A Monumental Experience

Have you entered my giveaway for a Meijer and P&G prize pack? You should. Go do it.

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"Are you going to go watch them?" Mark asked. "Do you want to go down?

I looked at Mark and shrugged.

"I thought about it but, you know ..."

"You should," he said. "You trained with them. You ran the miles. You should celebrate the race with them."

 

And so I did. Well, we did.

On Saturday, we loaded up the kids and headed down to Indianapolis (a two-hour drive from Fort Wayne) to cheer on my friends running the Monumental Marathon. I had hoped to make some awesome signs and toss Nuun packets at fellow runners but after a long week*, we settled on smiles and lots of enthusiasm.

I decided, after looking at the course map, that we would go to the half point, around Broad Ripple, and then head to the Indianapolis Museum of Art, around 18 or 19. The locations, according to a drive and cheer map, were easy to reach via car, and it also allowed us to leave fairly late – 7 a.m. But, more importantly, we were able to see them at points in the marathon where the excitement has worn off and things can start to hurt.

But, call me a proud mama, but I have to say it: my girls looked good out there. G-O-O-D. If they were hurting, they didn't show it.

Both times, Karen came over to kiss the baby and say hi, looking as if she were just on a regular training run. But that's Karen. She makes running look fun and effortless. Also, she's a gazelle. And kissing Si makes you bounce because he's that cute.

And, each time, it made my heart so happy that I could share the experience with them. We ran against the wind, in the early morning hours, around floods and in the heat. Those miles were for that day.

And that day. Ah. I do have to say that they had the most perfect day for a marathon. The high was in the mid-50s and the sky was clear. Indianapolis is just far enough south that there were still leaves on the trees. The spots where we were at on the course, too, were gorgeous and interesting. I couldn't have been happier for them, especially as earlier in the week they were anticipating high winds and rain.

I've spectated a few races and, on occasion will head out to big group training runs, to pass out candy and cheer on my friends. Nothing, though, compared to this. There's just something so awesome about the marathon and the running community surrounding that made me giddy. It was like I had a runner's high without even jogging a step.

It was a feeling that I couldn't shake all day on Saturday. One I still can't shake. One that says run a marathon.

Run MONUMENTAL*.

Just because – my favorite photo from the day

* Note: I might have also had too many martinis on Friday night and was not able to form a catchy phrase much less write one on posterboard.

*I've been fairly firm that I wouldn't run a marathon next year as that's a huge commitment for not just me but my family. However, I got the bug and so I'm no longer ruling one out but I'm not registering either. Like a fine wine, these things need some air.

On the line {fall racing plans}

There are three things that you should know about me: I love coffee, I love running and I can't refuse a good deal.

And it was two of those and a lack of the other that I found myself doing something that I said I wouldn't: Registering for a half marathon.

I could go into a verbose explanation of the situation but here's what you need to know: I hadn't had enough coffee that day. It was a free half marathon (well, $1.60 with fees) on a weekend I had planned to run 10 miles, and there's not a whole lot of difference between running 10 and running 13. I love competition and securing a free spot was like a race in itself. Muncie is less than an hour and a half from me but I have only been once. Plus, I get a medal and a glass and the only glasses we have at our house have either come from Nuun or a race. #sadbuttrue

When I got the deal, I didn't think much beyond that ... except how to sell it to Mark. But he knows me and those three things so he's usually fairly amenable.

There was just one thing I should have thought of: The race is the cream filling on my Oreo of September racing.

Sept. 12: The Color Run in South Bend

Sept. 19: Muncie Mini Marathon

Sept. 26: Fort4Fitness Double Play

It's going to be fun, for sure, but I'd be lying if I wasn't kicking myself a bit for filling up my schedule like this. There will be two weekends of travel, three Saturday mornings away from the boys with two of them tied to the pump and a whole lot of solo parenting for Mark.

Thankfully, I have racked up some major brownie points to "earn" that other fall race I'm doing – the Bourbon Chase. Oh, and I have one of the most supportive husbands ever. I couldn't do it without him.

Everyone with me: Awww.

I did come up with a brilliant idea to soften the blow of this whole, "Hey! I signed up for a half marathon without telling you" thing plus racing all of September. I invited my in-laws to travel with us and the race will become a small part of a family weekend. After I cross the finish line, we'll head south to Indianapolis to eat lunch and go to the Children's Museum.

Bonus: I'll make the boys – all of them – really happy by suggesting we grab Giordano's (Chicago style pizza) on the way to the museum. Not that I would want cheesy, delicious pizza after doing a half. Nope. Not at all.

Anyone else gearing up for a busy fall of racing?

The First Race Back: Girls on the Run 5K Recap

"We missed you yesterday!!! Are you doing Girls on the Run?"

Joe couldn't possibly have been texting me. Me, the girl who was 7 weeks post-partum and barely running 3 miles. Of course, I was the girl who missed the Memorial Day run because of a fussy baby (and mama) meltdown. The run just happened to be "yesterday."

D'oh.

I told him no. I hadn't planned on returning tot he starting line so soon after Silas but, more pressing, I had both boys on Saturday as Mark was chaperoning a class trip to Cedar Point. I have a BOB Ironman but it's a single, and I plan on keeping it that way.

But that Joe. He told me his daughter, who just finished her freshman year, could entertain Miles, freeing me up to push Silas.

So it was. I was going to run the weekend 5K.

Pre-race: I don't normally include these details because they are usually rather boring and banal but I was rather proud of my ability to physically get to the race. I had to leave by 7:45 a.m. to get to the start, ensuring enough time to hook up with Joe and top off Si if necessary. On Friday night, I laid out two sets of clothes for everyone (we were going to a friend's after) and packed a lunch box of snacks for Miles. I pumped up the tires on the BOB and put it in my hatchback. On Saturday, Silas woke up just after 6 a.m., and he actually had a good feeding. Happy, I put him in the swing and got breakfast for Miles and me. Silas still chill in the swing, I got everyone dressed and bags in the car. The clock read 7:10. Damn. We were rocking. I picked up Si and tried to nurse him a bit more before heading out the door at 7:30. Fifteen minutes ahead of schedule! How does that even happen with two kids and one adult?!?

#humblebrag over

The race: I was in a sea of pink and green, tiny legs and full hearts. Ponytails full of glitter sparkled in the morning sun and strips of tulle bounced as the excitement built. The race, after all, was really for the girls who spent the spring semester of school preparing for this day.

As for me, I had spent zero time preparing. I had only been running for two weeks and though I'd ran the distance, the outings were not without convenient breaks for traffic and water. My only official goal was to go out and have fun, garnering a time to use as a baseline to see how I improve over the summer. On a dream day, if someone had asked, I thought it would be rad to squeak under 30.

But it wasn't a dream day. And that's OK.

It was hot and humid, with the temperature nearing 70 at 8:30 a.m. The cloudless sky was a relief with rain dominating the forecast but it freed the sun, allowing it to be unrelenting.

I had seeded myself mid-pack, not wanting to get caught up with my friends who had more ambitious goals. The announcer counted down and with a "1 and Go" we were off, a wave of cheers coming from the crowd. The pack began slow and though it would have nice to bolt from the line, I appreciated the more comfortable pace, especially since I was pushing the stroller (with a sleeping Silas! Hooray!), which offers about 50 pounds of resistance.

I managed to find some space by the first mile and pick up the pace but I was by no means flying. The heat was taking its toll –  the sweat had began to drip within the first half mile and pour by the first. When the water stop came at the halfway point, I was happy to stop and walk through. I grabbed a cup and then a second.

After the water stop, we headed into a neighborhood and twisted and turned through the maze of streets. I tried my best to run tangents but maneuvering the BOB, which has a fixed front wheel, proved difficult. But it was fine. Why whine about that when I was running a race and Silas was still sleeping?

Note: Later, Joe asked how I managed to get Si to sleep through 3.1 miles. I have no idea. Magic milk or dark magic? All I can say is someone was looking out for me, especially when I factored in his poor sleeping that week.

One of the fun parts about this race was listening to the run buddies and girls. There was so much encouragement and positive talk that I couldn't help but smile and try my best. One of the girls said that when she gets tired, she just tells herself one foot at a time. You just put one in front of the other.

Amen, sister.

So as I grew more tired at the mile 2 marker (a purple "2" helium balloon), I just made it my mission to put one foot in front of the other. Relentless forward motion, y'all.

As I rounded toward the finish, I tried to pick it up. After all, I used to have a kick. A good one.

Oh, how times have changed ... temporarily.

I was buoyed to see the clock read 31 minutes as I headed toward the balloon arch. I had ran without a watch as my Garmin has been a POS, not finding satellites, and had no idea what my pace had been. I just knew it felt slow.

As I crossed the timing mats, I felt tired. Done. But there were cheers and words of encouragement as I crossed the timing mats. Miles was there with his new friend, as was Joe who finished fifth overall. A Girls on the Run coach, whom I had passed and then passed me, told me I was her mother runner hero.

And I couldn't help but feel 100 percent ecstatic.

Amid sleepless nights and marathon nursing sessions, I had 31 minutes where I rejoined my community and took back myself.

Fall Racing: Whats, Wheres and Hopes

The hay is in the barn, as they say. Or, as I like to say, thank grilled cheesus, I don't have to cry any more when I look at my training schedule.

This weekend, I completed my last double digit run and my longest goal pace workout - 6.2 miles - as I look toward the Fort4Fitness half marathon. The race is on Sept. 27 and is the big to-do here in Fort Wayne. The festival of events (4-mile, 10K, half marathon and kids and seniors marathons) attracts about 10,000 participants.

As the year's big event, it is always a lot of fun. Most of the run group is there, as are the running store employees, and the atmosphere is just insane. For me, it's just such a special race because the half course is the only place I've broken 2 hours (2010 and 2013), and it was my first race after having Miles.

I'm hoping the 13.1-mile route will offer just as much magic this year, as I have been training for a PR. Given the target paces of my plan, my goal half marathon pace for the race should be between 8:35 and 8:40 - a PR by at least 30 seconds and up to 1:30.

But if I learned anything this weekend, it's that even with putting in the work during training, a PR is not a given.

On Sunday, I needed to get in a goal pace workout. My plan called for a 2-mile warm-up, 3 x 2.5 miles at goal half marathon pace with 3 minutes rest between sets and a 1-mile cool down. Insane, right? As there was a track club 10K at 2 p.m. Sunday, I decided that I would just use the race as the workout. Yes, I would be cutting the workout short but I thought the length of that workout was absurd. It came in around 11 miles and my long run was 10.

The plan for the race was to jog to the start (1.5 miles), volunteer and then run the race around an 8:40 pace. The jog to the start was painful, and my legs were sore and tight from the previous day's 10-miler. I chugged along and hoped for the best.

But the best never came. From start to finish, the race was challenging. I never hit that stride where I felt like it was hard but doable. It was just hard. I walked through the water stop, which we passed three times, and took two cups every  time. By mile 3, I sort of just threw pace out the window and just worked to the finish. But, my watch threw working out the window and as such, I managed to hit my goal for the weekend - 53:08, an 8:34 pace.

We'll see how good that pace feels on race day. I'm hopeful, though, that after some rest, a good taper, lots of myofascial release and a well-timed massage will make it feel less arduous.

Here's the fall schedule:

Fort4Fitness half marathon, Sept. 27 in Fort Wayne

Bourbon Chase relay, Oct. 10-11, Kentucky. I'm runner No. 12. (I had been assigned lucky No. 7 but things got switched around.) Leg mileage is 3.6 miles, 8 miles and 4.9 miles.

River City Rat Race 10K, Oct. 26 in Fort Wayne. Undecided but it's a points race for the track club.

Veterans half marathon, Nov. 8 in Columbia City. I'm not sure about this one but I could be convinced as they have a great finisher's jacket. I just need to decide if I want to keep up long runs after F4F,

Runners on Parade 5K {A race recap}

Thursday night, I had a dream.

I was at the start of the Runners on Parade 5K, anxiously awaiting the race to begin. An employee from the local running store came to get me and ushered me to the start. When the gun off, I went. I started to run. Grass beneath my feet and nylon tape marking the course, I stumbled around nervous and confused. Where was everyone? How could I run hard without the race environment to push me? I tried to persevere but, at some point, resorted to an almost gorilla like run to help me keep speed. It did not work.

When I woke up almost frantic Friday morning, I knew that ROP was not just another local 5K. Not for me, anyway. This race was going to be my first real chance in four years to try to break my PR, which I set at the same race in 2010. The other 5Ks I've ran have either been in cold, icy conditions (HERE and HERE) or hours after a long run or pacing a friend.

This race, it was my time.

I showed up Saturday morning with grand dreams. I knew that I wanted to PR. I knew that it would be nice to come in under 25 minutes. I thought it would be really awesome to see how close I could get to 23:XX. So I tried to do everything right. I ran a very slow warmup of 1.35 miles, did some stretching and dynamic drills.

I found some of the running group, and we began to meander a bit closer to the starting line. This year, there was a bit of corralling with a Saucony tape marking off a section for the fasties - women who anticipated going under 24 minutes and men under the 21-minute mark. I lined up behind the line, as I definitely knew a 23:xx would take a miracle. But, with the tap of the butt and a tug on the arm, I found myself being encouraged to go with the group.

With two minutes to go, I put in my ear buds - something I never do - and tried to get in the zone, shaking out the zoomies.

The gun went off and I bolted. My 5K MO is to go as hard as you can for as long as you can. It's not the smartest, I acknowledge, but I usually I take off and settle in. On Saturday, I took off and kept going. I wasn't sure how fast I was going - a first I had the display on my watch reading just a clock and when I switched it to see current pace, the downtown buildings had me doing sub-5. Because, you know, I'm Kenyan.

But I was going fast - very fast for me - and I was surprised that I was able to see the fasties with whom I had started. I figured they would be long gone by the time we made the first turn but they weren't. Actually, I had them in my sights for more than a mile.

Why? The first clicked off in 7:14. It's the fastest mile I can remember logging and definitely the speediest split I've seen in a long, long time. I knew that I was going to be in for a surprise - I just didn't know whether it would be good or bad.

I tried to hold on through the second mile but by 1.5, I had hit the puke threshold and was more than glad to see the water stop. I quickly walked through and soldiered on but I was fading. I tried to dig and push, embrace the suck and move. Alas, my body had different ideas. I felt like I was crawling as I ran the streets lined with people waiting for the festival parade that started at 10 a.m.

The course, which is flat, features a lot of turns though most in the front half. When the last one came, I was excited and frustrated. The straightaway seemed so long and my body was so tired. I just tried to keep moving forward because after such a stellar start, did not want to lose this race. Not another one.

As I came toward the line, the clock read 25 minutes, and the seconds were in the teens. I knew I had my PR. But, I wanted to beat 25:25 - a time that Mark predicted. Coming in under that would win me a running product of choice in Boulder when we go later this month.

It read exactly 25:25 when I crossed. My watch, which I had started at the gun and no crossing the mat, had 25:24.

Official : 25:15. It was good enough for a 21-second PR and beating Mark by 10 seconds. I did it. I finally did it.

And, the best part, I know I have a faster 5K in me if I don't run like an asshole. I'm not trained to run low 7 splits for a 5K, and it's why the race was so hard. I think with a bit of control, I can come under 25 minutes. It might bum some people out to know that but I got to run fast and hard. I proved to myself that there is still something in me and somewhere to work toward.

Grass roots effort: Hare & Hounds XC recap

I did not run cross country in high school. Heck, I didn't even run in high school. At all.

Evidence: The gym class mile.

I was a freshman, deconditioned and unenthusiastic. I was more so, in terms of the latter, when I knew my finishing time directly correlated with my grade. The whistle blew, and I gave a solid effort for a tenth of a mile before resigning myself to walking. I spent most of that 15 minutes (or more) talking with a sophomore, who had a shared distaste for physical activity. But as we came closer to the finish, she picked up the pace. I did not. Dead last, I was.

And so it was with great unfamiliarity and uncertainty that I found myself at the start of the Hare & Hounds XC 5K on Saturday.

The event, sponsored by Three Rivers Running Company, is in its fourth year and is a points race for the track club. There's an individual option or, in line with its cross-country title, there's a team option with several divisions. I gathered a group of mother runners from the local Moms RUN This Town group, and we tackled the group as "Mom's The Word."

Photos courtesy Fort Wayne Track Club and Three Rivers Running Co.

During the race, I might have used some choice vocabulary rather than "Mom." To sum it up: Running on grass is hard. H-A-R-D hard.

It was a gun start, and the first mile took off at an unbelievable and unsustainable pace. For the first quarter-mile, my watch was reading sub-7:30. I knew I needed to get myself in check and took the opportunity to do so as we rounded the first bend and encountered our first incline (I'm not sure they count as hills outside of Indiana).

I fell in line with my friend Tina and ran most of the race with her. I'm not sure it was intentional but we seemed to be evenly matched, given the day and the course. I would pass her, she would pass me but in the end, we were together.

We clocked nearly even splits in the 8:45 range though I was aided in the second mile to hit some dirt track. I never thought I loved trails as much as I did until I hit that section. The return to grass, though, was like a slap in the face - especially when the course ran parallel to the finish before looping into the woods and back onto the grass. I spent that section willing myself not to walk. Not even through the water stop around mile 2.5.

I finished in 27:14, an average pace of 8:4Xish. I am not sure if there's an algorithm to tell me how much the terrain affected my pace but I know effort > time.

But, of course, it wasn't about time ... yay, running, rah, rah, three claps here. The event was about getting in a points race and, more importantly, finding a reason to run with some wonderful ladies. Most of us had not met (in person) until Saturday, and it was a great chance for us to start what will (hopefully) be a summer filled with fun, running and camaraderie.

Veterans Marathon: The final countdown

24 hours. In 24 hours, if good training and the stars align, I will be wearing a marathon medal around my neck and eating my face off.

Until then ...

1. This morning, after Mark took Miles to Walmart and the bank, I leashed up Denali for my final run of marathon training. I was going to take a rest day, my usual MO for racing, but the four-time winner of the Veterans Marathon, Justin Gillette, kindly suggested that I head out for a 15- to 20-minute easy jog today to relax the mind and muscles. And so I did. I didn't take a watch and just went out for a short loop around the neighborhood. It was a bit brisk but nice, and Denali seemed to really like it.

Side note: I need to put D-boy through Couch to 5K this winter, and I might even start up a DailyMile account for him - to keep us both accountable.

Anyway, after the run, I came home and stretched with Chalene Johnson for 30 minutes. ProCompression sleeves on today, and I'm ready to go.

2. The weather forecast for the race could not be more perfect - high of 58 and the morning should be mid- to high 30s. I hadn't given much thought to what I'd wear but I pulled out my cheetah capris from Kohl's and Oiselle luxe layer from Hood to Coast. I think it's a pretty stellar combo - capris will help me run like that fast cat and Oiselle will remind me to fly. My HTC memories will remind me to dig deep. I also plan to take some throwaway gloves and hat to keep me warm pre-race.

3. If I don't PR this race, I can be rest assured that I've PR'd in carb loading. I amped it up yesterday with a bagel sandwich for my mid-day meal and today's lunch is a wrap and orzo salad from Fresh Market. Breakfasts have been cream of wheat and yogurt.

4. Veterans Marathon is a small race, less than 1,000 runners total and not even 300 doing the full. The marathon is two loops of the half marathon course, which means the last half might get pretty lonely. I am hoping, though, that by breaking up the race that I won't go crazy. I will see Mark at the half-way point, and he will give me fresh Nuun. I have a Picky Bar for mile 18, which will taste pretty rad at that point.

I also spent the morning downloading a sweet playlist that I can start at mile 20. I don't normally run, much less race, with music but thought it could help. 

5. Goals. Yeah. Those things. I have several. First and foremost, I want to run smart, run strong and run with heart. I want to focus on the things I can control, at that moment, and worry about nothing else. I want to smile and have fun. I want to stay in the race, mentally, for all 26.2 miles.

Timewise, several of those, as well.

D: Beat Pam Anderson's time (5:41) from the New York City Marathon. Actually, I'd like to beat most of the celebrity times from that race.
C: PR, aka finish in less than 4:26:25.
B: 4:15 or better
A: 4:05.

See you at the finish line!

Firecracker goes boom, boom, boom

I wanted to fly.

I wanted my feet to push off the ground and never touch down.

I wanted to feel the wind in my hair.

But my legs were sore, even after sleeping in compression socks and a good stretch.

My body was tired, firework "displays" taking place long into the night kept me up far past my bed time. Even the Kona Cola nuun didn't seem to wake me up.

Alone, I felt antsy and anxious. Unenthusiastic and unsure.

I showed up at the Firecracker 4-mile with big dreams, though. I wanted to lay it out on the line. I wanted a real race to test my fitness and give myself a boost of confidence going into marathon training. I wanted to dominate. 

In a Team Sparkle skirt, Schwings and a nuun tattoo.

But I think the day had other plans.

I lined up toward the front as this race was gun start with chip finish and when the director said go, I went. Too fast I knew. I had hoped that I'd surge and settle in even though I know this strategy has failed me in the past, especially if I'm racing alone.

The course began at a park pavilion but we were quickly on trails and taking on challenging (at least to me) hills. The grass was wet. Soft. A thin track went down the middle of the course, as if it were forged by fierce mountain bikers. My feet were dancing not so deftly around the track and puddles, my breathing labored.

As I hit the mile 1 marker, I looked up to see the faster runners rounding the corner after making it to the top of a steep hill, one so steep that you could barely run it. Or I could barely run it.

And it was at this point that I realized that it wasn't my race. I had blown my wad. I had ran stupid. Rather than tell myself that I do, in fact, run my body and give myself the choice to finish with some guts, I decided to just get through it. Again. With each passing step, I saw myself get farther and farther behind. The people I had so eagerly and egotistically passed were now passing me. The people who weren't racing were coming from behind, looking strong and steady.

At times, I tried to power through but I wasn't in it and neither were my legs. They were shot by the time I tried to start utilizing the strategy I've so often heard about - picking people off. Picking off quickly became don't let the girl everyone's cheering for pass me.

I rounded the corner to the finish line and was shocked that it read 33:5x. Shocked because I was so far off my PR. Shocked because I was sure that my mental game would cost me a sub-9 pace. I gunned it for a bit and finished in 34:21 - 1 minute and 50 seconds slower than I did the Fort4Fitness race.

While I'm disappointed in myself, more my lack of mental game than physical effort, I am happy that I managed to place third in my age group - and that there were more than 3 in my AG, too.

Three Things Thursday: First things first

This weekend is a big race weekend - and not just because I'm headed to Wisconsin for my goal race.

My BFF, in all her fabulous glory, is running her first half marathon on Sunday, and I couldn't be more excited or proud. Once daunted by the work of training for a 13.1, she committed herself to training and tackled each and every run on the plan. She made her life and the schedule work and is more than prepared to take on the race.

Physically, at least.

Even though she knows she did the work, put the hay in the proverbial barn, I know she's excited, antsy and maybe a smidge nervous. And so I thought I'd offer three tips to her and other first-timers tackling the half marathon.

1. It's OK to walk through water stops. Actually, it's more than OK - DO IT. It's important to give yourself time to properly take in fluids and collect yourself before tackling the next section of the course. There's nothing worse than trying to drink from a cup mid-stride and ending up with water in your nose. Detour: It's tempting to skip water stops early on. Don't. 

2. Fuel like you trained. Your stomach might feel different on race day than it had on your 10-miler through familiar territory, and that gel might not sound so appetizing. Unless you are going to wretch, take it as planned. Your body needs the carbohydrates, calories and electrolytes and getting behind on nutrition could haunt you later.

3. Soak it in. Look at the sites along the course and the runners beside you. Enjoy what the day has to offer you. The entire course might seem overwhelming but when you look at it in chunks, block by block, it's manageable and even enjoyable.

And that's what you want to do. Enjoy it - the race, the accomplishment and seeing the hard work come to fruition with a shiny new medal. You earned it.

What advice (or encouragement) can you give to a first-time half-marathoner?

Feeling blue(grass): A race recap

Fitness level. Fueling. Heat.

For whatever reason, the post-baby sub-2:00 half marathon has remained elusive. I've missed it by a matter of seconds to a good stretch of minutes, and the barrier has been one that I've been antsy to break. I was quietly anticipating that Saturday, on the Run the Bluegrass course, would be my chance.

Run the Bluegrass is a half-marathon and rookie race of 7 miles that starts and finishes in Keeneland Race Park in Lexington, Ky. It bills itself as one of the country's most beautiful half marathons but doesn't shy away from the fact that it is a challenging, hilly course.

The race was scheduled to start at 9 a.m. - perfect for the family and me - as it gave us ample time to wake up, eat breakfast, clean the hotel room and head to the race. Traffic was a bear but, as luck would have it, the race was delayed 15 minutes for low-lying fog along the course. I had just the right amount of time to visit the bathroom, say my farewells to Mark and Miles and line up in my corral.

I chatted with a few people in my corral as I listened to the beep-beep-beep of the surrounding Garmins, wondering just what I had gotten myself into. Not only had I not prepared for the hills but I was doing things for the race I had never done before: I wore the race shirt, tried a new flavor of Shot Bloks and I was going naked. As in the numbers queen had decided not to wear her MOTOACTV. I was not going to know my splits nor my time for the entire race.

I know, I know. I am so rogue.

The gun went off promptly at 9:15 and my corral was called to the start line a minute later with me crossing the start line about 9:17.

As we made our way out of Keeneland and up a small hill, I tried to stay conservative. My plan for this race was to stay stay steady on the inclines, pull in my core and not fight the declines and keep my feet under me on the straightaways.

Most importantly, though, my plan was to soak it all in. The first three miles were nearly a blur of white fences and rolling hills. The sun was rising over the green horse pastures, slightly muted by the remaining fog. Every once in a while, a house would rise from the grass or a horse would come toward the course, curiously tipping his head at the spectacle along the rural path.

I felt strong those first three miles. Invincible, even. I passed the 2:00 pacer just before mile 2 and I was shocked to see the 3-mile marker. If this was what the race was going to be like, I thought, it was going to be a good day.

But just as I was letting things brew in my head, the course took a challenging uphill turn.

Though there had been some hills in those early miles, it was a net downhill and the next mile or so was a significant climb with rollers in the mix. My legs though strong from cross training and BODYPUMP were not ready as my hill training suffered significantly the second half of the cycle. I remained stubborn, head down, and took short steps to get to the top.

My pace slowed significantly - or what I can only assume as significant as I was without a watch - and I was passed by the 2:00 pacer and he was out of sight by mile 5. It didn't really bother me, though, as I knew if it was to be that I would catch up. Or not.

While my unofficial time goal might have slipped through, I was determined to stay true to my original hopes for the race - run strong, enjoy the race and not puke at the finish. When the hills felt insurmountable, I buckled down and thought of how lucky I was to run one. When my quads burned on the downhills, I opened my eyes and took in all that was surrounding me. When I wanted to walk, I told myself that I wanted to be a fighter and if I was going to accomplish anything during this race, it was going to be not walking.

The course seemed to offer runners a much welcome reprieve around mile 8, which was relatively flat (thought if you look at the elevation chart you can see that it was never truly flat). I let my stride open up, I pushed my shoulders down and enjoyed the run. The farms dotting the peaks and valleys were gorgeous and the grass - green grass - glowed in the daylight.

But I knew there was still trouble up ahead. A runner mentioned that the fun would start again at mile 9 - and it did for a good two miles. There was a slow and steady climb toward the finish and though I felt strong fitness-wise, my legs were tired. I later told Mark that at the end of most races I feel general fatigue or like it was my cardio that was taxed. The Bluegrass experience was completely different, with the course annihilating my legs.

There was a straightaway of sorts between miles 11 and 12, and I forced myself to shock the legs with a few strides. The muscles burned as I pushed the effort but I felt like I locked down into a stronger pace the last couple miles.

We turned into the main part of Keeneland and a sign marked that we were in the last furlong. I really wished I watched racing at that point because I had no idea how far a furlong was. I was hoping it was a quarter-mile. My legs were praying it was a quarter-mile.

Spectators lined the stretch and the cheers and bells were a deafening contrast to the quiet of the previous 13 miles. Amid the calls of friends and families, I heard a fellow runner announce that we had just a tenth to go and it was time to kick it. I pride myself on my finishing kick and though it may be a faux pas, I dug in and pushed my body faster than it had moved since those early miles.

I crossed the finish line strong and smiling. I was happy to be finished but just as happy to have experienced something so spectacular in beauty.

With no watch to stop and a glitch in the chips, I didn't know my time until almost nine hours after finishing. It was 2:02:42. So close and yet so far. But at least I didn't throw up.

'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.

Marathon Monday: I did it

4:26:25 - More details to come. When I can, like, think.