Boston Marathon 2010

The most famous route in all of runnerdom.

I dragged my feet for so long in posting this that even Spike beat me to posting his race report, and that's saying something, considering in the past we've had good-natured contests to see who is lazier. I think I won this one, my friend.

Boston. Where do I begin? How can I accurately articulate what running this race meant to me? Should I start here:

Just after I ran my qualifying time at the Cleveland Marathon, May 2009

Or should I start here:

August 2006. Before everything.

Four years ago, pushing 225 pounds, the idea that I could change my life for the better was nonexistent. Exercise? What's that? Eating wisely? Ha!

Needless to say, my, how things have changed. From that first 5K I ran after starting to lose weight, where my only goal was to finish without walking, to my first half marathon and onward to my first marathon...what a journey. What a fucking incredible journey, people.

I arrived in Boston on the Friday before the race. I visited the expo, collected my race packet, spent WAY too much money, ate WAY too many free samples of anything that was offered, and then hit up a local watering hole with my awesome hostess for the weekend. Saturday brought entertainment in the form of the Boston Hash House Harriers, who put on a stupendous hash through the streets of Boston.

It was about 40 degrees and spitting rain but I was very happy amongst my tribe.

Sunday I met up with some other run-blogger folks at a brunch gathering organized by the Redhead. I also saw Spike and we exchanged valuable prerace strategy in the form of giant tater tots stuffed with cheese. Carb loading, right?

With Spike and the Redhead at brunch. YOU GUYS ROCK!

I chilled out for the rest of Sunday, had a big pasta dinner with some other runners from Michigan, and hit the sack around 10:00 Sunday night. My bag was packed, I was ready.

What a girl wants, what a girl needs...to run a marathon.

Race morning was cool and sunny, unlike the previous three. I took the T into the city, met up with the other Michigan folks, and rode the special Michigan runners' charter bus to Hopkinton. After hanging around the bus and the athletes' village for a while, it was time to go. I strapped on my various accessories, dropped off my bag, and headed to the start. I found my corral and wriggled into the crowd. I took a moment to relax and ready myself for the task at hand. I was about to run the BOSTON MARATHON!

Right before the start.

Without much fanfare, we were off. I had decided long ago that I was not going for any particular time on this day. It was my very first Boston, and I just wanted to enjoy every moment. Consequently, I held my pace to a leisurely 9:00-plus per mile. I listened to the abundant people cheering, waved to various folks, high-fived little kids. Around mile 2 my fellow runner Erika, one of my Thursday night running group, came up behind me. I was very glad to see her and we ran together for the next 14 miles.

On the road in the early part of the race.

Midrace action!

I was moving along comfortably, soaking up the experience. When I got to the famous "Tunnel of Noise" at Wellesley College, Erika and I sped up considerably, buoyed by the cheering. I looked at Garmy after we ran through the screams and I said, "We gotta slow down, we're running like 8:30 pace!"

Even though I'm a Smithie, I have to give these women some props.

Just after Wellesley was the halfway point, which I reached in 2:00:42, right on pace for a 4:00 marathon. Around mile 16 I said to Erika, "I have to stop and use the bathroom, go ahead and don't wait for me. Good luck!" It was a miracle I had made it that far without having to use a port-a-potty. Usually the beast rears its head long before that. After exiting the bathroom, I settled in to run the rest of the race alone. I clearly remember passing mile 17 and thinking, "Nine more miles...shit." I knew where I was heading: that lonely territory of the mind where every marathon runner goes eventually. The late miles of a marathon are an out of body experience. We grit our teeth and concentrate on forward motion, pushing through the pain. I was closing in on that place. I made it through the series of hills culminating with Heartbreak at mile 21. At mile 22 I thought wearily, "Only four more to go."

On the course

And the pavement slid past under my feet, and lo I was very tired and did want to stop more than anything, but come ON, this was the BOSTON MARATHON, and I was in it. And I made the turn onto Boylston St and the final 0.3 miles stretched out in front of me. The screaming coming from the assembled crowds reached new heights and I pushed my glasses onto my forehead because I wanted to see everything as clearly as possible, only I found myself running with eyes half closed and a stupid grin on my face as a tsunami of emotion crashed over me. I was alternately laughing with joy and crying in disbelief as I ran toward the finish.

How can I look so happy at the end of a marathon? Because it's Boston.

I am so close to being done.

As soon as I finished, I knew I had to come back. There's no question. I can't let this be my only Boston.

About a minute after I finished. I was still riding an incredible emotional high.

I finished the Boston Marathon!!

Of course, no marathon report of mine would be complete without a picture of me savoring my first post-race beer:

Victory never tasted so hoppy.

So now what? I'm looking ahead to October and the Grand Rapids Marathon. I will try for another BQ at that race. In the shorter term, I've already run three races (two 5Ks and a 10K) since Boston. Next Sunday I will be running the Cleveland Half Marathon with my dad. I ran 10 miles this morning which was my longest run since the marathon. I'm enjoying running a lot at the moment. The weather is ideal and I am shedding some pounds and moving faster, which make me happy.

What a journey, folks. What an amazing journey. Most of the time I still have trouble believing that I actually did it.

Race stats:
Official finish time: 4:11:57
Age group: 3757 out of 4984
Overall: 17420 out of 22645

Feline Filler

No Boston race report yet (still waiting on World's Most Overpriced Photos).

In lieu of such, I am posting a picture of Little Boo digging his claws into my shoulder (because cats are always cute).

Who's the silly cat!

Tease

Because I just know you're all waiting for something relating to the Boston Marathon (race report forthcoming; I just ordered an incredibly expensive CD of all my Official Race Photos and I'd like to use some of them in my post, so I'm going to wait until that arrives; for $100 it should be here TODAY and hand-delivered by Ryan Hall and Brian Sell¹), I'm going to throw y'all a wee bone. And because this is me we're talking about here, it should come as NO surprise this is the picture I have chosen to represent my day:

Victory tastes like a Harpoon IPA served cold in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

1: The fact that I just name-dropped two runners as my Dream Postpeople has just qualified me as World's Biggest Running Nerd.

26.2 Miles is Wicked Fah

2010 Boston Marathon finishing time: 4:11:57.

I did it, by golly. No one can ever take this away from me.

Mobile Blogging from here.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Overcome

I made it to Boston.

Picking up my packet today, I was overwhelmed with emotion. When I held that number in my hands, I choked up.

After spending an obscene amount of money at the race expo, I am now waiting for my hostess for the weekend to arrive at the restaurant for dinner. in the meantime I am enjoying a hand pulled Allagash Black. Ahhhh.

Three more days!

Mobile Blogging from here.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Well? How did I get here?

And by "here," I mean four days away from running the Boston Marathon.

• August 2006: Joined Weight Watchers
• October 2006: Ran a half mile on the treadmill at the gym, called it quits in exhaustion
• November 12, 2006: Ran my first 5K in over six years and finished in 32:58
• June 2007: Registered for the Detroit Half Marathon in a moment of wild speculation
• October 21, 2007: Ran the Detroit half in 2:07:40, the farthest I'd ever run in my life, and said afterward there was "no way" I was ever going to run a full marathon
• April 2008: Registered for the Detroit Marathon (so much for never running a marathon)
• Sometime in the summer of 2008: Learned that one had to qualify for the Boston Marathon
• September 27, 2008: Ran my final 20-mile training run for Detroit at a pace of 8:38/mile, which made me start thinking "What if..."
• October 19, 2008: Ran the Detroit Marathon in 3:52:01, missing my Boston time by 6:02
• About a minute after finishing Detroit: Decided I was going to BQ in Cleveland in May 2009, by god
• January 2009: Started training for the Cleveland Marathon
• February 2009: Briefly reached a total weight loss amount of 70 lbs (too bad I didn't stay there)
  
• May 17, 2009: Ran a 3:45:14 at Cleveland, thereby qualifying for Boston
• November 1, 2009: Ran the NYC Marathon and had the most fun I've ever had in a race, proving that running 26.2 miles at once can actually be enjoyable
  
• January 2010: Started training for Boston
• April 16, 2010: Depart for Boston
• April 19, 2010: I will find myself in Hopkinton with 25,000 other runners

It has been an amazing journey, one I never thought I would undertake. I have gone from being a 220-plus pound couch potato¹ to someone who is going to run the BOSTON MARATHON.

Never underestimate what you can accomplish if you set your mind and body to it.

1: I'm still a couch potato, but now I exercise a lot to offset my natural inclination toward laziness.

No. Just....No.

Wearing full makeup while working out: Awesome!

Wearing a lacy tube top to keep your enormous fake boobs in place while running (barely): Even better!

Smoking a cigarette after working out: OMG just stop now.

Looking like a total asshat: Priceless.







Who is this bimbo, you may ask? She's some chick from that awful MTV reality show "Jersey Shore." The only exposure I have to "Jersey Shore" is the 30 or so seconds devoted to it on The Soup on occasion. Any more than that any my brain starts to hurt. The stupid, it burns.

When celebrities "run," the results are often...interesting.

Via The Superficial.

In other boob news: Amy Winehouse!

B-Minus 10 Days

In one week I will be on my way to Boston.

Am I ready for this race? I suppose. I will be able to run the distance, but I suspect this one is going to hurt more than the previous ones. I did two 20-mile runs, but the last one was almost 3 weeks ago. My experiment with self-guided training was largely a failure. I now know without a doubt I need the structure of a regimented training program. For my next marathon I am going back to my trusted friend Hal Higdon, whose Intermediate II program was the one I used for the Cleveland Marathon last year (the race at which I qualified for Boston). It worked.

I am well aware I am not in the same physical condition I was a year ago pre-Cleveland (amazing) or even six months ago pre-New York (still pretty good). I have felt sluggish for quite some time and I'm in a running mojo-less funk, which is not a great place to be when one is about to run the Boston Marathon. I know this race is going to be a slow one, possibly even slower than NYC (4:16). Having come to terms with this, I am going to bring my camera and my love of running to the starting line and just go out there and have fun. This is Boston, for crying out loud. BOSTON! I'm going to soak up every sound and sight available, and I can't do that if I'm obsessing about my pace and time like I was in Cleveland.

In other news:

Did anyone else see this story? OUCH!

The World's Most Annoying Dog problem I ranted about has abated this week because the weather took a sudden detour back into Winter. After Monday and Tuesday pushed into the high 70s, Wednesday kicked off a downward spiral which included the appearance of snow flurries this morning. Yes, that's right, SNOW FLURRIES. Welcome to Michigan!

A couple of days ago I got together with Spike for a pre-Boston strategy session, which consisted of eating candy while wearing our Boston Marathon jackets. We both ordered an obscene amount of official race gear (OK, mine was only mildly offensive, but his was truly obscene) and even though it's a huge Race Faux Pas to wear the gear before the race, I insisted we get a tiny bit of our dork on and wear the jackets inside, away from accusing eyes. After all, we both worked our butts off last year to BQ, so I felt we had earned it. Then, what did I do but WEAR THE JACKET OUT TO DINNER. (It was cold and rainy!)

OMG.

Running gods, strike me down now¹.

Proof of massive breach of race etiquette.

Last weekend the hashers invaded the Waterloo Rec Area for some trail running and cheap beer-drinking. This edition of hashing was co-hared by myself and two other brave souls. Afterward everyone came to my house for a homemade feast I spent several days preparing: two kinds of chili (black bean and and beef), an 8-lb baked ham (from my half hog), eggplant hummus, and two pounds of bacon. There was nothing left but a few scraps of ham after everyone left.

In my house it is a well-known rule that any open container will spontaneously generate a cat. Here Darwin has teleported into one of the coolers we used for the beer checks at the hash last weekend.

Earlier this week I attended an extremely good concert by a band I first discovered last summer, the xx. This show capped a period of concert-going which spanned almost a month and included some great (and, unfortunately, not-so-great) music. I have a break of a few weeks before the next wave of shows begins on May 10 with Local Natives in Ann Arbor.

The xx live: restrained majesty.

During the mini-trip I took for the xx concert, I went to a bar which had Founders' Kentucky Breakfast Stout ON TAP. This is one of the best beers in the world according to Beer Advocate. I had it for the first time only a couple of weeks ago, and because it is highly seasonal and enjoys limited release I wondered if I would be lucky enough to taste it again this year. I was.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

The xx: "Islands"; "Basic Space"

1: Not only did I wear the jacket out to dinner on Wednesday, three weeks ago I wore it ON A RUN while I was visiting my parents. Clearly, I'm just thumbing my nose at the Running Gods.

It's...

TAPER TIME!

Two weeks to Boston!

Shut the F@%k Up!

Wherein I Reveal That I Am Actually An Extremely Angry Person (Surprise!)

Southeast Michigan has recently been blessed with a burst of uncharacteristically pleasant weather. Each day this week has been a joyful combination of sun and warm temperatures. Spring breezes carry the scent of burgeoning life as plants and soil awaken from their winter slumber. My early morning runs no longer take place in the cold, still darkness; a riotous chorus of robins and other early-rising birds accompanies me. I have thrown open my house's windows to let the fresh air circulate (which also blows all the cat fur tumbleweeds down the hall and reminds me that I need to vacuum).

Opening my winter-stale house to the warm spring air has, however, reintroduced to my life the only thing I don't like about living in my otherwise peaceful neighborhood:

The World's Most Annoying Dog (also known as: That Shitty Little Fucking Yappy Piece of Shit Motherfucking Rat Dog).

I'm not a huge fan of dogs in general. I have a low opinion of poorly-behaved asshole dogs who act like their often similarly poorly-behaved asshole owners (imagine that), like the asshole dog that bit me on my arm last year (those teeth left marks which are still visible). I like dogs the same way I like very small children: fun to play with for a while, but I'm glad I can give them back to their handlers when it's time to go home (especially if they start to act up and/or need a diaper changed, a scenario which may apply both to humans and canines). The only exceptions are my brother and sister-in-law's dog Maya (whom I refer to as "the best dog ever," because she totally is) and my little nephew (who was joined this week by his new baby brother, making me an aunt two times over!). I can cuddle with Maya for hours and when Little Nephew refers to me as "Ra-ra" I turn into a puddle.

Anyway, despite my committed lifelong cat person-ness (save the "crazy cat lady jokes," I only have two cats, not two dozen) I can tolerate and enjoy most dogs. (I just don't want to live with one.)

Not this one.

I hate this dog, The World's Most Annoying Dog (WMAD), with the fire of a thousand suns. I daydream about ways in which this dog could be wiped off the face of the earth. A stray piece of airplane debris, perhaps? My town is in the approach path (albeit 40 miles out) for Detroit Metro Airport, so it's not completely outside the realm of possibility. How about a meteorite? It could totally happen! Lightning strike! Sinkhole! Dognappers! Falling tree branch! Red-tailed hawk! Anything!

Those of you who know me as a soft-hearted animal lover who cries at ads for the Humane Society or ASPCA (damn Sarah McLachlan!) and who has approximately 800 pictures of her cats on her iPhone are probably mystified and a little disturbed. Maybe you're mystified in general because I rarely rant about anything not running-related. Maybe you're just disturbed, in which case, seek professional help.

Let's just say I hide it well, unless you happen to be a helpless passenger in my car while I'm driving. Then you will be hit full-force with the extent of my commentary on all the FUCKING IDIOTS who share the road with me. Blunt-force road rage!

Not today. Not this time. I need to vent, and vent BIG. Like, catastrophic Mt. St. Helens explosive volcanism with bonus pyroclastic flow (now with extra chunky flaming boulders!) kind of big.

Back to the WMAD. First of all, this...thing...can barely be called a dog. My cats are bigger than it. Darwin could kick its ass just by lying on top of it in a nonviolent feline coup. I think it's a miniature or toy something-or-another, maybe a Doberman pinscher. Suffice to say it's the size of a loaf of bread or my Barbie horse from when I was little. Thus, it obeys one of the cardinal rules of caninedom: The smaller the dog, the yappier and more high-pitched its voice. This is the smallest dog I've ever seen; therefore, it is the yappiest dog I've ever come across.

Let's sum up so far: warm weather, open windows, yappy dog three doors down...do you see where this is going?

This is what I heard for a large chunk of Wednesday afternoon and evening as I was TRYING to enjoy hanging out in my house with the windows open for the first time since early November (yes, the windows were closed for five months. Welcome to Michigan!):

YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP

This is what I heard Thursday at 5:45 am after I slept with my windows open:

YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP

I think you get the idea.

Imagine that sound drilling into your brain for HOURS upon HOURS. Imagine hearing that shrill ceaseless shrieking as you lie exhausted on your bed after an 18- or 20-mile training run, desperate for a nap, but unable to fine a shred of peace because that FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT DOG WILL. NOT. SHUT. UP. And for those of you wondering why I didn't close the windows: even with them closed, I can still hear it. Additionally, it's my house and if the weather's nice and I want to have the windows open, then I'm going to have my damn windows open. And there's no fucking way I'm wearing earplugs to sit on my couch and read a book. That's just stupid.

I must justifiably direct a large part of my ire at the "owners," who stick the poor dog in their backyard, attached to an overhead wire, and leave it there alone for hours. No dog deserves that. It's clearly bored or anxious and wants to be with its people, and voices its displeasure by standing by their back door barking (I can see into their yard from certain of my second-floor windows). If you're going to have a dog and ignore it all day, then why even have a dog, you morons? Get a cat; they can deal with being left alone and often want to be left alone. Cats don't freak out if you leave the room. You might leave, come back five hours later, and they haven't even moved. Darwin and Boo might take a moment to look at me as if to say, "Oh, you were gone? I didn't even notice." Plus cats are way quieter.

Additionally, HOW in the WORLD do they not know how disruptive, rude, and insensitive it is to their neighbors to leave their dog outside to yap endlessly? Are these people fucking clueless braindead IDIOTS? I THINK SO. There's no other explanation. Any respectable dog owners with half an ounce of common sense know not to allow their dog to bark nonstop. My next-door neighbors have an Old English sheepdog. It's a big dog with a big bark. It likes to bark at things. They, however, quickly shut it down with a firm "No!" or let it back inside after it's woofed at a few squirrels, falling leaves, me getting into my car, the air passing by...Suffice to say, even though it's exasperating when that dog barks at me when I'm going up the stairs in my house, they have their shit together when it comes to responsible dog ownership.

I dread what's coming this summer. Every weekend the WMAD will be in its yard yapping. It happened last year and I thought I was going to lose my mind. We had such a mild summer that I only ran my air conditioner a handful of times; the rest of the time I kept my windows open. Each Saturday and Sunday I would hope for just one day where I didn't have to listen to that yappy fucker spreading its aural poison around the neighborhood. Occasionally the stars would align and the gods smiled down and the WMAD was nowhere to be heard. Ah, blissful silence! I could hear the breeze rustling the trees, hear the birds chirping, hear my own thoughts.

The other 5 bajillion days I spent muttering "Shut up shut up shut up shut up for the love of fucking god, PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP YAP

I've composed anonymous letters in my head countless times. They always begin: "Dear Dumbasses..." (or "Dear So-Called Owners of the World's Most Annoying Dog...") I've thought about how I could cover my tracks in sending this letter. (I'm not telling.) I've envisioned front-porch confrontations. (No one dies; I'm not that violent.) I've indulged in fantasizing about much more nefarious and unsavory and un-Sarah McLachlanesque ways of dealing with the problem (think flamethrowers). The problem with that is when I have reduced the WMAD to a smoldering pile, letting silence reign over the neighborhood, my heart is pounding and I feel lightheaded from adrenaline. (Power daydreams: try them!)

They've created a monster with their stupidity and the entire neighborhood has to pay the price. I can't possibly be the only one who is harboring a deep and secret hatred.

I just don't know what to do. The prospect of another summer marred by brain-melting hair-pulling rage-inducing barking has filled me with dread. It's started already and it's only April. I might get a reprieve when the weather takes an inevitable brief turn for the worse (I fully expect a surprise snowstorm or a string of 45-degree, rainy days), but eventually it will be all warm, all the time, and all hope for salvation and a peaceful summer will be lost.

So. Anyone know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy...?

Seconds From Disaster

Behold, the incident to which I referred in my last post.

Here he comes! About one second after this picture was taken, the crash landing occurred. I looked for a picture of the guy sprawled on the pavement, but alas, there were none.

A normal picture, no sprinting goobers in sight, even though I have my "serious race face" on.

In other news, recent weather forecasts have the daytime temperatures zooming past 70 degrees over the next few days, with a high of 79 projected for Friday. All I have to say about that is: WHAT THE HELL. I'm NOT ready for that yet. I'm going to break a sweat just walking to my car at the end of the workday.

On the other hand: SKIRTS TIME!

Additionally, tonight I am going to hear two good bands in concert: Spoon and Deerhunter. I have been waiting for this for months!

Spoon - "I Turn My Camera On"

Deerhunter - "Neither of Us, Uncertainly"

OUCH!

From FAIL Blog

Come to think of it, this is exactly what happened to the guy who SPRINTED past me in the closing meters of the Shamrocks & Shenanigans 5K in Ann Arbor on March 14. He blasted past me on the left with about 10 meters to go and when he was only a few feet in front of me he completely lost his footing on the damp pavement (it had been raining that morning) and crashed to the ground so hard he actually skidded for a few feet. The sound of his bare skin scraping across the asphalt was rather...gruesome. I was hoofing it to the finish and when that guy went down in front of me I had to do a little zig-zag and hop to avoid stomping on his outstretched flailing arm. The assembled crowd emitted a collective gasp. I crossed the finish line and looked back to see him hobbling to the end.

On one hand, man, that must have hurt, and sucks to be him. On the other hand, really, dude, did you have to channel Usian Bolt in the final moments of the race? What was that all about anyway? There's finishing strong, and then there's doing so little for the entire race you have enough energy to sprint like a madman. You looked like a GOOBER.

In other news, tonight I am going to a live show featuring this fine band. I am quite excited.

Cave Singers -- "Seeds of Night"

Thursday Thought

That's right, I only have one thought:

The weather for the past two weeks has been absolutely PERFECT for running outdoors. Each time I step outside, no matter what time of day it may be, I sigh with pleasure.

I had to put that out there before we get hit with the dreaded "wintry mix" this coming weekend.

What March in Michigan giveth (64 and sunny), March in Michigan taketh away (34 and snow).

32 days to Boston!

Thursday Thoughts: Some Pictures are Worth a Few Words

Saturday, February 20, I headed for Jackson to do my first 20-miler on the Falling Waters Trail. This was the same trail on which I ran my stellar half marathon PR (1:43:01) last October. The day was cold (19 degrees) and brilliantly sunny and I was in good spirits. I ran the entire length of the trail from Jackson to Concord and back. How convenient that it's 10.2 miles one way! I even negative-split the second half, pulling out 8 sub-9:00 miles in a row to finish in 2:58 for an 8:55/mile average. I was pleased.

Mile 15 of 20 on the Falling Waters Trail in Jackson.

A week and several snowstorms later, I peeked out my window Saturday morning with the futile hope that the 13 inches of snow on the ground might have magically vanished overnight, leaving me bare, dry sidewalks and streets on which to run my 16 miles. Sadly, this was not to be. I conceded defeat at the hands of the elements and knew my only course of action was to run the miles on a treadmill. I ran the mile to my gym, ran 14 miles on the treadmill, and ran the mile home. It was dreadful. There are no words to describe how awful running 14 miles on a treadmill are. By mile 3 I was ready to quit. The thought of 11 more miles made me want to cry. I devised a plan to ease the pain: break the distance into four 3.5-mile segments and take some kind of break after each segment. That helped a lot. I went to the bathroom, walked and ate Gu, drank some water. Nevertheless, the final 2.5 miles felt like a death march. I was just so done with it I sped up the treadmill until I was running a sub-9:00 pace just so I could GET IT OVER WITH FASTER. Finally, FINALLY, I was done. But wait, there's more! I had only run 15 miles. I STILL HAD TO RUN ONE MILE HOME. And you know what, folks? That one mile outdoors was easier than the 14 which preceded it.

Thirteen inches of snow on Friday means I'm not doing my long run outside on Saturday.

The very next morning I was inside the Renaissance Center in downtown Detroit, staring up through the glass ceiling of the atrium at this:

70 flights, 1,050 steps.

Yes, it was Climb Detroit time again! I participated in this event last year and had so much fun I came back for more. I want to thank especially my run-blogger friends who donated to my stairclimb fund: Redhead, Mike Fox, Zoomylicious, Mr. Loser, girlrunningaround, and JoyRuN. Thanks to you I totally crushed my goal AND helped my workplace team be the number one fundraising team this year! We raised over $8,000 for the American Lung Association.

I surprised myself by turning in a time of 11:02, which was only 9 seconds slower than my time from last year. Despite my nearly identical time, competition was much stiffer, and I finished 12/65 in my age group and 27/212 for women.

I prepare by scratching my arm.

Today for lunch I met one of my favorite run-bloggers and all-around awesome dude and great friend Spike. Not only that, I finally got to meet the one and only Redhead who is braving the tail end of this Michigan winter to hang with Spike for a few days. I am happy to report that 1. Redhead is indeed as funny and effervescent as she is on her blog and 2. They really are the cutest couple ever. I was very sad when I had to go back to work.

An epic run-blogger meetup!

Finally, when I stopped at the New Chelsea Market after my group run tonight, I saw this bottle of Malbec and knew I had to get it for the sole purpose of taking a picture and posting it here:

Sure to make Nitmos and Spike squeal in terror. Clearly, llamas are taking over the world.

SIX WEEKS to Boston!

Words To Live By

Take heed, young grasshoppers:

Shit washes off.

How do I know this?

First things first: we're all runners here. We have no or very little shame. We discuss odd and embarrassing things about our bodies all the time. Now, on with it.

Shit happens, as they say. Shit happened to me for only the second time this morning. Yes, I have GI issues almost every time I run, but 99% of the time I'm able to control the beast and avoid a mishap. Not so today. I was cruising through mile 4 of my 5-mile run when I felt the dreaded rumble in my guts. I had cleared the pipes before I left as I always do (this is even more important than my shoes, Garmin, or sports bra) and there had been no grumbling from down below so I thought I was golden for the duration of the run.

Well. My body had other plans. I found myself sprinting for home, not an easy feat on sidewalks which were accumulating a slick coating of fresh snow. I almost took a spill right at the foot of my driveway. Despite my best efforts, I was too late. Yes, folks, I crapped my pants. There was nothing I could do to avoid it. Like I said earlier, shit happens. I find it almost miraculous that this has only happened to me twice given my constant battle with my GI tract.

Shit also washes off. It disappears quite nicely when a hot shower and lots of Dial soap is applied. I emerged squeaky clean, spicy fresh, and ready to face the day.

Up until this mishap, my run had been very enjoyable. When I first set out just after 6:00 AM, the first fat, lazy flakes of the morning's snowstorm were just beginning to float downward. The air was so still, they filled the air in a thick cloud which gently buffeted my face. It was like running inside a snow globe. Snowflakes accumulated on my eyebrows and eyelashes until I had to swipe them away. I ran in the street, my footfalls muffled by the soft layer of snow.

I am torn between loathing the cold and unpleasantness of winter training versus its quiet beauty. Luckily I have about 7 more weeks of this to figure it out.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Morning

Saturday I headed out for my longest run since the NYC Marathon last November: a cold and snowy 18-miler on my favorite, albeit challenging, long run route through the Waterloo Rec Area west of town. Last October I did my 20-miler on the same road, and this was the scene at the time:

October 17, 2009

Saturday, this was the view from approximately the same place (notice the one tree on the left is the same):

February 13, 2010

Clearly, it's not fall anymore. It was about 16 degrees when I left my house. I was wearing my thickest tights, a warm base layer, YakTrax, and the Jacket of Wonder. It was snowing lightly for the first few miles, but that tapered off and stopped by the time I got into the woods along Bush Rd. The footing was decent, aided by the 'Trax. I had the iPod rocking and I was feeling good. My knee/IT band wasn't bothering me at all. I was just out for a long, slow cruise in the country. When I reached the 9-mile mark on Loveland Rd. I paused for a picture:

Halfway there. I am amused by the corona of exhaled vapor clinging to my headband.

I finished the run in just over 2 hours and 47 minutes for a 9:18 pace. It was slow going, considering the surface conditions, but once I reached dry pavement again with 2 miles to go I took off the 'Trax and squeezed out a couple of sub-9:00 miles. I was pretty well aching all over by that point so I consider that an accomplishment. Once home, I showered and collapsed for a nap, complete with cat:

I think he's happy, don't you?

NINE WEEKS TO BOSTON.

Preparedness or Madness?

You know it's going to be a long, cold run when you use hot water to mix the Gatorade you're taking with you.

It's 16 degrees, snowing lightly, and I have 18 miles in my immediate future.

I must be crazy.

Mobile Blogging from here.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Shameless Begging

Last year I participated in the American Lung Association's Fight for Air stairclimb at the Renaissance Center in downtown Detroit. I contributed over $400 to the ALA's efforts to fight lung disease. I'm back for more as a member of my workplace team. The stairclimb is February 28 this year and I am hoping to raise at least $300 by then. I hate asking people for money especially given the current economic climate, but even $5 would help me in getting to my goal.

Just so y'all know, last year I kicked butt and finished 14th out of all the women who participated. I don't do this just to raise money for the ALA, I do it to KICK SOME SERIOUS ASS at the same time, because I'm super competitive like that. Even though it's not TECHNICALLY a race...I act like it is.

In the process of kicking butt at the 2009 stairclimb.

Last year because I met my fundraising goal I got a sweet little duffel bag as my incentive reward. I use that thing all the time. Many of you contributed last year and thus are partially responsible for the sweet little duffel bag, and for that I thank you.

My personal fundraising page.

Help me out here people...even $5 would be awesome.

In The Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.

That's how I felt when I went running this afternoon. It was about 15 degrees and there was an evil wind coming from the west which sliced through my thermal pants like a hot knife through warm butter. My chin turned into a chunk of rubber and drippy snot froze in my nose. Nonetheless, I chugged my way (into the wind) through six repeats of the hill near my office. When I run these hill repeats, I cannot help but wonder what people who drive by me are thinking, especially the ones who see me turn around and head back the way I came at the top or bottom of the hill. What on earth would drive a person to push her body up and down the same quarter-mile stretch of pavement over and over? Especially when it's so bitterly cold?

The Boston Marathon, people. Boston is looming in less than 12 weeks. It's late January and mid-April is only 11 weeks away. In 11 weeks I will actually be in Massachusetts, visiting my alma mater on a personal Nostalgia Tour before getting down to business. The business of running one of the world's premier marathons. Me, the fat chick who still weighed almost 200 pounds three years ago and could barely run 3 miles at once.

I've come a long way, baby.

Decagon of Happiness

The Redhead tagged me in the "10 Things that Make Me Happy" meme that's been going around lately, and since it's been a while since I followed the crowd, I thought I would give this one a chance. Here, then, in no particular order, are ten things which give me warm fuzzies.

• My cats. My faithful feline companions, Darwin and Bouhaki. They give me unconditional love no matter what. If it wasn't for them I would be very lonely.
  

• Girl Scout Cookies. It's that time of year again, when I can indulge my annual craving for Tagalongs (Peanut Butter Patties) and Samoas (Caramel DeLites). It should shock no one that I can eat an entire box of Tagalongs at once if I feel like it.
  

• The owner of this foot.

• Running. I am more enthralled with running that I ever have been, and good thing, too, because I will be running the Boston Marathon in 12 weeks. After a 15-year hiatus I began running again in 2006 and never looked back. I have now run 3 marathons and hope to run many more. I finally think of myself as "a runner" more than anything else. If someone asks me what I do, I say, "I run."
  

• Beer. Sometimes I can't believe I only drank beer a handful of times in college. My, how things have changed! I feel so fortunate to live in a state which has a vibrant craft brewing industry. Within 90 minutes of my house I can visit Michigan Brewing, Original Gravity, Dark Horse, Bell's, Arcadia, Jolly Pumpkin, Copper Canyon, Atwater Block, Motor City, Kuhnhenn, Bastone, Rochester Mills, Arbor Brewing, Grizzly Peak, Dragonmead, CJ's, Fort Street, Royal Oak, Woodward Avenue, and Sherwood.
  

• My family.

• My farm share. I joined my CSA farm in 2008 and quickly drowned in a sea of vegatables. I learned how delicious braised collard greens are, what kohlrabi is, how to roast Brussels sprouts, and that beets make an amazing addition to chocolate cake. I love my farm share!

• Singing. I love to sing. If I could be or do anything, I would be a professional singer. Taking voice lessons and learning how to sing classical repertoire has been one of the great achievements of my adult life. When I began taking lessons in 2003 I had no idea what was going to happen. I just knew that if I never took lessons, I would never know if I had a voice buried somewhere inside me. To my surprise and great pleasure, I discovered I did have a voice.

• Rocks. My educational background is in geology and I still get excited about a really good outcrop. Michigan has a dearth of outcrops, so I take what I can get. Those who know me well know how I get when I see a really good boulder. (Picture taken at Guadelupe National Park, Texas.)

• Live music. I am obsessed with music, and I go to concerts whenever possible. Last year I saw Andrew Bird (twice), Neko Case (twice), Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear, Sufjan Stevens, Great Lake Swimmers, Over the Rhine, Blind Pilot, and Fleet Foxes. In the next couple of months I will be going to two live opera performances, Kings of Convenience, Horse Feathers, Spoon, Deerhunter, Bear in Heaven, and the XX. That takes me up to early April. Who knows what the rest of 2010 will bring? Of course, no mention of live music in 2009 can omit "The One That Got Away," the Depeche Mode concert I was supposed to attend during my vacation in August. That was the concert which got canceled the night before the performance, the concert I bought my ticket for in March, the concert I went all the way to California to see. I consoled myself by roasting in the sun and drinking beer.
  

Thursday Thoughts: Running at Work

Two weeks ago I packed my duffel bag full of running clothes and brought it to work with me. It took me 3 years but I finally went for my first run at work. It has quickly become my new favorite thing to do. I ran 3 days the first week, 3 days last week, and 4 this week. I do tempo runs, hill work, and recovery runs. I run alone or with co-workers. The sun is up. It's not dark. It's not quite as cold. It's perfect. I have a locker room to change in and showers I may use if I feel especially gross. (Confession: I just put my work clothes back on and return to my cubicle. It's winter, I'm not that sweaty, so what. I may reassess come summer.)

Now all I can think is WHY THE HELL DID IT TAKE ME THIS LONG TO FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT?

Ugh.

Kind of like WHY THE HELL DID I START TAKING VOICE LESSONS WHEN I WAS ALMOST 30 AND NOT 10 YEARS EARLIER?! I could have been a professional singer...*sob*

Enough. Do not dwell on the past. I can't go back, I can only go forward. Boston is looming, and I am finally enjoying my training. I ran twice today, once at work and then in the evening with my Running Fit Thursday peeps. The final mile or so of tonight's run I was cranking on a 7:35/mile pace. It felt so good.

My running mojo, it is BACK!

2009: The Year in Pictures

Laid low with the flu on the last weekend of January, thereby blowing my chances at one race a month in 2009. At least I had kitty love. (January)

Winter training: so beautiful, yet so cruel. (February)

Training in the spring can be hazardous to one's new shoes. (March)

On my way to a then-PR of 1:47:02 at the Martian Half Marathon in Dearborn. (April)

During the Cleveland Marathon, the race at which I qualified for Boston. (May)

With my relay teammates at the finish of the Green Mountain Relay in Vermont. It was my first relay, and I had such a great time I am returning for another year. (June)Before the start of the Lyn Yarows Memorial 5K, my first cross-country race since my senior season in high school in 1991. (July)

At the 2800-foot summit of Black Mountain in Los Altos Hills, California, during my awesome vacation. It was the 16-mile trail run of torture, but every moment before, during and after was worth it. (August)

During the Labor Day Mackinac Bridge Run. This was the event for which I was selected to be a Fitness Ambassador. (September)

Co-haring my first hash. Covered in flour and mud and totally happy. Hashing changed everything for me. (October)

The New York City Marathon. Enough said. (November)

At the start of the Run Like the Dickens 5K in 15-degree weather. (December)

A Route for All Seasons

This post has been a year in the making. Almost one year ago I started taking pictures of the cemetery in each season. As longtime readers may know, the cemetery in my town is my favorite place to run. I love its quiet length whatever the season. These pictures are of the long tree-lined drive leading into the cemetery.

Winter

Spring

Summer

Fall

Then there's one of my favorite running pictures ever, the one of me in the cemetery which accompanied the article in the Ann Arbor News two years ago:


I love the cemetery.

Obligatory End Of Decade Post (One Week Late)

This is how I started the decade:

March 2000, on vacation in California, with my uncle's late beloved cat A.C. I was in my final semester of graduate school and I was 26 years old.

This is how I ended it:

At the Eve on the Ave 5K in Jackson, Michigan, December 31, 2009.

The "aughts" were the years I finally left the safe, nurturing, insular world of academia and entered the cold, cruel world of Real Life. The decade in a nutshell:

• 2000: got my master's degree in geology from the University of Michigan; took my last cross-country drive from Michigan to California
• 2001: started my first post-higher education job; met and moved in with my eventual husband
• 2002: went to Ireland for a week; bought my house; quit my job
• 2003: found my current job; started taking voice lessons
• 2004: got married in Hawaii
• 2005: performed with Michigan Opera Theater in Puccini's La Boheme
• 2006: went to Hawaii again; joined Weight Watchers
• 2007: had the surgery which changed my life for the better; started running in earnest; ran my first half marathon
• 2008: performed with Arbor Opera Theater in Mozart's Don Giovanni; ran my first marathon
• 2009: major domestic reorganization (aka divorce); qualified for Boston Marathon

A year ago I laid out my goals for 2009:

• Qualify for the 2010 Boston Marathon at the Cleveland Marathon in May (success!)
  
• Run a sub-1:50 half marathon (success! not once but twice!)
  
• Run a sub-50:00 10K (success! again, not once but twice!)
  
• Set another new 5K PR (success!)
  
• OR break 22:00 in a 5K (fail!)
  
• Run 1500 miles for the year (fail!)
  
• Run at least one race each month (fail!)

I posted a 4/7 success rate (57.1%) which is worse than 2008's goal success rate (87.5%) but I achieved my biggest goal of the year, which was to BQ in Cleveland. I ran 1237 miles, which is 93 miles less than I ran in 2008. However, I decreased my average pace by 13 seconds to 8:58/mile. I also spent 183 hours and 9 minutes on the road and burned 136,864 calories.

My "one race a month" goal was toast in January when I came down with the flu the final weekend of the month, a weekend which I had planned to run a race. However, I did my best to make up for it the rest of the year. I missed September because I completely blanked and let the month slip past, although if I really wanted to I could categorize my run across the Mackinac Bridge on Labor Day as my race for the month because it was an organized group event even if it was not technically a "race."

Notable moments and races of 2009:

• January: went to Washington to attend presidential inauguration, only to be felled by the stomach flu
  
• February: ran the Super 5K; sidelined for three weeks due to IT band syndrome
• March: ran the Shamrocks and Shenanigans 5K
  
• April: ran the Martian Half Marathon and set a new PR; ran Fit 5K and set a new PR; saw Andrew Bird in concert
• May: Qualified for the Boston Marathon; ran the Dexter-Ann Arbor 10K and set a new PR; domestic reorganization complete; saw Animal Collective in concert (easily my favorite concert of the past several years)
  
• June: ran my first trail race, the Flirt with Dirt 5K; went to Vermont and participated in the Green Mountain Relay
  
• July: ran my first cross-country race in 18 years, the Lyn Yarows Memorial 5K; also ran the excellently-named Homer Hogstravaganza Road Hog 5K (and injured myself in the process); saw Neko Case in concert
• August: went to California for the vacation of a lifetime; ran the Race Thru the Redwoods 10K; ran the Run for the Rolls 1-Mile and set a new PR; saw Great Lake Swimmers in concert
• September: participated in the Labor Day Mackinac Bridge Run as a Fitness Ambassador; saw Sufjan Stevens and Grizzly Bear in concert
• October: ran the Wild Life Half Marathon and set a new PR; saw Andrew Bird in concert (again)
• November: ran the New York City Marathon; saw Neko Case in concert (again)
• December: ran the Run Like The Dickens 5K and the Eve on the Ave 5K

I don't really know what I would like to accomplish in 2010. The past year was one of great personal strife and triumph, and I do not know how I could better it. Yes, I will run the Boston Marathon in April. That race is my only goal at the moment. I would like to do well there. Ideally I would love to re-qualify, but I recognize that may be difficult. I have some modest goals in mind for 2010:

• run 1500 miles
• run a race every month!
  
• reach my Weight Watchers goal weight and become a Lifetime member

And you know what? That's all. That's all I would like to accomplish. I realize that breaking 22:00 in a 5K or 45:00 in a 10K may not be within my reach anymore. I have to accept that I'm getting older and slower.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.

Ten and Ten

Ten miles. Ten degrees. What does such a combination of parameters require?

Lots and lots and lots of layers.

The best part about this run was seeing a flock of bluebirds. Their bright feathers stood in stark contrast to the bare branches and snow-encrusted fields.

I have finally eased back into the routine of rising and running in the dark, cold mornings before work. Boston is 15 weeks from tomorrow. I'll be ready.