Pounding The Cheez-Its Trail

Brrrr! It's cold out! I actually had to consider how much clothing to put on before running today. Haven't done that in a while. In case you're on the edge of your seat wondering, for the 50-ish degree temps this early afternoon, I opted for shorts and a long sleeved tshirt over my trusty stretchy, "compression" short-sleeved undershirt. Ah, I love that thing! It's so snug and cozy. And as much as I've complained about summer being over, it was nice to get geared up for a run instead of just thinking about how I'm going to avoid heat stroke.

Today I opted for another trip to Lunken for a Week 1 Bridge to 10K run, and I dragged my mom along with me (she walked, of course). I started at the southern end of the loop so I didn't have to worry about the short, crazy-steep hill midway through the run.

Good choice, Becks.

As my elementary and high school classmate (and running guru), Liz, says, Lunken is pancake flat. And that was just what I needed after my shin-wrecking runs of the past two weeks. No shin pain today!

My favorite part of today's run had to be during the second and third legs of my W1 workout. (For those familiar with the course, this was back on the part that runs parallel with Kellogg and then along some of the long backstretch.)

As I was staring at the ground (not the most healthy posture) and pounding away, I started to notice Cheez-Its. At first I thought it would be funny if these few Cheez-Its turned into some kind of "breadcrumb" trail. Then of course I started dreaming up the image of a runner with a baggie of snacks in his pocket. Or maybe a snot-nosed sweet little spawn of satan  toddler, screeching giggling and throwing snacks out of her stroller while her mom pushed her along on her workout.

Dontchya just love kids?

Well, in this case I do love kids, because the daydreaming kept my mind off my running for a little bit. The Cheez-It trail continued for probably about a half-mile, each one deposited maybe 50-100 feet from the other. And only one at a time. Finally, I reached the smashed Cheez-It, marking the end of the trail and, coincidentally, the almost-end of the "out" portion of my out-and-back path.

By the end of my run, I was wobbly-kneed but not dizzy, and I had cycled from freezing to frying and back to freezing again. My ears hurt from the wind and I was prepared for the upcoming nose-dive my body temperature was about to take.

Fortunately, my mom finished her walk just a smidge before me and popped over to the farmer's market next door to buy us an apple a piece. Yum! Then, as is becoming an unfortunate habit of mine following an Armleder or Lunken weekend workout, I stopped at Big Apple Bagels and got an everything bagel with veggie cream cheese. O-M-G. So good.

So, that's that! Good run.

In Run Like Hell news, the former coworker has officially registered for his very first 5K. I'm so stinkin' excited for him! And I'm excited about the event in general.

I picked up a few pieces to my costume yesterday. I'm actually excited about a costume for once in a very long time. I usually despise costumes. My typical explanation of those feelings goes something like this: "I have a hard enough time feeling comfortable in everyday clothes. How can you expect me to be remotely comfortable in a costume?" But, seeing as how this is a running event and everyone will be nasty and sweaty, I can definitely get on board.

PS, are you following me on Twitter yet? If not, I don't blame you.  =)  Nah, I'm actually trying to keep up with posting, including a few reposts of some great articles and quotes from the pages I follow. So, there's an option for you. My Twitter info is somewhere on that ---> side of the page. @MTLRunning

Later!  (feel free to point out typos ... I totally ran out of time to proofread)

The Cincinnati Flying Pig (Half) Marathon

I'm done. I finished. My feet (and toenails) hurt. I don't ever want to do anything longer than a 10K again. But apparently participating in these torturous events is similar to giving birth and getting tattoos (the latter which I actually know about), and I'm destined to want to do more. Not looking forward to that day. In fact, if you catch me slipping into the "I want to do another half marathon ... or heck, a whole marathon" mentality, please slap me ... hard.

Anyway, here's me at 5 a.m. on Sunday morning before heading out. Still nice and dry. (And excited about the new bib placement on my leg instead of on my shirt. Less snagging.)


Oh, in case I haven't mentioned it yet, the forecast for today in Cincinnati called for showers and storms, beginning at 6 a.m. (the race started at 6:30). Fortunately the rain didn't last the entire race, but it was definitely enough to drench everyone. It was also enough to soak my socks and shoes and to give me some seriously bad foot pain because of the intense pruning.

I was miserable. I was seriously considering quitting at least 3 separate times. What kept me going? Was it the drive to accomplish something huge? Was it the finishers medal? Did it have anything to do with the significance of the event? No. My driving thought was, "I paid for this sucker! I'm going to finish it!"

Even in the last mile, when my feet and ankle hurt so bad that I couldn't do much more than shuffle (not exaggerating in the slightest), I just wanted someone to bring me a wheelchair. I did manage to jog over the finish line, though I have no idea how I did.

So, on to some pictures and I'll fill you in in the middle.


Dark picture, but this is the band playing at the start line. Speaking of the start line, it took so long to get across it. There were 5 corrals (Pig Pens) leading up to the start. I'm not entirely positive, but I think it took 10-15 minutes to cross the start line. Whew!

Plus, walking to the Pens was a HUGE pain. The had fences erected to separate the sidewalks from the corrals (street) and THEN they put port-o-potties in that fenced-in sidewalk area creating a nasty bottleneck as my friend Sarah and I tried to make our way to Pig Pen E.

Speaking of Sarah, she was nice enough to stick with me through the entire first mile of the race. That was actually a really fun part. I ran the whole first mile and took two short walk breaks during the second mile and a few more during the third. My sock started rubbing funky on one of my toes during mile 4, so I stopped to adjust. Good story, huh? =)

My mom made her way from the start line up to 7th and Plum to watch me run up to mile marker 5. She snagged a few pics.

Dude dressed like a pig.

There's me in the light green Fernside shirt!

Speaking of Fernside, I raised $595 and some change! Yay!

Mile 5 and still trucking.

Hi mom!

Time for a pic with mile marker 5.

So, shortly after these pics, I continued down 7th, which turns into Gilbert, which is an enormous hill. I mean, HUGE. It's "The Hill." It's 3 miles of intense uphill followed by a lot more gradual uphill. As I expected, it killed me. I couldn't run up the hill at all and didn't expect to be able to. I actually had a lot of trouble walking up the hill. I hate uphills.

After the hill, I hit some pretty bad spots for me, including my first bout of wanting to quit. Nothing sounded better than a ride in a medic vehicle. With a few exceptions, I walked from the bottom of Gilbert (mile 6-ish) until the end of the race. I got a few short jogs in where the road was flat and on Martin Luther King where there were some little bitty downhills.

Then I got to see my coworker, Theresa, at the top of Gilbert and that gave me a little extra mojo to run down Gilbert. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to do it, but I did it. I ran the whole way down. That's why I pulled off a 15-minute mile that late in the race. (I'm good at downhills.) Another short jog across I-71 and down a hill on Central, and that was all she wrote.

Wait, I take that back. I did do tiny little jogs to see my coworkers Theresa (again) and Lisa and Lisa's daughter, Kate. I thought since they came out to see me, they deserved to see some action. Then that was it until my finish line jaunt (maybe 100 yards).

Bad, bad, bad. UGH!

Yes, I know I finished, but it was just so hard and I was so obviously not prepared like I should have been.

Okay, back out of the dreariness hole...here are the "Finish Swine" pics my pal Caitlin took when she met my mom to see me cross the line.

The Finish Swine

Check out the sign on the US Bank Arena.

There I am! Light green shirt, looking like death.

At this point I was choking up and was seconds away from hyperventilating. No joke. Couldn't breathe because I was freaking out, in pain, emotional, and my feet felt like hell.

Dying some more.

Pretending like I have some "kick" left in my step. I almost fooled myself here.

I'm glad these shots are from behind, because I was seriously puckered up right about now.

So, after crossing the line, we were given our finishers medals and a Mylar blanket, and ushered through the recovery area. Water, Gatorade, people to cut the tags off your shoes, bananas, fruit cups, donuts, potato chips, go-gurt, chocolate milk...

All I wanted was a banana and a spot on the concrete. It was crazy crowded down in Sawyer Point, so I found the first curb I could that wasn't covered in garbage or people and collapse to the ground--exactly what you're not supposed to do. But oh, it felt so good. My mom and Caitlin found me and I immediately showed them why I was in so much pain.

BEWARE OF GROSS PICTURES!!!

GROSS! ESPECIALLY IF YOU DON'T LIKE FEET!

Ohhhhhh! My poor feeeeeet!!!

And here I am. My only post-race shot with my medal. Yay feet!

So here are the stats:

Official finish time: 3:40:49
Official pace: 16:52/mile

Here are my lap times, recorded by yours truly on my iPhone, which I managed to keep try with my trusty bandanna:

0-1 13:44 (ran it all)
1-2 14:14 (few short walk breaks)
2-3 15:34 (few short walk breaks)
3-4 14:00 (yep)
4-5 16:36 (still yep)
5-6 16:10 (7th to Gilbert)
6-7 19:19 (up uphill)
7-8 18:29 (still uphill)
8-9 17:10 (still uphill, though less, but still walking, wanted to quit)
9-10 19:05 (wanted to quit and die)
10-11 15:58 (Hey hey hey! Downhill fun!)
11-12 18:24 (dying again)
12-13 20:43 (low point...shuffling and limping)

Here are the Flying Pig's official photographs.

Thank you to everyone who sent me emails and texts and Facebook messages. You're all wonderful and I could tell you were really happy for me and that you believed in me.

Thank you to those of you who donated to Fernside and contributed to such a successful fundraising project.

Thank you to Theresa, Lisa (and Kate), and Caitlin for coming to watch me.

Thank you to Sarah for signing up for the event and for sticking with me for the first mile.

And a HUGE thank you to my mom for getting up extra, extra early, chauffeuring me and Sarah to the race, standing in the rain, hiking all over the downtown area, taking pictures, watching me finish, taking me home, making me lunch, doing my dishes and taking care of me! I don't know what I would have done without your help today. I love you!

And with that ... I'm going to bed with my man, Mr. Biofreeze.

There Should Be An Award For Last Place

Unfortunately, Blogger has been a HUGE pain for the last two days and won't let me upload my photos (thus me posting this a day later than I promised). I thought I'd go ahead and post this without pictures and do a picture post later when I can actually get them loaded.

grumble grumble stupid technology grumble

There should be an award for last place.

I really do believe that. It takes a special person to finish last. It takes a special attitude to not quit in a last-ditch effort to avoid being last. "Oh, I didn't finish ... I just didn't feel right so I dropped out."

No, no, no ... a last place finisher deserves as much attention as a first place finisher. Yeah, maybe the last place finisher crosses that finish line when the awards ceremony is already halfway over, but that doesn't mean the whole crowd shouldn't turn around and applaud, and maybe--maybe they're chanting the last-place finisher's name.

Beckey!
Beckey!
Beckey!
Beckey!

"Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention away from Mr. Meb Keflezighi and toward the finish line. We are about to welcome the esteemed Ms. More-to-Love Beckey to our party. Let's cheer her on as she crosses the finish line at an astonishing 1:28:07 in 250th place out of 250 runners in today's 10K race."

(The crowd goes wild. Meb looks confused, but slowly joins in the clapping.)

I'm not going to say either way, but this scenario may or may not have been playing in my head for the last mile of Saturday's Rat Race 10K. So Meb wasn't there, but I'm pretty sure I was dying and I desperately needed something to keep me going. Granted, the fact that Caitlin told all the volunteers along the course for the final 3 miles to cheer me on did help a little, Okay, a lot. I still needed more. I was wiped out. My shin muscles wouldn't flex to bring my feet up off the ground, I was wet and cold and hot all at the same time, my lungs couldn't possibly take in any more air. The cheering crowd was all I had--er--I mean, all I might have had, had that daydream actually been playing in my head.

Yeah.

So, in case you haven't gathered by now, I finished this past Saturday's Rat Race 10K in ...

Wait for it ...

LAST PLACE

And frankly, I don't know that I've ever felt better about a finish. I've never felt like I left everything I had on the course. I never felt happier to cross the finish line after a run that didn't want to end. I never felt like I had just accomplished something truly not many people do.

I never wanted a hot dog more. Well, unless you count that time I was a vegetarian for 5 months... (photographic evidence forthcoming)

I had more individual attention in that race than I've ever had in a 10K, and not the creepy kind of attention. I'm talking about ...

• The volunteers who were happy to see me pass because it meant they could pack up and go
• The rest of the 10K runners who had already gotten to the turnaround and gave me words of encouragement when they discovered that they weren't last (something I kept reminding them of as they passed me:"Congrats! You're not last!")
  
• The idiots who were standing on the path or walking backwards through the finish archway who realized what they were doing when they saw me barreling (right...try trudging) toward them and when my mom yelled at them, "Ah, come on people!"
• My mom at the finish line with the camera
• And Caitlin, having crossed the line more than 2 minutes earlier, circling back around to watch me finish

(I like the last two best.)

=)

Anyway, it wasn't a bad run. It was freezing and raining the whole time, we didn't have time to warm up, we were amongst a group of rather serious runners (all the casual runners were smart enough to do the 5K), and my shins froze up almost immediately. But we did have gummy bears in our pockets for mid-race energy boosts (seemed to work for me!), and I clocked a 14:17/mile pace and beat the time of last year's last place finisher.

While it was definitely difficult and painful, I'm definitely glad I did it and I can see myself trying maybe 1 of these each year ... though now I'm considering the Cincinnati Thanksgiving Day Race (a 10K). (If I continue to consider that 10K, please make sure I remember the discomfort I felt the evening after the Rat Race, along with the day after that and the terrible post-race run the Monday following. Thanks.)

Extra special thank you's to Caitlin for picking this run out for us and for doing such a kick-ass job (this girl and her super strong finishes is meant for marathons, folks) and, of course, to my mom; she had the option of going or not, but despite the cold and rain, she put on my pink rain tarp (jacket) and played photographer for us. Thank you!

Up next, smushing some runs in before the Flying Pig (Half) Marathon on May 1. I'm pretty sure that one is going to kill me.

Oh, and some news ... I had planned on beginning Cincinnati Adventure Fitness Bootcamp for Women this coming Monday. Thanks to flexibility from the ABC folks and the advice of some wise friends, I've decided to delay camp for a month to make way for the Pig.

******

Fernside fundraising update: $531

A Plague of Gnats and Paparazzi

I’m having a fight with Firefox and Blogger right now. They’ve tagged up on me and are currently winning.

Shocker.

Anyway, I’m writing this blog entry on Tuesday night and will likely post it Wednesday morning. Frankly, I’m tired, getting crabby, and want to go to bed and refuse to wait any longer for technology to catch up. [*Update, I posted Tuesday night using an Internet sneak attack! Pow!]

So, despite that peppy intro, I’m actually feeling good (aside from a wicked exercise-induced stomach/lung ache … this one’s a weird one folks).

So, what’s up, Beck? Why the good cheer?

People, I just finished Day 1 of Week 3 for the third time. Better yet, I just finished Take 2 of Week 3 yesterday.

Confused? Don’t be.

Basically I’m trying to tell you that I just ran two days in a row. I believe this is a first for me. For some odd reason I’ve always tried to put at least one day between runs. I don’t know what delusion I was operating under, but clearly people run back-to-back all the time. But it was a little challenging. Whether it was the weather, my tired body, or me sneaking in some extra long runs (increasing 90 seconds to 120 in one case and tacking on an extra minute at the end of my last walking interval), today was a toughy. I’m predicting another 3 tries at Week 3.

But anyway, go me!

Today I brought along the paparazzi, otherwise known as my mom, (Hi mom!) to take pictures of me running. It seems so lame, and I have a hard time thinking that anyone would want to see me running, but for the sake of the blog and for the possibility that I will encourage others, here are pictures.

The very pretty pond at the new running path. Excellent shot, Mom!

In the poetic words of the Black Eyed Peas, "Let's get it started."

If you ever see this view of me, you're probably walking.

Check out that stride! I actually look like a runner here! Probably because I'm running down hill.

Where's Waldo?

I'll give you a hint: She's probably running toward the Cracker Barrel and Chik-fil-A signs.

A Rocky moment.

Post-run cheese. It's amazing that you can't see the massive drops of sweat pouring off my head.
Please don't zoom. =)

Me and the paparazzo, my mom.

Back to the running. Yesterday I encountered another “obstacle.”

Bugs. Ew.

My lovely co-worker, Sara (Hi Sara!) asked me not too long ago about how I deal with bugs on my run because she deals with them on her nightly walk. “Ummm … bugs?” [Insert dumbfounded look.] I haven’t had to deal with bugs yet, but boy did they make their appearance yesterday.

Open-mouthed panting + bugs = splatter on my grillz and wings in my peepers.

Mmmm … protein!

So yeah, thanks, Sara, for cursing me with the plague of gnats on my gnightly run.

Does anyone have any secret anti-bug-crunching tactic that I should know about? What dictates a run’s bugginess? Is it time of day? Weather? Landscape (soggy vs. dry)?

Also, could there be* a more difficult way to upload pictures? Am I missing an easy way to do this on Blogger? Ugh!

* "Look! I'm Chandler Bing. Could I be wearing any more clothes?