I met up with April-Anne last night for some quality running in the woods. Just as I was pulling into the parking lot, I could see her in her car finishing up some type of snack. I had just nibbled the last of my Lion King Fruit Snacks (which are much more enjoyable than gel, by the way...c'mon, they come in bug-shapes!) and was ready to go.

We hit the trails, and once we got over the first hill, we picked up the pace for the first, mostly flat, mile. We are not good for each other. We can't pace ourselves so we just run fast. And then a little faster, since we assume the other person wants to push the pace. Do we bother to check in and ask about desired pace? Hell, no. We just push.

So it came as no surprise really when April-Anne asked me if we were going fast. We were doing about 8:24 mpm at that point, which is fast for us on the trails. We stopped at the 2-mile mark and walked for a few minutes as April-Anne was feeling a bit sick to her stomach. Her turkey with mayo sandwich was not sitting well at all. I felt a little dizzy myself from the hard effort.

We caught our breath, picked back up and I kept a closer eye on our pace, trying to keep us around 9:00 mpm. As we started our last mile, April-Anne told me to go ahead and she would jump in when I came back around. She walked again, while I looped through a field and then she joined me as I passed by. We wrapped up the run just shy of 5 miles. I have no idea what our time was since my dizziness apparently rendered me clueless in the operation of Fred, the Nike gadget.

I got an email from April-Anne today, detailing to me just how sick she was when she got home. Poor thing! And there she was, pushing herself last night when I am sure she just wanted to crawl into her car and go home. What a soldier!

In other fitness-related news, I tried my first spin class on Tuesday. I arrived early, listened to the basics from the instructor (translated: I smiled and nodded alot and had no idea what she was talking about) and then fit myself onto a bike. After the warm up, we started a series of 'jumps' where we went from seated to standing, repeatedly. It felt like some type of manic Simon-says game. The instructor had warned me that I might have to sit out a few jumps and just pedal to recover, but overly-confident Dianna thought 'Bah! I'm a runner. I swim. I can handle some silly jumps.'

Rrriiiggghhhtt.

I got through about 5 or 6 and had to sit, pedal and recover...with my ego in check and my tail between my legs, I took a few deep breaths to control my heart rate. I tried to look busy, wiping away sweat and drinking Gatorade. I reluctantly joined back in, a little fearful of how hard the rest of the class was going to be and wondering if my quads would ever stop burning.

I was reminded of when I first started racing 5Ks and would pass the start line thinking 'This is FUN!' and about five minutes later think 'This SUCKS. I'm never doing this again!' I pushed through the 'This SUCKS' part, hoping that there would be a 'This is FUN' part on the other side of those jumps.

And there was fun to be found...The quads warmed up and burned less; I kicked ass on the 'hills'; and I made it through the second set of jumps without having to sit. Phew! I should confess that I took it easy with the resistance since this was my first class and I didn't want to have to be carried out on a stretcher. The next day, the only reminder I had of the activity was my tender bits were a bit tender from the seat (with padded shorts no less!). I'm looking forward to my next class!

Hope everyone else has been able to mix things up a little bit and try new things!

New Haven Road Race, Monday, September 5, 2005, 8:30 a.m.

Much like the Boston Marathon, this is a Monday race, held on Labor Day each year. Different from Boston, this race starts early while temperatures are still manageable. The city of New Haven (in Connecticut) is home to the world's best pizza, Yale University, wonderful shops. museums and art galleries, and most recently, Ikea.

I have run in this race twice and cannot say enough great things about the course, the neighborhood support, the other runners and the FREE BEER afterwards!

The race offers a 20K and a 5K - as well as a Kid's Fun Run - and all courses are flat and fast. The 20K weaves throughout New Haven, through some historic neighborhoods, passes by New Haven harbor and winds around the bottom of East Rock Park. The 5K has no hills to speak of and passes through historic neighborhoods as well. Both races start at the same time and head in opposite directions (lined up back-to-back with the 20K heading one way and the 5K heading the other way).

There are water stations at every mile, with 10 bands playing along the 20K course and 2 bands on the 5K course. A "spirit" contest in the neighborhoods encourages community involvement and enhances the runners' enjoyment of the race. The large crowds, posters and music generated by the contest are greatly appreciated. (Admittedly, there are a few areas where supporters are scarce. But for the most part, spectators can be seen and heard along the way.)

This race attracts elite athletes, including names like Ryan Shay, Meb Keflezighi, Dan Browne, Colleen de Reuck and Marla Runyon. This is the USA 20K Championship with a prize purse of $30,000 for US athletes.

The party following the race is great fun...FREE BEER (Red Hook) for the runners and entire loaves of yummy, crusty bread. Plus the requisite fruit, donuts, cookies etc. Not to keep going back to the beer, but let me tell you, this particular cup of beer tastes so unbelievable to me after running this race. And it instantly makes my knees all warm and jello-like.

I posted about it last September, if you want to read details or refresh your memory.

It was an un-official RBF meeting last year, with FIVE RBFer's all there at the same time. Four of us, April-Anne, Michelle, Annalisa and me, all hung out prior to the start of the race. Alison was there as well, but we never got a chance to connect with her (Incidentally, she was the SECOND overall female and placed top in her age division, crossing the line in 18:44!!).

Considering how many people that I know will be at this race already (in addition to the RBF, I know there will be some other runner-friends there too), I am thinking that I might need to set up a canopy with chairs and other amenities. Maybe coordinate a dinner somewhere the night before too.

Let me know if you are thinking about adding this race to your schedule or if you have questions, comments, etc. about this race! If the only thing holding you back from coming is hotel costs, I can probably help you make other arrangements - JUST LET ME KNOW!

Did I mention the FREE BEER?

Saturday morning, I set out for my weekend 'long' run with the goal of doing nine miles, each one under nine minutes. I intentionally picked a route that I knew to be fairly flat, with the exception of the one-mile long hill from miles 7.5-8.5. When I left the house, it was cloudy and 60F degrees, with a chance of showers to come.

The weather didn't disappoint. About 3 miles later, the skies opened up and produced more than just a 'shower.' Within minutes, my shoes and socks were sopping wet and water was spilling off the brim of my baseball hat. Oddly, it didn't bother me. I actually found myself enjoying it.

To be honest, I usually avoid running when there's a chance of rain, even going so far as to rearrange my training schedule to avoid it. However, I've recently come to terms with the fact that I can't pick the weather on race day and I need to just run the race that's been put before me, so to speak. Triathlon training will leave little wiggle room to adjust the schedule based on weather, so it seemed prudent to get used to being in the rain.

I met my 9 under 9 goal, which was a huge ego boost even though I felt like I was cheating on such a flat route. I think my slowest mile was around a 8:45 or so; the rest were between 8:10-8:30. I was a little stunned by the pace, to be honest and thought that maybe the rain was messing with Fred, the Nike gadget. (OT: Even though the marathon is 6 months away, I'm already thinking about what I'd like my pace to be on marathon day, and 8:45 per mile seems like something I can strive for.)

Yesterday, I met up with two members of the Willimantic Athletic Club for a 'group' run. This time, the rain started before I even got out of my car. And again, I steeled myself against the drops for the love of running and hit the pavement. We peeled off 4.5 miles in 39 minutes at a nice even pace. Good run, good company...it's always over too soon when I'm out there with my running friends. And I could stand around and talk 'shop' for hours afterwards. Is that pathetic?

This afternoon will be another Chicks Run in the Woods. I'm feeling a little worn out from this weekend's effort and looking forward to seeing what I can push my legs to do tonight.

Tomorrow, look for a post about a regional RBF race proposal!

Today is my blog-a-versary.

I stumbled onto the running blogs via Sean's blog, which led me to Annalisa's blog and she's the one who encouraged me to start my very own blog instead of just being a lurker. The rest, as they say, is history. I now find myself a member of a warm, supportive community that inspires and encourages me even when they're not trying to!

To commemorate this day, I wanted to highlight a little bit of synchronicity that I stumbled across a couple of weeks ago:

Excerpt from Dean Karnaze's book:

...When asked why he was attempting to be the first to climb Mount Everest, George Mallory offered the famously laconic, "Because it's there." That seems to satisfy people enough for it to have become a famous adage. But it's really not much of an answer. Still, I can understand mallory's clipped response. When people ask me why I run such improbable distances for nights on end, I've often been tempted to answer with something like, "Because I can."....

My very first post said something along those same lines...

Good luck on all the races and runs taking place this weekend. Jon, that trail race is going to be a blast!!

Two days after the race, and I am acutely aware of muscles that I didn't even know existed. The soreness I'm experiencing is very close to my post-marathon soreness. The stairs are not my friend.

I'm sure it has nothing to do with the 10-mile trail race and then the 4.5 miles I ran yesterday, or the 2.5 mile hike plus the hour and a half I spent dragging trash down a hill (trail clean-up project). What an idiot. I guess a productive weekend comes at a cost.

To get some perspective on the steep hills from Saturday's race, I found this site that has pictures from last year's event. If you look past the featured runner in each photo, at the runner's still coming up the hill, that will give you some idea of the steepness...and even that doesn't do the hill justice. And that was just ONE of the hills.

I remember wondering to myself how the 'ultra' folks can just fly down steep hills without flipping over. Talk about being fearless.

Today will be a rest day. For real. NO MATTER HOW NICE IT IS OUTSIDE!

After carb loading, hydrating and a fitful night's sleep, I crawled out of bed at an hour I usually reserve only for 'traveling' (read: cheap flights).

I was in the car by 6:20 a.m. and on the road to my first ever trail race.

I arrived at race registration at 8:00 a.m. and 'checked in'-- which loosely translated into 'received my t-shirt.' There were no bib numbers, no official list of names...just a hot pink sticker with my name on it.

I wandered around, stretched, jogged, hydrated, un-hydrated (potty break) and enjoyed a little snack (Lion King fruit snacks). I put layers on, took layers off, tied and re-tied my shoes. I filled my little key pocket with snacks. I chatted with my fellow runners. I grabbed my gatorade bottle and lined up at the start.

The start line was underneath a row of race t-shirts strung between two trees. The line itself was drawn on the pavement with a rock...remember doing that when you were a kid?
I'm not even sure how we started the actual race...if the director shouted 'Go!' or not...we all just began shuffling forward, out of the parking lot, and into the woods.

The first 1/2 mile was a little rough...we were all packed in, trying to get the pace going, and barely even walking fast. Since there were so many people clustered together, it was impossible to see what obstacles were up ahead. It should have come as no surprise that everyone came to a dead stop whenever there was a patch of mud of a more 'technical' area to get across. (It's a trail race, people. You're going to get dirty. Just run.)

Luckily, by the end of Mile One we were starting to spread out. I heard someone say that the time at the first split was 9:42. Fred, my Nike SDM, doesn't like when I walk so he was a little off compared to the marker, but no big deal. By mile three, Fred said that I was cruising along at 8:36 mpm, enjoying the view of the river.

Then came the hills. And the returning leaders. Since this was an out and back course, I now had to not only worry about my footing, I also had to look out for runners coming towards me. And they were coming FAST.

For four miles, up and down, over logs and streams, and more up and down. There were dried leaves in some places, making it slippery going in any direction. At this point in the race, One of my splits was around 11:15. There were two incredibly steep hills, with a path barely wide enough for one person, which made for some tricky maneuvers when returning runners were heading down (again, FAST). I quickly learned that there was no shame in walking.

The final three miles were back on the flatter terrain. I have to admit that I was feeling pretty beat up and tired. My feet were taking the brunt of the abuse, and I longed for my flip flops. There was some serious whining going on in my head, and I had to dig a little to get to the finish line. My ego didn't like being passed during this last portion of the race, and at least 7 people passed me. It was just a stark reminder that I had gone out too hard and pushed too much on the early hills. Sigh.

But, it was a beautiful trail, on a fabulous day with perfect weather. And I wasn't one of the runners with bloody knees. Nor was I taken out of the woods via ambulance (at least one runner got a ride!). I did slam my shoulder into a tree at one point, but that was the worst of it.
My fellow racers were all very friendly, and asked each other how they were doing, including me. Some of the lead runners called out encouraging things to the rest of us as they passed. People actually stopped at the turnaround to take time to drink a cup of water. And then politely stacked their used cups together. The whole atmosphere was so relaxed, it made road races look like cut-throat competitions in comparison.

I crossed the finish line in about an hour and thirty six minutes, which is better than I expected. Even out on the roads, my best 10-M training run was around 1:27. To get 1:36 on a trail like this one was pretty good by my standards.

Doesn't matter that the first male did it in 57 minutes and the first female was around 1:07 (what the hell?).

Right after I crossed the finish, grabbed my #95 ticket and got my name stuck on the finishers board as the 95th person to finish...I saw Chris Brogan in his Maine sweatshirt (as promised!) standing off to the side.

He's exactly the way I imagined him. Big smile. Easy going, friendly, funny, good-natured guy.
We chatted for about an hour and half, laughing at the over-the-top race director (who was giving out Fluff - as in marshmallow - and whiffle balls as raffle prizes). We talked about trails, races, running, the RBF and other random tidbits here and there. Lots of laughing. A few pictures (eventually I'll post them) and a hearty hug later, we went back to our corners of the world. I'm so grateful that he took time out of his day to come see me at the race.

I could not have planned a better day!

I was working on a big post, all about hyponatremia and hydration...it was very serious and scientific...

Then I checked Bloglines, noticed that one of my favorite blogs had updated, The Longest Mile, and just had to share this link with you...

Some good reasons to run a marathon

Dead on perfect and hilarious. And Number One is easily my favorite reason.

Enjoy!

The upcoming race on Saturday (April 16) will be my first trail race, my first ten-mile race and my first out-of-state race. The only expectations I have are to have fun, get a little muddy and meet some new people. No time-related goals at all. For me, this is a no-pressure race, reminding me that there can be joy in racing and not just numbers and awards.

This is how the race application describes the event:

This is not a regular race! It is a trail race, which means you'll have rocks, roots, and plenty of mud and puddles to deal with. Falling down on your derriere is a distinct possibility. The course will be well marked with survey tape. Markings will be placed the day before the race. There are some steep hills, steep down hills, and a few small stream crossings, but footing is very good for a trail race. Roadsters will enjoy the change and if you're careful, falling down may be avoided. NOT!!!! The course runs parallel to the Merrimack River and is out and back. The trail is well defined and offers some gorgeous views of the river and countryside. You will forget that you are 5 miles from two bustling, historic cities. The main purpose of this race is to provide the opportunity to use this great trail which is so close to most of us, to introduce trail running to the area, and to have fun. So try it out and don't wear a good pair of white socks, they won't be white for long.

I'll be a stone's throw from Annalisa's stomping grounds, but sadly she will be jetting off to Ohio for the weekend. Not sure if anyone else from the RBF will be there...maybe Chris?

I didn't get any running in over the weekend. I won't whine or offer excuses. It's a new week in the log book, ending with a 10 mile trail full of roots, rock, mud, blood and fun.

And a cool t-shirt, of course.

When I was getting ready for my first marathon, it was the thought of all my cyber friends cheering for me that helped pull me through the rough spots - in training as well as during the actual race. I know a few of you have also benefited from the virtual encouragement of the RBF...and here's your chance to Pay It Foward:

I've just learned that my sister Tamieka's friend Erin will be running her first marathon next weekend. Please take a minute to send her some good vibes, good wishes, good luck and maybe even share some wisdom or your favorite marathon tip!

Thanks!

I've learned that one of the side effects from running is selective amnesia.

For example:

I never seem to remember just how many hills are on a particular race course or running route. My running partners often scold me for this.

Immediately upon seeing my time on the overhead clock at the finish line, it will leave my head. I see it. I read it. I forget it. I will be unable to recall my finish time until I see it listed in the official results. Even if threatened with dismemberment, I will not be able to recall what was displayed on the clock.

I have no ability to recall how long I've been a 'runner.' My standard answer is 'About a year or so.' In actuality, I ran for a couple years in college, lost focus and then started back up again in January 2003. Even now that I have calculated it to be two years and fours months, I will still stare blankly at the next person to ask me 'When did you start running?'

Last night, I was reminded that trail running is harder than road running. And there are all sorts of little muscles working hard to stabilize my feet and ankles while trail running.

I was so excited to get out on my favorite trail last night for the first time since November. It was warm and sunny; the smell of moist earth and dried leaves was in the air; and the deafening sound of 'peepers' (frogs) echoed throughout the forest.

It was more difficult than I remembered. Instead of my projected 5-miles, I stopped at 3.61, completely tapped out of energy (and despite the yogurt I ate 15 minutes prior to the run, I still had a sugar dip at 2.44 miles). I realized how crucial training on trails has been to my development as a runner. I promised myself that I would include the trails in my schedule at least twice a week from now on.

Tonight, it's off to the pool for some more flopping around. This weekend will bring a longer run that will be a mix of both trail and road.

That which doesn't kill me will only make me stronger.

Bring it on, I say!

Chances are that I will forget all about this by next week.

I've reached a point in my 'racing career' (and I use that phrase very, very loosely) where I am running races for the second (and third) time. At first, I thought that I would benefit from this development. I would already know how to get to the race location; would have an idea of where to get my bib number; would know where the bathrooms were located; and would know what to expect out on the course.

Knowing the course ahead of time should be helpful, right? Being able to plan for the hills and knowing when the finish line is close should allow a runner to develop a solid game plan. Strategize.

Alas, this does not seem to be the case for me. I was better off when I didn't know a damn thing about what was going on. Nerves drive me. When I am nervous, things get done. When I don't know what to expect, I press on, driven by my anxiety to learn about the unknown.

When I know what to expect, I get lazy.

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself. Maybe I am just frustrated by my second failed attempt at a PR this season. Sure, I can offer excuses and reasoning: I was tired from losing an hour of sleep; my arch-nemesis wasn't there to inspire me; I still beat last year's time by 2:12. But still.

I would be a pinocchio-faced liar if I didn't admit that I was a little disappointed.

Here's the race, in a nutshell:

Sunday morning was cool and cloudy with some pretty strong winds - almost identical to the weather that I encountered at this same race last year.

I took time to warm-up, jogging around for about .75 miles. I remembered to wear my Nike watch (Fred, to some) and had planned to use it to keep track of my splits. I ate my usual pre-race gel, drank water and used the bathroom ten zillion times.

I didn't feel as nervous as usual. I was a little jittery but nothing close to my normal level of anxiety.

We were off at the sound of "Go!' and I tried to start my watch but had managed to screw it up somehow (long, dumb story - user failure). The course was downhill for about the first 1/2 mile and I relaxed while gravity did the work. Pulled up and over the first hill and then watched the 10-Milers break off from the pack for their own race.

The 5K-ers trudged up the second hill alone and the pack really started to thin out. At this point, I was really hoping that someone would be calling out the mile-marker times, but I was out of luck. As it was, I couldn't find any mile markers until I passed by the huge red '2' spray-painted on the road.

I counted five women ahead of me, including one young girl within reach. Right around 2.5 miles, she started to struggle and lose steam. As I passed her, I told her to swing her (motionless) arms and to let gravity help her run down hill. I also told her that she was doing great!

Then came the tough climb to the finish - about a half mile up a long, winding slope. I pushed but didn't feel the fire to finish like usual. And as I came around and saw that the clock said 23:xx, I felt deflated.

Dammit!

Hit the finish in 23:39. I realize that 1) that is still a great time 2) it's better than last weekend's 5K time and 3) I improved upon last year's time for this course.

I did place second in my division, and something nice happened while I was walking away from the 'podium' with my trophy. The overall female winner had already walked out of the room with her ginormous trophy and someone ran after her to give her the first place divisional award. She actually came back into the room and tried to give me her division award. She said to me 'They shouldn't be double dipping. You should have this.' I graciously declined her offer and was so impressed by her good sports-person-ship.

That moment made up for my PR-less race.

Next race is the Merrimack River Trail Race. All new place, new faces, new distance, new terrain. I'll be a nervous wreck and won't care about my finishing time. That should help re-stoke my racing fire!

Long time readers of this blog may recall that I sometimes struggle with 'food issues' while running. Translated, it means that I sometimes get hungry, shaky and a little clammy when I'm out pounding the pavement. During my marathon training last year, it was critical for me to get control of this issue and I was diligent about eating wholesome foods, every few hours.

With some careful calorie monitoring, I was able to avoid having 'sugar crashes' most of the time. I also worked hard to just 'run through' the feeling which, surprisingly, worked better than I expected (like my body just says 'oh well...no food...keep going'). Ninety-five percent of the time, this feeling hits me about 2.5 miles in to the run. And every once in a while I have to stop at 3 miles, too shaky to go on. Even on days when I am certain that I have eaten enough, it still happens. Baffling.

I bring it up because it happened yesterday. At the 2.5 mile mark - almost on the nose. I had to stop and rest, assess my strength and calculate my options. I was able to push through it, but I shoveled food in for the rest of the day. It's as if all the food lessons from marathon training have disappeared from my body.

My first thought is: keep a food diary again; maybe it's all the unnecessary sugar that sneaks in to my diet (i.e. Easter candy from the moms).

Doe this happen to anyone else? Or am I alone in my freakishness?