passed it without seeing it.) Although water was handed out in dixie cups only half full, it was still water and I took three of them.  I walked through the station (plus a little), gulping those little gems down like desert camels must when they find an oasis.  By the time I finished my drinks I had passed the last garbage can and - rather than to litter - I crumpled the cups up and carried them with me to the finish.  (By the way, as it turns out, if I had read the pre-race emails OR listened to the pre-race announcements, I would have known that the water station had been moved.   Oops.)

Somewhere before the water station.

During the fourth mile, I felt a bit recharged from the water and the feeling that I hadn't been betrayed after all.  Somehow I felt all was good.  Plus, I had the wind at my back.  I was still feeling worn out, but I also still felt strong somehow.  I was even passing some people.  Running along at this point, I got another club member in my sights - a gentleman who by rights shouldn't be that much faster than me.  I used him shamelessly for motivation to pull me forward.  I did eventually pass him and felt pretty smug chugging along.  Unfortunately, he later told me he had the same thought processes about me, because it wasn't too long after that - in the last mile - that he passed me.

So, the last mile.  That was HARD.  In fact, while I had thought the entire race was hard, effort-wise, that last mile was devastatingly hard.  I can't believe all the thoughts of quitting that flutter through one's mind.  My legs felt heavy, drained, my breathing was beyond ragged (in fact, I am happy I had music on so I didn't have to listen to it), and I just wanted to be done.  However, for whatever reason, I just kept going.  I really never did look at my watch during the event, but listening to the splits called off, I knew enough to realize I had a shot to get in under 45 minutes.

Coming over the finish line with 43:23 on the watch felt amazing.  A PR!  But more than that.  It was proof that I can go faster if I want.  Proof that if I train, I might have a shot at getting even better.  That's something I had all but given up on.  Oh, and as a final comment - one thing that was amazing about this race for me?  No aches or pains during the run, at least not so as I would notice.  (The shin of course is sore after, but I expected that.)

So, the race itself is a really fun event.  It's capped, so while it is a large event, it doesn't seem overcrowded.  The course is all along paved roads and follows an out-and-back route.  The middle mile is pretty going along the river, but most is non-descript roadway.

As far as I can tell, there are two big draws to this race.  1) It is fast and flat, so people out for speed have a good shot at achieving their goals. 2) The beer.  That's a no brainer, I guess.  Three full-sized beers are a big draw for - ahem - some people.  I found I liked the 2012 Black Ale well enough and enjoyed a couple of those.

All in all, I would definitely recommend this race for anyone who happens to be in the area.  A 5-Mile event in early March is a great way to break up the winter, and the beer afterwards is a fine reward for a job well done.

Full tent after the race.

Cheers to the beers - and the PR!

Happy running!