every walk is a sort of crusade
If I’m going to suffer, I’m going to make sure everyone who is subjected to this vision of me running by suffers too. Oh my god. Where did my chin go.
Work has been super busy this week, so I’ve had an extensive “recovery” for a race that really shouldn’t have required a lot of recovering (I’ve run a total of 2 miles). Fortunately today is our holiday pot luck at work, which means a heart healthy lunch is just around the bend. Last year people brought chitlins and chicken livers.
HAPPY FRIDAY!
Welcome to Pigeon Forge.
Yesterday I ran the Smokies Half Marathon. I signed up for this race for 3 reasons:
The race webpage described it as a run “in the hills of east Tennessee in mid-December, just north of Great Smoky Mountains National Park.” I envisioned a small-town run through the misty foothills. Sounds good to me.
Originally Paul and I were going to head up early and rent a cabin for a nice relaxing weekend, but then work exploded all over my life and we couldn’t leave early enough on Friday, so we just got a room at a local hotel and drove up Saturday.
Someone wanted to come with.
The morning of the race we woke up to a beautiful sunrise over the mountains.
The weather was very warm, but nice in the early morning. The pre-race scene looked something like this:
Santa hats everywhere! (Hi Mom!)
Since he forgot to bring his running shoes and couldn’t sign up to run last minute, Paul decided to volunteer. He donned his volunteer uniform with pride.
There is one road that runs the 13 or so miles from Sevierville (race start) through Pigeon Forge (where we stayed) all the way down to Gatlinburg. It is a busy road lined with tourist attractions. The course was an out-and-back along this road.
The fact that when I was originally looking for rental cabins in the area I had trouble finding one that did NOT have a heart-shaped tub probably should have tipped me off that where we were heading was not what I had envisioned when I signed up. It didn’t.
At 8am sharp we took off, a sea of Santa hats and beards (I didn’t wear mine, too itchy.) One by one we ticked by the wonders of the Smoky Mountains and Pigeon Forge.
Not exactly what I had expected. Will have to make it back to the mountains some other time.
Physically, the run was kind of awful, and for no particular reason. Despite the fact that we were in the Smokies, the elevation wasn’t bad at all (mostly rolling hills, which is what I’m used to training on).
The first few miles seemed longer than usual, but I was keeping a (mostly) OK pace and figured I could hold on to it/bring it down as I warmed up. Miles 5-9 I got into a groove and felt good. Mile 9 the verping started. Mile 10 started a downhill to flat to the finish line, but the verping got worse and I started to really feel it in my back and legs. Mile 10.5 I blowed up real good. …and the rest was ugly. Tunnel vision, borderline vomiting…it took me a good few minutes after the finish before I could talk. I just felt awful.
Final time: 1:50:20. What. Way too painful for that result. But sometimes that’s how it goes.
The good news is by the time I finished, Paul had made a new friend and really found his place in the volunteer village.
Attractions we missed on this trip included: the Dixie Stampede Christmas Show, the Biblical Times Christmas Dinner, Lumberjack Feuds, and any of the many, many indoor water parks lining that strip. But the (more) good news is…we can always come back!
And yes, that is the Titanic museum from the pictures along the route, shaped like the Titanic colliding with an iceberg.
More detailed race report (about the course, aid stations, parking, etc) to be posted here shortly.
P.S. I placed 8th in my AG. That is a personal record for me on any run ever by like an order of magnitude. Maybe I should consider entering more races with less than 800 people. The sad news is if I were a dude, I would have placed 5th.
…and it’s started early. Yesterday on NPR they mentioned that because of where Thanksgiving fell this year there is maximum number of days between Thanksgiving and Xmas…which means max days for catching “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” on the radio.
Speaking of Christmas music, at 5am yesterday morning I was subjected to an hour and a half of it while on deck coaching. I love holiday music as much as the next person, but it’s not December yet. I’m not sure how many times I can take George Strait’s “Christmas Cookies”. And this morning I found myself covered in ice after scraping a very thick layer of frost off the car (my cotton gloves were frozen). It’s feeling official.
Good news is the chicken coop is holding up. Temperatures in the past few weeks have dropped into the mid-20s (feeling like high teens) and so far their water has yet to freeze inside the coop. Good sign. And they’re still laying.
Another good thing: the Smokies Half Marathon in less than two weeks! After two months of smooth sailing on the running front, last week I hit a bump. I did an 11+ mile run on Thanksgiving day, 5 days after my 10.5 miler (the weather Thanksgiving day was gorgeous, and that weekend they were predicting freezing rain, so decided to squeeze it in early), and my body hasn’t felt good since. I’ve taken a few days off of running, but still sticking with some cross training (mostly swimming and yoga.) So we’ll see.
This has been a week full of wins.
Win #1: my parents came to visit Kentucky for the first time. In addition to paying for all of our food during their trip, my father broke the shower head in the guest bathroom. So we went out and got a $20 replacement at Home Depot. And when he hooked it up and turned on the shower…
Zing! Blinking color-changing disco shower in the guest room. I did not know these existed or this would have happened much sooner. The color correlates with the water temperature. Double win.
Also:
Two eggs in the penthouse. MAJOR victorious win.
Also: I went for a 10 (turned 10.5) mile run, 4 miles of which were in new territory (I ran there with Alison once last year, but just followed her lead). I didn’t write the new route on my hand, like I normally do…and I only got lost ONCE. And it was a minor kind of lost, not the holy-crap-Paul’s-going-to-call-the-cops-because-I’ve-been-gone-for-3-hours kind of lost. Add on to that a little bit of a change in scenery:
Serious personal win.
AND THANKSGIVING IS TOMORROW! On the docket: a 12ish mile run, a little work, a lot of family, and a 10K+ calories in mashed potatoes alone.
Bring. It.
Now that I’m actually signed up for a race (that is 4 weeks away…) it’s time to start throwing some longer runs into the weekly routine.
Saturday was a non-running day, aside from a 1.5m jog around downtown Lexington as part of a relay for Big Blue Crossfit, of which my friend Mary is a member (she asked me last second if I could fill an empty leg of the relay, I said sure).
It was a COMPLETELY GORGEOUS day in Lexington, and after a nice bike ride downtown, a yoga class, and the relay, I was ready to go be productive.
But before that, Mary suggested that we stop for a beer at a local pub with the rest of the relay team, where there were a bunch of Irish dudes watching the Ireland-Russia rugby game (Mary’s a big time rugby player/coach.) And because I have no social life, I said sure why not.
Enter: accidental day drinking.
Before I knew it it was 10pm and I was heading home still wearing my running clothes and not having showered from my 9am hot yoga class or the run…which was probably pretty awesome for everyone else in the bar.
Sunday: 9 mile run on the docket. Yeah, right. Most of the day was spent on the couch like this:
Finally, at 4:30, after nap #2, I dragged myself off the couch, pulled my running shoes on, and headed out the door.
The first 3 miles felt absolutely horrific. My stomach was sloshing, legs were heavy, I was verping every 2 minutes…it was gross. But I just kept reminding myself it didn’t have to be fast, I just had to finish it. I turned on a podcast and did the best I could to just zone out.
As the sun dropped the winds picked up and clouds started rolling in, making for some pretty spectacular skies.
Before I knew it I was actually moving along at a solid clip feeling a million times better than I had all day long. About an hour and 20 minutes later I walked back through the front door feeling like a new person. The difference in how you feel before and after those runs is really amazing.
Almost always worth getting off the couch.
It was a cold but beautiful morning to vote. Headed to the polls straight from the pool after morning practice. The last presidential election we were living in San Francisco. We got up early and walked around the corner in our jammies to vote as soon as the polls opened so we wouldn’t be late for work. Different crowd, different election, same vibe at the polls. There is something to be said for being part of the process.
It’s been a long time, but it’s happened again. After a tenuous year, I have fallen back in love with running. I don’t know if it’s the colder weather (which, by the way, has gotten much colder…first frost of the year was yesterday), or the fact that I haven’t done anything too long yet, but this weekend I did 5 miles on Saturday afternoon followed by 7 miles on Sunday morning…with no pain. I am hoping that I’ve finally shaken whatever it was that was plaguing me this whole past year (knock on wood).
While riding that high I compulsively signed up for the Smokies Half Marathon in December…because it’s always easiest to make these commitments when you’re sitting on the couch in your sweats.
The race is in Seiverville, TN, which is right next to Gatlinburg. I’ve never been to Gatlinburg, but Paul’s has been talking about going since we moved to Kentucky.
I didn’t realize until after I signed up that it is a Santa Hustle. Pictures of the starting line last year look something like this:
My mother’s personal hell (she has this inexplicable, aggressive aversion to those Santa hats.) The race packet comes with race uniform: Santa shirt, hat, and beard.
Also, in most pictures, it’s snowing.
I have yet to find anyone to run it with me…invitation is still out there.
Last year the Bourbon Chase pushed me over the edge into the dark abyss that was Blobtoberfest. This year it did the exact opposite. After 2 months of feeling off and being lazy, it kicked my butt into gear. For the past 2 weeks I’ve been running an average of 20-25 miles a week. Not fast, but more mileage than over the course of the summer. By quite a bit.
You’ve also probably picked up on the fact that I think fall is the best time of year to run. It’s just beautiful. Unfortunately, there is a downside in that it hasn’t been getting light out until about 7:30am (one thing that sucks about being so far west in the eastern time zone). Also unfortunate is that I don’t generally run alone in the dark, because I am convinced I will eventually get attacked. And most unfortunate of all is the fact that all of my morning running buddies have either moved away or left me in the dust and are just way too fast for me to run with anymore.
Today I really wanted to get a run in, but have a long drive ahead of me and can’t do it after work. So, armed with my pepper spray, I recruited another running buddy to come with.
…because he will protect me.
When I was training for serious I hated running with the dog. Now, I prefer it. We’ve found our groove and I usually only have to stop once for him to drop a doozer and me to clean it up. No problem.
On mornings like this, because it’s so dark, I attach our only small LED round light to the back of his harness. I figured it was either him or me, and since he usually runs next to me or just in front of me he could light the way. Like Rudolph.
(Someone didn’t want to run this morning and crawled back into bed.)
My view for the entire run was essentially this:
But it worked. The 6 miles flew by, the dog is (almost) as good as a person companion, and no scraped knees or broken elbows.
Though we both survived and there are very few things better than getting a good long run in first thing in the morning while the rest of the world sleeps, I’m still sticking with my policy on running alone in the dark. Unsafe.
This afternoon heading up north to Cleveland to visit Lisa in her new home. Very excited about that. Very.
happy happy weekend
Another successful year for team Jim Beam Me Up. Another unsuccessful year for the Spock ears I always want to put on the vans.
This year we had a runner drop out, but it turned out to be OK because JEN GOT TO RUN WITH US!
She was so excited.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Bourbon Chase, it’s a 12-person, 200-mile running relay along the Bourbon Trail across Kentucky that goes through all of the major distilleries.
Runners are broken up into 2 vans of 6, with each runner running 3 legs over the course of the trail.
The morning started out with a little rain, a 9:30am meeting, followed by a bourbon tasting at Jim Beam.
The only way to start an endurance event.
This year we were in Van 2, so had a few hours to kill before Van 1 finished off the first 6 legs. So we checked out the distillery…
…then we hit the road, where there was a lot of this.
Lunch options were limited, and we had 2 people in the van with dietary restrictions. We settled on a Mexican place in Central Kentucky.
I know. We almost changed our team name to Team Gringo Diarrhea mid-race.
From there is was off to Makers Mark for the first Van 1/Van 2 handoff.
The sun kept fighting to break through the rain, and we checked out the mash.
Ryan was the lucky first runner from our van. He took off around 5pm.
We ticked off the legs one by one…
…and ran off into the sunset.
Then it got dark.
And during leg #9, the rain came back with a vengeance.
Poor J. The rest of us spent a good 10 minutes in the van debating how important it was that we all be out on the course to cheer her into transition.
Traditional evening wear looked something like this.
Plus a few blinking lights.
We wound our way through the dark Commonwealth.
Until, after a lot of running and minimal “sleeping” in the van, I ran the final night leg into the sunrise…and the Four Roses distillery which, along with coffee, bagels, and hot chocolate, has the most delicious bourbon of all.
Then, while van #1 ran the next six legs, we crossed some bridges…
…past Wild Turkey and into Versailles for a deeelicious country breakfast.
People also took the rest time to start rolling out our stupidly stiff legs and familiarize themselves with the beauty that is Biofreeze.
After that, it was over to Woodford Reserve for the final exchange from Van #1.
As Ryan made his way up the massive hill that comes out of Woodford, the sun came out.
And it got hot. But beautiful.
The remaining runs were through horse country.
Jen ran the final leg into Lexington. The way it works is both vans go to the finish line and the whole team waits for the final runner, then everyone runs across together, cheering, while the announcer announces the team name, and it’s very festive and a very big deal.
Well. Jen ran so fast that our team wasn’t even at the finish line yet. Apparently the announcer was like, “TEAM 507! HERE COMES YOUR RUNNERRRRrrrrr.” And she ran across the finish line. Alone.
Fortunately, there was free bourbon to comfort everyone after the team fail.
And all was well.
Thanks goes out to Jen for making the flight all the way out here, J & Ryan for inviting us on the team, the peeps in Van #2 for only being mildly stinky and making 30+ hours stuck in a van a non-negative experience, and George for organizing another glorious weekend in bourbon country.
More pics here.
Specifically, my cube fish. He’s depressed. Even putting him in a clean bowl with fresh food didn’t cheer him up. I’m not sure what to do.
Bourbon Chase was this weekend. But work is busy, so you’re just gonna have to wait on an update. In the meantime, here’s a sneak peek at what’s to come.
I know. Don’t get too excited.
I’ve been in a funk for a while. Today, I decided to attempt to break out of it. How?
Step one: bake a cake of someone’s face.
…and then proceed to eat the whole thing by yourself over the course of the workday.
That is my coworker and his facecake. Today is his last day of work, which is the actual reason that I baked the cake, even though his departure and the consequent onslaught of work crap that is rapidly heading my direction is probably contributing directly to my level of funk.
Coworker’s departure also means a new cube addition.
Yup. Fish abandonment. At least my tree has a friend now.
Onward.
Step 2: Make up a new training schedule.
Despite being signed up for 2 races in the next month, I’ve been doing completely unstructured, haphazard training since Hawaii. And while I’m not looking to go back to 17 hours of training a week, a little structure sometimes helps keep you going.
That’s right. You know who to turn to when you need some structure.
I have been talking to J and my sister in law about potentially running a half marathon sometime this fall. So this morning, 3 pieces of facecake deep, I decided to brush off the good ol’ Hal Higdon training guide and integrate it into my current schedule of yoga and swimming.
I’m seriously considering shooting for a full marathon sometime in the spring (my sister and bro in law just signed up for the Catalina Island Conservancy Marathon, which would be hilly and brutal and AWESOME), but with all the running injuries I dealt with this season I’m going to stick with a halves for now and see where they take me.
We also just received our leg assignments for the Bourbon Chase. I’m leg #12, which means I get to carry the team across the finish line in dramatic fashion. Score.
In handing out the leg assignments the race directors also let us know that they had to change the route for two legs of the course due to the Burgoo Festival in Lawrenceburg and the Ham Days Festival in Lebanon, where they auction off grand champion hams.
Bring on the burgoo.
Rambulatory Ambulatory 