Lisa's Race Reports and Race Schedule

*The first part of the 2005 and the last half of the 2004 season were cancelled due to injuries sustained in a car accident in early June 2004: fractured kneecaps (2), fractured ribs, fractured sternum, fractured shoulder, hip/pelvis/spine injuries, sprained ankle and a closed head injury. I tried to get back into running too soon and set back my recovery.

I am beginning again with mostly walking and hope to strengthen my tendons, muscles, ligaments and joints before subjecting them to high impact.

I only managed to run one race in 2005, and it wasn't fast or pretty. I will be trying to actually RUN these races in 2006, but might have to take walk breaks on the longer ones if my body is not ready. So in the spirit of trying again (and again), here goes the 2006 schedule. (which was meant to start earlier than it did, but shortened due to "life happening", as well as being out of shape and injured.

Why did the crawdad cross the road? I don’t know, but he’s lucky he
didn’t fry! (maybe he did; I didn’t stop to take his picture because I
would have passed out or barfed if I had bent down and tried to get
back up)

Yes, I can now add a crawdad on the road to the list of strange
things I’ve seen while running. I also saw a vulture as well as our own
Todd Byers (who didn’t tell me he was coming. The last time he tried to
“surprise” me at a race, was last year’s turkey trot and I didn’t show.
You’d think he’d learn)

So back to the “race”, which I’ve pretty much decided to call
“Survivor Elma” (a little town between Olympia WA and the coast) It was in the
90s, (and was 103 yesterday) and that doesn’t count the fact that black
asphalt radiates heat up to 150 degrees on hot day and it was a recipe
for heat stroke.

I never should have let myself get talked into playing tennis
yesterday with the rude, arrogant, obnoxious European guy (who admittedly is a
great, competitive level player) at Pt Defiance with the heat warning
still on. I felt sick most of the day yesterday and my legs hurt this
morning. (oh yeah, it was still 84 degrees in my apartment this morning)
I’m also fighting off some sort of infection (sinus?) because my lymph
nodes in my neck have been swollen for two days and my back is still
sore from the hiking fiasco last week.

The heat warning is still in effect (people are supposed to stay
indoors and avoid strenuous exercise)

Yeah, it was a smart move for me to race today.

Robert and I hit the “early “start at 8:00 AM. It was already brutal
out. This is an out and back course on black asphalt with water stops
at the turn around for the 5K, 10K, 10 Mile and Half Marathon (full
marathon runners do the course twice) There was no shade (save a couple
of small patches of trees at the side of the road) or relief from the
heat.

I chose the ten mile run because I’ve only run that distance once
since the accident (and that was with walk breaks and a ten minute break
in between loops at the park waiting for Morgain to get there) and if I
want to be trained up for Portland, I’ve got to start increasing my
long runs.

The race directors (OK, Bob’s wife) not only had buckets and big
sponges but spray bottles at all the water stops. I honestly think that’s
the only thing that kept me alive.

I was not the least bit interested in time for this race. As a
matter of fact, I left the watch and Garmin at home. I’m trying to train,
not push myself to injury.

With the conditions as brutal as they were, No one was worried about
time; it was about survival. (one guy at the start that mouthed off of
Chuck Engle of all people (he’s sponsored, and runs a marathon a week)
http://www.chuckengle.com/ about how fast he was going to do the
marathon. He dropped out at the half. Chuck, who was very humble came in
with a great time.

Since I wasn’t worried about time, I stopped (and I mean a good long
stop in the shade) at every station (2 out, 1 at my turn around, and
two back) and drenched myself head to toe with the water bucket and
sponges, and used the sprayer to get the armpit and groin areas where the
blood vessels are closest to the surface.

At one point, when the 10 mile turn around was in view, I briefly
thought about passing it and doing the half marathon (the turn around
wasn’t much further and Bob lets us switch distances if we want/need to)
but decided against it. I’m glad I did. Most people were cutting their
races shorter.

After my turn around, I saw our own Todd Byers and Barefoot John
(John was wearing flip-flops and Todd actually had shoes on – There aren’t
calluses thick enough to prevent burns today)

I still started to see black floaters, and get dizzy and nauseated at
the 9 ½ mile mark, where I took a short walk break and drank some more
water, which almost came back up. I hydrated heavily yesterday and
this morning and drank Gatorade at the aid stations. It’s just not enough
in that kind of heat.

I came in with a horrible time of 2:28:40 and was 2nd overall in the
10 Mile event (the person who was first totally kicked my butt)

But I got a trophy… Hardware! I LOVE shinies!

Better yet, I felt like crap from the heat, but my legs, knees, hips
and back were OK. I think I’m finally on the road to recovery from the
accident.

The whole accident story was pretty funny. I was telling Chuck, Jeff
and Bob about it when Todd came in for his full marathon turn around
and I pointed at him and said, “He’s the one that rescued me from the
side of I-405 in Long Beach (my rental car was totaled)” I also had to
add that Todd was right and I was hurt worse than I initially thought.
We didn’t want them to go back out for the full (they took a dip in the
lake between halves) because the heat was dangerous, but I (the woman
who flew home with multiple fractures) had no room to call him crazy.

I also had to play medic. One of the participants came in with heat
exhaustion. I was joking about what a nice person I was for not taking
a picture of the barfing, but then I saw how sick he really was. I ran
back to the turn around area, got the buckets and sponges (Ice, unless
they’re fully stroked will make them shiver and get hotter) and got him
cooled down; so you have to cool slowly enough to avoid shivering.

Pictures are available here
http://www.wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/photo.html

Now, I’m going to take a cold shower and lay in front of the fan.

~L

Today I did it.

And that’s a BIG deal because I had almost given up. I’d given up on ever calling myself “runner” again, and racing, and feeling fit and good about myself. I let the car accident and other assorting thing that fall under “life happens” get me down.

The “Rainier to Ruston” last weekend reminded me how much fun races are and in the case of a relay, how much fun it is to be part of a team. That’s what made me sign up for the Sound to Narrows even though I hadn’t really been training. I had to do it. I had to put races on my calendar if I ever wanted to get back on track.

I ran into several friends before, during and after the race. A “surreal” experience happened when I had just run in to Pat from our Mountain Mamas team last week. All of a sudden, a strange man appeared out of the first aid tent, screamed “LISA!” and threw his arms around me to hug me. The funny thing is, I had NO idea who he was… None at all. I looked at his name tag (first name only) and realized that I only knew one Massage Therapist working for Multi-Care. OMG… It was “D” who I dated something like 3 or so years ago. He’s put on some weight and cut off his gorgeous, longish blonde hair and was sporting the short buzzed look of a man who’s hair is thinning. So I did what anyone would do in an awkward situation, shoved the camera at him and asked him to take a picture of Pat and I. Then I ran off to the starting line. [giggles]

The race start was very slow because we were packed in like sardines (the last running wave, the red wave is everyone running 9 minute miles or slower, so it’s the biggest wave). The first 1/3 of a mile or so was like being in a 14 minute mile cattle herd.

I did it. I ran the whole way (12k/7.5 Miles) I have not run that far in over two years.

There were walkers that were faster than my running, (I even got passed by a 70 year old) but I ran with out a break and without walking. I was going to try for a 12 minute mile pace (a safe pace that would leave my injured and untrained body unhurt) but between the slow start and the fact that I had to be very careful on the down hills (the knees don’t like them) and that I needed to “save it” for the many steep up hills, I didn’t make the pace I wanted. That’s OK. I did it, and I did it uninjured. That’s the important thing.

I DID IT!!!

When I hit the finish line, I was face to face (almost mowed him over) with my buddy Rick who works for the city. He was volunteering for the race and we just stood there and started at each other for a minute before I said, “I’d hug you, but I’m gross” and then he pointed at the tear off portion of my bib and said, “Actually, I need that.”

After I finished and got my bread and water (Roman Meal is a sponsor, so instead of a medal, each finisher gets a loaf of multi-grain bread, which was on my shopping list anyway) I headed over to the REI booth to ask Steve and Karlan to watch my bread while I headed back down the evil, mile long Vassault Hill to see Jeannette and Robert, I ran into my buddy Steve L on the way.

Jeannette called me from the bottom of the hill and I told her where I was and to watch for me. I met her and her friends at the bottom and walked up with them, cheered them on (it was her first race) and took pictures. After that, Robert called and he was at the bottom of the hill, so I cruised back down and walked with him up the hill and in to the finish. (his made the cutoff for the gate, but had a challenge that I’ll let him post about later) so it was really important to me to encourage and cheer him on.

I did Vassault Hill THREE times. I’m obviously a complete and total psycho!

After the race, Robert and I headed over to the RAM for burgers and Buttface Amber Ales. They were good.

I finished in 1:38:12, which is 20 minutes slower than when I did it in 2003, but I DID IT!

I’m a runner again (a runner who's about to get in to a nice warm bath)

The pics are available on my website at http://www.wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/photo.html

In celebration of National Trails Day, the "Mountain Mamas" brought home the gold (not silver, not bronze; we like GOLD) for the Mountaineers and the Rails to Trails Coalition at the 4th annual Rainier to Ruston Relay!!!

In a mere 6 hours, 9 minutes and 45 seconds, we slid down slippery slopes, made rope assisted descents, slogged through mud, muck and mire, dodged logging trucks, climbed out of river gorges, braved the terrifying recesses of port-a-potties and raced across a stretch of paved trail so hot that it put the Gobi Desert to shame.

I owe a HUGE thanks to my good friend Lauri in Arizona, who taught me how to race-walk in a Safeway in Mesa Arizona two and a half years ago. I normally run races and am NOT a race walker, but did this to help out friends (and the Rails to Trails Coalition) I laughed at it, but I used it today and it worked. We were eight minutes behind the lead master’s team, and I gave it a try and was amazed!.

We were not winning, heck, we weren’t even a challenge for the first place team (who had a “ringer” do the 1st three legs, (how exactly is that a six person relay?) and a real race walker on the 4th. We had 2nd place locked up and would receive a “spike”. Since this is a “rails to trails” event, the trophies are painted railroad spikes. Gold for 1st, Silver for 2nd, and Bronze for 3rd. I LOVE shiny things, especially race hardware. But I like GOLD, not sliver. I don’t even wear silver jewelry as a general rule. When all looked hopeless, I said out loud (to the mountain, the trees, my amused team mates, and more than one startled onlooker “I like GOLD!; They’re going down!”

I not only caught up to the other team (who had said “ringer” in the first legs), but left them in the dust. They were nowhere to be seen when I handed off to Peggy; and by the time she was done, we came in a full fifteen minutes ahead of them. We didn’t just win the masters division, we won the overall six person relay walk (young pups and all)

We ROCKED!!!

You can view a few pictures here

http://wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/photo.html

2005 Race Schedule/Results/Reports (after a more than one year break due to injuries, I only managed one 5K)

This is my first race since the car accident that fractured my kneecaps, ribs, sternum and shoulder a year ago in June of 2004. It was the Halloween 5K in Olympia Washington. It was my slowest 5K ever, but it is the first step in (hopefully) getting my running back on track. I’m sore, tired, wheezy, and don’t feel all that great, but I did it. I even got a shiny thing because even though I was slow, there were actually people slower than me, and no one fast in my age group showed up so I was 1st in my division. I’ll take it!

At this point in my running “career” I can probably write a book on how NOT to prepare for, or run a race. This one was no exception.

I did everything wrong in the weeks, days and hours leading up to this race. I was slow, but I finished. I have HARDWARE !!! I just love shiny things.

The timing of this race was unfortunate as it was the morning after my birthday party. I stayed out too late eating cake and other “naughty” foods and drinking cheap champagne. I didn’t get anywhere near enough sleep, got up too late for breakfast, forgot my soy shake and probably didn’t drink enough water. I’d been off my (limited) training the last two weeks because of fighting off a cold and then bruising my hip bone in the fall hiking last weekend. I also gave blood this week, and I could definitely tell that I’m still “a quart low”. To top it all off, my allergies have been bugging me and I was wheezing on my warm up run and had to take a hit off of my Primatene inhaler.

I got up and out of the house way too late and if the freeway hadn’t been completely clear, I might not have made it. I didn’t realize that I had forgotten my soy shake until I was half way between Tacoma and Olympia. I made excellent time and managed to arrive in plenty of time to sign in and make my way towards the bathrooms. Unfortunately, the line for the one restroom that was open was way too long, so I ended up wandering out into the woods to answer nature’s call. Hey, it was a state park.

I stuffed a couple of mini donuts and a gel down and drank a bit more water. The starting line was pretty funny. Since it was a Halloween run, several of us were in costume, including one guy dressed from head to toe as a can of Oly beer. He/she/it was running either the full or half marathon, in a nearly 6’ tall, rigid costume with actual cans dangling from the bottom. What a hoot! A running costume for me is all about accessories and nothing that will increase wind resistance or make me sweat worse than I already do. There was another devil (Anna) who had some trouble with her tail. I’m glad I just wore a red running shirt, sequined ears and carried my little sequined pitchfork.

It was a bit frustrating at the start having to go as slow as I did, but I knew better than to try to go fast. A lot of people (but not everyone) passed me, but that’s OK. This was all about my “first race” and getting back on track by finishing uninjured. One good thing about being this slow is that I didn’t end up with any “breathers” pacing off of me, and once we got settled into our “running order” out on the main road, I had space for the most part, except for one woman that I actually passed just before the 5K turnaround.

The race its self was pretty uneventful and I was definitely not at my best for several reasons. I crossed the finish line at 38:26, which is a full 10 minutes longer than I’d normally run a 5K in. But I finished. More important, I finished uninjured. Bob, the race director and the other folks from the race cheered me on at the finish just as if I’d come in with a decent time.

I ate chili with cheese for breakfast and cheered on other runners when they came in. I was as excited to receive this medal as I’ve ever been to receive one before. As a matter of fact, I darn near cried.

The accident didn’t take me out.

I have a long way to go… but…

I’m back.

It was a long journey from these fractured up knees...

back to this...

06/12/04 Sound to Narrows 12K (if the shirts aren't ugly like last year) CANCELLED DUE TO INJURY

After a fun filled, (yet exhausting) holiday, I topped it off by volunteering at the Seattle Marathon.

I never recovered enough from the accident to get back up to a marathon level training. Could I have run and finished the half? Probably, but I'd have been asking for ankle, knee, hip, back, tendon and ligament problems. I decided to be smart instead of stubborn and bow out this year (not like I didn't already cancel my entire summer race schedule)

So since my running ethic is such that I believe all runners should volunteer at least once a year, I decided to be a course marshal.

My position was on the final stretch of the nasty hills that this marathon is infamous for. I was at Lakeview Blvd E, and East Highland Drive, which is at mile 11.6 for the half marathon and mile 24.7 for the full (1 1/2 miles from the finish)

This meant two things. That this was the place where people most needed support and encouragement as this last stretch of hill can only be described as lonely, painful, depressing and demoralizing. This is where those running the full marathon physically and mentally want to quit (and that's after hitting and climbing over "the wall" when the steep nasty hills masochistically start at mile 21)

It also meant that I would be one of the last people on the course as I was close to the end

It additionally meant that I was on the West side of the hill and would not see any sun until afternoon.

It was below freezing when I woke up this morning and was still freezing when I arrived at my location at 7:45 this morning. I work silk long underwear, fleece socks, fleece hat and good layers, but it was still FREEZING and I wasn't running, I was standing. I fought hypothermia most of the day.

I was no where near any restrooms, so it was quite a hike/run/bike ride to get to them. That was actually a good thing because it warmed me up a bit and likely helped me get through the entire day without becoming seriously hypothermic.

I jumped around, yelled encouragement to runners and did anything I could to stay warm (next time, I'll wear the expedition weight long underwear) and the Seattle motorcycle cops kept riding by yelling "Hey... Are you cold yet?" Funny guys...

The first "break" I took was a break that my intestines said had to happen "NOW". Luckily, one of the HAM radio guys was there and he took over my station for me (I had to stop traffic coming off of a side road) and I (literally) ran down the hill because it was a desperate situation and because I needed to get warm. At the bottom of the hill, one of the other HAM radio guys asked if I was going on a potty break and gave me his bike. That worked out well, except for the fact that I left my mittens on the back of the bike when I was in the port-a-potty and forgot they were on the pack when I got back on to ride back up the hill. I still had my knit gloves, but they weren't really enough.

I dropped off the bike and ran the half mile up the hill back to my station. So I guess I actually did run part of the Seattle Marathon this year.

When the first of the half marathon runners came by, I was yelling, "Only a Mile and a Half to go; You're almost there!!! Just follow the space needle!!!

OMG... I was a raving lunatic, but I actually got several people to start running again, most seemed to appreciate the encouragement, and at least 90% or better sped up, and/or smiled and picked up their feet better (that's a sad, lonely stretch and the stupid Space Needle never seems to get any closer)

I saw "W". I was actually surprised to see him running, but he did it and came in at a pretty impressive time.

One woman came by and saw my hat that I got when I ran with my girl buddy at the Girls on the Run race last year. She said "Girls on the Run?" I said, "Yeah" and she gave me the thumbs up. It's a great organization http://www.girlsrun.org

I held off for my 2nd potty break because I didn't want to miss Robert because this was his first half marathon, and he's worked really hard to get here. I saw him coming up the hill and abandoned by post (left the stop sign up for the side street traffic) and ran down the hill to him. I got to run part of the way up the hill with him, and the best part was that Molly was on the phone with me at the time so she got to "run with us".

Next, I saw Todd. He was of course, barefoot and not even out of breath. He stopped to say hi and gave me a big sweaty hug. He thought it was funny that I had on a plastic orange vest so that I was "protected" and then the medics rode by and yelled, "Hey, no molesting the race officials!"

Finally, I was able to get a potty break and finally one of the radio guys came by on his bike. He seemed to think that the potties closer to town were closer, so I headed that way, thinking that they were just on the other side of the bridge. NO... They were ALL THE WAY DOWN Republic (if you have never been to Seattle, think of the "Streets of San Francisco") OMG!!! I thought I was going to DIE riding back up that steep hill, even in the lowest gear. My lungs and legs were burning. I need to get back on my bike. My bike muscles aren't in shape.

I stayed there until 3:00 PM, when the opened the street back up and picked up the cones.

Short Report:

NEVER (didn’t my Seattle Half Marathon report last November start this way?) EVER, should Molly and I be allowed in the same house with more than one bottle of cheap champagne the night before a race. Of course, it didn’t matter much to her (or Michelle another partner in crime who’s not a runner) as she had a work related meeting today and couldn’t drive up with us. I wasn’t queasy or headachy, but wasn’t “quite right” either… I left about one hour and one glass of cheap champagne too late last night. Such is life…

We came, we ran in kilts (you had to wear a kilt or kilt like garment to run the race), we persevered through less than optimal hydration, humidity, side stitches and cranky IT bands to end a not quite spectacular run with a spectacular sprint to the finish and then had a nice lunch at a local brew pub.

Photos available at http://www.wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/photo.html

Long Report:

After a night giggling with Molly and Michelle, I headed home to not get enough sleep because of noisy neighbors, barking dogs and people squealing their tires in the wee hours of the morning. This is the 2nd night in a row that I’ve been sleep deprived; that on top of the champagne was not the best combination.

I made a point of hydrating as much as I could last night and this morning to make up for my cheap champagne consumption, which did nothing but make me have to pee a lot.

Michealene and Rick picked me up at the bus station parking and we headed up to Seattle (well, Ballard actually) for the race.

I’ve been looking forward to this race since last year, when I couldn’t do it because I had to work. This year, Robert couldn’t do it because he’s off having fun on some Norse adventure.

Check in was easy and there was good Celtic music being piped through the speakers. We wandered around the booths at the Celtic Festival and then did our warm up through the Fremont Farmer’s market (at least I think it was Fremont, it’s a weird neighborhood (s). We found lots of great stores that we want to go back to: a cool guitar shop, a 2nd hand outdoor gear store and lots of other neat places. Not to mention all the great flowers, seafood, and organic fruit and vegetables available at the Farmer’s Market.

The race directors encouraged people to wear their own kilts or make them (creativity encouraged) there were definitely some tartan towel, sheets and pillow cases being worn. Some of the funnier ones were men that obviously borrowed their wives or girlfriend’s skirts. There were a lot of “Utili-Kilts” and even some camo kilts being worn. I’m still trying to figure out however, where a red orange and yellow camouflage kilt would blend in. My personal award for best fashion statement was from a guy I stood in line next to at the port-a-potties. I forgot his name, so he will be dubbed “Mr. Fremont” (for those not the Pacific Northwest) that’s one of our more “individualistic” and “eclectic” “hippy” neighborhoods. He wore a Utili-Kilt (quite popular up here actually) with a bright tie dyed shirt with a smiley face on it. The long hair and ear ring completed the look  The “scariest thing” I saw was an older, gentleman who shall we say, might not be described and toned, tanned or firm adjusting his kilt. He flat opened it up, revealing a speedo and beer belly underneath. I can tell you that I did NOT need to see that.

There was a kid’s dash first. They were so incredibly cute in their kilts (and kilt like garments) as they ran down the street, around a bag piper and back to the finish.

After the kid’s dash, the runners were required to follow the pipe band in a procession to the stage and then around to the starting area. I can’t believe that band was made up mostly of college kids, they were great. Pipers and flag bearers marked the start.

I realized that with the amount of hydration I had attempted that 3 trips to the port-a-potties weren’t enough and that I might not make it 3.1 miles without having to stop and pee. Michealene immediately got a side stitch and I was dealing with a mild case of tree pollen allergy tightness and wheezing (I think I need to start carrying a primatine asthma inhaler when I race during pollen season). We were quite the pair, but we persevered. My right knee was not happy because my IT bands were acting up, but I’d done a good warm up and wasn’t worried about hurting myself.

The course was flat and fast (the only flat course in the Pacific Northwest I believe) and part of it ran through the Burke-Gillman trail. When we rounded the first corner, these two guys on bicycles were shocked to see a couple hundred or so men and women running down the road in kilts. They asked the course marshals what was going on and still shook their heads at the explanation. I can only imagine what it looked like to them to have us all screaming around the corner like a bunch of wild Scots from the movie Braveheart. The added bonus for the women was getting to run behind fit men in kilts. The scenery was excellent ;)

It was a lot more humid that we had anticipated and we were feeling pretty red in the face during that last mile. I should not have worn a long sleeve shirt (moisture wicking does not mean cool) Since we weren’t in the best of condition, we just wanted to break the 30 minute mark for the 5K.

When we saw the finish line and checked our time I knew that we had to really push to get across in under 30 minutes. I also saw a guy just ahead of me and just didn’t feel like that’s where I wanted him. I kicked out into a hard sprint, not certain I could catch him, more or less pass him, but I got a good length or two ahead of him. Michealene did expect it and was wondering what in the heck I was doing, so she kicked it in as well and also passed the guy. The picture is great, she is in perfect form from her High School Cross Country running days. We slid in at 29:58:03. I was 4th in my age group.

We had the obligatory water, bananas and “bagel like objects” watched some dancers, listened to some music and then went over to Hale’s Brew Pub for lunch and a brew. Their “Troll Porter” is excellent (for those that don’t know about the “Fremont Troll” just do a web search on it)

Now I need to finish posting the race report, take a shower and nap and get ready to go to work for a while tonight…

Short Report: I finally broke my record of straight “personal worst” this year. I did not PR, but I shaved time off my last 10 mile race. It was unseasonably warm and the race didn’t start until 11:00 AM. I came, I ran, I almost puked from the heat (I was so delirious, that I actually took a wrong turn in the park and got lost in the campground just before the finish) and I won my 4th “shiny thing” for the year for coming in 2nd in the 10 miler. I just LOVE shiny things!!!

Long Report: Robert came and picked me up at 9:00 AM. Luckily after I had only 4 hours sleep on Friday night and a bunch of physical activity the next day, I managed to get a solid 8 hours in last night (with an extra hour of just lounging in bed this morning)

We arrived at Millersylvania State Park with plenty of time to socialize, stretch, warm up and even do some volunteer work for the race director (it was the least I could do since he let me write him a bad [postdated] check so that I could run the race) I actually held up the race start by one minute (not uncommon there) so that a kid who I registered at the last minute run to the bathroom before the start. The kid did pretty darn good in the half considering he had no warm-up. I think he came in 3rd or 4th.

We knew it was going to be unseasonably HOT and that I’d been training in COLD weather. Heck the half marathon in Portland last week never got above the mid 40s. I drank a nalegene bottle of water with two packets of emergen-c (vitamins and electrolytes) on the way down there, knowing that it was going to be hot.

I had eaten, drank and had my bodily functions working on a perfect schedule. I did my warm up run and felt light, loose and springy. It’s the best I’ve felt pre-race all year. I knew I needed to be careful because of the heat though. I had woken up with a terrible sinus headache from allergies to tree pollen (which is still in the high range) but didn’t dare take an anti-histamine lest I fall asleep on the race course. I took one Sudafed and a couple of ibuprofen as soon as I work up, which helped the headache, but did nothing for the wheezing. (I’m going to have to do something about my allergies if I’m going to keep living here) Robert gave me a hit off of his asthma inhaler, which helped quite a bit.

It was brutal almost immediately. At mid-day the trees don’t shade the black asphalt road, and the radiant heat coming off a black surface can radiate 180 degree Fahrenheit, which is darn hot, although I doubt it got much above 100 today. (which is plenty in a humid place like the Northwest)

This course (rolling hills) never ceases to amaze me. It’s out and back and looks like it’s ALL uphill on the way out. You turn around and it looks and feels like it’s all uphill on the way back as well. I drank Gatorade at the 1st 3 aid stations to keep my electrolytes up and then switched to water for the last two so that I could drink a little bit then pour the rest over my head. I didn’t even do that in Arizona.

I got to the 10 K point and realized that I had been running a 10K pace, which is faster then I should have been going. I had nearly 4 miles to go in the heat of the day. I wouldn’t be keeping that pace long. By mile 8 the heat was getting to me and I had to slow down. By mile 9 I was dizzy. I got back into the park and even though I’ve been racing there for a year and a half, I got lost (I can’t eat or take gels when it’s that hot because I get queasy) I looked up and realized that I had taken the campground loop, not the road to kitchen #3, which cost me two minutes.

I got to the finish in 1:48:37 and somehow managed not to puke although I really wanted to.

It was not by best 10 mile time, but not my worst either. To be quite honest, I’m quite proud of myself for being able to run that long, in that kind of heat, without stopping walking or barfing 

The rest of the crazy day will be in my LJ within the next half hour. Then I owe a couple of friends email, then I’m off to bed.

It was a good day.

I came, I hung out and ran with the Portland Penguins, reconnected with an old friend, ran my slowest ever half marathon time and had a BLAST !!! (and most important, finished uninjured)

I’ll spare the details of the entire weekend starting on Friday, but they will appear in my Live Journal for those that are interested/bored/easily amused. I will say that if this Mercury Retrograde really is about reconnecting with old friends, bring on the next one !!! (heck, there’s still plenty of this one to enjoy)

Since Molly couldn’t run, I drove down and stayed with my friend Carl (who is an elite runner) from Colorado (well, we were both from Colorado when we knew each other 7 years ago, now we both live here)

Anyway… We went on a great trail run, had dinner with the Portland Penguins at Karen M.'s house (and called the rest of the Hippie Chick crew on the phone) then headed out for a beer in what seems to be the only non-smoking bar in Portland (thank goodness for the smoking ban in Pierce County WA)

We stayed up way to late catching up and between talking until 2:00 AM and the loud drunks that decided to party in the parking lot behind his apartment complex, I didn’t get to sleep until well after 3:00 AM; which isn’t really a good thing when you’re getting up at 5:00 AM for a 7:00 AM race start.

I down know how I did it, but I managed to get up at 5:00, get out on time and get to the race start. I called Karen and Reg and they talked me through to the actual start area (wasn’t clear on the postcard) with time to spare, where I met up with “Team Karen” and Michael. Reg and Phyllis were course support.

Team Karen was on fire. I knew better than to try for anything other than “finish uninjured” After the kidney infection, flu and other assorted things that kept me off training, I was pushing my luck trying this. I hadn’t done a run longer than 5 miles since the 10 mile Leap Year Race on February 29^th. I did a 10 miler last weekend and felt OK so I decided to try it.

I’ve never been one that can do the “run walk/Galloway” program. It’s just too difficult for me to stop and start like that and I use different muscles to walk than run. It’s more comfortable for me to run slowly up a hill than walk it. I set a pace (in this case, really slow) and stick with it for as long as it takes. It really is a “zen” thing for me. That (my steady pace) is probably why I end up with so many “breathers” and “spitters” pacing me in the Olympia races (like drafting off my frame does any good)

I ran the first mile too fast and just told everyone else to not worry about me. Michael “felt bad” about leaving me behind, but it wasn’t my day to be the fast one and I was fine with that. I caught up with him at mile 9 anyway.

Of course what would a race be without some “mishaps”. I forgot to get my soy mocha to warm up the next morning, then Carl’s French press got broken (he went and got a new on in the middle of the night), Reg had to save me from driving around the wrong part of Portland, my ankle bracelet broke on the course (I did manage to salvage the beads and stash them in my fanny pack), and when I took my first gel out at mile 5, the other must have hit the ground. I almost “bonked” at mile 10. All in all, not bad. I’ve had worse.

Reg, Lisa and Phyllis were waiting for us a mile 5 cheering and taking pictures. I will have to say that the volunteers and spectators on this course are AWESOME. We were cheered on enthusiastically the entire way.

The Half Marathon runs though the same hideous, ugly, industrial section of Portland that part of the full does. I was not impressed. I have to laugh when people talk about the “Aroma of Tacoma” (which was, for the most part taken care of with the installation of secondary treatment at the pulp mill) when so much of the Portland waterfront smells like sewage. I can’t imagine this course is good for tourism.

I kept my slow pace, didn’t stop, didn’t walk, managed to have my bodily functions on the correctly schedule, thus avoiding port a potty breaks and finished pretty much in between “Team Karen” and Michael at my slowest ever half marathon time of 2:47:02

We got our medals, roses and took pictures. I was really COLD and went back for a LONG, hot shower and a nap under lots of comforters, so I didn’t stay long after that.

We came, we ran in costume, I lost one of my antennae, we drank Guinness, we listened to Irish music and I managed not to injure myself in my old worn out shoes.

Robert and I drove to Seattle this morning to “run” the St. Patty’s Day Dash (although “running” is a subjective term on the narrow streets of downtown Seattle with 13,000 other people. We both finished relatively unscathed.

The starting line was hilarious. We got there in plenty of time to warm up, stretch and check out all the crazy costumes. They were playing a nice jig on the PA system so several of us in the Green (first) was started dancing a jib at the start line to keep warm. Everyone though my faery costume was hilarious and there were a lot of jokes about “No fair, you have wings to help.”

No matter how many races I run in Seattle, I’ll never get used to that stupid tunnel. All the air gets sucked out if it and since it curves, it seems like you’ll never see daylight again. All of a sudden I heard this plastic/ceramic “clink” and realized that one of the antennae fell off my “deely-boppers”. I didn’t even dare look back, lest I get trampled by the 12,000 + runners behind me. I felt my head (which was now unbalanced), and knew that I was “injured”.

Once I got on the viaduct and had some fresh air, I felt better. A woman behind me got tripped and fell. Several people stopped to help her, so I kept going rather than creating a bigger traffic jam. This one jerky guy decided to squeeze between me and a guy next to me instead of just going around where there was plenty of room. He hooked my ankle with his foot (I have no idea why I didn’t go down) and elbowed the guy next to me. I thought that there was going to be a fight. What a jerk. The winners had already crossed the finish line (a mile yet to go) it’s not like he was competitive even for an age group award.

I crossed the finish line two minutes slower than last year, which is fine. I just couldn’t risk pushing myself after being off with the flu and having worn out shoes on concrete. I got my water, bagels and other goodies, then went back and got a picture of Robert crossing the finish line.

Afterwards we met a friend at T.S. McHugh's Irish Pub for Guinness and then went to the Seattle Center to listen to Irish music. Some women staffing a booth that sells bodhrans didn't know how to play them and when I stepped up to play one they pulled me into the booth to demonstrate for the customers and television cameras.

After 3 solid days of volunteering at Wintergrass (there is no sleep with
jamming going on 24/7 and working late) running up and down 5 flights of stairs
all day and night, walking the hills of Tacoma all day, my body was in no shape
to run a 10 MILE race.

Between exhaustion, sore legs, recently recovering from the flu and hardly
running at all since recovering from the RNR AZ marathon, I should not have
tried a 10 MILE race.

Well, I did. I ran my worst time ever of 1:57:04 (although I am somewhat amazed
that I was able to run 10 miles at all, even slowly) but since no one fast
showed up in the "broken down old lady" category I still took 1st place in my
division and got a medal. I just LOVE shiny things. This was actually, my 3rd
race of 2004 counting the marathon and my THIRD shiny thing (marathon finisher
medal, 2nd place division award for the valentine 5K, and 1st place division
award for the leap year run).

Molly ran the 10 mile as well and she really kicked butt, she came in 1st in her
division as well. Robert ran the 5K and came in 3rd in his division AND got his
first battle wound an impressively skinned knee after a spectacular face plant
finish in the mud and Andy did the 10K and came in 3rd in his division as well.
Erin, Molly's daughter walked the 10K and also got a shiny thing.

After the race, we had champagne and pretzels at Molly's house and then I went
home rested a bit, got cleaned up and gave a water quality presentation to a
local group. I think there was mold in the church where I gave the
presentation, because I got a horrible sinus headache that went migraine on me
and put me down for the rest of the evening. <sigh>

What a weekend!!! I had to come back to work to rest up.

Pictures of the race and Wintergrass are available on my website.

I am SO tired.

I thought I was over the bronchitis (which might actually be a mild case of the flu) and went and ran the Valentine’s Day 5K with Molly and Andy.

I came, I ran, I felt weak, but managed to pull off a 2^nd place division win, a couple of seconds behind the winner, even though I ran out of gas at the end. It was Andy’s first race, which he walked the first part of and ran the 2^nd half. He got 3^rd in his division. Molly ran the 10K and got 1^st or 2^nd in her division.

We all got shiny things J The medals are really cool ! Photos of course are available on my web page.

Molly and I ended up volunteering after our race was over because they were short handed, and ended up in the rain, standing in puddles, pulling tags and timing the half and full marathon for several hours. That did NOT help the bronchitis/flu and the next day (Sunday), I was down with a fever again. Today, (Monday) I feel better and am going to take good care of myself.

We met at Molly’s and carpooled down to Olympia for the race. I had been fighting this bronchitis/flu bug for a couple of weeks, but since I’d had several days with no fever or ill effects, and since I’d pulled off a 6.2 mile run on Wednesday, I thought I was OK to do this. Boy was I wrong.

It was raining steadily throughout the race, which takes place of very slight rolling hills, which is a LOT better than last year when it wasn’t raining but was 24 degrees at the race start. I felt pretty good going out and didn’t push it since I had just passed recovery phase from the Rock and Roll Arizona Marathon and had been sick. I tried to keep it to a 10 min mile pace. This was about getting back into it safely.

Several race distances start at the same time and have different turn a rounds, so I figured out how many runners were in the 5K (and looked to be about my age) once I hit the turn around. I was definitely in the front of the pack and was the 3^rd woman overall and was pretty sure that I was first in my division.

I could hear a woman catch up with me and pace me. After a while we started talking. Her name was Darcy and it was her 2^nd race. I know her husband who does a lot of the races down there. She and I ran in to the park together. Just before we hit the park I started feeling “wheezy”; I tried to cough, but nothing came out or moved and I realized that I was going to have to back off. There I was, neck and neck with the winner, at the point where I normally give a kick and I just didn’t have it.

Part of me really wanted to kick it and at least give her a good run. The other part of me said, “Stupid, you’re sick; you’re upright and getting a medal, just finish”. Yet another part of me said, “You don’t have to win every time you come down here. Darcy’s a nice person, it’s her turn.” So me and all the voices in my head backed off, congratulated Darcy and watched her cross the finish line a couple seconds ahead. She was thrilled, I was upright, we both had “shiny things”, so it’s all good.

They were short volunteers this time and Bob (the race director) asked us to stay and help out. In exchange, Molly and I get to run the Leap Year Run for free later this month. If I can stay healthy, we’ll both do the 10 miler.

Getting on a plane for a 3 ½ hour flight immediately after running a marathon can take a person from “Hey I actually feel better than in my previous two marathons” to “My legs have never been this tight in my life.”

I did not have any intestinal issues on the course (since Lauri went into detail about my pre race issues, I’ll share her intestinal race issues later in the report, HA!), nor was I sick or injured. I did realize however, that I should have (didn’t have the money) bought new shoes. My hips and knees told me that two marathons on one pair of shoes was too much.

Having been a desert dweller (Moab UT) I re-adapt to heat and low humidity really well (not so when I come back to the cold wet Northwest, I’m freezing). In any event, 79 degrees in pretty warm by anyone’s standards when running a marathon on black asphalt with no shade, especially when you’ve been running 29 degree weather.

We both had to “flash” to get into the parking area and the race corral (you’ll have to read the long report for details)

We took it easy, enjoyed the scenery and the bands (we were dancing in the street, even up to mile 25)

We crossed the line after running for 5:57:12, (we stopped the watch for potty breaks)

We had 1/3 of our Hood to Coast Relay team (Pat, Tom, Kathy and I) as well as Lauri, Robert, Maureen and her mom at a great dinner at Buca De Beppo’s on Friday Night and had a great “penguin encounter” with “50 of our closest friends” at the Twin Palms on Saturday Night.

Laurie picked me up at the airport at 3:00 PM on Friday and we headed out to check out the course. She showed me their “hill” (granted it is long and probably is a hill to people that live in Phoenix). I tried not to snicker (unsuccessfully).

We headed over to the Twin Palms and found a bunch of penguins in the parking lot. Some we knew, some we met for the first time. We took Robert with us so that he could go to the dinner at Buca’s.

Pat, Tom and Kathy flew in from Eugene a little later than I did, and they met us at the restaurant. We had 1/3 of our Hood to Coast Relay team there. We were able to keep Pat out of the men’s room this time (see Seattle Marathon 2002 report for details on that one)

After dinner we were all really tired from our flights and general stress/taper madness induced lack of sleep and set up a “slumber party” for the girls in Lauri’s living room.

We were up bright and early to get in and out of the expo before it got too crowded. We met Karen B there and I found my new “gels”. I tried a sample of the “Crank” Gels and they were much more liquid and easier to get down than GU. They also had electrolytes and NO caffeine. It also only took 3 packets to fill up my GU flask rather than 5 packets of GU or Hammer Gel ($3 versus $5) I read the ingredient list and since there was nothing in them that I hadn’t trained with, decided to go with them for the race (I trained with 4 different gel types, so I wasn’t worried about having problems)

We had a GREAT lunch at PF Chang’s, the race sponsor, who sent us all $10, no strings attached gift cards. I got a seshzuan shrimp lunch and appetizers for only $4 which included tax and tip. We had enough leftovers for an entire meal for the 5 of us.

We showed the race course to Tom, Pat and Kathy. It was especially important to show it to Tom since he intended to use this race as a Boston Qualifier. He, Kathy and I sat in the car giggling when Lauri showed him the “hill”.

After fabulous massages, we went back to Lauri’s place, showered and headed out to the Twin Palms for the “encounter”. I think we had a good 50 people show up. It was so great to see old friends and to put faces to names. Harvey was sorely missed as were others that couldn’t make it. It was great to finally meet Marathon John, Mary D., MJ, Harriet and so many others. The first people that I knew that I ran into were Moose and Geri (in the bar), and then Karen G, Robert, Karen B. and others. When we got into the room it was wall to wall penguins. Lizzy did a GREAT job organizing. Thanks !!!

We bailed out pretty early as we were all tired, were getting up early and wanted to get all of our shopping (bagels, water, powerade, a soy mocha for me to heat up in the morning, etc…) done and race day stuff ready since we were getting up at 4:15 AM (3:15 AM my time UGH!!!)

4:15 came early, but since we had everything taken care of the night before, the morning went smoothly. We were out the door at 5:00 AM as planned. We had to drive to the finish in Tempe and take shuttles to the start.

Karen B. had advised us that it might be a zoo in the morning and to get there early if we wanted parking. We didn’t want to stand in the start corrals for hours on end, so we were all set up to get there early and sit in the cars, eating, drinking and getting ready before we hopped on the shuttle.

We had to show our bibs to get into the parking area, and since we were wearing throw away sweats over our race clothes, had to “flash” our singlets/numbers (we made a really big deal out of it) the parking attendants. They laughed.

We walked over to the port-a-potties and I was so excited that I was actually able to move my bowels at 5:30 AM (normally, no matter what I do they won’t budge before 7:00 AM). When and how much to eat and drink is a science and I’ve had some bad marathon experiences. Not this time; there would be no 20 minute time loss within the 1^st 2 miles (Portland), nor having to stop at every port-a-potty on the entire course (Seattle). We ran into Robert and Karen B. and I proudly announced by “accomplishment” (hey we ALL know that on race morning, it’s “all about the poop”) Pat was especially happy for me ;)

When we got back to the parking area, we found that the huge line of busses had left for the 1^st (of many) shuttle runs and not returned. The line was about a half a mile long and growing; traffic was in gridlock so that the busses couldn’t move. I don’t think that the race organizers could have anticipated the traffic snarl (it was the first year of running the race in Arizona).

We got in line and managed to get on the 3^rd bus on the 2^nd set of shuttles. The line had grown, people were still trying to get to the area to park and we knew that they would either delay the start, let people start later and keep the course open longer, or risk the race not being a “success”.

About halfway to the start, I realized that the “job wasn’t done” and that I had a potential “desperate” situation in the works. It’s an interesting experience to relax certain body parts and construct others. When the bus was almost to the start and was going to wait until the other busses in front of him unloaded so that he could drop us off closer to the stop, (15 minutes prior to start time which is normally NOT enough time to get through the port-a-potty line) we all said, “NO!!! let us off here” I could see the beautiful, blessed port-a-potties, for which I made a cautious, desperate sprint. Lauri and I (and Tom) all made it though the port-a-potty lines and to our corrals in time for the 7:45 start. We had to “flash” again to get into the corral. We made a big deal out of it and the Phoenix PD guys that were watching the intersection laughed really hard.

The race organizers wisely decided to delay the start for half an hour. It was warmer than it had been the previous mornings and I shed my sweat pants early on and the sweat shirt as soon as we started running.

The first few miles were very pleasant. It was cool and slightly overcast. We (Lauri and I) had both hydrated (water and sports drink) properly so we had no worries about the heat later in the afternoon. We drank at each water stop (alternating water and powerade) and gelled on a regular basis. We enjoyed the bands and talking to others on the course.

The race was being broadcast on Fox, both locally and on Fox sports nationally, so Laurie’s family and the folks at the massage clinic told us to get in front of every camera we saw. We’d keep our eye out and yell, “CAMERA on your left!!!”and run over there are wave like idiots as we went by. We did the same thing with the event photography, only we straightened up, smiled and “ran pretty” for the event photographers. I’m especially excited to see the ones from Papago Park with the redrocks in the background.

Since it was her first marathon and I had been off training for so long, we took it easy, walked through the water stations and enjoyed the experience. It was really funny, we were both worried about it being a good experience for the other (her first, my 3^rd, but hopefully my first “good” marathon experience). We took turns “holding each other back to pace” (braids are very useful) and keeping each other on track. We were both worried about holding the other back, but it really was a 50/50 proposition. We also prodded each other when necessary. We had agreed that if one of us started to bonk, the other would “drag your sorry ass across the finish line” by the braid if necessary. We were both going to finish and we were going to do it together. I have never run a marathon with a buddy before. I’m glad it was Lauri.

Just before mile 10, I looked over at another pair of women about our age. One of them looked at the other and said, “I thought this wasn’t going be about time”, the other snarked back, “well YOU made it about time.” After that, I couldn’t hear what they were saying (it wasn’t nice), but I knew it was going to be LONG marathon for the two of them, which is really sad. I was really glad to be with Lauri. We were concerned about it being a good experience for the other and although we teased each other mercilessly, never spoke a harsh or frustrated word (and were never even tempted to). We truly enjoyed each other’s company and were both perfectly willing to compromise our experience to make it good for each other.

Since Lauri already shared my “desperately need to poop experience” (and emergency plan) on the bus, I’m going to share hers (for those not on one of the penguin lists, this is bonus TMI material) Lauri wasn’t able to “get things moving” in the morning, and had to make not one but THREE poop stops (attempts really). Face it, the body wants to shut down, but the jostling makes things want to move, so you always feel like you have to go, but can’t quite “complete the task” and end up moving less than you anticipate/want to. Since she shared my comment about using my throw away sweats as a port-a-potty, I’ll share our plan for her to hide in the bushes, while I went to wash out her shorts if she didn’t make it to the next port-a-potty. (Friends will do that sort of thing for each other; of course, good friend will also tell the story)

We had to move out in the first half to make sure that we made cut off. With the late start, we weren’t certain when the cut off would be or if the time started at the gun or after the last person crossed the start (or how serious the Phoenix PD would be about getting their streets back) and we weren’t about to miss out on finishing the full. We made it in plenty of time and because of the heat and hard surfaces started taking regular short walk breaks after that.

We cruised through the halfway point, and started being more concerned about the heat and not bonking. Even when our knees and hips started acting up, we were still able to dance (and sing loudly and badly) in the middle of the street at each bandstand. It’s never a good idea to yell “Shake you funky butt” to me from a stage. I’ll do it.

It was really hot (79 degrees, clouds gone, black asphalt radiating 180 degrees of solar heat) for the last 9 miles or so, but we ran conservatively and didn’t injure our IT bands or succumb to the heat. Rumor has it that a LOT of people switched from the full to the half when they saw the forecast. For me, I was running in weather that was 50 degrees warmer than I was used to.

We did our best to make even the hot/sore knee/sore hip part of the race enjoyable and crossed the finish line together, hand in hand arms held high in triumph. I was really proud to have been part of Lauri’s first marathon. Even when I offered her chances to have her picture taken alone, she wanted to share the experience and photos with me. I feel honored to have run with her and to have her as a friend.

We rushed back to her house. I took a 5 minute shower, packed my bags and was off to the airport. I felt really GOOD after the marathon and was walking (even down stairs) well.

The Phoenix airport was filled with other marathoners who had to get out that night as well. The most commonly uttered phrase was, “Hey, you’re walking pretty good.” There was a huge sense of camaraderie in the airport and on the planes. Sadly enough, I’m guessing that many of those folks learned the hard way, not to fly (at least coach) immediately after a race. By the time I got to Seattle, I was stiff, sore, and really hurting.

The funny thing at the airport was that the medals were SO heavy that they set off the alarms in the baggage screening as “possible weapons”. It took them a while to figure it out, but by the time I came through security at 5:10 PM, they had figure out that a piece of metal, shaped like the state of Arizona (full) or a Saguaro cactus (half) carried by someone sunburned, tired, walking funny and wearing a marathon shirt was not a weapon.

I’m taking a break and running shorter races until the Royal Victoria (BC) Marathon in October.

I will be in ARIZONA next week !!! WAHOO There will NOT be snow and ice
on that course.

Short Report:

The good news is. It didn't rain this year.

I had ONE goal for this race. Not to land on my butt (or head, or face,
or elbow, or back...)

The roads were covered with ice. The sides of the roads were covered in
melted/refrozen snow.

People were slipping and sliding all over, but thankfully, no one got
hurt (a few bumps, bruises and wounded egos)

Our times were not spectacular because we had to gingerly walk in
strategic places, but we stayed upright.

We came in at 50:37, which I think was pretty good for conditions. We
were within 1 minute or less of everyone else in our age groups. Had I
felt safe in kicking out my usual sprint around the unusually icy and
frozen track I might have even placed.

Long Report:

Molly and I headed over to Steilacoom (a small town in the Tacoma area)
for the annual resolution run. We love this tradition as it's a great
way to start the year.

While most of the population was likely nursing hangovers, we were with
a crowd of happy, healthy people who wanted to do something to celebrate
the new year other than get drunk (we were quite conservative in our
champagne consumption last night, even more so than before the Seattle
Half Marathon)

The track where we start is one of those spongy rubbery things that
looks like asphalt but isn't. Although these tracks are great to run on,
they hold ice and snow and are treacherous when frozen.

We normally do a 3/4 around the track to start and finish. Because of
conditions, they set up cones and we started in the grass on the infield
so that no one would get hurt. This was a good call on the part of the
race directors from the Ft. Steilacoom Running Club. It was difficult
enough just getting across the track to exit the stadium. Several
people slipped.

The main roads weren't too bad if we stayed where the sand trucks had
been. The side roads were very icy and quite difficult. I only had two
really bad slips, but managed to recover. You knew when you were coming
up on a bad part because you'd hear other runner's feet skidding and "Oh
Crap!" so you could slow down.

The worst part was at the turn around. It was on the crest of a steep
hill (see previous race reports explaining that we have NO flat ground
here) We had to get on the side of the road on the frozen snow, then
very gingerly walk across the road (most people still slipped) and then
walk down the frozen snow on the other side. Several of us tried to
stay on the frozen snow, but when we came to driveways, it was worse
than being in the street.

The really cool thing about it was that no one approached that turn
around without having been warned about it by no less than 10 people.
The course marshals not only directed traffic, but warned us where the
icy patches were.

The track (black draws heat with even a little sunlight) was starting to
thaw, but we still stayed on the grass as much as we could and were very
careful going through the chute. Sprinting at the finish was NOT an option.

I had stopped to tie my shoe and I didn't catch back up to Molly and the
rest of my "pack" until close to the end. We were side by side heading
to the chute. I looked over at her, grinned and said, "Age before
beauty" and the Witch slowed down and let me finish one second ahead of
her. (I WILL get even)

We enjoyed chili, water and hot cocoa and then headed back to Molly's
house for brunch, including mimosas.

It's snowing again. What a great treat for the New Year!!! (well it's a treat for me, I can walk or snowshoe to work.

03/15/03 Are You Nuts Trail Run 10K, Tacoma WA 1:06:25 (10th in Masters Division)

08/22 - 08/23 /03 Hood to Coast Relay, OR 29:08:00 (Yes, that's almost 30 hours)

08/24/03 Gateway to the Pacific Half Marathon, Elma WA 2:42:12 (1st in my division, go figure)

11/22/03 Thanksgiving Dash 10 MILER, Olympia WA, 1:41:03 (2nd in the women's division 1st in age group)

11/27/03 Turkey Trot, Thanksgiving Day 5K, Federal Way WA (Hills from Hell!!!) 29:38

11/30/03 Seattle Half Marathon, Seattle WA (Cold, Concrete and Hills from Hell !!!) 2:27:19

*** note, I am sending this race report to those who normally don’t get them because it was such an important experience for so many people.

I am sitting here with tears in my eyes after completing this “running buddy” cycle with Girls on the Run http://www.girlsontherun.org/ If you (women as mentors) can run with a girl (2 times in a 12 week cycle is all that is required), give financial support, technical expertise (fundraising, board member, office staff, etc…) coaching (twice a week commitment) assistant coaching (once a week commitment) or race day support, please consider it. This program makes a HUGE difference in the lives of these girls and their families.

I showed up at the Candy Cane Dash 5K in Shoreline WA to do my “buddy job” and accompany Natalia (a really awesome 9 year old) in her first 5K race and the culmination of 12 weeks of hard work on her part all the while learning invaluable life skills that will enable her to stand up to bullies, avoid eating disorders, learn to work as part of a team, say no to drugs, alcohol and other unhealthy life choices and enter her adolescent/teen years with self esteem, confidence and good health.

These girls are SO amazing. I’ve watched them over the last several weeks (not as often as I’d like because I just can’t commit to full time coaching in Seattle twice a week right now) become confident amazing young women. I am going to miss the hell out of them.

All but two girls, who were terribly ill (bad flu epidemic here) showed up to race. One of them, showed up sick to cheer on her friends.

Natalia’s uncle and Mom showed up, cameras in hand, wearing ear to ear proud smiles. Natalie’s poor uncle nearly got trampled at the start taking pictures. He was so excited to find that she had entered the program. He began running about a year ago with the “Team in Training” program and ran the San Diego Marathon last summer. He already has plans for the two of them to run another 5K together next weekend. I think she has a long running career ahead of her.

This was a great local race. Natalie and several of the other girls used to be “jack rabbits” and run like heck at the start and then run out of steam. Ever since I demonstrated pace during a long run, she and several others have taken it to heart and did awesome in their practice 5K a few weeks ago.

I let Natalie set the pace. After all, she was there to make sure that I didn’t get lost, trampled or go out too fast ;)

The course was pretty cool. It started and ended at Shoreline Stadium, ran around the park, on trails and even some cross country sections. There were a few rolling hills (well Pat would call them hills) but otherwise was a flat, fast course.

She took a one to two minute walk break at roughly miles 1, 2 and 3 (smart young lady) but otherwise kept up a darn impressive pace.

She and the other girls remembered about course courtesy, saying “on your left” or “on your right” if passing, moving over if someone is passing you, and saying “good job” to anyone you are passing and to cheer on their teammates. They also remembered how to straighten up and smile for cameras and to do the “Prom Queen Wave” (elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist) for spectators. (gee who could have taught them that?)

Natalia did an awesome kick at the finish and made it in just under 40 minutes. The girls all got medals. (and we all know how cool “shiny things” are)

Hopefully, Natalia’s uncle will remember to send me copies of the pictures, and I can post them.

Molly and I should not be allowed to spend the night in the same house with more than one bottle of cheap champagne on hand.

Got up at 0:dark:30 and were on the road to Seattle. Robert and May met us there to cheer us on and take pictures.

The shirts this year are pumpkin orange. I almost gagged when I saw them at the expo yesterday.

It was cold and actually got colder as the morning progressed and the clouds went away.

I am so glad that I now do the half in Seattle rather than the full. The amount of concrete is just too darn much. My knees are killing me and I only have 100 miles on these shoes.

I did not expect to do well given my being off training for 6 weeks after almost keeling over in the Portland Marathon due to running it with a UTI, and my champagne consumption last night (probably not enough to affect a "normal" person, but plenty for a "one beer wonder" like myself) and the general difficulty of the course (also the fact that this is a training run for RNR Arizona.

I projected my finish at 2:45 - 3:00 because of the hills, crowds (can't really run for the first couple of miles) and being off training.

I came in (slightly sore, but uninjured) at 2:27:19. That's 18 minutes faster than my "fast" and 33 minutes faster than my "slow" projected times.

I spent the night at Molly's house last night since we had to get up at 5:00AM and immediately get on the road. We are sometimes very "bad" girls when we are together and at this time of year, really enjoy cheap champagne (Cook's is currently on sale at Fred Meyer's for $3.99 a bottle). Instead of splitting one bottle, we killed a partial bottle (about 1/3 full, if that) she had and then opened up a new one. Did we stop there? NO. She (yes, I'm blaming HER) opened up a new one, which we did NOT finish. I drank two 16 oz glasses of water, took 4 Advil and went to bed. Let me tell you, there is no cottonmouth in the world, quite like cheap champagne cottonmouth. Bleck!

We went to the expo yesterday, saw Todd and Lulu and got really ugly orange shirts (at least they're tech fabric) They are pumpkin orange. I mean what's the deal? Yellow for Portland, Olive Green for the Turkey Trot and now this? Bleck! Actually, when I saw them outside (florescent lighting does nothing for the color) on runners who were wearing black tights/hats/vests, they didn't look that hideous.

I knew that no place would be open and serving Soy Mochas at 5:00 AM on a Sunday, so I went to the espresso stand last night and got one, put it in the fridge and nuked it this morning. We both had one egg, an English muffin, more water and hit the road.

The drive was uneventful for the most part and we got good parking at the Seattle Center. It seemed to be much colder up there than it was just 30 miles South.

The only complaint I have about the Seattle Marathon (other than the brutal course) is the serious shortage of port-a-potties. The lines were over 30 minutes long at the start, people were cutting in line and getting pissy with each other and it wasn't fun. We got out of the port-a-potties (no thanks to the large numbers of rude people who cut in line; I wouldn't want their karma) 30 seconds before the gun went off. It's actually hard to tell when a race in Seattle starts because you shuffle slowly to the mats, cross the mats, shuffle slowly for a while, then move on to a very slow jog and jockey for position for the next couple of miles. The streets may be narrow and crowded, but it really is a cool city. There were about 4,800 of us running the half (10,000 total for all runs/walks) I lost Molly almost immediately after the start. She had a "hair crisis" and needed to have a race official help her braid her hair (which is long enough to sit on). Then there was the car that tried to sneak past the police barricade, car and crowds and get onto a street filled with 4,800 runners.

After we got out of downtown the course enters the Express lanes across I-5 to Interstate 90. It's pretty surreal to be running on freeway lanes and have freeway traffic on both sides of the dividers from you on one interstate, while you cross over another. Watching people snake up the bridge overpass reminded me of "Doomsday Hill" at Spokane's Bloomsday race. I ran into (almost literally) Matt from South Sound Running, we chatted a bit and he ran ahead to go find Mike. When we got through the tunnel and to the edge of Lake Washington the full marathoners had to run out across the I-90 Bridge to Mercer Island and back, and then out to and around Seward Park and back. The water was pretty rough and it was really cold down there. I was glad to be doing the half this year. I just headed out along the lake trying to save my legs for the hills.

I had forgotten how much concrete there is on this course, even in the half, and I was starting to feel it. It was much colder along the lake and the clouds were clearing causing the temperature to drop below freezing. Several people ran by with frost on their fleece vests. It was pretty interesting; the fabric wicked the moisture, which formed a thin film on the back of the vest, which then froze.

A woman fell at about mile 4 1/2 and no less than 10 people stopped to help her up and make sure she was OK (she was). Another woman didn't like the Power Gel she picked up at the previous aid station and offered it to me (I had my own, but NEVER turn down freebies, particularly chocolate ones) When she saw how excited I was about it, she found one that someone had dropped and gave that to me as well. Luckily people are nicer and more considerate on the race course than in line for the porta-potties. I met and talked to some REALLY cool people in this race.

From mile 5 on, my knees were starting to really hurt from all the concrete (which I normally avoid like the plague). King County WA, LOVES concrete for their roads. I-5 actually changes from asphalt to concrete at the county line coming up from the South.

The sun started to come out (sunny and freezing how interesting) and it was a spectacularly beautiful day. It was one of those days that makes me realize how lucky I am to live in the Pacific Northwest. Seattle has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. NO! Wait. We lose our residency right if we don't tell people how ugly, depressing, cold, gray and rainy it is here all the time... You'd hate it here. (whew, almost had to move for that one)

Then, we hit "The Hills from Hell", which start just after mile 21 for the full marathon runners and mile 7 for the half runners. There is a whole series of them (picture the streets of San Francisco), but they didn't seem to be as big to me in a half as they did when I ran the full marathon last year.

I hauled my old achy knees and slightly tight (but not injured) left Achilles tendon up those hills, running past everyone who stopped to walk (almost everyone walked up the hills). I was feeling pretty darn good and the uphill actually stretched out the Achilles, which quit nagging. We had a little bit of level ground on which to recuperate and then hit the big long hill up to the arboretum.

I felt (surprisingly) AWESOME at mile 9 when I headed up the big long hill to the arboretum and passed a bunch more people. It was so spectacularly beautiful up there; Lake Washington on One side, Lake Union on the other, and then a view of Elliot Bay and the City as we came down the other side. The trail/road was blanketed in huge, gold Aspen leaves which were falling around us as we ran. It was so incredibly peaceful and magickal. (please see disclaimer above as to how much it sucks to live here)

I was very careful not to overdo it coming down the screaming down hills (the last two miles of the race, before it leveled off downtown) because my knees were so achy from the concrete. Back at mile 10, when I was still up on the arboretum, I realized that I was way ahead of my anticipated pace and could do this in 2:30:00 or less. I didn't set an aggressive pace goal for all the reasons listed earlier and because this was really just a "long/training run" (with shiny things, shirts, course support and food) for the Rock and Roll Arizona Marathon in January.

I crossed the line at 2:27:19, way ahead of what I had projected. After some fiascos with cell phones not ringing through, I finally found Molly, Robert and May in the recovery area (which was thankfully INDOORS at the stadium) and had what was probably the BEST cup of Ivar's clam chowder ever, along with other goodies. Mmmmmm

I have come to the conclusion that there are no races in the Seattle-Tacoma area that contain any significant flat ground or that do not have a long, big ass hill to climb at the end. This place is evil !!! (and what do I expect in a town (s) at sea level that were formed by volcanoes and glaciers?)

I came, I ran, I had intestinal issues, I saw friends, I got a cool shirt, I finished in 29:38, managed not to soil my running tights and am ready for Seattle on Sunday (yeah right)

I stayed in bed too late this morning. I had my first of two Thanksgiving celebrations, with Andy last night and really wanted to sleep in. This was a mistake. I NEED to get up early enough on race day that my (ahem) bodily functions get moving before race time. Face it, on race morning, it’s “all about the poop”, especially when one has gorged themselves the day before. Go ahead, cry “TMI !!!” all runners know this is true ;) I also didn’t get to eat and ran the race on nothing but a soy mocha. I am a woman that can go do a 5 mile training run with a belly full of pizza and beer, so this is not good.

I arrived at “The Centere at Norpoint” and picked up my race number and timing chip. I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that we got long sleeve Duofold tech fabric shirts. They are an odd color of green, but it’s one of those shirts that will be easily recognizable in future races (as are last year’s Seattle Marathon “odd blue” and this year’s bright Yellow Portland Marathon Finisher shirts) and the turkey wearing running shoes is really cute. Starbucks (this is the Pacific Northwest) had a trailer there and they were giving out little samples of hot chocolate with whip cream, drizzled dark chocolate and sprinkles. Since I hadn’t eaten, I was really happy to see this.

I ran into the guys from South Sound Running in the gymnasium, then turned around and saw Lulu !!! She looks GREAT !!! When I got to the line up, I found two of my friends from the Mountaineers, Dave and Jodi. Right before the gun (actually, I think it was a cannon, it scared the crap out of me) went off, I saw Todd and yelled at him that I’d call him later to hook up at the Seattle Marathon expo.

It was a pretty crowded race, so I weaved through the crowd a bit and found my “happy place” where I wasn’t jammed in like a sardine (just ask Pat how anal I am about having “my space” in a race). The first (of many) hills was right out of the parking lot. Dave caught up with me and we ran most of the race together. He warned me about the hills, so I knew to take it easy and save it for the end.

We hit the one mile marker and realized that we were running an 8:30 pace which was WAY too fast for someone who had just placed in a 10 MILE race only 5 days before (my legs felt like lead) and was running a half marathon on a hilly course this weekend. We backed off and brought it down to a 9 something pace (had to save some for the hills) I don’t think it was smart not to eat because I did get a bit dizzy for a moment.

Just after the 2 mile marker as we were ascending the BIG hill, “it” hit. All the rich holiday food (and champagne) and the fact that I had slept in and couldn’t get my bodily functions working before the race made my intestines quite cranky. We were running through an upscale residential neighborhood, so there was NO way, I could “relieve” myself (especially #2) along the race course. At one point, I thought about walking, but that would have just prolonged my anguish, but I was terrified that things might “cut loose”. I took my pace down a few notches and Dave went on ahead of me. It was an interesting exercise in constricting some body parts and trying to relax others.

I was so incredibly relieved to see the finish line. I knew that between the hills and my angry intestines (and the other races I had and was going to run) there was NO way, I’d PR, but I did know that I could beat 30 minutes, so I kicked it up a notch and got to the finish at 29:38.

I threw my timing chip into the bucket at the collection area (luckily they were the Velcro band type, not the kind that had to be cut off) hurdled over the flagging in the finish area, hurdled some more bushes, jumped a kid and a small dog, ran through a pretty thick crowd sideways like a manic crab on speed, and bolted through the back door to the gymnasium and managed to find the bathroom with NO line (was this my day or what?). Good thing too. This was a potentially embarrassing (and yucky) situation and I made it without a moment to spare.

I got my “goomies”: water, sports drink, bananas, bagels, “natural” energy bars and hit the road. As I was getting into my truck, I saw Todd and Lulu again and said I’d call them later tonight.

I rushed, home, cleaned up, dressed up and headed to Seattle for an AMAZING Thanksgiving Feast at Fisherman’s Restaurant on Pier 57 with a group of really cool women. The weather was clear and we could see the Olympic Mountains. The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been if an Orca had surfaced out on the water. The first course was clam chowder, steamed clams and mussels and bread. The next course was salad, and then we had fabulous turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, yams and stuffing. We finished off the meal with pie and coffee. Of course, we had a different wine with each course.

Tomorrow, Molly, Erin and I are heading to Seattle to go to the Expo and pick up our race packets.

Molly and I had a 10 mile long run scheduled for today because the Seattle Half Marathon is next weekend; we decided to do a long run with food, water, course support, cool shirts, good food, nice people and a chance at hardware. Robert came along to cheer us on, take pictures and volunteer at the race.

It warmed up to 30 degrees (still below freezing but better than the 19 degrees it was last night) at the race start. Once we got out of the shelter of the trees, there was snow and ice on the ground. It was cold. It was BUTT cold. I had a cold butt. (and face, hands, toes etc…)

We were both in better condition that we thought after being so sick before, during and after the Portland Marathon (and being WAY off our training schedules) and finished well (although Molly needs to use her inhaler in cold weather BEFORE she starts feeling bad)

I finished in 1:41:03 and came in 2^nd in the women’s division and 1^st in my age group (40-44). Molly was right on my tail (see note about inhaler use in previous paragraph) and was 3^rd in the Women’s division and 2^nd in her age group (45-49) Not bad for a couple of old gals who had been really REALLY sick and have been off their training for over 6 weeks.

I didn’t tell anyone that I was going to do this. I knew that everyone would think I was nuts after being so sick at Portland and finishing anyway, and knew I’d get called crazy and be nagged. Molly and I both needed to do this in order to know that we could finish the half next weekend.

We inadvertently mentioned it to Robert last night and he offered to come along to cheer us on (and nag us to take care of ourselves) We got there pretty early and he was able to earn a nice turkey shirt for himself by volunteering, which he did an awesome job at. He also managed to cheer and be our photographer. What a great guy!

I seriously thought that I had frostbite on my fingers even though I was wearing gloves. For the first two miles I was doing some weird arm swinging to try to force blood back into them. During that time frame I ended up with some guy pacing me, not only pacing but drafting off of me (like my 5’10”, 135 lb frame really blocks any wind). He was a “breather”. Anyone who’s ever read one of my race reports knows how much I loathe having “breathers” right on my neck. He was so close I could FEEL him breathing. UGH !!! At least he wasn’t a spitter. For a moment, I was tempting to turn around and say, “If I’d wanted someone to be that close to me, I’d have brought a date.” But resisted the urge. Luckily, he was only running a 5K and I lost him at the first turn around.

The course is out and back across rolling hills (nothing like Pt. Defiance) as is almost entirely uphill all the way out. It never ceases to amaze me when I end up climbing hills on the way back. I didn’t remember running down any hills… Interesting.

I actually felt pretty good. A bit stiff and out of it, but not bad. The turn arounds for the shorter distance races (5 and 10K) were tempting, but I knew that I HAD to do 10 MILES today if I had any hope of actually being in good enough condition to do the half in Seattle next weekend.

The course support was great. Plenty of water, Gatorade and energy gels. Robert was there with the camera at the finish line because the 1^st place woman (an animal with the greatest calve muscles I’ve ever seen who was in Molly's age group) told him that, “The tall marathon runner with the red braid is right behind me)

I was really surprised to have come in 2^nd overall in the women. Molly and I both did pretty darn well against younger women.

It just goes to show that the old adage is true, “Age and treachery overcome youth and enthusiasm” ;)

We had great food: hot sandwiches, chili, fruit, drinks, desert, then headed home. We stopped off at an espresso bar on the way home for various warm treats. I had a hot caramel apple cider with whip cream. Mmmmmmmm.

NEVER EVER under any circumstances should anyone run a marathon only 6 days after they were diagnosed and treated for a urinary tract infection, even if their doctor gives them permission (I’m not certain she realized how far a marathon is, or perhaps she didn’t think I’d really do it)

With that said, I DSS (Did Something Stupid as opposed to DNS-Did Nothing Stupid/Did Not Start) and ran (sort of) the Portland Marathon. I am lucky not to be in the hospital or worse. I will never do anything that stupid again.

Was too stupid and stubborn to quit when I should have (between mile 11 and 14) and am darn lucky that my kidneys didn’t quit on me

I spent two days downing as much water and electrolyte solution as I could so that the antibiotics, antispasmodic and yeast infection prevention drugs as well as other waste products would be (high volume) flushed out of my kidneys. This was probably what saved me.

The expo was really hot, stuff and crowded but I wandered around for a while, well actually, I made about 6 or 7 trips down there, forgetting various things like pins and GU. (that and I was too stressed out to sit still). John Bingham was signing copies of “Marathoning for Mortals” and since I am on page 176, I decided that I should get one. When he found out who I was, he gave me a free, signed copy.

I was so stressed out and nervous the night before the marathon that I hardly slept at all. I knew that I probably shouldn’t be doing it and that I might not finish if I tried, but I was there, and thought I’d give it a go. I rescinded my time goal in an effort to be safe and sane. I was willing to walk the entire course if I had to, in order to finish healthy.

The alarm went off at 4:45 AM and I downed a mix of poweraid and water and headed downstairs to eat. My bowels refuse to move any earlier than 7:00 AM no matter what I do, so I hoped that I could “go” before start at the porta-potties

The starting line was a ZOO and it was next to impossible for many of us to get anywhere near our pace signs. We got swept in wherever, and got it sorted out later. (not like you can actually run in a crowd of 9,000 people on narrow city streets at the start anyway) The lines for the porta-potties were impossible so when “nature called” later on the course, I had to wait in line for 20 minutes. I was with the 3:30 pace group, (was trying for the 5 hour group) but by the time I had taken care of business and emerged from the porta-potty I was surrounded by walkers that I had to weave my way through adding even more time to the race (OK, I hadn’t set a goal, but I WAS planning on running as much as I could) Since I was concerned about my kidneys and drank more fluids than I was using (balanced with electorylytes so that I would not get hyponutremia) and had to take a lot of pee breaks as well. I’d say I lost a good 30 minutes of time or more in the bathrooms.

I ran a bit faster than I should have (OK a LOT faster) in order to get out of the walker’s group and back with the runners. There used to be a big problem with trains on the course (“The Penguin” wrote a column about it in Runners’ World) and the race organizers made a big deal out of the fact that they had “eliminated the evil trains” from the route. At about mile 5, a big, jolly, exuberant volunteer was jumping up and down yelling, “MOVE your butts, MOVE your feet. TRAIN coming… LET’S GO!” We looked at each other thinking that he was just having fun with us, but decided to sprint across the tracks just in case. No sooner had we crossed than the bells rang, lights flashed and the train came plodding along.

The weather stayed cool and overcast, perfect marathon conditions if you ask me. Early on in the race, a woman turned to me and said, “We’re almost to the top”. I said, “The top of what?” to which she answered, “The Hill”. I said, “THIS is the “hill” that was shown on the elevation map?” and she said “Yes”. Obviously, elevation gain was not going to be an issue. There was a lot of great music and entertainment on the route, but since most of it ran through the industrial section along the Willamette River, I’d have to say that it’s by far the ugliest race course I’ve ever ran. The race support and crowds were great.

Michael and I looked for each other on the out and back portion of the course (between mile 7 and 11) but never spotted each other. I also missed Lisa H and Wendy. I did run into Jennifer “Boom Boom” whom Pat and I ran a good portion of the Hippie Chick Half Marathon with.

I felt fine until miles 11 to 14 at which time, it was apparent that I was still very sick (chills, shivering, bladder and kidney pain), even though the anti-biotics (a 3 day course of Macrobid instead of a 10 day course of Bactrim) had started to work their magick and technically should have been out of my system. I broke out into a cold sweat as my lower abdomen (bladder) and lower back (kidneys) began to ache. I even started to shiver when I should have been hot and sweaty. I had to have looked really REALLY bad because people from the aid tables stepped out onto the course to ask me if I was OK. I started taking walk breaks until I could get to a good point (decent road access) for someone to pick me up and get me out of there. After hearing my friend Molly’s doctor tell her (she got a UTI at the same time, but it moved into the kidneys and blood stream) that if she so much as tried to walk it that she was risking kidney failure; I was really scared.

I was about ready to “give it up” and call for help at mile 14, when it all stopped. I was still very tired and fatigued, but did not feel like my kidneys were going to stop, as a matter of fact, I had peed a few times so I knew that they were working even if they were unhappy and thinking about quitting.

Andy had called at mile 14 (when I was practically in tears) since he and his family were going to come cheer me on at mile 20, which was near there house and then go to the finish line. I told him that I was sick, not doing well and was an hour back on my anticipated pace and that they might as well hang out at home for a while then call to see where I am (and if I could continue for that matter). An older woman, struggling up the hill to the St. John’s Bridge came up behind me after hearing my phone call and offered me half of her peanut butter sandwich (which I’m sure she needed herself). Another two women said that they were praying for me. I will have to say that not only do these races attract exceptional people, but that they bring out the best in them.

I decided to take the “race” one step at a time and to reevaluate my condition at every mile marker and stop the minute my symptoms returned. Once my “systemic” issues resolved, I “hit the wall” (early wall hitting was likely a result of being very ill and not running at all the two weeks prior to the race) and deal with the usual aches, pains and uncertainties. All my joints ached and I was doing some really weird stuff with my gait, keeping my feet wide apart and running very “stiff”, which became a vicious circle of pain leading to bad running form, causing more pain.

Meanwhile they (Andy and family) weren’t about to wait until mile 20, pulled out the course map, saw that the next possible place they could see me was the other side of the St. John’s Bridge (mile 17ish) and headed out, very concerned about me. I straightened up, tried to smile and was actually the only person actually running across the bridge as the hill (well, we in Tacoma/Seattle wouldn’t exactly call it a hill, but it was long) wiped most of the folks running that pace (slow) out. I thought I was hiding it well, but Andy said that their “hearts sank” when they saw me because they could tell how bad I felt and how much I was struggling. It was then that he decided what he “had to do”.

For the next, long, nasty 8 miles, Andy had his family drop him off at each mile marker and he’d jump out and run a bit with me to encourage me and make certain that I was OK. They followed me along the course to the finish at which point Andy jumped off the course before the chute and took pictures of me staggering across the finish line.

I got my medal, shirt, rose, tree seedling and armloads of food and headed back to the hotel for a shower and massage. Afterwards we went to Michael and Phyllis’s house for a FABULOUS feast and then over to Andy’s sisters house to visit.

I was over trained, under rested and had an extremely unspectacular finish, which although was a couple of minutes faster than I ran this race last year, was a bit disappointing. I have two words to describe today. Lead Legs. I ran faster at altitude in Boulder on an injured IT band than I did today. At least I’m not injured. My IT bands are doing fine.

This was probably NOT a good idea this far into my Portland Marathon training especially after my other stupid move of running the Hood to Coast followed by a half marathon the next day two weeks ago. My 18 miler was last week and my 20 miler is next weekend (then its taper madness).

A woman who was probably close to 10 years younger than me (I’m 40) went down on the course. When I ran by, the paramedics had her on a heart monitor, oxygen and an IV. She didn’t look conscious but was obviously breathing because they weren’t bagging (breathing for) her. It must have been quite serious because the ambulance ran code 3 straight through the race course, rather than going around and down the hill from Old Town.

See short report for how fried and over trained/under rested my body is at this point. In addition to that, all the stress of the final days of the divorce, stalking and some other minor personal issues (all of which are now resolved) prevented me from sleeping more than 3-4 hours a night this week, and I know I wasn’t eating well or enough.

This is a very difficult course. It starts up in downtown Tacoma in front of Key BANK, runs down hill, then over two BIG overpasses down to the waterfront (the BAY). We turn around in front of Shenanigan’s head back over the two BIG overpasses and then up the “Hill from Hell”

I barely made it there. I finally feel asleep at about 3:30 this morning and was awoken by a noisy neighbor who thinks it’s appropriate to have loud conversations outside of other people’s windows at 4:45 AM. By the time I got back to sleep, it was time to get back up. I slept from 6:00 AM (when I killed my alarm clock) to 7:30 AM. All I was able to get down was a soy mocha and a piece of toast. I got to the race 12 minutes before the start and made my warm up run the space between where I parked and the starting line where I did my stretch. I was lucky, because the porta potty lines are short and I got in and out of there quickly. Never mind that this race was a little over a mile from my house and I had gone before I left. Starting lines stimulate my kidneys.

I was so tired that I honestly thought about just walking off the course within the first half mile. I must have been going faster than I thought because I hit the one mile marker at 8:30, which is WAY too fast. I could NOT run this for time even had I been feeling good since my body is at peak stress from my marathon long runs. I slowed it down to a 9:30 pace on the next mile. By mile 4 I was down to a 10:00 mile and the course went uphill from there and my performance went downhill.

Alex (who I didn’t expect to see because he went to a bachelor party the night before) caught up to me at about mile 3. He ran with me for a while and then sped back up. You know you’re not doing well when someone who hasn’t been training and is nursing a hangover blows you out of the water.

They had bands playing in several locations, the volunteers were great and there were a LOT of nice people to talk to on the course.

I didn’t push hard up the final hill or kick too soon at the finish this year, but still got light headed like last year. That hill at the end is just nasty. I finished at 1:03:40 feeling dizzy and queasy. I got my ice cream, banana, orange, water and cliff bar and went back to look for Robert.

I calculated my finish time, the fact that the 5K started 20 minutes later and Robert’s pace and figured that I’d come in about 5 minutes ahead of him. I never saw him on the course when it finally merged with the 5K route, nor did I see him when I went back to the finish line.

I had to rush from the race to make it to church. The first service in September is our “water communion” where we all bring water from (or provided that symbolizes) our journeys over the summer. It’s a BIG deal and very moving. I don’t like to miss it AND the choir (which I am in) was supposed to lead the song. I cleaned up as best I could with baby wipes, put on deodorant and a clean shirt and went in my running clothes. This is becoming an annual thing for me so it didn’t surprise anyone and they said I smelled fine.

From there, I had to rush home, take a quick shower, change and go lead a workshop at a local festival. I finally found Robert there and got his race report. (which I'm sure he'll be posting soon)

I’m tired. I’m going to make my weekday runs VERY easy next week and do a nice SLOW 20 miler, then take tapering VERY seriously. My body is definitely feeling the effects of all that I’ve been asking of it lately.

Wasn’t sure I would/could/should do this. My hips and IT bands were cranky and I was exhausted. My dear friend Gayle was gracious enough to let me stagger into her beautiful home in Vancouver WA, late at night and smelly and provided me a safe place to sleep, shower and made sure I had OJ, almonds and protein bars. I got up at 6:00 and headed towards home and the race, not certain if I could stretch my hips out or not.

I actually finished the stupid thing (slowly, like a real penguin) without walking or sitting down and crying, and since no fast runners in my age group showed up, I won my division, with my slowest ever half marathon time of 2:42:12

I still wasn’t sure if I should try the half after the HTC and only 5 hours sleep total the previous two nights. I decided to get up at 6:00 AM anyway and see how I felt, since Elma was on the way home (sort of) and at least get my shirt. I got there and proceeded to to warm up, stretch out well and give it a VERY SLOW try (I am SUCH a hardware whore, they were giving out finisher medals and I wanted one). I was willing to walk off the course (more likely lay down in a fetal position) if needed to avoid seriously injuring myself before the Portland Marathon.

My IT bands were fine, (ice and Alevie are good things) and my hips actually loosened up quite nicely when I stretched, so I gave it a go. The folks at the race couldn’t believe I was trying it after running the HTC and told me I was nuts or an animal or both (had been hearing that from HTC folks for the previous two days). I don’t feel quite so tough though the guy who WON the full marathon ran the HTC on an elite team (of course they were on the course 11 hours less than we mortals were, so he had more sleep/recovery than I did)

I started out slowly (I thought) until I got to mile 1 and realized that I was running a 9 minute mile. I knew I’d collapse at that pace, so I brought it back down, to 10, then 11 at the next mile, then settled into 12 minute miles. I wanted that finisher medal and would like to have won my division (can only do it in these smaller races) but wasn’t going to risk injuring myself before Portland.

The course was beautiful, gentle rolling hills (quite flat actually) along country roads and crossing a river. The weather was spectacularly beautiful, starting out cool, but getting pretty darn warm by the end. The people that organize and run these races are some of the nicest folks I’ve ever met. Everyone encourages everyone else, fast, slow or in the middle. At the turn around, I met Tiffany who turns out to be a penguin. We ran the last 6 miles in together, in a leapfrog fashion as she was doing a Galloway method race (run 5 min/walk 1 min)

I crossed the finish line in an unspectacular manner for my slowest ever race pace in 2:42:12. I got my medal (I LOVE shiny things) and discovered that no fast women in my division had shown up and that I was the 1^st one in. I also got a division winner trophy. Normally, I’d be embarrassed to accept one for a run like that, but darn it. The fact that I stayed upright and didn’t even so much as take a walk break after the HTC made me feel as if I earned it. I am displaying it proudly.

198 miles from the top of Mt. Hood to Seaside Oregon. 6 sweaty runners packed like sardines in the back of a cargo van for 30 hours, 3 legs totaling 17.25 miles without adequate warm up, cool down or sleep. 1,000 teams of 12, split between 2 vans which are decorated and crazily as possible. Basically a wild two day party and torture on the body. Since Pat was in the other van and I never had to run next to her, I didn’t have any “accidents”

I arrived in Portland at 1:00 PM on Friday to park my truck at Flightcraft, where Sue’s husband Bruce works and where we were picking up our van. At 2:00 PM , we met the rest of our van’s team in the Fred Meyer parking lot. Each team is made up of 12 people split between to vans. There are 3 sets of 12 legs of the race, for a total of 36 legs. Van 1 runs legs 1-6, then meets Van 2 at an “exchange” point and Van 2 runs legs 7-12 and the cycle starts over. Each van gets a couple hours rest in which to drive to the next exchange, eat, and sleep (yeah right) between the 1^st and 2^nd and 2^nd and 3^rd sets of legs. Several vans had what seems to be an unofficial race motto painted on them, “Sleep when you’re Dead”.

I was the “leg 10 runner” meaning that I ran legs 10, 22 and 34. I will have to say that getting dropped off, grabbing the metal bracelet that the runners pass to each other and hauling butt for 5-8 miles and hopping back into a van without cooling down so that you can get to the midpoint of the next runner’s leg to give them water, cheer them on, etc… is probably as hard or harder on the body as running a marathon.

Our first exchange was in Sandy OR. What a ZOO. The decorations on the vans were amazing; paint, streamers, balloons, stuffed animals, blow up dolls, slugs with feet, you name it… While we were waiting for Van 1, Sue and Tina (our drivers/organizers/team moms) took some of the paint we had used to decorate our van (pictures available on the photo page) to make green dots on everyone. The paint dispensers looked like small bingo markers so they made perfect dots. We snuck up on several other vehicles and dotted them. One van that had little stick figure runners on their back window later discovered that all their little runners had big green dots for butts. Some guy from another van asked if they were contagious and got “spotted”. After that, a guy from the “Big Dogs” (their van was painted up to look like a dog, with a big tongue hanging out the hood) wanted to borrow our red paint. We told them, only if we get to put dots on you. Somehow, the situation degenerated (as these kinds of things always do) and their whole team dropped their shorts and I put green dots on their butts. Then other teams wanted their butts (and other body parts dotted). We left a wake of green dots in our path the entire race course. Pretty soon, Tina and Sue walked up to EVERY van, runner and race official we came in contact with and asked them if they’d been dotted. We left several race officials with green dots on their foreheads. Since the start was staggered from 9:00 AM to 9:00 PM on Friday with the faster teams starting later, we (and those left in our wake of destruction) got passed by several teams. By the time they caught us we’d hear things like, “So YOU are the ones doing the green dots, can I have one?” We lost count at 350 victims.

My first leg (10) started at around 8:00 PM and ran down an urban trail corridor in Gresham Oregon. The sun was just going down and I wished I had brought my pepper spray. It looked like a good place to get mugged. It was a beautiful sunset. My friends Michael and Phyllis from Team Penguin Portland showed up to cheer me on, take photos, and Michael was going to run my first couple of miles with me. We were late getting there (detour) and I had to jump out of the van down the road (parking at all these areas was crazy) and jog up to the porta-potties, do a 30 second stretch (thanks Phyllis for letting me lean on you) then take the bracelet (they were the metal slap on kind, which out team kept stiff and passed like a baton since we had witnessed some painful “misslaps”). I ran the 440 relay in high school so Jeanette (handing off to me) and Kerry (I hand off to him) had the baton pass down. Michael said that one minute I was there and the next I was down the road. He tossed the camera to Phyllis and hit the trail in his colorful Hawaiian shirt. He thinks he may start running in Rayon as it was very comfortable. When he caught up with me at about 1 ½ miles, he said that he though I was running a 7:30 mile for the first mile. I think he overestimates my speed, but all the excitement did make me a bit hyper. I got back down to a 9:30 pace and he ran with me as long as he could, while Phyllis patiently waited at the parking area, and likely amused herself by watching all the vans and other runners. Just as Michael left me I was joined by the namesake of the “John’s Walking Again” team, who ran the rest of the 6.2 mile leg with me. He said that he’d been busting his butt to catch up to me, which made me feel good since the elite teams were starting to catch up to us mortals and I was getting “killed” left and right. (each time you pass another team you get a “roadkill”, these are kept track of on the outside of the van to show how studly a team is). I got one kill on that route. Going out too fast without proper warm up, then having to jump in the van killed my quads and tightened up my hips and pesky IT bands. This was the start of 24 very painful hours. Later Michael and Phyllis tried to find us again at the first exchange near the old Spaghetti Factory in Portland where they had a pasta feed set up in the parking lot. They never found us (it was a ZOO) but evidentially enjoyed the “show” and some pasta. We grabbed our pasta, then headed out to the fairground is Scapose <sic> (fun name to say) and sort of slept (in a parking lots filled with hundreds of vans coming in and out and someone on a loudspeaker yelling out teams numbers as they hit the exchange), from about midnight to 2:00 AM, when our van was due to hit the road again. I thought I was going to DIE without a soy mocha, and lo and behold and trailer with an espresso stand was set up. I had my soy mocha. I would live.

My next leg was leg 22. A 6.8 mile leg rated “hard” that started up a steep dirt/gravel trail, turning on to a steep downhill mountain road going over the coastal range. Steep, sustained downhills are NOT good on stiff IT bands and hips. I hurt like hell and looked like crap. Our team offered to let me jump in the van and have someone else finish. NO WAY IN HELL !!! My doctor told me what I could and could not run though (kids, don’t try this at home) and we weren’t running competitively so I toughed it out. I looked like crap when I finally got the exchange and my wonderful teammates had ice packs and Aleive waiting for me. I did the “drainage” thing that Joseph taught me, where you scoot your butt up to a wall, tree, side of the van and put your legs up to let them drain and keep swelling and inflammation down. Everyone else thought this was interesting, so there were 5 of us in the back of the van with our feet on the ceiling. Too funny… There I was, on my back, feet in the air, holding ice packs on my butt.

By mid morning on Saturday, we were all exceptionally loopy from being crammed in the van and sleep deprivation. People were also starting to deal with “injuries and conditions” that we thought were hilarious. Poor Spencer (he’s only 19 and has never done anything like this before) learned about bloody nipples and the need for bandaids or bodyglide. Kerry had some sort of scrotum injury that occurred when I was out running. I never got (nor did I want details) but we had fun with it for the rest of the trip (will likely last into next year) and there was assorted discussion about chafing, the color and frequency of our urine (hydration indicator) not being able to poop and how “regular” we were normally. You learn a lot about people when you’re crammed in a van with them for 30 hours.

After the exchange in Mist, we drove to the start of leg 31, to nap/eat/stretch/whatever and wait for van 1. It was too hot to do much sleeping, so I wandered around the encampment to look at all the strangeness. People were there from all over the world and want to great pains to decorate their vans, runners and to have crazy themes. For some, it must be the only time of year that they don’t have to act like adults. I was watching a guy in the van next to ours serving up Coronas with lime and Wheat Beers with lemon. He saw me watching and said, “What can I get for you?”, I said, “If you’re serious, I’ll take a wheat beer.” Oh man, that was cold and wonderful. I thanked him, told him he was “a god” and then wandered back to my van. Kerry and Chris saw me with the beer and asked where I got it. I grinned and sweetly said, “It’s nice to be a girl”

My last leg was the shortest, only 4 ½ miles out towards the coast on terrain that was labeled “flat and easy” Whoever rated that route must have been on drugs. It was rolling hills the entire way, not a flat stretch to be seen. It was more difficult in my opinion than the “moderate” I ran for my first leg. As I was walking to the start, I got passed by a couple of the elite runners who must have seen me stagger in and almost drop at the end of leg 22. They said “Hi” and when they got just past me, one turned to the others and said, “That’s the one I told you about, she runs strong.” I’m looking around like, “WHO? Me? – no frikking way!” By this time, I was so stiff and in so much pain that I was wondering if I could even walk it more or less run it. But damn it, I was going to try. Amazingly enough, I even got a kill. I had hobbled and staggered enough through the other legs and my teammates had talked about how crazy I was at enough exchanges that I started getting passed by other teams who had been talking and hearing, “You go girl, you are an inspiration to us all.” And “Sister, you show the world that women are tough”. Vans from other teams pulled over to offer me food, water, and even beer. Runners saw green dots on our folks, asked if we were from the “green dot” team and then asked about me. I was becoming a “mini legend” I didn’t feel like a legend, I felt somewhat pathetic. I didn’t know whether to be proud or to cry at all the attention I was getting.

I was SO relieved to have my last leg done. We got Spencer sent off on his (our) last leg and beat feet down to Seaside to be there at the finish. It’s difficult for van 2 to do, so we parked a ways away and then hustled to the beach. We were all so stiff by this time that must have been quite the sight to behold. The finish is set up on the beach and teams stand near the announcer who calls out the number of each finisher when they enter the boardwalk. Then the teams have two minutes to get into the chute and run across the finish as a team. It was REALLY cool for all 12 of us to finish together. I just LOVE finish lines and crowds, so I actually managed a good spring in my sandals. After that, we got herded into the photo area for team pictures and our medals, got gear and people situated and headed our separate ways. I was going back to Portland as I had a Half Marathon to run the next day in Elma Washington (was going to make the final decision in the morning) and some were staying in Seaside.

We stopped for Mexican Food in Astoria Oregon and the rest of the trip was a blur.

My one year anniversary of racing, hotter than Hell, had a somewhat “creepy encounter”, didn’t get as bad of a heat headache as last year, high-fived about 1,000 kids on the race course where it ran along the parade route, due to nagging IT bands last week and my being a wimp in the heat I only cut 4 minutes off of my time from last year, and enjoyed cold beer and good company at FX McRory’s afterwards. Finished in just under 48 minutes.

Long Report:

6:30 PM is a terrible time to start a race this far North, but they like to do it at that time so that the participants can run right before the big SeaFair Torchlight Parade in front of 300,000 spectators. We usually reach our peak temperatures at 6:00 PM. The asphalt on the Alaska Way Viaduct had been baking in the sun all day long and was radiating about 180 degrees Fahrenheit heat. The race course was reversed from last year to the original course, starting and ending at Seahawk’s Stadium rather than the Seattle Center. Driving and parking was much easier, even with a Mariner’s game getting out.

My friend and I got there two hours early and hit the Elliot Bay Bookstore for carbs and water in the café and book browsing before the race. As we were leaving the bookstore, I felt what can only be described as “a disruption in the force” and/or a “sense of foreboding” (I should never ignore this, it’s ALWAYS right). We walked back to the start area, and watched the costume contest. As soon as I headed to the stadium parking lot for my warm up run, I almost ran smack into my ex-husband (who has been engaging in some stalking like behavior here locally and is generally a scary, controlling, obsessive and violent person) I turned the other way before he saw me and after a few minutes realized that I NEEDED to do a warm up run and that parking lot was the only place. It’s not like he was going to do anything to me in front of thousands of people, so I just got into the parking lot as quickly as I could, pointed him out to my friend in case he did decide to do anything weird and got to the farthest side of the lot to do my run. Well of course, the minute I headed out there, he headed out there. I was running on the other side of some trucks and trailers so that I’d be out of sight, but the jerk found me and just stood there with his hands on his hips staring at me, I’m assuming trying to intimidate me. I just ignored it. I finished a short warm up and then headed back to the crowd to stretch and never saw him again. Apparently his girlfriend was not happy with him at all when he followed me out there. The funny thing is. At this time last year, I was trying to make a bad marriage that for all intensive purposes ended the month before, work for the sake of the “family” and “working at it rather than taking the easy way out”, and was in tears at this race both from fear (risking getting picked up by the “wussie wagon” in front of 300,000 people for not making a tight cut off was a scary thought; I didn’t know if I could run 5 miles straight at this time last year), anxiety and how bad he was treating me that day. This year, I looked at him and felt nothing… absolutely nothing other than pity for his girlfriend. I have come a long way.

Last year there were just under 3,000 runners; This year there were 2,200 on the narrow streets of Seattle. After having done Bloomsday and the Bolder Boulder (50,000 people), a couple thousand people is nothing. I didn’t line up at the back of the pack this time (I also wasn’t crying this year); I wasn’t afraid of being trampled and stood confidentially closer to the front than the middle, laughing and joking with people, feeling like I was a real runner and actually belonged there. What a difference a year makes. Last year it took me 2 full minutes to get to the starting line (which sucks when you’re in a hand timed race). This year it only took me 20 seconds. Due to the narrow streets it took several minutes to get anywhere near a pace that even remotely resembled a run, but I expected that.

The race went up a steep hill and ramp to the viaduct first. Luckily I run hills all the time so it was no big deal. We’ve had a pretty long stretch of very hot weather up here and the viaduct was BRUTAL. HOT HOT HOT… My face was flushed, my chest hurt, I was dizzy, and I was certain after a mile and a half that this would be the race where I finally threw up. I didn’t have to worry about my IT bands because I couldn’t breathe well enough to run fast enough to hurt them. The teenage kid that was standing next to me at the start, who I warned to take it easy on the viaduct, grabbed his stomach and staggered over to the side of the road to sit down. I felt for him. People were dropping back to a walk/stagger like crazy.

One we got done being baked on the viaduct, we hit the infamous Battery Street Tunnel. I’m not sure how long it is, but for a good time you can’t see daylight coming from either end. There is NO AIR in that place (also noted on my St. Patty’s Day Dash report from this year) between the heat and all the runners sucking the oxygen out of the place, it’s not pleasant, but at least this year, I wasn’t at risk of not catching up to a guy in a hot, hairy Sasquatch costume. Just before mile 3 we exited the tunnel to more baking heat. There was the water table. I got about half a cup down before I decided it was making me sicker than anything. Some really sweet little girl was throwing cups of water on us. I wanted to stop and hug her.

Just before mile 4 we hit the parade route and SHADE !!! Blessed, beautiful shade. Unfortunately, the sun had just gone behind the tall buildings and the asphalt was still 180 degrees. Those buildings that created all the lovely shade also blocked any chance of a breeze. Most of us probably would have dropped right there, was it not for the energy 300,000 parade spectators cheering you on like a hero whether you were in 1st place, dead last or somewhere in the middle. A few folks were kind enough to spray us with super soakers and spray bottles. I wanted to stop and hug them all. It’s tradition that the kids step out onto the race course to get high-fives from the runners. It’s just so cool even if it does slow you down. I wonder how many of those kids might remember the runners they looked up to taking the time to high five them and if that inspired any of them to become athletes later on in life? For that reason, I make an extra effort to get to the girls (who even after title-9 are still not as enthusiastically encouraged to become athletes instead of cheerleaders), minorities and kids that look like they might come from “at risk” families or neighborhoods. Kids that are involved sports are less likely to get into trouble (sex, drugs, gang activity) and more likely to lead safe, healthy lives. If I can help that in any way, now matter how small, I’ll add some time to my race.

At the end of the parade route, the course turned downhill for a while. I probably ran that a bit faster than I should have, but luckily didn’t kill my IT bands. I was pretty dizzy by the time I hit the stadium and didn’t even see the finish line (which was much closer than I thought it was) until I heard the announcer. I didn’t have much left, but managed a bit of a kick and passed about 10 people in the last 100 yards. I crossed the finish line in just under 48 minutes on the clock which was about 4 minutes faster than last year. It was not as much of an improvement as I had hoped for after a year of racing, but it was an improvement and I did not injure myself or aggravate my IT bands which is the most important thing.

We went to FX McRory’s for a beer before heading home (my freind had thought to ask the waitress to reserve a table). We had $4 off coupons on our race bib and enjoyed air conditioning. A guy at the next table said that they were charging $7.50 for beer in the hot, crowded beer garden. Silly people.

It was a good day and a good weekend.

This is the MOST BRUTAL course I have ever run. There is not a single inch of this course that even resembles flat ground. It makes the Seattle Marathon look like a cake walk. It’s a good thing that it runs through beautiful old growth forest on the water’s edge or no one in their right mind would do it. I did not PR, but I finished UNINJURED and with NO pain (and only 2:13 off of my Bloomsday time which was pretty good). I Ran into Jeri and Moose from the PB list on the course at mile 6. Robert from the CTS list (Knut from SOC) PR’d in the 5K, but he’ll be sending his own report. A fine day was followed by a Buttface Amber Ale and a burger on the waterfront. It almost made up for getting the “world’s ugliest race shirt”.

OMG… I thought that this would be a piece of cake since I run the hills at Pt. Defiance every weekend (well not lately since I’ve been rehabbing the IT band). It was brutal. Definitely the most challenging race I have ever run.

As soon as I walked up to the registration area, I ran into Courtney who I used to work with at CHB and has since moved to Oregon. This would not be my only “out of state” encounter for this race.

I got there in plenty of time to do a warm up run and stretch. Even though I quit drinking 2 hours before the race, there’s something about entering a race area that sets off my bladder. The line at the porta-potties was so long that when I got in the line the 5K race started and before I got to the potties, the first runners had come in.

The non profit I work for has a partnership with REI so I was able to leave my stuff in my friend Karlan’s car rather than deal with the line at clothing storage. The REI booth was packed, so I’m expecting that the program I teach there will be full for the rest of the year.

I should NOT have signed up for the “weenie wave” even though I was coming off of an injury and technically if you were planning on running slower than a 9 minute mile that’s where you were supposed to place yourself. It took me over a minute to get to the starting line (this race was not chip timed) and I had to pass really slow runners and walkers. Heck, for that matter I passed people in all the waves ahead of me. Matt from South Sound Running was doing the “Prize Patrol” for our wave so I let him “break the crowd” in front of me. Since I run with them on Mondays, I knew I didn’t stand a chance of actually getting a prize, so at least he was good for something ;)

The first mile is all downhill (a lot of people screw up in this race and go out too fast). At about the half mile mark it’s a “steep deep” that scared the heck out of me. All of the people I passed, passed me as I leaned way back, slowed way down, relaxed my stride and concentrated on stepping lightly and precisely. The folks who live along the course were great. We had lots of sprinklers set up to cool off in (of course, since I had new shoes, I passed because I didn’t want to get them wet)

Once we got into the park at about a mile and a half, we hit “The Monster” (yes, the hill has a name) people were gagging, wheezing, stopping to walk and I think I heard one person actually barf (this would not be the only time I’d hear that on this course). I chugged on up without too much difficulty, however, it was apparent that because of taking it easy on the injury I was WAY out of shape and WAY off my training. This hill makes “Doomsday Hill” at Bloomsday look like a weenie hill. Its’ not as long, but it’s steep and deep. Inside the park the parks folks had fire hydrants rigged with sprinklers.

Now we were on familiar territory for me, the park loop that I run every week. I started passing people from all of the waves even though I was “taking it easy” (they really need to require proof for the waves in this race). At this point, I thought I might PR without hurting myself.

Then we left the park. I (along with many others including Matt from South Sound Running) thought that this would be easy and that we’d have an advantage since we run the hills in the park every weekend. WRONG !!! The nastiest hills are outside the park and the most significant sustained uphill runs almost the entire last 2 ½ miles of the race.

At mile 6 (as I’m getting ready to suck wind again) I hear, “LISA?” and turn to see Jeri and Moose from the PB list who had come out from Louisiana to run the race. The last I had heard from them was, “Hey, we’re traveling is this race worth doing?” Talk about a penguin encounter “on the run”. I guess being a 6’ tall redhead has it’s advantages when people you’ve never met before want to pick you out of a crowd of 6,000 runners.

Well, at mile 6.5 it was apparent that I was not going to PR. I’d like to say that it was because I was being sensible (although I was a good girl on the first hills) and taking care of my IT band, but it was because I was sucking wind and wanted to puke. (at least I was in good company on this one)

When I got within 100 yards or so of the finish line, a guy I had been running the last mile with looked at me. I looked at him. Basically, we gave each other the “stink eye” (as Catie likes to call it) and the “race” was on. There were no other waves, there was no Eric Tolefson who wins everything. There was Me and him and that finish line. We both opened up (hey running the 440 relay in high school was good for something after all) and I got into the chute a full length ahead of him. I truly believe that the most intense race is the one for 447^th place. I crossed the line at 1:14:13 watch time. Not spectacular, but given the course difficulty, not too shabby.

Jeri and Moose came in at 1:27:22. They were taking it easy including walk breaks, since they are running the marathon in Port Angeles tomorrow. Both if their sons PRd in the 5K. We took a picture at the end of the race so that there would be "photographic evidence" of their being involved in a Penguin Encounter.

Some really nice kid handed me a bottle of water, I got my finishers certificate wolfed down oranges and bananas and went to find my friends. Roman Meal sponsored this race (their logo was on everything including be prominently displayed on the FRONT as well as the back of the “worlds ugliest race shirt”. Since I was now stuck with an ugly shirt, I at least wanted my “free bread”. 3 of us went to the trucks to find them and the table unstaffed. We went over to the ladies running the Roman Meal booth next door who told us, “We only had 5,000 loaves, they went right away.” I said, “Oh well, that’s what I get for chatting rather than coming over here to get my bread; such is life.” The ladies looked at each other then reached under the table and produced 3 1 lb containers of “All natural multigrain hot cereal.” SCORE !!! That’s much better than bread.

I never found Catie, who was working one of the medic units for the race along the course. People were dropping like flies and she was running around like crazy running calls the whole time. It’s a good thing I didn’t need that ice pack she was saving for me. Even though I had no pain, I did decide to take a prophylactic dose of naprosyn until I could get home and ice the knee. I do have the Portland Marathon to think of and long run season is NOW.

I found Robert, May and Alice (who waited for me even though the 5K finished way earlier-what great folks) and we went to the RAM for burgers and beer.

I feel good enough to go out dancing tonight (well after some yoga and a nap). It was a good day J

They totally screwed up the race registration for hundreds of people that registered on line and we didn't have packets when we showed up. I had to wait in line in the scorching sun for over an hour, while my wave started then finished. I was so pissed off than I ran a PR even though it was hot (close to 90 degrees Fahrenheit) and about 90% humidity. The IT band hurts, but nothing like it did after the Hippie Chick. (yes Steven and Joseph, I WILL rest between now and Sound to Narrows (which I should kick butt at after all this altitude running)

Linda and I had a comedy of errors trying to find parking in Boulder and got separated when she needed a bathroom desperately and I ran a mile and a half to pick up our race packets (mine which did NOT get mailed to their house in GJ but they told me had gone to the start instead and hers which we were too late to pick up the previous day at Boulder Running Company). Despite the mishaps, I got to the packet pick up area in plenty of time. Linda's packet was there, mine was not and we only had 15 minute to go before our wave started (I suspect that mine was mailed to Tacoma in error). The line to get new bibs was almost 3/4 of a mile long, I ran back to the storage trucks to give Linda her packet and then back to the check in to go wait in line and miss my wave. I stood in the hot sun for over an hour. I had eaten just enough food and had hydrated just enough for a 7:30 start without bathroom breaks. The extra hour dehydrated me and left me feeling a bit woozy from low blood sugar. Luckily I Had a GU in my pouch and sucked that down so that I wouldn't pass out.

I was so pissed off to get put in a non-qualifying, slow wave (at least I was not the only qualified runner it happened to) rather than the one I qualified for that I ran my first mile in a little over 8 minutes and realized that I'd better slow down or I'd kill the IT band and/or puke my guts out. Heat, humidity, low blood sugar, altitude and slight dehydration made this race extremely difficult. Don't even get me started on having to pass hundreds of joggers and walkers which really takes it's toll on one's time.

I hit the 5K point at 28:50 and realized that even with everything that was going on, I still stood a chance of breaking the one hour barrier for a 10K. Residents of Boulder were VERY cool and many of them set sprinklers to spray the streets and or shot us with hoses. That and the fact that there were more water stops than even in a marathon, helped get me through. Lots of bands, dancers and fun things to watch as we went by. Unfortunately, most of the water stop folks stood behind the tables rather than in front which made getting through the water stops slow and difficult (maybe that's a Colorado thing?)

At the 9 K mark, I thought I was going to throw up for sure. Then the course markers went from 9.1 to 9.2, etc... and it seemed that I was barely moving and would never finish at all, more or less in under an hour. I was too sick and pissed off and had run too hard to not make time. Coming up the ramp into the stadium was awful and the heat inside the stadium (in which we had to run 3/4 of the way around) almost took me out. I went from dizzy and wanting to throw up to feeling like my intestines were going to cut loose. At that point, I didn't care. I wasn't sure I'm make it in time as I felt like I was staggering at that point, but Linda (who had to wait for me in the hot sun for an hour) said I looked good. I think she was being nice. She waved to me from the stands and then we lost each other.

My IT band hurt, but nowhere near as bad as after the Hippie Chick. I took some Naprosyn and got ice to put on my leg from the folks that were handing out sodas. We had great goodie bags (special 25th anniversary thermos type lunch bags) and got snacks, sodas, and low carbohydrate beer (tell me what is the point of that?) After that, I waited in line for the free massage. The Boulder School of massage was attempting to break the world record for number of massages in one day. The guy that worked on me was GREAT !!! He really knew how to get at the IT band and did me a lot of good. After that, I wandered over to the expo to get my t-shirt (which they didn't give to me when they finally got me a bib so that I could rush to the next starting wave).

Then it was time to meet Linda and our friend Carl to watch the elite runners. Since Linda had my stuff, including my cell phone, I never got to call Mary or Robert for a Penguin encounter :( Standing for an hour and a half was NOT good on the IT band which started to stiffen up (after that great massage therapist loosened it up so well). It was too stiff to walk back to the car, so Linda left me in front of Safeway and got the car, while Carl went in and got me a bag of frozen corn to put on my leg. I felt like a weenie, but at least I was a weenie that PR'd.

Other than that, it was fun. and I did PR. We're going to do it again next year. I feel pretty good about taking 8 minutes off of my 10K time, injured and at altitude no less. I qualified for a much faster wave next year.

Fun dinner, great penguin encounter… The line for check in was long, I never got to use a bathroom, I didn’t warm up or stretch enough, I tripped on a tree root and fell down at mile three (good thing I bounce, I didn’t miss a beat) I went out WAY too fast (9 minute miles from the negative split queen?), Since I couldn’t use the bathroom, my (ahem) feminine hygiene product couldn’t handle the stress, My hips locked up at mile 8 (see note about not warming up/stretching enough and going out too fast) and I thought I wasn’t going to finish at all. I stopped to stretch, hobbled for a couple miles then when things loosened up I picked it back up a bit. Even with falling, stopping to stretch and hobbling part of the course, I crossed the finish line in 2:08:54, (9:50 average pace) which is a PR. My IT band hurts like hell. Karen D carried Becky. She’s going to try to “dry her out” after her wild Bloomsday adventure ( which if you haven’t seen it yet is chronicled at http://www.wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/becky.html )

We (Michael, Phyllis, Deborah, Wendy, Laurie, Pat and I) had a fun dinner at Café Allegro.

The race had many more participants than expected. The lines for the check in and bathrooms were longer than expected. By the time we got our numbers and VERY COOL Brooks technical fabric shirts, we had to line up and get ready to start the race. It was very crowded at the start due to narrow trails being inundated by 1,200 Hippie Chicks (some of whom didn’t know that walkers should line up at the back and faster runners at the front). After the 1^st mile we got spread out. There were some fabulous costumes.

I was amazed at all the strong, beautiful fit women in this race: young, old, tall, short thin, plump and everything in between. Some of the amazons at the front of the pack were awe inspiring (I need to work a bit harder at the gym)

Poor Pat learned that I’m anal about having “my space” in a race. I kept zigging and zagging through and around people to find my “buffer zone” and kept dragging her with me. I don’t know what my problem was, but I couldn’t stay at a 10-11 minute mile pace to save my life, especially when I felt like attacking the hill. At mile 3, I tripped on a tree root and went down to my hands and knees. I could hear gasps and “oh my god” noises coming from behind me. Terrified that I might be trampled, I bounced back up without missing a beat, and realized that I had tweaked the right ankle (hey at least it wasn’t the left one like last week) and didn’t dare look to see if my knees were bleeding (I wasn’t the only one who fell during the race and there were “bleeders”) Now the interesting thing about my fall was that Pat told me on the way home that it’s common for people that she runs with to have “accidents” (beware).

The course (rolling hills with two short sharp steep ones) was two loops, with part of the trail “out and back” so we got to see everyone. On my first trip back I saw Phyllis, who was doing the ¼ marathon walk. She looked awesome. Pat and I ran with a girl named Jennifer for a while. She had a great Hippie outfit on including a peace sign on her butt and the phrase “Boobs Not Bombs” on her tie-dyed T-Shirt.

TMI ALERT: I never got to change my tampon (what a stupid time to have my period) just before the race like I had planned because we couldn’t get near the bathroom. I’ll pee in the woods (and did) but I wasn’t going to do that without a trash can. At about mile 5 I realized that I had a “problem” Luckily, I had decided to wear the black shorts rather than the purple ones (I just sat on a plastic bag on the way home). Someone could make a lot of money manufacturing tampons for runners. Instead of “regular”, “super” and “super plus” they could be “5K” “10K” and “Half Marathon”

I looked at my watch after the ½ way point and realized that I was running a 9:00 something pace which was way too darn fast. At about mile 6 my hips started to hurt, at mile 7 I stopped to stretch, at mile 8 I didn’t think I was going to make it through the race. I realized that I probably wasn’t fully recovered from the hills at Bloomsday the week before. At mile 9, things loosened back up a bit and I decided that I was tight but not injured and was determined to PR (I ran Victoria in 2:32:45 and was hoping for 2:20:00)

At mile 12, I looked at my watch and realized that even with the time I had lost that I stood a chance of finishing in not only under 2:20:00, but under 2:10:00. I couldn’t imagine running a race of that distance at a sub 10 minute mile pace. Toward the end, I discovered that we didn’t go straight into the finish, but back down then up a sharp steep hill. I was afraid that I wasn’t going to make it. As I got back up on level ground, I saw an older, larger woman who was doing the ¼ marathon in front of me heading to the finish. I also watched the clock ticking precariously close to 2:10:00 (it took us 45 seconds to get to the start line so clock time was off) She didn’t seem to know which way she was going to go so I yelled “ON YOUR RIGHT” and slid into the finish line sideways like a manic crab on speed. My clock time was 2:09:30 (ish), watch time 2:08:54

A MAJOR PR !!! I had taken almost 2 minutes per mile off my pace from Victoria which was in mid October.

We didn’t get to stop by the cabin to hang out with Michael, Phyllis, Deborah, Wendy and the Karens because Laurie had to get to the airport and my IT band was killing me (down to the knee by now that the hip was loosened up). I could barely walk and need to get back to Sue’s house.

I’m on some serious Naproxyn and ice right now. Tomorrow is a rest day, and I’ll be taking it easy (no hills or speed work) until the Bolder Boulder (CO) 10K, which is fairly flat and due to the altitude (5,545 feet) I won’t be able to run hard enough to hurt my body (I’ll faint or puke first). My next hard race will be the “Sound to Narrows 12K June 14^th (hills from hell).

Short Report: Bloomsday ROCKS !!! This is the BEST race I have run yet (even considering that 50,000 runners are packed like sardines for the 1st 3 miles), I am going back next year!!! Even with a crushed toe and a twisted ankle (to be explained in the long report) I ran fast enough to qualify to be in the yellow (first) wave again next year. I made it up “Doomsday Hill” without walking and passed people the entire way up that hill. Long Report: Did I mention that Bloomsday ROCKS!!! ? Oh yes, and “Becky’s Big Bloomsday Adventure” is chronicled on a special web page at http://www.wildcelticrose.net/lisasplace/becky.html Up until 8:00 AM this morning it was questionable as to whether I was going to be able to run this race at all. On Friday night, we had a big Beltaine (May Day) celebration at our Unitarian Church; while leading a very energetic spiral dance, I was accidentally stepped on by another dancer (whom I would not let anyone tell I was hurt, she would have felt awful). My 2nd toe on my left foot was smashed and purple and my toe ring slid down and cut my nail bed (bloody yucky mess). I was afraid it was broken, but it’s not. Ice, elevation, ibuprofen and Epsom salts took care of it as best could be expected and I wore sandals to drive in the next day. If it had been a big toe, I’d have been out. A pinky wouldn’t have been much better. Good thing that the 2nd toe isn’t good for much. Saturday afternoon, while walking down the sidewalk, not paying attention, I stepped wrong and twisted/rolled my left ankle outward. (not a good weekend for that foot). We’ve all done it, but I was really upset that I had done it the day before a race that meant so much to me. I walked a mile back to the hotel iced it, took Ibuprofen, elevated it, and didn’t do my planned 3 mile run. I hoped for the best, knowing that I wouldn’t know until morning if I could run or not. I was going to be REALLY sad if I didn’t. At Bloomsday, shirts are awarding ONLY to finishers. There was a good chance that I was going to miss the challenge of the hill AND come away empty handed. Now I know how we all feel about running injured: (stupid don’t do it) I was a medic for 13 years and know a bit about accessing and treating injuries. The things I checked for before even trying to stretch or do a warm up run this morning were: Was it swollen? Was it discolored? Was it tender to the touch? Was my range of motion impaired? Did putting weight on it make it hurt more? Did walking make it hurt more? Was it weak or unstable? Did running make it hurt more? Did I feel that I needed tape, a bandage or ibuprofen to run? The answer to all of this was “NO”, The only thing that hurt it was twisting/rolling my ankle to the outside (which I was determined NOT to let happen) So, this morning, I lined up with 50,000 of my new best friends to run what is billed as one of the world’s largest road races and to face the infamous “Doomsday Hill”. This race was a big deal to me. Last year at this time, I was out in Spokane for a Watershed Management Conference. I wasn’t a runner yet. I was just starting to get back in shape and “might” have done like a mile and a half by that point. The thought of 7 ½ miles and that hill was overwhelming. I saw coverage of the race (which was to be run the following week) on the local news station, saw the community support, saw the “Joy of Running” sculpture in the park, and saw how much fun everyone had (more than half of the entrants walk). I told myself that I wanted to come back and do it someday (little did I know that between then and the next (this) year, I’d have done a marathon). Once I got to the starting corral for my wave (yellow is the first wave, the elites line up just ahead of us) I got really scared. I have run crowded races before (Seattle is known for BIG races down NARROW streets) and am normally very good and zig-zagging in and out of tightly packed crowds to pass/avoid while running (an acquired skill, let me tell you). I knew that I didn’t dare allow myself ANY lateral movement at all, or I’d risk seriously tweaking my ankle and possibly going down (only to be trampled by the 40,000 runners behind me.) I was also flat afraid of getting kicked, tripped, or just flat run over. I was so proud of qualifying for the yellow wave, and now it seemed like a very scary place to be. I decided to just do my best to be careful, watch my footing, and go for it (slowly). Since I was close to the front, I got to the starting line in around 44 seconds. As we moved down Riverside Drive, in a mass of humanity, I saw the 2nd seed and corporate runners merging into our group from one block up. The sight of these two crowds merging was awesome (and scary with a twisted ankle) The crowds, volunteers and residents are amazing. One reporter wrote in the local paper. “If you live in Spokane you have to run Bloomsday. If you can’t run, walk. If you can’t walk, volunteer. If you can’t volunteer, cheer. If you can’t cheer, get out of town, you’re taking up pavement.” This town LOVES runners. As we passed the Catholic Church the priest was out on the steps (in what looked to be his good robe waving and cheering us on) A block or so down a guy was playing bagpipes on his balcony. Cheers, posters, flags, live bands (some sponsored, some in people’s front yards) were everywhere. There was the “Giant Ass Drum Corp” who were playing 5 gallon buckets (they sounded awesome), Native American Pow Wow dancers, mascots, unofficial support stops. It was amazing. One of the funniest things I saw was someone dancing around in a 12’ tall vulture suit near the top of Doomsday Hill. We were packed like sardines for the first 3 miles (expected this). At about mile 1.5, I thought I had made a mistake. I stepped on an overfilled/repaired pothole and the ankle rolled out just a bit. I got a short, sharp twinge, but it actually felt better to run it out. I was lucky. The pain went away completely within the next half mile. I watched my feet better after that close call. We had several significant hills and then, there it was just before mile 5. The infamous “Doomsday Hill” that I had come to conquer. I remembered seeing the news footage the previous year and so many people walking the hill, sucking wind. It was about a 25% grade (which isn’t that big considering where I run every weekend) but that puppy is LOOOOOONG. I watched hundreds (maybe thousands) of people head up the hill many of which slowed to a shuffle or walk. It seemed to go on forever. Luckily, a lot of Spokane residents know that this is where the runners need support and they showed up in force. I knew that if I kept a reasonable pace and didn’t slow down that I could do it. The trouble is, people were stopping to walk in the middle, too tired to move to the side. I knew that if I lost my momentum, I was toast. I devised a wicked, devious trick to avoid this. Remembering how much I hate “breathers” pacing me, I turned it to my advantage. I became a “breather”, not just a “breather”, but a “grunter” and a “groaner”. When someone would slow in front of me (usually 3-4 abreast), I’d start breathing, grunting and groaning. The sound was apparently so pathetic and/or gross) that they would make just enough room for me to get by. I got to the top, told the vulture “Not this time pal” waved to the television cameras and proceeded to make up for lost time. A woman I was talking to at mile 4 told me, “Take the time to turn around at the top of the hill, the sight is amazing. She was right, miles and miles of walkers and runners snaking through the valley and across the river. Some of which started a half an hour after our wave. I couldn’t see the end. I need to pick up the pace, I had a mile and a half to go and since the 1st 3 miles was really slow due to the crowds and the hill wasn’t all that fast (although I ran the whole thing), I had my eye on the “prize” which was to do it in less than 1:12:00 which is the cut off to qualify for the yellow wave again next year. If I could do that, then I felt that I actually belonged there. I blew past the last water stop at mile 6 ½. My lungs were burning, I was dizzy and my knees weren’t all that happy, but I kicked it up a notch. People were screaming, “You guys are almost there, keep going.” One man was even on the corner yelling “Thank You” (this town caters to visitors who run this race). When I saw the finish line, I realized that for the first time, I had NO kick left. Even at the Seattle Marathon, I kicked at the finish. I was spent. I looked at my watch; I could still make it if I could keep the pace (which was questionable). I then realized that my watch time wasn’t any good. This was a hand timed race so I looked at the finish clock in a panic. I crossed the line at 1:11:12 on my watch and 1:11:56 on the clock. I had broken 1:12:00 and the 9:40 pace required to qualify for the yellow wave next year (I did 9:33). I was a “real Bloomie” I was darn proud to pick up that shirt and more important. I was NOT injured. The expo was awesome, the pasta feed was awesome. The entire weekend was awesome !!! We NEED to have a penguin encounter at Bloomsday next year (They encourage walkers). This race is a MUST DO. The website is http://www.bloomsdayrun.org. It’s always the 1st Sunday of May.

I went down to Olympia to run the Spring Fitness 8 MILE run today. My legs felt like rubber and I was fatigued all week, so I almost didn't go and I almost took the race director's offer of doing a 5K instead of 8 miles The course was out and back and the first part is entirely up hill. I'm glad I do weekly runs at Pt. Defiance. When I got to the 1 mile marker, I realized that I was running a faster than my 5K pace and wouldn't be able to hold that long especially on the hills. I slowed down, but was still at my 5K pace at the 5K turn around. The 5K, 8 Mile and Half Marathon all started together and I ended up roughly in the middle completely alone. No breathers, no spitters. I ran the race, serenely alone. The best I was hoping for was 10 minute miles, and didn't think I could do that as bad as I had felt all week. I would have been thrilled to have done that. When I got to the 8 mile turnaround point, I was well below that. WOW !!! I cruised downhill back to state park dodging logging trucks and enjoying the snow that was trying to fall. I crossed the finish line at 1:14:44, which was way faster than I had anticipated. I have my first "Overall Winner" trophy. WaHoo !!!

Short Version – no rain during the race, well over 10,000 (up to 15,000) runners, really narrow streets/tunnels, legs back and hips did not like the warm up run after the trail race the day before, lined up in the middle of the first (competitive) wave and still passed people the entire time, forgot to stop my watch but even counting the time on my watch when I was turning in my chip I finally broke the 9:00 min mile barrier. My pace was 8:something WAHOO !!! Long Version – A friend was kind enough to drive me up to Seattle so that I could have a beer after the dash. I was bummed out that I couldn’t find any green running gear and didn’t have anything goofy to wear (goofy costumes, body painting, etc… are encouraged). As soon as I got to the start area I discovered that Henry Winehardts (one of the sponsors) was giving away the big, goofy green foam hats that at a distance looked like dragons or lizards, but were in actuality BOARS, complete with razor backs, curly tails and tusks. Printed on each side was, “I’m Irish, Kiss my Snout”. At the starting line we kept asking each other, “Is my snout straight?”. I did a short warm up run around the Seattle Center and realized that I might have bitten off more than I can chew racing two days in a row. I was most definitely a bit sore and wobbly. The race is so big that it starts in waves. The first wave is “green” and is for competitive runners. The red wave is next and can be timed or not but doesn’t count towards competition. Then the yellow wave is for walkers and pub crawlers. I lined up in the middle of the green wave (which was a least 5,000 people, I think). The horn blew, and we were off (well as “off” as you can get in narrow city streets with thousands of people. I quickly discovered that I should have lined up a bit closer to the front that I did, as I started passing people immediately (and I start out slow). It took several blocks to actually get to anything that resembled a run. We were packed in tight like green sardines. As the first part of the wave went under the first small tunnel, there was a deafening roar. As I got closer, I realized that everyone was screaming and yelling their heads off in the tunnel. It was hilarious. Unfortunately, the exit to the tunnel is uphill and it slowed folks down. Once back on the streets, a guy near me was trying to keep up the yelling… “Who here is Irish?!” he’d yell. To be followed by, “”Who here had Bailey’s for breakfast?” It was too funny. After a few narrow turns on city streets, we hit the infamous Battery Street Tunnel. There is NO air in that place, and filled with thousands of hot sweaty runners breathing all the oxygen, it was even worse (hot and stuffy) than the race I ran in July (where the runners were more spread out because it came at the end of the race). I practically sprinted through that thing to get back to fresh air (one quick “whoop” was all I was good for, I needed to conserve air). Once we got up on the viaduct, I realized that I wasn’t going to get a negative split. The start of the race was a crawl due to crowds and I had tried to make up time in the middle. I slowed down my pace until we came off of the viaduct. I’m normally weird about running fast downhill (had a hyperextension injury once, don’t want another one) but I practically flew down that thing, passing a ton of people. At the bottom of the viaduct was the 3 mile marker. I looked at my watch and realized that for the first time on a run of longer than 2 miles, I was running the 8:XX pace (I’ve never done better than 9-something before). I started my kick towards the finish line, then realized that it wasn’t a 5K, it was a 3 ½ miler and then backed off a bit. When I got into better kicking range, I opened it up with what little I had left and crossed the line. I was looking for my friend (it sure is nice to have people who cared enough to be waiting at the finish line for me) and forgot to stop my watch. When I finally got to the chip removal area, it said 30:17, so I’m thinking I came in at around 30:00. I won’t know for sure until race results are up. My friend said that I came in quite early in the pack that came in just after the elites. The “Post Dash Bash” was WAY too crowded to enjoy, so after hitting the booths and getting freebies, we went back to the Seattle Center for the Irish Festival, ate lunch, drank beer and listened to Celtic Music. It was a good day. I think, perhaps, that I am no longer a back of the pack runner.

Short version- We decided to rename the race, “Are you LOST” rather than “Are you Nuts?” Mud, fallen trees, a “breather” behind me pacing off of me, got lost 3 times, started out with bruised legs, tweaked knees, and a sacrum that felt like someone had been kicking me (no going back to that sports therapist), got a nasty side stitch but ran through it. 1:06:25, only 2:19 off of my “road” 10K time. Had we not gotten lost, I could have hit my goal of a 10K in under an hour-go figure. Long version- I had serious anxiety problems going into this race. It’s been a tough year physically and I’ve been completely off my training almost as much as I’ve been on my training due to the flu, cold, UTI and then the mother of all migraines. I was more nervous coming into this race than the Seattle Marathon (go figure). I knew that it drew “real runners” (of which I am not one) so I was really worried about coming in last. We had to park down at Owen Beach (If you’ve never been to Pt. Defiance it’s at the bottom of a big, long, nasty, yucky hill that left everyone out of breath before they got to the starting line) and hike up to the start line (twice counting taking the shirt and goodie bag back to the truck) I called that warm up and did my stretching after those two trips. Most of the women I saw in the parking lot were 20-somethings, so I thought, “Well, maybe I’ll make a decent showing. I might be the only “old lady”. When I got to the registration, I saw “Iron Woman”. She is in my division (masters); I’d put her at 45-50. She has legs of steel, NO body fat, muscles everywhere, a butt you could bounce a quarter off of and looks like she eats nails for breakfast. This did NOT help my anxiety problem. As we were lining up for the race, they called out over the loud speaker that all “masters” runners (read old), needed to have a pink X marked on their race number. Great. We get MARKED. Some really scary/fast looking women appeared out of the woodwork and my fear of coming in dead last returned. I lined up in the middle of the pack and got passed by a few folks. The first ½ mile of the race was on the road so that we could “sort ourselves out” before we hit the single track where passing would be a problem. I was passed by a few folks (I’m a firm believer in negative splits and going out slow) but didn’t let it bother me. I knew I was off training and that starting out too fast would leave me with nothing at the end. Then “IT” hit (why is there always an “it” when I run a race?) The dreaded side “stitch” I have not had one of those since High School and have no idea why I had it today (gee, being sick, hormonally off balance from the bad BCP experiment, coming down off the mother of all migraines, being “injured” by my now former sports therapist?) I wanted to curl up in the fetal position on the side of the trail and cry, but chose to press on it, concentrate on my breathing and keep going. 25 minutes later, it finally went away. I tried dodging the worst of the mud puddles only to almost land on my butt. After that, I just ran straight through the middle (I wore old shoes for a reason). We had two really wicked wind storms and there were sticks, branches and whole trees across the trail everywhere. The trail wasn’t marked well. One set of flags lead to the edge of the cliff. Myself and 3 women who were pacing off of me chose one of two trails (they all end up in the same place so we weren’t going to get too lost) and were only off track for ½ mile or so (Likely we took the long route). The water station was set up at the 5K point and I realized that I was only 1:45 off of my 5K time. I actually had a chance to do this in under an hour if I could pull it together enough to run a negative split. Having been a hurdler in high school came in handy as I was able to hurdler over several fallen trees, but the landings in the mud were a bit scary. I had a “breather” on my tail (why do I always end up with a breather/spitter?). I asked her several times if she wanted to pass and she said “No”. UGH !!! Finally, I pulled over so she’d have to go past. The other two women pacing me kept a respectful distance. Unfortunately this woman would speed down the hills, then walk up them and I kept running up on her butt (by this point being a “breather” myself). Finally, we came to a HUGE fallen Cedar tree that she couldn’t climb over quickly (we wasted a LOT of time there). She let me go after standing around like a dork for what seemed like forever and I sprinted up the hill to get away from her and never saw her again. I was re-reminded what oxygen debt felt like after that and backed off the pace. I came up on another woman (we were both lost) at another poorly marked portion of trail and she said, “I’ll pace off of you.” and down the trail we went. I lost her after about 5 minutes. I crossed the road, only to find that I had been on the wrong (and of course LONGER) stretch of trail (as were about 20-30 people behind me) and found myself back on track. I finally got some solo time and finally felt “flow” at about the 5 mile mark and was enjoying being in the woods, although with all the twists and turns I was really disoriented) When my watch was pushing an hour, I knew I had to be close to the finish. I came around the corner to find a group standing at a trail intersection not knowing which way to go. “Great”. I chose to go to the right, while others were checking out the trail to the left (if I stopped at that point, I’d have never started up again). One kid had gone to the right and yelled, “It’s this way!” I had chosen correctly and knowing that I was getting close to the finish, kicked it up a notch. I passed 10 people, including some “masters” women, so I KNOW I did not come in last. I kicked like crazy up the last hill to the finish and although I felt like crud, I think I looked pretty good coming in. I yelled, “I got lost 3 times”, everyone laughed and someone else shouted, “We renamed the race the “Are You Lost” Trail Run. Everyone got lost, everyone got muddy, everyone had fun. We ate oranges and “hammer gels” and went home right before it started to rain, and I wasn’t even close to last. Tomorrow is the St, Patty’s Day Dash 5K. I’m not too worried. I hurt, but not that much more than before the race, and heck, the “Dash” in Seattle is more of a “tradition” than a race. It’s downhill to a pub :-)

*** sorry, no short report, it would spoil the surprise It was in the low to mid 20's (f) with no sun in sight, this morning at the start of our race south of Olympia WA. Even the elite runners were having a difficult time with the cold (and it was a humid cold). I picked up my race number and went back to the truck to try to stay warm; the tights weren't cutting it. About 1/2 hour before the race, I got out and did a 10 minute warm up run. It wasn't too bad in the trees but the breeze off the lake was bone chilling. I had to jump around like crazy at the starting line to keep from tightening up the leg muscles I had worked so hard to loosen up. The 5K started 10 minutes late (that's the way it usually works out), so my warm up ended up just leaving me cold and stiff. At the turnaround point for the 1 mile race, I realized two things. The first is that it probably wasn't all that smart that I did my 5 mile hill filled run at Pt. Defiance the day before, and that it wouldn't have been a bad idea to have gone through my ski gear and brought my neoprene face mask. The air burned my nose and lungs, and I just didn't seem able to get my lungs completely filled up. by mile 1, I was totally miserable, but was determined that my time was not going to be worse than at New Year's after being out the night before and only getting 4 hours sleep. Never mind that I just got over the flu, I didn't want a bad time and I certainly wasn't going to quit even though I felt like crap. On the first uphill, I noticed that a "breather" was pacing me from behind. The noise was distracting (and kinda gross) so I would speed up and go around someone to get some distance and he'd stick right with me (doesn't this guy know that I have NO clue how to run a 5K? Why follow me?) I finally lost him on one of the bigger hills, only to have him replaced by a breather who spits. Not just spit, but giant sticky loogies that you could hear slap the ground (now I'm cold, tired, can't breath and want to puke). I lost him on the next big hill. I was with the main part of the pack (somewhere along the line on these shorter races I graduated from the back of the pack) at the water station, which was also the turn around point was overwhelmed and backed up. I lost a lot of time trying to get around folks and turned around. We needed to cross the street because they don't stop traffic for this race, and there were too many folks still behind us to go back that way. We lost a lot of time waiting for traffic to go past so that it would be safe to cross the road. I looked at my watch 14:30. I had lost time from my Resolution Run on Jan 1 and unless I ran a good negative split, I wasn't going to match or beat that time. I could have sworn that it was all uphill to the turnaround, until that is, I turned around and it seemed all uphill on the way back. I do remember one big long downhill that I slowed down for (one hyper-extension injury will teach you to be careful on the downhills) On the next uphill, I passed an old guy (hey, I was going to take what I could get at this point) and had my sights set on the ONE person who had passed me the entire race. The big guy in the baggy tights. I tried to speed up a little (while heeding a warning not to risk my IT band) to catch him; I realized quickly that because of cold, fatigue and recently having the flu, if I kept up at the pace I was at, I wouldn't finish running and would have to stop and walk. I let him go. I did manage to pass two women that I thought were in my age division and headed up the last hill into the park. I thought to myself, "Hey, maybe I'll at least place in my division, I've never done that before." As I rounded the last corner towards the finish, the race director yelled out my time and said, "Way to go Lisa". I realized that I had just missed my 5K time and was heartbroken. "Way to go? I ran worse today than after a night out at a New Years eve party." I crossed the finish line at 29:05, 20 seconds off of my only other 5K time of 28:45. It was a harder course, colder, and I was recovering from the flu, but that was small consolation. I went back to my truck and put on as much clothing as I could find and went back to the race area for chili (before I started running, I could not imagine eating chili for breakfast and liking it). I was sitting with the two women whom I passed at the end and discovered that they were in the division below mine (35-39). They got 1st and 2nd places in their divisions. Then Bob called out "Women's 40-44, 1st place, Lisa Lawrence." I about died. I didn't even hear who had gotten 2nd and 3rd (lot's of squealing at our table). I was too amazed to have been given a medal for something other than "just finishing". I didn't cry at Victoria, didn't cry at Seattle, but almost cried at this silly little 5K, in the woods in the middle of nowhere. So now, after a hot bath (bad, I know but I was hypothermic by the time I got home) and lunch, I'm still glowing.

What a way to start the year !!! This is going to be an annual event for me. I actually got out of bed when my alarm went off at 7:00 AM (stayed out till 1:00 AM) and made it out the door in time to get to my race (the "Resolution Run" 5K.) In typical Pacific Northwest fashion, it was POURING rain. I didn't care. That's what my new tights and running jacket are for (BTW... Pearl Izumi products ROCK) I picked up my race number, did some light stretching and then headed out to the track for a one mile warm up... Came back, did some more stretching and started to line up with the other folks who were all commenting on the fact that "normal" people wouldn't be out racing in the pouring rain on New Year's morning, they'd be in a nice warm bed. I looked around me and realized that I was surrounded by faster looking people than me, so I moved towards the back of the pack (the front of the back anyway). A couple of women looked at me, then moved back. That really cracked me up. I don't even really consider myself a "real" runner yet, and all of a sudden people look at me as if I am one (and the Seattle Marathon shirt wasn't even showing). I had no idea what my 5K pace would be, but I knew it was supposed to be faster than I run. I kind of skipped over that distance when I started running races. I looked around me and saw lots of really fast looking people and got intimidated. I knew that I was still recovering from Seattle (the guy who gave me my race number who had also run it asked if I was recovered yet, there's that "brutal" thing again) and I wanted to be really careful with my tight hamstring and IT band (which my massage therapist says is still tight but not as bad as last week) so all I really cared about was finishing uninjured. If I could do it in under 30 minutes all the better. The gun went off, and we had to make a 3/4 loop around the track to start out. I was determined to be conservative, but found myself passing people right away, especially when we hit the street (I continued to pass people over the entire 5K distance). The looks on the faces of drivers who were faced with several hundred runners taking over their streets at 9:00 AM on New Year's Day was a riot (traffic control was excellent). I kept steady and didn't push too hard. At about the 2 mile mark I could hear breathing behind me. This guy in a bright orange jacket was trying to catch me. He'd get just behind me, then I'd pull out ahead and fall back into pace, I'd hear his breathing again and do the same thing. This went on for almost the entire last mile until he finally lost steam. We rounded the last corner to the High School and when I hit the track (for another 3/4 loop), I stayed steady until the last 100 meters and kicked it out a bit. I finished in 28:45, well under my 30 minute goal (and even came in in the top 10 of my age group at #9)and didn't push hard enough that I aggravated the hamstring or IT band. At the post race social a woman walked up to me and said, "I was pacing you the whole way, but you totally blew me out when you hit the track." I was stunned. I might actually be turning into a "real" runner after all. I even ate chili for breakfast and liked it.

07/27/02 Seafair Torchlight 8K race, Seattle WA - 50:46 09/08/02 Bank to Bay 10K race, Tacoma WA - 1:04:09 10/13/02 Royal Victoria Half Marathon, BC - 2:32.42 12/01/02 Seattle Marathon, Seattle WA - 6:18:58

Short version: Had a great pasta dinner with other Penguins at Buca De Beppos. The weather was good. The hills (the worst of which start at mile 20 and end just past mile 25 when you’re good and hammered) were as brutal as I’d been told. There was also a LOT of concrete. I was way off my time. My pace was fine (I did take 3 walk breaks of about 5 minutes each at mile 21, 22, 24), but I spent a lot of time in (and in line for) the bathrooms, so it took me over 6 hours. . Who cares? I may have been sore and tired, but I managed a decent sprint into the stadium (which even the announcer commented on). I have a medal. My legs are killing me, my feet are hamburger, my non chafing sports bra tore me up and I still don’t know what’s going on with my intestines. Whoever designed this course is a masochist. Seattle was probably NOT the smartest/easiest first marathon choice (no one told me it was considered “brutal” until after I signed up and then they just laughed at me), but what the heck. I have a medal and achieved my “Mid Life Crisis Goal”. It starts with dinner the night before - I met Penguins Pat, Tom and Mike (met Todd and Karen G at the expo and Tanya aka Little Lu Lu at the finish) at Buca De Beppos for dinner. Now Buca De Beppos is noted for its tacky, loud atmosphere and have heard it described as a Chuck E Cheese for adults. They weren’t that far off the mark. We were treated to HUGE portions served family style of excellent Italian food (confirmed excellent by a real live Italian in our group) One order of Spaghetti Marinara and one of Eggplant Parmesan more than fed 4 hungry penguins. We also had a very nice salad, brochetta and really awesome cannolis <sic> in chocolate sauce for dessert. Our motto is “Penguins are eaters with running disorders.” A Penguin who shall remain nameless was trying to goad Tom and I into drinking more than one glass of wine, we didn’t fall for it. Said penguin, finished off our bottle then split another bottle with the person who didn’t like Merlot (it was only ordered so no one had to go without) We got to see the Pope’s table and will try to get a large enough group so we can sit there and play “spin the pope” next time. Pat and I (on advice from several folks) checked out the men’s room, much to the chagrin of the guy behind us who really needed to go, and the poor guy in there that Pat yelled “FINISH” at, so that we could check it out before the camera batteries died. I also agreed to run the “Hood to Coast” relay with them in August. My friends Barb and Robert drove me up, since I wasn’t sure what kind of shape I’d be in to drive back to Tacoma. We lined up at the Seattle Center, in front of “Experience Music Project” (EMP) which has to be the ugliest piece of architecture in the world. Starbucks was handing out tiny peppermint mochas. They were yummy. I got to have my picture taken with the Ivar’s clam (famous tap dancing mascot of a local seafood chain). The whole event had over 11,000 participants, 2,000 of which ran the full marathon. I started out in the back of the pack and stayed there. Of all the races I’ve been in (woo hoo all 4 of them) this had the least number casual or first time runners (gee, could it be that “brutal” thing?”) It was pretty cold at the start, so I kept a really slow pace to warm up, way slower than normal because I’d been warned that I had to “save it for the end or the hills would take me out”. No waves were crashing over the I-90 floating bridge. The sky started to clear and the water was a beautiful blue. In the middle of Lake Union, I realized that I needed to pee, BAD. I also realized that I had passed two sets of port-a-potties because the lines were too long and now I was out in the middle of a concrete bridge without a bush in sight. I thought I was gonna pee my pants. When I got to the tunnel at the end, there was (SURPRISE) a long nasty line. I started doing the potty dance, when some old guy wanted to lean on my shoulder to stretch. I had to warn him that if I stopped moving I might pee on his shoes. He leaned on me anyway. I ditched my throw away sweat shirt because I was getting hot. I felt great heading back across the bridge. At about mile 8 “it” hit. I realized that my bladder was not going to be the only “over active” bodily function I was going to have to be dealing with. I thought I was going to have a really bad and really embarrassing problem, but finally the most beautiful port-a-potty I had ever seen came into view on shore. I ended up having to stop at every station (every two miles) to deal with various bodily functions (with long lines it took a BIG chunk out of my time). I was properly (by the book) hydrated, but I suspect that the caffeine in my power gels it why I had to pee so often. I have no clue what set off my intestines. At mile 12 I realized that I had not tied my right shoe tight enough and that I was developing a hot spot on the arch of my foot. I stopped at the first aid table and slathered as much Vaseline as I could on the blister, which was really flat and looked like it might have popped. At the 13.2 (half marathon mark) I realized that I had lost 15 minutes time with all my stops and was going to be lucky to finish this puppy (the worst of which was yet to come) in 6 hours, more or less the 5 ½ my half marathon time indicated I could do it in (the half was on a much easier course). I felt good though. At mile 15, I hit “flow” I felt great and was so warm that I had to lose the cool max top and tie it around my waist. (felt “great” aside from the blister, need for frequent potty breaks and some nasty underarm chafing from my sports bra) and picked up the pace until mile 18. At mile 18, I had to remind myself to “save it for the hills” and kept a very conservative pace to mile 20. I stopped for a potty break (surprise), stretched and headed up the hills. It felt better to jog slowly up the hills than to run (walking tends to pull and stretch things that don’t feel good). I never really hit the infamous “wall” that we all hear so much about. I had religiously taken energy gels every 45 minutes and had plenty of glycogen in my muscles. I did however start to have tendons, muscles and ligaments begin to complain. I took some short walk breaks at the top of the worst hills in case lactic acid build up had anything to do with it, which I don’t think it did. At mile 23, my blister exploded (I’m NOT exaggerating here when I took my socks off there was pieces of skin everywhere), I swear, I felt like I was an inch shorter after that puppy went off and my shoe was incredibly warm, wet and squishy. I wasn’t sure if it was blister juice or blood and at that point didn’t want to know. I also felt like all my toenails were going to come off (those hills wreak havoc on your feet) Mile 24 was a beautiful site, but the space needle looked SO far away. Mile 25 and the stupid space needle didn’t look any closer. Mile 26 and I had to stop at the bathrooms again. By this time, my feet were on fire, my tendons and ligaments hurt so bad I thought I might have to limp rather than run in. I rounded the corner to the Seattle Center and saw the stadium. When I saw the finish line, I let loose in a sprint; I had been on my feet running (or in the potties) for something like 6 hours and 15 minutes (what kind of lunatic does that?). It was time to stop. Two more friends, Jenn and “Lisa the Little Love Goddess” had also arrived to cheer me on, which really meant a lot to me. I managed not to fall over, not to puke and (other than tendons, ligaments and feet) felt a LOT better than I did after the half marathon in October. I wandered around, slammed a power aid, took some pictures with other penguins (Todd and Little Lu Lu) and walked “the longest mile” back to the car. One good thing about having such a slow time, it will be next to impossible not to improve on it. I’m going to have to find some energy gels that don’t have caffeine which should take care of the peeing problem. I don’t know what set off my intestines but they’re still kind of excited (how’s that for TMI?). The sad thing is… I WILL do this again. I want to do this again. I think I’ve lost my mind. Thanks to my wonderful friends and chosen family who supported me though this, sent me positive energy from home (it helped) and those that came with (and to Molly for the post marathon candle). You all are great and I love you. I’m going to go ice my legs now.

Two hours, Thirty Two Minutes and Forty Two Seconds. 2:32:42, which was an 11:39 min mile pace (not fast, but not bad). I was 2,739 out of 2,963, which means I beat 224 people (who’s counting the ones ahead anyway?). And, I never stopped or walked, not even for potty breaks or at the water stations. I’ve gotten very good at drinking on the run. I actually managed to finish my first half marathon in Victoria BC. I wasn’t sure I was even going to start. After being sick last week and not eating for drinking for almost 3 days, I wasn’t in the best of physical health. I slammed carbohydrates and fluids for the 36 hours preceding the race, but didn’t get my electrolyte balance back to where it should be. I had a really nasty case of a benign (no underlying heart problem/not dangerous) cardiac arrhythmia (palpitations normally brought on by stress/too much caffeine or a significant electrolyte imbalance) while I was lined up at the start. I didn’t line up at the back of the pack this time. I lined up at the back of the MIDDLE of the back. I graduated myself. Even if I had wanted to quit, which I didn’t, I was packed into the starting chutes with almost 3,000 other people. I got swept up in the start and thought I was going to faint before I hit the first mile marker. Out of what was probably NOT my better judgment, I kept going (and going and going and going). I was NOT going to quit before I even started on something that I had trained this hard for, not to mention, getting up at 5:45 AM to drive 2 ½ hours, take a 95 minute ferry ride on what were the biggest swells I have ever seen (I guess I don’t get seasick because it was ROUGH out there), and spend the better part of the morning waiting in line at customs/immigration. We did see tufted puffins (first time I’ve seen them outside of the zoo) and dolphins, no orcas though :-( At mile three I met another woman who was running my pace and spent the next 10 miles talking to her to distract myself. I slammed energy gels every 30 minutes and took in Gatorade at every water stop. The out and back course, although billed as “flat” was a steady uphill (not steep but sustained) the entire way. I was dizzy at times, it was hard to breathe and my intestines felt like they were tied in knots because of not eating for 3 days and then carbo loading. How I got through the race without stopping, walking or bolting for one of the bathrooms I don’t know. I didn’t have any “kick” left at the end, but did manage to straighten up and not grimace like I was in pain (I was). I almost fell over when I had to put my foot on the bench so that they could cut the timing chip off of my shoe, was really dizzy for about an hour, and considered barfing for about the first 10 seconds after finishing, but got over it. As I was finishing, I saw another woman getting wheeled off of the course on a stretcher hooked up to oxygen and IV lines. It was a very sobering sight. The part of the course that went through the residential neighborhood was a riot. One family had “Chariots of Fire” blasting on a stereo system, another had “Queen Victoria” (as authentic as you’ll ever see, but someone said she was actually a drag queen) waving to the participants, and yet another house offered us “biscotti and beer” (for real). I actually drank one of the shot glass sized cups of beer (at that point, a biscotti would have made me hurl), just so that I could say that I was given, and drank a beer while running a race. I didn’t even spill it on myself. At the “one mile to go” marker, a local radio station had a water station set up, and was looping the song, “Running on Empty”. It was cold, but not freezing and pleasant weather to run in. We had sun and were told by the race organizers that we had better weather than the queen got last weekend (that’s what she gets for not coming to watch us). I know that in the first year, you’re not supposed to set time goals, just try to finish upright and not get injured (especially when this is a training race for a full marathon and I didn’t taper), but I was disappointed that I missed breaking 2 ½ hours by just a little over 2 minutes. That was until they (a guy with a cool Australian accent) announced my name over the finish line loud speaker and mentioned a few other things about me. When I signed up for the race, my estimation (you had to put it on the form) was that it would take me 2 hours 45 minutes to finish the race, and I beat that my over 12 minutes. I also beat my last training run of that distance by 10 minutes, and did manage to run faster than 12 minute miles. So I guess, even though I was weak, sick, in bad shape, and could have done better, it’s a PR. The crowd of spectators was not as big as the Seafair Torchlight run (300,000), and there weren’t as many bands as the Bank to Bay, but everyone there was enthusiastic. The volunteers were numerous and friendly and the residents cheered everyone who ran though their neighborhood. We were treated like royalty at the motel, stores and restaurants. Probably the funniest thing was watching everyone on the ferry ride back to the states. Everyone was hobbling, but we all had huge grins on our faces and lots of war stories to tell. The non-runners on the boat wanted to see our medals and thought we were all heroes just for doing it. The half marathon runners got better looking shirts (black long sleeve) and medals than the full marathon runners (blue sweatshirts with a less cool design). The full marathoners kept coming up to us, “Can I see your medal?” A First Nations artist designs the shirts, medals and trophies. Ours were a “Sun Mask” design. VERY cool!!! Victoria BC Rocks !!! In addition to the full and half marathons, they have an 8K run and a kids 1K run. The also have a 6:00 AM (2 hours early) start for those who will walk or take longer than 5 hours for the full marathon, that way, those who need cheering the most aren’t alone on the course after the crowds disperse and things are getting packed up. http://www.royalvictoriamarathon.com <http://www.royalvictoriamarathon.com/> *** on a side note, an American can get IN to Canada without a passport, but despite what the Coho ferry’s web site says, a voter registration card is not proof of citizenship. I looked at the INS guy point blank and said, “So does this mean I can’t go home?” (yeah, I shouldn’t have popped off, but it seemed like a reasonable question and just came out) I got to come home, but not without a lecture.

Bank to Bay 10K 2002Well I made it, without stopping, walking or puking. I didn’t have major anxiety at the start like I did on my first race (8K) in July (all my anxiety was last night thinking that I couldn’t handle all those hills). At no time did I feel like I was going to hyperventilate. We had electronic timing chips for this one, so since my time didn’t start until I crossed the electronic pad at the starting line, I just lined up at the back of the pack where I had plenty of space like a good penguin. Since no one was passing me, I didn’t freak out. I just kept to a slow to moderate pace since the first portion of the race was a sustained downhill and I don’t want to risk a hyper extension injury before the marathon (been there, done that, have the crutches). Sure enough at about mile 1, I started passing people that had started out too quickly, and I didn’t have to speed up to do it. As soon as we got to the bottom of the big hill, we had to go up and over a HUGE bridge overpass. As soon as we recovered from that, we had a second, equally nasty overpass. I was surprised. I cruised right up the hills like they were nothing. I probably could have run a little faster than 10 ½ minute miles, but didn’t want to push it and then bonk before starting up the big hill to the finish. I was determined to run a conservative race and FINISH. After the turn around (this was an out and back course) I was surprised to see how many people I was actually ahead of (not nearly as many as I was behind, but Oh well…) I gulped down a GU (energy gel) at the turn around to prepare my muscles for the hills. I was able to stay on pace and cruised up over the bridges with no trouble. Then there is was… The HILL FROM HELL leading from the “Bay” back to the “Bank”. I just relaxed and cruised up fairly easily passing several people along the way. Once at the top of the hill, there was about a half mile to the finish. Although I didn’t want to run for time for my first 10K, especially one with ugly hills, I decided to see if I could “kick” to the finish. I sped up my gait and my stride actually lengthened naturally just a little bit. It felt good (and looked pretty cool in the reflection of the store front windows). About a block from the start, I started getting dizzy. I kicked to the finish anyway, passed a few more folks and got across the finish, dizzy, but not in any danger of falling down. The down side is, I completely forgot to stop my watch when I crossed. I think I came in at 63 minutes. To me, pulling it (6.2 miles) off in under an hour would have been phenomenal, but I didn’t dare try it and end up bonking. I think I ran roughly 10:20 minute miles. Which is pretty much the pace I ran the 8K (5 miles) in Seattle and the course wasn’t quite as hilly there. I think this means I’m getting better. The official time should be posted Monday or Tuesday. My legs weren’t as rubbery as they were after the Torchlight run in July and I think that’s because of the energy gel. I’m sold on that stuff and will be carrying it on all my long runs and in the half and full marathon. Next stop, Vancouver BC for the half marathon.

I felt awful. Immediately the two people I came with blew out ahead of me ( at the beginning of the 8K race like I was standing still. All I wanted to do was finish and not get scooped up by the wussie car in front of 300,000 people (they had to clear the route to start the Seafair parade so we were required to maintain an 11/min mile pace to stay in the race). I was so nervous at the starting line that I almost hyperventilated and then started to cry when they (my then husband and teen age step- daughter both of whom ditched me at the start)left me in the dust. I felt like an old, broken down, injured, out of shape loser who was going to pass out from anxiety. Heck, I couldn't even keep up with a 13 year old who had been laying around all summer when I'd been working out and training really hard. I didn't see them again until mile 2 1/2 when the course doubled up on it's self heading up the Alaskan Way Viaduct (that was a nasty climb) I waved and thought I might be able to catch them at the top if they slowed down on the big hill (but I was determined to keep my pace and was telling myself the tortoise and the hare story the whole time to keep from quitting) When I got to the top, they were no where to be seen. I just kept my pace, but discovered that a lot of people who started out faster than me were tiring out, and all of a sudden I was passing people right and left (I didn't speed up, I was on my pace) At the end of the race, as agreed upon I went to get my shirt and then headed over to the totem pole which was our prearranged meeting place. They weren't there. I started to cry. Not only was I an old, broken down, injured, out of shape loser, but my "family" cared so little for me that they went for the free ice cream samples and left me standing there all alone. I wasn't a runner, I didn't even like running. I only did this to do something with them, and they didn't appreciate it. My accomplishment had turned into failure; I cried some more. After I got it together, I went to the booth area, and found them walking towards me, ice cream samples in hand. I was thinking a lot of very "not nice things", but managed to stop myself at "Thanks for waiting for me." They gave me a very puzzled look and said, "We just got here." "What do you mean you just got here?" I asked. "You couldn't have waited a little longer for me to finish?" I was starting to tear up again. "No. I mean we just got here, you blew past us on the viaduct, and then we had to walk in the tunnel. We just finished the race, we haven't made it to the shirt area yet." I stood there for a moment, never considering that they had slowed down at the top of the viaduct climb. I was looking WAY out ahead for them. Later, when I looked at the race pictures, I saw where I had passed within 3-4 feet of them and not seen them. "So I'm the jerk who didn't wait?" I asked sheepishly. "It looks that way." they said. I spent the rest of the evening deciding whether I wanted my "crow" BBQ'd or raw. Next time, I'll just run my own race <sheepish grin>