Psycho Psummer Run Toto Run: Race Report

July 10, 2010

Pscho Psummer Run Toto Run Race Report

I would be remis to not begin this post by thanking Ben Holmes, Sophia Wharton, Dick Ross, and the Trail Nerds for assembling not just a wonderful run, series of yearly runs, or a staff of volunteers that made the Psycho Psummer run fantastic, but for creating an experience that was worth much more than the price of admission.

I plan for every race with the same amateur methods...log less miles than I should, struggle with a complicated schedule, eat barely any meat products, but drink too much soda.

The Psycho Psummer trail run is on rocky, rooty, muddy, and steep trails in the Wyandotte County Lake Park located in Kansas. Juxtaposing the wonderful, natural setting where human beings compete, relying only on their legs, with the nearby race track where machines race at speeds up to hundreds of miles leaves a stark contrast in the type of competitions present within a few mile radius. As I passed the raceway on the way home, I was thankful to be lucky enough to be involved with the former. (Calm down, NASCAR fans...it's with all due respect).

This race morning I was ready to go! I had run on a trail only one time before...at the February Run Toto Run...this would be my second time...EVER! I laid out my clothing for the race...shorts, bandana, socks, and shoes. I love it...compared to a winter race where I feel like I am packing for a week-long vacation. I went a little crazy and chose a banana instead of a pop tart for my race meal, and a glass of chia fresca to wash down a salt pill. I am a big believer in trial and error, especially since most of the time I am on the "error" side. I left the house around 6:30 am for the gas station...to get a soda...some routines just shouldn't be broken.

Pre Race

Pulling into the park gave me the sense of relief. Normally, I am tense, nervous, and in dire need of a porta-potty. But not this morning. The tension of besting a previous time was absent, and that was enough to calm my mind and body. I parked the car along the side of the road, and who parked behind me? A friend of mine, Ken Moran, who was the one who convinced me to run the February run early in the year. His would be the only face I would know at the race, and it was nice to have someone to talk to.

Race Start
After some unusual warning from the race directors (to paraphrase, be careful running downhill or you could get seriously injured) ...compared to a road race...the 15 miler race began. 200+ runners filed unceremoniously into a single track trail, bring us to a walk which would last for the better part of a mile. The summation of the first three miles is simple: downhill on rocky, muddy, and slippery trails...do not make light of this, because a basic qualification of a trail runner in my mind is coordination. Fortunately, I am balanced like a cat. Unfortunately, a couple of runners in front and behind me were not. Down in the mud they went, but with no damages. Me, I remained unscathed, and would remain so for quite a while.

I had every intention of remembering the key trail points and geography for each mile...only 15 pieces of information to remember. But at some point my brain went into a sharp focus around mile 12.5 (I will get that shortly), and the trail history was pushed out of my memory. This is what I have pieced together:

Miles 1 - 5
I filed into a comfortable line of runners progressing at a slower pace than what I intended to run, but the pace was fun and the conversation light. Even if I wanted to pass, I couldn't, so I enjoyed the company and scenery. Up and down, and up and down again through the trails we went. We eventually came to a moderate downhill splattered with mud pockets and standing muddy water. The line sloshed through, some slipping in the mud...but not me. I was light as a feather (not really) and barely got any mud on my shoes! Somewhere possibly around mile 4 (?) I heard a runner behind me lamenting the hill that was to come. Around the corner, and Oh, smile for the camera. That was a distraction, for tied to two trees was a thick rope leading up an incredible hill. To reverse a quote by Phil Silvers in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad World, "...up there?! WE HAVE TO GO UP THERE?!" But any race where a rope is necessary suddenly became the best race in which I have ever partipated. Beautiful!

Miles 5 - 12
Circulating through the brush around mile 5 I checked my Garmin...60+ minutes! Holy crap! This was going to take me over 3 hours to complete. I have never been on my feet running for more than 2 1/2 hours before, so like everything else that encompasses a trail race, this was another new experience. I thought about Ken and what his position probably was...out in front, probably at mile 10, preparing his final advance to win. I hoped so.

Leaving the second aid station (?) after eating an orange slice and topping off my water, I ran past the first troop of runners I had been following, and fell into line behind a fellow running in Vibrams. First, I am impressed that anyone can run in those, and second, jealous, because I cannot get my skinny foot hamped by an uncooperative pinky toe into them. Up through mile 7.5 I followed Mr. Vibram and enjoyed his conversation, as did the runners behind me in line. We speculated on if there had ever been any streakers in this race...and that sums up the mood. It was fun, the run was fun, and halfway through, I felt no pain, no frustration, and the joy of running was in full form.

The trails in this race seem endless. The are well marked with Do Not Enter, Turn Left, Straight Ahead signs, but I have to wonder how anyone trains on these trails and doesn't get lost!

Miles 12 - 15
Up to mile 12.5 I ran steady, not fast, but careful. I knew I was going to have to push it toward the end, simply because my endurance has been suffering this year. But at the mile 12 (?) aid station, something happened. Behind my knee, my muscle started to pulse, and not in a good way. I immediately stopped, rubbed it, and commanded my leg, NO. From there to the end it was a battle with my legs, and the trail was on their side.

The logs that I hopped over before seemed a little bit higher. Oh, I still hopped over them, but oh did it hurt when I landed. My thighs were cramping and I was beginning to get frustrated. Not with the run, but with why I was feeling pain. This was a fun race, a different race, a trail race! After the Wyandotte Triangle, I swallowed some IB and a couple of salt pills. Too little, too late. Again, back to the trail and error. I should have been taking salt much earlier...now I know.

Two miles to go I was met with a scene from an Indiana Jones movie. A very long path filled with muddy potholes, and no way would I be able to gracefully run along the side. I think the race directors do this on purpose, because what fun is it for them if every runner comes back clean. I picked the spots to step, and paraded gracefully across the mudslide. A runner in front of me was slipping around like a greased pig, and I could hear the sucking sounds as his shoes were tring to free themselves from his feet. I smiled big, and almost laughed. How I was glad to never have lost a shoe in the mud. But with mud comes a greater distance to lift your legs, and mind were tired. My right leg hit a seemingly huge mud hole, and like a mud exposion, I was covered in it. My pretty shoes were swollowed up in the mud, and although they remained secure to my feet, I began carrying what seemed like half the trail securely attached to my shoes through the rest of the muddy marsh.

My legs were cramping badly now, but slowing down to walk made it worse. Running was the only way to continue, so that is what I did. But the trail continues uphill. As my youngest daughter would say, "Are you serious?" Light steps (ha) took me up the last bit of trail, and around the bend, I was ready for the soft grass. Alas, it wasn't there. More mud, more trail, more uphill, more rocks...

I love trail running, seriously!

Looking at my Garmin, I watched mile 15 come, and then go. If I had been in a road race, I would have been ready to revolt. Somehow today, I didn't mind. I could hear people yelling, and I knew I was almost there. Finally, I was running across the road, down the green grass, over the concrete bridge, and into the straightaway. Ken (who had already won the 15 mile race) had kindly stuck around to cheer me through to the finish. I was forced to run unnaturally, since my leg was cramping badly and there was no way I was going to walk into the finish, so suffer through I did. But suffering is realitive. Ben Holmes was at the finish line with a medal, a look-you-in-the-eyes handshake, and cold beer. Now that combination was worth the price of admission.

I finished 15 miles in about what it would take me to finish a full marathon. The perspective of time is something runners dwell on. It is something that was almost an afterthough today. I finished my second run (and that includes any training runs) on a trail, and I felt like a kid. I got to run through the forest, mud, over rocks, in the water, climb up hills using a rope...enjoy an experience that is in my top two running experiences.

Why the Psycho Wyco races are world-class:

Food: Seriously, for anyone to not get enough calories and nutrients during the race would be impossible. These people really take care of you.

Aid: Each aid station is like a hotel...they want you to stay awhile, eat, relax, no hurries.

Photography: Free pictures! Nothing in this world is free, but somehow we get free pictures...and lots of them. This is a practice every race should follow.

Personality: The sponsors treat you like you would want to be treated. Enough said.

Experience: They are plenty of things in this world we can buy with money. We can amass mounds of "things". But an experience, especially a positive one, will carry more influence, more smiles, more stories, and more life than anything else.

Thank you to everyone who contributed to my experience. Congratulations to my friend Ken who won, but mostly for sticking around for another hour to watch me finish. Thank you to Dick Ross and crew for the great pictures (so my kids could ask me why I was naked! even though I was wearing shorts). And thank you to the RDs...you are an example for all other RDs to follow.

M

Having it Handed to You

So, I went running over lunch. If you've been outside today in Lee's Summit, MO, you know that it is hot and humid. But, I'm a super-stud, right?

Down Pryor road to Schere, I am cruising. But I can feel my skin sweating off...pretty sure I lost two pounds between Hook and Eagle Creek...good riddance. Crest up the hll, still moving at a 7:30 pace, and I am feeling good, but hot.

I get to the turnaround point, but damn, lost another pound somewhere...might need to pick that one back up. Fortunately for me, there were no spectators, for the most part of my route, because the heat and my mind were kicking my butt.

I was whipped.

Never, ever, have I sweated so much,or felt so depleted...and really wondering why I didn't go swimming instead.

Walked three times on the way back. Damn.

Lessons Learned:

• I am nt as good as I think
• It is crazy to run in the middle of the day during the summertime
• Running gets harder the more I do it
• No one care about how well I run, except me
• I am without answers (like when you get dumped and hae no idea why, and she wasn't even all that great)
• Heat makes me delirious (Note: I shoud never get drunk in the heat of the day)
• Chocolate milk is wonderful

Cheers!

Night Flight 5K - 2010

In junior high and in high school, I was a runner. Well, I ran track and cross country, but at heart I hated it...every single second. So, as soon as school was over, so was running. When my wife became pregnant with our first child, I decided that I needed to get back into shape, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Running was the natural answer for the physical part, so I started running in the fall of 20o2. Madilyn was born the following July 2003.

Running is not an attractive sport. Sure, runners are lean and physically fit, women wear short shorts, and the medals and race shirts are super cool. But it is hard...waking up early, running in the heat, freezing cold, rain, and often alone. A runner battles foot pains, leg cramps, sore backs, blisters, chaffing, and the emotional destruction of will at every turn, where the demons lurk to kill our fortitude. Basically, it is hard, and it hurts.

I should have been a lawyer.

Convincing Madilyn to run a race with me was rather easy...she is easy-going anyway, and believed we would have fun running a nice, little race. So, I signed us up for the 2010 Night Flight 5K in Lee's Summit, MO. The race was held in our town, and started / finished at the gym where the girls play indoor soccer, so convienience was all around.

Madge and I picked up our race packets on Thursdays, but to our disappointment, her shirt was way too big. But, no matter. We went home, found a cool, black tank-top shirt, and we sat together in the bedroom pinning on her bib, talking about the rules of running: race shirts can't be worn until after you complete the race, eat all the food you can after the race, and when the pain comes, say "hello", and keep running.

Night Flight started at 9 pm...an hour past her school-time bedtime! We arrived in the parking lot 45 minutes before hand, visited the restroom (2 additional times for me), and began stretching. We stretched our calves on the curb, held each other steady as we stretched our thighs and hamstrings, and sat on the sidewalk talking and stretching some more. Other runners and spectators stopped by to talk to Maddi, as she was clearly the youngest runner in the race...she graciously engaged with each of them, smiling nervously the entire time.

As the RD called out the final instructions, Maddi and I stood next to each other, me still talking about what we were going to do as we ran...run slow and steady, keep looking ahead, etc. I held my hands on her, to keep her close, physically and metaphorically, and as the horn sounded, together we started running.

"Soft steps, Maddi" I repeated. I hadn't realized that running a race isn't natural. There are techniques that are learned...like arm movement, posture, and gliding strides. We held hands as some runners slowed down, and as some ran past. But then...we were off!

We ran the first mile without stopping...11 minutes...not bad for a 6 1/2 year old. I pointed to the people clapping and chearing us. "They are cheering for you, Maddi," I told her. And they were. Most spectatators cheer for everyone, and a little louder for the runners the know. No one knew Maddi, but when they saw her, they pointed and shouted louder. "You go girl!" "Show 'em how to do it, blondie!" I was eating it up. Maddi turned to me as we took a brief walking break, "They are cheering for you, Maddi", I said. "They are?" asked Maddi. You bet!

We took our first short walking break after the first mile, and as we entered downtown, the crowds were larger and more vocal. At the turnaround, Maddi and I grabbed some water, with Maddi dumping some on her head...a true runner! As we headed back to the way we came, the distance began to wear on Madge. It was uphill, dark, and she had been on her feet running longer than she had ever been. A couple more walking breaks, more cheers from spectatators, and we were almost home!

The route from Douglas (leading to and from downtown) took us back onto the outer road. Another runner passed us, but turned to Maddi and commented on how fast she (Madge) was running. Her words must have had an impact, because Maddi started running faster, and with determination. As we rounded the driveway into the community center parking lot, Maddi was sprinting. To the side were her grandparents and uncle, each shouting loudly. I was beaming!

We crossed the finish line in 39:58...a huge success for Madilyn's first 5k. We ate, drank, and took some pictures. I didn't stop smiling the entire night.

Sitting on the ground with Madilyn during the awards ceremony, watching the runners mingling, and soaking up the time spent with my daughter, I felt the true joy of running.

Thank you, Madilyn, for an incredible night. Thank you for being born!

The Swimming Runner

Runners stretch, pace, drink a lot of water, eat Gu, chia seeds, buy new shoes all the time (to the chargrin of our spouses), yet for the recreational runner, this isn't enough to establish a lean body frame.

Swimming is the perfect cross-training exercise for runners...and why? This is my expert (I'm a novice) opinion:

• Swimming, next to walking, is the best physical activity for your body.
• There is no impact to your bones and joints (except for early morning swimmers who experience the shock of the cold water against the barely-awake body).
• You are stretching your entire body with every stroke
• Increased lung capacity
• Better trained lungs
• Core building (abdomen, glutes, chest, hips, stomach)

Somehow, I get lean when I swim. I feel lean. I feel good. And because I am a runner, where repitition is intrinsic to the art, lap swimming is within my windfall tolerance.

Oh, and the swimsuits...well, it does provide motivation. Those things are skin tight. Plus, we are already wearing tights in the winter to run, why not wear a skin-tight swimsuit in the summer.

Hospital Hill Half-Marathon Race Report

The expectation of race directors for runners is runners train properly by logging the necessary miles, long and short, and are mentally prepared for the race for which they paid money.
The expectation of a runner for oneself is adequate and proper training, both physical and mental is a requirement, performed weeks (and sometimes months) in advance, in order to achieve the greatest results.

Expectations are sometimes not met.

I ran the Go Saint Louis Half-Marathon in April...it was not a solid performance. I trained improperly and inadequately, but still carried a confidence into the race that I had not had in the previous two half-marathon races. I failed to run a good race, walking multiple times and landing a 1:45.

The preface to all of this is simple: I ran the RunTotoRun 10 mile trail race in February...again improperly trained. However, I loved that race. Running through the woods, up hills meant for mountain goats, through the mud...it was like being a kid again. Awesome. But with one downside: I instantly did not want to run road races anymore. Fast forward to the morning of the Hospital Hill Half-Marathon race....nope, not going to do it anymore...this is the last road race.

And then I started to run.

The weather was hot, humid, and perfectly normal for Kansas City, MO in the spring. I decided to run the first few miles easy...watching my Garmin to ensure I didn't broach 7:40 / mile. I have a tendancy to feel really strong after the first mile, and then I blow up around mile 7...at least that is what happened in STL (reference my inadequate training, in addition to). But, I kept it nice and easy...steady as she goes...for the first 5 miles. And then, something strange happened...

Gliding up the hill past the college, I started to smile. I was having fun. Of course, I was not running to compete, even with myself, but was just running. I stopped at every aide station, taking Gatorade and water (sometimes), stopping to ensure I was drinking the fluid instead of sloshing it down my shirt, and started back up. I had not run more than 8 miles in a single run since STL, so I was concerned how my legs would handle the distance. At mile 8, I did a systems check: legs - good; arms - good; fingernails - growing (wierd); feet - good; visor - failing.

Mile 9 came with a parting of a newly made friend, forever. Holding a hat in my hand simply isn't worth it. So I tossed it into the yard of the joyous new owner of an Under Armour white visor, and took off.

Mile 10 came with the pain. I had a rock in my shoe, I thought anyway. A stabbing pain to my ankle that caused an instant reaction...must...stop...to...remove...the...stupid...rock. NO! I refused to stop. There was no water, there was no Gatorade, so there would be no stopping.

I attribute running to penance, sometimes. I deserve the pain. I have earned it. I will pay for it.

Mile 12 should have had trumpets blariing from my Garmin, because it meant there was only a mile to go. I was running strong, I felt good, and I was still smiling. So I sprinted.

Sprinting for a long distance runner is like having an out-of-body experience. It isn't natural, and I get light-headed. But man, what a rush! It was my cliff-dive rush. Up the massive hill on the backside of the Federal Reserve Bank (they keep a ton of cash just below the courtyard at that place), and then down the hill. My dear friend was there, waiting for me as I sprinted by. She didn't see me, of course. Must have been going too fast! (As a side note, a long-distance runner sprinting is like watching a 100 meter dash sprinter take a victory lap...speed-wise, anyway).

Finish line...

Hospital Hill was my slowest time yet...1:49 and a lot of change. But it was a rejuvination of my runninig self. I learned in 13.1 miles to enjoy the run, to have fun, and to not worry. Isn't that was running is all about? Racing is about winning, and the time in which you finish. Running is about running, no matter what the pace.

Oh, and the medal. The Flavor Flav-sized medal! You know what they say about a man with a huge medal...

Training Week: 4/18 - 24

After the blowup at STL, I am renewing my training plan. Hill sprints, true tempo runs, and mid- and long-distance runs.

Monday and Wednesday were the same runs, but with the later at a higher intensity. Both runs were done with an ending result where I felt I could still continue the last lap pace (ergo, not be totally cashed) at the end of 6.6.

Friday is hill sprints, with Saturday as my long day.
Weekly total is 36 miles.

Weekly mileage (and results)

Monday, April 19
1.3 mile laps; pace/lap; time/lap

• 8:23, 10:52 (l1)
• 8:05, 10:30 (l2)
• 7:58, 10:21 (l3)
• 7:50, 10:11 (l4)
• 7:40, 9:58 (l5)

Total time: 51:54

Wednesday, April 21
1.3 mile laps; pace/lap; time/lap

• 8:15, 10:43 (l1)
• 7:56, 10:18 (l2)
• 7:54, 10:16 (l3)
• 7:43, 10:01 (l4)
• 7:21, 9:33 (l5)

Total time: 50:53

Despite only being two days of tempo runs in the same week, I am attempting to train my mind and body to know when and how much to speed up. Frankly, my body needs to decide after a couple of miles, instead of at the start of the run.

The Experience of Running

How much time is spent contemplating, analyzing, and documenting details of our schedules where it creates more confusion than clarity? A running schedule is simple: what day to run, how many miles, totals for the week, indication of run type...that's it...basic.

Coming off my STL half marathon, I am not devestated, disposed to quitting, or ready to settle for one race a year. In fact, I am more motivated to hurt, to feel the pain that running provides to my mind and body, and figure out how to make myself, as a runner, better. So, this is the plan:

1 long run a week (13 - 25 miles)
2 tempo runs (5 - 10 miles)
1 hill sprint run (5 miles)
1 barefoot run (2 - 4 miles)

And it is not the process of defining what these runs are, it is the effort that I need to take with each one of them. Simply running the distance does not work (ergo STL). But, pushing harder up the hills, giving into my breathing instead of forcing easier breathes, and sticking to the distance will work. Why? Because it teaches pain management. If this lesson could be transferred from working everyday, I would be a world-class runner. We all would. Sadly, pain management is non-transferrable.

So, when you run, make it count. Earn the downhill by charging up the hill. This isn't my plan...it's my rule. And much later after my body has learned it's lesson and is moving to the next level, will my mind begin to catch up.

The schedule is the shopping list, the workout the trip to the market. The race is my dinner, and the entire experience is the reward. Because running isn't about the medal or buckle, or crossing the finish line...it's about the experience. And the experience is running in the cold and heat, buying shoes, learning about GU, choking on water during the run, learning to blow your nose again, getting nipple rash, pinning on the bib, bounding down the road, calling yourself names, congratulating yourself, crossing the finish line again, wearing the medal, reading the posted results, and then doing it all over again.

Maybe I will run farther tomorrow...better check my running schedule.

GO! St.Louis Half Marathon 2010

The Go Saint Louis Half-Marathon is in the bag...which is where my performance needs to stay.
This race was my first "out-of-town" race in my new race career. It was exciting at first, but with the thoughts of traveling over three hours to STL, finding the hotel, meeting friends on Saturday, getting back to the hotel late, and getting ready in a small bathroom and in the hall, I became less and less excited as the weeks wore one. But in the last week leading up to the race, I found the needed excitement...this race wasn't a precursor, a training run, or an obligation. It was a race that I wanted to do, and do well. Only half would come to fruition.
We arrived in STL on Saturday afternoon, after a pleasant drive from Kansas City with my wife Kyndal, and our two girls, Madilyn and Abigail. It is amazing to me the difference a car DVD player makes in a child's disposition being stuck in a car for so long. It is truly one of the smartest inventions ever created.
We made it to the Chaifetz Arena around 11:30 in the afternoon to find a very green, warm, and aesthetically beautiful Saint Louis. The psychological effects of such an environment was very positive to my attitude, as I found myself staring off into the baseball fields, brick parkways, and red brick buildings, while the Army humvee blasted abridged rap music. I picked up my bib, got my shirt, stood in awe at the Disney Marathon booth (those medals are HUGE), and hurried back outside to meet my family. After all, I can only expect a minimal amount of patience from little girls...they don't care about the expo...they care about the dog show at Purina Farms.
We drove to Purina Farms (another 40 minute drive) where we met several college friends and their families. Now that is a place to which I will return. Then it was off to a friend's house to visit and eat.
Race Morning
The alarm went off at 4 am, but I had been up several times during the night...not with anxiety, but from sleeping with my 5-year old. But, I would trade sleep any day for getting to cuddle with my daughter. Plus, she loves it, and that means more to me. Into the bathroom, where I sequestered myself so as not to wake up everyone, where I took care of all the human necessities, and dressed. It was going to be warm, so I wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts...no gloves...no arm warmers...quite a change from my training. I ate a Cliff bar (pop tarts are better), drink a bottle of chia fresca, took a salt tablet, drank more water, gatorade, and into the hall to stretch. I walked nine blocks to the starting area, visited the bathroom a couple of time to empty my bladder, and waited at the 7:40 pace corral. I have been running consistently over the last several weeks, and I was prepared to run a sub-1:40 half. Everything was lined up.
Race
After the gun went off (I don't think it was a starting gun, but rather the RD yelling "Go") I began running on top 12,000 other runners, and 12,000 runners running on top of me. It was a typical start. But my bladder has refilled itself, and at mile 2 I made a 45 second pit stop. Past Busch stadium, which is very cool, we headed south towards the Budwieser plant. I was loose, my heart rate was slowed down, and I was breathing calmly. As we turned into the plant, I could smell the hops and even looked up to take in the wonderfully architected buildings.
Exiting the greatest workplace in the world (next to Disneyworld, probably), we headed back downtown, past the starting area, and turned to proceed past St. Patrick's cathedral. On the side of the route were three priests, one of whom was throwing holy water on the runners. I veered off to my right to make sure I received the race-in-progress blessing. I crossed myself with a smile, and hoped none of it was sacreligious.
We ran up Olive (?) on a very long incline. Then things started to go wrong. Around mile 5 - 6, my legs started cramping, not terribly, but unusually. I never cramp during a race, or practice run. Then my energy hit the floor. I had nothing. I took a GU, drank some water, and pushed hard up the hill. I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. It felt like my body was shutting down. So I had to do something I had never done in a race...I started walking.
This would continue nine more times from mile 7 - 12...reduced to a pathetic walk for about 30 seconds, calling myself names to get started again. I became frustrated with my performance, unable to ascertain any information from my body through a systems check, other than something was very wrong.
As we proceeded up Market, I could see our hotel where Kyndal and the the girls would be waiting for me...no way was I going to walk within eyesight of them. So, I pushed hard, crested over the hill, and there they were. I ran over to them, hugged both of my girls, looked at Kyndal, who asked how it was going. I replied, "not well." And then I took off down the hill. Only 1 mile left, and all I had left was what I gave. I kicked up the pace for about a minute, and then had to slow back down. My calfs were cramped, my head was pounding, my hands swollen, feet numb...feet were numb.
Running across the finish line, my first inclination was to rip off my shoes and throw them at the Arch. I was really unhappy. My chip time was 1:45...with walking 10 times. Not good. It only took about 30 minutes to collect myself, get my stomach feeling better, and along the road I walked to get back to the hotel, I was already motivated to fix whatever it was that was wrong (and there seems to be a lot to fix), and get ready for my next half-marathon...Hospital Hill, where the heat and humidity will be tough, and the hills will be more brutal. But the medal was pretty, even though the lesson was ugly.
I will come back to race STL next year, and the PR had better happen...no more bad races.

The Excitment (and Pain) of Running

I spent this morning the same as I do nearly every morning...blindly getting the dog outside and back inside, dressing into my running clothes, and then staring a the thermostat. Why, I wonder, does the thermostat lie to me? But not this morning...cause it's still a bit nippy.

I had taken a few days off from running to let the soreness in my knee subside. A couple trips to and converstations with a pharmasist at Walgreens, and 6 Glucosomine pills later, it was time to get back on the road.

I didn't wear my Garmin GPS Forerunner this morning...it was going to be a fun run, a reaclimate run, and one where I hadn't decided on the distance. Around the neighboorhood and out onto Pryor road, and my knee felt good, meaning I couldn't feel anything. About 1 mile into the run though, a bit of a twinge, but nothing greater than that the entire way.

A recovery run (or reaclimate run) is supposed to be short...for me. So 3.3 miles was the extent of it. I will run again tonight when my body is awake, my legs are ready to burn off the wasted time spent sitting in my desk chair, and the thermostat is asleep.

After all, I have a 50 mile race to run in May...my first ultra event.