Race Report: Grandma's Marathon

When I was a little girl I used to walk the mile or so to the start line of Grandma's Marathon and wonder how all those men (there weren't many women back in those days) were going to make it all the way to Duluth. Little did I know that most of them did and that someday I would, too!

This year, Jessica Applebaum and Kelli Enders and I decided to make it a Thelma & Louise weekend "Up North" and have a girlie weekend around a morning of running.

We headed north from downtown Mpls at Noon on Friday and made excellent time. When we checked into the hotel, we discovered Kelli's excellent attorney negotiation skills as she made the speech "let me get this straight - you know how to *take* the reservation for the rollaway, you just don't know how to *honor* the reservation." Lo-and-behold, fifteen minutes later, said rollaway bed arrived. I love that girl.

Friday night consisted of packet pickup and a quick shopping tour at the Expo. We all scored "RunGirlRun" hats and various trinkets, along with bagels and peanut butter for the morning. We opted for an easy dinner at the Green Mill, where I discovered the best dish that has never made it to their menu - Pavarotti - penne, chicken, olive oil, and parm with herbs. Delish! Jessica polished off nearly 3 bowls of spaghetti - a feat even I would not have believed had I not seen it myself. (Note that the spaghetti comes up again later in this story.)

Friday evening ended with a pay-per-viewing of "He's just not that into you" which sparked debate about which storyline was the most interesting. (Cheaters: 2, Never Married: 1)

Saturday morning (race day) began bright and early at 4:30 AM. Ugh, that's early. Kelli, official Sherpa and injured reserve player walked us down to the bus at 5:30. She sent us off like kids going off for the first day of school and promised she'd see us later that morning on Superior Street.

The weather that morning was warm and humid, but felt fine at 6 AM. We had no idea that the half marathon weather would cause the race officials to question the safety of sending the marathoners off at 7:30. We had low risk flags at the start but my mile 16, the black flag (highest risk) came out. I felt absolutely great and was holding sub 8:45s for miles 1-20. At mile 20, my legs started to cramp and I knew I was in trouble. I was losing salt and had none to ingest, as I don't drink Accelerade, the on-course drink. I ended up walking much of the last 6 miles and finished in 4:19, 20 minutes off my "A" goal of a sub-4 hour marathon.

Given the conditions, I feel good about the finish and very good about my 20 mile posted time. A Boston is inside of me and I look forward to running at it in 2010!

Jessica finished a mere 2 minutes behind me, even though she had a massive blood blister and a gut full of spaghetti and bagels! She was an absolute trooper through it all and she would have likely beat me had she not stopped at the medic tent for Vaseline! Bravo!

We lay "legs up" for an hour or so while ingesting large amounts of Wheat Thins and Teddy Grahams, took a short nap, and then a dip in the hotel pool. That night we went down to the tent to have a beer, see the crowd and hear the band. We were the oldest people there and ended up leaving at 11 PM, in bed by 11:30.

The course was in good shape and there were no Army worms to be seen this year. I guess they'll be out in 2010-2012... blech. Nothing like running on a slimy carpet of caterpillar guts.

Number 23, done! What's next?!

WIBA 2009

Last weekend I attended the Wisconsin Ironman Brick Adventure in Madison, WI. 3 days of clinics, swimming, biking, and running on the hallowed grounds of Ironman Wisconsin.

And it was GREAT! I had some reservations... fears that I would be the slowest, least experienced triathlete... fears that no one would let me sit with them... fears that I'd arrive at those Verona hills and find myself wondering why I'd parted with $600 to ride them again in September. But... all of my fears were squashed flat! I made at least 20 new friends, discovered that I *am* actually quite strong on the bike... and those hills in Verona? Not nearly as tall or long as I had remembered.

People often tell me that I am "nuts" to do this distance triathlon stuff. They also ask "how far" and "why" a lot. I always respond the same way - - that anyone can do this "stuff" and that *that* is what training is for. WIBA 2009 proved that no matter what you come to the starting line with, there is a finish line inside each of us.

Thanks to all of those who helped put on such a fabulously fun weekend. A special shout-out to Tracy, who I've idolized from afar for 3 years... and finally got to "girlfriend hug!"

Inner Fish

Anyone who knows me how much I dislike swimming. How ironic is it then that my boyfriend is a fabulous swimmer - a competitive swimmer - a water polo goalie, specifically - the kind that goes to Pepperdine University on scholarship, nonethless?! Ah, yes, life is funny that way. Not long after we started dating, he invented what he affectionately calls "inner fish time."

Inner fish time, you ask? Yep, time in the pool. Laps back and forth, chasing the black line. Nothing but me, a whole lotta water, and a stop watch.

I have been slacking with the swim aspects of triathlon lately. I guess that makes me a duathlete who swims occasionally, right? But with Ironman just a hair over three months away, I must get into the pool and must learn to get comfortable in lycra, in chlorine, in my own head.

I swam tonight, just 35 minutes or so. I decided that my least favorite part of Inner Fish Time is the getting wet part. Once I'm wet, I'm actually okay. I sort of like the way you feel all slippery and weightless in the water. The way the water feels heavy in your hands when you find your groove. The way you can't hear the world because your ears are full of water. The way you lose track of time and sort of relax into the rhythm of back and forth, finding the wall, and back again.

So maybe there's hope for the girl who got pulled from the Heart of the Lakes tri swim.

Tonight, I kept Dara Torres in my head. I imagined how she'd make the best use of those 35 minutes. I imagined how easily technical her stroke is. I imagined what it must be like to feel more at home in water than on solid land. And then I imagined I had her muscles.

And then I decided to kick Inner Fish Time up a notch.

Race Report: Minneapolis Marathon

The inaugural Minneapolis Marathon was held on Sunday, May 31 and I was one of 1200 finishers to experience the course! What a day it was!

I drove down to my girlfriend Stacia's apartment, which is located just one block from the starting line. After tying and retying my right shoe at least two dozen times and using the bathroom to squeeze out every last drop of the morning's coffee, we were off to meet up with Jessica, who was attempting to run with a hobbled foot and a nasty head cold. I witnessed her take a Five Hour Fuel and an antihistamine within the same five minute time span. Yikes!

Race was off at 7 AM. The half marathon and full marathon started at the same time, so for the first nine miles, the race felt very large - not unlike any other large I'd run. We ran down upriver and transversed across the river before heading back over the Stone Arch Bridge and down West River Road. I was running with Jessica and her heart rate was very high. She had little drops of sweat on her skin even though it was cool outside. She knew she was in trouble so at mile 9, she peeled off into Medical to get her foot wrapped. I proceeded down toward Fort Snelling park.

The park was a nice change, for about 2 miles. Then it turned into a dark forest of dirt trails, burrs that stuck to my running shoes, and stinky algae ponds. The last 2 miles out of the park were straight uphill, which made for a long trip to mile 19. The last 6 miles were back up West River Road. I felt good until about mile 23, which started the first of three long hills. Stacia met me at mile 24.5, and she ran me in to mile 26. My goal for the day was to run a 4:20 (long slow distance training run) and I finished in 4:19. A perfect day!

Sore today, as usual. Stairs and toilets make for interesting humor. Less than 3 weeks away from Grandma's! Goal? Something between a 3:50 and a 4:00 will make me one very happy little runner.

Marathon 22 complete! Next!

The Taper Theory

I get that you're supposed to show up at a race starting line feeling good. What I don't get is why you get so irritable the week before a major race - during the "taper" - and why not working out can affect the very DNA of your personality.

I am not supposed to work out today and I do not like it. I am running in the morning, but that's like 11 hours away - an entire lifetime!

One might think that the body should wake up on race day and say "today is just like every other day, except longer", except it doesn't work that way. Instead it wakes up and says "thank goodness I get to move today because my alternate plan was to bite the head off of every person I encountered, including those who provided free, legal stimlants (Starbucks)."

Taper theory, I don't care for you much. Let me run!

How Long is a Long Run?

I'm running the Minneapolis Marathon this weekend. Why? First, it's the first one. The inaugural race. All inaugural finishers get a kick-ass jacket. Hell, that's worth the price of admission alone. Second, I am using the marathon as a training run for Grandma's Marathon on June 21. Yes, I am running a marathon in preparation of running a marathon.

Does this strike anyone else as dumb? When does a long run become a race? Can a race be a long run?

I should add that I have not sufficiently trained for the Minneapolis Marathon. After 20 marathons (add one for Ironman), I find myself cheating on the training schedule on regular occasion. I cram for marathons like one might cram for an SAT exam. Stay up all night, drink a lot of coffee, then show-and-go.

This year is an Ironman year (I find myself saying that a lot recently and rarely believing it as I hear my mouth form the words) which means I'll train crazy amounts of hours and race as often as I can, so that my body can wake up on Ironman morning and say "I know how to do this". I ran a marathon the last time I trained for Ironman, which translates into "lather, rinse, repeat". I only know to do what worked last time.

This week, I only have two runs to complete - a ten miler on Thursday morning, and a six miler on Friday morning. Saturday will be an off day, and Sunday is the long run, aka "the Marathon". So just how far does a run have to be before it's labeled long? I guess it depends on the runner, and the day, and the year. For this runner, on Sunday, in an Ironman year, a long run will be a training run 26.2 miles long.

Those .2 miles are going to be a bitch.

Again

T minus 179 days. Training for Ironman 2009 started yesterday, rather quietly. I ran for all of 45 minutes before the sun came up. Toward the end of my run, I tried to focus my thoughts toward what this meant - - to do this again. My mind came up blank, which suprised me. I've talked about going back to avenge the course - to reclaim the time Mother Nature took from me. I've talked about Ironman becoming a part of my identity and needing an identity boost. I've talked about "forward" being the only direction I truly understood and felt comfortable with. I know in time my reasons for "again" will become clear. Maybe it will come to me on my bike in Watertown, near a pasture full of cows. Maybe it will come to me at the south end of Lake Harriet, as I'm filling my FuelBelt with rusty water from the pump. Maybe it will come to me when I'm halfway up the Verona hills on race day.

Regardless of why I'm doing this again, I am. It doesn't make me crazy. It makes me just sane enough to be able to ask myself the question and courageous enough to face the answer.