Friday, June 29, 2007

Something is Stirring

Something is stirring beneath the surface - poking at the veil, wanting to be released. Something fiery and mighty, a winged beast whose time has nearly come. She is the athlete within, dormant for far too long, biding her time in the cold ashes, knowing that one day, it will be her turn. She is the gutsy broad who goes for what she wants, fear and pain and inconvenience be damned. She is the phoenix and she's almost ready to fly.

I first felt it last night, during a crazy hard session on my trainer - ACDC, Guns and Roses and Led Zepplin shaking my rafters, sweat making puddles on my carpet, quads and hams and hip flexors simultaneously screaming for more and begging for less. Underneath it all, a barely audible roar. Not a threat or a protest but a cry of joy and promise. Anticipation.

It came again as I practiced my transition, changing from bike shoes to running shoes with lightning precision - a familiar feeling hearkening back to my days on the stage, a quick change and off you go into another day, another scene, another life - and dashing out the door. My doubt that my legs would be up to the task was replaced with the bliss of feet springing off of pavement - legs that should have been heavy with fatigue exuberant as newborn colts bucking across April grass. The roar was louder this time, a song about the base pleasure of moving a body that's been trained to move. A body that doesn't have to be elite to love the feeling of speed - my speed, my pace, my dance.

So it seems that while I've been down here in my pit - a place not nearly as bleak as I may have made it sound - I've been doing more than looking at my rock collection. I've been building a fire.

Small now - tiny twigs, some coal - nothing to flare it up too fast. That time will come, now is the time to smolder. In a week, I'll feed it larger fodder until its a roaring blaze. And two weeks from Sunday, July 15, 2007 at 7:30 a.m., the dawn of my First Tri Ever, I will let her loose.

I don't know what's going to happen. I may fly. I may trip. I may fizzle out before the finish. It doesn't really matter. It can't be a coincidence that we call this race a Tri. I will try. And that will be enough.

(Thanks to Bold for reminding me what I am.)

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Take these Broken Wings . . .

Blackbird singin' in the dead of night . . .

I don't know if its the recent death of Kevin Hunt, hormones, nearing the end of a short and rather unsuccessful peak phase, or my impending race (probably all of the above) - but I am just way down in the dumps. Checkin' out the slimy bottom and wonderin' what I left down here that makes it necessary for me to visit. But here I am.

Take these sunken eyes

And its okay, really. This sadness, this uncertainty. It feels like everywhere I turn right now, I'm reminded of my limitations, my fears, my dissapointments. Mostly, I guess, because they're here and they need some attention now and again - like even the most obstinate red headed step child. They need to be visited and ruminated over and stroked for awhile before I can put them away and struggle onward.

And learn to see

Its funny how these moments of sadness, triggered by events that happen around me but not necessarily to me, cause me to visit my own tragedies - the large and the small. The self created and the uncalled for. All of these are like my own personal little rock collection, here at the bottom of my version of "the dumps". Some of them are polished and refined until they're pretty - I'm proud of these, they prove to me what I'm made of. Others are dirty, rough and ignored - things I'd rather forget, but can't. They're all mine, all here, some poke and bruise while others empower and encourage, but they're my weight to carry or drop. Usually, I leave them here, sometimes, I carry them around. It really all depends.

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

When I was going through my divorce, this song gave me courage. I knew that even though I was "damaged" in a way, I could and would still learn to fly. It wasn't until later that I realized that we're all broken, in one way or another, and those of us who are flying have learned to do it with broken wings. Those I had admired from the ground weren't up there because of better luck or genetic superiority, but because they had learned to take their knocks and move on.

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

I had the delusion back then that once I learned to fly, I would never find myself in this dump again. I somehow equated flight, freedom and growth with a graduation from sorrow. But I still find myself here, now and again, examining the griefs that have both helped and hindered my journey. It seems that evolution is a one step forward two step back proposition. And Personal Growth isn't a place we arrive at and stay for the duration of our lifetime. Life is not a linear journey, even when we follow the path that was meant for us. Its a circle through sky and dump, grimy mud and cleansing water, grief and joy, pain and triumph. This is our race and the best we can hope for is that we keep putting one foot in front of the other and reach the finish line with pride, knowing we left it all out there on the course. Knowing we didn't hold anything back.

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.

(Thanks to Jeanne for the inspiration for this post. And thanks to all of you for your kind words of comfort and for your prayers for Kevin Hunt's family.)

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Triathlete Down.

I'm not sure about posting this. I'm not sure I have a right, really. I didn't know this guy, wasn't part of the race (though many of my teammates were), but it still makes me so sad.

Last weekend, while I was busy bemoaning my silly calf cramp and getting beaten by a guy in cotton, while many of the Tri Blog Alliance were out there kicking butt in their own races, a 28 year old man named Kevin Hunt drowned just 50 feet from the beach at the finish of a 500m open water swim in his first triathlon. His father was watching from the beach and heard him shout "Help!" and then go down. He came up once more and then went down for good. Neither his father, the kayaks, nor the 100 athlete human chain that formed to rescue him were able to get to him in time. He was an avid cyclist from High Ridge, the town I cycle to when I'm looking for some hill torture - he may have even been one of the many cyclists I've seen when out on that route. I just can't stop thinking about him, his race, his family and what it all means - if it really means anything.

We all owe a death. He paid his debt doing something he wanted to do, something he'd trained months for. I suppose there are worse ways to go. And the one hundred triathletes who were on shore waiting for their wave to start and launched a rescue attempt of their own say much for the people who make this sport their lifestyle. Still, this is haunting me - as I'm sure it is haunting many local triathletes, particularly us newbs. It seems selfish to make it about me but I can't help but admit that it strikes terror into my heart to think that this happened. My great consolation in the open water has been that I'm not going to drown. But it CAN happen, it DID happen. I'm sure it doesn't happen very often, and I know that people drown in pools and rivers and all kinds of places that I'm not afraid to go. So why does this scare me so much?

I suppose that those of us who crave challenges (triathletes, adventure seekers, etc.) are defying death, in a way. We shake our fists at that which we know will catch us eventually. It may be sooner, it may be later (we hope its later!) but we will not cower from it. Still, when its shadow passes over us, we cannot help but shudder. I fear for myself - but I also fear for the ones I would leave behind. Reading about Kevin's father standing helplessly on the shore, I thought of my own father, husband and son. What would they do if it were me that sunk into the abyss? I know they would be devastated but I think they would be angry with me as well - for putting myself in the position of being taken from them. Maybe that's what I'm ultimately afraid of - that stain on their memory of me, to be to blame for my own absence. But, really, life is dangerous. Driving in a car, flying in a plane, walking down the street - many people die everyday doing these things. So why the guilt for doing something the general public feels is inherently dangerous - which proves to be inherently dangerous occasionally?

In the meantime, Kevin Hunt's family mourns and second guesses and wishes for answers where there are none. Say a prayer or two or a hundred for them.

Post Script - Kevin's family has asked that, in lieu of flowers, donations be sent to the LiveStrong Foundation in his name.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Race Report (Bet you didn't see that coming!)

Soooo. . . I had a little race today. I didn't not post about it on purpose - I just honestly kept kind of forgetting about it. I viewed it as a hard training day and that's pretty much how it went. The outcome, however was somewhat in question after yesterday's swim. Its funny how in an instant your entire perspective changes - sometimes its in a minor "life event" like a race, sometimes its more major. Thankfully, this time around it was a minor event and a minor glitch. It still managed to occupy my mind for a good 24 hours.

I dutifully awoke at 4:30 yesterday morning to put in some much needed yardage at the pool. It was a beautiful, warm morning and the water felt fabulous after a week away from swimming. I decided to do sets of 300m to begin "peak phase" for my upcoming First Tri Ever. All went well (though much slower than I would like, as usual) until my 9th set. I was pushing of the wall for the last 50m when my calf suddenly knotted up into a ball of fiery pain. I couldn't move my foot and it was all I could do to not holler. I clung to the wall, attempting Lamaze like breathing and trying to massage my calf back to its normal, non-painful self. It just wasn't cooperating. After what seemed like several minutes, it loosened up enough to allow me to swim the last 50m at a snail like pace. I dragged myself out of the water and limped to my car. What the hell?!?!? I was hoping that after a nap and some hydration that it would let up and I could get in my long run as planned. I had already decided that I wouldn't taper for todays race since it was a training exercise and not a PR attempt. It didn't get better and only seemed to stiffen up with rest. I nixed my long run and hoped for the best.

Now, the race is in my home town of Ballwin, the same venue as my upcoming First Tri Ever (three weeks to go!). It also happened to be located along the bike course for my FTE so the plan was to do a brick. As of last night, I was just hoping I'd still be able to do the race.

I got up at 5:00am, ate some breakfast, packed my run bag and loaded it into the car. Hubby was going to meet me at packet pick up at 7:00. My calf felt stiff but seemed to improve as I warmed up. There was nothing left to do but give it a shot. So, I set out on my bike, rode to the race course and hammered out three laps (the race will only be two). I was pretty pleased with my speed - I timed two laps (total 9 miles) at about 32 min. My goal is to do it in 30 but I think with hammering the hills a little harder and airing up my tires (I noticed that my front was a little low going into the second loop) and with the excitement of the race that I can shave those two minutes off. I arrived as scheduled at packet pick up and Hubby was there to meet me. My plan was coming together.

The race went relatively well. I decided to try and start a little easier and save some juice for the end. That didn't really work out - my first mile was 8:08, second 8:48, third 9:37. Yeah, so I went for a positive split. I came in at 26:33. One minute slower than my PR. Again, not so great. My heart rate remained at 180 the entire time. I managed to get it to 184 a couple of times but I couldn't seem to maintain that effort. Everytime I looked for more juice, I just didn't have it. I felt strong throughout, passed a lot of people, encouraged a couple of runners who were struggling, but never felt like I could just "give a little more." I don't know if it was my cycling legs - which I felt in the second mile - or the fact that I gave myself "permission" to not PR or what. It just wasn't happening. However, I did have a fun race. I did race as hard as I felt able at that moment in time. I was able to dig a little in the last stretch before the finish line and that felt good.

And one minute off PR isn't too shabby for a race right after a 16+ mile bike ride that I hammered out. And, considering that my goal for the run in my FTE is under 30 minutes, that time is encouraging.

The worst news is . . .

I got beat by a kid and a guy running in this races' T-shirt. Not. Good. (click on picture to enlarge - that's me huffing it in the background)

Thursday, June 21, 2007


As you see above, my blog is rated PG. Thanks to Nytro for that little informative bit of information. She got an NC-17, by the way. Much cooler than my PG. Could I get any more tame? I always thought I was a wild thing. Maybe I should say the f word more.

In other, more relevant news, my training has sort of sporadically sucked ass (take that PG rating). Not in its quality as much as in its consistency and quantity. It seems like I can't get all the planned workouts in for more than one discipline per week - and sometimes not even that. I'm worried that I'm getting lax and will feel it come race time - particularly in September when I attempt my A race - the Lake St. Louis Oly. The problem is, when I manage to get everything in, I find I'm suffering from sleep deprivation - so it seems I have to choose between doing it all or sleeping - and sleeping seems to be helping almost as much as training - at least on a daily level. My fear is that it will prove to be less useful on the racing level. What's a girl to do? I definitely feel my fitness improving - but the numbers on my little ticker over there are less than impressive. This week, the swim is suffering as I haven't gotten in the pool since Saturday. Once a week ain't gonna cut it, people! Of course, the beginning of the week I was suffering some major GI distress due to an overindulgence in the Dreaded Dairy on Saturday. Thanks to my Sister In Law who puts cheese in everything - even tea. Ok, not tea, but in everything else. So, due to said GI stress, my Monday swim was ix-neyed.

Any input? Is my Oly going to kill me with this minimal training I've been spitting out? Is sleep as important as miles and yards? Who shot JR? Any information is appreciated.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

That. Was. Awesome.

First, for the record, there was really a rabbit. The part about him being white and having sharp teeth and killing all those knighty guys, I made up. Or rather the funny lunatics across the pond that created Monty Python made it up. I just thought I'd clarify because I didn't want you thinking that: a) I made the entire thing up and there wasn't a rabbit or b) that I dress up in those knight type costumes. Because I don't. Anymore. I don't want to talk about that anymore.

ANYWAY - there was a rabbit and he did come out of the corn fields and directly into our path on some Kamikaze mission to kill and/or mangle the nice bikers and their bikes who are trying to be more green and stuff by riding their bikes around instead of like their cars so I'm really not sure what his problem was. Maybe he worked for the oil companies. We'll never know for sure because, by some miracle, his evil plan failed and I didn't run over him. I'm still not sure how I missed because the last view I had of him was centimeters in front of my swiftly moving tire. It must have been a miracle.

That said, I have to tell you about my bike ride this evening. I went to Babler Park, a beautiful park with wide, smooth roads, very little traffic, and killer hills. And I got up to 41 miles per hour. 41!!!!! On my bike!! So, Bold, I wasn't in aero and it wasn't 45 but, DAMN, you were right!!! Who'dve thunk it a couple of months ago when I couldn't keep my damn bike rubber side down - but there I was, FLYING down the hill at 41 miles per hour (that's more than twice what the speed limit was. I was speeding! ON MY BIKE!!!) And you know what else . . . it wasn't scary. Not even a little. It effing ROCKED!!!

Now, I have to add a caveat that on the uphills I got down to the shameful speed of 5. Wheezing and begging for mercy going 5. Not. Pretty.

But the downhill made up for it. And that is enough for me.

Monday, June 18, 2007

It Came to Pass In Days of Yore . . .

I had a great ride yesterday with my friend Mary Ann from bootcamp (yes, she has a friend named Ginger, let's not go there). We went out to Columbia and tore up about 33 miles. There was some time for chatting, some time for sweating and even a quick break for Sharkies. However, on our way back, we had a near fatal encounter with this mythical creature:

It came running out of the corn fields and crossed the road, directly in front of our tires. We were, of course in aero going 20 miles an hour and with little to no reaction time. It barely cleared Mary Ann's tire then came for mine - I could do nothing but pray that the beast would have mercy on me. Thankfully, he'd had his fill of blood that day and all of us (Marianne, myself and the rabbit) escaped unharmed. We would all live to race another day.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

I'm Okay!!

Thank you, all, for your messages of support. You really helped me get it together and "Gitter dun".

It was set up as a lap swim with each out and back equaling 200 meters. The first 200, I couldn't get my breath and had to keep turning over and floating on my back. I did the breast stroke for awhile a few times too, but even that seemed to wear me out. At that point, I told myself it was totally fine to cut it short at 400 meters. It was, after all, my first open water swim. And it was kind of freaky. The water was very dirty, there were other swimming, thrashing bodies around - though much fewer than will be there at the race - there was no wall to push off of, you know, it was a little freaky and I was a little panicked. So, I promised myself I could come in after 400. So I did the 400 and decided to go for 600. With 600 down, I thought I could do 800. By that point, I had calmed down, was feeling pretty confident in my sighting and knew I could finish the whole thing.

I was still pretty convinced that I would be last out of the water but at least I would know that I hadn't DNFd. As I finished my last lap, I was amazed to see there were still a small group of people right in front of me. So, I could be last, but I wouldn't be out there swimming for 20 minutes with no one else in the water. When I emerged (the only one to get out of the water to applause - thanks, Hubby!), I was amazed to discover there were still a couple of people out there. I wasn't last!!

My time kind of, well, it was kind of weak - 47 minutes and change. That panic cost me a few minutes, for sure. But I did it.

And I saw SBR guy. And Hubby came out to watch and he got to meet SBR guy. And the folks running the event were very supportive and upbeat. And, the park was just beautiful, the water was warm, the trail was smooth for my very short bike ride after. There was even a trail/lakeside restaurant with live music where Hubby and I had dinner. Very cool.

So it was a very positive experience - and I'm glad to have my first open water behind me. Phew.

I'll do it again in a couple of weeks!

Wednesday, June 13, 2007


So, tonight, I'm going for my first real life, actual, in fact open water swim. Sure, I swam for like 10 minutes in the ocean in Mexico and for like 5 or 10 minutes in the Hooza river, marveling that if I adjusted my stroke speed, it was like an endless pool. But I haven't really done any open water swimming.

Its time.

SBR guy
is one of the organizers of this biweekly event and I have finally gathered the courage to attend. They are holding open water swim "races" every other Wednesday night at Creve Coeur Lake - I put "races" in quotations because I know I won't be "racing" this evening. I'll be happy if I'm not "drowning" by the end of it all. So, the plan is 1600 open water meters followed by an hour easy cruise on the bike. I'm nervous. No, not true, I'm actually semi-terrified. I'm semi-terrified of the following things in the following order:

1) Drowning.

2) Getting cancer or some bizarre bacterial illness from the crap in the water (they do test the water the day before each swim but it scares me anyway)

3) Being DFL in the water with people coming up to me and asking if I'm OK.


If any of you have any advice or positive mantras to pass on, I'd be grateful. Writing this is making me even more nervous.

As the infamous and well loved Winnie the Pooh is so fond of saying:

Oh, help.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Test Report

Well, its over. That's one thing.

I think it went pretty well but its nearly impossible to tell. And, unlike a race, the results won't be ready for three weeks or so, so I have no idea,really.

It was definitely an endurance event of sorts, without the aid stations. We weren't even allowed access to our water during the test - it was limited to the break which occurred midway into the test. If I score poorly, I'm blaming the fact that I wasn't properly hydrated. I wanted to get an athlete's waiver to allow my water on my desk, but I didn't apply in time.

I was, with the exception of the proctors, the oldest person in the room. I got some funny looks from the young co-eds, particularly the slew of girls in Victoria's Secret "Pink" sweats and flip flops. I think they made up about 75% of the test takers. They'll probably all score 180 and make me look like an idiot.

Thanks to Bolder, Vickie, Donald, Stronger, and Pirate for sending luck my way. If I score well, it will be in no small part due to your good vibes. THANKS!!

If I don't, I'm really fine with it. I'm still not 100% sure I want to go to Law School or what I want to be when I grow up. So, if I bombed the test, I know that path wasn't the one. Of course I'd rather have all options open, but it will be what it will be. At least now I can put my focus back on my training and getting ready for my First Ever Tri July 15th - Less than 5 Weeks Away?!?!?! Whoo Hoo - I will be ready!!

Monday, June 11, 2007

Test Time

Well, this day has come a lot more quickly than I expected. Its LSAT day. I've done some work (I wish I'd done more, but isn't that always the case when its time to toe the line?), I've printed my ticket, I've sharpened my pencils. Its time to do this thing.

As Bolder says, may my preparation meet my opportunity. It will be what it will be.

Wish me luck.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Mythology Revisited

I've been thinkin'. (oh-oh, you say, here we go again!). I've been thinking about the lies I've been telling myself. And the lies you've been telling yourself. A few posts back I mused about "debunking the myths I made up about myself." I'm coming to believe more and more that this is the core purpose of training for me - and perhaps even for my being here on this planet.

One Big Lie: I'm slow. Now, I'm not talking about recognizing your limitations - that's a good thing, it guides you to the places you'd like to improve and helps motivate you to push forward - IF you believe you can overcome those limitations. I'm talking about the labels we give ourselves - the ones we tattoo on our brains until they become our inescapable truths. Well guess what, people, the "truths" we've been relying on to keep ourselves in our place are LIES. I'm not slow. This is a heart stopping shock to me - I've believed for years that Slow defined my athletic ability, that it was a "truth" I'd just have to accept and move on. Sure, I did speed work and hill work but I knew that the inescapable fact was that I Was Slow. Total, Absolute Lie.

I was comparing my 5k time (which I understand was not stellar, by any means - I still have a long way to go and I will probably never be "elite", there's my caveat) to other women my age in the St. Louis area. You know what, small race or not, I'm in the "above average" category. That's not slow. That's above average.

Now, I'm actually not going on and on about this to toot my own horn (which isn't really a bad thing in and of itself) or to boast or even to say "Yeah, me!" It just hit me that if I've been laboring under these delusions about myself, then a lot of other people probably are too. After all, humans are probably more alike than different when you get down to it. And I want us all to Stop It! Why do we do this to ourselves? Is it an excuse we give ourselves for not trying our best to fulfill our greatest potential? Is it because, deep down, we've been convinced that we shouldn't think too awfully much of ourselves? What?

Whatever the reason, we are robbing ourselves and the human race as a whole by denying our magnificence and lying our way into mediocrity. We owe the world our best. And all of us are, in our unique and varied ways, magnificent. Sure, we all have our talents and shortcomings, we all have warts and imperfections and things we're ashamed of. But, we come into this world with enough of those things - we don't need to invent more. So, I'm challenging all of you to just quit it. Start challenging the labels you've given yourself. Start asking yourself where they came from. Start letting go of that destructive mythology. Life is hard enough. Embrace your magnificence, people, and quit the bullshit!

Lecture over. Go out there and kick some ass.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

It's Official

Official Results
Time: 25:35"11
3rd Place Female 30-39


Man, only a tenth of a second or so and This Chick

Would've been third and I'd have been second.

Oh, well. No regrets. This is the first time ever that I've even come close to placing - so it was a small race, I'm still proud.

All the waiting . . . .

Was totally worth it!!

Thanks for your support, everyone!!! You guys really helped me to believe that I could do it - and believing is half the battle.

Monday, June 4, 2007

An Incomplete Race Report

It was a great race. That's the main take home message, right up front. I had a great race.

The morning was beautiful, I had plenty of sleep, felt energetic and rested. My legs didn't feel quite as fresh as I'd have liked but a short warm up seemed to loosen them up and I was ready.

It was a very small crowd - less than a hundred - and quite a contrast to my last race, the St. Patrick's Day 5 mile race which hosted over 5,000 runners. Even so, as I was planning to PR, I didn't want to seed myself too far back and be impeded by slower runners in front of me, so I set myself towards the front of the pack and decided to try and hang on to my position as long as I could.

My first faux pas was forgetting to start my watch when the horn went off. I didn't realize my mistake until somewhere between 30 seconds and a minute had passed, so I can't give my exact splits, but I have a relatively good idea.

I started out a little too hard and my heart rate was quickly near 190 - a hill at the start didn't help. First mile: just under 8 minutes. But, I wasn't kicking myself because I was running this race as an experiment - I wondered if I could start out at what I considered a hard pace and build on it. The answer was a resounding "NO" and my second mile was considerably slower than my first: 8:45. I let my heart rate dip to 183 during the middle portion, trying to hold off at least a little juice until the end. I was incredibly relieved to see the second water stop - only a little more than a mile to go - and I tried to kick it up another notch. Another steep hill brought my heart rate to above 190 and there it stayed for the remainder - in fact it shot up to 195 at the finish, but I'm not there quite yet. As I turned in for the last half mile or so, the first of the front of the pack came loping back for his cool down and was shouting encouragement to those of us struggling to maintain our position in the mid-front of the pack. He was like Noah's dove returning with the olive branch - the finish was near! By this point, I was focused on only one thing - holding onto my pace until the finish. I barely saw the volunteers pointing the way to the finish, didn't see the handful of people at the finish line, I only saw the finish, tried to speed up a little though felt like all I could do was maintain. That's when I heard her coming up from behind - she was breathing hard and determined to overtake me. Something in my brain hollered "OH NO YOU DON'T BEYOTCH" and somewhere I found the will to run harder. Unfortuneatly, her will/reserves/speed was greater than mine and she took me out about a foot before the finish line. I was somewhat gratified to see her puking just past the finish - she passed me but it cost her. I later thanked her for challenging me on that last stretch - if she hadn't given me a fight, I would not have found that last bit of speed left in my legs.

After the race, I tried to find a discreet place to collapse. Unlike my rival, I did not lose any nutrition - though I thought I would a few times. Timing faux pas number two happened when I forgot to stop my watch once I crossed the finish - and The Chick Who Passed Me prevented me from noticing the clock when I crossed. I think I caught it within 30 sec. Which puts my last mile at about 7:45, give or take 10 or 15 seconds. It took me a couple of minutes to catch my breath and gather my senses, but then I felt pretty great and decided to jog back down the course to see if I could find Hubby, who was also racing despite a nagging calf injury. He rounded the pavilion just as I was setting off - he had finished just a minute or two after I did. I was anxious for the results, so I didn't take off for a cool down, a decision I regret as it would have made the wait go a bit faster.

So we waited. Shortly after the last walker crossed the line, they gave away door prizes. Hubby won a free oil change.

We waited some more.

And some more.

There was apparently some problem with properly tabulating the results. Discussions ensued. And we waited.

Finally, they announced that they were ready - the moment of truth! Mostly, I just wanted my time - but I also thought I had a decent chance of placing in my age group which would be a first. The Chick Who Passed Me was definately in my age group, but the only others who passed me were young 'uns.

First they announced the top three men. And screwed that up. Cheering Kid was announced as being third and he and others contended he was fourth. So they corrected it. We think.

Next they announced the top three women - there was no apparent error there.

Then they announced top three 19 and under men, top three 20 - 29 men and women (they were still confused about top three 19 and under women) and they stopped there. They just couldn't figure it out.

We were disappointed but understanding - except for one lady who looked to be in the 50 and over - and probably the only runner in her age group - who just got nasty with the poor race organizers. It was ugly, really. They didn't lose her kidney or squander her life savings or anything, it really wasn't worth getting so evil over.

When the smoke cleared, we went to see if we could at least get my time. Their best guess pointed to my time being . . . drum roll please. . .

Okay, let me just say that to PR, I would have had to run under 29:00, which I was pretty confident I could do. I told myself I would be very happy with a time around 27:00.

That being said, my unofficial, best guess time was aproximately 25:34. We know for certain (relatively) it was something under 26:00. Yeah. I ran that. Me. Slow Chick. Under 26:00. Probably something around 25:00! 25:00?!?!?! I'm very pleased.

Even though I got passed and I wish I hadn't.

Even if I don't place in my age group, which I might, I am thrilled with that time.

And the rest of the day was great. The event was a deal where you bought tickets to try "tastes" of several area restaurants. With our race entry, we each got 5 tickets plus a ticket for free cake back at the park - which due to a sudden thunderstorm we had to skip. The absense of cake was just as well as we were totally stuffed by the time we'd used all of our tickets and sampled some great food from some fabulous restaurants. What a way to finish a race!

I was really proud of Hubby too. He ran despite some discomfort (hopefully not to his detriment) and came in with a time of 27 and change. That's a great time considering he was, in his own words, "running with one leg." Way to go, Hubby and thanks for coming along and supporting me on this crazy day!

I've got to thank you all as well. Your encouragment has meant so much to me these past months - and I see it all over the blog community. People support each other in this little virtual neighborhood and I think that's a grand thing to be part of.

Hopefully, by tomorrow they'll have the official results and I can post those along with pictures. Until then . . . I pray that I have the strength to not become like Cranky Lady and curse the officials for taking so long. Amen.

Friday, June 1, 2007

A Little Race

Sooo . . . I have a little race tomorrow. A 5k near my old South City neighborhood. And I'm not nervous. Exactly.

I'm actually really amazed that I'm so lassais faire about a 5k. My first race ever was a 5k when my son was just a baby and it seemed massive at the time. Three plus miles as fast as I could run - and I was praying to get in under 30 min - which I don't think I did. Now, while I'm not sure my time is going to be a whole lot better, 5k seems like a cake walk. Which has got me worried.

Because - I seem to like to worry. And, also because pride goeth before a fall. As does bonk. And over confidence. So, maybe I should start getting nervous?

I have tapered for it - I've cut my running volume the last couple of days, did some speed work on Tuesday, tempo Wednesday and some short jogs yesterday. But I'm not feelin' the magnitude, ya' know? I really want to do this baby all out - I need to see how my LT has progressed since the St. Pat's five miler - and I feel its good prep for the run portion of my Very First Tri Ever in July. 6 WEEKS AWAY!!! YIKES!

So - am I overthinking this, or what? And is it really too late to adjust anything anyway? I dunno. I guess I'm just looking for reassurance that my blase attitude is normal or okay or at least not a recipe for disaster.

Oh, and, um have a great weekend everyone!