Revel Rockies - July 19, 2015

You could probably call this the race that almost wasn't. In fact, for many half marathoners, this race actually wasn't, but not for me. The race was officially cancelled about 10 minutes before the half was supposed to start, but I ran it anyway... Let me explain...

A couple of years ago, I met an ultra runner whom I greatly admire. She's strong, she's tough. She's much faster than me, but I'm not sure she would be called elite. She is absolutely elite in my eyes, but that's because she's such a running beast. On top of that, she's supportive... even for a turtle like me. When I heard about the Revel Rockies race near her home in Denver Colorado, I asked if I could plan a trip to visit. And soon, another friend of mine decided to make the trip to Colorado with me to also run the race.

Having lived in Florida for the past 10 years, and having had asthma for the greater part of my life, and having heard horror stories about altitude and having experienced altitude issues myself while in Utah last summer, I knew that I needed to plan accordingly. I didn't have a lot of time, but the plan was to fly to Denver on Thursday, accompany my 2 friends to Aspen and spectate the Aspen Marathon, thus allowing time to acclimate. Then one Sunday, we would meet up with another friend flying in from California, and we would run the Revel Rockies Race.

The best laid plans...

Unfortunately, although packet pickup was smooth and seamless, race morning was an absolute disaster. The race was point to point starting at the top of a canyon, so we had to meet busses early in the morning to take us from parking to the starting line. My friend from Colorado was running the full marathon so she had to meet her bus earlier than the rest of us, so we arrived at the parking lot super early. We waited in the car after she left to catch her bus, then we saw a line starting to form for the half marathon buses. It was bitter cold, but we donned our plastic bags and went to stand in line for the buses.

During the next hour or so, I only saw a total of 5 buses, and they were all for marathoners. We waited and waited. We knew it was about a 20-30 minute drive to the starting line and we all started to get antsy when we knew that start time was fast approaching and the buses still never came. It was like Waiting for Godot. about 15 minutes before the race was scheduled to start, one of the volunteers came to tell us that they were trying to figure out the game plan because the buses never came, and they would update us. Less than 2 minutes later, we watched in shock as we saw all of the people in front of us scatter and start running back to their cars. We looked around confused for a few minutes, unsure of what was happening and meandered to where the front of the line had been. And on the way, my Florida friend learned through a post on the event organizer's facebook page that the half marathon had been cancelled.

I was in shock. I think had I not been so cold and tired, I might have been more upset, but at first, I just stood there dumbly. Until the frustration set in. I had spent a LOT of money on airfare, and expenses. I had taken unpaid time off of work. I had acclimated (although not well because I really wasn't feeling well). I didn't want to accept cancelled as an answer.

I'm not officially a member of the 50 state half marathon club yet (though I plan to be before the end of the year), but they have some guidelines for what counts as a race. As a member of half fanatics, there are other guidelines. My friends and I quickly brainstormed what we would have to do in order to be able to still run a half marathon and have it count for both clubs. We tried to rope others to drive with us to what should have been the start of the race, and run it with us anyway... But they wouldn't.

Eventually, we learned that if we could get ourselves to what should have been the start line within the next hour, we could still run, although we still didn't know whether our times would count, whether we would be entitled to course support, and whether we would get medals at the finish. We didn't know whether others were running the course also, so we didn't know if there would be the required 20 starters that the half marathon clubs require. But we were willing to gamble.

We piled into the rental car and drove to the start line, leaving our car in a frozen yogurt stand parking lot. We would worry about the logistics of retrieving it later. We looked what should have been the starting line and saw that there were others with the same idea.

We jumped on the course and started running.

My race was off from the start. As a back of the packer, I knew that I might be without other half marathoners for most of the course anyway, but with no real pack, I was literally on my own from the word go. Although there was a bit of a crowd (the same logistics that cancelled the half marathon messed up the full marathon and the crowd was really small), I never actually felt like I was running a half marathon.

Instead, I was left feeling like I was doing a 13.1 mile training run, crashing the course of the full marathon. The course was gorgeous, but I was too sick and dizzy from the altitude to really enjoy it to the fullest. Other runners would pass me and realize that I was a half marathoner and ask what had happened, but I didn't really know. All I knew was that I was on my own... and it was tough.

I saw a lot of people struggling out there. After the sun came up, it went from bone-chilling cold to brutally hot, and a lot of people were unprepared. I think a lot of people also underestimated the altitude. I know I certainly did.

Although I had allowed myself to acclimate, I stupidly thought that I might even PR this race because it was almost entirely downhill and was billed as a really fast course because of the altitude decline... but instead, it was the opposite. By mile 9, I was nursing a really ferocious headache. By 10, I was dizzy and nauseous. By 11, I felt like a jackhammer was splitting my skull open. By 12, I was delirious. I sat down on a guardrail to catch my breath and contemplated the race. I wanted to finish more than anything. But I also knew that I was sick. I took a selfie and realized that my lips were turning blue.

I quickly did a little math in my head. I'm no mathematician, and considering how out of it I was, I'm not sure how accurrate this was, but I remember thinking I had at least another hour for the course to remain open (if I was allowed to finish the race considering that technically I was a bandit on a cancelled half marathon). I weighed my options. If I quit due to the altitude (which would have been a respectable quit in retrospect), I would have to spend all that money again. I would have to acclimate to the altitude again. I would have to do the entire race again... and it just wasn't worth it.

So I sucked it up. I finished, but that last mile took me a ridiculously long time... almost a half hour to be exact. The course was kind of jacked in that it ran a little long, and the final stretch was back uphill after a steep and steady decline through the canyon. That seemed a little sneaky to me, but who I was I to complain.

I crossed the finishline, and immediately sought out medical. I've never seen a setup like this before. Medical was not immediately at the finishline, you had to go over a guardrail and down a little hill to get to them... and I didn't see them immediately and started to panic... which of course only heightened my problems. Another runner saw that I was in distress and escorted me to medical. Where I promptly took a breathing treatment and sat for awhile on oxygen. I think that I might suggest that should this race series return to Colorado they revisit their setup for finishline. food trucks do not need to be immediately on top of the finishline, medical DOES.

In the end, although it was a rocky start, and although I never really felt like I got the experience I was looking for, it was a state that I finished. Not every race can be excellent and run smoothly... But I finished, and that's all that counts. There will be other races on other days.

Gun = 4:52:28
Chip = 3:48:31
Pace = 17:26/mile

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

First Light Half Marathon, Mobile Alabama - January 11, 2015

Over the past year and a half, I had spent more and more time with my friend Seth. I don't know if it was that first trip that we took together where we conquered 6 half marathons in 6 days in 5 states (5 half marathons and a full for him), of the shortly thereafter, but I soon found that I was thirsty to travel the country and run a half marathon in each of the 50 states. Since that first trip, I had completed another 5 states in 5 consecutive days, and had traveled to Utah to run a half marathon with my friend Sarah. I thought for sure that due to financial constraints, that I would be unable to get another state under my belt for at least another year.

But my friend Seth had this ungodly goal of completing 30 full marathons in 30 different states during the calendar year of 2015, and he planned to do his first full marathon of the year on January 11, 2015 at the First Light Marathon and Half in Mobile, Alabama. The biggest obstacle in his path was that airfare to Mobile, Alabama was ridiculously expensive. He planned to make the drive, a trip which would consist of at least  10 hours in a car each way. He asked me and another friend if we wanted to join him, and both of us said no. For me, the thought of spending 20 hours in a car over the course of 72 hours was not appealing at all!

But then my husband suggested that I go afterall. He has been nothing but encouraging through my running journey, and fully supports my goal of hitting half marathons in all 50 US States. At the last minute, I called my friend Seth and told him that I would be joining him afterall.

I think what I liked the most about this race was that although it was a very small race, the crowd support was phenomenal. The race was part of a 2 part double header with The Mississippi Blues marathon and half in Jackson Mississippi, and the double header was this big reunion event for both Marathon Maniacs and Half Fanatics. Having it be the reunion event meant that every turn that I made meant that there were familiar faces of other runners that I had met through these organizations. Seriously, having Marathon Maniacs and Half Fanatics at a race is like having my own little family at an event, even when I am so far from home.

The half marathon was walker friendly, and because I ran into a dear friend from California who I hadn't seen in over a year, I chose to walk the race with her. We walked through the most gorgeous historic neighborhoods with sweeping flora and canopies made of Spanish Moss (which is incidentally neither Spanish nor a moss), we walked through some relatively beat up commercial neighborhoods, and the most quaint southern family bungalow style neighborhoods. I absolutely loved this course! With each turn in the road, my senses were tickled with new scenery, and I never got bored. And of course, I talked to many people on the course, all while being cautious to not step in a broken section of pavement or trip over a random stray root that had pushed through the blacktop.

At around mile 10, my veteran running friend and I noticed that there were 2 girls who we were leapfrogging with. One of the girls was struggling to finish. She had completed a half marathon years prior, but hadn't trained for this event. We assured the girls that we would help them finish the event and told them that we would stay with them. And we did. I later learned that the girl who was struggling was at her breaking point right before we met up with her, and she was ready to quit. She didn't, because of us. This is why being in the back of the pack is so rewarding sometimes!

Anyway, this was one of my slower races, but I enjoyed every moment of it. I had wonderful company, and I enjoyed each moment. And the icing on top of the cake was that each registration for the event benefited an amazing charity: L'arche Mobile. According to their website, L'Arche is an international federation of communities in which people with intellectual disabilities and those who help them can live, work, and share their lives together. In gratitude for receiving the funds generated through this marathon, members of the L'arche community hand-make all of the finishers medallions. Rather than giving out finishers medals that are commercially designed, manufactured, and mass-produced... each finisher is awarded a finishers medallion that was hand-crafted by someone who the L'arche program supports... and each finisher receives their medallion from a member of the L'arche community. 
 
I've heard a lot of people complain about the lack of medals and the handmade nature of the finisher medallions, but I wouldn't trade my medallion for anything. It actually ranks up there as one of my top 5 favorite finisher awards. 

Finish time: 3:47:57
OA 685/699

Wrapping up 2014, ringing in 2015

Happy 2015! As I sit here thinking about all of my accomplishments of 2014 and planning my goals for 2015, I am reminded about how far behind I am with my blogging and my race recaps from the previous year. If you will allow me, I'd like to skip ahead to my yearly wrap up and goal setti
ng for 2015, then return to finish blogging about the last few months of 2014. It will be a little disjointed, but to me, it seems to make sense.

The number one goal that I had in terms of running this year was to have completed 520 miles. For some more experienced runners, this might have seemed like a really lame goal, but it was just slightly higher than the goal of the year prior, and considering that I spent the last half of 2013 injured, setting this nominal goal for 2014 seemed doable. At the end of the day though, I hadn't counted on being sidelined with foot complications, and this goal was just not attainable.

After calculating and recalculating my tally for the year, I finished having traveled 323.11 miles.

In some respects, I am happy that I was able to do this much, and in other respects, I am saddened that I set a goal and wasn't able to meet it. I hate not finishing what I started, and it feels like I have let myself down. Husbeast keeps telling me to open my eyes and see all that I did manage to accomplish this year instead of what I wasn't able to accomplish... so here goes.

This year, (although I haven't finished blogging about all of them), I completed

• 15 half marathons
• 2 10K races
• 1 6K race
• 2 5K races
• 1 4K race
• 1 race that billed itself as a 5K OCR but came up lacking

and the most important distance race of my life...

• My dissertation was completed and successfully defended, earning me the title of "Doctor."

I also was able to check off another 6 states in my quest for running a half marathon in each state of the United States (KY, TN, MS, AR, LA, UT).

As I think toward next year, I have one goal... and that is to finish what I started last year and reach that number of 520. This year, I will do it.

Porter's Half Marathon - August 30, 2014

I just returned to South Florida from a whirlwind trip to visit my dear friend Sarah in Utah, where we shared the experience of the Porter's Half Marathon together. She wrote an update of the weekend trip which can be found by clicking this link, but I wanted to share my experiences too. I chose to not carry a camera at the race, so I am borrowing some of her photos to illustrate.

I know Sarah through school. We are both working on our doctoral degrees in Conflict Analysis and Resolution, and we have both been navigating the dissertation stage together at the same pace. She has ultimately been one of my closest confidants through the dissertation journey, and because we both recently turned in our respective completed first drafts for review, this was a much needed celebratory trip. I flew out to Utah on Thursday, which gave me a bit of time to both acclimate to the dryness and the altitude, but it also allowed us to go out and explore the Salt Lake area of Utah. Off the bat, I was a little concerned about the altitude and how it would affect me, and I was hyper aware that when doing stairs in her home, I was getting significantly winded.

Sarah had gotten a PR one week prior at a race, and was still a bit sore by the time Saturday morning rolled around so her goal was just to finish the race and qualify for Half Fanatics. That goal worked well with my own goals too. Having just come off an injury, my goal was to simply finish the race upright so that I might rebuild some confidence that was lost over the past year. We arrived at packed pickup early on Saturday morning with plenty of time to spare. The process went smoothly, we got our bibs and shirts, we used the facilities, then we waited for the buses. Sarah recently had joined a group called #Run3rd which was created by Actor Sean Ashton following the idea that you run first for yourself, second for your family and then 3rd you run for those who can't or for those who need uplifting. She had some gorgeous patches sewn for us because we were running 3rd for peace, so we also put those on our backs.

The course was an A to B course, with the start line at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon at approximately 5393 feet above sea level... approximately 844 feet higher in elevation than the start line. My ears were popping like crazy during the drive to the start line, and when we got out of the bus, I was shocked by how mountainous it was. I grew up in the mountains of NH, but this was entirely a different beast. I guess I've never stood in a canyon looking up at the mountains looming above me. It was quite the experience.

The field of participants was really small, and when the race started, I realized that although we were averaging just over 13 minutes per mile, the pack was pulling away from us at a quick clip. We had been told that we had 4 hours to complete the race, so we knew that we weren't in trouble time wise or anything, but it was disconcerting that we quickly found that we were on our own along the roads with a single motorcycle cop giving us a personal escort. Sarah and I were both sore as we began the race, but I was impressed by how well my feet were holding up. I had some standard soreness in my fascia, but no signs of the dreaded foot pains from my injuries of the past year. We were also maintaining a pace that is faster than average for me, and my confidence soared.

The deer was right on the other side of the fence

At mile 4ish, we approached an aid station and the boys that were working it were intently looking off into a field as we approached. I wondered what they were looking at, but I was focused on opening a pack of gu. When I looked up again, there was a young white tailed deer about 2 feet away from me. The boys then pointed out a young male deer that was a little further off. The sun was shining just so, and I would have to say that this experience itself made the whole race worthwhile to me.

At mile 6 I realized I was having some significant trouble breathing. It felt like every time I went to take a breath, I had a 40 lb 2 year old jumping on my chest. I couldn't get a full breath, and forget about talking anymore. I told Sarah that I needed to walk for a little while. I was never able to recover the breathing, and although we tried to run a few more intervals, we gave up. Its strange. I had a lot of concerns about doing this race and being able to complete it within the allotted time, but my concerns always revolved around my feet and my injuries. I never imagined that the altitude would cause me to be so short of breath and be my downfall. I told Sarah she could go along without me, but she was still feeling a lot of aches and pains from her PR race the week prior, so she chose to stay with me.

seriously?

We had a great time. The scenery was gorgeous the houses were grand, and the backyard decorations had us giggling. We passed a ranch that had a random zebra and some emus, we passed a home with a large sculpture of a dinosaur skeleton, and to celebrate the strict liquor laws in Utah, we had shots of Jack at mile 10. Those shots really picked us up and gave us the sugar we needed to keep going and dulled the aches and pains that we had developed on the course. The aid stations at the last 4 miles or so were already semi packed up and were left unmanned, so these shots really came in handy to boost morale.

The course had been billed as a mostly downhill with "a few rollers to keep us honest," but honestly, I felt that the course was more rollers than anything, and the 844 foot decline was only noticeable when we were approaching the finish line and could see the start line off in the distance well above our heads.

Start just over my left shoulder in mtns

As we approached the finish line, a runner we had met earlier on the course who had done the 10K and who had "doubled back" earlier told us that they were breaking down the finish line and that they knew we were coming. She encouraged us to finish strong, which certainly we did, but it was a little disheartening that we had been told that we had 4 hours on the course and we were at  approximately 3:20 and they were already breaking down the finish line. By the time we got there, the timing mats were already packed away, though the remaining volunteers made a nice finish line for us by loosely lining the course to make an impromptu chute and holding up flags for us to run through to signify our finish.

All said and done, it was a great day with a great friend. In retrospect, I wish that I had been a little more prepared for the altitude and perhaps that could have been accomplished by flying in an extra day or 2 early. I might recommend this race to people who enjoy small races and who really enjoy scenery, but if you are looking for a fast flat, this is not for you.

Half 27 completed. 12th State completed.

Unofficial Finish time: 3:32:13

Not bad for untrained and coming off an injury.

What? Another state?

OK. So here's the thing. I've accepted that I'm injured. And we all know that I'm a little stubborn. I was told to be in the boot for 2 weeks before my follow up, and I admit, I was only half in compliance.

I work a couple of part time jobs, but for the most part not only do I work them from home, but I also have the full time job of finishing my doctoral dissertation (also from home). And I couldn't justify waking up, putting the boot on to walk 10 feet to my office and sitting for a couple of hours, then walking the distance to the fridge and back, then sitting for some more hours... etc. Because short distances didn't hurt. But the evening would eventually roll around and my foot would hurt again. And stupid me, I was unwilling to accept that it wasn't getting better because when I was at home in my house I was not entirely in compliance.

I went for the followup, and he joked that after hearing that, he couldn't understand why I wasn't getting better either. So he ordered another 2 weeks in the boot. I felt like I was getting better until Saturday when I went to a concert and some drunk girl both tripped over my foot, then kicked it out of the way when she couldn't figure out what she had tripped over. And of course, I am seriously hurting now. But I have hope. The followup is just under 2 weeks from now, and I am not taking that dang boot off until then. I should be better exponentially by then.

But here's the thing. I'm going stir crazy. I have found that one of the only ways that I can alleviate stress is through running. Sorry folks, the gym just doesn't cut it. And obviously I can't do zumba right now. So the stress builds... and trust me, right now I have a TON of stress (to be measured in metric F-tons).

I'm in another kind of race these days. I'm in the race to meet deadlines with my dissertation. If I can get my first draft completed by September, I could be defended by the end of the calendar year, which means I could have my ph.d. conferred as early as January or February. I need to meet this timeline so that I don't have to pay more tuition. And I really don't want to pay any more tuition. So there you have it. I'm brain fried and content overloaded. I'm working all day, and up half the night pondering my research questions and the shape that my final document will take. I'm overloaded by the hot political mess that is going on in Israel and Palestine as this tangentially affects the topic of my expertise. I'm needing to reduce stress in meaningful ways.

And of course that brings me back to the foot problem. So I thought about a mini-break to visit my good friend Sarah in Utah. Sarah and I have been working together to keep motivated through our ph.d. journeys, and we are both aiming for the same timeline to finish. Plus we are both peace workers, so we share a lot of the same emotional hardships. Did I mention that she is also a runner? And wouldn't you know it, she will be running her 3rd and qualifying race for half fanatics while I am visiting her. Coincidence? I think not.

I plead my fifth amendment rights as to the logistics of how this happened, but Sarah registered me for the race with her. I admit to no blame in the registration for this race, because registering for a race when I am not sure I will fully be healed wouldn't be very compliant of me, now would it? I think I'll be healed at that point, but even if, I can wear a brace to help alleviate the pressure. It will be fun. And hey, not only do I get to relieve stress by seeing one of my closest friends in a place that I've never been before, but I will also be able to share this amazing opportunity with her.

Porter's Half Marathon, here I come!

Riverboat Series Day 5, Winnsboro LA (Citivan Park) - April 15, 2014

This is part 4 of a 5 part series about the 5 half marathons in 5 consecutive days in 5 states trip that I recently took which was hosted by Mainly Marathons.

Part 1, and Kentucky, can be found here.
Part 2, and Tennessee, can be found here. 
Part 3, and Arkansas, can be found here.
Part 4, and Mississippi, can be found here. 

Finally getting to this last post has me feeling mixed emotions. Great sadness to be putting this who experience behind me, and happiness to have once again spent a week with such amazing people who I am honored to call "friends" for a lifetime. And happiness to actually be finished writing about this.... for some reason, writing about series like these fill me with dread. I mean, I am usually one who writing comes naturally to... yet these posts leave me feeling like I will never be able to say everything that I need to say, and feeling kind of like a failure for not doing these experiences justice. I don't even know if that makes any sense. I think I might just be rambling.

Anyway, Day 5 brought us to Winnsboro Louisiana to the Citivan Park, and the searching that I have done about this park has brought little info. Essentially it is a smaller municipal park in Winnsboro Louisiana, but the modesty of the size really didn't mean much. This course was spectacular, running along a beautiful little creek, the sweeping trees and Spanish moss provided a great deal of cover and there was never a want for anything interesting to look at.

I actually thoroughly enjoyed this course, though the day got off to a rocky start. The night before had been once again plagued by no sleep on my part as my roommates were tossing and turning all night and in order to be as alert as possible the following day, I had skipped my sleeping medications (so as not to be drug-hungover during the race). We had been having some tension between ourselves and the night before I had seriously considered skipping day 5 of the race series altogether, and jumping on the next flight home from Shreveport, LA, in order to alleviate those tensions. In the end, I am happy that I didn't leave the trip early, but on the other hand, the emotional stress combined with the overall lack of sleep from the trip, and the exertion of already having completed 4 back to back half marathons was getting to me.

Getting dressed that morning, I managed to put a huge hole in the pants that I put on. Seriously, could this day start any better?

By the time we got to Citivan Park, I was spent. The lack of sleep and stress was really getting to me, though I had been avoiding the sleeping medications to stave off the drug-hangover, I was so exhausted I felt like I was sleepwalking, I felt fat from having torn my pants trying to put them on that morning, I just wanted to go to bed. Then, in getting ready to leave the car, I managed to forget things in my bag requiring a return trip to the car 3 times. And then when the race finally started, one of my fellow runners leaned over to me and told me that we had left the dome light on inside the car meaning that I would have to return to it during the middle of the race, lest the battery die.

NOT how I wanted to start my day.

After returning to the car again, I jumped back onto the course and started trudging along. I was still somewhat chilled from our foray in rain 2 days prior, so I felt myself snuggling into my jacket for warmth as I got my body moving. I wanted desperately to do well on this final day, but I soon realized I was having problems with my right calf. It seemed that I had a charley horse in my right calf that wouldn't subside. I took longer steps, I took shorter steps. I stopped to stretch, and felt good, but then I would take another couple steps and the pain would return.

Other runners might say that this was my "least friendly" of days, and they are undoubtedly right. I would briefly encourage other participants when we would pass one another, I would give smiles, but my mind wasn't there. I knew the only way I would make the distance would be to disappear deep within my own thoughts, so as not to think about the pain. As long as I didn't think about the pain, I knew I could just keep putting one foot in front of the other and meet my distance goal.

Forward momentum doing the work here. I was so out of it.

I found a song on my ipod that had a really good beat, and I put it on... on repeat. And I kept going. One foot in front of another. left, right, left, right.

It finally started to warm up, so I started to strip some layers off. And then I started to get too warm. but stopping to take off more clothes might make me stop altogether. So I just dealt with the heat and continued to put one foot in front of the other.

I don't even remember how many laps we had to take to collect the required number of rubber bands. I just knew I had to collect some, and when I had collected enough, I was done. The only goal was to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

And that I did. And I was so caught up in just getting it done, that somewhere along the line, I realized that I was no longer walking (as I had intended to do for the duration). Somewhere along the line, the forward momentum just took over and I found myself with more spring in my step. I was somewhere between walking and jogging, and maybe a little forward falling in there too. My music was turned up loud. I no longer felt as if I was in control of the movement in my legs. I was just sort of along for the ride. I saw friends finishing the race, and trying to get my attention to say goodbye, but I couldn't slow down. The end was in sight and I was going to get there...

And I did. My finish time was still less than stellar,  but it was the fastest I had finished a race in any of this 5 in 5 day series. 3:53:36. and that includes the trek back to the car to turn the dome light off.

I was finally able to sit down with some friends, have a couple of drinks. strip down the last outer layer of clothes and bask in the sun (resulting in another sunburn for this pasty white girl).

In retrospect, I'm happy I did this trip, but at the time, I was exhausted. I can only imagine what Parvaneh Moayedi was feeling.

Parvaneh in yellow here.

For those not in the know, between November 11, 2012 and November 10, 2013 Dear Parvaneh  ran the most marathons in a year, topping out at 168. I knew of Parvaneh from meeting her at the Center of the Nation series last fall, but what I didn't know was that when I saw her during the Riverboat series, she would be well on her way to beating her own personal record, and the Guiness Record that she had set last year. She was able to include all of these races in her new record (still pending verification) of 258 marathons in a year. I am so impressed and excited for her. Congrats Dear Parvaneh!


*Disclaimer: Nearly none of the photos that you will see in the posts about this trip are mine. I chose to not bring my camera with me during the races and instead rely on other people. To the people who have contributed photos to help tell this story, I am thankful.

Riverboat Series Day 4, Leroy Percy State Park (MS) - April 15, 2014

This is part 4 of a 5 part series about the 5 half marathons in 5 consecutive days in 5 states trip that I recently took which was hosted by Mainly Marathons.

Part 1, and Kentucky, can be found here.
Part 2, and Tennessee, can be found here. 
Part 3, and Arkansas, can be found here.

By Day 4, this trip was really getting to me.... Not only Do we constantly move from place to place, never really getting to unpack and let ourselves catch our breath, but sharing hotel rooms with non-family who have different habits can really take its toll. Further, being constantly on the go, using up ridiculous amounts of energy on the race courses and not eating right can really have an affect on someone. And lets not forget that I am such a light sleeper that finding respite from REM sleep was a failure every night.

But once again, on Day 4, we were up bright eyed and bristly tailed... this time with the destination of Leroy Percy Park in Hollandale, MS.  According to the state park website, Leroy Percy is the oldest of Mississippi's state parks, and is characterized by artesian springs, cypress trees and ancient oaks dripping with Spanish moss. Leroy Percy is the only state park featuring a wildlife preserve. The seasonal pursuit of deer, squirrel, turkey, duck and dove beckons to hunters in search of an unspoiled hunting area away from the crowd. Leroy Percy is also known for its alligator population - visitors can safely observe the scaly reptiles from two observation towers over their hot artesian water home.

Our race course was a short loop through the campground areas, but it did  take us by one of the observation towers above the artesian springs... which I was not inclined to be climbing as my legs felt like they were buried in setting cement. The cypress and oaks were beautiful with their draped Spanish moss, but I've been to areas in the south before... it didn't feel like anything I hadn't seen before. I hate to admit it, but this course really left very little impression on me.

I was tired. I was cold (the actual temperature was blustery and there was a windchill, but I still hadn't felt like I had warmed up from the previous day's half marathon swim). I just wanted to do my half marathon and get it over with. Just to check the box.

Seth, Brina and I have talked about check boxes before. Brina and I are both members of Half Fanatics, while Seth is a double agent with Half Fanatics and Marathon Maniacs. Brina is also a member of the 50 State club (which I actually plan to join). Since joining these clubs (which we all seem to really enjoy being a part of), we have noticed that sometimes it feels like we are off to challenge ourselves to the next big accomplishment. Its always about doing something more and more impressive. Why run a half marathon if you can run a half marathon every weekend? Why run in a few states when you can run in THEM ALL??? With that kind of mentality, its easy to see how sometimes the race can morph from doing the race because we really want to and we really enjoy it, to doing the race just to check off the box saying that we did it.

For me, the Mississippi race was a check box kind of event. I walked it with my dear friend Mildred, and we chatted, and it was good. I really don't have much more to say about it than that. I checked the box.

My finish time reflected as much. 4:30:10.

My slowest race during this series.

Sometimes we just have to check the box.

And then I checked the box next to 25 half marathon's completed.

And then I checked the box next to a celebratory shot of Fireball.

To be continued...


*Disclaimer: Nearly none of the photos that you will see in the posts about this trip are mine. I chose to not bring my camera with me during the races and instead rely on other people. To the people who have contributed photos to help tell this story, I am thankful.

Riverboat Series Day 3, Lake Chicot State Park (AR) - April 14, 2014

This is part 3 of a 5 part series about the 5 half marathons in 5 consecutive days in 5 states trip that I recently took which was hosted by Mainly Marathons.

Part 1, and Kentucky, can be found here.
Part 2, and Tennessee, can be found here.

Though each of the days from this series blended together, creating such havoc with my memory and ability to break it down into days, each day had one significant thing that also made it stand out. Day 1 was that horrid hill. Day 2 can be summed up by the word green.

Day 3 can only be described as wet. Wet. Wet. Sopping wet. To the core wet. Feels like swimming wet. And then some more wetness.

Day 3 brought us to Arkansas, to the Lake Chicot State Park in Lake Village, Arkansas. That morning, we woke bright eyed and bushy tailed (albeit we were all exhausted so a bit prickley), got ready, and went to the hotel lobby to see if we could partake in the complimentary continenntal breakfast before it was officially available to guests. Other participants in the series had the same idea, and as we scoped the food and gobbled it down, we saw the news which was calling for severe thunder and lightening storms, and sporatic tornado warnings. It was already rainy and wet outside in the parking lot, but we piled into the car anyway, thinking that if it got bad, we could always choose to skip the event, or perhaps Clint (the race director) would call it due to inclement weather.

Lake Chicot State park is a gorgeous place (or it would be had the weather been nicer) that according to the Arkansas State Park's website sits on Arkansas's largest natural lake, [which] is a scenic setting in the Mississippi Flyway for fishing, boating, and birdwatching. This 20-mile long oxbox lake was once part of the main channel of the Mississippi River. Cut off from the river centuries ago, the lake is the nation's largest, natural oxbow remnant. Outdoor enthusiasts have so many recreational choices at this oasis in the Delta. Included in the programs offered by the park interpreters at Lake Chicot State Park are party barge excursions on the lake.

Unfortunately, because this is an enormous park, there are multiple entrances for the various activities that they offer. Our GPS wasn't so great at finding the location, and we wound up driving through what we believe was a large private farm and their cow pastures... I think we woke a bunch of cows up too, but with the lightening going off all around them... they were probably awake anyway.

We finally got to our destination and learned that everyone had difficulties with people being sent through main streets, random pastures, to closed or no-longer-in-service access roads, and areas that had clearly ONLY been appropriate for vehicles when there wasn't any flooding. (fast forward 12 hours and we heard the news telling us to beware of flash flooding, so that gives an idea of the kind of weather we were facing, but I digress).

We got to the start line, and everyone had their rain gear on... except me. Living in South Florida, I find that the rain is actually more refreshing than a nuisance... particularly when running or walking for exercise... it really shouldn't surprise anyone that I don't even own a raincoat. And a poncho? I should have had one of those... but because I love the rain, I didn't think that I would actually need one. What I had forgotten is that in places other than South Florida, the rain is not only wet, but it is accompanied by a raw cold. Yikes. I quickly found a trashbag and tore some holes into it for my arms and head. Good enough for government work.

Though the park was enormous, the course itself was short. It was just over a mile out and back, meaning that we had to collect either 8 or 9 rubberbands plus do one extra lap for the half marathon distance... These short courses can get monotonous after awhile and having limited visibility because of the storm didn't make it any better. About 4 miles into the race, I stopped at the car to strip off my ipod and my garmin timer... lest they be ruined in the rain. Clint told us that because the storm had stirred up, we could stop in our cars or take cover in the shelters, pausing our timers and have that time subtracted from our finish time if we wanted to. My thought was that unless it was lightening out, I couldn't see any reason to stop. We kept going.

I found myself remembering a moment years ago when I was caught in torrential downpours in La Vega, Dominican Republic. We had been shopping for supplies for the dental clinic, and the skies opened up on us and we couldn't find anywhere to take shelter so my friends Becky, Steve and I kicked off our extra layers of clothing and our shoes and we joined a bunch of school children who were frolicking in the runoff from the roofs. We danced, we laughed, we giggled, we threw water at each other, and what could have been a miserable afternoon turned into something that years later still brings a smile to my face.


It was remembering that afternoon in the Dominican Republic that really transformed this race. The roads were flooding in places as the storm drains couldn't keep up. We were soaked to the core, and going through calf high water in places was enough to really ruin a person's mood. In a split second I realized that feeling miserable was only going to make things worse and adopted a fake it till you make it attitude.

I jumped into the very next puddle that I saw. It was halfway up my calves and the water went everywhere!

And then I jumped into the next, and the next, and the next. And when people started laughing, I started kicking water around like a 3 year old in a puddle instead of a 30 something year old. And I was having the time of my life. I even randomly hugged another guy who was going the opposite direction... just because he looked like a soggy cat. And then I splashed some more.

And when we got to our final lap, and collected our rubber bands, I was ready for that last lap, and I was prepared to make the biggest splashes yet! It was going to be epic.

But not 20 yards into the final lap, my walking partner re-counted her bands and we realized there was a discrepancy. She had one more than I did. I must have lost a rubber band when I stripped a layer off at the car!

We turned around and hauled our butts back to the finishline to report our times. I was having so much fun, I was prepared to do an extra few laps! But alas, it was over.

I had a finish time of 4:11:30, 11 seconds faster than day 2, but who cares? It was 4+ hours of playing in the rain... I'd have blisters for weeks and I wouldn't be able to get warm for the next 3 days, but it was worth it!

To be continued...


*Disclaimer: Nearly none of the photos that you will see in the posts about this trip are mine. I chose to not bring my camera with me during the races and instead rely on other people. To the people who have contributed photos to help tell this story, I am thankful.

Riverboat Series Day 2, Meeman-Shelby State Park (TN) - April 13, 2014

This is part 2 of a 5 part series about the 5 half marathons in 5 consecutive days in 5 states trip that I recently took which was hosted by Mainly Marathons.

Part 1, and Kentucky, can be found here.

Like I mentioned in my last post about this trip, the days seemingly blended together. To me, the parks we were running in seemed fairly indistinguishable from the next, and other than the course on day one in Kentucky, they seemed fairly unremarkable. No worries though, because the reason that I do these series is less about seeing interesting places and more about spending time with interesting people.

Day 2's course was plotted through the Meeman-Shelby State Park. According to the Tennesee Parks Website, "Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park is a 13,476-acre hardwood bottomland area bordering the mighty Mississippi River 13 miles north of Memphis featuring mature Bald Cypress and Tupelo swamp. Most of the facilities are on top of the majestic Chickasaw Bluffs that rise from the bottomlands and are covered with large oaks, American beech, hickory and sweet gum. There are 10 state Champion Trees and two National Champion Trees as well as endangered and protected plants. Deer, turkey, otter, beaver, foxes and bobcats are plentiful throughout the forest. Over 200 species of songbirds, waterfowl, shorebirds and birds of prey, including the American Bald Eagle can be seen; the area is a favorite for bird-watchers."

We only got to see a small area of the park, as this was a 6+1 lap course, but what we saw on that course left an impression on me. I think that if I had to choose one word to describe this race, it would be Green. The course started in the parking lot near a picnic area, and we quickly found ourselves trekking through what felt like a living and breathing canopy of greenery. I had never seen colors quite like this and it felt like it was comforting in ways that I am not sure I could even put into words. This was by FAR, my favorite course of the Riverboat Series.

I know I've mentioned it before, but when I first registered for this series, I had hoped that I would be able to run all 5 races and in some way redeem myself from what I perceived as poor performance during the Center of the Nation Series back in September, but with my injuries never quite healing on schedule and then feeling residual weakness, I knew this wasn't going to happen for me during this series. Day 1 in Kentucky didn't help. My right hip really took a beating during the first day, and I was still scared of reinjury to my right heel and ankle... I had gotten a massage the day before which helped me tremendously, but I was definitely afraid of pushing myself. Through the help of some pharmaceutical intervention, I was able to cut the pain a bit, but I felt myself holding back. Though I was walking the course, I wanted more than anything to run, finish and do well, but even finishing at a walk meant getting out of my own head and letting myself go a bit. And in letting go, I kept finding myself getting distracted by the sheer beauty around me. I guess there are worse things to be distracted by...

You know that scene in Twilight where Bella and Edward are getting married and it this surreal forest wedding and they are blanketed by the most amazing foliage? That's the only thing that I can really equate this course to. Of course it wasn't really like this, and of course there were no glittering quasi-vampires or bad actresses, but still, this is what it felt like to me. And it made me happy. And it made me linger on the course.... taking each and every moment in, enjoying the simple fact that I was alive to experience this.

And then there were the butterflies. The only wildlife that I saw out there were the surreal moments where I was surrounded by the most beautiful groupings of butterflies that I ever saw. Butterflies are very special to me (did you know that the Monarch's DNA actually changes when it transforms from caterpillar to butterfly, something that I had always wished that I could do when I left my family of birth for my family of rearing), so this was a really neat experience in and of itself.

I don't have that much more to say about this race or the course, other than to say that I enjoyed each and every moment of it. My times reflected the constant lollygagging and self-reflection that I stopped for... and normally slower times would have bothered me... but looking back. I almost wished that I had taken MORE time on this course.

Finish time: 4:11:41

My time had me coming in last place for the half marathoners that day, qualifying me to receive the infamous gator bait (last place finisher) award. The award is on the sill above my desk, and every time I glance up, I am reminded of what a surreal experience this was. Thank you to Clint and the folks at Mainly Marathons for bringing me to this magical location.

To be continued...




*Disclaimer: Nearly none of the photos that you will see in the posts about this trip are mine. I chose to not bring my camera with me during the races and instead rely on other people. To the people who have contributed photos to help tell this story, I am thankful.

Riverboat Series Day 1, Columbus Belmont State Park (KY) - April 12, 2014

I've now been home from my last big runcation for almost a week, and once again, I am staring at a blank screen trying to think of how to write these blog posts in such a way as to do this fabulous experience justice. This is the first post of 5 regarding the Mainly Marathons Riverboat Series which took us through 5 states in 5 consecutive days (KY, TN, AR, MS, LA). For some reason, the days of the race are seemingly blending together... something which significantly compounds the problem of writing about this experience.

I struggle about writing for a number of other reasons, but mostly because of the other runners and the amazing volunteers. From what I truly learned on this trip, they are all amazing people with awesomely inspirational stories. Some people present had over 1000 full marathons under their belts, some folks were out there doing their first half marathons, some were celebrating milestones, some were just plugging away putting one foot in front of the other (like me). But each had a story. And each of them was absolutely amazing.

I was in awe (once again) of what I was seeing happening, even within myself. I've been through a lot this year. Getting injured in the early part of 2013 really played a lot into it. Yes, last year I was able to still participate in many half marathons including my 6 halfs in 6 days fiasco which included Center of the Nation Series (also by Mainly Marathons), but I also spent the greater part of the year in and out of the orthopedic surgeon's office, in various medieval torture devices for my foot, and searching for answers about how best to not only allow me to have a future at running, but ensure that I could walk in the years to come.

When I signed up to participate in the Riverboat series, I had high hopes that my foot would be back on the mend, and that I would be able to run all 5 races at my normal pace... but that just wasn't in the cards. A month ago, I realized that the months upon months in a boot had left my ankle weak and at an even greater risk of rolling (causing more damage). I accepted these limitations and went into this series knowing that I would be walking, and really getting my money's worth in terms of time on the course.

Which brings me to Kentucky, at the Columbus Belmont State Park. This gorgeous park, overlooking the Mississippi River (which I had never seen before) is a 160 acre park with chain and anchor used during the Civil War to bar the Mississippi River and separate the Union from the Confederacy. The course was a figure 8 with upper and lower loops. The upper loop, brought us up a steep hill (ridiculously steep) overlooking the Mississippi (and the spectacular view), past the anchor and chain, then around an antebellum home built in 1850 that once served as a Confederate hospital. From there, we traveled even further up a hill, and around a campground area, returning to the start, to wind through the second part of the course.

As if the hills in the first part of the course weren't hard enough, the second portion proved to be even more difficult as they brought us off the roadway and through the trails. To get there, we had to climb an almost vertical 4 foot area, then into the trails. It had rained heavily the night before, so the trail area proved to be slippery and muddy. When not working hard to avoid the mud, we had to be extremely careful of exposed roots (multiple people reported twisted ankles), and wildlife (SNAKES!).



When we emerged from the trails, we returned back to the start, collected our first rubber bands and repeated until we had earned the required number of rubber bands signifying that we had finished our distances.

I have to admit that this was by far my favorite course because the views were spectacular, this was also the hardest course I have probably done in my entire life. I went into this with an agreement with the Husbeast that if I was experiencing any pain, I wouldn't let my pride get the best of me and I would listen to my body knowing when to call it quits. I just didn't realize that I would be faced with that dilemma during the very first race. Being careful to protect my bad foot, to not roll my ankles on the trails, or slip in the mud was taking its toll on my body. By the 4th lap, I was having some significant pain in my right hip. Thankfully there was no pain in the foot or ankle, but every time that I attempted to bear weight on the right leg, the top of my femur would scream. It felt as if the head of the bone was going to shatter off, and brought tears to my eyes.

For the entire 5th lap, I found myself weighing the options. After a much needed pep-talk from Brina, I forged forward and finished the event. And looking back, I am happy that I did.

I finished in 4:29:28.



I was a little slower than I had expected, but all things considered (walking, pain, course difficulty), I'm still proud of my time.

After collecting my medal I treated myself to a massage from a fellow runner who was doing 30 minutes for $30 to raise money for charity. Without this massage, I am not sure that I would have been able to continue on to day 2. I was just that spent.

To be continued...




*Disclaimer: Nearly none of the photos that you will see in the posts about this trip are mine. I chose to not bring my camera with me during the races and instead rely on other people. To the people who have contributed photos to help tell this story, I am thankful.