Manchester Shamrock Shuffle

Sunday, March 27th
2 mi; 23m 37s

This was the inaugural year for the Shamrock Shuffle, a 2 mile out-and-back race on Elm St. in downtown Manchester set an hour before the St. Patrick's Day Parade.  Sponsored by Harpoon, the run had decent swag (hat for the first 500, pint glass for the first 750, and two free Harpoon beers for anyone that registered), and if you were a friend of Harpoon you got $5 off.  A 2 mile road race doesn't have a lot of appeal, but $17 for a pint glass and two free beers plus an easy way to hang out with folks certainly increases the appeal.

Team Robert in effect!

So much so that Team Robert had a GREAT turnout!  My Runner (aka 4-Leaf) and I, Puma, Moose & Gazelle, Taps, and Kanga, running her first race.  Our support crew/fan base was Kanga's hubby and little girl. It was sunny, windy, and cold as a witches tit.  We huddled in a sunny spot at Veteran's park waiting for the race to begin, having gotten prime parking right in front of Murphy's Taproom- a favorite tavern and home of the NHSSC.

Myself, Moose, and Gazelle sporting our team colors

As always, the race excitement builds as we crowd towards the starting line.  There's almost 1200 people running this short little race, and the crowds along Elm St are cheering fervently (probably to stay warm).  It's Kanga's first race, and I'm happy to run with her.  Sharing the excitement and trials of ANY race is part of the joy of running with a team.  Kanga did AMAZING- running the entire two miles finishing with me and 4-Leaf at 23:41, or an 11:51 minute mile.

Me and Kanga at 1.5 miles

The rest of the team did great as well, with 4-Leaf and Taps bounding back and forth between the team members, sharing their infectious and boundless energy.  Puma pushed ahead in the first mile of the run, with Moose catching up to her soon after.  Gazelle ran with her Moose, who also had an amazing run completing the entire two miles without a walk break.

Team at Murph's

We retired to Murphy's to celebrate, but with only barstools open, Kanga and her family decided to take this time to visit family in the area.  Six of us, hanging at the bar, with our Team Robert shirts on, sharing beers, food, and good times... A good way to end any run.

A Year in Races (For Thanksgiving)

This was meant to be posted on Thanksgiving, but it was a full day of visiting My Runner's family in VT.  
 
Thanksgiving 2010 marks one full year since my very first official race. I took some time to look back on the year, the races, and the memories (briefly) for each run.

11/26/09- Feaster Five Road Race
5K, 31m18s
HUGE race- over 10,000 people there.  I ran with Pocket (a bit- she ran the 5mi option), and got PIE!

12/12/09- Beaver Brook Winter 5K(ish)
4.5K, 27m34s
Pocket dropped giving My Runner her number, snow covered the trails, first time I thought I would puke from running.  Also my first "official" race with My Runner.

2/14/10- Frozen Shamrock (Wild Rover Race 1)
3mi, 27m45s
First solo race, first run after undergoing PT for my hip overuse injury. Thought I would die when ipod ran out of batteries, finished smiling instead, got BEER!

2/27/10- Cladagh Pub (Wild Rover Race 2)
4mi, 39m10.5s
First run with Dad! My Runner was there too- was an unseasonably warm and sunny day (ran in a t-shirt) for Feb, got BEER! Got more beer and lunch at Murph's while My Runner got to know my Pops.

3/14/10- Hynes Tavern (Wild Rover Race 3)
5mi, 49m5.5s
Ran fighting rain and St. Patty's day hangover. Too cold, damp, and tired to stay for beer.  Set a mileage marker with this race.

3/20/10- Shamrock 8K (Dolphin Challenge 1)
8K, 51m50s
In VA beech with Pocket and My Runner. Gorgeous day, fun run, got FOUR BEERS before being coerced into more drinks at a boardwalk bar.  Gin Bloody Marys are pretty awesome.

3/21/10- Shamrock Half Marathon (Dolphin Challenge 2)
13.1mi, 2h30m34s
Longest distance run ever (had only run 6 and change).  Ran with a Bloody Mary most of the way. Took photo at mile 7 to commemorate the distance breaking point. Shared post-race beers w/ My Runner (who ran the marathon) on the beach.

4/18/10- Muddy Moose
4mi, 41m49s
First run after (initial) ankle injury (hockey). Not kidding with "Muddy"- still get dirty feet when I wear those sneakers. Some of my favorite run pics come from this race.

5/29/10- Pineland Farms 5K (Trail Running Festival)
5K, 34m38s
First run after secondary ankle injury (EMS trail fun run). Felt horrible- almost every step a struggle. Beer at the end helped a bit... at least the weather was nice?

5/30/10- Pineland Farms 25K (Trail Running Festival)
25K, 3h:43m:10s
Ran with the Strongs for almost four hours- they became true family in that time. This race is my distance record to date.

7/4/10- Clarence Demar 5K (GMAA)
5K, 29m52s
Super hot run in South Hero VT with My Runner's Pops and Lil Bro. Still feeling super out of shape, but set a 5K PR.

7/9/10- Hillsboro Balloon Fest
5K, 34m09s
After a pre-race browse down the midway, shared these miles with Puma as MC ran in her first official race and My Runner encouraged her husband GC along.

8/22/10- Moose on the Loose, Relay (Team Thespians)
10mi (2.5 mi), 1h34m30s
First relay, first race after re-re-injury of the stoopid ankle. G. ran 1st loop, Pocket ran 2&3, I finished 4th loop. Celebrated the 1 year anniversary of Pocket's first official race.

9/26/10- VT 50, Relay (Team Patriot)
50mi (12.3mi), 9h30m22s (2h20m)
Team with Dad & friend Ed, shared my 12mi leg with My Runner and Gilly, as well as pacing My Runner through (most of) the last 3 miles.  This race was more of a challenge to prep than to run- too much pressure on myself.

10/10/10- Harpoon Oktoberfest Road Race
3.6mi. 32m34.5s
Big group this year, with the Strongs, My Runner, Puma, the C's and more.  Enjoyed many, many Harpoon beverages on tap during the Oktoberfest party after the run.

10/16/10 - My Dogs Are Barkin' 5K (Animal Rescue League of NH)
3.4mi, 29m 47s
A fund-raiser for the Bedford Animal Rescue League, Face (who's on the board of the ARL) volunteered for the event and got to see me into the finish line.  This was the ARL's first 5K and they landed more than 300 entrants- pretty darn good!  Also, there were LOTS of cute doggies.  :-)

11/25/10 - (VT Turkey Trot)
5K fun run, 30m 8s
This run is a true family fun-run, with no numbers and no perks.  Families are $10 to register.  My Runner and his dad have been doing this run for longer than he remembers and it was great to be a Team Robert member this year. 

Here's to many more runs and many more adventures.  I'm thankful for my family, my friends, and the fact that most of the people I know fit into both categories.  Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone.

Shape Up Or....

While I wasn't paying attention, my life kinda fell apart.

I haven't been running.  Here and there a few miles, but maybe once a week.

I haven't been saving.  Well, I have money going to a savings account, but I'm also spending and using credit, so it amounts to the same thing.

I haven't been eating well.  I've been eating WELL- but not healthily.

On my day off this week I did some deep cleaning in my apartment.  I purged old and ill-fitting clothes (including going through the sock and underwear drawer), organized both closets, scrubbed the bathrooms, scoured and vacuumed the floors.  It was a good day- cleaning, organizing, and getting rid of junk I don't need made me very up-beat and happy.  It's obvious to me now that I felt my life lacking in structure, but wasn't sure how to articulate it.

Just one day later I was feeling so unsettled that I had an emotional breakdown in traffic.  Sure, no one likes traffic.  Usually I'm able to hold a certain amount of zen about it.  Yesterday, no zen, only Zuul.  I was so frustrated that once I was finally OUT of traffic I started crying.  That's not the sign of a well-balanced emotional state.

Last night I ran with My Runner and a group of others.  I wanted to run hard.  I wanted to push my lazy body and make it pay for it's inactivity.  But this was also a social outing.  Internally I fought between staying with my friends and running for me.

This morning on the way to work My Runner kept asking me if/why I was upset.  Wha?  I didn't feel upset.  I was fine.  Just fine.  I got the "... okayyyy...." and rightly so.  Of course I wasn't fine, but I wasn't even admitting to myself I wasn't fine.  How could I admit it to anyone else?

I'm not fine.  There are very basic aspects of my life that have no organization.  Chaos reigns.  I'm on the verge of tears for the smallest things.  And no, I'm not PMS-ing.  It's time to organize, purge, and regroup.

Back to running at least three times a week.  Every other Wednesday is a group run at this point, plus at least once a month I'm either doing a 5K or a longer group run, but that's not enough.  I want to be strong enough to snowshoe this winter and not hurt myself.  We're planning a trip to Mt. Katahdin in ME which is a rigorous hike.  Running is the cheapest and easiest way for me to stay in shape to do the things I want to do.  Now that I have a headlamp, running in the evening is a bit safer.  Time to break out that mace for my solo runs and see if anyone's got a spare reflective vest kicking around.  (Anyone got a spare reflective vest kicking around?)

My spending moratorium is back.  Again.  Expenses shall be limited to groceries (not "food"- lunch out is not a qualified expense), gas, and bills.  I do, of course, have a few exceptions (like baby-soul eye-cream), but this is THE plan.  I will keep my goal firmly in front of me, and since it's concrete I will share: a new car.  By May I'd like my credit card paid off, and about $4000 in cash (savings combined with the sale of my car), so I can put money down on a new Honda Fit (or something similar).  Currently I pay between $200-$250 to my credit card, but since I keep using it a bit it's not going down as fast as I'd like it.  I can get a car payment under $300, so I'd simply be replacing my credit card payment with a car payment.  Considering how often my Cabrio has had issues, I think this is a solid investment.  This means putting off purchases I had planned on, like a new laptop, a hair cut, and some new dish towels, but eh.  I'll live.

I'll be eating right.  And by that I mean eating poor.  I have PLENTY of food in my house.  The only groceries I should need are fruits and vegetables- I have enough protein and grains to get me through at least mid-December.  I'll give making bread another try- it was never AWESOME but it was generally edible.  Leftovers are not just a staple, but THE staple.  Creatively using ingredients is something the best home cooks do, and I have enough of the basics down to spread my wings.  Hell, I might even find a new awesome dish (amongst the awful failures and mediocre offerings).

The final aspect- accountability.  If I make my choices public then I must be accountable for my actions.  Looking back to when I was training for a half-marathon, I posted my runs all the time.  I won't do that, but I will start publishing my miles (look to the sidebar).  I will post about my kitchen experiments.  Maybe make a game show out of it!  What would YOU do with a can of black beans, a bag of frozen mixed veggies, and rotini?  You have almost every condiment imaginable, especially spicy ones.  Go.  And when I get to reward my good spending habits with test drives, I'll let you know what I think.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- 25k

We woke up early.  My Runner and GB were running the 50k, which started two hours before the 25k. I sat outside with them while they got ready, somewhat awake and alert.  Puma was running the 25k, but heading up with the boys to take pictures and fill her time at the festival before the start.  We'd convinced Mr. Strong to join us for the 25k, so now four of us (Mrs. too) would be crossing the start at 10am to run 15.6 miles today.

In the car on the way, I realized I had forgotten my team shirt hanging on the clothes line.  Between being tired, nervous, and emotionally strained, I started crying.  I didn't feel like I could ask to go back for it (even though it was offered) but I didn't want to not represent the team.  In the end, it was one of many little moments that my mind made into big huge deals over the weekend.

The weather was getting warmer, and the air was hazy from the fires in Canada.  We had run out of sunscreen.  Normally I carry several tubes with me, but my car had broken on Thursday before the trip, and in the commotion I had forgotten to transfer everything I needed.  With my ghost-like skin, I need sunscreen on a daily basis or I'm likely to turn into a lobster, then shed the entire layer of skin, and remain pale as a ghost.  One more thing to worry about, ::plop:: on my plate.

I arrived at the farm with Mr. and Mrs. Strong, and we met up with Puma.  Three newbies and a veteran, we bumbled about trying to figure out what we'd need, where things should be put, where were the aid stations, etc.  As start time approached, my nerves (oddly) settled.  We snapped a few pre-race photos, stashed the camera, and the four of us lined up.  Mrs. Strong was pretty adamant about running together, though I know she's a much stronger runner than I am.  I told her we'd see, and though I'd appreciate the company I didn't want to hold her up.  My main goal was to finish- who knew how long that would take?

Mr. and Mrs. Strong, Puma, and myself

A cowbell sounded the start, and we were off, moving at a trot.  The first path is much more narrow than the corral, resulting in everyone crossing the start quickly then slowing as we all try not to bump into each other.  Puma pulled ahead of us as Mr. and Mrs. Strong and I stayed together.  We kept it an easy pace, chatting with each other.

Like yesterday, the course was beautiful.  It was nice to see more of the farm.  Aid stations were incredibly well stocked with not only water and food but ibuprofen, sodium tablets, and :: hallelujah:: sunscreen.  By the time we were really out, all my nerves had calmed.  I was feeling good, the Strongs were running at about my pace, and we were having a great time.

As we reached the 5k mark, handily noted for us by a sandwich board on the course, I realized I was feeling much better today than yesterday.  I attributed part of that to the company, and part of it to the "warm up" of running yesterday.  I realized I still had a long way to go; I didn't want to put the cart before the horse.

We caught up with Puma at some point before 10k, ran with her a bit, and eventually passed, though she stayed pretty close behind us for the rest of the run.  My Runner and GB were on the same course as us, doing 2 loops to make the 50k, and we finally crossed paths at the "Yurt" aid station, which the course hits three times.  They were looking great well into their second loop, and it was awesome to get the chance to pass along well wishes.

The Strongs and I stuck together the whole run.  There had been the usual "you don't have to wait for me" and "run your own race" mutterings, I think we were all happiest for the company.  We spoke of many things (fools and kings), including upcoming hikes, family (good and bad), the run itself, potential future outings, trips to Portsmouth, and Coffee Talk with Linda Richmand.  For some reason, this classic Mike Myers character captivated Mr. Strong and myself- we passed probably 5 miles with impersonations.

Our spirits were definitely high.  Our bodies, however, had other ideas.  Mrs. Strong had been suffering from shin splints as a result of her 10k jaunt the day before.  Mr. Strong's knees were starting to have issues around the 15k mark, and ibuprofen wasn't keeping up with it.  I was just plain tired, and my feet felt like they were mincemeat.  We ran the last third of the race much slower than the first third, though despite her shin splints Mrs. Strong lived up to her name and was ready to kick ass and take names.  Mr. Strong urged us on.  We would run forward, waiting for him at aid stations or walking through a nice shady area.  I can't say I minded the pace.  I suppose we could have kept running, leaving Mr. Strong on his own, Mrs. Strong leaving me in the dust, but we had spent the last 3 hours together talking, working through our highs and lows, enjoying the day, activity, and company.  Why would I run away from that?  For a 10 minute earlier finish time?  Whatever.  Any finish got me a cowbell- I'd rather we crossed together as a symbol of our journy.

And that we did.  3:43:10 for all of us.  Three way hug, cowbells received, Mrs. Strong sat Mr. Strong down to rest his knees and brought him some restorative brew from Smutty Nose.  I had seen Puma in the field before we finished, so I knew she wasn't far behind.  I waited at the finish line, and sure enough there she comes, 3:49:47, looking strong.

Having started two hours before us, I knew My Runner and GB wouldn't be much father behind us.  I ran (yes, literally, after running 15.6 miles) to the car to get the camera for post-race pictures, meeting up with the rest of our camping group in the process.  I was hoping to meet up with my runner in the grove before the finish and run in with him.  I handed the camera to Puma and walked into the shady grove, scrutinizing every runner in a whit shirt, white visor, and dark shorts.

As I waited, an older runner walked into the grove having a hard time.  Suddenly he stopped, grabbing his thigh- he was cramping up.  I walked over to him and offered my assistance- salt tabs? ibuprofen? water? food?  I shifted to crew mode in .02 seconds.  He was so close to the finish... or so I thought.  He was running the 50 MILE!  He had one more loop to complete!  This guy had to be in his 60's, maybe older. Even though he was struggling I was thoroughly impressed by this man.  He politely declined my offers, thanked me for my assistance, and explained he'd been cramping since finishing his first loop.  We walked together as we chatted, and when we emerged from the grove he felt well enough to run a little.  I wish I had gotten his name or race number so I could follow up with his results.

The boys came in shortly after that.  As they crossed the road into the grove I fell in step with them and started talking with my runner, ready to run in with him.  GB had other ideas, challenging My Runner to a sprint to the finish.  I knew I didn't have that power, so I walked behind them, glad I gave Puma the camera to catch their finish.

We grabbed beers, chatting with some other runners from the area, and basked in the sunshine.  With all my nerves and emotional ups and downs, I didn't even stop to think that this was the longest distance I had run to date.  I was happy with my finish time, and had a great time running with the Strongs.  My ankle felt great, and I was excited to start a training schedule and get back out there with My Runner.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- 5k

Saturday promised to be a beautiful, if warm, day.  Five of us piled into Puma's car to head to Pineland Farms for the Saturday events: 10k, 5k Canicross, 5k, and Barefoot 5k.  We'd have representation in all but the Canicross, a 5k run with your doggie.  Puma, having just come off a 5 day through hike, would be taking the day off and enjoying the festival.

Me, Mrs. Strong, My Runner, and GB (photo by Puma- thx!)

And festival it was!  Tents with food, beer, free-bees, and music were spread out in the grove on campus.  Farmland, mostly hay fields, rolled out around us, inter-spaced with shady wooded areas.  There were dogs a-plenty, some ready to race, some just kickin' around.  Start and finish for all races were in this grove.

Mrs. Strong was participating in the 10k, starting an hour before the other events, and we got her registered and in line just in time.  Thank goodness the race started late!  Since the Muddy Moose where she ran 14 miles for the first time, Mrs. Strong has been running with her neighbor and, while rushed to get started, seemed very confident in her abilities.

Mrs. Strong, putting her sneakers on at the starting line

Shortly after the 10k, the Canicross event started.  I think they wanted all the poochies off the course when the other 5k events begin.  It was fun to see all the different kind of dogs that were running.  From huge labs to tiny terriers, just about every type of dog was represented.  Personalities of the dogs matched the owners, as the elite runners moved to the front, and their competitive dogs barked, jumped, and pranced.

Canicross start.  That little pup almost got hisself CHOMPED.

The 5k start was next.  I'm the only one participating in this, with My Runner and GB both participating in the Barefoot 5k, starting 10 minutes after mine.  This is the first run I've done in 6 weeks.  Other than one hockey game and a couple of workout videos, I haven't moved since April 24th, the day I tore my left ankle to shreds.  My goal was to finish uninjured and see if I would be able to participate in tomorrow's 25k.

::Hugs::

My Runner sees me to the starting line.  I'm nervous, but ready to get out there.  I feel good, despite the MASSIVE hangover I woke up with.  My ankle is in check, and as long as I don't space out, I should be able to run these trails without falling.

I am SO. OUT. OF. SHAPE.  I walked about 30% of the race.  Running alone isn't my favorite, but not many folks were into chatting.  Still, the scenery was pretty, and I was focused on scanning the trail for potential hazards.  The elite runners in the barefoot start passing me just before mile 2, and as the course folds back in on itself I see My Runner and GB.

Waving and smiling, all I could think was, "don't let them catch you."  That motivated me.  That and trying not to get my picture taken while I was walking (fail, see below)

See that ripped dude behind me?  Yeah, he's running.  Not this girl.

Still, they were a bit behind, and I was getting winded.  I "ultra walked" the hills to conserve and catch my breath.  Then I'd walk the flats.... that was an ego blow.  Chatting with another 5ker who was not used to hills helped pass the time, but as more and more Barefooters passed me, and as I got closer to the finish line, I kicked it in gear (not high gear- don't have that one right now... just not neutral).  Finished the race in 34:38.

Mrs. Strong had come in shortly after I started at 1:05:28- an excellent time.  The Barefooters came in 26:09/10, yes, less than 2 minutes behind me.  Was happy to catch this bit of action:

Boys....

In my good days, an 11 minute mile would have made me sad.  Saturday, I was happy to have finished feeling good, and even happier that Smuttynose had sponsored the race, offering unlimited free beer to runners.  I still wasn't sure participating in the 25k was a good idea, but it was at least still an option.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- Preview

This Memorial Day weekend I'm heading up to Maine with a group of friends to camp and participate in the Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival.  I'm scheduled to run a 5k (3.1 mi) on Saturday at a 25k (15.5 mi) on Sunday.  This will be the first time I've run since I re-sprained my ankle on April 24th.  You know, the 5k run that was killing me because I was out of shape?  Yeah, that one.

I know I'm not in shape at all for these runs.  My ankle isn't 100% (best I can tell it's 80-90%, but it hasn't really been tested yet).  I should be able to jog the 5k in 45 minutes, and I have 9 hours to finish the 25k.  You'd have to average 35 minute miles to but up against that deadline.  With my ankle in a brace, I could walk 15.5 miles and finish well under the cutoff time- something I may do.

I'm chomping at the bit to get back to running.  Feeling my body morph from lean and fit to soft over the last few weeks has been pretty demoralizing.  The weather has been beautiful, but I've yet to be able to play outside.  I have plans for long hikes and a few other races this summer, including relaying the VT 50 with my dad, and I'd like to be healthy and ready to take them on.  Healthy, of course, is a combination of being physically fit enough for the challenges and having strength back in my ankle.

So, I will "run" these two races this weekend.  I WILL be careful.  I'm not looking to set speed records here. I'm thinking of it as dipping my toe in the pond, testing the waters.  How will my ankle hold up?  My body?  How sore will I be?  What do I need to focus on when I restart my training?  What type of cross-training will help strengthen my weak spots?

No matter what the results of my "testing" are, this weekend promises to be fun.  A good reminder as we memorialize loved ones that life goes on, and the best way to remember those that are gone is to enjoy our lives to the fullest, as they would have wanted for us.

MMT 100- Crew Report

Entrance to Caroline Furnace Camp

We arrived at Caroline Furnace Camp in Fort Valley, VA in time for the pre-race meeting. The race director reiterates all the important stuff from the website and points out important people. The runners grab their race packets, we get some grub and set up camp. It's 8pm by the time we roll into our sleeping bags, but since the alarm went off at 3am, we're ready for bed. My very chivalrous Runner gives me the sleeping pad- I feel like a wimp accepting, but he won't take no for an answer. Only later do I realize he knows he's not going to get any sleep anyways: his mind already running the miles ahead.

The alarm goes off at 4am, giving us enough time to put on clothes and eat breakfast before the start of the race at 5am. My Runner and Ultra Dad pose for a few photos, line up with the other 180 runners, and with a shout, they're off. We had briefly gone over the plan the night before, and someone had mentioned it would be 9am before they arrived at the first Aid Station (AS) with crew access, Edinburg Gap. 4 hours to go 11 miles seemed a little slow, but perhaps they knew something about the terrain that I didn't. Kiddo and I head back to camp to catch some z's. We planned to arrive around 8-ish so we would have time to get a good spot but not have to wait too long.

Kiddo and I got to Edinburg Gap at 8:15am. There were about 7 people standing around. We unloaded the Binto Bar (a pack the size of a Rubbermaid tote), the camp chair and the cooler, and settled in. Someone asks if the last runner has come through yet... oh shit... CREW FAIL! Checking with the volunteer in charge of timing, I find we missed them by mere minutes. I try to keep my voracious swearing under my breath, but I'm beating myself up. My one responsibility and I fail at it. I'll be damned if I miss them at another AS.

My Runner and Ultra Dad coming in to Edinburg Gap.  Thanks random photog for catching my missed moment.

The next AS we could be at was mile 32, Elizabeth Furnace. I estimated a 10-minute mile, knowing that even feeling good they wouldn't go faster than 12-minute miles. But the sun was shining, the air was warm, and I would rather be way early than miss them AGAIN. I had no idea what they might have needed at the first AS that I wasn't there to provide- blister prevention, Gu, sun screen, bug spray... The stations were well stocked with food, water, and Gatorade, so I knew they wouldn't be hungry or thirsty. I didn't know if My Runner would be fuming that I wasn't there or worried that something happened to us. (The second. He's a nice guy. I was fuming at myself.)

Crewing is a "hurry up and wait" activity. We got to Elizabeth Furnace about 3 hours before the guys showed up. I put on sun screen, moved the stuff closer and closer to where the runners come in, chatted with folks, and generally hopped around anxiously. Kiddo did his best to amuse himself without phone or internet, which was kind of a stretch for him. He IS thirteen after all.

Temps were high and the guys were wilting as they came in. Food, water, sun screen, cold Boost and iced tea, refill on Gu, and a bit of a rest. Kissed My Runner and they were off. Not long before we'd see them again- 5 miles later at Shawl Gap. Of course in those 5 miles they'd be going 1000 feet up, AND 1000 feet down.

Check the elevation change between #5 and #6.

I'm telling you, this terrain was beautiful, but RUGGED. Ever driven on the Kancamagus Highway in NH through the Whites? Yeah, something like that. I mean, I've run 5 miles under an hour, but that was in friggin' Lowell. These 5 miles took two experienced and strong runners just under 2 hours to tackle. Ultra Dad came in strong, but My Runner was downtrodden. I shared words of encouragement from Sherpa, who had called when I miraculously had service. They were in and out at Shawl Gap and ready to move on. Good thing- as much as I love hanging out with my honey, time at an AS is time wasted.

After a not-so-brief trip to Wal Mart where Kiddo and I ostensibly picked up supplies for our runners, but really were just killing time and grabbing dinner, we headed to Habron Gap, mile 53. The scenery on the drives was breathtaking. The sun was setting and the guys hadn't taken headlamps with them. Too heavy to carry 20 miles, but useful to, you know, see when it's dark. The runners come in to Habron on a wide gravel road, so at least it was a safe(ish) place to not be able to see your footing. My Runner came in feeling pretty good sometime between 8 and 9pm, having gotten a second (or third, or thirtieth) wind now that the temps dropped with the night. He asked how close to the cut-off he was (each aid station will pull runners if they arrive after a certain time), and I tell him he's got a bit more than 2 hours. The Reaper is chasing them, but not too closely.

He was about 10 minutes ahead of Ultra Dad, who came in dragging. Kiddo was psyched up because Ultra Dad had been talking about him pacing the guys, ie, stepping in and running some miles with them; a true Team Robert.  Kiddo's not a runner, but he does bike and swim competitively, and I think getting the chance to "help" on this run really inspired him.

But Ultra Dad was done. He had dehydrated, and that messed up his feet and his back (so many crazy things happen as a result of dehydration in these endurance sports...) I could see in his posture he had given up. Finally My Runner had to head out- he had stayed way too long. Kiddo pleaded, whined, goaded, enticed, I even through a few carrots up for him, but to no avail. Ultra Dad was done at 53.6 miles.

I knew this could be tough on My Runner mentally and emotionally. He started running Ultras BECAUSE of his dad. They were a team.  I'd get to break the news to him in 10 miles at Camp Roosevelt, by which time he had already guessed.

We're now well after midnight, and I'm bushed. I haven't even run today, but hauling gear to and from the truck, anxiously awaiting the runners, listening to a 13-year-old prattle on about energy drinks and video games... it's enough to tranquilize a horse. I gave Ultra Dad some time to pull himself together after running 53 miles, we drop another runner off at the start/finish whose blisters have taken him out of the race, and head to the next AS. I help the guys setup at the AS and take 20 minutes to snooze in the camp chair before beginning my AS ritual of restlessly pacing around. My Runner is in pain. He's gone through all his water, he's got a rash, he's tired. I give him what his body needs, then I try to give him what his spirit needs. Rubbing his back I encourage him to go on. Kiddo is ready to pace My Runner, and I think that helps seal the deal; he's ready to keep moving. Gap Creek is only 5 miles away, but just like the other short leg, it's a CLIMB. 1450 ft up, 1000 ft down.

Gap Creek is the most festive AS I've seen. Christmas lights line the trails. Acoustic covers of well known songs are playing. The station is serving pancakes, bacon, and eggs along with other standard AS fare. There's a fire pit where folks have gathered around, dozing. Runners sleepily clamber in, for it's now just before 4am; they've been at it for almost 23 hours. The course comes through here twice: once at 68.7 miles, and again at 95.4. We see some of the leaders coming in for their second round- these folks might still make 100 miles under 24 hours. There's a cot near the tents where runners can catch a quick nap- might be all they need to regain the strength to keep coming.

Ultra Dad and I pass some time chatting, but soon we're both nervously waiting at the trail head where the 68 milers are coming in. We can watch the headlamps of the runners as they descend the incline into the AS. They're so high up they look like fireflies in the sky. As My Runner and Kiddo come in around 4:20am, I can hear Kiddo yakking away. I pity My poor Runner and hope Kiddo has been more of a help than a hindrance. As he comes in, he asks how close he is to cutoff. "One hour," I told him, and I watched him deflate. Without admitting it, without him saying a word, without him consciously making a decision, I could see he was done. He took time before admitting what his body had already decided. Doing the math over and over in his head, factoring in the pain he was in, he realized there was no way he'd make the finish before the 36 hour cutoff. He relinquished his number to the AS volunteer, signaling his official dropout. 68.7 miles in exactly 24 hours.

Some runners view a DNF (Did Not Finish) as a black mark, a scourge. Some see it as a challenge to try again next year. I think My Runner is at peace with his decision. I'm proud of him for the hard miles he ran. The man barely trained, was (unknowingly) battling a chest cold, and ran for 24 hours, 68.7 rugged-ass miles.

I've written before about my love of crewing, and this race was no different.  I wish I hadn't missed the first AS, but luckily the guys weren't in much need and if there were any to miss, it was that one.  Hopefully I made up for it by being as prepared as possible with fuel for their bodies and their hearts.  Having to focus so intensely on someone else's needs is oddly freeing, almost meditative.  I'm able to push my own issues aside and trivialize my personal traumas, leaving room for a kind of calmness. I wonder if this is how my mother feels when she's nursing...

The Finisher's Belt Buckle

My Runner and I talked about next year on the ride home.  Would he come back for another attempt?  Would Ultra Dad?  What does he want from Massanutten?  A finisher's buckle?  Time with his father?  These questions are still unanswered, but My Runner did quote, "The will to finish means nothing without the will to train."

Massanutten Mountain Trail Race- Crew Preview

We're somewhere in upstate NY heading down to Virginia  once again- this time with My Runner's pop Ultra Dad and his half brother Kiddo.  The MMT is a 100 mile race in the mountains of VA, which My Runner attempted for the first time last year. While Ultra Dad has completed MMT before, the course has been re-routed this year keeping it fresh even for veterans.
Initially the plan was to crew with Kiddo for the first 63 miles, then if needed jump in and pace. Since my ankle has been bum, Ib obviously haven't been running, never minding training to pace.
Not being able to pace has been the biggest disappointment of this injury. It was one of my goals this year, and had I stayed innjury-free I could have acheived it.
On the bright side, I'm very much on the mend.  Mrs. Strong lent me a bracer the I canuse walking or sporting, and wearing it has helped. And because I'm stubborn, I brought my running gear.
Crewing for the two guys should be interesting. The weather is supposed to be lovely tomorrow, which is great since the majority of the drive down has been in pouring rain on crappy roads with old wind sheild wipers. I'm actually looking forward to the crewing experience again. Sorta like my Mom once desceibed working in the ER: hours of nothing interrupted by a few minutes of crazy.
Kiddo seems like a good kid, though I'm thoroughly UN-versed in the interests of thirteen-year-old boys. So far I've learned he has a love/hate relationship with his iPhone, changes the parts on his mountain bike often, and his very favoritest thing is Dunkin' Donuts White Hot Chocolate. Go figure.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?!

I did it again.  I broke myself.  Again.

Three weeks ago I rolled my left ankle at the Tuesday Night NHSSC Hockey finals.  It hurt, I had to walk around the track, but I was still able to finish the game.  I gave it a few days, then started taping it and was back to running and hiking.  Last Saturday, the morning of the move, My Runner, Puma Girl, and I ran in a 5K trail run hosted by EMS.  It was hard- I hadn't been training much and boy was I feeling it.  The trail was primarily uphill for the first part of the course, and it was taking the mickey out of me.  I realized I should probably slow down when my tunnel vision prevented me from seeing a root, which I then tripped on and fell flat on the ground.  No worries, brushed my self off and kept going, albeit at a slower pace.

At the top of the hill My Runner was waiting for me.  (Puma Girl was battling her own owies, so she took it slow.)  I was tired, so it was nice to have the company.  The view was beautiful at the top of the hill, and My Runner's chatting with me about training etc.  We were running downhill, and I was starting to feel better.  I had the clarity in my brain to begin thinking about a training schedule, since I have a 25K (15.5mi) trail run coming up at the end of May, not to mention the possibility of pacing My Runner at Massenutten, so I shoul-

::Insert epic fall here::

I don't know if I tripped over anything.  I think my left foot came down on an uneven surface, and I felt the ankle start to roll.  Normally I would have just gone with it and it would have been fine, but since the ankle was already hurt, I then felt the pain of tearing, my ankle rolled further, and I went all the way down, rolling into the brush on the side of the trail.  And of course I was bawling.  I was feeling intense pain, but also rage and frustration.  I knew this was a bad injury.  I wasn't going to be able to walk it off.  

It took a long time to calm down.  The longer the pain was intense, the worse I felt emotionally.  Most people were lovely and expressed concern when they passed.  The Run Director stopped and checked in on me; she was so concerned.  I hiked about a mile out, first on My Runner's shoulder, then on Puma Girl's when she caught up to us and My Runner went to get the car.  

That was last Saturday.  After the sprain, I shopped around EMS for an hour or so (what? they were having a great sale!), iced it on the way to Manch, and MOVED (with the generous help of My Runner, My Parents, and some friends).  I tried to be brave and I tried to help, but I was in a lot of pain the whole day.

It's 6 days later and I'm still in pain.  It's better.  It's healing.  But there's still a good amount of swelling.  I have bruising halfway up my calf and down into my foot.  Unpacking last night left me limping again.  I keep it wrapped most of the time and ice it on and off throughout the day.  Had to bail from a wicked fun sounding 5K this Sunday, and needless to say that training schedule I was working on when I fell has been tabled.  

Most of the time I'm level headed about it.  I realize that there's nothing I can do but do my best to help it heal.  Stay off it as much as possible, don't get back to running or hiking too soon.  Sometimes I get caught in the pit of despair, though.  I start thinking about the events I've committed to, and especially as the weather gets nicer how much I want to be outside running or hiking.  I think of how "behind" I am in training.  I feel my waistline expanding as my caloric burn reduces but my eating habits don't change.  

I fell into the downward spiral this past Monday after watching my team play hockey without me.  My Runner noticed, and quoted me to me: "Don't let something you can't change ruin a perfectly good night."  I hate it when My Runner outsmarts me with... me.  But, at least I still end up being "right."  :-)  I'm trying to heed my advice this time and not get too down about being injured.  It sucks, but why should I let that ruin my life?  It's not forever.

A Walk in the Woods

Saturday I went on a brief hike in Fox Forest with My Runner and our friends the Strongs.  The Strongs are hiking the Long Trail in VT for 30 days this summer, so we're testing new gear and getting some miles in together.  My Runner and I will be hiking in a bit here and there during their trip.

It was rainy and much colder than it's been the last few weeks, but I was so happy to be outside it didn't matter.  Well, proper rain gear and the absence of a pack helped.  The Strongs brought their dachshund Seamus, who was pretty rugged for the 5 mile hike in the rain.  My Runner had started cleaning up some of the trails in Fox (ok, I helped a *little*), and it was very obvious what was worked on and what still needs work. 

Ridge Trail in Fox Forest

The Strongs are a great couple.  My Runner and Mr. Strong met in college and have been friends since.  Both Mr. & Mrs. Strong are athletic, mainly backpacking and doing yoga.  They work in high-stress jobs in the high-stress state of Massachusetts, so the fact that they're very laid back people with open minds and hearts is even more amazing.  Spending the morning hiking with them gave me great joy.

Being the busy social bee I am, that afternoon I drove to northern NH for a reunion of an outdoor adventure class I took as a senior in High School.  This is the course that gave me the (small amount of) knowhow and confidence to do things like backpacking, hiking, and other outdoor activities.  It was great to see people I had such intense experiences with over ten years ago, and how much we still had in common.  It was also great to see Coach, our teacher, again.  Coach MADE this class.  Literally and figuratively.  He still teaches in, in a slightly different form at a different school, but the class is by him and will likely die when he retires.  You could call it a cult of personality, but I think it's his sheer drive and love for what he does.  Not just outdoor education, but self-education.  I learned more about me, about what I can do and accomplish, about my limits and the limitations I put on myself, in that one class in one year than I had the first 18 years of my life.  And I was happy to get the chance to tell Coach that, even at (almost) 30 I still feel the effects of his coaching every day.

Group Photo. Coach is the tall guy in the back

Back to Hillsboro where My Runner and the Strongs were partying down.  The next morning hailed a race: the Muddy Moose.  For me and Mr. Strong, a 4 miler.  For My Runner and Puma Girl, 14 miles.  Mrs. Strong piped up during the partying-down, "I could run the 14 miler."  HELLS YEAH was the unanimous response, even though she had never run more than 7 miles.  We all went to bed too late and with too much beer in our bellies.

The next morning arrived EARLY.  The clouds were still hanging low, but the temps were warmer than the predicted 30's and 40's; thank goodness for small blessings.  We loaded into the cars four an hour plus drive to the muddiest trails I've seen.

Running 4 miles felt like 10 on these trails.  You could run extra lengths and bushwhack through the trees to avoid the mud and puddles, or you could dive right in and hope you don't turn your ankle on a hidden rock or stump.  Either way you were gonna get wet and dirty.  I chose for option number 2 most of the time, but boy does that take a LOT of energy.  Each foot had an extra pound or so from sand and water.  You never know how deep you're gonna go, so you land harder on every step.  You're constantly ready to loose your balance, so all your stabilizer muscles are on alert.  I've never had more fun on a race!  I wish I hadn't been nursing an ankle, I totally would have gone for the 14 miler (and probably died in the process, but died smiling!)

Playing in the mud

Mrs. Strong DID do the 14, and kicked it's muddy ass!

Mrs. Strong, living up to her name

After the race, changing into dry socks, shoes, and clothes, we headed back to Hillsboro for some hearty food, kitty snuggling, and quality couch time.  That's the other benefit of being a runner- couch time is *restorative,* and therefore totally acceptable.  :-)

Dolphin Challenge, Part 1

Towne Bank 8K, 3/20, Virginia Beach, VA

Net time: 51:50

The alarm went off at 6am, much earlier than a vacation alarm ought to.  The race started at 8am; we'd planned to meet Pocket and her friend K at 7:30am.  We took advantage of the early start to watch the sun rise over the Atlantic from our room, a sight I’ve rarely witnessed over the water, never mind take the time to enjoy when I have to be up so early. 

We split homemade egg and bagel sandwiches from the day before, frozen from the hard-working mini-fridge.  I’m not used to eating so soon after waking up; usually I don’t eat for an hour or two after waking up and finishing my coffee.  We headed out into the chill morning air with the 20,000 other runners towards Neptune to meet up with our friends, jogging on the way to stay warm.  A few minutes of searching through the crowd and I spoted Pocket and K.  We paused for photo op, and moved to the back of the pack at the start line, almost 4 blocks from the actual starting line.

It took us ten minutes to cross the starting line with all the people running.  I looked around at the folks in costumes, kilts, wigs, funny hats, crazy makeup.  I love the spirit these people bring to a race- makes it feel like a party.  I wish I had the balls or patience to run in a crazy getup.  Maybe someday I’ll go all out for a 5k.  When I helped my dad by working an October Fest 12k, one of the entrants ran the whole thing in lederhosen and a purple felt fedora with a feather! Even more impressive are parents running with child-filled strollers. 

Technically we were not allowed to run with iPods, dogs, or strollers, but obviously people were ignoring those rules.  While I’m always impressed at someone’s performance with the extra burden of a child and stroller, I wish more people had followed the guidelines.  With 20thousand people these things become a danger to others.  iPods make it impossible to hear a runner coming up behind you with an “on your right,” or “excuse me.”  Even the most well trained dogs can act out in a large crowd, or a spectator’s dog can go bananas at the site of a dog in the race, causing an upset to runners.  Strollers become battering rams.  With crowds this big, passing is difficult enough with just one’s own body.  Passing with the stroller-equivalent of a tank is nigh impossible.  We ran alongside a man on the boardwalk who spent his whole run yelling at people in front of him to make way.  Wouldn’t it be more fun to let your child stand on the sidelines with other family or friends than having them hear you yell at strangers? 

My biggest challenge of this 8k (4.9 miles for those of you not versed in computing, like me,) was staying together with Pocket and My Runner.  We spend the ENTIRE race weaving in and out of people.  My Runner was always in front of us, which  alternately motivated and infuriated me.  In any case, it kept us running and kept us challenged.  It gave Pocket and I a chance to catch up on each other's lives now that she lives three states away.  

The race started cool but weather warmed up quickly.  I took off my “sleeves” and rolled up the sleeves to my long-sleeved under shirt pretty quickly.  By the time we were on the south end of the “boardwalk” (made from cement… non-traditional but dualy functional- take it up with the Army Corps of Engineers, I suppose) it was well in to the 60’s and sunny. 

It was around this time I needed a little “inspiration.”  When running is hard, or I need a smile, or I’m just feeling frisky, I’ll grab a handful of My Runner’s well-developed runner’s butt.  Sorry if that’s TMI, but seriously, if you felt that ass you’d be willing to run for  miles too, whether it was to emulate it or to tap it.  Seriously.  It’s that good.

Ok, I’ll get back to the narrative.  I needed inspiration, so I went to get me some.  Unfortunately, My Runner sped up just as I grabbed my “piece” and this poor girl he had been passing got a full body check from yours truly.  Now, in hockey terms this was no big deal.  I probably wouldn’t even apologize for the minor infraction in the course of a normal game.  But with running, well, it's not a contact sport.  I expressed my apologies pretty profusely, but I don't think she was impressed.  I turned back to Pocket for corroboration, then realized I just ran over this chick in an attempt to grab ass.  I was the dick in this scenario, no getting around that.  Awwwww….  Still, inspiration was given, and that girl now had a story to tell.

We swerved from the boardwalk back onto Atlantic Ave. to run past the Start line.  Around that time I *thought* we were done, I started pulling more gas from the tank.  Pocket and I talked a little about that.  I love the end of a race, where you know how much is left and you can empty your tank and make a strong finish.  Well, turns out one should study the course in order to use this functionality (apparently it's a figure 8).  There were more miles left than I had anticipated when I was ready to “empty the tank.” 

We took one last turn onto the “boardwalk” for the finish.  K was waiting for us on the curve, camera in hand.  This was the first time I’d had a “fan,” and I was WAY more excited than I ever thought I would be.  Honestly she was out there for Pocket, the promise of sharing Pocket's free beers (she's not much of a drinker, like My Runner and I), and because it was convenient (a measly 8 blocks from her current residence).  I mean, she seemed genuinely excited to see us round the corner, but I wouldn’t expect someone to be out there if it weren’t for the same kind of circumstances.  Still, it felt AWESOME to see her.  We rounded the curve, headed into the sunlight, and were greeted with the awesome Neptune: Ward of the Finish Line.

Heading towards Neptune with Pocket and My Runner and almost 20thousand others, I felt giddy.  I started cheering us all on, "Woooo"-ing at full voice.  Here we all were, on the beautiful beach, spending time together, being active, and participating in an event with tens of thousands of people.  That's not nothing.  We crossed a pre-finish line; I realized this was so our names would come up on the screen from our “D-Tags.”  The MC announced the names of the finishers, which was pretty killer.  My Runner’s name was announced, my name was (mispro)nounced, and Pocket’s name was announced.  We all crossed the finish together, feeling fine and ready to take in the beer and the sun.

The race organizers had set up a long corral, allowing finishers to walk after their run, pickup our finishers medal, t-shirt, food, water, and any other swag they were handing out, before finally turning into the beer tent area, serving exclusively Yeungling beer.  We grabbed some beers, and Pocket and I went off in search of K.  Once we were all found, we kicked off our shoes and relaxed in the sand, toasting our wonderful day.

Wild Rover Series, 3 of 3

Hynes Tavern 5-miler, 3/14, Lowell, MA

Net Time: 49:05, mile avg: 9:50

Woke up at 8:45am, unsure if the faint smell of beer was coming from me or from the massive amount of empties left from the Epic St. Patty's Day Party.  While I wasn't hungover (thanks, Mom and Dad, for the excellent purification system), I was SUPER tired.  I must be getting too old for 4:30am bedtimes.  Still, I eventually roused myself and headed downstairs and tiptoed amongst the overnight guests to get ready.

There was new fallen snow/slush on the ground in Hillsboro.  I knew Lowell wouldn't have snow, but it would be cold, rainy, and likely windy.  I borrowed some nifty techie thermal undies from My Runner (thanks babe!), toasted a bagel, downed a cuppa, and headed out.

I'm glad I bundled up as much as I did.  I arrived with plenty of time to nap a bit in my car before heading to the starting line.  The turnout was smaller than the race directors had anticipated, but still pretty impressive.  I was struck by how nonchalant the start was.  The last two races had national anthems, this one had nothing but a guy yelling "Go!" on a bull horn.  Another runner commented about the inability to purchase a gun in Lowell, and I realized that gunshots in Lowell are probably NOT the safest way to start a race.

I was apprehensive about this race.  It's the longest in the series and I had the worst training week.  I ran one... maybe two days since the prior race, plus hockey.  Not really a good way to prepare for my longest race to date.  I had even briefly considered not going, but halted that thought process pretty quickly.  My Runner rightly pointed out that the finishers medal would look super lame with just two of the three pieces, and that thought got me out there.  Now, to keep me going forward.

The first mile was pretty easy.  Wearing my new waterproof EMS jacket and a hat, I stayed relatively dry.  My hands were raw, but it was warm enough with my hood up that they would warm up soon.  But I was going too fast.  I could feel myself pushing, wanting to get out of the weather, not enjoying the run.  I needed a pacer.  So I found one.  A woman, a little shorter than me, with a long thick brown ponytail, wearing the Frozen Shamrock race shirt and a vest.  She was running with an easy stride, passing a few folks but mostly just running.  Something about her speed and the way she was running spoke to me.  So, like the creepy stalker that I am, I ran behind her.

I don't know why I didn't run up and talk to her.  I wasn't feeling very communicative that day (having turned down the generous offer from Face to accompany me to the race- I didn't want anyone to have to stand in the rain for an hour just to see me run by).  Sometimes I followed her closely, sometimes I let her get a bit ahead. Just after the 3 mile mark we went down a hill where she was just more willing to pound than I was.  I was getting tired and needed to throttle back to make it another mile and change.  She never had more than about a 20 second lead on me, which on a city course meant I could still see her most of the time.  After the race I found her, went up to her, and thanked her, letting her know that she pulled me and challenged me at the same time.  She seemed surprised, but totally happy.

While there were hills on this course, the most challenging aspect was the weather.  Rain, yeah, chilly, yeah, WIND oh yeah.  Running through a cemetery we were all blasted by a headwind that made the rain fall sideways.  Getting to the finish line felt like sprinting even though I was running at the same pace.

This is the one race I did not get my free beer.  Figuring I'd had enough beers the previous night, and my pants and shoes combined weighed an extra 10 lbs with the water, I was ready for home.  I was tired, but it felt damn good to have my finisher's medal.

Wild Rover Series, 2 of 3

Claddagh Pub 4-miler, 3/7, Lawrence, MA

Net time: 39:10, mile avg: 9:48

My Runner called me at 8:25am to let me know he was almost at my house.  Wow, I thought to myself, he's running early.  Must be perky this morning.  Come to find out he thought we were leaving an hour earlier... whoops.  Not sure if that was my bad or his, but I felt kinda guilty about it...

I was feeling good, despite having returned from my sojourn to my alma matter with Pocket after midnight the previous night.  It was a beautiful day, sunny and in the high 50's.  We were meeting my Dad in Lawrence for the race- the first time My Runner and Dad would meet.  Dad was there around the time we were taking off from ManchVegas, giving him plenty of time to warm up his creaky old joints (ok, he's only 59, but he said it first.)

We found (dubious) parking and headed down to the Claddagh parking lot to meet up with Dad and get my number (My Runner was "bandit" running- he didn't pay the entrance fee and had no number).  We killed a little time with introductions and catching up, then headed over to the starting line where My Runner and I lead Dad to the back of the pack.  "How far back we goin'?" Dad quips.  I just wanted to be in the sun.  Plus it's more fun to pass people than to be passed.

Sidebar- most races play the national anthem before the start, like a traditional sporting event.  Often it's a recording, or it's some kid who sings in the local church choir/community theatre/karaoke contest who belts it out and sharps that high note.  Generally, it's awful and doesn't make me feel patriotic in the least.  The group that the Claddagh race director hired sang *beautifully.*  A trio of women (or girls, I couldn't actually see them) singing in a capella harmony, hitting every note in clear, strong, and blended voices.  I'm not a super patriotic person, but I was moved.

The race was an easy start, bringing us through downtown Lawrence before moving out into neighborhoods.  As I started the run I noticed I was leading, with Dad and My Runner a bit behind.  My Runner had just run a snowshoe marathon the day before, so I knew he wasn't at full strength.  But I was a little surprised my Dad was having trouble keeping up.  I checked to make sure I wasn't pushing it *because* of my Dad... and I wasn't.  Hmm... Still not sure if he was faking it, but in any case it made me feel pretty good about my very very average 9:30 mile.  Dad asked My Runner to snap some photos of us:

Lawrence is an ugly city.  I'm sorry.  I wish it wasn't, but even downtown had no redeeming qualities.  It's a good thing they put this race on, or I'm not sure why ANYONE would ever choose to visit.

As Dad and My Runner talked about races, Ultras, and folks they both knew (or knew of) I was struck (again) by how similar they are.  Yes, perhaps I am a cliché.  One thing I admire about my Dad (and My Runner) is that he says what he thinks, other people's opinions be damned.  There are plenty of times in life where this is a good quality.  There are also some times when this is socially awkward, like when Dad basically (but maybe jokingly) called My Runner a pussy for running with his Pops even though he had a slower pace.  I can't remember if THIS is the comment my Dad made that prompted me to call him an ass, or if it was another....  Seriously, what did he think *I* was doing at this race?  Did he think I was a pussy runner?  Was he a pussy runner if he was slowing down for me?  Dad has some good qualities, but he definitely IS an ass when he doesn't think about how other people will react to what he says.

The course is shaped like a lollypop: go in one way, loop around, and go back the way you came.  The loop around was really the only challenging part of the course, as it went up a significantly steep and long-ish hill.  Training in Hillsboro paid off.  It was challenging, no doubt, but more than do-able.  As we descend the hill, Dad turns to me, "I'm thirsty!" for beer, is the inference.  Another runner, a man about my Dad's age, comes up behind us.  "Me too!  Got any beer in those water bottles?"  We joke around for a bit with him as we headed back down to the finish line.

I kept pulling ahead, motivated by the sunshine, warm weather, and full bladder, but pulling back again not wanting to leave the guys.  As we round (and round) the final blocks, the finish line comes into view with the big clock just seconds away from 40:00 minutes.  I really wanted a sub-40 minute time.  Well, ok, I really wanted to sprint and let it all out.  I spit out an "I'm going for it" to the guys and bolted.

The guys were content to come in at their own pace.  Probably a good thing since my stomach was maybe a little pukey feeling after the sprint.

We collected our medals and headed in for our free beers.  There seemed to be pasta too, but my tummy was happy with just beer (is that a problem? nahhh...).  Dad was very complimentary towards my running, and I was happy to be able to run by his side.  After our free beers we headed back to MachVegas for some food and more socializing.