Pictured Rocks Backpack, day 2.

Friday 5/25:

Tyler and I had a quick breakfast and hit the trail.  I confessed to him that the 16 miles we were to cover today would be a new backpack record for me (previous 13 mi).  This seemed to worry him a bit more than I expected.  I wanted him to know that we were both venturing to new territory together, but I think he took it as “Oh my!  She’s never even gone this far and I’M going to try to…”  My friends seem to think I’m the Energizer Bunny, but really, I get tired just like they do, I may just be better at telling that fatigue to shut up.

We took in a series of beautiful views over sandstone cliffs.  That never got old.  Softer rock within these majestic formations had washed away over the years, leaving only the sturdiest rock behind.  Someday they will cease to exist altogether.  That is pretty cool and sad to think about.

What did get old, however, were the miles of pine forest we trudged through.  By mile 5, I seemed to be headed for a bonk, not because I was depleted physically, but mentally, I admit it was a bore compared to my other trips, ones always in the mountains.  I joked that I was “sleepwalking on the trail”.  Putting my body into auto-pilot, I completely zoned out.  It is a pretty comfortable place to be seeing as I could ignore the fact my feet hurt.

It was neat to see the next towering cliff from a distance.  Then when we hiked up to the top of it, we sort of knew what the formations beneath our feet were like.  I never knew if the slab of rock I was perched on was hollow.  It was exhilarating and terrifying to think about as I stood there, 100 ft. above the glittery blue waters of Lake Superior.

In the time it took us to go 12 miles yesterday, we completed the 16 miles today.  They seemed to pass much slower though.  Apparently, the key to me not mentally bonking and being a total crankypants is a lot of food.  Yay Lara Bars!

Pictured Rocks, 1.

After a terrible night’s sleep, I awoke to remember that I forgot to our trail permit in my car, parked an hour’s drive from here.  Using my best persuasive skills, the park ranger issued me another campsite permit.  As a victory celebration, Tyler and I hit the Holiday gas station for provisions, because if you have ever been to Munising before, you’ll know that’s about the best 8am option you can possibly come by.

He grabbed a Coke, me a coffee.  Of course, it tasted like gas station coffee but by the time I loaded it with flavored creamer and syrup, it was pretty great!  Caffeine, work your magic!

 Ladyslipper

The trail meandered through mixed hardwood forests with lush fields of triliums dancing beneath them.  A gusty breeze swayed their tops.  Sunlight streamed down through the gaps in the trees, a cascade of glittery light falling on the flowers below.  Suddenly, the forest I had seen all my life was changed—adapting to my adult perspective on life.  It was still a playground for adventure, but no more tree climbing and forts.  But it is funny how just as I am convinced that I’m not the same child anymore, I realize that not much has changed after all.  I’m often my seven year old self:  I still run and play and love to explore outside, still my biggest and most treasured plaything.  I occasionally eat enough ice cream to make my tummy hurt.  Even my hair is beginning to blonde itself like it used to back then (no, no, no, don’t tell me it is a sign I’m going gray!  Can’t be true!)

 Munising Bay and part of Grand Island

Our first encounter with the sandstone cliffs that are the Pictured Rocks was at mile 4.  We snuck quick and cautious peeks over the edge of the 100 ft. cliff.  I remembered getting a message from Tyler’s sister the day before:  “Don’t push him over any cliffs no matter how annoying he gets!!” she instructed. 

Occasionally cliff views appeared until we descended through a pine forest.  The soil grew sandy and all the ground plants changed.  It was like entering an entirely different forest.  Then the sandy beach appeared.  The water sparkled blue with hints of orange sandstone just below the surface.  Down the trail a little, we stopped for a white sand beach.  The sand was much finer than the Pacific Ocean beaches, it seemed almost powdery on the Lake Superior shoreline rather than grainy sand.

As we passed into double digit mileage, Morning Chatter Tyler disappeared.  We walked along quietly, occasionally stopping for snacks and photos.  The marathon had leveled our energy levels so I was pretty wrecked right alongside him.

I repeated what my dad had said about no food on the trail and we joked about how were bummed there wasn’t a trail-side McDonald’s.  He said he’d settle for a vending machine with cold drinks.  I asked for our camp, Mosquito Camp, to be 1. Free of mosquitoes; 2. Serve cold beers; and 3. Someone willing to rub my feet.  No such luck on all fronts, although a bear locker enabled us to leave the bulky bear can at home.  I guess I’ll take what I can get.

Before taking an evening walk to explore and get water, we stopped at the bear locker to grab a snack.  Two 20-something girls were staring at us nearby.  They both looked vaguely familiar.  Then one of the girls wrinkled her face into a question mark and said, “Karen?”.  OH. MY. GOODNESS.  Things snapped into focus in my memory. “Cora?!” I replied.  Four hundred miles from her home and over a thousand from mine and here we were in a six tent site campground on a remote corner of roadlessness.  I came across someone I knew!  They were a couple of Matt’s closest childhood friends and the women that sang at our wedding five years ago.  How crazy.

I fell asleep early and hard from the exhaustion.  Those are the best kind of sleeps.

Big F Trailing

Someone just took a shower in the bathroom, just passing by the closed door felt like a tropical rainforest.  I was surprised that it felt the very same way when I stepped outside, all ready for my morning run.  Muggy running, round 1.  Yuck.  I did have the forethought to carry some water even though I didn’t plan on going very far.

My parents live two doors down from a small private trail through the woods that connects to over thirty miles of forested trail.  Every time I return to this trail, I regret not being a runner in my teens.  If I lived here now, I’d take complete advantage of everything this beautiful place has to offer. 

By the time I reached the Big F Lake, I had already gone through half of my bottle of water.  I was thankful for the shade.  Now that I’ve made the decision to train for SOB 50K, I’m considering all this heat a good thing.  I’m also going to run myself across each and every one of those 30 miles of trail that my parents have direct access to.  That kinda rocks.  The SOB is in southern Oregon in July, and it is likely to be this warm there too.  Having a little bit of training in the heat will be helpful for later. 

As I ran solo along the trail, I watched streams of sunshine filter through the trees as they waved in the wind.  The fingers of sunlight tickled the forest floor and trail as I moved along.  I passed several people on the trail and by two miles in, where I had originally planned to turn around and return the way I came, I decided to continue.  Until that moment, I hadn’t felt completely committed to the idea of not tapering for a road marathon.  But with those few steps after I decided to complete the route around the Big F lake and adding 3.5 mi to my route, it felt like I was sealing the deal.  I am rebuilding for the Siskyou Out and Back 50K.  That felt good.

I passed a few more people en route, including a high school classmate of mine.  He had a four year old girl with him.  Ten years after graduation, I still think it a little odd how old some of my classmates’ kids are.  I passed a group of walkers twice on my route around the lake.  They were surprised to see me twice and shouted out, “Wow!  Good for you!!”  I was thinking of this as an easy day and I am so used to that that I don’t even realize that a full loop is a huge undertaking for others.  Even comparing how I used to view the terrain in this park has changed from my former self.  I used to consider this loop very hilly, because it wasn’t completely flat.  Today I laughed a little at myself because now I think these hills are so small that I don’t even notice them.

 I used to run without a shirt all the time in Oklahoma.  I've only done it one other time since moving away from there.

When I returned home, completely out of water and covered in broken leaves, I sat on the lawn to remove my shoes.  Then I began searching for wood ticks.  You know it is summertime in the north when you have to search for wood and deer ticks.  These creatures can transmit lyme disease and are really dangerous.  Wearing my gaiters helped keep them from getting to my socks, but the laces of my shoes and gaiters contained twelve ticks.  One of them was a deer tick, which sources say transmit the disease about 50% of the time (wood ticks are less frequently).  I found it interesting that I had collected a higher number of ticks than the number of miles I ran.  The total was 7.5 miles.

 Makes your skin crawl just looking at the photo, doesn't it?

How does it feel to return to your hometown after a long period away? Do you feel like the same person you used to be or does it highlight how much you have changed?

....I'll talk about my backpacking trip more in the next post. I have so many photos to share!!.....

Pictured Rocks and Realization

The drive to Munising was largely uneventful.  I counted wildlife sightings to pass the time.  Live animals included: red fox, whitetail deer, wild turkey, and skunk.  I saw several dead porcupines.  Unfortunately the road kill outnumbered the former.

 Sand Point Lighthouse, Escanaba

I picked up the camping permit and continued on to the meeting spot, driving H-58 to Grand Marais.  Armed with the regional snacks of my childhood (Dill Pickle chips, I loooove you!), I leisurely made my way there.  I stopped at a deserted campground for the facilities.  A car pulled up while I was inside.  After just two minutes there, I emerged to see two naked teens “wrestling” on the back seat.  They parked right next to me so it was hard to not notice what was going on.  I was only there for a few minutes and found myself wondering, “how did they get undressed so fast?”.  It didn’t bother me what they were doing.  So weird.  They didn’t notice me get in my car and drive away.

I stopped a few other places to get a preview of the trail.  I think it’ll be easy enough that I’ll want to run it instead.  If only my hiking buddy were a runner.  I think the trail as it is might stretch his abilities, he’s kinda just jumping into it without any experience/training at all.  He’s not a regular exerciser either.  I admire people that do things like that: jump into a multi-day activity on guts alone.

Speaking of my buddy, Tyler and I are basically acquaintances, although there are at least five ways we know each other.  The U.P. is a tiny place.  Basically, he’s the friend of my college roommate, Amber; I often rode back home from college with his sister, Danielle; he is good friends with several of the people I know from the U.P. music community; he and I took the same major and had a lot of the same classmates and professors, etc. etc.  Hubby didn’t like the idea of being replaced, by anyone, male or female, and he found it odd that I would go on a trip without him because his desire for backpack trips is usually met by my stubborn resistance, “can’t we just go trail running instead?”.

Lake Superior beach.

With Matt’s and Tyler’s fiancee’s blessing, I had a pack buddy.  Don’t worry Matt, I just realized how heavy my pack is without you carrying all the dense things, I’ll really need you back soon!!

Nearing our rendez-vous point, I smelled a faint and familiar scent.  First like leaves, then burned popcorn, and then I finally placed it as my brain registered the scent: wildfire.  There’s a fire burning about 60 miles southwest of here in the Seney National Wildlife Refuge and the brisk southwest wind carried the cloud of smoke over the Grand Sable Lake.  Just one hour of exposure and I had that same intense headache I used to get when the Fairbanks summers were too dry and we were suddenly surrounded by wildfires and smoke clouds.  Please let the wind shift.

I really enjoyed having the time to myself to sort out my training ideas.  As much as I’d love a do-over race, to really test myself, I think I am going to pass on it.  Nothing really works well logistically and it would come down to an entirely supplemental vacation, something to the tune of $800, and I have better ways to spend that than another road marathon.  But the biggest thing that got me was I’d have to abandon all my original plans for the remaining time here.  I don’t spend much time each year in the U.P. and I really would love to run myself ragged in exploration than hang out in the house tapering.  I want to explore and worry about dealing with the fatigue when I get back home.  So that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. 

Adventure #1 begins tomorrow as I backpack the 44 mile Pictured Rocks portion of the North Country trail.  This will be my longest backpack trip ever and broken up into segments of 12,16,16 daily miles.  And those two sixteen mile days will be a new backpacking distance PR (but a lot flatter terrain that I have ever done, so it should be okay).

I’m hoping that the fatigue from the Green Bay Marathon will start me worn out enough that I don’t completely kill my hiking buddy.

Disappointment

First, thank you all for the wonderful comments!  They made me feel really good about the decisions I made on race day.

That said....

It has officially been one week since the Green Bay Marathon.  In the first few days following the race, I was happy with the accomplishment I made.  The weather was out of my control and I made the best with what was given to me.  Finishing just over four hours, a time like that was my PR just a few years ago,  I should feel like a complete rock star for that being the time I can get on a really bad day.  Yet I don’t.

I feel more like I wasted five months of preparation.  I was never given the chance to see what I can really do.  And that upsets me more than I realized.  So Tuesday afternoon, I began shopping for a re-do marathon.  After several dead-end options, I’ve come to realize that I might just have to let this one go, because the only real option at this point is going home and running the local marathon’s course solo and seeing how I do.  Without the race-day excitement and music, I am pretty sure it won’t be 100%.  I’ll just have to take comfort in knowing that I won’t lose speed during this off-period because I AM stronger and will likely have faster trail times.  As long as I keep gaining fitness, the speed will come back when I begin focused road training again.  It is mostly a bummer because I didn’t have anything go wrong, for the first time ever in training for a marathon. 

So what I am going to do is to keep doing some faster things during training for the SOB 50K (July).  Then when it comes to training for a fall marathon, I’m going to continue on training for a faster yet race, as if I had made a new PR in Green Bay.  This faster goal time will likely be 3:30. 

I guess I’m just bummed.

Serious Questions

What else matters, right?

Water, grains (hops is wheat, no?), and happy times.

Yup, got all I need right there. Then I realized, maybe he was asking for real ideas for himself……

For those interested in the truth, here’s what I told him I am really taking, and it doesn’t include beer (only because those bottles are heavy and I’m not packing out empties): 

I’m bringing cereal and powdered milk for breakfast; tortillas, one of those Laughing Cow cheese wheels and some tuna packets for lunches; then some assorted candy bars (some that don’t melt easily), trail mixes, dried fruits, and some salted almonds. Make sure you bring a meal or two more than you think you’ll need in case you’re extra hungry one day or we get lost/hurt/etc. 

Question from Dad this morning:

Did you know there won’t be any grocery stores along the way?
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Ummmm….I’m speechless. I’m only hoping he means the 150 mile drive TO the trail and not along the trail itself.



What foods do you like to take with you on hiking or backpacking trips?

Cellcom Green Bay Marathon Unofficial Race Report

Standing in the starting corral, I felt beads of sweat run down my back.  After the factory horn sounded at the start, the song Going to Boston played.  I got a little choked up and blinked back tears.  Deep within, I already knew that today wouldn’t be my BQ day.  It was 70F at the start and only planned to grow hotter throughout the day.

A quick pre-race good luck photo with my high school classmate, Natalie. She ran her first half.

I knew that if I took it easy from the very beginning I would wonder if I was able to beat the heat, so I ran the first three miles at the BQ MRP. I’m glad I’d run other marathons prior to this one because I knew what the first three miles were to feel like, and it sure wasn’t this.  I met my mom at mile 4.

The night before, we soaked sponges and froze them.  She handed me one.  It was so awesome, and melted slowly enough that I got to squeeze icy water over my head for several miles before it turned warm.  I got some strange looks with a sponge tucked into my sport bra strap, but I was keeping myself cool and that’s all that mattered.

Matt mentioned in the days before the race that I could just run MRP for a few miles and then decide to go to the half (one suggestion the race director made in an email, that for the first time in race history, wouldn’t result in a DQ) and get a new half PR.  I spent miles 4-11 convinced that I was going to be smart and only run the half, even if it wasn’t a PR, I was feeling that awful.

After my first few experiment miles, I began searching for a more sustainable effort level and pace.  It was about an 8:30-8:45/mi, then it slowed progressively as the temperature grew warmer.  I enjoyed the sprinklers that locals along the course had set out for us.  Some kids also offered to spray us down with water guns.  It really was a lot of fun running like a child through them all.

I hit every aid station along the way and by the shady spot at mile 11 where I met my family and second sponge, I hesitated to break the news.  “You’re right on target with the time ranges you’ve given me”, my mom said encouragingly as she dumped the remaining bag of water onto my head.  In that second, I changed my mind.  “I think I’m looking at about a four hour finish right now, just a head’s up for when you catch me later,” I replied before dashing off.  It was really nice to have a support system out there. Each time I passed medical tents, they had a few people in them.  I passed one man that was just beginning to get IV fluids, that was a little scary. 

Sponge matches my shirt! Woohoo!

By mile 14, I was headed south through a business district.  The brisk wind felt nice, but it quickly dried my clothes and there were no more yard sprinklers.  I was also so wet that the heel lift in my shoe had shifted to the ball of my foot.  I stopped and sat in the grass to remove it and pretty much regretted my decision to do the full 26 miles.

Just a few minutes later, a voice called out from just over my shoulder, “How ya doing today?”  Megan, the girl in green sparkles, must have seen me sit down and thought I was in trouble.  Nope, just my water-logged shoes floating around my heel lift.  She was one of the few people that consistently ran along without stopping to walk at all.  Her pace was nice, so I asked if I could stick with her for awhile.  I was on the verge of walk-running to the finish myself.  She mentioned she’d love the company.  So we ran along, both following the same type of survival mode idea.  Goal: finish the day at Lambeau Field, not the hospital.  That and when they handed us cups of water, one went inside the body, one was drizzled over the top.  Also with the ice cubes, one went in the bra, one went down the shorts.  With ice cubes clinking in our bras as we ran along, we stayed cool enough to be safe and kept moving at a pretty consistent 9:00-9:30/mi.  This seemed to work well until one ice cube lodged itself between my butt cheeks and was starting to get painfully cold.  I pretended to adjust my soaked shorts and let a few ice cubes fall to the ground as I ran along.  I hope nobody noticed, hehe.  I perked up a lot when I had a buddy.  (Anyone want to run a marathon with me next time?)

When we reached mile 18’s aid station, a voice rang through the air over the large speakers:  “The race has been cancelled.  Everyone must stop.  Cool off and start re-hydrating immediately, shuttle buses will arrive in a few minutes.”

Both Megan and I couldn’t believe what was being said.  We both had adjusted our paces so we could finish this and now we were told to stop?  What we were told is that all the ambulances and ER rooms were full of collapsed runners and they could handle no more safely.  I saw just one or two people at the med stations before but I didn’t realize it had become this bad.

Megan broke into tears.  Both anger and frustration were painted across her face.  I admit I was on the verge of crying myself.  Then I looked up ahead on the course.  Some people kept going.  “If you want to keep going, I’m game for that.  Until the aid stations are pulled, I’m okay to keep going,” I said.  Her eyes widened and she stopped crying, “Really?!”

We ranted a little bit about the day and continued on.  For several aid stations and road crossings, officials and police asked if we had heard the news and were now running at our own risk.  We said we knew and were running safely.  I remember laughing at the giant inflatable wall they put at mile 20, thinking about how I probably had hit a wall before we even crossed the starting line this morning.  We were told later that all the volunteers that chose to stay did so under their own defiance, and for that I am completely grateful.  I would not have made it much farther without their assistance.  I later learned that those aid stations eventually disappeared for anyone that was on a 4:30 pace or slower.

Our pace slowed even more as the temperatures rose into the low 80s, but I really didn’t care.  I actually felt my best during miles 18-24, go figure.  I felt like I finally got the hang of the hydration necessary to keep going.  Running in temperatures that are 30-40 degrees higher than all except two of my runs includes a pretty steep learning curve in proper hydration and pacing. My legs weren’t feeling trashed at all and I also remembered what I usually feel like this far into the race.  It almost felt easy!  We also returned to a shady area with many garden sprinklers and pranced through them right alongside the children in bathing suits.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when we made the final turn that revealed the finish area.  Would everything be gone?  Would I get a medal?  I’d be pretty pissed if I didn’t get a medal after all this.  It appeared everything was going on as usual except the band was gone and the timing clock turned off.  I took one last drenching water stop and headed for it.  The remaining distance to the finish line was lined with waiting ambulances.  In the last .25 mi,. Megan looked over at me, “sprint it?” she asked.  She had read my mind.  We ran the last  bit in a full sprint, complete with wild long strides.  Used to seeing worn out runners shuffle across the line, the remaining spectators broke out into a roar of cheers and applause just for the two of us.  I felt awesome!!!  We collected our medals, shared my Garmin finish time (she doesn’t run with a watch), and parted after a hug. 

I was so grateful for the running buddy that God had given me for the day.  The previous night, I went to mass with my mom.  I usually pray for a PR, but yesterday I prayed for the strength and courage to keep me safe and finishing healthy in the heat.  I believe this came in the form of my green glitter buddy Megan.

Marathon #7 wasn’t lucky in the sense I had hoped for, but I have never fought as smart as I did for this particular one.

The timing company was another set of the renegade volunteers that stayed until the end, so my entire support system was able to tell me my chip time, even though the race may never acknowledge it.  And that finisher’s medal was waiting for me there.

4:05.10.  9:20/mi pace.  It was 86F at the time I finished, several degrees higher than the highest temperature ever recorded in my town.

A Tale of Three Runs

Wednesday:  I shifted anxiously in my seat.  Due to weather delays, I would have 20 minutes (at best) to catch my flight to Chicago.  If I missed it, I'd have to take the red-eye and arrive to Green Bay on Thursday morning, something I had paid extra so I didn't have to do that, when I bought my ticket.  As the plane landed and taxied for several minutes, I prayed.  I don't usually pray like that, but that was the only thing I could think of doing.

Just four rows from the exit, I tried to be patient as an old man (with a cane) and his wife gathered their things to deplane.  I watched the time tick by on my watch...1:34, 1:35, 1:36....When I finally reached the door, I breathed a gulp of fresh San Francisco air and took off running....1:40.  A wheeled suitcase trailing behind me, I ran up a ramp from the tiny propeller plane.  I ran through the open door to the terminal.  By the time I reached the board announcing where my next gate was, it was 1:50...and my throat felt on fire.  I ran through a crowd of people boarding a plane to Boise, ID.  "Since when do this many people want to go to Idaho?" I thought to myself.  I continued sprinting to the end of the terminal building and arrived at the gate.  I was gasping for breath and visibly shaking, I couldn't believe I had made it!

 So if I pulled a 20 lb. suitcase behind me while sprinting through the airport, does that count as cardio or strength training?

Thursday:   I set off on the streets of southwest Green Bay.  Having arrived less than twelve hours prior, I wasn't sure how the run would go.  It was barely 50F and the sun was out.  It felt great.  The dry air (compared to home) parched my throat gasping for the moist ocean air that it couldn't find.  I ran along a quiet sidewalk in a residential neighborhood.  The homes were beautiful, complete with lush lawns and manicured shrubs.  I'd forgotten how nice towns in the Midwest and Green Bay in particular appear.  As I have mentioned before, I do horrible when flying.  My legs swell up badly and it hurts to walk on them for a few days after landing.  This time, since it was just days before the race, I decided to cut all salt out from that day and drink lots of extra water.  It seemed to help, I had no puffiness at all.  Maybe just a fluke, but it was nice all the same.

Friday:  I completed my final run before the Green Bay Marathon, and let me tell you, it was torture.  In order to acclimate myself a little bit, I intentionally ran during the warmest part of the day.  It was 86F with a 20 mph south wind.  I decided I needed a little bit of speed, so I ran 1/4 mi of each mile at my 800s pace.  It was just enough distance to get some turnover back into them without exhausting fatigue.

 Source: weather.gov

The torture came in the heat.  With the wind, I sweat profusely, a mix of salt and sunscreen washing into my eyes.  My throat was dry.  The headwind wasn't relief at all, but more like blasting myself with a blow dryer as I ran along.  The only relief I found was the shade of the last half mile home.  The miles were there, but it felt horrible.  After taking a cold shower, I went for an evening walk with my mom.  It was still over 80F, but I almost felt like I needed a jacket.  Perfect.  All I wanted from this run was a little speed and some acclimation.  I got both.  Awesome.

One Day until the Marathon!

Marathon Goals

Depending on the day, I’ll be confident of reaching my goal times, others, I feel like adjusting them slower is the way to go.  After poring over data and consulting with my coach (Hubby!), I’ve come up with my goals.  

I used to be someone that made soft goals that I knew I could achieve just so I never had to fall short.  But last fall’s Two Cities Marathon taught me that if I don’t go for something tough, I’ll never really know what I am capable of accomplishing.  And even if I end up a little slower than my #1 goal, it still lands me in a really happy place.  A year ago, if you would have told me what my current marathon PR would be, I would have laughed at you.  I hope to have a finish time in the mid-3:30s.  Whether it will rest just above or below the Boston Qualifying time of 3:35, I am not sure.

Here are my goals:

3. 3:45.15.  With just one second to spare, it will get me a PR.

2. 3:39. 

1. 3:34.59.  BQ.  This is still probably a perfect day scenario, but definitely possible if all things go perfectly.

So I plan on going out at that Boston Qualifying pace of 8:12/mi, the same one I have been running in all of my MRP runs.  I fear that success will hinge on how I do with jet lag and the weather.  I can usually tell what the day will be like within the first two or three miles.  If fast isn’t in the cards for me, I can still adjust after 5-10 mi. and not completely wreck myself (and my finish time) for the last 10K.  

I’m not one to agonize over the forecast and I’ve actually had to hide the marathon’s Facebook page from my wall because they are freaking out over the 10-day forecast (which Hubby tells me is wildly inaccurate that far out, especially since that forecast comes from the Weather Channel).  That said, it is predicted to be about 60F at the start, and rise to 78F by 2-3pm.  So basically, it could be in the 60-70F range for most of my race.  I’d prefer it to be cooler, but I think with the lower humidity of Wisconsin (40-60% compared to 90%+ it is here), I’ll be okay with it even though it is a bit warmer than I’m used to here on the coast.

Five days until Green Bay!

Three Things Monday (not Thursday)

1.       Matt and I celebrated his 31^st birthday this weekend.  Despite working midnight shifts, we managed to squeeze in a yummy birthday party and presents into the itinerary.  It seriously doesn’t take much to make this man happy.

More crazy food prep.  In the last two weeks, I’ve made two cakes, fajitas, many breakfast sandwiches, a ham dinner, veggie burgers and five loaves of bread.  Today’s agenda: one more cake and a batch of lasagna.  Hubby will not starve while I’m away, that’s for certain.

2.       On the one afternoon nap I took last week, my neck moved out of alignment.  As a result, I’ve spent most of the weekend with a killer headache.  Chiro today, massage tomorrow.  An aside, I think that worrisome spot on my shin (a strain, I think) is healing!

3.        I noticed this morning that I have reached a blog milestone: 10,000 page views!  Thank you all for taking interest in my adventures!  I’m truly blessed to be able to share them with you.

Last Long Run Before Green Bay!!

Do you know how often the sunshine greets me in the morning when I get up?  Practically never.  The last two days have been absolutely gorgeous.  Usually sunny days are accompanied by 30-40mph north winds, but not these.  Perfectly calm days.  I forgot what it felt like to run in perfect weather.  It feels really nice.

I set out on my final long run before Green Bay this morning at about 8am.  Typically a lunchtime runner, I was up early enough to catch my 80 year old neighbor out for his morning walk.  "Getting an early run in today, hey?" he asked.  Even he noticed that this was not normal for me.  I laughed a little as I ran off.

Birds sang their morning song.  People walked dogs in pajama pants, while they clutched either a coffee cup or a joint in their hand as they strolled along leisurely.  I have never lived in a place quite like this, and it is fun to notice the subtle quirks of the local culture. 

My old iPod shuffle came along for the trip and I listened to a cluster of songs that I hadn't heard in quite awhile.  It was refreshing to hear different musicians.  I'm one of those people that has such a rich interest in music that I can appreciate just about everything in the right dose.  This run, I was really into Les Nubians, a weird French hip-hop/jazzy fusion group.  I also listened to the Rent soundtrack, bits of Les Cowboys Fringants, Black Eyed Peas, George Winston, and Dixie Chicks.  How's that for enjoying everything?

I just let my body set the pace and I ignored the watch entirely.  I got my halfway splits, and man, they were consistent.  That's how I can tell I went easy enough: when my splits are really really close.  If it gets too fast or too slow and they are hugely variable.

First 4 miles: 34:34, 8:38/mi
Second 4 miles: 34:42, 8:40/mi.
Total 8 miles: 1:09.18, 8:39/mi.

Eight days until the Green Bay Marathon!

Do you listen to music when you're running?
I don't often on the road, so it is always a special treat.  I never trail run with it.  To me, the whole point of trail running is to connect with the natural world, not block it out.  I usually run the last 10 or so miles of a marathon with it, though.  Small marathons are pretty lonely when the half marathoners split from our course.

Perfect Day!

It was one of those days that seemed perfect in every way.  The sun was shining, the wind was just strong enough to dry my sweat; and for the first time in 2012, I was wearing my tank top on the Coastal Trail.  Matt ran the first couple of miles with me, but on his still-stiff marathon legs, he was hurting a bit.  He stopped to stretch and I kept going.  

Getting dressed before the run, I couldn’t decide which run I wanted to do: my 5mi MRP run or my 8 mi long run.  I set off at the MRP pace and decided I could slow it and go long if I decided later.

After just half a mile, I knew what I wanted: MRP.  The sun was perfect.  The wind?  Perfect.  I found myself holding back to hit the right pace.   

 Mi 2 and 4 are a messy dirt trail, so the effort was about even, I'd say.

Admittedly, I ran it a little on the quick side because I wanted to save some for the last hill to my house: 150 feet in the last ½ mi. This hill has defeated me every single time I run on it, simply because of where it is placed.  Always reduced to a walk, I avoid this route for my MRP runs in favor of one that is hillier overall but isn’t uphill at the end.  

The final mile of this perfect run was great.  For the first time, I beat the hill.  And that final mile was just a few seconds off the target.  

 My town is pretty from the satellite view, isn't it?

As Matt and I sat on the porch sipping water as we stretched, he said, “I don’t think you’ve ever been as prepared for a marathon as you are for this one.  I think that you’re going to nail whatever goal you set out.”  Hopefully he’s right.

Marathon #7 in nine days!  Will lucky #7 bring me a BQ?  I can’t wait to find out!

Taper Week #2:

The good:

1. My RHR (resting heart rate) has returned to the low 40s.

2. I sleep well without waking at all because of sore or stiff legs.

3. Massages are awesome again instead of enough to send me jumping off the table.

4. My libido has returned. Perhaps Matt’s favorite side effect of the taper.

5. My last track workout was all over the place. Since I’m more rested, the same effort produces 800 repeats in the 3:15-3:20ish range. I finally hit the 3:30 (prescribed at 3:34) pace with Danny pacing me and it almost felt conversational for the first lap. Crazy hey? Repeats looked like this: 3:16, 3:22, 3:31, 3:31, 3:28. I still suck at pacing within each lap, but at least I only suffer for a little while before it is over.

The bad:

1. A slight twinge in my soleus muscle is probably making me freak out more than it should. Luckily, it doesn’t hurt while running and therefore doesn’t affect my stride. Lengthy warm-ups and not spending all day on my feet seem to be the key to rehab. Good thing I’m on the mileage downslide. More rest, yay!

2. I’m planning my summer already. May be nixing the R2R2R in favor of a Yooper 50M race and a fall road marathon. California International Marathon is starting to sound like fun. If you’ve run it, did they manage the number of people well? Wait, aren’t I supposed to be agonizing over Green Bay now?

3. Yup, I am. Inserting things into both Runner’s World and McMillan training calculators has given me some pretty good ideas on where I am right now. Goals will appear in a post next week.

4. Anyone want to pack for my trip? Three weeks of craziness with so many different activities, I think I’m gonna need about 100 suitcases worth of stuff to manage it all.

I can definitely notice my energy returning. The house has been spotless and I am cooking a lot more. I’ve returned to being Super-Wife! I leave for the U.P. in less than a week now and I’m already working on how I’m going to pack everything I need into one checked suitcase.

Did I mention I’m backpacking for a few days too? Need all that stuff as well. I’m pretty sure that my bag will be 80% outdoorsy things and 20% everyday clothes. I’m bringing one pair of jeans for three weeks, but four running/hiking shirts? My, how this life has evolved.

Matt has also subtly requested I bake him a bunch of heat-and-eat meals and several loaves of bread. How sad, married just for five years and he has forgotten how to cook. Luckily his birthday is Sunday, that will somehow be tied into his present.

Now you can see how I’m not going stir-crazy on the taper, right?

Do you enjoy marathon tapers? How do you deal with the extra time and energy?

Matt's Marathon Day

I stood alone on the bridge; a swift wind blowing down the river valley cooled me off as I waited.  I cheered for the runners as they came in.  Then finally, MY runner came.  I caught two blurry photos of him and then jumped in beside him. 

 “Run fast with me!  I’m not supposed to keep up with you!  Let’s go!”  We ran across the bridge and then I said I’d meet him at the finish.  I had no idea how close he was to his goal.  

Matt was at the oranges table when I spotted him.  He held out his wristwatch (he runs on feel, not on a Garmin, he’s just that awesome). 

  

3:01.45

a new PR, 

a re-BQ, 

1^st place in his age group, 

and good enough for sixth place overall.  

 This was also the first marathon where he wasn’t chicked.   

Not a sub-3:00, but it was still unbelievable.  This is the time it takes some people to run a HALF and the pace I go for when I run 800s, not an entire marathon!

Other club members came up to congratulate him on his performance.  They may have scoffed at his idea for a redo marathon this close his finish at Boston, thinking he was a headstrong kid and would do poorly.  But with his quiet confidence and humble nature, he showed them!!  One even said, “You make [our] club proud!”  

 Matt, you make everyone who knows you proud!