It turns out that this weekend is Noncompetitive Charity 5K Weekend for me.
Tomorrow is my beloved Woofin' It 5K, and tonight, as I learned just two days ago, is the local Girls on the Run chapter's 5K.
This came about through book club. Back in April, one member mentioned she'd been coaching Girls on the Run and might need a few adult runners to help out at the final event — she'd check with other leaders and let us know.
I never heard anything, so I assumed they had enough adults. Actually, they didn't, and that information didn't make its way to my book buddy until this past Wednesday.
Fortunately, my boss was able to adjust my work schedule just a little bit, so I could then make good on my weeks-ago offer to accompany a young runner.
My understanding is, all I need to do is encourage my buddy to keep running and not walk. Shouldn't be too hard, unless I'm matched with a future track star who leaves me in her dust.
I also intend to appreciate Raccoon River Park, where I haven't been since my epic 5K last fall, and which should be springlike enough to make me believe winter is over.
And it'll be a chance for me to participate in, as well as observe, the running community's incredible supportiveness.
As I was either biking or running recently — I can't remember which — I found myself thinking about my experiences as a relative n00b in both areas.
Bicyclists seem happy to share their sport, but something about runners has always put me more at ease, regardless of my skill and knowledge gap.
Maybe it's that most of us agree running is harder, so runners have to go the extra mile (ha!) to welcome newcomers.
Or maybe it's because one's body is easier to understand than one's bicycle, if you're not mechanically inclined. And it could also be that I entered running with so little knowledge that being clueless wasn't embarrassing — it was expected.
Regardless: I'll be paying the Rockford, Ill., running crew's good deeds from 2009 to present forward tonight.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Runner's World mobility test provides a small victory
I like to think of myself as being relatively fit, but when a Runner's World fitness test offers the opportunity to prove that perception, I often decline.
Part of the problem is that I like to read before bed, then sleep off any ambition the articles might've stirred up.
Most of the problem is that I don't want to find out everything that's wrong with my running form, my strength, my flexibility, etc.
The mobility test in May's issue looked so easy, though, and I was so awake when I read it that I decided to actually take it.
I figured I would fail all three. The backs of my legs, from waist to ankle, have always been tight. Evidently I can blame my bad feet for that, which is some comfort but no cure.
Part one tested my ankles' mobility. I failed. Sort of a surprise, because I never think of my ankles, but not shocking.
Part two tested my hips' mobility. Another failure, this one far more expected. Deep into half marathon training for the past couple years, I'll notice stiffness and soreness there.
Part three tested my knees' mobility. I PASSED.
Given the difficulty I had simply prepping for the test — you lie on your stomach and loop a string around your foot, which is more coordination than I evidently have — I was waiting for an epic fail.
Instead, I got a victory. A double victory, really, because if you fail this test, it means your quads are tight, and that's what limits the knees' mobility.
So my knees are fine, and my quads — which are the stiffest for the longest after a half marathon — are are as well.
This might be the only time in my life when I consider 33 percent a passing score ... but I'll take it!
Part of the problem is that I like to read before bed, then sleep off any ambition the articles might've stirred up.
Most of the problem is that I don't want to find out everything that's wrong with my running form, my strength, my flexibility, etc.
The mobility test in May's issue looked so easy, though, and I was so awake when I read it that I decided to actually take it.
I figured I would fail all three. The backs of my legs, from waist to ankle, have always been tight. Evidently I can blame my bad feet for that, which is some comfort but no cure.
Part one tested my ankles' mobility. I failed. Sort of a surprise, because I never think of my ankles, but not shocking.
Part two tested my hips' mobility. Another failure, this one far more expected. Deep into half marathon training for the past couple years, I'll notice stiffness and soreness there.
Part three tested my knees' mobility. I PASSED.
Given the difficulty I had simply prepping for the test — you lie on your stomach and loop a string around your foot, which is more coordination than I evidently have — I was waiting for an epic fail.
Instead, I got a victory. A double victory, really, because if you fail this test, it means your quads are tight, and that's what limits the knees' mobility.
So my knees are fine, and my quads — which are the stiffest for the longest after a half marathon — are are as well.
This might be the only time in my life when I consider 33 percent a passing score ... but I'll take it!
Monday, May 5, 2014
Goal unlocked: Bike to work
I set five main goals for myself this year, and I've already achieved two of them — run a sub-7:30 mile and, now, bike to work.
This one was about as easy to achieve as any fitness goal will ever be, I think:
* It's Bike Month, so there's huge positive peer pressure.
* My commute to work is 1.75 miles downhill, or two miles downhill if I want a separate bike lane almost the entire time. (Heading home, obviously, is then uphill, but the cats care less about how smelly I might get than co-workers do.)
* Spring has finally arrived in Iowa — it's sunnier and warmer, but definitely not blinding and boiling.
* My gentleman friend has equipped the Shrimp with all the add-ons she needs: rack and bungees for hauling lunches; and front and rear lights to see and be seen.
Out of the three days I've worked thus far in May, I've commuted by bike for two of them, and I've enjoyed it so far. It's made me more punctual, as well as more eco-friendly and healthier.
We'll see how I feel about it as the temperatures climb — or the rain falls — but right now I can picture myself sticking with this beyond May.
 |
| As one co-worker pointed out: It's "bike all the way to your desk" month, apparently. |
* It's Bike Month, so there's huge positive peer pressure.
* My commute to work is 1.75 miles downhill, or two miles downhill if I want a separate bike lane almost the entire time. (Heading home, obviously, is then uphill, but the cats care less about how smelly I might get than co-workers do.)
* Spring has finally arrived in Iowa — it's sunnier and warmer, but definitely not blinding and boiling.
* My gentleman friend has equipped the Shrimp with all the add-ons she needs: rack and bungees for hauling lunches; and front and rear lights to see and be seen.
Out of the three days I've worked thus far in May, I've commuted by bike for two of them, and I've enjoyed it so far. It's made me more punctual, as well as more eco-friendly and healthier.
We'll see how I feel about it as the temperatures climb — or the rain falls — but right now I can picture myself sticking with this beyond May.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Upcoming race: Dam to Dam half marathon
As I mentioned in earlier posts about second-quarter and overall 2014 goals, I've signed up for this year's Dam to Dam race.
I'd been interested in doing it in the past, but its transition this year from a 20K to a half marathon sealed the deal. (OK, and so did the reports of how flat the route is.)
The race is May 31, which also lined up quite well with my two-week hiatus in early April as I prepared for, went on and recovered from vacation.
If the past two years are any indication, the heat and humidity might hold off a few more weeks; if not, the early start time (7 a.m.) could be my savior.
So of course, my goal is to break 2:00:00. I probably should set alternative goals, especially if the weather isn't looking auspicious for me, but I'll do that later.
Right now, hitting or breaking 2:00:00 looks feasible. It's not a slam-dunk, but I'm cautiously optimistic that the polar vortex and my time off won't be insurmountable obstacles.
I'll have to average a 9:09-per-mile pace to do it. Not a guarantee, yet also barely faster than what I averaged at the Des Moines Half (9:11). So how close am I?
During my first long run, an eight-miler, I was only concerned about getting the miles in without suffering. I ended up actually enjoying the whole run, except the buggy parts, so I achieved my only real goal.
I treated my second long run, a nine-miler, as a more important test, which I passed, with a 9:12 pace.
The splits are all over the board, from an 8:30 (flat path, calm weather) to 9:54 (half-mile-long hill into nearly 20 mph winds), but the majority are as fast or faster than goal pace.
Overall, the run took 1:22:55, leaving 37:04 for the remaining 4.1 miles. Though that's not outside the realm of possibility, I'd like more of a margin -- and, fortunately, I have faith that I can get it.
Race-day adrenaline will likely speed me up and keep me going earlier in the race. It's also safe to say the Dam to Dam route will be flatter and spend less time going west, which seems to be where Iowa winds come from.
So keep your fingers crossed for pleasant weather, and I'll handle the rest.
I'd been interested in doing it in the past, but its transition this year from a 20K to a half marathon sealed the deal. (OK, and so did the reports of how flat the route is.)
The race is May 31, which also lined up quite well with my two-week hiatus in early April as I prepared for, went on and recovered from vacation.
If the past two years are any indication, the heat and humidity might hold off a few more weeks; if not, the early start time (7 a.m.) could be my savior.
So of course, my goal is to break 2:00:00. I probably should set alternative goals, especially if the weather isn't looking auspicious for me, but I'll do that later.
Right now, hitting or breaking 2:00:00 looks feasible. It's not a slam-dunk, but I'm cautiously optimistic that the polar vortex and my time off won't be insurmountable obstacles.
I'll have to average a 9:09-per-mile pace to do it. Not a guarantee, yet also barely faster than what I averaged at the Des Moines Half (9:11). So how close am I?
During my first long run, an eight-miler, I was only concerned about getting the miles in without suffering. I ended up actually enjoying the whole run, except the buggy parts, so I achieved my only real goal.
I treated my second long run, a nine-miler, as a more important test, which I passed, with a 9:12 pace.
The splits are all over the board, from an 8:30 (flat path, calm weather) to 9:54 (half-mile-long hill into nearly 20 mph winds), but the majority are as fast or faster than goal pace.
Overall, the run took 1:22:55, leaving 37:04 for the remaining 4.1 miles. Though that's not outside the realm of possibility, I'd like more of a margin -- and, fortunately, I have faith that I can get it.
Race-day adrenaline will likely speed me up and keep me going earlier in the race. It's also safe to say the Dam to Dam route will be flatter and spend less time going west, which seems to be where Iowa winds come from.
So keep your fingers crossed for pleasant weather, and I'll handle the rest.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
I was nominated for a Liebster Award!
Just as I felt myself fall into a blogging slump, Karla nominated me for a Liebster Award!
It's not an award in the traditional sense — more like a chain survey to help introduce you to other blogs — but I'm happy to accept, especially when inspiration is running dry.
The rules are:
1. Why did you start running?
It's actually a very underwhelming and boring story.
Basically I went on a walk one day and wondered how long/how far I could run. Despite how little I could do and yet how sore I was the next day, I decided to try again, and then to keep going.
2. What’s your favorite distance to race or to run in workouts?
For racing, it's the half marathon. I enjoy the discipline of a training schedule — and I definitely have to train for a half marathon — and the sense of achievement when I actually finish it.
For workouts, I'd probably say four- or five-milers. Long enough to feel like I've done something, but not so long that I have to plan my whole day around it or that I'm wiped out afterwards.
3. What’s your biggest running goal right now?
Right now, it's to go sub-2:00:00 in a half marathon, because I'm running one at the end of May. Breaking my 5K personal record (24:09) is also on my radar, but not until this fall.
4. What’s your power song?
"Livin' On A Prayer." I listen to it before races, and whenever I hit the midway point of a run, I sing "Whoa, we're halfway there!" in my head ... or out loud to my running buddy.
But when I drive to races, I make sure "TiK ToK" plays before I get out of the car.
5. What mantra works for you when you’re pushing hard?
"You got this," if things are going OK; "just another [distance or time]," if it's a real struggle.
6. Who’s your running hero?
I don't really have one, but I will say that the Runner's World feature about the little people who nearly finished the Boston Marathon in 2013 was one of the best articles I've read in a long time. Running as a normal-sized person poses its own challenges, but add in the obstacles posed by dwarfism ...
7. What achievement are you most proud of?
Running-related: my current 5K PR. Never saw that coming, but I executed my race plan perfectly.
Non-running-related: I wrote two books about my family history (one for Mom's side, one for Dad's side). Many of the relatives interviewed have since passed away, so I'm profoundly grateful for what we've managed to preserve.
8. What’s your favorite vacation spot?
I'm going to do all sorts of dances around this question.
For places that I can visit often and that I find relaxing — I love just hopping over to Iowa City. It takes less than two hours to get there, and some very good college friends live there with three adorable pets.
For places that I can't visit often and that I find exhilarating (but definitely not relaxing) — I'm still buzzing from my trip to Italy. The French Alps, where I spent a month in college, were also fantastic.
9. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not running?
Reading. Books, newspapers, magazines, blogs ... especially food blogs. Because I also really love thinking about, discussing, making and eating food.
10. Dogs or cats?
Cats! I like both and grew up with both, but I "get" cats better. (And have an easier time taking care of them.)
Dear nominees: If you've already been nominated before or don't want to accept, that's totally OK. You are:
Pam, at Mada(M)useo
Stephanie, at Adventures in Picky Stomachs
Martha, at Miles and Motherhood
Dimity and Sarah, at another mother runner
Brian, at Pavement Runner
Mike, at Running Is Funny
Doug, at irunnerbuzz
Calee, at life+running
Abbey, at imrunnerchica.com
Katie, at run this amazing day
And my questions are:
It's not an award in the traditional sense — more like a chain survey to help introduce you to other blogs — but I'm happy to accept, especially when inspiration is running dry.
The rules are:
- You must link back to the person who nominated you.
- You must answer the 10 Liebster questions given to you by the nominee before you.
- You must pick 10 bloggers to be nominated for the award.
- You must create 10 questions for your nominees.
- You must go to their blogs and notify the nominees.
1. Why did you start running?
It's actually a very underwhelming and boring story.
Basically I went on a walk one day and wondered how long/how far I could run. Despite how little I could do and yet how sore I was the next day, I decided to try again, and then to keep going.
2. What’s your favorite distance to race or to run in workouts?
For racing, it's the half marathon. I enjoy the discipline of a training schedule — and I definitely have to train for a half marathon — and the sense of achievement when I actually finish it.
For workouts, I'd probably say four- or five-milers. Long enough to feel like I've done something, but not so long that I have to plan my whole day around it or that I'm wiped out afterwards.
3. What’s your biggest running goal right now?
Right now, it's to go sub-2:00:00 in a half marathon, because I'm running one at the end of May. Breaking my 5K personal record (24:09) is also on my radar, but not until this fall.
4. What’s your power song?
"Livin' On A Prayer." I listen to it before races, and whenever I hit the midway point of a run, I sing "Whoa, we're halfway there!" in my head ... or out loud to my running buddy.
But when I drive to races, I make sure "TiK ToK" plays before I get out of the car.
5. What mantra works for you when you’re pushing hard?
"You got this," if things are going OK; "just another [distance or time]," if it's a real struggle.
6. Who’s your running hero?
I don't really have one, but I will say that the Runner's World feature about the little people who nearly finished the Boston Marathon in 2013 was one of the best articles I've read in a long time. Running as a normal-sized person poses its own challenges, but add in the obstacles posed by dwarfism ...
7. What achievement are you most proud of?
Running-related: my current 5K PR. Never saw that coming, but I executed my race plan perfectly.
Non-running-related: I wrote two books about my family history (one for Mom's side, one for Dad's side). Many of the relatives interviewed have since passed away, so I'm profoundly grateful for what we've managed to preserve.
8. What’s your favorite vacation spot?
I'm going to do all sorts of dances around this question.
For places that I can visit often and that I find relaxing — I love just hopping over to Iowa City. It takes less than two hours to get there, and some very good college friends live there with three adorable pets.
For places that I can't visit often and that I find exhilarating (but definitely not relaxing) — I'm still buzzing from my trip to Italy. The French Alps, where I spent a month in college, were also fantastic.
 |
| Florence, as seen from Piazzale Michelangelo. What a stunning city. |
Reading. Books, newspapers, magazines, blogs ... especially food blogs. Because I also really love thinking about, discussing, making and eating food.
10. Dogs or cats?
Cats! I like both and grew up with both, but I "get" cats better. (And have an easier time taking care of them.)
 |
| Oh look, an excuse to post cat pictures! These are my boys: Ringo on the left, Dusty on the right. |
Pam, at Mada(M)useo
Stephanie, at Adventures in Picky Stomachs
Martha, at Miles and Motherhood
Dimity and Sarah, at another mother runner
Brian, at Pavement Runner
Mike, at Running Is Funny
Doug, at irunnerbuzz
Calee, at life+running
Abbey, at imrunnerchica.com
Katie, at run this amazing day
And my questions are:
- What place would you submit to Runner's World's "rave run" feature?
- What race would you tell others to put on their bucket list?
- What's your worst race experience?
- What food is a must-avoid leading up to a run?
- What's the weirdest thing you've seen on a run?
- Do you have any special pre-race rituals?
- What foods/drinks do you crave during or after a run?
- How do you pamper yourself after a tough workout or race?
- Who would play you in a movie?
- What was the first concert you ever attended?
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Race report: Grand Blue Mile
When I take time off from running, especially during the winter, I have concurrent and conflicting emotions about running.
One part of me never wants to lace up the shoes and feel the burn again. The other part of me becomes wildly optimistic, often just at the thought of mild weather and living plants, and wants to sign up for anything and everything.
My Grand Blue Mile registration was born of that latter urge, and I spent the time between getting off of work and toeing the starting line regretting it with every alternate breath.
In between, I reminded myself that as miserable as I was during the Friendly Sons 5K, this had to be better — it was only one-third the distance.
 |
| These faces do not accurately reflect our pre-race sentiments, though we did agree that it was a perfect day to run. |
Cory and his friend Drew weren't particularly sanguine, nor was Stephanie from book club, who ran with me in the competitive women's division. Only veteran athlete Steve, whom we'd only just met a few days ago at the Cumming Tap, seemed to be glad to be here.
My plan was to stay in back to give myself more time to warm up before actually crossing the line; instead, the race organizers corralled the 15 or so of us — seriously! — to the very front, and it was only a few steps before I was sprinting like my life depended on it.
Here's where my biggest victory of the day occurred. In the first quarter-mile, I got passed constantly, despite pushing myself as hard as the speedsters were. The pack in front of me grew so crowded that I started wondering whether I'd be the last to finish.
Suddenly I understood why people worry about that — there were a lot of spectators, and they'd be sticking around to watch the races right after mine. Everyone would see me come in last. Was anyone even behind me? Should I even bother suffering for another three-fourths of a mile?
But no. I didn't pay the registration fee and tell people that I was running it just to give up so early. There was no injury or true pain holding me back. I kept plugging away ... and even started passing a few people, some of whom sounded/looked far more miserable than me.
My second-biggest victory of the day: It was such a short race that I didn't bother wearing contacts or glasses, meaning the finish line was just one giant blue blob. I couldn't even let up at the end if I had wanted to, because I wasn't entirely sure where the end was. (See my game face here.)
But I could read the numbers as I crossed — 6:58.
But I could read the numbers as I crossed — 6:58.
 |
| The mats signal the end. I'm not *quite* there. |
I was shocked to see that number, even more shocked to see the printout with "6:11" and then unsurprised to see this morning that I was knocked down to "7:11.88."
I shrugged it off most of the day, because they're ALL personal records by at least 21 seconds, but I'll admit to much relief when at 5:20 p.m., Cory emailed me to say the database had changed. Official time: 6:57.64, ninth in my division.
For such a short race, I've blathered on a long time, so I'll just end it with this: I'm proud of the results, especially given what little training went into it, and I am even more happy and grateful that I had a cheering section. Thanks, Steph, Regina and Emily, for coming out, watching and photographing!
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I race tonight; here are my goals
One week ago today, I returned to Des Moines from my overseas adventure and realized that, oh crap, I was running a mile race in seven days and a half marathon in seven weeks.
And it was with some trepidation that I set out on my first run since the March 30 5K last Wednesday — how much fitness had I lost, and how much of a waste of registration would today's Grand Blue Mile be?
We can look at the result of that run and the subsequent mile test (7:41) in two ways: Either I didn't lose as much fitness as I thought, hooray!; or I didn't have any real fitness to lose, boo.
I've clocked that pace during successful 5Ks, and I finished a test mile in 7:33 before rolling out to Italy, though, so I think it's fair and accurate to interpret 7:41 as not having lost much fitness.
So tonight, I know I can go sub-8:00; I expect to do around 7:45, give or take a few seconds; and I hope I can do around 7:30.
If I break 7:30 this year without training specifically at all, well, first round of beer at the post-race gathering is on me.
And maybe then this fall at the Brew Mile or next spring at the Grand Blue Mile, after making time for race-specific training, I can shatter the automatic personal record I set tonight.
And it was with some trepidation that I set out on my first run since the March 30 5K last Wednesday — how much fitness had I lost, and how much of a waste of registration would today's Grand Blue Mile be?
We can look at the result of that run and the subsequent mile test (7:41) in two ways: Either I didn't lose as much fitness as I thought, hooray!; or I didn't have any real fitness to lose, boo.
I've clocked that pace during successful 5Ks, and I finished a test mile in 7:33 before rolling out to Italy, though, so I think it's fair and accurate to interpret 7:41 as not having lost much fitness.
So tonight, I know I can go sub-8:00; I expect to do around 7:45, give or take a few seconds; and I hope I can do around 7:30.
If I break 7:30 this year without training specifically at all, well, first round of beer at the post-race gathering is on me.
And maybe then this fall at the Brew Mile or next spring at the Grand Blue Mile, after making time for race-specific training, I can shatter the automatic personal record I set tonight.
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