Winter Series III (shoulda been 10, weather made it 5)

I was SO ready for 10 grueling miles.  In truth, the weather wasn't too bad at the house.  When I set off for Baptist Road, I wasn't prepared for quite as much cold, snow and wind.  I wore 30 degree running clothes in 10 degree weather, with a 0 degree wind chill.  Sitting in my car with the heat cranked to 90 and the seat warmer full blast, I thought to myself, "We're all freakin' crazy."

On my walk to get my bib, I regretted leaving my warmer running jacket at home, but tried hard to convince myself that it wouldn't feel so bad after my warm up.  Frozen fingers pinned my bib to my shirt, as I hopped in line for the restroom.  A few times, I wondered if anyone would notice if I hid from the wind in the porta-potty, but I decided to take a jog, instead.  I ran north, and after 0.5 miles, I could feel the cold peeling away from my body.  Then, I turned around.  The wind was brutal.  I couldn't see or breathe, but fought to run.  Upon my return to the start, a volunteer looked at my face with fright.  "I hope you brought a face mask," he stated while peeling ice off of my face.  I almost hadn't brought a jacket.  I most certainly didn't have a face mask.

A few moments later, a friend mentioned that the race was reduced from 10 miles to 5 miles.  I guess Search and Rescue encouraged the change.  A weight lifted off my shoulders.  Five miles was easy.  On a normal day, so is ten.  Today, not so much. 

I raced pretty hard and finished in 3rd place with 38:01.  This is definitely a 5 mile PR, though I don't think I've ever raced 5 miles before.  I'm now a solid second, overall, in the series.  I'll never catch first, but I've never seen second, so I'm feeling pretty accomplished.  First place is out of my league.  Over three races, she is ten minutes faster. 

This has me questioning the difference between those runners and the rest of us.  Part of it is mass.  I didn't have the body of a dancer as a kid, and I don't have the body of a runner as an adult.  But a big chunk of it is discipline.  I'm a pretty disciplined athlete.  I wake up at 4:15 a.m. to swim or spin, and I typically end the day with running, riding or yoga.  (I do have rest days worked in)  The difference is that my workouts aren't focused.  I have incorporated some speed work on a treadmill, which I moved to the track this week (motivated by these thoughts).  But, most of the time, I'm just out there.  Today, my run didn't have a destination, focus or plan.  I just hit the trail and started running.  I'm not sure that I'm ready for a change.

Winter Series II (8 mi)

My goal for today's race was to beat 1:00:34, my 6.5 mile time on the first race of the series.  The first race is mostly grueling trail, but today's race is flat, slightly uphill on the way out and slightly downhill on the way back.  I anticipated running a 7:30 pace out and 7:00 pace back, without worrying about place.  In the end, I was pleasantly surprised.

I ran a comfortable 6:30 for the first mile, and let my body decide when to fall into pace on subsequent miles.  Watching my Garmin, I was continually faster than my anticipated mile times.  While I was nervous about burning out early, my body felt good at the current pace, so I decided to go with it.  I had no idea where I was in the standings for females.  I really hadn't paid any attention to the people around me.  Though, I began falling into place with a couple of younger guys at the third mile.  As we approached the 4 mile turnaround, I became aware that we hadn't seen a female, yet.  I knew one woman was in front of me, and I was becoming aware that this put me in second place.  I wasn't ready for that much pressure, but quickly began to change my thinking.  Many women were close behind, and now was my opportunity to create a larger gap in the race and the series.

I picked up my speed to 6:30 again for a couple of miles.  The two young men kept close behind.  After about two miles, they passed me at a 6:50 pace.  We ran shoulder to shoulder for the remainder of the race.  I didn't care about beating them, I just knew that if I gave up a cascade would begin: my pace would dwindle and the girls behind would catch me.  My mantras became, "don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me"  and "don't lose 'em, don't lose 'em, don't lose 'em."  In truth, I was probably quite annoying.  At a 6:50 pace, they were clearly just clocking some miles for the USAFA Track and Field team.  They held a casual conversation with each other the entire way.  I kept my best to stay out of it, but I was an uncomfortably close third wheel.  I lost them with about 1/2 mile to finish, when they began pushing their pace.

I finished at 56:38, about 9 minutes faster than last year, in 2nd place overall.  I owe my finish to the cadets that brought me in.  I was sure to thank them in the end.  I've moved from 8th to 3rd in the series, and I'm confident that I can keep my standing.  People ask me how I've improved my running so much all the time.  I'm really not sure.  There are so many variables to consider.  Perhaps it's the large amount of cross training, allowing my body more adequate recovery for the few runs that I do during the week.  Maybe it's that my few runs are long distance, hills or speed.  I never do a recovery run.  I save recovery days for swimming, cycling and yoga.  I'm also listening to my body and am more apt to take breaks.  I plan on taking March, April and May off from running and racing to allow for minor repairs and rest.  I think it's also the positive mental attitude.  I had a taste of speed and a year of PR's.  Now, I am testing my limits only to find that the human body is truly limitless. 

Winter Series I (6.5ish)

My Winter Series experience began with a bout of food poisoning on Friday night.  It turns out that root vegetables sitting in the fridge for a month eventually go bad.  Come Saturday morning, I convinced myself that I was feeling fine.  Mile 3 told a different story. 

Cheyenne Canyon State Park was in its full beauty on Saturday morning.  The sun was shining, and I was wearing a running skirt and short sleeves in January.  The cloudless skies and dusty earth at the start didn't tell the story of the icy trails awaiting us in the hills.  Luckily, I had many encounters with slick ice without screw shoes this season, so I planned ahead and wore them for the race.  I had read the trails were 30% covered, only to discover that they were probably 50-60%.  The ice is sneaky this season, melting during our warm winter days only to form an ice luge during the cold mountainous nights. 

At the starting line, I didn't recognize any familiar female faces, but began discussing training and Duane's injuries with a guy that races and trains with Duane.  This was not a wise place to start.  I found myself pacing with males that are usually finishing while I'm at the 3/4 point.  Though this wasn't a bad start, it definitely left me feeling embarrassed as the front women left me in the dust.  I didn't hold first for long (which was not a goal...as this race tends to draw faster shorter distance girls).  However, when I lost fifth, I was getting frustrated.  When I ended up seventh, then finally eighth, I just didn't care anymore.  I think I would have competed a lot better if it wasn't for fighting food poisoning around 3.5 miles.  I can't begin to explain the discomfort that I felt during this event.  Keeping myself from vomiting, or worse, was consuming my focus.

My goal was to compete in and around 1 hour.  I finished in 1:00:34.  I'm satisfied with my performance, and I'm hoping to beat this time in my 8 mile race next weekend.  My "secret" goal is to finish in the top 3 of the Series.  Though, I know this is somewhat dependent on who continues to fight through the drudgery ahead.  I also know that this isn't a likely goal, since I'm typically 4 or 5.  However, I'm interested in seeing what I'm capable of when my goal is outside of my safety net and I push myself to limits that seem impossible.  It's time I step out of my comfort zone.  

Rescue Run 10K: Setting the stage for 2012

I had a rough week, to say the least.  Tackling the holidays with a toddler should be enough to sum it up, but I also had the flu for my birthday on Friday.  I tried hitting the spinning bike, yesterday, to make sure I was well enough to race and I had a tough, sucking wind kinda ride.  So, I set off to race today with the intent to run, have fun and bring in the new year right.  In the back of my head, I knew I would run my hardest, but I certainly wasn't going to kill myself over it.  Besides, I had two glasses of wine yesterday, so I wasn't expecting much. 

Aspen had the right idea, this morning.  We intended to have her run the Diaper Derby with Duane, but she was fast asleep and when the baby sleeps, we are in full support of her deep slumber.  I'm pretty sure she and Duane planned to sleep in somehow.  Duane was happy to stay home, but only because he has fallen victim to the dreaded plantar fasciitis.  We had registered him for the Rescue Run and the Winter Series, but I think he'll be taking a break from running entirely, at least until the spring.  Though this is a frustrating time for him, it has helped us devote more time to multisport adventures.  We've enjoyed a couple of great Falcon trail rides and have explored gym equipment beyond treadmills. 

As I prepared myself for today's race,  I was a little nervous that I had just gotten over the flu and haven't been running as much.  I was nearly ready to back out of the event and curl up with a good book or run the Garden, instead.  Let's face it, racing is intimidating now that I'm actually racing.  Nonetheless, I rounded up my spirit and my things and headed out the door. 

It was a surprisingly cold morning.  But the kind of cold that makes you leave your hat in the car, because it doesn't look that bad, only to wind up diverting your warmup run back to your car to get said hat.  I'm glad I did this.  I continued a great warmup jog up and down the first hill of the race (a total mile) and hit the starting line with seven minutes to spare.  At the start, I encountered the usual suspects: the really fast girl, the girls that run around my pace, the girls that will try to pace with me and die on the hill, and the girls that are vaguely familiar (they also race everything). 

I had a solid first mile.  I'm really comfortable pacing on an uphill start, being that most of my training runs begin with a long hill.  My place was pretty set after the first mile.  Like I said, some women tried to pace with me, but I lost them on the hill.  And the women in front of me were out of sight.  Around mile 3, I was passed by a woman with so much gusto, that it made me wonder why she was behind me in the first place, like she started the race with her much slower male counterpart.  The final 1.5 miles are downhill.  At this point I was passed by a few men, who most likely gave it their all to not be beat by a girl.  They probably went home and took a nap, afterwords. 

In the end, I finished at 46:53 as the 5th overall and 1st in my age group.  Last year's finish was 54:43.  I was most excited that I was ahead of women and men that typically pace with or beat me.  Either they partied too hard last night, or my cross training is paying off.  Either way, look out Winter Series!

Rock Canyon Half Marathon

Jaclyn writes:

I don't normally post so quickly, but Aspen is asleep and I have a little free time.  We love this race.  The course is mostly flat and out-and-back.  It's probably our favorite because it's typically a PR and it's pretty cheap ($35).  It isn't the most magnificent course we run, but we really love running it.  There is a warm gym at the finish with donuts, fruit and drink to refill and you get a nice warm sweatshirt for entering (with a finishers metal this year).

The weather tends to be relatively forgiving in Pueblo for the race.  This year, however, it was cold, a little snowy and really windy.  We are both happy to have left Aspen at home for this one.  We are also happy that we have really good winter running gear.

I finished somewhere around 1:40:30 and in the top ten of females.  Without the results posted, I can't really confirm either of these things.  Overall, I'm pretty happy.  I had the goal to place in my age group (I placed 2nd) and finish in the top ten (not positive...but if I didn't, I was close...so that's good enough).  I have never run in the front of an out-and-back style race.  I didn't realize how frustrating it can be when slower runners are chatting shoulder-to-shoulder three across taking up the entire trail.  Nonetheless, I found myself playing chicken a couple of times.

During the race, I decided not to run a marathon this year.  Previously, I had wanted to run a marathon and olympic distance triathlon.  I'll stick with the tri, but I just don't want to run 26.2 and all of the distances between that and 13.1.  Instead, I've decided to work at improving my half marathon, continue half marathons and maybe find a women's only event.

Fall Series IV (7ish miles)

We loved checking out the course map before this race.  Though I thought I understood the course, I was only right about it being in Palmer Park.  Additionally, the map reported the mileage at approximately 6.5 to 7.4 miles.  Luckily, I am familiar enough with the park to have known when the end was near.

Fall series courses always change, and comparing this to previous years, I thought it was easier.  The race runs through some of the toughest trail within Palmer Park, but I felt that some key hills were left out.  Other people, Duane included, felt the run was tough.  I thought it was pretty easy.  Which indicates that I either didn't run hard enough or I couldn't feel my legs after descending 2,000 feet of road over 13.1 miles the previous day. 

I ran this race better than all of the fall series events.  I finally understood which runners were better pacers and went out with them.  Having lost a little bit of time to another competitor in the Ute Valley race, I was mostly concerned with keeping her off my shoulder.  She, however, didn't really compete in this race, running a much slower time than usual. 

I was able to finish as 4th place overall female and 1st place in my age group.  Duane finished 1st in his age group and 11th overall.  His focus was to maintain the 1st in age group position, which let his guard down to the 11th place series runner.  Needless to say, he lost 10th overall by a few seconds in this last race.  We look forward to competing as a team in the 2012 Winter Series, but we are preparing for our next event, the Rock Canyon Half Marathon.

Rim Rock Marathon Relay (26.2 mi...13.1 each)

Jaclyn writes:

The Rim Rock Marathon was an amazing experience, and probably one of my favorite races this year.  Having driven through Grand Junction and Fruita to raft Ruby Horse Thief or Westwater Canyon in the past, I hadn't thought much about the Colorado National Monument, until this race.  We anticipated doing well as a relay team and were hoping for first place.  Compared to the top marathon runners, we anticipated being in the top ten or twenty.  Up until this race, we had a solid training base and were ready to give a strong competition.

The race runs along the road, starting in Grand Junction and ending in Fruita, through the monument.  I honestly can't tell much about the first 13 miles, though another runner told me that Duane would be looking at cedars and dirt the entire time.  His leg involved about 2,000 feet of climbing.  He maintained the top 3 position, when around mile 10, he took 1st place.  I was warming up at the aid station, anticipating that he would finish around 1:50.  I was able to see the 1st place position for 1/4 mile at 1:30.  He kind've ran like Duane and seemed to be wearing the same clothing.  At 150 yards, I was dumbfounded to see that it was Duane.  My shock clouded my memory, and for a moment he needed to remind me to remove the timing chip and start running.  In disbelief, I followed the lead vehicle, while dreaming about crossing the finish line in first place.  After a short time, the excitement began wearing off.  Knowing that much faster runners were behind me, I began feeling like prey running from a fierce predator.  I lost first place at mile 4, but it was fun while it lasted. 

While I analyzed our competition and worried about other runners taking my spot, I'd take short breaks to remind myself of how beautiful the Monument is and not to look down.  The amount of dimension within the Colorado National Monument is amazing.  From a distance, it just looks like another mesa.  Up close, it has amazing canyons, monoliths and cliffs.  This race boasted the most amazing views, making it one of my favorites.  The Rim Rock showed the beauty we had hoped to see in the Canyonlands Half Marathon.  Rim Rock had so much more to offer.

I have never had so many "fans" in my life.  Many spectators and bicyclists cheered me on to the finish.  I didn't see any other runners for the remainder of the race, and I crossed the finish line in third place.  Finishing as the psuedo first female was a little awkward, though, in my mind, we were the first team.  Crossing the finish line at 2:59:45, I was disappointed to find that the first place runner was on a male team.  Duane and I finished as the second team overall and first in the coed division.  Better luck next time, and I know there will be a next time. 

Duane writes:

I have never won a race. And I still haven't. But I was the first runner to come into the 13 mile transition of the Rim Rock Marathon and that was the first time I have ever been the front runner in such a competitive race. It was one of the coolest highlights of my racing history, one that I'm not likely to repeat, and the excitement of handing over the first position to Jaclyn was priceless.

At the beginning, before the race even, I was the only one totally underdressed--which is to say, I was the only one not dressed for a winter run in, say Waldo Canyon--in just shorts and a short sleeve technical. I've long since given up carrying water or even guu on these runs because they're so well supported that anything I need would be available. Still, the Colorado Monument is famous for having a different climate zone than Fruita and I didn't know that. Luckily, my half was under mostly clear skies, a light, cold breeze, and up one of the most gorgeous stretches of road I have ever had the fortune to run.  I was counting on the breeze dying when we entered the shelter of the monolithic walls of the Monument and the furnace being stoked by 2000 feet elevation gain. I was fine.

Debating how to go out on the race had as much to do with the race Jaclyn and I I were going to be in the next day--the fourth leg of the Fall Series, in which I was defending my age group place from a runner who could easily catch the two and a half minute series lead I had-- and the fact that this race, a relay, was the culmination of a year long commitment that Jaclyn and I had made to run a half marathon a month. Finishing this race strong was our goal. So I went out solid. I wasn't up front, but I was far forward. As I passed each runner, I announced myself as a relay runner so that I wasn't egging on some unsuspecting marathoner. When the real climbing began about mile 2, I was in 6th place. By mile 7 I was in 4th. By mile 9 I was in 3rd. Most of the nine miles had been climb. Maybe 1 mile of coasting flats with a little down had been woven in. The 2nd and 1st place runners were within a long view and I decided that the Fall Series would end the way it ended; I was going for broke. The end of mile 9 was a climb and I took 2nd. I again said that I was a relayer and the response was muddled. It turns out he was a relayer too, but not an experienced distance runner. He said later at transition how much he appreciated what I said, but that at the moment he was totally confused by what I was saying, and had wondered why I was talking to him. When I took the first place position at the mile 11 water station, I was following the pace car for the first time in my life.

I spent the next 2 miles in the front and the conversation in my head was a mess. Another climb had me at my physical limit and the fear of the runner behind me kept me on edge. Turns out, the man I just passed would win the marathon, but when I came into transition, almost 90 seconds ahead of him, I was a hero. Jaclyn was waiting, but she was in so much shock that I had to remind her about getting the time chip off my leg. She took off so fast that I don't think she had ever started a race as fast. The excitement was contagious. That second place guy I passed at mile 10 transitioned with his partner who was almost 3 minutes behind. He said his partner was an experienced runner and a strong runner, but I told him and the crowd of other relayerers waiting for their teammate, that so was my wife. I told them she could win the whole thing. She didn't. Our team finished third in the overall, but for more than a couple of hours, I know that a whole bunch of people, inspired by my finish and the unknown x-factor that was Jaclyn, were cheering us on.

What a great day and we have learned that we make a great running team. We're running as a team at least once a year now, or so we've said to each other. I can't wait for the next transition.