On the trail with Scott Jurek {Fort Wayne Track Club banquet recap}

Standing on the stage, Scott Jurek was hardly recognizable. The ultramarathoner, who set the Appalachian Trail record last summer, had traded his Brooks shorts and shoes for a button-down shirt, tie and sport coat. The thin, scruffy face that was photographed in Maine was clean shaven and a bit fuller.

But the curly hair and affable smile gave him away.

Jurek was the keynote speaker at the Fort Wayne Track Club banquet on Sunday night, sharing stories from his life and time on the AT, as well as a guide for running success.

It's the fifth year that I've attended the banquet, and I am continually blown away by the caliber of the speakers the club brings in. {2012: Shalane Flanagan; 2013: Dave Wottle; 2014: Bart Yasso; 2015: Lauren Fleshman} Moreover, the club's timing is seemingly impeccable. We heard from Shalane just after she qualified for the Olympic marathon team and this year, we heard from Jurek just after he set the trail record. When the club was booking the speakers, it had no way of anticipating the successes the runners would have before the banquet.

The address began with a featurette about Jurek's time on the AT. If you read any of the criticism about his attempt, you might have heard about a camera crew following him. The crew was part of a larger documentary project, of which he will be a small part. They were with him for about three weeks of his 46 days. Read: It was not "his" crew/entourage.

Anyway, this video ... OMG. I have said it before and I'll say it again: Consuming accounts and information about time on the AT and Pacific Coast Trail goad me. They make me want to abandon my life and take in the trails. To explore. To discover. To live.

And the video was no different. However, I found myself surprised – almost embarrassingly so – by the hardship of life on the trail. There was a shot where Jurek took off during a torrential rain, the wind blowing with such force that the trees seemed to bend. His feet were soaked but calloused and blistered. He was thin and frail looking, his stride less of a run and more of a hobble.

There was such beauty, though. A vibrant green canopy of trees, single-track dirt trails, refreshing creek waters. There was victory and pleasure in the challenge. When I asked him later in the Q&A if he felt like he got to enjoy the breathtaking beauty because of his pace (about 50 miles a day), he said the joy came in pushing himself and the experience.

And push himself he does.

The greater part of Jurek's address was spent talking about he is able to do it – and how we can do it. Sure, we're not all going to win Western States or run Badwater but we can choose goals that are a bit scary. We can work hard. We can be present, focusing on the things that we are doing. We can create a world around us that is bigger than just running.

We can stop saying never.

Because, as Jurek said, "There's a lot of 'nevers' that dot my career."

He not only did the things he said he would never do but he excelled, and we have that in us, too.

Other highlights:

• The track club speaker is brought in for a whole weekend of events, from honoring the top high school runners to meet and greets at the local running stores. In past years, the speaker has run with members of the board and other influentials in the running community. This year, though, the run was opened up to the community.

About 75 folks signed up, and Scott ran with every single person. No joke. He started at the front and worked his way back along the 3.4-mile cross country course. Even when he was finished, he ran in with some of the people who had not yet finished.

He was so kind about it, chatting with everyone. And when I tried to be sly about taking a selfie, he caught me and then told me to take it again so he could smile.

• There was a new venue for the banquet, and the served dinner was replaced with a buffet. I may or may not have given an eye roll to that but was pleasantly surprised. There was a great house salad with dried cherries and nuts, green beans, roasted potatoes and barbecue chicken. The organizers even arranged to have lentil burgers made using Scott Jurek's recipe. And, let me tell you – amazing. I'll be making them again soon.

• Hanging out with my friends. I signed up for the banquet on my own, not thinking to ask anyone whether they were going. I didn't know what table I would be at or with whom I'd sit. Within minutes of walking in, I had seen old friends and familiar faces and could have sat a number of places. I don't say that to be like, "OMG, I'm so popular" but to show that the running group here is so welcoming.

If I take anything away from the banquet, it is that Fort Wayne is truly lucky to have such a community, and I'm blessed to be a part of it.

Two Races, One Weekend

You know what happens when you are mad at your husband. You turn on your computer. You log onto the Internet. You bust out the credit card – his credit card. And you use it.

To register for a race. Or two. Or three.

Or maybe that's just me.

I'm not even sure what I was mad at Mark for that day (I was probably just tired and irrational) but when I saw that some of my fellow run clubbers had signed up to participate in the fifth of a night run series, I decided that it was time I stopped worrying about how the boys would do and start getting social. So I clicked register.

A few hours later, I saw an ad for the track clubs' annual turkey trot, which is on a Saturday. (There is also a Thanksgiving Day race hosted by a race company but we're out of town.) I thought some of my other friends might do that so I clicked register. Again.

And then I didn't say anything. Until Monday, when I realized that the race were that week and a mere 13 hours apart.

Oops.

Double oops because I had nothing to be mad about anymore and I had my wits about me, realizing that it was a bit selfish of me to do what I did. But, because Mark is awesome 97 percent of the time, he didn't care and might have been a wee bit supportive. It's moments like those when I hate how bitchy I can be.

Photo credit: Team NeighborLink

Race One: Team NeighborLink Night Moves Race Series, #5

The mission of Team Neighborlink is to "use athletics to raise awareness and funds to improve the lives of vulnerable homeowners and transform neighborhoods." The mission of the Night Moves race series to be a complete hipster by running at night, in cool areas and finishing with beer as you order from a food truck. Beards are optional.

OK. Maybe I'm being  a bit flip but they were a whole lot of hipster beards and a food truck and beer.

Anyway ...

This night's 4-mile run was raising money to help by Robert a furnace. Robert is one of those vulnerable home owners the group looks to help, and he had been without heat since early 2015. He spent much of last winter in the cold. Combined with previously raised money, $700 from Friday's event was going to the heating system that will be installed next weekend. For all the races we do for charity, I thought it was totes rad that I knew exactly where the money was going and it was in my community.

The race started at 9 p.m. at a very hip(ster) art gallery about a mile from my house. I decided to run there as a warm up and hoped a friend would take me home.

My mission for the night was to have fun. So when Cynthia asked me if I wanted to run with her at a relaxed pace, I said yes. When a volunteer asked me if I wanted to tackle the tree obstacle, I said yes and headed into the woods. When I was offered a beer at the end, I said no ... but I did accept a Stella Artois cider.

The event was a total blast, and I'm hoping the group continues the series into the winter. It's a great way to be social with a conscience.

Race Two: Fort Wayne Track Club Turkey Trot

It was the 20th year for the race, which is advertised as a 5K on "scenic, flat trails" at a county park. I've run the trails a couple times and though scenic, I wouldn't call them flat. Then again, I'm not trying to get people to sign up for event.

Before any race, Mark will ask me if I'm going for time or a PR or just having fun. When he asked me Saturday morning, I didn't know what to tell him. I had put in a hard effort on Thursday and ran the night race Friday. I had no idea what kind of speed, if any, was left in my legs. Factor in trails and the whole race could be a crapshoot.

The race got off to a brisk start as we navigated the roads of the park before landing on trail. From the beginning, it felt like a challenge. My breathing was labored, and I couldn't keep up with people with whom I normally can.

During the first mile, which seemed unusually long, I wavered between slowing down to enjoy the views, pushing forward and even just walking. "Why are 5Ks so hard?" I thought. I have felt better during runs four times the length.

"You don't run long runs at an 8:47 pace," I scolded myself as I reached the first mile marker and saw the split.

The temptation to slam on the brake was real when I saw the display on my Soleus. I was beginning to switch gears when a boy, who turned out to be 8 years old, came up on my left and pulled ahead. There is part of me that knows I shouldn't care who passes me but it's a bit demoralizing if they haven't yet sprouted a chin hair (and I have three because I can't find my tweezers).

I dug in a little on a hill and passed him. He wasn't happy with that so he dug in and passed me. Repeat times 500 for a good mile and a half when I was finally able to successfully pass him.

I tried to catch a few others in the last half mile in the event they were in my age group but I didn't have anything left. At 27:46, I was done. Happily done.

There was an awesome assortment of refreshments – cookies, doughnut holes, fruit, coffee – at the nature center. The boys had come with (Miles running the 15,000 centimeter dash) and we enjoyed a few things before heading off. I don't like to leave before awards*, just as a courtesy, but it was ridiculously crowded and, after 13 hours, I needed to put on my mom hat again.

I would be remiss if I didn't give a big thanks to Mark for not getting mad at me and supporting me even when I act like a big baby. I promise I'll be nicer and more rational when Si starts sleeping through the night.

*I ended up 6/17 in my age group. I'll move up next year, and I'm not looking forward to it. The older you get, the more competitive.

Runners Are The Best {Notes from the Weekend}

They say those who can't do teach. If that's the case, those who can't run (a long distance) volunteer.

And volunteer I did. I was at the second aid station, which runners passed around miles 5 and 7. I filled cups with water and sports drinks. I lined them up on tables. I handed them out with amazing form. Tip: Hold the cup in the palm of your hand with as little pressure as you can. It allows runners to grab the top and keep moving.

It was a total PR.

I'd like to think I volunteer at races semi-regularly but my time on the course at the 35th annual Nutri-Run 20K was my first time manning an aid station at a road race. I have been at aid stations for trail runs but there, people stop and chat. These folks, who were in it for track club points, weren't in it to be social.

OK. Maybe some were.

My buddy Joe gave me a hug in passing, quite literally. He had people to catch and catch them he did. A gal from the run group, who had run 10 miles before the race (gotta love marathon training), stopped to stretch. And vent. Maybe. One of the male masters who frequently earns track club Ironman status (completing all track club points in a year) asked me for a push.

Sore subject, buddy. Sore. Subject.

Even still, it was a ton of fun. I got to hang out with some awesome ladies, cheer on my favorite people ...

and not run 12.4 miles on country roads in blustery conditions. It might have been nicer than last year but this race is never easy.

But the best part? We all went out to lunch after where the running group gals hosted a sprinkle, if you will. Baby boy got some much cute clothes and decor fitting with the dinosaur theme of his room, books, diapers, wipes and pacis. The clubbers were also thoughtful enough to consider Miles, who got books and super hero toys.

And me? Well, I'm spoiled – a pedicure, wine and champagne.

Proving runners are the best people ever.

How was your weekend?

Meeting Lauren Fleshman + Banquet Tidbits

"Don't let others define your success."

If there was one take away from Lauren Fleshman's presentation at the Fort Wayne Track Club banquet, it was that.

For her, a professional runner of more than 10 years, it has been paramount to create her own path, one that will allow her to be the best version of herself – not only as an athlete but as a person. The harder she tried to live by the rules of the industry, the ones she was told were required to be successful, the more she was unhappy. Her world was too small. Too limited. She needed something bigger. Something more. And when she chose to open herself up to the idea and expand her horizons, she found not just joy but success.

The presentation was not about Oiselle or Nike, the USATF or athlete rights. She spoke about herself and what it took to find her place, experiencing the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. As a runner, as a mom, as a fan girl – it was captivating to hear. From social media and her pieces for Runner's World, Ask Lauren and Oiselle's blog, I thought she was refreshing, honest and, well, totally rad. I liked Lauren Fleshman, as a representative of the industry. But I didn't know why I liked her as a runner or even why I should.

"The person that's last place always has a story."

And, now, I know – but not for the list of accomplishments that were on the banquet program. It was that she shared she came in last in the finals of the 2012 Olympic Trials for the 5K. It's this emotional video of an interview taken after she qualified for said finals. It's that she still has hope, she still has the dream of going to the Olympics. Eyes set on 2016. It's that she's been injured and remained driven during recovery. It's that she tried to run at times and couldn't. It's that she had the courage to believe and she did.

I came away from the banquet with new-found respect, admiration and kinship. OK, so the last part's a stretch – it's not like we're BFFs now – but she totes showed the most relatable picture (to me) in the beginning of her presentation: She was at a triathlon, cheering on husband Jesse Thomas, with son Jude in a carrier on her back. Jesse was running, Lauren was enthusiastic and Jude was screaming. (See it HERE; I don't feel like stealing.)

It sort of reminds me of that photo post-Veterans Marathon when I'm sweaty and exhausted, Kasey is beaming and Miles has a bloody lip.

And now, as Lauren looks forward, she insists it's not about the times. It's not about what she's done or could have done. It's where she's going and she's moving forward.

"Honor the narrative of your running."

But should I honor my inability to take a serious photo, that is the question?

Other banquet highlights:

• Lauren noticing my fan girl nerdiness in wearing the Fleshman Flyer shirt. I think I was a bit self effacing rather than gracious but 'tis my style. 
• Finally getting my hands on a "Believe" journal and having her sign it. I think I'm going to save it for my post-baby comeback.
• Celebrating and honoring the sport of running, what it has done for me and how it has expanded my world. 

Triple threat: Race recap

The call it the Fanny Freezer. For the first track club race of the year, it's an appropriate name as it's pretty much guaranteed that your backside will be on the chilly side during February in Indiana.

And, I'm glad (??) to report, that the race did live up to it's name. I had a frozen fanny ... and my fastest 5K in three years and I placed third in my age group. Official finish time (gun start, chip finish): 26:58.

Three "runs": Being the multitasker I am ... and having a running partner training for the L.A. Marathon, we opted to turn the race into a long run with some faster miles in between. We ran the course backward to warm up, did the race and did a long cool down of nearly 4 miles. In addition, I wanted the 5K to be at tempo pace so that I could cross that off the calendar as well.

Three things about the course: It was two loops at a local park with a decent-for-Indiana hill to start and a downhill at the end. • This year, the track club got sassy and reversed the course, which I thought was much better. •  The first part of the course, with the uphill, is a road and as such was fairly slushy. The middle section was snowy but passable, and I found it the easiest to hold a difficult pace. I thought I'd be able to open up on the downhill but it was a layer of ice with snow on top and was quite slick.

Three things about my race: My compatriots and I had a delicious warmup on the course, and we agreed that the 10-minute miles just felt good. So good, in fact, that I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to kick it up to tempo pace - especially with the conditions. • I was very thankful that despite feeling like I was moving at light speed yet not going anywhere (because that makes sense), I was hitting the goal. • The first loop was manageable but, when greeted with an incline for the second time, it became much more challenging. I really had to dig to keep the pace under 9 minutes. I had to dig more when I knew I'd be close to a sub-27 finish.

Three randoms from the race: During the second loop, when I felt like crap, a tween boy told me, "Nice job." He was so sweet, and I very much needed to hear it at that moment. And then I passed him. • I tried to keep picking it up as I saw a curly pony tail ahead, and I thought it was a speedier girl who aged up into my group. I was right about who it was but I didn't managed to catch her. She ended up winning 30-34, 19 seconds ahead of me. • I felt like this race was the first time where I really belonged. I am an official member of the track club, there were lots of familiar faces and I just felt invested in the community.

Big, showy races are great but there's something about being able to smack someone's butt as you pass and feel good doing it.

Life on the run: An evening with Bart Yasso

Never limit where running can take you - mentally, physically, geographically.

The words, mantra, of Bart Yasso apply to everyone and their journeys but as he signed my copy of "My Life on the Run," I couldn't help as if it was something that I - I - needed to here on that day, in that moment. I just finished week one of training for the Athens half, got connected with someone who might lead me to another cool race opportunity and am looking toward some fall events as life spins its wily head.

I can't change things but I don't have to let them limit me either, ya know.

Yasso was the keynote speaker at the Fort Wayne Track Club banquet, and the chief running officer of Runner's World magazine spent the weekend here - inspiring us, learning about us and being generally nice, warm and enthusiastic. He spent part of Saturday just hanging out at Three Rivers Running Company, my running store, and later talked with high school kids. He took photos and signed books, gave hugs and made us laugh.

All the while, he was reminding us not to limit our running and where it will lead.

For him, it has taken him to East Africa, India, the top of the world (and the bottom). He has ran races in Death Valley in some of the toughest environmental conditions and a race in Colorado with a burro named Taco Bell that might have proven to be just as tough. There was the moment, surrounded by the picturesque parts of the world - Antarctica, when he discovered that penguin poo is among the most foul on the planet. It was not to be outdone by the time he learned he would speak at a spaghetti dinner and run a 5K in the buff. Thank goodness, it wasn't in the same place.

A lot of this is in his book, "My Life on the Run," which I've been manically reading since I got it Wednesday. It's well written and engaging and sort of makes you want to max out your credit card to do all the races.

One of the other things, just as important as his adventures, was the importance of the community. The group of runners, what it means in an area, to an event, to the world. He spoke of what it meant to be at the 2013 Boston Marathon and what he expects it to be. He shared what running means to others, around the world, and the upcoming "Finding Strong" movie that Runner's World and Saucony produced.

He said it's those stories - and our stories - that makes his job so rewarding and inspiring. Inspiring him. What a thought.

This year was my third time attending the banquet with my good pal Chris, and I think Yasso was by far the most engaging and entertaining speaker (past years have included Shalane Flanagan and Dave Wottle). I could probably just listen to talk to him for days - and it's quite possible since the winter weather here is delaying his return to Pennsylvania.

Bart, if you are reading this ... if you need lunch .... well, you know ... just kidding ... maybe.

Golden girl

They love me. They really love me!

Or they at least like me enough not to call me out for being in an age group that, we'll say, is busy - too busy to run in a lot of points races.

On Sunday, the Fort Wayne Track Club held it's annual banquet and my participation (and placement) in three races last year earned me first place in my age group for the points race series during the ceremonies.  There are more than a dozen races in the series and there were 18 members who managed to complete them all. Some of the age groups had winners with 1,400 points. (For reference, I had 230). But I got the plaque all the same.

And the cake.

In addition to the awards, there was also a half marathon clinic, delicious dinner - I opted for beef and, yes, I ate the rich chocolate piece of heaven - and a keynote speaker in 1972 Olympic Gold Medal winner Dave Wottle.

Last year, the track club worked its tail off to lure Shalane Flanagan to our dinner, and I have to admit that my heart sunk just a tiny bit that someone as fresh off competition wouldn't be speaking. How else would I become besties with Lauren Fleshman? (Seriously, call me Lauren.) My feelings changed, though, once I heard that Wottle was a BGSU alumni like me ... and when I saw his stunning 800 meter final that garnered him the Gold medal.

Watch it. It's seriously amazing.

Wottle interwove stories of that day into what turned out to be an engaging, inspiring speech (sshh: it was much better than Shalane's talk last year). He said there were three things that were key to his Olympic success.

Concentration. Confidence. Competitive spirit.

Concentration. Wottle said that during the 1 minute, 45 seconds he was running, he was focused on nothing else but the finish line. He didn't see the crowds. He didn't hear their roars. Not only that but in training, he concentrated on that goal of an Olympic medal. Often times as he ran through Bowling Green, he would visualize the race. And he wasn't winning. He was coming from behind and teaching himself how to maneuver in situations that might fluster other athletes.

Confidence. It was those visualizations helped give him the confidence that he needed to win. A runner who was 20 meters behind in the first 200 meters of an 800-meter event might have worried himself out of the race but Wottle said his training scenarios  showed him that he could come from behind and finish ahead.

Competitive spirit. Yeah, this pretty much doesn't need explanation. Mostly because I was too busy listening and a whole lot not busy taking notes on my iPhone. But let's just say he said you needed a competitor's spirit - not just to beat someone but to better yourself. Sound good?

Of all the things he said, what stuck with me most was what he said about his pre-race ritual. Yes, there was the golf cap and the silence but there was also a prayer. Though I'm not a particularly spiritual person, his words to God really spoke to me.

Allow me to try my best, do my best and accept whatever outcome.

Words to run by. Words to live by.

'Just' a 10K

Let's cut to the chase: It's Saturday night, and I'm watching "Pocahontas" on Netflix.

Wait. Wrong chase.

This afternoon, I ran a 10K and not only did I PR the heck out of that shtuff but I set my first post-baby PR.

Booyah! Official finish time: 52:40.2. PR's aren't pretty but they sure are beautiful.

The JP Jones Just Plain 10K is the final points race for the Fort Wayne Track Club, and it lives up to its name as just a plain 10K. The course is (nearly) three loops of my neighborhood park, with a single, unadvertised aid station and no awards. And for a hefty entry fee of $3 for track club members, you got hot soup, homemade cookies and a honey bear.

Mark and I have been planning to run this race for sometime as a way to keep us motivated during the holidays and as the weather cooled. Mark had initially wanted to run the heck out of the race but had stubbed and badly bruised his fourth toe earlier in the week. He so chivalrously decided to pace me to a PR. Except I wasn't so sure I could PR. I had looked it up, and the last (and fastest) 10K I did was 53:06 (8:36 pace) on Thanksgiving 2010 when I was seven weeks pregnant. I feel like I don't have the base I used to and I'm not doing speedwork consistently so I hoped to finish in under 55.

As the course was three loops, my goal was to go out at a respectable pace and bring it in each loop so that I could finish strong and happy. Yeah. About that. Let's just say those first two miles were the fastest, and the fifth was more than 30 seconds slower.

The course began on the east side of the golf course and at the bottom of a hill. Mean. Just mean.

Loop 1: We started out at a quick pace after cresting the hill and were moving along at what I thought was a comfortably hard tempo pace. The first mile flew by as we passed a number of people, including a spirited woman who wore jingle bells on her shoes. The second mile was even quicker but I knew that we/Mark/I was holding a pace that was no longer comfortably hard. It was just hard.

Loop 2: I knew this was going to be the hardest of the loops. The crowd had thinned out and though the sun was beginning to peak out, the wind was once again at our face. I heard footsteps behind us, and it turned out to be a fellow fitness instructor, who had also taught this morning. We chatted for a minute or so as she admitted to drafting off Mark, and she continued on strong. Once we turned toward the west side of the golf course and the sun shone in full glory, Mark and I both realized that we had dressed too warmly. In an impressive move, Mark managed to remove his middle layer (of 3) mid-stride.

Loop 3: Mark made a stop at the car, which was parked 10 or 20 feet from the course, to drop off his sweater and my phone. And then he decided to drop me. Not in a mean way, I promise. I had given him the option during the second loop to move on as my pace began to slow. The fifth mile, for which I was alone about 2/3, I decided to conserve and slow down. I wanted to be able to push at the end and not have my Subway lunch revisit me. It felt dreadful. Not just going slow but running. I was reaching the point that inevitably comes in any race or hard effort where you just want to say fig it and jog lightly when I was faced with a steep hill coming up from the river to the main trail. I powered up and, as I sighed with relief at the top, I heard someone behind me. I decided that it was time to push and hold off the guy for as long as I could. I checked my watch and with some poorly calculated math, I realized a PR was possible and it gave me even more energy to hold on.

My motivator eventually passed me in the last third of a mile, maybe, just as the finish line was in sight. I kept going and soon began to hear the chants of "Kim" from my gracious husband. The red, glaring numbers on the clock began with a 52. All I had to do was gun it and I would be a PR queen.

I nearly puked at the finish - goodness, I'm classy - and I had to walk a bit before I could think of water much less any of the delicious treats they had. And, yes, I had a cookie. Healthy Holiday Challenge be damned. I needed something and I couldn't stomach hot vegetable soup just yet.

By the way, my lovely husband finished with a 49-something - meaning he dropped a full minute per mile off his pace that last loop. And that's with running 3 miles a few times week. He's incredible. In the I want to kick you in the throat sort of way.

Almost.

Because he placed eighth in his age group and I earned second. Boo-friggin-yah.