Mud and Chocolate Half Marathon

Leading up to the Mud and Chocolate Half Marathon I was a little concerned about my back.  After my massage it felt much better and it really felt better when I ran as opposed to walking or sitting around.  Ok, so I was also a little concerned about the weather – the forecast wasn’t all that great.  And I was a more than a little concerned that this was a trail run – our first ever trail experience.

We had a busy night on Saturday.  We went to Tulalip Bingo where we came within one or two daubs of winning the whole thing.  We sat in the non smoking area which was located on the other side of the smoking area.  Also, the bathrooms were in the smoking area too.  WTF Tulalip?  Anyway, after bingo we went to eat at a cajun restaurant called Alligator Soul.  We were meeting other people there at 7pm and we didn’t have reservations.  The place was packed when we arrived at 6:20 so we waited at the bar for the rest of our party.  They arrived about 7:20 and we were seated soon after that.  Dinner was lovely.  I had shrimp creole and Morrie had ribs.  Both were delicious.  Morrie ordered the brownie for dessert but was disappointed in the dryness. We finally arrived home at 11pm.  Thankfully we had prepared our running gear earlier in the day so we could fall right into bed.

Me and Morrie

We got up around 6:45 on Sunday morning and got the coffee going.   Morrie had cooked up some bacon the day before so we had some of that and finalized some of the preparations.  Susan had volunteered to be our pit crew and she came over around 8am.  We printed off the directions and headed out.  It was cold out and I was starting to dread taking my coat and pants off.  We arrived at the Redmond Watershed Preserve at around 8:45 and the parking lot was already full so we had to park on the side of the road.  We got out and got into the bib line to check in.  Race numbers in hand we headed back to the car to assemble ourselves.  We made one last pit stop at the bathrooms then mosied on down to the race start where the organizers were giving the logistics.

After a few minutes of learning about their signage, horse right-of-way, and confidence markers, we all filled into the trail.  They picked this section to begin because it was the widest part of the trail.  Seriously it was about 2 1/2 – 3 feet wide.  Before we knew it the race had begun.  The line thinned out a bit.  Actually it just elongated.  There was a line of single file runners heading down the trail.  We kept to our standard run 8 minutes, walk two for the first loop.  FYI, the loops were 4.25 miles each.  After about 30 minutes I developed a sharp pain from my low back down my right butt cheek.  This is the opposite side that had been bothering me.  I briefly entertained the idea of quitting at the aid station.  We finished the first loop in 1 hour and a few seconds.  Susan cheered us into the aid station then we were off again.

Me on the trail. Loop #1

We ran into a couple horses so we stopped and let them go by.  We had to make a pit stop to pee just before the first big hill.  We walked up the hill and tried to stick to the 8 minutes on, two minutes off but we decided to walk the up hills and save our energy.  We walked a lot more on this loop and had to stop to empty shoes and stretch more.  At one point Morrie developed a cramp in her leg and I wondered if we were going to finish the race. We made it to the aid station and to my surprise, three other women came in behind us.  They didn’t stay long and were off  on their third loop.  We never saw them again.

We headed out on the third and final loop and we managed to run about 5 minutes before we had to walk.  We made another pit stop to pee and this time I wasn’t the only one.  We talked about how Morrie learned, via Youtube, how to properly pee in the woods.  That was one advantage I had at growing up in the country I guess.  We walked up the hill then started running.  At this point our leg cramps and shooting pain were just about too much.  We decided to walk up all the hills regardless of the time.  That lasted until about the first downhill and that’s when we decided to walk the rest of the way.  We had no sense of direction and no sense of how far we had gone or how far we had to go.  It was a long walk.  And because we weren’t running we started to cool down.  My hands were getting cold and Morrie was wearing just a short sleeved shirt.  I had put one short sleeved tech shirt on underneath my long sleeved tech shirt so I was ok there.  Pretty soon we heard someone come up behind us.  The sweepers.  They were picking up the markers and signs.  We chit-chatted for a while then then held back a little.  We got to the turn by the aid station and we stopped to stretch.  We took off and rounded the corner.  Just the two aid station guys were there along with Morrie’s mom.  We painfully jogged along past them and up the little incline to the finish.

With our chocolate finishers medals.

bike ride in the storm and upcoming half marathon

We’ve got a busy weekend coming up.  Our friend Jackie has a birthday and we’ll head up to the Tulalip Casino for some Bingo then to Alligator Soul for some dinner.  Susan and I decided to go for a bike ride, hoping to offset some of those impending calories.

The sky was black when we arrived on Harbor Ave.  We should have known not to ride but we headed out anyway.  It was a littly rainy and a little breezy but not too bad.  The lights from downtown Seattle were pretty clear as the wind had moved any low clouds off the water.  As soon as we rounded the point that’s when it hit.  The wind practically blew me backwards.  Well, that’s what it felt like anyway.  There were a few times when I was blown sideways too.  The nice part was that there were very few people out on the trail.

We headed toward Alki.  I looked out across the Sound toward Bainbridge Island.  The lights there were crystal clear too.  Ferries coming and going were all lit up.  There were logs in the water but the waves were pretty subdued here.  Actually, the water seemed to swell and heave gently with the current.  Seemed pretty inviting except it looked cold and dark.

We regrouped and decided to keep going.  That is, until we rounded the corner onto Beach Drive.  Not only was the wind whipping at us, it was throwing the rain into our faces and the waves crashing into the seawall were spraying us.  We went a block and decided to turn around.  With the wind at our backs, the ride was pretty nice.  Though that didn’t last long.  We rounded the corner and were blasted again on the Elliott Bay side.

We pushed on and eventually made it back to the truck and in the process nearly had to run over a f*cktard in all black running on the trail going from side to side.  Still, I’ll feel pretty good about the seafood gumbo I’ll be enjoying tomorrow evening.  And if the bike ride wasn’t enough to zero out the calories, Sundays Mud and Chocolate half marathon should.

This will be our second Half Marathon but our first trail run.  We are looking forward to it even though the weather is supposed to be miserable.  Guess that’s where the Mud will come in.  Apparently it’ll be three loops at 4.4 miles each.  Susan has offered to be our “crew”.  Of course, there’s a price for her services:  we have to pay her in chocolate.  Shouldn’t be difficult since they’ll be offering it at every aid station.

This will also be my first race with my hydration backpack.  I’ve worn it 2-3 times while running and it’s worked out pretty well except the plastic taste and that it wears on my tech shirts something fierce.

Motivation

*knock-knock-knock* is usually how it begins.  Nic walks into my cube and asks if I’ve read the email that he just sent.  So I go to my email and sure enough, there’s an email.  Sometimes it’s a video of Raul Ibanez fielding a perfectly good ground ball only to throw it into the ground 6 feet in front of him.  Sometimes it’s some stupid video he’s found on some college humor website.  Sometimes it’s a comic strip he thinks I’ll enjoy.  But more often than not it’s got something to do with running.

One link sent me to a clip about some crazy endurance race where people crawl through creek beds on their bellies and run all hours of the day and night.  Sometimes it’s a link to a group he wants me to join or to a photo album showing me how fun it is to collect race numbers. Other times it’s some video of pretty mountain scenery that one might encounter on an ultra marathon.  That was in the beginning.  Now I get sent to photo albums of bloody nipples.  I was just really happy for that sports bra after I viewed that page.  Then along came the awareness of toenail disasters and blister popping.

Ok, so he didn’t send me the video of the blister popping.  He made me come to his cubicle to watch it with him.  It was disgusting and I’ll spare you all (all 5 of you who read this blog) the link.  Morrie and I watched the documentary “Running on the Sun” about the Badwater 135 and part of that video showed several runners popping blisters.  That was mild compared to the video he showed me.  I’ll never be the same again.

Does this guy want me to continue running?  Because if he does, he shouldn’t show me these types of things.  Pretty mountain trails, ok.  Hypodermic needles to gigantic toe blisters, not ok.  He can keep sending the bloody nipple photos though, because those just make me smile.

Back troubles

After the Salty’s Half Marathon I had a little sciatica in my left butt cheek so I decided to go to my chiropractor and have him give me an adjustment.  I went and he gave me a hard time for not having seen him in nearly a year.  Really?  Had it been that long?  Well, in any event he ushered me into the room and we exchanged pleasentrys.  I laid down on his table, face down, and apparently my left leg was shorter than my right.  Crack, adjust, crack some more and I’m out of there.

The next morning I had my Weight Watchers meeting (down 0.2 lbs this week) and I squirm in my chair.  My lower back aches.  I finish the meeting and head home.  Morrie and I get our stuff ready and we head out for a 6 mile run at Seward Park.  The road in the park is slanted to the right and my right knee begins to hurt.  I switch over to the other side of the road where it’s flatter.  That seems to help.

We finish our run (we actually call it a shuffle.  The Shuffle of Death to be exact) and we head home.  I do some tree trimming and yard work.  My back is stiff and a little sore when I bend over to pick up branches.  It sucks getting old.

Sunday was a little worse.   I went to Target with a friend and we walked around Westwood Village.  I was a bit stiff and sore getting in and out of the car and I had sharp pains every so often in my lower abdomen.

Then came Monday morning.  I couldn’t bend over to put my socks on without having a searing pain shoot through my low back.  I had to walk with my hips way forward.  I went to work but instantly regretted the decision and made Morrie come get me and take me home.  I took some Flexeril and went to bed laying on an ice pack.  It felt a little better but then the muscle relaxer wore off and I had pain in my low back and low abdomen.  I laid around and took several Ibuprofen and iced my back several times.  Nothing seemed to be helping.  Morrie came home around 9pm and we debated over whether or not I should take a whole muscle relaxer or just 1/2.  We opted for half since I might need the whole one the next day.

Tuesday was worse yet.  I woke up and tried to get out of bed.  I couldn’t use any of my back muscles to help myself sit up.  I finally stood up and couldn’t put any weight on my left leg without having a shooting pain down my leg.  I hobbled to the bathroom and sitting was just as bad.  I had to hang onto the door handle and the sink and ease myself down.  And the dogs were of little help.

I took more Ibuprofen and iced the heck out of my back.  It did feel good to put the cold pack on it.  I imagine it was pretty inflamed.  I laid around the house all day making sure to get up every once in awhile to move around and limber up.  I took a walk around the block just to get away from the computer (one can only lose so many games of Solitare before it starts to wear on a person).  I went two blocks down and one up and by the time I got home it was time to ice again.   I iced and took Ibuprofen all day.  When Morrie got home we had dinner then we decided to hit the hot tub.  Now *that* really felt good on the back.  I loosened right up and I could stand up without grabbing onto things.  When it came time for bed I laid on an ice pack for good measure.

Wednesday morning I felt pretty good.  The back was a bit stiff and a little tender still but nothing like it was.  I went to work.  We went to get coffee and as we stood around chit-chatting I could feel my back getting tighter and tighter.  I was so distracted by it that I didn’t hear someone saying my name repeatedly (he apparently said it about 5 times).  This is going to be a long day.  I’ve been sitting in my chair for 6 hours and my back is very sore.  I miss my ice packs and I want to lay on the floor of my cube, flat on my back.  I get up for little jaunts to the water fountain or the fax machine but they don’t help much.

 

My First half Marathon

The Inaugural Salty’s Half Marathon was this last Saturday.  We had trained a little bit but never managed a run further than 6.2 miles.  This was going to be fun.  And to top it all off, the weather was crap.  Rain and wind the few days before were not making me want to run this thing.  I woke up at 5:45 on race day, quickly dressed and headed out the door to my Weight Watchers weigh-in.  To my surprise, and relief, the wind had died down and the rain had stopped.  Ok, for the first time I felt ok about this.  I stopped off at Safeway for a jug of Gatorade and a cup of coffee and headed out to weigh-in.

About half way to the meeting it started to sprinkle.  Then it started to pour.  I really just wanted to keep driving.  Oh, shoot, was that race today?  I weighed in (-3lbs but it was because of my clothes) and headed back home.  It was no longer pouring but still sprinkling and the wind had started to pick up.  My mood was definitely suffering because of the weather.  It was made even worse after I found out that my newly purchased hydration pack had a major leak in the bladder causing the water to run down my butt.  We tried some superglue but it wouldn’t work so I dumped out the water and grabbed one of the water bottles we had laying around the house. After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, we headed out.

I was cranky about the water pack and about the rain.  We pulled up to the check-in station and received our numbers.  Apparently there were 75 people signed up for the race but there didn’t seem to be that many there.  Maybe they were all keeping warm and dry in their cars.  We affixed our bibs to our shirts and zipped up our rain jackets.  I was going to tough it out and run in shorts and a long sleeved tech shirt but Morrie went with long pants and a short sleeved tech shirt.  While we were waiting, my friend Nic showed up and he introduced us to a few people.

We gathered at the start and received some last minute instruction from the organizer and then the countdown: 10,9,8…3,2,1!  We had officially started our first half marathon.  Thirteen point one miles from now I’d be back in the same spot.  Morrie had a plan to run 8 minutes, walk 2 the entire distance.  I was skeptical since it’s very difficult for me to start up again after I stop.  It wasn’t very long before everyone else was in front of us.  We had already decided that coming in 74th and 75th was fine with us.  We ran along the water, past Alki Tavern and around the horn.  Pretty soon 8 minutes were up and I decided to try Morrie’s plan.  So we walked for two minutes and started back up.  It wasn’t that bad.  But then it started raining.

We reached the first aid station and I grabbed a cup of water.  I had my water bottle but it had a mix of Gatorade and water in it so I figured I should drink water when it was offered.  I could see ahead of us a woman who was also running the race.  She had a red shirt on so I kept an eye on her.  I figured I’d be better off if I could keep her in my sights.   She walked periodically too which helped keep her close to us.  But other times she’d get well ahead of us.  By now it had started really pouring.  Big, fat raindrops.  My shoes and feet were getting wet and I envisioned all sorts of blisters on my feet by the time this thing was over.

We plodded on and reached mile 3-ish where a volunteer was standing in the rain (she did at least have an umbrella) guiding us to the right direction.  Morrie and I were not running so fast that we couldn’t carry on a conversation.  Mostly we (I) complained about the rain and wondered how far we’d get before we met the people in front of us coming back.  We stopped again at mile 4 for some water.  There were many large puddles of water and Morrie managed to find several of them.  Her feet were drenched.  Mine were only a little better.  But by now my long sleeved shirt was so wet that the elbows were sagging and Morrie’s pant legs were floppy because of the weight of the water.  Finally around mile 5 or so we met the first place runner.  Several of the people coming back gave words of encouragement, some just ignored us.  We met Nic early on.  He gave us some atta girls and kept on truckin’.  We were heading up the hill at this point.  Not a big hill, but a hill nonetheless.  Oh, and more pouring rain.

We got to the entrance of Lincoln Park and headed down the path, past the last water station and toward the pool house, the official turnaround.  We trotted off toward the red shirt woman when someone came up behind us and said she thought we needed to go the other way.  How did this woman get behind us?  I thought we were last.  Oh, well it doesn’t matter now because she’s past us and getting further away.  We round the pool house and find the restrooms.  I had needed to pee for about 2 miles and it was getting a little uncomfortable running with a full bladder.  We peed and scarfed down some Clif Blocks and off we went.  My water bottle was empty and I had planned on filling it up at the last aid station but when we got back to it, it was packed up and gone.  Damn.  We’ve taken 1 hour and 27 minutes to get this far.

Just after leaving the park we ran up behind two gentlemen who asked us “What race?”.  I kept moving forward but looked back and said, “Salty’s half marathon”.  One guy replied, “Oh, we did those races about 30 years ago.  Good luck.”  We’d need it as we were just starting back up the other side of that hill.  There was some sidewalk construction going on so we had to cross the street and run on the road between the ditch and some orange cones for a short distance.  We got past the cones and crossed to the other side of the street.  The downhill was a welcome relief but short lived.

At somewhere around mile 8 or 9 my hamstrings start becoming very tight.  We begin running 8 minutes, walking 1 minute and stretching for one minute.  It doesn’t feel like the stretching is working.  My hamstrings are very tight and sore.  The outside of my right calf hurts.  The arch in my right foot hurts.  The outside of my right foot hurts.  But my breathing is good and I don’t feel too sluggish.  We are back running along the beach, somewhere around mile 11 or so and Nic shows up.  He’s walked back to us to see how we are doing.  He’s got enough in him to run with us.  He distracts us from the pain and tight muscles.  He offers suggestions and we plod on.  After rounding the tip of Alki we decide to take one last 2 minute walk break and then the next stop is the finish line.

As we get nearer the finish line we discuss, very briefly, if there will be a final push at the end.  I say no.  I think Morrie says no.  Nic tries to persuade us otherwise but hell with him.  Each step forward makes me wonder if my leg muscles will have enough left in them to catch me from falling.  We get nearer the finish line.  They are already packing stuff up.  Nic asks someone if they have the timer and someone runs out to the path.  Finally!  After 3 hours, one minute and 4 seconds, it’s over.

We wander over to the refreshment area.  Apparently chocolate milk is a great recovery drink but I wouldn’t be able to gag it down.  Morrie has some.  I bend and try to stretch my legs then I squat down.  My legs are really sore and I can’t stand much.  I want to crawl to the car and sit.  But first, the cold plunge into Elliott Bay to soothe our poor tired legs.  We baby step down to the waters edge.  The rocks are slimy and I nearly fall.  I manage to get my shoes and socks off and wade into the water up to my knees.  The rocks hurt my feet and it’s hard to stay standing.  I stay for a minute, maybe two then out.  I get my shoes back on and wait for Morrie and Nic.

We head back to the car.  There is some debate over going home first or eating first.  I vote for going home first and since Morries’ pants are wet she agrees.  We drop Nic off at his place and head home.  By the time we get out of the car, we are stiff.  We hobble up the stairs.  “No jumping on me” I say to the dogs as I walk into the house.  Even the little one could have knocked me over at that point.  I head to the bedroom and start peeling wet clothes off.  We take showers and get dressed.  By now I’m starving.  We decide on pizza so we head down to Zeek’s.  We enjoy our meal, it was the best pizza I’ve ever had, and talk about the run.  Morrie even suggests that “it was kinda fun”.  It was fun.  Despite the rain.  And the last 6.5 miles.

Off the deep end.

For some reason, well, ok, it’s because of Nic, I’ve signed up for my first 1/2 marathon.  Actually I’m currently signed up for three of them, soon to be four.  But back to blaming Nic.  Nic is this guy that I work with.  He’s a runner.  Or an Ultra-runner.  Or whatever they call themselves these days.  Basically he runs 50 to 100 miles.  At a time.  He feeds my impulsive behavior with things like, “I believe anyone can run at least 3.1 miles at any given time” or, “It’s only 13.1 miles.  You can do that, easy”.  I’ll give him the first one, I did manage 3.1 the very first time out this year though I was purple in the face and couldn’t speak when we were running.  He, meanwhile, blabbered on and on.  But really?  Thirteen point one miles?  Me?  I’m skeptical.

The race is the Inaugural Salty’s Half Marathon to be held October 17 on Alki.  It’s one of those out and backs.  And I would consider it fortunate that this is the path that we already do most of our runs on and most of our bike rides too.  So I’ll know the route and how far I have left to go.  Or is that unfortunate?  Is it better to know how far you must go before you reach the finish line?  Or should it just be a surprise and pop up when you least expect it?  Personally, I like to know where the finish line is.  If I don’t know where it is it feels like I’m not making progress.  Or what if I think it’s right around the corner, like at the Susan G. Komen and really it was another mile away.  How disheartening.  Plus, I like neat finishes and what’s neater than ending where you start?  Coming full circle, and all that.

I’ve had a few anxiety dreams about the race.  I don’t think I had any for the 0ther races, including the Danskin.  What’s that all about?  I’m a little concerned about the time limit, set at 2 hours, 45 minutes.  If I can keep my Iron Girl pace for the whole 13.1 miles I’ll just make it.  But knowing myself I’ll probably slow down after the first 6 miles.  I’m not really concerned whether or not I’ll finish.  I’ve got too much pride to quit so if I have to crawl across the finish line 5 hours after I start then so be it.  I figure since we’ve been running 5 or 6 miles lately that that is now my base and an additional 7 1/2 miles will be on par to running the Iron Girl.  Yeah, I’m going to hurt but I’m confident about the training I’ve been doing and I’m hoping and assuming I’m not going to hurt that bad.  I’ll let you know on Sunday.  But back to blaming Nic.

Nic belongs to some group called Marathon Maniacs.  This is a group of people who like to run marathons.  Or other crazy distances like 50 or 100 miles.  At a time.  Nic is constantly trying to get me to run further than I’m comfortable, which is why I signed up for a half marathon after only running one 10k.  And since I’m going to run one half marathon, why not run another one?  So I went and signed up for the Eugene Marathon in May 2010.  And hey, while I’m at it, if I do three in 90 days I can join the Half Fanatics, the half marathoner version of Marathon Maniacs.  So, I signed up for First Call to Run on January 1st.  That makes three.  But not in 90 days.  I need another one somewhere in November or December.  Oh, lookit, the Seattle 1/2 marathon is November 29 (happy birthday BAD).  Salty’s, Seattle 1/2 and the First Call would be my three in 90 days, putting me firmly in the dreaded Uranus category of Half Fanatic-ism.  And there’s some talk about running the Surf City half marathon in February in Southern California.  And maybe one up in Canada.  And maybe another one in Mexico next fall.  But first I need to finish my first half marathon.  And I’ll get that opportunity two days from now.

Running interstate.

So we missed the Trek Triathlon because we were signed up to do the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.  But not in our home city of Seattle.  And not even in our state of Washington.  We were taking this business out of state.  Ok, so barely out of state.  Portland, Oregon to be exact.  It’s different.  They won’t let you pump your own gas there.  Anyway, my cousin is a breast cancer survivor and she has a team every year and we were on it.  I had heard it’s a good time for everyone.  Again, someone lied to me.  More on that later.

I knew Seattle had a good showing for their race in June.  It was held the same day as the Furry 5k and though I briefly had aspirations of running both races I stuck to just the Furry 5k. I figured the Portland race would be a quaint affair, maybe 8,000 people.  No.  I had to log onto my fundraising site and then I saw the participant numbers.  OMG!  35,000?  Was that right?  could it be a typo?  A serious mistake?  How could I possibly be around that many people at one time?  Then, after some searching around the internet it got worse.  Apparently Portland has the 2nd or 3rd largest event in the nation and they estimate 46,000 participants.  Oh god.  This is going to be worse than the Danskin.

I tried to put the amount of people out of my mind.  This was a fundraising event and I would spend time with my family.  I tried to make that my focus.  But 46,000 people?  And 22 of those would be my teammates.

the team

Twenty two people at once are hard enough for me to handle.  Maybe if I raise enough money I can buy my way out of it.  Nope, I guess not.

We headed down to Vancouver – we were staying with friends (thanks Carla and Dany) – on Saturday morning.  We made a quick pit stop at the local REI which ended up with me throwing a temper tantrum (hardly my first, or my last) and not buying anything and swearing I would never buy anything there again.  Words I would eat in less than a month.  Well, anyway, we found out that we needed to check in on Sunday morning to get our timing chips and race bibs.  Why they couldn’t put them in with our packets I’ll never know.  We had dinner at carb load central – The Old Spaghetti Factory – and met a childhood friend at a tavern for a beer.  Then off to bed for a 4:30am wake-up.

As it turns out, the wake-up happened around 4:15.  We got up and got our shorts on.  Shirts, hats, long pants and sweatshirts, shoes, too.  We headed out to the nearest Starbucks for coffee and something to hold me over.  We arrived at the shuttle just before 6am.  We checked in with my cousin who had not yet arrived at the mall parking lot.  I told her about having to get our timing chip so we decided it would be best to take the shuttle without them and meet everyone over at the race.

We get to the expo and there are alread a ton of people there.  We check in and get our chips and bibs and get them put on.  Then we try to find our teammates.  It wasn’t all that difficult actually.  My cousin had a sign with our team name on it and it was easy to pick out.  We gathered around and chit chatted for a while.  Our race was about to begin so we shedded our long pants and sweatshirts and handed them over to our friend Dany.  Our plan was to run the 5k then reassemble with our team and walk the 5k together.

Again we are asked to queue up according to our pace times.  There is a large gap between us and the group in front of us at first but it eventually fills up.  And the next thing I know, we are off.  Away we go.  Through the balloon arches and down the street.  Four lanes of road all to us.  We pass an inhaler, broken and strewn on the road.  Hope nobody needs that later.  We go a few blocks then make a right turn.  Then it’s a long, straight stretch for some distance.  And then, what’s this?  Is that a hill-like incline?  Oh, it’s the exit from a bridge that we need to run up.  Yippee!  But it doesn’t last long then we go back down the other side and then another right turn.

The photographer is dead ahead and I try my best to ignore him, as I usually do.  I see a left turn ahead.  This must be the down and back portion as there are already people coming back down it.  I make the turn carefull not to trip over the train tracks.  Finally, I’m at the turn-around.  I guess it must be about a mile to the finish.  Oh how wrong I was.  It was closer to 1 3/4 mile probably.  Morrie was right behind me as we trotted along.  Then, up ahead, the railroad crossing arms started coming down, lights flashing and alarms sounding.  Here comes the Coast Starlight (or was it the Empire Builder) into Portland.  We timed it so we didn’t need to stop.  The train passed and the arms lifted in plenty of time.

I keep thinking the finish line must be getting close, but it isn’t.  I can’t even see it.  There is a group of drummers playing so I figure this must be the last push but where is it?  I’m starting to hear announcers and there are more and more people so yes, this is it!  Oh, the finish line, I can see it!  I start to pour it on and I’m almost to the blue mats when the woman who is running in front of me stops on the mats.  Hello?  Do you think you are the only person in this race?   I nearly run into her but she’s still oblivious which irritates me to no end.  I want to push her over.  But I don’t because this is a fundraiser.

ribbon

Morrie and I immediately head over to the water bottle and banana area.  My goal for the race was to beat my best 5k time by one minute.  I didn’t make it.  I beat it by a mere 27 seconds, but still, a personal best.  We gather up with our teammates and we’ve got about 30 minutes to kill before the walk starts.  By now there are a lot more people here and it’s starting to warm up a bit.  We meander around and meet up with more teammates.  There is some talk about getting into the line for the walk since it starts in 10 minutes.  But nobody moves.

Finally we decide to get in line and when we get over there I can’t believe the amount of people.  The walk starts and they have us diverted down two different streets.  Half turn onto the first one and we head up to the next block.  Oh, and it’s less of a walk as it turns out and more of a shuffle.  There are so many people here that it’s difficult to move.

several of the 50,000 people in my way

I can see how someone could be crushed or stampeded.  We finally make it to the first real turn and omg!  All 4 lanes of the street plus the turn lane are shoulder to shoulder with people!  I decide that this is the perfect time and pace to take photos so I dig the camera out and start snapping.  One team has turtle balloons.  Another team has horse heads.

We make our way to the bridge incline and people are starting to spread out now.  Thankfully.  But it’s still pretty crowded.  We go up the incline and down the other side.  By the time we make it to where the run turned left toward the turn-around they had eliminated that from the route.  Ok by me.  Pretty soon the finish line was near.  A welcome sight let me tell you.  As we cross the finish line, a mere 1 hour 49 minutes after starting, the announcer claims there were 50,000 participants.

What’s a girl to do?

I got on the scale this morning.  152.something pounds.  WTF?  I’m staying within my points and I’m exercising like a woman possessed, why am I not losing weight?  I’m going to try cutting down on the fruit intake.  Yeah, that’s right, fruit is doing me in.  I’m chubby because I like apples.

I’m reading “Shape Up with the Slow Fat Triathlete:  50 Ways to Kick Butt on the Field, in the Pool, or at the Gym–No Matter What Your Size or Shape” by Jayne Williams.  She says that getting your core into shape will help you in your athleticism.  So, as a follower of the Slow Fat Triathlete, I’m checking out the local Pilates place.  I’m going from apple core to my core.

The Slow Fat Triathlete also says to eschew diets.  Well that isn’t good news for Weight Watchers.  But I’m inclined to believe her.  I mean, really, I’m not losing weight and I’m running several times a week with a long bike ride thrown in for good measure.  And I’m hungry.  And I need to cut back on my fruit.  So what’s the point?  Ok, yeah, I’m gaining muscle and that weighs more than fat.  The thing on the front of my belly that flops around when I run isn’t muscle, I can guarantee that.  I really miss pizza.  And Jalisco’s Camarones con macho sauce.  What’s a girl to do?

What’s next?

That was the subject line of an email sent by Susan the day after the Danskin.  What does she mean “what’s next”?  Healing, perhaps.  Resting, maybe.  No, none of that.  She wants us to sign up for the Trek Triathlon scheduled one month away.  Unfortunately, Morrie and I had already committed to running the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5k in Portland that weekend so we wouldn’t be able to do it.  Whew!  But Jackie caved and signed up too.

At some point we did decide to bump things  up a bit and signed up for the Aflac Iron Girl 10k.  Whoohoo!  This was going to be two laps around Green Lake on September 12.  We went to packet pick up the day before and it was 88 degrees.  We picked up our packets, shirts (a lovely v-neck tech shirt in pink) and our Aflac plush duck that screams “Aflac” when you push a button.  There is nothing memorable about the night before the race.  Or maybe I’m blocking it from my memory banks.

Race day comes and we carpool to the lake.  Parking around Green Lake is crappy at best and we wanted to get a good spot.  We found a spot that wasn’t too far from the start.  We piled out of the car and took some photos.

Looking like an underwear model.

We headed over to the start line.  It was going to be a nice day but it was just 7am and was still a little brisk out.  We made our way to the porta-potties and stood in line.  After that we wandered around, listened to the announcer make his announcements, got our photos taken by some professional photog or another.  Pretty soon it was time to line up.  This was the first race where we were asked to line up according to our pace.  We headed toward the back of the line and found the 12:30 pace.  Not far from the end as it turns out.  But the walkers were (supposed to be) behind us.  More announcing.  Apparently one of the contestants of The Biggest Loser, Susie something, was running her first 10k.  And some personal stories were read.  And the national anthem was sung.  And a 5 minute delay.

Oh, now we’re ready!  The “Aflac” was sounded and off we went.  Well, sorta.  We walked for a good while before things thinned out.  Seems some of the walkers thought it appropriate to line up with the 6 minute milers and insisted on walking 3-4 abreast.  Much dodging and going off the path to get around these people but finally I passed most of the walkers and it was fine.  Morrie had to stop off at the first bathroom and I continued on.  I couldn’t bear the thought of having to weave around the walkers again.

Finally, around mile 1 1/2 there was a water station.  I grabbed a cup and gulped my three oz. of water and off I went.  There was a little confusion around the Bathhouse where the second lap of the 10k was diverted to the outside lane.  People were yelling 10k this way and I had to stop to cross over only to realize that they were yelling this at the women who were on their second lap.  On their second lap?  I’d been lapped.  Fine.

I felt pretty good that first lap and into my fourth mile.  I caught up to someone who was walking and said, “C’mon, Iron Girl!”  She started running and we went for quite a while together.  We hit the second water station at mile 4-ish.  (Note to Aflac organizers:  wtf?  How about having two water stations next year?) From mile 4 until about mile 5 I was feeling really good.  My legs were warmed up and nothing was hurting too bad.  Then mile 5 and beyond happened.  I was feeling sluggish and thirsty and suddenly my right leg just below my knee was really hurting.  Well, I’m just stubborn enough to keep running and that’s what I did.  I tried to pour it on coming down the finish chute but it didn’t really amount to much.  I crossed the finish line in 1:17:49.

We grabbed our yogurt parfait (one per person please) and found a patch of lawn to sit down.  We chatted for a while then tried to get up to leave.  Ow.  The muscles had already stiffened up but we managed to get up and get to the car.  More photo ops and then off to home for some well deserved napping.

Finisher's medal

The Danskin, part 2

We planned on everyone meeting at our house to drive down together to Qwest field where we would catch the shuttle to the race start.  This required a 5:15am wake up.  On a Sunday.  Good lord, what have we done?  We managed to crawl out of bed pretty easily and had wisely packed our gear the night before so all we really needed to do was get dressed, walk the dog, and have some breakfast.  It was cool out which had me worried since I absolutely hate being cold.  All I could think about was how cold the water was going to be and I wasn’t really looking forward to this adventure.

Our friends showed up and we exchanged story’s about how well we did or didn’t sleep the night before and how we weren’t looking forward to the day ahead of us and let’s just do this thing.  We piled into the vehicle and headed out for the shuttle.  There was a bit of confusion about parking a week before the event.  Seems the Mariner’s had a big series that weekend against the (damn) Yankees and that parking garage was no longer available to Danskin participants.  I bet if they had bothered to check, the garage wasn’t available all along since the baseball schedules come out well in advance.  Oh well.

We parked at Qwest field and wandered over to the buses.  I really wasn’t looking forward to this and had some long conversations in my head about what a dumbass I was for signing up.  Is it too late to back out now, I wondered.  Of course, I’d never let myself back out, mostly because of pride.  That’s the same thing that kept me from crying my way out of Navy boot camp.  I had always been a bit of a jock in school so not passing the physical stuff didn’t seem feasible.  So I endured and went on to spend 4 torturous years in the Navy.  And I was destined to spend 2 1/2 torturous hours in, on and around Lake Washington today.  The bus came and we all loaded onto it.  Remember when we could fit 3 of us in one seat?  Those days are long gone.  These days two of us can just fit.  And I think I may have gotten some kidney damage from all the jostling.  Seriously, do we care about our school aged children?

Waiting for the shuttle. See how thrilled I am to be there?

The bus ride is pretty quick though there is a moment of panic when the bus turns right, away from the race start, and proceeds to drive about 2 miles down the road.  All of us who know where the event is being held are giving nervous glances at each other.  Someone asks, “Does the driver know where he’s going?”  Shoulders shrug and we continue driving away from the event.  Then, to our relief, the driver turns and wends his way back.  Weird route but we still made it.

We step off the bus and that’s when Susan decides to look in her bag for her timing chip and swim cap.  Guess what?  It’s not there….it’s at her house.  It’s either back onto the shuttle to the truck then home to get it, taking another hour, and potentially missing her start time, or we find out if they have spare chips and caps.  Hey, guess what?  Apparently she’s not the first one to do this so they are prepared to offer her another swim cap and timing chip, for a fee.  Whew!  At least she doesn’t have to go back to get hers.

We go to the transition area and drop our stuff off and I go with Susan to the swim start area to purchase her new timing chip.  We return to the transition area and we start to set up.  I lay out my towel first and put my running shoes and hat on it.  Then the bike shoes, shorts, and shirt with bib pinned to it.  Once everything is set up we see that we have time to orient ourselves to the beginning and end of the various events.  And most importantly we queue up for the porta-potties.

After we find all the entrances and exits of the different legs, and after being yelled at by a few unhelpful volunteers, we go back to the transition area to prepare.  We remove our sweat pants and shirts.    OMG!  Did I mention it’s cool out?  And even cooler with few clothes on?  Time for a few more snacks then we head off to the swim start area.  Oh god, I’m really dreading this part.  All I can think of is that first plunge into cold Lake Washington and how that’s going to feel on the small of my back.  I don’t wanna do this part.  Don’t make me do this part.  Also, I’m irritated because we are standing on asphalt with loose gravel on it and it hurts my feet.  We chat with one another amongst the sea of purple swim caps.  And slowly we inch our way to the front.

We get to a bottleneck where they let a wave of 100 in at a time.  Oh crap.  Here we go.  I want to cry.  Only one group ahead of us and there is a cheerleader on the dock next to them telling them to have fun and you can do it and all I can think of is shut the hell up, biotch.  Then the cheerleader counts them down – 10, 9, 8…..3, 2, 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front of us.  And now it’s my turn.

We walk up to the water and step into Lake Washington.  Ok.  It’s not quite as bad as I expected.  But it’s not bathwater so I’m still disappointed.  We walk in up to our knees-ish.  Some women are up to their waist which is something I wouldn’t be able to do.  Knees are just fine for now, thanks.  I only have to stand here waiting for the next 3 minutes.  Normally that would seem like a long time but when you are dreading the very thing you will begin in that time, it seems like those minutes fly by. The cheerleader is saying something to us and then 10, 9, 8…..3, 2 1!  Cheering from the crowd behind us and splashing in front.  With a resigned groan I fall into the water.  Yeah, it’s cool and I gasp a little.  And again.  And again.  But I’m swimming.  And I’m bumping into people.  And I’m gasping.  I think I had about 85 panic attacks before I reached the first buoy.

But the first buoy was reached.  That second leg was the longest and facing into the sun.  Which was fine because my goggles had fogged up and I couldn’t see a damn thing anyway.  Ok, so more bumping into people and the periodic comment from a swim angel, “are you ok?” and “you’re gonna want to straighten out” and pretty soon I was near the second buoy.  Yay.  With all the zig-zagging that I did I am pretty sure I swam closer to a mile than just 1/2 mile.  Anyway, we started to thin out around the second buoy but by this time I didn’t have it in me to do the crawl.  So I just stuck with the side stroke and the back stroke to take me to the finish.  Finally, I can see through fogged goggles, the finish line!  I crawl out of the water and nearly tip over.  My legs are like rubber.  And what’s tickling my arm?  I reach and grab onto some water plant and throw it off me as I stumble up the ramp.  Oh thank god it’s over.

I trot over to the transition area where I find Susan getting into her bike gear.  “Did you see Morrie?” I ask, trying to gauge how far ahead of me she is.  I can’t remember what the answer was but I dry off as much as I can, pull on my shirt and shorts and sit down to put my socks and shoes on.  Susan and I chit chat about rubber legs all the while then I don my helmet and unrack my bike and bid adieu.

I pedal along Lake Washington Blvd.  Passing some folks, and being passed by others.  Biking is my favorite leg of the Danskin.  I’m not fast – I’m on a Trek Hybrid for crying out loud – but unlike running, I can take a break from pedaling and still make forward progress.  Try not moving your legs on a run and see how far you get.  On the I-90 bridge someone had taken a spill and medics were attending to her.  How does someone crash on a clear and straight path?  Ok, yeah, I’ve fallen off my bike for no apparent reason so I know it can happen but I just don’t understand how.  I kept looking at the women coming toward me to see if I could find Morrie.  I was happy that I didn’t see her right away…that meant I could still catch her.  But seriously, where the hell is the turn-around?  I kept thinking it was right around this corner or just past this tunnel or just over this hill.  It was none of these places.  I finally saw Morrie and shouted out to her.  She was humping up a hill but still found something inside that could muster up a wave.  Ha!  I wasn’t that far behind her and maybe, depending on where the hell the turn-around is, I might be able to catch her.  There were about 3-4 people in the median between the express lanes of I-90 and the regular, West bound lanes, cheering us on.  How did they get there?  Oh, great distraction.  I didn’t even notice that the turn-around was near.  Only 6 more miles to go!

The second 6 miles went by much faster than the first 6 miles.  Maybe because I definitely knew where the end was.  And the end was my goal.  I make it back to the bridge and the woman who crashed has on oxygen and she’s holding her arm.  Medics are with her and I speed past knowing in an instant I could be on the ground holding my arm.  Or my leg or my bloody face.  I get a burst of energy when I get off I-90 and back onto Lake Washington Blvd.  Except there are women who behave like this is just a Sunday stroll along the lake.  Hello?  Single file, have you heard of it?  Finally I bust past them and head back into the transition area.  Morrie is there.

“Oh, I was just about to head out for the run but I’ll wait for you”.  Aww, that’s sweet.  I rack my bike, remove my helmet and bike shoes and swap them out for running shoes.  I gobble a caffeine bean, grab my hat and we are off.  As we trot over to the run start my legs are so tired and wobbly.  Just a few yards from the start is the first water station.  I managed to drink most of the bottle on my bike but want to hydrate as much as I can so I grab a cup and drink.  We head out.  We joke and talk and laugh.  It’s turned out to be a rather warm day and I catch myself thinking a nice plunge into Lake Washington sounds good right about now.  ?  Everyone along the route is encouraging.  There’s a guy with a cowbell, some drummers and quite a few spectators.  Even fellow Danskinners are shouting out encouragement.  Getting down toward the end of the 5k I tell Morrie that as soon as we get into that final chute I’m pouring it on.  That’s fine, she says, then says she doesn’t have it in her so I should go for it.  We hit the chute and she’s about 1 – 2 strides ahead of me and I put the pedal to the metal and go.  As soon as I get even with Morrie, she does a sideways glance then pours it on.  Damn her!  We cross the finish line, me just a fraction of a second behind Morrie.  We would later learn that our overall time was exactly the same.

We find Jackie at the finish and wait for Susan who’s only a few minutes behind us.  She pushes through the finish line and we all gather in a post-race daze.  We mozy over to the food tent and gather up  bananas, bagels and peanut butter, pop-tarts and chips.  And water.  We gnosh a bit then decide to go gather up our stuff so we can go home and nap.  We get our stuff from the transition area and Morrie and I stay with it while Susan and Jackie take the shuttle back to get the truck.  Morrie and I do some stretching and some massage to get the lactic acid out of our legs while we wait.  And wait.  A few trips to the porta-potties and more waiting.  Then they show up.  We load the bikes up and off we go.

Morrie and I waiting for our ride

We take the bikes back to our house and make arrangements to go to dinner.  I can’t remember if we took a nap or not.  I don’t really remember much.  I remember feeling pretty good.  A little tired, but still good.  I’m pretty sure a shower was had.

My goal for this race was to beat my 2005 times, which I did.  By about 6 minutes.  My final total time was 2:14:30.  And I’m already signed up for next year so I’m going to shoot for a sub-2:00:00.