#conradical Week in Review

50-51 miles
14-mile long run with Emily
90 minutes of hot yoga
5 AFDs

Despite the fact that I still only logged half as many miles as a "normal" week, I do feel like I got my life back on track to a reasonable degree. As it turns out, barely running affords plenty of time for luxuries like stretching, core work and even yoga, all of which have been vigorously performed with the goal of zipping up my bridesmaid dress for Caitlin's wedding a mere two weeks from now.

Though everything about it runs contrary to the objectives I just outlined, I will admit that I had a great time at the #conradical pub crawl hosted by Terry and Carly on behalf of the BAA on Saturday. It was pretty #conradical to see everyone in civilian attire as opposed to sweaty running clothes. (As a result, I only recognized 1/3 of the faces I spoke to.) On a related note, apparently it takes more than six people with a collective total of 1000 Twitter followers to generate enough momentum for something like #conradical to start trending. But, rest assured, not for lack of trying.

OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I LOST 50 POUNDS ON THE #CONRADICAL DIET! 




Still nothing? Damn.

Read More

Week in Review

55 miles
0 days off
4 days in Texas
2? AFDs

I figured I'd hit somewhere around 40 this week and was surprised to add up the final tally. I didn't feel great at any point but that's to be expected thanks to a lingering cold and an uncharacteristic rock-star lifestyle. Next week I pledge to try to get my life back on track.

Read More

The Running Event: Indie 5k

2-3 mile w/u + strides
Target: win
Actual: 5th place, 17:05
Results
3-4 mile c/d
Total: ~10 miles

If you've never been to The Running Event, it really is difficult to describe. I've heard it labeled the four most important days of the year in the running industry, which is debatable. One thing is certain, however; there's really no other event within the span of a year that brings together everyone involved in the business of running, from local independent retailers and their employees to brand reps to media outlets to elite runners. Hell, even LetsRun.com's Wejo made the trip down to Austin for a few days. Regardless of your purpose or perspective, most attendees view TRE as the confluence of a lot of work, a little bit of running, even less sleep, and drinking. Lots of drinking. All of this makes it all the more remarkable that the Indie 5k, a quiet, non-prize money race open only to TRE participants and held at the crack of dawn on a super hilly course on a weekday morning, is arguably one of the most competitive per capita races in the country.

Last year, no one was as surprised as me to see myself crowned the "Fastest Vendor in America" with a relatively pedestrian 17:22 winning time. This year, despite marathon fatigue still lingering in my legs, I hoped to repeat my title. Having done practically nothing faster than a jog since my 5k cross-country outing the day after Thanksgiving, I wasn't super optimistic. My already tepid confidence waned even further as I spotted at least a handful of other legit-looking women on the starting line. Not wanting to endure his own soul-crushing defeat at the hands of Bobby Mack, Mike Morgan, Andrew Leatherby and who knows how many other ridiculously fit guys (some companies actually fly in their ringers for the sole purpose of earning bragging rights at the race), Jordan gamely offered to drag me along. I had no idea if it would help from a physical perspective, but I was hardly in a position to say no.

To be honest, I could share a minute-by-minute recap of the race, but I'd rather not. Not because it's particularly embarrassing, but merely because there's nothing exciting about detailing the myriad ways that every passing minute felt harder and crappier than the previous one. Simply put, I'm tired. And, despite my refusal to admit it, sick. I knew that going in, and I still pushed as hard as I could, but there was really nothing more for me to give.

The irony, of course, is that I ran over 15 seconds faster than last year, essentially tying my 5k road PR in the process, and yet still finished in an underwhelming 5th place. (The results above are split into three categories; manufacturers (i.e., brands like Karhu), retailers (running store employees), and owners (store and manufacturer owners). Technically I could've still retained my title of "fastest retailer in America" had I won the manufacturer category and still lost overall, but as it happens the top 1-5 women all hailed from the same category. Awesome.)

Going into this race, my only goal was to win. Afterward, however, I was more bummed that I'd once again come so close to dipping below 17 minutes on the road and yet still fallen short. I immediately asked Jordan if I could hop into a faster, flatter road race back home in Boston before the end of the year, a notion he instantly shot down. My season, says the coach, is over.

I'm not going to lie; I pouted for a few unattractive seconds. Then we jogged back to the hotel with men's winner and fellow North Carolinian Bobby Mack, and then I spread the gospel of Karhu and Craft all day, and then I cultivated a raging hangover for the following morning courtesy of the Brooks party and all the free booze on the expo floor. And maybe this was just the cheap white wine talking, but by the end of the day the Indie 5k was already a distant memory.

Read More

Week in Review

38ish miles
2 days off
4 days in NC
0 AFDs

Epic life week. Horrific running week. Thank goodness that's as it should be right now. Have I mentioned I'm so glad I picked a mid-November marathon??

Read More

Caitlin's Bachelorette Weekend in Pictures

I'm surprising Caitlin at her bachelorette party! Rule #1: find a good hiding spot. This one wasn't quite right.

Then my partner in crime found the perfect thing: a child-size (aka my size) stocking!

This is me (plus three pillows) in "the sack." Caitlin arrived to open her present...

...and SURPRISE! Sweet lord, was it hot in there.

A toast to the beautiful bride-to-be (and to me not suffocating).

Because Saturday morning of every runner girls' bachelorette weekend begins with a group run.

 

Michelle's streak of terrible mid-stride facial expressions did not end here.

A beautiful morning at Umstead State Park in Raleigh.

How do you make a 10-mile run last two hours? Stop every five minutes for photos. Good thing we're all in the off-season.

Post-run stretching. Totes candid.

Ready for a legit night out. Like, past 10pm. Guess whose color is natural...

"My head feels itchy!"

Our night wouldn't be complete without "the sack." It's like a snuggie with bells!

3/4 hot and 1/4 tranny...I think.

Sunday morning: Dalena's car battery dying and Michelle not wanting the party to end were completely unrelated.

Matching in mustard for Michelle's birthday dinner.

Happy 29th! Ah, to be young again. Happy to finish an amazing weekend celebrating with my fabulous hostess.

Read More

Week in Review

32 miles
3 days off
14 miles at Battle Road
1 AFD (new record!)

Autumn at Battle Road

I probably shouldn't have run 14 miles today, but there was great company (Jordan, Terry, Jenn and a BAA crew) and a great venue (the always pleasing Battle Road) and, well, the loop is 14 miles. I could've turned around by myself at the five-mile mark before the Great Meadow section, but what's the fun in that? However, by the final 30 minutes my legs were screaming righteous indignation and my hamstrings felt tighter than at any point during last Sunday's marathon. I need a day off and a massage, both of which are in the plan for tomorrow. And hey, if these are my biggest gripes one week removed from Philly, I can't really complain.

Read More

Fifth Annual Gabe's Run 5k XC Challenge

5k w/u
Target: Win, break course record (sub-18:40)
Actual: 18:25, 1st place and new CR
Results
2 mile c/d
Total: 8 miles

I know what you're thinking: "Umm...didn't you just run a marathon four days ago?!" Well technically yes, but in my defense this race has been on the calendar for quite some time, and for good reason. 

Pre-race photo opp with my coworker Scott, his fiancee Jen and his brother

I didn't know much--nothing, really--about Gabe's Run until a few months ago, when my boss Eric mentioned it. The race takes place just a few miles from his house in Hamilton, which is the next town over from where we work in Beverly, which is just north of our home in Salem. Gabe's Run takes place in memory of a Hamilton High graduate who was bound to run at Dartmouth when he was tragically killed in a car accident the summer after his senior year. Now in its fifth year, Gabe's Run has swelled to almost 800 participants and benefits a student-athlete scholarship fund in Gabe's honor. As far as race beneficiaries go, I can't think of a better one to support. So for the past month or so, Eric and I have been recruiting other Karhu and Craft employees to participate--largely by promising brunch at Eric's house afterward--and even Eric's 7-year-old daughter Ella was eager to tackle her second ever 5k endeavor. I held off on signing up until after the marathon just in case any part of my body imploded in a serious way, but after three days off and a tentative tester jog on Thursday I was confident I could at least shuffle around the course in one piece.

Admittedly, Jordan had initially been against the idea of me racing. But as we began slowly tracing the course on our warmup jog, something seemed to change. Having not really participated in cross-country since high school--Club Nats two years ago at McAlpine's glorified dirt road hardly counts--I really had no grasp of effective racing strategy. Jordan offered several pointers and helpfully suggested that I better "beat all the high school girls if I wanted a ride home." In fact, his last words to me before sending me off to the starting line--the men's and women's races were run separately--were, "The course record is 18:40." So much for no pressure.

Of course, 18:40 isn't exactly fast--but then, neither is the terrain. Deemed a "true" cross-country course by Jordan, most of the route traverses uneven, grassy fields and rocky dirt paths. The real gauntlet comes at 4k, when runners are forced to claw their way to the top of Scilly's Hill. I'm always wary of topographical features that necessitate their own nomenclature, and this one was no exception. A steep, rocky, rooty ascent that goes on much too far--for reference, it's steeper than the McAlpine hill and about three times as long--Scilly's Hill was designed to break people. Possibly me. Still, Jordan and I had talked strategy and I felt good about keeping my composure and, in theory, the lead past that point.

That is, until I stepped up to the starting line and spotted a familiar looking figure in a Dartmouth uniform.

"F@#k me, that's Abbey D'Agostino," I thought to myself (and hopefully didn't say out loud, but I can't be entirely certain.)

If you don't know who Abbey D'Agostino is, a quick search of the 'ol interwebs should tell you that she is the reigning NCAA 5k national champion, came within hundredths of a second of taking a free trip to London last summer, and as recently as last weekend placed second at the NCAA D1 cross-country championships. In other words, it didn't matter whether I ran a marathon yesterday or last year; there was no conceivable scenario in which my legs would be fresh enough (never mind fit enough) to challenge her. It was looking as though the exercise of running the race was a mere formality.

I stepped up to the far edge of the starting line, hoping I would have a straight shot across the field when the course narrowed. The announcer was rambling on about this and that, seemingly building up to an elaborate countdown to the start. "And now we have the women lined up, a great field, let's get them in place and--"

BANG!

The gun fired literally in the middle of his sentence, and chaos reigned. Half the field surged forward, while the rest of us stood, perplexed, assuming it was a misfire and that we would be called back. After about five seconds it became apparent that the latter would not be the case, so I gamely took off after the stampeding crowd. Within the first two minutes it was obvious that Abbey was just jogging--or possibly pacing a friend/Dartmouth teammate--as I was nearing the front and she was nowhere to be seen. The course narrowed as we passed a baseball diamond, then widened again as we burst into the open field, and at that point I had already assumed the lead.

The morning was absolutely gorgeous, brilliant, the sky a deep cerulean and without a cloud. For late November in New England it was best case scenario, and without a drop of rain in the previous week the ground felt firm and responsive. So too, did my legs, and I passed the first mile in 5:43 feeling relaxed and totally comfortable. If the marathon had induced any lingering fatigue I wasn't feeling it yet.

The second mile was the quickest, and the most fun, as I passed near the start line again and was greeted by a phalanx of spectators. There were several hundred people spurring me on, a feeling which I hadn't realized I missed from cross-country days long past. Passing two miles in 11:19, I'd probably opened up a 200-meter lead--enough to ease any worry about being passed on the crawl up Scilly's Hill, but that didn't mean I wasn't dreading it. Sure enough, my ascent was anything but graceful, and I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say I could've walked faster--practically was anyway--at several points. By the time I reached the top my quads were pulsing with a fire that even 26.2 miles hadn't managed to spark, and for the first time since the race began I was counting down the minutes until I could simply stop. A furtive glance at my watch confirmed I would break the course record, but it was astonishing how much time the hill had eaten away. I crossed the line in 18:25, eclipsing the previous course best by 20 seconds, while Abbey and her teammate finished 2-3 in 19:43. I might just frame the race results, as it is certainly the only time my name will ever be listed ahead of hers.

Starting line of the men's race

The guys were up next, and I'm sure Jordan will appreciate me glossing over the finer details. Suffice it to say he went in expecting to get his doors blown off by scores of high schoolers and returning collegians, and he was not proven wrong. I'll let him share the gory details when he updates his blog approximately seven months from now.

Jordan kicking hard for 25th place

It was during the time I was spectating that a diminutive brunette woman approached me. "Didn't you win the women's race?" she asked. I barely had a chance to respond in the affirmative before she was enveloping me in a hug. "I'm Gabe's mom," she continued. "Thank you so much for coming."

I was speechless. How could I respond? I mumbled something wholly inadequate, and then she was gone. But that brief exchange was enough to affirm why I was there, and why I will return next year, and how this often insignificant sport of ours can actually mean so much more than just numbers on the clock. I won't pretend I came to the race solely for altruistic reasons, but I'm honored to have been a small part of the legacy that Gabe has left behind.  

Read More