Magnolia Road Run – She’s a Bitch

I admit it. I’ve been getting  a bit psyched out about my run with Dean K. It’s two weeks from today. Here’s what’s causing the nerves:

1. I’ve never done a trail race
2. I’ve never done 20.4 miles on trails, racing or otherwise
3. I’ve never climbed 2,721 feet on trails running from 8,000 feet to 9,400 feet. I can hardly breathe just typing it. Would it be wrong to run with on oxygen tank?
4. I’ve never run/pooped alongside a celebrity runner
5. I’ve never done 1-4 above all at the same time

You’d be nervous too.

Dean and I shared emails yesterday. I do love to say that. I told him I might cry if it gets too hard. He told me crying is good because it adds to the drama. At least I am being up front and he can’t say I didn’t warn him.

My interview with the big man is by phone on Tuesday. Thanks so much for your interview question ideas. They were a great help. I’ve compiled a list of some good ones, so stay tuned later this week to be the first to read the interview Q & A!

In preparation for the upcoming race, I told you I wanted to run the famed Magnolia Road west of Boulder. Ken and I did it today. This run has quite a reputation. She’s hard. She’s tough. She’s not for the faint of heart. She takes you up into the clouds. She chews you up and spits you out. This is what the bitch looks like on my Garmin (spoiler: yes, I did make it):

  I stole this from someone:

The alarm went off way too early at 5:45 a.m. I lay awake in those pre-dawn moments when you snuggle down into your sheets, face planted against the drool-drenched-mattress, knowing that you are way too tired to even think about getting out of bed let alone running 15 miles.

Ignoring each other because that’s what we do in the early morning, Ken and I filled up water bottles and my bladder with Accelerade and water. I grabbed a cup of steaming coffee for the 45 minute drive to the start and tried to choke down a piece of cinnamon raisin bread (whopping 32 carbs per slice!).

I loaded up my new hydration pack with the bladder and two 20 oz bottles of liquid. I had two GUs and my camera. Oh, and some Wet Ones should I need them during a roadside squat.

We got to the start at 8,100 feet by 7:00 a.m. The road had just changed from paved to dirt, which was fine with me. 50 degrees. Perfect.

Here’s where I look like I’m doing a l’il Irish jig:

   

By mile one, I knew the pack was not going to work for me. It just didn’t fit right and kept swinging dramatically from side to side with each step I took. Since I would be taking about 30,000 steps that might be an issue. I had the straps as tight as they would go. Don’t get me wrong. I think the pack itself is comfortable, light weight and practical. I just think it’s too big for puny self. I will say that once I removed the bottles, I still had some jostling of the bladder, but it felt much better and served me well during the run.

Since I follow everything that is told to me on the internet, I had cleaned out the bladder with Polident denture cleaner. Spearmint. Probably not the best move, but my water was minty fresh for the run and so was my breath.

As we headed up the first huge hill, we hit mile one huffing and puffing like we had just finished 15 freaking miles. Only 14 more to go. I hid the water bottles knowing they were causing the pack to move so drastically. I would have to survive on the 1 liter of liquid in the bladder. It’s kind of neat how I would transfer from the bladder in the pack to my bladder. Anyone else find that fascinating?

The hills seemed endless. Just as  you’d crest one and have a bit of a downhill respite, you’d be greeted by another incline shouting, “Oh, yeah? Try this one, you pussy!” At about the two mile point a herd of runners flew by us going the opposite direction. Damn University of Colorado cross country team. I know they love this run, as it was made famous by the CU x-country team in the book “Running with the Buffaloes.” Humbling to say the least watching these guys fly by, effortless.

Here come some of those damn buffaloes. They need to slow the eff down:

 

We trudged on and up.

At mile seven, we hit the Peak to Peak Highway, crossed over and ran another half mile on a rocky dirt road. At the turn around, we had our GUs, stretched and headed back. We both felt pretty strong at this point.

If I haven’t said so already, this road afforded amazing views of the foothills and the Rockies. Wildflowers grew everywhere. Occasionally the route would open up to a high altitude pasture with grazing cows and horses. The air in Colorado is so crisp, cool and bright with no humidity, especially up that high. Kind of like Florida. Or Texas.

Here is where we crossed over the Peak to Peak Highway:

   

Ken runs by a pasture:

 

And up a hill:

Told ya’ it was pretty (not me, the scenery dummy):

I did not have to stop to crap on this run. Miracles never cease to happen. So I did a fake out for you. If only I could poop with shorts on. Well, I can but it’s not pretty.

Here’s where I tell you about my studly husband. He has run several half marathons this year, and is training for another in October. He has never run more than 13.1 miles at a time. Today, he ran the whole flippin’ 15 miles with me. He wants you to know he has his first blister on his tender toe. Ever. Cue the violins. I smell a marathon in his future even if he doesn’t.

Nearing the end, some dude passed us on the last gargantuan hill leading to the car. I picked up the pace and kept a steady 20 feet behind him. He was letting out the most ungodly sounds – like he was either yakking or dumping or both. But, I think it was just an “I’m going up a big hill and I’m tired” GRUNT like none I’d ever heard. Think I’ll try that one with Dean.

Overall Stats:

15 miles
2 hours, 28 minutes
1,650 feet elevation gain
1,650 feet elevation loss
9:44 average pace (okay speedies, you try to run this bitch fast)

I do feel pretty good after the run with the exception of an aching ass. I’m glad we took it kind of slow.

Don’t forget my giveaway! Ends Friday.

Crap at the Track

Okay you East coasters and Midwesterners  in the middle of a heat wave, don’t kill me. I have to admit that this week I’ve been spoiled by very cool running temperatures. My long run on Sunday was 50 degrees and overcast. For all of the complaining I did about feeling exhausted on runs, this cool wave has restored my confidence. Trust me. The heat f&%!#s with you more than you know. Cut yourself some slack.

Week two of marathon training and I’m feeling strong. I am only running four times per week. One long, one tempo or speed/interval, one mid-week longer run, and one short recovery run. Of all the runs I still find speed to test me the most. This week’s was the following (not many intervals due to it being the start of the training cycle):

2 warm up miles
2 x 1600 with 800 recovery jogs
2 miles cool down

The end result was:

Mile 1: 9:03
Mile 2: 9:07
Mile 3: 7:09
Mile 4: 7:11
Mile 5: 9:41
Mile 6: 8:38

I went to the local middle school track. You might recall that last summer while running at this track I had a bathroom emergency and ended up dropping some friends off in the cluster of pine trees by the track. This is the one and only spot within miles to squat. It was a lifesaver. Even if it is my son’s school, I feel I can defile it if I wish. What’s worse? A bit of waste in the trees or messy pants? No one likes a mom with messy pants. Especially a 12 year old.

On Tuesday my stomach was cramping even before the intervals began. I feared the worst, but knew I had those trees to fall back on if needed. While I’m doing some warm up laps, guess who shows up? Mr. City Worker Spraying for Mosquitoes. And guess where he’s spraying? Around the track. In the pine trees. In my outside bathroom.

I panicked. How the hell was I supposed to have a bathroom emergency with Mr. City worker around? I eyed him throughout the whole run, navigating how I could crap if need be. When he left towards the end of my workout I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t end up having to use the trees, but it was nice to know I could if need be. Kind of like how when you’re on an airplane and the captain turns off the seatbelt sign. Even if you don’t have to at that moment, you like to always have the option.

Here’s the thing. In the midst of my second 1600 I found myself thinking how the hell do people run entire races at a 7 or sub 7 pace? It took every ounce of energy I had to just do it twice. I continue to bow down to you speedsters.

Don’t forget my Scape Giveaway!

Longmont Triathlon Race Report

It could’ve been worse. And, it could’ve been better.

I will give you my results first, but only if you promise to read this entire race report. It involves dumps and head wounds and all kinds of mishaps.

525 yd. swim – 12 mile bike – 5K

1:20:54

8th out of 30 in 40-44 age division

32nd woman out of 147

I seriously could not have pushed more in any of the events. However…

• My transition times sucked (this is where my tri-virginity really reared its ugly head)
• My chain fell off about 1/4 mile into the bike – total time sucker
• I went the wrong way when I started the bike, thus adding to transition time (tri-virginity at play again)

I always say this and I’ll say it again. Anyone who does a race has their finish time and then they have the time they should have gotten if ________________ wouldn’t have happened (i.e., If only I hadn’t crapped myself I would have been 4 minutes faster!)

So, in my case, if only I hadn’t taken so much eff’ing time at the transitions (What the hell was I doing? A crossword puzzle?) or if my chain had stayed in place I could've gotten under 1:20.

What’s that they say about hindsight?

Here's how it played out:

6:36 a.m. 1 cup of coffee, one bagel, one huge dump (What a relief! No floaties in the pool)

I got to the start about 3o minutes early to set up my transition area.  I carefully placed a bean bag chair and an end table with after dinner mints beside my bike. I like things to be comfortable and inviting. I then hit my head really hard on the bike rack and it hurt like a mother. I hoped no one saw.

Emma took this beforehand (I think I’m 12):

Okay, my shorts aren’t up that high; it’s just the angle

I got in my heat for the swim and made some friends. They wanted me to go first and I was glad because I thought this would help me push harder and I wouldn’t have to worry about passing anyone. I just had to worry about being passed. As I was swimming I was thinking that I hadn’t eaten in two hours and I was hungry. I didn’t bring any food. For some reason I thought I wouldn’t need it for a 90 minute event and my Accelerade would be enough (tri virgin). I hoped I had something to eat in my bike testicle (that’s what I call the sack under the seat).

Emma found this hairy back at the pool. I’m really glad that was in the water with me. I’m still pulling hairs out of my teeth:

 

Me swimming (You know you’re jealous of my form):

Swim time: 11:07

I got out to my bike and got on my cycling shoes. I put on my running hat instead of my helmet, realized it and changed. Score! I found some GU Chomps in my testicle. I did some Sudoku and I then walked my bike the wrong way until someone told me to turn around.

Swim to bike transition time: 2:33 (I warned you it was bad)

I headed out and up over the first hill. My chain came off. I stopped and fixed it, cussing up a storm. Mother %$#! chain. C$#@ sucking chain! I cruised for three-4 mile loops on the bike. I really pushed it. I only got passed by one girl. She had one of those aerodynamic bars on her bike. If I had one she would have eaten my dust. Not that I’m competitive or anything.

Bike time: 40:26; 17.8 mph average

I came into the transition area (where I apparently like to spend a lot of time), sat down, changed my shoes, put on my running hat, grabbed my Garmin and iPod

Bike to run transition time: 2:10

As I headed up a hill at the start of the run I felt like I was running in place. I was thinking, “I can’t do this shit. Who does this shit?” I looked down and Garmin said I had a 7:20 pace, so I knew my mind was playing tricks and adjusting to coming off of the bike. The run had several hills. I tried to crank it out to make up for lost time (hello, bike chain). I realized my Garmin was showing pace, but not time or distance. Dick! I passed lots of people and stole all of their energy. I got passed only once by some big burly dude. I screamed at him not to take my energy or I’d rack him.  Before I knew it, I was at the finish and saw little Emma and Ken waiting (Ken had finished beforehand in a very strong showing!). Emma ran to the finish with me. Then I collapsed.

Run time: 24:40;  7:58 pace

Right after, when I was lying down, a reporter came up and asked my name. She had taken pictures of Emma running to the finish with me. Hoping it’s in tomorrow’s paper! I’ve always wanted to be famous.

Lots of lessons learned today, but I’m proud of how I did out there. It was hot, and I know I hadn’t trained properly for the bike portion. I don’t know if triathlons are my favorite race event, but this one was a blast despite all the mishaps. As we were walking back to the car, I had that priceless moment one can have with their children when they’re not screaming at them.

Emma: Mom, I’m really proud of you. I never ever thought I would have parents who did these kinds of things!

Now that’s some nine year old wisdom. She must have been wondering in the womb what kind of parents she would have.

On tap for tonight: beer and more beer. It’s a celebration! For finishing the triathlon and for passing my running coach's exam today!!

Even Crappy Runs Rule

Why the crazy ass, maniacal smile? It's been a good day. And the monthly visitor is even in town. As we speak my kids have left on a bike ride without me even having to beg and plead that they stop beating each other up and find something to do. Some kids may do this naturally, i.e., entertain themselves, but mine have always preferred to be within 2" of my physical body, usually touching me in some way.

We always love to bitch about the weather where we are and how it sucks to run in the ___________ (insert your choice of word here: cold, snow, wind, sleet, hurricane, tornado, tsunami). But, be glad you can run. At all. I bring this up a lot because it has been on my mind a lot. I couldn't run for almost three months and it about killed me. During this time, I would have given my left nut to take a crappy run. That's about how much I wanted to run. It took me an injury to just be grateful to be out there at all despite weather conditions and unwanted bodily functions every run's a run to be celebrated.

This morning, for instance, I had the longest run I have had in three months. Five miles. The headwind was atrocious and the route was uphill. But I sincerely loved every second of it. The simple sensation of running. The sound of my feet on the dirt road. The sunshine on my back. The subtle taste of another marathon in my future. It felt like hope.

Today is Winter Solstice and also the first day of winter. I love this day. It means we are emerging out of the darkness. Our days will become longer, our nights shorter. This feels like hope too. Check out my latest Examiner article about this very fact and how it applies to us runners.

Another reason I'm smiling? Ken and I get to drop the kids with my parents for the night. We'll be heading to Boulder for some merriment and good food at Brasserie Ten Ten (I'm going for the muscles and frites). Almost 15 years of marriage and I still love a good date with my charming, funny and adorable husband.

One last note. If you haven't seen The Hangover and you want a feel good family movie an adventure in extreme crudeness, go get it at the Redbox.

Yo Mama's So Dumb

Man, you guys are BQ'ing all over the place. Congrats to Mindful Living and Denise for showing us how it's done!

I, on the other hand, did not BQ this weekend. I had better things to do like watching Glee on TiVo and getting nearly frostbitten and hypothermic on a Sunday morning bike ride in the Colorado mountains.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Driving to the base of Left Hand Canyon and biking the 8 miles and 1,800 feet up to the small mountain town of Jamestown, CO. It also seemed like a good idea to go by myself, to put on only minimally warm gloves and layers and to not double check that my Garmin was charged. It seemed like a good idea to do these things when I have zero body fat and a history of poor circulation and Raynaud's Syndrome (Condition resulting in a particular series of discolorations of the fingers and/or the toes after exposure to changes in temperature -cold or hot - or emotional events).

Here is part of the road on a nice day in the summer with no snow:

I set out. It is much colder than I thought. There was no sun. Even if the sun was out, there is no sun in the canyon. There was snow on the ground. The river running alongside the road was frozen. I realized my Garmin was dead. I realized my bike computer wasn't working. I had no cell service. I felt chilly, but sure that I would warm up as I started climbing. And warm up I did. I felt phenomenal. No one else was out. The scenery was beautiful. There were wild pheasants walking around. It was still and quiet with just my breathing and the sound of my bike tires on the road.

I saw one guy riding down the canyon in the opposite direction. He had a scarf wrapped around his entire face. I was so warmed up by that time that I thought, "What's up with that guy. It's not that cold. Fool." (Cue foreshadow).

I continued up. The going was steep. I got to points where the road was covered in snow and where there were so many broken pieces of rock on the road that had fallen down the cliffs that I had to dodge around them. Finally, I see the sign for Jamestown: 6,929 ft. I've made it, now time for the payoff; the quick 8 miles downhill back to the warm car.

The minute I turned around and started to head down I started cussin'. The icy wind coming at me was bitterly and insanely cold. My toes and fingers immediately started to go numb (remember the Raynaud's?) but were also incredibly painful at the same time. Typically eight miles downhill on a bike goes by in a flash, but this felt in slow motion as my body was shaking from the cold and my extremities were in so much pain. It sucked. Once I got back to the car I cranked the heat, but when I got home my temp was 95 degrees. It took me at least 45 minutes in the hot shower to stop shaking and for my feet to return to their normal color.

I am just a dumb ass. Feel free to berate me and tell me I deserve what I got. Send me any second hand winter cycling gear you may have. Give me instructions on how to carry a flint with me and start a fire so I could thaw my hands and feet. Remind me that there are things called hand and foot warmers that you can buy for these such occasions. Feel free to call my kids and tell them theses jokes:

Yo mama’s so dumb she stole a free sample

Yo mama’s so dumb she stayed up all night studying for her blood test

You see, I am not bright enough to cycle. That is why I need to heal so I can run again.

The kids and I went to see the movie the Blindside after I thawed. I thought it was a lovely and touching story of giving and compassion. The only thing my son remembers from the movie is when Sandra Bullock yells to the guy behind her at the football game, "Hey crotch mouth!" I'm glad he got so much out of it.

Drinking: Yogi Detox Tea

What I should be doing instead of blogging: Writing a home study report for work

Where's Fed Ex?

My new Garmin should come today. I am counting down the hours. Fedex: usually around 4:37 p.m.

My son looked at the pictures on amazon.com of the watch. He laughed his ass off. It looks pretty ridiculous on the wrist (so big) but I don't care. I can't wait. I would have loved to have it on my trail run the other day 'cause I got lost a few times and wanted to know my actual mileage. And like I said before, if I fell or got eaten by a mountain lion, I was hoping my link to the sky and the satellite (however that works) would save me. Just see Mall Cop if you don't believe me.


I am stir crazy this week. The weather in CO has been absolute perfection for running. I, however, have been stuck inside with a sick child. I worked out to a DVD yesterday (Jillian's Shred - she just yelled at me the whole time, but good workout). Today I am bound and determined to get out in the sunshine. The kids have a "late start" day today (they don't start until 10:30 a.m. due to teacher planning or partying or something). Em is still sick but I think Sam can hold the fort down for an hour while I run. I'm sure an 11 year old could do the Heimlich if necessary.

Two subjects I've had on my mind: a friend of mine who is training for a marathon said she has gained four pounds. Why is it that in intense running training you sometimes gain weight? I know it is muscle, but you are also burning a tremendous amount of calories, so what the hell? I'm luckily and naturally thin (don't hate me - I have really small boobs and am not especially pretty), so I don't run to lose weight, but just curious. Second issue: I was part of Team in Training but now that is over and I find myself without a team, a coach or a group to run with. How do you find such a thing??

Input..input..please comment...