The Rogue Run Half Marathon

Last week produced a roller coaster of emotions when I thought about running this race.  It ranged from terror and panic that I would actually soil myself during the race and/or be uncomfortable the entire time to absurd dreams of having a magical day where everything was right in the world and unicorns and ponies would carry me to a fantastic new PR.  When race day finally arrived, I still had no goal and to tell you the truth, it was nice.  To take the pressure off of myself, I convinced myself that something in the 1:50 range would be good.

After a quick good luck to Matt and Lanore and a stern warning to my barely-recovered body, we were off.  I hung back patiently as dozens of people zipped past me.  I promised myself that I'd catch them all later.  The first few miles passed quickly.  I paid little attention to my watch other than noticing my mile splits.  I was running moderately hard, but it felt sustainable.

Mile 1: 7:35
Mile 2: 7:42
Mile 3: 7:45

We quickly joined a paved bike path that wove aimlessly through a series of parks.  It was almost like they added the curves on this path to make it more exciting.  I focused most of my energies on running the tangents.  Eventually, I found myself running stride for stride with a woman that insisted on staying just one step ahead of me.  I decided to let her take the lead and we took turns pacing until almost mile 10.  We seemed to take the same amount of time at the aid stations and while she bombed the downhills, I passed her on the uphills.  I've never hung back behind and let someone pace me before.  I let my mind wander and just focused on keeping with her.

Mile 4: 7:42
Mile 5: 7:29
Mile 6: 7:40

On several occasions in this first 10K, I questioned whether I was going out too fast.  Instead of slowing down and being conservative, I decided to be a little riskier and just go with it.  I could slow down later if I had to.  I ran the first 10K faster than my 10K PR (a 7:54/mi pace) could I really run a second half 10K PR too?

Mile 7: 7:44
Mile 8: 7:44
Mile 9: 7:42

Nearing the mile 10 aid station, I grabbed two waters and watched my pace buddy slip away (she stayed within sight the remainder of the race) as I gulped them down.  By now, I found myself in a rhythm and let my legs do all the driving.  Years of music practices and marching band have made me (annoying at times) unusually attentive to the rhythm at which my feet fall.  After a while, my feet just fall at that same cadence.  It was here that a young boy half my size flew by.  I decided he was my replacement pacer.

Mile 10: 7:34 (thanks, kiddo!)
Mile 11: 7:43

I started to really get tired around mile 11.  I calculated finish times in my head.  You only need to keep running for 20 more minutes.  You can do that!  At mile 12, it became 10 more minutes.  When we finally traded the bike path for a paved road that lead to the finish, I picked up the pace.  The other runners near me did the same.  Few of us changed position that final mile (I did out-kick the 10 year old boy).  I imagined myself attached to the runner ahead, a long string pulling me along behind him.

Mile 12: 7:32
Mile 13: 7:43

That final mile seemed to last an eternity.  I wasn't sure exactly where the finish line was until I began seeing runners disappear around a corner, less than a quarter mile from the end.  When the finish clock came into view, I saw it tick over from 1:39 to 1:40.  With the last bit of energy I had left, I sprinted that last portion, finally closing much of the gap between me and the runner ahead.  I stopped my watch as I crossed the final timing mat and did a small happy dance.  I had a new PR. I think that my 29th year will have more than one PR in it! 

1:40:47
7:42/mi.
Female under 30: 9/82
Overall: 76/674

We got prints of our stats right at the finish line and unique finish medals.

Best celebration food ever!

Matt had a fantastic race too!  He took third in his age group and got his first ever CASH prize.  I told him that this now makes him a professional runner.
1:20:17
6:08/mi.
11th overall

Lanore, the rock star that she always is, finished in 1:33:52 and took home some prize money too!

Last Week: Sept 15-21

Sunday: Run 5 mi in 43:59.
This run was the first one where I felt pretty good, so I let myself go faster.

Monday: Run 8 mi. in 1:10:05.
I had to make a few emergency bathroom stops.  The first business I tried, they turned me away.  The second one, with a clear "no public restrooms" sign posted let me use theirs. I will definitely buy gas from you next time.  Matt and I also stopped along our local trail.  Recently, illegal campers have taken over and they are everywhere.  Usually it isn't an issue.  This day, one of them was very loudly talking about me and Matt glared at them.  One became aggressive and asked Matt if he had a problem.  The winter rains can't come soon enough, it usually flushes out the trouble.

This was the day I was officially diagnosed with Salmonella.  The health department said I probably got it from an infected person that didn't wash their hands after using the bathroom.  Gross.  I would have preferred it come from my own lack of food safety.

Tuesday: Rest

Wednesday:  Run 4.25 mi. in 34:32.  
I tried a faster run to see if my digestive system would handle it.  My cool down was where the problem was.  The run splits were the best since getting sick: 8:23, 7:59, 7:58, 7:54, 2:17 (0.25 mi slow).

Thursday: Walk 3 mi.
Matt and I did a short hike in the Redwoods on the way to our campground.  Then we walked a little when we got there.  I figured that after Wednesday's run, I could probably kick the rest of my lingering symptoms if I didn't run for a few days.

Friday: Walk 2 mi.
Another walk near the campground and along the Rogue River in Oregon.

Saturday: Run 3 mi.
The first rainy run of the season.  I felt really strong and awesome.  Matt noticed my energy and told me that I'd probably have a surprisingly great day at the half on Sunday.  I hoped he was right.

TOTAL MILES: 25.25

Notes:  Most of the week's runs left me literally running to the bathroom.  Salmonella is no joke, people.  For real.  Thursday and Friday without the jostling movement of running seemed to provide the healing powers my body needed and gave me a dream day on Sunday.  I'll get that race report up next :)

Another Year Passes

Each year on my birthday, I think back to where I was the previous year on this same day.  Last year, I spent most of my time in an airport flying home from after a visit with my brother.  Not much fun.

This year, Matt and I decided to make a weekend trip to Medford for a half marathon, two days after my birthday.  Matt shuffled his work schedule around a little bit to get an extra long weekend out of the deal.  More time for exploring?  That's just what I want for my birthday!

On Thursday, we leisurely made our way up the coast, stopping when the mood struck us.  I still wasn't recovering quickly enough from the salmonella, so I decided to take Thursday and Friday (my actual birthday) off from running.  That didn't stop us from hiking the Simpson-Reed trail as we passed through the Jedidiah Smith Redwoods Park on the highway. 

Recently, a Redwood had fallen from within the grove on this trail onto the highway.  A large patch crossed both lanes of traffic and splinters of several trees remained on both sides.  The best way to really understand how much wood these trees really hold is to examine one of the fallen ones. 

We spent the night at the Valley of the Rogue State Park, a narrow state park wedged between Interstate 5 and the Rogue River.  In this beautiful and narrow section of the valley, it seems an ideal place to put a state park....if you're hard of hearing.  The otherwise peaceful impression of this park is forever ruined by the sound of traffic.  The noise rises from the valley floor and echoes up from there.  Matt and I stayed in a yurt and listened to music at night, something we never do, and it seemed to help us forget about the freeway.

The next morning, we found that a little tomato plant was growing near the water spout by our yurt.  Someone must have washed their salad dishes here a few months ago.  I was tempted to take him home, but I think he'd much prefer the warm inland areas to coastal fog.

We spent much of my birthday exploring the town of Ashland.  It is a small town halfway up Mt. Ashland and full of cute, artsy shops.  This isn't the kind of exploring I usually do, but it was nice on the showery day.  That night, we got dressed up and had a fancy dinner out.

Saturday was the race bib pickup and we went to REI.  Then we rested for Sunday's race.  I'll tell you more about that soon, I've been having computer issues lately.  Maybe we need to upgrade that ten year old laptop, hey? Clearly modern technology is not high on my priority list.

Last Week: Sept 8-14

Sunday: Rest.
I felt absolutely awful this day so I skipped the 10K I planned to race that morning.  There was no question I made the right decision.  That afternoon, after writhing on the couch all day with cramps, I talked to my doctor.  She said I was fine, drink a lot of fluids, and to take Imodium.   Everything else could be business as usual.

Monday: Run 5. Easy. 
I didn't push this one at all, it mostly served the purpose to undo the traffic jam that the Imodium caused.  A little bit of cramping on my left side but otherwise was fine.

Tuesday: Tuesday: Run 8.  Easy. 1:09:48, 8:44/mi.
Made a few bathroom stops on this run.  Otherwise, it felt okay.

Wednesday:  Run/hike 14mi to Devil's Punchbowl. 
I really enjoyed this day.  It felt as though my body was recovering from whatever bug I had.  Doctor had mentioned on Sunday that the blood I had noticed was normal.  When I experienced my first maroon poop that night, I knew that she had to be wrong.

Thursday: Run 5 mi very very easy after visiting doctor.
She told me to take it easy, so *sigh* that's what I did when everyone else was doing speed work.  It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Very easy run in circles=meditation.  Who knew.

This is what the doctor meant when she said "Easy" right?

Friday:  Rest. 
Didn't feel like running.

Saturday:  Run 4 mi.
very very very easy again just to keep the colon traffic moving.  This one almost bordered on feeling good.

TOTAL: 36 mi.

Notes:  After this week (on the 16th), I got a call from my doctor.  Diagnosis: Salmonella.  I had lengthy talks with the health department too and they didn't seem to know where I got it either.  Their best guess was from someone infected touched something I did.  Yay.

I only exercised when I felt good enough to do so, and I almost literally spent the rest of the time on the couch.  This week has been the same way.  Really, it has been Netflix and jigsaw puzzles for two weeks.  Pushing myself now to complete more miles will only make recovery take longer. 

I'm hoping that I'll soon be able to regain some momentum and be able to train again.  As for this week, I'm feeling a lot better.  Other than a little bit of lingering fatigue, I have no symptoms most of the time.  I can tell I'm not fully recovered because my angry colon still insists we stop for the bathroom on every run.  Hopefully that will clear up by the half marathon on September 22.  Otherwise, I'll need to plan for extra time to plant some shrubs on the race course.

Devil's Punchbowl

For the briefest of windows in the fall, the inland mountains are perfect for adventures.  Most of summer is too hot and dry that we have to carry too much water and sweat out even more.  Winter has too much snow and avalanche danger to get very high up.  It's like I'm the Goldilocks of mountain adventures or something.  I am, however, anxious for the lower elevation winter snowy playtime to begin.


I had been feeling sick over the weekend, but soon realized that staying active helped alleviate the symptoms and with reassurance from my doctor, I kept myself moving.  In order to heal up as fast as I could, I decided to revert all my miles to easy ones.  Of course, there really aren't easy miles in the mountains, are there?

After last year's trip to the Pierson cabin on Bear Basin Butte, Matt and I decided we would return to complete the trail to Devil's Punchbowl this summer.  I'd already squandered most of Matt's precious four-day weekend writhing on the couch, so when we decided to do entirely too much driving for just an overnight trip, it seemed justified. 

We arrived at the trail just before midday and ran easily on the gentle downhill trail.  When we hiked this trail last year, it alternated between being a river and snow.  Now it was perfectly dry, kicking up dust with every footfall.  There were also a lot more rocks.  What the heck.

Although it was nearly noon, temperatures beneath the canopy on this northern slope were moderate.  Matt and I chatted leisurely as we mostly power hiked the rocky portions.  My technical trail running skills are still recovering from the fall in Marquette.  Eventually I'll regain my confidence, but for now it remains as visible as the giant scars on my knees.  I have become a stronger hiker this summer, likely from the trip to the Alps.  Matt made note of that and frequently asked me what the rush was.  Without realizing it, I was traveling faster than it felt. 

Our trail eventually contoured and began switchbacks downhill.  Something was wrong.  Neither of us remembered this part from the previous trip.  When we reached a bend in the trail, I pointed skyward, "you know, we're supposed to be up there.  I think we missed the trail junction."  We backtracked up the mountain as I angrily cursed my inattention.  Why can't we ever take a wrong turn on an uphill or flat section? I thought.  Seriously, now.

Trying not to look dead while I catch my breath.

Eventually we found the trail junction, hidden between three large downed trees.  I remembered seeing this spot earlier and assuming the steep trail up through the branches was just from when the workers removed them from the trail.  Soon we were back on the spur trail to Devil's Punchbowl.  Just as I thought I couldn't possibly climb the steep switchbacks any further, the trail emerged from the trees and a gentle breeze blew across the rock.  Like most of the other local ranges, once you emerge above the treeline, it becomes a stark, rocky place that is much slower to hike.  The trail disappeared and only small rock cairns marked the route as we picked our way through the boulders.

Just under two hours and seven miles into our day, we reached the first of two lakes.  It was mid afternoon and the hot rocks burned the soles of my feet as I approached the water's edge. 

Lake #1 and the warmer of the two.

Any idea what this is? It was swimming underwater and has four legs.

I slipped around on the glossy film that covered each underwater rock and teetered until I reached water deep enough to actually swim.  By the time Matt and I made a lap around the lake, the running outfit I had left on the rocks was already dry. 

We continued on, hiking higher until we reached the larger lake and the trail's namesake, Devil's Punchbowl.  This cirque lake pooled at the base of Bear Mountain, the highest in Del Norte County, and its great jagged peaks reflected in the calm waters.  I was already warming up again and just before my skin produced its first trickle of sweat, I was back in the water once more.  Matt sat on the shore taking in the view and watching fish literally jump from the water as they caught bugs.

Our route home was slightly shorter without the wrong-turn detour and we soon found ourselves back at the car, dutifully waiting in the shady spot where we left her.  Matt and I enjoyed lunch overlooking the coastal mountains.  We split a large sandwich, bag of chips, and a hard cider.  If I could make this my everyday, I doubt I'd get sick of it.  I love me some mountains, even ones in hard to reach places such as Devil's Punchbowl.

14 mi.
4:05:52 (not including the swims).
about 4,000 ft. gain.

Still Sick

My grandpa died just before my seventh birthday. He was the best kind of grandpa someone could hope for. He often sneaked us ice cream before dinnertime, just moments after Mom said we couldn’t have any. This was his flannel shirt.

As my sister, brother, and I grew older, my mom brought out this cozy flannel when we were sick. It always has been too big for us and its soft fabric hugged us like a warm blanket. Remembering Grandpa and thinking of him watching over us instantly made us feel a little better.

I wore this shirt a lot when I was going through cancer treatments, I think that’s how it came to live with me. Every time I feel sick, I put it on and even though it isn’t as soft as it used to be, it still provides an extraordinary amount of comfort.

He died in September of 1991. While writing this post, I decided to look up the exact date. It was today. I burst into tears. Grandpa, you really are watching over me, aren’t you? I still miss you.

Last Week: Sept1-7

Sunday: Run 3 mi.  Strength: Core, legs.
Hmm...three miles my running log said I completed, but I don't remember at all.  Interesting.

Monday: Rest

Tuesday:  Run 6 mi. in 46:56, 7:49/mi. (goal: 7:45-7:55/mi)
Bike 4 mi.

This was my first pace run of the season and I was a little bit nervous.  But I just went out and did it and had a pretty great result.

Wednesday: Run 6 mi. easy. untimed.

Thursday: Run 5 mi: 4x880yds (goal 3:25)
Matt and I ran this on the track where the college XC team was warming up.  You'd go out too fast too if you knew they were watching.  I reined myself in for the other repeats. 

Friday: Run 11 mi. at the Headwaters Forest.

Saturday: Rest

TOTAL: 31 mi.

Notes:  This week was supposed to have an extra rest day so I could race well on Sunday.  I ended up being too sick to run the race.  No big deal, I had some really solid workouts and felt like the week went well.  Before Friday's run, I started to have digestive issues that are still really impacting my running this week.  It is worrying enough to go see a doctor, so that's what I'm doing today.

Headwaters Funshine Run

The locals say that during the summer, the temperature gradient from the coast to the inland areas increases one degree per mile.  With temperatures on the coast in the seventies, I was afraid to imagine what our run in the Headwaters Forest would be like, some ten miles off the ocean.  Luckily, the weather pattern was just enough different and we were surprised with a shady run in the low 80s.  That's more than tolerable for an easy run.

Usually, I push myself on this route, but not today.  I was coming down with some sort of stomach bug and felt off all day.  Running was the last thing I wanted to do, but Matt and I had been trying to coordinate schedules with our running club buddy, Lanore for nearly a month. 

Lanore, a very experienced road runner, had just taken up trail running.  Every time I've seen her this summer, she's suggested we get together for a trail run and brainstorm ideas for creating our club's own long trail run.  As we casually ran along the wide gravel path to the Elk River bridge crossing, our enthusiastic ideas flowed freely as the river.  We decided that we would have proposed routes and dates for our race by the first of the year, and then we'd propose it to the club board of directors (if it is a club race, we get to use their RRCA insurance!!)

We danced playfully up that 1,5000 ft. climb to the old growth like it wasn't a big deal at all.  Running slowly enough to keep the conversation going, I was surprised when we reached the top.  "Here already?" I thought. 

We zoomed along on the loop through the giant trees, snapping a few photos as we went along.  Just the day before the run, I'd read an article about the trail user survey they did here.  Less than 10% of visitors make it to the end of the trail and enjoy this, undoubtedly the best part of the whole thing. 

Fortunately for us, the trail remains in pristine condition and provides solitude that few other trails so close to town afford.  As a hike, I'm sure it hardly feels worth the effort to go 11.5 miles for just this mile lollipop loop at the top.  But for a run, it is perfect: three miles gentle warmup, two climbing, the mile of awesome Redwoods at the top, two miles fabulous descent, and then three back out to the parking area.  It is the closest trail to my house, so it is easy enough to get out here during the week.  When my mid-week runs get above ten miles, I often find myself here instead of pounding the miles on pavement. 

As we reached the final mile of the trail and headed west, the sun lowered enough to filter through and illuminate the normally benign section of trail.  As frequently happens at these lower sun angles, the best view was behind us.  Lanore had me run back and forth on the trail so she could get a picture.  She definitely trail runs the way we do.  Back and forth, get a good shot, back and forth, oops, the settings were wrong.  Try again.  No wonder our trail runs are so slow, right?

Is that my aura?

It was the perfect way to start off Matt's work week (even though everyone else thought it was Friday).  Lanore is definitely an entertaining running buddy, hopefully our training schedules will line up more in the future.  Both of us are running the half in Medford (later this month) and CIM (again, remember when I ran into her unexpectedly at the race last year?).

11 mi.
2:06:38.
11:31/mi.
about 1,800 ft. climbing.

Why I Like Marathon Training

In the mountains above Courmayeur on a particularly easy terrain day back in June, Matt and I bounded down the trail while discussing our fall racing season.  Typically, we agree on a race and train together, running the same workouts.  He runs a warmup on my speed days and I ride my bike on his.  This fall, Matt finally announced something he'd been thinking about for the last few months: he wanted to focus on shorter distances.  As much as I wanted to join him and focus on the half marathon and 5K, the siren call of the marathon rang loudly in my ears.  Although the last few marathons haven't gone to plan, I've realized something: I truly love the long training process, no matter the outcome.

I love long runs.  I love planning the route, packing a snack, and going at an easy enough pace so Matt and I have up to three hours of distraction-free conversation.  We often have our best talks during runs like this.  We've discussed our finances and plans to relocate; we've counted the stray cats and discovered new gardening ideas in the yards on our routes; we've laughed and cried together.  I'm not sure we'd be as close as we are without these weekly adventures.

I love that drained feeling that comes after a long run.  My skin and muscles feel clean and relaxed, like they both were scrubbed clean and feel new again.  I fall asleep at night with a satisfied smile on my face, the kind that only a full day of hard work can bring on.

With the limited strength in my arm, even scrubbing down my bathtub causes soreness that lasts for days.  If I use our glass mixing bowl or cast iron cookware, Matt has to help me hold the bowl while I scrape the contents out.  It is surprising how many daily activities I actually need help with.  Many of them, I've learned to adapt.  I open jars by squeezing them between my feet and using my right arm to loosen the lid.  I roll dough onto a cutting board so I can turn it and make everything a uniform thickness.  With running, I'm just like everybody else.  My legs function the way they're supposed to.  No limitations.  I like that while I'm running, I'm not reminded of my shortcomings but of the possibilities resulting from hard work.

My everyday life isn't physically demanding.  If it weren't for running, I'd definitely fall into the very sedentary part of the population.  I like that having a goal, especially one as time consuming as a marathon, to keep me striving to improve.  More miles means more fun, right?

I enjoy the fact that it takes months of preparation to reach the race day.  I enjoy struggling to complete a certain workout at a prescribed pace and then one day, unexpectedly breaking through and feel like I'm flying.  I love that feeling of momentum that builds during the season, the increased confidence, and the fact that in this solitary sport, I got to this feeling of accomplishment all on my own.

In a way, I'm glad that fast marathons haven't come easy to me, because without occasional failure, how can we truly appreciate success?

In Training and Recovery, August 18-31

Recovery Week 1:
August 18-24:

Sunday and Monday: Rest. My knees barely bent. I did a lot of icing to get the swelling down.

Tuesday: Run 2 miles. in 20:39, 10:20/mi.  It was really slow and was half walking.  It felt good to stretch the muscles.

Wednesday: Canoe 8ish miles.  Then I read my book.

Thursday: Open water swim the length of the island: 0.30 miles.

Friday: Open water swim around the island: 0.55 miles. and 
Run 5.25 mi. 48:03, 9:09/mi, on a nice bike path on the mainland.

Saturday: Fly!

Total: Run 7.25 mi. and 0.85 mi swim.

Recovery Week 2:
August 25-31:

Sunday: Fly and 3 mi run. Those three stunk a lot. Sleeping in the airport isn't very restful.

Monday: Run 6 mi. fartlek run. in 50:30. Depending on how many pickups were in each mile, the pace varied a lot. First and last mile had zero, others depended on intersections (we time the sprints with sections of road that don't have driveways or road crossings) had 2-4 fast sections.

Tuesday: Run 5 mi. easy.  So much sunshine, how disgusting. ;)

Wednesday: Run 12 mi. in 1:43:24, 8:37/mi.  I began this run feeling tired and weak but after warming up, it went better.  Carried no water or fuel, only hit a couple of water fountains along the way.  My knees did ache a little near the end of the run.

Thursday: Rest! Dug up our garden potatoes on this gorgeous 75F day!  Got about 85 lbs of potatoes, including the monster 3lb one I'm holding in the photo below.

Tell me you garden in your bikini too!

Friday:  Run 3mi easy.

Saturday: Sand Dollar Shuffle Race. 38:25.  5.5 miles total. 
I felt a bit flat running this race but found someone to push me more than I would have otherwise.  No knee issues so that made me happy in itself.

Where's my snorkel?

Total: 34.5 mi.

Notes: I was pretty exhausted for both of these weeks.  I'm definitely still recovering. The upcoming week will be about 40 miles and then progress upward toward the marathon.  It may seem counterproductive to recover while adding miles, but as long as I keep most runs easy, it seems to work for me.

How long does it take you to recover from a marathon or 50K?
For me, it is three weeks or a month.  I like active recoveries the best.  If I take entire weeks off of running, my legs feel tight and hurt more than if I kept running.  I also go nuts mentally.

Sand Dollar Shuffle 5 Miler

The week leading up to the race was beautiful and sunny and I had visions of running this race with the sun warming my skin as I ran.  That was until I woke up to clouds and not just fog, but impressively low visibility, even by local standards.  On the way, I picked up Matt from work.  He decided to take two hours of vacation time to run our club's only beach race.  This race last year, we both were sick.  I was just recovering from a sinus infection that wouldn't go away, he was running with yet to be diagnosed walking pneumonia.  This year, we were healthy but two weeks into recovery from Marquette.  Goals for both of us were to have a good workout and kick off our fall training seasons.

The race began on vocal command and half the field disappeared ahead of me into the fog.  I wasn't much in the mood for racing, so I kept myself to a controlled pace.  The tide was just going out and I bounded over broken sea shells, sand dollars, and large clumps of sea weed.  I love that Danny, the RD, brought this race back.  It is such a refreshing change to running on the roads.  About two miles in, I caught most of the group I usually run with, including Anna, a newer club regular that is just a few years older than me.  As I passed her, she was listening to music so loud that I could identify the song.  When she noticed me there, she picked up the pace.  I let her go on ahead.  At the flagged turnaround point, I caught up to her again. 

First Half: 19:25

Since this race is on the beach, it is virtually pancake flat.  Even though the sand slowed me a little, the flat terrain evened things out.  It was basically the same effort as a road race.  I watched the feet of other racers hit the ground and the sand changed color.  Water beneath the surface squeezed from the sand with each footfall.  Occasionally, waves drifted high enough that they moved inland quickly to avoid wet feet.  One of the waves eventually caught me and my feet dampened.  The fog was so thick that it left a film of moist drizzle on everything, so I was already soaking wet anyway. It felt refreshing, but weighed my feet a little bit.   

I caught Anna several other times and as she sped up to stay ahead, I usually let her, but playing this game was getting annoying.  I debated tucking in behind her and staying there until the end and then coming out of nowhere and beating her at the finish line.  The only thing that stopped me was how much she slowed just before I caught her each time, like she'd let anyone else pass except me.  With half a mile to go, she challenged me one last time and it was too late for me and I was running out of gas.  I didn't want to push that much to try and beat her.  I saw her drift to the soft sand for the finish line.  When I approached, I was stopped and diverted to a different spot to finish back on the firm sand.  Oops.  That added a solid 5 seconds to my time.  Matt later said it was only the two of us that made that mistake. 

Second Half: 19:01

It was a beautiful, drenching foggy day.  I enjoyed having someone to push me a little the second half, resulting in a 23 second negative split.  If she weren't there, I'd have run much slower.  It was enough to establish a baseline for the fall and get me back into the racing and training mindset.  Now it's back to work for CIM. 

38:25
7:45/mi. **
First place in my age group.
5/29 women
14/56 overall

After Matt's race last year with undiagnosed pneumonia, he had a fantastic day and took almost three minutes from last year's time:

30:30
6:09/mi**
2nd in his age group.
3/56 overall

** Garmin gave me 4.95 mi. so that's what the pace is based off of.  Since this is a beach race, it can never be completely accurate as the tide goes out during the race.  It was actually .25 mi longer than it was last year, but my pace was improved for the total distance, so I'm happy with that.  

All photos: Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.