2013 in Review

I've grown to cherish my adventure photos more than most of my other possessions. One glance at the walls in my home and you'll agree, nearly all of them are from a beautiful place. Despite the obvious beauty of each one, they evoke memories hidden deep within the pixels.  Each Christmas, Matt and I pour over our year's photos and create a calendar for our families and share a glimpse of our travels with them.  Since I have new and different readers each year, I thought I'd once again, give you the highlights of another year gone by.

 January

I'm a planner. I feel best prepared when I make lists and do my research. I like to make the most of Matt's vacation time. Sometimes a weekend sneaks up on me and I have no plan. Two of these came up this month. One we ended up running an impromptu 50K in the Bay Area and the other, we went skiing near Mt. Shasta. Here's a photo from the latter. No jackets? What is this sorcery?
Races: Crystal Springs 50K, Patrick's Point 10K.

February

We returned to Fairbanks for the first time since we moved away, enjoying a week long ski trip to remote cabins, visits in town with friends and a soak at Chena Hot Springs. Despite the cold, -15F to -40F the whole trip, it ended up being one of my favorites. There's something beautiful about subzero landscapes that tugs at my heart in an unusual way.
 Races: None!

March

This month was the beginning of marathon training and local adventures. Good thing we have so much local beauty or this month would have been dull. We had some gorgeous trail runs along the California-Oregon border including this one near Brookings.
Races: Foggy Bottom Milk Run 10 Mi, Redwood Wild River Run 15K.

April

This is one of my favorites for the whole year, both the trip and the photo. A couple of our college friends visited from Michigan and they wanted a pretty backpack trip. The Lost Coast didn't disappoint. I love how such rugged wilderness is so nearby, it's definitely not the norm in California. Matt and I directed a trail race in April too. I wheeled the course for accuracy early in the week and made awards for the winners.  I never would have guessed I'd get to keep the award, but I won!! Hills really are my forte, I guess.
Races: Arcata Forest 5.5 Mile Race.

May

May was the month of the marathon. After a sinus infection derailed my first of the month, I decided to run a second two weeks later since I wasn't totally wrecked. My first race was at Green Bay ten years ago, it feels like my hometown course even if I live over 2,000 miles away now. It was awesome to celebrate my 10th running anniversary with marathon #10 at Green Bay. I also cheered my mom on in her first 5K. It was the best little girls' weekend. Someone told me that two marathons in two weeks makes me eligible for Marathon Maniacs, so I guess that's cool?

Races: Avenue of the Giants Marathon, Atalanta's Victory Run 5 Mi, Cellcom Green Bay Marathon.

June

June was the month of watching others run. First, we crewed for Danny at the Newport Marathon and then watched world class track athletes at the Prefontaine Classic in Eugene. So much runner nerd for one weekend. It was the best.

Races: Dow's Prairie 6.1 Mile Run.

July

Tour of Mont Blanc, the 104 mile hiking trail through the French, Swiss, and Italian Alps. This was the best idea ever. We slept in mountain refuges and ate pastry for ten days straight. America needs to set up treks like this. Pictured is Rifugio Bonatti, one of the refuges in Italy. My mom also came to visit and we took a lot of fun day trips together. It was nice to hang out together, it is rarely just the two of us.

Races: Fortuna Rodeo 5K. 

August

Matt and I returned to the U.P. to see my family and to Wisconsin to visit with his. Sometimes I miss having a real summertime that includes wearing shorts, but these short visits are enough to get my fill. I managed to shred my legs during a fall at the Marquette Trail 50K and come close to a DNF. As a result, the rest of the month was a little slow. No lasting damage to my knees, thankfully.

Races: Marquette Trail 50K, Sand Dollar Shuffle 5 Miler.

September

Just as my knees healed, I got salmonella. Apparently a month of resting does the body good because I ran a new half marathon PR.  We followed that race up with a trip to Utah to check out pretty red rocks and the beautiful Wasatch Mountains.

Races: The Rogue Run Half Marathon.

October

Fall marathon training took off in October. This month was mostly about running with friends. We shared wonderful trail runs with Danny, Paul, Tracy, Lanore, and two visiting friends from Alaska, Mike and Erik. I can't remember a month where we had this many running dates. This is when we took Mike and Erik to the Headwaters trail. My allergies flared up horribly for most of this month leaving my racing ability weak, but because of that I had some breakthroughs in my mental racing game.

Races: Turtle Bay Three Bridges Half Marathon, Humboldt Redwoods Half Marathon.

November

November held many commitments at home. We raised our own meat chickens and with the exception of a few day trips, we stayed put. This month was exceptionally sunny and warm and without coastal stratus, we were treated to many fantastic sunsets like this one.
Races: Arcata Bottoms 8 Miler, Turkey Trot 5K.

December

The highlight of this month was the California International Marathon. After two years of challenging marathons, either due to the weather or my allergies/asthma, almost all the pieces came together on this one and brought back the confidence in my marathon racing. The rest of the month was spent experimenting with my bread recipes, caroling with the saxophone quartet, and achieving kitty cat PRs.

Races: California International Marathon. 

Despite a few setbacks, this was a fantastic year. It was a wonderful blend of all of my favorite things. As far as running, I continue to see my consistency and hard work pay off. For the second year in a row, I won my age group in the club circuit, achieving first place at every race except one. I ran a PR at every distance other than 50K, that is pretty awesome.

Any suggestions for 2014? Should I try a 50 Miler? Got a pretty place I shouldn't miss for a trail run or hike?

Our Christmas Adventure

The cool air stings my still sensitive lungs. I'm not sure if they will ever be able to tolerate the cold like they used to.  I trudged up the steep climb, my throat and lungs filling with a tingly burning sensation with every step.  Barely a mile into the run and I couldn't help but think that a 30K run this soon after a tough marathon was a bad idea. What I'm slowly learning about myself is that when I talk about my off season, I don't actually mean it's a lot of time on the couch, it's just replacing one form of difficult for another.

In years past, holidays, especially Christmas, were miserable.  I browsed the internet, scrolling through photos all my friends had posted of their large family gatherings.  Family dinners, everyone in matching sweaters, baking cookies---it seemed everyone was spending the holiday with their loved ones except me.  This still makes me a little sad, the only difference now is I'm better at coping with it.  I throw myself into an adventure and that always puts me in a good mood. 

Running with Santa helps.

Before I decided on a course for the summer trail race, I wanted to run it once myself.  I covered all trails of this park when I prepared for my first ultra in 2011, but the last two years have blurred them all together into a tangled mass of memories. This was my attempt to unravel them.

My skin senses the shift back and forth through moist and dry micro-climate zones. Groves of second growth redwoods alternate with those of tanoak and huckleberry. It is rare to spot redwoods in the upland areas of this park, but this route has many such treasures.  We climb skyward and as we approach a curve, I ask Matt what he thinks is around the bend. "More uphill!" I exclaim. This became our joke for the day.  "Up! Up! Is it the top? LOL NOPE. More uphill! YAY!" Add in a couple false summits just for fun and you begin to understand why I use silly games to keep me from wanting to cry. This loop isn't all Redwood, but showcases all the beautiful remote sections of this wonderful little state park.

Climbs only grow steeper as you approach the top of Grasshopper Peak. The last five kilometers to the top twist every muscle on the downhill side of my body into fierce knots. I was barely moving at a walk and it took ninety minutes to cover that short distance. Fire roads here are no joke.

I choke back an evil laugh as I tell Matt what a shame it is that as race director, I won't be able to run this race. Matt directs the running club's other trail race, a hilly 5.5 mile course with about 1,000 ft. of climbing. If we're not careful, this might build us a reputation. Haha.

Our first view of the day appears about seven miles in. Looking off to the south, great panoramic views of the coastal King Range spread out before us.  The mountains are green and bound on their west side by the approaching stratus clouds of late afternoon. The glow of the sun shines directly upon us but offers little heat, only wildly deformed shadows mirroring our every movement. This time of year is typically rainy, but with the extended dry period we've been stuck in, the only reminders of winter we have are our festive outfits.

Matt and I reach the top and halfway point of our day in two and a half hours. From here, the majority of our trip is downhill. Finally a break. The knots on the back of my legs release at last and are replaced with those on my quads instead. We make our descent on a trail of similar grade. Ouch.

I make short tentative steps as I let gravity do most of the work. This is the only quad strength training I ever do and I'll be appropriately sore tomorrow. Views to the north now open up to us, offering a glimpse of the Bull Creek valley down below. Matt and I puzzle over trails we see carved into the hillside across the valley.  Is that Pole Line trail down there? It looks so far down, barely a hill at all, we agree. 

By the time we reach our next trail junction, my legs are wobbly and begging for a break. Johnson Camp trail is my favorite in the entire park. Its descent is gentle and switchbacks weave through the redwoods. The trees grow larger and more numerous until  we find ourselves in a valley next to the creek. My speed increases and I find that I've reduced my overall pace from 14:30/mi to 13:00/mi. I've long forgotten the difficulty of the first half of the run as I make up time.

I dash through holes in redwood trees that had previously fallen on the trail. Giant stumps twice as tall as me line the route. If this part of the course slows me down at all, it's because the trees are so spectacular. Bull Creek Flats trail weaves through many of the tallest trees on the planet. Footing is good and I often find myself gazing skyward as I run along.

As darkness falls on the redwoods, Matt and I sprint to outrun it. A burst of energy takes me by surprise and I finish strong. Now all we need is a race name......

3:59:14
18.6 mi.
12:50/mi.
4,697 ft. climb

Back to Trail Runner Mode

The first double digit run after the marathon felt great. I'm enjoying the easier pace and running only when I truly want to.  For the ten mile run, Matt and I chose a secluded logging road. The air was chilly and crisp and I enjoyed stomping the icy crust from potholes along the way.
 
After a few months of running exclusively on roads, I am surprised by how quiet the trails are. Birds sing in the trees and wind rustles through the leaves fallen to the ground.  The world rests in quiet repose, waiting for winter rains to arrive. The area has been exceptionally dry this year and if we get no rain before January 1, it will be the driest calendar year on record. One can easily see this in the landscape. Grasses are still dry from the summer, leaves are still crunchy. Thirsty trees beg for relief. The Redwoods suck moisture from the fog, but everything else remains brown.

As we run along, I relate to the landscape. Recovery has been slow. I thirst for relief as well. I begin each day feeling like myself, but by the end of each one, I have a sore throat and earaches so fierce that I'm convinced I'm coming down with something. The next morning, I'm fine and the daily cycle repeats itself. The only relief I've found other than sleeping is running, probably because it dilates my blood vessels enough to clear the pressure from my head. I've told the allergy nurse about this and she says it's all in my head. Yeah, duh. That's what I've been saying, my ears and throat.

The subject eventually turns to our race plans for 2014 and which races we want to complete locally, which ones to travel to, and an idea we've been thinking of for years: creating our own race. Soon after moving to California, we discovered Humboldt Redwoods State Park and were easily smitten with the variety and grandeur of the trails there. This state park is home to two road marathons each year, The Avenue of the Giants and Humboldt Redwoods, but has no trail races. For a park with so many trails, it is a shame they aren't shared in a similar manner.

Over one hundred miles of trails contour the hillsides of this coastal range of mountains and through a vein of three hundred foot Redwood trees running along the creeks and river.  I love this park, it is my favorite thing about living locally. I want to share this love with others in the form of a trail race. We'd like to design it in such a way that it can grow without much change to the course or staging areas. Matt and I will pitch our ideas to the running club in January. Hopefully they agree to take it on as a club race (and we can use their insurance and supplies) and we can make our it happen as early as June.  I'm excited to make this happen.

10 miles
1:32:45
9:17/mi.
973 ft. gain

If you were to travel here for a trail race, which distance of these three would you most likely travel for:  Half Marathon, 30K, or Marathon?

Unexpected PR!

It was one of those foggy afternoons that occur so frequently around here. One of those days where everyone sits inside and snuggles up with a cozy blanket.

Zoey demonstrates proper technique, complete with disgusted scowl.

We huddle next to something warm and take a nap.  This is especially true with me since the marathon was less than two weeks ago.  But somehow, this foggy Saturday turned into a PR day on my five mile route.

This is what the average foggy day looks like. Usually, one can see the ocean from here.

It started off slowly at first. I had no expectation to have a personal record for this course. I even brought the camera along so I could take pictures of Christmas decorations along my route. That seems to be how it always goes, doesn't it? But the best PRs are the ones you don't see coming.

Someone else wishes there was real snow.

The first mile was average for me. Then mile two, my numbers began to increase.  By mile three, I knew that I had a really good chance to PR if I just concentrated, focusing on the task at hand.

By mile four, I knew that I had a solid PR day and the final mile was a victory lap of sorts. I grinned from ear to ear. I did it! It was a new PR!

....

........

.............



SIXTEEN KITTY SIGHTINGS IN FIVE MILES!!!!!!!!!!!!!
3.2/mile average
(previous PR: 8)

Here are a few of them:

I see this guy almost every run.

New, very shy kitties.

I see him often too.

Some were easier to spot than others.

This house at 5pm has 5-8 cats. Just one at 1pm.

Santa Claws at mile 4.

Some were super friendly and some ran away before I could get a photo of them.

I have a weakness for fluffy kitties.

This one knew it too. Got a few snuggles before continuing on my way.

Runs like this are how I spend my off season. Most of the time, I skip the watch and run for fun. Within a month, I'm mentally recharged and ready to tackle another tough training cycle, even though my next one doesn't start for another three months. Then when I finally begin training hard again in March, I am brimming with motivation and excitement for the fast stuff.

What's your off season like? Do you go on sightseeing runs on your everyday routes? Am I one step from becoming the crazy cat lady or does my married status exempt me from that forever?

Ten Years of Running: By the Numbers

Earlier this year, I ran the Green Bay Marathon to celebrate my ten year running anniversary. This is where I ran my first race, the half marathon, so it was fitting that I could attend this particular race. The day offered the opportunity to reflect on how I've grown as a runner and as a person in that time. I think it was my favorite race yet, remembering how I toed this starting line most of those ten years. Memories of fatigue, triumph, and frustration awaken each time I run this race.  In addition to all those stories, data sets full of finish times and mileage totals accumulate in my logbook.

Beat up running log= well loved

Each month looks like this. I use different symbols for each pair of shoes. Not the simplest way, but I don't like to fix what isn't broken.

A few months ago, a reader asked me if I kept a training log on Daily Mile. Even though I don't use an online running log, I have kept a very detailed one since 2006, when I began anew after a year-long running hiatus to battle cancer. I include races, monthly and yearly total mileage.  After writing my CIM recap last week, I realized that my blog doesn't quite detail the big picture and finishing out my tenth year with a post about those numbers seems fitting.

Basically, it looks like one long increase in mileage and steadily dropping race times. I have followed a very gentle progression and found a balance that works to keep me both uninjured and getting faster. I don't like taking a lot of time off, so running in a way that challenges me yet avoids complete burnout is essential.

If you're not interested in all the numbers and paces, feel free to skip this post. This is what my first ten years of running numbers has looked like. Figures do not include hiking, biking, or drunken college girl strolls at midnight.

Since 2006, I've covered 9,716 miles and burned through thirty pairs of shoes. As my form became more efficient and I bought higher quality shoes, that number has slowed and I've been able to squeeze more miles out of each pair.

Click on the picture to see the large version.

Click on the picture to see the large version.

Important dates that had effects on my running:
Jan. 2006: Resume normal life after cancer. I could barely walk two blocks when I began the year.
June 2007: Married my college running buddy. Instant training partner!
July 2007: Moved to Oklahoma. Ugh. Stupid heat and humidity.
Feb. 2008: Moved to Alaska. Winters had lower mileage. Began trail running.
Oct. 2010: Moved to California. Woooo! Year round crazy training!
Jan. 2011: IT Band injury and over-trained. Ooops. Recovered and learned my lesson by March.

Do you keep running logs? What do you use?

A Little R&R

It is now five days after CIM and I've had some time to rest my legs and my mind.  I've taken that time to really mull over the results of this race and put my thoughts into words:

1. Where I gush about how awesome you guys are: I'd like to thank everyone that commented on my race report. At times, the support you, my readers, show is overwhelming. I love that a few of you couldn't wait for the recap and did some digging to find my finish results. Reading through the comments brought tears to my eyes. It is an honor that you find my determination so inspiring. Honestly, I don't think I could have come this far without your support and encouragement.

2. On Goal Times (and missing them): For the factors that I could control, I had a fantastic time and was very pleased with how I handled the day. Even though my body begged me to stop, I was unwilling to let it get the better of me. I pushed until there was absolutely nothing left. When I began my recap, I analyzed my splits. I still have trouble believing that my death march pace was only a 10:20. It honestly felt like I was standing still.

It may seem that I constantly miss my goal time, and I understand that some people would think I was disappointed, but here's the thing: I'm not. I'd much rather set a goal time based on everything lining up perfectly and fall a few minutes short than go for something easier and meet my goal every time. I was just three minutes slower than my goal, that's pretty average for the marathons I've done.

Honestly, I think there has been just one marathon (of eleven) where I've actually met the "stars aligning" goal. If I set easy goals for myself, I might just miss out on that perfect day when it comes. If I'm bummed about anything it is that that day wasn't the "perfect" one. But I keep setting tough goals and racing hard just in case it is that day.

3. How I shrug off weird comments: When non-runner friends ask how my race went, they ask how I placed or if I won. And ever since the Boston Marathon bombing this year, everybody knows that you must be fast to qualify for that race, so they ask me if I did that too. It seems a bigger deal to them than for me. Many of them don't understand that I don't race to necessarily do any of those things. I enjoy the process and working hard to improve. If running came easy to me, I would probably get bored with it and find something I found challenging.

4. Now what? A few of you asked what my next race will be. I plan on hitting the trails for the next couple of months to recharge. Instead of track workouts and pace runs, I'll be splashing in the mud, playing in the snow, and dumping sand from my running shoes. I'll let my body guide me on intensity as I build a really solid mileage base. The beach and Redwoods are calling my name and I'm excited to begin those runs next week.  As I do with the road ones, I like to finish off each trail season with a race. This year, it will be the Little Su 50K in Southcentral Alaska on February 15th. Instead of goal times for trail races, I think of it as a group fun run with a bunch of great snacks.

Then I'll recover for a few weeks and hit the roads again in March. Matt found a marathon in southern California where he's eligible for an elite entry. After deflating his ego, we decided to enter that race. It looks like a scenic and fast course. If you're interested in joining us, check the race website out and decide for yourself.

California International Marathon 2013

As I ate my race day breakfast of champions, a chocolate frosted donut and bowl of Lucky Charms, I felt oddly calm. In the last few weeks, everything seemed to be coming together perfectly. My allergies/asthma had finally calmed down, the weather looked a little chilly but nice, and I'd slept like a baby all week. Maybe it was the 4:30am wake-up call, but I felt unusually relaxed about everything.

Friends don't believe me when I say my race fuel is Lucky Charms. Check out the nightstand. I don't joke about my race routine.

Exhibit B: Cheerful nails. Matt's say: "Go Karen", Mine: "Run Fast"

Matt and I managed to pick our friend Lanore out of the sea of 8,000 runners. We decided to run the first miles together. She was shooting for 3:30 and I was hoping for 3:30-3:35.  The rising sun illuminated the cloud of steam that rose from the runners up ahead. Temperatures were in the mid-20s at the start and didn't rise above freezing until after I finished. The three of us were happy when the race finally began and we could warm up a bit. The first few miles were run with frozen shoes and feet. I had forgotten what chilly runs felt like. With as much cold weather experience as I have (Alaska Karen would balk and call 25F "balmy"), I was confident that a few miles would warm me up wonderfully.

In the months leading up to this race, I debated whether or not to run based on feel. Until I chained myself to a specific time goal a few marathons ago, I had always run and done well pacing off of internal cues. I decided to go back to that and ignore my watch other than the mile splits.  On this rolling hills course, Garmin wasn't going to be much help anyways.

Miles 1-6: 8:08, 7:51, 7:48, 7:42, 7:55, 7:56

The first six miles passed quickly and I was surprised when we were already that far. If a mile split was too quick, I made sure to slow the next one down a little. I thought back to last year's 5 mile split, I felt incredible today compared to then!  Matt, Lanore, and I chatted about the spectator signs until she began to pull away from me at mile 7.

The course made a sudden turn south and sunshine filtered through broken clouds. It was beautiful. Depending on whether the aid station was in the shade or not determined its safety. We had to slow quite a bit for most of them on the first half of the course. Runners ahead had dropped partially used cups of water and it was glare ice. Many stations had someone out front shouting a warning about the ice. It was a nice smooth glaze over the roadway and Matt said he saw a couple people fall. Ouch. The Gatorade was a nice temperature, but the water was so cold it hurt my teeth and made me cough as it went down.

At some point before halfway, I looked over at Matt and saw he had half inch icicles growing from his beard. He ran his fingers across his chin to investigate. "I knew I should have brought the camera," he said. This is his first beard and he's constantly amused by how it feels, looks, and behaves in all kinds of weather. I may never see his clean shaven freckles again!

(source) It looked like this. Cropped to keep me looking like too much of a creeper....

At mile 9, I felt the really easy effort level begin to slip away. This is about where I expected it and just let myself forget about pacing. My legs know what to do.

Miles 7-13: 7:51, 8:04, 8:01, 7:55, 8:02, 8:00, 7:57

I reached halfway in 1:44. "You only have to keep under 8:30 pace the rest of the way to run a 3:35!" I said to myself, "You can do that! That's your long run pace!"

Miles 14-20: 7:59, 8:29 (inhaler), 8:03, 8:01, 8:17, 8:11, 8:37

Last time I was at the allergist, I asked about how to use my inhaler during a long race. She told me that since a marathon is much more intense on my lungs, I could use it more frequently, once an hour if I needed to. The cold air caused some mild discomfort in my lungs so I decided that two hours in was time enough for a hit. I pulled off to the curb at mile 15 and fought with cold fingers to get the inhaler out and positioned properly to get anything into my mouth. After a few failed attempts, I was finally able to get it to work. Within a mile, I felt my body relax and I was able to run comfortably once again.

During a particularly sunny spot in mile 17, I heard a voice call out to me. "Go Karen and Matt!" It was Becky manning one of the intersections as a course marshal. That's when I thought of all of you, my readers, following along at home. I don't say it enough, but I truly cherish all the support you've given me during these last few years. As much as I wanted to have a good day for myself, I wanted to make all of you proud as well.

Pre-race dinner with, Matt, blogger Selica, Lanore and her husband Ron (not pictured).

The cold in my hands began to travel up into my arms and neck. Since I always sweat so heavily, I can never get my hands warm without being completely drenched everywhere else and now I was feeling the chilly breeze slice through my outfit.  I drafted off of Matt and it helped a bit but my breathing had returned to a loud, raspy donkey wheeze. My lips were numb and my throat sore from the cold air (I'm a mouth-breather when I run). Without realizing it at first, I had begun raising my hand to my mouth to warm my face. It wasn't really helping.

Miles 21-25: 8:27, 8:46 (inhaler), 8:40, 8:56, 9:04

As I gradually slowed, Matt found himself looking over his shoulder more frequently and noticing I was falling behind. I turned on my iPod and used it to pacify any negative thoughts. It worked perfectly and soon I was jamming as I ran down the street. I slowed to almost a walk as we crossed a small bridge over the American River., but otherwise kept a steady shuffle. Now we were on the Downtown Sacramento grid.  Not much longer now, I told myself, You've got this! I was passing dozens of people and found this enormously encouraging.

Then mile 25 came. Everything suddenly seized up. My vision blurred and my legs trembled. With each footfall, I found myself focusing on the landing just to stay upright. It reminded me of the fatigue I had late in chemo treatments. I could barely stand. As the 3:35 pace group passed by, I told myself to stick with them and catch up. My body refused to move with them. It was as if I were standing still, my legs tied together, watching as they sprinted by.

"Don't stop, you're almost there!" Matt offered. Even though he didn't mention it, I could tell by the look on his face that he already knew I'd miss my goal. For the last half of a mile, he repeated the same thing. "You're almost there, keep going. Don't stop." He later said he was surprised I didn't bark angrily at him and didn't stop. Instead I just agreed and mindlessly followed him down the street.

Mile 26: 10:20

When we reached the split for the separate male and female finish lines, Matt reminded me of our agreement. We were going to race to the finish; he promised not to go all out.  On that final straightaway lined with people, I wobbled as they cheered for me. I can only imagine that I looked like a stumbling drunk as lithe runners dashed past me. I'm sure at least a dozen girls passed me on that final approach alone.

The volunteers must have seen me struggling because as I tripped over the second of two timing mats, they caught me and I never hit the ground.  They pulled me back up and pretty much carried me through the line, stopping to remove the timing chip, get my medal, and wrap me in a foil blanket. Eventually the quaking in my legs had diminished enough for me to stand on my own. They offered to help me to the med tent, but I mumbled something about Matt finishing with me and pointed to the men's finish line. "He's just right over there", I said. I thanked them for their help. Upon realizing that I did have someone to look after me and I wasn't just babbling incoherently, they left me with him. "Finish line angels swooped down and saved me," I told Matt.  Okay, maybe I wasn't quite with it after all. I still don't know how it happened, but someone managed to pause my Garmin within ten seconds of my finishing.

We gathered our sweat bags and found a spot on the lawn of the state capitol building. There were still quite a few frosty spots on the grass but we chose a sunny one. I sprawled out in the sunshine and rested for a few minutes before changing into a dry shirt and reading the time on my watch. A few minutes short of my goal, but still a respectable PR (previous: 3:43:07, CIM 2012):

3:37:36
8:19/mi.

I have to admit that it stings a little bit to watch my goal slip away in the last half mile. Maybe my asthma medications make my lungs more sensitive to the cold? All I know is that I spent the remainder of the day coughing and feeling slightly confused. I should have worn a scarf to warm the air as I breathed it in.

I remember the Dairy Queen part too.

The worst part of it is that I had two friends congratulate me on a Boston Qualifying time without them realizing that for my age, 3:37 is just shy of one. I hated having to correct them and say "no, I was two minutes off." One even congratulated me and then said, "oh, well I take it back then," when I told him I didn't BQ. Thanks, I guess?

I am proud of the fact that I didn't give up. I have a new PR. Sometimes progress doesn't follow a linear pattern and it's essential to look back at the big picture.  With this marathon, I’ve officially removed over 80 minutes from my first marathon time (4:58:35) in 2009.

Running doesn’t come easy to me, the last thing someone would call me is a “natural”, so every bit of what I’ve accomplished has come from hard work and consistency. And if that's not something to be proud of, I don't know what is.