Hal Higdon, in his Marathon book, suggests resting for 7-10 days after a marathon. I rode a bike during the week following the race and felt it, so decided to wait 10 days before I ran. I'm visiting the Golden State and stayed overnight near the San Francisco airport, so my run this morning was along the bay.
The weather was in the low 60s and slightly overcast. I didn't bring anything with long sleeves, since it's the end of June, but as soon as I started running I warmed right up. There's a nice path that goes along the water and I enjoyed looking at the sea birds and the earthtones of the surrounding hills. I followed the path until it got to a marina. I love being around boats. I have a small sailboat and being at the marina reminded me that my boat has been in the water for at least a month and I have yet to sail. I must remedy that--soon!
I've run along this path before, but never enjoyed it more than this morning. It just felt so good to be out running! I ran light--no water belt, no CrapCam, no GPS. It was an absolutely perfect way to be back on the road.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Monday, June 26, 2006
Race Pictures
Thank you, everyone, for your kind comments. Words can't express how much they mean to me. The misery of the marathon has faded and is replaced by pride in finishing. Yeah! Here are some pictures of Grandma's Marathon that my husband took. They capture the spirit of the race. Juls, let me know if you want any and I'll e-mail the files to you.
Buses brought runners to the starting line in Two Harbors
Road Signs
Middle of the pack
Runnin' Grannies
Avoiding the port-a-potty line
Mission Accomplished!
Buses brought runners to the starting line in Two Harbors
Heading to the starting line
Spectators eagerly anticipate the start of the race
Road SignsMiddle of the packRunnin' GranniesAvoiding the port-a-potty line Men in Skirts. Blogfather Mark would feel right at home.
Mile 26 to...
...and fro
Almost #&@*$ there
Finish Line
Mission Accomplished!Friday, June 23, 2006
Why We Run
Chris Carr, from the local paper, ran his first marathon, Grandma's, last Saturday and kept a blog on the paper's web site. On one of his posts he asked people their reasons for running. He got a lot of comments and compiled some of his favorites into a photo-essay, using images from the Star Tribune archives. It's well-done and worth viewing. There's no music, but you can play the theme from Chariots of Fire in your head. :-)
If you're inspired, feel free to add your own reasons!
If you're inspired, feel free to add your own reasons!
Monday, June 19, 2006
Determined
First, thanks to all your well-wishes and support. The good news is I finished the marathon. The bad news is that it took so long—6:44:39—that it doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment.
Is there anyone as optimistic as a marathoner? We say things like, “I’m going to achieve a personal record,” “I’m going to qualify for Boston,” or “It’s going to be so much FUN!”
The reality of a marathon is another story.
The alarm went off Saturday morning at 4:30. I had bathed and laid out everything I needed the night before and was eating breakfast by 5 a.m. The starting line was in Two Harbors and I was staying about a half-hour north of there. I wasn’t sure how bad the traffic would be, so I wanted to get to Two Harbors early. Buses would take the runners to the starting line, which was on Scenic Highway 61, closed that morning to traffic.
My husband dropped me off at the motel where buses would pick up. I waited in the lobby and chatted with some other runners. Someone noticed my water belt and asked if I was planning to wear it for the race. I explained that I was a slow runner and how in past races the water stops would close before I got to them, so I wanted to make sure I was able to stay hydrated. “What keeps you going,” one woman asked. I didn’t understand the question--what keeps any marathoner going? “Determination,” I replied.
It seemed to take forever before the bus dropped us off at the starting area. I called Juls and we arranged to meet. As I was approaching the area, there was a beautiful young woman with a big, bright smile. It took me a moment to realize it was Juls! We walked together toward the start and my husband happened to be walking towards us with his camera, so he took our picture.
We chatted as I looked for my running group, then she assumed I’d want to stand in the port-a-potty line before the race began. This woman knows me; she reads my blog! We wished each other luck, then I went to queue up and Juls went off to find someone else she was planning to meet.
In the port-a-potty line I heard someone call out to some guy named Chris, who was standing a few people in front of me. He turned sideways and I realized it was the marathon blogger from our local paper, Chris Carr. I introduced myself to him and met his running partner Troy. I should have taken his picture, since I had the CrapCam, but I didn’t think about it until he was almost to the front of the line. And I certainly wasn't going to get between the man and an available toilet.
I never did find the running club, but encountered a couple of women from there, and we wished each other luck. Then I lined up and searched for KT from my old running club, who was running her first marathon. I never did find her, but some other people I know found me and we chatted until the gun went off.
Dree, a young woman I know who was running her first Grandma’s and second marathon, wanted to run with me. Her dad was running too, but he is much faster and an experienced marathoner. She was feeling under-trained and wanted to stay with me for moral support. I was afraid I’d be too slow for her, but we ran together for the first 12 miles. It was nice to have the company and we dedicated each mile to someone going through some adversity, including Back of the Pack dealing with a bad ticker, and Juls, trying to fulfill her dream of a BQ. After mile 12, Dree wanted to try to catch the 5:30 pace group. Eventually she did and their pace felt too slow so she ran ahead of them and finished in good time. I'm proud of her and more than a little envious.
“It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” as the saying goes. The weather was already warm at 6 a.m. and I didn’t even need the sweatshirt I had brought to stay warm at the starting area. The isolated thunderstorms that were predicted kept the air humid, and when the sun came out, it became downright oppressive. At the water stops, they were handing out ice cubes, which I would put under my cap and in my sports bra. The heat sapped the strength of many runners and I was doing my best to stay hydrated and keep my electrolyte levels up. Thanks to Hal Higdon’s marathon book, I learned to pinch the water cups, which made it easier to drink as I walked. And my dear husband kept popping up along the way to hand me a fresh water bottle or some gels. He kept trying to pass off a banana on me, but I couldn’t stomach that!
I know a girl who told me that Grandma’s was the most boring marathon she ever ran. I couldn’t imagine how someone could be bored during a marathon, but now I understand. As scenic as Hwy. 61 is, it got tedious. There were few spectators for the back of the pack and everyone was quiet. I think around mile 19 I called out to no one in particular, “Are we ever going to get off this highway!” A man said we were almost to London Road. Good.
There were more spectators once we got into town. The water stops were out of ice—it had all melted—so I begged some from the spectators who had coolers! Looking at my Garmin times, mile 20 is where I really started to hurt. The Mile 19 split was 15:42, and Mile 20 was 19:46. It was just around noon when I began Mile 21, and it took me over two hours to go the next 6.2 miles. Both legs ached, from my hips to my ankles. That’s probably where I started walking more than running. My husband called to find out where I was and I told him I was approaching Lemon Drop Hill. Well, I could see it, which was just beyond Mile 22, and to me that meant it was approaching.
At the top of the hill I stopped in the medical tent for some Tylenol. I don’t usually take painkillers while running, but I didn’t think I’d finish without it. I asked for some Biofreeze, but they only had ice, so I sat down and iced my legs. Yes, that was stupid to sit down. My Mile 23 split was 26:26! But I got up to finish the race. I never considered not finishing. Knowing how important a positive attitude is during a marathon, I would not let myself think any negative thoughts. Quitting was not an option! Whatever it took, I would cross the finish line. Turns out, it took a lot.
I hobbled along the next few miles, and was singing that stupid 25 Miles song. (My iPod battery died several miles back.) I counted the streets, until I finally reached Downtown Duluth. The streets were brick and I had no intention of trying to run on brick—I ached enough! The sky was turning dark over the lake and I wondered if it would hold until I finished. One official advised me that severe weather would arrive in a half-hour. Thanks, I can see that. A police patrol drove by and told me to get on the sidewalk (Grandma’s permit has a 6-hour limit.) So I got on the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians and using the wheelchair curbs so I wouldn’t have to use my knees to climb up and down. "Fifteen minutes until severe weather approaches," another official warned. Great.
And then the skies opened up. Right around Mile 25. Well, I had run in the rain plenty of times, so I knew I wouldn’t melt. I was just glad there wasn’t any hail or lightning. But water gushed down the street and my shoes were soaked. Although I was still walking, the Tylenol had kicked in and I was able to pick up the pace. A man and a woman passed me and I asked where they came from. I thought I was the only one left. They assured me there were others behind me, but I didn’t look back.
Lucky for me they were there so I could follow them. The route wasn’t clearly marked any more and I saw them ask for directions. As I passed the back of the Convention Center, a crowd of people were huddled under the roof, trying to stay dry. I assume they were runners that had already finished their race. They let out of a roar as I passed by. I was too focused to acknowledge them, but I heard them and it went straight to my heart.
I had continued with my mile dedications, for the troops, for my husband, for the volunteers, and at Mile 24, for Team Hoyt. That’s when I remembered the quote from Dick Hoyt about it takes courage to finish. It spurred me on. I was really close now. I dedicated the final mile to me. Not exactly the right spirit, but screw everyone else, this one’s for Team Dorine! Now I was almost to Canal Street, where I would turn right and head straight to the finish line. My phone rang, but I ignored it. I was sure it was my husband and I knew he’d see me soon enough. I didn’t want to take the time to mess with my phone. I just wanted to be done.
I turned down Canal Street and there was my husband, ready with his camera. The race photographer was gone and the clock was down. The chip mats were still there, though, and they chirped as I crossed. No cheering crowds. No glory. But my sweet, loyal husband stood by and waited for me. I just wanted to cry, not because I was disappointed over the time, although I was, but because I was so tired. It didn’t feel like much of a victory; it just felt empty. We walked down the deserted finish chute and someone came over and handed me a medal. Then another volunteer came and took my chip off, and directed me to where I could get my finisher’s shirt.
I picked up my gear bag and went into the changing tent. My running clothes were so drenched from the downpour, I literally had to wring them out. When I came out of the tent, I gave all my gear to my husband then he went to get the car. I tried to find some food. There was a food area, but it required tickets. I thought it was for the athletes, and I kept asking where I get my food ticket. But it was a commercial party and my money was being carried to the car. I was getting frustrated. And I’m afraid, bitchy. I wailed to a volunteer that I needed some effing food! Then I apologized for swearing. I don't like to abuse volunteers--they don't get paid enough! He pointed out a tent (no sign) where the food used to be. They were packing it up. I went over and asked if they had any bananas left. A woman reached into one of the boxes and handed me three bananas, an apple, two boxes of raisins, and a couple of Cliff Builder’s Bars. Paydirt! I thanked her and told her I’d share it with the other runners, but the only people I saw were not interested. So I ate while I waited for my husband to pick me up.
He drove me back to our hotel, which was probably 40 miles north of Duluth. I slept for about an hour, then dressed and we went out to dinner. I wore my medal like it was a pearl necklace! There were other diners wearing medals, but I was the only woman with one. A lady came by my table and congratulated me. I didn’t enlighten her on how badly I ran; I just said thank you. Then ate my chocolate dessert. :-)
Is there anyone as optimistic as a marathoner? We say things like, “I’m going to achieve a personal record,” “I’m going to qualify for Boston,” or “It’s going to be so much FUN!”
The reality of a marathon is another story.
The alarm went off Saturday morning at 4:30. I had bathed and laid out everything I needed the night before and was eating breakfast by 5 a.m. The starting line was in Two Harbors and I was staying about a half-hour north of there. I wasn’t sure how bad the traffic would be, so I wanted to get to Two Harbors early. Buses would take the runners to the starting line, which was on Scenic Highway 61, closed that morning to traffic.
My husband dropped me off at the motel where buses would pick up. I waited in the lobby and chatted with some other runners. Someone noticed my water belt and asked if I was planning to wear it for the race. I explained that I was a slow runner and how in past races the water stops would close before I got to them, so I wanted to make sure I was able to stay hydrated. “What keeps you going,” one woman asked. I didn’t understand the question--what keeps any marathoner going? “Determination,” I replied.
It seemed to take forever before the bus dropped us off at the starting area. I called Juls and we arranged to meet. As I was approaching the area, there was a beautiful young woman with a big, bright smile. It took me a moment to realize it was Juls! We walked together toward the start and my husband happened to be walking towards us with his camera, so he took our picture.
We chatted as I looked for my running group, then she assumed I’d want to stand in the port-a-potty line before the race began. This woman knows me; she reads my blog! We wished each other luck, then I went to queue up and Juls went off to find someone else she was planning to meet.
In the port-a-potty line I heard someone call out to some guy named Chris, who was standing a few people in front of me. He turned sideways and I realized it was the marathon blogger from our local paper, Chris Carr. I introduced myself to him and met his running partner Troy. I should have taken his picture, since I had the CrapCam, but I didn’t think about it until he was almost to the front of the line. And I certainly wasn't going to get between the man and an available toilet.
I never did find the running club, but encountered a couple of women from there, and we wished each other luck. Then I lined up and searched for KT from my old running club, who was running her first marathon. I never did find her, but some other people I know found me and we chatted until the gun went off.
Dree, a young woman I know who was running her first Grandma’s and second marathon, wanted to run with me. Her dad was running too, but he is much faster and an experienced marathoner. She was feeling under-trained and wanted to stay with me for moral support. I was afraid I’d be too slow for her, but we ran together for the first 12 miles. It was nice to have the company and we dedicated each mile to someone going through some adversity, including Back of the Pack dealing with a bad ticker, and Juls, trying to fulfill her dream of a BQ. After mile 12, Dree wanted to try to catch the 5:30 pace group. Eventually she did and their pace felt too slow so she ran ahead of them and finished in good time. I'm proud of her and more than a little envious.
“It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” as the saying goes. The weather was already warm at 6 a.m. and I didn’t even need the sweatshirt I had brought to stay warm at the starting area. The isolated thunderstorms that were predicted kept the air humid, and when the sun came out, it became downright oppressive. At the water stops, they were handing out ice cubes, which I would put under my cap and in my sports bra. The heat sapped the strength of many runners and I was doing my best to stay hydrated and keep my electrolyte levels up. Thanks to Hal Higdon’s marathon book, I learned to pinch the water cups, which made it easier to drink as I walked. And my dear husband kept popping up along the way to hand me a fresh water bottle or some gels. He kept trying to pass off a banana on me, but I couldn’t stomach that!
I know a girl who told me that Grandma’s was the most boring marathon she ever ran. I couldn’t imagine how someone could be bored during a marathon, but now I understand. As scenic as Hwy. 61 is, it got tedious. There were few spectators for the back of the pack and everyone was quiet. I think around mile 19 I called out to no one in particular, “Are we ever going to get off this highway!” A man said we were almost to London Road. Good.
There were more spectators once we got into town. The water stops were out of ice—it had all melted—so I begged some from the spectators who had coolers! Looking at my Garmin times, mile 20 is where I really started to hurt. The Mile 19 split was 15:42, and Mile 20 was 19:46. It was just around noon when I began Mile 21, and it took me over two hours to go the next 6.2 miles. Both legs ached, from my hips to my ankles. That’s probably where I started walking more than running. My husband called to find out where I was and I told him I was approaching Lemon Drop Hill. Well, I could see it, which was just beyond Mile 22, and to me that meant it was approaching.
At the top of the hill I stopped in the medical tent for some Tylenol. I don’t usually take painkillers while running, but I didn’t think I’d finish without it. I asked for some Biofreeze, but they only had ice, so I sat down and iced my legs. Yes, that was stupid to sit down. My Mile 23 split was 26:26! But I got up to finish the race. I never considered not finishing. Knowing how important a positive attitude is during a marathon, I would not let myself think any negative thoughts. Quitting was not an option! Whatever it took, I would cross the finish line. Turns out, it took a lot.
I hobbled along the next few miles, and was singing that stupid 25 Miles song. (My iPod battery died several miles back.) I counted the streets, until I finally reached Downtown Duluth. The streets were brick and I had no intention of trying to run on brick—I ached enough! The sky was turning dark over the lake and I wondered if it would hold until I finished. One official advised me that severe weather would arrive in a half-hour. Thanks, I can see that. A police patrol drove by and told me to get on the sidewalk (Grandma’s permit has a 6-hour limit.) So I got on the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians and using the wheelchair curbs so I wouldn’t have to use my knees to climb up and down. "Fifteen minutes until severe weather approaches," another official warned. Great.
And then the skies opened up. Right around Mile 25. Well, I had run in the rain plenty of times, so I knew I wouldn’t melt. I was just glad there wasn’t any hail or lightning. But water gushed down the street and my shoes were soaked. Although I was still walking, the Tylenol had kicked in and I was able to pick up the pace. A man and a woman passed me and I asked where they came from. I thought I was the only one left. They assured me there were others behind me, but I didn’t look back.
Lucky for me they were there so I could follow them. The route wasn’t clearly marked any more and I saw them ask for directions. As I passed the back of the Convention Center, a crowd of people were huddled under the roof, trying to stay dry. I assume they were runners that had already finished their race. They let out of a roar as I passed by. I was too focused to acknowledge them, but I heard them and it went straight to my heart.
I had continued with my mile dedications, for the troops, for my husband, for the volunteers, and at Mile 24, for Team Hoyt. That’s when I remembered the quote from Dick Hoyt about it takes courage to finish. It spurred me on. I was really close now. I dedicated the final mile to me. Not exactly the right spirit, but screw everyone else, this one’s for Team Dorine! Now I was almost to Canal Street, where I would turn right and head straight to the finish line. My phone rang, but I ignored it. I was sure it was my husband and I knew he’d see me soon enough. I didn’t want to take the time to mess with my phone. I just wanted to be done.
I turned down Canal Street and there was my husband, ready with his camera. The race photographer was gone and the clock was down. The chip mats were still there, though, and they chirped as I crossed. No cheering crowds. No glory. But my sweet, loyal husband stood by and waited for me. I just wanted to cry, not because I was disappointed over the time, although I was, but because I was so tired. It didn’t feel like much of a victory; it just felt empty. We walked down the deserted finish chute and someone came over and handed me a medal. Then another volunteer came and took my chip off, and directed me to where I could get my finisher’s shirt.
I picked up my gear bag and went into the changing tent. My running clothes were so drenched from the downpour, I literally had to wring them out. When I came out of the tent, I gave all my gear to my husband then he went to get the car. I tried to find some food. There was a food area, but it required tickets. I thought it was for the athletes, and I kept asking where I get my food ticket. But it was a commercial party and my money was being carried to the car. I was getting frustrated. And I’m afraid, bitchy. I wailed to a volunteer that I needed some effing food! Then I apologized for swearing. I don't like to abuse volunteers--they don't get paid enough! He pointed out a tent (no sign) where the food used to be. They were packing it up. I went over and asked if they had any bananas left. A woman reached into one of the boxes and handed me three bananas, an apple, two boxes of raisins, and a couple of Cliff Builder’s Bars. Paydirt! I thanked her and told her I’d share it with the other runners, but the only people I saw were not interested. So I ate while I waited for my husband to pick me up.
He drove me back to our hotel, which was probably 40 miles north of Duluth. I slept for about an hour, then dressed and we went out to dinner. I wore my medal like it was a pearl necklace! There were other diners wearing medals, but I was the only woman with one. A lady came by my table and congratulated me. I didn’t enlighten her on how badly I ran; I just said thank you. Then ate my chocolate dessert. :-)
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Oh, the Insanity
Before I start talking about ME, I want to say Good Luck to Juls. She's also running Grandma's this weekend and is hoping to qualify for Boston with this race. We're going to have a mini-RBF meetup in Duluth. I'm looking forward to meeting her.
Also, here is the picture I wasn't able to upload in my previous post. I switched to Mozilla (thanks for the tip, Back of the Pack!)
Now about me...I'm an emotional wreck! In addition to preparing for Grandma's Marathon, I'm in the process of getting my house ready to put on the market, build a house in another state, and just be a perfect wife and homemaker. On top of that "my friend" (as they used to say) came to visit. I'm stressing over the fact that I'm supposed to be relaxing this week. I have to de-clutter my house but I'd rather be swinging in a hammock.
Here's my secret confession: I want to be like Bree from Desperate Housewives. Everything in its place, perfect clothes, capable of whipping up an intimate dinner party without breaking a sweat. OK, so she turned to drinking to cope and dumped her teenage son at a gas station. But still. Instead I'm more like Lynette (only as a housewife, she's a capable executive which I never was.) Here's another confession; I once took a "which desperate housewife are you" quiz and it turned out to be Gabrielle! Not because I'm sexy, but because of the "I'll pay you to do the work for me" attitude.
Well, this has nothing to do with running. But I've been feeling overwhelmed and emotional this week. Tonight my running club had our pasta dinner and as I was saying goodnight, wishing people luck on their race, I suddenly got all choked up. I've been running with this group for three months, and even though I didn't know most of their names, I knew their faces. Plus, I probably won't be training with them after this; I'm going to run with a different group that I heard has some slower runners. I drove home along the River Road, a route that I did many of my training runs on. I guess it hit home how final this was and that I have a race in, OMG, 3 days!
I take some comfort in the fact that other marathoners are going insane this week too. It makes me feel normal. :-)
Also, here is the picture I wasn't able to upload in my previous post. I switched to Mozilla (thanks for the tip, Back of the Pack!)
Now about me...I'm an emotional wreck! In addition to preparing for Grandma's Marathon, I'm in the process of getting my house ready to put on the market, build a house in another state, and just be a perfect wife and homemaker. On top of that "my friend" (as they used to say) came to visit. I'm stressing over the fact that I'm supposed to be relaxing this week. I have to de-clutter my house but I'd rather be swinging in a hammock.
Here's my secret confession: I want to be like Bree from Desperate Housewives. Everything in its place, perfect clothes, capable of whipping up an intimate dinner party without breaking a sweat. OK, so she turned to drinking to cope and dumped her teenage son at a gas station. But still. Instead I'm more like Lynette (only as a housewife, she's a capable executive which I never was.) Here's another confession; I once took a "which desperate housewife are you" quiz and it turned out to be Gabrielle! Not because I'm sexy, but because of the "I'll pay you to do the work for me" attitude.
Well, this has nothing to do with running. But I've been feeling overwhelmed and emotional this week. Tonight my running club had our pasta dinner and as I was saying goodnight, wishing people luck on their race, I suddenly got all choked up. I've been running with this group for three months, and even though I didn't know most of their names, I knew their faces. Plus, I probably won't be training with them after this; I'm going to run with a different group that I heard has some slower runners. I drove home along the River Road, a route that I did many of my training runs on. I guess it hit home how final this was and that I have a race in, OMG, 3 days!
I take some comfort in the fact that other marathoners are going insane this week too. It makes me feel normal. :-)
Monday, June 12, 2006
Sin-full
Yesterday I did my final long run before Grandma's. The schedule called for 8-10, so we compromised with 9 miles. I ran with friends Emdi and Nee, and they kindly let me set the pace. The weather was cool, which was fine with me (I never thought I'd be saying that!) But I find it's easier to run in cooler weather rather than hot, humid climate. I originally put on long sleeves and leggings, but it wasn't that cool, so I changed into shorts and short sleeve, with a vest. I didn't need the vest.
We met at 9 a.m. at the Lake Harriet Pavillion. It's a nice bandshell overlooking the lake, with the ever important bathrooms nearby. On Sunday's in the summer they have church services, and on weeknights they have concerts. It's right by a little marina of day-sailors. No motors are allowed on the lake. In the winter there's an ice skating rink. This is also the meeting place for various 5-Ks, including the Reindeer Run in December and the Valentine's 5K in you know what month.
I got there a little early and warmed up. Then I saw my friends and we discussed what we were going to do. I debated using the bathroom for the third time in a half-hour, then decided against it. I should have known better! Oh, well.
We ran along the eastern shore of the lake, taking a short detour into the Rose Garden. Emdi's son proposed to his wife there. I've driven past the Rose Garden many times, but in the fifteen years I've lived here, have never been in them. It was a nice diversion. Then we headed south along Minnehaha Parkway. I've done lots of training runs there and enjoy this route a lot. There are trees and the paved trail hugs Minnehaha Creek. Plus it's not as crowded with runners as Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriet are. We ran a little past 4 miles, then turned around.
It was really nice to have company on a run for a change. I've trained with Emdi before and like her alot. She's the kind of person who will stay with you, even though she's capable of running faster. And she's full of interesting conversation, which makes the time go by. Nee is Emdi's co-worker and she's very nice, but young enough to be my daughter. She didn't rub it in, though. Both Emdi and Nee are triathletes and are running the Grandma's Half-Marathon on Saturday. I have a really cute picture of them, but stupid Blogger won't let me upload it. I've been trying for two days now!
As we were heading back, I was looking forward to reaching the community center. There are bathrooms there and water to refill out empty bottles. But the center is closed on Sunday. Oh no! Lucky for us, there was a park across the street which had a decent bathroom and a water fountain. Whew!
Back at the Lake Harriet parkway, we "closed the loop" by continuing clockwise. Emdi didn't like that idea, because she thought it would add more distance. But we were halfway around the lake, so it didn't really add much. Towards the end, I did some pickups. Coach Dan said we should do sprints for about 100 meters at the end of the run. I'm not sure why, but who am I to argue. I did two pickups and called it quits at 9 miles.
Afterwards, we went out for breakfast. Gosh, just like a real running group. We were in our sweaty running clothes and walked into a restaurant filled with conservative elderly people, wearing their Sunday best. They seated us in an obscure spot, but they seated us, and we had a hearty breakfast. Carbo-loading to the max. I felt compelled to explain to the teenage girl waiting on us that we were runners. After all, it was Sunday and gluttony is a sin. :-)
We met at 9 a.m. at the Lake Harriet Pavillion. It's a nice bandshell overlooking the lake, with the ever important bathrooms nearby. On Sunday's in the summer they have church services, and on weeknights they have concerts. It's right by a little marina of day-sailors. No motors are allowed on the lake. In the winter there's an ice skating rink. This is also the meeting place for various 5-Ks, including the Reindeer Run in December and the Valentine's 5K in you know what month.
I got there a little early and warmed up. Then I saw my friends and we discussed what we were going to do. I debated using the bathroom for the third time in a half-hour, then decided against it. I should have known better! Oh, well.
We ran along the eastern shore of the lake, taking a short detour into the Rose Garden. Emdi's son proposed to his wife there. I've driven past the Rose Garden many times, but in the fifteen years I've lived here, have never been in them. It was a nice diversion. Then we headed south along Minnehaha Parkway. I've done lots of training runs there and enjoy this route a lot. There are trees and the paved trail hugs Minnehaha Creek. Plus it's not as crowded with runners as Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriet are. We ran a little past 4 miles, then turned around.
It was really nice to have company on a run for a change. I've trained with Emdi before and like her alot. She's the kind of person who will stay with you, even though she's capable of running faster. And she's full of interesting conversation, which makes the time go by. Nee is Emdi's co-worker and she's very nice, but young enough to be my daughter. She didn't rub it in, though. Both Emdi and Nee are triathletes and are running the Grandma's Half-Marathon on Saturday. I have a really cute picture of them, but stupid Blogger won't let me upload it. I've been trying for two days now!
As we were heading back, I was looking forward to reaching the community center. There are bathrooms there and water to refill out empty bottles. But the center is closed on Sunday. Oh no! Lucky for us, there was a park across the street which had a decent bathroom and a water fountain. Whew!
Back at the Lake Harriet parkway, we "closed the loop" by continuing clockwise. Emdi didn't like that idea, because she thought it would add more distance. But we were halfway around the lake, so it didn't really add much. Towards the end, I did some pickups. Coach Dan said we should do sprints for about 100 meters at the end of the run. I'm not sure why, but who am I to argue. I did two pickups and called it quits at 9 miles.
Afterwards, we went out for breakfast. Gosh, just like a real running group. We were in our sweaty running clothes and walked into a restaurant filled with conservative elderly people, wearing their Sunday best. They seated us in an obscure spot, but they seated us, and we had a hearty breakfast. Carbo-loading to the max. I felt compelled to explain to the teenage girl waiting on us that we were runners. After all, it was Sunday and gluttony is a sin. :-)
Friday, June 09, 2006
Almost a Marathon
There's a song from the sixties that goes through my head on my long runs. I just Googled it to find the name of the song. The singer has been walking for three days and two nights to get home to his woman. This man knows tired! It was a hit by Edwin Starr and the name of the song is "25 Miles". Besides the motivational lyrics, it has a good beat.
Let me tell you ya'll
I, I, I, I, I'm so tired
but I just can't lose my stride
Come on feet don't fail me now
I got ten more miles to go
I got nine, eight, seven, six
I got a five more miles to go
Now over the hill just around the bend
Huh although my feet are tired I can't lose my stride
I got to keep on walkin'
I got to walk on oh ho ho
Thursday, June 08, 2006
It Takes Courage
Well, I guess the San Diego Marathon kicked a lot of RBF butts. Some, sadly, before they were even able to get to the starting line. But I learned something from each of you and will carry it with me to Grandma's. So a big, fat, CONGRATULATIONS to all of you. You trained, you ran, you rocked!
Last night was motivation night at our group. The National Running Director for LTF (we just call him Dan) joined us and we ran around the track -- three miles marathon pace with a shag in between miles. He had us play mind games. The first mile was the beginning of the race, where you feel great and you run too fast. The second was the middle of the race and he had us run too fast, then practice slowing down by shortening our stride rather than putting on the brakes. I guess that's to keep us from hurting ourselves. The final mile was Mile25 and he wanted us to GO FASTER. As if! Dan ran the final lap with me and told me when I run in a group to keep my eye on the hip of the person just ahead of me. I practiced with him and felt like a race horse being put through its paces. But it was COOL! We stayed in step the whole lap.
Back at the club, Dan gave tips and inspiration. He's full of great stories. He told us about Tony Schiller, who was racing the Ironman in Hawaii and how he had dislocated his shoulder during the bike race, then in the running segment realized that he wasn't going to win and he had gone there to WIN. Sitting down at the side of the road, he decided to just wait for the EMTs to come give him a ride to the finish. As he sat there, a man and his son came by. They were still biking. The son had Cystic Fibrosis and the Dad had to push his son in the water for 2.4 miles, then pick him up and put him on the bike (I'm not sure how), ride for 112 miles, then run a marathon while pushing the son in a carriage. This was their second Ironman attempt; they DNF the previous year because they missed the deadline in one of the segments by something like 30 seconds. They were biking and still had the marathon to run. As they passed Tony, the Dad looked at him and said, "It takes courage to finish." Tony thought about that and got up and finished the race.
This is a true story, but Dan told it better than I just did. I was trying to condense it. He said the father and son's name, but I don't remember them. I had to wipe away tears.
Before we went out to run, I expressed my nervousness about the upcoming marathon to Coach Jan. With two DNFs under my water belt, it's hard not to worry. As I was running to the track, slow and stiff, I started to question why I was even trying to run a marathon. Then I reminded myself that I better have an answer by marathon day or I'm toast. But the track workout went so well that I left feeling that a 5:30 finish was do-able. I gotta hang on to that!
Last night was motivation night at our group. The National Running Director for LTF (we just call him Dan) joined us and we ran around the track -- three miles marathon pace with a shag in between miles. He had us play mind games. The first mile was the beginning of the race, where you feel great and you run too fast. The second was the middle of the race and he had us run too fast, then practice slowing down by shortening our stride rather than putting on the brakes. I guess that's to keep us from hurting ourselves. The final mile was Mile25 and he wanted us to GO FASTER. As if! Dan ran the final lap with me and told me when I run in a group to keep my eye on the hip of the person just ahead of me. I practiced with him and felt like a race horse being put through its paces. But it was COOL! We stayed in step the whole lap.
Back at the club, Dan gave tips and inspiration. He's full of great stories. He told us about Tony Schiller, who was racing the Ironman in Hawaii and how he had dislocated his shoulder during the bike race, then in the running segment realized that he wasn't going to win and he had gone there to WIN. Sitting down at the side of the road, he decided to just wait for the EMTs to come give him a ride to the finish. As he sat there, a man and his son came by. They were still biking. The son had Cystic Fibrosis and the Dad had to push his son in the water for 2.4 miles, then pick him up and put him on the bike (I'm not sure how), ride for 112 miles, then run a marathon while pushing the son in a carriage. This was their second Ironman attempt; they DNF the previous year because they missed the deadline in one of the segments by something like 30 seconds. They were biking and still had the marathon to run. As they passed Tony, the Dad looked at him and said, "It takes courage to finish." Tony thought about that and got up and finished the race.
This is a true story, but Dan told it better than I just did. I was trying to condense it. He said the father and son's name, but I don't remember them. I had to wipe away tears.
Before we went out to run, I expressed my nervousness about the upcoming marathon to Coach Jan. With two DNFs under my water belt, it's hard not to worry. As I was running to the track, slow and stiff, I started to question why I was even trying to run a marathon. Then I reminded myself that I better have an answer by marathon day or I'm toast. But the track workout went so well that I left feeling that a 5:30 finish was do-able. I gotta hang on to that!
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Bridge to Bridge
Saturday's run was "only" 12 miles. Heh. I love being able to say that. Just a few short months ago, I was afraid of 12 miles. It feels good to see progress in my running.
We started out at 7 a.m. to beat the heat. No getting lost this time; I knew this route! Just tell me where the water stop will be. I ran up the east side of the River Road and it was joyful. As I ran north, other groups were heading south on the same road. One group was the MDRA--I don't know if they were training for Grandma's or kicking off the Twin Cities Marathon training, but there were a lot of people.
After that came another herd of runners--the Team In Training group. "Go TNT" I said as I passed them. "Whoo-Hoo" they replied. They're training for the Nike Women's Marathon and I felt envious. Marathon Envy--who knew? Maybe I can sign up for that next year.
The weather was beautiful--clear skies, 70 degrees. Rowers were slicing through the water, their coach shouting out motivation. I wondered if I would run better if I had a coach that yelled at me. Probably, but I don't really want to be yelled at.
My iPod battery was dead but that was fine. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to hear the Canada geese as they passed overhead in V formation, calling out as they flew. People who live near water dislike the geese but since I don't have to deal with goose-poop, I like them. Especially the babies, which I haven't been able to photograph yet.
We started out at 7 a.m. to beat the heat. No getting lost this time; I knew this route! Just tell me where the water stop will be. I ran up the east side of the River Road and it was joyful. As I ran north, other groups were heading south on the same road. One group was the MDRA--I don't know if they were training for Grandma's or kicking off the Twin Cities Marathon training, but there were a lot of people.
After that came another herd of runners--the Team In Training group. "Go TNT" I said as I passed them. "Whoo-Hoo" they replied. They're training for the Nike Women's Marathon and I felt envious. Marathon Envy--who knew? Maybe I can sign up for that next year.
The weather was beautiful--clear skies, 70 degrees. Rowers were slicing through the water, their coach shouting out motivation. I wondered if I would run better if I had a coach that yelled at me. Probably, but I don't really want to be yelled at.
My iPod battery was dead but that was fine. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to hear the Canada geese as they passed overhead in V formation, calling out as they flew. People who live near water dislike the geese but since I don't have to deal with goose-poop, I like them. Especially the babies, which I haven't been able to photograph yet.
We ran along the River road, from the Ford bridge to the Washington Ave. bridge, which is by the University of Minnesota campus. When I got to Washington Ave. I stopped to take a picture of the Weisman Museum. It's a modern art museum designed by Frank Gehry and built in 1993.
I ran around on the campus, trying to find a bathroom. I didn't really have to "go", but I figured I'd take advantage of the proximity to modern plumbing. Unfortunately, everything was closed! The student union didn't open until 9 a.m., and it was only 8:45. Waiting around for 15 minutes wasn't something I was willing to do, so I left.
I headed south along the East River Road, crossed at the Franklin Ave. bridge, and continued down the West River Road, which was shadier. There were a lot of bicycle riders and many of them were wearing numbers. But it didn't seem like much of a race. Later, I found out that it was a bicycle equivalent of the Race for the Cure.
Normally I eat gels for energy. But I got a sample of Shot Bloks from the nice people at Cliff Bar, so I tried it on this run. It was really good; like eating gummy candy. I'm definitely going to have some of those on the marathon. I can handle about three gels, but after that it's hard to choke them down. So it will be good to have an alternative.
The water stop was under the Lake Street bridge. My water bottle was empty but I knew I was close. I was so happy to see the familiar container! I filled the water bottle with sport drink and chomped on a few Starburst candies. But I didn't linger. I'm trying to emulate the race, where there is no resting except for the walking breaks.
As I approached the Lock and Dam, I passed some other runners going the opposite direction. It was the LTF running club from Bloomington, a nearby suburb. They ran on their own, even though they left from our club. They started later. We exchanged "Good Job" and I wondered how far they were going. By the time I realized I should have told them about the water stop, they had already passed. Turned out their coach knew about it, but they didn't run that far.
While I was running across the Ford Bridge, the Bloomington running group passed by, heading back to the club, like I was. When I arrived, they were milling around stretching and I asked the coach if they were going out for breakfast. He said yes and I met them there after showering and changing into street clothes. Next Saturday we're scheduled for 8-10 miles. And the one after that is Grandma's!
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