Marathon #8 recap

Well...that's an underwhelming title for an overwhelming day. Everything else my tired brain came up with was either too cheesy or just plain stupid. So, I'll just call this post what it is:  simply a recap of my 8th marathon.

I've completed 8 marathons. I have to say...I like the sounds of that.  Eight marathons. First, Chicago in October of 2009.  Second, Minneapolis in June of 2010. Third, Quad Cities in September of 2010. Fourth, Quad Cities in September of 2011 (where I earned my PR of 3:49.46). Fifth, Virginia Beach in March of 2012 (my slowest...and most dramatic. I was incredibly sick and actually had passed out on the flight out to VA twice, resulting in an ER visit. I still managed to finish:  in 4:52.01). Sixth, Marine Corps in DC on my 30th birthday in October of 2012.  Seventh, Los Angeles in December of 2012 (on the day after Christmas!). 

And....eighth....today. 

Here I am at the finish...rather proud, I must say. 

....let's back up a bit, though. It was a long road to the finish this morning, both physically and mentally. 

I toyed with the idea of running one of the events in the inaugural Run River City event in Peoria since last fall when I heard it was scheduled. I was quite excited about a local marathon and was thrilled that Running Central, my favorite fabulous central IL running store, was sponsoring a team for the event to run to raise money and awareness for Easter Seals.  I felt strongly about supporting an exciting new event in my area...supporting Running Central...and of course, about supporting Easter Seals. Those who know me know that Easter Seals, an organization that provides pediatric outpatient rehabilitation services for children with disabilities, has been near and dear to my heart since 2007 when I moved to this area. So, for me, participation in the Run River City event would be a win-win-win. 

There were 5k, 25k, marathon and marathon relay options. I actually planned a number of weeks ago to run the relay. Long story short, my team fell apart. Next, I considered the idea of running the 25k (15.5 miles). I had never run a 25k race before...could be cool to add another race distance to my list. This week, however, I started thinking about just going for the full. Really...what's ~11 more miles?! ;-)

My coach, Laura, caught wind of my tentative plans and strongly encouraged me to NOT do the full. In fact, in my Training Peaks schedule she specifically wrote in a long run...of NO MORE THAN 13-16 miles for today. My left foot has given me some grief the past few months. Additionally, I hadn't run further than 13.1 miles since my marathon in December.  I really, really should listen to her.  Sometimes...I just get...stubborn.

Yesterday afternoon, I drove over to the Caterpillar welcome center in downtown Peoria. I walked up to the registration table and told the young man at the computer that I would like to register for the event. He asked me what distance...and I hesitated before responding "well I don't know. The full I guess."  He looked at me as if I was kinda crazy and said, "uh, it's YOUR decision!"  I'm sure he was thinking something along the lines of, "what kind of nut job walks up to a race registration not knowing what distance to register for?  Don't they consider training?!"  I repeated myself, more confidently this time, "yes. I know. I want to sign up for the full please!"

I secured my number and shirt, then checked out the Running Central tent where I scored a new pair of my favorite New Balance shoes (that I've used for about a year) for about half price on sale! Sa-weeet!!

After a dinner of GF pasta and lots of water, I hit the sack.  This morning, I climbed out of bed at the last possible minute (as is my typical style) and got ready for the race. I got to the race site around 6:40 for the 7am start (cutting it a bit close!!), scored a stellar parking spot along the road, visited a porta potty and made it to the start with time to spare. 

Number 70...ready to rock this thing!!

Wheelchair athletes lining up...many were wearing red "Team Believe" shirts for Easter Seals...pretty great. 

The following two photos I found on the Peoria Journal Star website:

(I'm in the left part of the pic above, with my head turned and a white visor on. In other news...I'm totally jealous of the abs on the chick in front of me!!)

AND THEY'RE OFF!!!

(I'm in the right side of the pic...white visor.  I love this picture!)

Things felt great...mile 1 was done and over before I even felt warmed up.  I completed mile 1 in 7:47.  Adrenaline ALLLLLWAYS gets me and I start off more quickly than I should.  Miles 2 and 3 were at a much more manageable (for me) pace of 8:15 and 8:16, respectively.  After that...I just wasn't feeling it.  I started to slow down.  It didn't take me long at all today to see that a 3:35 finish (my age group's Boston Qualifying (or BQ) time) just isn't in my capabilities...yet.  Miles 4 and 5 were slower yet...8:35 and 8:45.  I picked it up a bit for Mile 6...8:37...and Mile 7...8:26.  Mile 8 ventured into the 9-minute-mile territory with a 9:01 mile.  Miles 9-13 were all right around the 9 minute-mile pace.  Mile 14 slowed a bit to 9:15.  Miles 15-20 were all between 9-9:25. 

At mile 19 I started doubting myself and started wondering if maybe I was a complete idiot for running today...when I was explicitly advised not to.  Plus it was hot...and I was getting tired.  At each and every water stop (there were around 20, which was fabulous!!) I took two cups...one to dump over my head and one to drink.  Additionally, a few kind people were handing out cups of ice cubes in their yards!  These ice cubes felt like small pieces of heaven today.  Some went in my mouth...others went on my head...some were rubbed on my cheeks...and two went down the back of my shirt.  Ahhhhh!!!!

As I fought through mile 19-20, I told myself that when I got to mile 20 I would allow myself a short walking break.  I hadn't walked at all at that point and rationalized that a 20 mile non-stop running workout was, if nothing else, a great workout.  As soon as my watch beeped on that 20th mile, I stopped running and began to walk.  As anyone who has made it through elementary science knows...an object in motion tends to stay in motion and an object at rest tends to stay at rest unless it is acted upon by an outside force.  Likewise, an object walking or running at a slow pace sometimes requires an outside force to act upon it to get it moving again.

Around mile 21, my outside force came in the shape of a sweet "random stranger" (as we later called one another).  She ran up beside my right side and said something to me.  I had to take out my ear buds to hear her; she was offering up kind words of encouragement to spur me onward in my race.  I smiled at her and we started running together.

We exchanged some pleasantries, talked about the course...the heat...our aching bodies...and then she began to open up to me.  Turned out, she had just run in the Boston Marathon one month ago.  She shared that she was running today as a way to emotionally heal from that day.  I won't write about all the details of what she shared with me, because I don't feel it is my story to share.  One thing she did say to me that especially resonated within me, though, was "I have been dealing with survivors' guilt."  She went on to say that she didn't understand why it was that she was able to escape that day, bearing nothing more than the emotional scars, while others fared much worse.  As we fought through those final miles together, there were times she became caught up in her emotions and I had to wipe a few involuntary tears from my own cheeks. 

As we neared mile 23, we saw a fellow runner begin to stumble.  A few of us started shouting for help and two strong men ran up to the struggling runner and caught him before he could fall.  I will never forget looking in his eyes in that moment...they were rolling around in their sockets and his body seemed to be flailing uncontrollably.  What happened to me next is somewhat embarrassing to admit.  I started panicking...or hyperventilating...or something.  Honestly, I'm not really sure what was going on with my body.  A combination of the physical stress of the race and the heat and the emotional conversation I had been having with my new friend, on top of seeing the pain and struggle of a fellow runner...it all got to me.  I started breathing crazily and was horrified by the gasping sound coming out of my body.  I couldn't take deep breaths, which made me panic more, and I continued to gasp.  I felt my lungs inside my chest expanding as if they were going to push out of my ribs.  I couldn't stop tears from coming out of my eyes.  After what felt like an eternity...but was likely only a minute or two...I was able to talk myself down and get myself under control.

After being assured by others that the struggling runner would be taken care of, we continued on our way...together we pushed onward.  Our final miles were a run-walk combination.  A few times, my new friend needed to stop to throw up (by this point, the throwing up was dry heaves, as her poor stomach and body were completely empty).  Each time she urged me to leave her and go on...but I couldn't do it.  A few times, a selfish part of me was a bit tempted (just offering up complete honesty!) to continue on and just wait for her at the finish...but there was just NO way I could rationalize leaving her.  She had picked me up when I was about ready to give in between miles 20-21, the least I could do was to finish up the race with her.

As we neared the finish line, the reality of crossing a marathon finish line began setting in for her.  We talked about how today was completely different than April 15 and that what had happened there in Boston on that terrible day was not going to be happening today.  With about three tenths of a mile to go, I glanced down at my watch.  "4:07" shown back at me.  In a split second I realized that we would likely be crossing the finish line at 4:09.  4:09...when the explosion occurred at the finish line in Boston. 

We picked up our pace and ran toward the finish line stronger than we had run in the past 6 miles.  When the finish line came into view, it became clear that we would indeed be running under it within the 4:09 mark.  I didn't say anything to her as we finished, nor did I say anything after we finished.  However, I am sure she realized what was happening.

We crossed the finish line together at 04:09:30.  Two were absolutely stronger than one.

We exchanged some sweaty hugs after being presented with our medals.  We then parted ways.  I have a feeling, though, that our race together today won't be the last we see of each other.

Today was a day I will truly never forget.  It wasn't my fastest marathon...and it wasn't my slowest.  It was hard-fought, though, and a great day of training.  Most importantly, though, it taught me that there are things far more important than PRs and BQ times.  Kindness, compassion and companionship...to name a few.

Wrapping up with a few final tidbits from the day....

This vehicle cracked me up..."nuisance abatement vehicle"?!  It was parked on part of the course (I took the photo after I was done).

Here's a breakdown of my splits!  As you can see, I did the exact OPPOSITE of what one SHOULD do in a race...run "negative splits" (getting gradually faster). Instead...my pace dropped significantly throughout the race. But....I'm ok with that. And I truly mean it. Like I said, today's race showed me that there are things far more important than PRs and even BQ times...not that I'm giving up on my quest for those things!  That will just be for another day :-).

Each of my marathons is memorable, for one or more reasons. Chicago...my first. Quad Cities...my PR. Marine Corps...my 30th birthday (and hurricane Sandy!). Peoria...because it was a tangible lesson for me in what's really important in life. 

I'm truly grateful that I had the experiences that I did today. The soreness in my joints and muscles will (hopefully!) fade this week. My sun-burnt shoulders and arms will sting less. But, I really hope that I never forget the way crossing that finish line side by side with my new friend felt. The kindness of a stranger taught me about strength today in a way nothing has before.  To whom much is given, much will be required. I have this life, these legs that carry me (regardless of if they are as thin as I may like or as fast as I would desire!), and the heart that beats strongly within my chest. I know today more than ever that I have the responsibility to share my gifts and kindness with those I come into contact with.  Thank you to sweet J for an unforgettable run!

Looking forward to many more adventures,

Rachel Lynn

A Weekend of Firsts

The past few years, and the past year in particular, I've experienced a number of racing-and-training-related "firsts".  For fun, here are a few...

First half marathon (April 2009)
First full marathon (October 2009)
First time seeing a PT and orthopedic physician for Achilles tendinitis, resulting in 2 months of NO RUNNING aside from "pool jogging" (October 2009)
First time getting top female in an event (a SMALL 5k in April 2011)
First stress fracture (April 2011)
First time swimming in open water AND in a wetsuit (May 2011)
First triathlon (May 2011)
First time using clips on my bike (August 2011)
First yoga class (September 2011)
First century ride (October 2011)
First time actually getting fitted for running shoes by someone who knew what they were talking about (March 2012)
First time purchasing and riding a shiny new Trek carbon road bike (May 2012)
First time witnessing someone (my father) falling off of a bike, necessitating an ER visit, resulting in recurring mental anguish (May 2012)
First Olympic tri (June 2012)
First half Ironman (September 2012)
First experience with chafing so severe I had to resort to Desitin (September 2012)
First experience working with a tri coach (November 2012)
First time using aero bars (March 2013)
First time getting stuck in my pedals and falling off of my bike...twice for good measure (April 2013)


The weekend of May 3-5, I added some more "firsts" to my growing list:

First time participating in a Rev3 event (AWESOME!)
First time visiting Knoxville, Tennessee
First time participating in a relay triathlon (or any sort of relay race, for that matter!)
First time swimming in the Tennessee River
First time swimming in open water during the 2013 season
First time placing in a 70.3 relay!

My awesome coach, Laura, extended an invitation to complete a 70.3 relay with her at Rev3 Knoxville to myself and Steve, another athlete she coaches.  I was hesitant (the two of them, Laura in particular, are MUCH more adept triathletes than I am!)...but am glad I agreed to go.  It was a BLAST...and a fabulous learning and training opportunity.

Aaaaand...we got third in the relay category of the race!  I completed the swim portion, Laura did the bike and Steve ran.  It was a NASTY weekend, weather-wise.  I don't think it stopped raining the ENTIRE time we were in Knoxville!  Clearly it didn't affect me in the swim (c'mon...water is water), but the bike and run portions of the race had to be just miserable (Laura and Steve are champions!!).  I will say, though, the swim was a challenge in its own right...the water was about 58 degrees!  It was so stinking cold!!  I was grateful for my wetsuit....and for the thermal swim cap Laura lent me!

This race definitely got me pumped up for triathlon season...AND it made me eager to try out more Rev3 events!




Team Epic Endurance...with our SWEET Rev3 Knoxville finishers' medals AND third place medals!



NOT very excited about the cold  water...this was taken the day before the event; we were allowed to practice on the course.



Pretending to be stoked



Thinking about going in...



I look pretty happy...I was probably simply delirious from the cold



Pretending to know what I'm doing

The perfect distance

The past few weeks have shown me that the half marathon, 13.1 miles, is my perfect distance. 

As I was explaining to a friend recently...I've realized that 5k's just aren't for me.  In my opinion, in general they seem to be for
a) new runners who need an easily attainable distance to train for,
b) casual runners satisfied with the respectable distance of 3+ miles who don't necessarily have the desire to do longer races, or
c) super fast runners who can be absolutely speedy at a short distance and bring in 3 consecutive ~6 minute-miles. 

Let me be clear...I am NOT poo-pooing at 5ks (in fact, I am particularly impressed with those who fall into category (c)!  My body was just NOT made to go fast.  Or, if it was, I can't seem to make it do that.  I hate hurting too darn much!!)...simply saying they aren't MY "best fit race."  Since they aren't a great fit for me...unless there's something super special about the event...I just can't justify paying $$$ to register to run a 5k.

Marathons are still my true "loves"...but there are too many variables with a marathon.  They are just too long...and there's too much time for pain/injuries/nutrition issues/GI distress.  Half marathons...for me anyway....are simply perfect.

Exhibit A:
My first race of this season was Saturday, April 27th.  My dear sister Megan and I registered for this race together.  It was to be Megan's first race post-baby!  Macy, my adorable niece, was just five months old at the time of this race.  I am VERY proud of my sister for putting forth all of the extra effort needed to train for a half marathon after giving birth and while caring for an infant!  Megan, as I've written about many times, is who spurred me on to running years ago.  I was more than happy to be able to support her in her first race "back" after baby!

In the weeks leading up to the race I couldn't quite decide how I wanted to treat the race.  I had earned my half marathon PR at the U of I half marathon the previous year (1:48:20).  Part of me thought that perhaps a faster PR could be in the cards for me at this year's event.  But, an even larger part of me thought that this was probably a lofty goal.  I had not been running much in the weeks leading up to the event.  The longest run I'd completed in April prior to that weekend was a 7 mile run on Sunday, April 14.  My left foot had been bothering me for about a month...I'd received a tentative diagnosis of Morton's Neuroma from two different physical therapists and had subsequently been taking it "easy", mostly swimming and biking.

Even in spite of the foot pain, I had no doubt that I'd still be able to at least finish the race.  I toyed with the idea of running alongside Megan for the entire race for support.  I probably SHOULD have been a good sister and run with her :).

But...on race morning, I felt great.  The weather was cool...the rain that had been forecasted was holding off.  My GI system and nutrition felt on track.  All systems appeared to be a "go".  So...I made the decision to go for it.  Selfish...maybe (sorry Meg!! ;))...but I am glad I challenged myself.  It paid off!!  I smashed my former PR, besting it by 1:31, and replaced it with a new one of 1:46.49.  Not too shabby for my first race of the year!  It felt good to know that my training seemed to be paying off!

Even better than my PR, though, was the fact that I felt STRONG throughout the entire race!  My body felt great...the best I've ever felt running in any race, ever!  My foot did start hurting around mile 10, but it wasn't anything unbearable by any means.  It didn't slow me down, and I did my best to force it out of my mind.  After the race, I truly felt on top of the world.



Me with Meg after the U of I Half Marathon

 

Me after the Quad Cities Distance Classic...at my alma mater
**hmmmm...apparently my blue Lulu pullover brings me some half-marathon luck!  I just realized I wore the same top to both events this year!  Ha!!**

Exhibit B: 
My third race of the season (second running event) was this past Sunday...the Quad Cities Distance Classic Half Marathon.  This was my first year participating in this event.  I had been planning to go home to the Quad Cities this past weekend for my niece's dedication at Megan and her husband's church on Mother's Day.  On a whim about two weeks ago, I Googled "Quad Cities races May 12" and noted that the Quad Cities Distance Classic was indeed on that day...and it was on Augustana College's campus!  TOO PERFECT!!

I decided to wait until the morning of the event to decide for certain if I was going to do the event.  If it interfered with family plans...if it was raining...or if I didn't feel well, I would simply not attend.  But...if all of the stars seemed to be aligned...I would go.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I felt great...so I ate a banana and a KIND bar (my pre-race meal of choice!) and set out on my way to Augie's campus.  I found a prime parking spot in the Centennial Hall parking lot and made my way to Carver Hall where the registration and packet pickup was held.  After securing everything I needed to participate, I made my way back to my car where I sat in the warmth for a while...it was a chilly morning!

Right before the start, I made my way out of my car and walked a short distance to the starting line.  The weather was cool, but not freezing.  There was a bit of wind, but it wasn't horrid. 

The race started...and I felt fantastic.  The route started downhill, but soon began a short uphill jaunt.  The course was actually pretty hilly.  The wind added to the challenge for some portions of the race.  As I was running, I felt fantastic.  Actually, until about mile 8 I was envisioning a NEW PR.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least slightly disappointed that I didn't get a PR ;)....my time Sunday fell short of my time two weeks ago at the U of I by a mere TWO seconds!  My official finish time was 1:46.51!  Until the official times were posted later last night, I actually thought there was a chance that my finish time was identical to the finish time at the U of I event.  How funny would that have been?!

I am VERY proud of my pace...8:09 average per mile for the race, which is fantastic for me!  I'm the girl whose comfortable/default pace is 9:30!  As I previously stated, I DON'T like hurting.  I love running...and and can run for hours on end...but would prefer to run slower for longer than faster for a shorter time period.  That said, I am slowly adjusting to the mental game of becoming OK with pain...probably a GOOD thing as the Ironman date only looms closer and closer!

My splits are as follows:

Mile 1:  7:39
Mile 2:  8:04
Mile 3:  7:59
Mile 4:  7:50
Mile 5:  7:23
Mile 6:  8:03
Mile 7:  8:03
Mile 8:  8:07
Mile 9:  8:17
Mile 10: 8:17
Mile 11: 8:19
Mile 12: 8:20
Mile 13: 8:10

Ok...I realize that in an ideal situation, one would run negative splits (or get faster as the race goes on).  My pace was fairly steady (right below 8 min/mile) for 8 miles.  After that I was pretty solidly around 8:20 for the remainder of the race.  BUT...my pace IS much faster than it USED to be.  So, I consider that a big victory for me.

I'm cautiously optimistic about the rest of my 2013 racing season after my two solid (for me!) half marathons!

This next weekend is a new event in the Peoria area...The River City Marathon.  There are the following distances available:  5k, 25k, marathon and marathon relay.  I had tentatively been planning to complete the marathon relay with some friends, but the plans fell through.  I still want to attend the event, but am undecided on distance.  As previously stated, I feel like the 5k would be a waste of $$ (for me)...I've never run a 25k so that could be a fun experience...but part of me wants to just go for the full marathon.  Why not?!  I will probably just wait until Saturday (packet pickup!) to decide.  We'll see...

Boston...thoughts from an ordinary marathoner

I love writing...almost as much as I love running. 

I've loved writing ever since the sixth grade when a likely-too-kind language arts teacher praised a story I'd written.  It is one thing that if I "had more time", I'd love to do more of and expand my skill set in.  I've found writing to be "therapeutic"....whenever I have too many thoughts or worries rattling around in my head, it typically helps me to sort through things a bit if I get the words out in some fashion.  In my younger years, I filled countless journals with musings and dreams.  More recently, I've blogged.  I had a blog in college that I abandoned years ago.  I've had a few in more recent years that I have posted in somewhat sporadically.  I even started a completely anonymous blog on New Year's Day 2012...less than a month after moving out on my own.  In it, I recorded some of the adventures I experienced as a newly (unhappily) single woman living alone for the first time in her entire life.  I haven't written in it for a number of months now because I've forgotten the password (and I've also forgotten the e-mail address I made up to go along with it...whoops!).  However, I still enjoy going back to read my entries sometimes.  My crises make me laugh...and smile when I realize how far I really HAVE come.  But anyway...on to the real point of this post...

Ideas for possible blog posts have been rolling around in my head ever since news of the Boston Marathon bombings arrived to me via text message Monday afternoon, April 15, 2013. This post has remained a "draft" for weeks. Every few days, I'd open it up and delete...write...edit...ponder.

I know writing this is somewhat dangerous...I don't want to appear as if I am trying too hard to make a national catastrophe somehow pertinent to me, because it's not about me.  I wasn't even there. But, I'd be lying if I said it hasn't affected me in some ways. I know I can't be the only "casual" runner who feels the way I do.  Since that awful day, I've toed the starting line of two races. Each time, my mind has wandered to such places as "I wonder what it felt like to be there on that day." I have many more races on my agenda between now and my 2013 A-race (Ironman Wisconsin is in now less than four months!)...and I know I'll carry a bit of those thoughts with me to each one.

On the afternoon of Monday, April 15 I checked my phone in between students' speech therapy sessions. I had a number of text messages, all urging me to check the news...telling me that there had been explosions at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I remember being confused and I can still feel the furrowing of my eyebrows and wrinkling of my forehead as those words danced in front of my eyes. Typing "Boston explosion" into Google immediately brought up a number of frightening news posts.  As I perused the limited and repetitive information available on the Internet at the time, text messages from well-meaning friends continued to roll in...now many were asking me if I happened to be in Boston running.

I remember fighting back involuntary and unwelcome tears a number of times as the day went on. Confusion, fear, disgust, disbelief all coursed through my veins. I checked the Internet for updates in between sessions with students. I certainly conducted sub-par therapy sessions as my head was not fully in the game. My thoughts were in Boston.

4:09. The explosion at the finish line occurred when the timing clock was at four hours and nine minutes. My 7 marathons have roughly averaged that time. Some faster, some slower...but all within that general vicinity. In my head, I imagined a bunch of "me's" crossing the finish at that time. I couldn't stop myself from imagining their fear, pain and confusion.

In the days following that afternoon, I became almost obsessed with reading accounts of runners who were in Boston on that day.  I read blog entries, Facebook posts and news interviews.  I seldom watch the news, heck I rarely even turn ON the television in my apartment. Yet, on the evening of Friday, April 19 I laid on my couch and nervously watched for hours as the live news unfolded:  one of the alleged bombers was captured in his hiding place in a boat in someones back yard before the country's eyes that night.

I remember finally getting off the couch around 10:30 that night and finally getting in a workout.  I climbed onto my bike trainer in my living room for a 90 minute ride, my mind spinning almost as fast as my legs.  The drama and sadness from the week weighed heavy on my head.  I remember feeling guilty, for allowing myself to become so mentally bogged down by all of it when I wasn't even there.  It all seemed very surreal, like a bad dream.

Running, to me, is a gift. I don't expect non-runners to understand, but I know that this sentiment resonates with many runners.  We run for clarity, health, sanity, peace.  We run to feel alive, to feel the comforting discomfort our body feels after miles of pounding.  We run for camaraderie, to strengthen bonds with friends and to forge exciting new relationships.  We run for those who cannot...we run because something in us feels like it truly was made to run.  The events in Boston made me feel as if there was something out there that was trying to take this gift away from everyone who enjoys it.

Runners are some of the most selfless, kind and giving people I've ever encountered.  Runners are accepting and forgiving.  The running community raises money and support for countless organizations in many towns all over the world.  One example in my area:  a member of our local running club hosts an event nearly every month that raises money for a different charity each run.  Many races give money to organizations that fight cancer, autism, child abuse, hunger and other atrocities.  If anyone ever called runners as a group selfish, singularly minded or struck-up, they'd be sorely mistaken.

There have been far too many large-scale human-caused tragedies during my lifetime (ok...just ONE would be too many)....9/11, school shootings, parents going nuts and killing their own children, crazy men kid kidnapping young girls and keeping them locked up for years, shootings in movie theaters, shootings in churches and shopping malls...now bombings at a marathon...the list goes on and on. It's more than enough to make a person wary of going anywhere a large group of people could be present for fear of it being a "target" of some sort of attack. I want nothing more than to be a mother someday...but recently I've had thoughts like "do I really want to bring a child into this evil, sad world?"  Again...I know I am not alone in these kinds of thoughts.

But...I know we can't hole up in our homes. We can't avoid subways and stadiums and theaters and finish lines. And, we can't suppress our dreams.  Dreams like becoming a parent, cycling across the country, climbing Mount Everest, getting our PhD, or completing an Ironman....these dreams and others like them bring so much to our world and we can't give up on them.  Or...at least we shouldn't.  Life is for living, for living to the fullest.  Giving up on ourselves and on our dreams would be a disservice...to ourselves, our families, our friends and to those we would inspire or serve along the path to achieving our dreams. 

I will keep racing, and I will certainly keep running.  I won't be writing messages reminiscent of Boston my shirt or wearing pictures of victims to races.  Those kinds of displays, while poignant when sincere, are not my style.  However, I will carry thoughts of those affected directly by the horrid events with me to each event I participate in and on each run I take.  They will be a reminder to me that this very moment is the only one that we are promised.  Not one of us knows just how long we will be here on this beautiful earth.  We have the responsibility to live genuinely and compassionately, to live out our moments to the fullest. 

I eagerly look forward to the day when I too cross the finish line in Boston.  I have yet to qualify for this race...I've done seven marathons to date and was about 15 minutes shy of qualifying (quite a bit :)) in the race I PR'ed in (September 2012).  I've still got a lot of work to do!  Thoughts of Boston have inspired me long before these events ... since the summer of 2009 when I started training for my first marathon.  The Boston Marathon has been a goal for countless runners for longer than I even know.  I'm confident that the race and the Boston community will only be made stronger after this year.  I have a feeling that there will be many runners, like myself, who are feeling an even stronger fervor to train and qualify.  Together, we will continue to show the world the strength the running community possesses.  We won't give up on ourselves, each other or on our dreams.  And we certainly won't stop running.

Cycling + Wine + Hills + Rain + Friends = EPIC Easter Celebration!

Laura, the awesome triathlon coach I have been working with, and her husband Dan had the great idea to travel in their RV down to southern IL for a training adventure over the Easter weekend...and invited me along (along with some other fun people...other athletes training with Laura's Epic Endurance group!). I was a bit reluctant to commit at first...I'm a wimp when it comes to cold and I wasn't sure if I was ready to get my bike outside yet (it hasn't really gotten warm yet here in the Midwest!). Additionally, I was a little worried about making a fool out of myself; I had just gotten new pedals/shoes and aerobars and hadn't tried out any of those new accoutrements off of the safety of my bike trainer. I thought I needed the opportunity to practice using these items alone prior to using them in front of an audience. Plus...I am a FAR less-than-confident biker and I knew these people were GOOD.  Ok, some are even better than good.  But...because I'm crazy and a weekend adventure in an RV with some pretty fun like-minded people sounded like something I wanted to experience...I decided to give it a go!

We left Friday after everyone got off of work and enjoyed some adult beverages and fun in the RV upon arrival at the campground approximately four hours from our homes. Saturday morning we slept in a bit and rather slowly got our gear together before heading out.  I, for one, was pleased by the slow pace...I am NOT a morning person. Laura had conducted some extensive prior research about the area and had a list of 12 wineries that we planned to bike to...each was along the "Shawnee Hills Wine Trail." It was a lofty quest, but we felt we were up to it.

Four of us initially set out on our bikes while the other two served as our "sag wagon" driver/rider. They led the way in a car with their two bikes on a rack behind it. The first winery was about 15 miles from our campsite. We ended up taking a few wrong turns (which were blamed on Google maps, naturally) but finally arrived at our first stop. Those of us on bikes were eager to get out of the cold and we were ALL excited to sample the grape juice at the first fine establishment.

Me with Kelly...Matchy-Matchy!

We spent a while at our first stop and sampled a variety of tasty drinks. My personal favorite here was a frozen slushy wine drink. Ahhhh-mazing! I announced that this would be a PERFECT post-summer-workout refreshment. One member of our group looked at me with disgust and corrected, "I think it would be delicious WITHOUT working out as well." Whatever.

Boys will be boys...

Our group at our first winery stop

After sufficiently de-classing the place, the first two car-riders switched places with two initial cyclists. The next leg of the ride was less than 10 miles, but was intense! The hills were MUCH more drastic than any we encounter near home!

For me, the downhills continue to be even more of a challenge than the uphills (in absolutely no way am I claiming ascents to be EASY for me...I am simply saying that COMPARED to flying down a hill, worried I shall surely meet my doom, climbing is highly preferable). Steep descents scare the crap outta me! I'm a HUGE pansy. I'd rather fight through a tough climb 3x than encounter a long, steep descent!

During one especially long downhill portion, I heard a loud whirring noise to my back left. Assuming it was a quickly approaching motor vehicle I started to yell "CAR BACK!!" to my compadre ahead...only to realize it was one of our more skilled group members buzzing by me effortlessly. I corrected myself mid-shout..."CAR BA---oh wait, that's David!"  Sighhhh...Must be nice to have skills!!

We arrived at Winery #2 after battling through a nice climb. We ventured inside and learned that this winery served wines that were each made from fruits other than grapes! My particular favorite here was a spiced apple wine...I even ended up purchasing a bottle to bring home (thank goodness for our sag vehicle...we packed that thing full of wine bottles!:-)).

The group (minus me) at the second stop...Dan is rather intense...and apparently David is deep in thought...

The group at Winery #2

The next stop wasn't far at all...around 6 miles or so. As we set off, our group's two best cyclists set off quickly (um, NO, this did NOT include me! ;-)). They were soon out of my sight. We arrived at Winery #3 shortly (two on bikes and two in the car) and noted immediately that our two speed demons were nowhere to be found. The four of us ventured inside and chatted with the people inside, including two cyclists who were apparently from the area...they had lots of advice for us.

After what felt like a long time, we decided that someone should take the car out and look for our wayward friends. Just as we went outside, though, they showed up. Turns out they simply blew by the winery and never noticed the signs. Guess it pays to be slow ;-)...or something like that.

We visited and enjoyed some wine and admired the view out the windows. While it definitely wasn't a "beautiful" day and the trees/vines/grass were still winter-brown, it was easy to picture the grounds a few months later as a gorgeous landscape. I'd like to return in a few months to check it out!

Goofy framed pages from a children's book detailing how wine is made...this was hanging on the wall at Winery #3...please forgive the crappy cell phone photo/glass reflections!

The area cyclists we spoke with at Winery #3 informed us of another establishment not far away that was known for good food. We decided to make that location, Winery #4, our lunch stop.

After wrapping up at #3, we headed out to #4. It was a short ride...around 4 miles. It started raining a bit during this leg of our journey. It wasn't too bad...but it was cold enough to be mildly unpleasant.

We ventured on in to #4 and were rather entertained to note that literally dozens of patrons stared at us as we walked up to the counter to order. Sure, we were a motley crew...what with our helmet-head, wet biking attire and cycling shoes. But come ON. Have you people never seen cyclists before?! Good grief.

We enjoyed a delicious lunch (and some of us partook in additional beverages, naturally) and formulated a plan of action going forward. Well...to be precise, the plan was formulated without me while I was in the bathroom...convenient! ;-)

By the time we got our food, it was already after four pm. Sunset was projected for 7:18. Some wineries closed at 5:00. It was raining. We were all pretty cold. These factors all pointed toward the reasonable conclusion of wrapping up our adventure and making our way back to the RV for the evening.

The bike rack behind our sag vehicle could only hold 3 bikes at the most...so even if we crammed all six of our wet, smelly, sweaty bodies into the car, we'd still have to leave 3 bikes behind. Seeing as those are quite the investments...that option was never on the table.

The only option was for three people to return to the campsite with three bikes and leave the other three behind. It was determined that the three left behind would continue on cycling to the next winery and wait there for someone to return with the rescue vehicle. Oddly enough...it was decided that the three people leaving would be the three males and the three people staying (and cycling in the rain) would be the three females. Interesting...

So...three brave, strong, beastly women departed the safety of the warm, dry winery and set out for Winery #5. We pedaled up and down the wet hills and braved the pelting rain that stung our faces as we ventured onward. Somehow...we managed to arrive safely, chilled to the frail bones.

Kelly's and my bikes...safely under a shelter outside Winery #5 post-rainy-ride



Laura...our fearless EPIC leader!

After a great day..ready for warmth and relaxation!  Look closely and check out the sweet old bike
in the window behind me...

We went inside and sampled a number of wines before settling on choices for a glass or two each. We also shared a yummy chocolate bar as we awaited our rescuer.

We may or may not have seen him arrive after an hour+ of waiting, shivering around our glasses at the winery. We may or may not have, through the window, noticed him loading up our three bikes on the rack...in the pouring rain. We probably didn't discuss helping and definitely didn't decide to simply pretend we didn't see him...nope.

:-)

However, we were all quite grateful to have a warm, dry ride back to the RV and even more grateful for a ride to the shower house for HOT showers at the campground. The rest of the night we ate...drank...laughed...dozed off...and played gluten free beer pong. Ha!

It was a great weekend...full of friends and cycling. I always enjoy running and/or biking in new locales. In spite of the cold and rain, I really enjoyed riding on the wine trail. It was a blast! And it was definitely a legitimate workout. I was the only one of our group who biked the entire distance...so I was proud of that fact ;-). I'm not fast, but I'm determined (or something like that ;-)). Aaaand...I handled the new pedals/shoes and aerobars without falling off or doing anything terribly stupid! I still feel like a poser...but I'm learning the ways of "real" cyclists gradually!

I'm looking forward to many more training adventures as things heat up this spring and summer!

We were quite entertained by this tepee at the campground across from our RV

Bike-funk

Last Friday I had the privilege of having a bike fit done at a fabulous local cycling store, Bloomington Cycle and Fitness. Ever since the end of last season, I had planned on getting aerobars installed on my road bike sometime this winter. I wanted to have some opportunities to try them out on the trainer prior to taking them out on the road. I put it off for much of the winter for a variety of reasons, namely laziness.

I finally got around to getting up to Bushwhacker in Peoria to purchase the aerobars earlier last week. I had a gift certificate I wanted to use, which is why I purchased them from a shop out of town. In addition to the aerobars, I purchased some new pedals and shoes. Aesthetically, in my opinion, the shoes are quite cute (as cute as cycling shoes could be anyway ;-)). Additionally, they are significantly better than my previous pair. What I had were definitely functional, but they were also quite large and clunky...they were a "walkable" cycle shoe. Plus, they were black and purple! The new ones are white and celeste...and match my bike perfectly. **"celeste" is the technical name of the kind of odd blue-green of my bike. I love it! One of the BCF guys taught me that when I dropped my bike off**. The new pedals are "road" pedals...and the new shoes have carbon soles and are quite narrow and sleek. They feel great on my feet!

I was very excited to work with Scott at BCF for my bike fit. He was patient, kind and very obviously knowledgable. It was neat to hear him talk about his profession as well; he has a clear passion for biking and helping cyclists, new and experienced alike, enjoy the sport and become better at it as well.

Scott spent a long time studying me as I pedaled and soon began making adjustments. I had absolutely NO idea just how many tiny adjustments could be made to a bike. Each adjustment he made, though, made noticeable changes in my comfort, posture and/or pedaling efficiency. I had a lot of fun during the fit; I found the process fascinating!

I was surprised by how comfortable I felt in the aero position (albeit in a stationary position on a trainer!). I had never ridden with aerobars prior to that day. Plus, you can't help but feel a bit cooler in aero...ha...dorky, but that's how I felt anyway.

Later that evening, I completed a 75-minute ride on my newly-fit bike on the trainer at my apartment. Honestly, I was surprised by how frustrated I quickly became. The shoes felt like the stiff leather was digging into the fronts of my feet. The saddle felt extra-high and my bum started getting extra-sore. It all just felt...awkward. I worried about the shoes...sure I liked the way they look, but if they dig into my feet who cares?! My forearms felt odd against the pads on the aerobars. I became grumpy and hated my bike for a while. For the life of me, I couldn't get my heart rate to get up to the higher zones as prescribed by my coach. It was quite frustrating.

Sunday, I rode again. This time, I rode for two hours on the trainer. The shoes started feeling more "broken-in" and I began to realize how much more smooth and efficient my legs were moving in the new pedals and shoes. I started to enjoy being in the aero position more and noted I was already able to tolerate it for longer periods of time than I was just two days prior. However, I still had to fight to get my heart rate up. I felt as if I was going to explode...I dripped sweat all over the black mat under my bike. I tried higher cadences and harder gears to no avail. For some reason, my heart rate fell short of my goals for the entire workout.

Monday (yesterday), I rode again...for 75 minutes. I had the same heart rate issue...the darn thing is just stuck beating in zone two while on the darn bike. Apparently I've forgotten how to work hard while on the bike. Sigh...I definitely feel as if I'm in a bike-funk.

Funk or not, I am looking forward to some REAL spring and summer weather (I specified "real" because we actually had a snow day here yesterday...never mind the fact that it's technically spring, based on the calendar!). I am eager to get on my bike outside. I'm nervous about all the changes...between the new pedals, shoes and aerobars...and about the fact that my saddle is significantly higher than it was previously. Actually, my feet won't even brush the ground when I'm up in my saddle if I extend my legs out of the pedals! Yikes. This feels significantly less "safe and secure" to me. Nervous or not, though, I can't wait to try out my newly-fit and moderately tricked-out bike on the open road.

Happy training!

Wardrobe malfunction

I haven't written much about swimming...likely because I don't really care for swimming.  I barely know enough about what I'm doing in the water to be able to say I semi-know how to swim.  I have ample room for improvement where swimming is concerned.

I will say...I've been working hard on my swimming technique since the end of November when I started working with my coach.  Since then, most weeks I've been in the pool 3-4 times.  I actually have started to feel stronger and more efficient in the water...and my confidence with swimming has grown as well.

This past week the university rec center's pool where I typically swim was closed thanks to spring break.  In addition, I was traveling much of that week.  As a result, before tonight, I hadn't been in the pool in over a week.  Eek!!

This morning I had to pack many things to take with me before I left the house...including a bag for yoga and a bag for swimming.  I typically don't have time to return home between work and workouts.  My plan this evening was to attend my usual Monday night yoga class after work at 5:30, head over to a family's home to teach two piano lessons, and then hurry to the rec center to get in the pool by 8:15 at the latest...the pool closes at 9 pm and I knew I needed around 45 minutes to get my prescribed 1700 yard swim/drills in.

By 8:05pm I was in the locker room changing into my swimsuit.  I was pumped to be trying out my cute new suit from Athleta.  This past weekend while shopping in DC with some girlfriends, I checked out the new tri collection in an Athleta store.  I was excited to find a colorful two-piece sporty swim suit to replace my tired and well-worn black Reebok two-piece.

After donning the suit and securing my hastily-written out workout in a clear plastic bag so I could easily view it beteeen laps, I realized my goggles weren't in their typical pocket of my swim bag.  I began to panic and dumped the contents of the bag onto the locker room floor. After a few moments of frantic searching, I remembered just where the goggles were:  in my suitcase on my bedroom floor.  I had packed them just in case I had access to a pool during my east coast trio this past weekend.  And...I typically carry two pairs of goggles so I have back-ups, however my backup pair recently suffered strap-breakage and were also in my apartment in hopes of being salvaged at some point.

I stared at the wall for a few moments, contemplating just going home.  I had already complete an hour yoga class this evening, thus successfully completing 66 consecutive days of workouts (getting closer to my goal of 100 each day!)....so I didn't really NEED this swim...right??  However, I ended up forcing myself to go out to the pool anyway.  Going another day without swimming when I'd already gone nine days without swimming didn't sound like a good idea.

I ventured out to the pool with a kick board and pull buoy and jumped into the second lane.  I gave myself a minute to mentally prepare for the irritation of swimming with chlorine constantly in my eyeballs, then pushed off from the wall swiftly with my legs.  Immediately, I felt as if the top of my swimming suit was inflating and being drawn to the bottom of the pool simultaneously.  I addition, the swimsuit bottoms flapped around my hips.  I panicked and stood up in the middle of the lane and walked back to the beginning of the lane, realizing my cute new suit was far too big.  Somehow, the thing expanded as soon as it got heavy with water.

When I got to the side of the pool again, I was able to tighten the tie waist on the bottoms quite a bit to secure them.  However, there wasn't much I could do about the top.  I decided to just go for it.  I was completing this workout, darn it all!!

I set out swimming a lap, careful not to kick off of the side as dramatically as I had the first time.  I kept my eyes closed under water, praying that my contacts would stay securely suctioned to my eyeballs thought the workout.  My eyes burned as I started opening them during breaths; I tried to sneak peeks when my eyes were above water to make sure I was swimming in relatively straight lines and not running into the lane dividers.  

I muscled through all 1700 yards of that workout with no goggles.  In addition, the entire time I swam,  I wondered/worried about the possibility that the male swimmer in the lane to my right a) thought I was a huge poser and/or b) had repeated shots of my chest as swimming suit top sagged toward the bottom of the pool.  

I did realize I had to concentrate much more on how my body FELT in the water tonight.  When most of my sight had been eliminated as a means for adjusting my stroke, I found myself working hard to make changes to how I was swimming based on how my body felt in the water.  I guess if something positive were to be identified from this experience, it would be that it challenged my body/position awareness.

I had never been as excited to get out of the pool as I was tonight.  On the agenda for tomorrow?  

1). Calling Athleta to see if they REALLY allow you to make returns/exchanges after you wear something (their catalog says you can!) and send my way-too-big suit back 

2). Ordering a second pair of goggles so I have a back-up pair in my swim bag!

Here's hoping I don't ever have a swim worse than tonight's! 

Happy swimming!