First Run

Hal Higdon, in his Marathon book, suggests resting for 7-10 days after a marathon. I rode a bike during the week following the race and felt it, so decided to wait 10 days before I ran. I'm visiting the Golden State and stayed overnight near the San Francisco airport, so my run this morning was along the bay.

The weather was in the low 60s and slightly overcast. I didn't bring anything with long sleeves, since it's the end of June, but as soon as I started running I warmed right up. There's a nice path that goes along the water and I enjoyed looking at the sea birds and the earthtones of the surrounding hills. I followed the path until it got to a marina. I love being around boats. I have a small sailboat and being at the marina reminded me that my boat has been in the water for at least a month and I have yet to sail. I must remedy that--soon!

I've run along this path before, but never enjoyed it more than this morning. It just felt so good to be out running! I ran light--no water belt, no CrapCam, no GPS. It was an absolutely perfect way to be back on the road.

Race Pictures

Thank you, everyone, for your kind comments. Words can't express how much they mean to me. The misery of the marathon has faded and is replaced by pride in finishing. Yeah! Here are some pictures of Grandma's Marathon that my husband took. They capture the spirit of the race. Juls, let me know if you want any and I'll e-mail the files to you.

Buses brought runners to the starting line in Two Harbors

Heading to the starting line

Spectators eagerly anticipate the start of the race

Road Signs

Middle of the pack

Runnin' Grannies

Avoiding the port-a-potty line

Men in Skirts. Blogfather Mark would feel right at home.

Mile 26 to...

...and fro

Almost #&@*$ there

Finish Line

Mission Accomplished!

Why We Run

Chris Carr, from the local paper, ran his first marathon, Grandma's, last Saturday and kept a blog on the paper's web site. On one of his posts he asked people their reasons for running. He got a lot of comments and compiled some of his favorites into a photo-essay, using images from the Star Tribune archives. It's well-done and worth viewing. There's no music, but you can play the theme from Chariots of Fire in your head. :-)

If you're inspired, feel free to add your own reasons!

Determined

First, thanks to all your well-wishes and support. The good news is I finished the marathon. The bad news is that it took so long—6:44:39—that it doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment.

Is there anyone as optimistic as a marathoner? We say things like, “I’m going to achieve a personal record,” “I’m going to qualify for Boston,” or “It’s going to be so much FUN!”

The reality of a marathon is another story.

The alarm went off Saturday morning at 4:30. I had bathed and laid out everything I needed the night before and was eating breakfast by 5 a.m. The starting line was in Two Harbors and I was staying about a half-hour north of there. I wasn’t sure how bad the traffic would be, so I wanted to get to Two Harbors early. Buses would take the runners to the starting line, which was on Scenic Highway 61, closed that morning to traffic.

My husband dropped me off at the motel where buses would pick up. I waited in the lobby and chatted with some other runners. Someone noticed my water belt and asked if I was planning to wear it for the race. I explained that I was a slow runner and how in past races the water stops would close before I got to them, so I wanted to make sure I was able to stay hydrated. “What keeps you going,” one woman asked. I didn’t understand the question--what keeps any marathoner going? “Determination,” I replied.

It seemed to take forever before the bus dropped us off at the starting area. I called Juls and we arranged to meet. As I was approaching the area, there was a beautiful young woman with a big, bright smile. It took me a moment to realize it was Juls! We walked together toward the start and my husband happened to be walking towards us with his camera, so he took our picture.


We chatted as I looked for my running group, then she assumed I’d want to stand in the port-a-potty line before the race began. This woman knows me; she reads my blog! We wished each other luck, then I went to queue up and Juls went off to find someone else she was planning to meet.

In the port-a-potty line I heard someone call out to some guy named Chris, who was standing a few people in front of me. He turned sideways and I realized it was the marathon blogger from our local paper, Chris Carr. I introduced myself to him and met his running partner Troy. I should have taken his picture, since I had the CrapCam, but I didn’t think about it until he was almost to the front of the line. And I certainly wasn't going to get between the man and an available toilet.

I never did find the running club, but encountered a couple of women from there, and we wished each other luck. Then I lined up and searched for KT from my old running club, who was running her first marathon. I never did find her, but some other people I know found me and we chatted until the gun went off.

Dree, a young woman I know who was running her first Grandma’s and second marathon, wanted to run with me. Her dad was running too, but he is much faster and an experienced marathoner. She was feeling under-trained and wanted to stay with me for moral support. I was afraid I’d be too slow for her, but we ran together for the first 12 miles. It was nice to have the company and we dedicated each mile to someone going through some adversity, including Back of the Pack dealing with a bad ticker, and Juls, trying to fulfill her dream of a BQ. After mile 12, Dree wanted to try to catch the 5:30 pace group. Eventually she did and their pace felt too slow so she ran ahead of them and finished in good time. I'm proud of her and more than a little envious.



“It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” as the saying goes. The weather was already warm at 6 a.m. and I didn’t even need the sweatshirt I had brought to stay warm at the starting area. The isolated thunderstorms that were predicted kept the air humid, and when the sun came out, it became downright oppressive. At the water stops, they were handing out ice cubes, which I would put under my cap and in my sports bra. The heat sapped the strength of many runners and I was doing my best to stay hydrated and keep my electrolyte levels up. Thanks to Hal Higdon’s marathon book, I learned to pinch the water cups, which made it easier to drink as I walked. And my dear husband kept popping up along the way to hand me a fresh water bottle or some gels. He kept trying to pass off a banana on me, but I couldn’t stomach that!

I know a girl who told me that Grandma’s was the most boring marathon she ever ran. I couldn’t imagine how someone could be bored during a marathon, but now I understand. As scenic as Hwy. 61 is, it got tedious. There were few spectators for the back of the pack and everyone was quiet. I think around mile 19 I called out to no one in particular, “Are we ever going to get off this highway!” A man said we were almost to London Road. Good.

There were more spectators once we got into town. The water stops were out of ice—it had all melted—so I begged some from the spectators who had coolers! Looking at my Garmin times, mile 20 is where I really started to hurt. The Mile 19 split was 15:42, and Mile 20 was 19:46. It was just around noon when I began Mile 21, and it took me over two hours to go the next 6.2 miles. Both legs ached, from my hips to my ankles. That’s probably where I started walking more than running. My husband called to find out where I was and I told him I was approaching Lemon Drop Hill. Well, I could see it, which was just beyond Mile 22, and to me that meant it was approaching.

At the top of the hill I stopped in the medical tent for some Tylenol. I don’t usually take painkillers while running, but I didn’t think I’d finish without it. I asked for some Biofreeze, but they only had ice, so I sat down and iced my legs. Yes, that was stupid to sit down. My Mile 23 split was 26:26! But I got up to finish the race. I never considered not finishing. Knowing how important a positive attitude is during a marathon, I would not let myself think any negative thoughts. Quitting was not an option! Whatever it took, I would cross the finish line. Turns out, it took a lot.

I hobbled along the next few miles, and was singing that stupid 25 Miles song. (My iPod battery died several miles back.) I counted the streets, until I finally reached Downtown Duluth. The streets were brick and I had no intention of trying to run on brick—I ached enough! The sky was turning dark over the lake and I wondered if it would hold until I finished. One official advised me that severe weather would arrive in a half-hour. Thanks, I can see that. A police patrol drove by and told me to get on the sidewalk (Grandma’s permit has a 6-hour limit.) So I got on the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians and using the wheelchair curbs so I wouldn’t have to use my knees to climb up and down. "Fifteen minutes until severe weather approaches," another official warned. Great.

And then the skies opened up. Right around Mile 25. Well, I had run in the rain plenty of times, so I knew I wouldn’t melt. I was just glad there wasn’t any hail or lightning. But water gushed down the street and my shoes were soaked. Although I was still walking, the Tylenol had kicked in and I was able to pick up the pace. A man and a woman passed me and I asked where they came from. I thought I was the only one left. They assured me there were others behind me, but I didn’t look back.

Lucky for me they were there so I could follow them. The route wasn’t clearly marked any more and I saw them ask for directions. As I passed the back of the Convention Center, a crowd of people were huddled under the roof, trying to stay dry. I assume they were runners that had already finished their race. They let out of a roar as I passed by. I was too focused to acknowledge them, but I heard them and it went straight to my heart.

I had continued with my mile dedications, for the troops, for my husband, for the volunteers, and at Mile 24, for Team Hoyt. That’s when I remembered the quote from Dick Hoyt about it takes courage to finish. It spurred me on. I was really close now. I dedicated the final mile to me. Not exactly the right spirit, but screw everyone else, this one’s for Team Dorine! Now I was almost to Canal Street, where I would turn right and head straight to the finish line. My phone rang, but I ignored it. I was sure it was my husband and I knew he’d see me soon enough. I didn’t want to take the time to mess with my phone. I just wanted to be done.

I turned down Canal Street and there was my husband, ready with his camera. The race photographer was gone and the clock was down. The chip mats were still there, though, and they chirped as I crossed. No cheering crowds. No glory. But my sweet, loyal husband stood by and waited for me. I just wanted to cry, not because I was disappointed over the time, although I was, but because I was so tired. It didn’t feel like much of a victory; it just felt empty. We walked down the deserted finish chute and someone came over and handed me a medal. Then another volunteer came and took my chip off, and directed me to where I could get my finisher’s shirt.

I picked up my gear bag and went into the changing tent. My running clothes were so drenched from the downpour, I literally had to wring them out. When I came out of the tent, I gave all my gear to my husband then he went to get the car. I tried to find some food. There was a food area, but it required tickets. I thought it was for the athletes, and I kept asking where I get my food ticket. But it was a commercial party and my money was being carried to the car. I was getting frustrated. And I’m afraid, bitchy. I wailed to a volunteer that I needed some effing food! Then I apologized for swearing. I don't like to abuse volunteers--they don't get paid enough! He pointed out a tent (no sign) where the food used to be. They were packing it up. I went over and asked if they had any bananas left. A woman reached into one of the boxes and handed me three bananas, an apple, two boxes of raisins, and a couple of Cliff Builder’s Bars. Paydirt! I thanked her and told her I’d share it with the other runners, but the only people I saw were not interested. So I ate while I waited for my husband to pick me up.

He drove me back to our hotel, which was probably 40 miles north of Duluth. I slept for about an hour, then dressed and we went out to dinner. I wore my medal like it was a pearl necklace! There were other diners wearing medals, but I was the only woman with one. A lady came by my table and congratulated me. I didn’t enlighten her on how badly I ran; I just said thank you. Then ate my chocolate dessert. :-)

Oh, the Insanity

Before I start talking about ME, I want to say Good Luck to Juls. She's also running Grandma's this weekend and is hoping to qualify for Boston with this race. We're going to have a mini-RBF meetup in Duluth. I'm looking forward to meeting her.

Also, here is the picture I wasn't able to upload in my previous post. I switched to Mozilla (thanks for the tip, Back of the Pack!)



Now about me...I'm an emotional wreck! In addition to preparing for Grandma's Marathon, I'm in the process of getting my house ready to put on the market, build a house in another state, and just be a perfect wife and homemaker. On top of that "my friend" (as they used to say) came to visit. I'm stressing over the fact that I'm supposed to be relaxing this week. I have to de-clutter my house but I'd rather be swinging in a hammock.

Here's my secret confession: I want to be like Bree from Desperate Housewives. Everything in its place, perfect clothes, capable of whipping up an intimate dinner party without breaking a sweat. OK, so she turned to drinking to cope and dumped her teenage son at a gas station. But still. Instead I'm more like Lynette (only as a housewife, she's a capable executive which I never was.) Here's another confession; I once took a "which desperate housewife are you" quiz and it turned out to be Gabrielle! Not because I'm sexy, but because of the "I'll pay you to do the work for me" attitude.

Well, this has nothing to do with running. But I've been feeling overwhelmed and emotional this week. Tonight my running club had our pasta dinner and as I was saying goodnight, wishing people luck on their race, I suddenly got all choked up. I've been running with this group for three months, and even though I didn't know most of their names, I knew their faces. Plus, I probably won't be training with them after this; I'm going to run with a different group that I heard has some slower runners. I drove home along the River Road, a route that I did many of my training runs on. I guess it hit home how final this was and that I have a race in, OMG, 3 days!

I take some comfort in the fact that other marathoners are going insane this week too. It makes me feel normal. :-)

Sin-full

Yesterday I did my final long run before Grandma's. The schedule called for 8-10, so we compromised with 9 miles. I ran with friends Emdi and Nee, and they kindly let me set the pace. The weather was cool, which was fine with me (I never thought I'd be saying that!) But I find it's easier to run in cooler weather rather than hot, humid climate. I originally put on long sleeves and leggings, but it wasn't that cool, so I changed into shorts and short sleeve, with a vest. I didn't need the vest.

We met at 9 a.m. at the Lake Harriet Pavillion. It's a nice bandshell overlooking the lake, with the ever important bathrooms nearby. On Sunday's in the summer they have church services, and on weeknights they have concerts. It's right by a little marina of day-sailors. No motors are allowed on the lake. In the winter there's an ice skating rink. This is also the meeting place for various 5-Ks, including the Reindeer Run in December and the Valentine's 5K in you know what month.

I got there a little early and warmed up. Then I saw my friends and we discussed what we were going to do. I debated using the bathroom for the third time in a half-hour, then decided against it. I should have known better! Oh, well.

We ran along the eastern shore of the lake, taking a short detour into the Rose Garden. Emdi's son proposed to his wife there. I've driven past the Rose Garden many times, but in the fifteen years I've lived here, have never been in them. It was a nice diversion. Then we headed south along Minnehaha Parkway. I've done lots of training runs there and enjoy this route a lot. There are trees and the paved trail hugs Minnehaha Creek. Plus it's not as crowded with runners as Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriet are. We ran a little past 4 miles, then turned around.

It was really nice to have company on a run for a change. I've trained with Emdi before and like her alot. She's the kind of person who will stay with you, even though she's capable of running faster. And she's full of interesting conversation, which makes the time go by. Nee is Emdi's co-worker and she's very nice, but young enough to be my daughter. She didn't rub it in, though. Both Emdi and Nee are triathletes and are running the Grandma's Half-Marathon on Saturday. I have a really cute picture of them, but stupid Blogger won't let me upload it. I've been trying for two days now!

As we were heading back, I was looking forward to reaching the community center. There are bathrooms there and water to refill out empty bottles. But the center is closed on Sunday. Oh no! Lucky for us, there was a park across the street which had a decent bathroom and a water fountain. Whew!

Back at the Lake Harriet parkway, we "closed the loop" by continuing clockwise. Emdi didn't like that idea, because she thought it would add more distance. But we were halfway around the lake, so it didn't really add much. Towards the end, I did some pickups. Coach Dan said we should do sprints for about 100 meters at the end of the run. I'm not sure why, but who am I to argue. I did two pickups and called it quits at 9 miles.

Afterwards, we went out for breakfast. Gosh, just like a real running group. We were in our sweaty running clothes and walked into a restaurant filled with conservative elderly people, wearing their Sunday best. They seated us in an obscure spot, but they seated us, and we had a hearty breakfast. Carbo-loading to the max. I felt compelled to explain to the teenage girl waiting on us that we were runners. After all, it was Sunday and gluttony is a sin. :-)

Almost a Marathon

There's a song from the sixties that goes through my head on my long runs. I just Googled it to find the name of the song. The singer has been walking for three days and two nights to get home to his woman. This man knows tired! It was a hit by Edwin Starr and the name of the song is "25 Miles". Besides the motivational lyrics, it has a good beat.

Let me tell you ya'll
I, I, I, I, I'm so tired
but I just can't lose my stride

Come on feet don't fail me now
I got ten more miles to go
I got nine, eight, seven, six
I got a five more miles to go
Now over the hill just around the bend
Huh although my feet are tired I can't lose my stride

I got to keep on walkin'
I got to walk on oh ho ho

It Takes Courage

Well, I guess the San Diego Marathon kicked a lot of RBF butts. Some, sadly, before they were even able to get to the starting line. But I learned something from each of you and will carry it with me to Grandma's. So a big, fat, CONGRATULATIONS to all of you. You trained, you ran, you rocked!

Last night was motivation night at our group. The National Running Director for LTF (we just call him Dan) joined us and we ran around the track -- three miles marathon pace with a shag in between miles. He had us play mind games. The first mile was the beginning of the race, where you feel great and you run too fast. The second was the middle of the race and he had us run too fast, then practice slowing down by shortening our stride rather than putting on the brakes. I guess that's to keep us from hurting ourselves. The final mile was Mile25 and he wanted us to GO FASTER. As if! Dan ran the final lap with me and told me when I run in a group to keep my eye on the hip of the person just ahead of me. I practiced with him and felt like a race horse being put through its paces. But it was COOL! We stayed in step the whole lap.

Back at the club, Dan gave tips and inspiration. He's full of great stories. He told us about Tony Schiller, who was racing the Ironman in Hawaii and how he had dislocated his shoulder during the bike race, then in the running segment realized that he wasn't going to win and he had gone there to WIN. Sitting down at the side of the road, he decided to just wait for the EMTs to come give him a ride to the finish. As he sat there, a man and his son came by. They were still biking. The son had Cystic Fibrosis and the Dad had to push his son in the water for 2.4 miles, then pick him up and put him on the bike (I'm not sure how), ride for 112 miles, then run a marathon while pushing the son in a carriage. This was their second Ironman attempt; they DNF the previous year because they missed the deadline in one of the segments by something like 30 seconds. They were biking and still had the marathon to run. As they passed Tony, the Dad looked at him and said, "It takes courage to finish." Tony thought about that and got up and finished the race.

This is a true story, but Dan told it better than I just did. I was trying to condense it. He said the father and son's name, but I don't remember them. I had to wipe away tears.

Before we went out to run, I expressed my nervousness about the upcoming marathon to Coach Jan. With two DNFs under my water belt, it's hard not to worry. As I was running to the track, slow and stiff, I started to question why I was even trying to run a marathon. Then I reminded myself that I better have an answer by marathon day or I'm toast. But the track workout went so well that I left feeling that a 5:30 finish was do-able. I gotta hang on to that!

Bridge to Bridge

Saturday's run was "only" 12 miles. Heh. I love being able to say that. Just a few short months ago, I was afraid of 12 miles. It feels good to see progress in my running.

We started out at 7 a.m. to beat the heat. No getting lost this time; I knew this route! Just tell me where the water stop will be. I ran up the east side of the River Road and it was joyful. As I ran north, other groups were heading south on the same road. One group was the MDRA--I don't know if they were training for Grandma's or kicking off the Twin Cities Marathon training, but there were a lot of people.

After that came another herd of runners--the Team In Training group. "Go TNT" I said as I passed them. "Whoo-Hoo" they replied. They're training for the Nike Women's Marathon and I felt envious. Marathon Envy--who knew? Maybe I can sign up for that next year.

The weather was beautiful--clear skies, 70 degrees. Rowers were slicing through the water, their coach shouting out motivation. I wondered if I would run better if I had a coach that yelled at me. Probably, but I don't really want to be yelled at.

My iPod battery was dead but that was fine. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to hear the Canada geese as they passed overhead in V formation, calling out as they flew. People who live near water dislike the geese but since I don't have to deal with goose-poop, I like them. Especially the babies, which I haven't been able to photograph yet.

We ran along the River road, from the Ford bridge to the Washington Ave. bridge, which is by the University of Minnesota campus. When I got to Washington Ave. I stopped to take a picture of the Weisman Museum. It's a modern art museum designed by Frank Gehry and built in 1993.



I ran around on the campus, trying to find a bathroom. I didn't really have to "go", but I figured I'd take advantage of the proximity to modern plumbing. Unfortunately, everything was closed! The student union didn't open until 9 a.m., and it was only 8:45. Waiting around for 15 minutes wasn't something I was willing to do, so I left.

I headed south along the East River Road, crossed at the Franklin Ave. bridge, and continued down the West River Road, which was shadier. There were a lot of bicycle riders and many of them were wearing numbers. But it didn't seem like much of a race. Later, I found out that it was a bicycle equivalent of the Race for the Cure.

Normally I eat gels for energy. But I got a sample of Shot Bloks from the nice people at Cliff Bar, so I tried it on this run. It was really good; like eating gummy candy. I'm definitely going to have some of those on the marathon. I can handle about three gels, but after that it's hard to choke them down. So it will be good to have an alternative.

The water stop was under the Lake Street bridge. My water bottle was empty but I knew I was close. I was so happy to see the familiar container! I filled the water bottle with sport drink and chomped on a few Starburst candies. But I didn't linger. I'm trying to emulate the race, where there is no resting except for the walking breaks.

As I approached the Lock and Dam, I passed some other runners going the opposite direction. It was the LTF running club from Bloomington, a nearby suburb. They ran on their own, even though they left from our club. They started later. We exchanged "Good Job" and I wondered how far they were going. By the time I realized I should have told them about the water stop, they had already passed. Turned out their coach knew about it, but they didn't run that far.

While I was running across the Ford Bridge, the Bloomington running group passed by, heading back to the club, like I was. When I arrived, they were milling around stretching and I asked the coach if they were going out for breakfast. He said yes and I met them there after showering and changing into street clothes. Next Saturday we're scheduled for 8-10 miles. And the one after that is Grandma's!

Grandma's Preview

Grandma's Marathon is not a race in which only grandmothers participate. It was originally sponsored by the Grandma's restaurant chain. They are no longer the primary sponsor, but the name remains. This year marks the 30th anniversary of Grandma's Marathon.

Marathon Headquarters, where it all comes together.

The lift bridge, behind the finish line, can be seen for miles.

I can picture myself running across this finish line!

Fears and Tears

Minneapolis and St. Paul are know as Twin Cities, with downtown centers about 10 miles apart. But they're more fraternal twins than identical. People who live in Minneapolis don't usually venture across the river to St. Paul; there's no need to. I supposed the people east of the river feel the same way about their town. I've lived in Minneapolis for about 15 years and I may have been to St. Paul more than some of my neighbors who've grown up here.

My running group is in St. Paul. It's exposed me to different places to run and I like that. For Saturday's long run we went to historic Fort Snelling, an area I pass on the way to the airport, but never visit.

Since I'm the slowest in the group, the coach had me leave before the others. Problem was, she was briefing everyone on where we were going to run. I got quick instructions on how to get to the water stop, where we would re-group.

As I ran south along the River Road, I realized I had no clue what our running route would be after the water stop. As the fast people started to pass me, I called out to the coach that I didn't know where I was going! She said they'd wait for me. Okay, fine.

I managed to make it to the water stop, saved by some runners who arrived and turned right just as I was about to turn left. At the water stop, we were told to go out, run two loops and come back, then leave the park and we'd be less than two miles from the club. I started out, behind the others.

The two loops were supposed to be two loops around the island. But I missed that part. I thought the road was shaped kind of like the letter "P" with the water stop at the base of the letter; that we'd run out, run some loop a couple of times, then head back to the water stop and the club.

The area was beautiful! Wooded, along the Mississippi River, and with a nice dirt path to run on. I was soon alone, but just as there was a choice between going left or veering right, my coach and another woman were coming towards me from the right. As she passed I asked if the loop was going to be obvious and she assured me it would be. When I came to another path that offered a choice between left or right, I again kept to the right. When I got to the end, I followed the path as it curved to the left.

We're in the middle of a heat wave, so it was hot and humid! When we started out, the temperature was about 70 degrees with 76% humidity, and climbed to 85 by the end of the run. But I had my water bottle and plenty of gels. And the water stop wasn't too far away.

As I continued, I saw the path to the left. Not sure what to do, but remembering that the loop would be "obvious", I turned left, figuring it would lead back to the path that I started on, which it did. At one point there was a huge thing in the middle of the path. It turned out to be a wild tom turkey and a hen. I took their picture, then approached gingerly. They mosied over into the woods. I'm glad they weren't aggressive--I've had Canada geese hiss and chase me and it's not fun. Unfortunately they're just two black blobs in the picture, so I didn't upload it.

I saw the second slowest runner in our group, M., shortly after. She was also running alone and had turned around at some point and changed direction just to ease the boredom. She told me that we were running on Pike Island. That was good to know.

Again, I got to the end and followed the path as it curved to the left. This time I continued past the first trail where I had turned left. I was enjoying the scenery and listening to my iPod. When I got to the next fork, I turned left, and when it took me to the other side, I turned right to head back to the water stop. That's when I got lost.

I love the country. I just don't have inherent survival skills. I need to know where I am and where I'm going, with a plan on how to get there.

Remember, I was in the woods. My running group was long gone by this time. It was unseasonably hot and I had run about 10 miles by this point. I was hot, tired, and in no mood to be exploring. I came to a bridge, but I didn't remember crossing a bridge, so I continued past it. I couldn't figure out where the water stop was! After going in circles a few times, I was getting very frustrated. There was a sign with a map, showing Pike Island. I'd look at the map and try to figure out where I was standing, but there was no "You are here" to help me get my bearings. The sun was over my right shoulder, so I figured I was facing north, and the interpretive center that I was trying to find was also north.

Desperate, I started praying. "God, please send me an angel to show me the way out of here." There's nothing like fear to give you religion. After more searching in vain, I broke down and cried tears of frustration. Stoopid running club! I should have joined Team Salubrious. I should have stayed with my old club. I was out of water by this time, and mad that my training run was full of stops. I had my cell phone, but I didn't know how to tell my husband where to find me. Finally, I saw a couple of women hikers coming across the bridge and I asked them the way out. It involved going across the bridge, then veering to the right. Hmmm. I didn't remember crossing a bridge, but they assured me it was the only way and I figured I'd get my bearings once I got on the road. They even shared some of their water with me. I think they were the angels I prayed for. :-)

As I followed their directions, then headed up a hill, the area looked familiar. Looking back, I saw the water stop! There was no one there, but the water and gatorade bottles were there and inside the plastic bag were cut-up oranges. Oh, boy! Maybe this running club wasn't so bad after all.

At the interpretive center, I used the bathroom and washed the grit off my face. Refreshed, I ran to where I thought the bridge was supposed to be. Argggh! there was only a freeway frontage road. Screw it; I headed back to the club the same way I came. It was longer but at least I knew where I was.

My knee started hurting at around mile 12, probably because of dehydration. It was 11:30 by this point; 3.5 hours to go only 12 miles! I wanted to run 16, in order to feel confident for the marathon. I tried to run strong, but it was pathetic. When I got to the turnoff for the club, I kept going because my mileage was only at around 14. I ran until I got to 15, then turned around. As soon as I hit 16, I turned off the watch and walked the rest of the way.

After stretching and showering, I went to get some food. As I was sittng at the table, I looked at the map I had picked up at the interpretive center. It was so obvious! Pike Island only had one entrance, which was that little bridge that I didn't remember crossing. I thought the water stop was on the island, but it wasn't. The interpetive center that was north of me when I was looking at the signpost was north, but I had to go south to cross the bridge first.

It wasn't the best workout, but that was my last long run until the marathon. I'm so glad.

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By the Shores of Gitche Gumee

By the shining big sea water

The rain that was predicted for Saturday didn't materialize. There was some light drizzling but that only lasted a few minutes. The temperature was supposed to be low 40s, and cloudy, instead it was sunny and warm. I planned to wear a long sleeved top and tights, but fortunately I had a pair of shorts and short-sleeved top as a backup, because that's what I ran in, along with a new vest that I bought on Friday for half-price at the Running Room.

This running retreat included all the LTF clubs, so there was a lot of diversity among the runners. And yet, I still ran alone because EVERYBODY was faster than me. And younger. Where are all the 50+ female maratoners? Oh well. The good thing about running alone is that I focus on my running, which is good practice for the race. The bad part, besides the loneliness, is that I don't push myself. Well, this was long, slow, distance and I ran/walked for 9/1.

We were shuttled from our hotel to the starting line, 22 miles north of the inn. Some people were running 22 miles, but those of us running 20 were dropped off at the two mile mark. The course runs along the old Highway 61, of Bob Dylan fame. It's heavily canted, so we were cautioned to run on the right side of the road for about a half-mile every so often, to give our left legs a break. The road wasn't heavily traveled, so that was easy to do.

The highway hugs the shore of Lake Superior and the view was spectacular. Very rustic and wooded. The bad part is that there aren't a lot of businesses open at that hour, which means of course, no bathrooms. Not even any satellites. I certainly couldn't hold it for five hours, so I did what the animals do--I peed in the woods. That was a first for me. My mother would be so proud--not!

Peeing in the woods is kind of interesting. As I squatted on pine needles, I noticed the scent of the pine trees. The second time, I could hear the soothing sound of the lake lapping against the shore. As I wandered into the trees I worried about poison oak because I don't have a clue what it looks like. Fortunately, I didn't encounter any. But my headphones got tangled in the tree branches.

The group had a water stop every three miles, which was nice. I carried my own water bottle, but it only holds 20 ounces, so I was able to refill at the stops. And I brought Ultima packets, so that I could mix my own sport drink. This run was a dress rehearsal for the marathon, so I wanted to emulate the race as much as possible.

Normally, I don't listen to my iPod when I'm on the road, but five hours of running alone is too much. I made a playlist of high-energy songs that would stimulate me to run, and it was a pretty eclectic list. There was 60s rock, some Motown, and 70s pop. I never expected to be running to the Pointer Sisters, but you can really move to the "Neutron Dance." I'll have to burn some Oingo Boingo--I think "Sweat" would be a great song to run to.

Occasionally a running coach from the club would drive by and check on me. The final water stop was at a park just off the highway. It seemed like forever between the time the coach told me to look for it to when I actually got there. I was afraid the water stop person would get tired of waiting and leave, but as I turned in, there she was. I was so grateful! And there was an honest-to-goodness port-a-potty! Yay! No more squatting in the trees.

The Grandma's course is pretty flat, but at mile 22 (the last mile for my Saturday run) is Lemon Drop Hill, named for the defunct Lemon Drop motel that used to be there. I was pretty spent as I was approaching it. In fact, the alarm signalling the end of my walking break went off and I couldn't bring myself to start running. Right then Springsteen's "Born to Run" started to play. What else could I do? I ran up the hill and "through it" to the flat part. It wasn't even that hard. Final mileage: 20.79. So close to 21, but I didn't care. I was ready to stop. Final time was 4:57:41, average pace 14:19 per mile. Not fast enough to finish in 6 hours. Hopefully, I'll be faster come race day.

The Things We Do To Run

Congratulations to Liam, who just finished the Prague Marathon. That Irishman gets around! He wrote a great race report.

I'm off to Duluth to run 20 miles along the Grandma's course. It's supposed to rain for the first 4 hours. :-(

I'd Rather Be Doing LSD

Rain was predicted for last Saturday, so I dressed to run long in wet weather. The group was supposed to run 14 miles, to recover from last week's 18 mile run. Since I raced a half-marathon instead, I thought I should do 16 miles this time.

I ran two miles before the group went out, then went back to meet them to find out where they were running and where the water stops would be. Good thing I did, because A., a woman I've run with before, was there so we started out together. She's not training for Grandma's so only planned to run 8-10 miles. It was nice to have company and she doesn't push the pace. For long runs I believe in Long Slow Distance and run even slower than my usual snail's pace.

At 6 miles was a rec center, (read bathroom) so we stopped there, then A. headed back to the club and I continued to Lake Harriet, which got me to 7 miles. The rain never materialized, but it was windy at the lake. For most of the run I was on a parkway, and the trees sheltered me from the wind. At around mile 9, I passed two guys running the other direction. One of them looked familiar, and I'm pretty sure it was Chris Carr from our local paper. He's training for Grandma's, his first marathon, and keeps a blog on his employer's website. I've never met him, but his picture is on the site. I didn't introduce myself for various reasons, but I read on his blog that he ran 16 miles that day too.

After my brush with celebrity, I continued on and tried not to think about how far I had left to go. I got to the water stop and topped off my water bottle with sport drink and chowed down some Lifesaver fruit candies. Heh, I took the red ones.


The sun came out at some point and I kept marvelling at the beautiful Spring landscape. Minnehaha Creek was running beside me and there were ducks and flowers. The battery on the CrapCam was low or I would have taken more pictures. I was so overwhelmed by the beauty that at one point I asked myself, "What are you, on drugs?" (Come on, I know you talk to yourself when you're alone. ...Er, don't you?) Like Itchycoo Park, it was all too beautiful. A runner's high.

There are many clubs out training for Grandma's and I passed the MDRA water stop. That's the Minnesota Distance Runners Assoc. and they offer marathon training classes. They had a bumper sticker on their water jugs that said, "I'd rather be Fartleking." That's when I came up with the title for this post.

My legs were still sore the next morning when I had to meet my friends for the Race for the Cure. The name's a misnomer, because with 52,000 people you don't race. There's a 5K run at 8 a.m. and then a 5K walk a 9. I always do the walk, because I do it with non-running friends. When I first did the Race for the Cure, I signed up for the 1 mile family walk, and I wasn't too sure that I could walk that far without stopping. That was around 1997 or '98. It was actually easy, so I signed up for the 5K the following year, and I've been doing them ever since. They hold it here every Mother's Day and it's very emotional. The women in pink are survivors and everywhere you see signs in support of, or in memory of, somebody's wife, aunt, mother, grandmother, friend. For myself, I know three woman close to me that died of breast cancer and two survivors. One of the reasons I run is so that I can hopefully stay healthy enough to not become another statistic.

This weekend we're scheduled for 20 miles! We'll be running on the Grandma's course, so that we can become familiar with it.

Friday Funny Falls Flat

OK, so my husband told me that he didn't get the previous post. And judging from the deafening silence, none of you did either. See, a palindrome is a word, number, or sentence that reads the same forwards and backwards. An example is the name Eve. I thought it would be funny to have a phony interview with elite athletes, and all their responses would be a palindrome. Apparently, I'm the only one who finds that funny.

Sigh. It reminds me of the guy who was sent to prison. On his first day, someone yelled out, "72" and all the other prisoners laughed. Then another inmate yelled out, "12" and again all the other prisoners laughed. The new guy asked his cellmate what that was all about. The cellmate explained that everyone's been in prison for so long, they've all heard the jokes so to save time they would just yell out the number corresponding to the joke. The next day at dinner, someone yells out, "25" and everyone laughs. Then the new guy yells out, "32". The mess hall is silent. The new guy asked his cell mate why nobody laughed when he called out the number. His cellmate shrugged and said, "Well, some people just can't tell a joke."

Meet the Elites

National Network News correspondent Anna Level interviews top athletes following the Palindrome 10K.

NNN: Hello! What is your name?
Hannah
NNN: And your last name?
Renner

NNN: I notice you’re wearing shoes by Nike, Hannah. Did you get a sponsorship from them?
HR: Did I? I did.

NNN: You appear to be very fit. How much do you weigh?
HR: 101

NNN: Skinny-Minny. What person most inspires you?
HR: Mom

NNN: That’s sweet. Who is your coach?
HR: Levin Snivel

NNN: How do you and your coach see things?
HR: Eye 2 eye.

NNN: Who could ask for anything more. I noticed that one of your competitors stumbled. What happened?
HR: Dee saw a seed.

NNN: Oh. You’re very focused when you run. What were you thinking as you approached the finish line?
HR: Nail Lillian

NNN: And nail her you did. What was your average pace?
HR: 5:05

NNN: Not bad. How did your teammates do?
HR: Nina Ricci ran in.

NNN: Good for her! What is your favorite post-race food?
HR: I prefer pi.

NNN: I make a mean Lemon Meringue my own self. What advice do you have for other runners?
HR: Live not on evil.

NNN: Well said. May I take your picture?
HR: Oh, cameras are macho.

NNN: Very well. Thank you for taking the time to talk with us, Hannah. Let’s move on now to this young man. What is your name, sir?
Madam, I’m Adam.

NNN: How old are you, Adam?
A: 22

NNN: I saw you say something to the runner who was drafting behind you. What was it?
A: Evade me, Dave.

NNN: That’s telling him. What were you hoping to achieve in this race?
A: Top spot.

NNN: Hmmm. Tell us how you feel about placing second?
A: Dammit I’m mad.

NNN: Yes, I can see that. What was your finish time?
A: 30:03

NNN: Your team mate failed to finish. To what do you attribute this?
A: Poor Dan is in a droop.

NNN: Let’s hope he snaps out of it soon. You yourself seem awfully quiet. What’s wrong?
A: Too hot to hoot.

NNN: Who is your coach?
A: Sydney Yendys

NNN: I’ve heard of him. Well-respected. What do you do to cross-train?
A: Kayak

NNN: And how did you carbo-load before the race?
A: Stressed I desserts.

NNN: Prefer I chocolate my own self. Do you have any advice for other runners?
A: Step on no pets.

NNN: Words to live by. May I offer you a Cohiba to celebrate your finish?
A: Cigar? Toss it in a can. It is so tragic.

NNN: Not as tragic as this interview. Thank you for your time, Hannah and Adam. And congratulations on your race.

This is Anna Level at the Palindrome 10K for National Network News.

Strong to the Finish

We couldn't have asked for a better day: blue skies, light wind, no bugs. With temperatures in the low 50s, it was perfect race weather. Today was the Wells Fargo Lake Minnetonka Half-Marathon, which starts at the Wells Fargo Bank in Wayzata and ends at the Wells Fargo Bank in neighboring Excelsior. Two towns on the shores of Lake Minnetonka, one of the largest lakes in the metro area. Minnetonka is an Indian name; Minne means water and Tonka means effing big. It's a beautiful lake and a beautiful course.

AmyBee ran with me, although she was nervous about it since she hadn't been training. Gun-time was 8 a.m. and we arrived twenty minutes prior to pick up our race number and go to the bathroom. Long lines drove AmyBee to the woods, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I was still in the queue by the time she returned, but we managed to get to the starting line on time.

This was the first time I ran in this race, but AmyBee had run it before. She told me it was a fast field and that in the past she was quickly left behind. Since she's faster than me, that really worried me. The time limit was 2:45, so there was no room for straggling. If we could run a 12 mm pace, we'd be able to finish on time. AmyBee parked her car at the finish line and I drove her to the start so that we would have a ride back to Wayzata in case we missed the bus. The gun went off and we were behind in no time. I could hear the familiar sound of an engine, which I assumed was the pace bus. Crap. I was tempted to run faster to get away from it, but kept to my plan. No sense in tiring out within the first mile. Fortunately, we turned off onto a narrow road and the "pace bus", which was actually a fire truck staffed with 5 firefighters, stayed on the main road. They caught up with us later.

Someone had told me that this race was hilly, which had me baffled because Highway's 15 and 19, which hug the lakeshore, are flat. But we didn't run on Hwy. 15, we ran in a neighborhood on a road parallel to 15 and it was hilly. As if running 13.1 miles at 5 miles an hour isn't challenging enough; we have to throw in some hills. The walking breaks helped--we'd run 9 minutes and walk 1.

Still, the miles went fast. I know AmyBee from my old running club and I've always liked her but we never really got to talk much to each other. So we self-disclosed along the way and discovered that we have much in common.

At mile 6, eagle-eye AmyBee spotted a couple of port-a-potty's and we dashed over to them. How do you spell relief? B-I-F-F-Y. Good thing we stopped, because the next one wasn't for another 4 miles, and I wouldn't have been able to "hold it" until then.

Although I had the CrapCam with me, I didn't want to stop to take pictures because of the time limit. But at one point we ran on a road that was flanked by marshland. Someone had made a sign to protect the wildlife and I took a picture of it with AmyBee posing alongside. Can you read the sign? It says "Caution. Slow Turtles."



By mile 8 my legs were starting to fatigue, which had me baffled until I remembered that I was running about two minutes per mile faster than I normally do on a long run. Plus, yesterday when my running group was running 18 miles, I was told to run 3 miles, since I would be racing today. Three did not sound like enough, since I had skipped a run this week, so I cleverly ran 5 instead, with the second and third mile at 12 mm to get an idea of what that pace would feel like. Then I did three sets of squats because I was feeling so good, which made for soreness this morning.

We came to a water stop and I refilled my water bottle and poured a packet of Ultima into it. Ultima is the sport drink they're using at Grandma's, so I want to start getting used to it. I lost a little time doing that, and AmyBee kept on going, but I was able to catch up to her when she took a walking break.

After a while AmyBee needed to walk and told me to go on. Since she wasn't in pain and there were other runners around, I did. I know if I'm tired and people insist on staying near I feel pressured to run faster and I didn't want to stress her out. But if she had been hurt I wouldn't have left.

There's not much to report on the balance of the race. There was a hill to climb and I swore at it as I approached but I made it up with ease. I ate a gel at 1 hour, then 50 minutes later, which helped. I didn't experience any muscle cramps and I think that was because of the sport drink.

The final stretch was on a crushed limestone trail, which my legs appreciated. Although I know Excelsior, I wasn't really sure where I was, but I kept my eye on the big, blue water tower. Then I could see the finish line, and while I didn't sprint, I did finish strong. Stopping the Garmin the moment I crossed the finish line (there was no ChampionChip for this race), I looked at my time--2:40:48. Holey Moley! Then I remembered that my Garmin is set for autopause, so I checked and it showed a rest time of 2:40. That would be the bathroom break and water bottle fill. But 2:43:18 is still the fastest I've ever run a half-M. Last August I ran one in 2:47:53 and the year before that my time was 2:48:22. My training appears to be paying off.

I waited at the finish line for AmyBee and she came in shortly behind me. I took her picture as she crossed the finish line, but unfortunately I forgot to save it. I was pretty tired and not thinking clearly, but I'm disappointed that I didn't get the pix. I was going to send it to her so she could have it for her race report.

My splits ranged from 11:41 to 12:32, with mile 10 recording 13:03, but I think that's where I filled my water bottle. Average pace was 12:09, so pretty much right on plan. I couldn't do that pace for a full marathon, but hopefully I can do a consistent 13 mm. Six more Saturday's until Grandma's!

A series of coincidences

A funny thing happened at the TC 1 Mile last week. While I was at the starting area, searching for my friends, someone called my name. It turned out to be Elle, a young woman I met one Saturday back in March when I met the Team Salubrious people. I was running alone, because everyone in my running group was faster than me, when Elle and her group came by and let me tag along. I was surprised that she recognized me, and shocked that she remembered my name. Ah, the memory of youth. We chatted a little and wished each other well. She was running in the 30-39 age group wave.

When I was done with my race, the 40-49 wave ran, followed by the 30-39 (that pattern continued until it was the elite's turn to race). So as I was walking down the Nicollet Mall towards Peavey Plaza to get the free post-race pizza, I saw Elle running and cheered her on. Later I saw her in the pizza line as I was eating my slice. Then I did a double-take. She was wearing a shirt with the name of the company that my husband works at. I walked up to her and asked why she was wearing that shirt and she said she works there! She's only been there since last November, but she knows who my husband is. It's a small company.

Not only does she work there, but she works for my former teacher, S., who taught "Writing and Designing for the Web". S. had told her about me and now that I think of it, at the company holiday party back in early February S. pointed out Elle to me and told me that she runs marathons. My middle-aged, too-much-fun-in-the-sixties memory leaves much to be desired. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself to Elle at the party, but I can't believe what a small world it is. I guess we were destined to meet.

Flat and Fast

The course, not me. I'm referring to the TC 1 Mile that I ran tonight, thru Downtown Minneapolis. It was awesome.

I arrived at the starting line about 6:00 p.m. and picked up my race number, Champion Chip, and T-shirt. Not having anyone to hold the shirt while I raced, I jogged to where I parked the car and dropped it off. Then I jogged back. That was my warm-up.

Big M and MMMDI, from my old running club, were running in the first wave and we hugged and chatted while they waited for the start. MMMDI's husband and her friend N were also running the first wave. Big M and I trained for the Twin Cities Marathon together and she taught me how to swear at hills. She finished the marathon, her first, in under 5:30.

We listened respectfully as the Medtronic choir sang the national anthem. I never heard the Star Spangled Banner sung by a choir before and it was quite beautiful. Stepping out of the chute, I watched my friends cross the starting line and then got back in the chute for my wave -- the 50 and over group. I chatted with a few fellow runners and then we were off.


My goal was to run this mile in 10 minutes. I thought it was a stretch, but possibly do-able. Then I set my goal to 9:55, so that if I fell short I could still make it in 10 minutes, instead of, say, 10:04. As keyed up as I was, I started out too fast and was quickly out of breath. I tried to slow down and take deep breaths to get my heart rate down, which felt like it was hovering at about 300 bpm. I really wanted to walk so that I could catch my breath, but didn't want to kiss my goal goodbye. So I sucked it up.

The race began at Loring Park, and we ran for about 1/4 mile before turning onto the Nicollet Mall at 14th street, a pedestrian mall through the heart of downtown flanked by restaurants and shops. Although I was too focused on my race to appreciate how cool it was to be running there, I did enjoy the cheering from the al fresco diners. And my friends from the first wave were cheering for me. Somebody yelled out my name, and I waved but didn't turn around to see who it was.

The corner of 8th and Nicollet is significant. That's where Dayton's, now Marshall Fields, has been for years. And on the other side of Nicollet is the IDS Tower, the first skyscraper in Minneapolis. In my mind, that's where the finish should have been. But it was not. As I approached 8th Street, I kept repeating "Just Keep Running" like I did at the end of the TC Marathon. The finish line was another block away and when I saw it, I repeated "Finish Strong".

And I did; I did not have another block left in me. Unofficial time: 9:31, which for me is amazing. The Garmin said .81 miles, but the race is USTF certified so the Garmin is wrong. The results are now online. My official time: 9:25!!! O.M.G. Division place 17/23. I don't even remember passing anybody.

OK, here's the really sick part. As happy as I was with 9:31, there was a little part of me that was thinking 9:30 would have been better because then I could say I ran nine and a half minutes. Just because of that measly one second. But 9:25--no disappointments. :-)

Afterward, I hooked up with my friends and we headed to the marathon sign up tent. MMMDI is turning 50 this year and she's running the TCM to celebrate. Some of her other friends signed up to run with her. Today was the marathon kick-off, and anyone who signed up was guaranteed an entry. The on-line registration doesn't begin until midnight tonight.

The only thing that could make this night sweeter is if I win a guaranteed entry to the TC10.