WINE and CHOCOLATE and RUN. oh my

The Flowers my Run
got me for V'day

Yesterday I spent the morning with my Valentine. As I said before, my Run and I are in a deeply committed relationship. 

Its "The Year of the 5K", and I have made it a priority to get my speed back in 2015.  So in order to do that, I have to make goals.

The Long Term Goal – beat 23:25 22:59

Saturday’s Goals in no particular order:

Win.

Run Sub 8-minute miles.

Try Not To Suck.

Pretty simple, eh?

And beyond these things, anything else was just icing on the cake. And to be clear, there wasn’t cake, but the 5K was at New Kent Winery, so it didn’t matter.  There was WINE and CHOCOLATE and RUN.

Almost all of my favorite things together in one place.  ~pinch me~ 

So let me just start by saying what had’a happen’d wuz the weather was bitterly cold. But I thought it was just on the edge of my “skirt” vs “tights” line.  So I decided to wear a skirt for racing and change after. 

Maybe shoulda rethought that one, but s’ok. I survived. And the feeling slowly returned to my legs after a hot shower that drained the hot water heater...

Dash, Dot and I arrived to the race nice and early, parked, and headed up to the porta potty line, all the way commenting on how beautiful it is out there at New Kent Winery.

100% beautiful. And 100% cold. Freakishly cold. Way colder than I like. Way way colder than my lungs tolerate.  Back to that in a minute...

We checked our bags, ran about a mile warm up with a few strides thrown in, and since the race was scheduled to start at 9, I lined up on the start line at about 8:55.

An echo floated on the wind, "If you toe the line, you have to race."

 ~ Coach HP ~

And there I waited in the freezing cold. Standing still. Did I mention the cold? No? Ok. It was chilly.

That wasn’t a big deal though.  'Cos it was only for 5 minutes. Except that 15 minutes later I realized it was going to be a problem. 'Cos we were still waiting and my body was locking up. My lips could barely move. I was bouncing in place trying to keep warm but nothing was working.

My lungs questioned our sanity. I told them to STFU, my Run and I were on a date, Lungs would have to sit tight.

The race started at closer to 9:15, so I’d been standing still for 20 minutes in freezing temps with a wind chill of well below freezing. Wearing a skirt, ‘cos I’m legitimately stupid a Galactic Badass.

It was only a 5K though, and I knew it would be over soon.  

As usual, I didn’t wear a watch. Why bother? My race day strategy for the 5K distance is “Run on the edge of death, and when you want to die, push yourself just a little harder”.

I don’t know what my pace was at any given point, but at mile 1ish (the course was unmarked) I was running side by side with the 2^nd place female. At the turn into the golf course I dropped her and set my sights on the 1^st place female and she dropped me like one of Those People I Don’t Know on a Tuesday Morning.

I couldn’t catch her, so I entertained myself by chasing down the next available Male I spotted. I repeated my mantra in my head, "How bad do you want it?" as my body started to fatigue.

I finished on the uphill without looking too deeply at the clock.  I walked a few hundred yards past the smattering of volunteers with shaking legs while fighting to draw air in through my quickly narrowing wind pipe.

After I grabbed my checked bag and threw on all the clothing I’d brought, I headed back to the finish line just in time to see Dot then Dash cross the line. I grinned at Dash, “I hope you don’t mind if we hang out for a while... cos I’d like to stay for the awards ceremony...”.  I sounded like Hell; OH yeah, and at the wine tasting after the race, we ran into my Jr High boyfriend.  As in, the boy I "went out with" in 1990ish.

True. Freaking. Story.  

What are the odds? Well, apparently, when I'm involved, the odds are good that the world will continue grow smaller and smaller.

Back to the running. My personal best is still a minute out of range, but I’m making progress.

24:31 earned me Female Open Second Place.

7:53 avg. pace

I did not suck.

I failed at my goal of winning.

This is what failure looks like, if you want to know.

Failure looks like taking :45 seconds off my 5K time in two months.

Failure

Failure looks like an open bottle of wine at 10 a.m., a few beautiful roses, and many smiles. Failure can further be defined by the copious amounts of laughter and badassery that was exchanged across the span of a white tablecloth.  And by the frozen “My Banana is Hard” jokes. And by the hours that passed in the company of new friends as we grew increasingly breathless with laughter from the hilarity that ensued.

No one could have predicted that a 5K in New Kent would result in Jesus on a Log stories, the discovery of a really charming vineyard, and a deeper appreciation of why it’s important for women to surround themselves with a good support system.

our new friends - seriously, these
women define Galactic BadA**ery
without even trying.

I ended my day by having two pretty severe asthma flare-ups. I leaned on my support system for one, and relied on my own knowledge for the other. It will likely change my run strategy this week, but I’m hopeful that this was an acute event, not the beginning of anything else. 

This will be a “recovery”/”baby myself” week, but I'll be out there chasing the Back To Last crew as soon as my lungs allow.

Finally -

To the Race Director of the Vinterra Race for the Chocolate there's only a few things I would change about your race. The Race Tent needed heaters inside or a Fire Pit outside. There was no place to wait before the race that was warm.  The race should have started on time, or the runners should have been advised that it was 15 minutes behind schedule.  The course was great, exactly as advertised. I will definitely run this one next year.

The Year of The 5K : The Updated Stat Sheet.

Shamrock Beer Tent Report

When my running wife, TMB, writes a blog about a race, she writes about The good. The bad. The Ugly.

 

So ~ yeah.

If we’re writing about Shamrock Half Marathon it self, it would break down exactly that way.  If we’re writing about the weekend, I would say it was

99% PERFECT

1% UGLY AS (insert ugly word here).

Ultimately, the Half Marathon EVENT became less about the RUNNING and more about The Social Aspect of The Event.

The Good Dr and I went to Va Beach for the Half Marathon Weekend.  We had dinner at our favorite place, met my family for some family time, had dinner with IronJ and her family, met new runners, and found some delicious food and beer.  We went to the expo, walked on the beach, sat in the hot tub, and did all the things one would do on a 75 degree day in March at Va Beach.

The race plan was to run a sub 2 with IronJ, but on the morning of the race, as we started out, I had a feeling that IronJ was feeling EPIC where I was just feeling ... well, I was not feeling epic.

By mile 5 IronJ was pulling us and we crossed the 5 mile marker around 45 minutes.  Right on Schedule.  But again, I wasn’t feeling EPIC.

And at Mile 7 I sent IronJ on (to a 1:57) without me and settled in to try to hang on to my sub 2.  At about mile 7.001 I realized that my insides were actually kind of angry.  Very. 

So I hit a porta potty.

And then a mile later, I stopped to wait in a different porta potty line.  

Yeah.  It was going to be like that.

It was a long line.  I drank a cup of water.  Ate part of a Gu.  Drank a touch more water.  Doubled over once or twice in pain.  I knew that I was going to be less hydrated after coming out of the potty... and I was right, and I figured – when life hands you porta potties, you don’t make lemonade but you may as well drink something before walking in the door...

I finished the race in 2:07:59, which I kinda loved. A few years ago I ran a 2:07 at Shamrock.  I know exactly where I am now.  And isn't that nice?

And then I went back to my hotel room via a few potty stops, which I kinda hated.

Interestingly enough, the potty stops resolved within 20-30 minutes, and I was able to shower, get dry warm clothes on, and find a beer or two in the tent.  It gave me a chance to hang out with some old friends, make new friends, and generally, make it into a great day.

The Beer Tent went GREAT.  Good Food.  Good Temp.  As far as the "report" goes, the Beer Tent was PERFECTLY EXECUTED.  If I had to do it again I'd do the Beer Tent exactly as I did it.

"You know it's a good day when BEER."

I love that race.  I highly recommend wrangling your running group and doing the race next year.  It’s not always about the PR, sometimes it’s about the BEER TENT and the people with you.

Doing It Right in Chicago! (TWSS)

Highest of Highs to the Lowest of Lows

Bobbi & I, Friday night, in CHICAGO!

I could be talking about:

Baseball Playoffs

Nursing School

Chicago Marathon

Any Marathon, for that matter

My weekend away in Chicago that involved a police officer & background check?

Chicago Chicago Chicago.  

The energy pulsed through me from the moment our plane took off from good old RVA.

It was a weekend that was all about counting down to the Moment when The Good Dr went out and proved to himself what I already knew:  One can execute a race to perfection if one FOLLOWS THE PLAN.

The Good Dr's plan, every single training run, was to start slow, and ease into a solid pace, and bring it/hold it for the last miles of the run.

I know following a plan to perfection can be done (Rehoboth Marathon, Frostbite 15K). To do it, a runner just needs to combine mental strength and stamina – both things he has, cos’, ya know, he’s a marathoner and all.... uh...

I digress.

The Good Dr and I met up with Zeroto26point2 Bobbi and her Husband on Friday night for dinner when they were kind enough to pick us up from the Airport. Best.Dinner.Company.Ever.

Ever had that moment when you just fall into a connection, and the conversation flows, and the beer flows, and the dinner is delicious, and the city is beautiful and raw and amazing all at once? Chicago Chicago Chicago...

The next day we were

Tourists played by the part of a Nursing Student and a Pre-race Day Marathoner.

Thus, we did some exploring, we took cabs, expo, rode the freaking best Ferris Wheel EVER, we found delicious food, and we visited with our friends who had travelled with us from RVA to run the marathon also.

We also had to hang out for a few hours back at the hotel while I dug deep into my studies, as I had a Mid-Term Exam worth 30% of my grade in one of my classes on Monday at 5pm.

Of course, a smart person would have maybe skipped the trip all together... but if that’s the criteria for smart, well then, I’m not smart.

I wouldn’t miss The Good Dr’s Chicago experience for ANYTHING.

SO I decided I just HAD to study on the trip and get a good grade despite my travels.

Moving on to Sunday morning.

Bobbi showed up, a little unexpectedly, to spectate the race with me. It was Epic. Wonderful. Amazing. Super Fun.

We were freaking BRILLIANT.

We decided the caption of the day was, “Doing it Right”, as we navigated the course, the train system, held a sign until our arms were shaking, and screamed and screamed and screamed our support for every single runner we saw running Chicago Marathon.  Chicago Chicago Chicago...

I heard a lot of runners say, “Best sign EVER!” as they ran by, and I pretty much agreed... which is why I chose to grace the side of Chicago with some words to live by, per Q.

Maybe some of you all saw the article in the Chicago newspapers and carried by the big networks that The Chicago Marathon was threatening to arrest Bandit Runners as a security risk... that kinda put a crimp in jumping in and running with any of the 8 or so people I knew running the race on Sunday.

Doing it RIGHT on the Train
(TWSS)

But Crimps don’t usually stop me, and I won’t say I did jump in and run, but I won’t say I didn’t. 

Let’s just say it was a great day.

The Good Dr’s race went down to perfection, negative splits on an amazingly congested course brought him in with :50somewthing seconds to spare on his goal and earned him a nice PR.

We celebrated with beer, and hugs, and beer, and a power bar, and beer, and burgers, and ... yeah, I realized at some point during the day that I drank a lot more beer than water this weekend...

The Good Dr, with me and a beer, after running
Negative Splits(!!!) at Chicago Marathon.
HE ROCKS!

Anyway, after we’d sobered up, we checked out of our hotel to make our way back to RVA via O’Hare. We had a nice direct flight, we’d be in at a decent hour, there would be ample time to study before bed, and in the morning I could even sleep in a little and study some more.

Oh well... you know what they say about the best-laid plans?

We rode the train from the city out to the airport, and it was crowded.  We disembarked and my phone suddenly started going a bit crazy with Text Messages and incoming calls from unfamiliar numbers.

And this is where we hit a stumbling block that brought me down to the lowest point I’ve ever been at while in an airport.

It was my bank, notifying me of suspicious activity on my Debit Card, and I opened my purse, which was oddly not snapped any more... to discover that my wallet was gone.

My ID was in that wallet.

Anyone here have any idea how to get through airport security without a wallet?

Yeah, well... I didn’t either, but fortunately for me there’s a process to make it happen, but it takes a freakishly long time and involves cops and high level TSA folks, a complete body scan, a luggage search to the nth degree, and... yeah, I think that covers it.

The Body Scan was the standard scan... you know, the one they assure you that isn’t invasive at all?

Well do you know what I figured out? It is looking for objects in your pockets, but it is also detecting heat in your body.  After my cough run cough, my right medial ankle was a bit sore.

And it lit up on the scanner as a point of interest.

As did my Va-Jay-Jay.

Um. 

WTF? 

Yeah, well, apparently I have a hot desire to change the subject here before I offend half of my readership.

The Good Dr was amazing, and as cool as I was ~ahem~ hot, and handled everything as it came to us... we missed our flight, flew standby on the next flight – which was delayed, and were home at a ridiculously LATE, er early hour on Monday morning

But it all worked out.

It was an adventure that is worth reliving in it’s best and worst moments, because even at my lowest point, I found myself laughing with the TSA guys, teasing the Body Scanning/Pat down folks about my ~ahem~ hotness, and spending time with one of my truly favorite people to spend time with...

And honestly, could life be any better if you’re laughing?

I think not.

Congrats to The Good Dr, and all the other’s who dominated Chicago Marathon one way or another.

(Oh by the way, I did a little better than OK on the Mid Term. i.e. I’m pleased)

Flying Pirates & missed opportunities

"it's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack
of  cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses ..."

Obviously anyone who follows my blog knows I've been unable to run enough this spring to get trained for a Half Marathon. The Half Marathon
was exactly 5 weeks and 2 days after my pneumonia diagnosis.... so... yeah, about that. I am out and about, and getting my fitness back one step at a time, but running 13.1 miles would have been a death wish.

All that drama didn't stop me from spending the weekend with a posse of giggling women who seem to appreciate mocking themselves as much as I enjoy mocking myself.

We went down to the race venue, picked up bibs at the surprisingly good expo, and admired the GIANT costume contest trophy.

I made eye contact with T right then, and I'm pretty sure we were thinking the same thing... well... I was thinking, "I wonder what it takes to win this hideous trophy..."

We drove the rest of the way down to the cottage and did some touristy things ... ok, ok, we did all 4 touristy things you can do at the beach this time of year.

1) We visited the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.

2) Drive past a known Osprey nest to see if the birds are home (they weren't, sorry T, Kim & Erika)

3) Got our feet into sand and take a photo on the beach that should be an album cover for our next CD, which will be named "Hill Repeats" and the first single will be "Flat Sand Running", which will be UBER appropriate because I'm probably going to be off key. "We'll put the band back together, do a few gigs, we get some bread. Bang! Five thousand bucks." Blues Brothers

4) Admire the inappropriately young HOT surfers <~ seriously, this is actually an acceptable tourist activity.  holy carp....

Still, I think this is a post of Important Safety Tips:

Important Safety Tip: Check the race location in relation to the cottage you own before offering to host everyone for the weekend.  not that it was a major problem, but I thought the race was on the Manteo side of OBX, not on the Kitty Hawk side of OBX... right.... so after an hour and a twenty minute drive to the start I parked the car.

Important Safety Tip: When snuggling your friend in the porta potty line, make sure the guy behind you  understands you're joking when you tell her, "I don't know you but here let me hug on you". .. unless of course you want a hug from a RedShirt named Daniel. In which case, go ahead... #seriously #HuggedARedShirt

Important Safety Tip: Take a photographer with you on the cool parts of your MTB adventure... otherwise all the photographs will be of you MTB on PAVEMENT. I assure you, I had a wicked good time exploring the trails on the way to find the girls out on the course, and I am TOTALLY looking forward to MTB in OBX ASAP...

Important Safety Tip: Be a bad ass.... oh, wait. seriously though, I had a great weekend and pulled some ridiculousness, like cycling while spectating, taking photographs while cycling, and convincing another runner to take our photo while he was running...

And finally:

Important Safety Tip: If you're planning on running with us next year at this race, be prepared to share that hideous trophy for 1/5 of the year, because we are so going to win it.

Uh yeah. Cos that's how we roll.

I'd guess it's about 18" X 24"... maybe 30"