Maple Leaf half-marathon and 5K: our hometown race

Yesterday 38 women from my running groups over the past 5 years joined about 1000 other people to participate in the Maple Leaf Half-marathon and 5K in Manchester, VT. This is our local half-marathon, supported by the Manchester and the Mountains Chamber of Commerce, the local Lions Club, and our local running group, the BattenKill Valley Runners. One participant said we must have had almost as many volunteers as we did runners, and they're not far off. This event is truly a community effort, with fire departments, rescue squads, high school sports teams, community groups, and dedicated individuals volunteering their time and energy to put on a quality race.

This year I volunteered with the organizing committee, helped out at registration on Friday evening, and started Saturday morning by placing orange highway cones, no parking signs, and race direction signs along the route. Then came helping out at registration, answering questions from visiting runners, cheering on the walkers who started at 8am, placing volunteers holding pace signs for the 9am running start, and directing the 5K runners onto their last turn before the finish. All of this before 10am!

I spent the next 3 hours cheering on the half-marathon runners and walkers as they finished their race. Among the 1000 participants were 35 women from my running group. Once a member of Training for More, you're always a part of this fun-loving, energetic group.

some of the group before the race start

I watched women with big smiles speed up as they neared the finish. Women who joined hands with their friends, finishing the last few steps of the 13.1 miles together. Women I haven't seen all summer, who gave me a big smile and even stopped for a hug before they crossed the finish line. Women who struggled with blisters, cramped calf and hamstring muscles, and stomach issues but kept moving forward. Women wearing our team hat, visor, or t-shirt, or wearing a shirt from one of the many races we've done together. Women running with their husband or fiance. Women running with their children. Women talking, smiling and laughing, taking pictures and video. Women walking and running to set a PR, continue their quest to become a half-fanatic or reach a new moon level (you have to read about it to believe it), to support the local race and the charities it benefits, to encourage a friend, to demonstrate to themselves that they're strong and healthy, and to have fun. 

I started running in college because I was in Army ROTC and that required running - lots of running. I kept running because friends encouraged me to run, I craved the peace and quiet of running in the country on little-traveled roads, and running allowed me to eat just about anything I wanted. When I started the Training for More group, I expected fewer than 10 women to join, and I never expected it would expand into an ongoing, cohesive group of women who never cease to amaze me.

We didn't have a specific training group for today's races, I didn't organize group runs, or send out email instructions. They did it all on their own, or together in small groups. As each of them passed me on the course with the finish line in sight, I cheered, clapped, and shouted encouragement. Once they finished their race, we gathered together and continued cheering not only for women in our group, but for every person who came by. Congratulations to each of you who finished your race yesterday. Wear your finisher's medal with pride!

Running with Mike

Mike and I first started running together when we were dating while in college at the University of Vermont. Instead of going on a date, we'd meet to run for a study break, typically late at night. We'd run through the streets of Burlington, head down to Lake Champlain, and wind our way back up the hill toward campus.

Mike really doesn't enjoy running, and once we left college he pursued other athletic interests while I continued to run. While our kids were young he'd run with them in the kids' races while I ran the 5K. As the boys got older, they all would run/walk the Running of the Turkeys 5K together. Mike's volunteered at countless local races but his day-in-day-out exercise turned to the gym.

Today we ran the local 5K route from the Rec center, a fairly flat loop through Manchester. It was Mike's idea, since the gym is closed for Labor Day and he wanted to get some exercise. He doesn't love running the way I do, doesn't get into the flow of feeling the sun and wind on his face or into the pattern of footsteps rhythmically pattering out a beat on the sidewalk. He listens to music to take his focus off his breath and his body, which makes the run bearable but hinders conversation. We don't need to talk to enjoy running together, falling easily into a companionable pace.

As we finished the 5K loop, Mike talked about possibly running a local 5K race this Fall. Maybe he'll even run periodically instead of always using the stationary bike at the gym. We've known each other for 34 years, and have learned that adapting to change and finding a common thread in our lives is part of the crucial glue that binds us together. We don't need to run together regularly, or even more than a few times each year, to reactivate the running component of that glue.

Running - or not - on vacation

Usually I manage to fit in running when I travel, but the past week we put 3146 miles on our motorcycle, and I only fit in three short runs. Three is better than zero, but the lack of running made me cranky and sitting in one position on the motorcycle for 6-16 hours each day led to cramps in my feet, calf muscles, and hamstrings.

I like to run outside when we travel so I can scope out the area and find neat places to visit. This trip we stayed in hotels right off the Interstate, and running on the highway is never my idea of fun. One night I used the eliptical in the hotel fitness center (I wonder why they don't call it a fitness closet, because that's what it resembled?) and forced myself to grind out 30 minutes.

Two days later, in another Insterstate hotel in a different state, I ran on the treadmill. This fitness center was a bit larger, but it had to be over 90 degrees inside. I ran one of my favorite speed drills:  5-4-3-2-1 or 5 minutes fast; 5 minutes easy; 4 minutes fast; 4 minutes easy; etc. I drank water during each easy run and managed to crank out 45 minutes total. The experience wasn't any fun at all, but at least I felt better with some type of exercise.

We stayed two nights in a hotel in Missouri that didn't even have a fitness closet. I made do with stretching, push-ups and sit-ups in our room. Some exercise is always better than no exercise, right?

The best run was outside - of course. We stayed in Valparaiso, Indiana, at my stepmother's home and I ran on the wooded path that winds through her neighborhood. Finally I enjoyed the run, even though it was hot and my legs were sore. As I ran I remembered how our boys used to love playing in the dry creekbed that snakes along part of the path, and how my father would entertain them with stories of Alex the Bear. He created Alex the Bear when we were children, and the stories continued with another generation. One year during our visit the creekbed was muddy, and of course the boys came back to the house covered in mud. Another year they joined their cousin Jackson in tieing ropes to the small footbridges on the path. My sister Diane and I run on this path when we visit, and through the town remembering each house where we lived, the schools we attended, and the park with the memorial tree and bench for our parents.

Why is it so much easier to run outside, when my thoughts skip from one topic to another, than to run inside with the noise of a TV in my head? Why do I prefer the outdoor heat and humidity to inside airconditioning? Why would I rather end up with frozen eyelashes when the temperature dips toward zero than pound out miles on the treadmill in a warm gym?

I think it's because running outside doesn't really seem like work. It's time to myself, opportunity to listen to the birds or my own breath,  a chance to once again hear my father's voice as he tells stories of Alex the Bear.

Running a 5K trail race

Dara and I traveled north to Rutland for the Pine Hill Park 5K trail race tonight. This is the 11th year of their summer trail race series, and I've participated for the past 5 years. Here's a quick trail race how-to if you're thinking about taking your running off-road:

• Bug spray is your friend
• It's sunny in the parking lot, but once you get on the trail in the woods, it's a lot darker. Sunglasses are not necessary.
• Everyone breathes really heavy, especially on the steep uphills
• If you hear someone breathing right behind you, move to the side of the trail so they can pass you. Or speed up and make them breathe even harder. Your choice.
• You never have any idea where you are or where you're going. Just run.
• Looking down at the trail is good. Looking up to take in the view is not recommended. Down is where the roots, rocks, and slippery parts are lurking, just waiting for you to trip and fall.
• Don't even think about all the tics.
• Lift your feet higher than usual to avoid roots and rocks.
• You can't avoid all the roots and rocks, and sometimes you fall.
• OK, lots of times you fall. Get back up and keep running.
• There will always be someone standing at one of the intersections, helpfully telling you 'it's not much farther'. The phrase 'not much farther' has no real meaning in trail running.
• There are no water stations or cheering volunteers. There also are no cars and no sounds - except for your heavy breathing.
• You will always run uphill longer and harder than you ever run on the road.
• You will always run on steep downhills, often over slippery rocks.
• When you catch your breath, you can sometimes hear birds.
• You can run through streams, or jump over them. Sometimes there are bridges - but not always.
• When you come off the trail and hit the pavement in the parking lot for the last few yards, your legs feel wobbly and strange. I think they're trying to tell me I'm supposed to be back in the woods and on the trail.
• After the run, everyone stands around telling stories about where they tripped and who fell in front of them.
• Someone always takes a wrong turn.
• Bloody knees are to be expected.
• Fresh watermelon tastes wonderful after a trail run, and hydrates just as well as water. Plus you can spit out the seeds.

Why I love running far more than biking

In the name of cross-training, over-50 legs, and registering for a triathlon in July, I've been riding my bike 2-3 times per week. OK - I've basically been planning to ride my bike, because I don't ride if it's raining or dark. In my mind, it's far safer to run vs bike in these conditions because I can see the cars coming toward me when I'm running, and cars sneak up behind me when I'm biking.

The last time I actually got on the bike, I had a flat tire. I was really proud of myself for biking to a client's house (saving gas, helping keep the environment clean and getting exercise all at once!), until I showed up 10 minutes late because I had to walk my bike the final mile. It was one of those days when I had back-to-back appointments, so I called my husband for an emergency ride home.

My son Nate and his friend Morgan changed the tire for me, giving me some tips and hints along the way but doing the work themselves. I've watched other people change a bike tire, and even participated in a tire changing clinic a few years ago, but I've never actually changed a tire myself.

Until today.

After a 30 minute swim at the Rec, I changed into my bike gear and rode approximately 1 mile before I heard a loud POP followed by a short whoosh of air. Flat back tire, again. I had a spare tube in my pack, but decided to walk the bike back to my car and drive home so I could use my tire pump instead of the compressed air capsule I also carry with me but of course had never used before. One new experience would be enough for the day.

Changing the tire myself did not go well. I kept reminding myself that Nate told me anyone can change a tire. He assured me I wouldn't break anything, and if I did it wrong the worst thing that would happen is I'd need to do it over. Thus fortified by my son's encouragement, I attempted to take the back wheel off the bike. Nate is a lot bigger and stronger than I am, and he tightened the wheel so much that I had to use both hands and my body weight to force the lever-thingy (you can tell I really don't know much about bikes) down so I could take the wheel off the bike. I almost gave up once or twice, and even headed into the house in defeat before I told myself in no uncertain terms that I WOULD change the #!*# tire. Finally, it popped off.

I knew to use the bright yellow, hard plastic levers to pry the tire off the wheel. Easier said than done, but I managed to loosen one side fairly easily. No amount of prying could get the entire tire off the wheel, so I resorted to the most respected authority I know:  Google. I googled "change a flat bike tire" and found lots of helpful videos and suggestions. Fortified by knowledge and a turkey sandwich (I function better when I'm not hungry) I went back to work on the bike.

I finally managed to pry the tube out of the wheel and somewhat miraculously the tire also came off the wheel - after about 30 minutes. I blew a bit of air into the new tube and inserted the valve through the wheel. Now the real fun started, because it took me another 30 minutes, a second trip to Google, a glass of milk and a fresh pear, and serious self-talk that I was fully capable of doing this by myself before I managed to finally get both tube and tire back onto the wheel.

Something, however, wasn't quite right. I had heard a lot about the dreaded 'pinch flat', where a tube put incorrectly into the tire would get pinched between the tire and the rim and cause another flat. It looked to me like the tube was already pinched, and I was afraid to blow up the tube completely. I reviewed my options:  give up and sell the bike, give up and wait for my husband to come home and rescue me (and the bike), ask for help. Ask for help finally won, after even more self-talk and reminders of Nate's confidence in my abilities.

I decided to put the wheel back on the bike and drive the $#!* thing to Battenkill Sports Bike Shop just down the road and ask for help. Theoretically I knew how to put the wheel on the bike, but getting it in the right place, with the chain where it belonged, took more than a few tries.

Robin at the bike shop was encouraging and gracious, and confirmed that a pinch flat was imminent. In about 2 seconds he rectified the potential fatal pinch flat by poking the valve stem up into the tire. That's all it took to get the tube and tire to cooperate, and I had just spent over 15 minutes trying to figure this out on my own. He then pumped air into the tube and put the wheel on the bike in less than 1 minute, showing me a nifty way to lift the derailleur (the metal thing that holds the chain on the bike's back wheel and has something to do with shifting gears - I think) with one finger and elegantly slide the wheel into place. It took me two hands and propping with my thigh (there are black chain marks on my body to prove it) at home.

I told Robin this is why I run instead of bike. I don't have expensive running equipment that malfunctions and forces me to stop running. I might get a stone in my shoe, but I can rectify that in less than 1 minute. There's no grease on my hands and I don't have to Google mechanical information and videos to complete a run. I told Robin that if I get a flat tire during the triathlon I might as well give up right there since it took me longer to change the flat tire than it does to complete an entire sprint tri. Somewhat to my surprise, he agreed with me!

Two hours after I initially started off on a bike ride, I started once again on a bike ride. I almost forgot about the anger, dismay, and frustration as I pedaled down the hills, cooled by a stiff breeze and enjoying the smooth pavement. I'm glad I didn't give up, and I feel slightly more confident about changing a future flat tire. Except that next time I'll probably have to attempt using compressed air to inflate the tube.

Long run = hills = fun (OK, fun AND sore legs)

I decided that this summer I would challenge myself with long runs packed with hills, weekly speed workouts, and cross-training on my bike and in the pool. From June 1st through at least September 30th I want to push myself a bit harder just to see what happens. Maybe I'll get faster in the next marathon, the Top of Utah in September. Perhaps I'll finish higher up in a sprint triathlon this summer. I'd love to nail the hills in the 100 on 100 relay.

Ghandi's thoughts are driving me this summer:

“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

 

I want my destiny this summer to be strength, confidence, and courage. To start that process, I'm focusing on positive thoughts when I'm running. Instead of telling myself the hill is too steep, the weather too hot, my legs too tired - I'm barking out motivation that my drill sergeant at Ft. Bragg would have loved (but without as many expletives).

Long runs this summer include hills, lots of hills. Today's run starts downhill on East Manchester Road, which of course means I have to run UP this hill on the way back home. That's the plan, right? Center Hill waits just after mile 2. Piece of cake.

A gradual uphill on 7A, until a steeper section before the left turn onto North Road. Lots of positive thoughts and old Army chants gear me up for the assault on Overlook, a 1.3 mile steady climb to Morse Hill. My quads get an even better workout running downhill on Wind Hill, then another right turn back onto North Road for two more hills before Route 30.

Manchester West Road is a series of three fairly steep hills followed by a long, more gentle decline into the Village. I navigate the steep downhill section on Union Street by running on the golf cart path instead of the road. There aren't many golfers out this morning, and no one seems to notice as I lean into the downhill and promise my quads I'll reward them with a cold shower.

2.5 miles to go as I turn onto Richville Road. There are two more hills before I reach home, and I fortify myself with the last of my Gatorade and start chanting as I head up the first, steeper hill. Ghandi echoes in my mind:  beliefs - thoughts - words - actions - habits - values - destiny. I believe I will run without walking up this hill. I AM running up this hill. Running up hills with a light, springy step is my destiny - fueled by a whole bunch of hilly, determined miles.

I sprint down the last 1/3 mile of our dirt road toward home, willing my legs to turnover faster. The cold shower I promised my quads feels great. Another hard run completed. More hills conquered.

Tomorrow I plan to ride my bike UP Union Street, something I usually dread. The first trail run of the Pine Hill Park Summer Sunset Series is tomorrow night, and of course that means lots of hills. No dread allowed this summer; Ghandi's thoughts are going to push me up Union Street in the morning and the mountain bike trails at sunset. Bring it!

A day of racing

The women in the spring training group had their pick of a 5K or 10K race today, and were joined by several women from the marathon and half-marathon groups who competed in a half-marathon. It's not often I can stand in one spot and cheer for the racers in a bunch of different distances.

The Crowley Road Races in nearby Rutland, VT roll four different race distances into one morning. Everything starts off at 8am:  the kids 1 mile run, 5K, 10K, and half-marathon. The kids start and finish in the middle of downtown Rutland to the cheers of hundreds of parents and friends. The other three races start at different points, with the courses converging on the finish in downtown Rutland.

Large races are exciting with lots of people and volunteers lining the race course, but they also make seeing your friends finish, and then finding them to celebrate after the race really difficult to the crowds of people. The Crowley Races are small and friendly, with a local band providing upbeat music, friendly volunteers handing out Gatorade and bagels, and the announcer calling out the names of people as they finish.

One of the highlights is meeting legendary Bill Rodgers who runs the 10K and then hangs around to sign autographs, pose for pictures, and talk running until the last person finishes and has a chance to talk with him. In large races the elite athletes have their own porta-potties and stay out of sight of the rest of the pack. Bill Rodgers hangs out with the pack, grabs his own water at the finish, and seems to really enjoy both running and talking with fellow runners.

This is the fifth year of our women's running group and today we had women from the latest spring training group running or walking in the 5K and 10K, BJ from the half-marathon group who became a half-fanatic today after finishing her third half-marathon in 90 days, women who ran in the winter half-marathon group and worked on speed in the 10K, women who finished a marathon in the past 3 weeks and dropped down to the half-marathon, one woman who was injured in marathon training and completed her first half-marathon today, and two women from past running groups who ran the 10K. All we were missing was a few children in the kids' race.

BJ the latest half-fanatic

The marathon group started training together 8 months ago in October 2011. Our race season started in April with the Westfield half-marathon and moved on to the Flying Pig marathon, Shires marathon, and Vermont City marathon. The Crowley Races mark the end of our group training season, but it's definitely not the end of racing for the women in our group. They're entering all sorts of races, from the fun and muddy Renegade Playground Challenge to local triathlons, bike events, trail runs, and road races of varying distances.

Vermont is plagued by tics who carry lyme disease, but the women in our group have been bitten by a friendly and healthy bug:  the running bug. There's no stopping a woman who pinned on a race number, competed, and crossed the finish line feeling fantastic!