First let me apologize for disappearing. I have completed two races since I last posted here. I ran a phenomenal race at Carlsbad (San Diego, CA) and almost broke the 3 hour barrier. I also completed the Columbia Half Marathon this weekend. Please bear with me I will come back and post updates on all the things I’ve been up to but I really need to post this first.

A lot of people visit this blog for advice, curiosity and support. Have you ever wondered if there is a worst case scenario? I just completed a worst-case scenario race. Please, please learn from my mistakes and take note of this race series. These are very poorly run races and are NOT a good idea for inexperienced competitors. 

I will also post a number of blogs in the coming month about specific gear and race strategies you can use for your own benefit.

The good news is that I just finished my 5th half marathon. The bad news you can read for yourself:

This race was an unexpected addition to my race schedule. Instead of doing 6 Southern California half marathons as modified long runs preparing for the LA Marathon in mid March I found myself on a five-month contract in Charlotte, NC. The race calendar in the Charlotte area is quite sparse compared to SoCal so I found myself branching out. It turned out Columbia about 2 hours south had an inaugural race which part of what appears to be a newly-formed series. The Columbia is the first race of the USRA Half Marathon Series (USRARaceSeries.com) a 18-city nationwide Half Marathon Series in mid-to-small size markets. It sounded like a good deal to me so I signed up.

I’ll admit I was a little annoyed when the website stated “no race-day packet pickup” but I drove 2 hours to visit the expo hoping to at least see some new gear or something. The expo had 4 tables. One table sold vitamins, another sold a cube display for medals, a third was for the April Palmetto (again Columbia, SC) half marathon I was planning to run and a fourth which was bland enough to not even register on my radar. I was given my bib, shirt and goody bag with flyers for future USRA series races, a discount flyer for a local massage place, a tourist brochure for Columbia and a couple safety pins.

It also, fortuitously, had a course map.

I had driven down with a friend for company and we returned to Charlotte just in time to realize I didn’t have a timing chip. They’d never mentioned a timing chip to me, I hadn’t seen them being passed out, it wasn’t attached to my bib and none of the info I had from the race mentioned where to find it. I’ve run a half dozen races and I’ve never had that problem so I panicked and called the number on the map. That turned out to be the guy who certified the course for the USATF. Oops. Then I emailed the race from the address on the website. No response. Then I called the Hilton hotel (where the expo was being held)
and asked the desk clerk to please take a message to the race director. No response.

I should have taken that as a sign.

My race day began with a car thermometer that told me it was 27 degrees outside. I was more then a little worried about that because I haven’t run outside in Charlotte yet. Still, I began my chilly drive at 5am with plenty of time for an 8am race start. A Google map search led me right to the race start which was fabulous because it wasn’t the same place as the expo (pretty rare for small races). I found parking easily and couldn’t help but notice the huge banner that screamed “TIMING CHIPS.”

Oh! Eureka!

I picked up my chip, laced it up and was ready to go. Except I didn’t know where to go. There was a large orange cone behind the timing chip table and I was joking with a friend on instant messenger that it was the “unmarked starting cone.” A bullhorn announcement told us the starting line was at the top of the small hill behind us so we all treked over there. No starting banner. No timing pad or carpet or anything that I saw. No clearly deliniated starting point of any kind that I could see. I saw the usual array of unique characters dressed in a wide array of clothing based on 27 degree temperatures and
walked around a bit to keep warm. When the time came to start the race there was no gun. No, there was a guy who shouted “GO!” really loudly. I would have thought it was a joke but all the runners started moving forward so we were off.

I hit the start button on my Garmin when I realized there really was no timing pad. I must have hit it in the right place because the mileage seemed pretty accurate when compared to mile markers.

I started the race, as always, at a run. I ran a good portion of the first mile. I remember looking down at my Garmin and thinking “wow at this pace I’ll smoke my Carlsbad PR!” I knew I couldn’t maintain that because I hadn’t trained (at all) but I was thrilled that my body felt good and I couldn’t feel shin splints. Initially there were cops EVERYWHERE which was great. Officers were directing traffic at intersections, keeping an eye on runners, etc. Imagine my surprise 1.5 miles in when a cop drove about 10 feet behind me on the street for about 2 tenths of a mile in his patrol vehicle. Was I really the last person in the race? It wouldn’t be the first time but I was shocked that a sub 13 minute mile left me in dead last position.

It hadn’t. After awhile, during which time I was very nervous and kept glancing over my shoulder because the police car was 10 feet behind me emitting exhaust in my direction if nothing else. I saw a handful of women stragglers up ahead so I picked up the pace a bit hoping to at least get near them so the cop car guy could see there were several of us together and not follow so closely. Didn’t matter. The officer finally used his bullhorn to order “If you’re going to walk then you have to use the sidewalk!” The posted course time limit was 4 hours, I was exactly 22 minutes and just over 1.5 miles into the race
and they’re telling me to use sidewalks? This was for a course advertised as walker friendly? WTF!

As we all know if a race advertises a course time limit then the roads are closed for the duration of that time limit unless runners are slower then that time limit. In this case a 4 four hour time limit meant the road should have been open to us unless we were slower then an 18:30 minute mile and I was WAY under that at a sub 13 minute. So here I am moving at a pace fast enough to beat the bridge for the Marine Corps Marathon and I am being redirected to the sidewalk for the walker friendly Columbia Half Marathon. The sidewalks were nothing to write home about either. Basically it was a disaster.

Fortunately or unfortuantely I’d already decided to take the race easy because I was scheduled for a second local half marathon in Charlotte next weekend so I moved to the sidewalk confused, but undeterred. The rest of the racers had sped up and I was about to follow then but I happened to notice one woman walking by herself near me. She looked really worried. A quick conversation later I knew her name was Dee, it was her first half marathon, she’d told her husband she wanted to get more active before they retired and her longest workout to date was 6 miles.

The cop following us in the car had freaked her out (heck it freaked me out and I’m a 5 time half marathon finisher). I told her not to worry she was doing fine and she gave me the a tense smile. At that point my first race played back in my head. If I hadn’t had course buddies there was no way I would have finished that thing. I glanced at her one more time, mentally getissoned my faster pace and and told her I’d be her walking buddy. I actually remember saying “don’t worry, I’ll do the race with you.” I have no idea why I made that promise because I’d spoken with her for about 3 minutes and I had hoped to jog at least some of the course but the whole thing at that point was just so surreal I couldn’t bear to leave her behind. I explained my how my Garmin worked, told her we were making phenomenal time. She relaxed. At that point we were walking a 15:30 mile.

Not too far after that we reached a major intersection in the road. The race course crossed a major boulevard. Imagine our surprise when we found no police at all and had to wait for the little white walking man to light up so we could cross like ordinary pedestrians. One street later there was a little two lane suburban road and there was a policeperson directing traffic at that intersection but the previous boulevard had been unmanned. We hadn’t reached the 3 mile marker yet. Ironically we also hadn’t reached a water stop yet although the website specifically stipulated that there would be a water stop every 2 miles. I was already worried about hydrating every two miles. It turned out the race officials had changed water stops to every three miles without making a note of that anywhere. Thank goodness for my 16oz Camelbak bottle.

We reached the first water stop and I actually stopped moving to refill my water and grab extra and extra cup of water and powerade. Dee took one cup of water but I figured she must have a bottle in the little mini backpack she was carrying. Big mistake. The course continued and went on to mile 4. By mile 5 I couldn’t see mile markers anymore I was relying strictly on my Garmin. Mile 6’s water stop was right next to Mile 13 (the second part of the course looped back on the first). There was no water just a bunch of discarded cups on the street. Dee and I also picked up another friend, also a first time half marathoner.

At that point I remember thinking maybe they moved the water stop forward a bit so the traffic from 13 wouldn’t interfere with 6. I’d never heard of that happening before but it was a race of firsts so who knew? I realized we were sunk before mile 7. At one point the road turned and I saw a lone man dressed in jeans wearing an orange vest with a walkie talkie in his hand about a tenth of a mile away from me. I sprinted up to him and after confirming he was course support I told him we hadn’t
had any water at mile 6, I had one buddy who hadn’t had water in almost 4 miles and asked what was going on.

He told me the police had reported there were no more competitors so they shut down. I told him now he knew this was clearly not true. He told me there would be water at the next water stop. I told him “Look if that’s mile 9 this woman can’t wait for over 2 miles to have a drink. I have a bottle she doesn’t. You need to get water out here. At least bottles or something.” He apologized, said it would be taken care of and we continued. Dee thanked me for speaking up and I apologized on behalf of runners, races and competent race directors everywhere. We also picked up two more walkers a woman and her daughter-in-law. The woman was doing her first half marathon and her DIL was her buddy.

It was a convenient time really because we were about to walk down Klapman, a street that I referred to on Facebook as a “Freeway” because the speed limit was 50 mph and cars were clearly exceeding that. There was one coned lane (we assumed for us but there were no markings suggesting that). That was all that was between us and the cars. We walked the equivalent of two exits and then climbed the exit ramp literally taking our lives into our hands because there were no cones and there was no shoulder on the pavement. We reached 9th street and it was worse then the freeway.

Now we were walking against traffic in a coned lane but cars were driving in the coned lane and honking at us. We would walk on grass, gravel, shoulders, or sidewalks. Whatever was available at the moment. I think the only thing that kept us going at that point was there were five of us together. They all appeared relieved to have someone who had done it before and they were delighted with my Garmin because they knew for sure they were moving at a speed fast enough to make it under 4 hours. They could also ask how many miles we’d gone and get an exact response. Viva Garmin.

I remember asking Dee, my initial walking buddy at one point around mile 8 if she wanted to cut part of the course. This was a woman whose longest walk had been 6 miles pre race day. She’d reached mile 8 with only one cup of water in 2 hours and 30 minutes. The sun was shining, she didn’t have a cap or sunglasses. I’ve never cut a course in my life but I was willing to cut here and there if she needed it. She looked at me and said, “I’ve come this far I’m not cutting now.” I think that’s the best example I could give for why I decided to stay with the newbies. They were truly fabulous people.

So we stuck it out.

At mile 9 there was our second (and last) water stop. That water stop consisted of two guys with SUVs, two tables, two orange gatorade coolers and a half dozen filled cups on the table. They were stunned to see us. Apaprently the cops had told them the race was over and they should pack it up and leave. They stayed, not because the course support guy I spoke with at mile 7 called them, but because they felt like they should. They asked if we knew we were the last runners and we said we didn’t know but we thanked them profusely for sticking it out. If it hadn’t been for them…I don’t want to think about it.

At that point the cones had run out before mile nine and we were relying exclusively on the not to scale course map I’d folded into oragami and jammed into my spibelt. The water renewed our resolve and our enthusiasm. I was able to take my first Gu of the race not because I particularly needed the energy but because I felt like I should. I told anecdotes from friends, my own silly running experiences and random advice. My friend Deb Facebooked me a funny cannibal joke and I shared with the group. We got a good laugh. Other friends sent me inspirational running quotes and high fives. I passed them along.

When the map confused us (the map was cheerfully labeled “not to scale”) we asked local residents directions. In one case I flagged down a car and asked how far away our next turn was. We walked narrow roads with no shoulder and a deep ditch filled with water on the bottom on one side. We crossed busy intersections without any support but a standard traffic light. I cannot conceive of what lunacy inspired the USATF guy to certify this disaster as an official course. I realize he anticipated police presence but wow.

By mile 10 we’d lost our most recent walking buddy and her DIL. They’d stopped for a potty break and were about half a mile behind. The two women with me were in no shape to stop so they could catch up, and Dee was looking particularly grim. The DIL in an inspired moment ran to catch up with me so she could ask if they were still on track for time. I remember saying “You have an hour and ten minutes to finish less then 3 miles. At her current pace she could walk it really slowly and still finish.”

Mile 12 was a major boulevard mostly uphill. About halfway up Dee said “I feel nauseous.” I expected it of course, three dixie cups is nowhere near enough to fuel a four hour walk but it was still scary to hear. At that point I still had 10 or so ounces in my Camelbak so I unscrewed the top and gave her the water bottle. I will never forget the look of shock on her face. She kept saying “are you sure you don’t need it?” She was still gripping the water bottle when we reached mile 13 around 15 minutes later.

At 13 I could see the finish area. The post race area was nothing but empty tables. There were two large vans being packed up. I was so unspeakably angry I shouted “Hey which side is the finish for the half marathon” I had to shout it 3 times before they realized I wasn’t kidding. They had to unroll the timing mat for us. I crossed the mat, received my medal and demanded to speak to the race director. One kid asked me for my timing chip which I had laced into my shoe. While unlacing it I was told (again) that the cops had told them ages ago there were no more runners on the course and they had to close it down. You don’t want to know what I think of the Columbia Police Department of Columbia, South Carolina.

I handed over the timing chip and approached the race director. He had two guys wearing tshirts from the sponsoring running store standing next to him. Suffice it to say I tore him a new one to his shock and amazement. He kept repeating he was sorry over and over and telling us he paid for four hours worth of police time. He couldn’t seem to believe we didn’t have police assistance or escorts or ANYTHING.

Just then Dee and our other walking buddy approached me mid-conversation with the RD and interrupted to say “Jesus brought you to us today. He took care of us by sending you. You were our miracle.”

Now understand I have a big mouth there are very few things that will render me speechless but that did it. The RD, his two buddies from Strictly Running (the running store) and I stood there gaping for a minute at this woman who was so moved by my map reading and Garmin updates and water bottle sharing all of which she should have had free and easy as part of her race entry.

And then the race director asked us where we are from.
Answer #1- Columbia, SC
Answer #2- Columbia, SC
Answer #3- California.

He kept apologizing and telling us this was part of a race series and it’s not supposed to be like this because he paid for four hours. He tells us this absolutely will not happen next year and we were all too tired to give a crap so we said nothing and turned to leave. As I’m walking away he asks where I’m from in CA and I say SoCal. He tells me they’re having a race in Stockton in November if I’m willing to give them another chance.

He took our names (since he would have our info on our registrations) but said nothing about refunds, a free race fee, or anything else.

I then had to walk up a steep hill back to my car since the end looked close to the start on the map but remember, map not to scale.

To top it off at around 5pm after the race yesterday I received an email from Strictly Running threatening me with a $30 fine if I don’t return my timing chip in the next 23 hours. The email listed my address publicly along with the email addy of every other person who didn’t have a timing chip returned. I have no doubt my finishing buddies are on that list. Apparently they’re not technologically advanced enough to understand the wisdom of using blind copies on email. I responded to the email
but received a second reminder this morning. I really want them to charge me so I can sue them in small claims court. It would be my absolute pleasure to take this one to court. They’re lucky we’re not suing the police and the race organizers for reckless endangerment.

I’m not sure why I didn’t call 911. I think in any other situation I would have but the police person in the car following me before mile 3 was so aggressive and threatening I just didn’t really want to feel like that again.

As for the race director. I urge everyone and anyone to become familiar with the USRA race list just so you will know what NOT to run. Maybe the police made an error but you know what? I suspect they were give very poor instructions. Perhaps the RD couldn’t control the cops but there is a BIG difference between water stops every two miles (which is listed on their website) and water stops every three. The four hour limit was a joke. The timing chip issue was a disaster and the course was not marked at all after mile 5. There was exactly ONE first aid station also before mile 5. Nobody communicated with anyone else (walkie talkie guy did nothing to get us water and apparently nobody communicated with the guys at the mile 9 water stop).

I’m just grateful I didn’t need my RoadID although I do find it ironic that Road ID sponsored the bibs.

It seems like nowadays everyone and their mom is on the internet. With the possible exception of my mom who is on the internet but only visits three sites regularly (not including this one) and still uses AOL email. Every time I nag her about moving to gmail like the cool kids she reminds me that she has had the same email address for over 10 years and as a result has never lost track of a friend due to a changed address. 

I may be a changeling.

Regardless, one of the perks of the fabulous blogiverse is the public humiliation factor. I’ll be moving to NC for 8 weeks at a minimum and possibly through the end of May. This is both unexpected and worrisome. My joke after moving home to SoCal from Virginia was “hey it turns out I’m allergic to most of the East Coast!” Except I really…am. Now I’ll be leaving on a jet plane and kissing my occasional ability to breathe through my nose goodbye.

I don’t know who manufactures Zyrtec,  Sudafed Sinus or Puffs Plus but if you’re an investor you’ll probably be making a fortune off me. I’d invest myself but I’m broke. That should probably tell you something about how reliable my stock tips are. LOL.

Where was I?

Oh! Public humiliation!

Yes, I love public humiliation! I love it because under normal circumstances I would think:

1) I’m moving from warm to cold

2) I’m moving from dry to a place with rain and snow

3) My 24 hour fitness membership which is good in over a dozen states does NOT work in NC which means I’ll have to pay a second membership fee to join another gym.

4) I’m allergic to most of the trees, grasses and plants of the North Carolina area. I’ll be lucky if I can breathe at all much less run.

BUT

Yes, the BIG but. (No, not the Big Butt, that’s a separate blog)

But I said I am doing a marathon. So far my longest run has been 10 miles. my longest walk has been 13.1 and I’ve got another half marathon this weekend. I’ve got a LOT of training to do between now and March over all but I’m going to do it. Because while I don’t mind looking like a fool in front of friends and family I don’t really want to look like an idiot on the internet.

Is that the most ridiculous nonsensical thing you’ve ever heard? Probably.

Yet it’s true.

And the other perk of the Blogiverse?

Thanks to this blog I am now down TWO count them TWO pants sizes.

I still look like I heifer when I’m running in tights but whatever.

It’s all about the baby steps.

So thanks. {{{HUG}}}

Please note we started this blog in 2008. October of 2008 to be exact. It started out as two friends whining about being fat and lazy. And races. And being Lazy. And medals. And diets. And medals.

Are you noticing any repeats here?

The operative word has become medals. At least in my view.

So you can imagine my shock, excitement and dawning horror when I discovered this little gem.

Meet the 2009 LITTLE ROCK Marathon Medal. You’ve all heard of Little Rock right? It’s famous for a couple things. Wallyworld. A sax playing former president. And HZ!

Looks kind of cool huh?

Kind of? 

The 2009 Little Rock Marathon finisher’s medal is black zinc alloy and is 7 1/4 inches long and 6 1/4 inches wide. The medal features the 2009 circus theme and weighs in at a pound and a half. The medal features the race’s signature globe, race director’s kiss and the “race for every pace” motto. 

Dude. I want that frickin’ medal.

And how is it we’ve been at this for almost a year and a half and I never knew the biggest racing bling in America is in HZ’s hometown???

If I live through LA 2010 I’m heading for Little Rock in 2011.  HZ I hope your couch is really comfy. I won’t even mind Ruby farts.

I’m also at a loss for words.

Me.

At a total loss.

Seriously.

Let me recap my week.

Saturday-

1. Race shortened from 13.1 miles to 3.1 miles. 
2. Receive a delightful blog comment from APRIL
3. Tell my friend Allison all about APRIL’s comment on the phone (whining about lack of race bling was involved) and
4. Decide to blog and talk at the same time…

And of course. Disaster.

I apologize to April who is working on rocking her first 1/2 marathon and a huge thanks to Deb who pointed out that I’m an idiot in a very smooth manner. I’m so sorry.

Oh, but I promised a recap of my week right?

Monday: Talk about job in NC

Tuesday: Talk about job in NC

Wednesday: Get job in NC. Figure out this totally kills my racing schedule and scramble to find races in Charlotte.  

I’m really hoping that was some kind of error and I just haven’t found the right website yet.

Does anyone know where I can find a list of half marathons in Charlotte because I’d sure love one!

And if anyone has tips on how to run in the freezing cold when you’re used to shorts and a tshirt in Southern California that would be greatly appreciated too.

I used to live in VA but my blood was a tad thicker back then. Leaving sunny Cali-for-ni-a in the thick of winter is some kind of crazy!

Oh, and I should add a **WOOO HOOOO!** for HZ who is absolutely kicking diet butt! You look fabulous and I am so incredibly happy for you! (On a side note if that picture was taken in Dallas, I swear to God I don’t remember you being that big).

CarbKiller is moving to Charlotte. How I’m going to live in Charlotte and stay out of Cracker Barrell and Dunkin’ Donuts I’m not entirely sure. Hopefully the enticing race bling of the LA Marathon is motivation enough. At least I can still drink their coffee!

Fat isn’t just a state of body, it’s also a state of mind. And it’s a scary state of mind because once you start thinking of yourself as fat, it’s VERY hard to stop thinking of yourself that way.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t think I was fat. Even when I was a fit 135 lb athlete in high school. I was curvy. I had hips. My coach didn’t approve…so I was fat.

And I’ve been ‘fat’ ever since.

The human mind is a funny thing. 5 years ago, when I was actually at my highest weight ever–a weight that actually (according to the charts for my height) considered MORBIDLY OBESE, I didn’t SEE myself as a fatgirl. Sure, I knew I was squeezing my thighs into the sausage casings I called pants..I knew I was refusing to buy size 20 (or probably 22) clothing. But for whatever reason, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see FAT.

But when I looked at pictures, I couldn’t avoid it anymore.

Big Sexy

This is the fat me. The me that for whatever reason I couldn’t see when I was actually that size, but now that I’m seriously almost 60lbs lighter, this is the me I see in my head now.

It’s fucked up. And not right. And I’m trying to fix that self image with this post.

I still have those same clothes so I had someone take pics of me in them so I can see for myself the progress that I’ve made and hopefully, eventually, I’ll fix the mental image.

Am I finished? Nope. I’ve got another 30 lbs to go. But am I still the fatgirl? Kinda. In my head. But I think it’s time I overcome that, don’t you?

Okay I’ll admit it, I’ve been something of a mopey-pants since Saturday morning. Not because there is anything wrong with a 5K. Alright I’ll stop BSing, there is something seriously wrong with the 5K. There were no medals. Come on people a medal costs like a dollar to make right? And it would look so pretty on the medal tree I’m planning for myself!

Fortunately the other 5 (yes 5 of them) 5K races I tentatively have planned for 2010 all feature race bling. Who are you calling a blingdigger? Me? Oh, okay just checking.  

From the health standpoint my knee is still iffy. Initially it was both knees felt a little…off. Several days into this whole rest + Advil thing I’ve decided left knee is okay, right knee (my dominant leg) is the troublemaker. I wish flogging would straighten out what is clearly my leg’s bad attitude but Tanya Harding proved that doesn’t work.

I know, I should be ashamed of myself for even mentioning her but I’ve been watching old Saturday Night Live reruns.

Anyway, my general disgust over lack of bling, failed race distances and a funky leg have just made me feel…blah.

And then I heard from a lovely woman named April. She posted a comment on my woe-is-me blog from Saturday and basically made my week. She signed up for a half marathon! Just like me! And she clearly must occasionally laugh at my jokes because she lurks here! Just like me!

Okay, I don’t actually lurk here but I might occasionally shake my head at my own craziness, is that weird?

Anyway. THANKS April! You made my day and best of luck on your half marathon! We’d be delighted to post about your training and race adventures if you’d like. (No pressure).

I’d also like to share a facebook picture my friend Carol posted of her weekend’s winnings.

The Donald Medal is for running the Walt Disney World half marathon on Saturday, the Mickey medal is for running the Walt Disney World full marathon on Sunday, and that Goofy medal? You only get that if you do both the same weekend. 39.3 miles in two days gets you a little extra bling. This year’s medal was distinct because it’s the five year anniversary of the WDW Goofy Challenge but how cool are those!

And this year with snow, ice, sleet and generally the worst race conditions I’ve ever seen 55,500 people participated in race weekend events. Just imagine the crowds! A hearty congrats to all the people who ran, walked, jogged, stumbled or just stood on the sidelines and chEARed. You all rock!

Maybe if I survive 2010 I will be willing to try that for 2011. If you’ll excuse me I’m off to take my vitamins.

Today was the Kaiser Permanente Southern California Half Marathon. I know this.

How do I know this?

I picked up my race packet, pinned on my bib (how come I can never get them straight?) and showed up at the starting line.

And while I was suffering through clear skies, perfect temperatures and a gorgeous day to race…

My wimpy friends in Florida were partying their way through rain, sleet, and snow (literally) to rock their Walt Disney World Half Marathons and score Donald Bling.

My start was pretty good actually. I was excited enough to take a picture of a guy wearing pink shoes.

(I mean I wear men’s running shoes so it’s only fair really)

And then snapped a picture of the military guys singing cadences as they smoked the 5K

Then the gun went off, we moved forward and about 3/4 of a mile into my race I knew it was over. My knee was throbbing and I couldn’t imagine walking back to my car much less jogging a half marathon.

Sh**

So ended my half marathon aspirations. The question then became:

Should I continue the half marathon risking further knee bruising and just quit the course when I couldn’t take it anymore?

Or should I just go left instead of straight and continue the 5K course basically bailing out on the half marathon.

I walked back and forth for about 10 minutes trying to decide.

But my crazy ambitious 2010 race schedule loomed in my mind and I decided I wasn’t going to risk an LA Marathon by acting like a fool for a half marathon medal.

I posted a shirt here a couple weeks ago:

This is my motto.

I would rather show up and try then not show up at all. And if I have to choose between finishing a shorter race or futher endangering my health in a longer one that’s a no brainer. I mean, I’m a little bitter because there are no 5K medals for this race, but it’s still a no brainer.

 So I finished the 5K.

And I’ll have a chance to avenge my half marathon DNF in 2 weeks when I do the Carlsbad 1/2 marathon.

A week of knee braces and cross training. I can deal with that.

A HUGE HUGE HUGE congrats to everyone who is cheering or racing during Walt Disney World Marathon weekend. You are all exceptional compeitors for fighting the craziest Florida weather conditions ever!

I ran 10 miles yesterday on pavement and neglected my post run accessories. So I made sure to wear them today:

Yup, those are bags of cheap frozen peas saranwrapped around my knees. They make FABULOUS ice packs because they’re little and don’t have sharp edges like the ice from my icemaker. The good news is they’re cheap and easy to find. They’re also reusable you just want to try to keep them separate from the bags you actually eat because the peas tend to get mushy after many sessions of freezing, wrapping, thawing and re-freezing.  Don’t ask me how I know that.

It could be worse right? I could be in traction!

I should tell you up front I don’t have any pictures for this blog. That’s kind of silly because I did my ten miler at the local park where I’ve done all my running/walking/foot-dragging for the past month. But I’ve never taken any pictures of it, how weird is that?

Anyway, according to my desperately-seeking-LA-Marathon-glory schedule I was supposed to do a 10 miler. Tomorrow. And that would be okay except I’m scheduled for a half marathon exactly a week from today and I didn’t want to do a 10 miler on Sunday followed by a 13.1 marathon on saturday. So today was the big day.

I should probably also add that this is the longest training run I’ve ever done in my life. Other attempts to train for races usually crap out at about 6 miles. I think I did 8 once. But mostly I get bored or hungry and stop. (My 4th grade teacher was right I really do have a short attention span).

I’m trying to be a better person.

Mostly though, I’ve been seduced by bling. Remember how my first two half marathons I was so slow they ran out of medals and they had to send one to me? At the end of my december race they handed me a medal right then and there and it was AWESOME. Now I need to speed it up so I don’t have to stalk the USPS or race directors.

And how committed am I?

I ran a sub 13 minute mile (which is the time I need to maintain in order to run the LA marathon at my preferred pace). I also averaged 14:45 minute miles which is super speedy compared to my previous times.

I’m thrilled with my time and my progress and I think I might actually set a personal record at my next race.

*crossing fingers*

I also had a number of “firsts” today.

First time running a sub 13 minute mile in my first mile of the day (usually my calves kill me for the first three miles)

First time getting stopped by a woman in a van so I could give her directions to Costco. 

First time witnessing a car accident. A REALLY dumb lady got into a head on collision with a car who had right of way because she was too distracted to see the other car. Both cars were Lexuses and you know that’s going to be expensive. Sucks for her insurance!

Kind of makes your day look better doesn’t it?

I had a quote on my bedroom wall in high school. I knew it was a speech by Teddy Roosevelt but this was before the days of google where you could type in a snippet of a quote and find out who said it, where and when.

I would heart Google for that alone.

It got to the point where the quote had been on my wall for such a long time I didn’t even notice it anymore so when the time came to pack for college I crumpled it up along with other stuff and tossed it out.

I found it again not too long ago. Not for myself but to print and share with a friend who allows the doubts of others to infect her spirit and enthusiasm. Finding it again reminded me of the doubters in my life as well.

Some people mean well and others really don’t. 

Regardless of who or what is at issue, however, there is one inalienable truth (ohhh SAT word!). You have the power to achieve for yourself what others are unlikely to ever imagine for you.

The Man in the Arena is the title of a speech given by Teddy Roosevelt at the Sorbonne in Paris, France on April 23, 1910.

The speech is notable for the extended passage:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Dare Greatly and have a FANTASTIC year!