Took me long enough… but the saga continues! (Thank you for the nagging, thou self-proclaimed “fans.”) =)
Also, as an extra effort to make this post useful for future marathoners who may read this (and less wholly narcissistic--wink!), I've made a few of the tips Coach Rick provided that I found the very most useful larger than the rest of the text. If you're planning to run a race of any length, I pass these on with my personal hearty seal of approval--as a novice, I would have been lost without this advice!
Without further ado, the continuation:
Bozeman, Montana (home of my college years) is approximately 2,000 miles from Boston, Massachusetts. To have a spectator from there watch me run my first ever race is--to say the least--a pretty big frickin’ hairy deal.
But being anything close to a decent host is not an easy task the weekend of your first marathon.
Coach Rick’s first piece of advise for the Boston Marathon:
“On Sunday--the day before the marathon--stay off your feet as much as you possibly can. You’re going to spend enough time on them Monday.”
I knew this wasn’t entirely possible for me. I had returned from NYC a day before my spectator would--mostly to pick up my number, but also to unpack, prepare my apartment for my first ever Boston visitor, and make the obligatory trip to the grocery store before company arrives. Little did I know a simple trip to the grocery store would tax my muscles more than it should have.
Knowing I had more to buy than I could comfortably carry home myself, I intentionally bought much more than I could carry, resolving to pay the extra $5 and take my culinary treasures home in a cab. By the time I was done accumulating items in Shaw’s, it was raining. Rain = suddenly no cabs. And since I had been busy cleaning up until the last moment before I could go shopping, procrastination = no time to wait for cabs before it was time to meet Brian at the bus terminal. All factors considered = panic!
With few choices, I loaded all of my groceries onto my arms as best I could and headed home. I truly had too much to do it anywhere near comfortably (and remember, it is now raining!)--I had no choice but to stop several times to give my arms a break. All that training of my legs over the past few months had done very little for my spaghetti arms... but at least a few particularly wet training runs had mostly immunized my psyche to rain.
Enter the first of much support from kind strangers that weekend. A man walked past me seemingly content in his iPod isolation--only to stop, turn around, and ask if I needed help carrying my bags. He carried most of the load (and informed me of the benefits of peapod.com) just short of a few blocks to my house, where I was able to lug my heavy load the remaining yards. Little did I know just how much similar support would await me en route from Hopkinton to Boston the following day.
I hurriedly unpacked groceries and hurried off to meet Brian on the red line--resolving to stay off my feet from thenceforth.
Good for me; less good for him. My unfortunate visitor’s first ever night in Boston was spent watching movies on the couch in my apartment.
“Don’t try anything new in the days leading up to the marathon. Specifically, whatever foods you’ve found work for you the night before long runs--stick with them.”
Once again (are you sensing a theme here?)--my poor guest! I took Coach Rick’s second piece of advice to heart and stuck with my usual pre-long run dinner: what Scrubs terms “brinner.” Brian joined me for French toast, eggs over-easy, and a strawberry-yogurt smoothie with traces of amusement but no trace of complaint.
Full of energy--partially from the arrival of my friend and partially from the pending madness that was to follow the next day--I had no desire to sleep for several hours after we supped. Luckily, Coach Rick had again wisely prepared me for that very scenario:
“Saturday night is your most important night of sleep. You don’t even have to go to bed early on Saturday--just make sure to sleep in Sunday morning. One thing is for sure: you’re not going to sleep very well the night before the marathon.”
I doubt I need to keep saying it at this point--but again, Coach was right. I didn’t bother even attempting to hit the hay early, knowing I would lay awake with anxious insomnia anyway. Futurama happened to appear on Comedy Central, so Brian and I stayed up into the wee hours of Monday A.M. killing time with Leela and Bender, and keeping my mind from the monumental task that loomed before me.
I was somehow so successful not thinking about the marathon, in fact, that when I finally decided the time had come to retire to dreamland, I realized I hadn’t given my out-of-town spectator a single useful instruction about making his way around Boston for his first time the following day. Hallelujah for having a visitor far better with directions than I am--I provided little more information than “I’m told there’s a good sushi place by Back Bay,” and “Stay away from the Copley T-stop because it’s closed,” and he somehow entertained himself without getting lost the entire day on Monday, as I ran my brains out.
But I’m getting ahead of myself...
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
episode 2: the expo
Next on the weekend's frenetic agenda was making the obligatory stop at the 2010 Boston Marathon Expo to pick up my bib for the race. Laura, Erin, and I agreed long before my NYC bus tickets were purchased that hitting the Expo sooner rather than later would be far better for all three of our psyches. Since the Expo was open Friday through Sunday--and since I wouldn't return to Boston until noon on Saturday--it was decided that I'd go straight from getting off the bus to getting on the T in order to meet them for bib pick-up.
Brian, Chris and I stayed out fairly late our last night in the city, catching West Side Story on Broadway (wahoo!) and dinner at a hip/exotic/techno-beat-underwritten Vietnamese restaurant. We returned to the hotel dangerously close to 2 AM--where I set my alarm for 5:30 AM to make absolutely sure I'd find my 7:30 bus. Long day ahead.
By the time my bus rolled into South Station at noon, my body was convinced that it must be time for bed. Lucky for me, I have the greatest friends, period. Erin and Laura both greeted me at the Park Street station with tokens of marathon goodness and the loveliest of sentiments that made even the afternoon drizzle seem sunny. (Yes, I will be that sappy--they turned my nearing-cranky mood completely around!) We traveled together to the Hynes Convention Center, where we waited for a few teammates to join us.
Up until this point in this blog, I don't think I've mentioned that aside from running and fundraising for Boston Partners in Education, I also serve as the team's coordinator. Part of my VISTA position for Boston Partners includes attending BAA meetings, coordinating group runs with the other nonprofit teams in our Coalition, answering our other runners' questions, monitoring fundraising, etc.
Thanks to this position, I've gotten to know Laurelin--our out-of-town runner and a former employee of Boston Partners--quite well via emails back and forth, but I had never actually met her. As Erin, Laura, Todd, and I all waited at the Convention Center, there suddenly appeared a young lady with Jess whose Facebook picture I knew quite well. The spirit of marathon love continued, and Laurelin and I hugged each other as new friends united by this crazy undertaking. (Quick shout-out to her for being so lovely--you rock, Laurelin!)
Together, the six of us braved the crowds of runners who continued to filter into the Hynes. First up and most importantly, we needed our bibs! We navigated through the masses to the appropriate table.
Picking up our numbers felt very much like graduating--finally getting your diploma after months of preparation for such a moment. And to apparently make absolutely sure that such an analogy applied, Jess stood by each of us as we received our bib to photograph the moment with her iPhone. Below is my shot, which she snapped immediately before I snapped about having my picture taken looking like I just got off of a bus from NYC. (Sorry, Jess. I really do love you.) =)
Our number packets (mine pictured below) contained not only our bib, but the ever-important chip that we would lace onto our shoes to track our progress on Marathon Day, as well as illustrated instructions for attaching such chips. I mention this now because such instructions will likely make multiple appearances in my next post. It involves me looking comically foolish--you will be entertained.
Once each of us had a packet in hand, we moved on to pick up our complimentary, official 2010 Boston Marathon shirts--which Laura refused to physically handle because, as she will tell you in her pre-marathon blog post, Laura will not touch any marathon-branded apparel prior to the marathon. Very superstitious...
Number packets, t-shirts, and official Boston Marathon bags all now in hand, we imposed on a passerby to snap a group photo with our newly obtained treasure:
back row from left: me, Erin, Laurelin, Todd
front row from left: Laura, Jess
Adorable. =)
Now, as any Boston Marathoner can tell you, that's only the beginning of the Boston Marathon Expo Experience. There are giant rooms that follow the two required stops our group had just hit--rooms that are full of samples and merchandise and last-minute advice and fellow runners and preachers and cryers and circus clowns and kittens and banana cream pies. I'll bet.
Okay, so I didn't actually go to the rest of the Expo.
Quite exhausted, I excused myself from the group and made my way--for the first time since NYC--back to my apartment. I was tired. And more than any PowerBar samples, free water bottles, or overpriced Adidas merchandise, what I really needed two days before the 2010 Boston Marathon was sleep.
Expo. Check.
Brian, Chris and I stayed out fairly late our last night in the city, catching West Side Story on Broadway (wahoo!) and dinner at a hip/exotic/techno-beat-underwritten Vietnamese restaurant. We returned to the hotel dangerously close to 2 AM--where I set my alarm for 5:30 AM to make absolutely sure I'd find my 7:30 bus. Long day ahead.
By the time my bus rolled into South Station at noon, my body was convinced that it must be time for bed. Lucky for me, I have the greatest friends, period. Erin and Laura both greeted me at the Park Street station with tokens of marathon goodness and the loveliest of sentiments that made even the afternoon drizzle seem sunny. (Yes, I will be that sappy--they turned my nearing-cranky mood completely around!) We traveled together to the Hynes Convention Center, where we waited for a few teammates to join us.
Up until this point in this blog, I don't think I've mentioned that aside from running and fundraising for Boston Partners in Education, I also serve as the team's coordinator. Part of my VISTA position for Boston Partners includes attending BAA meetings, coordinating group runs with the other nonprofit teams in our Coalition, answering our other runners' questions, monitoring fundraising, etc.
Thanks to this position, I've gotten to know Laurelin--our out-of-town runner and a former employee of Boston Partners--quite well via emails back and forth, but I had never actually met her. As Erin, Laura, Todd, and I all waited at the Convention Center, there suddenly appeared a young lady with Jess whose Facebook picture I knew quite well. The spirit of marathon love continued, and Laurelin and I hugged each other as new friends united by this crazy undertaking. (Quick shout-out to her for being so lovely--you rock, Laurelin!)
Together, the six of us braved the crowds of runners who continued to filter into the Hynes. First up and most importantly, we needed our bibs! We navigated through the masses to the appropriate table.
Picking up our numbers felt very much like graduating--finally getting your diploma after months of preparation for such a moment. And to apparently make absolutely sure that such an analogy applied, Jess stood by each of us as we received our bib to photograph the moment with her iPhone. Below is my shot, which she snapped immediately before I snapped about having my picture taken looking like I just got off of a bus from NYC. (Sorry, Jess. I really do love you.) =)
Our number packets (mine pictured below) contained not only our bib, but the ever-important chip that we would lace onto our shoes to track our progress on Marathon Day, as well as illustrated instructions for attaching such chips. I mention this now because such instructions will likely make multiple appearances in my next post. It involves me looking comically foolish--you will be entertained.
Once each of us had a packet in hand, we moved on to pick up our complimentary, official 2010 Boston Marathon shirts--which Laura refused to physically handle because, as she will tell you in her pre-marathon blog post, Laura will not touch any marathon-branded apparel prior to the marathon. Very superstitious...
Number packets, t-shirts, and official Boston Marathon bags all now in hand, we imposed on a passerby to snap a group photo with our newly obtained treasure:
back row from left: me, Erin, Laurelin, Todd front row from left: Laura, Jess
Adorable. =)
Now, as any Boston Marathoner can tell you, that's only the beginning of the Boston Marathon Expo Experience. There are giant rooms that follow the two required stops our group had just hit--rooms that are full of samples and merchandise and last-minute advice and fellow runners and preachers and cryers and circus clowns and kittens and banana cream pies. I'll bet.
Okay, so I didn't actually go to the rest of the Expo.
Quite exhausted, I excused myself from the group and made my way--for the first time since NYC--back to my apartment. I was tired. And more than any PowerBar samples, free water bottles, or overpriced Adidas merchandise, what I really needed two days before the 2010 Boston Marathon was sleep.
Expo. Check.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
episode 1: nyc
Warning: The following series of blog posts is written with my mom in mind. I fully understand if most of you aren't particularly interested in the level of detail I hope to provide concerning this monumental day in my life. But Mom will. =)
To keep the details manageable, I'm going to tackle the day (and days prior) in parts. First up--my trip to NYC!
And one more quick note before I begin: Big thanks to all of my friends, coworkers, and fellow runners for sharing their photos with me! The series of posts to follow would be far less complete had you smart people who remembered to bring cameras not shared your wealth, and I thank you.
At 6:30 AM on Thursday, April 15--exactly four days and four hours before the start of the 2010 Boston Marathon--I closed the door to my apartment behind me, giant backpack strapped to my back and bus ticket confirmation email in hand. I was on my way to meet a friend of mine visiting from Montana in NYC to check out the Big Apple for the first time. Goodness gracious.
That marked the beginning of the most eventful weekend of my life. Thankfully, as hoped for, the sights and sounds of the city served as the perfect distraction/replacement for stressing out about the marathon. Some photographic, notable distractions included attending a live taping of The Colbert Report,
checking out Rockefeller Center,
exploring Central Park,
and looking like an utter tourist in Grand Central Station.
As predicted, maintaining anything resembling a normal diet was quite a challenge in a new city. (Finding a place to run my scheduled five miles Thursday would have been up there as well, but I decided early on that walking all over the city all day would suffice.)
Brian, Chris (pictured above in blue), and I went to a lovely Thai restaurant after the Colbert taping. I looked through the menu at a bunch of new and tempting items, vaguely thinking that I had never tried duck before, and surely it wouldn't hurt to try something new with a few days yet to go before the marathon... even if it didn't agree with me, I would have more than a few hours to get it out of my system... and I was finally in my very most dreamed-of city, after all... what better place to try new things...
But it was there. Looming over me. Over Chris's right shoulder--sitting on the bar that stood alongside our table--was a business card holder. And on the cards in that holder read three words that would have meant nothing to me six months ago, but now--they watched, cautioned, advised:
For anyone not on my marathon team, that requires more than three words of explanation. My coach--Coach Rick, who I've mentioned in this blog a few times before--is now the coach of a team that consists of five different nonprofits: Boston Partners, Bottom Line, the Boston Debate League, Museum of Science, and The Esplanade. Before coaching this group that has affectionately come to be called The Coalition, Coach Rick worked with one of the Boston Athletic Association's larger legacy charities, The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. And the name of their team? Indeed. Team in Training.
Coach Rick was watching over me. And I played it safe with a chicken dish. =)
Friday morning arrived shortly after our Thai meal (actually, as late as we ate dinner there, it may have arrived during the meal), and with it came the start of my three-day pre-marathon carb load. Chris--Brian and I's personal guide to a whirlwind tour of the city--found out about my Carb Quest and did me the great favor of taking it very seriously.
When the time came for Friday lunch, Chris marched me straight to a delicious pasta bar where I got to choose my own pasta, my own sauce, and my own extra additions. (Shut up; it was exciting.) =)
Our lunches in hand, Brian and I took to our usual role of trusting that Chris knew where he was going, and we followed him for several blocks to some location which we would only discover once we had arrived. And Chris took to his usual role of choosing the perfect spot. He took us straight to one of the red tables pictured here:
And so I sat--in the middle of Times Square--and carb-loaded for the 2010 Boston Marathon.
Life is good.
To keep the details manageable, I'm going to tackle the day (and days prior) in parts. First up--my trip to NYC!
And one more quick note before I begin: Big thanks to all of my friends, coworkers, and fellow runners for sharing their photos with me! The series of posts to follow would be far less complete had you smart people who remembered to bring cameras not shared your wealth, and I thank you.
At 6:30 AM on Thursday, April 15--exactly four days and four hours before the start of the 2010 Boston Marathon--I closed the door to my apartment behind me, giant backpack strapped to my back and bus ticket confirmation email in hand. I was on my way to meet a friend of mine visiting from Montana in NYC to check out the Big Apple for the first time. Goodness gracious.
That marked the beginning of the most eventful weekend of my life. Thankfully, as hoped for, the sights and sounds of the city served as the perfect distraction/replacement for stressing out about the marathon. Some photographic, notable distractions included attending a live taping of The Colbert Report,
checking out Rockefeller Center,
exploring Central Park,
and looking like an utter tourist in Grand Central Station.
As predicted, maintaining anything resembling a normal diet was quite a challenge in a new city. (Finding a place to run my scheduled five miles Thursday would have been up there as well, but I decided early on that walking all over the city all day would suffice.)
Brian, Chris (pictured above in blue), and I went to a lovely Thai restaurant after the Colbert taping. I looked through the menu at a bunch of new and tempting items, vaguely thinking that I had never tried duck before, and surely it wouldn't hurt to try something new with a few days yet to go before the marathon... even if it didn't agree with me, I would have more than a few hours to get it out of my system... and I was finally in my very most dreamed-of city, after all... what better place to try new things...
But it was there. Looming over me. Over Chris's right shoulder--sitting on the bar that stood alongside our table--was a business card holder. And on the cards in that holder read three words that would have meant nothing to me six months ago, but now--they watched, cautioned, advised:
TEAM IN TRAINING
For anyone not on my marathon team, that requires more than three words of explanation. My coach--Coach Rick, who I've mentioned in this blog a few times before--is now the coach of a team that consists of five different nonprofits: Boston Partners, Bottom Line, the Boston Debate League, Museum of Science, and The Esplanade. Before coaching this group that has affectionately come to be called The Coalition, Coach Rick worked with one of the Boston Athletic Association's larger legacy charities, The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. And the name of their team? Indeed. Team in Training.
Coach Rick was watching over me. And I played it safe with a chicken dish. =)
Friday morning arrived shortly after our Thai meal (actually, as late as we ate dinner there, it may have arrived during the meal), and with it came the start of my three-day pre-marathon carb load. Chris--Brian and I's personal guide to a whirlwind tour of the city--found out about my Carb Quest and did me the great favor of taking it very seriously.
When the time came for Friday lunch, Chris marched me straight to a delicious pasta bar where I got to choose my own pasta, my own sauce, and my own extra additions. (Shut up; it was exciting.) =)
Our lunches in hand, Brian and I took to our usual role of trusting that Chris knew where he was going, and we followed him for several blocks to some location which we would only discover once we had arrived. And Chris took to his usual role of choosing the perfect spot. He took us straight to one of the red tables pictured here:
And so I sat--in the middle of Times Square--and carb-loaded for the 2010 Boston Marathon.
Life is good.
more laurel outlook fame!
Marathon Post is still in progress, but in the meantime...Larry Tanglen at the Laurel Outlook (my hometown newspaper) was kind enough to compose a follow-up article about my marathon completion--and then put it on the front page! Again!
The complete text can be found here:
http://www.laureloutlook.com/articles/2010/04/21/news/big_story/01big.txt
...and if you're like the folks who have already seen this, you'll get quite a kick out of one of my mother's comments... Mother... =)
Thank you so much, Larry! This article makes me impressed with myself! =D
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
26.2
Complete Marathon Experience post is pending--I don't want to throw one together while tired and short-change it. =)
In the meantime, please enjoy one of my favorite pre-race photos snapped in the Athletes' Village (from left: me, Erin, & Laura.)
Truly a phenomenal experience--details pending!!
In the meantime, please enjoy one of my favorite pre-race photos snapped in the Athletes' Village (from left: me, Erin, & Laura.)
Truly a phenomenal experience--details pending!!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
6, 5, 4...
At some point, I stopped having to click the "Extended Forecast" link to obsessively check the weather on April 19, and it started to show up in the 5-day forecast. The countdown to Patriots' Day continues.
The following paragraph is the most important thing I have ever posted on this blog:
As the Day of Reckoning nears, let me sincerely thank everyone who has supported me through this adventure. If you sent me a text, sent me a check, stopped by my desk to ask about last weekend's run, stopped by my blog to leave a comment, donated to my Firstgiving page, helped with a water stop, ran alongside me in a weekday run, listened to me ramble incessantly about yesterday's weekday run, or encouraged me to undertake this crazy adventure in the first place--you rock. I couldn't have conquered the training and fundraising undertaking without the outpouring of support from family, friends, and new friends. As wonderful a circle of people with which I know I'm surrounded, your support has been even greater than I imagined. Thank you.
And thanks to all of you, I have raised $4,100.00 for Boston Partners in Education so far! That is truly incredible, and I can assure you that you're supporting a nonprofit with a wonderful mission--as well as supporting me! Double thank you for helping me to surpass my fundraising goal.
As I type, I am currently on my way to New York City for the first time (buses with Wi-Fi--who knew?) A somewhat last minute, pre-marathon weekend out of town is proving to be both a fantastic and terrible decision.
Fantastic! Speedy vacation-planning has done an incredible job of keeping my mind off of the marathon. Someone at work came by and asked if I was ready for Monday; I replied with genuine wonder, "What's Monday?" I even forgot to check the April 19 forecast yesterday until reminded about it by a friend! Though now that I've just reminded myself, perhaps I'll go check it again now...
I'm especially thankful for the unexpected blessing of distraction as I watch a few of my teammates... I don't want to say "freak out," but it's clear that the Boston is the prominent thing on their minds. Don't get me wrong, I'm at my highest point of freaking out (now I'll say it!) as well, but the anxiety is mostly for the NYC trip at this point. It will be switched back to the Marathon the moment get off of the bus in Boston on Saturday, get on the T, and go directly to the Expo to pick up my bib.
Terrible! There are certain things you need to do the weekend before a marathon, and being out of town makes many of them a bit more difficult. For example, Coach Rick's recommendation of sticking to foods you know will be nearly impossible without access to my kitchen at home. Carb loading three days prior to the race would also be easier if I was doing the grocery shopping, but I imagine ordering pasta Friday night should take care of that. It also helps that Saturday and Sunday will be spent back in Boston, so I'll be able to stay off my feet on Sunday as Coach also wisely recommended. And anyway, finally getting a taste of NYC = so worth it!
In case I don't have a chance to post again before the Marathon, another sincere thanks to everyone who has kept up on this blog! It always means a lot to me when folks ask a question about something I posted or leave a comment. So, specifically to you reader, thanks! I honor you with this creepy baby:
Wish me luck in the Big Apple, and I swear my mind will be much more focused on the marathon next time I post. (Read: don't you worry; we'll get back to the million-word posts again soon enough!)
=)
The following paragraph is the most important thing I have ever posted on this blog:
As the Day of Reckoning nears, let me sincerely thank everyone who has supported me through this adventure. If you sent me a text, sent me a check, stopped by my desk to ask about last weekend's run, stopped by my blog to leave a comment, donated to my Firstgiving page, helped with a water stop, ran alongside me in a weekday run, listened to me ramble incessantly about yesterday's weekday run, or encouraged me to undertake this crazy adventure in the first place--you rock. I couldn't have conquered the training and fundraising undertaking without the outpouring of support from family, friends, and new friends. As wonderful a circle of people with which I know I'm surrounded, your support has been even greater than I imagined. Thank you.
And thanks to all of you, I have raised $4,100.00 for Boston Partners in Education so far! That is truly incredible, and I can assure you that you're supporting a nonprofit with a wonderful mission--as well as supporting me! Double thank you for helping me to surpass my fundraising goal.
As I type, I am currently on my way to New York City for the first time (buses with Wi-Fi--who knew?) A somewhat last minute, pre-marathon weekend out of town is proving to be both a fantastic and terrible decision.
Fantastic! Speedy vacation-planning has done an incredible job of keeping my mind off of the marathon. Someone at work came by and asked if I was ready for Monday; I replied with genuine wonder, "What's Monday?" I even forgot to check the April 19 forecast yesterday until reminded about it by a friend! Though now that I've just reminded myself, perhaps I'll go check it again now...
I'm especially thankful for the unexpected blessing of distraction as I watch a few of my teammates... I don't want to say "freak out," but it's clear that the Boston is the prominent thing on their minds. Don't get me wrong, I'm at my highest point of freaking out (now I'll say it!) as well, but the anxiety is mostly for the NYC trip at this point. It will be switched back to the Marathon the moment get off of the bus in Boston on Saturday, get on the T, and go directly to the Expo to pick up my bib.
Terrible! There are certain things you need to do the weekend before a marathon, and being out of town makes many of them a bit more difficult. For example, Coach Rick's recommendation of sticking to foods you know will be nearly impossible without access to my kitchen at home. Carb loading three days prior to the race would also be easier if I was doing the grocery shopping, but I imagine ordering pasta Friday night should take care of that. It also helps that Saturday and Sunday will be spent back in Boston, so I'll be able to stay off my feet on Sunday as Coach also wisely recommended. And anyway, finally getting a taste of NYC = so worth it!
In case I don't have a chance to post again before the Marathon, another sincere thanks to everyone who has kept up on this blog! It always means a lot to me when folks ask a question about something I posted or leave a comment. So, specifically to you reader, thanks! I honor you with this creepy baby:
Wish me luck in the Big Apple, and I swear my mind will be much more focused on the marathon next time I post. (Read: don't you worry; we'll get back to the million-word posts again soon enough!)
=)
Monday, April 12, 2010
springsteen narrates the boston course
I don't necessarily recommend that my fellow teammates watch this, in case it has the same effect on their nerves that it did on mine... but here's a video someone created of the entire Boston Marathon course in high-speed. Very cool. And now my stomach hurts.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
training pain & insane rain
Taper Tantrum
We are now in the taper period of training--our weekday short runs and weekend long runs are getting progressively shorter. The idea is to allow our muscles time to rest before the Marathon, although our coach encouraged us to incorporate faster speeds and hills into the shorter runs.
Erin and I took that advice seriously. I joked with her that since we're now down from 8-mile morning runs to 4, she made it her business to design The Most Difficult 4-Miler Possible. After running back-to-back Somerville hills in the pouring rain at a pace quite quicker than our usual AM jog, I feel pretty entitled to capitalize the title of that route! =)
According to my coach and several other folks who have run a marathon, the taper is tough on your brain. Our coach's wife told us--perfectly deadpan--that during the final weeks before the marathon, we should (I quote) "get a hobby." Otherwise, we would drive ourselves crazy worrying that we hadn't trained hard enough or, worse yet, act on that worry by running more than we should. The rest is the most crucial thing at this point.
Happily, the taper comes at a time in my work-life where this is a non-issue. We've been busily planning the Boston Partners in Education annual Gala, so work has been occupying the place in my mind that might otherwise stress over training.
It was my body--not my mind--that decided to throw a tantrum.
About a week after the 21-miler, Baby-Runner [read: me] got her very first injury. Anytime I either walked or ran on it, my left leg hurt. This, I did make time to stress about. How could I possibly get hurt now, so close to the April 19? What I don't have time for it to recover? Should I stop running for a while, and deal with the fear that I'm not training enough in the final weeks right before the big day? Or should I continue running through the pain, and deal with the fear that I'm not giving myself a chance to get better before the big day?
My first major frustration was that this came during the taper. Never mind that pain during tapers is apparently common. If my injury was the result of a blistering long run completed in record time, I could deal with that. It would be a badge of honor, one of those well-earned bruises you want to make sure people see. But what pride could I possibly have in an injury that had apparently resulted from a couple of four- or five-mile runs?
The second (and more practical) frustration was my lack of vocabulary to describe what was wrong. I knew that my left leg hurt, and I knew it wasn't shin splints--thanks to my old pair of Nikes, that was the only runner's ailment I could put a name to.
I walked into Erin's office one day and said, a bit defeated, "I am asking you this because you're smarter than me." I described what hurt, when it hurt, and approximately how much it hurt. She diagnosed the problem to be with my left IT band.
Once I knew what to call it, I emailed my coach to see what course of action I should take. He recommended to eat fresh pineapple and papaya (natural anti-inflammatories), take more rest and cross days, avoid hills and speed for a while, and ice the leg in question.
This leads me to my third frustration--forcing myself to actually take that advice. I secretly planned to listen to the icing and pineapple parts (I love pineapple anyway--no downside there!) and push the rest aside for awhile, hoping that just those two things would make the pain go away. So when the time came for last Saturday's long run, I told Erin and Laura I would meet them as usual. My IT band had other plans: Just the short jog over to our starting point was a painful one, and I gave up and turned around. The rest of my boring Saturday consisted of a couch, a bag of ice, and a marathon of Seinfeld.
That was four days ago. I'm happy to announce that since taking another day off, cross-training at the gym a bit, and finally taking the time to properly stretch out the muscle (again, thanks to Erin for showing me how), the left leg is healing nicely. It's already gotten to the point that it no longer hurts to walk, and I was especially encouraged after yesterday's run to work, when it didn't ache any more intensely at the end of the run than it did at the beginning. I'm hoping that with continued proper stretching, I'll be back to 100% by the end of the week.
Early Morning Swim
In other news, you may have heard: There's been flooding in Boston.
Last week, the clouds clearly didn't want to stop raining--and most days, I can assure you that it was not particularly light rain. That didn't stop Erin and I from running to work per usual, and we've got post-run photos in my new favorite Central Square coffee shop to prove it!
Erin's water-resistant coat shows the water droplets better,
but my jacket isn't usually this dark a shade of purple...
The picture both Erin and I wish we had is a snapshot of one girl's face during the very same Most Difficult 4-Miler Possible run. We were descending Walnut St. in the midst of that day's downpour, and we passed a girl that gave us the most blatant "ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?!" look ever.
The short answer, Dearest Walnut St. Girl, is yes.
We are now in the taper period of training--our weekday short runs and weekend long runs are getting progressively shorter. The idea is to allow our muscles time to rest before the Marathon, although our coach encouraged us to incorporate faster speeds and hills into the shorter runs.
Erin and I took that advice seriously. I joked with her that since we're now down from 8-mile morning runs to 4, she made it her business to design The Most Difficult 4-Miler Possible. After running back-to-back Somerville hills in the pouring rain at a pace quite quicker than our usual AM jog, I feel pretty entitled to capitalize the title of that route! =)
According to my coach and several other folks who have run a marathon, the taper is tough on your brain. Our coach's wife told us--perfectly deadpan--that during the final weeks before the marathon, we should (I quote) "get a hobby." Otherwise, we would drive ourselves crazy worrying that we hadn't trained hard enough or, worse yet, act on that worry by running more than we should. The rest is the most crucial thing at this point.
Happily, the taper comes at a time in my work-life where this is a non-issue. We've been busily planning the Boston Partners in Education annual Gala, so work has been occupying the place in my mind that might otherwise stress over training.
It was my body--not my mind--that decided to throw a tantrum.
About a week after the 21-miler, Baby-Runner [read: me] got her very first injury. Anytime I either walked or ran on it, my left leg hurt. This, I did make time to stress about. How could I possibly get hurt now, so close to the April 19? What I don't have time for it to recover? Should I stop running for a while, and deal with the fear that I'm not training enough in the final weeks right before the big day? Or should I continue running through the pain, and deal with the fear that I'm not giving myself a chance to get better before the big day?
My first major frustration was that this came during the taper. Never mind that pain during tapers is apparently common. If my injury was the result of a blistering long run completed in record time, I could deal with that. It would be a badge of honor, one of those well-earned bruises you want to make sure people see. But what pride could I possibly have in an injury that had apparently resulted from a couple of four- or five-mile runs?
The second (and more practical) frustration was my lack of vocabulary to describe what was wrong. I knew that my left leg hurt, and I knew it wasn't shin splints--thanks to my old pair of Nikes, that was the only runner's ailment I could put a name to.
I walked into Erin's office one day and said, a bit defeated, "I am asking you this because you're smarter than me." I described what hurt, when it hurt, and approximately how much it hurt. She diagnosed the problem to be with my left IT band.
Once I knew what to call it, I emailed my coach to see what course of action I should take. He recommended to eat fresh pineapple and papaya (natural anti-inflammatories), take more rest and cross days, avoid hills and speed for a while, and ice the leg in question.
This leads me to my third frustration--forcing myself to actually take that advice. I secretly planned to listen to the icing and pineapple parts (I love pineapple anyway--no downside there!) and push the rest aside for awhile, hoping that just those two things would make the pain go away. So when the time came for last Saturday's long run, I told Erin and Laura I would meet them as usual. My IT band had other plans: Just the short jog over to our starting point was a painful one, and I gave up and turned around. The rest of my boring Saturday consisted of a couch, a bag of ice, and a marathon of Seinfeld.
That was four days ago. I'm happy to announce that since taking another day off, cross-training at the gym a bit, and finally taking the time to properly stretch out the muscle (again, thanks to Erin for showing me how), the left leg is healing nicely. It's already gotten to the point that it no longer hurts to walk, and I was especially encouraged after yesterday's run to work, when it didn't ache any more intensely at the end of the run than it did at the beginning. I'm hoping that with continued proper stretching, I'll be back to 100% by the end of the week.
Early Morning Swim
In other news, you may have heard: There's been flooding in Boston.
Last week, the clouds clearly didn't want to stop raining--and most days, I can assure you that it was not particularly light rain. That didn't stop Erin and I from running to work per usual, and we've got post-run photos in my new favorite Central Square coffee shop to prove it!
Erin's water-resistant coat shows the water droplets better,but my jacket isn't usually this dark a shade of purple...
The picture both Erin and I wish we had is a snapshot of one girl's face during the very same Most Difficult 4-Miler Possible run. We were descending Walnut St. in the midst of that day's downpour, and we passed a girl that gave us the most blatant "ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?!" look ever.
The short answer, Dearest Walnut St. Girl, is yes.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
TWENTY-ONE MILES!
I'm a bit sorry for the unimaginative title of this post--I thought of a few more creative than that, but none more satisfying. =)Last, last Saturday (3/27) was a 21-mile run with The Children's Hospital on the course, much like the 17-miler we did before, except this time we ran the *first* 21 miles and ended shortly after Heartbreak Hill.
An elegant, simple illustration of the course can be found on this page of Boston Partners website--thanks to the wonderful Jess for designing it!
Jess's latest blog post (more appropriately, her latest epic poem) has inspired me to divide this one into parts--let's go with six parts, in honor of (but not at all based on) the six towns we ran through.
I'm not sure I've mentioned it before, so let me now: I'm an English major. I'm apparently incapable of short blog posts. =)
The recap in my last blog post of our 19-miler simply did not do it justice. Let me quickly revisit two really important things I missed.
1) Gary and Bob are my heroes. Two friends of Erin's were kind enough to offer their services at a water stop by the Charles River. They volunteered for this duty. On a Saturday morning. In the pouring rain. I can't believe I didn't mention this in my last post--seriously guys, thank you.
2) Gary and Bob are my heroes. Not only did these two endure an early hour and egregious weather, they served as Laura and I's only water stop. There was apparently another one later on, but we were both so focused on taking one step and then another that neither of us actually saw it. I don't think we realized how much of an impact this had on us at the time, but one water stop is just not quite enough for a 19-mile run.
Laura's title for her blog post about that miserable run sums it up beautifully: "19. 19? 19!" We conquered, but it hurt.
I mentioned hitting the wall somewhere around Mile 17 last post, and I meant it. Every step after that mark was a struggle, so much so that when the time came to think about tacking yet another 2 miles onto 19-miles--well, I was freaking out.
21-miles? Really?? Can't I catch a cold before Saturday morning hits?
My mind kept returning to something our coach's wise wife had told us immediately before heading out for the 19-miler:
This run is going to be hard; there's no doubt. But I don't want you to worry that adding another 10k onto this run or the next long run is going to be that much harder than what you're about to do. In some ways, the marathon is easier. You'll taper down in training miles before the marathon, so your muscles will be rested. You'll have so much support along the way--so many water stops, fans, and adrenaline that in many ways, this 19-mile run and the upcoming 21-mile run will be more difficult than the marathon itself.
With this advice and the memory of the 19-miler in the forefront of my anxiety-ridden brain, I resigned myself to the fact that this 21-miler was flat-out going to suck... but that if I could do this, I could do anything.
II: "I've never been so thankful to start running!"
Teammate Brandt was kind enough to give Erin, Laura and I a ride to Boston College, where the buses awaited us to transport runners to Hopkinton. Thanks to the aforementioned anxiety about the pending run, I would have been all nerves on the bus ride over--but teammate Todd saved the day. Scene:
Todd to Erin: "How long is this bus ride?"
Erin to Todd: "About an hour."
Todd (removes crossword puzzle and pen--revealed to audience for the first time--from jacket): "All right then."
Todd and I spent the next 60 minutes too busy pondering what twelve-letter word fits the clue "Views" to worry about the run looming inevitably in our not-so-distant futures.
We finally arrived to the small town of Hopkinton, where I was *not* particularly eager to get off the bus. Not only did stepping out of our transportation bring me that many steps closer to the Start Line--but it was downright cold outside.
We left the bus and stood around, waiting for fellow teammates Jess and Lisa to join us from another bus pulling in behind ours. And though we tried to heed our coach's advice to stand *calm* and *still* before a long run--to preserve all the energy you possibly can to put into the run itself--we couldn't resist bouncing around a little in a weak attempt to combat the below freezing March morning temperature.
Jess and Lisa joined us just in time. A huge group of Children's Hospital runners were just getting up to the Starting Line to begin, and we wanted to follow them to ensure we wouldn't get lost. (The sheer number of their runners helped, as did their hard-to-miss singlets--see below.)
We were half-frozen, but we were off! Between the pre-run nerves and the pre-run weather, it wasn't long before this chapter's title phrase came out of my mouth: "I've never been so happy to start running!"
III: Hansel & Gretel Revisited
Fortunately for our muscles and our psyches, we warmed up quickly. In a trash bag at the third water stop, I shed the free gloves given out at one of the promotional tables set up at the Start Line. We noticed quite a few discarded gloves and carb gels (also given out in Hopkinton) on the ground along the course, and my usual Long Run Running Mate, Laura, pointed out that we needn't fear getting lost; we could just follow the trail of gloves and gel like Hansel and Gretel. The Gu packets provided the same nutrition as bread crumbs, after all--just carbs in a different form!
...And surely you can see how chatting with this clever lady would make 21 miles a bearable task! After all, that's three and a halfish hours to spend with someone--how many people in the world would you voluntarily spend three and halfish hours straight with? Not to mention, of those people, how many happen to want to run a marathon and happen to run at your same pace? (This assumes that the general "you" wants to run a marathon and is, consequently, inherently flawed from the start.) =) Anyway, my point is that I feel quite lucky to find such a well-suited training partner!
Top Five Other Reasons Laura Rocks to Run With:
5) She gets appropriately excited to hear "No Diggity" at a water stop.
4) She remembers that the street sign she knows you get excited about is coming up even before you do.
3) She can (and will) carry on an intelligent conversation about Ramona Quimby (age 8).
2) If you have a terrible 80s song in your head--with zero prompting--she will whistle the Mario theme song in order to replace it.
1) Drum roll, please... aaaaand see Chapter V. =)
We will refer to this the "I
Erin" chapter is still to come.This marathon's making me gooey.
IV: I Feel Good (I Didn't Know that I Would)
I spent much of the first miles of the run freaking out that we were starting out too fast. Our coach had just sent out an email with the ominous warning, "If you start out too fast, you can never turn around and redo it." It sufficiently frightened me, and more than once, I asked Laura, "Do you think we're going too fast? How fast are we going? Do you think we should slow down here?"
It was also our first time trying out the start of the course, and we were quickly learning just how downhill the beginning is. The immediate consequence seemed to be my freaking out that we were running too fast--the consequence in later miles was some mild barking from our tired hamstrings. That didn't appear until near the end of that day's route, though--I'm getting ahead of myself!
What seemed to be just shortly into the run, Laura's magical GPS watch sang for the seventh time. "We're already a third of the way done!" she exclaimed. "That great," I said rather automatically, initially only half-digesting the magnitude of her words. A few seconds later, I understood. "That's phenomenal!" We both felt great, and Laura commented that it still felt like we had just started running.
Much of how phenomenal our legs felt was owed to the run/walk method--I've mentioned it before, and I'll probably mention it again. After every nine minutes of running, you walk for one minute. This causes you to run the nine minutes slightly faster than you normally would, so you actually keep the same pace (and feel way better, given the minute of muscle-recovery time) that you would normally--our Coach actually argues that over the course of 26 miles, this method makes beginning marathoners faster.
It took me a bit of convincing to initially try the run/walk, though not as much as Laura, the self-proclaimed pony: "Once I get going," she once told Erin and I, "I don't want to stop!" This run was ideal for proving to both of us that we really aren't losing speed.
I usually picture a "ghost" version of myself (this image will make the most sense to gamers, I suspect--see third paragraph of this article if you're curious) who runs the whole marathon at a slower pace, and the run/walk version of myself attempts to keep up with Ghostie. Ghostie is way out in front for the first half, but my run/walker ultimately catches up and passes the constant runner--feeling much less dead to boot.
At the 21-miler, I didn't have to imagine a theoretical "ghost" runner. We ended up falling into pace directly behind a pack of three or four very fit-looking girls from The Children's Hospital team. Every time we walked, we would fall behind them, and every time our nine minutes of jogging were up, we caught back up. We ultimately passed them and finished in front of them when they broke off for a bathroom break (cheating, I know), but referencing them as a speed barometer was great for me to quell any remaining doubts that run/walk was the way to go for the marathon. To borrow Erin's metaphor, we're believers.
V: Gu Gu Dolls
The most loyal of readers may remember that way, way back in a previous post, I discussed buying a carb gel packet to try and then promptly losing it on my run. I wasn't particularly heartbroken, since the thought of carb gel in a packet did not sound appetizing. At all.Consequently, up until this point, I had always carried real food with me: granola bars cut into chunks, gummy bears, pretzels. With the pockets provided on my training jackets--necessary all throughout winter training--carrying the food was no problem. Now, however, with summer temperatures approaching, how could I possibly carry baggies of snacks in a tank top or pocketless capris?
I did buy a miniature fanny pack in an attempt to replace my ever-so-taken-for-granted pockets, but alas, it couldn't hold the same volume. Large portions of energy in small packets seemed to be the solution.
Alas, I would try a carb gel.
And you know what?
THEY'RE DELICIOUS.
If you are a long distance runner and you share my former fears of a possibly weird texture, disgusting taste, etc.--go buy a Betty Crocker can of pre-made fudge frosting. If you enjoy a spoonful of that by itself, you can probably handle a Chocolate Outrage Gu. You might even love it.
...Which brings me to the #1 reason Laura Rocks to Run With: she did not judge me when I told her this. And though her flavor of choice is Chocolate Mint... she even kinda agrees.
We should start a mainstream rock band...
VI: Unbroken after Heartbreak Hill
This was not the first time we had run Heartbreak Hill; we had already once beaten that beast on the 17-miler. This was, however, the first time we had run Heartbreak Hill in "real time"--as in, facing it after already having run 19 miles.
But we were ready. Welcome to the "I
I usually run to work with Erin three times a week, and she plots wonderfully insane routes. We tackle the most challenging hills in Somerville, and those who know Somerville know that that's saying something. Erin, Laura, and I all tackled a 13-mile route she planned for us that somewhat mimicked the Boston course; we started with few hills and ended with a finale of altitude change madness. It was tough considering it was supposed to be an "easy" week of thirteen miles--but man did it pay off. The hills of Newton (including Heartbreak) were certainly not easy, but they were manageable.
Near the beginning of the hills, I proposed there be a subdivision of Mario characters. We determined that really, it should just be the villains. Street names should include Bowser Blvd, Koopa Lane, Hammer Brother Circle.
And at the end of the last hill--where the 21-miler concluded, and where we could finally breathe easy--I kid you not--we saw this man:
I made a short, painful walk down a hill to ask Mario to pose for that picture as evidence that he wasn't a post-run hallucination--we actually saw Mario!! We then took our traditional celebratory photo of Laura's GPS watch to prove that we really did just run 21 miles, and I collapsed on the ground--my legs were literally shaking when I stood. We were tired, sore, and oh so triumphant.
Here are a couple more pictures, courtesy of Erin's camera (thank you, Erin!) This be the group, each of us sporting a lei handed out at the finish line.
from left to right: Jess, Erin, me, Laura, Lisa, & ToddAnd this be Erin and Jess in a triumphant finish:
Another bit of marathon madness complete!
Another bit of marathon madness complete!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
marathon blog post
Time to catch up! I'm going to speed through all of the past long runs to catch up to where we are today. Progress has been made, and it must be documented!
February 27, 2010: Excuses
I showed up to this 18-miler with no intention to run. My foot still had the glaring blood blister; I hadn't gotten a chance to buy new shoes yet (see "Sick" by Shel Silverstein); and I convinced myself that I would attend our team pre-run discussion, leave, buy new shoes, and run the next day instead.
That didn't work. I wanted to get the run over with (not the best attitude to tackle 18 miles, but it happens), and not many folks had shown up to that particular team run. Somehow, that motivated me to want to do it all the more. Not to mention, my homies Laura and Erin would join me if I ran that day. So we ran.
And we walked!
This was the first time we heeded our coach's advice to walk one minute for every nine minutes we ran. None of us had been eager to try this, since walking felt so much like giving up somehow. But when the walk-breaks are planned, brief, and all throughout the run (as opposed to suddenly decided upon near the end of the run when you're out of breath and feel like you can't go on), they're wonderful.
Though it seems counter-intuitive, our pace didn't suffer. We all found that we ran faster during the nine minute intervals with scheduled walk breaks than we would have without walking, so we felt that we ended the run with just as good of a time and more energy. This run made us believers.
March 6, 2010: Owning the Bike Path
Back to just 13 miles for this run, and there wasn't a regular team meeting scheduled. I met Erin in Arlington to knock out a relatively easy, unofficial half-marathon on the Bike Path. You might recall that this was the same setting that our harder-than-it-ever-should-have-been 17 miles was just a few weeks previous; we were happy to own the route this time. We continued with the run/walk method, and we even managed to conquer Park Hill *two* times without dying. Check!
March 13, 2010: "I Might Die Here"
The Monday following this run, I overheard Erin tell another one of our coworkers, "At one point, I told myself I had to put one foot in front of the other, or else I might die there." I knew immediately she was talking about this run.
This was another team run mile marker: 19 miles in the pouring rain and gusting wind. This day was just begging to be legendary.
I wasn't nervous about running in the rain on this Saturday, since we had done it more than one time before. One glance at the weekend's forecast also confirmed that the rain would last all weekend, so there was no reason not to run with the rest of the team on Saturday--it's not like running Friday or Sunday would spare me from getting wet.
Unfortunately, my overconfidence regarding the weather led me to under-dressing for the first time. I didn't bring gloves along, and I chose a t-shirt and track jacket instead of double-layering sleeves with a long-sleeve and track jacket as I should have.
At one point in the run, Laura and I stopped under a bridge to take shelter from the monsoon, and we both worked to try to open a packet of carb gel she had brought. I volunteered to help when she initially couldn't get it, figuring my lack of gloves would provide my fingers more dexterity. Instead, the cold had left my hands unable to function properly, and they didn't listen to my brain's instructions to separate the two sides of the plastic packet. Laura ended up tearing the top off with her teeth, and we made our way back into the rain, determined to get the run over with.
Weather was a mammoth challenge to this run, but I can't emphasize how difficult the distance was to conquer as well. When I first looked at our training run schedule, I stopped considering the differences between long runs once those numbers got into the teens. At the time, there seemed a gigantic difference between 2-mile runs and 4-mile runs, but 17-mile runs and 19-mile runs sounded pretty much the same. Once you get into numbers that high, a 2-mile difference just doesn't matter that much, right?
Ask me that question about the difference between 12 and 14, and I'll actually still agree with you. However, something happens between 17 and 19. I think this may be the Ominous Thing that runners always refer to as The Wall.
Near the end of the run, the wind had picked up, and we had to run directly into it. The rain had gone in shifts throughout the three hours and some that we were outside, and it seemed like it had just started to pick up and really come down again. And sometime around Mile 17, I just felt done. I didn't have energy left, and I knew the day's finish line wasn't just around the corner. We still had something like 20 minutes of running left, and I didn't envision any possible way my legs could carry me that much longer.
This is where running with the Great Lady Laura comes in handy. Laura ran in the same weather I did, the same distance, and faced the same challenges--actually, arguably many more challenges, since her blog will tell you that she also has to deal with diabetes on top of all of this. And yet, shortly before we hit the 19 mile mark tracked by her GPS watch--shortly before I heard the sweet "beep beep beep!" sound I had been waiting three hours to hear--Laura suggested, "Let's run to 19.1--just in case Lisa [another teammate's] watch was right and we're still a tenth of a mile short." I do not exaggerate when I say that Laura is Great. She's also insane. =)
We hit 19. We kept running. We hit 19.1. We were just a couple blocks away from making it back to the gym that serves as our usual starting and ending point. We walked across the street at my request, then kept running.
We hit 19.2. We finally hit the gym. We hit the water fountain. We had hit the wall, but we'd made it to the other side.
March 20, 2010: The Grinch & Her Whip
Now that I've properly introduced Laura, it's time to give Erin the same proper introduction. Erin is, by all accounts, The Queen of Hills.
Our run for this week was another one with relatively short mileage--just 12 miles, and no team run scheduled. Erin, Laura, and I all met in Arlington to knock out the 12 together, and Erin (also Queen of Plotting) was kind enough to put together a route.
I forget the total number of hills we tackled in the couple of hours we were on the road, but it was more than one. Erin also wisely put the majority of elevation challenges in the second half of our run, to more closely mirror what we'll face in the marathon. Though our schedule would have you believe this was an "easy" run compared to the mileage we face in the Saturdays directly before and after this one, Erin ensured that "easy" would need to be listed in quotation marks when we typed up blog posts about her route. We decided that Erin was The Grinch; Laura and I were Max.
I wish I had a photo of the hill at Porter Street. We came to an intersection at somewhere around Mile 10, I would guess--the point in the run where I'm just out-of-it enough that I'm taking in very little scenery except for what's directly in front of me or has potential to hit me. At the intersection, Erin pointed to the right, and it seemed I was faced with a piece of sidewalk just a few feet away from my head. It wasn't an illusion--the hill was just that steep that the ground rose almost that quickly. Though Heartbreak lasts much longer than Porter Street, it's got nothing on how sharp of a rise Porter presents.
This was also what we called our first summer run--we began just after 2 PM, when sunscreen was warranted and Erin tried out running with a hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. We even stopped for a water break at a convenience store mid-run; between the hills and the warmer weather, it was easy to go through water more quickly than we'd planned.
Though this run went overall very well, the last hill we had to conquer made me break into what Erin termed the "Kelly wants to get this run over with" pace. I have absolutely nothing to prove on hills, but I love/hate them--the "hate" part of me just wants to get them over with as quickly as possible. It was shortly after I put on a bit more speed that Erin gave us all our animal counterparts for running:
My friend at home has already labeled me Kelly Gazelly, so that was taken care of. Kelly = Gazelle. Laura = Wolf. Erin = Bull.
We all get the job done. =)
February 27, 2010: Excuses
I showed up to this 18-miler with no intention to run. My foot still had the glaring blood blister; I hadn't gotten a chance to buy new shoes yet (see "Sick" by Shel Silverstein); and I convinced myself that I would attend our team pre-run discussion, leave, buy new shoes, and run the next day instead.
That didn't work. I wanted to get the run over with (not the best attitude to tackle 18 miles, but it happens), and not many folks had shown up to that particular team run. Somehow, that motivated me to want to do it all the more. Not to mention, my homies Laura and Erin would join me if I ran that day. So we ran.
And we walked!
This was the first time we heeded our coach's advice to walk one minute for every nine minutes we ran. None of us had been eager to try this, since walking felt so much like giving up somehow. But when the walk-breaks are planned, brief, and all throughout the run (as opposed to suddenly decided upon near the end of the run when you're out of breath and feel like you can't go on), they're wonderful.
Though it seems counter-intuitive, our pace didn't suffer. We all found that we ran faster during the nine minute intervals with scheduled walk breaks than we would have without walking, so we felt that we ended the run with just as good of a time and more energy. This run made us believers.
March 6, 2010: Owning the Bike Path
Back to just 13 miles for this run, and there wasn't a regular team meeting scheduled. I met Erin in Arlington to knock out a relatively easy, unofficial half-marathon on the Bike Path. You might recall that this was the same setting that our harder-than-it-ever-should-have-been 17 miles was just a few weeks previous; we were happy to own the route this time. We continued with the run/walk method, and we even managed to conquer Park Hill *two* times without dying. Check!
March 13, 2010: "I Might Die Here"
The Monday following this run, I overheard Erin tell another one of our coworkers, "At one point, I told myself I had to put one foot in front of the other, or else I might die there." I knew immediately she was talking about this run.
This was another team run mile marker: 19 miles in the pouring rain and gusting wind. This day was just begging to be legendary.
I wasn't nervous about running in the rain on this Saturday, since we had done it more than one time before. One glance at the weekend's forecast also confirmed that the rain would last all weekend, so there was no reason not to run with the rest of the team on Saturday--it's not like running Friday or Sunday would spare me from getting wet.
Unfortunately, my overconfidence regarding the weather led me to under-dressing for the first time. I didn't bring gloves along, and I chose a t-shirt and track jacket instead of double-layering sleeves with a long-sleeve and track jacket as I should have.
At one point in the run, Laura and I stopped under a bridge to take shelter from the monsoon, and we both worked to try to open a packet of carb gel she had brought. I volunteered to help when she initially couldn't get it, figuring my lack of gloves would provide my fingers more dexterity. Instead, the cold had left my hands unable to function properly, and they didn't listen to my brain's instructions to separate the two sides of the plastic packet. Laura ended up tearing the top off with her teeth, and we made our way back into the rain, determined to get the run over with.
Weather was a mammoth challenge to this run, but I can't emphasize how difficult the distance was to conquer as well. When I first looked at our training run schedule, I stopped considering the differences between long runs once those numbers got into the teens. At the time, there seemed a gigantic difference between 2-mile runs and 4-mile runs, but 17-mile runs and 19-mile runs sounded pretty much the same. Once you get into numbers that high, a 2-mile difference just doesn't matter that much, right?
Ask me that question about the difference between 12 and 14, and I'll actually still agree with you. However, something happens between 17 and 19. I think this may be the Ominous Thing that runners always refer to as The Wall.
Near the end of the run, the wind had picked up, and we had to run directly into it. The rain had gone in shifts throughout the three hours and some that we were outside, and it seemed like it had just started to pick up and really come down again. And sometime around Mile 17, I just felt done. I didn't have energy left, and I knew the day's finish line wasn't just around the corner. We still had something like 20 minutes of running left, and I didn't envision any possible way my legs could carry me that much longer.
This is where running with the Great Lady Laura comes in handy. Laura ran in the same weather I did, the same distance, and faced the same challenges--actually, arguably many more challenges, since her blog will tell you that she also has to deal with diabetes on top of all of this. And yet, shortly before we hit the 19 mile mark tracked by her GPS watch--shortly before I heard the sweet "beep beep beep!" sound I had been waiting three hours to hear--Laura suggested, "Let's run to 19.1--just in case Lisa [another teammate's] watch was right and we're still a tenth of a mile short." I do not exaggerate when I say that Laura is Great. She's also insane. =)
We hit 19. We kept running. We hit 19.1. We were just a couple blocks away from making it back to the gym that serves as our usual starting and ending point. We walked across the street at my request, then kept running.
We hit 19.2. We finally hit the gym. We hit the water fountain. We had hit the wall, but we'd made it to the other side.
March 20, 2010: The Grinch & Her Whip
Now that I've properly introduced Laura, it's time to give Erin the same proper introduction. Erin is, by all accounts, The Queen of Hills.
Our run for this week was another one with relatively short mileage--just 12 miles, and no team run scheduled. Erin, Laura, and I all met in Arlington to knock out the 12 together, and Erin (also Queen of Plotting) was kind enough to put together a route.
I forget the total number of hills we tackled in the couple of hours we were on the road, but it was more than one. Erin also wisely put the majority of elevation challenges in the second half of our run, to more closely mirror what we'll face in the marathon. Though our schedule would have you believe this was an "easy" run compared to the mileage we face in the Saturdays directly before and after this one, Erin ensured that "easy" would need to be listed in quotation marks when we typed up blog posts about her route. We decided that Erin was The Grinch; Laura and I were Max.
I wish I had a photo of the hill at Porter Street. We came to an intersection at somewhere around Mile 10, I would guess--the point in the run where I'm just out-of-it enough that I'm taking in very little scenery except for what's directly in front of me or has potential to hit me. At the intersection, Erin pointed to the right, and it seemed I was faced with a piece of sidewalk just a few feet away from my head. It wasn't an illusion--the hill was just that steep that the ground rose almost that quickly. Though Heartbreak lasts much longer than Porter Street, it's got nothing on how sharp of a rise Porter presents.
This was also what we called our first summer run--we began just after 2 PM, when sunscreen was warranted and Erin tried out running with a hat to keep the sun out of her eyes. We even stopped for a water break at a convenience store mid-run; between the hills and the warmer weather, it was easy to go through water more quickly than we'd planned.
Though this run went overall very well, the last hill we had to conquer made me break into what Erin termed the "Kelly wants to get this run over with" pace. I have absolutely nothing to prove on hills, but I love/hate them--the "hate" part of me just wants to get them over with as quickly as possible. It was shortly after I put on a bit more speed that Erin gave us all our animal counterparts for running:
My friend at home has already labeled me Kelly Gazelly, so that was taken care of. Kelly = Gazelle. Laura = Wolf. Erin = Bull.
We all get the job done. =)
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
outlook fame
For any who have not yet seen, an article I wrote about marathon training was featured in my hometown newspaper--on the front page!! Check it out here:http://www.laureloutlook.com/articles/2010/03/03/news/01kelly.txt
I promise a post about the EPIC 19-miler is on its way, Anonymous commenter...
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
to whom it may concern
Dear Makers of Athletic Shoes and Clothing,
Not all girls want pink running gear. Many of us don't find the other pastel options a heck of a lot better. Our third choice seems to be black, and while I like the collection of black running clothes I seem to be acquiring, I would prefer not to look like a ninja assassin at *all* times.
Also, these:
are not acceptable.
That said, thank you for creating my royal purple track jacket. It is certainly a step in the right direction.
Sincerely yours,
Kelly
The Mostly Anti-Pink
Not all girls want pink running gear. Many of us don't find the other pastel options a heck of a lot better. Our third choice seems to be black, and while I like the collection of black running clothes I seem to be acquiring, I would prefer not to look like a ninja assassin at *all* times.
Also, these:
That said, thank you for creating my royal purple track jacket. It is certainly a step in the right direction.
Sincerely yours,
Kelly
The Mostly Anti-Pink
Saturday, March 6, 2010
bizarro 17
Continuing with catching up on long run posts, I'm pleased to present:February 20, 2010: The Blister Run
If the seventeen-miler of the previous week was day, this run was surely night. If the previous seventeen-miler was white, this run was surely black. If the previous... okay, you get it. The mileage was the only similarity of these consecutive weekend adventures.
We didn't have a team run scheduled for this Saturday, so I met with a few of the usual suspects (Laura and Erin) plus a new addition (my VISTA buddy Becca, training for the Marathon on a different team) in Arlington for our long run.
Route-plotter extraordinaire Erin planned what looked to be an easy run, at least compared to the hills we conquered last week. We had just one hill to climb, and it came early enough in the run that I wasn't worried about it. We would also be on the bike path for most of the remainder of the run, which meant asphault instead of concrete--so much nicer on the legs. This was also one of the only weeks I've been able to tell myself, "I don't need to be concerned about running X miles; I just ran X miles last weekend, and it was fine!" As far as I knew, it would be a comparatively easy long run.
Sometimes, I'm an idiot.
We started out together, and we all conquered Park Hill with little trouble. Laura decided to run a shorter distance than the rest of us, so she left us partway into the run to turn around and run back. (Revealing Laura anecdote: determined athlete that she is, however, she adjusted her return route to include Park Hill once again.)
Erin and I ran together, and Becca jogged ahead at some point because she is, in short, a superstar. Both Erin and I's energy was lacking, so we took the first walk breaks we have ever taken during a long run.
Necessary as the walk breaks were for both of us, my mental block telling me that walking = failure took a toll on my spirit. And that would have been enough to ruin my mood... but then there was my right foot.
Pro Tip: When your running coach tells you, "Buy running shoes that are 1/2 size bigger because your feet will swell when you run," listen to him. Don't buy your normal 7 1/2s because you're afraid the 8s will fall off. As hard as it is for your stubborn self to believe, you don't know running better than your running coach.
And by "you," of course, I mean me.
Unfortunately, I had to learn this lesson the hard way--and though I'm not sure why it didn't happen until this particular 17-mile run, learn the hard way I did. I'm sure the blood blister that formed during this run appeared because my shoes were simply not large enough to contain my swelled feet (gross), and so the side of my foot began to run on my shoe. Part of my problem that day may also have been that I'm still running in regular cotton socks instead of bonafide running socks (another mistake I need to rectify), but the one thing I was sure of was that by the time Mile 10 or so rolled around, I was requesting walking breaks mostly because of my aching feet. Walking on the forming blister still hurt my foot, but running certainly hurt it more.
Slowly, painfully, and with more walk breaks than I would have admitted to you if I'd counted them, we finished. I was never more thankful for a car ride home from Becca, and after walking very gingerly up the steps to my apartment, I cautiously removed my sock to reveal this Thing on the left side of my right foot:
I'm convinced. I will buy size 8s.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
the route of some evils
With all my talk of the Boston Marathon course yesterday, I should probably show it to you! Check out the official map here.
The map marks the hateful Heartbreak Hill with its very own broken hearted graphic, but also check out the elevation rise at Mile 16. I specifically remember that climb as well; it's especially tough since few people ever speak of--or more appropriately--warn you about it.
Also, this post has nothing to do with Elvis; I just thought the picture was cute. For indulging me--thank you, thank you very much.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
lean mean seventeen
It seems I have managed to take another hiatus from blogging... Time, where dost thou go?
Each of the long runs that have transpired since my last post is worth mentioning, but in order to refrain from trying your patience (and my from straining my typing fingers), I'll reflect on them one post at a time. Chronologically, first up is the long run on Saturday, February 13--the first time I've ever run on the Boston Marathon course! Strap in.
February 13, 2010: 17 Epic Miles on the Boston Marathon Course
According to our schedule, February13's run was supposed to be 16 miles. The previous run had been 15 miles, and up until now, you've probably noticed that we increase a mile at a time. This run, however, was special.
As I understand it, The Children's Hospital here puts on two training runs on the actual Boston Marathon course open to all Charity Runners every year. There's a fee associated with participating ($20 per runner), but it's great practice, and Boston Partners was kind enough to pick up the bill for runners on our team.
With the exception of our first ever long runs in November, I'm not usually nervous about training runs. This is NOT due to courage on my part--just time restraints. The great thing about marathon training taking up so much of your daily life is that you have little time left to stress out about marathon training. But as I said... this run was special.
This was jumping from 15 to 17 miles! This was facing Heartbreak Hill for the first time! And most importantly--this was The Course!
I arrived at the Riverside T-stop with teammates Erin and Laura, both of whom seemed much calmer than I could understand. The folks of The Children's Hospital bussed us to Mile #9 of The Course so that we could run 17-miles instead of 26 and still have the satisfaction of crossing the finish line at Copley Square.
The bus ride generated yet more nerves. Erin and Laura chatted casually in the seats behind them, while I silently stared out the window--watching tired-looking runner after even-more-tired-looking runner ascend the sidewalks by the bus's path. A few of them looked like they were weathering the miles quite nicely, but it was difficult to identify with them in my state of trepidation. I imagined that soon, busses would pass by me and their inhabitants would pick me out as the most haggard and worn of them all--assuming I made it that far, that is.
It didn't help that the trip to Mile 9 seemed to be taking forever.
Nicole, a qualified runner on our team with several Bostons under her belt, once gave the advice never to drive the course of the Boston Marathon--and I like to think I now fully understand why. It. Takes. So. Long. Every minute that passes, you're thinking to yourself, "If it takes this long to drive along this route, how am I ever going to run the thing?!" A teleporter would have been much kinder to my nerves.
We finally arrived to our dropping point, and there was no turning back. Luckily for me at that point, a great cure for nervousness is... well, running. We began.
This is the moment I give mad props (Can I pull off that phrase? I don't think so.) to my mad-prop-worthy running partner, Laura. You may have noticed earlier in this blog that Laura and I both grew up participating in competitive Dr. Mario tournaments with our fathers. This probably explains our similar running styles: try to keep up with the other person, and say nothing when the pace is slightly quicker than you might otherwise run by yourself. Oh yeah--and if there is even an ounce of energy left in a single muscle of your body, sprint the last few yards to the finish line in a not-so-subtle attempt to cross before the other person. Laura always wins. I keep trying. =)
Skipping this part would just be a sin: We conquered Heartbreak Hill. And I am happy to announce that while it was no breeze, Heartbreak was not quite as bad as I envisioned it. (Quick Montana reference here: that could be because I was envisioning something like the Goat Trail at Mystic Lake.) Still, here's the analogy I've come up with for the section of the course almost universally referred to as its most difficult part:
Heartbreak Hill is not the meanest guy you ever dated. Heartbreak Hill is the guy you dated who dumped you at the absolute worst possible moment in your life, when you are--and this was Laura's addition to the analogy--already bruised and battered. That's your beef with Heartbreak Hill.
If Heartbreak reared its head at Mile 2 in the course, I'm convinced that few people would know its name. But since it appears near the end of the run--although it really is not that steep--it really is worthy of its legend. Starting at Mile 9 surely helped us conquer its summit on this particular training run. The day of the Marathon, when are legs are less fresh when we begin our ascension, I have a feeling it will be that much more difficult.
The final big challenge awaiting us after Heartbreak was the last couple of miles through Boston itself. Though this run was an Anxiety-Worthy Epic Event for me, it was just another Saturday for the rest of Boston. It was also a nice day. Saturday + Sunshine = Sidewalk Traffic
Laura and I were both spent by the time we reached the sidewalks of Boston, so fighting through crowds of pedestrians in our mental state at that time was not ideal. At least that's one challenge we won't have to face on Marathon Monday!
Finally, after what seemed like the longest final two miles I have EVER run, we finished. Gasping, we walked ever-so-stiffly to the nearest 7-11 for water and (!!) Coke Zero. I admitted that the only reason I kept the pace that I did was to keep up with Laura--and Laura made the same admission thinking she needed to keep up with me! (See above: Dr. Mario.)
Laura informed me of our completion time, according to her very cool GPS watch: 2 hours, 39 minutes.
Given A) my depleted brain power at that time, and B) the fact that I had never run 17 miles previous to this, that number meant nothing to me. I did some quick mental math and consulted my cell phone calculator to make sense of the number.
Previous to this run, we were both fairly convinced that our pace was very close to 10 minutes per mile. If the cell phone math held up, we just averaged a nine minute, twenty second mile.
Holy crap.
Laura quickly checked our egos by reminding me that her watch stops counting time whenever we stop running--so any time spent at water stops or waiting for a light to turn green was not included in the 2 hr, 39 min total. Nonetheless, at that moment we were two very sore, very tired, but very happy runners.
Each of the long runs that have transpired since my last post is worth mentioning, but in order to refrain from trying your patience (and my from straining my typing fingers), I'll reflect on them one post at a time. Chronologically, first up is the long run on Saturday, February 13--the first time I've ever run on the Boston Marathon course! Strap in.
February 13, 2010: 17 Epic Miles on the Boston Marathon Course
According to our schedule, February13's run was supposed to be 16 miles. The previous run had been 15 miles, and up until now, you've probably noticed that we increase a mile at a time. This run, however, was special.As I understand it, The Children's Hospital here puts on two training runs on the actual Boston Marathon course open to all Charity Runners every year. There's a fee associated with participating ($20 per runner), but it's great practice, and Boston Partners was kind enough to pick up the bill for runners on our team.
With the exception of our first ever long runs in November, I'm not usually nervous about training runs. This is NOT due to courage on my part--just time restraints. The great thing about marathon training taking up so much of your daily life is that you have little time left to stress out about marathon training. But as I said... this run was special.
This was jumping from 15 to 17 miles! This was facing Heartbreak Hill for the first time! And most importantly--this was The Course!
I arrived at the Riverside T-stop with teammates Erin and Laura, both of whom seemed much calmer than I could understand. The folks of The Children's Hospital bussed us to Mile #9 of The Course so that we could run 17-miles instead of 26 and still have the satisfaction of crossing the finish line at Copley Square.
The bus ride generated yet more nerves. Erin and Laura chatted casually in the seats behind them, while I silently stared out the window--watching tired-looking runner after even-more-tired-looking runner ascend the sidewalks by the bus's path. A few of them looked like they were weathering the miles quite nicely, but it was difficult to identify with them in my state of trepidation. I imagined that soon, busses would pass by me and their inhabitants would pick me out as the most haggard and worn of them all--assuming I made it that far, that is.
It didn't help that the trip to Mile 9 seemed to be taking forever.
Nicole, a qualified runner on our team with several Bostons under her belt, once gave the advice never to drive the course of the Boston Marathon--and I like to think I now fully understand why. It. Takes. So. Long. Every minute that passes, you're thinking to yourself, "If it takes this long to drive along this route, how am I ever going to run the thing?!" A teleporter would have been much kinder to my nerves.
We finally arrived to our dropping point, and there was no turning back. Luckily for me at that point, a great cure for nervousness is... well, running. We began.
This is the moment I give mad props (Can I pull off that phrase? I don't think so.) to my mad-prop-worthy running partner, Laura. You may have noticed earlier in this blog that Laura and I both grew up participating in competitive Dr. Mario tournaments with our fathers. This probably explains our similar running styles: try to keep up with the other person, and say nothing when the pace is slightly quicker than you might otherwise run by yourself. Oh yeah--and if there is even an ounce of energy left in a single muscle of your body, sprint the last few yards to the finish line in a not-so-subtle attempt to cross before the other person. Laura always wins. I keep trying. =)
Skipping this part would just be a sin: We conquered Heartbreak Hill. And I am happy to announce that while it was no breeze, Heartbreak was not quite as bad as I envisioned it. (Quick Montana reference here: that could be because I was envisioning something like the Goat Trail at Mystic Lake.) Still, here's the analogy I've come up with for the section of the course almost universally referred to as its most difficult part:
Heartbreak Hill is not the meanest guy you ever dated. Heartbreak Hill is the guy you dated who dumped you at the absolute worst possible moment in your life, when you are--and this was Laura's addition to the analogy--already bruised and battered. That's your beef with Heartbreak Hill.
If Heartbreak reared its head at Mile 2 in the course, I'm convinced that few people would know its name. But since it appears near the end of the run--although it really is not that steep--it really is worthy of its legend. Starting at Mile 9 surely helped us conquer its summit on this particular training run. The day of the Marathon, when are legs are less fresh when we begin our ascension, I have a feeling it will be that much more difficult.
The final big challenge awaiting us after Heartbreak was the last couple of miles through Boston itself. Though this run was an Anxiety-Worthy Epic Event for me, it was just another Saturday for the rest of Boston. It was also a nice day. Saturday + Sunshine = Sidewalk Traffic
Laura and I were both spent by the time we reached the sidewalks of Boston, so fighting through crowds of pedestrians in our mental state at that time was not ideal. At least that's one challenge we won't have to face on Marathon Monday!
Finally, after what seemed like the longest final two miles I have EVER run, we finished. Gasping, we walked ever-so-stiffly to the nearest 7-11 for water and (!!) Coke Zero. I admitted that the only reason I kept the pace that I did was to keep up with Laura--and Laura made the same admission thinking she needed to keep up with me! (See above: Dr. Mario.)
Laura informed me of our completion time, according to her very cool GPS watch: 2 hours, 39 minutes.
Given A) my depleted brain power at that time, and B) the fact that I had never run 17 miles previous to this, that number meant nothing to me. I did some quick mental math and consulted my cell phone calculator to make sense of the number.
2 x 60 = 120
120 + 39 = 159
159 / 17 = 9.35
.35 is roughly equivalent to 1/3
1/3 of 60 seconds is 20 seconds
Holy crap.
120 + 39 = 159
159 / 17 = 9.35
.35 is roughly equivalent to 1/3
1/3 of 60 seconds is 20 seconds
Holy crap.
Previous to this run, we were both fairly convinced that our pace was very close to 10 minutes per mile. If the cell phone math held up, we just averaged a nine minute, twenty second mile.
Holy crap.
Laura quickly checked our egos by reminding me that her watch stops counting time whenever we stop running--so any time spent at water stops or waiting for a light to turn green was not included in the 2 hr, 39 min total. Nonetheless, at that moment we were two very sore, very tired, but very happy runners.
Monday, February 8, 2010
crazy talk
Have I mentioned recently how much nicer it is to train with a group than by yourself?We have all noticed that on longer runs, we have a tendency to start saying fairly odd things. My teammates' theory on this is that we get fatigued, and consequently, we stop using what energy we have left to make sense and start using solely to propel ourselves to the next mile.
My theory is that we're all weird anyway, and spending three hours together just brings out the crazy. =)
My favorite lines from the last 15-miler with teammates Erin, Jess, and Laura (some mentioned here deliberately without context) include:
1) Erin's telling us she had a metaphorical peg leg.
2) Jess's confession for craving orange Gatorade and pizza.
3) Laura's discussion of a low-carb bagel--created by emptying out part of the bagel and replacing it with cream cheese. (I should add, for fear of making Laura sound insane, that she was not in favor of this.)
4) Erin's proclamation that we couldn't find another teammate we had been searching for because he (or possibly we) had unknowingly entered a wormhole.
5) Jess's question, as we started on a path known for having a lot of dogs on it, "Are there only Golden Retrievers on this trail?"
6) Laura's loud announcement as a dog ran by us on said trail, "We don't have any chicken!"
7) Erin's enumerated punishments for the man who told us to "Lose that fat!" as we ran by him on a bridge--each suggestion more graphically violent than the last.
I, of course, say nothing crazy. Now how do you disable comments...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
sight seeing
I may work in the best office ever, and evidence of that statement lies in occasional mid-day runs with some officemates, three of which are training for the Marathon with me. We're usually able to do this a couple times a week, and I can't tell you how great that's been. Not only can we get our training in for the day early so that we don't have to think about after coming home exhausted from work, but it's also infinitely nicer to run in the daylight and to run with people than alone in the dark.
I certainly do a lot of writing on this blog, so I'll change pace (bad pun!) and post some pictures this time instead. These are taken by office-running-mate Jess, who carried her iPhone with her on one AM 5-miler and snapped some shots around and near the Harbor. Thanks, Jess!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)