500 Festival Mini Marathon - Race Report

I typed a glorious race report that recounted every tiny detail of the 500 Festival Mini Marathon in vivid reconstruction. Then, Wendy wrote her version of the race, and I intended to pepper my report with snippets from her perspective. However, after reading Wendy's race report, I realized the blog post ought to be written from our alternating points of view. Still, this is a long report. If you would prefer to read a shorter version, please click here. :-)

Jo
The 500 Festival Mini Marathon is my race. It's the one that started everything. It was the first race for which I ever registered, and I did so being able to run only 300 meters. My first Indy Mini was life-changing, and I've had a love affair with the race ever since. I've had great Minis, bad Minis, and Minis I've missed due to broken legs. However, every time I've run the race, I am well aware of how blessed I am to be a part of it and of the rich importance it holds for me. This year, I wanted to run a personal record, below 1:54:19.

Wendy

A month before the Indy Mini, when Jo and I finished a 15K progression run (a race that we used as a workout), I knew she was in fine shape. It was then that I started to get excited about running alongside her in the Mini. Then, as she helped me (with ease!) pace Amelia to a 2:01 debut half in Louisville just two weeks prior to the Indy Mini, to my excitement was added pride. I knew… KNEW… that her half PR was going DOWN at the Indy Mini. 

Jo
Ed's and my hotel overlooked Washington Street, which is where the 35,000 Mini runners are corralled for a half-mile. At the very stroke of 6:00 A.M., Mini announcer Rob Powers broadcasted to downtown Indy, "3, 2, 1, MINI MARATHON!" "I Gotta Feelin'" by the Black Eyed Peas followed. I looked out the window at the dark, early Indy morning... and started crying. This was my day, at my race, with my friends, to meet my goal. I was overcome with emotion.

Before the race

Before the race, Ed and I met Wendy, Mom, Dad, and Becky. Becky was going to help Wendy pace me. At my assigned corral, D, we met the Schofields. Running his fourth consecutive Mini, Jessie, a 16-year-old former student of mine, was going to join my pacing crew because he wasn't interested in running for time. His Mom, Dad, and sister Chelsey were in attendance to cheer.

Just before the gun, the sun came out. Everyone around us was acting like this development was a great thing, but Wendy and I knew better. I wilt in the sun. All the forecasts had reported 43° and cloudy at race start. Sunny and 50° would take a little energy from me, but not enough to put the PR in jeopardy. It was a disappointment, but not a game changer. Dad leaned over the fence and reminded me to have fun. Then, Rob Powers started the countdown.

Wendy

At 5K

Pacing someone in a race is an experience vastly different from racing it yourself. The pre-race nerves that come with lining up to attempt a PR aren't there. However, especially when pacing a dear friend and training partner, there is still pressure. When I pace Jo, I'm in charge of everything—I carry everything, I get her water, I wipe her drool, I stuff ice down her shirt, I give her motivation via profound statements—all she has to do is run. That's what a good pacer does. But I also have to make sure that the plan is executed correctly. This includes pace, positioning, fueling, and hydrating. Oh, and I have to keep her head in the game mentally. It is a job I love, but it is certainly a job. This time, I had two people helping me pace—Becky and Jessie. Having two extra people was great, as they could hold my water, etc. while I posted FB updates. :-)

The first few miles of the race went perfectly. The first mile, at 8:46, was slower than planned pace due to the crowd, but we expected that. We hit 5K in 26:50, and we were all in good spirits. Jo looked great, but we all noticed one thing: it felt hot. The temperature was somewhere in the 50°s, but the sun was unrelenting. I was sweating already, but we were consistently in the 8:26-8:30 pace range. We made fun of people wearing tights.

Jo
I ran the early miles easily, but I was worried about the approaching Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The track is where I historically implode, and I was worried about erasing all our good work. Wendy said, "We aren't thinking about the track right now. We are focusing on this mile. Eliminate this mile."

On the fourth mile, while headed north, I was bothered by the sun, and said so. The heat from it was uncomfortable, and the light in my eyes was incommodious. Shortly thereafter, Jessie moved into a position to my right and slightly ahead of me. I tapped his arm, and said, "I'm glad you're here." He replied, "I'm trying to shade you from the sun." I was instantly touched. That action was just one of the first of many selfless acts displayed by my awesome pacers.

As we entered Mile 5, a runner next to us yelled, "Hey, everyone! We are one-third done!" Before I reveal my reply, understand that in a race, my tolerance level drops as mileage and pace increase. Little things can be more irritating than they would usually be. So, I might've had a little edge to my voice when in between breaths I noted, "Four... times three... is twelve." The man replied, "Well, I rounded up." My face must've divulged my annoyance, because Wendy uttered a quote she's heard me say many times on a run: "Nothing makes her madder than bad math."

Wendy

Just before the 6 mile mark, I could tell Jo was feeling it, and I knew that was mostly because it was hot and there was no shade. She said, "Here it comes." She was referring to the track. I knew, going in, that the track was a mental block for her. We had divided the race into three parts: pre-track, track, and post-track. Pre-track was done, and now I had to keep her together mentally throughout the track. Jessie, Becky, and I were all working as a team. She was surrounded by support going into the track. As we entered, she said something like, "It's going to happen. I'm going to mess it up on the track again." I had planned to do something here, and I did it. As we entered, I said, "No. The track is 2.5 miles. The first mile is for your dad." And I made her cry, but I also had her focusing on something other than the track. 

On the track

Jo
When Wendy told me about running for Dad, I asked her to text him and tell him. It occurred to me that Wendy had planned this strategy in advance. It made me want Mile 7 instead of dreading it.

To enter the IMS, runners have to go under the track. The path is shaped like a V: down steeply, then up steeply, but briefly in both cases. Our plan was to jog slowly up the incline to conserve energy, so it made sense to me to attack the downhill, both to build momentum and to average time. I said to my friends, "Bomb it?" meaning, "Do you want me to bomb the downhill?" Wendy and Becky both said, "What? Vomit?!" It gave us all a laugh.

Wendy

Brickyard

The track is awful. It's not shaded, it's boring, and it lasts way, way too long. On the track is when I noticed that Jo was actually struggling. This was because it was hot, the track, not shaded, and getting deep into the race. I caught myself and Becky pulling away from her a bit, though we weren't speeding up. I was tempted to really try to motivate her at this point, but I told Becky we should just get her off the track. Once that was done, we could regain composure. We ran mile 8 for Jo's mom, and soon we were (mercifully) headed off the track. Phase 2 was over.

Jo
"What is happening?!" I asked Wendy. I tried to accelerate, but there wasn't much in my legs. "It's OK," Wendy said. I said OK, but I really thought it was all lost then. Five miles, the length of our daily run, seemed like an impossible distance, and I was incredibly discouraged. Becky said, "The worst is behind us," to which I snapped, "You don't know what you're talking about." All I could see was 4-point-something miles of utter pain. I felt blisters on the bottoms of my feet. I felt fatigue everywhere. How and why was this happening?

Wendy

As we exited, Jo looked bad. Her head was down, her shoulders were slumped, and she said, "I'm messing it up again. I'm not even going to PR." I told her, "We are off the track now. We are starting all over." I knew her fitness was there. She just had to shake off the mental bear that was on her back. She didn't seem enthused by that statement. We hit mile 9 at 9:03—we were slowing down. So I thought for a second about what I could do to help her. The physical ability was there, I knew that for sure, but how to come back from this mental defeat? Then I remembered… what do I do when I feel like I'm dying in a race? How do I come back to hold pace or even accelerate? Two words: I fartlek. (Jo here: Fartlek is a Swedish term for speed play.)

I told Jo, "I'm going to speed up gradually, and you're coming with me." She did. Then I gave her a little rest. We slowed down. Becky and Jessie were right there with us, so she was completely surrounded by people who knew she could do this. I kept telling her that we were going to make up the time we lost on the track; this race was STILL HERS, and it was not over. I would choose a landmark and say, "We are running hard from here to there, then you can rest." And she did it. Over and over, she surged. Our pace fell. It was working, and she told me so. Mile 10 was 8:43. We were reeling this back in.

Jo
We repeated this pattern for the rest of the race, and each time, Wendy would make the "speed up" sections longer. I'd call her names, but I'd do it. It was working. The rests felt like rests, but the faster segments were keeping my pace respectable. In fact, we were passing people left and right, even as the game started to get harder.

Wendy

At the beginning of every surge, I grabbed her left hand and pulled her up next to me. Then she stayed next to me until we got to wherever the landmark was—a stop sign, a street name, or a stoplight. It was working. We got near mile 11, and I kept trying to figure out what pace we had to run the last 2.1 in order for her to PR. I couldn't do the math, so I hesitantly said, "Jo, when we get to 11, I'm going to need you to do some math."

Jo
I can't believe I had the ability to do math at that point.

Wendy

We got there, to 11, with a split of 8:37. As an exercise in futility, I tried to do the calculations aloud. "Shut up," she said. Good, that meant she was doing math in her head. "8:45," she whispered. Okay. We needed two 8:45s and we had a PR. I kept telling her to keep it together mentally, and that we could do ANYTHING for two miles. We continued to fartlek, and people (runners and spectators) went on about how inspirational it was to see me pulling her up next to me at the beginning of the fartlek section.

Jo
Wendy turned to face me and said, "I will NOT let you NOT do this! You have worked too hard! RUN!" That was the end of the twelfth mile.

Wendy

We hit 12 at 8:36—still speeding up. "One more," I told her. "No!" she said, "1.1!" She hates bad math.

I told her that her rest sections were going to be shorter now. Becky and I were on either side of her, and Jessie in front. We were her human shield.

Jo
Jessie, Becky, and Wendy kept encouraging statements flowing, telling me that I was maintaining PR pace, that I was stronger than I thought, that I was almost done. 

Victory Mile

Wendy
I pulled her up with my hand. She asked me to not let go, so I didn’t.

Jo
I put my hand in hers, but this time, I didn't let go.

Wendy

I can't remember everything we were saying to her, but we all knew she was going to do it. I pulled on her a little, but mostly she was just right there next to me. I kept trying to force my energy into her through my hand. I was not going to not let her do this. Her face was the picture of pain, and I remember telling her the pain would get no worse from here—it would just last longer if we slowed down. At approximately 12.3 or so, I told her she could have a five-second slow down break if she wanted. "No," she said. She didn't want a break. "Okay," I said, "let's finish this."

Near the finish

Jo
Through stilted grunts, I tried to communicate that my husband and parents were spectating nearby. Wendy told me how proud they were going to be when they saw me. I ran faster. At Mile Marker 13, there they were. I tried to wave but my arm wouldn't work. I squeezed Wendy's hand, and she guided me to the finish line.

Wendy

Jo and I hand-in-hand, Becky and Jessie on either side rooting her on, we ran the last 1.1 miles in 8:06—the fastest we had run all day. We saw Jo's parents and husband in the grandstands. She was unable to wave, so the rest of us did it for her. We crossed the line, and her time read 1:53:35… PR! 

Jo

A PR by a mere 44 seconds. Here are results and stats 'n' such.

All done!

Wendy
She kind of collapsed (we've been through this before so I wasn't too alarmed), but after sitting in a wheelchair a few minutes she was able to walk. I WAS SO PROUD.

Jo
Have you ever seen one of those animals where you pinch the sides, and the little guy collapses, then bounces right back to perfect posture? One of these? That was a precise description of me at the finish line. I took a few careful steps, and then I experienced complete muscle failure. Wobbly, jelly legs would not support me.

After a rest, we entered Military Park and united with our families. They congratulated all of us. We took more pictures. We rehashed the funny quotes and moments of the race. Finally, one by one, we each departed to our hotels or vehicles, and it was just another day.

World's Greatest Pacers and Friends

But how can you call a day that contained so many memories "just another day"? I learned more on the 2014 running of the 500 Festival Mini Marathon than I'd learned on any other run in recent memory, but there were two "lessons" that were my favorite. First, I am stronger than I think I am. Late in the ninth mile, I thought the race was lost, but it wasn't. Second, I am blessed with true friends. My race would have been lost if not for their encouragement that NEVER ceased, even when I was negative and unkind. It is never just another day when it is reinforced that with your supportive family and friends, you can do anything.

Wendy

I have run many, many miles with Jo. I know that she is full of running potential and talent. And I knew that if she shut down mentally, she wouldn't meet her goal. It is my hope that I (and the others), showed her that she is capable of pushing through levels of fatigue and pain she never felt possible. She is a very talented runner, and pacing her in this race is one of the best running experiences I've ever had. Watching someone bust through a barrier like that is hard to match, especially when that person is your best friend. I can't wait to pace her again at Monumental—marathons are in my wheelhouse. :-)

Jo

There's a lot in Wendy's wheelhouse. :-)

<3

Tapril

Tapril.  It's Taper + April, see?  Tapril!  I really ought to have that trademarked, registered, copyrighted, all of that.

Tapril™
Tapril®
Tapril©

There.

Because I've registered to run the Mini for eight consecutive years (missing two due to a broken leg), I'm always tapering in the last couple weeks of April, which makes taper and April 50% synonymous for me. It's an exciting time because it means the race is nearing. It's an awful time because the potential for me to experience taper madness is high.

Huh?
For nonrunners who are wondering, taper is the time period before a race when you "taper off" your high mileage to give your legs a rest before Big Race Day. Sounds awesome, right? Wrong. WRONG. When one's body becomes accustomed to high mileage, one's body craves high mileage; and when the mileage drops, it starts experiencing symptoms similar to withdrawal. Aching legs, extreme appetite, a sore throat, and utter exhaustion are my top taper symptoms that manifest physically.

However, the worst part of taper is the psychological drama, which is tenfold with this admitted worrier. I worry that I've not trained well enough. I worry that I'll have a bad day on the day of the race. I worry that the weather will not be optimal. I worry that I'll be at the start line and realize I've forgotten something important. I worry that I'll come down with some terrible illness and be unable to perform well. I worry, worry, worry, usually about things I can't control. I've even dreamed that I was shot by a sniper while running the race.

Calm Down

Running happy since 1983

The truth is, I've had a GREAT April. It's the first month in 2014 where I've been happy with my mileage. The weird edema in my heel finally gave up a few weeks ago, though there are vestiges of pain left behind. I had a great 15K pace run, and I was able to join Amelia for her big run. My fitness is right where I want it to be. Wendy and I have a solid race plan for Saturday, and our friend Becky is going to join us. I couldn't feel more prepared and confident. When my mind starts darting to the doom, I try to focus on that confidence.

Truthfully, as important as the Mini and my performance in it are to me, I know that even if I have a bad race, it will be a good day. Any day I run is a blessing, which sounds cheesy, but is a known truth to runners who have been injured. The Mini is my favorite race of the year, and I can't wait to run it with my friends. A PR (sub-1:54:19) would just be icing on the Mini cake. If I focus on the fun, the rest will fall into place.

Month Four
Here are my statistics from the fourth month of 2014, Tapril.

Miles Run: 88.88

Runs: 14

Hours Run: 14.45

Average Run Distance: 6.35 mi.

Average Run Pace: 9:45.39

Average Run Duration: 1:01:56.4

Average Temperature: 49.9°F

Longest Run: 13.10 mi., April 19

Shortest Run: 2.75 mi., April 1 (Three parts: 1, 2, 3)

Favorite Run: April 5, 9.30 mi.; and April 19, 13.10 mi.

Total Lifetime Mileage: 3,222.35

(I swear the 88.88 mi. happened on its own. I didn't do it on purpose.)

That I ran the most mileage I've run all year in a taper month says a lot for my rehabilitated injury. This body is ready for a PR on May 3! Be sure to download the Mini app to follow along on Saturday. Just search 500 Festival in your app store, and search for Jo Cobb, Bib #1301. Good luck to all my running buddies who are racing this weekend!

Kentucky Derby Mini Marathon - Race Report

I had never run the Kentucky Derby Mini Marathon. It is usually held the weekend before the 500 Festival Mini, which I usually run, thus at which time I'm usually in taper. I have no reason to run 13.1 miles the week before I race 13.1 miles (and every reason not to), so the Derby Mini was a race I figured I'd never run. Wrong.

Amelia
Wendy's daughter Amelia decided last fall that she wanted to be like the cool kids and run a half marathon. However, she didn't want to "just" run a half marathon; she also wanted to give it purpose. She decided to use the half marathon race and its training as a means to raise money for Saving Sunny, a pit bull rescue in Louisville. Accordingly, what better race to choose than the Derby Half, held right in the heart of Louisville?

Plans were made. Wendy and Amelia registered for the race. They set up a donation site. I made a donation. I said, "Good luck." I figured I would follow her progress and say, "Yay, Amelia!" and, "Good job!" and totally mean it, but I also figured that would be the extent of my involvement. Wrong again.

Fate
In January, Wendy learned that she had to have a fibroma cut from her foot. The surgery rendered her "runless" for six weeks. Suddenly, Amelia and I had both lost our training partner. As a result, we thought it would be a great idea to train together. I joined Amelia on many an icy-cold morning to grind out 10-or-so miles. It was fun.

The more I ran with Ameila, the more I wanted to part of the big event. Fate seemed to intervene as my schedule magically cleared for April 19, the date of her race. Additionally, the Derby Half was scheduled two weeks before the Indy Mini instead of one. My injury(-ies) were starting to stabalize, too.  I asked told Wendy if I could I was going to join the two of them in the race.  She said, "Sounds awesome!"

The Two Race Plans
Amelia's initial race plan involved taking it slowly (≈10-min./mile) for 10K, and then accelerating as she felt like it. After the 500 Festival Training Series 15K where Amelia laid down an 8:37 pace, we decided to run the first mile of the half slowly to get through the crowd, then target some 9-min. miles.

However, Wendy and I never have a single race plan, so we honored tradition and bequeathed to Amelia our practice of matching our clothes and wearing flowers in our hair when we race. The clothes plan is as (more?) important than the race-attack plan. Because Amelia would be wearing orange shorts and a white singlet with the Saving Sunny logo, we planned to wear white singlets and orange shorts.

Sis BoomBozz (It's funny!)

Derby Mini Eve
Ed and I left Bedford for Louisville immediately after school.  We arrived at our near-the-start-and-finish hotel, then walked to the Expo. (Aside: Now, I love me some Race Expos, but this one was Code Red insane. Participants were forced to snake through EVERY booth, nearly single file, in order for their race chips to activate. That format probably backfired in the organizers' faces, because it was the least conducive thing to shopping I've ever seen. End Aside.) After getting my packet, we navigated to Bardstown Road for a great dinner. (Another Aside: The lack of parking lots in Louisville is frustrating to Bedford-born-and-bred me. End Another Aside.)

We met Wendy's friends and Saving Sunny volunteers Brittnay and Russell and Wendy's whole family for a lovely meal at BoomBozz, an establishment managed by Russell. We had a truly fun time chatting, laughing, discussing the race, and telling stories.  And the food... the FOOD! After a great meal, Ed and I headed back to the hotel, and I turned in early for what would prove to be an unforgettable day.

Before The Start
I awoke after an only slightly fitful sleep and prepared for the race. Then, Ed and I walked a half-mile out of our way to meet at Wendy's hotel. The race atmosphere was charged with excitement. Running into a local running buddy and a college friend enlivened me even more. Amelia had the typical excited/nervous/hyper/apprehensive jitters of the first time half runner. However, everyone in our group was about to be full-on pumped.

As we approached our coral we saw in the distance... AMELIA'S FACE. It was enlarged at least two times its normal size and held above the crowd on a stick. And there's Buddy's face! And Darla's! And Brooklynn's! (Those babies are all Amelia's dogs.) The Saving Sunny crew had chosen a GREAT way to motivate Amelia and show their support.

The First Half Of The Half
The first mile of the race was very crowded. We stuck to the plan and took it slow, and I couldn't wait for the crowd to thin. Amelia was chatting and laughing. We took in the sights. I showed Wendy that, yes, there is a river north of Louisville, one that is actually fairly large and notable. Wendy's husband Tim was with us. I ran into another friend, this time from my student teaching years, on those first miles. Everything was all smiles and happiness except for the course congestion, which wasn't thinning like I'd hoped.

Knowing Wendy wanted to stick right with Amelia, I adopted the role of trailblazer. I stayed a few steps ahead and made paths for us, because goshdarnit, that crown would not thin. I had studied the course, so I knew where to be and when. Tim joined me in my efforts, but unfortunately had to bail due to an uncooperative Achilles. Around the sixth mile, I noticed Amelia and Wendy were a little farther behind me than they had been. I slowed to join them and ask Amelia how she felt. "Fine," she answered. I knew better, and so did Wendy.

The Last Half Of The Half
After the halfway point, I traded back and forth between Trailblazer and Motivational Statement Maker, a job I've learned well from the likes of Wendy and her declarations of, "You are closer to the finish than when you started!" I said a whole host of fully obnoxious things to Amelia, including the gem, "You only get to run your first half marathon once!" I philosophized about "Today Ameila" and "Tomorrow Amelia," and how proud Tomorrow Amelia was going to be of Today Amelia and her efforts. Finally, Amelia said very politely, "Let's shut up." Got it.

We ran through Churchill Downs. We ran through tunnels. We ran around some statues. The crowd never thinned. The sun was starting to feel overly hot. When we were nearing completion of Mile 10, Amelia did not look good, but she looked laser-focused on her task. Wendy suggested we run Mile 11 for Buddy, Amelia's late dog. That proposal brought about a little levity that made the time pass, but the pain was coming hard for Amelia. I learned later that she was experiencing cramping (her mother's daughter), and lightheaded-ness. You would never know it based on the effort she was about to display.

I spent the last few miles running ahead of Amelia, yelling to the crowd, "She's 11! She's having a hard time! C'mon, let's hear it for her!" I was being beyond obnoxious, but every cheer brought Amelia encouragement, so it was worth my silliness. We would pass runners (yes, us passing them), and they would marvel at her. I would offer the rest of the story on her fundraiser so they would praise her even more. ANY ounce of encouragement I could help ignite for this child was helpful, so I was on an encouragement-mission.

While a very kind runner was making a video of us at the end of the twelfth mile, I spotted Wendy's brother, Wes, and the Saving Sunny crew with their great big signs high in the air. Our ensuing celebration was, luckily, caught on camera. That group of people gave Amelia the push she needed to make it the final 1.1 miles.

"What is this insane pace?!"

Wendy and I continued the encouragement on the home stretch, but Amelia surprised us when she rounded the corner to the finish line. Since she's known for a fast finish, I expected Amelia to kick. What I did not expect was the 5:13 pace she dropped on the last 200 meters. For this woman, 200 meters is a LONG WAY to run at 11.5mph. We saw Amelia's dad, Yancy. We saw Ed. Then we saw a finish line, and it said 2:01:38.

The Half Aftermath

Just like that, it was over. After a few minutes of "not running," Amelia started to recover. As the day progressed, she felt prouder and prouder, as she should. She was able to celebrate her efforts with her family and her Saving Sunny friends, human and canine. In addition to those important numbers 2:01 (which were earned with negative splits), Amelia was also able to flash $2,200, the amount she raised for the Saving Sunny organization. Not a single person involved in Amelia's fundraiser and running mission had a bad day on April 19. It was all happiness, success, and pride for a job well done. (Here are race results and stats 'n' such.)

As For Me...
I really enjoyed focusing on someone else for an entire race. Keeping tabs on Amelia, blazing her trail, and quarrying for crowd support were FUN jobs. It was like being a bridesmaid to the bride, but way, way, way, freaking-WAY better. Secondarily good news is that I also ran a 2:01 without much effort (until that last 200 meters - good heavens). It used to be my heart's desire to run a sub-2, so a 2:01 that included pace changes, tight crowds, and no self-focus says a lot for my fitness. It tells me that my 1:54 PR is totally crushable in Indy next month.

I hear Amelia has plans to crush her 2:01 at the Indy Mini, too... the 2015 Indy Mini.

Some of Team Amelia

500 Festival Training Series 15K - Race Report

When you're an injured runner, you obsess about not running. Everyday without a run is a day that you "lose fitness," even if you're cross training. When my leg was at its painful worst, I halted my running in order to keep myself from further harm until I could make sure my injury was runnable. That time off running left me with a lot of mileage unachieved. I had no way to tell how ready my body was to race a half marathon. Enter the 500 Festival Training Series 15K in Indy, a course on which I could test my fitness... or lack thereof.

Overnight

With Amelia in our room

Earlier in the year, I had approached Wendy with the idea of running this 15K. We thought it would be a great race to target as a pace run, meaning we would pick a pace and see if I could hold it. After my leg issues, we decided that we would begin at my half PR pace (8:42), and then accelerate at 10K if I felt strong.

To make the event more fun, we also decided to get a hotel room in Indy the night before the race. We chose the Fairfield Inn & Suites in downtown Indy, less than than a quarter-mile from the start line at the NCAA Museum. Amelia, Wendy's daughter, opted to join us with the plan of running the whole race at the 8:42 pace. The stage was set for a fun overnight trip.

"OMG, you're wearing THAT?"

"Race Eve" fuel

After a night of enjoying the mall (especially the food court), we reviewed our race plans and got a good night's sleep, something that usually eludes me in a hotel. The wind, which had been incredibly fierce a few hours earlier, was much calmer in the morning. During the race, the temp was predicted to be in the upper 30°s with a cloud cover. Wendy and I donned matching singlets, shorts, and arm warmers. Amelia chose a T-shirt and a throwaway cover, but she also wore arm warmers and shorts. We each had a bite to eat, and then ran to the start line, a short 300-meter warm-up.

When we arrived at the NCAA Museum to pick up our race numbers, we noticed people looking at us. The looking turned into staring... which turned into pointing... which turned into whispering. I was feeling self conscious and little uncomfortable. Finally, people started approaching us. "You're going to freeze. We can't believe you're dressed like that," said many, most of whom were wearing full tights and at least three layers. I replied to every single one of them, "I'll be cold for a mile, and comfy for eight miles." A few removed at least one of his/her shirts after talking to us.

When we joined the crowd at the start line, we noticed two ladies dressed similarly to us: singlets, shorts, arm warmers... and they MATCHED each other! We approached them and chatted for a bit before the race. Those two would eventually place as third and fourth females. We ran into them in Starbucks after the race and discovered that we have mutual friends. Neat! Always fun to make new pals.

Go!

We crossed the start line seven seconds after the gun sounded and started our Tour de Downtown Indy. During the first mile, people flew past us, but we held our planned 8:42 pace through the gentle ups and downs. We talked, laughed, chatted with a guy who almost wiped out, and marveled at the number of people dressed like it was the dead of winter. The 8:42 pace felt pretty easy, but I felt a bit melancholy, because I knew it would start to feel hard sooner or later.

The first few miles ticked off uneventfully, though we began passing droves of runners. My ankle/heel hurt a bit on the third mile, but I never felt it again in the race. At the beginning of the fourth mile, there was a hill that is steeper and longer than the others on the course. (It's actually a highway exit.) I thought that hill was probably where I was going to start feeling terrible. However, we held our effort level, and at the top of the hill, I felt no different than I had at the bottom of it... except for maybe a little more hopeful.

I passed the time on White River Parkway getting spectators to cheer for Amelia, telling them she was only 11, and "Good HEAVENS, doesn't she look GOOD?" :o) Around this time, one of the runners yelled, "Halfway!" I looked at my Garmin: 4.65 miles. Two thoughts entered my mind: 1.) "That was quick," and 2.) "I'll start feeling crappy sometime in the next 1.5 mi." I don't know why I was so being so negative. Being positive is usually my biggest strength. Luckily, those negative thoughts turned out to be DEAD wrong.

Acceleration Nation

Wendy (#goodfriend) got water at the hydration stations while Amelia and I continued our paces, then she ran the water up to us. (Must be nice to be that fast.)  During one of these instances, around 5.5 miles into the race, I decided to stride a bit and see how it felt.  It wasn't a huge acceleration, but it was faster... and it felt goooooood. I told Wendy then, "I don't want to be cocky, because I know it can change in an instant, but I feel invincible." She replied, "Then let's go." 

We made sure Amelia was OK with us enacting the acceleration plan, and she told us to go, and that she was planning to hold the original pace. Wendy and I accelerated little by little, bit by bit. The awful feelings I was expecting never came, and I continued to be able to hold conversation. At the 10K mark, Wendy suggested we start counting the people I passed. "One... two... three..." we counted. When we'd come upon another runner, Wendy would say, "Here comes number ______ (whatever was next)." 

By the eighth mile, I was working, and I began speaking in only short phrases. I didn't feel bad, I just needed my breath to fuel my muscles. We held an even effort up hills. I was thrilled at how my body was responding when I asked it to push harder. Wendy kept a mother's eye on Amelia behind us, but also kept helping me by counting folks I passed and reminding me to hold it together for just 1.2 more miles... 1 more mile... less than three track laps. The course's last half mile is on a paved pathway by the river. I concentrated on reeling in each runner in front of me. With about 200 meters to go, I saw the finish line, and I dug in.

Mile Splits

Finish

Wendy shouted at me to "go, go, go," then she turned around to get Amelia. I pushed my way to a 1:19:04 finish (8:29 average pace), passing 21 people on that last 5K, which I ran in 25:34. A volunteer gave me water and said, "Almost done." I replied, "Dude. Completely done." :o) I made my way to the side of the chute to wait for Amelia. She finished one minute and 15 seconds after I did, in 1:20:19, an 8:37 pace. She crossed the finish line with her Mom, both of them smiling. 

You can see results of the race here, and my individual stats (splits, pace, heart rate, 'n' such), here.

That I was able to complete this race at an 8:29 average pace, with negative splits, was a HUGE confidence builder for me. I don't even mind that I missed a course PR by three seconds. Knowing that I can hold my half PR pace, and accelerate, in a 15K puts me exactly where I need to be to do well at the Mini on May 3. My sub-1:54 goal is absolutely attainable. I'm also abundantly excited for Amelia to run her first half marathon in less than two weeks. I'll get a front row seat to watch the action, because I'll be running with her.

Oh, and those people who scoffed at our clothes? During the race, we noticed many of them had removed layers and tied the extra clothes around their waists as they ran. It was like a little vindication. :o)

Happy Runners!

In Like An Injured Lion, Out Like An Uninjured Lion

You've heard the phrase, "In like a lion, out like a lamb," right? Well, that adage didn't apply to my March running this year. My first March run was on a Snow Day, and my final March run was in a cold, driving rain. So, it was "in like a lion, out like a lion" for me.

Rebuilding Month

Because of the pain plaguing my left leg, I backed off my mileage at the end of February and began rebuilding at the beginning of the month. I assumed Wendy's post-surgery comeback plan by starting with short 1-2 mi. runs. Here are the stats:

Miles Run: 55.87

Runs: 13

Hours Run: 9.30

Average Run Distance: 4.30 mi.

Average Run Pace: 9:59.51

Average Run Duration: 42:56.5

Average Temperature: 38.5°F

Longest Run: 9.13 mi., March 29

Shortest Run: 1.01 mi., March 3

Favorite Run: March 27, 6 mi.

Total Lifetime Mileage: 3,133.47

Goals

I am woefully off pace to reach 1,000 mi. by the end of the year. However, I'm not (too) worried about it. My mileage will balloon in the late summer and fall as I begin training for the marathon, so I can make up miles then. Also, I would rather miss reaching a mileage goal than push through an injury, thus harming myself further. Not worth it.

The goals that are in clear focus right now are my Mini objectives: to PR (sub-1:54), and if the stars align, to run sub-1:50. I know it is within me to reach both of these goals, but I'm not sure that this is my year. The leg injury has held back my mileage and pace. Wendy and I did a 6-mi. progression run over Spring Break that went well, but one run doesn't give me much information. We are going to run a 15K this weekend to help us gauge race pace for the Mini.

Gus

I learned more about my injury in March as well. The shin splint I was experiencing was a result of bursitis in my heel and ankle area. Because of my fracture history, Dr. Weidenbener always thoroughly checks my bones and joints. An MRI showed that my bones were healthy. (One of the MRI images was humorous because it looked like I had a small alien baby living in my foot. I named him Gus.) The very, very good news was that my injury is "runnable," meaning I can run while healing. I just need to be attentive to it by stretching it, rolling it, ultrasounding it, and "electrocuting" it (with a TENS unit). Careful running and regular care have improved my condition tremendously. The lion that limped into March is now running into April.

April

Warmer days, longer afternoons, and some fun runs are coming. The Training Series 15K is this Saturday, April 5, and it's just over two weeks until Amelia's Derby Half on April 19. The Mini, May 3, is right on April's heels. Sam will also be helping me prepare with weekly strength workouts. Coupled with spring busting out all over, I think April has a lot to offer. Time to hear that lion ROAR! :o)

Shamrock 4-Miler - March 15, 2014

Wendy, Amelia, and I had a great time at the Shamrock 4-Miler.  Because Wendy had only a couple weeks of running in her post-surgery pocket, and my mileage was still low due to my tender, shin-splinted leg, we decided not to "race."  Instead, we planned to just enjoy a themed run with one another.

The Shamrock 4-Miler has long been a favorite of mine.  It starts at a little church on Indy's Monument Circle, and winds around the downtown area before finishing back on the Circle.  It's flat, and there's a lot to see.  Folks dress up in wild costumes to celebrate St. Patrick's Day.  It seems silly to drive a 150-mile round trip to run only four miles, especially when one is not "racing."  However, this race is about more than a run.  It's become a tradition for me to enjoy the Shamrock 4-Miler with friends and family.

Wendy and I have a fun tradition of always matching our clothes when running races.  This time, Amelia joined us, so we decided to be triplets.  We wore our green "FREEkin' Awesome" shirts (a nod to the Nike Free shoes we wear when we run), with black sleeves and black shorts.  To satisfy yet another tradition, we clipped flowers in our ponytails for the race.  Amelia wore deep blue, Wendy wore orange, and I wore green.

Flowers in our hair, flowers everywhere

The race began a little hectically with over a thousand folks battling for space.  After the crowd thinned a bit, we were able to chat and run tangents easily.  The first mile clicked off in 9:04.  Amelia gradually accelerated during the second mile.  At one point, she asked me how fast we were going.  "Do you really want to know?" I asked.  "No, you're right," she said.  We ran that mile in 8:45, and it featured a course change that I hadn't anticipated, but it didn't throw off our race... since we weren't racing. :o)

The first water station was at the beginning of the third mile. Amelia threw water over her head instead of drinking.  Wendy and I had removed our arm warmers, but Amelia had on a full shirt.  The water helped cool her.  We finished our third mile in 8:35, much faster than we planned.  However, the real fun was about to start.

Running into Kathryn at the finish

Amelia started spotting folks she wanted to pass.  Little by little she reeled in folks who had started too quickly.  She did this while talking, singing, laughing, clapping, telling cross country stories, etc.  I was starting to have trouble talking, so I just listened and enjoyed the front row seat.  On the last mile, I saw three friends, two who had finished (Aaron and Douglas), and one who was running (Kathryn).  It always gives me a boost of energy to see friends while running.

When we rounded the corner, the finish line was a mere 100 meters away.  Amelia kicked hard.  I tried to join her, but I couldn't maintain her pace.  She passed three men on that short 100 meters to the finish line, and Wendy and I finished a few seconds behind her.  The final mile was 8:04, and Amelia won her age group. 

Here are the statistics from the race:

Name: Shamrock Run

Date: March 15, 2014

Distance: 4 mi.

Location: Indianapolis, Indiana

Course: Fairly flat

Time: 34:27

Pace: 8:36

Data: Click here to view data.

Place: 307 of 1448

Division: 23 of 170

Results: Click here.

Weather: 9 mph WNW wind, Humidity 65%, 39°

Thanks to Ed for accompanying us and taking photographs!

Getting our hair ready for our pic...

Post-finish pic

I'm a racer. I'm racing. I RACE.

Wendy & Jo on Opening Night
(Yes, we do things besides running.)

My extracurricular life just became a lot more calm.  Ed's season with the BNL basketballers ended on Friday, so there are no more practices or games to attend.  The show in which I was performing, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at Little Theatre of Bedford, closed on Saturday.  Wendy was in that show, too.  Now that our time is unencumbered by seasonal activities, Wendy's tumor is no longer in her foot, and my leg is getting better, it's time to sharpen the focus on our running.

One of the great joys of running is racing. It's exciting to put a race on a calendar, make a race plan, and execute that race plan.  Though I usually have no trouble finding an impetus to train, having a race on my horizon makes me even more excited about running.  It also gives my training a focus as I prepare my body for the task at hand.

Here is a list of the races for which I've registered for 2014.

Shamrock Run
When? March 15
Where? Indy
Distance? 4 mi.
With Whom? Wendy and Amelia
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2007, 46:07. (It was 5 mi. in 2007.)  2008, 36:22.  2010, 37:35.  2011, 33:19.  2012, 33:05.  2013, 32:48.
Are you actually racing this time? No
What's the goal? To have fun.  Originally, I was going to try to PR (which would be about an 8-min./mi. pace), but with both Wendy and I healing from "injuries," we decided to make it a "run for fun" day.  That will be no problem.  This race is always a riot.  It starts and finishes on Monument Circle, has registration at the Columbia Club, and features MANY costumed runners.  Ed, Mom, and I have enjoyed attending this race nearly every year since 2007.  Also, Wendy, Amelia, and I have some super fly green tops to wear.

500 Festival Training Series 15K
When? April 5
Where? Indy
Distance? 9.3 mi.
With Whom? Wendy
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2012, 1:19:02.
Are you actually racing this time? Sort of
What's the goal? To run the whole race at half marathon race pace.  One of my annual goals is to PR in the 500 Festival Mini (under 1:54:19, 8:43 pace), and another is to break 1:50 (an 8:23 pace).  Those are both completely doable, but with the shin splint trouble I've been having, I haven't been able to train the way I'd like.  This race will be a good chance for me to try to hold half marathon pace and see how it affects me.

Derby Festival miniMarathon
When? April 19
Where? Louisville
Distance? 13.1 mi.
With Whom? Wendy and Amelia
Have you run this race before? No

Are you actually racing? No
What's the goal? To cross the finish line with Amelia.  This one is all about her.  I'm just along for the ride!

500 Festival Mini Marathon
When? May 3
Where? Indy
Distance? 13.1 mi.
With Whom? Wendy
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2007, 2:18:22.  2009, 2:15:39.  2010, 2:08:48.  2011, 2:15:16.  2013, 1:58:55.
Are you actually racing this time? Yes, that's the plan.
What's the goal? To PR (break 1:54:19) and to run 1:4x:xx.  If my leg stabilizes well over the next few weeks, I will absolutely start training to reach these goals.  If not, Wendy and I will just run it for fun.  Mini Day is my favorite day of the year.  You can't understand until you have experienced it yourself.  It is two hours (or less) of solid energy and fun.  Many people would add here, "...and you get to run a lap around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway."  Instead, I add, "...and you have to run a lap around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway." :-)

BMS 5K
When? May 16
Where? Bedford
Distance? 3.1 mi.
With Whom? All the students at BMS
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2008, 28:35.  2009, 27:48.  2013, 24:29.
Are you actually racing this time? Yes, that's the plan.
What's the goal? To watch my students succeed, and to beat my boss.  BMS 5K Day is the best day of the school year.  I love to watch my students push themselves to do their very best.  It's inspiring.  Many students are more successful than they ever imagined.  I've run it three times and volunteered three times.  This year, I plan to run.  The BMS 5K is poorly positioned (right after the Mini), for me to be in good 5K shape, but I usually do well.  Last year I beat my boss by 17 seconds.  I'd like to smear him again, but I hear he's been training this year...

Monumental Mile
When? June 5
Where? Indy
Distance? 1 mi.
With Whom? Wendy and Amelia
Have you run this race before? No

Are you actually racing? Yes
What's the goal? To run a mile as fast as I can.  This is a "kick-off" event for the Monumental Marathon, to be held on Nov. 1.  They are promoting it by saying, "If you can run a mile, you can run a marathon in five months!" Smart.  However, they are also encouraging seasoned distance runners to race a hard mile by advertising the course as flat and fast with minimal turns.  I've never run a race this short, but I'm intrigued by the challenge.  It seems a little silly to drive a 150-mi. round trip to run one mile, but being part of an inaugural event is fun.

Red Eye Relay
When? July 19-20
Where? Bloomington
Distance? 100 mi. relay
With Whom? Wendy, Tim, and others
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2013, 14:21:01, 103.92 mi. with Team Embrace The Chaos
Are you actually racing this time? Sort of
What's the goal? To have a blast running while staying up all night.  The premise of the Red Eye Relay is simple: seven-member teams run 21 sections totaling (slightly more than) 100 miles as fast as they can in the dark, sticky night on the back roads of Monroe County.  We start at 5:00 P.M.  Each member runs three legs.  Last year, I ran a total of 12.4 miles in my three legs.  Of course, we want to do the best we can, but the primary goal is to have fun.  That's easy to do at such a fun event.  I should also note that the Red Eye Relay is sponsored by Upland Brewery. :-)

Bedford Half Marathon
When? October 4
Where? Bedford
Distance? 13.1 mi.
With Whom? Solo, though I'll find buddies.
Have you run this race before? No
Are you actually racing? No

What's the goal? To participate in my hometown's inaugural half marathon.  Wendy is going to race this one as an elite, and I'm going to run it as a pace run.  I won't actually race, but it'll be faster than a typical training long run.  There are so many people that are going to do the Bedford Half as their first half marathons.  I'm so excited for all of them!  It will be a great fall day.

Monumental Marathon
When? November 1
Where? Indy
Distance? 26.2 mi.
With Whom? Wendy
Have you run this race before? Yes
How did you do? 2012, 1:54:19 (half).  2013, 5:26:56 (full).
Are you actually racing? Yes

What's the goal? To run the whole thing without passing out, and finish under 4:30.  I was prepared to do just that in November 2013, and I was thwarted by a bad day (see blog post).  Training for this race will include many highway runs and oh-dark-thirty runs, all with Wendy.  Monumental is THE race of 2014 for me.  All the others will be fun, but they are merely stepping stones to this race.  All roads lead to Monumental!

Those are the races for which I'm registered in 2014.  (Technically, I'm not registered for Red Eye, but Wendy will register us as soon as the window opens.)  I'm sure I'll run some other races this year, too, like the Limestone 5K (July), and the Give Thanks 4-Miler (November, duh).  Last year, I raced 102.9 miles.  If all goes well, I'll probably race about the same mileage this year.  Hooray, 2014!