Disney's Tinkerbell Pixie Dust Challenge- May 9 & 10, 2015

I've really been dragging my feet on blogging, and part of the reason is that I like to post in some type of chronological order, and I wasn't ready to talk about the Disney Land Pixie Dust Challenge that took place over mothers day weekend at Disney Land in Anaheim California.

Prior to registering for this race, I had actually sworn off Run Disney. I am certain that saying this will get me drawn and quartered, but I am really not a fan. My first half marathon was a Run Disney. I've done a number of their events before, and I really have been left with a bad taste in my mouth. Now before anyone tars and feathers me, let me explain... I am a solo runner. I like races because I can be with other people and get the crowd experience, but Disney races are over crowded. The course in Orlando really cannot support the 30,000 + runners that it hosts, there are bottle necks, and the crowds are intense. I am really NOT a crowd person. The Miami Marathon sees the same number of participants every year, and the course doesn't even feel a quarter as crowded. Then factor in the money. A Disney race is expensive. And with the fees, it feels like a lot of the participants feel a sense of entitlement. Yes, you are entitled to get a good race experience and entitled to have a great time, but you are NOT entitled to some of the shenanigans that I have seen at Run Disney events.  So all that being said, I am not a huge fan.

But a dear friend of mine is. She came out for Wine and Dine last year (yes, the race that we essentially swam because it was raining that hard), and then she came to visit me not long after that to defend her doctoral dissertation. She told my darling husband that she was running the Pixie Dust Challenge in the spring, and my husband thought that (although I had sworn off Disney except for a repeat of Wine and Dine this coming November) I should join her on the trip. Except the registration had come and gone already, so I might have been out of luck.

The following week, I got an email from my friend saying that she had found a charity group that I could partner with in order to get a race bib. I should probably also say that I am not a big fan of charity groups because usually they take a huge cut of the money raised for frivelous stupidity like airfare, travel and lodging, and astronomical salaries... but I looked into the group she recommended to me.

The name of the group is Team Muscle Makers, and as it turns out, they are absolutely fantastic. Their fundraising requirements per person are reasonable, and they are able to keep them reasonable by not including airfare, travel, and lodging. But best of all... the organizers of the charity do not take salaries. YES! you read that right. They donate 100% of the monies raised to the Rady Children's Hospital in San Diego where there is a state of the art muscle disease clinic that provides care absolutely free to their patients... which included the son of one of the founders of the charity group. I have to say, I was nervous signing away my soul to raise almost $1,000 for this group of strangers, but they made the entire process seamless. And I walked away with dozens of new friends. In fact, although I swore off Run Disney races, and I don't need to run California again for my goal of all 50 states, I am actually considering partnering with this group again in 2017 for another charity race.

The weekend itself left me with mixed feelings. I was dealing with a lot of stuff in my personal life in relation to my job. I didn't have a lot of time to take away from Florida because it was the middle of the semester, so it was a super quick trip. As soon as my plane landed, I actually had more work stuff dumped on me via email, and I spent the weekend juggling work stress and frustration, all while spending time with my best friend in one of the happiest places on earth. Because of this crazy stress, we didn't spend a lot of time at the parks between races, and most of the weekend was a blur. What I do remember was that packet pickup was much messier than it would be at a Florida Run Disney event, so that left me feeling a little nervous.

yes, that's me. 

But the morning of the 10K, all those jitters went flying out the window. The pre-race party and the corral system were absolutely spectacular, I didn't feel overwhelmed by crowds, I had the space to breathe, and I was relaxed... unlike the other Florida events where the crowds get me antsy.

My friend had a bad experience a few months prior while she was attempting the Goofy half marathon & full marathon challenge. She got swept during mile 19 or something during the full marathon on day 2... so she was nervous about attempting another 2 day challenge... but I've done these before and knew how to tackle back-to-backs. The number one rule is to start SLOW.

The first mile or so of the 10K is outside of the park, then you run through the park for a few miles, and finish with another mile or so outside of the park. It seriously went by in a blur. I think I can chalk that up to my frustration over my job situation. We finished in a respectable time, and I was happy... although, there really wasn't much post race nutrition available as there had been a fiasco with a recalled item in the snackbox. Oh well.

10K
Gun: 2:01:01
Chip: 1:31:03
Pace: 14:39

On Day 2 (half-marathon day), my friend woke up with some serious stiffness from her fibromyalgia. And then combine that with her fears of being swept, and she was a jittery mess. I vaguely remember it being chilly at the start, but I don't much remember.We took a pre-race photo with other TMM runners, then chatted with them in the starting corrals. The plan was to start slow, and I told my friend to stick with me and I could keep her ahead of the balloon ladies and free of being swept. We started slow. REALLY REALLY SLOW.

We were already in the last corral, but toward the front of the pack in the corral, but we started just over 17 minutes per mile. The first couple of miles were once again on city streets, followed by 6 or 7 in the parks, then another few miles on city streets at the tail end. My friend immediately started to panic when she looked at her Garmin to see more than 17 minutes per mile... but I just told her to relax and trust my process. She was sore, so she didn't have much choice. By mile 1.5, we limbered up a little. I picked up the pace to bring us to just slightly over 16 minutes per mile. Then by the time we entered the parks, we were closing in on just under 16 minutes per mile average.

Once in the parks, I tuned out my own aches. I think that actually translated into tuning out a lot of the parks too. To be honest, the parts of the course that I remember the best were actually outside of the parks on the city streets. My friend was still in a lot of pain, so I pulled a few steps in front of her to help encourage her to keep pace in order to talk to me. It worked. by mile 7, although she was still in a lot of pain, out pace was closing in on 15:30 overall.

Around mile 8, we came across a fellow #Run3rd runner who was having a bad go of it. I encouraged her to pace with us, which she did. We exited the parks and were back on the streets of Anaheim and I realized I had a lot of gas left in the tank. Out of nowhere, I started pushing the pace even more. The 3 of us were single file along the median of the city streets, and we were suddenly flying past other runners who were struggling. I know we were a sight... I was barking out commands to them about being strong and ignoring the pain, one might have thought I was a drill sergeant in a previous life... and I looked at my Garmin and realized that our overall pace was dropping to 15:20, and realized that with close to 4 miles left, I could PR.


And then with the encouragement of my friends, I did something that I never thought that I would do.

I abandoned them.

I was going to chase that PR. And I was going to get it.

Everything was blur. I had 4 miles to get that PR that I had been chasing for almost 2 whole running seasons. I vaguely remember passing people that I knew and saying hi, but other than that, everything else was so far in the periphery I can't even begin to explain what was going through my mind.

I was shocked out of my blurred thinking about a half a mile before the finishline. I looked at my Garmin and saw that I had already registered 13.1 miles, and I had indeed broken my PR... at least according to my Garmin. And it was like the wind was just sucked right out of me as I realized that the finishline was still so far away. I was devastated. I wanted to do nothing more than cry and throw myself down on the ground and cry some more. I had gotten my PR, but it wouldn't count because the course was registering much longer than my watch.

this is actually a pic from day 1, see? shoes still here.

I crossed the finishline with tears in my eyes, frustrated but determined. Next time, I would get that PR. If I did it once, I could do it again.

And then I lost my shoes.

But that's a story for another time.


Half Marathon
Gun: 3:51:07
Chip: 3:18:46

Half Marathon #38
State #14

Disney Wine and Dine- November 8, 2014

By now, I am sure that I am the only one under the sun who blogs and who hasn't yet done a recap from the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon on November 8, 2014.

Or as some people affectionately call it: Splash and Dash, 2014.

Or as I lovingly refer to it: that character building half marathon where I almost got hypothermia.

Regardless of what I call it, it was a fabulous race... despite the rain, despite the cold, despite the illness that followed it, and despite the fact that it was a race put on by Disney.

Yes, you heard that right. I am probably one of the few people that I know that actually hates, loathes and abhors races put on by Disney. Yeah, I am probably going to get banned from Disney for life for saying that, but whatever, it is what it is.

I started my running journey with Disney. I did the Expedition Everest race twice. I did my first half marathon during marathon weekend at Disney, and I did the Glass Slipper Challenge there last year. But after that, I said I would never do it again. The cost is the biggest issue for me. I'm not made of money, and I have been finding that the prices just skyrocket for anything having to do with The Mouse. Usually the support at Disney races is superb, and the energy from the crowd really helps to motivate, but there are TOO many participants. The courses tend to bottleneck, the people are irritable, and I almost feel like there is a sense of entitlement emanating off of the participants: an entitlement that really seems to have no place at "The Happiest Place on Earth."

To be fair, not all of the participants are like that. And in the defense of many, I would say that people deserve to feel entitled after paying the equivalent of the college education for their first born child in order to participate in the race. Further, many people choose Disney as their first race, and they may not fully understand race ettiquette, or they may be just doing the race for fun because MICKEY... thus they don't really respect the mileage, but whatever.

All of these things combined are what contributed to my swearing off of Disney races altogether last February.

But then my dear friend Sarah said that she wanted to train to run a half marathon. And if I did Wine and Dine with her, it would hopefully coincide with the upcoming defense of our doctoral dissertations (which it did, sort of). So my friend from out of state wanted to go, and not wanting to pass up an opportunity to spend time with her, I gritted my teeth and we planned a 5 day trip: complete with special meals at restaurants that we had always wanted to go to, character breakfasts, hidden bars, and the wine and dine festival at Epcot. Running a half marathon while I was there seemed like the least I could do was promise my first born to the Disney Debt Collectors and partake in all of the other fun events that my friend planned.

We had planned to dress as the girls from the Celebrate a Dream parade, but once in Orlando for the weekend, we realized that it was going to be too cold. While Sarah sat up late one night editing her dissertation, I slaved over the sewing machine finishing our costumes... which we almost scrapped at the last minute because weather forecasts were predicting very cold temperatures and sporadic rain.

Sporadic my butt. It felt like It stopped raining a for a little while at the staging area before the corrals, but once we got to the corrals (with ponchos on over our costumes which were over some warm weather gear we had purchased at WalMart at the last minute), it was a monsoon. We sat in the corrals and shivered as we waited for our wave to be released.

The race itself was a blur. The crowds of spectators weren't as big as they were for other races, but I think that had to do with the monsoon dumping Gallons of water on us. The support from volunteers was (like expected) spectacular. What surprised me was that the course wasn't as packed with participants as other events. Instead of 35K participants, it was closer to 14K. And that made a huge difference in maneuverability (although there was still some bottlenecking in Animal Kingdom). I absolutely loved that the race happened at night. I loved running though the Osborne Spectacle of Lights. And I am sure the after party at Epcot would have been wonderful had we gone, but our lips were already turning blue (no joke!).

On the other hand, the cold was a problem, but the rain was worse. I heard someone (I don't remember who) say that the only thing you could compare it to would be standing in your shower in your running clothes with the water on full blast on COLD for 3 hours and trying to run... and I think that's fairly accurate. With that much water, the roads were oily and slick, I was worried about my footing for miles at a time, and it was hard to keep up morale. I was lucky to have one of my best friends by my side, otherwise I might have gotten on the but with other people as we reached mile 6... people that were holding up fairly well pace wise, but who were so down-trodden from the weather.

Strangely, despite finishing well over our intended finishtime, and despite being so cold that we shivered for days afterward and had other symptoms of early onset hypothermia for the next 24 hours, Sarah and I agreed that this is a race that we would definitely be down for trying again.

And this is coming from the girl who said she would never do another Disney race again.*

I don't have any finishline photos because we were so sick we had to rush back to the hotel, so I'll just leave you with this blue-lipped one from right underneath the Peace On Earth sign... fitting for 2 girls who met while on a journey to become Doctors of Peace, right?

Clock 4:15:55
Net 3:43:53
Place 11334
Div 1351
Gender 7437
5K 46:58
10K 1:38:51
15K 2:34:16
Character Building: Priceless.

*I have also now committed to running the Disneyland Tinkerbell Challenge with Team Muscle Makers as a charity entrant. I swear, my opinion of Disney races may have been seriously altered.

Disney Princess Weekend, Princess Half Marathon - February 23, 2014

This is post 2 of my recap from Disney's Glass Slipper Challenge of a 10K on day 1 and a half marathon on day 2. Part one can be found here.

I've got to say, this was a tough race, and I wasn't feeling it from the moment that we returned to the hotel room after the 10 K the previous day. I was in a funk. My foot was bothering me, and the humidity from the day before had really gotten to me. I think I had also overdosed on my albuterol during the race which also can lead to a lot of self-loathing. I had been texting with my friend Julia the night before the race, telling her that I wasn't feeling it... and was actually considering not going to the startline the following day.

But of course, I set my alarm anyway, and that 2am wakeup call came, and I was wide awake and ready to give it the good-ole-college-try. I had hoped that if I repeatedly told myself I was going to be ok, and I was going to have a good time... that I actually might start manifesting that as reality. But the minute my feet touched the floor, I knew that there may be trouble brewing. That pesky heel pain was back, though at a very dull achiness, but this was certainly not a good sign. I got myself ready, had a good cry, then woke the other girls up to begin the day.

We arrived at the start line very early, and were all so exhausted that we cat-napped in the car for a little bit. I had made plans to meet up with some people before the race, but we wound up blowing them off to steal the extra relaxation time. Brina and I were in a higher corral than Kelly and Michelle, but Brina really wanted to share the race experience with them, so she moved back. I was concerned that with the foot pain I was already having, I might lose my pace and run the risk of being swept, So I split off from them and headed to my corral alone. I still wasn't feeling it and was considering getting out of the corral altogether, but then I ran into someone I knew in passing from facebook who was running her first half marathon, so I stayed in the corral. I have to say, that I really liked Disney's new corralling system where the corrals are smaller and the gap between them is only 2 minutes... it made the start line process much more bearable, and soon it was our turn for our send off. Unlike the day before where the runners in my corral moseyed through the start at a snails pace causing an intense bottleneck, during the half, there was running from the start, and I had a little more room to maneuver.

Like most halves where I start the race with a few minutes of running before breaking into my run/walk/run intervals, I got 5 full minutes of running in straight out of the gate. I'm used to having some arch pain during my first long run period, but this day was different. Every time my right foot hit the ground, I got not only the shooting pain up through the trigger point in my heel, as well as a sharp pain in the outside of my ankle.

That ankle pain was ultimately the pain that brought me to the doctor last summer because over the course of a run, it had me worrying that I had fractured a bone in my ankle. It turned out not to be broken, and was instead swelling inside one of the bones in my ankle, but was left inappropriately treated for months and we only found out what was wrong with it this past December when I found a new podiatrist/orthopedic surgeon. But I digress. What you need to know here is that the pain I hadn't felt in this intensity for over 5 months was back with a vengeance. Normally the pains that I feel when starting out on a run will subside by the time I hit 10 minutes into a run, but these pains weren't subsiding... and in fact were getting worse the further I went.

At that point, I REALLY wasnt feeling the race. The self-loathing began in earnest. Crowds have a tendency to make me angry, so being in a field of 30,000 racers wasn't making this experience any easier. And on top of this, the fog wasn't lifting (fog also makes me nervous, I can't explain it, so please don't judge), it was really hot, and the humidity was hovering somewhere around 96-98%. This was NOT fun, and I soon made the informed decision to slow myself down to a walking pace. Even walking, I was passing people left and right and getting stuck behind large groups of women who were walking 6 and 7 abreast at a slower clip than I was... again, increasing my frustrations. I tried to put on some soothing music to calm my nerves, and that worked for the most part, at least until I got to the parts of the course where there were extreme bottlenecks, where we had to take the cloverleaf interchanges. These stretches of road do vile things to my feet and ankles because of the extreme camber. But I kept going.

I had hoped to get in some character stops, but every time I passed one, the lines were ridiculously long. Because my pace was already so slow, I didn't want to lose any more precious minutes of the race and add to my risk being swept. I did stop in Magic Kingdom to wait in line for a photo in the alcove in front of the castle, but that ate up at least 5 minutes... and left me feeling more anxious.

Not anxious enough to not stop and make a pressed penny later in the park or take a picture of myself in the stockades near the Haunted Mansion, though. I also stopped to take picture of me pulling the sword out of the stone, but I accidentally jumped the very short line here, and felt awful about it for the rest of the race. Oops. Sorry.

The rest of my time out there passed in a flurry. I kept moving. One painful step in front of another. Zoning out. I was emotional and wanted to cry. I found myself asking why I do this at all. I was sad and hurting physically and mentally. By mile 9, it was taking every fiber of my being to keep going because I just didn't care anymore. Only twice have I ever thought about taking a DNF at a race... once last year at my terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad race at Singer Island which was brutally hot, and once at the brutally cold race in Albion, Montana.... but this would be number 3. And this time, the desire to just give up was worse than those two events. This time I found myself saying that after this race not only would I be done with running Disney, but I would probably be done with running altogether. I found myself realizing that this wasn't fun. And if I'm not having fun, why even bother?

I told myself I could revisit the idea of quitting in another half mile, and kept going. Somehow a half mile later, when still questioning quitting, I gave myself another half mile. and from there, it was half mile to half mile. I could make the decision later. And somehow I found myself rounding the corner and seeing my favorite sight ever.

The gospel choir.

There is something to be said about that gospel choir. During my first half marathon, I saw that gospel choir. Being Jewish, I am not sure that I believe in the idea of heaven the way that many Americans do... but seeing that choir was the closest thing to heaven I had ever felt.... and during this race, it was no different. I knew that the finish was right around the corner, but these singers took away much of the self-hatred that I had been simmering in for the previous 13 miles. If asked, I'd probably tell people that my absolute favorite part of the Disney race experience is this choir, and that experiencing the crowds and bottlenecking on the course is ALL worth seeing and hearing this choir. It gave me the strength that I needed to push myself forward through the finishline.

And hug Mickey Mouse when I got there.

Net- 3:51:51
Pace 17:42/mile

Definitely not the greatest, but even with all the stops for photos on the course, also not the worst.

Half #19 done!

Now to get that swelling under control before deciding whether I will participate in half #20.

Disney Princess Weekend, Enchanted 10K - February 22, 2014

It was going to be a long weekend. I'd run back to back (x6) races before, but struggling with Bronchitis last week, and still feeling iffy on my foot at times, I knew that the dreaded 2am wakeup call for the first race in the Disney Glass Slipper Challenge would come too early.

It was a girls weekend with my friend Brina, Michelle (her best friend growing up), and Michelle's cousin Kelly (who believe it or not, is a legitimate reigning beauty queen formerly holding the title of "Mrs. Arkansas Woman" and currently holding the title of "Ms. Woman World Elite Grand Champion"). I've got to say, these were absolutely amazing women, with such amazing stories to hear, and though we probably stayed up way too late each night (considering we had 2am wakeup calls), I wouldn't have had it any other way. But still, it was hard to raise myself up out of that bed in the morning. Anyway, I digress.

We got up early, got dressed and headed off to the start line. Like always with the Disney races I have experienced, the crowds were monstrous. We stopped for a quick photo standing in front of the start line, and then trekked over to the start line party where we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

By the time we were allowed into the corrals, my feet were already on fire from standing around so much! Brina and I were in a different corral than Michelle and Kelly. The plan was for Michelle and Kelly to run separate, but for Brina and I to run together. You know what they say about the best laid plans, right?

I had never run a 10k before. Going into this event, I knew that I severely disliked the 5k distance (because believe it or not, it always feels so God-awful long), but I didn't know what to expect for a 10k. I know, I know, the next day would be my 19th half marathon, and half marathons are considerably longer than 5ks, but still... there is something about the shorter distances that gets to me... perhaps that it really takes me a few miles to feel like I even want to be out there, I don't know.

Getting ready to start, I was feeling jittery, yet excited from the pre-race atmosphere. As our corral was moving up to the start line, I realized I had to use the bathroom. I always have to use the bathroom right before a race, but have learned that this is just nerves and I quickly lose the urge once I get moving, so I thought little of it. I reminded myself to calm down, took my inhaler and before I knew it, the fireworks signifying our start were going off.

As soon as Brina and I crossed the start line, we were shocked. It didn't feel like a race start. People were just moseying across the start line like a herd of cattle, slower than anything I had ever seen or experienced before. And this herd never seemed to break up and actually pick up speed. We darted and weaved. Brina would bounce through a group of people and I would do my best to follow, or at least keep her within a couple arm's distances away. At multiple points we were grabbing one another to steer through this crowd. Not only was it annoying, it was downright dangerous. Not even 10 feet into the race, we watched 2 people who were immediately in front of us collide and fall down, leaving us to jump around them lest we be taken out with them. Yikes! I knew the field for the race was ridiculously large and that the course would be packed, but this was something else entirely.

We had started near the back of our corral, and passed probably 3/4 of the people we started with before we even got to 3/4 of a mile... but the crowds never seemed to let up. And on top of the super slow pace, people were stopping in the middle of the right-of-way to take photos and ooh and aah over the Disney eye-candy. By mile 2, the pack had spread out enough for me to get a decent run/walk/run interval going and I was at my pre-injury pace, albeit wheezing very loudly, and coughing up a lot of gunk. I could tell that Brina was getting impatient with me for not being able to keep up, and for continually losing her in the crowd, so I asked her to go along without me, which she did.

And then something amazing happened. We hit a very dark area of the course and over the sound of my music, I started to hear something. It was the strangest sound, so I pulled my earbuds out, to take it all in. It was silence. People had stopped talking, and the course was almost silent except for the sound of sneakers hitting the pavement all around me. I had never heard anything like this before, and it was totally surreal. Unfortunately it didn't last long because we were soon at a water station and the chatter began, but I would have dealt with the insane crowds again and again in order to just experience this sound again. It's funny. I paid all this money for a Disney race, and the one experience from this event that will probably stick with me forever is that moment on an access road without music or entertainment, and just the sound of feet.

Pretty soon, I was entering into Epcot's World Showcase near China. I rounded the corner and saw the flaming pillar and got excited. I'd never run through Epcot before, so this was definitely a first. And while the World Showcase was an awesome experience, with 98% humidity, a fog that hadn't yet lifted, and the heat index rising, I was having more and more difficulty catching my breath. What's more, the ground in the World Showcase was damp and slicker than a freshly surfaced ice rink. I knew that I needed to protect my feet, and I my steps became even more tentative. We exited Epcot through the Disney Boardwalk. In all my times going to Disney, I don't think I've ever been to the Disney Boardwalk, and it was a really neat experience. Running on the boards was sweet relief to my feet and bad ankle after the slickness of the World Showcase, but once again, the participants were significantly bottle-necking. I think on my next trip to Orlando that I may want to visit the Boardwalk again to explore a bit... but again, I'm digressing.

Leaving the Boardwalk, I became acutely aware that I had I still had to use the restroom. I was about 5 miles in at this point, and right on pace, so I kept chugging along. The breathing was getting more and more difficult and the pain was amping up in my bad foot, but I kept pushing. I was going to finish strong. The course took us back through Epcot and around Spaceship Earth. And then the cramping started. I had to go to the bathroom so bad I was almost doubled over in pain. I knew I could push it and make it to the finishline, but waves of nausea were threatening. So I made a bee-line to the nearest bathroom...

At something asinine like mile 5.8 or 5.9.

In a 10k race, this is the equivalent of stopping right before the finishline. The entire time I was in the bathroom, I was beating myself up. Obviously, I am my own worst enemy here, because the stop was REQUIRED, but still... I was taking every opportunity to be mean to myself. Personal note to self: be gentler on myself in the future.

I came out of the bathroom and wanted to cry. Disney races are so crowded that most people know not to count on them to get a personal record, but somehow, through it all, I was right on track for one. And I had thrown it all away, in the blink of an eye.

But I finished, and in the end, I guess that's all that really matters. I got the same medal as everyone else. And I also got some personal knowledge to boot. I'm not a big fan of the 10k distance.

Chip - 1:41:57
Pace - 16:27/Mile.

Day one of Glass Slipper Challenge finished. The Half the next day wouldn't be as "easy" on me.

Sick little princess

Just a quick little update as I prepare to head off to Orlando for the Walt Disney World Princess Half Marathon weekend and the Glass Slipper challenge (a combination of a 10K on day one, and a half marathon on day 2). I am SUPER STOKED about this much needed girls weekend away, spending time at Disney World's Epcot and Magic Kingdom, and  the actual races.

If you remember, I was supposed to run the Disney Full Marathon back in January, but my foot injury prevented me from participating. I left the weekend happy to have supported my friends, but sad that I wasn't able to enjoy all of the RunDisney festivities.

I feel like this is my time to get my RunDisney fix. a much needed RunDisney fix.

So, I'm all packed and ready to go. But I'm bringing a whole lot more stuff than I had planned.

A whole extra bag.

My bad of drugs.

Lots, and lots of drugs.

Because, yep. I'm sick again.

Turns out that although I felt great for the majority of last week, and although I made it through the Ft. Lauderdale A1A half marathon on Sunday without any problems... I never really kicked the crud that I picked up during marathon weekend as my lovely souvenir.

Apparently it just went into hiding and came back no less than 20 minutes after crossing the finishline at the race. Except now, instead of a sinus infection, it is very clearly bronchitis with asthmatic symptomology. I feel like that PSA about asthmatic children with the fish flopping around out of water.


Which poses an interesting situation for me. Of course I am going to listen to my body... but I am also going to cross my everything that the medications work fast... because if there is one thing that I have tons of experience with... it is asthma and bronchitis.

Up until I started this whole running thing 2 years ago, I let breathing problems dictate what I couldn't do. I really struggled with running and calling myself a runner because my whole life I had been told I couldn't... and now, going into this weekend... I am finding myself in the same old battle of feeling like my breathing will hold me back.

I could use all the positive juju I can get right now. Because I want to be a Disney Princess.

Disney's Glass Slipper Challenge

After last year's half marathon experience, I had said that I would never run another long distance race at Disney... but then I went back on my vow and chose to register for the 2014 WDW Marathon.

Part of my decision to register for the WDW Marathon was because I wanted to see if I actually could run 26.2 miles (in a row), and I knew that doing it at Disney would allow me hard corrals which would allow me a little extra time if I started toward the front of the corrals.

The other part of my decision came from the sheer joy of spending uninterrupted quality time with my dear friend Brina.

When I suggested running the marathon, Brina really didn't seem all that interested. She had run a marathon before, and hadn't overly enjoyed the experience (because she ran by herself?). But she liked the idea of having a friend to share the experience with if she did it again. It didn't take much arm twisting, and eventually I convinced her that she wanted to do it with me, and we registered.

The half-serious (but not quite joking) agreement that we made was that she would do the marathon (that she claimed that she didn't want to do, but I believe she was only half-serious about not having interest in), but in exchange, I would register for a race that I wasn't all too keen on, if she really wanted to do it.

But then I started half joking about doing the Center of the Nation series (and adding the Montana Half Marathon to it for a total of 6 half marathons in 6 days), and somehow I sort of wound up roping her into doing those races as well. And while I would never force her into doing races that she didn't want to do, it becomes very clear that when it comes to choosing the events we participate in together... I seem to be the bad influence (always picking ridiculous goals and pushing for more and more).

Brina is perfect Princess, meaning she has run the Disney Princess Half every year since it was introduced. I knew she wanted to run the Princess half marathon all along, and we had planned for me to join her. But about a month ago, Run Disney announced that in addition to their family 5K and the half, they were going to add in a 10K race and create a 2 race challenge called the Glass Slipper Challenge, where runners would tackle 10K on day 1 and the half marathon on day 2... for a total of 19.3 miles at Disney (and 3 medals).

Of course it sounds crazy.

Not quite as crazy as 78.6 miles in 6 days, but still pretty crazy.

So of course we are in.

Today, the Disney Princess race registration becomes available to the general public. Being an annual pass holder allowed me early registration last week, and because we were both afraid that the Glass Slipper would sell out early, Brina and I jumped at the opportunity to register.

It is going to be crowded. Probably much more crowded than I would normally like, but I'll get a girls weekend out of the deal... and I'll get to represent my favorite Disney princess.

Yep, that's right. When you register, you choose your favorite Disney princess, and her likeness is printed on your bib.

Now I'll just have to come up with a cute costume to represent her.

WDW Expedition Everest - May 4, 2013

No matter how you cut it, running at Disney World can be expensive. For people who have never run at Disney before, or for those who are in their first year of running at Disney, perhaps the costs don't really seem that bad...

But for those who have been involved with running at Disney the past couple of years, it becomes even more apparent just how money hungry that Disney seems to be. I suppose they have a great marketing plan. They realize that if they raise the prices and allow more people into the races, they will make more money because... well... they are Disney and people just love the Disney brand.

For me, I'm just not sure its worth it anymore... I mean, for the price of one of their half marathons, I could afford entry to 2 or 3 half marathons elsewhere. The Expedition Everest 5K Scavenger Hunt (last year) cost about what an early registration to a half marathon at a non-Disney venue would be, but I could justify that because this race (unlike other Disney events) came with admission to an after hours party in Animal Kingdom.

But then this year, they raised prices again. And it cost us $45 more per person. And then it became really hard to justify, because with 2 people, that is an additional $90 over last year... and that itself is a half marathon registration. Then lets not forget hotel, travel, food and drinks while in Orlando... and it just all adds up. Is that really worth it for a 5K?

Ray and I with friends Kevin and David

On the other hand, I have a soft spot for the Expedition Everest 5K... While not my first 5K, it was the first 5K I ran that gave a finishers medal to participants, that had an expo, and that was kinda a big deal. While I didn't consider myself a runner when I ran Expedition Everest last year (and I still struggle with that label now), this was the first time I ever felt as if I could really become a runner, and as if I belonged in the running community, regardless of how slow I was going.

So when it came time to register for the Expedition Everest race, we jumped on it. We realize that by next year we will probably be priced out of this race altogether, and that is OK. But this year, we chose to return to it... And I am happy that we did.

In the weeks leading up to this race, I had fantasized about running the entire 5K run portion of the course and getting a better time than last year... but life had different plans for us. Just the week before we went to Orlando, Ray hurt his ankle trying to scare a possum off of our porch, and he still wasn't able to put a lot of weight on it. Then the day of the race, as we walked around the Magic Kingdom, I watched his limping getting progressively worse. We were able to tape his ankle up tightly, but by the time we started to get into the starting corrals, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do much more than walk.

This was heartbreaking to me, and he knew it. And in the end, he pushed himself far harder than he should have so that I could try for a better time than last year, but I am getting ahead of myself a little.

Kevin, David, Ray, Me and Carra at the start

What you need to know is that after saying hello and goodbye to our other friends who were running this race (including running into a girl I went to boarding school with when I was a freshman in highschool), we got to our corral somewhat late.

I'm a slow runner, so it didn't seem strange that we were in the very last corral, but I also knew slow runners who were 3 or 4 corrals ahead of us. It kind of felt like everyone was placed into the wrong corrals to start. And because we got into our corral so late, we were at the very back of the corral, with only a handful of people behind us. I was worried about this, particularly as our corral was inching forward to the start line and we were already seeing runners crossing the finish-line at the other side of the parking lot.

But the worry was for naught. When our wave started, Ray and I started strong. We didn't use our interval timer, but opted instead of run until we couldn't anymore, then slow to a brisk walk, then return to running when the pain subsided. This strategy, while not ideal for a long distance run, seemed to work out OK at this race.

The course was packed. I got a little frazzled when at the quarter mile mark there was a really large woman off to the side of the course having trouble standing up and her friends were screaming for medical (read: screaming bloody murder), but I had to shake it off. She really wasn't in any dire emergency from what I could tell, and so we kept going. Then I was a little frazzled around the 1 mile mark where the course bottle-necked a bit.

People go to Disney races and don't treat it like a real running event. They forget that you have to train (like the woman with the medical emergency who I believe entered the race without any prior training and was enticed by something Disney), and they also forget road etiquette. I just can't understand how people think that it is ok to walk 6, 7, or 8 abreast during a road race when the path bottlenecks to a point that is only about 4 feet wide. You tell them repeatedly on your left and they refuse to move. It doesn't make sense.

The race itself was fairly uneventful, although unlike last year, because I was running without headphones, I was much more aware of course entertainment, music, other runners, and my own breathing. We started at the end of our corral but quickly found ourselves passing other runners. Before we knew it, we were crossing the finish-line for the run portion and entering into the scavenger hunt portion. After the last half marathon and the way everything that could have gone wrong did, It was nice to have a really mellow run-of-the-mill event.

When we got to the scavenger hunt portion though, Ray's ankle was not wanting to cooperate anymore. Whereas he had been grinning and bearing it up until that point, he could barely hobble along, and just putting partial pressure on his foot was making him wince in pain. He's tough though, he didn't complain. But he also wasn't doing that great a job in hiding his pain any longer.

The clues for the scavenger hunt were tougher than last year (I thought) and we struggled a little with them, but all things being equal, we still had an awesome time.

Our final time was slower than last year, but if I'm being honest, I have to say that our race portion of the event was faster than last year. Guess our bodies move faster but our brains move slower!

Splits
5K- 44:30
Search time- 49:10
Chip time- 1:33:40

Even though we started at the end of the final corral, we somehow managed to pick up speed and came in 724/987 for co-ed teams. Color me impressed.

I wish there were more to say... but I got nothing.

We went. We saw. We conquered. And in the end... We'll remember it fondly.

But next year... we'll probably be priced out.




*Also, Just to put this out there... Ray finally went to the doctor this morning. Like he expected, they did X-rays. What he had thought was a sprain turned out to be a broken meta-tarsel. He's gonna spend a few weeks in a boot... and hopefully he listens next time I ask him to go to the doctor.

The point two will getcha?

It feels strange to go back to my previously scheduled blogging when my heart and mind is still trying to get a wrap around what happened in Boston last week. My mind doesn't want to move on... But I know I need to. Because not moving on will only allow me to become stunted by the pain.

So today, while my heart is still with Boston, I keep going with my life. Because the perpetrators (so far) took 4 lives last week, I cannot allow my heart and soul to be added to the death toll.

Today, I write about something I hadn't intended to write about for another few weeks. And that is the secret I have been keeping close to my chest.

Let me start by saying that I don't like secrets. I think that has to do with my dislike for general anticipation.
 
I don't like it when people keep secrets from me because I feel like I am being left out. And I don't like it when people plan surprises for me (but tease me before hand about having a surprise for me).

I also don't like keeping secrets from other people, and I hate surprising others too.

That doesn't mean that if someone tells me something in confidence that I wont keep that confidence for them, because I tend to be really good at that. I don't know if it is just semantics, but somewhere in my brain I have made a distinction between confidences and secrets, and it is the latter that I have a hard time with.

Needless to say, I've been sitting on a secret for a number of weeks now.

And it. Is. Killing. Me.

KILLING ME!

The secret is...

That in January of 2014, after reaching my goal of 13 half marathons in 2013, I plan to run a full marathon.

I hesitate to say my first marathon because that implies that there will be a second, but it will be the first time that I will run a marathon. But I've hesitated to even say anything about it until now because I'm afraid.

I think when it comes to doing new things like this, I might be a bit of a commitment-phobe.

Because when you publicly announce that you are going to do something outside of your comfort zone (like train to run 26.2 miles in a row), people can then hold you accountable. If you put it out there for the rest of the world, you have to follow through. And yikes, that's scary.

That's 26.2 miles.

I decided, because it was Disney marathon weekend that got me interested in running in the first place, and my first half marathon was at Disney, what better a place to run the longest race I've ever attempted?

Photo courtesy of Karen Orozco*

Now, I know I complained a lot after my Disney half in January about them having too many entrants, and about how less-than-friendly the other runners were, and how I had really expected more from a race being put on by The Happiest Place on Earth, but there are also some benefits to running at Disney, that can make my marathon experience a good one.

For starters, because they don't start the 16 minute per mile requirement until the last person crosses the start line, if I am further up in my corral, I would have a little extra time to finish. Because there are so many corrals  and they wait 7 minutes between corrals to start, this also means an additional time buffer for someone like me, who has a naturally slow pace. Granted, this may change as RunDisney announced some changes on their blog recently about having fewer entrants and the possibility of adding corrals with smaller fields, but for now, I feel fairly confident that I can train hard for this race, then participate without getting swept.

And I'll keep my fingers crossed.

As of right now, the longest distance I've ever run at a time is 14 miles. That means that I will be adding an additional 12.2 miles to that distance. I anticipate that it will take me approximately 6 and a half or 7 hours to finish... but the time isn't really that important.

Of course I say that the time isn't all that important now, but I'm sure that will change in the coming months as the reality sets in that I am actually going to do this.

Thankfully, unlike my experience at the Disney Half this past year, I will not be running this event entirely on my own. My awesome running partner Brina has graciously offered to run the marathon with me, to help keep me on pace and motivated. 6-7 hours on my own might be a little rough. But it seems all the more doable with a friend.




*A special thanks to Karen Orozco at Losing the Glass Slippers for allowing me to use her photo. Karen is currently training for her first half marathon at Disney's Princess Half in February 2014. Keep working hard Karen, you can do it!

Walt Disney World Half - January 12, 2012

I thought about titling this post "Amy's First Half Marathon."

And then thought that using "Amy put biofreeze where?!?!?!" as a title may be more apropos.

But regardless of what I've titled this post, it will be both about my first half marathon experience, and how my brain doesn't seem to want to work after running for (literally) hours on end.

Grab some popcorn, this is going to be a long entry...

The months leading up to Disney's half marathon had gone fairly uneventfully. I had followed the Galloway training plan,  and much to my surprise, it wasn't as grueling as I had thought it would be.

In November-ish, I ran a 9 mile training run and it went well for the first 8 miles but my energy petered out after that, leaving me thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. During my 11 mile training run, the first 9 miles were relatively easy, but the last 2 miles left me completely spent, thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. In my 12.5 mile training run, the first 11 went fairly well, but I had to push myself so hard to just finish the last 1.5 miles that I was left thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. Do we see a pattern here?

During my 14 mile training run on Christmas Eve morning, I was able to reach 13 miles fairly easily but then (trying to force myself into overdrive) I pulled a groin muscle and hobbled the last mile home. Had this been the actual half marathon, that last 0.1 woulda got me.

But thankfully It was only a training run, and I had a couple of weeks of taper before my half marathon where I could let my body rest and relax (rest and relax being subjective here as I somehow managed to perforate both eardrums, then rupture one of them, then get incredibly congested with a headcold, leaving me well outside of the definition of being in tip-top condition, but I digress).

Disney Marathon Weekend was a weekend long trip, despite the fact that we were only running the half marathon on Saturday. The week leading up to leaving, when my balance wasn't off and I could spend more than 2 minutes vertical, I packed and allowed myself to get excited. On Thursday night, before heading to bed, I read my new issue of Runner's World Magazine, and was excited to read a story written by veteran runner Marc Parent about his first half marathon experience ("Oh my God- I just ran a half-marathon"). I would recommend this article to anyone about to run their first half marathon, and took pride in the fact that I was about to undertake a feat that many veteran runners have yet to do. *That* was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Friday before the half marathon, Ray and I drove with our friends Kevin and David to Orlando where we checked into the All Star Sports Resort and then went to the ESPN Wide World of Sports to pick up our packets. Having worked the expo before, I knew it would be crowded, but I was still really intimidated by the sheer volume of people there. 

Then we went off to Epcot, had an early dinner and it was back to the hotel and to our room by 8pm for a good nights rest. Only I was like that little kid in the Disney commercial who was too excited to sleep. I took some sleep aid, and some DM strength cold medication, but still, I tossed and turned. 

Before I knew it, our alarm was going off at 3:00 am. Yikes. It wasn't too long ago when I used to go to bed at 3am (or frequently later), and now here I was getting up and lacing some shoes to go run at 3am?!?!?

Well that's not true. We had to wake up at 3:00 am and have our laces tied by about 3:20 to be out the door and on the shuttle bus over to Epcot at 3:30 for the 5:30 gun that started the race. Ray and I both started in corral G, so we didn't actually start till just after 6:00 am, but that didn't actually change the time we had to be at the corrals. Let's just say it was Zero dark 30 by the time we got to the bag check area and they opened it up so everyone could then walk the 15 minutes to the start line. To wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Me and Ray before the race

And then it was finally time for our wave to go. And I was anxious. And jittery. And nauseous. And nervous. And full of self doubt. And I really had to pee. But there was no time. Before I could figure out where the nearest port-o-potty was, it was time for our wave to go. And we ran. Ray and I had an agreement that (because he runs a much faster pace than me) he would run at his own pace and I would stay behind, running my own race. But the excitement of the crowd got to me, and I started off WAY faster than I had intended. Normally, where Ray would pull away from me after the first 0.1 mile, I stayed right on his shoes until I could see the first mile marker. Veteran runners will tell you to be careful about the crowd pumping you up too much and starting too fast. But I didn't think that would happen to me. Little did I know, right?

So I started too fast. I ran my first 3 miles at about 14:50 per mile (which to me is WAY too fast, but please don't be rude about how this is still slower than your pet snail), and my energy was burning out fast. It was also really hot. I also hadnt slept much the night before. I was also alone, running with a crowd that was less-than friendly. 

I guess I figured because Disney bills itself as the happiest place on earth, that the 35,000 people who were running alongside me might also have been happy as well. Or at least friendly. I had people bump into me and jostle me with complete disregard, I had multiple groups of walkers refuse to give right of way even though I was going faster than they were, I had groups force me off the road, I heard people just be outright nasty to one another. 

Running isn't a pretty sport, but one thing I had hoped to really feel was that sense of camaraderie that runners always talk about during races. I got very little of that, so little in fact that if I was gauging all half marathon experiences by this one, I probably never would have run another half marathon at all (but I'm getting ahead of myself in the story). The reality of my thought process at the time was that I was in the middle of a huge crowd that never seemed to spread out much, and I felt completely and utterly alone.

People run Disney for any number of reasons. And everyone has a different expectation of what this experience is like. For me, while I knew that the majority of the race is actually outside of the parks with only about a mile through Magic Kingdom and about another half mile at the end through Epcot, I guess it never really occurred to me that the majority of this race would be on the really boring access roads with little scenery to occupy my time. Runners don't even reach Magic Kingdom until around mile 6, so that whole first half of the race is somewhat boring visually.

But then all at once, you round a corner and you are running down mainstreet Magic Kingdom toward Cinderella's Castle. And suddenly the race meets all of your expectations. I was starting to have some nagging achiness in the groin muscle I had pulled the day before Christmas, but how can you not get excited when you are suddenly running through the happiest place on earth with thousands of excited people cheering you on?

Then I rounded the corner into Tomorrow Land and the crowd seemed to spread out a little, but then (without spectators cheering me on), I was really hating the world. I hated my music selection, I hated my shoes. I hated Ray for leaving me behind. I hated my groin pain. I hated my friend Shannon for getting me motivated with this running thing in the first place. And thinking of a video that I had watched the week before about what a guy thought about during his marathons, I hated musicians Carlos Santana & Rob Thomas. And I hadn't even hit 7 miles yet! 

(edited to clarify that I didn't really hate Ray, Shannon, Carlos Santana or Rob Thomas. I really love all of them, but I was in a bad place and lashing out with my anger. I'm sorry to you all.)

After running through Cinderellas castle and out a back exit of Magic Kingdom, we were on access roads again. It was then that I learned that without visual stimulation, I got very bored. Whereas, normally on a training run, I could put my earphones in and go off into la-la land and work out any difficulties that I might be having in my personal life, at Disney I was completely unable to do this. Because I had to constantly be on the lookout for someone running me off the road of elbowing me, I never got to that place deep inside myself. And because I never got there, I was beginning to obsess about the things that were wrong. About how awful I felt. About that increasing groin pain. About how I was quickly losing my pace and falling further and further behind.

And then my mind stopped working altogether. My groin hurt really badly, and desperately wanting it to stop, my (broken)mind decided that it was a muscle pull just like other muscle pulls, and could be treated as such. So passing a medical tent around mile marker 8, I put my right hand out and took a couple of pumps of biofreeze. Without even questioning it, I pulled my pants open with my left hand and jammed my right hand down my pants to apply the gel to the inside crease of my right leg. I knew there was menthol in biofreeze, but I was careful to not get it anywhere near my panties or my nether bits.

Look at all those people still behind me!

Fat chance! The first few minutes after I applied the biofreeze, I felt fairly good. But it was all downhill from there. It didn't take long for the moisture in my clothing to pick up the menthol in the biofreeze and deposit it directly where I really didn't want it. For the next 4-5 miles, my lady bits were completely on fire. I was able to smile for the cameras and take joy in the fact that there were still thousands of people behind me when I glanced over my shoulder at the top of a ramp, but I started having visions of crossing the finishline and pouring water and baking soda down my pants. At mile 9, I quit my running intervals and chose to walk straight through.

And just like that, I was entering into Epcot parking lot and into the last 1.1 miles of the race. I was wiped. It took everything out of me. I was dehydrated. And exhausted. My groin hurt. My underwear felt as if I had crushed habanero peppers into it. I was passed in the last mile by an elderly speedwalker using a tri-wheeled walker (true story). But I finished.

I did it!

I was slower than I had anticipated. But I finished.

Then I went to the medical tend, poured water down my pants and had my groin area packed with ice.

Note to self: Biofreeze doesn't belong ANYWHERE near there.


Chip time - 3:35:28
Pace - 16:14 per mile
5K - 46:12
10K - 1:36:06
15K - 2:30.15
OA - 21774 / 43126
Div - 12145 / 13128

Expedition Everest - May 5, 2012

Immediately after my first successful 5K race, I was itching to run another one. When our friends Shannon, David, and Kevin mentioned an interest in Disney's Expedition Everest Challenge (an upcoming 5K/Scavenger hunt at Disney's Animal Kingdom), I begged Ray to go.

I trained from February 2012 until late April using the couch to 5k program... and though I couldn't seem to break 15:30 minutes per mile for a training run (and I know people who can walk faster than that!), I felt ready for this race. The timing of the race was awful though.

We had just closed on our first home purchase a week before, we had moved out of our old apartment and into the new house, we had to vacate the new house for 2 days to fumigate for termites, our new house was broken into during this time period, I had a head cold, I was finishing up assignments for the end of a semester at school. All of that combined with a fear of running in our new neighborhood at night had me not training during the week before Expedition Everest, but I still felt ready for this race.

The day of the race was hot and humid.... like in the 90s hot, and South Florida or Dallas-in-June humid. We met up with our friends Shannon, Carra and Scott at Epcot during the day, and perhaps we overdid it a bit. At 4pm, we met up for an early dinner at Rainforest Cafe at Animal Kingdom, then we headed back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the nighttime race.

2 hours before the race was supposed to start, we drove back to Animal Kingdom where we met up with the rest of the group, and I started to get really nervous. There were SO MANY people there, and the irrational part of me kept saying that I couldn't really do this, that I wasn't prepared, that I should just go find a cozy place to sit down and wait for everyone else to finish.

Trying to mellow out before the race.

Ray saw how stressed out I was, and we tried to relax, but being in the 5th wave meant an extended wait at the start, and a longer time for the self doubt to get to me. I turned the volume on my iPod as loud as it would go, and hoped to tune out the negative self-talk.

Finally, after what felt like forever, it was time for our wave to go. And just like that, we were off running. Ray, who normally runs a faster pace than I do, had agreed to run this race with me as part of a 2 person team. I rarely get to run with other people because I am slower than molasses flowing uphill in the winter, so having someone to run with was a nice change.

I had my timer set to run intervals of 3 minutes running/1 minute walking, but about 2 minutes into the running, my eyes caught sight of a girl about 10 yards ahead of me. She was probably about 150 lbs bigger than me, wearing a bright blue and green tie-dyed t-shirt, and chugging along. She was also running intervals.

I had caught up to her significantly in my first running interval, and she was walking by the time my interval ended, but just as my timer beeped, she took off like a bat out of hell and was suddenly 10-15 yards ahead of me again.

I told Ray that I wouldn't be taking a walk interval until I passed this girl in the tie-dye... And so I didn't. And we kept running. And she would sprint for about a minute like her life depended on it, then she would slow to a snails pace of walking, and we would almost pass her, and she would take off again. It drove me crazy that no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get around her.

Don't get me wrong. I was happy to see this girl out there doing something to take control of her life and become more active. I was happy to see myself out there too. But here's the thing: I've never really considered myself a runner, and here was this woman who had about 150 lbs on me who was out there doing it ... and she was going to do it better than me?  I was having none of that. Have I mentioned my really bad competitive side yet?

I spent the first mile, which is around the outside perimeter of the Animal Kingdom parking lot, trying to pass the girl in the tie -dye. Immediately before mile marker 1, we had to jump over some bales of hay, then we ran up toward the front gate. Once inside the park, we ran up and around the big tree, through the park, out an employee entrance. I lost track of the girl in the tie-dye somewhere before mile marker 2, as we ran through a series of tires. I couldn't see the girl with the tie-dyed shirt, but I knew she was right on my heels so I kept running, through the back lot, out to the main parking lot, and just before the first split time at the 5k mark, through a sand crawl.

When we crossed the finish for the running portion, we were handed our first clue, and a marker and sent back into the park. Ray and I were fairly good at the clues, and the first one came easily to us. When we got to the second clue, I began to write the answer down and noticed a red viscous fluid dripping all over the clue cards.

Freaking out that I was having such a serious nosebleed, I frantically started wiping my face. I kept pulling my hands away to find nothing. 

And the fluid kept dripping, this time on the ground all around me. Holy crap! where was all this blood coming from??? I looked at Ray and he wasn't bleeding. That only left one explanation....

I was DYING. I was frantic, barking at Ray to check me for cuts. I was certainly going to die.

After a couple more seconds of panic, I realized that the far better explanation was that our red sharpie was leaking everywhere, and that I wasn't actually hemorrhaging. We had a good laugh, and after ensuring that nobody was in fact going to die, we continued to our next clue checkpoint. 

We had a little trouble with the final clue, but after figuring it out, we sprinted toward the finish line, finishing the event in a total of 1:18:10.

Splits:
5K: 46:35
Pace: 14:44/mile
Search Time: 21:46
Clock Time: 1:42:19
Chip Time: 1:18:46



Overall, I felt great after this experience. Not only did I finish the 5k portion of this race faster than I finished my first 5k, but I ran the entire thing. I felt great.

And when I saw the race photos online, I felt even better. Included in the race photos was a video of the finish-line and chute, and there (in the back left corner of the video) about 10 yards behind me, was the girl in the tie-dye shirt.  I was happy to have seen her finish, but even happier to see that I finished before her. For awhile there, I wasn't so sure I would.