Grant

...and then came spring. One early morning as we were running through town and had just come over the crest of a hill, she said, "I feel like I'm running six weeks pregnant." Again, words failed me. My mind raced. Is she pregnant? Is this her way of telling me? What if she isn't, and I ask: will her heart hurt even more? I remained silent, and we finished our run and parted ways.  

Several days later as we ran in the hour before dawn and we were talking about upcoming races, she counted herself out for a fall marathon. That's when I knew. And I had the courage to ask, "Are you...?" Yes, joy comes in the morning! My heart was happy, and light, and thankful. 

The months passed and Amy kept on running until finally we had to train separately as we approached our marathon date, and she approached her due date. But still, nearly every day she'd check in with me, asking me for updates, and coaching me along the way. At the local fabric store I spied a piece of number fabric and was instantly drawn to it for a baby quilt for Amy's little one. Runners are constantly crunching numbers, trying to set PRs, and so forth. The rest of the fabrics were chosen to coordinate with the colors of the numbers, and to suit a baby boy. The pattern is from Allison Harris of Cluck Cluck Sew, and is called Kaleidoscope. 

I started cutting pieces in early September, and had the hand-quilting done by early December. I just had to wait for the new little babe to make his appearance so I could label the back with his name. Waiting is hard, even when you aren't the expectant mother. ;-)

Finally, on December 16, Grant came into the world healthy and loved. I shared with Amy how much I loved his name, and how I thought it was so fitting since God had granted her another baby after losing Jack. (I was reminded a bit of Hannah in 1 Samuel 1.) Two full weeks passed until we got to meet this new little beautiful person, and it was good to finally hold him. 

It was good to see Verne holding him, too. It took me back to the days when our children were newborns. He definitely still has the touch, and was able to put Grant to sleep.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.

Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them;
They shall not be ashamed,
But shall speak with their enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127:3-5

We Ran a Marathon, and it was Monumental

Be warned, this is a long post!

After 18 weeks of training which included 714 miles, several pairs of shoes, aches and pains, blisters, scorching temperatures, massages, sunrise after sunrise, and plenty of encouragement from several running friends we arrived in Indianapolis last Thursday evening for our first marathon. We're in agreement that the road to the race was just as significant as the race itself. Training together for hours on end, encouraging one another, and working toward a common goal made us closer and strengthened our marriage.

 It was cold and rainy when we arrived in Indy Thursday evening. Stormy, actually. I prayed that we wouldn't have to run in a torrential downpour come Saturday morning.

We headed to the expo to pick up our packets containing our shirts and race bibs. Verne was smiling from ear to ear. He'd wanted to run a marathon for years, and the moment was finally getting close. I'm so glad I trained for this marathon with him. It's one thing to watch someone that you love enjoy something, but I think it makes it even more special to participate with them.

We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and enjoying dinner. Traveling for a race is a bit different than just going on vacation as you need to be careful of what you eat. I can easily get a migraine when eating out because of MSG, and I have to be very careful of my choices. And no one needs an upset stomach on race day. We ended up at PF Changs where I ordered a bland dish of quinoa and garden veggies topped with an egg. Though it wasn't extremely flavorful, it was a good choice.

On Friday, we attempted to drive the race course, but it took us nearly 30 minutes to get 4 miles, and we called it quits. There was too much traffic, and too many one way streets to be successful. We had baked potatoes for lunch, and I had a cup of chicken noodle soup alongside mine. Verne chose a salad, and was a little bit sorry later.

The rain had stopped, and we walked several miles in the afternoon, went through the expo again, and ended up right on Monumental Circle where I splurged and got a haircut. Verne waited for me in the relaxation room, and then we walked some more.

Most runners eat pasta the night before a race, and while I love pasta, sometimes the acid in the tomato sauce can upset my stomach. We had decided that we were going to be untraditional carb-loaders and have pancakes. It worked!

We were in bed early Friday night, and surprisingly we both slept pretty well. The alarm sounded at 5:30 Saturday morning, and I hopped out of bed and began packing my suitcase. We had to check out of our room before running the race since we knew we'd not make it back to the hotel for the 11 am mandatory checkout. Verne headed to the lobby to toast some bagels we had brought from home, and was met with envy from other runners when they realized that the hotel wasn't offering them for breakfast. We topped our bagels with peanut butter and shared a 16 oz bottle of orange juice. After carrying everything out to the car, we waited in the warmth of the hotel lobby until it was time to walk the half mile or so to the start.

The sidewalks were lined with other race participants and everyone was very friendly- especially the ones from Pittsburgh wearing Steelers attire. ;-) It's funny how you can sleep a stone's throw from Lucas Oil Stadium and not see one Colts fan, but meet several Steelers fans in five minutes.

It was much darker than these photos show as we waited for the race to start. We had prayed together in the hotel, but Verne prayed with me again as we lined up in the crowd.

It took a few minutes after the start to feel like we were making any progress, as the streets were crowded with runners and clothing they had shed just as the race began. We waited until about mile 3 to remove our top layers and left them on the side of the road.

Both of us felt unusually relaxed considering the daunting task ahead of us. We ran and talked, and I loved looking over at Verne and seeing the smile on his face. He was finally running his marathon. I felt much more emotional watching his delight than anything I may have been feeling.

I don't remember much about the early spectators, but I really started enjoying the crowds around mile 5 or 6. This is about the point that I usually really start enjoying my runs, anyway. Those early miles don't excite me. I'm definitely more of a distance runner.

Back to the crowds- I loved how many people lined the streets of the neighborhoods we were passing through. I loved that young children stood at the road's edge to give the runners a high five. I loved that people were blasting music from speakers set up on their driveways. I loved the guys who sat on the side of the road and played guitar and sang. I admired the creative signs that spectators had made, and that they made eye contact and called us by name as they encouraged us. (Our first names were on our bibs.)

Some of my favorite signs:

* You Run Better than Our Government
* Run, Random Stranger, Run!
* Pain is Temporary, Results are on the Internet Forever!
* YOU are AWE inspiring!

Around Mile 20 there was a girl on the side of the road with a yellow poster board sign that said, "Punch here! Guaranteed to Give You an Energy Burst! No one passed her without punching the designated "punching spot". You have no idea until you've experienced it just how the acts and encouragement of random strangers can affect you.

Of course there were water/aid stations, but residents lined the streets and handed out fruit snacks, water, candy, pretzels, and beer.

I loved that people had their dogs out, and that the dogs seemed to be cheering us on. The entire race Verne would ask me, "What breed is that?", and I'd answer. It was great to occupy my mind with something that I love.

Speaking of occupying my mind, most people don't realize that running is just as much mental as physical. I quote Scripture to myself when the going gets tough. I sing songs in my head, and thankfully, Verne and I had each other to talk to. One of my favorite things about the Monumental Marathon were the trivia facts around mile 19, if I remember correctly. There were signs set up with a trivia question, and just a short time later there was another sign with the answer. This was a great mental break for me, and I heard others commenting about it as well. Sometimes when a run gets boring I think about quilt blocks. It didn't happen during this race, though.

I'm happy to say that I never "hit the wall" during the marathon. My stomach did feel very crampy around mile 20. I had nibbled on a Honey Stinger waffle, ingesting only about half of it when I started feeling bad. I mentioned it to Verne and then immediately saw an aid table with a sign advertising that they had bananas. JOY! and then disappointment as I realized that they had run out of fruit. On the table were pretzels, Jolly Ranchers, and fun size Snickers. I looked at the Snickers, and thought about the fact that I needed fuel, but also going through my mind was "Nothing new on race day!" I hadn't trained with Snickers. In fact, I hadn't eaten a Snickers bar for years. For some unknown reason, I found myself grabbing and unwrapping that candy bar and taking a bite. Instantly, I felt better. It was the weirdest thing!

That was truly my only struggle through the race. Verne struggled in a different way. His hamstrings felt tight around mile six, and by mile 13 he was in serious pain and feared he was getting a Charlie horse. If I haven't mentioned it before, not only did we train together, but we decided to run the marathon together. Not just at the start, but the entire 26.2 miles. My delight in watching his excitement, and praising God that we could share this together quickly turned to prayer for mercy and strength for Verne. I knew we'd finish, but I didn't want him to be disappointed if we had to walk for miles and miles. I kept a watch on the time, and reminded him when it was time to take another SaltStick cap. I suggested he eat a few of the pretzels we packed with us. The cramps were getting worse in his legs despite trying to fight them off, and around mile 22 he needed to walk. We walked just a short distance, and he was ready to try running again. The running didn't last too long before I could tell he was in excruciating pain. I suggested we move to the side of the road and stop for a minute while I would try to rub the cramp out of his leg. He agreed. I rubbed his thigh in the offending spot as hard as I could, and we tried running again. This happened twice, and we had to alternate running and walking for a few miles. Verne kept apologizing, and I kept telling him not to. We were in this together. We are a  team, and he wasn't letting me down. Finally, at mile 25 my inner drill-sergeant kicked in and I told Verne that we could run slowly, but we weren't walking anymore. I know it was a struggle with his cramps, but he's glad we ran that last bit of the distance.

When we passed the sign for mile 26, I don't think he was feeling much pain. Verne took my hand and we sprinted for the finish. Now, Verne's over a foot taller than me, and holding hands and running with someone isn't easy. I felt like I was being taken along for a ride. We crossed the finish at the exact same moment, and fell into each other's arms. There was no one there to witness our finish(that we knew) except each other. Our official time was 4:24:28.

Immediately after finishing, we were given medals, solar blankets, and a water. I appreciated that the volunteer was opening the waters as he handed them to the finishers. Such a small act, but I thanked him for it. We both grabbed a banana, and started walking back toward the course hoping to see a few other runners from our town. In this sea of people, as we walked along the sidewalk we ran across a young man from our homeschool athletic team and his dad. Verne has coached the boys in this family for basketball, and we've coached them together for track and cross country. Here we were, five hours from home, seeing familiar faces. It was great to be able to walk and talk with them. Andrew was visiting a college, and they had hoped to watch us finish.

We walked two miles before driving south to the hotel where we'd be spending the night. Verne had arranged a hotel with a jacuzzi in the room where we could enjoy the evening. Once arriving at the hotel we stretched for nearly an hour, enjoyed the jacuzzi, and dressed for dinner. We hadn't really had much to eat all day and we were beginning to feel hungry.

Back when I first started walking, a friend of mine suggested that Verne and I take a trip somewhere to reflect the mileage that we were accumulating. I guess this was that trip, though it came much later than anticipated. It was like a honeymoon of sorts, with a really long run thrown in. Verne doted on me, and made me feel special, as he does every day. It's a joy to be his partner in running, and in everyday life.

I've been asked several questions, so I'll answer them here. If you have any more, feel free to ask!

What was the farthest you ran before the marathon? We were scheduled for 20 miles. Verne did that, but I threw my back out and had to skip the long run that week. The most I ever went was 19.

You and V stayed together- I would imagine as a male he is a faster runner than you- so how did that work out? Well, let me tell you that we've been asked this a lot. The Monday before the marathon, Verne's boss was here for dinner and asked if I'd be able to keep up with Verne. I was offended, but kept it to myself. After the marathon, a (male)friend of our ours who is training for a half marathon asked Verne if he had to slow down for me. Um, no.

In 2012, I beat Verne in a 5k (3.1 miles), a 5 mile race, a 10k (6.2 miles), and a half marathon (13.1 miles). He also beat me plenty of times. That being said, we aren't exactly evenly matched. Most of the time, Verne's going to beat me in a shorter race. He sprints better than I do. As I explained above, shorter distances aren't my thing. My body doesn't feel wonderful the minute I start running. It takes me several miles to warm up and feel really good. Because we trained together so much for this race, we were very used to running at the same pace. It wasn't difficult at all to stay together.

Do you know if your pace was consistent throughout, or did you run faster for like the first half? 
The plan was to run the first half slower, pick up around mile 18, and then again around 23 or 24. Plans don't always go the way you think they will. We started too fast. I'm the one that keeps us on pace. My runs are usually really consistent. Our first mile was 9:11. I wanted it to be 10:00. I told Verne we needed to slow down, and our second mile was 9:41. Miles 3- 12 were very close to a 9:30 pace, and then Verne cramped at mile 13 and we slowed. Obviously the miles we had to run/walk were slower and we ended with a 10:06 pace.

Why did you do a race in Indiana? I really dislike the heat, so we wanted a fall race. Indiana was advertised as flat, and a great course for first time marathoners. It fell at a good time of year.

How did the cold/heat affect you throughout? The temperatures were perfect. It was about 41°F at the start, and about 52°F when we finished. I felt really warm the last 3 miles or so because the sun was really bright, and was glad that I had worn a sleeveless tank.

How was your recovery? Honestly, recovery was great. We walked 2 miles after the race. We stayed on the second floor of the hotel, and I made us walk down the stairs several times that day and the next morning. We walked around an outlet mall after dinner the evening of the race. I think keeping active helped immensely. I did have really bad lower back pain on Sunday, but after we walked following the race, I stood in the cold for close to 30 minutes before we left for the hotel. I think I held myself stiff because I was cold, and it hurt my back. The long drive back home didn't help, either. We stopped and went to church before coming the rest of the way home, but that was more sitting. Monday we walked a little over 3 miles, and I ran 2 miles, and walked again on Wednesday. That evening we both had massages. I don't feel at all like I ran a marathon. Verne's legs are still sore. That cramping takes awhile to go away. He ran 2 miles for the first time this morning.

Are you happy with your time? Yes, and no. The goal for your first marathon should be to finish it, with no time expectations. I don't know anyone who does that, though. I knew that realistically we should be able to finish between 4:10 and 4:30. I'm disappointed that it took us closer to the 4:30, but I'm also pleased that with the complications we had that we came in under the mark.

I was texting with my friend and fellow runner, Amy, in the afternoon following the marathon and sharing my feelings with her. Here's her reply to me:

Ahhh....I recall feeling the exact same way, happy to have finished, but a little disappointed I hadn't finished faster. What I think is important is that YOU DID IT!  You accomplished something so many people never will, something some people only dream of, something some people would die to be able to do just once.  Think of all those runners out there that will never run a marathon, that will never do it in the time you did, those that are injured now and couldn't run, or pregnant like me who'd love to have raced today.  The gift is being of able mind and body to accomplish such a feat. The number to focus on isn't so much your finishing time, which I believe is awesome by the way.  It's all the hours, days, weeks, and months that you put into preparing for it.  That's the real accomplishment.  And more than anything, I think the most special part of it all was doing the training and the race with your life partner.  First marathons, like any firsts, are special, but yours was special in a way that is quite unique and different than most everyone else.  You shouldn't feel anything but happiness and pride right now.   I'd trade a faster time in any day for having had the opportunity to run my first, our first, with Matt.  You may forget the time.  You won't forget the circumstance.

And you know what? She's absolutely right!

October 2013

Recipe for the popcorn bars can be found here. I HIGHLY recommend adding nuts. 

October came, and now it's nearly gone. I completed another trip around the sun. I gave and received snuggles, cooked soups and scones, ate goodies, oversaw Abigail's lessons, finished two quilt tops, and ran. And ran. And ran.

Three more sleeps until Verne and I run our marathon. I think we'll both be glad for the time change that night.

Running

Some days I sit in front of my computer, click over to this blog and start to type.  And then I feel paralyzed. I wonder, does anyone care what I have to say; do they really want to see what I've sewn, or what I cooked for dinner? Does anyone have to care, or can I journal it just for me? The minutes, hours, days, and years are slipping by and I do enjoy having a record of them.

Sometimes, people email me and ask me questions, and I still feel paralyzed. I'm not an expert on anything, to be sure. I dabble in LOTS of things! When it comes to running I feel especially under-qualified to answer questions, and yet, I've been asked... by several people. And then it occurred to me. Maybe I'm being asked because I'm not an expert... maybe I'm being asked because it's less intimidating  than approaching someone who seems to have it all together. So, finally, here we are. To those of you whom have been anticipating this post, please accept my apology in delaying for such a long time.

I've been often asked how I got started running. Or more importantly, how someone else should start. My answer? Start slowly. Really slowly. As a matter of fact, if you're new to exercise I'd start with walking. That's exactly what I did. But a word of advice? Build your mileage much slower than I did. The first month I walked I covered 203 miles. That's way too much. Aim for 60-90 miles at a brisk pace. I know even that can seem daunting to a beginner, but it's doable. And it does get easier pretty quickly.

You can read more about the start of my walking career here.

Once I'd been walking for 4 months I set out for my first run. Because I'd been so diligent about my daily walks, and because I'd pushed myself to walk briskly, I was able to transition to running with no problems. Depending on your age, I'd say the same would happen for most people. You can read a little more about my transition from walking to running here.

 Us, at 5:30 am, after we've already run 6 miles. 

Another question I've been asked- do I follow a plan, or listen to my body? Well, I've done both. Personally, I think listening to your body is the best way to go, but you have to really listen. In the beginning of my running career I definitely listened to my body. If I really felt too tired, and didn't just feel like being lazy, I'd take the day off. If I went out for a run and felt great I'd go farther than I intended. If I set out to do a longer run but grew too tired or wasn't feeling well I'd cut my run short. I trained for my first half marathon this way, and ran the full distance that the race would cover seven times before the actual race. I didn't wear myself out, or become injured. It's important to note here that I wasn't afraid to take a day off during those weeks, or to run just two or three miles on some days.

Verne and I began training for a full marathon last January, and when I started following the schedule more strictly, and switched to a different surface, I did injure myself. We put the marathon aside and I had to stop running for eight weeks. Now you might see why I think listening to your body is so important.

How have I gotten faster? Well, fast is a relative term. I'm faster than I was when I first started, to be sure, but I'm slower than I was at this time last year.

After my first half marathon, the days grew warmer and I decided to try speed work one day a week. I figured the faster running would make up for the fewer miles I was running when I was too hot to be comfortable on a long run. It worked. My times got faster last summer despite the heat and shorter runs. I searched out hills, and would sprint up them. I'd often do fartleks on shorter runs. These strategies all led to faster miles. 

Oh! And I raced. Competition is great for increasing your time if you're competitive. I raced a lot last year. Competition isn't just about beating the person in front of you, it's about beating yourself. This year, because of my injury, I've only raced twice. 

Our 24th anniversary- we ran several miles together early that morning. 

To be honest, the injury isn't the only thing that's kept me from competing this year. Last summer, running was new to me. I loved growing faster, and pushing my body to see what I could do. This year, my goals are a bit different.

After I recovered from my injury and picked my mileage back up, Verne and I started to discuss a marathon again. He's wanted to run a marathon for years, and put his dreams on hold when I became injured so that we could run together. Though it would be hard to train through the hot summer months, we picked a race in the fall to aim for.

We're back to following a schedule, and we're 12 weeks in to an 18 week training plan. There's no speed work on my calendar. No races. When I'm running 40+ miles a week in the heat I find I'm too drained to add those things in.

Rain or shine, light or dark, we're out there, day after day. The blessing is that we're in this together. We encourage one another when one of us is having a hard time carrying on.

I've never seen so many beautiful sunrises in my entire life as I have this summer.

I'm so thankful for all of these miles with my husband.

This training has been tough. Some days are easier than others, to be sure, but some days I just pray silently that the LORD would give me His strength to get through the run.

As I run up the hills I recite Psalm 121 in my mind. And once I reach the top, Philippians 4:13 fills my thoughts. Praying for others fills the moments that I find difficult, and takes my mind off of myself. 

We may have to postpone again, this time because Verne is feeling some pain. We're allowing him to listen to his body, which is by far the better way to train. It's never good to become a slave to a program.

I'll leave you with a little motivation. What if, by heading out the door each morning you could take in sights like this. They're there for the viewing. What are you waiting for?


If you have any questions, I'm happy to answer in the comments. Ask away!

Dog Days of Summer

We're keeping cool as best we can, Abigail and I enjoy our pool in afternoon, while Kanye digs himself holes in the backyard to nestle into. Silly dog. He loves the spot behind the rosebush underneath our bedroom window. He looks like a different dog than he did last fall when we took him in. He went from 40 pounds to 80, and his heart is just so loving. He loves to be brushed, and scratched, and kissed and hugged. It's as if he's always been here.

The garden is producing like nobody's business. We eat our fill of peppers and zucchini nearly everyday. Now to do something with the beets!

Verne and I are training for a fall marathon. We both got a kick out of the above cartoon a fellow running friend shared. These hot days have been difficult for long runs. I don't want to wish my days away, but I am looking forward to the cooler weather.

July has been productive out of the garden, too. This quilt sat for over a year, and only lacked the binding. After finishing Collin's quilt last Saturday, I decided it was high time to finish this one too. I finished the binding last Tuesday and placed it on the queen-sized air mattress in the spare room. It looks much nicer than having the room sit entirely empty.

Kanye

We've had a doghouse on our front porch for a few years now. It's lined with cedar chips and the cat sleeps in it year round. This is no cat-sized doghouse, mind you. This is a large house that can easily accomodate an 80 pound dog. Overkill yes, but we already owned it, so...

In mid-October, this chocolate Labrador Retriever showed up in our yard. He isn't the first stray to stop over, but he didn't really look like a stray, either. At least at first glance. And I wasn't touching him. And I directed Collin and Abigail not to touch him. "We are not keeping him". 

Day after day, there he was. One morning as I went to go run he was nowhere to be seen. I thought that he had finally moved on, until I discovered that rather than moving on, he had moved in. To the doghouse that is. He was sound asleep. Two days later I set out a bowl of water and food for him. He was looking thin and I took pity. Still- no touching. 

Meanwhile, Collin started calling this dog Kanye, pronounced 'kah- nyay', after a rapper. He told me that I could also call the dog by Kanye's nickname, Yeezy. Um...okay. It didn't seem likely that this dog would ever come to either of those names, and I called him Buddy. It's a good general name for a male dog. 

One morning as I went to run, "Kanye" followed along. I have no idea why he came with me this day, but he kept just ahead of me for about a mile and a half where he met  another loose dog. They both wagged their tails, and ran off into a field. I continued on. By the time I completed four miles, Kanye and the other dog came running over a hill. It was as if the other dog, who I see daily, had said to Kanye, "Don't worry- I know where she goes and I'll help you find her." They parted ways and Kanye was slightly ahead of me once more. He kept looking back to check on me. As we came up a hill, a few little dogs slipped under their fence to bark at me as they do more often than not. I kept running, as usual, but Kanye took very wide circles around me, distracting the dogs. He continued to look back to me as if making sure I was okay. When he felt his job was done, he sat in a yard and waited for me to catch up. Although I had never been in danger, he didn't know that, and I praised him. Now he was tagging along behind me.

Not more than a tenth of a mile later, two rottweiler-mixes came running across the field. I run past these dogs every day. While they bark at me, they also wag their tails. I always talk to them as I pass, saying something like, "Good morning, boys!" When Verne, Mac, or  Collin run with me, the dogs get very protective of me, and bark ferociously, without the tail-wagging. I'm not sure if they thought Kanye was a threat to me, but they attacked him. I was way ahead, and didn't dare get in the middle of the situation, but one dog grabbed Kanye's neck while the other straddled him and bit his legs. I thought they would kill him and I screamed. They did let go, and Kanye ran back the opposite direction. I immediately called Collin and had him come for me. Within a few minutes were were driving, windows down, calling for a dog who didn't respond to any name. I had never touched him, but he stood up for me, and I was worried that he'd gone off to die.

We drove a two mile stretch, and I cried. I told Collin to go home, and prayed that if he could, he'd find his way back to our home.

Collin pulled into the driveway and as I got out of his car, Kanye came limping over to me. I was immediately relieved, and started crying harder. I bent down to touch him, and he licked my entire face as if to say, "I'm so glad that you're okay!"

I had Collin carry the doghouse out back, and Kanye immediately went in and laid down while we called the vet. His wounds were deep, and he was in much pain. Off we went, to have his injuries cared for. And to get him shots. Kanye was staying. Outside.

The vet examined him thoroughly, and asked permission to keep him overnight. He was shaved, his wounds were cleaned, and he was started on antibiotics. The weather had turned cold, and I couldn't bear the thought of him being in pain in the cold, and in to the house Kanye came.

We did call the animal shelter to see if anyone had reported him missing, and the vet checked for a microchip. We have no idea where he came from, or what his history is. Consequently, when we tried to crate him when we had to be out of the house, Kanye panicked. He pawed at the crate, moving the bottom pan, and chewed at the carpet underneath.

This stray dog has turned out to be very expensive!

Nevertheless, we all love him. He's gentle, and sweet, and has gained 15 pounds in the short time we've had him.

He and Lucy were fast friends, and can often be found hogging the sofa when they aren't wrestling.

He knows his name, and he knows he's loved. He sleeps with Collin, but doesn't let me out of his sight the rest of the time. 

Four Weeks, Four Races

The Great Race

 Before the race, and after

A few weeks back I mentioned that Verne, Collin, and I ran in Pittsburgh's Great Race, but I never wrote any more about it. It was a busy weekend, and we had a very late night the evening before as we attended the Pirate game and then headed out for an extra late supper. Sleep was elusive, and we woke early to get to the starting line on time.

We drove to my brother's home, which was a ten minute walk to the starting line. We parked there, left Abigail in his charge, and made our way to the start. The air was brisk, and I was grateful. I prefer running in the cold.

The energy at the starting line was amazing. People were in such good moods. Everyone was talking, laughing, and singing. It didn't feel overly crowded, though there were 8200+ people participating. The gun went off, and the crowd started slowly moving. And then stopped. And then started moving. And then stopped. We were positioned about mid-way through the crowd of runners, and it took us nearly five minutes to reach the starting line. Thanks to chip-timing, our results would be based from the time we passed over the start line, and not from when the gun was fired.

The first mile was slow, but still so much fun! There was a man playing a bugle in his front yard, and the crowd of runners would yell, "CHARGE!" I waited for the crowd to thin out, but it never did. It started raining, which I didn't mind a bit. I actually love running in the rain. The Great Race is "predominately downhill", and when the roads became slick because of the rain, and the crowds were pressing in around me, I forced myself to slow down. A fast time isn't worth tripping and not only getting hurt, but possible being trampled. It truly was a little scary.

Once I slowed down, I mentally told myself to "just enjoy the experience." I really did enjoy running in the city, seeing the spectators cheering despite the pouring rain, and being a part of it all. Collin and Verne had long left me behind, and I was surprised to see Collin ahead of me shortly after mile 4. I intended to keep behind him, but felt myself inching closer as two older women were cheering to the crowd, "Don't stop! You're almost at the top, and it's all downhill from there!"  Just as I reached the top of the hill, Collin looked over his right shoulder and spotted me.

"Hello, Mom."

"Hello, Collin!"

"How long have you been there?"

And we continued to chat for a while until he found an opportunity to pull ahead of me once again. (Collin's entire goal was to be me.) I caught up with him once again, but near mile six he found the will to pull ahead, and left me behind. I was proud of him. He finished 24 seconds ahead of me, and there were roughly 125 people who finished between us. Yes, it was a very large race.

Verne beat both Collin and I, and loved the entire experience. Collin and I agreed that while the energy was fun, we didn't really enjoy running in that large of a crowd.

All in all, it was a great race. Haha. Get it?

 

The Color Run

The very next weekend after the Great Race, Abigail, Autumn, and I participated in The Color Run. I only started hearing about these races last spring, and immediately decided I wanted to do one. These races are mostly done by women, and are strictly for fun. There's nothing competitive about it. You start with a plain white t-shirt, and run(or walk) 3.1 miles passing  through several "color zones" where you are blasted with color. There are no awards, and there isn't even a clock.

We spent the night in a hotel, just us girls, with Autumn showing up around 2:15 AM because she'd had to work, and then make a drive to join us. Needless to say, we didn't sleep much that night either. Instead, we lay awake, giggling, and snuggling, and listening to Sufjan Stevens. (That was Autumn's doing!)

We woke early after very little sleep, and greeted the morning. We had been afraid it would rain and the race would be cancelled, but the rain stopped, and we faced icy air. It was in the mid-40's as we left the hotel.

Autumn looking very enthusiastic!

We made our way to the start, and jumped in behind everyone else already standing there. It was after we stood there waiting for about 30 minutes that we were told we were actually at the front of the line, and not the back. Oh, dear! 10,000 people and there we were, right up front. I was worried, thinking back to how it had been the previous week in Pittsburgh, and warned Autumn. "When they start, RUN!" And run, she did. I stayed with Abigail, and Autumn took off like a shot, afraid of being trampled. Thankfully, because the race wasn't timed, the crowd was very mild. 

Mac and his girlfriend arrived to watch early that morning too. Mac captured this shot and the one above. This is at the finish line. Everyone is given a packet of color, and after everyone is through, they count down and everyone throws their color at the same time. It was so much fun to be there with my girls. I do have to say that as the colors mixed, and the dust began to settle, I felt a little like we were in a nuclear explosion. As Mac watched from the sidelines, he said he had the same thoughts.

I thought Mac needed a little color, and hugged him. Here he is with both girls. 

My shoes after the race...and my socks. Oh, my! 

Although the color is, in effect, colored cornstarch, it does not come off of your skin easily. Or out of your hair! It made a lovely paste in my hair, and I had to work for quite some time to get it out. 

I think it's safe to say that all three of us had a great time!

Thin Mint Sprint

I'm saving all of my race t-shirts and making a quilt with them. When I saw that the Thin Mint Sprint shirt was going to be exceptionally cool, I wanted one. Problem? I was running a half-marathon the next day. I knew there was no way to run hard one day, and run a good half-marathon the next day, and so I wrote the race off. That is until Abigail said, "You could run it with me." See, Abigail runs slower than my training runs. Since I would do a three mile run the day before my half anyway, running with her would be perfect. If I was there solely to encourage her and be her "rabbit",  I wouldn't be tempted to run fast, and I'd have enough energy for the next day. Perfect solution! 

True to my word, I stuck with her, encouraging her along the way. I made her do fartleks along the course, and pushed her to go faster than she normally would. I didn't let her win, as I didn't want to patronize her, but I kept just far enough ahead to make her work harder. I'm so proud of my girl! She finished in 29:16, which is a good three minutes faster than her normal 5k time! She took first in her age group, got a cool t-shirt, and a box of Thin Mint cookies. You really can't beat that, can you?

I don't think I stopped smiling all day long. 

Iron Horse Half Marathon

After our morning race, we got cleaned up, took a walk, and lounged. We napped for awhile in the evening, and after Collin got off work we set out for a hotel close to the race. Once again, we had a late night. Surprisingly, I slept much better than I anticipated, and we were up early once again. 

Since my first half-marathon in the spring, I'd been planning on my next. I worked so hard building up to that first half, and then summer arrived. I'm not much for hot weather, and although I ran nearly every day, my mileage decreased significantly during the hotter months. I managed a few longer runs in the last two months, but didn't think I was in near the shape that I had been earlier in the year. Oh well. I knew I could finish the race, and that's what really matters. 

I woke feeling unusually laid back. I felt good, and wasn't at all nervous, though I had been earlier in the week. "Just enjoy the day," I told myself. 

Verne was checking his watch as we got in line for the porta potties. We heard the announcement, "Five minutes to race time." 

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked me. 

"What do you mean? I'm going to wait and use the bathroom! If I don't go now, I'll have to stop and go on the course. If you want to get in line, go ahead."

He chose to wait, too. Being the hygienic people we are, we both chose to use the portable hand-washing station as we exited our respective potties. I got lots of soap, and couldn't get it rinsed. There I stood, pumping my foot, desperately trying to get some water onto my hands, and the gun went off. We looked at each other, and shrugged. "Good thing it's chip-timed!" 

We made our way to the start, and started a slow run as we crossed under the chip sensors. Starting at the back isn't without advantages. Sure, you  have to weave in and out of hundreds upon hundreds of people if you want to move up, but you can't take off too fast and wear yourself out, either. 

The weather was warmer than I would have liked, being in the low 60's, but it was breezy, and felt pretty good. Verne and I made small talk when we weren't weaving this way and that. He'd had a bad night, and had an upset stomach, and I silently prayed for him. 

The early pink light of that mid-October morning was gorgeous, and I drank it in. This is my time of year. Crisp temperatures, spicy smells, a gentle breeze. It was perfection. Though there were throngs of people, it didn't feel nearly as crowded as the races I had done in the previous weeks, or even as my first half-marathon. 

We came up over the crest of a hill, and though I'm not a horse-person, the sight and sounds filled my senses, and I was overcome with emotion. We were running through a majestic horse farm, and a large herd of horses was feeling frisky, I suppose due to the hundreds of folks running past, and took off to one end of the pasture, circled around, and came thundering back, screeching to a halt right at the fence.   Judging from the remarks of the other runners, I wasn't the only one in awe.  

Around mile three I noticed a woman holding her side while making her way up the hill. I ran behind her, praying for her, and as I approached her side I asked her if she was okay. She said she was cramping, but trying to rub it out. I told her that I had noticed, and that I was praying for her and would continue to do so. She smiled and thanked me. All the while, I was praying for Verne too, as he was slowly falling behind me. 

As I came up over the crest of another hill, a very large stick fell from the tree and landed not more than eighteen inches in front of me. Immediately after that a walnut fell. I was well aware of God's protection, and silently thanked Him for keeping me safe. My race could have ended right there. 

We came back through the town, and once again, emotions ran high. There was a great crowd of spectators cheering us on, and little children lined the edges of the streets to slap the runners' hands. One woman in the crowd made eye contact with me, and told me that I was doing a great job. I got teary, thankful for her encouragement, and ran a little faster.

The next four miles flew by with little effort. And then, at mile 11, I began to grow tired. I could feel a blister on my toe. My thighs were burning, and I was growing weary. I didn't let myself slow down. Right around mile 13, I spotted an acquaintance who had been rather far ahead of me, and the adrenaline kicked in. I've never sprinted like that in my life. Just before I finished I heard Abigail yelling, "GO, MOM!" I smiled as I passed her, and then immediately heaved. Repeatedly. Thankfully, nothing came up, but I had never felt so sick after running before. Verne says he had a coach that told him if you don't vomit when you're done, you didn't run hard enough. So, there you go. 

Ill prepared as I felt going into this race, I knocked 6 minutes and 21 seconds off of my first half-marathon time, and finished in 1:48:03.  

Verne finished well, too. His stomach ended up not causing him any problems, and for that, I'm thankful!

I intended to take the day off today, but put in several miles with Abigail. Call me crazy...