Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Number two is TWO!

What a title.  I'm sorry, I just can't even.  I looked up and here it is, 8 days post Bizzle B day and I haven't posted - what is up with me?  (Besides tendonitis, a huge event for work, and a party for my kiddo).  Lame, Rae, lame.  So, per excuse 1, we gonna keep the words brief and the pics abundant.  Happy birthday, baby (not so baby girl!!)

One week old

One year old!

My big two year old!

Size - 27 pounds.  Baby girl, you eat ALL THE THINGS.  All of them.  Especially the meat, eggs and cheese.  You may be your mommy's girl in some respects, but that ain't it....

Likes: You adore giraffes.  Ice cream (AHH KEEM).  Your swing set.  Dancing.  Hanging out with Rob (and copying everything he does!)  Being a daredevil- nothing scares you (OMG Biz).  Watching the Babies (Word Party) and "Shiny" (just the song). Waking up at 4am (Bizzzzz)

Dislikes: Sleeping alone (I hear ya kid).  When Rob won't play with you (sometimes, you are a pain.  I won't lie). Having your hair washed or combed (did someone say tomboy??)

Sleep: Yeah.  We will just skip right over this one, babes.  You have a few good nights (they are all at Gramma's house) but it seems you know your parents are suckers.  At 10pm.  At midnight. At 3am.  At 4:30.  Elisabeth Jennifer, I have not SLEPT IN 5 YEARS.  But I love you.  It's a darn good thing I do.

Eating: All the things.  Every. Little. Thing.  COOOOOKIES, Ah KEEM, eggos, 'cakes (pancakes), cheese, apples, peanuts, pretzes, popkin, chicken, trees (broc)- you love it.  You are a human garbage disposal and I hope you keep it up!!!

Milestones/Firsts:
Running - you ran your first kids race and love it!  You are so cute when you run, arms a kimbo.
Big girl bed- we outted that crib a few months back.
Counting to 10 (people cannot believe you are only two)
Plane ride - to Kansas and Missouri!  You go girl!
Riding your trike - You love trying to catch Rob

Probably more, but those are the biggest :)

Best Moment: You everyday 'mooches.  You give the best hugs and smooches and are such a little love.  Aww Biz, I am so lucky to have such a wonderful kiddo.

Looking Forward to: Our family trip to Maine next month, Halloween, the best Christmas ever, and experiencing every little day with you and your brother - you two are are simply the best kids a mom could ever ask for and I love you!!

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Oak Tree Half Marathon 2017 - Mud Party


So, the beauty of racing back to back weekends is....you actually finally get my damn race reports while they are still relevant!  And, as an added bonus, no crying into my cherrios over life woes in this post.  Double win.  How can you go wrong?

So, tomorrow, Greg and I are racing the Finger Lakes Tri as a season tri closer (can I even say that when we've only done two this year?  Maybe).  It's a lackluster multi sport year, but big things loom in 2018.  I'll leave that one right there for you to ponder.  More later.

As a last minute decision, I decided to race the Oak Tree Half in Geneseo last Sunday - my alma mater.  While I only ran to he keg back in '04 when I graduated, it's pretty cool to run through my college town and get nostalgic, all for a pretty decent price and a nice timing for a tune up for my fall marathon (Northern Ohio, October 1).  I last ran this race in 2011 as prep for Ironman Maryland (when it was still unbranded) and recalled it as a challenging, hilly race that was fun, but not fast. So, just for kicks, here is my 2011 report.  It's ironic.  We will get back to that one. I finished in 1:59 back in 2011, 9 minutes off my PR of 1:50:09, a time that still irks me to this day because who can't find 10 friggin seconds to go under 1:50?  This girl.

Moving on.

Race day dawned bright and early at the ungodly hour of 2:30am.  No, my alarm didn't wake me.  The un shut uppable 2 year old did.  Thanks, Biz.  While she wasn't grumpy, she was wide awake and ready to go, so I started my pre race ritual of coffee and bathroom....3 hours early.  And, to add some fun to the mix, the 95% chance of rain did not disappoint - there was a fine shower starting outside that didn't let up until 11 or so (race time - 8am).  The course....8 miles of dirt, rocks and mud.  Yesss. Albeit a rocky start, Greg and I set off at 6am, did one potty stop, and managed to grab our gear and line up at 7:55 for the 8am start.

Garmining up, waiting for the RD and ....with no fanfare, a big horn blast...holy crap, we are off!

Miles 1-3 were all raod, with some rollers, and a tour through town (dancing bear still intact!)  I maintained a 7:45-7:55 pace, which was way to fricking fast, but about par.  I felt pretty damn good.  At mile 4, we pulled off the road and the mud slog began.  Mile 4 featured a sharp descent, about 3/4 a mile long (which, spoiler alert, was mile 11....coming back up).  It wasn't too wet yet but you needed to run a fine line to keep traction and off the rocks.

Miles 5-7 were also rollers, but hard to keep any decent pace since it started to get pretty muddy.  I was holding anywhere from a 8:10-8:40 pace, depending on how far I veered and how well I could actually keep from slipping (we got a tough mudder and didn't even pay for it!)

At mile 7 we got a half mile reprieve for pavement, then turned back onto the trail, which was mostly downhill, a nice change, but still hard to find a good path.  I teamed up with a guy and we leap frogged back and forth for a bit - also chatted with an awesome woman who told me I had a beautiful stride - always nice to hear!  Hit mile 10 in 1:22- I knew for sure I could do a 28:00 5k but....as I said before...mile 11.  What goes down, goes back up....

We turned back on the return to town to a few minor rollers and then....up.  Of course, at this point it was pouring and climbing this beast was a giant pain in the ass.  I stopped to walk for 30 seconds, figuring with the grade (9% I think?) walking was actually more efficient.  Mile 11 - 10:15  Yowtch.  I picked up the pace, figuring....less than 20 minutes of death - you so can do this, Rae!

Mercifully, we hit pavement again shortly before mile 12.  The last mile of the course is of fucking course uphill, but it least it was on a damn road.  Mile 12 - 1:41:30.  Shit.  I'm not gonna make this.  Now, I should mention (and had the foresight to mention in 2011) this is NOT a PR course.  So I had no business doing the mental math I was doing, but dammit, I oftem do things I have no business doing, so I didn't care.  Can I hold a 7:45 pace?  Let's give it a shot!

I took off, passing people and thinking...this is it.  You can die later.  You don't get this back (at least until the next race, but come on.  10 seconds, baby).  1:45.....6 to go.

The course ends on a track, which is cool but cruel at the same time.  You are almost there.  But you still have 400 meters to go.  I hot the track in 1:48:30 and knew, I could not do a 6:30 mile.  But I tried.  And crested the finish line....in 1:50:03.

Are you damned kidding me.  What do I do with that???  4. freaking. seconds.  But stop.  I PRed.  By...6 seconds.  But who gives a shit.  I ran the course in the rain, on 3 hours of sleep, beat my last time running it by 9 damn minutes.

And that.  I'll take.  Along with a sackful of Chinese food and a diet coke.  Because....when do I actually do anything that makes sense??

Watch out Oak tree.  Next year....I'll find those 4 seconds.  Or, you know, pick a course that isn't 3/4 dirt and rocks with 300 feet elevation gain in mile 11 alone.  Because....wait, why would I do that??

:-)  Run on, friends.


Saturday, September 2, 2017

Maintenance

The least glamorous part, right?  Keeping it up.  The hard work.  The daily grind.  Who ever posts about such things?

Me.

Last month, alive and shiny, I started my posts with the forecast of beautiful, happy things to come.  Some I have shared, some not (no, I am not pregnant).  Then, as life does from time to time, my world came crashing down.  I won't linger, because it's private, but August pretty much has been the worst month of my life.  And so, in the interest of not clogging the inter webs up with more of my melancholy (and because, lets face it, I was too immersed in either eating Chunky Monkey or running off the stress)I didn't have the bandwidth to blog.

But (I hope) I'm back.  Somewhat tattered, but here.  And focused on maintenance.  See, here's the thing I forgot in the last few years.  You can't, in fact, have it all.  Not one little bit.  You might be at the peak of your athletic fitness, but if you aren't mommin' well, those littles are gonna grow up in a hot second.  You might be the best mom and wife in the world, but at the same time, your company is doing layoffs.  You might, in fact, have a kick ass career and a steamin' hot marriage, but those damn gourmet dinners out make it so your Seven for all mankinds well....are more like an Eleven for all mankind.

Fact.

For the last year (or 3) I've tried to have it all.  And the one piece I thought I never had a problem with...came apart.  Neglect?  Well, yeah, probably.  Because if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

No way.

Love yourself.  Love your significant other.  Love your kids.  Love your family.  Love your friends.  Enjoy your life, and don't worry too much about the small shit.  Work....well, that's gonna be there, and there's no sense killing yourself over it.

And whatever happens....pick yourself up, try not to linger on past mistakes, and go forward the best you know the hell how.

And remember the basic art of maintenance. Regular (but not every day) runs.  Time for cuddles and snuggles.  Calling a long distance friend...or meeting one for a nice long walk and talk.  Date night with your hunny.   Or a long overdue dinner with the woman that raised you.  All of this stuff we "don't have time for".....we do.  We really, really do.

Tomorrow begins fall racing season....Greg and I will be heading to Geneseo, NY to run the Oak Tree Half at my alma mater.  I can't wait.  To run through the streets and farmland where I spent a great, mostly carefree four years.  To enjoy the fact that even though adulting ain't easy, I am here.  And I have so much to be grateful for.  And to forget, for (hopefully under) two hours, any stress except the physical stress I'll remedy with a slice and a garlic knot.

And if Harvey makes an entrance?  Well, who let's a challenge get in their way?  Pretty fitting, since my chem teacher freshman year had that moniker and spent a semester trying to break me.

Nice try, Harvey.  I am woman.  Hear me roar.


Sunday, July 23, 2017

Whatever it Takes

OK, so clearly, I'm a little obsessed with the new Imagine Dragons CD.  There are worse things.  Greg actually turned me on to this song first, which is truly a perfect running song, then it all sort of fell in place from there.  It's not often I take to a whole CD, so good job, Dan Reynolds.
Much respect.

It's about time to do the whole shit sandwich compliment shtick, so hang on to your handbags, ladies.  Pre CFC, I used to work at a battered women's shelter, straight out of college.  It was touchy feely, burn out work, with little pay and many returns.  I'm not sorry I left, for many reasons, but it really laid a foundation for the work that I do now and in some ways how I live my life.  First of all, I've never appreciated my life full of first world problems until I worked with the women in the shelter.  Heart breaking.  Second, I've never appreciated the men in my life quite so much.  Third, and oddly enough, I picked up on quite a few work etiquette and supervisory lessons while there, which is only odd because the woman that supervised me, quite frankly, hated anyone not African American or with anything higher then a high school education.  And no, that was not in my head.  She did teach me two things though, that I carry to this day - 1. Don't ever bring a problem to someone that you haven't at least considered a feasible solution to (something I torment my employees with to this day) and 2. If you're gonna hand someone a shit sandwich, at least use good bread.  In other words, may sure you buffer that shit with something edible.

So here's my edible.  And I am remiss in the fact that I didn't start with this post, so sorry Carolyn, wherever you are!

While I was busy poo pooing my sad little circumstances (see what I did there?) I neglected to even mention the good.  And there IS quite a bit of good.  Sometimes you just have to dust off the crap (fine, I'll stop) to really see it.  Sometimes it's just harder to recognize.

Truth.
It's always easy to react to toxic people. To internalize their negativity and let it affect you.

But how often do we really, truly believe those that build us up?  Almost never.  And it's really easy for me to brush off the kind words of the people that do believe in me.  I have the best husband, who listens to my tales of woe and tells me to either get the eff over it, or to get the eff over them (after hugging me and handing me chocolate, of course).  I have a pretty stellar circle of friends that also listen to my BS and help walk me through the problem, in general reminding me that haters gonna hate (in PC terms).  I have a pretty excellent family that also bends over backwards to surround me with love. I also have an awesome team of co-workers, that, even though far away, know how to make me laugh and get through the day.  All wonderful people.

So why is it so easy to listen to the negative?  I don't know.  But I'm done with letting salty people get to me, as much as I can, at the very least.  Baz Lurhmann, childhood icon for pithy phrases, said it best "Remember compliments you receive.  Forget the insults.  If you succeed in doing this, tell me how". Well, probably someone said it before he did.  But back in 1999, we all thought he was a genius song writer that said everything that every world wise seventeen year old needed to hear.  And I guess it somehow, someway, it stuck, right?


So, it's time to move on, folks,  Just do it.  Whatever it takes.  To climb out of that hole and "take me to the top".  Gotta love song inspo. ( I know you just you tubed the song.  You're welcome.)

And, as my buddy Dan might have intended, that song really is a runner's love.  I burned it on my running play list Friday night for the Walworth 5k, a little race Greg and I run every year that coincided with his birthday this year. Yesterday, on a humid as mofo morning, of course.  I'm not going to bore anyone with a full race report, but I managed to shave 30 seconds off my time for a respectable 24:12 on a hilly as hell course, 3rd OA woman and a nice age group win.  GOOD THINGS.  Remember the good things.

Then I came home and promptly signed up for a marathon.  Because, adrenaline.  I'll be racing the Northern Ohio Marathon on October 1, a tribute to saying adios to my early thirties and the 30-34 age group the day before my birthday.  It'll be epic.  Can i break 4 again?  Stay tuned.  The pressure is on,  To train.  And ya know, actually write about it :-P

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Walking the Wire

Life.  It's such a  balancing act, isn't it? Imagine Dragons said it best.

 I remember being sixteen years old, when life stood before me, unabashedly making plans for how I was going to take over the world.  Mind you, in my naive teenage mind, that consisted of besting my parents, getting my own way, telling my teachers to take a number, and doing what I wanted to.  Finally.

Eighteen years later, I realize that this whole "adulting" thing has larger ramifications than choosing to eat pop tarts and diet coke for breakfast (which are delicious, but you pay for it later).  And so it goes.  All of those wonderful things that were going to be mine for the taking...they have consequences.  And not exactly in the way I had thought it might.

For those wonderful friends that have followed me with any sense of regularity (what's that Rae, you never blog), you know I've been struggling lately.  Which, to be frank, has baffled me.  When I look back at my sixteen year old self, I see a teenager that took life by the horns.  That didn't give a shit what anyone thought.  That loved a boy with all her heart (even if he didn't know who she was).  Who had the best gang of six buddies who not only totally got her, but would beat the shit out of any guy that messed with her (all my "older brothers", if you will).  Who knew who she was, without reservation.

Who also dreamed of big things.  A great career, a beautiful family, two kids, a white picket fence, a funny, handsome and loving husband.  And undoubtedly a famous thespian or dancer.

Things change.  But not too much.  As I hit my mid thirties, I realize that I have everything I want right now, swapping out marathon for dance, triathlon for theatre.  I have such beautiful kids.  And my husband is undoubtedly the most perfect man for me.  I have a great career. A wonderful family.  Friends. And a basement full of Age Group medals that confirm that I am an athletic success - healthy, happy, and successful.  Everything but that picket fence.

So what's wrong?  Why am I mechanically attending to things?  Checking it off my list?  Missing the passion that I know my teenage self would be horrified to find missing?  I wanted to find out.  With the last few months a hectic and frustrating mish mosh of increasing stress at work, holding down the fort while Greg worked two jobs, and some health issues that are probably due to the first two, I have found myself becoming more and more annoyed with everything around me.  I am not a happy person to be around.  I've dusted off my resume and considered strongly the possibility of leaving a job I've loved for the last ten years.  I've even sat down and reconsidered base things that I am passionate about that don't seem to be so amazing any more.

With that, I knew I needed a reset.  I took the week off from work, and have re-connected.  With my kids.  With my husband.  And mostly, with myself.  Through some long, forgiving runs, a few naps, a pedicure, and even (gasp) retail therapy (yes, I went shopping for things other than running shoes.  If nothing else shocks you in this post, this should).  And I have thought.  And thought.  And thought some more.

And I've realized quite a bit.  Put simply, I've managed to let other people affect me way too much lately.  Energy vampires, if you will.  And I'm disgusted with myself for it.  I've listened when people criticize the way I parent. The way I work. The way I eat. The way I run.  The way I write.  And, no, I am not kidding, the way I send emails.  What in the actual eff is that all about?  I know.  I've sat there and taken a bunch of crap from people that are 100% pot calling the kettle black, and I've stewed in my own juices about it until I have emerged a bitter, resentful person.  Who not only took in their unnecessary, and not helpful words, but allowed them to define me.  And that's just sad.

When I was a kid, the famous phrase quite a few authority figures used on me was "Do as I say, not as I do".  Which we all know is just a shitty way to let an adult explain away bad behavior without feeling any of the consequences because, ya know, adulting, man.  When I became a parent and a boss, I swore I would never project that image to anyone that answered to me.  It creates an environment that fosters forced discipline, but never will foster respect or a good relationship.  Ever.

I managed to walk away from those "do as I say"  people for so long.  And now I find myself seeing it almost on a daily basis, either at work or in certain social circles.  And, much like a kid going through adolescence, it's set me back into a world of uncertainty, of faint dissatisfaction that festers, and lingers.

It's easy to point a finger.  To place the blame on someone else.  To let their insecurities and bad nature leech onto you and define you.  But I'm done with that.

The way I have been has been...safe.  Full of defined, easy actions that have been set forth by society and deemed appropriate.  Pay your bills.  Put in your forty hours. Do the laundry. Give the kids a bath.  Run for exactly the 60 minutes to fulfill your "10,000 steps".  Yada yada yada.  They are also boring.  And my sixteen year old self shakes her head at me.  So does my twenty five year old self, who stared at Mirror Lake in 2010, the morning her her first ironman, 3000 people strong, facing 140.6 miles of uncertainty and....jumped in.

Know what happened in 2010?  I crashed.  Yep.  Crashed my bike at mile 42.6.  I cried for 2 minutes, stood up, took inventory of body and bike parts, and rode the last 80 miles of that course with a bent frame.  And then ran the 26.2 mile marathon dirt streaked and bloody.  And I fucking finished with a smile on my face, having taken my own world by storm.

Take risks.  Be alive.  Be uncomfortable. Just DO IT.

This is my new mantra.  (With some help from Nike).

So look out down below!

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Fantastic Four

Ok, I'm back.  You knew I would be.  But today, it's not about me (thank goodness, Rae, you're such a narcissist!).  It's about a boy.  Specifically, this boy that has my heart.  And always will.  He's funny.  He's a snuggle.  He gives the best hugs ever, and he likes chocolate the best (who doesn't?)  And, you got it, he calls me mom.

I can't call him a baby anymore cause...today he is 4!  What a kid.  It's wild to know that four years ago, this lil firecracker made an appearance, and that life has changed forever in the best way possible.  Today, we are celebrating with lots of cake, swinging (put together by the best team ever - Thanks EJ, Jeff, John, Drew, and Daddy!) and a Red Wings Game later.  What a day.  What a guy.

A blast from the past....when Rob was Born...One...Two...Three...

And 4!!!

 Size - 36 pounds.  Right smack where you should be.  You are 41" high, which is slightly taller than average, but of course, perfect.  You have long legs, a super strong tummy, and a big boy buzz cut.  Not a baby.  Not a toddler.  A little boy.  Be still, my heart.


Likes: You still love cars with a passion, and asked me for 10 Lamborghini's this year.  Real ones.  Ill get back to ya, bud.  You also are obsessed with "Secret Life of Pets" and also would like a mastiff, JRT, and Pomeranian for your birthday.  And while I am sure your Aunt Shel would help you out with the last one, Daddy would kill us both.  So, keep dreaming dreaming big, bud.  You also love playing car racing games, jumping in bounce houses, riding your big boy bike with training wheels, and playing in your pool. Seems like a pretty good life for a 4 year old!
  
Dislikes: Eating meat.  When things don't go your way.  Being told "NO".  And when Biz tries to play with your toys and you don't want to share.  Aside from the meat eating thing, I currently deal with these issues quite a bit at work, so I don't know what to tell ya, bud.  Suck it up, buttercup.  And enjoy the flinging yourself on the floor and screaming thing while you can.  It stops being acceptable when you turn about 6.  Well, maybe.  I might try it at my next staff meeting and see what happens.


Sleep: Aside from when you have bad dreams and need snugs (hey, not complaining), once we get you into bed, you sleep like a champ.  10-11 hours a night.  It's the 437 easy steps to get you there that we are working on....


Eating: Still adore fruit, pizza, anything chocolate, beans and rice, "golden cereal" and "talking cereal" (honey nut cheerios and rice krispies) and turkey dogs.  Sometimes it's a struggle to get you to eat, but you do well.


Milestones/Firsts:Preschool.  Riding a bike with training wheels.  Becoming fully potty trained.  Counting to 30.  And your use of astronomically grown up words like "transparency" and aerodynamic" (cause when you have triathletes for parents...) correctly.  You are pretty much off the charts in intelligence...now it's time to get your emotions there with ya.  Hang in there bud.  Equilibrium happens (see what I did there??)


Best Moment: I can't even improve on my 3 year old sentiments = Watching you and Biz.  Buddy, when you were born, I truly did not believe I had a bigger capacity for love.  I was wrong.  Watching my big boy and my baby....the two of you are just simpatico.  It is amazing.  I love you both to buts and pieces, and my life is so much better because you are in it!! 


Edited to add at 4.....the two of you are so amazing.  you teach your sister so much, and you are her biggest protector.  Watching my first baby grow into such a caring, intelligent, lovable boy is indescribable.  I love you so much, my ro-bear.

Looking Forward To: All the cool things we get to learn and do every day....the zoo, swimming, running together (you want to do a 5k!), riding bikes, swinging, reading, snuggling, a few upcoming vacations....everything.  From the mundane to the exceptional, my life with you in it is astronomically better then I ever could have dreamed.  I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BEAR (hands raised in the air)..  And that's a lotta muches!!!



Monday, June 19, 2017

Hitting the Wall (RDC 2017)

I'm not quite dead yet.  I swear.  For the last month, I keep opening blogger, readying to write a post about a race (yep, I've done 3 in the last 6 weeks, you heard it - a half marathon, a sprint tri, and a 5k), how much work sucks (no, I'm not outing myself on social media, it really legitly is pretty terrible right now, save a few people keeping me sane) or how my flippin 20 month old still won't sleep through the damn night.

Who needs to hear this?  No one.  No one at all.  You don't tune in to hear what you can hear around the dinner table, even if I tell it with colorful anecdotes and quite a few four letter words.  I also have in my "write dammit, rae" folder (no, I didn't stutter) quite a few healthy recipes to share, crock pot time savers, more "how to play for less" concepts, and some other gold star worthy pinterest shit.  That, you might want to check out.  But I have been blocked.  Just freaking blocked.  And every time I open up the blog, something else super important, like a school project, laundry, or tweezing my eyebrows, just seems to get in the way (no I don't tweeze.  Have you met me??).  Bllllazity blah.

Anyways.  Last week one of my faithful readers (actually, he might be the only one left - are you there god?  It's me, Rae) asked me if we put the blag to bed.

Nah.  He's just napping.  So it's time to just sit and let shit come out.  Just dedicate 15 minutes twice a week and do it, Rae.  DOOOO IT.  So fine. We will start small.  How about a race report?  We can go backwards......to Saturday.

My friend Jen (who bless her, has twin boys Rob's age) race directs a 5k each year to honor her older brother, who passed away from cancer in 2014.  She donates all the money to Wilmot Cancer society, and quite honestly, puts on one of the best 5ks I've done - in terms of course, amenities, and cost.  It's $18 to run, discount if you run with a team (which we did, even though we lost a few prior to the race!) and you get a nice (not flat) 5k in Mendon Ponds, a tech t, post race pizza and TONS of goodies, free kids race with ribbons, balloons and a DQ cone, and also entrance for tons of door prizes!  Whats not to love?

Team "SASS" (Stubborn and Spirited Sloggers)
Greg and I gathered a team of 10 (7 race morning) and decided to race for fun.  Race morning dawned with 82 degree temps by 9am (WHAT!) but hey, it's "only" 3 miles.  Right.  In 2016 I did the race in 26:20, but I pushed Biz in the jogging stroller, so I figured 24 something was about right, heat notwithstanding.  I missed placing in my AG but thhhismuch, so I was itching for some payback.  Grandma agreed to watch the kids on the playground (of course they were gonna do the kids race!) so Greg and I met up with her, got prepped, dumped ice water on our heads (you bet I did) and got ready to go!

Mile 1 (6:45 - WHAT??) So, clearly I went out way the hell too fast.  My usual pace for a 5k is 7:45ishish (I haven't run enough to know) but I haven't seen a 6:xx on my watch...ever.  So that was fun.  I sorta half cheered myself on and half grimaced when I thought about hanging on for 2 more miles but hey, embrace the suck.

Mile 2 (7:43) Much better.  There were a few uphill sections, but Nothing too bad - it was cool to see the fasties cruisin back, i counted out and I was 6th OA woman, which Greg also let me know when i passed him - earning a chuckle from the guy next to me about my pit crew! Saw the rest of my team on the way back, everyone looked great but...hot.  Heat was starting to climb.

Mile 3 (8:23) File this one under what the eff was i thinking at mile 1.  I actually stopped to walk - my legs felt ok but it was so damn hot out that my throat started to close.  I had almost caught #5 woman too but she was tougher than me today!

 Hit the top of the last hill and ran in the last nubbin for an overall time of 23:52 for 3.16 miles - 7:35 pace overall. Short of my PR (22:45) but it was a hilly course, hot as hades, and hey, two of the women in front of me were a Kenyan and an Olympic trials qualifier (seriously!)  Overall results - finished 27th out of 124, 6 out of 65 or 70 women, and won my age group, which netted a nice medal and a $15 med ved gift card - new shorts for me!

Post race we hung out, cooled off, watched the kids run (Rob came in 3rd and immediately threw a fit because he wanted to run the BIG race - next year, kid!) and stuck around for raffle prizes -which was good because I won an Attayne gift card for some more running gear - feeding the obsession :-)

Rob's Race!

Anyone interested in Running Down Cancer in 2018 - HIGHLY recommend this race!  I also put in a word with the RD to make it about 60 and cloudy next year.....