Running

After the Seattle half marathon, I experienced a bout of the post-race blues.

Finishing my first half marathon (and raising a ton of money for cancer) were two tangible goals and reaching them took hard work. I looked forward to the race for months and after I flew back to Wyoming, I didn’t have as much to look forward to.

I got over it, fast. I put running on the back burner, averaging 12 miles/week. I traveled. I entertained. I hiked. I enjoyed Wyoming while it was warm.

Then I started to make fall plans — plans for after Oct. 1 when my vacation days reset. I had planned to go to Rochester for my college homecoming weekend. But as the date approached, logistics of flying to western New York in the middle of October set in. I had to fly out of Casper because if it snowed, I wouldn’t be able to make it to Denver — doubling the cost of the plane ticket and limited the times I could fly in and out.

Then my mom called — she and my dad were flying to Colorado that weekend for my sister’s family/alumni weekend. I haven’t seen them in months and the odds don’t look good for going home for the holidays (again). So I decided to save vacation days and money by weekending in Denver instead.

The first Rock n Roll Denver marathon happened to be the same weekend. I proposed the idea of a family half marathon and my mom and sister said yes. Eventually, my dad signed up too.

I trained much like the first half, running small distances (3-5 miles) twice a week with a longer run on the weekends.
My mom followed a walking plan but got a serious cold that lasted the whole week leading up to the race. My sister vowed to run, but that fell through when she got busy and later got sick. And my dad signed up too late to commit to anything serious.

Our expectations were pretty low. My mom thought she’d probably be hauled off the course before she finished.

pre-race smiles in the port-o-potty line.

But we all made it — on our own time, without injury and feeling accomplished. I shaved 20 minutes off my time in Seattle. Dad was able to run a little bit, despite bad knees. Much to her surprise, my sister finished in under 3 hours.

After I finished, I ran back to the hotel to shower and change and made it back in time to see my mom cross the finish line. I was so proud of her and my dad and sister for doing something they never thought they would do.

My brother got out of running this one because of work, but I have a feeling another family race is in the future.

After I signed up for the Denver half marathon, I tried to convince my sister, who doesn’t run and has never raced, to join me. She must have had a good day because she said yes (really?!). She also said she wanted to run a race prior to the half (seriously?!).

Lucky for us, a 10K was planned for Sept. 25 in Casper and Sept. 26 in Colorado. We had options. She said she wanted to come to Casper (really?!). I doubted she’d visit because she hasn’t since I moved here. I’ve been to Fort Collins more times than I can count.

Weeks passed and I didn’t think it would happen.

And then it did.

Sam drove to Casper and ran her first race and the farthest distance in her life. I smashed my PR while running a pace that didn’t wreck my knees or any other part of my body. I finished my first 10K in 1:05 in 2009 and I finished Saturday’s race in 0:55 (unofficial watch time) — that’s an 8:52 minute mile! Pretty fast for not pushing myself too hard.

We both had fun — and didn’t kill each other!

Sisters at the finish line.

The Support the Girls 10K was a perfect first race for her and pace race for me. The course included pieces I run all the time, with lots of curves and a few small hills. The race was small and the organizers did a fantastic job of making the day more about having fun than winning a race. The race raised more than $6,000 for breast cancer programs in Natrona County.

Finish line.

I don’t run fast, but I did yesterday.

It was my first run in the “cold,” at 37 degrees. I didn’t feel like I was running hard. I walked for a few seconds nearly every mile to adjust my new running tights. I finished with plenty of steam left to run another mile or two.

So I was surprised to look at my watch when I was done:

That’s for four miles — just under a 9-minute mile. That might not be very fast for a lot of people, but the last time I ran that fast for longer than 3 miles I messed up my knee. This run was very good news for what’s been a long recovery and a boost for my runner’s-ego.

Bring on Saturday’s 10K!

Wyoming is the first place I’ve lived where the heat index is usually below the air temperature. Example: Right now it’s 79 degrees, feels like 78. The sun shines and a small breeze blows 90% of the time. The average temperature for the summer was likely between 70 and 80 degrees. At night it dips down into the 50s and 60s. If I had a porch, it’d always be perfect porch-sitting weather.

90 degrees, perfect day for tubing on the North Platte River. (Photo by Dan Cepeda)

There have been 95-degree days. I avoid them by running in the mornings and evenings and soaking up the way-too-cold AC at work. The hottest temp I ran in this summer was 70 degrees. 70 degrees!! You bet I was dying from the heat. Even when it’s 90 degrees, I’ll still walk down to the library or to the corner store instead of hopping in my car. Usually I leave the pool or beach because it gets too hot. This year, I left because I got bored.

The warm weather we’ve had (I refuse to say, “It’s hot” after living in New Orleans) hasn’t been fun for people without AC. I understand that because the AC in my Corolla is no better than those personal mini fans.

My apartment doesn’t have air conditioning. Or fans. Actually, my electric bill is about $2 cheaper in the summer because I’m not running a space heater.

Even on those 90-degree days, I routinely change into sweats after work because I’m — gasp — cold. Basement apartments have their disadvantages: little light, spiders, stuffy without a way to circulate air throughout. Those same disadvantages (except maybe the spiders) make my place a perfect summer hideout.

A porch would be nice.

If this post made you pine for Wyoming and want move west. Don’t… it will be snowing by the time you get here.

First and most important — we finished the half marathon. We raised over $4,000 and did it injury free! Although we were a little sore walking to dinner, leaning on each other to get downhill and praying we never get arthritis that bad.

On Thursday we watched the Cubs/Mariners game at Safeco Field. The park was super nice, with terrific views all the way around and an excellent beer selection. I grew up going to games at Wrigley so anytime I’m in one of the “new ballparks” I’m amazed at the amenities and that I can go a whole game without someone spilling beer on me. We got our money’s worth — the game went to 13 innings and the Cubs finally pulled it off in the end.

Terrible, terrible seats.

After a warm-up run Friday morning, we walked around Pike Place market, down to the race expo and then to the International District for lunch. We ate at the Phenom Penh Noodle House where the owner showed us how to eat like the Cambodians do. We met with our Team in Training coach to go over the course and race-day information. The runners from St. Louis and Columbia ate a pre-race dinner together with the other 800 Team in Training participants. The whole group raised over $2 million for the race! We heard the parent of a cancer patient and running writer John Bingham speak — tears and laughter.

Then it was back to the hotel for bedtime — at 9 p.m. However, I did not sleep at all well because my throat kept bothering me. When the alarm went off at 3:50 a.m., I had already been up for 30 minutes. We loaded the bus for the start line at 4:15 a.m. and arrived with 2 hours to kill.

4 a.m. smiles

Thank God for the 24-hour Starbucks (and its restrooms) down the street. I got my coffee and we ate breakfast. Then we got in one of the portopotty lines behind two people who were making friends over their divorce stories. Man, were we ready to run after an hour of that.

One-third of the pre-race port o potty line

The course wasn’t too bad. There were a few hills but they didn’t stick out. We stopped for a second to stretch at mile 7 and my knee started hurting when we stopped. The course was fun, lots of water and a stretch on an interstate offramp leading to a downtown finish. We finished in 2:32, impressive considering neither of us had run more than 10 miles before and Josh averaged a 12 minute mile for that run.

It took us FOREVER to get our snacks, foil cape and beer so we could walk back to the hotel. Once back, ice baths, soccer and the best tasting Subway of my life were in order. I haven’t been able to enjoy Subway since before my middle/high school served it every day for lunch. This sandwich hit the spot, especially since the post-race snack line didn’t include any protein. Bagels, oranges, rice chips, granola bars… no chocolate milk or anything like that. And the bagel made me sick. Luckily, the Team in Training booth made PB&J to hold us over until we could eat the best Subway evar.

Are we there yet?

We recovered and drove to the Red Hook Brewery in Woodinville to meet a fellow education reporter and her family. Food, beers and stories were shared. The sun had come out by then — perfect day. Somehow we had enough energy to play video games at the Team in Training party and eat a long, leisurely dinner at the Steelhead Diner, lit by a just as leisurely setting sun. Aaaaand we were asleep by 10.

We ate breakfast at Cafe Presse, walked around Capitol Hill to stretch sore muscles and watched the exodus to downtown for the Pride Parade.

And then I got sick. Itchy watery eyes, runny nose, etc. I was that girl who didn’t take off her sunglasses in the airport or on the plane. Movie star? Hungover? I wish. I couldn’t keep my eyes open longer than a minute at a time. Thankfully, I got on an earlier flight and drove in to Casper at midnight instead of the planned 2 a.m.

I made it home safe and sound, but a bunny crossing the road about 20 miles outside of Casper wasn’t so lucky. I completely plowed over the sucker at 85 mph — my first roadkill. It gave me a much-needed wake-up call to get me home. Thank you, bunny, for your sacrifice and for not being an antelope.