Rogue River Half Marathon Race Report

Sunshine floods the room as Matt pulls back the shades. I poke my head out from under the covers, snarl, and then retreat back into the cozy cocoon of puffiness. I'm not in the mood for racing and find myself asking, "Whose idea was this anyways?" Of course, it was mine. Oops, hehe.

Even though I spend the majority of my training focusing on marathons, my favorite distance is the half marathon. I remind myself of this as Matt and I take off on our warmup jog. Since this race falls at the midpoint in my Boston Marathon training and run without a taper, it would likely produce something shy of a PR, so I decide to go out at marathon pace (7:49) for the uphill first half and then see what I have left for the second.

I tuck into the starting crowd next to man who recognizes my club jersey. Some two hundred miles from home and here I am running with a neighbor. We dash across a bridge spanning the Rogue River and immediately pour onto the Greenway Trail. Since I've run a lot on this trail in the past, I know the first mile feels like a roller coaster. Twist, turn, up, down,so I focus on remaining relaxed and ignore the ebbs and flows of the pace of the nearby runners. The first several miles pass in a blur. They feel strong and calculated, my feet pounding out a consistent cadence as I focus on running all the tangents. As I glance at my mile splits, I decide to dump my conservative pace strategy and see where the day takes me.

Mile 1: 7:35
Mile 2: 7:35
Mile 3: 7:35

The trail swoops through Valley of the Rogue State Park and passes my favorite yurt. When Matt and I visit Oregon for a change of scenery during marathon training, we always come here and run on the same route the course follows.

Mile 3, taken last April.

Mile 4: 7:35
Mile 5: 7:46 (double-fistin' water stop)

The aid station volunteer recognizes my jersey and calls it out to me. I plan on racing Boston in my running club's jersey, so I decided this chillier race would be a good test of my outfit. No complaints and I think I like having something written on my shirt for others to see.

I notice my energies beginning to wane and a blurry quality take over my vision. I can't tell if it's because I'm not used to running in such bright sunshine and my contacts are starting to dry out or if I'm headed for a bonk.

Mile 6: 7:37

I squint into the sunshine as the leaders pass by making their return trip, recognizing the university logo on the first place male's shirt. "Go Huskies!" I call out. I'd later learn that this guy was one of my brother's cross country teammates at Michigan Tech. Small world, right? I high five Matt as he runs by in fifth place. I begin counting girls and realize I'm currently in 11th place myself.

Just before the halfway turnaround is an aid station serving the most delicious liquids ever to hit my lips. I grab one cup in each hand the first time through and again a couple minutes later. Now running into the wind, refreshed, and on a gentle downhill, I accelerate and try to close the gap between myself and those ahead.

Mile 7: 7:52 (double fistin' water stop times two! yum!)
Mile 8: 7:35

Mile 8, taken during a visit last month.

Through a particularly breezy section, I spot a very tall man up ahead. I close the gap, promising myself that we can go his pace and let him lead while I draft off of him. I stay with him for nearly a mile, letting him do all the work. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hand the mental reins over to someone else for a moment. Together we pass the 10th place girl. I finally pull up alongside him and we chat a few moments. I thank him for his steady pace and offer to take the lead and let him cruise along behind me. He stays with me for a bit and then falls off behind. I'm sad to see him go, buddies are always more fun.

Mile 9: 7:39 

I glance down at my watch as I hit my tenth mile split and realize that my overall pace is just seconds slower than my PR. Realizing that this race is turning into a pleasant surprise, I approach the final five kilometers with renewed energy. Could I break 1:40?

Mile 10, taken in September.

Mile 10: 7:32
Mile 11: 7:30

Noticing the man ahead of me is keeping a steady pace, I try to close the gap just so I'll have someone to run with me. I finally catch him just before the final aid station. We chat a few moments as we walk, sipping our cups of water together and then set off. Realizing that he's fading, he offers a few encouraging words as I pull ahead. "I'll run behind you just so I can admire your perfect form." Choosing to take this as a compliment rather than a pickup line, I think about maintaining strong form for the remaining bit of the race.

Mile 12: 7:48 (mmm...more water!)

I knew the final mile would be the most difficult with its short, yet steep hills. The constant braking and accelerating prove the greatest challenge yet and I focus on a steady effort rather than pace.

Soon I can see the bridge into Rogue River and I launch into a kick. I climb the small hill toward the finish line and for the first time in a few miles, am thrown into full sunshine. It warms my skin and a huge grin erupts onto my face. What a gorgeous day, I'm so glad I got out of bed, I think to myself.

Mile 13: 7:50
Mile 13 to finish: 0:42 (6:26/mi)

I notice the clock as I make my final approach to the finish chute. I cross the line three minutes faster than anticipated and clock my second fastest half marathon time ever.

1:40:30
7:39/mi.
10th lady, 3rd in my age group

A flood of endorphins rush through my head as I notice my racing buddies cross the line just behind me. We hug and thank each other for the help. When I chose this race, I was curious to experience the Medford-based RRCA club. I was not disappointed. Their club is every bit as warm and welcoming as my local one. The more I visit the Medford area, the higher it climbs on the list of possible relocations.

Matt worked his way to a 4th place finish with a time of 1:21:49.

Perhaps the best part of an already perfect morning was the fact that we could share it with Matt's brother (Craig) and his girlfriend (Susan). They ran the 5K and Susan paced Craig to his very first 5K finish. They enjoyed the break from winter but both agreed that Chicago running didn't prepare them for the hills we have here. hehe. :)

Then we rushed back to town to get Zoey to the vet on time. More on that later.

A Trinity Alps Valentine

Soft morning light pours in through the canopy overhead. I poke my head out of the tent to assess the day as if by doing so it would decide whether or not to get up at all. Normally, I am excited to start the day, but the two mile hike in and a night spent sleeping on the ground left my back was a twisted mess of pain. Writhing in pain inside my sleeping bag, I force myself to move around in the hopes that the tension will release.

Having evening tea the previous night.

After a lot of moaning and grunting, I emerge from the tent into the rapidly warming day. Matt greets me in his morning person voice, "Happy Valentine's Day!" he says with a smile. I try my best to hide my snarling behind a smile of my own. We split a bag of scrambled eggs and bacon while exchanging Valentine's Day cards. My card is silly, his is sappy and articulates the affection for which he can rarely find the words.

In addition to our eggs, we split a small box of chocolates with a kitten on the cover. My thoughts drift to Zoey. All that expensive blood testing revealed normal findings. We still don't know what's wrong with her. After the day at the vet, I made a frantic trip to the pet store and bought a smorgasbord of different foods for her to try, hoping that we would stumble upon something she liked enough to gorge herself on and magically gain the weight back. The vet thinks it might be IBS or pancreatitis, but at this point I think he's guessing right along with us. I say a little prayer for her in my head, hope she's being a good little eater for her Uncle Leroy, and then try to push my worry aside.

Soon we're packed up and ready to continue on up the canyon. I fight through small clusters of mosquitoes as I climb higher, cursing their very presence. WTF global warming? Mosquitoes in February? It isn't until we're well above 6,000 ft. elevation that there's any sign of snow. Snow melt streams run down the trail and I splash along in my hiking boots, happy that I sacrificed the comfort of my usual trail running shoes for my sturdier, yet less comfortable, Gore-tex boots.

By 6,500 ft. the trail turns to snow and I fumble around trying to stay upright as I strap on my Kahtoolas. When I finally look up, jagged granite peaks encased in blinding bright snow tower overhead. Compared to last year where nary a flake was found at this elevation, snow levels are still well below normal. Taking tentative steps atop a thinning crust, we set off breaking trail up to Bee Tree Gap. For every five steps Matt takes, he ends up sinking three feet into soft snow beneath the crust. In areas of full morning sunshine, it's every other step. The Are We Even Moving? pace is exhausting and we trade the lead back and forth to rest.

 Even though progress is slow and exhausting, I can't think of a better way to spend Valentine's Day. While other women are wooed with flowers, jewelry, and expensive candlelit dinners, my idea is more akin headlamp-lit freeze-dried mac and cheese and pretty snowy mountains. Matt, my Valentine, appears to agree because that love drunk smile hasn't left his face all weekend.

Mt Shasta in the distance.

We arrive at the saddle and peer down the other side. Inside this high meadow lies a small forest of trees and a creek. Jagged peaks frame the edges of this alpine valley. We scout for a good tent site and find one overlooking the rushing creek. After setting up camp, we decide to continue on, a renewed spring in our step on the less arduous terrain and without large packs weighing us down.

Can you spot our tent?

We follow a set of fresh bear prints to the top of the ridge and peer over the edge at Deer Lake. Thinking back to our October run out here, we try to spot the trail. Even then, I remember it barely there and haphazardly skirting the edge of the 45 degree slope. Matt and I realize at the same moment that the bear prints plunge directly over the side and decide we've gone far enough for the day.

Why aren't you sleeping, Mr. Bear?

We spent some time admiring the new vantage point and spot an area of lower elevation completely devoid of snow. No matter how long we live here, we're always surprised by the difference elevation makes in such a small geographic area. We're still used to the idea that all we can see is snowy or it's not, there is no halfway.

Watching the sun set from a perch above our campsite, I think about how lucky we are to have found each other. After a full decade of Valentine's Days together, our love and understanding for the other continues to grow. Daylight fades away and we retreat to our sleeping bags. We spend several hours talking before we drift off to sleep.

The next morning, I am surprised to wake up in a dry sleeping bag. Without ever having tested my sleeping pad in the snow before, let alone four feet of it, I didn't know what to expect. Thermarest NeoAir, you are still the best birthday present I've ever received.

We retrace our steps to realize that two other couples have followed us up the canyon. We greet both on our return trip and one thanks us for doing all the work of navigating and breaking the trail. The snow crust is still firm when we make our descent. We spend the morning discovering spots where we got stuck in the snow. It's easy to laugh when you're safely atop the three feet of snow rather than post-holing through it.

Once below snow levels, my mind starts questioning. Did we really sleep on the snow? The forest is green and warm and without a hint of the mountains above. It's funny how the mind works. This wasn't a dream? The soreness in my legs suggests it wasn't, that's for sure. 

Thank you Long Canyon for being our Valentine!

A Run with Karen

Since Matt and I share a car, sometimes it takes a little creativity to share. Today, my run’s mission was to deliver his running clothes and grab the car. He’ll then run home from work later. Here’s a tour of today’s six mile run:

I just happened to meet up with another club runner out for his midday run right at the beginning of my own run. I loved the company, conversation, and the fact that his pace was just the perfect thing for me. I still don’t know how to ask for a photo without being a total creeper, so you’ll have to believe that I didn’t run with an imaginary friend. His name is Mark, he’s in his 50s and is a pediatrician. I swear he’s real. Instead, may I offer a picture of my new shoes as a substitute? They’re purple and perdy. This was their first run.

This is my favorite water fountain. I swear it took at least a year of running past it to realize that it was actually there.

 Here’s a picture of my favorite house in town. I’m hoping to save my pennies for long enough to be able to afford a house with a watch tower. In my opinion, that’s when you know you’ve arrived.

Then my favorite view. This bridge is terrifying to run across (highway speed, shoulder that is generous but lacks any formal divider, etc), but it is gorgeous in all directions, especially on a sunny day.

My favorite sign on the run. This one happens to be in Matt’s office. Clearly the boys have their priorities straight.

 And finally, a couple of my kitties, sunning themselves on the sidewalk. I spotted 11 in all.

What are some of the best, ordinary things about your running routes?

I Wish...

I wish I could be one of those people who celebrates weight loss instead of fearing it. Once I start hovering below 120, I get worried as this was the first sign of trouble when the news wasn’t good.

I wish I could be one of those people who looks at the 10% chance of a secondary cancer and thinks, “whew, that’s not going to happen to me”.

I wish I could just chalk my mystery bruises up to forgetfulness and not leukemia.

Sometimes I just wish I could have my innocence back. Being the survivor of a very rare cancer that only has a hundred new diagnoses each year, I know not to trust odds. I thought that going into remission and then being cured would help diminish this feeling, but I’m only now beginning to realize that this fear is likely a permanent fixture in my head.

Last Week: February 1-7

Sunday: Run 5 mi, including Super Bowl 5K
I imagine this is what running inside of a snow globe feels like.

Monday: Run 5.5 mi, about a foot of fresh snow. 

Since our Monday flight home wasn’t rebooked until Tuesday we got to play in a whole lot of fresh snow. No complaining here!! :)

The miles were slow on unplowed roads and a little quicker at the plowed nearby business park we found about halfway through our run, but everything felt good. The pulled muscle in my hip was achy and slowed me down a little at first but was fine once I warmed up.
It appears Garmin Connect’s weather feature had a glitch, as there were no question marks falling from the sky.

Tuesday: Run 4.75 mi, 42:32, 8:58/mi.
The run was rushed. We had planned a leisurely 10 mile run that morning, but woke up to an email from the in-laws....an hour before they were due to arrive. They were coming into town to meet us for lunch, so we circled the neighborhood until we spotted them drive in. Then we jetted off back home and narrowly missed another delay (probably overnight) in Chicago. Whew.

Wednesday: Run 7 mi. and 5 mi. both untimed. 2 and 13 kitties spotted.
The first few days back home after a major change of scenery are always surreal. Running in shorts and with warm, moist air, it was the perfect welcome home run.

Thursday: Run 6 mi, 46:56, 7:49/mi. 4 kitties.
Goal: 5@ 7:49/mi.
Actual: 5@7:41/mi.

This run was a little quick, but it felt great despite tough conditions. Since I ran into the wind and downpour for the first half, I let myself cruise a little bit faster. Then, to my surprise, I was able to hold it on the return trip too! It was one of those, "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for" days.

Friday: Run 11 mi, 1:39:20, 9:03/mi. 15 kitties.

What started out as a dry run quickly turned wet as another front passed. While we were walking our cool down lap, I noticed bird poop on my glove. Whew! Since my hand and my head are very near to each other when viewed from the sky, I’m going to consider this a win. I’m soooo lucky there was no bird poop on my head or arm.

It was really tough to find kitties. By mile seven, I had only seen my third one, but Matt and I dug deep and got it done. Our neighborhood kitties came through once again and saved the day.

Here's one of my rainy day projects.

And another! :)

Saturday: Run 18 mi, 2:36:35, 8:42/mi. 27 kitties.

Obviously I don't use auto-lap. haha, but at least it gives a pretty good idea of how I paced myself.

By some miracle, our long run day was dry and 65 degrees. The windy day (it picked up during our run to about 30mph) made for a few extra challenges, but I had a great time. Matt and Rachel both joined me. I've always had a tough time finding running buddies for my long run, but Rachel, who just happens to live in our neighborhood, fits perfectly with our training style and is quickly becoming my favorite running buddy (sorry Matt). My back was sore for the last few miles. Since it was Rachel's longest run ever, we celebrated afterward with frozen yogurt loaded with way too much fruit and candy.

TOTALS:
Miles: 62.25
Kitties: 61


Notes: In an attempt to make up miles missed earlier in the week, I skipped the rest day and added some more miles later. Due to my stellar math skills, I overshot my total by two miles. Oops. This week felt strong. My neck and hip ached through the earlier part of the week, but once I was running on firm ground and foam rolling a lot, issues began to subside.

One of my goals this year is to keep a running count of my kitty sightings. January had 149. Just one week into February and it looks like I'll be significantly increasing my number for the month.

Miss Zoey

As I walked into the veterinarian office this afternoon, one of the possible endings to Zoey's trouble stared back at me. An elderly woman stood at the counter, tissues in both hands, sobbing while the pen shook in her hand as she signed off on her bill. Her whole family gathered with her to say goodbye to her dog, in part because he was so large that they needed three full grown men to carry him into the exam room. I'd later see those very same tough guys rush out with their heads tucked down, a trail of sobbing noises following them. I sat there trying not to watch as the vet techs expressed their sympathies and did all they could to comfort the family. I did everything in my power to not thing about it as I stuffed my hand in Zoey's carrier, stroking her visibly terrified body. She hates the vet. I do too.

Zoey the day we adopted her in 2007. Edmond, Oklahoma.

For the last six months, Zoey has become increasingly picky about her food and lost several pounds. On a formerly twelve pound cat, three pounds is a lot. It began with her vomiting up a litle clear liquid every day. Then she became reluctant to eat the dry kibble she's been eating for years. When that happened in September, we took her to the vet and ran the most inexpensive and likely tests first: hypothiroidism, worms, and other parasites. We also switched her food. She loved the decadence of the canned food and for a couple months, it seemed to be working. The vomiting stopped and all that came out of her mouth was the occasional hairball. She maintained her weight at a slender ten pounds and ate whenever I fed her. Last week, when we returned home from Lansing, things had changed. She still runs in when I call her for dinner, but instead of gobbling it down, she sits there and sniffs, stares at the bowl, and walks away. I've tried priming her appetite with treats and bits of chicken. Sometimes it works, others it doesn't. I'm not sure I can do anything else to coax her to eat. Thankfully she IS still eating, but not enough to keep her weight from slipping. What is unusual is that she's even more active now than she was a year ago.

Zoey's first moose. Fairbanks, Alaska.

The vet decided it was time to complete the more expensive battery of tests including a CBC, urinalysis, and tests for feline leukemia and FIV as we search for answers. The leukemia and FIV test came back while we were still in the office--another negative result--the remainder should arrive on Monday. Until then, I'm snuggling my kitty extra hard and trying not to worry.

Snoozing by the fire last night.

Fingers crossed.

Super Bowl 5K Race Report

Snow blew across the roadway as we drove to Nick's house. He squeezed himself between the bundled up versions of me and Kim in the back seat. Before he said hello, he announced with a concerned look on his face, "I guess we should skip our donut stop so we get there on time." My friends obviously have their priorities straight. Reluctantly, we all agreed and it was a good thing we did because the drive took half an hour more than usual with the snow.

Matt and I took off into the sideways snow for our warmup. All hopes of running for a decent time had long been extinguished. In some ways, I prefer to run for place, it always gets me to push a little bit harder when conditions get tough. Trying to look out for oncoming traffic while icy daggers assaulted my eyes proved to be fruitless. With little under a mile warmup, we rejoined our friends in the cozy comfort of a middle school gymnasium opened especially for racers.

Soon all of us were gathered at the door nearest the start line. In a game of "you go first! no you!", someone was eventually shoved outside and the rest of us reluctantly followed. Twenty degrees and a moderate breeze pushed the windchill to near zero. My stylish snowflake tights were perfect for the powdery frolic and I was glad to have a buff to warm the air as it entered my lungs.

As we took off onto the roadway, runners ahead flailed in the snow attempting to gain traction. I trotted along without looking at my watch. Go as hard as you can with out falling down, I coached myself. After a mile of headwind, the course meandered through a subdivision and provided a cozy break from the wind. I settled into a comfortably hard effort and made a game of weaving around looking for the best footing. Just as I thought I had found it, the packed snow broke free beneath my feet.

Mile 1: 8:10

Enthusiastic volunteers cheered wildly at all of the turns, bundled up so tightly that their voices were muffled like Charlie Brown's teacher. Now with the wind tucked comfortably behind me, I was able to focus on enjoying the weather and not worry about the horizontal snow gouging my eyeballs out. Normally, I don't enjoy courses with a lot of turns on them, but anything that gives me a break from the wind is great. This course was perfect for a winter 5K in marginal conditions.

With the extreme lack of winter snow the West Coast has been experiencing, I thought about how lucky I was to get a dose of winter while I was in Michigan. In years past, we've come searching for winter in Michigan and nary a flake has been found (this is why we've done Alaska for the last three years, snow is almost a sure thing there!). Snow began to collect on my eyelashes and eyebrows. This was perfect, like running in a snow globe!

Mile 2: 8:27 (perhaps a bit too much snow gawking? hehe)

Near the end of the second mile, I noticed my focus slipping. Oops, this was a race. I dialed in on people ahead of me. My form strong and deliberate, I worked on closing the gap. One girl down, two guys. Once we made a turn onto the main road, I recognized where we were. Through the haze of rapidly falling snow, I could spot the middle school and finish line. I zeroed in on two more runners up ahead and caught one just as I made the final turn to the finish line. I picked up the pace, expecting her to sprint with me, but she  fell behind.

 

Someone shouted, "She's right behind you! Pick it up!" Afraid she was gaining on me, I looked over my shoulder, I slipped in the snow, felt a painful tug on the front of my hip and almost crashed. Just finish, don't worry about her, I thought.

Mile 3 to finish: 8:49 (7:56/mi)

I think this is one of my all-time favorite finish shots.

25:27
8:12/mi.
4th female, 1st F30-34

The girl behind me asked me at the finish line, "Were you there the whole time?" Maybe I'm just stealthy, she didn't even see me coming. While I waited for Nick, Joel, and Kim to cross the finish line, I chatted with Beth, the super fast blogger who won the ladies' race. I'm always a little starstruck when I see my favorite bloggers in person, but I loved how approachable she was. Later that day, I spotted her running several times past my friend's house (turns out, they live in the same neighborhood). There I was, mowing through a bag of chips while watching the Kitty Bowl and she's out there getting extra miles in almost a foot of new snow. Hard-core-runner.

Then our friends filtered through. Joel, who I didn’t even know owned running pants because he never wears them, bundled up for the day; Nick wondered why we would ever do this and call it fun; and Kim did a few cartwheels as she crossed the finish line. I hope they all had as much fun as I did!

Matt took third overall and finished in 19:29, winning his age group. His frosty beard was pretty spectacular too.

Winter Darkness

This winter has been especially hard on me. While lacking winter in the traditional sense, several strings of rainy days has left my creativity levels low. I find myself taking solace in time on the couch rather than being my usual adventurous self. Seasonal depression has always been a struggle for me and was the only reason that Matt and I ultimately decided to leave Alaska. I thought the worst was behind me when we left, and maybe it is, but lately mere daily tasks have had the power to completely overwhelm me. Silence on this blog used to mean I was spending my time frolicking in the mountains rather than sitting at a computer, but for most of the last couple of months, it has been because my daily runs felt too insignificant to share in any great detail.

Reluctant to pack my bag, I had trouble getting excited about a trip away. I wanted to snuggle with my kitty and stay at home. It wasn't until the plane touched down in Green Bay that I felt the slightest bit of excitement. While waiting at the airport for my bag to appear, I spotted my sister walking into the terminal. I watched as she looked around and noticed the moment she saw me, the moment when a huge grin spread across her face. My sister embraced me in one of her perfect hugs and I felt a little bit of that melancholy slip away.

The following days were filled with beautiful allergy-free running, a visit with Mom and Dad, an indoor water park, and just some quality time reconnecting with my favorite sister. Based on the talks we've had in the last few years, I just know that once she gets her degree, she's going to be one heck of a psychologist.

A few days later, Matt and I headed off to Lansing for my roommate's wedding. Surrounded by nearly all of our college friends, we spent the evening watching Amy and James gaze into the other's eyes through a blur of classy wine, champagne, and flashing DJ lights.

The next day, we ran a 5K together, pushed Nick's car out of a snowbank, and watched as the weather deteriorated enough by a fresh foot of snow to leave us stranded in Lansing for another two days.

To us, that meant some running in the snow and Matt getting out of two midnight shifts, so we weren't at all disappointed to delay our return home.

The extra helpings of sunshine, some of my favorite people, and a dramatic change of scenery helped pull me out of my winter slump. I hope the effects of this trip are not temporary, but as my body feels much more recovered and refreshed, I'm hoping my head will soon follow suit.