John’s first marathon. We discussed strategy in the days, weeks and months before the event. We had a brief review the night before. I decided to take the early start because my last marathon took 7 hours. John went with the regular start, confident that he could finish in 4 hours.
About a quarter of a mile into my run a woman heading toward the start cheered us on, “You’re almost done!”
I met a lot of interesting people that morning. A couple who had embarked on a weight loss adventure together. The wife, who lost 50ish pounds, looked like she had never seen an extra pound on her body. Her husband, had lost about 170 pounds with the help of gastric bypass surgery. He has taken advantage of his weight loss to get into athletics. He is running marathons, and training for an iron man. He is still a large fellow, probably over 200lbs and 6 feet and an inch or two. They were a very lovely couple. It is great that they have been able to support and motivate each other through this.
After them I ran with a woman who had her last breast cancer operation in March. She started running again in April after a year off. She finished in about 5.5 hours!
I lost her in Point Defiance Park and ran most of the marathon alone after that. I was trying a new strategy. I have been running very slowly (walking pace at times) to avoid pain, but the pain catches me at mile 16 inspite of that. So this time I opted to run a bit faster (still walking pace to some).
The section of the course through Point Defiance is beautiful, we ran along 5 mile drive (approx 5 miles in length), and hilly. I felt fine on the hills, I felt fine on everything! I danced up a hill coming into the mile 13 aid station, they were blasting the blues brothers and were all dressed in suits. I love an aid station with spirit!
Somewhere along 5 mile drive I was passed by the first runners. That was an exciting sight. And first place woman was third over all at that point and she was looking strong. Very inspiring.
The hills were a bit too steep to be called “rolling”, perhaps “rolling mountains”. I really enjoyed the hills though, they were just the right height and frequency to keep things interesting. sure enough mile 16 rolled around and sure enough my knee had things to say. I slowed a bit to quiet it down. I spent the rest of the run, going as fast as my knee would allow.
After doing the math a few ways I realized that John should catch up with me when I had been running for 5 hours. As I got closer and closer to the end I started checking over my shoulder more frequently to see if he was going to catch me. It never happened.
A two (ish) mile downhill lead to the finish. I heard someone yelling, “white coat right behind you!” so I sprinted with everything I had to keep it behind me through the finish…and it was close. But I won. I finished in 5:17...bout an hour forty faster than my last marathon!
John’s mother and sister were at the finish line. They were so excited. But John wasn’t there yet.
We waited, and the wind was strong and cold. My space blanket did little to keep me warm. His sister was making some sort of threats because my lips were turning blue. I was too hypothermic to understand what she was telling me. I pressed my lips together to hide them from her and tied myself up in the space blanket.
John finished just under 5 hours! He was thrilled to be done running. As it turns out all our great planning went out the window. He started to fast and died around mile ten…that’s a long way to drag yourself to the finish line. We dined with the Maniacs after the run but it would take more than a burger and beer to restore him. Not every first marathon is a good experience, but by the next day his mood had improved and he was willing to consider doing another marathon…eventually.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Spokane River Run
When I reserved the camping site for the weekend , the pass was still closed and the weather was cold. making a trip to eastern Washington ill-advised at best. I was completely oblivious to the high potential for failure until a few days prior to the weekend, when I saw the news report informing all that the pass was now opened…
I was surprised at what an active town Spokane is. There were people out running, biking, river rafting, golfing, hiking and rock climbing. I ended up relying on many of these people for directions by the end of the run. The first two, a jogger then a biker, were needed just to get to the race itself. I arrived at the race with about 15 minutes to spare before the start of the race, I had hoped to get there earlier, but after 40 minutes of wrong turns I was happy to make it with any time to spare. It was the first race I have been to that didn’t have a line at the porta-potty…
AND WE WERE OFF…I took my usual approach and fell to the back of the pack. Slow and steady, I was feeling great. I haven’t been running on the trails for a very long time… “O shit, O SHIT!!! I haven’t been trail running since November!!! What was I thinking??!!?!?”
Already the weather was warmer than anticipated, felt like it was mid 60’s at 8:30 am, it promised to be a very hot day. I frequently forget that the forests in Easter Washington are much different than those of Western Washington. The trees are smaller and further apart, they don’t offer nearly the protection from the weather that I was hoping for.
Early on in the race, while running alone through a very quiet, flat part of the course, I heard a twig ’SNAP’. I looked over to find a wall of large men in camouflage with assault rifles slowly advancing towards the trail. Whoa. The race is held on the same weekend as the Army does practice missions in the forest. I am unaware of any other races that are able to offer this sort of entertainment.
I was feeling confident, the hills were tough, but in general the course was manageable. Then the course let loose on me. Hills got steeper in both directions, the trail became narrower, and the gentle forest floor was replaced by rocks. One particularly steep section dropped us into a rocky riverbed. Two arrows pointed me down the river, this must be the treacherous rock portion the race director warned us about. The rocks were big enough that I had to use my hands to climb over some of them, slide down on my bum to get back down to the ground on the other side. run through sand, navigate over unstable, wobbling rocks, and around small bodies of water. While the race director had warned us about an unusually dangerous rocky are, it didn’t seem like this could be it. The gentleman I found myself running this portion with was very upset, convinced we were lost. A few rock climbers informed us that we had missed the trail (apparently we weren’t the first to get lost). Back tracking, still no trail in sight, a hiker pointed us towards the little yellow arrow that was half hidden by brush. The adventure had only added another half mile to the course, and it was beautiful, I regretted not bringing my camera with me. I intend to make the same wrong turn when I do this race again (and I do intend to do it again), just so I can get pictures.
At the top of the hill we were faced with mountains of rocks. It looked like a rock quarry, medium sized broken rocks piled into mountains. A trail about a foot wide was stomped into the side of the rock mounds. Clearly, this was the death trap we were warned about. The rock pile seemed too steep to support a trail and falling guaranteed injury and offered the potential for serious injury with very little effort. I talked to the race director after the run, he said he fell on that section and cracked a few ribs and got pretty cut up. I decided to walk.
The trail seemed (yes, only “seemed” there were still plenty of areas you could hurt yourself on) less dangerous after the death trap, but it did get more difficult. I was 1/3 of the way through the run, Approaching the start/finish area that would mark the end of the first loop and the beginning of the second. I was feeling like this would be a good place to stop. I was worn out. I knew I would see John at the halfway point and he would help motivate me for the second half.
I saw a wild Turkey, I think…I know it was real, an improvement from the other things I had been “seeing” until this point.
I was thrilled to see John at the halfway point. He was so excited about his first trail run. His energy was palpable. In the matter of a few seconds I learned that he finished in 2:30 and is now in love with trail running, but thinks he needs trail shoes. there was more information, but I couldn’t process it as fast as he was telling me. I did catch a line he borrowed from “What About Bob?” (with a slight modification to fit the sport) “I’m a trail runner now, it’s pretty easy, I just let the trails do most of the work.” He kept telling me how tough it was. By now I knew that he had run what would be my second loop, I was not happy to hear it was difficult. I turned to someone who seemed to know the course and asked “is the second loop harder?” He shook his head vigorously while saying, “no, no, no, it is much easier.” And I was relieved, for a bit. Much easier it may have been, but the first loop wore me out.
I plodded along at my ‘half dead’ pace. The day had warmed considerably, and the second loop started in an area of baby trees that were no taller than me. I was grateful for the limited shade the adult trees provided. Like so many things, you can’t really appreciate them until they are gone. And I missed the shade. Although I was carrying a hydration pack, I still craved the water from the aid station. I had mixed my cytomax stronger than I might have liked. I grabbed a few cups of water and started throwing them into my face. A little boy commented “wow, you sure are thirsty!” Perhaps now is a good time to mention that this race was a fundraiser for an elementary school, and the aid stations were manned by kids from the school and their parents. They really did a great job. The kids were very excited and helpful, although I think the parents were essential to the actual functioning of each station (someone had to stop the kids from eating all the goodies). I always try to be friendly to the volunteers (because they rock!). but this time it felt more important that usual. I hoped that the kids would have a good impression of the sport based on the positive reactions they got from the runners. After all, that is why I started running.
And I was very polite when a little girl (2-3 years old) looked at me quizzically and asked “are you a girl?” I smiled and explained that “Yes I am a girl, I know it can be hard to tell since I have such short hair.” Her mother looked horrified, I was thrilled. More fuel for the blog. It did cross my mind that perhaps it is time to grow my hair out again.
It was hard going from there on out. I tried to keep myself laughing at the little girl’s comment, tried to tell myself jokes, but the truth was I was just worn out. I still had about 11 miles to go and there was no chance I would find anybody to distract me on the long journey to the finish. Running with myself had been a challenge for me in the past and once again it would prove difficult to keep myself moving while all alone.
I knew I was in trouble when I couldn’t run down the hills anymore. I could trudge along the flat parts, but when I saw the trail disappear in front of me I got worried.
Coming into the mile 7 (22) aid station the race director responsible for this half of the course wanted to know how I was doing and if I wanted to call it quits. His associate has a small 4 wheeler (which I want to call a buggy) that can bring me back to the start/ finish area if I need. I was determined to finish. I had a pace set out that was working for me and should get me into the finish around the time the course was supposed to close. I let them know as much and they cheered me on…but the seed was planted…
The next few miles I was falling off my pace. My legs were exhausted and sore. I was getting nauseous just from trying to jog the flat parts. I still couldn’t run up the hills and I couldn’t make up enough time on the downhill sections. And I knew they could come get me.
It took everything I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but I stayed focused and moved faster than the hikers who were now everywhere. It was too easy to keep slowing down, but having the hikers around provided a great point of reference. previously I had just been trying to move faster than the trees…
It has been a long time since I have given everything I had during a run. I like to tell myself that this is because I am trying not to re-injure myself, but I suspect that part of it is laziness. Getting back on the trails reminded me how fun running can be. I just feel so young and free in the trails. Playing like a kid.
But this kid was done. I decided to call it a day, only problem was the trails were narrow and mostly carved into the side of steep hills. I had to keep pushing until I found a place that the buggy could get to.
When I finally got myself to a buggy-accessible aid station, I sat down on a piece of cardboard and asked them to “call someone to come get me.” I smiled and was pleasant but they seemed concerned that I might be injured or sick or hungry, nope, “I’m just done.” The guy with the buggy let me know I had only 3.5 miles left and that the trail was ‘relatively flat’ and that they would keep the course open as long as I needed. but I was done. He said he didn’t want me to feel bad about not finishing so he just wanted to do anything he could to make sure I was making the right decision. “Clearly you haven’t met my ego, I assure you it won’t be damaged in the least by this.”
He let me run into the finish though, and I did take him up on that. It was very nice, but John was nowhere to be seen. I sat down and waited for him, and then it finally occurred to me, he was undoubtedly waiting for me on the trail. I told the buggy-guy this so he went out and found him and brought him in. he was waiting less than a mile from where I called it quits. I think I could have kept going if I knew he would be there to run me in. Ever without the last few miles though I was writhing in pain for the rest of the day and night. I was sufficiently sore the next three days. And I don’t feel disappointed in my decision to call it quits when I did. I made sure the race directors knew how much I liked the course, and the volunteers, and even the detour. and I assured them I would be back next year and that I would recommend their race to anyone who likes trails.
I was surprised at what an active town Spokane is. There were people out running, biking, river rafting, golfing, hiking and rock climbing. I ended up relying on many of these people for directions by the end of the run. The first two, a jogger then a biker, were needed just to get to the race itself. I arrived at the race with about 15 minutes to spare before the start of the race, I had hoped to get there earlier, but after 40 minutes of wrong turns I was happy to make it with any time to spare. It was the first race I have been to that didn’t have a line at the porta-potty…
AND WE WERE OFF…I took my usual approach and fell to the back of the pack. Slow and steady, I was feeling great. I haven’t been running on the trails for a very long time… “O shit, O SHIT!!! I haven’t been trail running since November!!! What was I thinking??!!?!?”
Already the weather was warmer than anticipated, felt like it was mid 60’s at 8:30 am, it promised to be a very hot day. I frequently forget that the forests in Easter Washington are much different than those of Western Washington. The trees are smaller and further apart, they don’t offer nearly the protection from the weather that I was hoping for.
Early on in the race, while running alone through a very quiet, flat part of the course, I heard a twig ’SNAP’. I looked over to find a wall of large men in camouflage with assault rifles slowly advancing towards the trail. Whoa. The race is held on the same weekend as the Army does practice missions in the forest. I am unaware of any other races that are able to offer this sort of entertainment.
I was feeling confident, the hills were tough, but in general the course was manageable. Then the course let loose on me. Hills got steeper in both directions, the trail became narrower, and the gentle forest floor was replaced by rocks. One particularly steep section dropped us into a rocky riverbed. Two arrows pointed me down the river, this must be the treacherous rock portion the race director warned us about. The rocks were big enough that I had to use my hands to climb over some of them, slide down on my bum to get back down to the ground on the other side. run through sand, navigate over unstable, wobbling rocks, and around small bodies of water. While the race director had warned us about an unusually dangerous rocky are, it didn’t seem like this could be it. The gentleman I found myself running this portion with was very upset, convinced we were lost. A few rock climbers informed us that we had missed the trail (apparently we weren’t the first to get lost). Back tracking, still no trail in sight, a hiker pointed us towards the little yellow arrow that was half hidden by brush. The adventure had only added another half mile to the course, and it was beautiful, I regretted not bringing my camera with me. I intend to make the same wrong turn when I do this race again (and I do intend to do it again), just so I can get pictures.
At the top of the hill we were faced with mountains of rocks. It looked like a rock quarry, medium sized broken rocks piled into mountains. A trail about a foot wide was stomped into the side of the rock mounds. Clearly, this was the death trap we were warned about. The rock pile seemed too steep to support a trail and falling guaranteed injury and offered the potential for serious injury with very little effort. I talked to the race director after the run, he said he fell on that section and cracked a few ribs and got pretty cut up. I decided to walk.
The trail seemed (yes, only “seemed” there were still plenty of areas you could hurt yourself on) less dangerous after the death trap, but it did get more difficult. I was 1/3 of the way through the run, Approaching the start/finish area that would mark the end of the first loop and the beginning of the second. I was feeling like this would be a good place to stop. I was worn out. I knew I would see John at the halfway point and he would help motivate me for the second half.
I saw a wild Turkey, I think…I know it was real, an improvement from the other things I had been “seeing” until this point.
I was thrilled to see John at the halfway point. He was so excited about his first trail run. His energy was palpable. In the matter of a few seconds I learned that he finished in 2:30 and is now in love with trail running, but thinks he needs trail shoes. there was more information, but I couldn’t process it as fast as he was telling me. I did catch a line he borrowed from “What About Bob?” (with a slight modification to fit the sport) “I’m a trail runner now, it’s pretty easy, I just let the trails do most of the work.” He kept telling me how tough it was. By now I knew that he had run what would be my second loop, I was not happy to hear it was difficult. I turned to someone who seemed to know the course and asked “is the second loop harder?” He shook his head vigorously while saying, “no, no, no, it is much easier.” And I was relieved, for a bit. Much easier it may have been, but the first loop wore me out.
I plodded along at my ‘half dead’ pace. The day had warmed considerably, and the second loop started in an area of baby trees that were no taller than me. I was grateful for the limited shade the adult trees provided. Like so many things, you can’t really appreciate them until they are gone. And I missed the shade. Although I was carrying a hydration pack, I still craved the water from the aid station. I had mixed my cytomax stronger than I might have liked. I grabbed a few cups of water and started throwing them into my face. A little boy commented “wow, you sure are thirsty!” Perhaps now is a good time to mention that this race was a fundraiser for an elementary school, and the aid stations were manned by kids from the school and their parents. They really did a great job. The kids were very excited and helpful, although I think the parents were essential to the actual functioning of each station (someone had to stop the kids from eating all the goodies). I always try to be friendly to the volunteers (because they rock!). but this time it felt more important that usual. I hoped that the kids would have a good impression of the sport based on the positive reactions they got from the runners. After all, that is why I started running.
And I was very polite when a little girl (2-3 years old) looked at me quizzically and asked “are you a girl?” I smiled and explained that “Yes I am a girl, I know it can be hard to tell since I have such short hair.” Her mother looked horrified, I was thrilled. More fuel for the blog. It did cross my mind that perhaps it is time to grow my hair out again.
It was hard going from there on out. I tried to keep myself laughing at the little girl’s comment, tried to tell myself jokes, but the truth was I was just worn out. I still had about 11 miles to go and there was no chance I would find anybody to distract me on the long journey to the finish. Running with myself had been a challenge for me in the past and once again it would prove difficult to keep myself moving while all alone.
I knew I was in trouble when I couldn’t run down the hills anymore. I could trudge along the flat parts, but when I saw the trail disappear in front of me I got worried.
Coming into the mile 7 (22) aid station the race director responsible for this half of the course wanted to know how I was doing and if I wanted to call it quits. His associate has a small 4 wheeler (which I want to call a buggy) that can bring me back to the start/ finish area if I need. I was determined to finish. I had a pace set out that was working for me and should get me into the finish around the time the course was supposed to close. I let them know as much and they cheered me on…but the seed was planted…
The next few miles I was falling off my pace. My legs were exhausted and sore. I was getting nauseous just from trying to jog the flat parts. I still couldn’t run up the hills and I couldn’t make up enough time on the downhill sections. And I knew they could come get me.
It took everything I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but I stayed focused and moved faster than the hikers who were now everywhere. It was too easy to keep slowing down, but having the hikers around provided a great point of reference. previously I had just been trying to move faster than the trees…
It has been a long time since I have given everything I had during a run. I like to tell myself that this is because I am trying not to re-injure myself, but I suspect that part of it is laziness. Getting back on the trails reminded me how fun running can be. I just feel so young and free in the trails. Playing like a kid.
But this kid was done. I decided to call it a day, only problem was the trails were narrow and mostly carved into the side of steep hills. I had to keep pushing until I found a place that the buggy could get to.
When I finally got myself to a buggy-accessible aid station, I sat down on a piece of cardboard and asked them to “call someone to come get me.” I smiled and was pleasant but they seemed concerned that I might be injured or sick or hungry, nope, “I’m just done.” The guy with the buggy let me know I had only 3.5 miles left and that the trail was ‘relatively flat’ and that they would keep the course open as long as I needed. but I was done. He said he didn’t want me to feel bad about not finishing so he just wanted to do anything he could to make sure I was making the right decision. “Clearly you haven’t met my ego, I assure you it won’t be damaged in the least by this.”
He let me run into the finish though, and I did take him up on that. It was very nice, but John was nowhere to be seen. I sat down and waited for him, and then it finally occurred to me, he was undoubtedly waiting for me on the trail. I told the buggy-guy this so he went out and found him and brought him in. he was waiting less than a mile from where I called it quits. I think I could have kept going if I knew he would be there to run me in. Ever without the last few miles though I was writhing in pain for the rest of the day and night. I was sufficiently sore the next three days. And I don’t feel disappointed in my decision to call it quits when I did. I made sure the race directors knew how much I liked the course, and the volunteers, and even the detour. and I assured them I would be back next year and that I would recommend their race to anyone who likes trails.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Dizzy Daze
It was like Christmas Eve, laying in bed knowing that the sooner I fall asleep, the sooner it will be morning. I was entirely to excited about the prospect of running FARTHER THAN I HAVE EVER RUN BEFORE. I was mentally practicing the FTIHERB dance that goes along with the accomplishment and I even came up with a song for it too. (sung to the tune of O My Darling Clementine) “I ran the farthest, I ran the farthest, the farthest distance I ever ran, But I will run more and I will dance more and I will sing this song again”
Yea, way to excited about that…
The weather promised to give us hell. The wind had calmed down to 15-20 miles an hour, but the hourly forecast was still 40 degrees with rain showers (every hour, all day).
Post run
NO RAIN…until a few seconds after I finished…wild
First I want to thank the Academy
Props to Jonathan Bernard for putting on a great run. There was an ample amount of everything I could possibly want at the aid station. And it was conveniently located every 3.2 miles (cause we ran in a circle, c’mon guys, don’t make me explain this stuff). There were potato chips (which were life savers after I burned myself out on GU and shot blocks), and Easter candy, and fruit, and sandwiches, and so on. Jonathan gave a great pre race speech, “If you want to do exactly a half marathon, marathon, or 50k here are the turn around places, but really, you should just run more.” And I was sufficiently motivated.
Next up, thanks John. He ran the first 9.5 miles with me, drove to Tacoma, taught trumpet lessons, then drove back in time to run my last lap with me. When I finally made it to that last lap I knew I could make it, but I wasn’t sure if I could keep myself from walking. With John there I was able to keep running, AND I had an audience for my FARTHEST DISTANCE song and dance
My family showed up and ran a bit with me. Just seeing my dad and step mom gave me a boost of energy, sadly it didn’t last long. I was on my eighth lap, I would be finishing my marathon soon, and I was getting a bit tired. I started worrying that they wouldn’t want to stay while I did two more laps. I would still get points for running a marathon, but I really wanted THE FARTHEST DISTANCE. When I passed my dad at the aid station, he assured me they would be happy to hang out for another two laps. He offered me fruit and acai juice, I felt terribly guilty but all I wanted was potato chips. He looked crushed, “I don’t have any potato chips”.
Mimi joined me to run the 9th lap. It was easily the hardest lap and I am so grateful to her for keeping me moving and chatting. I had started wondering if I could really keep running, my legs were so tired. But before I expected it, we were finishing our lap.
And John took over for Mimi and we pushed through the final lap together. When I finally hit THE FARTHEST DISTANCE, I found my legs too tired to do much of a dance, but I gave it my best. I repeated the song and dance a half mile later and again at the finish. Mimi and Cassie stood tall and linked their hands, giving me a tunnel to run under, and I was finally able to stop running. It was easier to do the full dance when I didn’t have to keep moving forward at the same time.
And then we ate and drank and were merry.
Two days later I am still surprised how good my body feels. There is some fatigue and a little muscle soreness, but nothing even close to what I expected.
My time was 7 hours and 3 minutes…less than an hour longer than last weeks marathon. Clearly our bodies thrive with only one week of recovery (HAHAHAHA…right). Wild
Yea, way to excited about that…
The weather promised to give us hell. The wind had calmed down to 15-20 miles an hour, but the hourly forecast was still 40 degrees with rain showers (every hour, all day).
Post run
NO RAIN…until a few seconds after I finished…wild
First I want to thank the Academy
Props to Jonathan Bernard for putting on a great run. There was an ample amount of everything I could possibly want at the aid station. And it was conveniently located every 3.2 miles (cause we ran in a circle, c’mon guys, don’t make me explain this stuff). There were potato chips (which were life savers after I burned myself out on GU and shot blocks), and Easter candy, and fruit, and sandwiches, and so on. Jonathan gave a great pre race speech, “If you want to do exactly a half marathon, marathon, or 50k here are the turn around places, but really, you should just run more.” And I was sufficiently motivated.
Next up, thanks John. He ran the first 9.5 miles with me, drove to Tacoma, taught trumpet lessons, then drove back in time to run my last lap with me. When I finally made it to that last lap I knew I could make it, but I wasn’t sure if I could keep myself from walking. With John there I was able to keep running, AND I had an audience for my FARTHEST DISTANCE song and dance
My family showed up and ran a bit with me. Just seeing my dad and step mom gave me a boost of energy, sadly it didn’t last long. I was on my eighth lap, I would be finishing my marathon soon, and I was getting a bit tired. I started worrying that they wouldn’t want to stay while I did two more laps. I would still get points for running a marathon, but I really wanted THE FARTHEST DISTANCE. When I passed my dad at the aid station, he assured me they would be happy to hang out for another two laps. He offered me fruit and acai juice, I felt terribly guilty but all I wanted was potato chips. He looked crushed, “I don’t have any potato chips”.
Mimi joined me to run the 9th lap. It was easily the hardest lap and I am so grateful to her for keeping me moving and chatting. I had started wondering if I could really keep running, my legs were so tired. But before I expected it, we were finishing our lap.
And John took over for Mimi and we pushed through the final lap together. When I finally hit THE FARTHEST DISTANCE, I found my legs too tired to do much of a dance, but I gave it my best. I repeated the song and dance a half mile later and again at the finish. Mimi and Cassie stood tall and linked their hands, giving me a tunnel to run under, and I was finally able to stop running. It was easier to do the full dance when I didn’t have to keep moving forward at the same time.
And then we ate and drank and were merry.
Two days later I am still surprised how good my body feels. There is some fatigue and a little muscle soreness, but nothing even close to what I expected.
My time was 7 hours and 3 minutes…less than an hour longer than last weeks marathon. Clearly our bodies thrive with only one week of recovery (HAHAHAHA…right). Wild
Yakima river canyon marathon
What a great event. Not just the marathon, but the pre and post race gatherings as well.. Bob and Lenore Dolphin know how to put on an event. There was plenty of food at the pre-race pasta feed , Lenore is a riot (I loved her “nuts to you” acknowledgments), and they really thought of everything. They even had extra long-sleeve shirts that you could wear in the morning then ditch by the roadside as the day got warmer.
I didn’t eat enough in the morning. In fact a lot of things were going wrong that morning ( I kept reminding myself that I have had great mornings fall to pieces on the course, so perhaps a little adversity would turn into a great run). Typically I like to have toast with peanut butter and a banana. Instead I had a few rice cakes. I blame this oversight on the migraine I had been fighting with for 4 days. I didn’t bother taking any migraine medicine in the morning cause the migraines usually take a break while I run (but they are waiting at the finish line). My stomach was growling at the starting line. I started eating GU immediately but by the third one I needed real food, I knew the aid station with food was still a ways off, but I decided to ask anyway at the station I was approaching. “Do you have a banana?” Salvation seemed imminent if only I could eat a banana. The woman offered me the one from her lunch. And I accepted with extreme gratitude. The food on the course was rice crispies, peanut m&ms, and chocolaty trail mix…all very delicious, but I would have liked some fruit in that mix.
And we were off…I decided to try something new, so I took off at a sprint (no, not really…I stayed with my slow shuffle). The run felt good, surprisingly good. I didn’t have my Garmin on, so I had no idea how fast (or, more accurately, how slow) I was going, but it felt like the right pace. The course photo shows me trying to smile at the camera through pain so thick you can see it everywhere in my body. But in spite of that the first 20 miles felt like a cake walk (cake shuffle?).
The last 6 miles got a little more difficult, I think only because I am out of shape. I tried a few times to push my pace, but my body made it clear that there would be only one pace for me today, sadly it was my same slow shuffle I started with. I have a friend who talked about a guy he knew only as “one speed Gregg” the explanation, “he only has one speed, fast as hell” My mother ended up marrying One-Speed-Gregg on Feb 4th. He slowed down long enough to ask her for a date, and the rest is history.
With a quarter of a mile left in the run the gentleman I walked the Redding Marathon with caught up to, and passed, me. He was walking faster than I was running. I saw him check over his shoulder a few times as we got closer to the finish, he really wanted to beat me. Fortunately for him, I was already at my maximum speed.
At the finish line, Lenore Dolphin was giving hugs to everyone as they crossed. And someone was handing out roses to all the female finishers. I was more interested in the food, bananas and cookies. Here were all the bananas…why didn’t they make it onto the course?
The baked potato feed and awards ceremony was just as fun as the pasta feed. Again Lenore was a crack-up. I stayed the whole time but didn’t manage to win anything, which is a huge surprise. I didn’t anticipate winning any sort of speed related prize (last place in my age group?) but they had so many drawing prizes, I think nearly a quarter of the group got something.
I finished in 6 hours and 6 minutes…I guess I really was moving slow. I realized later that my only slower marathon was the one I walked, and that one had a lot more hills. But it felt like the right pace, and my hips and back have felt good ever since.
I didn’t eat enough in the morning. In fact a lot of things were going wrong that morning ( I kept reminding myself that I have had great mornings fall to pieces on the course, so perhaps a little adversity would turn into a great run). Typically I like to have toast with peanut butter and a banana. Instead I had a few rice cakes. I blame this oversight on the migraine I had been fighting with for 4 days. I didn’t bother taking any migraine medicine in the morning cause the migraines usually take a break while I run (but they are waiting at the finish line). My stomach was growling at the starting line. I started eating GU immediately but by the third one I needed real food, I knew the aid station with food was still a ways off, but I decided to ask anyway at the station I was approaching. “Do you have a banana?” Salvation seemed imminent if only I could eat a banana. The woman offered me the one from her lunch. And I accepted with extreme gratitude. The food on the course was rice crispies, peanut m&ms, and chocolaty trail mix…all very delicious, but I would have liked some fruit in that mix.
And we were off…I decided to try something new, so I took off at a sprint (no, not really…I stayed with my slow shuffle). The run felt good, surprisingly good. I didn’t have my Garmin on, so I had no idea how fast (or, more accurately, how slow) I was going, but it felt like the right pace. The course photo shows me trying to smile at the camera through pain so thick you can see it everywhere in my body. But in spite of that the first 20 miles felt like a cake walk (cake shuffle?).
The last 6 miles got a little more difficult, I think only because I am out of shape. I tried a few times to push my pace, but my body made it clear that there would be only one pace for me today, sadly it was my same slow shuffle I started with. I have a friend who talked about a guy he knew only as “one speed Gregg” the explanation, “he only has one speed, fast as hell” My mother ended up marrying One-Speed-Gregg on Feb 4th. He slowed down long enough to ask her for a date, and the rest is history.
With a quarter of a mile left in the run the gentleman I walked the Redding Marathon with caught up to, and passed, me. He was walking faster than I was running. I saw him check over his shoulder a few times as we got closer to the finish, he really wanted to beat me. Fortunately for him, I was already at my maximum speed.
At the finish line, Lenore Dolphin was giving hugs to everyone as they crossed. And someone was handing out roses to all the female finishers. I was more interested in the food, bananas and cookies. Here were all the bananas…why didn’t they make it onto the course?
The baked potato feed and awards ceremony was just as fun as the pasta feed. Again Lenore was a crack-up. I stayed the whole time but didn’t manage to win anything, which is a huge surprise. I didn’t anticipate winning any sort of speed related prize (last place in my age group?) but they had so many drawing prizes, I think nearly a quarter of the group got something.
I finished in 6 hours and 6 minutes…I guess I really was moving slow. I realized later that my only slower marathon was the one I walked, and that one had a lot more hills. But it felt like the right pace, and my hips and back have felt good ever since.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Death Valley
Sometimes a marathon is just a long, hard slog.
To quote my favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut, “So it goes.”
I am currently celebrating this unfortunate run with a sleepless night. A common post-race occurrence, the sleepless night is…well I was going to say it is my least favorite part of marathons, but then I got started thinking about all the things I don’t like about them…best get off that train of thought now.
The Death Valley marathon sounds intimidating for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it takes place in Death Valley, the hottest, driest place in North America which boasts an average rainfall of two inches, and some years it doesn’t rain at all. Second, the course itself, “The trail marathon starts at 3460 feet of elevation. It climbs to 4900 feet over the first nine miles then descends 500 feet before climbing to the highest point on the course at 5250 feet of elevation. The last 14 miles are DOWNHILL to the finish line at 250 feet”. Elevation, not something my body can handle right now. My hip is getting better, as long as I don’t run up hills (I died a little inside).
And again, Furnace Creek, DEATH VALLEY, average daily highs of 90 degrees and average lows of 60, with a record high of 134 degrees.
Imagine my surprise when I get the email that the course has changed due to rain, snow and ice. As it happens, this is not unusual for this marathon, last year, all two inches of annual rainfall fell during the marathon, resulting in flash flooding, and extensive road closures. The race director informed us that the race will be held in December from now on, when the weather is drier.
The revised course descends 100 ft over the first mile or two and is relatively flat for the rest of the race. 13.1 miles down the road, we turn back for the return trip. The trail is a dirt road with more dirt, sand and salt to either side, eventually giving way to colorful foot hills and then snow capped mountains. It sounds a bit dull, and to be honest it was. There is no denying the fact that the area is beautiful. Looking across the salt flats you think you could be on the ocean, the way it seems to stretch on forever. Beyond that the mountains are very colorful, earning the name “artists palate.”
I tried to add more to this report, but there is really little more to say. I had a tough run. My body managed it fine at my new slower pace (flat course, ideal temps, 5.5 hours). I hate to say it was a disappointment, because it was really good to prove to myself that even injured and out of shape I can still run 26.2 miles, but I did hope it would be more fun…Some people never learn.
To quote my favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut, “So it goes.”
I am currently celebrating this unfortunate run with a sleepless night. A common post-race occurrence, the sleepless night is…well I was going to say it is my least favorite part of marathons, but then I got started thinking about all the things I don’t like about them…best get off that train of thought now.
The Death Valley marathon sounds intimidating for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it takes place in Death Valley, the hottest, driest place in North America which boasts an average rainfall of two inches, and some years it doesn’t rain at all. Second, the course itself, “The trail marathon starts at 3460 feet of elevation. It climbs to 4900 feet over the first nine miles then descends 500 feet before climbing to the highest point on the course at 5250 feet of elevation. The last 14 miles are DOWNHILL to the finish line at 250 feet”. Elevation, not something my body can handle right now. My hip is getting better, as long as I don’t run up hills (I died a little inside).
And again, Furnace Creek, DEATH VALLEY, average daily highs of 90 degrees and average lows of 60, with a record high of 134 degrees.
Imagine my surprise when I get the email that the course has changed due to rain, snow and ice. As it happens, this is not unusual for this marathon, last year, all two inches of annual rainfall fell during the marathon, resulting in flash flooding, and extensive road closures. The race director informed us that the race will be held in December from now on, when the weather is drier.
The revised course descends 100 ft over the first mile or two and is relatively flat for the rest of the race. 13.1 miles down the road, we turn back for the return trip. The trail is a dirt road with more dirt, sand and salt to either side, eventually giving way to colorful foot hills and then snow capped mountains. It sounds a bit dull, and to be honest it was. There is no denying the fact that the area is beautiful. Looking across the salt flats you think you could be on the ocean, the way it seems to stretch on forever. Beyond that the mountains are very colorful, earning the name “artists palate.”
I tried to add more to this report, but there is really little more to say. I had a tough run. My body managed it fine at my new slower pace (flat course, ideal temps, 5.5 hours). I hate to say it was a disappointment, because it was really good to prove to myself that even injured and out of shape I can still run 26.2 miles, but I did hope it would be more fun…Some people never learn.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Still Going!
I spent the weekend in Redding, CA. just over the mountains from my old stomping ground in Arcata.
As many of you know I have been bothered by an injury for some months now. It really caught up with me during the Seattle marathon. Since then I have been doing my physical therapy and my regular gym workouts, but I have had to limit my running to short, flat, slow runs. This frustrates me. I like hills, and distances. I won’t go so far to say that I like running fast, but I like to be able to open up and stretch out my legs occasionally.
Since the end of November my longest run was 6 miles although most days I ran between 0 and 4 miles. Not impressive. I can’t believe I thought I could do a marathon and more remarkably, I can‘t believe I actually could do a marathon with this lack of training (That’s why they call me a maniac).
Initially I was thinking I would start out and see how far I could run before I had to stop, but I don’t like quitting. About two weeks prior to the event it occurred to me that walking it might be a lot easier and increase my chances of finishing. Walking around the day before I could feel my glute getting weak and tired and it dawned on me that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try some distancing walking in the future to keep my body in better shape for this sort of insanity. In case I forget to mention it later, let me confess that I was taking therapeutic levels of ibuprofen the day before and day of in an attempt to keep my hips, knees and ankles functioning. I actually tried all sorts of voodoo to keep myself moving. I wore Phiten titanium patches on my left hip and ankle starting two days in advance. I used titanium lotion for those days too. The night before and day of the marathon I used an all natural lotion that reeked of mints and is supposed to energize your muscles. I was hoping for miracles.
The day before the marathon I was checking out the finish area. The race wraps along the Sacramento River and finishes at the Sundial Bridge (you can check out some pictures on the website but most of them show it in considerably nicer weather than we saw). A really beautiful structure, paved with glass and lit from beneath so it glows at night. A great place for finish line photos…except for the ominous signs posted at either end “slippery when wet”. The forecast was predicting a deluge, naturally the day before the marathon was beautiful. I took advantage of this time to wander around the Turtle Bay and Exploration park and botanical gardens. The gardens were really something, admittedly the middle of winter isn’t really the best time to see this particular garden, but they have art throughout the gardens. They had pyramids made of painted tiles, A giant mosaic bench that wrapped around a fountain, and (my favorite) a structure called lookout house which was constructed out of branches and vines.
Day of race we park at the Sundial bridge and Turtle Bay Exploration parking lot, hop on the buses and start one of my favorite parts of running (second only to carb loading), meeting other runners and hearing how they all came to be at this race. I met a woman who was running her first race after a 5 year battle with a lung disease, and a boy from the Seattle area who was doing this marathon as part of his senior project (chosen because it didn’t interfere with his High School track schedule). I ran into a few Marathon Maniacs. One older gentleman who said he had always been an avid runner, but it wasn’t until his good buddy Bob Dolphin pushed him into it that he joined the Maniacs. It is always remarkable to learn how many people know Bob and Lenore Dolphin. The man I ended up walking with had seen Bob at a marathon recently, didn’t know who he was but remembered the shirt “where the Dolphin has been” with the hundreds of marathons that were listed. Bob turned 80 in October (celebrating by running the Portland marathon) and has just logged his 460th Marathon. The man is truly an inspiration.
The rain was coming down gently at the start line, most people decided to stay in the buses until we were kicked out 10 minutes before the start. There might have been 200+ people signed up for the race but there were no more than 150 at the start…It is just now occurring to me that a number of people participated in the relay, so perhaps the other 50 didn’t get scared away by the rain but rather were waiting at the relay hand offs. I can’t verify any of this because the website doesn’t have a link to any results page.
I was going to describe the course, but they have a great description with pictures here. The sunshine is misleading, we saw nothing of the sort, and we saw none of the views they show. To get a better idea of what we saw, just look at the pavement and the brush. The course was beautiful even without the views. As a Seattle native I appreciate the rain. I tend to overheat while running, being constantly doused with water helps keep the temperature in a comfortable range. The wind didn’t present much of a problem for most of the race, but when it hit, it hurt.
The initial downhill brought us to the dam. As I jogged across I glanced over the side, big mistake. Hundreds of feet below us were the rivers and land. I quickly ran to the other side and was comforted to see that the lake was only 50 feet below us on this side. I am not a huge fan of bridges. Especially when they seem to be floating thousands of miles above land. We crossed a number of bridges in this run.
I notice I keep using or wanting to use the word ‘run’. except for the last few miles, very little of what I did could be considered ‘running’. I sped walked, shuffled and jogged. I suppose my run at the end might not have fit in some people’s definition of running. I found an interesting piece by Travis, who “runs a lot and likes video games” discussing the difference between running and jogging. He claims it is the mindset that sets the two apart. He says the runner is the person who is training to compete or improve their athletic ability, “If they are pushing themselves in order to increase their athletic potential for a later competition, then it is running. I don't care if they are running relaxed at 7:30 pace, or ripping through intervals at 5:30. Even the slow painful recovery trot in between workout sets count. It is ALL running.”
Rock on Travis with your relaxed 7:30 pace! I might have seen something under 8 minute/miles while launching myself down steep hills, but it still took everything I had to get those numbers on the clock for a split second. Regardless, he seems to agree that I was running, this being a “painfully recovery trot” that worked to boost my confidence that I could keep running.
I really needed this boost, I have been feeling very upset since the Seattle Marathon, concerned that I wouldn’t be able to do these distances anymore. I love the marathon distance, I start to feel really good around mile 13, like I have finally finished my warm up and am ready to let my body play a little more.
My body was responding really well to the course. It was mostly flat and downhill, the inclines I had to push through some pain, but I was always rewarded with a downhill after. I had flash backs of Peru, climbing up forever and thinking you had reached the top of the mountain only to watch the clouds part on a peak another 50 feet above you. Not that this happened on this course, but the heavy clouds worry me.
Around mile 21 some course officials were cheering for us by number “Doing great 104!” “Almost there 27!” . “27, why I’ll be 27 on Tuesday,” I remark to the gent I am walking with. “Tuesday the 19th? I’ll be 68.” Yup, couple of stubborn Capricorns bringing up the rear.
Around mile 23 I parted ways with the man I now knew as #27, and started my most concentrated effort at running. Despite what I may go through during the rest of the marathon I am driven by deeply ingrained instinct to always finish strong. I picked off one guy almost immediately, I could tell from a distance that his legs were cramping up and that it was all he could do to keep shuffling along. “Just focus on pizza” I called out as I “breezed” past him with an awe inspiring 10:15 pace. The next few I took were in an out and back section that goes through the botanical gardens, one looked to be minutes from death (but still looking stylish in his fancy Boston Marathon jacket). The next guy didn’t look like he was hurting, but he was walking, I can only imagine that he was just exhausted, doing what he could to finish at all. Granted, picking off the weak and injured doesn’t give you the same rush as fighting it out with a matched competitor. To be honest though, it is always nice to put a few marks in the road kill column.
Turns out walking a marathon leaves your body in much better shape. Yes I was sore afterwards and have some aches today, but all in all I don’t think I have ever felt better after a marathon. Definitely worth trying!
As many of you know I have been bothered by an injury for some months now. It really caught up with me during the Seattle marathon. Since then I have been doing my physical therapy and my regular gym workouts, but I have had to limit my running to short, flat, slow runs. This frustrates me. I like hills, and distances. I won’t go so far to say that I like running fast, but I like to be able to open up and stretch out my legs occasionally.
Since the end of November my longest run was 6 miles although most days I ran between 0 and 4 miles. Not impressive. I can’t believe I thought I could do a marathon and more remarkably, I can‘t believe I actually could do a marathon with this lack of training (That’s why they call me a maniac).
Initially I was thinking I would start out and see how far I could run before I had to stop, but I don’t like quitting. About two weeks prior to the event it occurred to me that walking it might be a lot easier and increase my chances of finishing. Walking around the day before I could feel my glute getting weak and tired and it dawned on me that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try some distancing walking in the future to keep my body in better shape for this sort of insanity. In case I forget to mention it later, let me confess that I was taking therapeutic levels of ibuprofen the day before and day of in an attempt to keep my hips, knees and ankles functioning. I actually tried all sorts of voodoo to keep myself moving. I wore Phiten titanium patches on my left hip and ankle starting two days in advance. I used titanium lotion for those days too. The night before and day of the marathon I used an all natural lotion that reeked of mints and is supposed to energize your muscles. I was hoping for miracles.
The day before the marathon I was checking out the finish area. The race wraps along the Sacramento River and finishes at the Sundial Bridge (you can check out some pictures on the website but most of them show it in considerably nicer weather than we saw). A really beautiful structure, paved with glass and lit from beneath so it glows at night. A great place for finish line photos…except for the ominous signs posted at either end “slippery when wet”. The forecast was predicting a deluge, naturally the day before the marathon was beautiful. I took advantage of this time to wander around the Turtle Bay and Exploration park and botanical gardens. The gardens were really something, admittedly the middle of winter isn’t really the best time to see this particular garden, but they have art throughout the gardens. They had pyramids made of painted tiles, A giant mosaic bench that wrapped around a fountain, and (my favorite) a structure called lookout house which was constructed out of branches and vines.
Day of race we park at the Sundial bridge and Turtle Bay Exploration parking lot, hop on the buses and start one of my favorite parts of running (second only to carb loading), meeting other runners and hearing how they all came to be at this race. I met a woman who was running her first race after a 5 year battle with a lung disease, and a boy from the Seattle area who was doing this marathon as part of his senior project (chosen because it didn’t interfere with his High School track schedule). I ran into a few Marathon Maniacs. One older gentleman who said he had always been an avid runner, but it wasn’t until his good buddy Bob Dolphin pushed him into it that he joined the Maniacs. It is always remarkable to learn how many people know Bob and Lenore Dolphin. The man I ended up walking with had seen Bob at a marathon recently, didn’t know who he was but remembered the shirt “where the Dolphin has been” with the hundreds of marathons that were listed. Bob turned 80 in October (celebrating by running the Portland marathon) and has just logged his 460th Marathon. The man is truly an inspiration.
The rain was coming down gently at the start line, most people decided to stay in the buses until we were kicked out 10 minutes before the start. There might have been 200+ people signed up for the race but there were no more than 150 at the start…It is just now occurring to me that a number of people participated in the relay, so perhaps the other 50 didn’t get scared away by the rain but rather were waiting at the relay hand offs. I can’t verify any of this because the website doesn’t have a link to any results page.
I was going to describe the course, but they have a great description with pictures here. The sunshine is misleading, we saw nothing of the sort, and we saw none of the views they show. To get a better idea of what we saw, just look at the pavement and the brush. The course was beautiful even without the views. As a Seattle native I appreciate the rain. I tend to overheat while running, being constantly doused with water helps keep the temperature in a comfortable range. The wind didn’t present much of a problem for most of the race, but when it hit, it hurt.
The initial downhill brought us to the dam. As I jogged across I glanced over the side, big mistake. Hundreds of feet below us were the rivers and land. I quickly ran to the other side and was comforted to see that the lake was only 50 feet below us on this side. I am not a huge fan of bridges. Especially when they seem to be floating thousands of miles above land. We crossed a number of bridges in this run.
I notice I keep using or wanting to use the word ‘run’. except for the last few miles, very little of what I did could be considered ‘running’. I sped walked, shuffled and jogged. I suppose my run at the end might not have fit in some people’s definition of running. I found an interesting piece by Travis, who “runs a lot and likes video games” discussing the difference between running and jogging. He claims it is the mindset that sets the two apart. He says the runner is the person who is training to compete or improve their athletic ability, “If they are pushing themselves in order to increase their athletic potential for a later competition, then it is running. I don't care if they are running relaxed at 7:30 pace, or ripping through intervals at 5:30. Even the slow painful recovery trot in between workout sets count. It is ALL running.”
Rock on Travis with your relaxed 7:30 pace! I might have seen something under 8 minute/miles while launching myself down steep hills, but it still took everything I had to get those numbers on the clock for a split second. Regardless, he seems to agree that I was running, this being a “painfully recovery trot” that worked to boost my confidence that I could keep running.
I really needed this boost, I have been feeling very upset since the Seattle Marathon, concerned that I wouldn’t be able to do these distances anymore. I love the marathon distance, I start to feel really good around mile 13, like I have finally finished my warm up and am ready to let my body play a little more.
My body was responding really well to the course. It was mostly flat and downhill, the inclines I had to push through some pain, but I was always rewarded with a downhill after. I had flash backs of Peru, climbing up forever and thinking you had reached the top of the mountain only to watch the clouds part on a peak another 50 feet above you. Not that this happened on this course, but the heavy clouds worry me.
Around mile 21 some course officials were cheering for us by number “Doing great 104!” “Almost there 27!” . “27, why I’ll be 27 on Tuesday,” I remark to the gent I am walking with. “Tuesday the 19th? I’ll be 68.” Yup, couple of stubborn Capricorns bringing up the rear.
Around mile 23 I parted ways with the man I now knew as #27, and started my most concentrated effort at running. Despite what I may go through during the rest of the marathon I am driven by deeply ingrained instinct to always finish strong. I picked off one guy almost immediately, I could tell from a distance that his legs were cramping up and that it was all he could do to keep shuffling along. “Just focus on pizza” I called out as I “breezed” past him with an awe inspiring 10:15 pace. The next few I took were in an out and back section that goes through the botanical gardens, one looked to be minutes from death (but still looking stylish in his fancy Boston Marathon jacket). The next guy didn’t look like he was hurting, but he was walking, I can only imagine that he was just exhausted, doing what he could to finish at all. Granted, picking off the weak and injured doesn’t give you the same rush as fighting it out with a matched competitor. To be honest though, it is always nice to put a few marks in the road kill column.
Turns out walking a marathon leaves your body in much better shape. Yes I was sore afterwards and have some aches today, but all in all I don’t think I have ever felt better after a marathon. Definitely worth trying!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
my weakness
I skipped a marathon last weekend, decided to try a trail run instead. Last week the chiro found my ankle to be locked up again, in the past when this has happened I felt the strain on the top of my foot. He worked it out and I thought I would benefit from trail running, let the uneven ground move my ankles around and build some more strength through them. So I set off with a group to run at Bridle Trails, the plan was two 5 mile loops. The weather had warmed a bit, but we saw the occasional snowflake and all the ground was frozen (Bridle Trails has a tendency to be very muddy). I felt pretty good for the first few miles, around mile 3 I could feel my knee but it wasn't anything serious. As we started on our second lap I felt fine and decided to keep on. A mile into it my knee, foot and ankle took a turn for the worse (not literally). I tried to keep up the pace, then I tried slowing. It was clear that I needed to stop, but I really didn't want to. I talked with one of my running buddies and he made the very good point, If I didn't stop now I might not be able to run for a long time. So I turned back.
I was in a good deal of pain on Monday, So I waited until today to try any running. I managed two miles and felt good. I don't think I have felt good on a run in over three weeks. I think the lesson is: self control (this is the weakness that I am referring to in the title of this blog). It seems that I may just need to stick to shorter distances (very shorter) for a while.
Bout a month till my next marathon. Redding California. The weekend of my birthday (I am getting dangerously close to thirty...although someone pointed out that it is really nice to be done with your twenties...we shall see).
I was in a good deal of pain on Monday, So I waited until today to try any running. I managed two miles and felt good. I don't think I have felt good on a run in over three weeks. I think the lesson is: self control (this is the weakness that I am referring to in the title of this blog). It seems that I may just need to stick to shorter distances (very shorter) for a while.
Bout a month till my next marathon. Redding California. The weekend of my birthday (I am getting dangerously close to thirty...although someone pointed out that it is really nice to be done with your twenties...we shall see).
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