It's almost time for CLE

When did Cleveland people begin referring to Cleveland exclusively as CLE? And how many of those folks actually use Cleveland Hopkins International Airport?

I've wondered that for a long time.

Anywho, it's almost time for marathon number three. May 19th. I have thirty-one miles to run before I find myself at the start line. Less than two weeks. No more double-digit training runs.

I am nervous as all get-out.

Training has gone well. Er, well, running has gone well. I haven't done any cross-training or real speed work since week three or four (oops?). BUT! I have felt so very good running--namely my 17-miler down in Georgia in week 8 and my second 20-miler around P-burg and Maumee a little more than two weeks ago. Joe has finally sold me on the slow-and-steady shorter recovery runs, and a week ago I PRed in 13.1. Dare I say that the Magic 8-Ball should tell me "Outlook good"?

No, I can't. I recently told you about my superstitious attitude. Although I firmly believe that Murphy's Law is a bunch of pessimist nonsense, there are things that could go wrong. Fortunately, I feel confident in myself; it's the weather that concerns me. We've had a couple of unusually warm days over the past week. On one of those days, my run went really well. On the other, I wasn't feeling it at all. That said, Mother Nature might be playing a big role in my performance on the 19th. As the time nears, I don't know that I will bother trying to prepare myself by looking at the weather forecast. I think I mentioned in my Glass City half recap that meteorologists are ass-clowns and cannot be trusted.

Beyond the weather, I'd be lying to say I'm not nervous about reaching my goals for this marathon. Before my first marathon last year, someone told me that I need to have a main goal and a back-up goal. I've really kicked it up a couple of notches insofar as my expectations for that main goal this time around. The nerves stem from that--how badly I want to achieve it, and thinking about the psychological battle that will begin if I realize mid-race that it's not going to happen. I should be able to persevere, but still, I want it. And since there is definitely a possibility that it won't happen, my stomach is already in knots.

I've got less than two weeks to get over it. Thirty-one miles. Then, it's marathon number three.

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"?

2.6 Mile Solidarity Run for Boston

Yesterday I and hundreds of other runners and walkers gathered at Woodlands Park right here in Perrysburg for the Solidarity Run for Boston. Dave's Running put it all together quickly and did a helluva job! I even got to help, even if just a teeny-tiny bit; Tammy, Rob, Alex, and I planned and measured the course during our Sunday run.

A sea of great people.

The Solidarity Run was a 2.6 mile run/walk to benefit those affected by last week's tragedy at The Boston Marathon. Dave's collected donations of money and each contributor received a commemorative t-shirt, which I rocked at work today. One-hundred percent of the money collected is going directly to The One Fund Boston. Rumor has it that we raised more than $16,000. It's one of the many affirmations that people are so good. Let the record show that I was blown away by the turnout. I expected maybe 100 or so, but the unofficial count is at least 800--there were 800 t-shirts available and every single one was gone before the run started.

I arrived solo around 6:30 in some fresh new kicks, made my donation, snagged t-shirts for me and Joe (since he was at class), then waited on the rest of our running group to arrive. Just before 7:00 we lined up to run and out of nowhere, there was Joe! He made it out of class early because he killed a final exam, so he rushed home to get into his running digs and arrived just in time for the run to start. I thought that we were going to take it easy, but I was very, very wrong. Keep in mind that I had just run 20 miles at an awesome pace one day before. Add to that the fact that the number of runners and walkers far exceeded what a lot of us predicted AND the path at Woodlands park is narrow and only three-quarters of a mile around. It was a huge, ahem, clusterfuck at the start. I started my watch anyway.

There I am with Joe, Rob, Jordan, and Steve.

With the aforementioned cluster-you-know-what, we started mile one at a killer 29:11 pace. We bobbed and weaved out of the crowd and finished at a respectable 8:10. Despite the short distance, I hadn't planned on anything like that. After all, it wasn't a race, but an opportunity to help a recovery effort. Oh, AND Jordan and Steve hadn't run for months having both come off of injuries, one a stress fracture and the other some serious plantar fasciitis. Get Joe and Rob together, though, and everything gets all serious. When we finished the second mile in 7:35 I felt a little worn out, but I knew that I could maintain for another point-six. Heaven forbid we'd "maintain," though. At some point, we lost Jordan and Steve, then Joe and Rob took off. I didn't want to be left alone, so I did my best to keep up. We finished the final .66 in 4:41, which was a 7:09 pace.

Finish time: 20:26. And all for an awesome cause.

On the next day, I feel fine. I was ready to go out and do 4 or 5 miles, but a scary-looking storm is coming in, so I'd rather stay inside to eat nachos, chicken wings, and other finger foods.

Oh, yeah, I slipped in there that I got some new shoes. Goodbye, Launch!

Hello, Wave Rider 16! As the left photo demonstrates, my feet have been in the Brooks Launch for a while. One pair didn't make the photo because I donated it last year. The Launch has been good to me; it offered more than the Pure Flow did, but let me feel the road more than the Ghost. Sadly, the future of the Launch is uncertain, so I decided to try something new to prepare for its looming end. Enter Mizuno's Wave Rider 16. Joe has been dissing me for getting shoes that look just like my old shoes, but my other option was light purple. You understand, right?