Races

Race Report: Moose Mountain Marathon

I did it.
marathon.jpg
My friend Katherine took this photo. One of the perks of volunteering is there are always friends at the finish line.

Official Results:
Time: 8:23:29
Pace: 19:13
Placing:
Overall: 207/258
Gender: 81/112
Division (OPEN F): 37/50

Watch Results:
Time: 8:23:28
Pace: 17:10/mi
Distance: 29.31 mi (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)
Heart Rate: 131 bpm (my HRM only intermittently worked)
Obviously I had some technical difficulties.

Goals:
A: 8:30
B: 9:00
C: 9:59:59

Food:
What I ate the night before: Goldfish crackers, chunks of bread & Nutella, 2 cookies, Triscuits
What I ate on race morning: a Clif bar at the marathon start
What I carried with me: 3 Clif bars, 10 Gu packets, Powerade

Gear:
What I wore: t-shirt, shorts, ball cap
Gadgets: GPS watch, heart rate monitor, fitness tracker

Discussion: I feel amazing right now, even hours after I finished running. I’m writing this at 10 pm, just after the race officially ended. I know this because I could hear the finish line from my room, and listened to the awards ceremony and the names of the runners as they crossed the finish line. I would have joined to help out but I feel pretty drained and even going down to get my post-race chili after cleaning up felt difficult.

I arrived Friday afternoon feeling pretty out of it. I thought I was sick but I am pretty sure it was just adrenaline. I helped hand out race t-shirts to marathoners and 50 milers, and then helped pack things up for the race morning check in. I hung out in my room and hoped to relax, but my heart race was still elevated and I don’t think I fell asleep until 1 am or so. But I slept until about 5:30, so at least I slept!

I got on the bus to the race start and hoped I wouldn’t get motion sickness. I don’t get bad motion sickness but just feel a little off/slightly nauseated. I hadn’t eaten anything at that point and had only had a little bit of Powerade so I was behind on nutrition from the start. I ate my Clif bar once I got there and didn’t warm up because I didn’t feel like it. I was wearing a lightweight rain jacket because I wasn’t sure about the weather (it rained while I was getting ready and had rained overnight, poor 100 milers!) but I took it off once off the bus since it wasn’t too cold. It folds up and zips into its own pocket and weighs like 1 lb so I just stuffed it in my hydration pack. I opted not to use drop bags or send a bag of clothes back from the start, just to simplify things. My friend Matt, a Ham radio volunteer, was at the start and I was able to talk to him until the pre-race briefing started.

One of the key elements in my pacing strategy was a little pace sheet I printed out, giving me times I needed to reach each aid station in order to reach my time goals. This is the only reliable way to stay on pace, since GPS is always a little off, and in this case, 3 miles off. However, I was unaware that the start had a funky little turnaround before we went through the aid station that is listed as the marathon start.The turnaround adds 0.8 miles, which was significant enough to affect my pace plans. [Update 9/15: it doesn’t add 0.8 miles, I read the map wrong; it is included in the 26.2.]

Cramer Rd – Temperance River AS: 7.9 mi, 2:34:05, 19:30 pace (segments ended when I left the aid station)
I didn’t start in last place like I usually do, and ended up falling in between two grand masters runners with tons of experience. We reached the first turn, then saw there was a traffic jam where the singletrack began. No one was able to run very much at the beginning, so we settled in for awhile. I ran with a small group of people for the first few miles, enjoying the runnable sections along the Cross River especially. I tripped while crossing one of the creeks, didn’t lift my foot up high enough to step onto the bridge. Once I started the climb that precedes the descent into Temperance, I separated a bit and ran by myself. I had heartburn so I was glad to be alone to just feel crappy. I ate a gel at miles 3 and 6. Nothing else eventful happened, I guess, or maybe I just forgot. How do people write such detailed race reports? I think I also ate a Jolly Rancher and maybe a wintergreen LifeSaver. I rolled into the aid station, ate some potato chips, and left, forgetting that I’d wanted to throw away some garbage and also drink some pop. Oops.
(I am not sure how the 0.8 mi fits into this, so I am going off just the distances given on the aid station charts. I don’t know if the 0.8 mi addition to the start makes the total distance 26.2 or 27 mi, but since it’s billed as a marathon, I’m going off that pacing.) Update 9/15: the total distance is 26.2. It’s 7.9 miles from the start/Cramer Rd to Temperance for marathoners, and 7.1 miles from Cramer Rd to Temperance for 50 and 100 mile runners.

Temperance River AS to Sawbill AS: 5.7 mi, 1:44:32, 18:21 pace
Out of Temperance, I trotted along for awhile, reapplying sunscreen and trying to wash down the chips. I ate part of a Clif bar before the Carlton Peak ascent began (I was also passed by the 50 mile winner just before the ascent!). I suffered through that as best as I could. There was a race photographer near the top, so that was marvelous. We’ll see how the picture turned out, I was beet red, I’m fairly certain. I think I have a bit of a sunburn but we’ll see tomorrow. I kept putting one foot in front of the other and actually passed a few people on the climb. It’s pretty tough, and there are big boulders at the top (which is not actually the summit, thank goodness). I was able to run a bit after getting off Carlton, and rolled into the Sawbill aid station. I remembered to throw my trash away, filled my 1/4 full Powerade bottle with water (the sports drink there was Heed, and I’ve never tried it, so I didn’t want to risk it), slammed a cup of Coke and a cup of ginger ale, ate some more potato chips, and left.

Sawbill AS to Oberg AS: 5.5 mi, 1:49:01, 18:49 pace
I slowed a bit during this section for some unknown reason. I guess just generally losing energy. This is also where my GPS went crazy, telling me I was running 9 or 10 minute paces at time. I realized it was completely useless and tried to just focus on running well. I fell in with a 100 mile runner and his pacer; they let me lead up a hill, then passed me, then I passed them when the runner stopped to pee, then I led up a hill, they passed me, I passed them during another pee break, and then that was it. The runner finished a bit behind me and I congratulated him at the finish line after his crew/family did, and we hugged. This section felt really long, especially for only being 5.5 miles. Nothing was really that hard, except for a few switchback sections. I tripped and fell in some mud and scraped up my leg a bit, but was otherwise ok. I tripped another time about a mile later. I was starting to feel like Grandpa Simpson with his frequent trips to the ground. I stopped to pee at some point along the trail, then caught up to some others and ran with one woman til we reached the aid station. It was quite a bit further from the Onion River than I remembered, and I found that sort of annoying. The Oberg aid station was AMAZING, though. Concierge service. I had my water bottle refilled, was led to the food, and even had someone take the trash right out of my hydration vest pocket. I mean… wow. That’s how I will acquit myself on every aid station volunteering stint from here on out. I had more chips and more Coke and ginger ale, and then left.

Oberg AS to Finish: 7.1 mi, 2:15:56, 19:08 pace
I thought as I left Oberg that I still had a chance to run under 8 hours. Hahahaha. Moose Mountain and Mystery Mountain said no. I was running slower even before then. I chowed down on a gel before climbing Moose Mountain, and then just put one foot in front of the other and hauled myself up.

And was met at the top by one of the race’s social media contributors!

I look like a Sith lord, which is good. He actually took a video but I swore on it (He asked how I felt and I said “I feel great, I’m done with this sh*t!”) and our conversation wasn’t that funny (he reminded me Mystery Mountain was still to come, I said I knew but I just was happy to be done with Moose Mountain, it was confusing).

I recovered and was able to run some on the top of Moose Mountain, and then slowed for the steep descent. I had another gel right before Mystery Mountain, popped in a LifeSaver, and then dug in for the switchbacks. I had hardly seen any other runners, just one 100er/pacer, and enjoyed being able to handle both tough ascents alone. Once I got to the top of Mystery Mountain, I was… giddy. Like, grinning and laughing to myself like a goon. I was ecstatic to be done with the climbs, and I could smell the barn!

It was at this point I realized that I needed to move my butt or I wasn’t going to make it ahead of my goal. I didn’t know how far I had left to go and I knew I was going to have to hustle. I was passed by a volunteer running by, who told me that I had 2 miles to go; I was thinking I had less, so that was a kick in the crotch. I passed a marathoner who was ambling along, not sure if he was bonking or just didn’t feel like running. A 50 mile runner passed me and we had a little chat as he flew by (he was the 5th and last to pass me; no marathoners passed me after I took my bathroom break), and I tried to keep my pace up. I ate the little bit of the gel remaining from Mystery Mountain and that was it, even though I was actually hungry. I knew I could eat at the finish.

I can’t say I really hammered it once I reached the road, but I did kick it up a notch. I didn’t like losing the shade of the trail, since the sun was still fairly strong, but I didn’t care too much since I was almost done. Once I turned off the road to come around the back side of the resort, I was grinning, and I ran through the chute smiling. There were a lot of nice people cheering and some women gave me high fives as I crossed the finish line, got my finisher’s medal, hugged the finish line coordinator, and accepted some glorious lemonade from the race director.

I went back to my room, cleaned all the mud off, changed my clothes, and then goofed around in my hotel room for a little while before I mustered the strength to go down to get the post-race chili (and some kind of quinoa salad), then brought it back to my room to eat, since I was feeling kinda… dazed, I guess. I drank some pop, ate some goldfish crackers, watched some Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, read, and listened to the sounds of the race.

I loved the race, loved the atmosphere, the other runners, the volunteers, the race staff, everything. The Minnesota/Wisconsin trail running community is so inclusive; fast or slow, everyone genuinely encourages each other and looks out for one another. We are here to have fun, to enjoy the beautiful trails, and to test our own limits.

And speaking of testing limits, I signed up for the Wild Duluth 50K.

Race Report: Voyageur 50 (Volunteering)

Volunteering at an aid station is a surefire cure for the running blues.

The Curnow Trail Marathon only set me back $10, as I made a commitment to volunteering for the Voyageur. So while DNS-ing the race had a significant impact on my dignity and self-esteem, the financial impact was minimal.

The Voyageur 50 is an out-and back race which follows essentially the same trail as the Curnow Marathon. It starts and ends in Carlton, instead of starting at the Zoo and ending in Carlton. This means some aid stations end up being open for quite awhile. I was at the Forbay Lake aid station, which was at mile 5.8/44.2, so it was a long day to staff. I only worked the afternoon portion, arriving around 11:45, about 5 minutes before the lead runner arrived. The aid station captain and 3 of the other women already there when I arrived had been there since 6 a.m., and stayed until 4 or later, so it was a really long day! They did have a long lull after the final runners went through and got in a run. Two other people arrived midway through my shift, and four of us closed down the aid station, along with one of the ham radio operators.

The first thing I have to do is compliment the race staff and our aid station captain for being on top of things. We were prepared for runners’ needs (within reason) and didn’t run out of anything except ginger ale and maybe watermelon at the very end. When we ran low on ice and watermelon, the race staff was there to refill us well in advance of truly running out, since the AS captain had thought to call ahead with plenty of time. We had more than enough water and sports drink, and runners were always able to grab what they needed off the table. The only things they really had to wait for were ice (which we scooped from coolers) and bottle/hydration pack refills.

My job was to mark down the numbers of runners as they came through. At first, I shared this job with another woman, who I finally realized looked familiar because I had seen her at Superior; she was one of the top women finishers (though I don’t believe a podium finisher). I felt kinda dumb because I was talking about what it’s like to be slow to someone who doesn’t know anything about being slow! For the most part, it wasn’t too hard to get all the numbers down, although sometimes we couldn’t read the numbers til the runners were practically on top of us. We didn’t have a single drop at our aid station, and only 3 runners who were cut by the grim reaper after the cutoff, so we didn’t have to call in many numbers.

Beyond collecting numbers, I helped out filling water bottles, replenishing drink cups, scooping ice into hats, and anything else that was needed. I sprayed one guy down with sunscreen I’d brought for myself; he was shirtless and sweaty and trying to apply sunscreen lotion to his back, but it was fruitless. I gave him a few spritzes and he was on his way. Our group talked to everyone, whether it was just to be friendly, to try to assess their condition, or to offer some encouragement to someone struggling. We reassured people they hardly had any distance left, and it was easy — at least until the next aid station. We answered their questions with a smile, and then answered the same question again when they forgot they’d even asked it. “2.4 miles to the next aid station, then 3.4 to the finish. 5.8 total.” I said that probably 500 times, if you consider that there were over 300 runners and I repeated it to many people.

No one came into the aid station looking like a zombie, or vomiting profusely, or covered in blood. Very few people even looked like they needed an extra eye on them while they ate or drank. It seemed anyone who was struggling or sick or injured badly had already been weeded out by the tough course, and anyone who reached us before the cutoff was destined to finish. I was pretty grateful no one barfed on or near me, as I always am. The AS captain’s son was running the race, and her husband and other son, who were crewing for him, arrived in the late afternoon to hang out, help with runners, and wait for their runner to show up. He had a bit of a rough day, but since his family was running the aid station, he didn’t get much pity. The other runners coming through with him got a secondhand dose of parental tough love, which they thought was funny.

The final hour or so before the cutoff, the aid station got rather quiet. We’d been bustling in the mid-afternoon, with crews showing up hoping to catch their family or friend and offer encouragement or help them get what they needed. (I was really grateful when a large group of runners came through and a few of them had crew; it allowed us to serve the crew-less runners more quickly.) Watching them was interesting. Some were anxious. Some barely seemed bothered (or were too busy entertaining kids to be anxious). Some were tired, others had already completed the race or had dropped and were coming to crew others. (One left his race number on and I nearly wrote it down multiple times before finally exercising my authority and making him take it off.) Some barely made it in time for their runners or even missed them, others camped out well in advance of their runner’s arrival. Some crews were efficient, with loads of extra supplies, receiving orders from their runners. Others were there simply to give a hug and a kiss and support. Some brought very cute dogs, others brought very cute kids.

In the final hour, we had several large groups of runners burst through together, and then long lulls. We watched the time tick away, hoping for more runners to make it. The race had started late, so the cutoff had been extended about 5 minutes. We got them through quickly, shouting encouragement. I told one woman who looked a little desperate that I had no doubt she would finish. I don’t know if that helped much, but I think she finished. (It’s Wednesday and the results have not been published yet.) The final guy through was told by the race official that he had to keep going, couldn’t stop for aid. And then the next guy, a few minutes later, was cut.

I really felt for the three men who sat with us at the aid station after we’d closed, knowing they were so close to the finish line, not looking particularly worse for the wear, but unable to continue. I spent quite awhile talking with one of them. He told me about his coach (Michael Borst, the winner of the race!), and how he’d learned so much and had finished the Zumbro 50 thanks to his advice and expertise. I really felt badly, and I told him “It takes a lot of courage to run a race when you’re not sure you’ll make the cut-offs. It’s one thing to be fast and have a bad race, but still come in well before the cut-offs. It’s another thing to know that even a good race might get you cut.” Or something to that effect. I hope it helped a little. It seemed to, at least for a moment. But I also know it was pretty embarrassing and dejecting for those 3 guys sitting there, waiting to figure out rides, and then finally piling into a race official’s car to get a ride back to the finish. Especially when the finish was only 5.8 miles away.

It took awhile for the sweeps to come; so long, in fact, that I jogged out on the trail with one of the other volunteers to look for them. I’m not sure how far we went out, maybe half a mile, and then turned around without finding them. If we’d just gone a little farther, we’d have found them, as they arrived a few minutes after we returned. They took some food and water and then left, and we finished the final few tasks involved in breaking down the aid station. I’m not a huge fan of that part of an event (who is?), but with fun people to work with, it wasn’t terrible.

I really enjoyed working at the aid station, although I still think my favorite volunteer experience was working the finish line at Superior last fall. I’m glad I did it; not only did it give me a chance to give back to the trail running community and to give the kind of service to other runners that I have received at numerous aid stations, it also re-motivated me to train for the Moose Mountain Marathon. I missed running and missed racing, although from the tales of the Curnow Marathon I heard from the women at the aid station, I felt a little more justified in skipping the race. I was not prepared to climb up slick, muddy hills after being awake for 30 hours. I’m a little more at peace with my decision.

Thanks, Voyageur runners and volunteers, for inspiring me and re-energizing me for the next 6 weeks of training. I’m happy to be back on the trails.

Race Report: Midnight Sun Midnight Run 5K 2016

Official Results:
Time: 30:02 (-4:19 from last year)
Pace: 9:40
Placing:
Overall: 226/551
Division (F30-39): 20/69 (I think. There are some people listed without ages as well as some unidentified runners on there, so I could be lower.)

Watch Results:
Time: 30:06
Pace: 9:37
Distance: 3.13 mi
Heart Rate: 183 bpm

Goals:
A: 29:59
B: 30:30

Food:
What I ate the night before for lunch: Thai peanut pasta and tabbouleh
What I ate on race morning for dinner: Small steak (bad idea) and corn
What I carried with me: nothing

Gear:
What I wore: T-shirt, shorts
Gadgets: GPS watch, fitness tracker

Discussion:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh. SO CLOSE. Just 3 seconds away from a sub-30 5K. I’m disappointed, but I will survive. I think I ran a good race, and probably wasn’t in a position to run a great race.

We left the house at about 11:20, parked at a ramp on Michigan Ave, and then jogged (well, I jogged, my husband walked) over to the race start. I did about a mile warm-up in all, as we ran a small part of the course to check it out. It was much darker than I recalled. Maybe last year the moon was brighter, I don’t know. But, I warmed up! Hooray! I would have liked to do a slightly longer warm-up but realized it was 11:45 and turned around to get back in time for the start. The start seemed to take forever to come, we stood around for 10 minutes but it felt like 20. We didn’t start exactly at midnight either, and then it took awhile for us to filter through the start area. My heart rate was kind of elevated at the start (still aerobic) due to the warm-up and some slight pre-race anxiety.

Mile 1: 9:54 (180 bpm)
I was in the hole from the beginning, but it was so hard to dodge people. There weren’t pace groups, just a single sign at the front that said 7:00 pace. I think that was just a deterrent for slow people who might want to start at the front. It was very frustrating to try to dodge and weave through people while uncertain what the ground in front of me was like. There were a few small puddles and you’d think they were filled with battery acid from the horror of some participants. They were stopping, panicking, and making sudden lateral movements, just to avoid a puddle that wasn’t more than an inch deep. People were slowing to a walk (and not an intentional run-walk walk) less than half a mile in; just take 10% off your effort and you won’t have to do that, folks! I had a lot of speeding up and slowing down during this time, and it took almost half a mile to get up to goal pace, which was now too slow to make my goal. My mouth was a little dry which bothered me.

Mile 2: 9:45 (184 bpm)
Still above goal pace, argh. I really screwed myself. This did have 2 hills, but I did ok on the hills, even sometimes accelerating on them. I regretted the steak; I didn’t feel actually nauseated in my stomach, but did have kind of a gaggy feeling in my throat. I still had some dodging and weaving around people to do, which was made more difficult by the visibility. There were lighted stretches, and then unlighted stretches with enough ambient light to see, and other stretches in shadow where the ground wasn’t visible. That made it challenging for my eyes to adapt, and I wasn’t sure of my footing at times, so I had to be a bit cautious. So that caution cost me those 3 seconds… but tripping, falling, and twisting an ankle would have cost many more seconds. Right before the turnaround, the woman in front of me slowed suddenly due to an errant glow bracelet on the ground, which she said aloud that she thought was the cone. Um, thanks for stopping short right in front of me. I found anytime I was forced to slow down due to a sudden movement from someone else, it took me a bit to find my groove again, as opposed to a gentler slowdown from approaching a slower runner

Mile 3: 9:22 (186 bpm)
This mile was mostly downhill but did have one significant (for a 5K) uphill. I knew I needed to make up time, as I’d set my watch to show average pace and could see I’d been in a hole the whole race. I did have some slight cramping in my lower GI system but I knew I could power through and it would go away, either when I finished or before. It did, and I was glad I didn’t let it scare me. I was really able to get in a groove and was running much faster, but it clearly wasn’t enough. When my watch flashed for the 3rd mile, I saw I had about 55 seconds to get to the finish, and I turned on the jets, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know right away, though I knew it was close. I came through the chute at a sub-8 pace. Some spectator reached across to give me a high five, but they reached out so far I had to dodge around their hand. Look, I don’t mind giving high fives at the finish, but don’t hold your hand out so far it obstructs me. Let me choose if I want to touch you or not. I blew my nose into my hand about 80 times during the race so I saved the guy a snotty high-five.

My husband finished before me by about 45 seconds, and was lying in the grass (because he doesn’t know how to race without practically dying… I could use a bit of that devil-may-care attitude) and called out to me to let me know that he was there. I acknowledged him but he was also coughing and I was like dude if you’re going to be sick get away from me. He was fine, I was just being paranoid. We got some water and cookies and picked up our race shirts, then cooled down walking along the Lakewalk a bit before returning to the car. I felt fine until we got in the car and started driving, and then I started to feel a bit queasy. It passed, but gave me a moment of panic.

I am pleased with how I raced, even if I didn’t get that sub-30 I wanted. This was not a good race to try to push myself to the max, since it was fairly crowded until maybe the last kilometer or so (after passing the last of the runners still heading out), and it was pretty dark in some spots, with some sketchy footing. I probably shouldn’t have eaten steak, but it was what was for dinner. I can analyze every aspect of this race and find a million spots where I could have just changed things a little bit and I’d have made my goal, but it really doesn’t matter. I still ran a very good race, finished strong, improved my time and placing significantly, and now I know without a doubt that a sub-30 race is within my grasp. There’s still a lot of potential left in this body and mind, and I’m not even working on speed or shorter distances right now. We’ll see if I really do try to chase down the sub-30 dream again this summer; so far I haven’t found a 5K I want to run that’s cheap, convenient, and timely.

Race Report: Superior 25K

Official Results:
Time: 4:51:40
Pace: 18:47
Placing:
Overall: 258/288
Gender: 133/157
Division (OPEN F): 75/87

Watch Results:
Time: 4:51:51
Pace: 20:27
Distance: 14.26 mi
Heart Rate: 163

Goals:
A: 3:59:59
B: 4:15:00

Food:
What I ate the night before: Goldfish crackers, a banana, chunks of bread & Nutella, 2 cookies, Rice Chex
What I ate on race morning: one chunk of bread & nutella at the condo, banana after packet pickup
What I carried with me: 2 energy bars

Gear:
What I wore: cap sleeve tech t-shirt, shorts, ball cap
Gadgets: GPS watch, heart rate monitor, fitness tracker

Discussion: Oh man, this race broke me. It chewed me up and spit me out again. At times I vowed not to run the race ever again, not to run the Moose Mountain Marathon, and that I would never be capable of running something as intense as a 100 miler. The only reason I didn’t contemplate dropping out of the race is there’s only one chance to drop: the aid station at the turnaround. A few hours later and I’m probably going to sign up for a marathon before MMM in September. Ah, recovery. And shade, and a ceiling fan, and cold water and vanilla Coke. I’ve already forgotten the pain. Mostly.

I slept kinda poorly, but still got more sleep, and definitely more restful sleep, than I did for Zumbro. I woke up before 6, thanks to the sun coming through the roman shades of my east-facing condo, and I couldn’t get back to sleep due to race-day anxiety. I got out of bed around 6:30, and almost everything was ready to go. I’d laid my clothes out the night before, stocked up my baggies of food, mints, and medicines (I ended up combining the mints and pills into one baggie so that I could also carry a baggie full of sunscreen, since I didn’t have a small enough tube.)

I stayed only a mile from the race start, and my worries about parking were for nothing, there was a huge lot with plenty of space. For some reason I remember that lot being smaller for the fall races last year, when I was working the parking area, but I guess I was either wrong, or there were a lot more people last year. I am fairly certain some people slept in various RVs in the parking lot. I checked in for a second time (required for people who checked in initially on Friday) and went back to my car, since it was close to the start. I screwed around for awhile and then realized it was getting close to race time and I needed to warm up. I ran about 0.4 miles to warm up and returned just before the short pre-race briefing. I lined up near the back and tried to stay out of the background of people’s selfies.

I started the race in near-last place and clearly didn’t budge from there. The race starts out on Ski Hill Road, winds a little less than a mile down the road (which turns to gravel), and then hits the Superior Hiking Trail. It crosses the Poplar River right away, which was a nice early view. There’s a slight gentle climb before hitting the first climb, Mystery Mountain. I think that climb went all right. I can’t remember, my brain has been fried. I was overall slower than I would have liked to be, but I figured I’d have time to catch up. Mystery Mountain has a fairly gentle descent on the other side, so I bombed down that with another guy, who I am going to guess swallowed about one bug per mile during the time we were running near each other. The bugs were rather annoying; I was getting dive-bombed by flies, they were landing on the underside of the bill of my hat, and in general irritating me. They only went away when there was a breeze or I was able to run decently fast. I caught some people on the downhill. There was a short section between Mystery Mountain and Moose Mountain, and then came the steep climb up Moose Mountain. It was really starting to warm up; it had been over 60F at race start, and as the sun rose, so did the temperature.

The climb up Moose Mountain to begin the race was steep, but I was still in control. Once I crested the mountain, I encountered the first runners of the 25K on their way back. They were really zipping by. The first two guys were only a few minutes apart, and it turned out the first 4 runners finished within 5 minutes of each other. The 5th runner overall was a woman, so it was nice to see her kicking some butt out there. She took down the course record.

I started to feel like a real jerk as I realized what these speedy runners were coming up from. Once I began the descent of Moose Mountain, I realized it was steep and awful. It wasn’t runnable (for me) on the way down, which was really annoying, as I was hoping to pick up some time on the downhill like I had on Mystery Mountain. I stepped aside and let the faster runners pass, offering encouragement as the hauled themselves up the long, steep climb. When I reached the bottom I was fairly horrified I’d be suffering through that same climb in a few hours.

I was encountering 25K runners regularly after Moose Mountain, which was difficult on single track. I tried to offer encouragement and many offered the same in return. I got a little tired of stepping off the trail or skirting to the side (sometimes right into branches), but that is how the race goes. It was throwing off my rhythm, but it turned out that didn’t matter! I crossed another creek, tromped directly through some mud other people were trying to pick their way around, and began the final ascent of “the front 7.5,” if you will.

The ascent of Oberg Mountain was less challenging, as it wasn’t as steep, but I was dodging runners and less able to offer a cheerful to them during some of the steeper parts. I came across the first 50K runner during the ascent to Oberg, and he told me “great job” (or something) before I could even congratulate him. He looked incredibly strong and finished under 4 hours, 26 minutes ahead of the next guy, someone I know by sight from running around Duluth. I saw maybe 4 50K runners before I got to the turnaround; I’d been hoping to avoid seeing any, but I realize that was pretty silly, considering even my initial time goals.

I thought I heard the aid station coming up, but it turned out it was a small pack of people with cowbells out to cheer us up over the top of Oberg Mountain. It was great to see them and get a nice pick-me-up, they were really lively. I did tease them that I thought they were the aid station and was a little bummed out. I also didn’t realize that the aid station isn’t on the top of the mountain. I don’t know why it would be, because that is stupid, you can’t drive to the top of these places. It meant another descent (fine) followed by another ascent (not fine).

The Oberg Aid Station people were totally amazing. There were people directing traffic, another guy greeted me with a pitcher of water to refill my bottle (I dumped the remaining contents of my water bottle on myself, soaking my hat and hair, before refilling), another guy put ice in my sports drink bottle himself and then handed me some cubes that I stuffed into my sports bra. I don’t remember where I read to do that, but whatever race report or blog I saw it on, I’m grateful, it came in handy. They had sunscreen at the aid station and I slathered up again, ate a couple of pretzels, and left.

The pretzels didn’t sit too well, so I had to back off the ascent out of the aid station. The banana I’d had for breakfast hadn’t been sitting well in my stomach for the whole race. It wasn’t disastrous, but I was burping banana and overall feeling a little yucky. The cold water and cold sports drink felt so good, I drank a little too much and started feeling full and nauseated. This was a very bad sign. I slowed down, even on the descent down Oberg, to let my stomach settle.

Then I hit the Moose Mountain climb, and that’s where the race fell apart. I felt so awful and sick climbing it. The only saving grace was it was in the shade; if it had been in the sun I’d have needed to crawl up. It took forever, and I finally took to stopping to let my heart rate go down and my nausea abate. I just felt so terrible. This happened the rest of the race: my stomach felt full, and then every time it settled, I would take another drink of water/Powerade and feel gross again. Most people would probably just puke and rally, but I am too much of a wimp for that. Another woman climbing behind me was shouting encouragement (how? she was climbing too!), which was so nice to hear. I cheered when I reached the top. I was surprised that I was able to do a little bit of running after a bit, but I was still mostly walking/hiking.

On the descent of Moose Mountain, I encountered a 50K runner, which wouldn’t have been unusual except that he’d already passed me. He’d run out of water and his body had just quit on him. Another 50K runner came across him at the same time I did and gave this guy his spare water bottle. Trail people are the best. I made it down Moose Mountain but I was in fairly rough shape at that point and had no interest in running. I knew there was one more ascent coming, but I thought it would be a bit easier.

Mystery Mountain was another disaster. It’s not as steep as Moose Mountain, but it goes on forever, and it’s in partial sun. (Maybe later on in the year, like, say, September, it is more shaded, once the trees have leaves, but the bare branches were offering no respite.) I encountered that poor guy with no water once again, and he had to get some more water from the woman behind me (same one cheering me up the Moose Mountain) to continue. I ran into two other 50K runners who needed water and I was able to share some. None of us accounted for the heat, but most runners were still prepared with hydration packs or handhelds. Some people either had nothing or had a single water bottle and had lost that gamble. I don’t get it. Maybe if I was fast I would, but running out of water on a hot day would have been terrible. The final aid station for the 50K (Oberg) is almost 8 miles from the finish. Be safe, people!

I felt crummy descending Mystery Mountain, and even tripped and fell once, although it was pretty slo-mo and I didn’t get hurt. All my goals were slipping away… sub-4, 4:15… then I adjusted to 4:30 and that came and went, and then I realized I was unlikely to beat my Zumbro time and unlikely to break 5 hours. It seems at some point my GPS got confused and I was shorted a mile. I know I didn’t go off course at any time because the shape of my GPS data is the same as the shape of the race map, and because the trail was extremely well-marked. So I’m not sure what happened there or when it happened, but I didn’t know that I was short according to my GPS data until I was almost done. I realized I was crossing the Poplar River again, and there was a volunteer there to cheer people on. She said “less than a mile to go!” and I hadn’t even hit 14 miles on the GPS yet. People at trail races aren’t jerks who lie about stuff like that, so I realized I could still break 5 hours and perked up a bit. The road is also mostly downhill so that was enticing, too. I was able to get a steady pace on the pavement, my stomach stayed under control, and I was able to run in to the finish.

I got my medal, drank a cup of cold water, and then got a cup of lemonade and sipped on that. There was chili for a post-race meal, but I just couldn’t imagine eating chili. I wanted to go back to the condo and die in piece. I found the poor dehydrated 50K guy, who was still upright and functional. He gave me a nice sweaty hug and said I saved his life, although I wasn’t the one who gave him water. I told him it just wasn’t our day, and he agreed and said it didn’t matter, being out there was what mattered, to which I agreed.

I am not too badly sunburned. Arms look ok, legs are ok, face has seen worse. I think my plan for the rest of the night is take-out from the resort restaurant, a bath in the whirlpool tub, maybe lance a few blisters, and then some Star Trek: Voyager and crossword puzzles, because I am cool. Oh, and a short evening hike down to the shore, for some active recovery. It should be blissful.

Race Report: Be The Match 5K 2016

Official Results:
Time: 30:51
Pace: 9:56
Placing:
Overall: 152/286
Gender: 68/151
Division (F30-39): 22/44

Watch Results:
Time: 30:56
Pace: 10:04
Distance: 3.07 mi
Heart Rate: 185

Goals:
A: 31:30
B: 32:00

Food:
What I ate the night before: Crackers and a banana chocolate chip muffin
What I ate on race morning: 3/4 of a plain bagel
What I carried with me: nothing

Gear:
What I wore: t-shirt, hoodie, buff as headband, shorts
Gadgets: GPS watch, heart rate monitor, fitness tracker

Discussion:
I exceeded my goals, which is outstanding. The race could have gone better for me, which is not outstanding.

I didn’t feel 100% well on Friday. I was… ok, but feeling a little off, at least where my GI system was concerned. I didn’t want to eat anything that would throw off my system more than it already was, so I didn’t have a very good dinner. We were also driving down to the Twin Cities during dinner time, so my food options were limited. I woke up in the morning feeling hungry but also nauseated, a poor combination. And of course slept poorly. First two “keys to success” nailed. Not.

We arrived to the race later than planned, of course. It was COLD. Maybe 36-37F. I left all my stuff in my mom’s car, including my Body Glide, so I was fairly certain I was going to have no skin left on my thighs at the end of the race, but there was nothing to be done. We met up with the rest of my family and were going to hand out bib numbers and shirts for the team, but it turned out they had checked in again, and due to a miscommunication, had received new bibs. It wasn’t a big deal since the only people running with timing chips were my husband, my sister-in-law, and me.

I didn’t miss the tot trot (key to success: check!), but my nephew was cranky and didn’t want to run. It was cold, so I get it. My sister in law carried him so he “completed” the race. I failed to do a proper warm-up (ANOTHER key to success missed), but I did get in a few minutes of running, which was… slow. And disheartening. I had no pep in my step. The call for 5K runners to line up was right after the tot trot ended, so I went to the back to get in position. There were signed for different paces, ending with 10:00, but there was hardly any space between 10:00 milers and walkers/strollers. Annoying. I saw my brother, sister-in-law, and husband lined up in the 9 minute group and moved up.

We started off slow, dodging walkers and slower runners as we moved up. I started off probably too fast and just figured screw it, go for it, don’t back off. I separated from the rest of my family and then my husband ran up alongside me and then passed me. This is his first race ever, I think (and his first in 20+ years, for sure), and he beat me by a minute or so. Pretty bada$$, but now the competition is on for the Midnight Sun Midnight Run  next month! Mile 1 split: 10:08. There was a slight GPS error here, and the map of my run shows me cutting through the lake, which most certainly didn’t happen.

I remembered my mistake from last year, not getting any water at the water stop halfway through. This time, I did, and I felt yucky after drinking it. I’m used to drinking water at a slow pace, not a fast (for me) pace. I kept checking my watch and reminding myself to push the pace. Mile 2 split: 9:49.

In the third mile, I slowed quite a bit, conserving energy (ha, more like being lazy) for a final push at the end. I didn’t quite have as much pep as I’d have liked, but I don’t usually go out so hard. It didn’t smell like dead fish at the end, which was good. Mile 3 split: 10:19. 0.07 extra: 9:09 pace. The weird glitch in the first mile must have thrown off the distance, as the course was USATF-certified and my GPS usually measures long.

My husband destroyed himself to get under 30 minutes (not realizing that he had a nice cushion, since he was running without a watch and had no idea what his start time was relative to gun time), as I discovered him sitting on the ground near the chute. He got up and walked around and felt better, and then we caught up with the other runners in the family and got our free food. Then we froze our butts off waiting for the walkers to finish, which wasn’t that pleasant. I was glad not to be sweltering during the race itself, but we were outside for an hour after completing the race.

I’m pleased with my time, and I feel like a sub-30 5K is within reach this year, maybe even next month. That’s a tall order, but with adequate sleep and nutrition, I know I’ve got more in the tank.

I also had a personal best in fundraising; I raised $551.66, and my team raised $1286.66 in total. Both family members who were bone marrow transplant recipients participated in the walk; we have been fortunate! I’m so proud to support Be the Match and to help others find life-saving donors.

Race Report: Zumbro 17

zumbro

Takin’ it to the house.

Official Results:
Time: 4:47:58
Pace: 16:56
Placing:
Overall: 332/358
Gender: 168/186
Division (open): 107/112

App Results:
App: MovesCount
Time: 4:48:13
Pace: 16:07
Distance: 17.87 mi (LOL, no)
Heart Rate: 162 bpm

Goals:
A: 4:59:59
B: 5:29:59

Food:
What I ate the night before: Bagel with cream cheese, banana, pretzels
What I ate on race day: Banana, bagel
What I carried with me: 2 handheld water bottles (1 for water, 1 for strawberry lemonade Powerade), 2 protein bars

Gear:
What I wore: Long sleeved tech tee, tech hoodie, running tights, buff (as headband), baseball cap, gloves, short socks
Gadgets: GPS watch, fitness tracker

Discussion:
This is a tale of risk and reward. I have whined and complained and looked for any reason not to run this race over the past week. The weather annoyed me, but then I thought of the people tougher than me running the 100 and 50 races, and the volunteers willing to brave the elements. Then my cold returned, but I drove down anyway, because the room was paid for and I needed to fulfill my promise to volunteer. Then I slept horribly and decided in the middle of the night that I couldn’t race. I would sleep in some, and then go volunteer.

Nevertheless, I completed the race, felt mostly great during it, and even came in under my goal. A freaking miracle. Or something that was always possible, I just didn’t have the information to confirm it.

The last hour or so of the drive from Duluth to Wabasha (where I stayed) was gorgeous. I’ve never been past Red Wing in Southeastern MN. The bluffs were stunning, as was Lake Pepin, which is enormous. The drive took a little over four hours, including a quick detour to pick up bagels, which turned out to be my dinner and lunch.

I checked into the hotel and then drove out to the race start/finish area to volunteer. I was assigned to work in the timing tent with some friendly people, including last year’s winner. Trail people are the best: even the elite runners in the community contribute. We had a good time gathering data as runners came through for their laps. Most were finishing their 3rd laps as they came through, though the leaders completed their fourth laps while I was on duty. We had sufficient staff that I was able to leave a little early, which I didn’t want to do, but I wasn’t feeling well.

I went back to the hotel and did all the prep work I could. I set out my clothes, charged my watches, and ate some food. I thought I was being super prepared by opening up my protein bars and tearing them into small pieces, since their wrappers are hard to open and the bars can sometimes be hard to tear with teeth when it’s cold. And it was cold. It got down to 18 F overnight, which is I believe the coldest it’s ever been for a Zumbro event. The 17 mile race start was in the mid-20s F, I believe. I also put some mints in a snack-sized bag in case I was a little nauseated, and I had a pharmaceutical bag with a Pepto tablet, antacids, and ibuprofen. (I know ibuprofen is not recommended for distance running, I also didn’t want to end up with menstrual cramps ruining my race.) I turned out not to need anything other than the protein bars (of course), but my bite-sized pieces mushed into larger lumps, so it wasn’t a total success. It was easier than eating one out of the wrapper, I will say.

I went to bed at a decent time, after soaking in the bathtub in my hotel “suite” (a fancier single room), hoping to fall asleep quickly. I was so nervous about the race that I tossed and turned the night away and slept in fits and starts.

I got ready fairly quickly, since there wasn’t much to do, and drove to the race start, arriving at maybe 8:10 or so. I checked in and then looked around for my friend, who was also running the race. There is truly no cell service in the race area, so it was amazing I found him so quickly. We sat in my car while I filled one of my water bottles with sports drink and I pinned on my bib and took off my winter coat. It’s not great that a winter coat was necessary in April. I slathered some Vaseline on my nose and we decided to mill around at the start. There wasn’t much else to do. Probably should have warmed up, but didn’t. I never learn.

The race started around 9 after a short, funny briefing from the race director. The 17 mile race has a slightly different start than the other races, due to the large number of entrants. We followed the RD, who was on an ATV, up a road instead of hopping right onto the single track. That supposedly spread out the runners a bit. I’m not sure if that’s the case because I was in nearly last place at the time. There was plenty of room for me to run! I spent most of the race alone, which was fine with me.

I have to go with my GPS data when discussing the race, because I have no other splits, but it was off by over a mile. I thought by planning my average pace, I’d be in good shape, but that doesn’t help when the distance is off. I needed instead to calculate what time I’d need to be at each aid station in order to make my overall time goal. I had WAY less of a cushion than I thought. According to my GPS, I hit 16.7 miles in 4:33. Now that would have been incredible. I suppose it doesn’t really matter because I don’t have a very good recollection of this race, mile for mile.

I didn’t run this race at an aerobic pace. I barely paid attention to my heart rate at all. It maxed out at 188 bpm when I was climbing the second of the four big climbs. I noted when the climbs were coming (race start, 6.5 mi, 7.5 mi, and 10 mi, or so) as well as the approximate distances between aid stations (they were really close! The farthest distance between stations was 4.33 miles.) It was nice to have that information socked away, it made the race more manageable. It was also great not to have a big climb during the last 7 miles of the race.

I was passed by multitudes in the beginning of the race, as I expected/planned. After the first mile (maybe less), no one else passed me permanently. I was on the chase for the remaining 16 miles. One woman passed me heading into the first aid station, but I didn’t stop at the aid station, and she never caught back up. I caught up to a couple of 50 mile runners on their final lap after I left the aid station, and stayed with them off and on until they stopped at the picnic pavilion at the top of the 3rd climb. They didn’t finish too long after I did, so they must have rallied.

I started hunting people down on the hills. I am (comparatively) good at climbing hills, thanks to my experience running in Duluth. They really suck, and there were some STEEP climbs in this race, but I think hills defeat many people mentally before they do physically. I refused to be defeated by the hills and just kept chugging away slowly, heart rate be damned.

I whined about the sand when I found out about it, but it wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t like running at Park Point, where half the beach comes home in my shoes. There are a few short stretches of sand early in the race, but the longest stretch of sand is between the 2nd and 3rd aid station (it’s the same station, visited twice). I caught my foot on a branch and tripped in the sand, which was lovely. I wasn’t hurt and only got a little bit of sand on the tip of my water bottle, so it wasn’t a disaster. It threw me off, and then the sand stretched on a bit, so I was a little low, but I hit the third aid station pumped up again.

The final big climb began when I left aid station 3. It was really tough, and followed up by a VERY challenging downhill, with all kinds of rocks. I encountered a 100 mile runner on the way down. The poor guy was injured I believe, and was inching down the hill by holding on to the shoulders of his pacer in front of him. Rescue was on the way when I got to the bottom. *Update* He finished the race! Amazing. I came across this account from the fellow who was helping the runner down the hill; it turns out he wasn’t the runner’s pacer, but a spectator and a true Trail Person willing to help someone in need.

The reward for reaching the bottom of the hill is a flat gravel road and then the bridge to aid station 4. After that, it’s fewer than 3 miles to the finish, and just a few uphill battles to wage. The actual finish did seem like it would never come, but I was so excited to come down the long stretch of grass I’d seen runners come through the night before. I was really pleased that I was able to run it in to the finish. My friend and his parents saw me coming and literally had to yell to get my attention, since I wasn’t expecting them. I got a nice welcome from the race announcer in the timing tent; volunteering has its perks! I’m not 100% sure what he said, but it was more than just “here’s Runner XXX from City, State.” Or, “can we get a bib number on that?” Which happened a lot. I learned from the night before and had my bib positioned on the left side for easy viewing and easy scanning from the timing mechanism. “It read beautifully,” I was told after I checked in to say hi after the race.

I ate eggs and bacon and cookies and fig newtons post race and it was glorious. I didn’t feel barfy at all during the race and only had mild worries about stomach cramps. For the first few miles my head was a little fuzzy due to a little bit of congestion, but it mostly cleared up. I coughed plenty during the race and had a few rather painful coughs after the race ended, but I must have just had to shake something loose. My nose, on the other hand, was RAW. I had a runny nose for most of the race, and of course was being gross and just wiping it on my sleeve, because what else could I do? I’m not good at snot rockets. I had a lip balm with me and finally became so bothered I dug out the lip balm and smeared it on my mouth and nose. Heavenly. I need to find a better way to carry stuff than the pockets of my water bottle hand-holders. It’s challenging to get stuff out (because I jam so much in them) and moreso when I’m carrying both handhelds.

I would absolutely, without a doubt, run this race again. The course is challenging but I really enjoyed it! I’m not sure I would enjoy it 3 or 6 times, but maybe. It is well-marked (I did hear of some wrong turns though), although I did have a few “OMG am I on the trail?” moments, even though there was nowhere to take a wrong turn. I’d come across a “reassurance” marker eventually, though. Everyone was so friendly, the food was delicious, the swag was amazing (I was only deterred from getting a hoodie because I didn’t have cash to pay for it), and the scenery was heavenly. I can see how the trail could get extremely muddy, so while it was cold (and terribly windy for the Friday runners), we were fortunate for mostly dry trails. There was some mud, and it was a little tricky to navigate without slipping, but not impossible.

I hung around for a little bit post-race, and then went back to my car, intending to hang out in it for awhile before driving back, to make sure I wasn’t out of it. I felt pretty good though, and actually didn’t even feel cold, which surprised me. I went back to the hotel, drew a bath, and then lounged around for the rest of the day. I didn’t hurt physically, but I was worn out. I drank a couple of vanilla Cokes, ate some bagels and other snacks, drank some water, and rested. I need to bring some more substantial food next time; I really should have left the hotel in search of a real dinner, but I didn’t.

Sunday I felt ok. A little tired and cranky, and my hips were creaky, as usual. I desperately needed coffee and stopped for a latte in Red Wing, which was the closest Caribou. (I wanted to hold out for Sbux but the closest one was inside a Target in Hastings, and I wanted no part of that.) It took forever thanks to a billion people at the drive thru plus some annoying dude in front of me taking 11 guesses at the trivia question. This is irrelevant to the race recap but it annoyed me and kept me from feeding my addiction. I stopped in the Twin Cities as well, to break up the drive and move around a bit.

I am so glad I didn’t quit before the race even started. I got a nice dose of endorphins and a confidence-boosting result. And I only have to suffer through a few more days of cold weather before we get some 50 F days in Duluth! I’m ready to take a few days off and then regroup for Superior.

Race Report: Gobble Gallop 5K

Official Results:
Time: 32:31
Pace: 10:28
Placing:
Overall: 1030/1802

App Results:
App: MovesCount
Time: 32:35
Pace: 10:27
Distance: 3.12 mi
Heart Rate: N/A

Goals:
A: 33:00
B: 34:00

Food:
What I ate the night before: Qdoba burrito bowl
What I ate on race day: 2 Starbursts
What I carried with me: Nothing

Gear:
What I wore: Hoodie, short sleeved tech tee, medium-weight running tights, buff (as headband), gloves
Gadgets: GPS watch

Discussion:
I woke up early after dreaming that I was late to the race. Actually no. I dreamed that I was with 3 of my high school friends who I’d convinced at the last minute to run the race. They needed to sign up, so we needed to get there early, and I was lollygagging around, and then we arrived too late for them to sign up. I woke up feeling like a jerk. Then I was too worried about being prepared for the race to go back to sleep. Annoying.

I need to stop eating entire burrito bowls before races, because I still kind of felt full. I mean, it was good on one hand, because I didn’t need to eat anything, but I could have maybe eaten 3/4 of the burrito instead and not felt so… uffda. The quintessential Scandinavian-American onomatopoeia is the only appropriate word for it. So I was a little worried.

I left for the race at about 9. I love the races around here, they start so late in the day! 9:30! I thought parking might be an issue, but that was dumb. It’s Thanksgiving, businesses aren’t open, their parking lots were fair game. I parked up the hill about 4 blocks. That was good thinking on my part. It was snowing but not too windy, which was nice, and the streets weren’t slick, which I was worried about. A large portion of the race was run on brick, which can get a little tricky.

I warmed up without feeling self-conscious! That was nice. I just kind of trotted around for awhile and then watched the end of the mile race. The winner of the mile race was also third place in the 5K. I hate him. Most of the runners of the mile were kids (or their parents) and most were faster than me. Some fairly small kids are really freaking fast. So now I’m jealous of 9 year olds.

I spotted Joe, a friend of mine, and glommed onto him until race start. He is a fast runner so he of course lined up well ahead of me, but it was nice to have someone to talk to for a little bit. I lined up at the back as usual. It was a bit more of a bottleneck at the start, since the pack was wider than the start/finish gate we had to go through. The results don’t have gun time/chip time differentials posted but I think I started about 2 minutes after the gun time. At first I wasn’t even sure the race had started because it seemed like nobody moved.

Throughout the first half of the race, I had to tell myself to slow down. I kept going under 10 mins (I was looking at my watch way too much during the race, but clearly I needed to) because it felt good. I am glad that I kept reminding myself to back off because I needed that energy at the end, although I probably could have pushed a little harder. (Especially if I hadn’t eaten the burrito the night before, as I had a feeling of fullness in my stomach. Nothing more concerning than that, but it was still annoying.)

My splits were fairly even: 10:23, 10:31, 10:34. So it’s clear I started a little faster and backed off, but that’s fine. That was tempered by slower segments where I was moving around runners. Because of the delay in the start plus my overall slowness, the first runners passed me on the way back before I reached the first mile marker. So that was a little demoralizing, but it makes sense. 10:23 + 2 minutes after gun time = 12:23 with less a mile to go for the lead runners, and the winner finished in 15:36. Joe passed me going the other way relatively early on too and I yelled at him to get after it as he blew by.

The race itself was fairly straightforward, with little elevation change, although I could definitely feel those small inclines. A young girl said to one of the adults with her that she was “definitely feeling the burn.” I was, too. I tried to take advantage of any slight declines to speed up, and then dialed it back on the inclines. I knew at the halfway point that there was no doubt I was going to at least meet my B goal, based on my average pace so far. I had that set up as one of the displays on my watch so that I could see it the whole time, since I was so obsessed with setting a PR.

With 0.2 mi to go (according to Strava, I didn’t know this at the time), I started to kick, and then with about 0.1 miles to go I hit another gear and zipped in. Joe waited around to cheer for me at the end for a second, which was nice! I had a lot more juice in my legs than maybe I should have had left, so I guess I left something out on the race course. Oh well, that just means another PR next time.

Because yeah. That was a giant PR. 1:50. I clearly didn’t see that coming, since I thought 33:00 was a stretch. I am excited and happy, and I am glad to see some improvement after stepping away from racing shorter distances for four months to focus on my half marathon. I know that PRs come easy at the beginning and in a few years I’ll be happy to shave a couple seconds off a 5K time. I’m still going to soak it up and enjoy it because I did earn it, and I did work hard to get to this point, even if it wasn’t a goal race.

This is my last race of 2015. I was going to race a December 5K, but the one I had in mind turned out to be next weekend. I didn’t want to run back to back races, so there we have it. Ending the racing year on a high note!