Great Black Swamp Festival of Races 25K

That's a long event name. It reminds me of this:

A solid tech tee

In February 2012 and 2013 I ran the Toledo Road Runners Club 25K. I dig the 25K distance--it's more challenging than a half-marathon and burns enough calories to make me feel like it's okay to eat and drink carelessly for the rest of the day. This year the TRRC didn't offer the 25K in February. Also, there is no more Churchill's Half Marathon in March. Also, there used to be some other "Festival of Races" during this time of year. I think the Great Black Swamp Festival of Races is intended to replace all of those events. Seems to have worked out well; there was a turnout way bigger than the former 25K and possibly even bigger than the old Churchill's Half.

The Great Black Swamp Festival of Races offered distances of 5K, 15K, and 25K. It might have been wiser with consideration to marathon training to only run the 15K because we were only supposed to have run a long run of 12 miles this week. Nevertheless I chose the 25K for us because, like I said, I like the distance. I wanted to attempt a PR, too.

See me and Joe at the front of that photo? That's how we look when we're unaware that someone is taking a photo of us. We had no plan for pace prior to the race. We did end up running the majority of it together. Joe told me after we started that he'd try to stick around an 8:45 pace. Within the first mile we were doing closer to 8:30.

Long story short, the race started at Anthony Wayne High School. We ran, did some turns, went uphill a little bit, hit the Wabash Cannonball Trail a couple of times, passed the Fallen Timbers mall, and ended up back at the high school. It was a pretty solid course because we were on the road a lot but there was hardly any traffic and where there was, cops held the drivers so that we could pass through. I was surprised by the little amount of wind with which we had to deal, especially being out in the middle of nowhere.

I said we ran the majority of the race together; although we did a good job of maintaining an 8:15ish pace, I was feeling whooped by mile 13. Joe, on the other hand, was feeling all fresh and shit so he pulled ahead at that point. The final mile was a "memory mile." During registration there was an option to enter the name of a deceased family member or friend, so I went ahead and put in Jessica Fernandez--my 16-year old cousin who died nearly two years ago. Along with probably hundreds of other signs lining the last mile of the route, I passed Jessica's name twice (once for my registration, once for Joe's). That was nice. Also, it was cool to see how many people took advantage of that memory mile thing.

There's Joe finishing followed by me a little bit behind at 2:08:16. I PRed by more than a minute and I mostly have Joe to thank. Truth be told, I was feeling like doodoo early on but was having a good time running with Joe so I tried my darndest to hang with him. Thanks, Joe!

That 2:08:16 was good enough for third place in my age group. My prize? A beer glass!

Elliott being Elliott.

46.5th Churchill's Half Marathon

Yesterday Joe and I ran Churchill's Half Marathon, version 46.5. Churchill's boasts being the second oldest race in Ohio and is sponsored by my favorite grocer, Walt Churchill. I ran the Churchill's Half in March 2012 while training for the Glass City Marathon. For some reason I didn't run it this past spring, then when the directors switched it up to a fall race Joe and I were on board.

Rob was going to run with us but at the last minute he had to pull out due to a death in his family. We didn't do any real training for this race, but we did just run the Chicago Marathon less than a month prior so we weren't concerned. I mentioned in a previous post that it's awesome that I can now just sign up for a distance race without really preparing myself for it. On race morning we both agreed that it wouldn't be a PR morning; instead we were just going out to run our town and score a nice shirt and medal.

This is a good shirt.

The route was a point-to-point--my first run on such a course. At about 7:30AM we headed out the door to drive up to Fallen Timbers in Maumee. During the ride up there I realized that I had forgotten to apply Body Glide to my toes and deodorant to my pits. Joe offered to turn around and go back home so that I could do those things, but I opted to just go natural.

We parked at Fallen Timbers in Maumee, boarded a yellow Perrysburg school bus, road back down to Perrysburg High School, hung out in their fancy-schmancy cafeteria for about an hour to keep warm (my Garmin tells me that it was 41 degrees with wind at 15 miles per hour--more on that later), then walked outside and to the start shortly before 9:00AM.

Walt Churchill himself fired the shot to signal the start and we were off. Joe and I went out a lot fast than I think either of us had planned. He said that he felt fine, but I wanted to back off early. Admittedly, I am fairly certain that any time I say that I want to back off I end up going faster. Joe and I maintained a pace that was a little too fast to start for about three miles. I totally dug on the route because it took us through our town. It's almost like I felt a home field advantage in a weird way.

No roads were officially closed but cops were holding traffic at intersections. On a Sunday morning on the outskirts of Perrysburg there aren't a whole lot of people out and about, but one lady waiting at an intersection in her soccer mom van was absolutely not having it. With her window down as Joe and I passed her she shrieked that "You can't just close the road without telling anyone!" Those of us who heard her laughed, exchanged comments about motorists being angry about runners, and then seconds later she was flying past us. She thought that she could outsmart the race by turning around, only to be held up again at the next intersection. She was trapped and it was awesome.

Mile 1: 8:02

2: 7:59

3: 7:52

So much for backing off. We encountered our first hill which was a big surprise. Hills? In northwest Ohio? We were running close to the mighty Maumee River for much of the race so I guess that's why it wasn't so flat. Another runner assured me that it would be the only hill for a while--I hadn't said anything, but he probably knew what was going through all of our heads. That's when I unfortunately lost Joe. I'm not particularly "good" at running, but I can handle hills. I hate them so much that my brain tells my legs to get me to the top of them as quickly as possible and that the shorter I'm on the hill, the sooner I'll feel relief. After that hill I found myself passing a lot of my competition. I figured that I'd eventually conk out and that they'd all pass me again, but I was going to milk the energy for as long as I could.

Mile 4: 8:08

5: 8:02

6: 8:20

We spent more than two miles on the same country road. The wind gusts were crazy annoying all up in our faces for a lot of that stretch. Mile 6 would be my second slowest of the entire race. I ate my 6 Gatorade strawberry chews hoping that there would be water soon so that I would wash them down. I can't remember exactly where the water was, but I'm pretty sure it was right before mile 8, which is also where we crossed the Maumee into Waterville. The Maumee River is a damn pretty river and it looked all majestic and shit. As I reveled in its beauty, I caught up to some guy who seemed lonely, pulled out his headphones, and started talking to me about running the Toronto Marathon three weeks prior. Although I was feeling okay--not good and not bad, I wasn't feeling talking to him. I peeled off from him after a few minutes of him talking about himself. The rest the race was hilly as a mofo, not just for northwest Ohio, but hilly by any standards. Absolutely the hilliest route I've ever run, be it racing or training.

Mile 7: 8:08

8: 7:53

9: 7:54

Just before mile 10 I could see a huge incline approaching. Race marshals stood at an intersection announcing that water was just at the top of the hill. The field of runners had thinned out; I'm pretty sure that the hills, which seemed to never have a descent after the peak, kicked some butts. I could see one of my former students running up ahead of me. I made it my goal to catch up with him, say "hi," offer some encouragement, and then hopefully hang with the kid and all of his kid energy. I managed to catch up to him, exchange a few words, and then I was somehow pulling ahead of him. Score for the old lady!

That water "just at the top of the hill" seemed really far away from the point at which that was announced. I drank a sip of water and kept on moving. I didn't know it, but the most hellish of hills to run at the end of a distance race was still ahead of me. When I got there somewhere in mile 11 I definitely slowed down. Some crazy dude flew past those of us struggling to make it to the top, screaming "SUCK THAT AMERICAN AIR!" He freaked me out and I was happy that he passed me. I got to the top to find a short stretch of flat ground followed by another incline to a bridge. After all, how else should I have expected we'd cross a major state route?

Mile 10: 7:48

11: 7:49

12: 8:27

That wind that I mentioned earlier? It was awful at about mile 12.5. We made a u-turn to head toward Fallen Timbers and immediately my eyes welled with tears. I still don't know if it was just a physiological effect of the wind hitting my eyeballs so hard or if I was actually crying, but it sucked, thus the approximately 30-second loss between miles 11 and 12. An older couple stood at the end of the wind tunnel shouting that the beer was waiting for me, then "Oh, you're not old enough for beer." Thanks, old people who think that this 29-year old looks like a kid! I was excited to be out of the wind's direct wrath and picked up the pace. The finish area had an awesome, dense, and boisterous crowd that extended probably 100 meters if not longer. About 50 meters from the finish mat a lady screamed at me that some guy was "right on [my] heels" so I kicked it into even higher gear.

Mile 13: 8:00

13.2: 1:23

Official time: 1:45:40

That's a 32-second PR and good for 3rd place in my age group!

So much for going out with no expectations.

Some lady handed me a bottle of water and Walt Churchill shook my hand then awarded me with my super cool medal.

You did a good job. Here, have some socks!

I planted myself in the crowd of spectators and cheered Joe into the finish. He didn't PR, but he finished with a solid time of 1:50 and some seconds. No worries--he still bears the title for fastest half marathon in our house because he destroyed the Glass City Owens Corning Half Marathon earlier this year. We went to the party tent, had a beer from the Black Swamp Brewing Company (it was a tasty red thing), I got my sad age group award (socks, really?), and then we drove home to clean up and have a celebratory, indulgent lunch at Social. a gastropub (I still don't like that name).

Apparently the Churchill's Half Marathon will now only take place in the fall. I'm kinda bummed because I like the "and-a-half" tacked onto the race number, but I absolutely look forward to running it again next year.

Do you prefer racing in your own hood or traveling to races? Ever run a distance race without training? Does a good run trump an underwhelming award?

Bank of America Chicago Marathon 2013 - Part 3

Rob's alarm woke us at 5:00 on race morning. I was surprised to have slept through the night, save for waking up once to mistakenly think Jordan was missing. Never before had I slept so well the night before a distance race. A sign of good things to come? Possibly. There was no time to think about that, though; I jumped out of the couch bed, grabbed my gear, and took my turn getting dressed in the bathroom. I slightly adjusted my bib pinned to the left leg of my shorts, ate half of a Banana Nut Bread Clif Bar (Dare I say that it was better than White Chocolate Macadamia Nut?), laced up my shoes, grabbed my Fierce Grape Gatorade Prime, stuffed my Strawberry Gatorade Chews and Strawberry Clif Shot into my above-the-butt zipper pocket, and then we piled into Rob's cousin's car and drove over to where Tammy, Alex, and Steve were staying.

That's Rob leading the way to check our gear.

The seven of us walked about a mile and a half to gear check at Grant Park. Before we went through the security checkpoint Jordan snapped a photo of us at what is probably some iconic Chicago tourist spot.

Cheesy tourist photo

We were cutting it a lot closer on time than Tammy and I would have liked. By the time we separated from Steve, who was in the second wave, and waited in line to get our bags checked it was 7:00 and we needed to be in our corral (D) by 7:20. Tammy and Rob wanted to hit up a toilet but the lines were crazy long. I pressured them to wait until we got into the corral, where I was certain there would be port-a-potties. I was wrong, but it was too late to leave and get back before they'd close off the corrals. On our way over to the corral I drank my Gatorade Prime. That combined with the cold temperature quickly gave me the urge to pee, but I convinced myself that if I didn't think about it it would just go away.

Pre-race announcements took place and some music played. The music was really lame for a race. Glass City and Columbus did a way better job at pumping me up--ACDC sticks in my memory. Maybe it's because Chicago is a hipster town, but the pre-race music was the kind of Death Cab for Cutie stuff that they play on Alt Nation. There was redemption when they played Born to Run (the only Bruce Springsteen song that I enjoy) for the start, which got my adrenaline flowing by 7:37 when we finally crossed the start mat.

Tammy, Alex, and I took off a little bit ahead of Joe and Rob. Throughout the first mile I started to float ahead a bit just because of the crowd and flow of traffic. I found myself out of reach of Joe and Rob and thought about backing off to run with them for a few more miles at least, but the crowd had me amped up and moving happily from the get-go. I think it was at the mile three water station where I totally lost Tammy and Alex. Again I thought about backing off to try to hang with them, but I figured it would be a pain in the butt to try to get through the mass of runners. There were more than 40,000 of us running, after all.

5K: 27:58

The atmosphere of this race was incredible. I can't imagine there is better crowd support at any race--not even the coveted Boston Marathon. For the entire first half of the race I remember fighting off laughing for no reason other than being happy and amazed due to the awesome spectators. Their signs, their chants, and their high fives had me totally high on life. I ate six of my Gatorade chews in mile 8.

Half: 1:52:11

Miles 13 and 14 were my fastest at 8:09 and 8:08 respectively. I was feeling good and I knew at the time that could have been very good or very bad. Initially when I saw my pace in mile 13 I tried to pull myself back in order to conserve energy and strength that I'd absolutely need later in the second half of the race. When I started mile 14 I told myself "Screw it" and that I'd burn some gas in the tank just because it felt good. In mile 15 I got realistic. Also, I noticed that my feet felt a lot more then as they should have in miles 18 through 20--heavy and tired. My energy was high, my legs were moving great, but my feet felt like cinder blocks. I decided then to have my last six Gatorade chews.

30K: 2:39:36

This is when I started trying to do math in my head. I'm so bad at math. Also, it's when The Blerch was creeping uncomfortably close behind me. My pace over the past few miles slowed to something more reasonable (perhaps realistic?)--about 8:40. What would I need to maintain to finish under four hours? Match my past two marathons at 3:53 and some change? I don't think I was entertaining the idea of a PR. Somehow I decided that I could do 9:00+ miles and be safe. Even right now I don't know if that's accurate. I do remember being content when I was under three hours at mile 20. I think that was also what I deemed a good time to take my Clif Shot. This is the point at which I started walking through water stations, only because I was pretty sure that I was good for time. I saved the Clif Shot for last because it had a caffeine boost. I had never raced with a caffeine gel or chew, but I did use the same Clif Shot later in my two 20-milers for this round of training. I'm pretty sure I've perfected my marathon fueling.

40K: 3:37:31

Here is where I started getting all pumpy-pumped up again. I don't look at course maps before races much the same way I don't watch roller coaster POVs before I ride them. I don't want any surprises to be spoiled! The crowd had grown on both sides of Michigan Avenue and I felt like everyone was there for me--have I mentioned that the spectators are freaking awesome?!

As I crossed the mile 25 mark I got butterflies. I realized that, excluding the previous three water stations, I hadn't walked at all, nor did I ever have the urge to walk (unlike at Glass City and Columbus). Because I was so proud of myself and the spectators were killing it, I told myself to go as hard as I could. In full disclosure, I almost cried a few times in that final full mile. I was about to finish THE Chicago Marathon and with a good time to boot, even if not a PR. Or would it be a PR?

I made the right turn onto Roosevelt to be greeted by a short bridge. Yay! Uphill at the end of a race! Exactly what I wanted. I knew that getting to the top of that little hump, which looked and felt like a mountain, would mean that I'd get to run downhill. A sign read "300 Meters"--good! I was almost there! The left turn onto Columbus Drive revealed the finish. I realized that 300 meters was a lot farther in reality than in my head. Or maybe it's the other way around. Whatever the case, I was so stinkin' happy. As I neared the finish mat I could see that the clock was still under four hours. Given that I started seven minutes after gun time, my happiness jumped up like, seven notches.

I crossed the mat and looked down at my Garmin.

Garmin at the finish: 3:49:12

Official time: 3:49:11

That's a PR of 3 minutes and 52 seconds! Although I didn't know my official time yet, I knew that my Garmin couldn't have been too far off and that I had definitely PRed. Knowing that got me through possibly the most trying part of the day--making my way through what felt like the longest finish chute ever. I accepted a Mylar blanket and my medal, took a bottle of water, fought off the desire to fall over so that medical staff would just carry me away to comfort, passed on snacks, Gatorade, and protein drinks, and then did something that I was incapable of doing at any of my other marathons. That's right, I took a beer. That 312 tasted glorious.

After the race I got my gear, changed out of my sweaty clothes, and took off my shoes and socks to find one of these on each foot:

Pardon my crusty nail polish.

It was an hour and a half later when all six of us were finished. We took pictures before I hit up the medical tent to pop those liquid-filled skin bags.

Team Non-Elite, minus Jordan

Although that wasn't the end of the fun for the weekend, it was a hell of a morning. I will never ever forget that race. I used to think that I'd never run the same marathon twice, but I do see at least one more go-around at the Bank of America Chicago Marathon!

Kip Boulis Memorial 5K

You may have been wondering, "Where is Krista's Cleveland Marathon race recap?" Well, I'm not ready to talk about that yet. It was bad--very, very bad. Instead of writing about it, I have chosen to do what I need to do to move on.

The Kip Boulis Memorial Day 5K helped me to move on.

Prior to the race, I had no idea who Kip Boulis was or why there was a race for him and an access road at Woodlands Park in P-burg named after him. Still, when I found out on Sunday that there was going to be a 5K the following morning (Memorial Day) at Woodlands Park, only a couple of miles from our house, I was in. I didn't think about goals for it--I just wanted to run a race and feel good.

I showed up at Woodlands around 7:15 on Monday morning, registered (no t-shirt for race day registration),  attached my bib to my Ohio Bobcats tech tee and my timing chip to my shoe, BSed with some folks, then lined up at the start near the park entrance on South Boundary. While we waited to start, a new acquaintance in my age group told me that she was aiming for sub-22 then asked me what my plan was. It was the first time since learning about the race less than 24 hours prior that I thought about a goal time. I told her that I'd just run for feel and do whatever pace my legs wanted to run.

At 8:15 we were off, and I didn't look at my Garmin until 0.69 in--at which point I was doing a 6:30 pace. I knew that I had no business running like that, so I worked hard for the rest of the mile to pull myself back. Although I was able to get moving at that pace, it took more than a mile for my legs to feel warmed up. Just before we took a turn into Three Meadows (a neighborhood where I run often), I hit mile one at 7:01.

We meandered through Three Meadows where I greeted some of my "fans" waiting in their front yard. Also in Three Meadows, I started to wonder what my goal was. Could I, like abovementioned acquaintance, also pull off a 5K in under 22 minutes? Probably not, I thought. Eventually, she pulled past me. I was okay with it because, although she's in my AG, I assumed that she was the only one ahead of me, so I should have been able to take second place. Mile two went by in 7:07.

At some point in mile three, I caught up to an older gentleman who sounded like he was running a teeny bit too hard. The wheezing and gasping coming from this dude made me uncomfortable and worry about his health. Also, it annoyed me. Once I passed him around 2.8 miles, back on South Boundary where we started, I was feeling kinda pooped and slowed down a little despite the fact that I very well could have continued pushing. I now regret that I sorta gave up, but I was happy with the run at that point and was confident that I'd place in my AG. After all, the only women ahead of me, as far as I could tell, were old ladies in the 30-34 AG and the girl in my AG who passed me.

Smiling for the finish. I look special!

As I approached the finish back in Woodlands Park, I smiled at the photographer and glanced at the race clock to see 21:57. Only a short distance from the mat, I knew that I'd cross at a few seconds over 22-minutes, but I was happy because that meant a pretty significant PR. I crossed the mat, stopped my Garmin, and made my way to the water cooler, then back to the finish to cheer on those finishing after me.

Thanks! This will go well with our trash can!

Official results a short while later showed that I finished in 22:01, 3rd in my AG. Boo! I thought I'd be second, but apparently a girl from Dave's racing team took first. I think she finished closer to 20 minutes, so yeah, she can go ahead and have that. I was and still am pumped about the PR, a great time, and scoring a coffee mug from which I'll likely never drink. Whodathunk that I was down in the dumps about running for the entire week before that?

Ohhhhh, yeah! And about that Kip Boulis guy--it's a nice story, really. He was a cop who died trying to save lives back in the day. I'm planning to pour one out for him.

Run for Pi, and PR!

On Pi Day, I ran for Pi. I did not eat any pie.

Hi! I'm Krista and I'm one of those annoying runners who poses for cameras!

The 5K distance doesn't particularly interest me. My first race was a 5K in August, 2011, and I only did that one to motivate myself to keep on running, since I had just picked up on running in July. I didn't run another 5K until June, 2012, and I only ran that because it was at Cedar Point. I ran the Run for Pi, which technically isn't a 5K because the official measurements had it at 3.14 miles as opposed to 3.1, only because I needed to run 3 miles on that day. Oh, and I like gimmicks.

I'm the awkwardly-positioned one.

I didn't have a plan for this race in the name of geekery; I expected that I'd take it easy and start off around 8:05, then see where that would take me. No chip timing on this one, so I got myself as close to the starting line as possible without being in the way of those "serious" runners. In the relatively few races that I've run, I've learned that at the start it's easy to get sucked into a pace much faster than I have any business attempting. That photo to the left shows me barely a tenth of a mile into the race, moving at 6:37. Whooooa, doggy.

I got my legs in check and slowed myself down to finish the first mile in 7:10. At the beep of my Garmin, I deliberated whether or not I needed to pull back closer to 8:00, or just play it out at that pace, which felt good and, honestly, kinda easy. I went with the latter and finished mile 2 in 7:06.

When my Garmin beeped again, I was confused. How am I doing this? Why won't, nay, can't I slow down? How badly am I going to hurt later? Am I gonna spew when I'm finished? There's a first time for everything. Still, I felt good. That is, until the course started playing head games with me. I had run 3-milers at the race location plenty of times, since that's where group run takes place. To add a little distance, the race organizers had to add a few extra turns here and there, and they decided to do it all toward the end. First, there was this annoying little left turn then u-turn thing.

Then, where we usually do turn to wrap up the group run, there WAS no turn!

HI!

At that point, I was perturbed because I knew exactly where the finish was, and I knew that I was going to need to pass it in order to get back to it. Eventually, there it was--that big, inflatable arch all like, "Here I am, Krista! But you aren't allowed to cut through that parking lot to get to me! You must run around it to get to me (insert Nelson laugh here)!" Despite the mockery that I made up in my head, I couldn't help but cheese it up when I saw a camera. My facial expression and gesture demonstrate my glee to be almost finished and that, since I had just finished mile 3 at 7:06, I was about to take a big, fat PR.

Maybe it was the lady dressed up like a piece of pie...

And there I am, finishing up that last .14 in 55.6 seconds. I'm not sure what that facial expression is all about. I don't remember anything really interesting or gawk-worthy going on to my right, but I look pretty disturbed by whatever it is I was seeing. Or maybe I was just pooped and very much ready to be finished.

3.14 miles in 22:19. Although it wasn't a true 5K--they even had a sign at 3.1 that read "If this was (sic) a 5K, you would be done!--I'm taking it as a 5K PR (-1:27!!!!).

To make the Pi PR even sweeter (get the play on words?), I won my age group! And I wasn't the only one in it! I am still waiting for official results to show up online, but awards went to the top 6 or 7 in my age group, which leads me to believe that there may have only been 6 or 7 of us. Still, I was on top! BOO-YAH!

The TRRC 25K, again

The Toledo Road Runners Club 25K at Oak Openings was yesterday. I ran it last year in preparation for Glass City and this year it aligned almost perfectly with my CLE training plan. I needed to do 14 miles yesterday, so I figured, "What the hey?" to an additional 1.5.

The race is only available to Toledo Road Runners. I joined the TRRC last year because someone convinced me that it was worth it for the discounted and free races, the 25K being one of the latter. Last year I ended up never using the club discount at any races, and the only free race that I ran was the 25K. Would it be worth it to renew my membership for $20 just to run the 25K again? My brain said "no," but I planned to get in at least 14 miles yesterday and if I were to choose to race, I'd get a shirt out of it.

To prepare to race on Sunday morning, I was well-behaved on Saturday night. I made a delicious, light pasta dish at home for me and Joe--shrimp sauteed in a spicy infused olive oil with chopped basil and chives, tossed with angel hair pasta and topped with freshly shaved parmesan, served with a salad of red romaine in a homemade balsamic vinaigrette. We split a bottle of Savignon Blanc, watched Evil Dead (true love is what we have), and then I was asleep on the couch by 10:00 (while Joe watched Evil Dead again, this time with the audio commentary on).

I woke up around 7:15, bundled up for the 16° air, and was out the door around 8:10 for the 30-minute drive to Oak Openings. It seemed like there were significantly fewer runners than last year's race, but I saw a lot of familiar TRRC faces--the self-proclaimed "Nerd Herd"; the floozies who wear Newtons and always have new, matching outfits for every race; the tall, lanky, dudes who race for the local running stores and are so hardcore that they wear the short shorts even when it's 16° outside. I renewed my membership, registered, and got my shirt. I thought it couldn't get worse than last year's.

2012: Puke green.

2013: I never make copies in this color.

Same creative unique Microsoft Paint design. Same practical normal old man sweatshirt (but the interior is so soft!). Worse color? Still up for debate. Joe says that last year's puke green is way worse than this year's goldenrod. I think he just prefers this year's color because it tugs at his heart strings like the gold and blue of the Toledo Rockets.

Anywho, after throwing my shirt into my car and pacing about trying to warm up, the race was underway at 9:05. No bibs, no mats, and no timing chips for this little race. Just we runners and some old dude yelling "Go!" I had a plan to run smarter than last year. Instead of going out doing sub-8s, this year I intended to stick around 8:30 for the entire race. After all, I wasn't chasing any award (do you think they'd give any kind of award when the race budget only allows for that gem of a shirt up there?). I just needed to run my 14 miles for training. A PR would be a bonus.

I went out about 25 second faster per mile than I had planned. The first mile follows the road out of the metropark and takes runners past a couple of horse farms, and my gaiter couldn't protect me from a solid whiff of horse poop straight to the face. The pack thinned out quickly and once we were out of the park and onto route 295 (boring, straight, windy country road), we were running pretty much single-file in the shoulder of the road. I passed a few people in the next couple of miles before turning onto another boring, straight, windy country road and making it to some water. Rinse and repeat. The route isn't terribly interesting. Actually it borderlines on terribly boring. It's pretty much a figure-8 that you run twice. Running past that Mile 10 sign when you're really only at about 2.5 sucks, but it feels awesome when you've only got 5.5 miles to go.

Mile 10 was where I started to feel really good; I was almost certain that I'd PR, as long as I didn't crap out. That last 5.5 kinda flew by and I didn't find myself doing my usual countdown to pass the time. When I turned onto the final straight-away, which is about a mile, I felt unusually positive. Instead of thinking, "I am so glad that I am almost finished," I was thinking more along the lines of, "I could do a few more." I finished in 2:09 to PR, some old dude handed me a popsicle stick with the number 36, I handed it off to another old person who recorded my number, and I turned the corner to walk to my car.

Here's the comparison between last year and this year:

Oh, AND Joe surprised me. He just missed my finish, because he was busy running 10 miles at home, but he did meet me halfway to my car with a bagel from Barry's and a chocolate milk. What a dude, right? I like him.

As it turns out, I was the 32nd finisher, despite getting popsicle stick number 36. Official time: 2:09:30.