Wanna go for a run?

My family had a dog when I was a child. I was 5 when we got him and 19 when he died.  He was pretty much my childhood dog.

He was a golden retriever named Captain and was the nicest, sweetest tempered dog. My dad wanted a golden because he wanted a hunting dog, and Captain happily obliged. They went grouse and pheasant hunting, sometimes catching the occasional rabbit.

The night before a hunting trip my dad would pull his hunting gear out of the closet, the blaze orange hat, heavy overalls, the gun in the gun case. Captain would circle him and leap for joy in his excitement. When Dad would get up at some ungodly hour Captain would already be up waiting for him -- my dad joked that Captain didn't sleep all night he was so excited to go.

My dad and Captain out in the field

This memory came to me today as Wayne was preparing to go for a run. He disappeared downstairs to stretch for 30 minutes as he always does before running. Within minutes Beauty had trotted downstairs to join him. She licked his face when he got down to her level to stretch, she circled him and leaned against him, knocking him off balance as he did one-legged squats. I finally took her upstairs so he could finish stretching in peace.

Eventually Wayne re-appeared in running gear and with her harness.

"Hey girl, wanna go for a run?" he said, and Beauty leaped for joy.

He leashed her up and off they went for 50 minutes and 7 miles. Yes, 7 miles in less than an hour, meaning they were running an average of a 7:10 pace. One of the miles they clocked a 6:30 pace, and that was when Wayne said she finally began "running" and not "trotting."

"That girl is too fast for her own good," he said when they returned, both of them hot despite the 45 degree temperature, and a little breathless.

I think Wayne has finally found someone in the family as fast as he is, and Beauty has discovered that she's a runner.

Beauty circles the chair while Wayne gets his shoes on. He's not leaving the house without her.

Getting her harness on.

Ready to run!

Chitown

Happy 20th anniversary to us!

Our 20th anniversary date passed with a quiet dinner at home with the family. Our table was adorned with a beautiful fall bouquet of flowers and an exchange of cards. We were treated to special cards from our girls and an awesome Powerpoint that our oldest put together on the fly, celebrating our big anniversary. It was very sweet and very quiet.

We had bigger things up our sleeves.

The following weekend we flew to Chicago in time for dinner reservations at Benny's Chop House, one of Chicago's fantastic steakhouses, walking distance from our hotel. We dressed up, I in a new autumn-orange dress, Wayne in a shirt and sports coat. Yes, he finally recently purchased his first sports coat since burgundy fabric was in style.

Our dinner was absolutely divine. We had a nice little table to ourselves; it felt like we were the only people in the place. I had a scallop with my steak which was one of the best I've ever had. We shared a side of brussel sprouts and baked potato and sipped at a bottle of cabernet.

We ended the evening with a nightcap in the bar while a songstress played the piano and crooned tunes familiar to us both.

It was so relaxing, so wonderful to go back to a hotel room that we had all to ourselves.

An absolutely stunning autumn day in Chicago.

The next day we walked down to Millennium Park to check out the Bean -- I mean, Cloud Gate -- and some other art. There was also a little set up going on for a little event that was taking place Sunday morning.

Does that sign say "Start?"

We had a nice dinner at the restaurant at our hotel called Joe Fish which, ironically, was an Italian restaurant. We had their famous meatballs and some wine, then went to bed early.

Ah yes, that little event they were setting up for...the Chicago marathon.

Seriously, what couple do you know celebrate their anniversary by going to another city for one to run and the other to cheer a marathon? Just us.

Wayne left before the sun was up to get to his starting corral. There were 45,000 runners in this marathon and Wayne was concerned that he was going to be stuck in a pack of runners. Luckily, he got an ideal assignment of Corral A, just behind the elite runners, thanks to a previous marathon finish of 3:09. He had no problems breaking out of the crowd to run his own pace.

I, on the other hand, had problems seeing him. I had underestimated how big the race was. Unlike the Twin Cities marathon, where you could always count on a little break in the runners to jaunt across the course, there was no space to cross the course. The only way to get around it to see a runner at a different mile marker was to use subway tunnels or literally run along with the runners until you crossed the street, both of which I did.

Runners filled the street from curb to curb.

I kept missing him at every mile marker. Finally I was at mile 12 well before he should have gone by. I watched the fastest runners go by, then some more, and more. I cheered, all the time scanning the crowd for him or for his familiar pace.

Suddenly my phone buzzed -- I got a text message that he had just crossed the half marathon mark, a mile down the way from me. He must've run past and I didn't see him in the crowd.

After that I gave up trying to see him and instead went to a Dunkin Donuts for some breakfast and hot coffee. I wandered back down to Millennium Park where the finish was and waited in the sunshine for the text message that would tell me he crossed the finish line. (Isn't technology wonderful?)

The walking wounded after the fnish line, some with beers in hands.

Wayne finished with a time of 3:38:01, another Boston qualifying time, and under his goal of 3:40. We were able to meet up at the finish and walked back to the hotel together, giving his cramping legs the stretch needed to loosen up.

He cleaned up and we had a celebratory lunch of fish n'chips and beer, then off to the airport to catch our plane.

Short but sweet. A unique and fun way to celebrate 20 years together.

Runner's Redemption

The last time Marissa signed up for Girls on the Run, it didn't go so well. It was disappointing. Frustrating. Anything but what GOTR is supposed to be about. You can read about it in my blog post from the day of the 5k, aptly titled "Giving Up."

I swore I would not make her sign up again for Girls on the Run -- I couldn't imagine anything worse than having a repeat of her last season. And yet, she wanted to register. I was doubtful but she insisted, so we did.

What a difference.

I was concerned that she wouldn't want to run the practice 5k because it was raining. Not drizzling, raining. But she was there with a big smile on her face, and off we went. We made a game of it -- we had to jump in every puddle we saw. We weaved back and forth across the trail to hit the puddles. If we were walking and saw a puddle ahead, we had to run to it and jump in.

Puddles ahead!

Marissa and Coach Kristi after the wet practice 5k.

She ran most of the way because of our game, unlike the other times when she only wanted to walk the entire distance. Our pants were soaked from the knees down, shoes sloshing and wet strands of hair sticking to our heads. We stopped at Caribou afterwards for a celebratory cup of hot chocolate.

Yeay for hot chocolate after getting sopping wet on a run!

What a blast. The next morning she said to me at the breakfast table, "I'm pretty proud of myself for running the 5k yesterday." She even wrote herself a note on our chalkboard in the kitchen.

The day of the actual 5k, she was bummed that it wasn't raining that morning, but decided that sunshine and a brisk breeze would do. We arrived at the event on time (actually ahead of time, since we drove with Coach Kristi), and had plenty of time to greet each girl as they arrived.

Ready to run!

A shirt-signing train.

The course was at the University of Minnesota campus. It looped around the campus in many different ways, but wasn't confusing because of all the signage and the volunteers directing runners. They had coaches and volunteers all along the course. We walked in a few areas, but once we saw a volunteer cheering Marissa wanted to run again. She didn't want to be seen walking any part of the race!

And...done! With a big smile.

We finished in 39 minutes. More importantly, Marissa accomplished what she set out to do, and was immensely proud of herself.

That's what I was hoping for. Hooray!

A 5k In Every State!

Wayne and I flew to Nashville Tennessee for two very special reasons: Jim and Amy Patterson.

Okay, so there was that thing about Wayne running a marathon in every state, and he hadn't hit Tennessee yet, but it was a convenient reason to visit with some dear friends of ours.

The Patterson's used to live down the street from us in Minneapolis. After three glorious years of Minnesota living, they decided to move back to Buffalo, NY. Something about extended family and roots, whatever. They've been back in Buffalo for 7 years now.

Amy shared with me how different the community was for healthy living. Here in the Twin Cities we take things like sidewalks and bike trails for granted; back in Buffalo there weren't any. They don't know many people who walk or bike frequently, and the main entertainment is watching sports, eating wings and drinking beer.

During the past 7 years Amy had been gaining weight, and she finally got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Or, as she put it:

My motto going into this was "I'm done."
I was done being overweight, actually obese. 
Done with the lack of energy
Done being lazy. 
Done eating unhealthy. 
Done feeling like sh*t. 
Done with taking medicine,
Just done.

In September of last year she joined the Transformation Center by Body and Fitness, began making healthier food choices and working out five times a week. She went through a six-week course and dropped 23 pounds. She loved the results so much she signed up for another six-week course and in total dropped 43 pounds.

Before and after - go Amy!

Unbelievable.

Before this program, she'd tried to do the couch-to-5k program a few times, and every time lost the motivation halfway through and didn't end up doing a 5k. This time, she was committed and signed up for a 5k when her husband signed up for a half marathon in Nashville.

And I decided I wanted to be there as her supporter and witness.

So Wayne signed up for the full marathon, I signed up for the 5k, we booked our flights, Patterson's booked hotels and away we went.

That was one of the best weekend getaways we've ever had. We had a great time exploring the city of Nashville with our good friends, reconnecting and telling stories that made us all roar with laughter.

And then, of course, the run.

We stopped to take a photo at the start line, and I was just so proud of Amy for being there. So many people don't even try, and here she was, after all her hard work, at the start line of her first 5k.

She was nervous that she wouldn't make her goal, which was to not have to walk any part of the run. And except for a couple of moments when we were forced to due to a wall of walkers in front of us (seriously people, what do you think this is, the Mall of America?) she made her goal. We both finished with a time of 39:59. The Patterson's friend Sean, who had originally signed up for the half marathon but hurt his back and couldn't run that distance, joined us as well and the three of us stayed together the entire race.

It was an absolute blast.

We waited for Jim to finish the half, and then for Wayne to finish the full, which he did with a time of 3:29:40, just under his goal of 3:30.  That was marathon #14 and state #11 for him, overachiever that he is. We went back to the hotel, cleaned up, napped, and went out for a celebratory dinner.

We were all back in our rooms, asleep by 10. Exciting travelers, us runners.

We spent the next day in downtown Nashville, enjoying the live music in every venue (starting at 10 a.m. even on a Sunday!) and touring the Ryman Theatre, the original theatre that hosted the Grand Old Opry before they outgrew it in 1974. There's some good ole history for you, with amazing acoustics and beautiful woodwork. It even made a non-country music fan appreciate the history of the place.

Amy's already asking when our next one will be. We'd like to make this an annual event. Who knows? Maybe eventually she and I will finish a 5k in every state. She's got two down and I've got four. Just a few more to go!

Giving Up

A quick photo before all the clothing changes. (Note the stocking feet on Marissa.)

 Today was supposed to be a celebratory day.

This morning was the Girls on the Run 5k run. Marissa has been in the program all fall, all 10 weeks of it. While they train for a 5k, they also do great activities promoting good self-image, anti bullying, and other confidence boosting messages. That's rather ironic, considering what happened today.

On October 30th we had the practice 5k, which didn't go well. Actually, it didn't go. Unbeknownst to me Marissa had planned to walk the whole thing. Since we didn't get started until 5:00, I didn't have an hour to walk around the lake, as my husband was traveling and I had to pick up my eldest from Minneapolis Kids by 6 p.m. We ran for a little bit, then we walked, I cajoled her to run, she responded by refusing to move. In 20 minutes we had gone approximately a quarter of a mile. So we turned around and left. We walked back to the start, which was also the finish line, and could see and hear other girls finishing. In the time that it had taken us to walk a half a mile other girls and their running buddies had run 3.1 miles. Marissa was so embarrassed that we didn't do it that we intentionally walked a path around the finish so they couldn't see us ducking out.

The next session the coaches asked the girls how it felt to run the practice 5k. Girls talked about it being exciting, fun, challenging. Marissa's response was that it was embarrassing and disappointing because "my mom didn't want to walk it."

So it's my fault.

I felt awful. I felt horrendous. I felt like the worst mom in the world. I thought to myself, "I'll make it up to her for the 5k. If she wants to walk the whole thing, we'll walk it."

That race was today.

Of course it was all of 10 degrees this morning, and snowing. Rock star weather to have a bunch of 9-11 year olds run a race. But this is Minnesota, we're hearty people, and we know how to layer like nobody's business.

It began by Marissa refusing to get out of bed. "Why is this so early? I'm not even up this early for school." she complained. 

She got dressed. She didn't like what she was wearing. She changed her pants. She changed her shirt. She put on snow pants. Then decided not to. Then took off a layer of pants and put the snow pants back on. She put on running shoes. Then took off the running shoes and put her boots on.

We were 20 minutes late leaving the house, and we were already planning on not being there right when the activities were supposed to start. At this rate we were barely going to make it in time for the start, assuming we knew exactly where the start was and drove right there.

Which, of course, we didn't. I knew the race was at Como Lake in St. Paul, but had missed the message that due to the inclement weather they had moved the pre-race activities to Como Elementary School, just a hop skip and a jump from the lake.

But which side of the lake? I drove all the way around the lake at least once. We stopped and parked at the rec building on the lake, but it wasn't there. We got back in the car and drove around some more. In the meantime, Coach Kristi was texting asking where we were.

Well fuck if I know.

Once I found out it was at the elementary school I started driving towards it, but they had already left the school to walk down to the lake. We drove around the lake some more. Finally I saw some Girls on the Run volunteers, parked near there and figured we'd get to the start from there. They informed me that the start line was about a half a mile down the path and pointed us in the direction of the start.

We began walking to the start, me texting/talking to Coach/Aunt Kristi as we walked. We could see all the encouraging words and sayings printed in chalk on the race course. We got a ways down the path and then Marissa sat down on a bench.

What a 5k run is not supposed to look like.

"I don't want to do this," she said.

We talked about how she had trained for weeks, had spent lots of time with her teammates, how her friends were expecting to see her. We talked about finishing what she'd started, and that this was the BIG FINALE. 

She would have none of it. Finally I said that we'd wait there, when the runners started coming by we would find her friends, get in the pack and then pick up the race from there. Because of the weather they had already said that if you only wanted to do one loop around the lake instead of two you could. 

"Let's just walk the one loop," I said. She said nothing.

We could finally see the first runners coming our way. "Come on!" I said. "Let's go!"

"No, let's wait until they go by," she said. 

"What are you talking about? C'mon, let's join them," I said.

"I'm too embarrassed. No one else is wearing snow pants. Let's just go home."

Eventually that's what we did, both of us in tears. 

I am frustrated. I am angry. I am disappointed. And she is all of these things, too. We both talked in the car on the way home how disappointed we both were in the day. 

After a while she went up to her room, and a little later I found her sitting on her beanbag chair, crying. She said she was upset about missing the 5k, disappointing her teammates and disappointing herself. And she blames it all on my not knowing where to go for the start line. 

It's my fault. Again.

Right. 

She needs to take responsibility for not wanting to do the race. She had plenty of opportunity to still do the run/walk, even though we were late. Those were her decisions to not participate, not mine. We talked, she got mad, and she told me to leave as she curled up in a ball, sobbing.

"Now you know what it feels like to give up," I said. "It doesn't feel very good. I don't recommend doing it again." And I walked out and shut the door.

Maybe it was harsh. I don't think we are harsh enough at times. She needed to hear it, better to learn this lesson now.  Later on she came to me in my room as I attempted to nap away the bad feelings from this morning, curled up and snuggled up to me, tears still on her face. 

We're still sad and disappointed. Everything that Girls on the Run is not supposed to be.

Rock star day.

The Girls on the Run 5k Winner!

Thanks to everyone who commented on my post earlier to enter the drawing for the Girls on the Run 5k bib. I loved reading everyone's comments about fitness and the value of this program. And it was great to feel the support of the community via social media from more than just the contest entrants. I was amazed by the depth of women's feelings about the messaging of Girls on the Run, with many lamenting that it wasn't around 30 or more years ago. The years of therapy we could have saved ourselves!

And with no further ado, here is the winner of the bib!

Congratulations Greta, I will be in touch with you to get the bib to you. I look forward to seeing you on race day at Lake Nokomis in Minneapolis on November 16th!

Girls on the Run Giveaway

I've previously written about Lindsey's involvement in Girls on the Run. This is not just a nonprofit about running -- it encourages self-esteem, positive self-image and confidence in young girls, and has been a program Lindsey has benefited from immensely in the two years she's been participating.

Lindsey's first 5k, spring of 2011.

One of Lindsey's classmates moms noticed a change in Lindsey. As we both were waiting to pick up our girls one evening, she mentioned how much more outgoing and confident Lindsey seems. "She used to not talk to anyone," she said, "Now she can have a conversation with adults and kids she doesn't know well."

Another time, Lindsey told me about a time she could put her Girls on the Run lessons in action. They had just had a lesson on gossiping: what it is, how it's different from other kinds of conversations, and what to do to prevent it.

The day after the lesson, one of her classmates was talking about a mutual friend and the way she dressed. Lindsey cut her off and said, "Well, she's not here to talk about it, and I don't want to discuss this behind her back." End of conversation. If only adults knew and abided by this lesson.

Lindsey's first medal.

This fall both Marissa and Lindsey are able to be in the program since it's for 3rd through 5th graders. I love picking them up after their meetings twice a week and hearing about what fun games they did, their energy awards and then, of course, the running.

Their grand finale will be a Girls on the Run 5k on November 16th. Nearly 100 girls from around the Twin Cities and their running buddies will be participating. For the first time, Girls on the Run is opening up the finale 5k race to the community to participate, and have limited the field to 300 runners.

That's where you come in.

Here's the easy part: I have been given a free entry to give away to the Girls on the Run 5k which will take place Saturday, November 16th, at Lake Nokomis.

Here's the hard part:

If you win it, you have to run it.

This is normally a $40 entry fee, but it's free to the winner of this giveaway.

Just comment on this blog post with your take on why fitness or running are important to kids (be sure to register so I can contact you if you win).

And if you can share this post via social media sites too, that'd be great, though I won't make it a requirement of entering.

Wayne and I are both going to be running buddies for our kids on that day -- join us and other runners to support our Girls on the Run!

A Marathoner's Life

Sometimes I swear it's me who runs the marathons.

From tempo to interval runs, bonking, "junk" miles and negative splits, I'm all into the jargon.

I tell people that Wayne goes out to run a "quick" 7 or 8 miles. Because to him, that's a short run. Never mind the fact that I've never run anything over 4 miles, and that it took me nearly an hour to do. (That's practically walking, in case you were wondering.)

My perspective on running is a bit jaded, especially as a self-described non-runner.

So you probably can't understand why I was looking forward to getting up at 4 a.m. the Saturday before Mother's Day to drive to Brookings, SD, to watch Wayne run his 9th marathon. I have come to love spectating at these events. This one was no different. Actually, it was different, which is what made it all the more fun.

We arrived in Tracy, MN on Friday night and hit the road early the next morning to complete the trip to Brookings. It was 37 degrees out and as a seasoned marathon spectator, I knew to dress for the weather, since I probably wouldn't be hanging out in my car. Lined tights and four layers of shirts and fleeces did the trick. Wayne, on the other hand, donned a sleeveless shirt, arm warmers, and shorts. I got cold just looking at him.

I dropped him off at the start and went to McDonald's for my secret love: Egg McMuffin sandwiches. I haven't had one in years. And because I know my dad's an early bird, I called him and had a nice chat at 6:45 a.m., uninterrupted by kids and household chores. What a treat!

Pretty soon it was time to start spectating, so I grabbed the race map, my GPS and went on my way.

The Brookings marathon only allows 300 people to run the marathon distance, so it's a very small race. There is a half marathon and a 5k distance for a total of 1,000 runners, still small by comparison to others.

The course wound through town, and was well marked by volunteers with flags and orange cones. They didn't have to close any of the roads, so as a spectator it was easy to drive around to see Wayne run. I think I saw him 8 or 9 times along the route. I would park at an intersection, get out and watch him run and cheer him on. Then I would get back in my car, drive north five blocks, park and cheer him on as he ran the next mile. I may have only driven 5 blocks, but the race course had wound around a whole mile through city streets.

Drive park cheer. Drive park cheer. Get cold and go for coffee. Drive park cheer.

It never warmed up the entire race -- 37 degrees for 3+ hours. And because it's the plains the wind never let up, with gusts up to 30 mph. In May. Yeay for a northern climate!

It was so much fun. For me, that is. Wayne said the wind really sucked. Or at least, he used words that sounded like that, he may have said something else.

I could tell when he'd be coming because I would recognize the runners just ahead of him, who I would cheer on as well. But by mile 19 I could tell that the people who used to be ahead of him had faded and he was out in front of the majority.

Doesn't this look exciting?! Yep, it must've been pretty quiet out there for him, running by himself with no music for over 3 hours. Just the way he likes it.

He ended up finishing 12th overall and 2nd in his age group. His particular age group was incredibly fast -- the winner of the marathon was 52 and completed in a time of 2:38. The winner of the age group younger than Wayne's took 1st place for his division with a time a whole 15 minutes slower than Wayne's.

But still, he ran his 2nd fastest marathon in gusty, windy conditions. We celebrated by going out to a local place for a brew and a good meal before driving back to Tracy.

What a fun day. I must be a marathoner's wife since that's my idea of fun.

Ruminations on Yet Another Tragedy

Yesterday's events were...were...well, pick your adjective. Awful. Horrific. Terrifying. Tragic.

Frustrating.

Frustrating because they happen so often. Domestic or international, terrorism is a now a part of the fabric of our country. Like it or not.

For those not close to the world of runners, for whom the Boston Marathon is just another marathon, let me reassure you it is not. The marathon takes place on Patriot's Day, a holiday which celebrates the start of the American Revolution.

Businesses in Massachusetts are closed on Patriot's Day, with the exception of the hospitality industry, which enjoys one of its busiest and most profitable weekends of the year. There is always a Red Sox home game on this day. And for the last 117 years, there is always a Boston Marathon.

Bombing the finish line of the Boston marathon is like bombing Disney World. It is an icon of the triumph of the human spirit over adversity. It is a mystical place, its blue paint an everlasting mark in the city every day of the year.

As with the Sandy Hook tragedy, I did not turn on the TV. I did not watch coverage. And after ensuring the safety of everyone we knew who was out there via a Facebook page, eventually I logged off of social media. Because people's reactions were...were...well, pick your adjective. Ridiculous. Attention seeking. Annoying.

The events of the afternoon were still unfolding when I saw the first graphic pop up, showing the Boston Athletic Association's logo and a "we will never forget" tagline slung onto it.

We will never forget? We don't even know what we'll never forget yet, what are you talking about?

And then a candle. A skyline of Boston. All with words of sympathy and hope and "we will endure."

WHAT will we endure? We don't even know what's happening! This isn't a year after this event, it's CURRENTLY HAPPENING. Knock that shit off.

Let's get to what we know first, which is very little. Less than 24 hours later we now know that there were 2 bombs. Not four. Not seven. Two. They both detonated within a minute of each other two blocks from the other bomb's location, very close to the finish line. Early reports are that they were sophisticated in nature, and meant to create maximum human damage. Two people are dead and more than 140 injured. Federal, state and local investigators are actively pursuing this investigation and working together to find the perpetrators.

That's all we know.

Yes, it is tragic. Our family was there in Boston last year and our oldest was 8 at the time, the same age as the little boy who was killed. I feel for the families affected by this, and am terribly sorry that it happened. Let's not minimize their pain by creating graphics that go viral on social media before we have a grasp of the events of the day.

What touched my heart was the number of people who reached out to me throughout the day, either by text, phone, email, or stopping at my door, to ask if I knew people there. They know I'm plugged into the running community, even if I'm not a so-called runner, and I was so grateful for their personal inquiries as to the well-being of my family and friends. THAT meant more to me than any graphic. Thank you. You know who you are.

Girls on the Run Is So Much Fun!

This past Saturday was the culmination of Lindsey's last 10 weeks of training with Girls on the Run. The Twin Cities chapter is growing, and this time they had enough participants across all the Minneapolis schools to hold their own 5k, instead of having to register for someone else's.

Girls on the Run is about so much more than just running. The organization uses running as a tool to teach girls about self-confidence, positive self-talk and standing up to bullies. They met twice a week for 10 weeks, not just to run but also to come together as a team and reinforce these messages with each other.

Lindsey first participated in Girls on the Run this past spring, when they had their inaugural team at her school. I noticed that her self-confidence got a big boost, and she seemed less unsure of herself in new situations.

We arrived a bit late after some confusion as to where on Lake Phalen the group would be starting out from. But we made it in time for Lindsey and her friend Ava to get some silly hair. We went through some warm-ups and then they gave out "energy awards," meaning that they recognized various people for their work to organize the event and support it. The energy awards were fun and silly, things like the "hamburger award," where you do a cheer about something being "well done."

Lindsey's friend Ava, her mother, Lindsey and I started the run out together, with Lindsey and Ava constantly yelling back to us to "hurry it up." We kept telling them to just go on ahead, even though a parent is supposed to be a "running buddy." It was clear neither Jennifer or I were going to be able to keep up at the pace those two were going.

She and I kept our eye out for the two girls as they kept getting farther and farther away from us. Finally by 1.5 miles in we couldn't see them anymore. Nice running buddies, right?

We (meaning us moms) had a great run, a first for her and the fastest for me, and had both Lindsey and Ava cheering for us near the finish line. Lindsey had completed the run in 29 minutes and 31 seconds, and was the 2nd girl to cross the finish line. Jennifer and I, on the other hand, finished a full four minutes after our girls.

We watched and cheered for other runners who was coming up to the finish, then gathered our things and got ready to go. Lindsey said good-bye to her coaches,as their time together was done. As a parent you don't always realize the impact that others have on your child's life. She clearly bonded with these ladies and was sad to say good-bye, but hoping to see them in the spring.

Then Ava, Jennifer, Lindsey and I all went out to Perkin's for brunch, which was utterly enjoyable and fun to see the two girls entertain each other over pancakes and eggs.

Lindsey and I had so much fun that we signed up for the Reindeer Run on December 1. This time I plan on trying to keep up with that little peanut.

Excuse Me While I Brag About My Husband

Sunday was a good day to race.

Wayne has always been a cold weather runner, so when he heard the forecast for Sunday, the day of the Twin Cities marathon, he was thrilled.

Coming in to this, his seventh marathon, his PR (personal record) had been at the New York City marathon. Condition were similar to the forecast for Minnesota, and he completed in 3:22, faster than the marathon which qualified him for Boston.

Sunday's forecast: High of 40, low of 29 at the start. A cold weather runner's dream.

So unbeknownst to me, he adjusted his goals.

I had thought he would be running with the 3:20 pace group, but at mile 6 we found him in the group with the 3:15 pace group.

Lindsey and friends at mile 6, bundled up and ready to cheer.

We tried to see him again at mile 9. We got there just in time to see the 3:15 pace group go by, but no Wayne. We waited, thinking that perhaps he had fallen behind the group, which would be about right for where he had finished his best marathon.

No Wayne.

So off we went again, driving to the next place we could possibly catch him, which was mile 16. We got there in time to see the lead runners go by, so we knew we wouldn't miss him.

Lindsey and Marissa, cheering on the runners as they wait to see Daddy.

And there he was, well ahead of the 3:15 pace group.

He finished the marathon in 3:13:12, or around a 7:23 pace. He finished 19th in his division and beat his previous best time by a whole 9 minutes.

Most people beat their best time by a couple of minutes, not nine.

What else is pretty amazing about this is that he's only been running for a little over 3 years. His first full marathon was October of 2009 and he finished it in 3:39. That's an amazing first marathon time for anyone, but especially for someone knocking on 50's door. And as he's gotten older he's only gotten faster.

I can tell you this doesn't happen by accident. He is living proof of what happens when someone passionately dedicates himself to something, focuses on a goal and works toward it unceasingly.

He logged at least 50 miles a week for months leading up to this -- tempo runs, internval runs, long runs. He would tell you that the most difficult runs were his interval runs, when you run at a slow pace for 800m, then go as fast as you can for a mile. Do that four or five times and you're exhausted, but you've increased your speed. There's research behind this, and his dedication to this type of run -- at least once a week -- is what he will tell you makes him faster.

We didn't brave the traffic or the crowds to see him finish, but we tracked him online and knew he'd done well.  When he came home he was elated.

"I think I can now finally consider myself a marathoner," he said. This after finishing seven of them and  running this last one at a 7:20 pace.

"Honey, you always were," I said.

I feel like I'm the one who accomplished this one, I'm so proud of him.

Fitness Challenge, Week 5: The Race

So like I was telling you before I was rudely interrupted by a Shakeology commercial break, fitness is absolutely no fun at all.

Nope, not having a good time. None whatsoever.

On Saturday I skated the duathlon as a part of the Minnesota Half Marathon event. I skated 13.1 miles, followed by a 2.8 mile run. (I thought it was a full 5k, but the way the course laid out it was only 2.8 miles.)

This was my first race on my new skates -- it's the day after the race and I still have a swollen bump on my left foot where the skate wasn't quite right. But still, I managed to pull off a PR on the half marathon portion, finishing in 55 minutes 18 seconds, or about 14 mph. The woman in the photo above is someone I met at the starting line and we skated most of the race together, drafting back and forth until I lost her the last couple of miles. We exchanged contact info and hopefully will get together to train for the NorthShore Inline marathon, which we're both doing this fall.

At one point in the race the course does a 180-degree turn, and the hills you just went up become the hills you go down. We had just climbed a long hill when we got to the turn, and promptly got to go back down that same hill. As we were chugging our way up, a long train of people drafting were coming down it on the other side. Over the sounds of people clapping and volunteers warning of the turn, I heard a person who was already on the downhill side let out a "YEEEEE HAWWWW!"

And that pretty much sums it up.

Going that fast on skates is thrilling. I was grinning the whole way down, and the momentum from the downhills would push me through the uphills.

Seriously, why isn't this sport more popular?!

The challenge was in transitioning to the run. My dear friend Gianna was there to cheer me on, and I took the transition as an opportunity to take a short break, catch my breath and grab a quick bite since I could feel my body craving fuel. Others came in and out of the transition area while I was still there and when I finally headed out on the run my legs were Jell-o. "What have I gotten myself into?" I thought to myself. And the funny part is, running felt so SLOW after skating, that I found myself speeding past all the half-marathoners who were out on the course. After a while I realized I was running at an unsustainable pace (for me), so I slowed it down. But still, I finished at a 10-min pace, faster than I've ever run any other 5k.

This after skating a half marathon. Which only goes to show you -- it's all mental.

I finished with another duathlon completer, and we exchanged congratulations. Then he said to me, "Man, it's hot out there when you're running! I don't know how those runners do a half marathon like that." And this was on a relatively cool day, compared to the prior year.

Which tells me that the grass is always greener on the other skate. Or something like that.

A few minutes after finishing. I am sweaty but happy!

After a shirt change and meeting Wayne after his finish.

To sum it up, I had a ball, I made a new friend, and I beat my husband by 2 minutes in skating a half and then running 2.8 miles, including an unusually long transition time. (I'll know better next year!) And he ran a damn good half-marathon, finished in 1:32. I got to see him finish his race as well, which was also awesome.

We ended the adventure with a lunch out with other members of the Minnesota Running Wild team, which was, like the rest of the day, not enjoyable in the least.

All before 10 o'clock in the morning.

Like I said, fitness is not fun.

Fitness Challenge: Week Three

Yep, another week of boring work outs. Boring boring.

Oh contraire, dear reader!

The week kicked off with a family adventure -- the Color Run! Their tag line? "The happiest 5k on the planet!"

My sister flew to Minneapolis from Indiana to join us on this adventure. Runners are instructed to wear plain white t-shirts at the start, and at every 1k marker you run through a cloud of a dyed powder (corn starch, non-toxic). There's a different color at each 1k marker, and by the end of it you're a rainbow.

Near the starting line.

I was happy that my friend Laura joined us for this adventure. She drove to St. Paul from Rochester, MN, just for the event, with her husband and little girl in tow. I have no idea what time they had to leave their house, but we had to get up at 5:30 a.m., and we already live in the metro area. That's dedication! She wrote a post from her perspective on the adventure, if you'd like to read it.

If you can imagine, they had 20,000 runners signed up and ready to run. The race began at 8 a.m. and they let 1,000 people go every 5 minutes from 8:00 until the last runner had gone. We had to wait in queue for 20 minutes before finally making it into the 5th wave -- we were dripping in sweat before we'd even taken off, it was so hot.

Lindsey and Wayne took off running right from the start, while Kristi and I stayed back with Marissa, who ran the first 1k of it but walked the rest. We lost Laura halfway through, as she ran ahead so she could meet with her daughter at the 4k marker and run the last 1k with her.

When we first started Marissa was confused and said, "I thought people would be putting color on us!" She didn't realize they didn't put color on you the entire way, just at certain points.

First orange.

 

Then pink.



Feeling blue!


I missed photographing the last station. At the finish as people crossed they opened up the packets of colors we'd been given in our race packets and threw them all into the air. I dumped mine over Marissa, and then later was given a half-used packet of pink from a random runner, which I also dumped over her. Only by then her glasses were on top of her head.

Rock star!

We miraculously met up with Lindsey and Wayne, considering Wayne had left his phone behind and by this time there were several thousand runners congregating in the finish line area for the festivities, all in rainbows of color that made people unrecognizable.


She had no fun whatsoever.



Our "after" photo.

Fitness is boring.

On a separate note, I was thrilled to have my sister there, not only for this run but for my first-ever "Fit Club" workout on Saturday. "Fit Club" is basically open to anyone who wants to get in a free workout with other people. The coach for that Fit Club picks a workout video from the Team Beachbody suite of products, and people go to town working at whatever level they're at, each of us sweating like never before.

Kristi has lost a lot of weight and toned up a lot since making her decision to get fit over a year ago. I am so incredibly proud of her and of the changes she's made in her life. Thank you, Kristi, for inspiring me!

Inspired to Run My Best

This past weekend our family participated in Children Cancer Research Fund's 10th annual Time to Fly. This is a run/walk event with something for everyone: a 10k run, a 5k run, a 5k walk and a 1k kid's fun run. Lindsey decided she wanted to sleep in Saturday after her tiring week at Camp Kici Yapi, so Marissa, Wayne and I went to Harriet Island in St. Paul while Lindsey stayed home with a babysitter.

The temperature was already 88 degrees when Wayne's 10k began at 7:30 am, and it only got hotter from there. By the time my 5k run began at 8:30 it was 91 degrees with 66% humidity. Whew.

Yet despite the heat, I ran my fastest 5k ever. Why, you ask? Because every time I thought of stopping I saw these little signs that were along the entire route.

In honor of children fighting for their lives, or in memory of those who had already lost their battles. Just before the 1-mile mark I spotted the sign that our family had sponsored, honoring Annika, our Duluth friend, who recently fought back leukemia for the second time in her 6 years here on earth.

Every time I got winded or felt my knee tighten up, I looked at those signs and thought about the hardships those children had faced or were facing. The needle pricks, blood draws, chemotherapy, exhaustion, nausea, radiation. They have faced more challenges than most people ever will their entire lives. A little 5k was nothing compared to what they had gone through.

So I completed the 5k in 34 minutes and 16 seconds, only stopping to walk once at the water stop. Wayne and Marissa missed seeing me finish because they didn't expect me for at least 5 more minutes.

I also learned that I can see well enough to run even with tears brimming in my eyes.

Some People Have a Twisted Idea of Fun

I'm not sure why, but I thought a mud run sounded like a lot of "fun" and I convinced a friend to try one with me.

We drove an hour out of town to the farm where the mud run was being held, only to pull up next to two vehicles full of Lake Harriet moms we knew, who also had this same twisted idea of fun. They, however, had coordinated matching outfits and were 11 people strong. And of course, they had two extra outfits along with matching headbands, just in case they ran into other people who wanted to join their team.

Sure, because you may just run into parents from your children's school an hour out of town at a mud run. We threw the shirts on and joined the team!

The "Muddy Bunch," pre-race.

The organizers of the Lozilu (pronounced LOW-zee-loo) run bills itself as a mud run for women of any fitness level. According to their website, if you could walk a 5k you could complete the course, though the obstacles would be challenging. One of our group was at that level, having never run and only trained by doing a 1-mile walk earlier in the week. Others of our group, like my friend, Gianna, were fitness buffs, and one of our team members teaches tabata, a form of Japanese fitness that I learned about from her.

We decided at the beginning that we would start together and finish together, and we did.

Each obstacle had some silly name geared for women -- the 8-foot high fence below was called "Tan Lines," the swampy mud pit was called "Hot Mess," etc. Most had various levels, from 8-foot to 6-foot to 4-foot high walls for climbing, for every level.

At the "Tan Lines" obstacle.

I couldn't go over the wall that you see me hanging off of in this photo; I ended up walking around. I just couldn't bring myself to swing my leg over at the top of the wall, even though it was as easy to climb down as up.

And the mud pools were, well, muddy. But not just muddy. After all, this is a working farm that some farmer allowed the organization to use for this event. The soil had decades of natural fertilizer (or "organics") sprayed and plowed into the ground. So let's just say it smelled like putting your face into a cowpie. And the mud got into everything. Ugh.

My best and worst moment.

This was the final obstacle of the run, the "Fish Nets," or a cargo net that went 15 feet up into the air. Yes, it's at an angle, but if you don't like stepping onto a ladder from the roof, you wouldn't like this. That's me at the far left on the very top, and my friend Gianna is talking me through where to put my feet and hands to make it over. It was the only high obstacle of the run that I didn't chicken out on. Everything else that involved climbing I either went around or took the easiest option. I was shaky and scared, but proud as hell that I made it over.

"Do I have dirt under my fingernails? Wanna look?"

It took us about an hour and 20 minutes to run, crawl, climb and slide through this 5k. It was truly a ball, and I got to know a great bunch of ladies, most of whom I was meeting for the first time that morning.

It met my expectations of fun.