Running of the Green 5 Miler 2019 Race Report: Slam the Hammer Down

And just like that, the 2019 race season is underway!  Saturday Greg and I ran in what was previously known as Johnny's Running of the Green - even though the sponsoring pub no longer runs it, a new sponsor, Rochester Running Company, took over.  This race is pretty much the season opener for the Roc running season - its relatively short (5 miles), only has one incline, and features shots on the course and post race green bagels and green beer.  What's not to like?

I've raced this course many times - 2006-2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 and last in 2015, when I was pregnant with Biz.  The past few years life with two kids, ultra training, and a slew of dumb excuses got in the way, but with my spring marathon approaching, I decided I needed to at least race before it, even if it was short compared to a marathon.

With that in mind, I took stock of my previous PR of 38:06 and knew I could break it unless the weather was horrible or I was incredibly stupid.  I set the goal of going under a 7:30 pace, which, the day before the race, my sensei advised me was aiming low and gave me a new goal:  sub 7:20 minute miles, or 36:35.  Which I duly noted race morning in the most profesh way:

Race morning dawned windy and cold, with temps in the low 30s - after the winter we have had, I would totally take it.  I forwent my usual breakfast of oats and ate a bagel with butter - cause, you know, trying new things on race day is always wise.  Greg and I dropped the kids off with our cousin who lives by Highland Park, and made our way to the Blue Cross arena.

This is the best race for socializing - as the official kick off of the Roc running season, 1200 of our best friends were ready to run, drink beer, and take shots on course.  We caught up with a bunch of old friends, and new ones, including Barry, a fellow Reaper who offered me a pre race beer, and when I declined, insisted on a pre race swig of beer (what is wrong with me - I hate beer when not racing, but the moment called, so there you go) and some of the Tri-Go guys (The Boy and the Outlaw....seriously...these guys should just take it to Hollywood) - I also met the Girl and the Girl's brother - what a great group.  We hung out for awhile with a few fellow runners, did our pre race warm ups and got ready to go!  I made a last minute decision to fore go the bun huggers - not sure if it had more to do with the weather or my hesitancy to race in my underwear be less aerodynamic, but hey, there's always next time.  

With ten minutes to go, we headed out to line up and I found my buddy Ken, who I clearly have attachment issues with during workouts.  He let me know he was aiming for a sub 35 minute finish, which was out of my reach, but I figured I could see where he started and go from there.  The gun sounded, and we were off!  

My instructions pre race were to start with a 7:30 mile and try to descend - I didn't have the heart to admit that I would never follow this; there is so much adrenaline in the first mile of a race that my goal was to not blow up so I screwed the rest of the race.  I caught up with the Boy and ran with him for about half a mile until I realized he was holding a 6:35 pace, which was just stupid for me.  Hit mile 1 in 6:42, feelin' good in a holy shit did I just do that way.  Then the wind started to pick up, and the bearable crosswind turned into a headwind.  Mile 2 was a little rougher, clocking in at 7:11, and I finally resolved the online debate I'd been a part of for the last few nights - "Is a 5 mile race a long 5k or a short 10k?" Answer:  It's a short 10k.  Don't go balls out like a 5k, you moron. 

 Miles 2-3 were the worst of the race, running wise, best of the race in terms of people - the course does a u-ey at mile 2.5, which was a crappy uphill stint, but awesome in terms of seeing all the fasties come out before you turned around and all the people behind you as you came back toward the finish.  I started counting women and figured I was in 14th place at that point, which was unfathomable as I guessed there were hundreds of women at this race (there were 592, to be exact).  On my way back I saw Ken, who was about 10 seconds behind me and yelled at me to not let him catch me, and Greg who was looking awesome!  Hit mile 3 in 21:10, and realized I was gonna PR in the 5k during this race - which I soon did, in 21:42.  Mile 4 was GLORIOUS.  The wind at my back, on my way back to the finish, slight downhill for a net mile 4 of 6:56.  

I then realized I would likely go under 36:00.  Until that pre race beer started coming back up.  F*CK.  I braved the incline of the Ford St. bridge and felt like I was gonna die....got passed by the only woman to pass me during the race here (god i hope she want in my AG - WHY DO RUNNING RACES NOT PUT AGES ON CALVES).  With half a mile to go, I decided to lay it all out on the table and just GO.  Fleet Feet cheered me on with their awesomeness with a quarter mile to go and I laid down the hammer.  Hit mile 5 in 6:52 and since I can't run tangents to save my soul, I crossed the finish line in 35:24 - 5.05 miles with an average pace of 7:01.  I immediately dry heaved on the side of the road, a sure sign I actually raced with all I had.  

Post race, I jogged back through the race course to cheer Greg on, who set a new PR of just over 41 minutes.  Caught up with some buddies of ours, including Ken, who I somehow managed to vade and come in seconds ahead of....how, I don't even know.  Caught up with the Tri Go fam, who finished super strong in 32 minutes and 33 minutes, respectively - (I really need to cash in on that piggy back ride next time).  Found Barry and expressed my gratefulness of the PR beer (PBR??) and "bought" him a beer in return.    

Checked the results and HOLY SHIT I came in 2^nd in my age group.  How the heck did that happen?  I have never even come close to placing in this race.  I did what any rational person would do and checked out 1^st place to find I had missed it by 3 seconds.  WTF.  I did a little mental gymnastics to think if that was the chick that passed me at mile 4….and I don’t think so.  Either way, after beating myself up a bit, I realized I 100% gave it my best and made peace with it. 

Stuck around for the award ceremony to collect the goods and found out that less than 20 seconds separated place 1 and place 4 in my AG – which is insane. I also found out I was 15^th overall women out of 600 which just blows my mind.    I immediately felt better about my missed 1^st placed and posed for pics with the amazing fasties that placed in their age group.

After the race I headed out for a 4 mile easy run and a day full of fun with family – what a great season opener – I couldn’t be more pleased.  What does this mean for my marathon in 2 weeks?  I have no clue.  A 5 miler and marathon have so little in common that it’s tough to guess.  But the confidence is there to give it my best shot, so this “pre game” race was totally worth it.  Runnin’ of the Green for the win!

Coffee Milk Week 12: The Magical Mystery Tour

It's like the old saying goes....some weeks you're the hammer, some weeks you're the nail.  And sometimes, you have to decide, well, fuck it, I'll just be a power tool.

And now that I've gone that way with my analogy, I'm not sure I like it.  Fine, I'll be a tool.  Nothing new there, anyways, am I right?

Don't answer that.

And now that I have absolutely no idea where that even came from, let's talk about the week.  Oh right, the mind set.  That's where I was going.  After last weeks shitty runs, the whole "life throws you a curve ball" came into play at the beginning of week 12 in the form of an email from the Race Director of my upcoming marathon - "Gary Oceansport".  I wish I was so cool to have a name like that.  While Gary Oceansport (let's call him "GO", which may be even more appropriate given his RD status) may have many talents in terms of Race Directing, it would seem that course information is not one of his fortes.  The typical RD sends out an email about a month in advance with race logistics - timeline, packet pickups, important course markers such as where the porta potties and Gatorade are, etc.  They also usually include a map of the race course from mapmyrun or similar.

This email was no exception, right down to the maps.  The email narrative referred to the attachments and made sure we knew the numbers on the maps were not miles, but rather, turns.  And that the course would be marked very clearly.  Good to know.  And then I opened the attachment labelled "marathon".  And saw this.

I'll give you a few minutes to review that.

In case you're still confused (hell, I am 7 days later), that's 40 turns for a marathon.  And a random cross over to say "hey" to the people a half mile behind you as you RUN THEM OVER.  I did what any normal person would do - I freaked out and whined on social media.  My favorite comment off of it likened it to a maze on the back of the paper kiddie menu place mat at a family restaurant, which, when you think about it, it does bear resemblance to that, or...

A kids cereal box.  Luckily, I have ample experience with kiddie cereal from Rob and Biz, so this week I scrapped my run training and just navigated cereal box mazes with the hope that this kind of race specific training will get me out of Rhode Island alive.  Or maybe not.

All kidding aside, the reveal of the new course has me re-thinking my race goals in terms of A) getting lost, B) running the tangents of 40 turns, and C) losing momentum on 40 turns.  I'm not a happy camper, but one of the ways to handle endurance sports well is your head space to deal with these mind f*cks, so I'm trying to be positive.  Meanwhile, I'm putting my affairs in order and plotting elaborate kidnapping plans to bring someone with me to act as my lead biker.  So far, I'm striking out with  a big fat zero for takers, but I'm pretty stubborn charming.  I'll get a sucker. Or just throw 'em in my trunk.  Too bad I don't have a trunk.  Shit.

In terms of actual running, it was a pretty fantastic week.  What was supposed to be a step back week ended up pretty average in terms of mileage - I upped my speed for my speed work (1.5 mile repeats at a 7:45 pace) and nailed my tempo run.

My planned long run of 10 miles ended up being a 14 mile long run with The Banter, who, despite my best efforts at being annoying as shit during our partner runs, still agrees to train with me.  It was a fantastic workout done at an 8:24 pace that allowed us to chat the whole time and afterwards, I still felt like I had quite a bit left in the tank.  Score.

Mileage for the week:

Running: 53.9 miles

Swimming: 5000 yds

Biking: 60 miles (super proud of this one - I actually got on my bike 4 times!)

With less than 4 weeks to go till race day, I have one final long effort, a race Saturday (local 5 miler to practice actually racing before I toe the line at 26.2, even if its short), and time to spend nailing down nutrition and super important things like race outfits.

Even though I was thrown the curve ball, I'm still in the game.  While it might not be the perfect race to BQ, it still smells like a PR to me if I play my game right and mother nature cooperates :)  And if I make sure to eat my Lucky Charms while studying the back of the box, of course.  After all, its almost "GO" time!

Coffee Milk Week 11: I Go To Extremes

And so it goes.  I suppose after 3 round the bay runs, a non PR jaunt was in the books.  I also should expect that not every week of training will be unicorn streamers and balloons.  Or perhaps I should get a clue and reset my expectations to the reality channel and give myself a break.

We all know that won't happen.

And before I get into my while "I'll take some whine with that cheese" mode, I should mention that most of my runs this week went great.  I had mile repeats that kicked ass at a 7:15 pace (yes, I finally updated that one!), a great 8 mile tempo run, and my easy runs were even run at a pace that would leave my non existent coach proud of me.  (9 minute miles, FINALLY).  I even took the day off from running before my 16 mile long run.  Look at me, being all smart and shit.  (I'm kind of lying here...I did do a 25 mile ride, but hey, I didn't run.  Let's be positive here).

The Hanson plan calls for 16 miles as the longest run during their plan - the thought is that you have fatigued yourself so much that you are training the last 16 miles, not the first.  16 miles shows up again one more time, directly after a 10 mile long run effort.  Those bastards.  It makes sense, when you think about it.

At this point, I really feel the need to remind myself that long run pace is an 8:45.  It makes me look like an ass when I tell the story of the long run.  I'll need it in writing when I taper and become a run hole.

If that ain't accurate, I don't know what is.

Ahem, long run.  So, of course, it was IBR long run day, which is really less of a long run pace and more of a how far can you go faster than you want to without dying kind of thing.  I ran with my buddy Ken, who becomes more and more awesome to me every week (today was no exception).  He was of course amenable to my 16 mile run idea, because he's super cool like that.  Much to our delight, there were 8 people crazy enough to join in for the 7am run - weather was low twenties, light snow, crap roads.  Awesome.

Crap would be the theme for this run.  Ken had been sick during the week and did a 4.5 hour brick on Saturday.  I had no excuse for my stiff legs other than the fact that I'm kind of a wimp, but at least I owned it.  We set off and realized about 6 miles into the run it wasn't gonna be a PR day (which, really, after Ken told me we hit the back 13.1 miles two weeks ago in 1:41:xx, come on.  You gotta know that that's not happening every week).

Time to hit the pavement!

We did pretty well up until about mile 10, when the downhills became steep, and the uphills steeper.  I usually feel like I'm holding Ken back somewhat - this time, it was pretty evident we were riding the struggle bus together.  We tried not to trash our quads going down, ran half the uphill, then power walked.  We still hit 13.1 in under 1:45, which was nothing to sneeze at.  And thank god I didn't sneeze, because I'm pretty sure I would have answered the age old "If a bear runner craps in the woods and no one is around to hear it, did it really happen?"

Except in my case, poor Ken.  And at least I hit up the god send of a port a potty some angel placed right on the bay at mile 14.

And now that you've stopped reading (bless you if you had the nerve to continue) I can assure you that the last two miles, while nothing to write home about, were uneventful.  We finished the 16 miles in just under 2:10 (2:12 with potty break) for an 8:07 pace.

It's ridiculous that we were both bummed, given the fact that an 8:07 pace is basically marathon pace for me in my wildest dreams.  But hey, neither Ken or I are sane - as I headed to the Y to swim after doing a 2 plus hour run and he headed home to ride the bike.

These people I hang out with.  They crazy.  And I love them.

Week 11 Miles:

Running: 54
Biking: 45
Swimming: 4 (ish)

This upcoming week is a step back week again, which includes two ten milers and upping the tempo run and speed run length (9 miles and 2 mile repeats, respectively).  So...to specify, a long run step back and that's about it.  Hey, no one said chasing dreams was easy.  And thank god for that, cause I don't do easy!

Coffee Milk Week 10: Push It (Real Good)

And here we are, with our weekly installment of holy shit, Rae's still running.  And likes to talk about it.  What else is new.  I apologize in advance for wasting 5 minutes of your day, but hey, I appreciate the fan club.  I'll remember you when I'm famous for god knows what.

This was a step back week for me, which means little except the volume of the long run was decreased slightly.  Most standard plans give you an actual recovery week, Hanson posits you are a tough idiot  badass and don't need one.  While I felt a little off a few weeks ago, this week I was raring to go after my long run success of week 9.  On the books for the week included back to back 10 milers at an 8:50 pace, 3 easy runs, and a 7-8 mile tempo run.

I learned a few things during this 7 day stretch, namely that I fail at nailing a long run pace outside, regardless of whether or not I run solo.  My 10 milers clocked in at an 8:19 pace and an 8:18 pace respectively, a good 30 seconds plus faster than prescribed.   This is why I treadmill run (reason zillion) - I can control the pace. But when the temps are in the mid 30s and sunny in February, you pull on your tights and get outside.  I'm just really glad I don't really train with the Hanson brothers, as their philosophy is to dole out push ups to runners that complete the runs faster than the pace prescribed.  Looks like I owe them about 400 push ups.  Yikes.

My tempo run also clocked in at a faster than prescribed pace, but thankfully I have runner's ego to blame for that one.  My plan asked for 7-8 miles at an 8:10 pace.  I did this run with The Banter, a local triathlete who bosses me around at the pool (don't kid yourself, I ask for it and basically seek him out for said bossiness). 

The Banter doesn't do selfies, so I had to improvise.

Despite our repertoire of  99% sarcasm, we actually push each other pretty well and I'm glad to have him as a training partner and friend.  We did 7 miles together for a shared tempo run and hit the overall pace well, though the four middle miles clocked in at 7:31, 7:35, 7:25 and 7:15 - all of which are either at my mile repeat pace or slightly faster.  Whoops.  Never underestimate the power of not looking like a wuss during a tempo run - he kicked my ass and it was great! This was an awesome boost for me, as I have a 5 mile race coming up and would love to smash a 7:30 pace overall. I also think I need to revisit my speed work paces - clearly I am not giving myself enough credit!

The rest of the weeks runs were pretty spot on - I still can't find recovery pace like they want me to, but aim for a 9 minute mile, which seems like a good compromise (actual recovery pace - 9:15).  I got in two good swims and two good bikes, which helped with the recovery and tri-base.  I even did some yoga (or someone stole my garmin and uploaded the stats.  I'm gonna go with that).

Week 10 mileage:

Running: 48.6 (WTF is that)
Biking: 30
Swimming: 4900 yd

Up next is a pretty heavy duty week - mile repeats, two 8 mile tempo runs, and a 16 mile long run (where we will not attempt to break my half PR again...and I so am not crossing my fingers behind my back).

6 weeks till show time...getting excited!

Coffee Milk Week 9: Walkin on Sunshine

I swear, training for a marathon (or any other endurance event) is like being in a long term relationship.  There are periods of time where it seems to be the best thing in your life - you can't stop smiling, the world is made up of unicorns and rainbows, and people start sending you hate mail based off of the happy bullshit you post online.

Then the world turns, and its the biggest pain in the ass on the planet.  Everything is wrong.  You just can't even.  You don't post this crap online, because, hey, who needs to see that you had a shitty day and are consoling yourself with a bag of M&Ms and a glass of wine.  And you look for the closest victim to unleash your bitchiness on (who usually is your significant other...unless he's the problem, then god help him :-P)

But no, this is not about Greg.  I swear.  Ahem.  This is about running.  Last week seemed to be my "meh" week, where I seriously started to reconsider everything related to running, especially doing it fast.  While I got everything done, running 10 miles at an 8:45 pace was a ginormous chore, leading that nasty logic mode of my brain to question how I expect to hold an 8:05-8:30 pace for 26.2 miles (I always calculate based off 26.5, as no one runs a perfect marathon...to go under 3:45 I need to run an 8:30 pace, to BQ, I need under 3:35, which is an 8:05 pace).  While I intend to go for the former this marathon, I have absolutely no qualm about taking the latter :-D.

Then, the cyclical nature of coming off a back week intervened this week.  I nailed my tempo run, even with a bathroom stop. (8 miles at 8:05).  I slayed my half mile repeats (currently at 7:15 pace - I need to re evaluate this).  And my long run.  Oh, my long run.

I've blogged about my runs with the Irondequoit Bay Runners before - a great group of (mostly) guys who are serious runners - training for Boston, running a sub 1:30 half, or a 4:30 half ironman.  You know, simple goals like that.  I wish they would get ambitious.  I've run with them a few times, at the behest of my friend Ken, who is an ageless wonder that seems to get faster as he ages up (and also happens to be a great guy).  The loop they run is 14 miles, has 800 feet elevation gain, most of which lives in 2 steep hills in the last 3 miles.  The first time I ran it with them, I hit my 13.1 mark in 1:48, which was a minute faster than my half marathon race PR.  The second time, amidst black ice, we hit the half marathon mark in 1:47.  These crazy guys, while running much faster than I really should for a long run (these are usually done one to two minutes slower than race pace - Hansons method calls for a bit faster - my long run pace is 8:45).

I've used the IBR guys to help pace me every other week, lest I burn out.  Sunday called for 15 miles.  Friday, I managed to jack up my calf swimming (don't ask) so I ditched my run for a bike ride Saturday and compressioned and soaked the shit out of it.  Sunday dawned a beautiful 20 degrees with light winds at 7am - perfect February weather when you live in NY.  I met up with Ken, Kevin, and a new runner (to me) Jeff to start our trek round the bay.  I ran out of gu's, so I stole my son's Mario fruit snacks (which were delish).  I made the tactical error of telling these speed demons I needed 15 instead of 14, so they planned for an extra out and back in Webster at mile 6 (thereby killing my bailing proclivities).  And we were off.  I have to say, when you find yourself running faster than your mile repeat time (that would be a 7:25) 3 miles into a long run, you should either pray, start drinking, or tactically cover up your garmin.  I admit to the first one, amidst a ton of bad jokes (these poor guys - I don't know how they put up with me.)  As we trekked on, Ken and I pulled ahead about mile 8, and I noticed at mile 9 I was going to go under 8 minute miles for 10 miles - something I had never done before.  Sure enough, we hit 10 miles in 1:18 and change, and I noticed Ken starting to strategically check his watch.  I reminded him the goal was not to break my half PR every week, and he smirked at me.  I started doing mental math and realized not only was he trying to break my PR - he was trying to get me under 1:45.  We had a good laugh about that, as the hills hit.

And managed to hit mile 13 not in 1:45.  Or 1:44.   But in 1:43:14.  I just broke my friggin half PR (from 2 weeks ago) by 4 minutes.  Oh my freaking god.  I swear I proposed to Ken right out by the bay.  It was super romantic.  Then I remembered I was married and also, quite gross looking (and smelling) after almost 2 hours of effort.  Which one mattered more, I'll never tell.  I'm pretty sure we postponed ay wedding planning....but he still wins the prize for making my day!

With that high in the bag, we finished out our run with the goal of doing 15 miles in under 2 hours, and even with the steepest hill on the route at mile 14, we handily finished 15.1 miles in 1:59:21, with a pace of 7:54.

I can't even begin to explain to you what this run did to me. I actually felt I could keep going and bag in 11 more miles in 95 minutes, which is giving me very, very dangerous thoughts.  Boston thoughts. I also can't even believe that we averaged a 7:52 pace for a half marathon - a race I never believed I would go under an 8 minute mile...on a hilly course, nonetheless.It's a crazy feeling.  For years, I have enjoyed running, and in the last few years, embraced it with a passion that brings me to run nearly every day.  But there's a big difference between what I thought I could do and what I am actually doing now.  It's surreal to be called "fast" or a "bad ass" by people that I consider  to be both.  To be asked to help pace someone that I think is way too fast for me.  To be included with the "big dogs" and not feel as though I don't belong, or am holding them back.

And while it's still scary as shit, its exhilarating.  And so damn exciting.  I am so amped for this race season, I practically dance every time I think about it.  (Which no one wants to see, so I keep that to my own space most of the time).

So week 9, thank you for bringing the faith back.  I promise to remember you when I invariably hit the struggle bus at least one more time in the next 7 weeks...and to reread this post when I hit taper.

But for now, I think I'll give my pal Des(i Linden) a call.  See what she's got planned for a long run this week and all.

(I crack myself up).

Week 9 Mileage:

Running: 51.2
Swimming: 3.5
Biking: 35

Also...asking for a friend...if you PR on a training run....does that legit count as a new PR?  (Strava says I did it....just sayin). 

Coffee Milk Week 8: Flying Solo

Well, I'm halfway there.  And oddly enough, this post wasn't graced with a Bon Jovi title.  I may have just lost my Geneseo alumni badge with that one.  Oops.

After last weeks karmic b*tch slap, I'm happy to say that this week calmed down somewhat in terms of life.  Work is absolutely nuts, but thankfully the powers that be have actually been letting me do my job, which is both exhausting and exhilarating.  We managed to healthify up the house by the end of the week, thank god.  And the somewhat sophomoric drama I got involved with in my inner circle....well I walked away from that.  At times I do remember that I'm a grown ass adult (ok, I know.  I went too far).

While my personal life seemed to chill the f*ck out, my training seemed to take a nosedive.  Figures.  I have realized that I run my best when I'm riled up....angry, exuberant, miserable....any intense feeling manifests itsef into a terrific run.  The status quo?  Not so much.  Before I get all introspective (its a damn mess in there, no one wants that), I also could chalk it up to the midway point of training.  I'm 8 weeks in to a 16 week plan - its time for those niggles, self doubt, and the lack of scary beginnings but no real clarity for the end goal in sight.  It doesn't help that my "pacer" that wanted to help me PR backed out of the race - she has a new job in NYC and can't train enough to do the race.  While travelling solo to a marathon and sherpa'ing myself is really no big deal, it was somewhat of a let down after the last two months of thinking we were doing this together to know that I'm flying solo.  So right now I'm systematically plotting to kidnap someone in my vicinity to race this sucker with me...or do the the half....or drive my sorry ass home...  who I think might be dumb enough to fall for my shenanigans.  Watch out, it might be you.

In spite of myself, my step back week wasn't too bad.

Week 8 Mileage:

43 running
3.5 swimming
20 biking

I had a few niggles toward the end of the week in my ankle, which I'm keeping an eye on.  My weekday runs felt kind of flat - while I hit my paces, my garmin flashed the "unproductive" status for training effort, which to me, is basically a damn accusatory monkey in the corner, judging me on every move I make.  Since I'm not that bright, I grudgingly cut down a few workouts, stretched more, and ate more chocolate to console myself.

On the bright side, my "long run" of 10 miles felt super easy, and I rewarded my post run high by whipping out my credit card and making some very important purchases pre race.  A hotel to stay at (good call, Rae - cars are not that great of an idea).  A new pair of sneaks.  A hot pink running visor.  A hot pink sports bra with a butterfly skull (I'm such a bad ass).  And just for shits and giggles, a new tri team. 
I've been doing quite a bit of swimming and running with members of the Grim Reapers Fitness Northeast (GRFNE) and they seem, for the most part, to be pretty awesome guys.  Somehow, I was under the impression that these fast as hell dudes were, in fact, a male club made of men who just liked hot pink.  When my fellow exercisers called me a dumb ass corrected me on my wrong assumption, I happily signed up for sarcasm, happy hours, and workouts with fast people that scare the shit out of me super fun people.  While I've only met seven or eight of them, I'm pretty confident this was the right choice and that 2019 is gonna be a blast.  Plus their kit is hot pink.  And while I have no idea why that's my tri color (oh wait yes I do) the cool kit cinched the deal.

I'm gonna pretend that I can get away with buying the singlet for now to run a marathon in.  I'll deal with the fact that in order to be part of this tri team they might in fact expect me to ride a bike at some point this year.

Ahh, my poor bike, who continues to stare at me as from a corner as I pump out speed workouts on the treadmill, silently and consistently reminding me that one day, I will learn to ride her without fear.  I've started checking out books online such as "Riding for Dummies", and "You've done 3 ironmans, you moron, perhaps you should learn to not be afraid to ride your damned bike?"  I'm considering buying the latter.

Until then, I might need to add this to my workout inspo wall to remind me to live my best life, even if it means conquering the two wheeled beast:

"We don't beat the Grim Reaper by living longer, we beat the Reaper by living well and living fully, for the Reaper will come for all of us.  The question is what do we do between the time we are born and the time he shows up.  It's too late to do all the tings that you're gonna kinda get around to".
-Randy Pausch (His book was epic. Totally recommend)

2019 is the year.  THE year.  To fly in the face of fear and make a leap.  Even if it results in failure, it's better to have gone for it then to always wonder "what if".  I refuse to make this the year of wondering what might have been.  Who's with me?  (No, seriously.  Anyone want to do a road trip to Rhode Island with me in April?? I have crappy 80s music and an extra bed!)

Coffee Milk Weeks 6 and 7: Permanent Vacation

And just like that, my great intentions of blogging go by the wayside.  Whoops.  I won't anger my few devoted readers by throwing out excuses about *cough* vacation, but I do admit there were a few palm trees that got in the way of posting week 6.  Lest you throw too much hate mail my way, week 7 made up for it with enough karmic ferocity that I almost regret my vacation.  Almost.

Ok, I lied.  Jamaica was epic, amazing, and there were only a few reasons I even came back.  Like the ones I birthed.  And maybe one more.  I'll leave that one vague and get on with the running part.

Week 6:  Running Miles - 48

We left for Jamaica on Saturday, so most of my week was spent on the dreadmill or the sleeted streets of the Roc.  I managed to secure a few legit runs, stayed on course, and took a rest day for our travels, saving one easy 7 miler for Sunday.  It was a pretty low key week, with the biggest challenge being the swing from a 10 degree 7 mile tempo run done in layers to an 85 degree beach run in a sports bra and shorts.  Yep, it was a real first world problem.

I also met a new man on vacation, which may in fact belong in the romance section of my blog (HAH, that;s a good one) - a wonderful, mature French man in his 50s who sidled up to me and requested a few one on one dates in a very suave french style.  Mon Dieu.  We got sweaty together a few times and had a very delicious, short lived fling.

On the roads.  During some tempo runs.  You see, the M dot tattoo happens to be some sort of magnet for us crazy runners -when we see one, it acts as a homing beacon to attract a fellow nut job that's also on a 6:30 morning run during vacation at a friggin beach.  In my case, it was a very nice man named Pascal from Montreal, who chatted with me through 24.5 miles over 4 days about Ironman Mont Tremblant (now on my to do list for 2020), Norseman (on my holy shit that's incredible but I may die list) and about everything in life in between.  We hit that sweet spot of running camaraderie that allowed for a similar pace, easy chatter, and since he was staying on the luxury side of the resort I got to do some extra exploring of how the other half lives.  Wins all around.

The took up week 6 and most of week 7 training until we got back early Thursday, where it seemed karma decided to throat punch me for daring to take 5 days on the beach.  First, there was a snow (errr, cold) day.  (We seriously never got these in the 80s and 90s....just sayin).  Then Rob got sick and stayed home.  Then Greg got sick.  Then I had a massively ridiculous high school drama with some friends.  Then work...well, I won't get into that.  Suffice to say it's great to be needed, but....not so much.  Job security, right? To top it off, we had to have a parent teacher conference for my histrionic older child, which, to be fair, after the last 5 days, I'm feeling him totally.

In spite of all of that, I'm healthy (knock on wood), kicked it at my tempo and speed runs in week 7, and hit a mileage high for the week:

Week 7:  Running Miles - 52

Also of note, I joined the Irondequoit Bay Runners for another edition of 14 miles "Round the Bay" in black ice on Sunday - with two guys I never could keep up with in a sane reality.  Ken (middle) does a great job of hanging with me and I hope I didn't slow Matt Speedster Kellman down too much (left) but these two running paragons of mine have given some hope to my lofty goals for 2019 - we held an 8:12 pace for 14 miles, even while doing some ice dancing.  Score.  According to Garmin, I PRed the half again at 1:47 and change, but I also might have slipped it a 10 spot to lie to me after the crappy few days post vacation.

Hey, you do what you gotta.

8 weeks till show time - lets keep it up.

*Post Note - The lack of mention of biking was not an error in this post.  And no, I don't want to talk about it.  For swimming, I got in some lovely open water swims, along with a new speed record for 100 yards at the local Y in a last minute "race" prior to vacation.  Greg said he wasn't working that hard.  I demand a rematch.  Either way, the sweet rewards were worth the effort.*