Race Report: Shut Up and Run XC 5K

Also known as my Thanksgiving Day turkey trot.

When I started running back in 2007 I thought it would be a good idea to run a race on Thanksgiving Day. I figured if I ran a race I could eat as much as I wanted the rest of the day. Good thinkin', right?

And in 2008 I did the same thing. So this year, I figured I might as well make it a tradition for the rest of my life. Or until old age claims the use of my legs. Whichever comes first.

This year I ran the Shut Up and Run XC 5K here in Saint Augustine. I was really hoping to beat my previous 5K PR time of 26:40, but all hopes of that went out the window when I realized they weren't lying about the whole "XC" thing. There was grass, dirt, pavement, sand, trails, random tree branches, etc. All elements that equal careful footing, and not so much fast running.

Anyway, it was actually cold, too. And by "cold" I mean 50, maybe 55 degrees. For the love of all that is holy, I had to wear my jacket! (I know, you can all stop throwing tomatoes right now....)

Just before the race with my cute dog, Marley.

Anyway, the gun went off I started running. My goal was to pick a runner that was a bit faster than me, pass him/her, then pick another runner to pass, and continue on in this fashion until the end. I've heard of a lot of runners that have done this, but I never have. I usually just run at my pace, not care who passes me, and finish when I finish. Not this time, my friends. Not this time.

I was running hard, but I was passing people. Not just women, but men, too. The only time I ever pass a man is when he's 1.) fat, or 2.) really old. But I say again, fellow bloggers, not this time. I passed (or, rather, "chicked") at least five or six fit-looking guys, all of whom seemed to be around my age. It was fan-freakin-tastic!

This chick in pink gave me a run for my money. Soon enough, though, she was left in my dust!

The course was fun, too. I was surprised to find out that I really liked the whole "XC" thing. I did see one girl eat it on the bridge, though. I tried not to laugh because I figured if I did, I'd be the next one to hit the ground ass first. And I saw a little kid run right into a pole. That had to have hurt, for reals!

It turned out to be a pretty good race because I PRd by 16 seconds. That's right, folks. I got a new PR!

26:24

Race Report: Ragnar Relay Florida (Parts Two and Three)

Oh, the suspense! I know you all having been anxiously awaiting my second installment of the Ragnar Florida chronicles, right? Well, a little something called Thanksgiving happened, and with it went all my time and motivation to write a new post. But, alas, here I am.

PART TWO
After my first leg, Van 2 quickly ate some BBQ chicken (which I declined because my stomach was feeling queasy) which the race provided. It looked and smelled delicious, but all my body was saying was, "Find the Port-o-Potties ASAP!" I finally found them and then had to wait for one to become vacant. This wait was pretty much the worst wait in my life. If that guy hadn't have gotten out of the port-o-potty when he did there would've been a serious mess to clean up right where I was standing. Just in the nick of time, sheesh! And thank goodness nature called after my run. What if this would've happened during my 8.8 miler? I don't even want to think about it. I've never had a close call before during a race, and this was a close as I ever want to get.

Anyway, after Van 2 ate their chicken we hopped in the van and headed toward the next major exchange point, where Van 1 would hand off to us. It was fairly quiet and I managed to sneak in about 30 minutes of sleep on my blanket and tarp. Well, maybe not sleep, but "resting with my eyes closed." It was nice. I ate a turkey sandwich and then waited for Van 1 to finish their legs. Before we knew it Van 1 was there, and our Runner 7 (Steve) was off.

All of Van 2's seconds legs were located on the West Orange Trail, a paved trail that's sort of close to Orlando. Good for running, I suppose, but next time I'd rather run it during the daylight. Just sayin'. It was dark. Blindingly dark.

Waiting for Rich to hand off to me

Rich passing the slap bracelet to me

My second leg (3.6 miles) started at about 4 a.m. and like I said, it was dark. Pitch black. I could barely make out the trees on the side of the trail. My little headlamp felt useless. This is what was bad about running on the trail at night. No cars to light the roadway. Just you, your headlamp, and your thoughts. I don't know about you, but I get really freaked out by complete darkness. And let's not even talk about the fact that the portion of the trail my leg was on was not in the best of areas. I would classify it as ghetto. Scary. Trailer park houses and everything. And there was no one around me. No other runners in sight. Just me, my headlamp, and my thoughts. I kept imagining some mugger jumping out of the trees and raping me. I was THAT scared. Pretty sure my heart rate was at its max. I kept thinking, "I'm so easy to spot with this damn headlamp! And let's not even talk about my breathing. Pretty sure that's loud enough to lead the mugger right to me." Maybe my thoughts can get carried away, but I was freaked. I even turned off my iPod so that I could hear my surroundings. I never turn off my iPod. This is why I can't even watch scary movies.

I finally got to where I thought my leg was supposed to end, and I see an overpass. WTF? The leg map didn't say anything about an overpass. There were Ragnar signs marking the way, so I followed it up and over the overpass. And then my worst nightmare happened. I went the wrong way. After the overpass, the sign said "Turn Left" and so I did. But what the sign should've said was, "Turn left a full 180 degrees." I turned left only 90 degrees. So there I was, running in the wrong direction, in a ghetto neighborhood, and I didn't even realize it. Until I looked at my watch. Over 36 minutes had passed since I started my leg, and my leg was only 3.6 miles. That would put me at a 10:00 mile, and I knew I was running faster than that. "Shit!" was my only thought. I turned around and started running back the other way until I eventually saw the exchange point up ahead. My team was surprised to see me there because the volunteers hadn't called out our team number yet. At this point, I was feeling pretty defeated, freaked out of my mind, and I was ready to be done with this leg. It sucked the life out of me. I ended up running about 4.6 miles, one mile longer than I was supposed to.

Overall, my team was very supportive, and they said it was no big deal, but at the time it felt like a big deal to me. It took me about an hour to really collect myself and my thoughts. I was mainly mad at myself for going the wrong way, and totally freaked out about the dodgy neighborhood I had to run through. Thank goodness it was time to rest, though. I was exhausted.

We drove to the next major exchange point and I immediately laid down a tarp and curled myself like a burrito into my blanket and slept for two hours.

PART THREE
Van 1 finished their legs at around 10:30/11:00 a.m. I can't really recall the exact time now. All I know is that Van 2 had to run through some killer hot heat in the middle of the day. No shade, open black roads, glaring sun, fatigued runners. Just one of the many reasons why running a Ragnar is no easy task. I was lucky enough to be the last runner in the van and by the time it was my turn to run again, the sun was starting to set and it wasn't as hot.

My LAST leg

My final leg started at about 3:45 p.m. and it was 7.6 miles. I was the final runner for our team, too, so I was looking for the finish line (aka Daytona Beach). Runner 11, Rich, made his way to the exchange point way faster than I expected so I didn't have time to go pee, which in hindsight, would've been nice. He handed off the slap bracelet to me and off I went.

It didn't take more than a minute or two before I realized my legs were tired. I was tired. I had already run almost 14 miles, had very little sleep, had not had enough nutrition, and I needed to pee. Damn. But I was determined to keep my 9:30 projected pace. De. Ter. Mined. About a half mile into my run I see a bridge. Not a small bridge, but a GINORMOUS bridge. "I thought this leg was supposed to be flat?!" Ahhhhhh! Of course, I should've prepared myself for this. I knew I was going to have to cross the Inter coastal, and of course, there would be a bridge. How I didn't put two and two together fails me. But like I said, I was determined. I ran up that bridge like it was nothing. Don't know where that strength came from, but I did it. One thing I noticed during the climb: "Geez, it's windy." Really windy. The water below me was really choppy, but at least the weather wasn't as hot as it had been for my team earlier in the day.

Running down the bridge. Notice the smile on my face. It was a good run.

Once I came to the top of the bridge I saw it. And by "it" I mean the ocean. It was the most beautiful sight. I got carried away in that moment and pumped my fist in the air. I'm pretty sure people in their cars probably gave me a funny look. Whatever. I was in the moment. "Holy crap! We've just run across the entire state of Florida! I'm running in Daytona Beach right now! We're almost done! I LOVE RUNNING!!" From there on out it was all happy thoughts, all the time. I still had over 6 miles to go, but that was it. Six miles before the finish line. Not just an exchange point, but the finish line. The one and only finish line.

Just after the bridge I made a left and holy head wind! My last 6 miles were straight into the wind. I didn't mind. At least it wasn't hot. My van stopped about every mile to give me support and water. I refused the water after a couple of miles because I really had to go pee. Amazingly, the only time I stopped to walk was at Mile 4 when I quickly ate my Gu and downed it with a some water, maybe 15 seconds total. I have no idea how I did this. The not walking, I mean. I'm the kind of runner who takes walk breaks. Especially if I'm running over 6 miles. And especially if I've already run over 14 miles. But I didn't. I felt tired, but good. Maybe it was because I knew my husband would be waiting at the finish line. Maybe I was still on a high from my "bridge moment." Whatever it was, I felt good.

And the smile continues.

Still smiling, even though you can't see it.

At about 7.3 miles my teammate, Rich, wanted to run with me to the finish line. He asked me if I was ready to run and I said yes. We picked up the pace, and in no time I saw the rest of my team, Van 1 included. And then I saw the bright orange finish line. I picked up the pace even more, and with the rest of my team, crossed the finish line. It was awesome. Awe. Some. And I saw my husband. And I gave him a big hug. And I got my huge medal. And we took pictures. And life was grand.

The Daytona Beach boardwalk. Almost done.

Go Team INTRIGUED BY FATIGUE!

I finished that leg in 1:16:something, about a 10:00 pace. A little slower than expected, but I was still happy with it.

My team finished the race in 33:04:15. We came in 69/113. Middle of the pack runners. I was happy with that.

And I ran a total of 21 miles with only 30 seconds or so of walking. Literally the best feeling ever.

Race Report: Ragnar Relay Florida (Part One)

Every time I finish one of these relays it just reaffirms the fact that this type of event is my favorite to run in. Love, love, love it.

The Florida Ragnar starts in Tarpon Springs, a cute town on the Gulf Coast of Florida, and ends in Daytona Beach, all the way across the state on the Atlantic Ocean. 203 total miles.

How it works: During the relay, each team member runs three legs, ranging between 3 and 9 miles and varying in difficulty. Each team is allowed two vans. The first van will drop off the first runner, drive ahead a few miles, cheer the runner on, and provide them with water, snacks, and plenty of love. That van will then drive ahead to the first exchange point to drop off the second runner and pick up the first runner when that leg is complete. You repeat this pattern for six legs until you hand off to the second van. Sort of like a leapfrog pattern.

My team, Intrigued By Fatigue, started in Tarpon Springs at 8:00 a.m. (Note: Before the race, I didn't know a single person on my team. Seriously. I randomly joined a team that needed another runner)

The starting line

Team #079, Intrigued by Fatigue

Waiting to start my first leg

I was runner 12, so that meant that I had to wait until every member of our team had run their first leg before I could start mine. Talk about getting anxious! I started my 8.8 mile run at about 5:45 p.m. It was already semi-dark, but still light enough that I could take in the scenery. Beautiful. I think we were in horse country, because there were horses everywhere. I mean everywhere. And, of course, the road I was on was surrounded by dense pines and palmettos.

About 2 miles into my run it was officially dark outside. But I didn't mind because the night sky was gorgeous! There aren't many places in Florida where I've been able to see the stars so clearly, so I was really just enjoying my run. It was one of those "This Is Why I Love Running" runs. I felt awesome. I even got a road kill, which at my pace, and considering the fact that the teams were pretty spread out at this point, was pretty freakin' fantastic! (Note: Road kill = runners you pass)

Going strong.

I barrelled into Exchange 12 and handed off to Runner 1. I finished in 1:24:23, which means I averaged a 9:30 pace. I was happy with that. Really happy with that. The only time I stopped to walk was at Mile 5 when my team handed me my gel packet and water. I only walked for the amount of time it took to scarf down the gel and drink some water, maybe a total of 15 seconds. Other than that, it was running all the way, baby!

Just after I finished my leg. I was thirsty! Pretty sure I drank most of the bottle in one swig!

Van 2 after our first legs (minus Rich...where is he?!)

I love having the support of team members. It was really cool to be able to see my van in the distance, and know that I'd have spectators and supporters when I reached it. It inspired me to just keep going, which is why I finished so strong and so fast (for me). And yes, I was the only woman in my van. I thought it was going to be weird, but it wasn't even a big deal. In fact, I think I ran better than I usually do trying to prove to those guys that I can run just as well as they could! Ha.

Redemption run

Today was better.

I ran 7 miles, and it actually felt great.

Maybe my body isn't as worn down as I thought.

YAY.

Eight days

Let's just say that my endurance has failed me. Or rather, my sick body hasn't recovered yet.

I ran today for the first time in eight days. I only ran 3 miles. And those 3 miles pretty much killed me.

I'm screwed for the Florida Ragnar next week.

I would like to take this moment to curse the person who gave me the flu last week. I don't know who you are, but when I figure it out, I'm going all voodoo on your ass. Needle stabs and everything.

I'm extremely frustrated. As I've said before, I was just getting to where I needed to be in my marathon training for endurance and speed, and now I feel like I'm back at square one. How do I jump back from this?

I've got a 15-miler scheduled this Saturday, but since I missed last week's long run (and all workouts last week), I'm not sure if I have it in me. Plus, I have to run 20 miles for the Florida Ragnar next week, and I'm freaking out.

How do you all jump back from a huge setback like this? Should I continue with my current training schedule, and just try to get through it? Or should I modify my training program, and try to cut back the miles slightly? I'm just worried because that 3-miler tonight was hard. I literally felt like an amateur runner, out for my first 5K or something.

But maybe it was just today. Maybe I'll be better tomorrow. In any case, I need lots of advice and lots of encouragement. I can do this, right?

'Tis the season

It seems everywhere I look on the blogosphere someone has fallen sick. I suppose it is that time of year.

In good news, I feel better today than I did yesterday. It's a start, I guess, but today will be Day 4 with no running or exercise. Boo. Depending on how I feel tonight, I'm going to attempt my 10-miler tomorrow. If I don't make it the full 10 miles, I at least will have a good excuse.

The other day I was talking with one of the nurse practitioners that I work with at the hospital and she noticed that I was reading Runner's World. Which, of course, led to the subject of running, how far I run, how many miles is a marathon (don't people just know that?), yadda yadda yadda...she then proceeded to ask me, "Doesn't running that far screw up your knees and bang up your kidneys?" to which I replied, "do I look all banged up to you?" I don't think she appreciated my answer.

But, seriously. How is it that someone who works in health care be so oblivious? Why is it that non-runners think that running is bad for you? "Yes, ma'am. Exercise is bad for you." Please.

SIIIIIIIIICK

That's right. I'm sick. I haven't run for two days and I'm really bummed out about it. I love running, and I was just beginning to hit my stride again, as far as endurance and distance is concerned. Plus, I always feel so much better about myself after a good, hard run.

But look on the bright side: at least I'm getting sick now, instead of in two weeks when I have to run the Florida Ragnar. Because we all remember my last experience running a Ragnar with the flu....

Until then, lots of rest, lots of sleep, and lots of soup.