2012 Mother’s Day 5k: Race Recap

Race results here. Race photos here.

I’m not really sure where to start. The conclusion of this race has shown me that I may need to revise my view of myself, and changing perspectives is notoriously difficult. I have put a considerable amount of effort into defining and embracing my status as post-collegiate, middle-of-the-pack, average at best, some might call it “slow” runner. “Don’t expect an age group award, Megan.” “It doesn’t matter that you’re in the ‘great middle,’ Megan.” “Stop trying to think in terms of how fast you used to be able to run, Megan.” This was a necessary process in order for me to be able to find enjoyment in non-competitive running and train for a marathon without hurting myself. I needed to distance myself from the person who was told repeatedly that running anything slower than 8:00 pace was JOGGING. Ptooey. Jogging. I don’t know that anyone wants to be called a “jogger.” I certainly didn’t, particularly not when I was covering distances of up to 20 miles at a time.

It’s been 7 years (good grief, SEVEN? I’m old!) since college, which is plenty long enough to adapt to my revised definition of “Megan the Runner.” At the start of 2012, it seemed that things were continuing as they were. I PR’d at the Topeka to Auburn half marathon, but I was out of contention for an age group award. No surprise there. I got a trophy at the Love2Run 4-miler, BUT it was a team race, so that doesn’t really count. Then, I bettered my 4-mile PCPR at the Trolley Run AND ran some seriously negative splits, even breaking into the 6:00-minute range at one point. As hard as it is to admit, I was starting to feel like I was on the verge of…something. Let’s not call it a comeback, OK? That seems a bit premature.

This brings us to the Mother’s Day 5k. On Sunday morning, I was wandering through the 3,000 other women preparing to start the race, looking for my goal pace on one of those signs designed to keep walkers towards the back of the pack, out of trampling range. 12:00, 11:00, 10:00…no, no, no. 9:00? “Not anymore!” I thought to myself with a smile. 8:00…ah, here we are: 7:00 mile pace.

Wait a second…here we are AT THE FRONT OF THE LINE. That can’t be right. Is that right? Quick mental calculation: is 7:00 miles reasonable? Well, I averaged 7:00 at Trolley Run, and that’s a mile farther than today’s race. As odd as it seems, I’m allowed to line up AT the starting line.

I spent the next several minutes before the race glancing around nervously, fearing that those around me had ID’d me as a poser, and a road race bouncer would presently appear by my side to lead me back to a more appropriate starting position. It didn’t happen. First, because there are no road race bouncers, and second because it would appear that my competitors didn’t view me as a has-been, out-of-her-element jogger.

We waited at the starting line for what seemed like an eternity, but finally the race announcer shouted “GO!” and Gayle of Gayle’s Harley Davidson took off on her motorcycle. Girl power, I tell you. Oh — in case you haven’t figured it out, this is another of those “women only” races. Apparently because this one didn’t have the word “diva” in the title, there were significantly fewer tutus and running skirts. There was, however, a daisy mascot and a couple of walkers dressed as goddesses. Togas, laurel wreaths in their hair, gold sandals…the whole nine yards.

A front pack quickly separated, and I tried to hang on to the second group. I’d estimate that I was somewhere near 20th place. Before the first mile was over, I’d even managed to move up a few spots. I was in disbelief that (1) I was currently in front of nearly 3,000 other people, (2) that I was moving up, and (3) that I felt within myself.

Just before the first mile split, I saw fellow BHS alumni and KC-area running celeb Ricky Hacker. He told me I was looking good, and I grinned and told him I was “reeling her in.” The “her” in this case is a runner named Kara, who Ricky had been warming up with when we chatted before the race. I really was reeling her in, and competitive Megan was thrilled by that fact.

Mile 1 was a 6:53, which was right where I needed to be. Not too fast, not too slow. Quite respectable. Mile 2 cut through the center of Corporate Woods, where the roads were lined with spectators. I was mostly attempting to maintain speed at this point. I wasn’t entirely sure where the course was going, but if we left the confines of the corporate park we were bound to run into some hills. 6:50s were going to be difficult if there will hills. I passed two younger girls and told them “good job.” They thanked me. Runners certainly are a polite breed.

Then, I spotted my two FAVORITE spectators — LilRunr in his jogging stroller, marveling at the crazy amount of activity all around him, and Scott behind him, taking pictures. I loved seeing them, and I waved and tried to get LilRunr’s attention. It didn’t work, and on I went.

Mile 2 concluded with a bizarre series of switchbacks in a parking lot. Ew. Very ew. My second mile split was 7:03. Whoops. I blame the parking lot.

The last mile was filled with me reminding myself that it was the last mile. “Hang in there, it’s the last mile.” “Suck it up, it’s the last mile.” “DON’T SLOW DOWN, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE! It’s the last mile.” My efforts were necessary because it seemed like the last mile was FULL of disheartening turns away from where I knew the finish line was. At the last of these, when I thought we were going to cross a bridge and turn LEFT to head to the finish (and that I still had a chance to hit 21:30), we turned RIGHT and headed away once more, I spotted something truly motivational. Something that inspired me to keep my foot on the gas and make gosh darn sure I at least broke 22:00…

SPEEDO MAN.

Yes, the 60+ gentleman that I used to cross paths with when I was training for the half marathon…he who wears a speedo and only a speedo to run. Mr. Speedo Man was walking the dedication walk (that is, running on the trail beside the 5k course), and for some reason this was the motivation I needed to find the energy for one last surge. I passed another runner (who, it turns out, was in my age group) and FINALLY made the final turn to conclude this 5k.

I felt like I was flying, the crowd was cheering me on, and then…whooooosh! The girl I had passed 200m before passed me like I was standing still in the last 2 blocks. Ah, nuts. Some things just never change. A blazing final kick is just not in my running toolkit.

My official finishing time was 21:45. I was 13th overall and 2nd in my age group. Wooooowee. We decided to wait around for awards, which proceeded to be a loooong wait with a bored toddler (he kept signing “all done” and “bye-bye” at us as if we were failing to take the hint that he was READY to GO!) and then an even LOOOOONGER wait because they started the awards with the 85+ age group and worked their way down. Sigh. (Sidenote: This reminds me of elementary school, when we’d always do things in alphabetical order. Sometimes, the teachers would say that we’d be going in REVERSE alphabetical order, and then act like they were giving us some special prize. You know who NEVER gets to be in the front? Someone whose last name starts with N…or is in the 25-29 age group. Ok, enough whining.)

Eventually, I was called to the podium, where I got my picture taken with the daisy mascot. (LilRunr didn’t trust her and refused to favor her with a smile. I can’t say I blame him. Adults in costume are generally suspicious to me, too.) As we were leaving, I realized that in addition to the glass paperweight thinger that represented my new status as an “age group contender,” I had also received a $50 Dick’s Sporting Goods gift certificate. Suh-weet. That is the closest I’ve ever gotten to winning money in a race!

And now, for some photos:

Being a mom before the race…he has something on his face.

LilRunr with his cowbell, watching the race. (In the background is the race winner.)

They made the fountain pink for the race.

What kind of slow poke gives up this kind of lead? That’d be me, with Kicky McKickerson chasing me down.

Official race photo of my finish.

Lest anyone have the misguided impression that all of my race photos are gems…here’s the harsh, eyes-closed, awkward-stride, about-to-spit reality.

Photo op with my little boy. LOVE him!

And the awards ceremony with the daisy. Love how LilRunr is giving her the stink eye. Lol.

Training Log: May 6 – 13

Training
May 6 – 13

Monday – 0 …”Yoga.” Yeah, right.

Tuesday – 4 miles (8:23/mile) …I’m trying to make my default running distance 4 miles instead of 2. We’ll see how that goes. Today, I felt really good.

Wednesday – 0 …I don’t remember why I didn’t run today. I’m sure I had a really good reason. (sarcasm)

Thursday – 0 …My house was dirty and I cleaned it. Yes, really. Every spare second I had for the entire day, I used to scrub the shower, clean toilets, vacuum cat hair, dust, and pick up. It needed to be done, so I guess it was worth it.

Friday – 4 miles (8:19/mile) …I bumped into our friend and sorta neighbor Eric again! It was nice catching up and having someone to run with for the day. I love when the works out.

Saturday – 3 miles (8:25/mile) …Felt TERRIBLE. Simply terrible. I did see a bunch of people playing cricket in a parking lot, which was fun. Scott and I watch cricket tournaments on ESPN3. It’s incredibly entertaining to try to learn a sport just by watching it. I imagine that my interpretation of cricket is far, far off the mark of the actual rules. As I passed, I heard several of the guys yell something in a language that wasn’t English. A block or so later, I figured out what it was…not because my language skills are that extraordinary, but because I ran by a tree that was shielding a dude taking a leak. Whoops.

Sunday – Mother’s Day 5k! The race recap will be coming tomorrow, but I was pleased with how this turned out. 21:47, 13th overall, and 2nd in my age group. (For the actual results, click here.)

TOTAL: 15 miles

Training Log: April 30 – May 6

I have a “training plan” again. It’s this cute little Word document full of tables and formatting and numbers. The goal of this little technical writing exercise is to help me preserve fitness throughout the summer months, with a 15k or possibly a half marathon to come with cooler temperatures in the fall.

It’s my same basic training schedule — 5 days of running per week, 1 day that I allot to yoga (but actually do nothing), and 1 day of complete rest. I’ve learned that trying for anything more only leads to injuries and burnout. In a spirit of optimism, I’ve also included a “speed work day,” but much like my fictional cross training day, this tends to get ignored more often than not. Ah, well. Such are the luxuries of being an old lady, middle-of-the-pack runner.

So…traditional goals, traditional plan, and a traditional complete divergence from said plan in the VERY FIRST WEEK OF TRAINING. Oh, Megan. So predictable.

Training
April 30 – May 6

Monday – 0 …This was an intentional rest day. This was also the day where I helped my friend D with her “30 things to do before she turns 30″ list by going with her to a new restaurant. I only say that to explain the next couple of days…

Tuesday – 0 …LilRunr woke up screaming at 11:00pm on Monday. After settling him down and getting him back to “night night,” I realized that my stomach, which had felt slightly over-full and uneasy when I’d gone to bed, was preparing to stage a revolt 2 hours later. Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious. Perhaps this little food borne illness is owing to the fact that I ordered chicken at a sushi restaurant, but as I told D…I REGRET NOTHING. An evening out? Uninterrupted conversation? Catching up with a friend? Yes, please! Next time, I’ll just try to skip spending the rest of the night alternately crouched in front of the toilet or whining on Twitter.

Wednesday – 0 …Half of me wanted to run, and the other half figured that dropping 3 pounds in a day warranted at least two days of recovery. There’s a very complicated formula involved when it comes to being lazy.

Thursday – 0 …Now I’m just stuck in lazy mode. Poop.

Friday – 2 miles (8:45/mile) …Scott and I took the day off (we call them “day dates.” We’ll go out to lunch, shopping, perhaps a movie…all part of maintaining sanity and having some “together time” without having to pay for a babysitter. It may seem like a silly way to spend a vacation day, but it works for us. They are extremely rare, are these “day dates.”) and started our day with a two-mile run together. It felt terrible, but the streak of 0′s is finally broken.

Saturday – 2 miles (8:38/mile) …I’ve got about half a lung at this point, courtesy of a terrible hacking cough that is PROBABLY caused by allergies (but I keep imagining consumption, because I’ve been reading too much 19th century literature lately) and the ultra high humidity. It was NOT a fun run, but I did it, dang it. I did it.

Sunday – 4 miles (8:37/mile) …Don’t listen to Runmeter. I forgot to hit “stop” for a couple of minutes after I was actually done running, and that cranked the average up to 9:15 or so. It lies! Running over 2 miles felt like a breakthrough day. I think next week will be better.

TOTAL: 8 miles

 

Trolley Run Photos

Trolley Run Photos are in. (Click here to go to the official, by-yourself-some-photos page.)

Moment of shameless compliment-fishing: do I look the leanest, most runner-ish I have in quite some time?

Finishing the 2012 Trolley Run

I think so.

14 Months, 12 Races

14 Months
Our LilRunr is nearly 14 months old. Every day, I must acknowledge that I am mothering a TODDLER rather than a BABY. This young man gains coordination and dexterity daily. He’s fixated on climbing right now, and will attempt to climb and stand on any object–living or not–in the house. The couch, his toys, the bath tub, Scott or I, the cat…he hasn’t yet applied this skill to his sleeping quarters, but it’s only a matter of time until I hear a “thump” in the night and discover the lad out of his crib and raising a ruckus.

He’s still my sweet-tempered boy, and nothing gives him more pleasure than being able to “help” around the house. He enjoys feeling useful and will proudly comply with nearly any request to “please help mommy and…” Yes, I have taken advantage of this useful component of the toddler psyche to convince him to eat a vegetable. “How about some green beans?” (vigorous head shake…NO!) “Can you help mommy and eat some green beans? (nom nom nom)

Sweet-tempered or not, he is easily frustrated when something he wants or wants to do is just out of his reach. Often, the desired item is the iPhone or iPad, which a foolish adult has attempted to “hide” from him but failed to completely remove from view. More frequently, however, there’s something that he wants to DO but isn’t developmentally ready for yet. All in good time, my boy.

This rarely happens in company, leading our families to believe that he is “perfectly behaved” and “always happy,” but he is capable of flinging himself to the ground, screaming, in an attempt to get his way.

Occasional screaming and continued night-waking aside, LilRunr is a delight to be around. His smile and laughter are contagious. Last night, he was taking a bath when Daddy showed him that the foam letters that stick to the bath tub will also stick to him. Oh, boy. It was like a naked baby super hero in the tub, with the letter B stuck to his little belly. He could not get enough.

12 Races
I’m planning my 2nd quarter of racing for the 12×12 plan. First up is the Mother’s Day 5k in Overland Park. This is another of those “girls only” races, so I’m preparing mentally for the sea of pink and tulle and running skirts. (Why run a “girls only” race, you ask? I’m a mom…Mother’s Day…awww…)

For June, I originally planned on running the Hospital Hill 10k. It’s one of those legendary events in Kansas City, and I’ve always wanted to run it. However…I have discovered that the entry fee is slightly steep. $50 for a 10k? Good grief. Is Hospital Hill “legendary” enough to warrant it? Or should I find a less expensive event somewhere else? I haven’t made up my mind yet.

July and August, on the other hand, are easy and inexpensive decisions. I’ll be hitting the “alumni run” circuit again, which means running in Baldwin in July and Pittsburg in August. I’m looking forward to the August race in particular — when I ran last year, I was a bit embarrassed by the result. I think I can really improve my time and maybe even finish a few places higher. I’m not delusional enough to think that I’ll be able to hang with the college girls, but perhaps I’ll be close enough to see them in the distance.

2012 Trolley Run: Race Recap

Looking for actual results? Click here.

Boy, was that close. There was a moment this weekend when I was worried that I was going to miss out on my April race. That moment came when I was sitting in a car near the starting line of the 2012 Trolley Run, watching the rain pelt the windshield and listening with dismay to the loud rumble of thunder. Rain, I don’t mind so much. The thunder? Oh, heck no! What if they cancel the race? It’s April 29. I won’t get another chance to race in April, and then my glorious “12×12″ plan will be at a measly 50% for the 1st quarter. Blech.

Fortunately, that one loud crack of thunder was the only one we heard. The race started right on time — by 7:45, my brother and I were doing that awkward “walk/shuffle/jog” to the starting line that I associate with larger races.

With around 6,000 participants, the Trolley Run certainly counts as a “larger race.” We spent the first mile dodging, weaving, and bumping into other runners. After the Love2Run 4-miler in February, I had decided that my goal would be to better my 29:59 time at the Trolley Run. At the time, I thought this would be a snap. Trolley Run is an easier, mostly downhill course, and I imagined myself to be in simply splendid shape. Then, of course, life happened and I went from running 25 miles a week to more like…2. Yikes! I was in the process of revising this goal when Scott encouraged me to think positively. After all, he said, he had run much faster than anticipated at the 2011 Trolley Run. Go out at 7:45, he recommended, and then try for negative splits.

That was the plan, but when Matt and I went through the first mile of this reportedly fast, flat course at 8:02, I had a moment of panic. “Well, there goes that,” I said to myself. I had planned to run negative splits, but recovering from an 8:02 mile? Is that even possible? I haven’t done speed work in ages, and one thing I noticed in February is that my “discomfort tolerance” is embarrassingly low. A little oxygen debt and a very little lactic acid build-up is all it takes to have me backing off the pace.

“That sucks,” I told Matt as I shared our split time with him. “Don’t worry too much,” he encouraged. “I bet most of that time was in the first couple of minutes [when we were doing the most weaving in and out of the crowd], we’re surely going way faster than that now.” True, true. How did I get so lucky to have such positive people in my life? I told the lil’ brudder that I was going to try to maintain whatever pace we were currently running and see how things were shaping up at the halfway mark.

Onward we went. The two-mile mark and the water station (which we ignored) came up fast. Mile 2 was a 7:30 — a full 30 seconds faster than the first mile, which is good. However, I’ve still got 30 seconds to make up in the last 2 miles if I’m going to break 30:00. Can…she…do it?

This is the point where I lost my running buddy. Lil’ Brudder decided to see how fast he could close the race out, and he zoomed off into the distance. As he left, a girl running near us said, “WHOA!” Whether she was commenting on brother’s sudden burst of speed or the shirt he had fashioned into a hat, I can’t quite say.

Left to my own devices and not feeling completely fatigued, I decided to give sub-30:00 my best shot. As the course sloped gradually downward, I consciously increased my pace. I was pleasantly surprised with the result:

7:00!

Take that, pesky 30 seconds from Mile 1! “Now, we’re getting somewhere,” I thought to myself. “This can actually happen. Let’s see just how far under 30:00 I can get.

I increased the pace yet again, but a persistent stitch in my side and some flailing in my arms was letting me know that there wasn’t much left in the tank. I knew that the course was going to go by my brother’s house and end on the Plaza, but I wasn’t sure if it was a direct shot, or if we’d have to meander off towards UMKC before heading to the finish line. As we neared the Plaza, I kept counseling myself to expect a turn. “It’s further than you think, hang in there, it’s further than you think, don’t give up…” I spotted my lovely sister-in-law cheering outside her house, and made sure to wave frantically so that she saw me. She did.

And, then…we were turning. TOWARDS THE FINISH. I looked at the clock, but of course it was reading the overall time (34:something) and was no help to me. I peeked at my watch, a move that would have aggravated Coach in days of old. I caught a glimpse of a 28:xx, and I started to get excited. Who’s going to have the most negative splits EVER? THIS GIRL!

Almost giggling to myself, I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch at 29:18. Final split? 6:43. Wow!

8:02, 7:33, 7:00, 6:43…yup, I’d call that negative splits.

I have a sudden hankering for some track workouts. If I can run 6:43 with little mileage and no speed work, what will I be able to do with just a TAD more dedication and effort?

I hope to find out.

Social Media Failing

There is a certain social media site that is apparently the next great thing. The news repeatedly runs stories that open with, “so, are you on ____? If not, you may be the only one. It’s officially the fastest-growing website in history!” Etcetera, etcetera.

Personally, I don’t much understand the appeal. This website appears to be a way to bookmark with pictures instead of the names of links. It’s obviously incredibly addictive, and if you ask a fan of the site why they love it, they’ll say, “oh, I get so many great ideas.” Yes? AND? Seems to me that I could go to my good friend Google and say, type in, “awesome new chicken recipe” and get some results based on my exact query rather than happenstance.

Despite my confusion and ambivalence towards the site in question, there came a day when I decided the wise course of action was to sign up and claim my standard name, “megarunr.” I am a notoriously late adopter of Internet trends — I didn’t start a blog until 2008, after years of scornfully saying, “an online journal? Who on earth would care to read it? Get a life, people.” Now, of course, I’m hooked. Ditto for Twitter — I started an account a year or so after it was created, even though I thought that “a separate site for Facebook statuses was nuts.” I had the Lesson of the Blog to learn by, and I figured if there came a day when “megarunr” wanted to branch out from WordPress, it’d be best to have a consistent name.

I still don’t think I’m using Twitter correctly, but it gives me a place to post my mileage (when I run) (and it’s not raining) and a place to talk to myself when I’m up late at night and can’t sleep. Such a noble use of a technology.

So, when this new website came out and my reaction was, “are you kidding me? I don’t have hours a day to browse crafts and recipes and whatnot. If I need something, I’ll go to a search engine. Talk about worthless!” deep down I knew that there may come a day when I’d become more accepting. I’m just not hip, folks. Once the rest of the world starts to get over something, I discover it. (Need another example? Exhibit A: Scott and I didn’t start watching “Lost” until Season 6. We watched the Pilot after Scott had surgery, and then ended up watching all 5 seasons on Netflix and the first couple of episodes of Season 6 on Hulu in order to catch up with the rest of the country.) This is just the way I am, so a couple of weeks ago I decided to expand the “megarunr” identity to include one more social media website…just in case.

Almost instantly, I find myself irritated.

Irritation #1: Instead of being able to register, I’m told to “request an invite.” REQUEST AN INVITE? Who do you think you are? Do you think I’m dumb enough to feel like I’ve been asked to join some kind of exclusive club? This is the INTERNET, people!

Whatever. I request an invite, figuring I’ll get one of those robot emails telling me I’m in. Instead, I get:

Irritation #2: An email informing me that I’m on the “waiting list.” WAITING LIST? Yeah, I’m already losing interest.

So then, I let it sit for a day or two, and eventually the confirmation email arrives. I’M IN! I automatically feel better about myself…ok, not really. I feel irritated, because it tells me that I’m going to have to link this new account to either my Facebook or Twitter feed.

Irritation #3: No. Just no. I don’t want to do that. Why would I want to annoy everyone on Facebook with that mess? “Hey friends, Megan just found a cute craft idea! And another, and another, and this recipe, and that hair styling technique…” Also, I don’t really want to give permission to access either account to this third website. Stupid. If you’re that awesome, site in question, you should be able to stand on your own two feet.

I sit for a few more days, conducting an internal debate. To link or not to link…finally, curiosity gets the better of me and I say “FINE. Link to my Facebook.” I’m AT LAST taken to a registration screen, where I type in “megarunr.”

Irritation #4: For the first time EVER, on any website, “megarunr” is already taken by someone else. You’ve got to be kidding me. I have “megarunr” for blog, IM, email, Twitter, WellSphere, and I don’t even know what else. Who decided to suddenly take it over?

Boo. That irritation is the final straw. My slight interest has been crushed into oblivion. I really only wanted to make sure that I reserved the “megarunr” user name…since that’s impossible, I’ll go back to bookmarking things the old fashioned way. Without the pretty pictures.

2012 KU Relays

On Saturday, we loaded up and drove 40 minutes to Lawrence, KS. Our goal: to see the most nachos ever accumulated in one place.

No, really. One of the sights at a TRACK MEET — the 2012 KU Relays — was an attempt to set the Guinness World Record for the largest serving of nachos. I was there. I saw the 80-foot trough with my own eyes. It was amusing and disgusting and no, none of our party partook of the “scooped from the trough in a semi-gelatinous state” free nachos.

They did, however, break the record. Four thousand six hundred and eighty-nine POUNDS of nachos. Ay, caramba.

The real reason we went to the KU Relays, however, was to watch the running events themselves. In the “invitational” races, there were a number of professional, semi-professional, or just really stinkin’ fast athletes running. I saw Bershawn Jackson in the 400m hurdles, Dee Dee Trotter in the 400m, and AJ Acosta, David Adams, and Nick Symmonds in the mile.

I’m sure there are some that I missed, because I spent a large portion of the meet underneath the stadium, allowing LilRunr to explore to his heart’s content out of the glare and burn of the sun.

Baby Toddler boy enjoyed the free commemorative cowbell:

Look mom, your iPhone! Can I play with it?

And he definitely knows how to use it. More cowbell, anyone? The young man also had a chance to meet some very special people: Jim Ryun and his wife, Anne. Does Jim need an explanation? Non-runners, he was the first high school runner to break 4:00 in the mile. He’s an amazing talent and his is an amazing story. Originally from Kansas and a KU alum, he’s very supportive of track in general and KU Relays in particular. More years than not he is the guest starter for the mile event and devotes several hours to signing autographs. When I was in high school, the “Ryun Running Camp” took place in my hometown, so I had the extreme good fortune of attending it for several years at the “day camper” rate, which was the only one I could afford. I love the entire Ryun family, and my years running (and playing ultimate frisbee) in the summers with them and other campers are some of my favorite memories.

Anne, Jim, LilRunr (and his poker face), and I

And now, they’ve met my LilRunr. So awesome.

Eventually, LilRunr tired himself out and was persuaded to sleep on my shoulder. If I was a good track mom, I would have remembered to bring his quilt out of the car and I could have made him a little pallet in the bleachers. Instead, I lost feeling in my arm, rear, and feet holding 25 pounds of sleeping toddler weight.

Sleepy time.

Ah, well. An hour later, he awoke fully energized and in time to watch the mile. I know that the world record is well under 4:00 now, but it really is something to watch that minute barrier be broken.

The only thing that made me sad was how few spectators seemed to be in the stands. When I ran at the KU Relays in high school, it was a BIG DEAL. I remember being a bundle of nerves and feeling like the whole world was watching me. Has it changed so much, or was it simply the level of competition that made it seem big? There was a terrific atmosphere, a perfect day, and so much great competition…I wish more people got excited about this sport. I believe it will be a yearly event for our household.

 

Trolley Run…wait, WHEN?!

I got an email yesterday letting me know that I should be gearing up for Trolley Run week.

What day is it? Where am I? I have to run?

Um…what? Last time I thought about it, my end-of-April race seemed luxuriously far away. After running a 4-miler in bitterly cold, slightly hilly Lawrence in February, I decided that my goal for the Trolley Run would be to better my 29:5.7 time. In theory, this would be an easily achievable goal. The Trolley Run course is fast, mostly downhill, and the weather much less likely to freeze up the ol’ muscles.

Then, somehow, seven weeks disappeared. It’s no surprise to anyone here that running has been less of a priority for me lately. Was it the lack of “Training Log” posts (corresponding, as it were, to a complete lack of training) or the lack of posts at all that gave it away? Sheesh. I guess I need a half marathon to train for. These 5k’s and 4-milers just aren’t enough motivation to run more than 2-3 miles at a time, 2-4 times per week.

So, I guess that I’m running next weekend. Will someone remind me? I have a feeling I’m going to forget…again.

Family Running Adventure

The best thing about being married to a fellow runner is the UNDERSTANDING. I would imagine that a non-running spouse would respond to my slightly desperate and anxious declaration of “I have to go run” with, at best, perplexed support. “Uh…you just ran yesterday. You HAVE to go run AGAIN? Will you die if you don’t?”  I could also easily imagine a less supportive response from a non-runner. “I’ve been out of town, working 12-hour days all week. Now that I get back, you want to leave me with this rambunctious toddler so you can go RUN? Are you kidding?”

Not my husband. There’s no perplexity, but there’s plenty of support. No sooner than the words, “I have to go run” were out of my mouth than he was planning a family outing to one of the local running trails. Fifteen minutes later, Scott, LilRunr, the jogging stroller, and I were on our way.

I love him.

The plan was for me to run while Scott and LilRunr went for a stroll. When we met up again, we would switch positions and Scott would run while I walked with the little man. We weren’t 100% sure if Scott would be able to run — the saga of his leg injury continues, and unfortunately he’s not quite back to running regularly — but the rest of the plan was solid. I told Scott that I’d run 2 or 3 miles, and he encouraged me to go for 4.

Four it was. I ran two miles out, then turned and headed back for the starting point. As I traced my steps, I wasn’t at all surprised to see Scott and LilRunr RUNNING towards me. I figured it wouldn’t take very long for him to get bored with walking and give running a try, plan be danged. I couldn’t help but smile as my fellas came closer — LilRunr LOVES to be in the jogging stroller, and he especially loves to go faster than walking pace. Take the little guy out for a walk and he’ll lounge back in the stroller, gazing serenely at the environment with his hands relaxed at his sides. Continue the walk for long enough and he’ll eventually fall asleep. Pick up the pace, and the little guy first sits up and then leans forward as if relishing the movement. The breeze blows his always unruly hair this way and that, and he grips the tray in front of him and offers an occasional “da!” or “ba!” of delight.

Scott turned the stroller around, and I proceeded to lead our little family back to the starting point. This made LilRunr especially happy. He likes being able to see one of us in front of him as we run. Every time I turned back to look at him, he was either smiling or giggling, completely enjoying himself. When he caught my eye, he’d either wave or say, “mama!”

It was the best run I’ve had in a long time.