Fall Oregon Road Trip

Oh, Oregon. Almost a week has gone by since returning home and I'm still not sure what to say about you. Every time I visit, I fall in love a little bit more with your diversity, the volcanic wonder that is the Cascade Range, and your vast open lands just begging to be explored. While I drive between highlights, Matt and I are already planning future trips to visit you and face constant indecision when it comes to whether or not you may become our forever home.

Columbia River Gorge, Washington side.

Ever since moving back to the Lower 48, Matt and I have taken a trip somewhere pretty at the end of September. It coincidentally happens to fall around my birthday, but that has more to do with the fact that we seem to find ourselves near a larger airport that time of year and it's always cheaper to fly.

I sort of rock at making rest stop quesadillas.

In the past, we've made it to the Grand Canyon, Zion, and Bryce National Parks and to Santa Fe. Since we're not much for traipsing around in the wilderness during the heat of the summer, September is the perfect time for us to explore. Couple that with fewer travelers and the trip can become less expensive and more impulsive since we don't have to book much in advance. Our original plan was to visit the Grand Tetons, but airfare prices got away from us so we decided to explore what was in our (relative) backyard.

Here's a map of our route. In general, we worked in a clockwise loop.

Over the next few days, I hope to sift through the nearly 1,000 photos I took and write a few posts about the highlights. I'm still not sure what to say about it all, but I had a fantastic time and look forward to sharing our adventures. :)

The Rogue Half Marathon Race Report

Tissue in one hand, bottle of water in the other, I shuffled into the Medford Comfort Inn. I sniffled, coughed, and then rang the bell. The desk attendant, also named Karen, came to my aid. With a very congested hum in my voice, I asked if I could please, please, pretty please, check in early. It was only about 1:00pm and since the previous night's checkout time was noon, I knew chances were slim of getting into our room but I really needed a nap. Karen tapped away at the computer, performed magic that people at this specific hotel seem to do on the regular, and soon I found myself melting into the pillows atop my luxurious king sized bed. This is exactly how one should feel the day before a race, right?

Saturday morning at Lake Selmac

----

Race morning dawns and I realize that for the first time this week, I haven't been awakened every hour or two feeling like I'm suffocating beneath my own sinus drainage. I actually feel rested. I make the last-minute decision to go for my original race goal and see what happens, arguing that if I don't give it my best shot, I'll be angry at myself later.

(The mile markers for this race were waaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy off----they came every 0.95 mile after the first few until the distance between mile 13 and the finish was almost 0.5 mile long--- so these are my Garmin splits.)

Mile 1: 7:16

The first mile of this race has a pretty big downhill in it, so I just let my legs run this one. Once the downhill runs out, I usually find the right pace. This race was no exception.


Mile 2: 7:32
Mile 3: 7:33

The pack thins and I finally find my running buddy for the day. Her form is strong, fluid, and honestly, I'm a little mesmerized by the thick brown braid that waves back and forth with each stride. We chat a few moments glad to have someone with whom to share the day. I always find it incredibly motivating to have a race buddy. Without one, I tend to get lazy and fall apart.


Mile 4: 7:33
Mile 5: 7:35

By now, I can tell that I'm not going to make it the whole way at this pace. I decide to keep with my buddy and if she slows down, I will too. We seem to have a similar racing approach: slow on the uphills, recover on the downhills, walk through the aid stations and leave with a cup of something in each hand. Our slowdown is even happening at the same rate. I see her form begin to deteriorate and I'm sure I'm a big mess right now too.


Mile 6: 7:44
Mile 7: 7:45
Mile 8: 7:45

If I'm having a good day, this is where I begin dropping people. I catch up and pass them one by one, reeling them in as if we're tied together by an actual line. Today I'm being reeled in. One person at a time overtakes me and I'm powerless to keep up. Here's where I see my buddy disappear around a corner ahead of me and I don't see her again until the finish line. Even though I'm recovering well from my cold, it doesn't make up for the week of horrible rest and recovery I have been doing. I debate whether or not to jog it in at an easy pace. It is my birthday after all. Do I want to spend my birthday run feeling miserable?


Mile 9: 7:46
Mile 10: 7:50

There's an aid station at mile 10 as the course makes a 360 degree corkscrew climb up  to the same level as the interstate. I grab my two cups of water and am refreshed by the small amount of relief the cold water provides my sinuses. It feels so good. Instead, my mind shifts its focus to how dead my arms and legs are.

I reach the Table of Temptation just before the 12th mile begins. Serving only beer, wine, and donuts, volunteers spend their morning catcalling runners, trying to tempt them into indulging in their spoils. A man pulls up next to me offering a cup of beer. I have never stopped at this station before, but today I pull to the side of the trail and drink, my first beer during a race. If there's one day to imbibe during a race, it's on your birthday, right? It goes down more smoothly than expected. In between sips, I mention to him that it's my birthday.

Mile 11: 8:15

The volunteers erupt into a chorus of Happy Birthday while that same volunteer asks if I need a birthday tequila shot. Apparently, this is not on the normal menu, but they made a special exception to offer me the hard stuff. I politely decline as I begin running again, away from the aid station. A man on a bicycle rides alongside me, holding a box of donut holes in his hand. "Want one??? They're delicious! You could take one now, or I could hold it just out of you're reach and tempt you into running faster?" I grab the donut from his hand, stop again and for a moment, consider going for another beer just to wash it down.  These guys totally made my day.

Mile 12: 8:19

I finally take off almost two minutes later and realize there's finally a bit of a pep in my step. I begin looking for Matt as I dash to the finish line. He pulls up next to me, unsure what to say. He's always a little bummed for me when he is waiting at the finish line and sees my goal time tick by with me nowhere in sight. In between little beer burps, I tell him about my last stop. He smiles and sounds a little relieved to hear that I'm still having a good time. He drops to a walk as I sprint for the finish line.

Mile 13: 7:48
Mile 13 to Finish: 7:32 pace

1:41:24
7:44/mi.

After cheering on a few of our local friends who made the trip to this race, we packed up and headed out. It was time for a birthday Blizzard. This race was the perfect balance between running hard and challenging myself and enjoying the day, so all in all, it was a nice birthday run. :)

Matt was a bit off of his goal time today too, but still ran very well. He finished in 1:19:58 and took 8th place.

Taper Week and Race Goals

Since I haven't been sharing much about training for Sunday's half marathon, I thought it would be fun to share a little bit about that and my goals for race morning.

Headwaters run with the ladies.

Group selfie. Say CHEEEEESE!

Everything in training went perfectly. I still can't believe it! In just six short weeks, I went from being absolutely terrified of my goal pace in the first week to having to hold myself back a little in the final pace run. Training peaked with 50 miles, including these two speed workouts and a bunch of hilly trail miles.

3x1 (Goal: 6:49-:55), added 220yd repeats to work on form.

5 miles (Goal 7:25/mi.)

Every run flowed into the next and although I missed the dull ache of higher mileage, I felt good, strong, and confident.

Until Tuesday. I ran my final pace run and struggled much more than I should have for just two miles. That night, I went to bed with a sore throat. I woke up Wednesday morning trying to figure out if I had a full-blown cold or if the sudden shift in weather caused an allergy flareup. Either way, it's been awful.

Quick run while the Subaru got her first oil change.

In an effort to speed my recovery, I decided not to take cold medicine like I typically would. Sure, I'm suffering more, but it's a lot easier to get in some real rest when even a trip to the fridge is too much effort.  I spent all day Wednesday on the couch with Netflix and my knitting. I don't think I've been quite as dedicated to bonding with my couch cushions since chemotherapy.

It was my job to drink massive amounts of tea and water, nap, and shamelessly plow through twenty episodes of One Tree Hill, all in the name of recovery, of course. Thursday was more of the same. I have high hopes for Friday, too.

Every night this week, Matt and I have been relaxing with Emergen-C cocktails, indulging in aromatherapy foot soaks, and eating enough curry to burn the sickness right out of me.

My BFF this week.

I was feeling a lot better on Thursday, so I decided to try for a short run. Three miles at an easy pace. Matt did sprints, I focused on creating the perfect snot rocket. My pace matched my effort level, which was a pleasant surprise. My legs were fresh and springy. I wouldn't say the run felt good, but it didn't suck either.

As for the race, I'm not sure what is going to happen. I know I trained well. Even with a cold, I think I'm more prepared than I have been in the past.

Two years ago, I was recovering from salmonella and race day was literally the first day I didn't have to make a frantic search for the perfect bush. I ran a 3 minute PR and finished in 1:40:46.

Last year was a bit soon after my first BQ and I hadn't done anything but easy stuff. Ran my current PR of 1:39:04.

This year, I've got a cold. BUT this year's race is on my birthday. There has to be some magical juju associated with that, right?

Race goals:

1. HAPPY Birthday to me! Run at whatever pace is necessary to be challenged, yet have fun.

2. PR! I'm still holding out hope that my body will be willing come Sunday. For me, this means anything faster than 1:39:04. The paces I've been using for training are for a 7:25/mi, 1:37:25.

Blue Lake 5K Race Report

Fog hangs over the river valley as an orange sun rises over the mountains in the east. Once again, I find myself toeing another starting line I feel ill-prepared to tackle. No matter how confident and strong my track workouts are, those darn five kilometer races feel about as foreign to me as impulsively deciding to race a triathlon with my cruiser bike and water wings. Someday, I tell myself, Someday, we'll actually devote a little time to figuring out how to race these shorter distances. 

One more time, I pin on bib number 992, hoping that this effort will be successful enough to actually have someone at the finish line tear the tag off of it. Since my club uses leftover bib numbers from larger races for these smaller events, I'm able to use the same number as last time as long as I'm still the same age. As my final race at thirty years old, this is also my last chance to use this bib number.

My heart rate skyrockets as I head out for my warmup miles with Rachel and Matt. After the DNF last time, I make sure the warmup is extra long and includes enough fast strides to properly warm up my sensitive lungs. After a week of battling a mysterious stomach bug that made all my workouts feel awful, I'm happy to notice that it's not giving me problems yet. Hopefully it will stay that way. When we make a loop back to the car to drop off our extra layers, I realize that I'm sweating heavily, a sign that my body understands I'm about to beat the crap out of it. Let's do this Karen, it replies.

Brett takes a few moments to explain the out-of-bounds areas on this certified course. This is just one of three 5K races each year that holds a professional certification. Others may be close, but not always 100% accurate. He gives a nod to Ken, the man responsible for certifying it, who happens to be tucked away in the pack.

I'm pretty sure I wore this same frown the whole time. I just love 5Ks.

I take off at a sprint and quietly try to find my groove. The race begins on an uphill and my effort level skyrockets in an instant. Get used to it, Karen, we're going to keep it this high the whole way, I coach myself. The pack soon thins as we all find our place within our respective fields.

Mile 1: 7:02

My legs instinctively brake as I rocket down a short, but steep hill. Suddenly, I feel my rhythm break apart. I'm slowing. I struggle to regain the quick turnover, but it never comes. Remaining as calm as one can when they feel like their heart is going to explode, I reach the turnaround point and the 5K and 10K courses part ways. Suddenly, half of my buddies drop off and I'm left with just my running buddy Rachel and tiny, 11 year old West ahead of me. I'm always struggling to find that elusive strong second mile and it helps a little bit to hear the cheers of club friends calling out my name as we pass each other. My breathing is a little louder than I'd like, my legs appropriately heavy for this pace, and most importantly, there's no peep from my angry GI system.

Mile 2: 7:19

The course makes several turns. Every block we're going a different direction, the result of trying to squeeze a 5K race into a town that is barely half a mile wide in any direction. At every turn, I am surprised I can still see both Rachel and West ahead of me and I try to reel them in, realizing that Rachel is leading the ladies' race and maybe if I dig deep enough, I can catch her. Just as that thought passes through my mind and my pace quickens, it fades away.

I make the final turn and hear Tara call out my name from her position as course monitor. I brace myself for one very ugly uphill finish sprint. Since this race was in place of a workout, I made myself three minor goals: 1. Course PR, 2. Push hard and don't look at my watch, and 3. Kick so hard by the finish that Yoon catches a really ugly finish shot of me.

Even before I reach the mile 3 cone, I fix my gaze on the finish line up ahead and force myself into an effort that can only be described as excruciating.

Mile 3: 7:18

With the finish line numbers now in sight, I'm a little disappointed to see that it's already passed into the twenty-second minute. For how much effort I thought I was putting forth, I thought I'd be a little faster than that. A little anger fuels the remainder of my finish kick and I put on my ugly face as I dash across the finish line, happy to have finally put an end to my misery.

Mile 3-finish: 0:42 (6:26/mi.)

22:35
7:09/mi.

I double over and steady myself before handing over my tear tag. Even though it wasn't a much faster pace than those 3, 4, 5, and 6 mile half marathon training runs, I managed to finish second female and accomplish all my race day goals in what is my fastest time this year. It's still almost a minute shy of my PR (21:42), but now I'm starting to wonder if that time was set on a short course.

Within a few minutes, my heart and lungs have recovered and I start questioning why I didn't run faster. When it comes to marathons and half marathons, the lingering fatigue and soreness are constant reminders that I pushed hard. Recovery comes so quickly in a 5K that always forget that I did race hard. 

Rachel and I join up with Brad and head out for a nice, slow cooldown. We backtrack on the race course, arriving just in time to see Matt zip on by. Chatting to ourselves and cheering on our friends as we cool down, we discover a new trail and dash off into the brush for a little bit before looping back to the finish line where I find Matt waiting.

A few friends mention a pancake breakfast at the town grange. Four dollar pancakes, coffee, and sausage? Count me in! We join a few new and old friends and hang out. Not a bad way to end my Sunday race morning in Blue Lake.

------------

Here's how Matt's race day went:

10pm-7am: Babysit forecast. Doze at desk. Drink tons of water.
7:30am: COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE!!!!
9:30am: start 10K.
9:45am:  5K/10K course split. “Huh, where is everybody?”
10:07am: win 10K.

37:46, a 5:53/mi.

Maybe I should start staying up all night before my races. Perhaps that's the key to a fast 5K or 10K.

All photos: Y. Kim, SRRC credit.

Zoey: Those Precious Moments

Zoey rests peacefully in a sunny spot on the floor in the living room as I emerge from a night's rest. I head into the kitchen to start the tea kettle. She follows me into the room and patiently waits for me to open the patio door to the backyard. I open the door and watch as she leaps with an energetic bound over the threshold and into the outside, her very favorite place in the whole world.

She makes a beeline to the catnip patch, lingers there for a few moments, and then searches for the coziest sunny spot. She'll eventually move to the shade, but for now, her immediate future will be spent rolling around on the warm patio.

I can tell she's slowing down. She no longer unrolls all my yarn balls. Her toys remain tucked away in the box. But when she's invited outside, everything changes. That youthful spark returns and for a fleeting moment, I forget all about her illness. These moments make me the happiest.

Her interest in exploring the yard has greatly diminished and I no longer have to worry about her jumping the fence into the neighbor's yard. I don't really have to supervise her anymore. That means she gets hours long catnaps in the fresh air without interruption. I glance out the window a few times an hour and find her cozied up on the came patio chair cushion as the last time I looked. I try not to think about it, but if this is how she ends up spending her final days, that is okay with me.

---

Yesterday, Zoey and I went to the vet for another round of lab work. The appointments are becoming less frequent now and it's mostly just a waiting game. I've come to detest visits to the vet as much as she has. Just as Zoey doesn't like being restrained and poked with needles, I don't like the pitying looks and platitudes the office staff send my way. They act as if the Grim Reaper follows me in the door whenever I visit.

It has taken a few months to adjust to the news that this disease will eventually take my sweet kitty away from me, but I'm trying to remain positive. I'm sad that Zoey's adventures will end here in California and that our little family unit will not be the same on our next move across the country. On the other hand, we all know our days are numbered. We could expire without a moments' notice. I'm learning to appreciate her prognosis as a gift. Every day, I'm reminded to love on my little kitty as if it were her last.

With the treatments she's on, the average life expectancy is two years, which means we have roughly eighteen months left.

Eighteen months of snuggles.
Eighteen months of fresh chicken and tuna treats.
Eighteen months of bending the rules when I see her sleeping on my coffee table.

Eighteen months of spoiling my darling kitty rotten.

The Caboose

My heart is pounding, my lungs are starved for oxygen, and I'm struggling to move my feet at all. I climb higher into the sky, through a dizzying kaleidoscope of redwood trees and sunshine yet I'm still falling behind. When it comes to group runs with the ladies, I'm often the fastest runner, but when I play with the boys, the game changes. I'm the weakest link, the caboose on our little runner train.

Today's game is all about staying close enough to see them without being totally left behind and I struggle to keep up during the first few miles. Eventually my slow and steady endurance base will leave me pulling back to stay with them, but for now, it is a grueling slog up some ridiculous mountain whose top is nowhere in sight.

Knowing that Matt was out of town for the week, Adam and Jeff graciously include me in their Labor Day weekend plans. They offered me two options: a Friday night hilly run to the brewery or a Saturday morning run in the state park. My reply was "BOTH!" As I scale what feels like the world's steepest redwood forest trail, I begin to realize what a foolish decision that is.

After almost forty minutes of nonstop climbing, we reach the top of the hill and the boundary between the community forest and private logging roads. We stop at several intersections, debating where to turn. This area is actively being logged and finally Jeff mentions that he's having trouble recognizing the route through all the bulldozer tracks and slash piled up alongside the road. The boys investigate some (still warm) logging equipment, whose keys are still inside, and we debate whether or not we should drive the remainder of our route to the brewery.

Eventually we pull out onto a country road and after a mile, I finally recognize where we are. Soft light illuminates the hills and farms as I we weave our way into the sleepy town of Blue Lake. We pull into the brewery just as the other half of our group heads in for a table. Although this isn't my typical idea of a good time, I would go again, just maybe count this as speed work and not run an intense fartlek run the day before. Daylight fades away as I enjoy the company, some funky jazz music, a hard cherry cider, and salmon burger.

8 miles, 1:23:42, 1,038 ft. gain
---

A new day dawns and we're out again. For what is the busiest holiday weekend of the summer, we arrive before the masses and snag a coveted parking spot inside the park. This time, our group has dwindled from six to three and I'm pleasantly surprised to hear the boys are just as sore and stiff as I am from yesterday's B double E double R U N.

We trade the lead back and forth while Jeff and Adam, both teachers in the college's math department, entertain me with nerdy math jokes. "There’s a fine line between a numerator and denominator, but only a fraction of the population realizes it." Har har.

Emerging from the forest to the beach, we drop down onto the car road leading to Fern Canyon. Several cars pass us, kicking up clouds of dust in their wake. We reach the parking area and waste no time pulling out our morning snacks and basking in the sunshine. Day hikers pour into the area, fresh as a daisy. It took us an hour to reach this point and we're appropriately sweaty and dirty. I've done this same route several times and I always feel a little bit like a burly forest creature when I encounter people in this particular place.

We duck back into the shade and make our way through Fern Canyon. This time of year, the bridges are in place and we follow the conga line of tourists up canyon. Jeff tells the story of his first visit. "I just got home from the Grand Canyon, you see, and friends took me on this great little hike, promising a picturesque canyon. When we got to the car at the end of our walk, they asked 'what did you think of the canyon?' Apparently, I missed it." Well it's no Grand Canyon, but the vertical canyon walls fifty feet high are covered from bottom to top in, you guessed it, ferns. Not a bad place to spend a Saturday.

Taking advantage of the extra people in the canyon, we ask one of them to take our photo. He goes into full on photo shoot mode and has us pose for several minutes, offering us many different shots from which to choose. Thanks dude! There were a ton of people in the canyon and I'm amused to watch them ooh and aah over this place I get to call home and visit whenever I want. We venture further upstream, then climb out on the trail that will lead us back to the car.

The gently descent allows for a really nice kick at the end of the run. All three of us pick up the pace and we fly between the giant redwoods before arriving back at the car. Jeff and Adam waste no time pulling the cooler out to a bench in the sunshine and breaking into their cold beverages and snacks. Even though they practically killed me the night before, I forgive it all and appreciate the company and slower pace of today's run. As is typical with the boys, they've packed enough food to feed a dozen hungry runners. They share their snacks of cheese, sausage, crackers and beer and I'm a happy girl. Take me for a run, feed me afterward, and I'll be your BFF.

12 miles,  2:30:06, 1,350 ft. gain

I guess it's not so bad being the caboose.

Farewell to Summer at Whiskeytown Lake

Oh Inland Summers, just as I warm up to you and your splendor, you fade away on me. It's become a game we play each year, as predictable as can be. Here's to one last toasty trip inland before winter settles into the mountains.

My morning run

Sunny mornings, long days up high.

Breakfast: Carrot pumpkin muffins and coffee.

Mountain peaks and alpine lakes.
Paddles and long shadows.

Oh yeah. PB&J, sunshine, and root beer.

Stroke. Stroke.
Swim. Sunscreen. Repeat.

Can every run end with a refreshing dip?

Fog returns to the coast. Drizzle and mold.
Inland, the smoke clears. Bikini naps in my hammock.

Breezed through two books in three days. That's some sort of record for me, I think.

I used to be sad about the gloomy coastal summers and felt like they were missing something, but they're beginning to grow on me. It's not missing anything, it's just different. Just as our snow-free winter offers controlled doses of gloriously white skiing and winter camping yet absolutely no driveway shoveling, coastal summers are cool enough to run whenever I want but have sunshine, sweltering dry heat, and glorious reservoir lakes not far inland.

Yooper hat? Shades? 20 layers of sunscreen? Check, check, and check! :)

It's like living in Choose Your Own Adventure climate book. Fog? Sun? Snow? Rain? There's a little bit of everything if you know where to look and keep an eye on the forecast.

"Live in northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft." I heard this song on the radio while driving home. Fitting, don't you think? California, you're growing on me. If that's wrong, I don't want to be right!

My own private beach.

August and Fall Racing Plans

As I try to squeeze the last bits of mountain adventure from the summer, I look forward to fall. Technically, I'm already training for fall races, but I'm keeping things flexible enough that if I want to climb a mountain instead of run in circles on the track, I don't beat myself up about it. Whether I'm running 440 yd repeats on the track or climbing a mountain, I'm building strength, and in the end, that's really all that matters. I'm trying to say yes to life as much as possible.

Right now, I'm in the middle of the first cycle, building up half marathon pace and related workouts. I have never done this before. Half marathons have always been used as tuneup races and I never specifically trained or tapered for them. Hopefully a little focused work will help produce a new PR. I'm especially excited about this race because it falls on my birthday and couldn't think of a better way to start out my 31st year than a speedy new personal record.

After that, I'll be transitioning all my half marathon paced workouts to marathon pace and hopefully that strength built early on will make marathon pace feel easier. There are a few club races along the way to marathon day but I don't think I'll be tapering for many of those.

Here's my fall racing schedule:

September 13th: Blue Lake 5K 
Goal: Go out hard, hang on. The same way I race all my 5Ks.

September 20th: The Rogue Run Half
Goal race: 1:37-1:38

October 18th: Humboldt Redwoods Half.
-Would like to beat club rival who has *just barely* beaten me twice recently. Might actually taper for this one to give me the best possible chance at victory!

November 14: Arcata Bottoms 8 Miler
-Last year, I ran this one in 60:58. I'd love to finally break an hour this time. The pavement on this course is always a mess so maybe I'll grab a training run or two out there just to map out the best footing.

November 26: Turkey Trot 5K
-This race is during the marathon taper and has enough people that I usually find someone to really push me. This will be the best chance for me to finally break my two year old PR, so I'll probably try to do that.

December 6: California International Marathon
-The weather for this race has never been very nice to me. I know I'm taking a bit of a risk by training for it, but I have a handful of friends who are running too, so even if the weather isn't in my favor, it will still be fun together experience. I'm training for a 3:25-3:30 finish.

Here's the plan:

click on the photo for a larger version

I'm currently about two weeks from the taper for the half marathon and everything has been going well. It isn't until I'm back on the track and running structured workouts that I realize how strong all this slow and hilly trail running makes me. I'm keeping my weekly mileage down a little bit from my usual diet of miles, miles, miles!!!! and focusing on more fast runs. Overall, my body has been responding well and I've had only a couple of days where my allergies have bothered me enough to affect my daily life. Fingers crossed everything stays that way.

Instead of running my long runs on the road, I've been running them on the trails. Eventually, I'll transition back to all that pounding, but for now I'm enjoying the variety. I can have my cake and eat it too. Yippee!

Here are a few highlights from August:

King Peak, 14 miles

Lassen Peak and some other volcanic features

Lassen Peak

Subway Cave

Running the Headwaters Climb HARD instead of running ovals on the track
...then running a route PR even though we took a bunch of photo and water breaks

My watch died on this run too, so some data came from Matt's watch.

Nice hill, huh?

Track workouts, because it wouldn't be road season without some nerdy Garmin stats

I've been surprised by how comfortable these runs have been. They're still plenty hard, don't worry. 

Last week's half marathon pace workout: 4 mi @ 7:25/mi

Last week's track workout: 6x880yds @ 3:15-3:20

Today's half marathon pace workout: 5 mi @ 7:25/mi.

And finally, a potpourri of daily activities

Naps with Zoey

Band concert at the Fireman's BBQ

Volunteering at the Sand Dollar Shuffle

Onesie for a friend's little one

Pyrocu in the evening sun

Brownies and ice cream with chocolate sauce. OMG. Must make again.

Jammin'. Picked the berries (still have scratches everywhere to prove it), made about 12 pints of jam and one pie. Delicious.  Summer, please don't go!

How does your fall training plan look? What other things do you enjoy doing that you don't often feature on your blog?