A Nedlo Family Christmas Run

My dad, John Nedlo, henceforth referred to as J-Ned, had but one meager wish this Christmas: to rewrite, make that rerun, history. You see, J-Ned has undertaken the famed Boston Marathon two times with, shall we say, unsatisfactory results. He unwittingly picked two of the hottest years on record, '03 and '05 (not quite as steamy as '12, but close enough), and as a result ended up semi-coherently Gallowalking his way straight into the medical tent both times. To my knowledge, his finish line photos don't include the celebratory hand-holding of two Fuel Belt-clad Team in Training participants like someone's who shall remain nameless (but rhymes with Schmallen Schrickland) and whose epic and almost literal meltdown is chronicled here, but I'm pretty sure in '05 I spent the better part of two hours frantically darting up and down the crowded Back Bay streets calling everyone on my emergency contact list only to discover J-Ned slumped up against the side of a random building awaiting the sweet, sweet embrace of death.

This is not J-Ned. But it is my favorite Boston finish line photo of all time.

So anyhow, back to Christmas present. J-Ned wanted redemption, or at minimum a pleasant, memorable stroll up and down the Newton hills, through Brookline and down Commonwealth before hanging right on Hereford, left on Boylston. I was happy to oblige, and even snapped some pics along the way seeing as he's long since burned the official race photographs from the aforementioned attempts. And though he's allegedly sworn off marathons, I wouldn't be surprised if J-Ned makes one more trek from Hopkinton before hanging up his shoes for good. Maybe next year Santa will bring him a new, shiny BQ!

J-Ned ready to roll at the Newton fire station, mile 17.2-ish

One John posing with another

Taking a quick break before we tackle the final hill

One to go!

Finished! And potential future father/daughter Christmas card photo

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Week in Review

90 miles
3 doubles
2 days in DC
3 medium-long runs (15, 14+, 13+)
6x10 mins. core

This week was bookended by several long-ish runs, beginning with a solid 15-miler in DC and culminating with a 1-2 medium-long punch over the weekend. On Saturday, Jordan and I joined our boss, who's training for his first marathon, for one of his early long runs. Despite plenty of hills and wind, he cruised at an 8-minute pace average for over 14 miles (during which I managed to injure myself while vacating a port-a-potty, but that's neither here nor there) and even saved enough energy to make us breakfast and cappuccinos afterward. On Sunday, we joined Emily, Jenn and Justin for another solid effort out at the Battle Road trails. The good news is the snow was almost entirely melted and the trails were quite clear. Unfortunately, we discovered the bad news halfway through the run--one big, open, low-lying section called the Great Meadow was more or less completely flooded. I immediately suggested we turn around, but once Jordan tromped through the first ankle-deep puddle the size of a long jump pit we all reluctantly followed. We finished the run looking like we'd survived one of those extreme obstacle races instead of just an easy 90 minutes, but even I had to admit the adventure was a lot of fun.

Showing Dad the "secret" monument on Teddy's Island

 

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Week in Review

77 miles
3 doubles
6x10 mins. core
4 runs on the YMCA treadmill
2 days in DC

A week that started off bitterly cold and snowy finished all sunshine and smiles in DC. I ran an 8k PR, walked about a million miles and spent some quality time with friends and family. I've got a few more days to play tourist before I reluctantly return to my normal life on Tuesday night. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to a rare treat tomorrow: the Monday morning long run! I plan to show Dad and Tim my favorite "secret" running spot, Teddy Roosevelt's Island, and then continue on for a loop that will likely retrace my steps from my last long run here. I can't wait!

MRN + JRB = best friends since 4th grade! Always great to see Julie when I'm in DC.

Nedlos on our tour of the Capitol, which did not get canceled. I cannot say the same about our planned tour of the White House. #sequestersucks

Mother-daughter pic. Coordinating colors = 1/2 coincidence, 1/2 intuition.

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St. Patty's Day 8k Race Recap

4 mile w/u + strides
Target: 8k @27:45 or faster
Actual: 27:42; 2nd place female
Results
4 mile c/d
Total: 13 miles

I've widely stated my view that DC is the best urban running scene in the country, and this race is a great example of that point. For a few hours on a beautiful, crisp, clear Sunday morning, the most important street in the world was closed down just so I (and about 6,000 other people) could enjoy the privilege of toeing the line to a breathtaking view of our United States Capitol building at sunrise. 

In an unprecedented turn of events, I was actually in DC not for work but for--dare I say it--a Nedlo family vacation. My parents, along with dad's running partner Tim and wife Pam, were touring the District for spring break, and it took little convincing to persuade me to join them for a few days. Given my affinity for and familiarity with the area, I was happy to act as the de facto tour guide and share some of my favorite sights/sites. The fact that the St. Patty's Day 8k would be taking place the same weekend was just an added bonus. As it happens, I was in town the same weekend two years ago and not only ran the 8k but also the Four Courts Four Miler the day before. (And, in a completely unrelated coincidence, developed a wicked case of ITBS the day after.) I briefly entertained the idea of pulling the double again this year, but luckily nature intervened in the form of another delightful spring snowstorm and postponed my Friday night flight to Saturday morning. Fortunately I arrived to DC at noon on Saturday and was greeted with perfectly clear blue skies and temperatures in the low 60s--perfect for soaking up the sun and touring around the Mall all afternoon. I capped off the night with a quick trip to Jilane's and a visit to Ted's Bulletin for a few of their homemade pop tarts before returning to my parents' hotel and settling in for the night.

Blueberry cheesecake, peanut butter bacon, Nutella mint...so many tasty options!

Like the previous day, race morning dawned with the promise of clear blue skies and perfectly crisp temperatures. I jogged down to Freedom Plaza, location of the start and finish area, and literally the first person I bumped into was fellow Charlotte expat and former CRC member Brian McMahon. We chatted for a few minutes before setting off on our respective warmup routines, and before I knew it the time had come to toe the line. I was more than a little nervous, having not raced anything this "short" in quite a while and with the bad taste of my Mercedes Half debacle still fresh in my mouth. To make matters worse, my secret hopes of surprising all the locals and charging triumphantly through the tape were dashed when I spotted Claire Hallissey, DC resident and 2:27 British Olympic marathoner, standing a few feet away. Clearly I would be striving for runner-up at best. 

In the beginning, however, the lead seemed somewhat within reach. Either Claire was starting off conservatively or I was going way, way too fast. Both scenarios would inevitably yield the same outcome, but the latter had the potential to hurt a hell of a lot more. As I passed the first mile marker in 5:28, just a few steps behind Claire, the answer was still unclear. This was slightly faster than I'd planned, but not so outrageous as to result in certain implosion. Once we reached the first 180-degree cone turn--of which there would be five throughout the race, barring this from being labeled a truly "fast" course despite its near pancake-flat topography--she no doubt saw that a stranger was relatively close behind and decided to hasten her jogging pace. She powered away decisively and I was never in contention again.

But if it turned out that the former scenario--Claire taking the race out at a relaxed effort--were true, so too might be the possibility that I was in over my head. After a first mile that was arguably a touch too quick, I summarily dispelled all debate by splitting 10:50 for miles two and three. For you mathematicians out there, this breakneck tempo had me careening through 5k somewhere in the neighborhood of 17:01. My 5k road PR is 17:05. On the one hand, this unexpected development could be considered a cause for rejoicing. On the other, more rational and realistic hand, the race was barely halfway over. Not unexpectedly, the fourth mile got pretty ugly. I'm embarrassed to say how close this mile was to six minutes, but shame is a powerful motivator--powerful enough, at least, to force me to somehow pull it together and cover the final .97 miles somewhere in the vicinity of 5:30. The final 10 minutes of this race were some of the more painful in recent memory, but with Claire out of sight and no other women threatening for second I was able to use the men nearby to drag me down Pennsylvania Avenue all the way  the finish line, which I crossed in just over 27:40. I hung around the finishing chute to see my dad and Tim come through in impressive fashion before setting off on a wonderful solo cooldown around the Mall. 

Objectively, despite a suicidal early pace I would consider this a solid effort. I bested my 8k PR by over 30 seconds and ran almost a full two minutes faster than at this race in 2011. (Although, in defense of past me, I was probably a little bit less fresh having raced the four miler on Saturday.) Incidentally, I credit my result almost entirely to the Ted's Bulletin pop tart, seeing as its pre-race consumption had the same positive effect at the Army 10 Miler, and I might just have to pay Jilane to overnight one to me before every race going forward. With the BAA 5k coming up in just over a month and a soft PR that I now have no excuse not to shatter, I may need to call in that favor sooner than later.

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Week in Review (and Obligatory Hurricane Sandy Post)

101 miles
2 doubles
15-mile long run
5 days in Dallas
1 hurricane

At some point on Saturday, I found myself adding up the week's miles and being perplexed by how difficult (and tiring!) it seemed to hit triple digits as opposed to other weeks. Then I realized I'd only doubled twice--as opposed to four or even five doubles in a typical week--had started the week with a 15-miler on tired legs and then knocked out possibly my most challenging workout of the cycle on Wednesday morning before hopping a flight halfway across the country. Now it all makes sense!

I would like to say the weekend went swimmingly and I returned home from DFW tonight and am now writing this from the comfort of my own home with my kitty cat on my lap. Unfortunately, if you happen to have turned on the tv or the radio or picked up a newspaper or logged onto Facebook or checked your Twitter feed or interacted in any way with any other human being at any point in the past 48 hours, then you know there's a little storm a-brewin' on the East Coast. Despite the fact that this beeotch Sandy isn't scheduled to make landfall until some point tomorrow night, my flight home today was prematurely canceled. After waiting on hold to the tune of some lovely background music from Jet Blue for a mere 32 minutes, they were helpfully able to schedule me on the next available flight to Boston.

On Thursday morning.

So, after exploring a variety of plans, options and travel routes that involved not one or two but four trips up to the American Airlines ticket counter at DFW (and the potential for a night under the stars in some random Oklahoma state park with the Three Stooges in the Airstream trailer), I was able to tentatively book myself on a flight headed to Boston on Tuesday afternoon. (I say "tentatively" because for all I know Boston could be underwater by then and only approachable by cruise ship. But I've got my fingers crossed.) Fortunately I was with my parents at the time who, barely able to contain their glee at this turn of events, gamely attempted to almost convincingly feign sympathy for my situation whilst hurriedly ushering me back into their waiting vehicle and whisking me away to the boonies of East Texas for a few nights at home.

Things could be worse. Recently, they sprung for an upgrade from dial-up internet. They also have season one of Homeland available on demand (and, for that matter, every available season of every available television show recorded in the past five years, including but not limited to the complete Law & Order annals (and all of its subsidiaries)), and the free laundry detergent flows like wine (a nectar which, on the other hand, is one of the bare necessities that is glaringly absent here). The fact that the quality of cell phone reception is worse than that in an Afghanistan POW bunker (I'm already on episode four of Homeland) is merely an excuse for me to stretch my legs every few hours and bask in the autumn sunlight by traipsing down to the street at the end of the driveway and, much to the neighbors' amusement, thrusting my "smart"phone skyward. Plus, I plan on coercing my dad into joining me for my afternoon double in a few hours and then guilting my mom into going on a nice brisk walk in the neighborhood park after work. (She hates exercise, but loves my company. A dilemma!)

If I do get home tomorrow, that would be swell. If I don't, at least I'm safe and sound here with the Nedlos. And that feisty CIA agent Carrie Mathison.

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13.1 Dallas Race Recap (by the Karhu Bear)

2 mile w/u
Target: 13.1 miles @goal MP (6:00-6:05)
Actual: 1:19:04 (6:02 pace); 2nd place female
Results; Dallas Morning News article

I could write my own report of this race, but why bother? That's what I keep The Trailer's Jon Gugala around for! His article, which recounts his own experience of racing in the Karhu bear costume and details Karhu Airstream driver Joe Moore's dominant half-marathon victory, is far more entertaining than reading about how I ran marathon pace for 80 minutes. (On the other hand, my efforts netted me $500 and all Jon got was some bizarre head chafing and the punishment of dressing up in Hooter's hot pants, so who's the real winner now?)

Oh, and by the way, my dad ran 1:35:57. He is 63 years old. This is officially more badass than anything your dad has done this week. The end.

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Week in Review

100 miles
11 runs
17-mile long run
2 runs with Dad
1 5k victory
3 Frappuccinos

By all accounts, this was a successful return to high mileage after last week's relative break. I'm still equally pleased and perplexed by Thursday's near-PR 5k despite having done no tangible workouts in several months. Heck, I ran a full five seconds faster than at the BAA 5k in April--arguably a faster course and better weather--when I was crushing 5k and 10k workouts left and right. If anything, Thursday reinforced my commitment to stay the course with this "Summer of Malmo" training for at least another month. I feel surprisingly fit and stronger by the day, and I can only imagine how this will benefit me in the fall if I can stay healthy and stick with it.

Tied with the 5k for the best part of this week's training was the weekend mileage with my dad. Jordan and I had a great time hosting my parents in our new condo and showing them some of our favorite spots in Salem. Unfortunately, despite my assurances about the mild New England summer, the miserably hot and humid weather indigent to my home state seemed to have followed my parents across the country. For my dad, who has suffered through countless sweltering runs over the past few months, I'd hoped Mother Nature would provide a much-needed reprieve. Instead he was forced to slog through a few tough morning runs, which he did without (much) complaining because he's pretty darn tough. Weather aside, as always it was a treat to share some miles with him.

I'd love to continue sharing my thoughtful recap and training musings, but I've got to go eat some ice cream. All this running is making me hungry, and tomorrow will bring more of the same. Time to top off the tank!

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Week in Review

100 miles
3 doubles
20 mile long run
20k tempo run
2 runs with Pops
4 AFDs

Praise the Lord, I finally hit 100! The majority of the week was about as un-glamorous as any in recent memory, as I completed more runs on treadmills and by the light of my headlamp than I ever care to again. But where there's a will there's a way--and if that way has to come via a 38+ mile Saturday and Sunday, then so be it. That's right, I followed up Saturday's tempo run with an even longer (albeit much slower) run with Jordan and Dad on Sunday morning. Despite sleeping in for the second consecutive day, Sunday mid-morning brought literally breathtakingly cold weather, the first of its kind since we moved here. With an actual temperature of 20 and a wind chill in the single digits, it took a lot of mental fortitude and about a gallon of coffee to push the three of us out the door. (Trust me, any time you have to strap on this glove you know things are serious.) Two and a half hours later I was very nearly frozen solid and I couldn't feel my legs (which given the circumstances isn't necessarily a bad thing), but at least I got in the miles. At the beginning of this training cycle I wouldn't have even considered attempting a 20-miler immediately on the heels of an 18-mile workout, but by now it's almost feeling routine.

Mileage aside, the most important part of the weekend was spending time with my parents. Jordan and I had a great time showing them our charming New England town and hosting them in one of the fort's ocean view guest bedrooms. (Have I mentioned we have guest bedrooms? And that we want you to come and visit?? Please do!) Though unfortunately we won't be able to spend the official Christmas holiday with them, we will be reunited again in just four short weeks when they come cheer me on in Houston. While my mom may have single-handedly derailed our newfound gluten-free lifestyle with the siren's call of donuts and flapjacks, I don't recall either of us complaining. Life's too short to miss out on good food and good people, and we enjoyed plenty of both this weekend--in between a few miles, of course.

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20k Tempo Success

2.5 mile w/u
Target: 12 miles @6:05-6:10
Actual: 20k @6:05 pace (1:15:52)
19:10 for 5k; 38:05 for 10k; 57:10 for 15k; last 5k @18:42
3 mile c/d
Total: 18 miles

First things first: Jordan actually said he was impressed with my workout. Out loud. And better yet, in writing. This is unprecedented, folks. I'm tempted to just leave it there and call it a day for this blog entry. However, since I know you're dying to continue reading, I'll share a bit of insight into how the workout went down.

For starters, it was a rare treat to sleep in. I woke up before 5am on Friday morning to slog through 10 miles on the hotel treadmill in Nashville--for the record, this was the same treadmill I'd had the pleasure of getting acquainted with less than 10 hours prior--and then booked it to the airport for an early flight. I arrived back home in Boston just in time to greet my parents, who were flying in to visit for the weekend. So not only did I get to sleep in until 7:30--!!!!--on Saturday, but I had the pleasure of lounging around with Jordan and the 'rents until almost 9:00 drinking coffee and catching up. When we finally did suit up for this morning's effort, my dad eagerly tagged along. He wouldn't be attempting the hard effort, but with a nice warmup through town and down the causeway we were able to give him directions for the Neck loop and back home. With many miles of hard work ahead of us, we wouldn't see him again for several hours.

From the outset, I knew it was in my interest to simply fall in step behind Jordan and let him dictate the pace. His queenmaking skills haven't let me down yet, and today would be no different. So even though the first rolling loop of the Neck felt like a jog, I resisted the temptation to ask him to speed things up. With over 75 minutes of hard running required, no heroes would be made in the first 5k. During the second loop I still felt terrific aerobically, though the constantly undulating terrain began to take a bit of a toll on my legs. We exited the Neck into a stiff headwind along the causeway somewhere between 11 and 12k, and at that point I told myself I only (only?) had less than 8k to run. We'd decided in advance to make up this distance with a simple out-and-back on Atlantic, headed first in the Swampscott direction and then returning back to our original starting point near the Neck. This section was nowhere near as hilly as the Neck, but I soon found out it consisted of a lot of false flats and gradual grades. The wind proved even more cruel than the terrain, seeming to shift its diabolical aim every time we turned expecting a reprieve. I was lucky to have Jordan out front, but his 135-pound frame can only do so much.

With 1k to go, we turned back onto Beach for a truly flat final stretch out to the causeway. This was when Jordan told me I was running well enough to "earn" a bonus 12th kilometer. Awesome. Actually I was still feeling surprisingly strong, but that didn't stop me from gasping out to him that I didn't want to be forced to finish uphill on the Neck. He replied, "Don't worry, you'll stop just at the base." As it turned out, he was wrong by about 100 meters. The last minute of the final kilometer was agonizing as I tried to push the pace uphill, somehow managing to finish with the fastest split of the day. (See Jordan's recap for all the gory numerical details.)

Even without looking at the numbers, I was pleased with how today went based on the perceived effort alone. I'm in the middle of my highest mileage week of the entire cycle and straight off a travel day, not to mention the terrain and conditions of today's course are much more difficult than I'll face in a month's time. In looking at the splits, I consistently got faster throughout each 5k and finished the final segment at or just below six-minute pace. That said, when I look at the big picture it's almost incomprehensible to think that I'll need to run an additional 22k at this pace in order to achieve anything close to my goal time at the Trials. I'll just have to trust that my fitness, combined with an appropriate taper and the energy of the competitive atmosphere, will be enough to make me swift on my feet when the time comes.

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13.1 Dallas Race Recap

~1.5 mile w/u
13.1 miles @1:19:58*
3rd female, $250; Results
Total: 14-15 miles
*includes bathroom break (oops)

As is always the case at 13.1 races, I was up way too early for a Saturday morning to help set up the Craft and Karhu tents. Fortunately my parents arrived yesterday, which means I was able to stay with them at the Marriott mere blocks from the start instead of at the ghetto LaQuinta with the external rooms where I had the pleasure of sleeping with one eye open on Wednesday and Thursday. So I got to sleep in until the indulgent hour of 4:45, which was lovely.

Immediately upon stepping outside into the early morning darkness, I was chagrined to discover that the air was significantly warmer and more humid than any other day since my Wednesday arrival. Earlier in the week I'd run in capris and long sleeves, but with the temperature hovering around 65 and a humidity percentage in the 80s, I was already uncomfortable in my lightweight jacket. This did not bode well for my upcoming race performance, but there wasn't exactly anything I could do about it. I jogged over to the start/finish area and spent the next 90 minutes setting up our space and preparing for a morning of sales. Before I knew it there were fewer than 30 minutes until the start which left little time for dawdling. I quickly warmed up with my friend Andrew, then hustled over to a construction site with the hopes of finding a port-a-potty without a line 30 deep. Victory attained, I stripped down to my skivvies under the Karhu tent and then made my way to the start. I recognized several familiar faces from my previous time in the DFW running community, as well as a few speedy ladies who I knew would be contending for the prize purse. One was Melissa Cook, a multiple-time All-American from Texas A&M and a multiple-time Olympic Trials qualifier as well. She's been around for years and is legit. I also spotted Justyna Mudy, whom I recognized from her 1:17 performance on the horrific hills of 13.1 Atlanta a few weeks ago. No question they were both fit, and likely out of my league. I spotted a few other potential contenders but was confident I could run with anyone else in the field.

Once the race began, it quickly became apparent that the placing would be anticlimactic, at least from my perspective. A relaxed 5:58 first mile put me at least 20 seconds behind Melissa and Justyna and the same distance ahead of all the other women in the field. Though a considerable gap would form on either side of me as the race progressed, my placement would not. Around mile 2 I caught up to a group of guys and inquired if I could tuck in for a few miles. "Sure!" they enthusiastically replied before sprinting off and leaving me alone once again. For much of the race this is how I would remain, though I didn't mind much. Years of living in this area enabled me to recognize almost every street on the course, which was surprisingly comforting. Though my legs were heavy, my breathing felt calm and relaxed, and I made it through the early miles by repeatedly reminding myself that the Katy Trail section would begin at mile 7. This would mean a straight, gradual downhill for almost four miles, and I knew I could use that real estate to make up for some slower early miles as we gradually meandered to the top of the trail.

During mile 9, however, a situation arose. Had my personal race been closer, had a championship of some sort been on the line, perhaps I would have tried to fight through it. Instead, with several minutes separating me from the next woman on either side, I didn't think twice about scampering into a port-a-potty near the side of the trail a few minutes later. Ironically, my split of 6:26 for this mile (including the stop), my slowest of the day, would've actually been my fastest had the brief detour not been necessary. Oh well. Mentally the break did nothing to dampen my spirits as I knew the finish line was within reach, and once we exited the trail near the American Airlines Center I had no doubt that I could push through for two more miles. It certainly didn't help that the last of those miles was almost entirely uphill, the steepest and longest grade in any direction on the course, and with mere minutes to go I got passed by two guys who had been trailing me for the entire race. I desperately tried to latch onto them, succeeding for a few strides, before watching helplessly as they pulled away. Frustrated, I almost shut things down and shuffled in until I rounded the final turn and saw that I could still edge under the 1:20 barrier. I crossed the line just a few ticks under, happy to set a new (admittedly weak) PR and score a few bucks. The last time I raced a half in Dallas was at the 2007 White Rock Half-Marathon, when I was pleased to run 1:26:30 and just barely miss a then-personal best. It's easy to get discouraged now when the top women finish leagues ahead of me, but looking at how far I've come helps put things in perspective.


Karhu Sisu congratulates me, Melissa and Justyna

But enough about me. Let's discuss the real noteworthy Nedlo performance of the day, that of my dad John. Not only did J-Ned win his age group, but he also ran his fastest time in years, a blistering 1:36. Oh, and did I mention he is 62?! Simply incredible. I wish I could've seen the faces of the guys half his age as he left them in his dust. After several years of struggling with injury and motivation, rarely breaking 1:45 in his half-marathon attempts, my dad has finally been able to string together an entire year of solid training (and, not coincidentally, an entire year of solid training in Karhus), enabling him to absolutely crush his goal for the day. Congrats, Dad!


Me, Andrew and my coworker Tinley slinging shoes post-race

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Who Says You Can't Go Home

One of the perks of my amazing job is the almost constant opportunity to run with different people in new and exciting places. Because I happened to be traveling this week to Texas and Oklahoma--the former being the state where I grew up and the latter being where I spent a summer with Jordan a few years back--this week's running was made extra amazing due to the amount of familiar faces I had the pleasure of seeing.

My first stop, Austin, brought 90+ degree temperatures and, not coincidentally, several days of pre-5:30am wake-ups. On Tuesday morning I hosted a wear test run at Luke's Locker and enjoyed some miles around the Lone Star capitol and Town Lake with some store staff and customers. Wednesday morning found me at the same place, same time for a track workout at a nearby high school. I was fortunate enough to tag along with several of the aforementioned Luke's crew who were also planning a trip to the oval, and though their workout was neither the same pace nor the same rest as mine I still benefited from their presence and encouragement as I pushed through the palpably humid air. On the jog over to the track I met a Luke's runner who shared her incredible story of losing over 100 pounds in the past year, solely through the old-fashioned method of drastically changing her diet and training for her first half-marathon. 100 pounds--can you imagine?! She said she went to pick her dad up from the airport a few months ago and he literally walked by her without a sliver of recognition. This young woman was eager to talk to me about my training and my Trials preparation, but I was quick to assure her with complete sincerity that her progression was much more remarkable and inspiring than mine. Stories like hers make me fall in love with the running community all over again.

Speaking of the Trials, however, while in Austin I also had the opportunity to catch up with Allison Macsas, my roomie from Houston Meltdown 2011. Allison, who runs for Team Rogue Elite, missed the Trials standard by a heartbreaking 30 seconds on that day but just last week redeemed herself with a sub-2:45 in Vancouver. Team Rogue Elite coaches Ruth England and Steve Sisson (who is also the head women's coach at Texas) graciously invited me into their home along with the rest of the female Team Rogue Elite contingent for an evening of delicious wine and food and conversation. As is inevitable with a group of runners, the conversation eventually drifted back to training, and I remained mostly quiet as I listened to Steve espousing his own pearls of wisdom. The one sentiment that stuck with me the most was his notion of "checking off all the boxes" every day. He rightfully believes that one day or one workout isn't any more significant than those that come in line before it or after it, but rather that the sum total of continued consistent training ultimately moves mountains. If you go to bed each night secure in the knowledge that you've "checked off all the boxes" of that day's training--whether it be running, stretching, core, weights, fueling, massage, whatever--then you can rest easy knowing you've done everything you need to do in order to add one more drop in your fitness bucket. For someone like me, this perspective is both challenging and comforting. Challenging because my work and travel schedule often means the only box I check off is hastily stretching a hammy or calf muscle while hurrying through a frantic post-run shower, but also comforting because it means that greatness can be achieved in small increments and gradual accumulations.

As my trip brought me further north to Ft. Worth, the influx of familiar faces continued in earnest. Thursday afternoon I took in an easy afternoon double around the Rivercrest Country Club with my friend and former training partner Cindy. It was just like old times--plus one small addition, as on this day I was also pushing her almost-two-year-old daughter Ellie in the baby jogger. This was my first baby jogger experience, one that left my upper arms sore for several days, and I finished the run absolutely awed by people like Mike Beigay and Mike Kahn who can click off sub-6 miles with their kidlets in tow. Friday morning found me once again running on the familiar Trinity River Trails, only this time with another old training buddy Megan Skeels. A former high school stud (her Texas Relays two-mile record stood for over 15 years) and Arkansas standout, Skeels also went the motherhood route and put her running on hold for a few years before returning to the sport with the marathon Trials in her sights. After a disappointing finish in Houston (noticing a Houston pattern here?) and an agonizingly close 2:46:30 in Eugene a few weeks ago, she may re-train her sights on the half-marathon qualifying time this summer. Whichever route she chooses, I have no doubt she'll be toeing the line with me in Houston in 2012.


Ellie showing off her new Karhus (and her undies...oops!)

At this point you're probably thinking my week of reunion runs must be drawing to a close. Hardly! I was borderline giddy on Friday afternoon as I continued northbound toward Norman, OK and the famed OK Runner shoe purveyors. Jordan worked at OK Runner for almost three years while he was in grad school, and we both consider the entire crew (including Luna Bar-loving pup Lance) to be family. Returning to Norman brought back a flood of memories from the amazing summer that Jordan and I spent living in a crappy apartment above Mr. Roberts Furniture on Main Street. Back then our days consisted of little more than running, slinging shoes, running some more and savoring warm and windy evenings of laughter with friends. (Come to think of it, that's pretty much what our lives are like now too. Sweet!) Norman might not be many people's idea of summer vacation, but the company we kept made every moment enjoyable. I was lucky enough to spend some time with a few of those people this weekend--Scotty, Jerry, Jason, Kristi, Aja, Craig and Jenny, to name a few--and even put in some miles together around town. On Saturday afternoon I experienced what I might consider to be the singular most random encounter of my entire life, during which I ran into my mom's former college roommate in the bathroom of Jason's Deli. The randomness was further compounded by the fact that neither of us live anywhere remotely close to Norman and have not seen each other in about five years, so needless to say it was quite the pleasant surprise! (In the course of our hasty catch-up conversation--which, yes, also took place in the bathroom--I learned that Tina actually reads this blog. Since she is quite an accomplished writer this means I will have to take measures to step up my prosaic game going forward.)


Lance the OK Runner guard dog hard at work

Though every single one of the moments described above made my heart happy, the run on this trip I enjoyed the most took place this morning with my dad. For the final leg of my trip I met my parents in Plano for a post-Mother's Day dinner and hotel sleepover, and this morning I took my dad on a tour of the crushed gravel path on the Frito-Lay campus that Jordan and I discovered a few months ago. At the tender age of 62, my dad ran a blazing sub-22 minute 5k yesterday after hovering in the 22's and 23's for the past year or so. Even more remarkable, we averaged right around 8:15 pace for his long run today, which meant he ran just over a minute per mile slower than his race pace! I hope I'm still running when I'm his age, much less still improving, and it was fun to catch up as we clicked off the miles together.

So that pretty much sums it up--only not at all. It's not exactly possible to articulate how blessed I feel to be able to reunite with so many friends and family in the course of a week, all while getting paid to talk about the sport and the brands I love every day with fellow runners and athletes. Home is where the heart is, as the axiom goes, and this trip brought the realization that I am lucky enough to have several homes and many companions with which to share them.

It's a good feeling.

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MPHS Track Workout

2.5 mile w/u + strides
Target: 2400, 2000, 1600, 1200, 800 w/400 jog; start @6:00 pace and cut down
Actual: 8:55 (5:57 through mile); 7:20 (5:52); 5:43; 4:11; 2:42 = 37:20 for 6 miles
2 mile c/d
Total: 10-10.5 miles

Just before bed last night, no doubt wrapped snuggly in a tryptophan-induced haze, my dad asked Jordan and me if we'd like to accompany him to the Mt. Pleasant High School track in the morning. Pops is gearing up for a five-person relay at the White Rock Marathon next weekend and was looking to put the finishing touches on his speedwork. While I'm a tad embarrassed to admit I probably wouldn't have come up with the idea on my own, I was actually happy to acquiese. I'm finally beginning to shake the grips of my cough and cold, so I might as well try to salvage the week of running if at all possible. We said goodnight early and agreed to an 8am departure time.

In contrast to the preceding days in Texas, Friday dawned crisp and startlingly cold. Since our 70-degree rainy run yesterday, temperatures had fallen steadily toward the 30-degree mark, which is where the mercury was hovering this morning. For my purposes, the chilly air meant it wasn't sensible to attempt any short, speedy intervals; instead, Coach Jordan advised a backward ladder starting at just six-minute pace for a mile and a half. It sounded pretty doable.

From the outset, I could tell things would be okay. Not great, not groundbreaking, but fine enough given my slight chest congestion and the residual Nyquil still lingering in my system. Jordan agreed to set the pace, which meant that save for a few laps I wasn't required to do much thinking. It also meant that I wouldn't have to fight the headwind on the backstretch, as his ample girth was more than sturdy enough to block it for me. Those two factors were no doubt the strongest contributors to my comfort level during the workout today, as only on the final two intervals did I ever feel like I was laboring. I was surprised to see that the entire workout totaled just over 37 minutes, which means that even including the four easy "recovery" laps I managed to average sub-6:15 pace for six miles. Active recovery isn't something I did much of while working out at Queens, but Jordan has emphasized it in all my recent workouts. It makes things tougher, but I can definitely see the potential benefits.

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Turkey Trot Meets Great Flood

1 hour 40 mins.
12 miles

While many of my friends in Charlotte, Atlanta and Dallas were lacing up their boots for a formalized Turkey Trot, Jordan and I were meeting up with my dad in the kitchen of my parents' East Texas home to drink some coffee in preparation for our own trot of sorts. Though no such official event exists in the Piney Woods region, my dad nonetheless assembled over a dozen of his friends and fellow local runners to partake in an early morning pre-feast run. Naturally, Jordan and I were the featured celebrity guests, which no doubt accounted for the unusually high attendance.

The sky was just beginning to lighten as we set off down the country roads, naturally clumping into several different pace groups. Jordan and I planned to run a half hour or so with the group before splitting off to lengthen the route. The odds of doubling after the Thanksgiving feast were nil, which meant we needed to get in a respectable distance this morning. So, after 30 or so minutes of shuffling along with the geezers (kidding, Dad), we picked up the pace and struck out on our own. In retrospect, our decision might not have been the most prudent, but we could hardly know that at the time. The first few ominous sprinkles were just beginning to fall as we waved goodbye to our fellow trotters.

Within what seemed like seconds, that all changed. Rain began to fall; steady but pleasant at first, then gradually swelling to an almost deafening crescendo of water. To make matters worse, for the next few miles we were running directly into a headwind, which made the droplets feel like tiny shards of glass pelting our exposed skin. Every time I thought it couldn't rain any harder, it did. At one point I literally turned and ran sideways because the water was flooding my contact lenses to the point of near blindness. The ground, previously dry, became a flash flood in minutes, and at certain points Jordan and I were tromping through ankle deep puddles. To say this made for an uncomfortable middle section of the run would be putting it mildly.

And then, just as abruptly as it began, the deluge stopped. Even more incredibly, it was replaced by what I swear was two-thirds of a double rainbow. A double rainbow, people! We weren't quite as excited about it as this guy, but nonetheless it was a pretty amazing sight. Even more bizarre was the curtain of rain that seemed to dance back and forth just a few meters in front of us, pelting a few square feet at a time before moving on to new territory. We found ourselves briefly soaked again as we ran through its pocket, but were on the other side again in just a few seconds. Mercifully, the rest of the run was dry and uneventful, and my dad even had fresh donuts waiting for us upon our return. My legs weren't terribly banged up, but my body was as exhausted as if it had just endured a natural disaster. Thank goodness there was nothing on tap for the remainder of the day except eating turkey, drinking homemade pumpkin spice lattes and watching the Cowboys lose. After such a crazy morning, I don't think I could handle any more Thanksgiving excitement.

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Uptown Run 8k

2 mile w/u
Target: 8k race @don't drop out, don't embarrass the brands
Actual: 29:57 (5:58, 5:54, 6:07, 5:54, 6:03)
2nd place female, 4th place overall
2 mile c/d
Total: ~9 miles

I must admit, I had literally no idea what to expect going into this race. This is only my fourth week back running, and since I hurt my foot at Greek Fest two months ago I've done exactly zero workouts. Wait, I take that back--I did two strides after my run at White Rock Lake yesterday. Does that count? As you can imagine, this type of race preparation doesn't exactly inspire self-confidence. But, given that I was already going to be at the Uptown Run working the Craft and Karhu tent, I figured I might as well take advantage of the free entry and try to earn some exposure for the two brands.

Contrary to the weather that my Charlottean friends have been enjoying this week, the weather in Dallas is warm, muggy and windy. When I left my parents' hotel room at 5:30 this morning it was 72 degrees and 88% humidity. I knew it wouldn't exactly be ideal racing weather, but to be honest that was the least of my worries. At the top of the list? Not going out too fast, not dying and not embarrassing myself, in that order. I honestly had no idea how my body would respond to a pace it hadn't so much as hinted at in several months, but I didn't exactly have anything to lose by lacing up the boots. Might as well give it a shot.

I warmed up just after 7am with Brett, a new friend of mine who works at Lukes; Andrew, an old friend of mine I haven't seen in a few years; and Dawn, a speedy local runner who I knew would be the woman to beat. (Turns out she was almost the man to beat too, but I'll get to that in a minute.) I spotted my pops (representing with his Karhus) and our family friends who'd also come up for the race, but there wasn't much time to chat. After warming up and waiting in line for 10 minutes for the bathroom there wasn't even time for a few strides before lining up at the starting line. Ready or not, it was time to test out these rusty legs of mine.

The gun sounded promptly at 8:00 and we were off in the Uptown direction. Within the first 800 meters it became apparent that, simply put, there were no fast dudes in the race. My friend Andrew was just tempoing the thing and he was already far ahead of the next male, with Dawn and myself close behind. Allow me to say again just so we're clear: Dawn (a girl) and me (another girl) were in third and fourth place overall. This would not change for the remainder of the race. Now guys, I get it that there was no prize money to be had and that the Uptown Run no longer carries the prestige it once did (hence why it will become a 13.1 race next year). But seriously? We girls weren't exactly running world beating times here, so it was a bit of a surprise (at least to me) to find ourselves front and center from the gun.

Approaching the first mile marker, I still had no idea of my pace, but I was relieved to find myself feeling somewhat comfortable. Seeing 5:58 on the clock gave me a slight confidence boost and armed me with the conviction that I could finish in a respectable time. At this point Dawn was only a few meters ahead and I harbored some hopes of her coming back, but midway through the second mile she started to pull away. Unsure as to how my body would respond as the race progressed, I was hesitant to follow. I kept reminding myself to stay relaxed and focused and to take the race one mile at a time. Sure enough, the second marker loomed before I was expecting it, and I was pleased to see a slightly faster split accompanying the downhill mile. The third mile was a series of turns and a gradual incline, and at that point I felt my legs and breathing begin to labor. Dawn had pulled even farther ahead and I was right in the middle of no man's land, flanked by the Uptown buildings and accompanied by a brisk headwind. Things had the potential to go downhill fast if I didn't keep myself together. Fortunately the fourth mile was solely flat to downhill, which meant I was afforded the opportunity to accelerate slightly while collecting myself mentally. Just past the fourth mile marker was a 180-degree turn and the promise of retracing the hill we'd just coasted down, which made for a physically and mentally draining final mile. With 600 meters to go I made the final turn--no thanks to the cop who allowed me to run five meters off course before halfheartedly calling after me to turn around--and could see the finish line straight ahead, and a quick glance at my watch confirmed that I could dip under 30 minutes if I hustled in. I made it with just a few seconds to spare, hot and exhausted but also pleasantly surprised at my performance.

Without question, the positive takeaway from this effort is that all has not been lost over the past few months. I've obviously forfeited a bit of fitness but not nearly as much as I'd feared. Houston Marathon is a full 13 weeks away, which should be plenty of time to whip myself into respectable shape. I view today's race as a great starting point on the path toward much bigger and better things.

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D2 Indoor Nationals: Day 1

AM: 45 mins. (6 miles) + strength
PM: Meet

And we're off to the races! Today was the first day of the national meet, and I was front and center for most of it. We started the day with a nice relaxed run along the river--it was as flat and sunny and perfect as yesterday, and I loved every minute of it. Tanya and I ran the first half of this run with Jenna, then parted ways with her at the turnaround as she had a tempo run planned for the second half. We ran into Coach Simmons and his friend Mike Hillyard, the coach at Southern Indiana, a few minutes later and joined up with Mike for the rest of the run. He joked that he was going to gradually work the pace down to wear us out before the race, as we will be competing against his best athlete tomorrow night (Mary Ballinger, the 2009 outdoor steeplechase champ). Fortunately Tanya and I were too smart to fall for his scheme, and refused to run faster than 7:20 pace for the rest of the run.

I headed over to the meet early in the afternoon, as my parents had arrived in town and were waiting for me at the convention center. Huge props to John and Sharon for not only flying out for my race, but also sitting through countless races they had absolutely no interest in just to spend some time with me. Oh, and for buying my dinner too. Thanks, Mom and Dad!


Simon on the starting line (far right)

Now back to the meet: Simon was the first Queens athlete up to the proverbial plate, and he took off just past 4:30pm for the second heat of the mile. Three athletes would automatically advance from each heat, plus the next three overall on time. This meant that only three athletes would be cut from the finals. Simon was stoked when he found out yesterday that he would be in the second heat, as the first heat is usually notoriously slow, but unfortunately things didn't go to plan today. Apparently Adams State wanted to make sure all six of their guys advanced automatically, because the three of them in the first heat shot out like cannonballs--on 4-minute pace through 600 meters--breaking the rest of the field and finishing in 4:10. The final runner in the first heat finished in 4:13--much faster than Simon wanted the race to go--and as a result he was forced to run for his life from the gun. He did his best but couldn't respond when the pace changed at halfway and struggled to a 4:16 finish. He would not go on to the finals.


Nelson preparing for his race

Next up was Nelson in the 800. Also in the second heat, he would have the advantage of seeing those before him. The first heat wasn't as slow as he'd hoped, but wasn't untouchable either, and I knew Nelson would have a chance to advance if he ran smart. Though he didn't end up running one of his fastest times, he competed well and hung on when the pack kicked the final lap. He nabbed the 9th and final spot for tomorrow's finals, which means he will claim All-American honors if he can beat one guy.



The rest of the meet was fairly predictable. Adams destroyed the field in the men's DMR, and Jessica Pixler ran down Neely Spence to earn Seattle Pacific the women's DMR title. Tanya and I watched this race with interest, as several of our competitors for tomorrow night were competing in tonight's DMR. Naturally, we're hoping they're all too exhausted from their efforts today to challenge for the top spots tomorrow. Could be wishful thinking, but I'm going to run with it. Pun intended.

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On the Road Again

AM: 45 mins. ellip.
PM: 27 mins. (~3.5 miles)
10 mins. stretching

My parents' brief time in Palm Springs is drawing to a close, which meant that Jordan, Gary and I piled into the car with them today to deliver them back to Ontario airport. Then we thought, hey, we're already halfway to San Diego. Let's just go there. Coincidentally we already had all of our stuff packed so the plan worked out splendidly, and within several hours we had bid my parents farewell and were en route to the Hillcrest neighborhood. I was disappointed that my dad wasn't able to run with me while he was here--he was experiencing some old-person back problems--but at the same time I was glad to take the morning off today so that I'd have a chance to run in Balboa Park later this afternoon.

Though it's been a year since our last visit, things looked much the same in the surrounding neighborhoods upon our arrival. I'm excited to spend the next few days visiting some familiar locales, catching up with friends, running in Balboa Park, and perhaps even visiting some tourist attractions we haven't gotten around to yet (zoo, anyone?). Stay classy, San Diego!

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Tram!

AM: 15 mins. ellip.
43 mins. (6 miles)



The long-awaited visit to the top of the tram has finally arrived. Jordan and I rose early and were out the door by 7am to fit in our run before the day's festivities began. JSK cooked up a delicious breakfast for everyone, thus ensuring that our energy stores would be topped off and at peak operating levels so we could fully enjoy the aerial experience to come. At 10am on the dot our party of four (me, Jordy and my parents) set off with one destination in mind: the top of the mountain.


Mom and I on the tram car

Things were already hopping when we reached the base of the tram, and I was somewhat surprised that we had to wait over 30 minutes after purchasing our tickets before boarding the car. (After our descent several hours later, I would discover that things got much, much crazier as the day progressed). Just before 11:20 we were finally called, and before I knew it we were crammed onto the tram car with 80 of our newest friends.


Making our way to the top!


Jordy, me and Mom at the top--that's snow on the rocks behind us.

The ascent lasted 10 minutes and was breathtaking. Though the tram has been in operation since the '60s, they recently added cars that rotate while the tram rises. This makes for a very unique experience, as you are able to catch glimpses from every angle during the 360-degree rotations. Once we arrived at the top, the mountain was ours for exploration. We spent some time watching people cavort in the snow--that's right, there was both snow and pine trees at the top; not your typical Palm Springs scenery--before wandering off to another lookout point to enjoy an expansive view of Palm Springs and the surrounding valley. We'd definitely picked the right day to come, as the sky was strikingly blue and crystal clear. Before I'd realized it an hour had passed and we were ready to make our descent. I can say without hesitation that the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway was worth the wait (and worth the $87 it cost our party--thanks, Dad!) and that I have finally fulfilled the mission I set out to accomplish many months ago.


Panoramic view from the top

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Post-Christmas Double

AM: 15 mins. ellip.
43 mins. (6 miles)
PM: 26 mins. (~3.5 miles)
2x20 water pump extensions=80
10 mins. stretching

Although I'm writing this only two days after the fact, I can't remember much about this day. I know it included lots of family time (insert shout-out to my dad here) and some post-Christmas shopping at the Cabazon outlets. Oh, and Jordy and I enjoyed a nice evening run at our favorite golf course. Tomorrow promises to be an even grander time, as we've planned a trip to the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway. I've been bugging Jordan to take me on the tram since the first time we came here and he has yet to acquiese. Well he might not do it, but I know my loving parents will. Stay tuned for full coverage of my dream being realized.

Ohhhh, now I remember why this day was significant (other than the parental bonding): it was the first day I doubled since the day before Nationals, which was the first day I doubled since I got injured in early August. So yeah, it was a pretty big deal.

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Farewell to Canadia

67 mins.
8-8.5 miles

I was up and on my feet early this morning to put in a few miles before heading to the first of many airports. I ventured back down to the seawall where I'd run the day before the race, heading out and back in just about 32 minutes. Once back at the hotel I met up with my dad and Tim, who were hoping to put in a short jaunt as well, so we set off at a relaxed pace for the rest of the run.


Pedestrian path along the seawall

To break things up a bit, I suggested we head out over the Burrard Street bridge (which had been my nemesis on Sunday) and over to Granville Island, a touristy but nice area filled with restaurants, street vendors, a farmers market and other shops. Taking a spin around the island and returning to the hotel put us at almost exactly four miles, which made it a perfect point to finish up the run.


My (least) favorite bridge in all of Vancouver

The rest of my day was spent airport hopping, as I enjoyed some quality time in YVR (yay for customs), Denver and DFW before finally returning home to Norman just before 10pm. Vancouver '09 was a rousing success, and I hope to go back again sometime soon.

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Cross-Training and Sightseeing

45 mins. ellip.
15 mins. core

As predicted, I woke up this morning with my fair share of aches and pains, the most insistent of which was my lower right leg. Somewhere around mile 10 of the race I began to feel the beginnings of a horrendous blood blister on the metatarsal head between my first and second toe, so I inadvertently spent the rest of the race trying to avoid it. Naturally, I also favored the outside of my foot for the entire two-mile walk home after the race, which certainly didn't help. At any rate, I was content to take the day off from running and instead pay a visit to the hotel fitness center.

The majority of the afternoon was spent sightseeing with my parents, which was nice and relaxing (although not nearly as relaxing as the one-hour massage I got later at the spa across the street--thanks Dad!). Vancouver is truly a beautiful city, very clean and lush with greenery, and of course the expansive mountain and water backdrop serve to complete the picture. It's too bad I have to go home tomorrow, because I could definitely grow accustomed to this.

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