Bear Water Run 2014

Last weekend was Bear Water Run!

I've run this 10- and 20-mile race three times before, once with Molly and always the 20-mile distance. (Here's my 2012 recap.) I always loved to run it as part of my training for a fall marathon because it's so nice to have a 20-mile route planned out for you, in a different place, with most of the participants treating the race like a long run in their own marathon training, too. Because of its mid-September timing, Bear Water Run often coincides with the season's first wave of cool weather, which is another treat after long runs through the summer.

I haven't been logging those long, long runs this summer, though, and I didn't think this race was in the cards for me this year. But then Molly asked if I wanted to run the 10-mile option, and I did, and it turned out that officially registering for the race a few weeks back was a good kickstart toward more consistent running. I moved my long run distance up for a couple of weeks in a row until I got to eight miles the week before the race, which was close enough to 10 miles for me.

On Saturday morning, the temperature was around 40 degrees when we arrived in White Bear Lake, about half an hour outside the Twin Cities. It had clearly been colder overnight: the first frost I've seen this season!

I choose a long-sleeve quarter-zip shirt over a t-shirt with 3/4 running tights, the warmest running outfit I've worn in months. Molly—who was doing the 20-mile option and would be out on the course later into the morning—went for a short-sleeve shirt, vest, 3/4 tights and gloves. For people running a fall marathon, this race is also a really good opportunity to practice what clothes, shoes, and food and drink work best for a long run.

Bear Water Run is low-key in a great way. Here's the finish area:

We got started at 8 a.m., and the first several miles flew by. The course meandered along White Bear Lake, through residential neighborhoods, and over rolling hills. It was wonderful to run in a different-for-us place with my dear running buddy, and we were chatting the whole way. About seven or eight miles in, I started to feel the effort more, and I told Molly that I might want to walk or stretch. She asked which one, and I hemmed and hawed and said, "I don't know. Let's keep going." She suggested that we slow down a little, I agreed, and that seemed to be just the ticket. We ran the rest of the way.

I know the last mile of this course well from previous years' races, and as I got closer to the finish, I felt that little burst of pride that finds me as I'm approaching a finish line. (I think I told Molly how happy I was about six times in the last mile.) After lighter training this summer, I was pleased and grateful to work my way back up to the 10-mile distance and finish it feeling good. Molly headed out for her second loop, and I crossed the finish line and grinned.

I changed into warmer clothes and ate and drank (this is the event with pickles among the post-race refreshments!), and then I just relaxed at the park near the finish line while Molly worked her way through the second loop.

When I turned toward the lake from my spot at a picnic table, this was my view:

A finish line is a great place, and I loved sitting there on a gorgeous morning, watching families cheering for their runners—and then cheering for Molly as she finished 20 miles!

It's no secret: I love Bear Water Run. We had a great time.

Lifetime Torchlight 5K race report

This week I ran the Life Time Torchlight 5K race in Minneapolis - for the first time in 12 years!

During the summer after I graduated from high school, I was building up to my first half-marathon and logging more mileage than previous summers. I remember doing a handful of races around town, including the Life Time Torchlight 5K. I have happy memories from this race but didn't make a point to register again over the years, mostly because the weeknight July evening is usually hot and the race-day logistics on the point-to-point course in downtown Minneapolis are trickier than the Saturday morning races I like. Then my friend Kate invited me to run this year's race with her, with her employer offering discounted registration for staff and their friends and family. I don't have much structure in my running this summer but still wanted to run a few fun races, and all of a sudden, this 5K sounded great!

Now that I've run it again—especially because I attended the event with a friend instead of solo—I see that the reasons I've ducked this race are actually what make it such a fun event (well, except for the summer evening temperatures). With races so rarely held on weeknights, running a 5K on a Wednesday night instead of the usual weekend morning felt novel. The point-to-point course was neat, especially because the finish line was across the (oft-mentioned lately on this blog) Stone Arch Bridge. And the logistics did require more planning, but it was easier and more fun to coordinate with a friend (and especially nice that her employer distributed bibs and t-shirts well in advance!).

I drove over to Minneapolis and parked near the finish line at about 6 p.m., then met Kate a few blocks away from the starting line. Because of how the course was mapped, I couldn't cut too much off the 5K distance and ended up running a little over two miles, meandering over to downtown Minneapolis for an early warmup.

Kate and I walked over to the starting area and hung out until race organizers started sending everyone into the start corrals. The start was at the Basilica of St. Mary, and there were a lot of people milling around.

When we lined up in the start corrals, we learned via the loudspeakers that 6,000 runners were registered for this race. That's why it felt so crowded!

The race began one wave at a time, the starts staggered to avoid the new Green Line trains crossing the course.

I loved the first few blocks. The first part of the course went straight down Hennepin Avenue, matching the route for the Aquatennial festival's parade that started just after the 5K. Crowds were lining Hennepin even when we arrived in the early evening, which also meant great spectator support. The early blocks must have been a gradual downhill, the runners spread out across all four lanes of Hennepin, the pavement was so smooth, and it felt like my feet were barely touching the ground. 

It was so easy to start out too fast. I tried to hold back the way I had at the Pork Chop Trot a few weeks earlier, keeping my pace at what felt like a hard but sustainable effort, and I was happy with that plan. The temperatures were in the low 80s and the sunshine was really warm, but the humidity was amazingly low for July in Minnesota. I wasn't aiming for a PR, but my hope was to run faster than I had at Pork Chop Trot. Like that race, I had intentionally left my watch at home so I could run by effort.

We ran down Hennepin, then turned on 3rd Street to start heading toward the Stone Arch Bridge. I really liked the whole course: there were a couple of short segments, then a loop around Gold Medal Park by the Guthrie Theatre before heading down the West River Parkway hill and turning onto the Stone Arch Bridge for the finish. My personal strategy to break up a 5K race is to get a few minutes past the first mile marker and note that I'm about halfway done, get to the second mile marker and know there's less than 10 minutes left, and then try to hang on with a steady pace to the finish. This race fit very nicely into that approach: there was nearly a full mile on Hennepin, then I just had to work my way toward the West River Parkway downhill and the Stone Arch Bridge's long finishing stretch. My mistake in previewing the course map was not noting whether the finish was right at the end of the bridge or slightly beyond, but I figured out early enough on the bridge that there was still a little stretch past the bridge (not very far, though).

(I did not take this picture during the race but instead doubled back afterward to catch another wave approaching the finish line.)

What happened next was a funny little challenge that I don't remember happening to me at a race before and now wish would happen more often. I glimpsed a couple of different times on the finish line clock because of the wave starts, and with no watch on my wrist, I didn't have any idea of my finish time for two hours afterward. (The actual and accurate results, adjusted for each runner's chip, were already online when I got home.) So I had to make an early conclusion about how the race went for me without the one piece of data that, for better or worse, so often guides our entire reaction to our race efforts. My approach to racing has varied tremendously—I've raced many times entirely by feel and many times aiming for a precise time goal—but this experience was a new one and a healthy one. I decided I was happy with my pacing and happy with my effort on a warm evening run, and I felt really good about how it went.

Later that night, I saw the results and learned that my Torchlight 5K time was five seconds slower than my Pork Chop Trot time. My snap reaction went along the lines of "Argh!" - until I remembered how positively I felt about my race effort before I knew my finish time. That time is a key piece of feedback, but it need not dictate entirely how I feel about my 5K that night. A few days later, I'm more tickled that I ran two 5Ks this month, on very different courses, at different times of day and in different weather conditions, within five seconds of each other. How does that happen!?

At the finish line, I was excited to see some of my favorite post-race treats: pretzels, Salted Nut Rolls, and popsicles! But that wasn't even the end of the refreshments. I found Kate, and we got to visit the Allina tent for refreshing pasta salad, wraps, cheese and fruit—another much-appreciated perk connected to our registration.

I give the Life Time Torchlight 5K high marks. The course and crowds were fun, the t-shirt is really lovely, and it was a fun evening with Kate. My 5K races this month are a benchmark for what I hope is more structured 5K training in August and September. And I won't wait 12 years before running this race again!

All-Star Game and other notes

I love this. After yesterday's post about plant nostalgia, my mom went into the photo albums and found this one of the three of us standing next to the vegetable garden:

Today's nostalgia is linked to the All-Star Game festivities in Minneapolis today and tomorrow. I loved the All-Star Game (along with every other baseball game) growing up, and if I could tell my childhood self that one day she'd get the chance to attend the All-Star Game in Minnesota with her dad and brother and husband, she would've been bouncing off the walls. I will have those experiences - listening to games on WCCO radio until I fell asleep, talking through the American League standings with my dad and grandpa - in my heart this week when I'm walking around the beautiful stadium and cheering for Justin Morneau in the Home Run Derby and watching this era's All-Stars on the field. I am so excited.

Five more notes to begin the week:

1) There is some incredibly unseasonable weather swooping into Minnesota today, during what is typically the warmest week of the year here. I read this morning that today's record low maximum temperature is 68, set back in 1884 - and today's predicted high is just 63!

Earlier this spring, I got what appeared to be red paint smudges across the back of my bought-in-September white fleece jacket. After sending it through the washer and dryer, not only was the stain still there, but I had unknowingly and dramatically reduced the chances of being able to remove it. I did not have high hopes, but with nothing to lose (and a warm jacket to gain if anything worked), I tried a couple of remedies this weekend. I think credit officially goes to a couple of OxiClean spot treatments and soaks (followed by a cycle in the washer) that lifted probably 95 percent of the stain out of the white fleece. I was very surprised and very relieved, and now I will be able to wear my cozy jacket to tonight's Home Run Derby. (And warmer temperatures and sunny skies are predicted for tomorrow's All-Star Game!)

2) I saw this flower patch on a walk this weekend and it made me laugh because it reminded me of a class picture from elementary school, the ones you'd take on the risers.



3) I harvested the first vegetables from the garden yesterday - just a handful of purple beans, but a harvest all the same.

4) Over the weekend, my brother and I drove up to my grandma's town to participate in the Pork Chop Trot for the third year in a row. (It's a tradition now!) Without any speedwork or training plans lately, I didn't have any time-related goals for this 5K race, but I was pretty happy with my effort and pacing (with the exception of a finishing kick that started a little too early due to me forgetting one curve on the course). As I've written in past recaps, this race is one of my favorites on the running calendar because of its proximity to my grandma's house (we visit after the race) and the total change in scenery. I toted my camera along in hopes of getting a photo of my favorite part of the course - a one-lane dirt path cut through cornfields - but was working pretty hard by that point and decided not to pause for a picture.

But my brother and I did pause for a picture after we'd finished the race! (I switch to flip flops within minutes of crossing a finish line.)

5) Thanks to my mom, I introduced some climbing beans into my garden plot this year, and I'm so glad.



I hope your week starts out well!

Trail Mix 25K report

Last week, I opened the pre-race email from the Trail Mix 25K organizers. An excerpt: "The course at Lake Rebecca Park Reserve presents classic spring conditions, which makes running both fun and messy."

That sentence perfectly captured the spirit of the morning.

Molly and I ran this race two years ago when the course was at Hyland Lake Park Reserve, and we decided to sign up for this year's event not because we were overly prepared to run 25 kilometers (15.5 miles) but because we wanted to try out the trails at Lake Rebecca, this year's site. Because of our schedules, we did our last few long runs separately but both worked up to 12 miles or so. (And along the way, Molly also recruited another running buddy, who had also worked up to 12 miles, so we were a well-matched trio.)

With a plan to complete the 25K distance at an easy, relaxed pace, the three of us drove over Lake Rebecca (about 40 minutes west of Minneapolis) in a steady rain. The forecast called for some rain in the race's first hour, and with a gusty wind at the start, I decided to keep a light jacket on, at least for the first lap. I was never actually cold but ended up wearing it the whole time and was grateful for it when we ran through more open stretches. The rain stopped just before the 25K started.

We figured out quickly that course was not too technical. It was primarily on soft, wide horse trails that looked like this:



We were able to run side by side by side most of the race, which was great for our conversations. Also great for our conversations: the race field spread out quickly, so for most of our time out there, it felt like we were running trails by ourselves.

Some sections were wide open:



In other parts, the course was winding through big woods.



In one wooded section, we watched a deer bounding along the course, and we were amazed by its speed.

In lower areas and more shaded sections, it was muddy. Forgive this blurry image, but I had to get one photo of one of the muddiest stretches, and stopping for a better-composed photo was not an option in this section of the course.

Our race (there was also a 50K) was two 12.5K loops, with three aid stations per loop, so that structure alone broke the distance up nicely. (I took a liking to the flat Coca-Cola at the aid stations. I also ate some trail mix later in the race because I love that the Trail Mix race provides trail mix among its snack options.) With the three of us chatting, the miles really flew by. Truly, we had finished 11 or 12 miles before I even started to wonder how much was left. The other neat part about the later miles was that after mile 13 or so, it was the longest distance our friend had ever run, so we were celebrating her accomplishment.

With a mile to go, all of a sudden, I was tuckered out and ready to be done with the run. The sun popped out as we approached the finish line, and I felt that quiet little jolt of pride that sneaks up on me at the end of long races. And then we were done!



We picked up our finisher shirts and selected some snacks (salty potato chips and chocolate milk sounded good to me). Then we sat down for a few stretches and to take stock of the mud we had accumulated. (Thanks to Molly for taking this picture.)



We also appreciated that, before the race, all three of us had an inkling to replace our running shoes sometime soon.

I really appreciated this event. It was low-key but very well-organized, the volunteers and park staff were helpful and kind, and while it was not particularly spectator friendly (especially on a cool, gray day), exploring the Lake Rebecca trail system was a big draw for us. My friends and I had a great run, "classic spring conditions" and all, and I would do this race again in a second.

Pork Chop Trot: 2013

It's a tradition now!

If this Pork Chop Trot business sounds familiar to you, it's probably because I wrote about it last year when I ran this 5K. My brother and I had such a good time running last year - followed by a visit and meal at Grandma's house - that we vowed to come back this year if possible. So here we are!

I woke up this morning to hear serious but not severe thunderstorms rumbling outside, which is not the best way to rally a runner to get pumped up for a race. I had coffee with my usual summer pre-race breakfast (English muffin with peanut butter - winter is oatmeal with PB) and took a grouchy dog for a walk in the lingering rain. Then my brother and I hit the road, for our first 5K of the summer.

We arrived in time for a short warm-up jog, and then the race began. The rain wrapped up during our drive, leaving behind a cloudy day with a strong wind - better conditions, I thought, than last year's full sun and mid-70s. The first mile was mostly downhill but nearly fully into the wind, and it got to me when I was away from other runners.

Then the course veers left, onto a single-lane dirt road that cuts through a cornfield. Last year, the corn was over my head, and it was such an amazing little moment that I thought of bringing my camera this year solely to photograph this road. I chose not to, and that worked out, because this year's delayed summer meant that the corn was just above my knees and it did not quite convey the same wonder I felt last year running through the field. Also, this year the dirt was soft from the overnight rain, so all of my focus was directed toward my footing.

And then the course goes back onto pavement for the third mile, and my legs were feeling the first two miles. The first few women were evenly spaced out roughly every 10 seconds ahead of me: close enough to see but not quite catch up to. I finished about 50 seconds slower than my best 5K time, and I felt good about it.

Every runner has different food and drink cravings after he or she finishes a race. As I've written before, from Chicago Marathon 2011 onward, I've gotten hankerings for soda. It sounds kind of odd, but I think the caffeine and fizz (and sometimes sugar) are pleasing to my system after a hard run. I told my brother on the drive up that I wanted to grab a fountain drink on the way home, but with a gap between our race and the awards ceremony, I made a beeline from the finish line to the town bar across the street for a soda.

I can't say my immediate post-race routine has ever included a bar. But with a cold Diet Coke in my hand moments after finishing the race, I was a happy camper. Brother and I posed for a photo:

Later in the morning, we learned that we had both placed in our age groups. When I was looking at the results board, I realized that it was my last year in the familiar old 20-29 age group! 30, here I come!

We headed over to Grandma's for lunch (the second of three times that I'll see her this month!) and then hopped back on the road toward home. It was a fun morning with my brother, and a great return trip to Pork Chop Trot, one of the races I'm going to look forward to every summer.

Turkey Day Trail Trot

Earlier in the month, blogger Lora wrote about the Virtual Run for Hurricane Sandy Recovery she and a friend were organizing. Basically, you'd sign up, pledge a donation that goes straight to the Red Cross, and find a race in November (or just do a run on your own). I think it's the first time Lora and her friend have done a fundraising project of this nature, and they've raised nearly $1,500! Pretty wonderful.

I thought it was a fun idea and signed up, so I was on the prowl for a local turkey trot. My search, though, was pretty restricted: it had to be close enough to St. Paul, and early enough in the day, to allow me to get back home, pick up pup, and scoot over to my parents' house in time for brunch and the rest of the day's festivities. (My priorities lie with brunch!)

Then I found the Turkey Day Trail Trot: a 5K and 10K at nearby Battle Creek, a popular park in the winter with cross-country skiers. I emailed my brother and asked if he wanted to run it with me, and he was up for it! It would be a total fun run for both of us, as neither one had been racking up the miles this fall.

On race day/Thanksgiving, I woke up really early to take Josh to the airport and took Wish for a sunrise walk. That's always a good way to start the day - the sunrise walk, that is.

Then Brother and I went over to the race. The field was capped at 400, which is a pretty nice size that allows for nice race energy but not too many logistics headaches. There was a big parking lot right by the start line, and we checked in easily and did a warm-up shuffle (and I saw my friend Holly from running club!). The sun was rising over these fields of tall grass by the start line, and it was gorgeous. I was excited to try the Battle Creek trails.

Oh, yes. Shorts! The day ended with blowing snow and temperatures in the 30s, but temps that morning were in the 50s. I almost wore a tank top!

The race began. Reader, do you know those runners who take long breaks from running for whatever reason and then crank out amazing results at a race, like, "I took five weeks off and ran a three-minute PR!"? I am totes not one of those runners. I was happy to be out on the trails, but man, I felt sluggish. I wanted to try to run this one as my first harder workout post-marathon. That turned out to be no problem at all, because the trails were ski trails: that means hilly!

There are several trail networks inside the city limits of Minneapolis and St. Paul where it's hard to believe that you're technically in a city, and now I know that Battle Creek is one of them. There were a few spots on the course where you could see railroad tracks just outside the park, but most of the course felt like it was in the middle of nowhere - not five minutes away from the state capitol and downtown St. Paul.

I crossed the finish line totally spent, in 28 minutes and change, and 45th of about 200 runners. There was trail mix at the finish line, which I will always get a kick out of seeing at trail races. All in all, I give this race a thumbs up. (My brother is probably laughing at that endorsement, given how tuckered out I was at the finish line.) It was a good way to explore new trails without heading out there solo, and a fun start to Thanksgiving before the drive and all the food that would follow - and my caramel roll (or two) later in the morning did seem extra-tasty.

2012 Gray Ghost 5K report

Here's a combined race report and costume report!

I had the best time last year at the Gray Ghost 5K, a race run in conjunction with the Halloween parade the fourth Saturday of every October in Anoka, the Halloween Capital of the World. It's funny to remember that last year my brother was the one who actually suggested it and convinced me to join him. And by that, I mean the exchange went like this (per last year's recap):

Brother: Hey, want to run the Gray Ghost 5K next weekend?

Me: No, I'm still too slow from the marathon.

(Pause)

Me: Okay, that sounds fun after all.

Jessie

I had not historically been into crafting Halloween costumes. In fact, my MO was usually to drop by a Halloween store hours before a Halloween party to scrounge up something to wear. But because I had just finished the Chicago Marathon a couple of weeks before and would be running completely for fun, not aiming for a time goal, I decided to see if I could be a little more creative and drum up a costume. I ended up fashioning together a Jessie-from-Toy Story get-up with some fabric scraps and a hot glue gun. I had such a fun time waving to the kids along the race course (part of which doubles as the parade route) who were yelling Jessie's name that I vowed to run this race in costume again.

This year, I also had an idea that it would be really fun to run the race with family and friends in a group costume, and I had family members who were on board. The first plan was to do Wizard of Oz, but then my sister and her boyfriend found out they had another commitment on race day, so the group became Josh, my brother and me. We brainstormed trio costumes that wouldn't be too uncomfortable for running. We considered Star Wars and Mario, Luigi and Peach before settling on our final choice: superheroes!

The bottom line was that I did not want anyone in our group spending loads of money on a costume. Part of what was such fun about last year's Jessie costume was thinking about how to cobble together the costume  without buying lots of stuff I'd never use again, so I wanted to try to do the superhero theme that way, too. I headed to the fabric store and left with about $10 worth of felt and cotton fabric. My brother and Josh ended up buying basic shirts and/or shorts they'll wear again, I bought a green t-shirt, and Josh bought a Batman mask and a black sheet (more on that later). I think that's it.

I started piecing together the costumes, beginning with my Robin tunic. I made the little R out of black and yellow felt, and made a super basic and rough little tunic out of the red cotton fabric.

My brother needed Superman's S on his blue shirt, so I used a stencil I found online and hot-glued the S with the leftover red fabric and yellow felt:

And in addition to a few other accessories like belts, of course, we all needed capes. I finished a yellow cape for me and a red cape for my brother. Josh's Batman mask had come with a flimsy black cape (child-sized to boot), and one of my favorite moments of the whole costume assembly project happened on Friday night, when we were picking up my green t-shirt and in the aisle of the store, he asked very sweetly (and a little sheepishly) if it could be possible to make him a better cape. Voila! We snagged a basic flat black flat sheet, and it was done.

My favorite accessories, for whatever reason, were the little wrist cuffs that Batman and Robin wear. It turns out that they are called gauntlets and are a popular accessory for protecting one's forearms whenever one has to go into battle against villains. (Who knew?) My gauntlets were bright green. Josh's were black, and to preserve the accuracy of Batman's gauntlets, I cut out little pieces of felt to give them the extra edge.

Along the way, we picked up a fourth superhero: my friend Kate! She had been thinking about going as the Green Lantern even before we talked about the race and our superhero theme, so it was pretty much meant to be. Our group represented four members of the Justice League of superheroes.

On Saturday morning, we all met up before heading up to Anoka together for the race. Before we left, I thought it was very important to get a photo of my two favorite interpretations of Superman ever.

I was ready, too! This is my "look something like a superhero" pose, I guess.

And here is our fab group:

We got to the elementary school that hosts race registration, got our packets and relaxed in the hallway to stay warm before the race started. The weather ended up being a little chilly for standing around but perfect for running - and even a little toasty if one was decked out in a mask and cape and gauntlets. I think it was about 40 degrees, with bright sun, during the race.

Hanging out in the hallway also gave us a chance to practice our collective game face. We were torn between tough faces and smiley faces. Kate went for "tough" in this one - and in another group photo, Josh and my brother chose tough while Kate and I went smiley. These are the decisions with which superheroes must grapple, I suppose.

We made our way out to the start on Main Street and got into the crowd:

The race got underway, and the first mile was just as fun as I remembered. It seems like we saw pretty much any costume you could imagine.

Tons of families lined the course, and it seems like kids will shout out the name of any character they recognize, which is unbelievably fun for the runner being identified. It doesn't matter that they might have just seen a Batman or two - they seem to get just as excited about seeing the Batman who's running by them at that moment. "Superman is running with Batman!" we heard one boy say. "Yeah! We're friends!" Josh replied. You're waving and laughing, and the first mile flies by.

Most runners wear costumes for this race, so the people-watching in the race field is pretty great. We even had dueling superheroes groups, thanks to some of my brother's friends! My favorite group costume, hands-down, was the Paul Bunyan and Babe group. You'd think that'd be a duo, right? Well, not when Paul and Babe are sized true to legend!

They're both on wheels and there are people running inside the structures. Pretty amazing, right?

Midway through the race, my brother started cracking jokes about kryptonite and being faster than a speeding bullet.

Right at the end, our whole race was made even better when we passed a runner and he said to his friend, "I think we just got passed by the Justice League." It was the first shout-out to us as a group instead of our individual characters! We crossed the finish line as a group, collected our t-shirts and cider, and made our way back home.

I'm so glad I came back to this race for a second year. Who's with me in 2013?

Mankato Marathon report

Here we go! Settle down in a comfortable chair and grab a cup of tea, Reader, 'cause this is really, really long.

(The short version: It was a tough day, but today - a day later - I'm feeling just proud and happy!)

Back at the start of summer, I picked the Mankato Marathon as my fall race, for several reasons:

• Perfect timing (still in October but after Twin Cities Marathon weekend and the conference in Montreal)
• An even better chance of cool weather than races in early October
• A soft spot in my heart for the energy of small-town races
• Super-easy logistics and much friendlier on the wallet than registering for and traveling to a big race like Chicago

Most people either love small races and loathe big ones or vice versa. I loved the experience at both Chicago (the biggest race I've ever run, with 40,000 runners) and Mankato (with fewer than 500 marathoners), even though they couldn't be more different.

But I'm getting ahead of myself! I got through a long, hot summer of training and basked in fall's cooler temperatures and faster paces. I was happy with the 18-week training plan I chose. I was happy with my tune-up races this fall: Bolder Dash, Bear Water Run, and the Jon Francis 8K. I was even happy with my taper period, the three weeks leading up to the marathon during which you cut back your mileage to rest up but subsequently often get cranky with all the extra energy. I didn't get too cranky and I didn't have any of the aches and pains that typically fuel the pre-race nerves. I just felt really good leading up to the race.

On Saturday, Josh and I dropped Wish off at my mom and dad's house and headed to Mankato to check in at our B&B and pick up my race packet. We ran some errands around town to grab dinner and some Gatorade, and then hung out in our room to watch Alabama throttle Tennessee (sadface). I fell asleep around 10:00, woke up to my alarm at 4 a.m. to chug some Gatorade, and then woke up for the day at 6 a.m. to have my real breakfast: a cup of coffee and an English muffin with peanut butter.

By the way, I have to show you the room key we got at the B&B!!

Isn't that so much more fun than a little electronic card!? I want all of my keys to be like that!

Okay, back to business. Getting to the start line is one of the great perks of a small-town race. Josh and I left at 7:10 or so and drove five minutes to the starting area at the university - with no traffic at all - and parked in a huge lot 25 yards away from the actual start line. It was so easy and low-key. I relaxed in the warm car for awhile, and then hopped out and he went on his merry way to the first cheering location at mile 3.5.

Conditions at the start felt just about perfect: 42 degrees and partly cloudy with a light breeze. I dreamt about weather like this all summer, folks. The 10K started at 7:30, and then the half-marathon and marathon started at 8:00, right on time. It was never crowded, and the half-marathon split off in a different direction just before Mile 3.

My game plan was to be very relaxed for the first half of the race. Some people break a marathon into two 10-milers and a 10K; others think of the two halves. Either way, the real meat of the race (so to speak) comes in the second half, and it's just imperative to hold something back in the first half to save enough energy for when the race gets tough. The first few miles are actually supposed to feel almost too easy.

And they did. I started out gently, keeping the four-hour pace group ahead of me but in my sights. After a couple of miles, though, we got into more open farmland and it became apparent that the wind was probably going to come into play. I debated between keeping my pace all by myself or inching up just a little bit to catch the 4:00 group for the wind protection, and decided it'd be worth the risk to boost my pace ever so slightly to be part of a crowd.

Oh, hi!

By the way, in case you were curious about seeing my interpretation of the course via Paint It, wait no longer! It kind of looks like a "g" on its side.

The course worked kind of like a broken figure eight, so we ran the completed loop once, ran the middle part of the sideways "g" again, and then headed west and then north toward the finish line. The wind was coming mostly from the south and southeast, I think. (Author's note: The red line is the actual route, to demonstrate the part in the middle of the "g" that we ran twice. This illustration originally make complete sense to the author but no longer makes much sense at all. She might remove the image before the day is done, so enjoy it while it's here.)

The pace group offered lots more than wind protection. Sometimes I am wary of running near pace groups, which is funny because I would love to someday be a pacer. The pace leader holds up a little sign that says the goal pace and finish time (i.e. 9:10/mile, 4:00 finish) and is also in charge of motivating the group and also running the appropriate pace (not too fast, not too slow). They are really amazing and often finish within a minute of their marathon goal time. I sometimes avoid the groups because at larger races, though, because people can jostle to stay right on the pacer's shoulder in an effort to stay right on pace, so it sometimes feels too crowded for my liking.

But this group was really fun, and I really liked the pacer. She chatted a bit, offered tips and really just was a great example of staying calm and relaxed. And I felt calm and relaxed - I'd stick by the group but felt like I was holding back energy.

Here was my home for the first half of the race. I'm feeling great and am apparently having the time of my life!

I like our shadows, too. Near the start of the race, we ran past a cornfield and the runners' shadows were making a long, beautiful pattern over the field in the early morning daylight. It was beautiful.

Anyway, I was planning to move up ahead of the pace group after the halfway point. Then, from about mile 11.5 to 16, I ran into a virtually constant headwind that I'd learn later was a sustained 18 mph with gusts up to 28 mph. Oof. Choose your analogy of something screeching to a halt, and that'd be yours truly. It really, really took a toll on me (and most of the people around me). I was leaning forward and scrunching up my shoulders and just struggling to keep running, which is not the feeling at the halfway mark that I had expected. I saw Josh at Mile 13 and told him I was having trouble.

That stretch was one of the toughest I've ever experienced during a race. I was confused about where we were on my mental map of the course and didn't know how many miles this headwind would last, and that uncertainty was discouraging. Maybe it's because you have to break the marathon down mile by mile, minute by minute, and at that moment, it felt like the headwind had lasted forever and would continue to last forever!

But here's where the mark of a truly dear spectator is made. I saw Josh again at Mile 15 and instead of kind but general encouragement, that sweet, wonderful man had studied the course map and was able to say, "Listen, if you can get through one more mile, the entire next 10K will be with the wind either at your side or completely at your back," and that was exactly what I needed to hear. In every marathon, there are hard sections and easy sections, and it's not always possible to anticipate where they will be: you just have to ride out the tough parts. I did get through the next mile, and even though the wind had left my legs tuckered out, I was able to rebound - not to the 9:00/mile pace, but not too far off it.

Here, for example, I am motoring along so quickly that the police car is obviously primed to give chase:

I liked the next part of the course, which meandered down into a valley, I think, and along some pretty bike paths. Despite how challenging miles 12-16 were for me, the race was really moving along quickly because 12 miles had clicked by before I felt much exertion at all. Mile 17 is always a helpful point mentally because it starts the single-digit countdown and is also the spot where I realized I had one 10K and one 5K left. At Mile 21 or so, the weather started to heat up a little bit - the high would eventually top out around 72 degrees - and I ditched my long-sleeved shirt:

I was happy with miles 17-22. One of the lessons this fall was learning to trust my endurance and training: that even when I started to tire in the second half of a race, I could hold a pace and not let the wheels come off completely. I thought about that lesson often during this section and knew that I didn't need to throw in the towel just because of that headwind. I wasn't breaking any world records here, but I was making good progress and getting back into a stride that felt pretty nice.

One of my favorite parts of the last nine miles was the Sport Psych Team, a group of sport psychologists that rode the course on bikes and would somehow know just what to say. They'd offer really specific, helpful encouragement - the perfect blend of getting through one mile at a time while remembering the big picture. They'd say things like "You worked so hard, you're fit, and this is your big day" and I'd think, Hey, this is my big day! and get a little pep in my step. I had never run a race that included a group like this, and it was awesome. There were also various community groups and other spectators, and lots of people were holding posters, including one that said "BINDERS FULL OF RUNNERS" that made me laugh nonsensically.

And the rest? Well, that was just plain old hard, as miles 23-26 usually are in my experience. I started to walk more during that stretch, especially around mile 23 and 24 when it still felt like the finish line was so far off in the distance. Once I got closer to the end, the mental cajoling got into high gear. We were out on a bike path with no signs of a finish area anywhere in sight or sound, so I had to remind myself that the finish line was only 15 minutes away.

I got into Mile 25 and remember looking down at my Garmin and seeing that I had about three-quarters of a mile to go - the old "three laps around a track" trick that I employ often at this part of a race. This is where time really slows down for me, and I remember so much more of that last mile than many of the preceding miles. Can you run for seven more minutes? I remember thinking, and then rephrased it: You can run for seven more minutes. Then six minutes to go. Five minutes left. Four minutes to go. Then the finish line was in sight. Three more minutes. Two more minutes. I saw Josh a minute before the finish line and was pretty happy, albeit with eyes half-closed. That wasn't part of my finish strategy, I promise. The perma-smile leading up to the finish is, though. I told Josh later that even after eight marathons, the approach to the finish line never fails to be a wow life moment.

And then I was done! I crossed the finish line in 4:26, about half an hour slower than my personal best but half an hour faster than my previous marathon in Chicago.

Josh found me right away, and I wobbled over to sit down for awhile and then get to the car. I was not feeling good physically at this point - nothing serious, just an upset stomach. (I still haven't figured out the right Gu-and-water ratio for my body. Ugh.) We got back to my mom and dad's house and were ambushed by the dog, who had the Best Time Ever with my mom but was thrilled we were back!

Then I felt much better after some saltine crackers and ginger ale. Yum. And then I became a bottomless pit, starting with a wonderful Thai curry soup my mom made for dinner. (Thanks, Mom!) I modeled my t-shirt and medal, too!

For me, this race's lesson is the old adage that you can't control everything that happens, but you can control how you react and respond. With the unexpected wind in my face, it was hard to let go of my pace goal after feeling so good for half the race, and Josh can attest that I definitely had a little moment of metaphorical foot-stomping around Mile 15. But readjusting and moving on felt so much better than just checking out of the race mentally and dwelling on my original goals - and I know this summer's training gave me the tools to refocus and keep moving forward.

Today I feel a little sore, but mostly just happy and grateful: for the cheers and support from family and friends all weekend, for a partner who gets to eight locations over 26.2 miles and somehow manages to be energizing and calming in the same moment, for seeing what how my mind and body can tackle a challenge like the marathon. I am going to eat pizza and rest (that's today's plan, anyway!) and then I'll ponder what the spring might hold. But first: the pizza!

Thanks for reading - and for all of your kind words of encouragement along the way, too.

Jon Francis 8K Race Report

Oh, Reader, I'm afraid I'm becoming a broken record on Miles and Laurel. Clouds! Running! Skies! Leaves! Races!

Well, being that a whopping six days have elapsed since my last race report, I think it's time for another. If it seems to you like I'm racing a lot, you're right. I don't usually schedule this many on my calendar, but I explained a couple of weeks back that my marathon training plan has three weekends for which you run a race on Saturday (between 5-9ish miles, or 8-15 kilometers) before your regular long run on Sunday. This weekend is the second of those three, and I found a race in Stillwater: the Jon Francis Half-Marathon and 8K.

Proceeds from this race go to the Jon Francis Foundation. Jon's name was one I knew back in high school because he was a standout in the Minnesota prep running scene around the time when I was running cross-country. He died in a mountain climbing accident when he was 24, and the foundation is dedicated to supporting wilderness safety education. In a way, it was sobering - that's not quite the word I want, but it comes close - to participate in a memorial race named for someone who was born only a couple of years before you, on a course chosen to include the roads on which he trained for years. But even though I never met Jon Francis, given what I had read on the race website, I thought that he would have loved seeing hundreds of people gathering at beautiful Square Lake Park on a September Saturday morning for a run together - which is exactly what happened.

And indeed the park was gorgeous. I had never been out there before today, but it has a great reputation among Minnesota triathletes for the lake's water quality, which means a triathlon held there every September has always been on my radar.

The lake didn't look so appealing this morning, though. It was cold! 43 and windy, to be specific.

I got there with plenty of time for a long warm-up, so I jogged around some of the roads bordering the park. I wore a long-sleeved quarter-zip black shirt and 3/4-length tights for the race. For my warm-up, I brought along a pink fleece jacket that I basically wear with one or two layers in the most severe of winter weather conditions, so I was being a little dramatic. But when the wind was in my face, I have to admit that I didn't mind having that jacket along.

The views from the warm-up, I'd like to note, were lovely. Lots and lots of golden cornfields:

I love the light against the birches in this photo. Doesn't it say fall?

The race started a few minutes after 9:00, and the 8K (my race) and the half-marathon fields were together for the first three miles or so on a course that included both paved and dirt roads. (My first time racing on dirt roads since the Pork Chop Trot!) My pacing was, in a word, erratic. The hills were rolling, and I'd feel like I was trudging up a long incline, especially the ones on the softer dirt roads. But then we'd zoom along a gradual downhill for what felt like ages. I had no idea what my final time would end up being, or how I would feel at that point.

But - whew - I crossed the finish line feeling good, and my Garmin tells me I averaged a 7:43 pace per mile, which is consistent with other recent races and speedwork. I probably need to sprinkle some more hills into my miles for the last few weeks of training, but overall, thumbs-up.

And a thumbs-up to this event, too. I so wish I could have run the longer distance instead as part of my weekend long run, because I would've loved to explore more of that course! The volunteers were wonderful, the course was clearly marked, and the post-race food and drinks were great. (My favorite cheer from a volunteer was a man who said, "'Morning!" like he and I had just crossed paths on a stroll.)

Not to mention the fact that we got participation ribbons! Sweet, sweet, sweet.

Don't worry - I didn't race in the super-winter fleece jacket.

Okay, you got me. I really did to show you the ribbon, but I also wanted to show you that orange tree behind me!!

Bottom line: There are so many great events around the Twin Cities at this time of year, and this is one of them. I will keep this one on my list for next fall - the half-marathon next time!