Too many to count, and innocence lost - Boston Marathon 2013

PHOTO BY AP PHOTO/CHARLES KRUPA

I remember the first time I was in the middle of danger.  I hadn't been in Iraq for 24 hours when I was walking to the chow tent for breakfast, and we heard "whiiiiiiiiiiizz", and saw plumes of smoke and flying debris.

I had no idea what a mortar looked like or sounded like.  But really fast, we learned because the closest protective bunker was about 50 yards away.  We literally dodged mortars all around us trying to get there, and when we finally reached the bunker, we stayed in there for a good 5 minutes because the mortars kept coming.  This was unusual - usually its one or two, and they're done.  For insurgents to lob over TWENTY mortars into the base was risky, because it exposed them to be discovered.

Welcome to Mosul, Iraq, friends.  Where six months before, someone walked into the dining hall and self-detonated.  The only thing worse than living through that was calling my husband afterwards, knowing that the attack would be on the news.  He was so brave on the phone, but I know he was dying inside.

And then there was the time when we were in the chow hall, and we heard the explosion - a mortar hit the generator just outside the hall, throwing us out of our chairs onto the concrete floor.

Then there was the time where a mortar landed in the handwashing station just outside the chowhall at 5PM.  It didn't detonate.

Then, two weeks before I was to come home, a mortar landed 20 meters from my CHU (containerized housing unit - a trailer, essentially).  I woke up to the boom, and flying debris hitting my trailer.  At that point, I thought I was going to die.  When I saw my neighbor later that day, she told me that she was on her way to take out her garbage when she decided to start her coffee pot first.  The mortar landed right by the dumpster, and coffee saved her life.

And all these were just from my first tour.  The second tour, shit got closer.  Once when I was in the makeshift bathroom at a command outpost in Tarmiyah (yes, folks, I was sitting on the can, and dirt got in my pants), and the other hit two trailers in my living area, opening up the sides like a tuna can.

Explosions, no matter how few or how many you experience, feel just as frightening as the first time.  The feeling of being knocked off your feet simply by the pressure change these explosions create is surreal, almost Matrix-like.  What's left over is the constant ringing in my ears that keeps me up most nights.

Thankfully, most people in the free world don't experience any of this - and I was always thankful for that.  This all is the bullshit that goes with the territory of being a soldier at war.  But watching what happened at Boston yesterday on the news ripped my heart.  Seeing the runner in the orange jersey fall to the ground from the pressure wave of the blast is something with which I'm all too familiar.  Innocence was lost across so many generations.  And the lives of three - so far, including an 8 year old - are lost.

And sadly, I wasn't surprised.  We can take a million and one precautions and evil will find a way to sneak in.  Frankly, I'm surprised the likes of this had not happened already at Boston or NYC...large events with international presence and the attention of people around the world.  It's a stage that evil craves.

My heart goes out to everyone affected.  And I grieve that my running friends who have nothing to do with Iraq or Afghanistan now have a glimpse of how this feels.

But in the meantime - actually, for a lifetime - we remember those who rushed to help, those who crossed the finish line and then ran to someplace to donate blood.  The residents of Boston who opened their homes to strangers.  Evil wants to leave fear and chaos in it's wake.  And in the short term, it will.  But evil only keeps coming back because it's goal is never achieved here...we stand up, we hold out our hand to others, and we drive on.  Goodness and kindness will always win.

Catch-up (in other words...too much to think of something clever)

Man, where do I start...

A *lot* has happened since I last posted.  D has left for Army training in Missouri for 5 months.  I turned 39.  Work has been busy.  I've been cycling more/running less (I need to reverse that a little).  And I am purchasing a new bike.

Now, there isn't much to say about D leaving.  It happens in military families.  I did it twice in the first three years of our marriage.  He was gone for a year while I was in nursing school.  5 months should be nothing, right?  Well, this time it was so much harder. 

In April, we will celebrate 8 years of being married.  And for the 4th time, we will celebrate apart.  And I think it really hit me this time.  I miss him, terribly.  And yes, people say I should be thankful that he's not in a warzone this time, it is very likely that he will once this school is finished.  And he wants to go.  And I will support him, as he supported me during my two combat tours.

A few days after D left, I turned the big 3-9.  And you know what, I was excited for it.  My 30s were awesome!  I met D.  I served honorably in the Army for 8 years.  I finally finished my nursing degree 10 years after I started.   I started running at 34 and have met a wonderful network of friends through it (and more recently, through cycling).  While D was not here to celebrate, one of my best friends with whom I *thought* I was having a quiet dinner, invited more of my close friends to celebrate with me at TRATA.  I don't think I can ever relay how much that surprise meant to me.  For this transplant, Rochester really felt like home.

"The Corporal's Breakfast"...essentially an Irish Car Bomb with bacon.

Oh.  My.  Cholesterol!  Buttermilk fried chicken with mashed taters!!!

Despite the blizzard on Friday (after working 3 nights in a row), I ventured out in my trusty Subaru to get fitted for a triathlon bike.  Now, the story behind this is interesting, to some. As some may know, my husband has a "hobby" in collecting large implement and equipment.  Think:  Backhoes, bulldozers, tractors.  And yes, this is silly when we live in the city.  But his thinking is that when we are ready to build on our land these will come in handy and save us money in subcontracting the house's foundation.  So, when he also purchased a used pickup truck (for a great price, I'll give him credit for that), I decided then and there that I needed to indulge in a toy myself.  After he did his test drive and asked if he could buy it, I said: "Sure, if I can get my tri-bike in time for next year's racing season."

And there you have it. 

I got fitted at Geneva Bicycle Center, and will pick up my new (two) wheels the first week in March.

And no doubt, I'll get more use out of it in the next four months than that bulldozer will!

It's the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit...

The past few weeks, put together, became the last piece of the puzzle that I've tried to put together over the past few months.  Finally, when I crossed the finish line today at the Rochester Half Marathon, the puzzle was finished.

A few days/races/events made up that piece:

-The Dirt Cheap Stage Race #6 (which was my first race since April, and my first trail race since January or February)
-The Wine Country Ramble (a women-only cycle tour of Canandaigua)
-The Rochester Half Marathon

A little summary for those who don't know...the end of June, Dave and I were excited to learn that we were pregnant.  I took it easy, didn't run some of the races I planned to do, in order to give the three of us a good start.  My first appointment with my doc was "A-ok".  But the day after that appointment, I miscarried.  And that was my undoing.  I'll save the stew of emotions that followed over the next several weeks (and even today), but it was hell.  But I think the first thing I told my friend Barb was "I need to do SOMETHING.  I'll make the best of the next 5-6 weeks until the Rochester Half Marathon, and do it".

I'm good at lying to myself enough to get the job done, but it wasn't so easy this time.  I wasn't cleared for another two weeks to run, and even then my hematocrit (percentage of red blood cells in my blood) had subsequently dropped significantly.  3 mile runs felt like the Bataan Death March.  Many times I wanted to say "eff it," and not run the half.  In fact, I seriously contemplated giving up running for a while, because my miserable workouts only reminded me of why I was in the situation in the first place.  I gave up something I loved for something I so badly wanted...and came up empty in more than one way.

But a few weeks ago, I got an email from a co-worker with some pretty inspiring pictures.  One of our burn survivors, ran a 5k not two months after his discharge from the hospital.  And to see those pictures, with his hot and uncomfortable compression gear he has to wear as his skin continues to heal (during a hot day already), I decided then and there to quit throwing a pity party for myself and start training harder, regardless of how it hurt.

And for some reason, my runs started to fall in to place.  At first, I needed the iPod (which for those who know me, I am VERY much anti-iPod on runs).  I needed the volume (which was very loud) to literally drown out all the negativity in my head.  And it worked (thank you, Evanescence!)

So my first race since April (the Flower City Challenge) was the Dirt Cheap race.  It's the shortest but most hilly race of the series.  And I guess I can say I held my own.  Trail running, as much as I love it, still intimidates me.  And it was trail running that I gave up when I found out I was pregnant (since I'm a bit clutzy).  So to return to it was bittersweet.  But I ran most of the hills, enjoyed the single track and the silence, and even enjoyed the burn of the sweat in my eyes.  But hands down the best part of the evening was seeing my husband afterwards, and dinner with friends.  I can't remember laughing as hard as we did that night.  Therapeutic!

A few days later I participated in the Wine Country Ramble, an inaugural event that gave participants a lot to do:  3-4 routes of varying distances, bike maintenance and yoga clinics, free wine tasting and tours at Sonnenberg Gardens, and delicious pasta stations and (more!) wine at the Wine and Culinary Center.  This ride was also a big step for me, as I had never done a ride on hilly terrain (which pretty much defines Canandaigua)  Running up hills is so much easier!  I went conservative and only rode 17 miles on Saturday, but I felt really great afterwards and wanted to try more.  So Sunday I picked the 33 mile route - quite a challenge, but the beauty of riding along Canandaigua Lake made up for it.  I took on hills that I NEVER imagined I'd tackle, let alone pass some riders.  I met some really great people that weekend, too - hopefully future cycling buddies!  I was totally whipped when it was said and done, but I felt great.  I can't wait for next year's event!

Wine tasting at Sonnenberg Gardens...refreshing after a ride!

made-to-order pasta station was quite popular.

bowtie with portobello mushroom, tomatoes, squash, olives, chicken.  With basil and alfredo sauce

Start of one of the rides

owners of Cycledelic Studio had delicious munchies!

East side of Canandaigua Lake, at Vine Valley

heading to the aid station/turnaround point on Sunday - Vine Valley

Heading back to the finish...

Rochester Half Marathon:  23 September, 2012

A lot was hanging over my head with this race.  I PR'd last year.  But with my training (lack thereof) this year, I just wanted to finish under 2:15.  Once again, great weather was a blessing (despite the threat of rain, it was sunny and 50 degrees!)

Barb wanted to be sure to post a pic EARLY.  You know I'm only kidding, right?!

Me and Dave G, my clinical instructor from nursing school.

Racing team membership has it's own privileges...our own porta-potty WITH toilet paper!

I met up with my friend Amy in the parking lot and we headed to the start line together.  I then met up with Dave, an NP at Strong, who was also one of my clinical instructors.  Our plan was to run together (more on that later) as we had similar finish time aspirations.  We started together, perhaps too far back in the crowd.  But as we got onto East Avenue we split just past mile 1...Dave had a great pace, but it was just too much for me this early.  I usually take it easy for the first couple miles in a HM, but knowing the hills to come, I wanted to be conservative.  I can't say that seeing him running into the distance was sad for me, as with the sun I couldn't see much of anything.  I missed Phyllis cheering on East Avenue, but was able to catch a former co-worker Eric across from Strathallan. 

Winton and Highland was more difficult than last year.  My legs were burning, but I knew it was relatively short lived - and along this part of the route is always full of cheering crowds.  A girl that I deployed twice with, who is an officer with RPD, gave me a thumbs up as I passed her along Highland, and I counted the steps until we turned onto Clinton.  The Blonde Musketeers (Sandy, Megan, Kathy and Wendy) were a welcome site along this part of the route, too!  And Duane, Chuck and Jill were thankfully cheering at all the right spots where I needed them the most!

I badly needed something to drink once I turned onto Clinton, but instead I wore the Gatorade because the plastic cup (they better return to the paper cups next year) split as soon as I grabbed it.  This happened at every aid station for the rest of the race.  I was not a happy camper.

But...left foot/right foot/repeat...keep on going.

After I got to the Canal Path, I really started to unravel.  My hamstrings and quads hurt.  My throat was dry.  And my necklace broke.  I wasn't feeling as strong as I was last year - understandable - and it was really becoming more evident that this may not be a great race (and I wasn't sure if my ego could tolerate).  But I thought again about our burn survivor who ran a 5k (and who coincidentally came to Rochester last night with his family to thank all the staff who saved his life), and decided then that I needed to quit being a sissy and suck it up.  I met up with Amy about half a mile before Genesee Valley Park, which was a welcome sight!  We gave each other encouragement, and started wargaming what our finishing time would be.  I wasn't sure if I would PR at this point, but I was contemplating slowing down.  I would rather miss a PR by 5 minutes than to miss a PR by 30 seconds (which was where I was at this point).  Again...right foot/left foot...  And at 10 miles, I almost thought to walk.  I was tired, but deep down I knew I couldn't throw in the towel quite yet. 

For the rest of the route, more of the same.  The incline to Ford Street was oddly brutal but the slight decline down Exchange was a welcome relief, as was the Perinton XC team (which I remembered from last year...ALWAYS enthusiastic!)  One more incline up Plymouth, and I was pretty much home free, but I didn't feel energized like last year.  Every step was a conscious effort.  My tank was running on vapor.  I saw Michelle and Duane on their bikes as I neared the final turn towards the finish line - I wave and smile weakly.  Please, don't let me bite it and fall on my face.

I turned onto Morrie Silver Way, and the finish seemed so far.

I heard Ellen call my name as I approached the finish.

I saw Barb at the timing tent.

I also saw the gun time as I approached the finish.

And for the first time crossing a finish line, the water works started.

And I felt really, really stupid.

I can see crying for running my first sub 2-hour.

But for as shitty as my summer had been, to nearly give up running after we miscarried, and to then PR on so little training (a method for which I'm not advocating), I never in my dreams thought it would end this way.  I don't know where it came from.

And then I saw a fellow Endurance Team teammate Jim just as I got my medal.  And I cried again.

Okay, Krista.  Seriously.  Get an effin' grip.

Finished!!!

One great cheerleader, photographer...and most of all, friend!  Barb!

Gun Time:  2:07:24 (in 2011 - 2:08:59)
Chip Time: 2:06:23 (in 2011 - 2:08:07)

Half the battle, but full-on fun

Part Deux...


My fun-filled first weekend of vacation ended with the Flower City Half Marathon (the day after my first duathlon).  I didn't train FOR this race, per se.  But I had the mileage under my belt, and had no expectations (but no limitations).


My last attempt at this course was back in 2010.  I was way undertrained, about 15 lbs heavier, and had a stomach bug the day before.  In summary, I stopped sweating at mile 6, puked 3 times in Mount Hope Cemetery, and was in tears at the finish - the only time I cried after a race.  I stopped running for a few months afterwards until I got my head out of my butt and decided to learn from the experience.


I was definitely sore after the du the day before, but felt alright when I woke up the next morning.  It was still chilly, but this bodes better for a run than for a bike ride.  Thankfully my friend Michelle Swisher was running the race, too.  I needed a buddy to get me through the course, especially miles 6 thru 8-ish, with the hills.  We kept a way easy pace, and I was nervous about feeling as good as I did as we approached the first big hill on Goodman (for all the things that collapsed for me during Sehgahunda - the training and race - last year, I did learn how to run a hill more efficiently).   We chuckled as we heard other runners comment out loud "Oh, I bet this is the last hill/only hill/worst hill!" as we peaked Goodman, and we kept trucking.


I still felt good as we got to Mt Hope Cemetery.  Michelle said she was feeling a little beat (a rock in her shoe didn't help, I'm sure).  I still had gas in the tank, I was chafing under my shirt, and ready to be done.  So I picked up the pace as we were almost out of Mt Hope Cemetery, and just cranked the last 3 miles out as hard as I could (honestly, I felt bad...Michelle had paced me through the toughest part of the course, but let me go).  We had kept 10:15/10:30s throughout, but the last three miles were all sub-9:45s.  At this point, I just wanted to leave it all on the course (yes, for me, that pace IS leaving it on the course!).

As I passed out the final gate in the cemetery, I thought:  this year, I kept my stomach contents out of Mt Hope!  #winning...

I grew increasingly excited to get to mile 12 as I ran past the University of Rochester, where fellow teammate Kelly Schroeder, and members of the middle school orchestra she teaches, were playing as we approached the Ford Street Bridge.  The song they were playing as I passed - Firework, by Katy Perry.  One of my favorites!

One of the prettiest sights on the course.  Not because it is near the finish, but you can take in the great Rochester skyline.  (Hey, look...there's Chuck and Coco!)

 

Finish:  2:13:01...about 5 minutes off my PR - not bad for dead legs!  If I had only trained...

Born to DU it...

A new year, a new adventure.

In a nutshell, and after a lot of talking with my spouse (who doesn't tell me what to do, but he can hear my knees' constant "constructive criticism" of my distance running), I decided to try something new:  multisport.

D is incredibly supportive of this, as he was an avid biker in his youth (and still does quite a bit of it, when he's healthy).  Supportive spouse = carte blanc to buy stuff!

But seriously, I sprained an ankle pretty badly again in February, my knees constantly crack, and I had to think about something I could do in the long-run (no pun intended).  What if I was injured for a long time, or could not run?  As we start to plan for a family, is my potentially gigantic pregnant self going to be able to pound the ground?  I really wanted to explore other things.  I went on a few rides last year with some friends, and while those were my first rides of anything over a "commuter" distance, and I had a hard time on hills, I really loved the challenge!  So maybe incorporating biking would be the way to go...

Now, D got me a pretty nice bike back in 2008 (2008 Specialized Dolce Elite).  And I rarely ride it.  That needed to change.  Flower City Challenge was the perfect opportunity to knock the dust off it, and see what I could do.

Of course, I can't just do one thing - I signed up for the "Double Du":  race the duathlon (5k run/20mile ride/5-ish k run) on Saturday, and the half marathon on Sunday (as a side note, I also signed up for the Ride for Missing Children century ride for mid-May)

Yep, I am far from fast, but I'll tackle ridiculous challenges to make up for it.

TRAINING:  I wasn't able to get out on my bike as much as I hoped, whether it be due to bad weather on the days I could ride, or simply being so tired after a 12 hour shift that I didn't feel safe riding in traffic.  On those days, I went to a local indoor cycling studio, Cycledelic, which really helped me get some saddle time.  Cycledelic doesn't promote "balls-to-the-wall-spinning-so-fast-that-you-launch-yourself-off-your-bike", but tries to simulate outdoor biking, hill climbs, etc.  Without a doubt, Cycledelic really complimented my training.

I also went out on the actual Flower City Challenge bike course a few times, which is a little hilly for the first 8 miles or so.  And every single time I struggled with the final hill on River Road, whether it be dumping my chain because I didn't pace myself up the hill (and had to shift - poorly), or just had to get off.  This did not bode well for my confidence.

And, as usual, I did as much "tired" running training as I could (which is pretty much my norm anymore), whether that be two back-to-back hard effort days, running a race after running 5 miles as a "warm-up", or running after a night shift when I'm dog tired.   This helped me immensely during my training for the Rochester Half Marathon last year (where I PR'd).  I hoped it would produce similar results this time around.

RACE 1 - DUATHLON:  After fretting about the weather (start time temps were predicted to be around 30, with frost warnings), and finding, perhaps, the last pair of size Small non-thermal running tights in Monroe County, I felt as ready as I could.  Jason, a friend from nursing school, parked his car at my house (which is only a couple blocks from the starting line), and we rode over to the park and set up our bikes (and his PBR in his bike's water bottle cage) in transition.

My only goals:  1)  Don't dump a chain or fall off my bike, and 2)  Stay out of people's way.

I took it easy on the first run (31:12), making sure not to break into a heavy sweat and thus freeze my kiester off on the ride.

For the ride, again I took it relatively easy in anticipation of the hills.  I was able to stay in the saddle through most of the hills, and even passed a few people.  All I wanted was to not have to dismount (or put my chain back on)...mission accomplished!  The wind was relatively light going out, but on the way back, there was a little wind in the face that I hadn't experienced before (I assure you it wasn't because of my speed!).  The intersections at Jefferson Road were well patrolled by law enforcement.  And the volunteers freezing their butts off - well, they were just fantastic (thank you, Michael Shortley and Carl C!!!).  Bike time:  1:21:03.  Not as fast as I hoped, but time was not a key goal.

When I dismounted at the transition, I truly felt like I was going to fall on my face, and was glad that my teammate Laura was working the transition entrance (assuming she would catch me!).  I had a brain cramp at the racks trying to set my bike back up (note:  it just hangs by the seat, no need to hoist your whole bike over the rack for any reason.  Of course, I didn't realize this until the rider next to me said "what the hell are you doing?").  I took forever to get my bike shoes off (note - get velcro!).  I shuffled out of transition for the last run, which was rough for the first mile, as the ever-so-slight downhills by the bridges really freaked me out.  Once I covered that mile, I felt better, but also felt as if my legs were a separate entity from my body.  Surprisingly, my pace was faster than the first run (26:32 for 2.8 miles)

Final time (with transitions):  2:24:07, 6 of 10 in AG)

Hindsight:  Quick and to the point...I ((heart)) Dus!

Opportunity Cost: The Economics of Races

I have a college friend who recently ran the Las Vegas Rock n' Roll ("RnR") Half Marathon, and had a great time.  But as we all know, a bad experience gets a lot more exposure.  And considering the exposure the Las Vegas RnR received (and it not being good), I started giving a lot of thought to how lucky I am to live in Rochester, where local race timing companies invest a lot of interest, sweat equity, and money into a great running community, and don't require you to mortgage your house to run a good race.


I majored in Economics at Ashland University, and I remember one of my professors, who was rumored to be a recovered alcoholic, taking on the challenge of graphing the opportunity cost of drinking beer over Diet Coke (his beverage of choice) while at BW-3/Buffalo Wild Wings (which was across the street from my dorm)  Three bar tables pulled together, countless bar napkins scribbled with graphs and economic formulas...while I still laugh when I think back on that night, the concept of opportunity cost is one I don't forget, and is quite applicable to selecting races.


Opportunity cost is defined as the value of the next-highest valued alternative use of a said resource.  


Clear as mud?  Here's a running (shocker!) scenario...


If you spend money on an expensive race, you can't spend that same money on a less-expensive race.  Thus, the opportunity cost of that expensive race is the pleasure and money you might have saved (in travel, hotel, etc.) if you had run the less expensive race.  This is, of course, assuming that the less-expensive race is also an enjoyable one, but I use this example because in my experience, local and less expensive races have been just as good, if not better, than the pricier ones.


Some say that these big expensive races draw interest because of the elites running them.  I don't know about you, I don't run for who is running towards the front of the pack (like I'll ever see them).  While I admire the likes of Meb and Kara,  their appearances never have, and never will, fuel my desire to enter a race (now, if I was single, and it involved a date with Josh Cox, we might be on to something!).  And to be honest, we have some local elites that I enjoy watching much more.  I run with them (actually, I run the same route...running "with" them is quite a stretch!), I see them in the community, and I've gotten to know them beyond their racing times.  Quite frankly, I'd watch Mark Andrews any day over Kara Goucher.


Below, I picked the "early registration" fees of two races I've done (Flower City and Columbus Half Marathon), compared to the cost of some popular RnR races.  I picked Flower City because it is a "theme" race in that it highlights historic areas of Rochester, and Columbus because it has a lot of entertainment value (like RnR) without being part of the franchise.



Flower City Challenge Half Marathon (Rochester, NY)                         $50.00
Rock n Roll Las Vegas (Las Vegas, NV)                                       $130.00
Rock n Roll Philadelphia (Philadelphia, PA)                                       $85.00
Rock n Roll Virginia Beach (Virginia Beach, VA)                               $85.00
Nationwide Insurance Columbus Half Marathon (Columbus, OH)          $50.00




As a co-planner of a trail marathon over the past few years (and with the keen understanding that a smaller race doesn't really compare to a big race), I have empathy and appreciation to the hard work that goes into planning something of the magnitude that is RnR Las Vegas.  And for $130 I would expect them to be doing it better than the next guy.  However, some of the horrible account I've heard from Las Vegas include questionable water quality (whether or not the water itself caused many people to become violently ill I'm unsure.  If so, I would guess the culprit was chemical not bacterial), dangerous crowding and significant lack of medical personnel.  This is on top the "swag" shortages of running out of medals, shirts, and mylar blankets.


My experience at this year's Army Ten Miler was also an indication to me that money spent does not equate to quality of an event.  However, having also run ATM two years ago, I'm not going to write it off yet.  This year, the course start and finish was changed (which was Pentagon mandated), but this change was poorly managed by the race.  Lots of crowding, difficulty navigating the finish line, and watching amputees being carried across concrete barriers to get out of the Pentagon complex were a few issues that definitely need addressing.  I love the ATM and the environment, but a week later I ran a local, small 10 miler and just enjoyed the experience more (and even performed a lot better).  Will I do the ATM again?  Maybe, but only if the clusters from last year get fixed.  I survived and did okay, but watching amputees who just finished a 10 mile race needing to be carried over barriers to get back to their hotels is downright disgusting, and poor traffic planning on behalf of the race management.

Living in a city that has been hit with the economy's iron fist, as well as running for a team sponsored by a LRS, I have come to greatly appreciate the hard work and effort YellowJacket Racing (the main local race management and timing company) puts into their events...they employ local people, pay taxes to support local infrastructure, and along with the two LRSs the owners operate, have inspired an incredible running community in Rochester.  I have, and always will, support their efforts over a sterile corporate entity.  Always.

Money, flare, and other b.s. never will attract me to a race, and to me that is what RnR is about.  I don't need a lot of bands and flying Elvii to make a race enjoyable for me.  And quite frankly, I have no desire to surround myself with runners who need that.  Regardless of pace, if one can't enjoy running for the sake of running, than what are you doing it for?

I consider myself primarily a trail runner, so much of the discussion here today bears little effect on the races I run - hence trail running's appeal to me (as well as my love of a good hard hill!).  However, I do love the occasional road race (10k to HM)  Thankfully there are events locally that really fit the bill for my needs.  And I can't even say that these races are a "bargain for what you get" because what one gets for their dollar would rival bigger races and bigger venues, I guarantee.

After hearing about the Las Vegas goatscrew, as well as the way race staff treated a friend of mine (a back-of-the-pack walker who was meeting all the cutoff times, but was encouraged by the sag vehicle to "get a ride" to the finish.  She decided to drop out than taint the value of a medal by authorized "cheating", in her book) during the Philly RnR half, my decision to not run one is pretty darn solid. 


Sadly, runners may not see beyond the dollar signs and think they'll get what they pay for.  And only experience will demonstrate to them otherwise.

Rochester Half Marathon - when things fall into place.

It's not often when things in life just fall into place without being forced.  Not only that, when multiple things fall into place, I wait until life just implodes.  Cuz that's how life rolls for me.

Over the past few weeks I've had some really good races and runs.  The ones that didn't go according to the plan were FRAGO'd (military slang for "fragmented order", meaning an updated, changed or revised operational order or plan) so I could merely complete them.  I tried to not be such a stickler to a training plan at each run, with the exception of my speedwork and tempo runs (the ones I could accommodate with work).  All the other runs, I didn't kill myself over pace.  This was frustrating because for the longest time, 11:30 min/mi long runs felt glacially slow, and I wondered if that's all I could schlep come race day.  More on that later.

But about a month before the half marathon, my shorter and mid-length runs were producing good results.  My 10K race PR went from a little over an hour to an easy sub-58 minute.  My 5k PR was also reduced by nearly 30 seconds.  I think this was a combination of weight loss (about 17 lbs since January) and adding regular speedwork back into the mix (something that wasn't really emphasized in my Sehgahunda training, since the goal was to just survive)

I also started a new job in July after graduating from nursing school in May.  While I'm only working 4 days a week, I've worked a lot of 7pm-7am shifts which wipe me out for a good two days after a stretch.  I wasn't able to get many quality long runs in, with the exception of a trail half-marathon in August.  I also learned that my body hates me after anything more than 13 miles on roads...my body is more tired after trails but not nearly as beat up.  So, come race day, I had no expectations or limitations.

Beautiful (albeit sideways!) Rochester morning.  Photo courtesy Barb Boutillier

I rode over to the race with my friend Amy (with whom I'm traveling to the Army Ten Miler next month).  I met up with friends Pete (prepping for Chicago Marathon) and Heather (a classmate running her first half marathon), took care of pre-start business, and basked in what was summing up to be a perfect day to race...50s, cool, no wind.  Amy and I chatted about our goals (her dream as a 2:15, but having nursed an injured hip over the past few months, she also just wanted to stay upright and not die at the finish!), we gave each other a hug and with Ellen's "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", we passed under a beautiful American flag suspended between two ladder trucks.

Passing under a flag never gets old!  Photo courtesy Barb Boutiller

photo courtesy Brightroom

The first 3-4 miles or so were pretty uneventful...Amy and I kept about a 10 min/mile pace, Heather was right behind me.  We turned onto Winton Road from East Avenue (where a lone trombone player played "St. Louis Blues"!), and started what would be about 2 miles of uphill and rolling hills.  I looked back at Heather, said "hills for about 2 miles, then you're good!", and without realizing it, I dropped Amy (who jokingly called out "show-off!) and strided up the hill, figuring if I lollygagged these hills too conservatively, my race would be over.  While I've never run this race, I'm more than familiar with the hills on this route...how steep they were, how long they would take, and most importantly...when they would be over.  I saw fellow trail runner Teresa cheering at about mile 4.5, gave her the thumbs up, and just kept chugging.

Photo courtesy Brightroom

Left on Clinton, down towards the canal, into the park and onto the Erie Canal Path...one of my least favorite places to run on any other day, but today it felt good.  Seems like every path intersection I saw Duane, one of my training partners, on his bike.  At every encounter he challenged me to catch up to his wife Nancy, about 60 seconds ahead.  Initially cocky and sure I could catch up to her, at about 8 miles I decided to let it go...still in my sights, but I also needed to run my own race and I'm feeling good at this point.

One spectator was holding a great sign.  I wasn't feeling any pain, but I was definitely enjoying the moment.

photo courtesy Rochester Democrat and Chronicle

Once we hit Genesee Valley Park, the race was in it's final stages.  Lots of crowd support, the "Rocky" theme blaring (which always makes me think of my brother, a one-time professional boxer currently serving with the US Army Special Forces in the Middle East), I see my friend Christine cheering me from a tree (chomping down on pizza, to boot!), Endurance Team member Laura, and I'm starting to feel overwhelmed in a good way!  I have run every step of this race and still felt good.  My knees weren't hating me.  My breathing is still controlled.  And for the first time ever in a race over 7 miles, I'm running a sub 10-minute mile pace!

But despite feeling good, the constant beeping of a nearby runner's watch was irritating the shit out of me.  And of course, she had earphones on and didn't know.  I was getting really, REALLY cranky and stepped up the pace through the park and through U of R campus.

The last 2 miles felt the longest, but the Penfield Cross Country team was manning the last water stop, and were they ever a pick-me-up!  Plenty of high-fives, genuine encouragement, and jokes!  And a lone spectator was another 100 meters ahead, at the turn up Plymouth Avenue, telling us "one last hill on Plymouth, then flat to downhill the rest of the way.  C'mon, you can do it!"

Best water stop!  Photo courtesy MVP Rochester Marathon FB page

The last stretch, with 1.1 miles to go, I turned on whatever rockets I had left.  How many people could I pick off?  I don't know, but I was ready to be done!

Photo courtesy Barb Boutillier

Photo courtesy Brightroom

Gun time:  2:08.59; chip time 2:08:07  74/160 AG

Nancy beat me by about 2 minutes :-)

Photo courtesy Barb Boutillier

Amy, you know, the one who dreamed to run a 2:15, actually scored a PR!  2:14:43.  Pretty swell after injury!

photo courtesy Barb Boutillier

Pete, "Mr. Ridiculously Fast For a Ginger", is more than squared away for the Chicago Marathon...1:37:22

Photo courtesy Brightroom

And my nursing school classmate Laura...I knew she battled some serious childhood illnesses, but I didn't know until after the race that she graduated 5th grade in a wheelchair.  She looked great at the end of her first half marathon, finishing around 2:21!

It's all about the bling!  Photo courtesy Barb Boutillier

Here's to a great Army Ten Miler, and a fall trail running season!

I'll sleep when I'm dead

For some reason, I drew the short straw when it came to working night shifts during orientation (which is 6 months).  Seems like all I work are nights.  In a way I like the night shift because you don't have dozens of consults, residents, attendings, chiefs etc. asking questions, so you can concentrate on your patients.  But I had a very complicated patient (the other was very stable) this week which took a bit out of me when I don't get enough sleep.



With three back-to-back night shifts I knew fitting in my running was going to be tough, but I got it done. One run was right after I got off work, and ironically was one of my best runs to date...

I had no clue where the mojo came from, but only hoped it would stick around for the race on Saturday, which I inadvertently signed up for not realizing that I worked until 7:30AM (and the race started at 9!)

The orientation program at the Burn-Trauma ICU at Strong Memorial Hospital is 6 months long.  In general, we spend about 16 hours a week in class or doing online education, and 24 hours a week in clinical (some weeks, like this week, we only had one education day).  With our group, though, we have yet to start the formalized ICU education program that will teach us the specific points of working in an ICU environment.  I'm anxious to get to start this, as with some of these complicated patients I feel I can only contribute in very shallow terms since we haven't started the ICU program, and frankly a general nursing education (baccalaureate or otherwise) barely skims the material you need to know.  I'm looking forward to a point where I know what the hell people are talking about.

Nights are hard to get used to, and I really only get about 3-4 hours of sleep in between shifts, despite wearing an eye mask, drinking decaf tea (my nightly ritual before bed) and even taking a melatonin.  So, going into Saturday's race with 12 hours of sleep (over 3 days)...well, it was going to be interesting.

Summerfest 12k was my 4th race in 3 weeks.  So, on top of little sleep and night shifts, my only goal was to finish and not do a face-plant until after the finish line.  Of course, I was hoping that my pace would fall into place as easily as my run on Thursday, but it was not to be.  I started out at about a 9:40-9:50 pace, but the heat (an unseasonably hot 84 degrees with high humidity), and the lack of shade got to me at about mile 3.5 or so.  The hills, not so much...I tackled them with reckless abandon until cramps got in the way.  So, I bagged any sort of pace goal and rolled into the finish with about a 10:30 min/mile.  Meh...I'm good with that.

Can't say it wasn't hot!  (photo courtesy Barb Boutillier)

Wait for it. Waaaaaaait for it...

The past week or so of running for me has been spot-frikkin'-on.  Which is scary.

A quick recap:
1)  The "'Dam' Good Trail Race" on the 21st, while wasn't stellar for me in the finishing order, was a breakthrough for me in trail running.  Speed is getting up there, but I remained upright and felt good the entire race.

2)  The "Time to Sperr" 10k, held annually in honor of NY State Trooper Andrew Sperr, was a PR for me.  I felt good until the last mile (which really wasn't that horrible) and cruised in at 57:26



My trail run for "Salomon Sunday", albeit not a really technical one, felt really good, even after a race day.  But then again I was a back-of-the-packer to make sure we didn't lose anyone.



Speed workout yesterday felt just okay, but I got it done.

So....what could go wrong?  In the three years I've been running, something always gets messed up just then things get good.  But my knees are feeling okay, I'm not having any major aches or pains except for sore arches when I wake in the morning (which don't cause me problems during a run).

I have three days of working nights this week (somehow I drew the "screw you" lottery ticket with that)...which is great for orientation, but I'm not getting savvy to the business of day shift with all the rounding, attendees and chiefs barking questions while you're trying to suction out a tracheostomy, etc.

I have two more runs to get in this week before the Summerfest 12k on Saturday...

Oh yeah, that's where it might go wrong.

I "accidentally" scheduled this race, forgetting that I don't get off work until 7:30AM.  Race is at 9AM.  Let's just hope my face-plant happens after the finish line.  Obviously I'm not expecting anything crazy-wonderful with this race, although I am anxious to see just how my body responds on no sleep.

Stay tuned!

"Dam" Good Trail Run 20-ish K (aka "Sehgahunda Lite") 8/21/11

This race was the second I ran in a 5 day period (Wednesday was the Fleet Feet Dirt Cheap race at Webster Park).  I had kind of a score to settle with the Finger Lakes Trail (FLT) after it kicked my ass at Sehghahunda (STM) back in May.  Since then, I stepped up my mileage a bit, added speedwork weekly, and tempo runs every two to three weeks.  Speedwork was kind of non-existent in my STM training program because it wasn't about running fast - just finishing.  But in my training runs and the few races I've done this summer, the speedwork has helped a bit, but so has just running higher miles.  I'm the type of runner than doesn't really respond to "reinventing the wheel".  My race times have always been better with high mileage.  Duh.

This race was also my motivation to keep up with the training during the summer.  This is the first summer since I started running where I haven't had an insanely busy schedule (right now it's just "busy") or I was injured (be in a Baker's cyst in my knee, or anterior & posterior tibialis tendonitis).  Plus, I'm not a fan of the humidity. While my paces haven't been par, they are improving.  So this has not been a speedy summer, but instead it's been one of base building for fall and winter races (which I enjoy more) and staying injury free.

I've only run on the FLT at Letchworth State Park once since STM, but I knew that this race would be easier.  It's on a relatively flat, non technical part of the trail.  And while we have had some rain over the past few weeks, we went for nearly a month with practically none, so the trails weren't nearly in as terrible conditions as they were for STM, and the gullies weren't so deep that your feet got drenched at every crossing.

I had just a few goals for this race:  to not be dead fuggin' last, to maintain a steady pace, and to not feel like death at the end.  SPOILER ALERT:  all three accomplished.

James Roche, Holly Kuzmiak-Ngiam, Jim McLaughlin, me, Beth DeCiantis

I woke up tired, as I've worked 12 hour shifts in the days leading up to the race.  I drove down with my friend Beth, who is one of the best runners out there (former Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier, and current USATF Niagara Region 5k Master's Champ.  It was lightening and pouring rain during the hour-long drive to Letchworth, and I was nervous about how bad the trail was.  But it let up by the time we got there, although it was soupy-humid.  There were three other Endurance Team members running, as well as countless Fleet Feet Racing Team folks.  Frankly, we all love this trail and the challenges it brings.

I settled in the back of the pack, and just stayed there, for the most part.  I did get stung by something at about mile 3 or 4 that required EpiPen interventions...not the smartest decision in my life, but I have nver been a DNF and didn't want to make this my first.  I have myself the injection, walked for quite a bit until the jitters wore off, and kept going, keeping my pace around 13-14 min/mile.  I walked one long hill, and stayed diligent on my hydration and nutrition.

Since STM (which was a fueling FAIL since my stomach was doing backflips and I couldn't choke down any of my nutrition with which I trained), I've been experimenting with Hammer nutrition:  with HEED, Perpetuem and their gels.  For this race I normally would use HEED, but with the humidity (and figuring this was going to take me around 3 hours) I carried Perpetuem in one water bottle, and water in the other and took sips of each every 15 minutes.  Had a couple gels with me, but never used them - the three aid stations had animal crackers and Skittles (among other treats), which were just awesome.  The strategy worked - the Perpetuem was not overkill for this particular race, and I really didn't feel too tired until after around mile 10 (which I expected).

Coincidentally about this point is were a rotting tree branch broke off and hit me smack in the head.  Clearly karma was testing me or pissed off.  But I had to keep going. My body was starting to get sore:  my feet hurt and my ankle was feeling a little tender from prancing over some of the rooty-er sections of the trail.  I was starting to feel a little thankful that I didn't have far to go, and I was glad that the last couple miles of the race were pretty flat.

My finish time was 3:12:05, with a 22-second handicap offered to runners carrying their own water bottle my "official" time was 3:11:43.  Far from stellar (3rd to last), but I felt really good afterwards.  Maybe next year I can go a little harder.  The finisher awards were kinda cute, too (and I was not expecting one)

Tired runner bonk, and little dog lost

This blog is really going to be a hodge-podge of stuff...

Last weekend I travelled to Ohio to see my cousin Chelsea receive her nurses pin from Clark State.  This has been a tough journey for Chelsea, I'd imagine.  She and I are not particularly close (a result of age difference and living in different states, not a personality difference), but nursing school's journey gave us a new appreciation for our efforts.  While I don't know any details (nor do I need to), Chelsea found herself to be a young, newly-divorced mother of a 2 year old not that long ago.  I don't think things are all that great between her and RJ's dad, but regardless she stayed the course with school and got it done.  She's lucky to have a big family to help out, too.  I couldn't be more proud of her.

Giant Eagle Market District:  Upper Arlington, Ohio

I had a great visit with my mom and step-father...most of it being spent in Giant Eagle eating whatever I could.  And drinking whatever I could.  Just when I thought Wegman's was the shiznit, Giant Eagle Market District in Upper Arlington, Ohio takes the freakin' cake.  Home-made gelato, a wine sampling station (and extensive wine shop...which already means Ohio trumps NY when it comes to retail laws of wine and liquor any given day), a bakery featuring Guinness-Pretzel brownies, and CREPES!  This place was absolutely insane!  We went on Thursday evening just to parooze, then back the following morning for crepes.  Back the next day for gelato (everything from salted carmel to pink grapefruit) with my cousins and uncle.  All I can say is that this place needs to be seen to be believed!

Photo courtesy - Columbus Running Company

On my final day in C-bus, I ran the Columbus 10k - the oldest race in Columbus.  Granted, I was 2 weeks out from my marathon, and while I feel good overall, I knew this wasn't going to be a phenomenal race as I have done virtually no speedwork training since 2010.  Speedwork was put on the back burner in my Sehgahunda training as it really wasn't going to help me - I needed to work on hills and time on my feet.  Well, when it came to the Columbus 10k, it showed.  I started out okay at a 10 m/m, but it was awfully hot for 9am (70 degrees) with ugly humidity and virtually no breeze.  I faded at about mile 3 and finished with an 11:10 m/m average.  And I was okay with it.  This was simply a "for the t-shirt" race because I was in town.  On the flip side, Pete (my godson's dad) was also in town for a wedding (his brother and sister-in-law live in C-bus) and not only ran this race, but PR'd at around 45 minutes (which doesn't surprise me...he's way fast, and Columbus is way flat).

The ride home was  uneventful...I miss and love Columbus dearly but it was nice to be back in my own house.  I was barely able to decompress, despite all intents, as the next afternoon our new rescue dog, a chihuahua named Fez whom we adopted 2 weeks ago, ran away Monday as I was preparing for a bike ride in the garage.  He was with me for the additional purpose of fixing his color so his rabies vaccine tag would stay on.  At this point, since we had  not received his license yet, this rabies tag was his only identification...that was not on his collar when he decided to take off.

My whole world seemed to collapse.  We searched from 5 PM (when he took off) until dusk.  We called 311 (the city's general information line, since the Animal Control offices were closed).  I cried big body-shaking sobs all night...feeling like I failed Fez as a mother.  It was chilly for a skinny chihuahua, he was small enough to be owl food, and it began to rain.  I honestly thought I'd never see him again.  My friends all texted or called me, asking if they could help search, or just come over to console me.  I posted Fez's picture on Facebook, and within twenty minutes, it was reposted everywhere...even the Fleet Feet Rochester FB group page.  I was so touched by everyone's concern, that (of course), I cried.

I woke up, and waited for the Verona Street Animal Shelter to open at 11.  In the meantime, my friend Michelle printed up 150 "Lost Dog" posters".  I stopped at her place about noon to pick them up, then went to the animal shelter to see if he had been picked up or turned in.  The lady took me through all the cages - two rooms worth - with no Fez...lots of dogs I would love to adopt, but no Fez.  She then took me to the last two rooms, rooms for animals needing surgery (which would be plausible since Fez had not been fixed yet).

The first room was all cats, and I started to lose hope, knowing there was one more room to see.

Then she took me into the next room...on the bottom row in the middle (cage 6, as I remember), there Fez was, shaking, but came right up to the cage when he saw.  I shook too, sobbing uncontrollably, and I'm sure the lady thought I was insane (she assured me she didn't though).  He was picked up that morning by Animal Control while walking not even a mile from my house.  I understood that Animal Control doesn't - and can't - pick up every single dog they pass by, but I'm thinking that by calling 311 the day before, they realized that he truly was a lost dog that would be reclaimed.

Long story short, Fez was sprung out of jail early, for $70.50, after my vet called and assured the shelter that Fez had a standing appointment in two days to be neutered and have a teeth cleaning (otherwise, Fez was not able to come home with me without being neutered, and I didn't want him to undergo a second surgery under general anesthesia for the teeth cleaning).

So, yes, Fez is on Parole versus still in jail, thanks to Dr. Randall.  His conditions of parole include:  gender reassignment no later than June 16, that he be under my supervision at all times, and that his paperwork proving that he had the surgery be faxed to Verona Street Animal Shelter.  When I brought Fez home, he slept for all but just a few hours, whether on my chest as I was stretched out on the sofa, or in his dog bed.  I suppose roaming the streets alone at night is tough for the little fella...

What a rough 36 hours I've had.  Thankfully I have a fun race this afternoon, as I have not run since my race on Sunday.

Happy trails...