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!

Glass City Owens Corning Half Marathon

Heading into the Glass City half...

Good things:

1.) Weather forecast called for 50s and dry.

2.) I slept all night Saturday.

3.) No pre-race nervous poops or fits of tears.

Bad things:

1.) It rained. A lot.

2.) I did not Not one of the 6 of us packed a change of shoes or a towel.

3.) I woke up with a migraine.

Those who know me know that migraines for me are not just really bad headaches with sensitivity to light and sound and an upset stomach. No, no, no--when Krista gets a migraine, Krista suffers through stages:

Stage 1: Constant blind spots that pretty much keep me from being able to see anything for about 30 to 40 minutes.

Stage 2: Feeling of a nail being driven into a localized spot on my head, which moves from migraine to migraine, lasting anywhere from one hour to an entire day. For the first hour or so, I tend to poop. A lot.

Stage 3: This one actually begins about 20 minutes into Stage 2. I feel nauseated, occasionally leading to dry-heaving, for a few hours.

Fortunately I had prepared all of my gear and goodies the night before: bib was attached to my shorts, outfit was out and ready to go, and my post-race dry clothing bag was packed*. I stayed in bed an extra 15 minutes until about 5:15, brushed my teeth in the dark (with Joe's assistance), got dressed, stopped at Speedway for some ginger ale, and off to the University of Toledo we were.

We arrived after sitting in race traffic for a good five to ten minutes. The cops seemed to do a great job of attempting to control the flow of traffic. Unfortunately, there were some dummies who screwed things up for the rest of us. If there is a barricade blocking a road that is the freaking start of the race, you should not attempt to drive through it. Nevertheless, we were parked with about 40 minutes to spare. I booked it into Savage Arena to poop, which I usually do first thing in the morning, but if you read about the stages of the migraine, then it makes sense.

We got a lot of love for our shirts.

Team Non-Elite Team Glowstick gathered, planted ourselves just in front of the 8:12/mile pace group, and shortly after 7:00AM the music was blaring, I was fist-pumping, and we were off. There was light rain, but I figured it would be gone quickly, namely because every weather forecaster in the city of Toledo guaranteed that the chance of rain Sunday morning was very low, and that it would likely only be the marathoners dealing with it after 9:00AM. I should have gone into meteorology because they get paid to be wrong all the time.

Our group's goal was to finish in 1:45 (not my idea, but I was game for the challenge), which would mean maintaining an 8:00/mile pace. After mile 1, we did a really good job of holding that pace. Around mile 5 I did want to back off, but because it wasn't due to injury or even my migraine, which I had completely forgotten by the time we started (ginger ale + endorphins from running = kick-ass pain-reliever), I kept on going.

Mile 1: 8:25

2: 7:58

3: 8:00

4: 7:59

5: 7:58

I only brought one Clif Shot with me to take around mile 7; in retrospect, I wish that I would have planned to have taken two. I got the whole thing down in two consecutive gulps, took a sip of water, and managed to keep it all down. For the next mile, I did a lot of thinking about running the full last year. It's at mile 8.5ish in Wildwood where the half runners split off from the full. I thought about how great I felt at that point last year, and I was actually kind of sad that I was more than halfway finished. The marathoners eventually make their way back to that point, so the final 4.5ish miles are the same for the half and full. As I reached miles 9, 10, and 11, I thought about how challenging it was to be on that path last year, passing the markers for miles 22, 23, and 24.

I wanted to push harder, but I couldn't get past how badly it sucked to be soaking wet. Those damned weathermen!

Mile 6: 8:04

7: 8:02

8: 8:05

9: 7:59

10: 8:07

I didn't catch a second wind, but I started to lighten up as we neared UT's campus. Despite the weather, there was a phenomenal crowd of spectators at the campus end of the University Parks Trail. By the time we made it there, Joe had hit an incredible flow and was distancing himself farther and farther ahead of us. I wanted to be able to catch up with him, but it didn't bother me that I didn't because I was so freaking proud of him. The race has an awesome end in the Glass Bowl, and as I approached its entrance I could hear Joe's name announced when he finished. I shouted, "THAT'S MY HUSBAND!", which got laughter and cheers from the people lining the route.

And finally, before I knew it, I was on the field, hoping to not slip on the wet turf, crossing the finish mat.

1:46:12--A 2+ minute PR!

And Joe? Joe PRed by more than 5 minutes!!!!!

Sorry for all of those exclamation points. I am clearly still very excited about it! I am waiting on official photos to show up online. In the meantime, here's a real keeper of me and Tammy. Of note is the fact that one of her legs was numb and she thought she was going to puke, but I felt fine. You'd think it had been the other way around from the looks of this one...

Tammy: I'm so pretty!
Krista: KILL ME NOW!

*About that post-race dry clothing bag. We were all wet and subsequently miserable after the race. Like a group of weird swingers, we packed into the Dave's Elite Runners trailer (don't ask how or why), covered one another with mylar blankets as privacy curtains, and changed into our dry clothes. Unfortunately, since not one of us thought to bring a towel, we were just getting our new dry clothes wet. Also, all of us DID remember to pack a dry pair of socks, but we all put on our wet race shoes over them. Is this what hipsters call "a fail"?

Cedar Point 5K Challenge 2012

If you know me and Joe even just a teeny-tiny bit, you know that we love amusement parks and theme parks.  We had discussed how cool it would be to run a race at Cedar Point.  Lo and behold, last year was the inaugural year of the Cedar Point 5K Challenge.  We got word of this year's race several months ago and registered immediately.  Yesterday (Father's Day) was race day.

On Saturday we drove out to Sandusky for packet pickup at Castaway Bay.  This packet was the packet of all packets.  Photo and details are on my Facebook page.  Afterwards we headed home and went to bed too late (after 11) for the early hour that we'd be rising (4:30ish).  I don't think I fell asleep until nearly 1:30AM, so I wasn't thrilled when the alarm went off.  We needed to get moving on that 1+ hour drive to Cedar Point, so there was no option to snooze.  For whatever reason, I volunteered to drive and once we got on the road, I realized that I should have been sleeping in the passenger seat.

Without incident of me falling asleep at the wheel, we arrived at Cedar Point to some light rain around 6:15.  We waited in the car for the rain to stop, and then closer to 6:30 we stepped out and into the nasty, warm, muggy air and played the waiting game.  The forecasted high in Sandusky was near 90 and at the time of the race, humidity was hovering around 90%.  The men's race was beginning at 7:00 and the women's at 7:30.  At packet pick-up, we heard that there were nearly 400 runners.  On race morning, that became "more than 350."  Race results show just short of 300.  We're thinking it's due to the number of runners and the tight space in some of the midways that men and women didn't run together--less congestion.

Just before the men's race, I wished Joe luck and gave him a firm but gentle go-get-em smack on the left butt cheek, watched him run into the park, and then waited some more.  As the female runners began straggling over to the starting line, I decided I'd try something new: a pre-race warm-up run.  I just did a few laps at a really easy pace around the back end of the parking lot.  About 7 minutes before my race started, I saw Joe approaching, blue Gatorade in hand.  He finished in 22:30!

At 7:30, I was off.  For the first two-tenths of a mile or so I struggled to reach a comfortable and safe pace; I started around 6:30, but finally got up to 7:30ish.  Once I got through all of the women who started the race too far in front, I was feeling good.  The route took us into the park at what is basically a service entrance between Disaster Transport and Space Spiral.  After that, I failed to really pay attention to my surroundings--rather than relishing in racing in one of my favorite amusement parks, I found myself focused on passing each runner I approached and contemplating whether or not I'd be able to pull off veering off-course to run through a sprinkler.

I mentioned that I got myself to a 7:30ish pace.  In front of Dodgem, I finished mile 1 in 7:38, which had me feeling good and certain that I'd PR.  Honestly, I didn't doubt for a second that I wouldn't PR, as my first and only other 5K was my first race ever, run in just over 28:00.  As I passed Millennium Force, I looked down at my Garmin and my pace was up around 7:50.  Crap.  I was really going to need to pick up the pace to get the 5-minute PR that I secretly wanted.  I just couldn't get my legs to move at the pace I needed.  I tried to think about what was holding me back: The thick, wet air?  The tight turn-around at Maverick?  These practically non-existent inclines?  No water in a 3-mile race?  Are you noticing that my excuses became more and more pansy-ish?

Mile 2 was at Camp Snoopy.  We ran through there, down the Dragster Midway, and turned left toward Windseeker.  In front of the Giant Wheel was a race volunteer, cheering us on and letting us know that there was only about a half-mile left; my Garmin confirmed that, showing 2.61.  At this point, it was obvious that I would get no chance to splash any water at my face, nor would I cross a sprinkler close enough to the course to not lose any time.  Nevertheless, I was feeling positive having passed a handful of people and not a single runner had passed me.

At about 2.8 miles, the rest of the race was a straight-away to the finish.  There was one young girl a bit ahead of me and one close behind.  The girl behind me kicked it into high gear around 2.9 and passed me, ending up a few yards ahead.  I passed Joe, cheering me on near the finish, and then high-tailed it, caught up to the girl who had just passed me, and finished one-tenth of a second behind the girl who had just been yards ahead of me.  My pace across the finish was 6:06, so I was feeling pretty beat once I hit the brakes.  I haven't run a lot of races (this was my 7th), but this was the first time that I thought I was going to dry-heave.  I kept composed on my way to the post-race refreshments, but didn't feel well enough to turn around and greet Joe just yet.

The results are in:

23:46.6 (PR!!!)

14/147 females

5/33 females 20-29
73/284 overall