You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘race recap’ category.

Two man team (runner 2)

There were a lot of undies on the course.

Lucy on leg 9

Leg 12 hand-off

Water stop in the middle of a 10.8 mile leg

More undies – except this dude was mean. “Nice tan lines.” “Don’t touch.” (Not even a thought running through my head.)

Major exchange 18 – the beginning of our 2nd set of legs.

This is what it was like …running in the dark. {awesome!}

Van Smash – our pimped out mirrors

Lucy in Skeletor’s clutches

Crossing the finish line – 200 miles later.

Van 2 runners rock!

Team Long Distance Relay-tionship – Nom de plume winners!


Ragnar, oh how I love thee…

1) Meeting my van mates for the first time.  Not the scary airport meeting of my team – because that reception line (being the 11th team member to arrive) was awkward.  But the hysterical chit chat as we drove north to our hotel – the rambunctious mascot hatching plans that bonded us immediately.

2) The actual chicken napping & the “ransom” photos we sent along to van one. Also, covertly tagging other vans brought much joy & laughter.

3) Exchanges 6-12: Brandy who we almost missed midway through leg 6 because she was extra speedy.  Donald with his Hulk hands (even if it was a bad idea to run in them).  Lucy with the biggest smile in the world while she ran.  Handing off the slap bracelet to Thomas who picked up 15 road kills (I’ll take the assist on one or two of those).  And John with a 10.8 mile leg and ran it like he was taking a leisurely stroll.  I don’t know how I feel about leg 10 (my leg) because I felt like I was running faster than normal because I thought it would be the only leg I was going to run well.  Except I didn’t run it faster than normal.

4) Getting to change out of my sweaty clothes at exchange 12 and attempt to sleep.  Futile effort.

5) Fell in love with my ear plugs & my eye mask.  Godsend.  (Also, totally helpful with the early morning sunrises in the Pacific Northwest, especially if you like to sleep in.)

6) Leg 22.  4.8 miles starting in Anacortes (where my family’s sailboat was docked) at 3 a.m. in the morning.  And feeling so energized & alive as I ran in the dark.  The red blinking lights of runners ahead, sometimes forming a line of fireflies in the distance.

7) Running in the dark.  Period.  End of story.  On my list of all time favorites.  Not being able to see but a few feet in front of you.  Sometimes, seeing the tall pine trees lit up as a van passes.  And then total darkness.  Nothing but my own feet & the steps directly in front of me.

8) Crossing Deception Pass in darkness & remembering what its like to sail below it.

9) One point five hours of sleep.  In a noisy cafeteria.  (Thank you earplugs!)  Surrounded by leagues of sleeping bags & running shoes.

10) Running my last leg.  (But not the heat.  Or the hills.)  Seeing my teammates 4.2 miles into it with cheers & water.

11) Running down hill into my last exchange knowing I’d just accomplished a pretty amazing feat.  13.7 miles on 1.5 hours of sleep.

12) All the “way to go’s” and “keep it ups” I received from runners.  (Okay, so it was as they passed me – I was an easy road kill mark.)

13) Sitting in the van knowing I had no more legs to run.  Waiting for our last runner to meet our team at the finish line & running across as one big team.

14) Dinner in Seattle with my favorite Canadians who reminded me we’re all on a running journey.

15) My love for running (and my confidence in running) was restored.

This year has been a roller coaster when it comes to how I feel about running.  Rang in the New Year eligible to join the Half Fanatics.  I joined a new training group & had some strong training runs; I also met a GREAT running buddy.

Then March came in like a lion & I hated running.  Overwhelmed with my schedule, I let running fall to the side.  Several times I tried to find motivation to finish training for Big Sur.  Do I run as far as I can & let them sweep me off the course?  Do I not show up at the starting line?

I hated running.

So much, I was ready to walk back to my car from the starting line for spring races – twice.  The medals I received for those races were not worth the 13.1 miles it took to earn them.  And the miles upon miles of tirade playing out in my brain.

I went into Rainier to Ruston unsure I could even run a mile.  It had been a few months since I had really run and the treadmill miles did not add up.  Running outside again was a huge godsend.  Running well with Wink (her nickname until I can come up with something better), training for a half marathon in September, the joy started to come back.

Enter Ragnar: Northwest Passage.

I don’t know if I’ve ever had so much fun.  Beyond that, I’m really happy with my performance.  I was worried I would peter out with my last leg.  I ran slower & slower with each leg in Rainier to Ruston and I had less mileage each leg!  With Ragnar, my mileage would increase each leg, culminating in a 5.8 mile leg.

Something else happened over those 200 miles.  I don’t know if I can even explain what happened.  What I do know is that between my first leg Friday and saying good-bye to my team Sunday morning, I was transformed.  That feeling has stayed with me all week.  It’s the same feeling I had after completing the 30 day yoga challenge.

Whatever ‘it” is, I hope its around to stay.

At the beginning of June, three friends & I took on a 50 mile relay that started at Mt. Rainier and ended along the waterfront in Tacoma.

Each of these legs bring back a ton of memories.  I was originally assigned legs 1, 5, and 9.  Due to some navigation issues (on my part), buttahcup ran back to back legs (8 & 9) and my last leg was number ten.

Start of the race near Mt Rainier

So pretty!!

The first leg was mine and since my training had been spotty, it made my day that it wasn’t too terribly bad (minus the old couple passing me).  I was close to my expected time for 5 miles and maybe if I hadn’t stopped to take photos… but it was so beautiful!

About a mile into the run

A few miles later

Happy to be finished with my leg, we cheered Robby K as he ran under this bridge.

The muddy path below the bridge… I received many complaints about the muddy trails. So muddy, he lost his shoe at one point. (Karma would get its pay back.)

View from the bridge

Leg 5 was hot but paved and some familiar running territory.

Karma Leg 10. Most of the leg was this sandy trail. At times, the fine sand was hard to run in. The kicker though was the large mud puddle covering the whole trail for about 30 feet. I tried walking up the steep embankment & decided that was the wrong choice. I backed down & tried climbing through a fallen trees branches, slipped in mud and landed knee deep in the mud puddle, horse sh!t and all. Karmic payback.

Team More Cowbell at the finish line.

The relay was so much fun.  Even though we complained about our running legs, the legs in between were a total blast.  It was fun cheering everyone on.  I’m still amazed we ran from Mt Rainier to Ruston Way in Tacoma.  We are already planning on having more teams next year.

This is a hard post to write because this race was kind of… boring.  The quick rundown so I can get to the fun stuff!


  • Great crowd support
  • Beer stop & the best cheerleaders (two years in a row!)
  • Familiar with the last two miles (last mile is downhill)
  • Great race shirts & different shirts for each distance


  • Boring course through Olympia neighborhoods
  • No medal (received dog tags & a coaster – save money on the coaster & go for the medal)

I can’t imagine running this race again.  It is run well but once you run the course, you are only going back for a course PR.

I was really excited to travel to Big Sur.  Not because there was a race in Big Sur, even if that race is touted as the marathon you should run, if you run only one.  But because I had some beatnik vision of what Big Sur was all about plus a little nonsense about the mystical properties of the area.

What we’ve learned about moi: I am easily influenced by books.

And seriously, when you come across a view like this, how can you not be inspired?

But I digress.  Due to things that sound like excuses (coaching, lack of rest, etc), I opted out of the full marathon.  I had a few feelings about it.  Even though I paid the extra money to be a part of the Runner’s World Challenge, I felt unworthy of taking any part of their service (I think mostly the after race tent & festivities).

Tail between my legs, grabbed my number for the 9 mile race & left the expo.  Even avoiding the runner man extraordinaire, Bart Yasso, who I have wanted to meet since I signed up with Team in Training last spring!  (Maybe he’ll come to the Seattle Marathon in November & I can make up for my blunder!)

And now, for the race…

Standing at the starting line, I wondered why I was there.  I mean, I’d run 7.5 miles two weeks before the race and 13.1 miles a month before that.  I wasn’t training.  In fact, I had done the opposite of train & only played volleyball.

The horn blew & I started to run.  The first mile is always the hardest and this mile was no different.  Reaching a small hill, I stopped to walk as we entered into a neighborhood and the milepost 1 sign.  At the end of the neighborhood, we took a right onto a sandy path with the following view opening up.


I ran a little on the sandy path, stopping to take photos here & there.  I finally gave up & decided it wasn’t worth running anymore.  By that, I was stopping so often to take photos, I decided it was better to enjoy the scenery along this course & worry nothing about the race.

The moment I decided to enjoy the view…

After the first milepost, I didn’t see another until I was back on the marathon course and I’m a bit hesitant to believe I walked a nine mile course.  Mostly, because it was the fastest nine miles I ever experienced.  Or maybe, this is what happens when you enjoy the scenery & focus none on the run.

We entered Point Lobos State Park (worth the park admission to see the view!!), was serenaded by an Irish flutist (??) followed by a Scottish bagpiper.  All the while, wondering when I was going to see the next mile marker (I was wearing one day old new shoes).  Point Lobos has been referred as “the greatest meeting of land & water in the world” by landscape artist Francis McComas.  I am not sure I agree 100% but it is not the first time I’ve been intrigued to check out a place based on what someone else said.   (Milford Sound, New Zealand & Rudyard Kipling declaring it the “eighth Wonder of the World” may ring a bell.)

Point Lobos

More Pt Lobos

After the turn around & following my footsteps out of the park, I came face to face with those rare creatures – the marathon runner.  For the last 2-3 miles, I walked along the road as marathoners ran past me.  The runners passing me were in the 3:25:00 – 3:40:00 range.  I was impressed.  Running a hilly course (there is a 2.2 mile hill in the middle), these runners looked so strong.  No shuffling steps.  No ragged breathing.  Minus one leg cramp, they looked as if they had just run one mile.

After seeing the course, I think I may have been a bit premature thinking it was a good first marathon.  And maybe it would have been – who knows.  I do know, I’ll be back.

What better way to send off 2011 then with a half marathon?  Crazy talk, I know.

more camel-bell: look who I ran into at mile 6

Yukon Do It was my third half marathon & the race earning my way into the exclusive Half Fanatics club.  By exclusive, I mean you have to earn your eligibility with crazy feats of vigor.  My streak (3 half marathons in 90 days) earns me a bottom rung Neptune moon level.  Don’t believe me when I say I haven’t already started planning my rise through the levels.

This was a weird race for me.  My training  since my second half marathon has been spotty, almost non-existent.  Prior to yesterday’s race, I had run 25 miles all December.  Not exactly good.  I should have run 25 miles each week.  As you can imagine, I was freaking out a bit by my lack of training even though my lack of discipline had gotten me into this mess.  On top of that, fueling during the race was off.  It wasn’t until after the half way point, I took my first shot block.  I was not thirsty.  I didn’t take salt.  I am still learning how to fuel mid-race but perhaps the weather had a hand in it this time.

It was cold; at 8 a.m. it was 25 degrees.  The first mile was downhill and an icy one at that.  Serenaded by barking seals, I made my way along Yukon Bay.  The next few miles were along the water with gorgeous views of the Olympic Mountain range.  (First time I didn’t take photos.)  Add in crystal clear water, ducks, herons and a bald eagle fly by – beautiful, scenic run.  At the mile 1.5 water stop, I considered following the 5k runner turn-around.  My heart was not in running this race.  Who needs to be a Half Fanatic?

At mile 4, I caught up with my friend Beth and we ran together until we reached Manchester State Park.  I tried the remainder of the race to catch up with her but it didn’t happen until I crossed the finish line.  Beth was a godsend because I had a reel of negative thoughts running repeat in my head until I caught up with her.  I am not much of a talker while running but I may reconsider my stance.  While we were together, the negativity disappeared & the running didn’t seem as hard.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions but I am going to make an exception for 2012.  I resolve to be mentally tough in regards to running.  I teach my players to be mentally tough & I believe I am mentally tough on the volleyball court.  But I have spent over 20 years playing.  I must also remember to master a skill, you must put in 10,000 hours of practice.  Along with being mentally tough, I must  be kind to myself while I am learning to run.

I have been slow to post last week’s race recap on the Amica Seattle half marathon.  Half numero dos in my quest to be eligible for admission to the elite Half Fanatics club.  Of which I am aiming for three half’s in 90 days.  Final race in this trilogy quest on December 31st – what better way to end this year of running?  Before I get ahead of myself, I must remember & give thanks for the Seattle half.

My original goal for 2011 was to run one half marathon.  Before the Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco was on my radar, before all the fundraising, before I found Team in Training: the Amica Seattle Half Marathon was my goal race.  My one big race for all the marbles in 2011.  I, somehow, got caught up in the magic of running and found myself following in the footsteps of runner friends who were questing for their Half Fanatics number.  That number – it’s kind of a big deal.  (Don’t be fooled: in less than 30 days plus whatever time it takes to process my eligibility, I WILL be shouting that number from the rooftops.)

Digressing no further…

As if I couldn’t do things more wrong: do you know you are not supposed to take on new activities a few weeks before your race?  And do you know that is exactly what I did?  My thought process was if I didn’t start crossfit in mid-November, it would be harder to schedule after the race.  Plus there would always be another race right around the corner.  Start crossfit, I did.  And wouldn’t you know, I injured myself lifting too much weight on the dead lifts.  Because apparently, someone has a weak hip (from running), which means someone has a weak hamstring (from running).  I kept pushing through the crossfit trainings.  For the most part, the training runs the week up to the half were pretty good.  My pace had improved (side effect of the crossfit?) even as my leg was kind of gimpy.  I did feel the pull on my hamstring running downhill & the strain on my knee running up.  All in all, this race was going to be what it was.  I was already preparing myself for walking the race, if need be.  In fact, up until I received my race packet, I was see-sawing on whether I should walk or run the course.

At the race expo, I was determined to find kinesio tape.  It seems you can only buy it online and since it was last minute, not an option.  When I called a sports store two days prior to the race, they had no clue what I was talking about.  I found the kinesio tape at the expo and was given instruction on how to apply it.

The shake out run the day before the big race, I tried out the kinesio and all the hurt I had felt during the Turkey Trot – gone.  I am starting to think the kinesio tape is some kind of magic potion in tape form.  I have yet to figure out how it works but it does.  And not just my testimonial.  buttahcup tried it this week and she is also singing the praises of kt tape.

I really didn’t want to make this a comparison post between the San Francisco (Nike) & Seattle (Amica) races.  Each race was vastly different.  At Nike, I was in a zen state; Amica, I was full of excitement.  Maybe it was having M{squared} by my side but the atmosphere was abuzz with nerves but also anticipation.  What was this race going to bring?

starting line

The skies were brilliant in the early morning but that soon changed to light rain…to heavy rain… to being totally soaked and facing winds off the Puget Sound.  {unfortunate for runner girls!}  As soon as the horn blew, we were off.  I can’t tell you how cool it is to see a city on foot, running through the streets, seeing people, and shops, how the skyline changes.  It is one of my favorite things about running.  The monorail rumbled by overhead.  All of a sudden we were at the first water stop at mile two.  So far, smooth sailing.

hamming it up b/t miles 2-3

Part of the I-90 interchange was blocked for the race.  Awesome to run on the highway.  Awesome to run through a tunnel (honking noises included).  Recaps for the 2010 race, everyone said it was such an apocalyptic experience running through the tunnel.  It was plain fun.  That, and it was dry.

scary tunnel running

Mile four was somewhere in the tunnel or just on the other side.  As the full marathoners passed us, we got off the highway and ran along some waterfront.  From reading the course map, I have no clue where we were.  I imagined the course to go in a complete opposite direction.  At mile five, I made my first med tent stop.  My right knee was bothering me and asked them to tape it up.  Wet from sweat and rain, my 15 minutes of taping fell off within 30 seconds of leaving the tent.

Mile 8: second med tent stop.  This time they had kt tape and I was poked & prodded by the doctor with me nearly in tears (I still have bruises!).  Running out of that tent, I felt good.  My energy had been slacking and that rest was exactly what I needed before the big hill at mile 9-10.

Within a mile of the finish line, I was tired & cold & hurting.  My tape had come off and I was running unsupported.  And even though I kept plodding along, I would have found myself walking to the finish line had M{squared} not been there with her motivation.  Within a quarter mile to the finish my right calf cramped up – the kind of cramping that wakes you up in the middle of of the night a la charlie horse.  A short walk to work it out, and again, running into Memorial Stadium.  Running around the corner, seeing the photographer ready with his camera, both calves cramped up.  This was not how I wanted to finish my race.  I limped along to the finish line and completed my second half marathon.

no big smile, just a big sigh of relief to be finished

Soaking wet, I grabbed my medal and the warm sheet and hobbled to the little expo inside the stadium.  It hurt to move.  It hurt to breathe.  Where Nike was a mentally tough race, Amica was equally a physically tough race.  Instead of the tirade of curse words, my only question was “When am I going to get good at this?”  I am hoping with proper training runs (somewhat lacking between the San Francisco & Seattle races), my third half marathon will be the race where it all comes together.  Amica Seattle half had great moments and it had less than stellar moments but there was no pity party at the end.  I completed my second half marathon.  With the help of a truly amazing friend.

M{squared} had a race goal for me which she refused to share (good for her!) and minus the two med tent stops, I would have made it.  Including the med tent stops, I still PR’d by six minutes at 3:51:xx.  Good day in terms of race stats.  Although, it was far above the time I wanted to come in under. Without the med tent stops, my time was 3:30:xx, a potential 27 minute PR.  This is why my third half is going to be the one.  I am overly focused on getting my training in – which includes 5 a.m. runs across the bridge this week.  Add in the strength training, Yukon Do It will be the race.


1) Finish the race – CHECK
2) Beat my time in San Francisco – CHECK
3) Have a good time – at least half the race, I had a great time; the other half I was focused purely on finishing.  The average is pretty good.

This race is on my list for 2012.  I feel like it deserves a second go when I’m better at this whole racing thing.  And maybe by then, my type A race personality will have mellowed a bit.

The forecast all week: rain.  Rain.  And more rain.

Wednesday night as I was thinking about leaving work, this sunset graced our skyline.

I had forgotten how amazingly awesome the sunset can be in the Pacific Northwest in winter.  A little prayer to keep this same weather throughout Thursday morning for regional Turkey Trots was sent.  Then it could rain through Black Friday in hopes it would finally let up Sunday morning for the half & full marathons in Seattle.

What I woke up to Thursday morning:

I have been a bit worried about this Turkey Trot, well, running in general.  I have somehow injured my knee during crossfit (stupid dead lifts) and it seemed to get worse throughout the week.  I ran five miles the past weekend to see how it would hold up & instead of hobbling along, I improved my pace by about 20 seconds.  Throughout this race, my mind traveled between walking and running the half on Sunday.  And then I questioned the state of my guts.  (It wasn’t until the end of the race I moved from the coward end of the spectrum.)

I struggled the first mile of the race & I owe a HUGE apology to the crossfit coach because I said there are no hills along the harbor.  Landscape looks dramatically different depending on your mode of transportation – a huge difference between walking & running.  Jokes on me.  Because there are hills and apparently some pretty big ones on the 10k course.  My first mile, I felt like I was running in molasses.  I believed there was no way I could beat last year’s race time.  I didn’t hear the GPS app in my headset clear me of mile one and didn’t hear it at the halfway point (frustrating).  I was getting no where.  I did stop for this photo op (Mt Rainier to the left):

I made it to the halfway mark and turned around to retrace my steps to the finish line.  As we all know, I run with mental baggage.  And on the way back, there were two things I could not let happen.  The first was that I had to look strong when I passed my mom & sister.  And the second was not being passed by any of my TNT teammates or my crossfit coach.  The last mile seemed easy and upon sight of the finish line, I picked up my pace.  (My friend LJ said I looked really strong.  I counter that with “no matter what the beginning or the middle of a race will do to you, you have to cross the finish line strong.”)

I didn’t PR (personal record) but had I not stopped to take several photos, I would have.  {Note to self: don’t take photos if you want to set a PR.}  However, when compared to last year’s Turkey Trot (and first race ever), I shaved 5 1/2 minutes from my time.  I can also officially say I’ve been running for a year.

Last year, as soon as I crossed the finish line, I hightailed it back to my car, drove home and begun peeling potatoes.  This year was totally different (plus I didn’t have to peel potatoes).  It made my favorite holiday that much better to have seen my friends (runner or not) at the finish line.  It was also infinitely cooler to have my mom & sister participate (their first Turkey Trot!) and I will keep pushing to make this a new Thanksgiving tradition.

I have struggled the past few days with how to share the half marathon experience with everyone.  There were highs & there were lows.  Also, I did not want the over arching theme to be my own malaise.  But how do you share every part and still have people understand it was what it was and that I don’t need a motivating pep talk?  As well as the morphing emotions the more removed I am from the event.

So, all the dirty details including my own mental tantrum…

The week prior to the race everyone was curious about my anxiety / excitement level.  I was not thinking about the race; I felt the best option was to deny the race was even taking place.  The night before the race I was still practicing denial and was told I looked unnaturally calm.  The morning of the race waiting in the lobby of the hotel, I was still hanging out in denial.  Maybe less denial & more avoidance.  I am going to employ this for all future races because it prevented my brain from over thinking every minute detail.

Union Square was a mess of 20,000+ runners & walkers.  Baggage check was akin to crazy mob scenes.  Runners ready to race do not always think clearly: ten buses to drop off bags and everyone was crushing toward the first bus, ignoring the others.  Total mad house.  Finally clear of the mob, the race set to begin, music and gps ready, I head slowly toward the start line.

GOAL #1: Start slow and do not get wrapped up in racing someone else’s race.  My friend took off as soon as she crossed the start line and I let her go.  Fur Elise on my ipod, I began to run through downtown San Francisco.  The road full of runners was not a concern (it usually bothers me to be so crowded) and I followed my plan.  Gold star for moi.

GOAL #2: Don’t let your brain get ahead of your body.  Part of my issue is over thinking in a race.  Any small thing could be the disastrous straw that broke the camels back.  Too far in my head and I may as well pack up.

Mile 1-3: There are songs on my playlist I don’t remember hearing during the race.  These were my gold star moments where I was running in the moment.  Running through the Embarcadero, seeing Fisherman’s Wharf and not realizing it was a lot more Disneyland-esque and covered more ground then what I visited a few years ago.  Ran past the In & Out Burger and decided “that’s where I’m having lunch today.”  (Didn’t happen.  I didn’t want to walk anywhere after the race – plus the chafed body parts didn’t want to move either.)   Ran the first hill – baby hill.  The second hill – a bit bigger.  But here is where I made my first mental mistake and why I will never pay attention to the course elevation again: I thought I was done with the hills.  The rest of the race would be smooth sailing.  Little did I know, those hills were nothing.

Mile 4-6:  Still running strong.  Glimpses of the Golden Gate Bridge to keep me company.  Dancers along the course – totally awesome.  This is the view when you turned around.  It was an overwhelming moment: I started running downtown and here I was looking on downtown in the distance.

Mile 7-9:  This is also where “the hill” starts.  I ran past a group of drummers and then walked the hill.  I can give no perspective because it felt like I was walking that hill for hours.  Team in Training mentors, captains & managers were waiting at the top of the hill and I received a hug from our region manager (so needed).  On the downhill portion, I started to run but ran into a cramp in the arch of my right foot.  It hurt to push off, so I continued to walk.  Enter mental tantrum.  With each step, there was a running tirade in my head: how does anyone decide to run more than one half marathon?  How do people run a full?  Why is running so fun during training but races royally suck?  I’m NEVER doing this again.

Mile 10-11:  Exiting the Presidio Park: still walking through San Francisco neighborhoods, still with a nagging cramp in my arch.  Each time I saw the first aid station, I considered stopping – for potential blisters and for the arch cramp.  But each time, I walked past the aid station thinking I could push through to the next one & if the pain worsened, I would stop.  This is also where I found the 2nd hill.  Although the grade seemed reasonable, it went on for blocks and blocks.  The mental tantrum grew louder.  Add in my nagging disappointment.

Mile 12-13.1:  Each time a TNT coach walked with me during the course, they asked how I was feeling.  Each time my response, “I just want this to be over.”  The mental tantrum was louder now and I have conveniently forgotten most of it.  From the beginning of the season, I knew I would cry at the finish line.  I was so mad, I didn’t even think about the miles I had run/walked.  I was grateful it was over.  I picked up my finisher necklace, checked in at the TNT tent, ran into my teammates (who were all ecstatic – do you know how frustrating it is to be in a foul mood when everyone is cheerleader happy?) and picked up my lunch.  As my teammates cheered people into the finish, I grabbed the shuttle back to the hotel.

Sunday “pity party”: I know I am hard on myself.  I didn’t accomplish the three goals I set up (not mentioned above) before the race.  I was mad with my time.  I was mad that I had run 11 miles three weeks prior to the race and I couldn’t get past 6-7 on this course.  I was mad I didn’t run after walking up the 1st big hill.  There was a lot of disappointment too.  *This is where people insert the pep talk.  Sometimes I need the pity party.  Because usually this happens…

Monday:  As other people’s stories were shared, I realized I wasn’t the only one who struggled.  One of our hardcore runners said this was the second hardest course he had ever run.  Another teammate was found sitting at mile 16, tears streaming down her face.   Another teammate ran/walked with her to get her to the finish line and in the process was turned around to head toward the finish line, but meant she wouldn’t complete the full marathon.  Another teammate was the last to cross the finish line, seconds later, she would have been swept up and driven to the end.  Not that other’s struggles made me feel better but I did feel like I was not alone in the struggle.

Tuesday:  After the pity party, I am usually in fix-it mode.  How do I make this better for the next race?  What did I learn?  I realized each first race at a new distance, I have had a similar experience: the anger followed by a steel resolve.  My first races have been awful; my performance not up to my standards/expectations.  But as I kept working on it, the subsequent race performances were much improved.  Lessons learned may follow later – this is already too long!

There you have it: the leave nothing out race recap.  Last but not least… the as-flattering-as-it-gets race photos.

running across the finish line...(there is a smile - b/c I was so happy to be FINISHED!!)

steps past the finish line...

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 10 other followers


Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

on the road