Stand by me...Getting it done together

Two vans, Twelve Runners, 200ish miles, just under 35 hours...Team "Will Run for Spotted Cow" does Ragnar Chicago to Madison

This is our whole crew minus team captain Lisa who was not feeling well and missed the finish meet-up

The story begins months and months ago when Fleet Feet Madison and Sun Prairie Running Team friends Christian and Amy Borchardt invited us to join their team for the Ragnar Relay in May.  Because they had switched the traditional direction of this race to run from Chicago to Madison rather than the other way (which meant going home to sleep after) and we had been contemplating doing one of these some day, we were not too difficult to convince. 

There were a few bumps in the road as we struggled to figure out who was running what distances (I was struggling and needed fairly low distance...and to know so I could train), which van, and other logistics. But we hung in, and concentrated on what might be fun about it. 

A few months before the race, I decided I needed to have a themed skirt for the race, and we had option to have running shirts made.  Since I was making skirts anyway, I offered them to the team and 6 of us opted to have them...as you will see in the photos.

In the few weeks leading up to the race, we all met, we passed ideas and lists and planning documents back and forth...and of course I sewed skirts.

The night before the race began the team delivered the van to Glenda and I for decoration (which we had been elected to do) made our plans for the morning...and as the saying goes "sh*t got real."

Windows with obligatory cow puns....

Drawing cows....

And my finishing touch...

We had planned a meeting time that seemed awfully early to meet up to drive to Waukegan, IL where we would check in and meet up with Van 1 as they finished the first set of running legs. Everyone was arriving and we were beginning to load when one team member realized she had forgotten her shoes and had to run home and get them...turns out something similar happened last year and that's why the extra time had been built in. 

All 6 of us (Christian, Amy, Glenda, Mary, Vanessa and I) plus a "hitchhiker" by the name of Doreen, who was on another team but needed a ride to meet up with her group 

loaded up in good time and headed down the road.  We had all met each other before, except for Doreen, but we were not necessarily close friends, so we spent the ride down telling race stories, showing pictures and getting to know each other better.  And getting to know Doreen (new friend, score!)

Van 2 crew.  Amy, Vanessa, me, Glenda, Christian and Mary

We arrived in plenty of time to sign in and shop for a while in the gear store (and ending up with some new singlets).  I wanted a Ragnar finisher's shirt...but refused to buy it, as we had not finished.  I only had to hope there would be some at the finish.  Then we watched and waited for Van 1 and their runners to arrive. Although I was nervous about the whole thing, I decided to put myself in the mindset of "this will be fun" and wore my delusionally optimistic running shirt. 

We also learned our team's hand-off ritual demonstrated by Amy and Mary below

Fist bump.....

.....and chug

In due time we met up with Van 1, and after a little time chatting and waiting. Lisa arrived at the handoff, slapped the slap bracelet on Christian's wrist and he was off.  The rest of us ran for the van to go to the next transfer point, as I prepared for my first leg.  

Pulling out of the parking lot with Mary driving was an adventure in itself.  Everyone in a party/race mood milling around and a big vehicle to maneuver.  We managed to direct our driver to back out and we all piled in.  But people were still milling...so mild-mannered Mary rolled down her window and started shouting "Rental vehicle coming through!  Fully insured!  Watch out, fully insured rental vehicle coming through!" while the rest of us cracked up. 

We made it to the hand off in Zion, IL in plenty of time and I had an excellent run along the bike path there.  Glenda met me about a little under a mile out and run with me for a little while and cut off as I did the last bit to get ready for her handoff. I requested a banana and a diet pepsi at the end...which becomes important later. 

Coming in to hand off to Glenda

Glenda handed off to Vanessa, Vanessa to Mary,  Mary to Amy...and we came back to Van 1 and proceeded to dinner at Noodles to carb up, a stop at Starbucks to load up on caffeine as we would be running all night and the next van switch point. 

Vanessa looking strong

Mary on the run as seen through the van window

Amy on the run...check out the unicorn shot (both feet off the ground)

When we arrived at the next major exchange there was still time to wait for our other van. And there was some concern that they would hold some groups before sending them on.  This is sometimes logistically necessary to avoid crowding at exchange points ahead and assure there are enough volunteers etc.  At this point it was past our bedtime, we were tired from being in the van, and we were just waiting around.  We knew we would have a bed for a few hours after our van's next leg...but the gym floor looked awfully inviting to stretch out.  So 3 of us snoozed in the van and three hit the gym floor. 

Gym floor selfie 

By the time our "restful" time on the gym floor was over it was getting dark and had begun to rain...a chilly drizzle.  The rain lasted most of the night and added some further challenges.  Once Christian took over from the Lisa, who was Van 1's last runner.  We headed to the next exchange and Glenda and I got ready to run.  Glenda ran my leg as a "buddy" as I have a penchant for getting lost and she worried about me alone in the dark.  I certainly did not turn down her offer.  When poor Chris came in he had been forced to remove hearing aids due to rain, and couldn't see for the rain on his glasses...so it took us a moment to connect. 

Cold, rainy hand off...

But once we did connect Glenda and I were off for a cold, rainy and somewhat crowded 3.9 miles.  I had to take off my glasses part way through because they were fogged.  But fortunately I can see well enough to get by on the run, and the person I was handing off to was running beside me.

At the very end of the segment I had to laugh as a woman, roughly my pace, and clearly struggling a bit passed me and said,  "I hope you don't mind, but if I pass you I can record a 'kill' on our van...and I don't ever get any."  I just laughed and told her to go for it. (For the uninitiated, a 'kill' is when you pass someone and some vans keep count.  We did not.)

When we came to the next exchange I handed off to Glenda, who was off like a shot. And was met by my team with diet pepsi and banana in hand...loved that!

I was glad to get back to the van, I was cold and wet...and stayed pretty cold for the rest of our van's segments.  There aren't many pictures of the night runs because it was cold and rainy. And I spent a lot of time in the van.

About 3 a.m. we arrived at our motel.  The first van had the rooms for a few hours, and then we had them for a few hour while they ran.  The bed, the shower and the breakfast were all heaven and we got a badly needed 3 hours of sleep.

Then on to Lake Mills for the final switch.

Weather was better for Christian's last run

To be honest, I was not at all sure that I was going to be able to do my last leg.  But my team assured me that we were ahead of schedule, I could walk the whole thing if I wanted or needed to.  I did not want to do that, but I had the option in my back pocket. 

The Will Run for Spotted Cow handoff salute

My last leg was slow and included plenty of walking (as well as cheers from another team whose members we knew pretty well...thanks Ho Hos and Ding Dongs...you know who you are).  By the end it was getting warm and I was ready to be done.  Coming to the last turn I had determined to try to pick it up at the end, just to get it over.  But what I found there made me run even faster. 

As it happens, the team planned to meet me with a banana and a diet pepsi as before, but discovered that there was no diet pepsi in the cooler!  They saw a Mobile station nearby and decided to buy one...but when they went in, found that they did not have any singles...so they bought an entire 12-pack of cold (wonderful!) diet pepsi.  And there was Christian behind Glenda holding it high in the air. 

Christian holding up diet pepsi and banana

Me coming in...I may have yelled "I love you Chris!:)

Glenda hit the road

I checked off my final segment

My last run had been in fairly familiar territory, as it was mostly on a piece of the Glacial Drumlin Trail that I had biked before. It was exhilarating knowing we were getting close to "home."  

Speaking of home, the route passed very near ours. We took the opportunity to pick up our own car.  We wanted to have it at the finish for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that we did not want to make anyone else leave the party early...but thought for family and personal reasons we might need to take off before others finished their partying. 

From there we drove down and parked at the finish in Olin Park and located the rest of the team.  When Amy texted she was a mile out all of us went down and waited just off the path at intervals.  We chose to be right before the finish chute. As Amy passed each of us we fell in behind so that we could finish the relay together.

Amy running in, with Christian at her side and other teammates falling in behind

Then we received our medals, had pizza and beer or soda, chatted awhile (and got finisher's shirts....they still had them!)  Our time for covering the 200-ish  miles (I heard it was actually about 189) was 34:24:19...full of epic adventures. 

The medals, when pieced together, sum it all up nicely....

We are Ragnarians, we believe together we can accomplish anything

Would I do it again? I've given it a lot of thought...and perhaps my personal medal (each is different) says it best.

The front of my medal

Sore legs...and memories...

The answer?  Now that my legs are less sore...I'd make more memories.  Maybe not next year, but someday....

Weather or not?

Ragnar Chicago to Madison was  coming up when I started thinking about this blog post.  The number of times I had checked the weather for those two days  approached 2 billion and 12. Not that I could do anything about it.  I think it is just something runners do. And in the end we had surprises anyway.

But as I was checking the weather for the 49th time one day, I got to thinking about the times that weather really did create a race day ruckus. 

I have run in heat and rain and wind.  But probably the weather that has created the most havoc for me running is snow. 

So this is the story of the only two races that were ever cancelled in all the races we have done...one of which we found a replacement for and one of which we didn't...both in 2013. 

The first was shortly before Easter in Colorado. 

The view from the "replacement race" in March 2013

As always we watched the weather closely before we left and we knew there was a "slight" chance of some snow and that if it was icy the race, ironically called the Spring Fever 5k/10k,  would be cancelled. The closer to the day we came, the higher the chances of significant snow became.  But being the hearty (or perhaps foolhardy) folks that we are we headed north from Texas anyway. It was sunny when we arrived, and we dared to hope that the, by now dire, weather reports were wrong.  But by late afternoon the snow had started and there was ice accumulation and by evening the race had been cancelled.  

I was reconciled to the fact that I might have to do Colorado later, but Glenda was not.  She started digging for other races in the area.  She even looked at some that were an hour away in good weather which I said was a bad idea.  After digging around for a while at all kinds of race lists she found an announcement that said that the Quick Like a Bunny 5k/10k was on regardless of weather.  It was in City Park in Denver, about 12 miles from where we were staying and they had same day registration...so it was on!

A couple of crazed runners

By the time Saturday morning rolled around it was still snowing and there were about 7 inches on the ground. The temperature was 19 degrees F with a windchill of 3, and blowing snow. The visibility on the highway driving in was about a tenth of a mile (Glenda commented that I could say I had run in a blizzard)…and we thought that this was the single craziest thing we had ever done.  Then we arrived at the park and were sure. The wind was wicked the course was snowy and I, at least, was wondering if I was up to this. I added the race t-shirt to the other layers I was wearing (thus having 5 on top), added a second pair of socks and hung out in the heated bathroom for a while.

There were maybe a dozen hardcore, crazy souls doing the 10K and before they were out past the first turn Glenda was well out in front of everybody, female and male. told one really fit looking guy that we had flown in just to do a race and when we had been foiled had found this as a back up. I explained it was important to find one as this was state 19 in my quest to do all 50…he high fived me, and said “That’s hardcore! I have to know your name.” So I introduced myself. And reminded myself what Glenda and I have often said, “There is a fine line between crazy and hardcore…and you are not always sure when you have crossed it.”…we had!

Glenda won the 10K overall, I had checked off state 19, and we high fived our way back to the pavilion and out of the wind..and into the only heated spot (a small bathroom) to wait for awards. Eventually the time came for awards and the raffle.  They had $2000 in donated prizes, but only about 50-60 of their registered (and we two un-preregistered) had actually shown up, and even fewer had stayed. So there were lots of prizes for everyone and we all had a great giggle over it. Glenda got her winners’ award, but we also won a Powerbar pack, a pair of sunglasses, a restaurant gift card  and…wait for it…a WHOLE cherry pie.

It was unquestionably the craziest, coldest, most hardcore and most fun thing I’d done at that point. And to me, it really was all about the fun!
---

Later that same year though, the weather totally shut down our racing plans. It was early October in the Black Hills. Once again, it was temperate on our arrival, but it did not last for long.

Glenda checking the snow the first morning...18 inches then. The final total would be 30.

The flurries started late that afternoon, by morning there was a foot and half and it was still snowing.  With the race still a day away, we were hoping beyond hope that they would be able to do some kind of race...we were hanging on update e-mails and Facebook notices.  All the while it continued to snow, and reports in the area were of downed power lines and closed roads.  For awhile it looked like they might still be able to put on a 5k...but when the snow picked up it became obvious.  Toward evening the power in Hill City went down and everything closed up.  The race was called off.  At some point we decided we would just go to Rapid City and leave early.  But when we got to the interstate we hit a literal wall of snow and a closed interstate.  So, back to the motel to wait it out.  Dinner was cheese and crackers as there was no way to heat anything.  A few hours later the emergency lights in the motel went out as battery power failed and cell service went down. 

Breakfast the next morning was cereal and bagels and anything that didn't need cooking.  The milk and juice were cooled in a snow bank!

This is the trailhead on race morning...the snow was hip deep and you couldn't see any trail, just a sign

By later that morning the power was still out, but the temperature was better and the local streets were plowed.  So we went for a run.  I went back to the hotel after 3 or 4 miles, while Glenda continued.  I will admit, alone in the hotel room, I shed a few tears.  I'd had the best training season of my life...and no race.  But my spirits were raised a bit when the lights came back on.  When Glenda got back we began talking and decided we would just have to find another half marathon to do very soon. 

So we began looking at upcoming races.  First near home in the next few weeks, and had half decided on one in Salado, TX (just up the road from Austin, where we lived at the time) in the next few weeks.  But I wasn't quite ready to pull the trigger. I was still hungry and grumpy, because although the power was finally back, there was still nothing open in town.  

A little while later, Glenda checked again to find that the cafe up the road had just opened...and off we went.  I may not have run the race, but I ate a race worth of some of the best food I can ever remember.

This is my "not really post race" meal.  I was so hungry I ate half before I took a photo.

While we were at the restaurant it occurred to me why I couldn't bring myself to sign up for the Salado race. I wanted to get a state, and it seemed silly to run a half marathon just to run it.  So we decided to look for something else. 

When we got back to the room we did more searching and settled on Richmond a few weeks later.  It was actually a nice choice as someone else we knew was doing it as well. The good news?  Richmond was probably the best half marathon I ever did!

We had many adventures getting home as well. When we arrived at the Rapid City airport, we discovered that most of the power was still out there.  Not only had the weather shut down power, they had also had a generator fire in the back up generator. We were not at all sure that we would be getting out. But after hand-written tickets and manual bag search and numerous delays...we finally made it on the plane to Denver.  But I confess, we did not really believe we were getting home until the plane was in the air. 

In the end, I had a good story, a good race a few weeks later in Richmond...and eventually a different race in South Dakota...but it took a while for this one to become "something we laughed about later."

Comparison is the thief of Joy

Taken after my 5K PR in Victoria Park, London, UK in 2013

I really believe the quote from Theodore Roosevelt which is the title of this piece.  I have put it another way.  I coined the phrase "compare and despair" when I was training years ago with a much faster group.  This is why I never compete for age group awards (though I love the few that I have) and I don't worry about finishing last (I did that once and still had a PR...just a fast field that day).  But I do compare myself to myself...and occasionally I have to take a step back and think about that. 

Many runners, maybe even most runners I know measure themselves, at least in part by PRs (Personal Records) or PBs (Personal Bests).  As focused as I am on the fun, I am no different.  I don't race against others for the most part...but I do track my PRs as a way of measuring progress...comparing myself to myself. 

And most of the time this is a good mindset, but sometimes there are setbacks and changes...and we all get older.  So sometimes pushing for those PRs can be enormously frustrating, and for at least for a time, impossible. In those times, be they only a moment or a season of your life, it may be worth reconsidering. 

This is before my 4 mile PR in April 2014 in Wauconda, IL

My strategy in these moments, or seasons, is to press reset.  There are many who say a PR is a PR is a PR.  And of course I do keep track of my overall PRs.  But when I hit a rough patch, like my knee surgery several years ago for instance, I merely shout (usually quietly and internally) "Plot twist! Time for a reset!" For a year or so after that instance I measured PSPRs (Post Surgery PRs) which kept me going without beating myself up. 

On the run setting my 5 mile PR at the Georgetown Turkey Trot in Georgetown, TX November 2013

As I mentioned in my previous blog posting, I am having to press reset on my running due to some medication side effects, press reset on my type 2 diabetes with a brush up with the educator and nutritionist, and further a reset on my working life as I retired this week!  So it is time to start tracking Post Retirement, new season in life PRs. I may never get back to my 2013-2014 pace...but I will keep moving and improving!

NOTE: Interestingly all 3 of the PRs pictured in this blog (as well as my 10K PR, not pictured because I don't have a photo) are overall PRs...and all of them have happened SINCE my surgery for a torn meniscus, which at the time caused a reset. So a reset isn't giving up, or the end of all things...just a way to keep going and continue to feel good about one's progress. And even if you never have another overall PR, it reminds you that as long as you're moving, you're improving. 

Trust yourself and be proactive

I like to think of myself as a strong person, and a relatively smart one.  After all, I managed to run a marathon after having had back problems (and issues with type 2 diabetes during training). I came back after a knee injury.  I managed physically and mentally navigate through all that so I thought I was pretty set and had medical issues well in hand. 

But sometimes my mind plays tricks, and sometimes what I think is well in hand, isn't.  It is interesting too, how a step out of the ordinary every day flow of life, can bring struggles into focus as you get messages you didn't even know you needed. 

So here is my recent story.  Earlier this year (in mid-April) we were headed to Boston for Glenda to run the marathon, and incidentally for me to run the BAA 5k.  Because we were going spend a few days anyway, we decided to go early and visit with friends in Rhode Island where I lived and taught at URI for 4 years.  We toured the old haunts and ran that Thursday evening with my old running group...the NRA (Narragansett Running Association). We then went to the traditional Thursday night dinner at the Mews Tavern with the group, and there an amazing thing happened.

One of the guys started teasing another about "all that crap you are eating." They went on to explain that the other fellow had high cholesterol and taking statin drugs had really messed him up. I knew statins could cause muscle aches and assumed that was the problem, but in the course of conversation asked anyway how they had messed him up.  He told me it messed with his running, he was so sore and his pace fell off, etc. 

A lightbulb went off in my brain.  You see, I've been on a statin for a while.  When I went on it I was building mileage for a half marathon, and I chalked up the soreness I felt to the extra miles.  I had a couple of halfs in that period that I had trouble finishing because I was so sore.  But as I reduced my miles, the soreness did not go away.  I didn't ache all the time like my mother had on statins, but the aftermath of a 3 miles run felt more like I'd done 10.  I chalked it up to being older, or muscle imbalances or weight or .... it became the new normal to the point that I didn't really report it to my coach.  Or if I did I'd say something like was a little more sore than I should be after the run, but it seems to be recovering.  Maybe, I thought, this is a side effect, I'll ask my doctor the next time I have occasion to see her.

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, my body, and another medication, made that occasion sooner...

You can't really tell from this picture, but I had an "interesting" thing occur on Saturday at the BAA 5K.  

I was on lisinopril, an ACE inhibitor and common blood pressure medication, not so much for my blood pressure but as a kidney protector since I am a type 2 diabetic.  People do develop allergies to these drugs, normally in the form of a dry cough.  I can't be that simple.  I normally would take that drug in the morning, but not workout until a few hours later.  This day I took it and headed out to race. About 2 miles in, I noticed that my left lower lip had started to swell.  My thought was, "that's weird, I didn't have any cold sore warning signs...and there's no sign of a bite or sting." At first I thought it was probably just a cold sore...but it was weird. 

By the time we got back to the hotel, I looked like the selfie below.

At first I thought it was some sort of weird cold sore, but I posted something on social media about it, and a physician friend suggested that it could very well be angioedema and if it spread to tongue or throat, or did not reverse to see someone. I took benadryl and we developed a plan if that did not reverse things (fortunately it did).  

Clearly I was going to have to see my doctor sooner rather than later.  So when I came home, I made an appointment and I set about planning for it.  I wanted to be very clear about what I wanted from this appointment. I clearly wanted off the ACE inhibitor, and probably the statin.  But more than that, I determined that I needed a "reset" and decided to ask for a referral to the diabetes educator for a brush up and a referral to PT in case the soreness problem was not the meds (or in case I had developed imbalances in compensating for it). This seems to me to be a lot to ask in one appointment, because doctors are so limited in the time they can spend, but I thought...."if I really have my ducks in a row maybe I can do this." And after all it is my body, I have an opinion and I know what I am motivated to do. So I armed myself with my swollen lip picture, brief versions of the stories above and a list of what I wanted. 

The upside:  Preparation pays.  After a good conversation with my provider, I was taken off the ACE inhibitor for the time being as my recent tests showed no kidney involvement (we will deal with further when the statin situation is completely figured out). I was taken off the statin and put on a different one for which a much smaller dose is effective.  I was totally off any statins for 2 weeks, so that I could get a baseline for soreness.  OMG, the difference is amazing!  I don't know how I didn't realize that this could be the problem. Interestingly as soon as I said to the doctor about the statin, "I'm very sore, and I didn't realize that it could be the med as I was building mileage when I started it, but now a 3 mile run feels like 10 afterward." She nodded and told me that was a typical description of this particular side effect...soreness or aching that is out of proportion for the activity level.  I just started the new statin (fingers crossed!).  And she was all about giving me the "reset" I wanted too.  As a healthy, active lifestyle beats any medication alone for the control of diabetes and its repercussions.

The downside: As I understand it the statin side effect not only causes soreness, but slows the natural muscle adaptation.  So all the miles of running and soreness did not result in the improvement one would expect.  In fact I got much slower, and less likely to do all the miles, besides.  So in a very real way, after 12 years of running, I am starting over.  It is a bit daunting.  I have chosen to do some things with no expectations other than to finish, and I have backed down the distance on a few events.  But I'm determined.  Nowhere to go but up.

A side note: As a library/information professional (recently retired), I have to point out that I googled side-effects of statins and running after my conversation with my friends.  The first thing I found was an article from Runner's World written when statins were first being widely prescribed. They were of the opinion that statins did not affect running. (Not a bad article... just outdated). This is why you never stop at the first source...and you go to the scientific work directly if you can.  When I did that, I found there were many articles, much newer that suggested (once you slogged through all the scientific verbiage) that this was indeed a documented problem for some people. 

The moral of the story, Trust yourself, do your homework, and be proactive. 

Onward!

Joy and an attitude of gratitude

I would be the first to tell you that joy and gratitude have not always been my go to.  Oh, I always had a sense of humor (often pretty self-deprecating), and as a kid I reveled in pleasing my father and annoying my mother by playing the straight man for my dad's corny jokes (they were dad jokes to the nth degree).  But I honestly didn't associate joy and gratitude with each other and purposely include them in my life until 2 things happened....I became involved in the academic study of play and I became a runner.

Through a series of life experiences, I began to get an inkling that the things we did for recreation and play meant far more to us than a trivial "something to do when we are not working."  Subsequently, I spent a good part of my academic career studying the intersections of information and recreation, and seeing what play of various kinds....from video games to triathlons... meant to their participants.  I'll talk more in another blog about the academic side, but what I came to personally in terms of personal philosophy was that play is not trivial, it is VITAL...now more than ever. Play is as important to adults as to children...and finding our joy (and our gratitude) is as just about as important as anything in life. 

I began running in 2005 at the age of 49.  I always enjoyed it. And as I got older I was glad I could do it.  I like the feeling of moving under my own power (even when it hurts sometimes).  The joy has always been there, more or less.  This is definitely one of the ways I play...but it was this race, the Hoover Dam Half in December of 2013, that taught me about the gratitude.  It was my second half marathon in as many months.  There was a long uphill at the start, and I was struggling a little. The course runs on a rail trail with several tunnels, and I was moving along and doing ok, but questioning my sanity about running another half so soon.  Then I passed through one of the tunnels...

And was greeted by a view like this one.  My instantaneous reaction was a deep heartfelt "thank you" that came from nowhere and went out to the universe. I was so grateful in that moment that I could still do these things and see these things.  I am not a particularly religious person, but this was definitely a spiritual moment. And I called it a gratitude moment.  When I started paying attention, I found that almost every race has such a moment, big or small.

In order to add to the joy, and the sense of play...I began running in costume (even races that are not commonly costumed). There is something magical about dressing up and letting go that brings a smile to yourself...and to others around you (even though some may shake their heads!) For me the joy begins with the creation of the costumes and lingers long after through the memories.

So let's be grateful, let's be joyful, let's play!  Here's to miles of smiles!!

Even a bad day can make a good story

My mother once said of me that if there is a hard way to do something I will find it, so perhaps it is not surprising that the lyrics of Jim Croce's song "The Hard Way Every Time" appeal to me.  The last few verses go like this...

"But in looking back at the lessons I've learned
And the mountains I wanted to climb
I just look at myself to find
I've learned the hard way every time

'Cause I've had my share of broken dreams
And more than a couple of falls
And in chasing' what I thought were moonbeams
I have run into a couple of walls
But in looking back at the faces I've been
I would sure be the first one to say
When I look at myself today
Wouldn't done it any other way"

One of the reasons I have few regrets on the races that went wrong, is that they were not only good learning experiences...but they make great stories later! Whether they are weather-related like the third one here (and I have more of those...which I'll share later) or result in a DNS or DNF...there is always something to learn and something to share later.

I have had plenty of hard days since I started running and racing, but there were 4 that were bad in especially epic ways...I share the stories here.

A FAILURE IN AUSTRALIA

Wearing an Austin Duathlon tri top....maybe that's where I went wrong.

My first open water swim never happened!

This story begins on the flight to Australia, long under the best of circumstances. We were on our way for Glenda to compete in her first ITU World Long Course Triathlon in October 2009. We made it to LAX with no trouble...but the next flight was to Melbourne (with one more leg to Perth to follow).  Unfortunately there was a medical emergency on our plane...and we were told to land in Fiji to remove the passenger for medical attention.  Upside...I got to see the sunrise in Fiji.  Downside...it was through a tiny airplane window as none of us had the appropriate visas and so on to de-plane.  Other downside...4+ hours added to the flight.  I must say that Qantas and all their employees handled a double deck plane full of cranky and concerned passengers with grace and professionalism.  They didn't tell us until we took off again that we were only the second plane of our size to land and take off from this airstrip (probably better we didn't know).

They handled the re-booking from Melbourne to Perth well too.  But despite all the efforts after more than 30 hours en route, it was going to take longer than the 24 or 36 hours available to me before my race, a "friends and family" aquathon, to recover. So I was already at a disadvantage, but wait, there's more...

This race was to be my first open water swim.  It was in a tidal river and pretty wavy as you can see above. The distance was 500 meters...which was at the edge of my comfort zone.  I arrived at the dock only to find out that we would have "a little warm up swim out to the start buoy"  (so 500 meters). Umm.....

But I gamely started out, and got about 2/3rds of the way there when I came to my senses.  I was just not ready for this and there was nothing to be gained by pushing the issue. It wasn't like we'd traveled all the way here for me to race.   I waved down the motorized launch with the safety crew. Said, " I've decided it's not my day." And they hauled me in and back to the dock in time to run to the start of the longer warm up event for the athletes, and tell Glenda I'd bailed.  I had a great time cheering her that day and again when she did the tri. No regrets.

OH NO, SAN ANTONIO

Fall of 2009 was definitely one for stories, if not for races.  This particular race, the Rock N Roll San Antonio in November of that year was such a race disaster (mostly due to my own stupidity) that I have no photos of the day.  

So we came back from Australia after Glenda's event.  This half marathon was about a month later, and was one that many of our running friends did.  Glenda went back to Austin and I returned to Rhode Island where I was working at the time.  I was feeling great, no jet lag or anything.  Went and taught my class the evening after I got back, went home....woke up 3 hours later with chills and a fever of 102.  I had contracted swine flu while on the trip!  

Still there were several weeks until the half marathon.  I was much better, but still had a nagging cough and I considered skipping the race.  I even told my coach...who called me.  He encouraged me to go for it, as did Glenda at the time. And truth be told, I kind of wanted to be talked into it. I had a huge coughing jag during bib pickup, but I still decided (perhaps against my better judgement) to go ahead. 

The next morning I was still having cold symptoms, and without much thought I took some cold medicine (not a great idea blood pressure-wise). We arrived at my assigned corral (30 of 33, I believe), and stood around.  I had a fleeting thought of not starting, but thought...well, I'm here.  The fact that they sent off a corral every 3 minutes meant that some of our running friends were finished or nearly finished before we ever started. But finally, at long last , 90 minutes after the first corral began, we were off. 

By miles 5 the wheels were coming off....more coughing, etc. I determined it was not my day.  And in some ways that is where this story really begins.  We were told that there was a sag to the start if someone had a problem.  So we stopped at medical and asked about the sag...the response?  Blank stares, followed by, "We can send you to the ER."  No, I can't finish, but I don't need the ER.  

Glenda stayed with me until someone (not an official sag, just a volunteer) came along with a golf cart and said he'd take myself and another lady to find the sag.  I sent Glenda on her way.  And off we went, asking cops and volunteers along the way and always getting the same answer "Gee I don't know, we can send you to the ER I guess, but I don't know about a sag."  I was getting very frustrated.  The golf cart was running out of battery, the other person on the cart bailed and decided to walk the rest of the race.  I decided to get off at the next medical tent.  Same story.

So I started walking, and asked again at the next medical stop.  They said "not here, but cut across to the medical stop on the marathon route, sag is there"  I went where they pointed me, and asked. The answer "no idea, we can send you to the ER...."  I said never mind and stomped back to the previous station.  I wasn't feeling well and I was frantic because I knew Glenda by now had finished the race and would be looking for me...but this is before we routinely carried cell phones during the race, especially when we thought we'd be together the whole way. I exploded, and told the person who had sent me through gritted teeth, "They tell me they don't know anything about sag!"  After a brief exchange, he said, "I will walk there with you." We got there and he asked where the sag was parked.  The people at the tent said, "We don't know anything about sag, " then the lady turned toward a man standing a few yards away and said, "do you know anything about a sag?" The man answered, "yes, I'm the sag." Ho-ly Cow! Talk about lack of communication.

I FINALLY got back to the meeting point and Glenda was not there, because she'd gone to the race people to see if they could locate me.  I spotted one of our group and fell into her arms sobbing in relief. A few minutes later Glenda arrived and once we were done crying and hugging, we got laughing about how I'd given Glenda an amazing negative split on her race.

I'll be honest about this one.  It is an epic story, but I still have not brought myself to do another Rock and Roll branded race as this left a bad taste.  I think I'm almost ready....ALMOST. 

DOC NEEDS A DOC

January 2016 we were at Disney doing the Dopey Challenge.  Well Glenda was doing the Challenge, I was doing a challenge of my own creation.  The Doc Challenge, I called it. 5k Thursday, Half on Saturday.  I figured I'd call it the Doc Challenge because a. I have a Ph.D. and b. I'm too smart to even attempt the other one. :)

The 5K (with Glenda as the White Rabbit and me as Alice) went well.  But the day of the half was humid as only Florida can be.  I was dressed as Doc, and Glenda was Snow White.  About mile 9, we spotted the dreaded Balloon Ladies behind us, and were just seconds ahead of the sweep busses.  I was struggling.  (Side note: don't dread the balloon ladies, they are very sweet and encouraging).  By mile 10 they were passing us and I knew I had to pick it up.  Mile 11 was my fastest one in the second half of the race.  Once we were into the park I was pretty sure that we wouldn't be swept, but it was still a slog.  The comments between runners and Glenda's encouragement kept me going.  I crossed the finish line and my legs said, "no mas!" and I flopped into the nearest wheelchair.

This was not the way I wanted to finish my race, but I have to tell you the finish line crew and the medical crew were amazing! The photographers made sure to get our photos even as I was being taken to medical.  The medical folks were quick to diagnose moderate dehydration (no IVs needed) and gave me power ade to start...but since I am type 2 diabetic they also checked my blood sugar which was a bit high and switched to water.  They helped me out of my soaking and hot shirt, gave me ice, and an oversized leftover 5k shirt from the year before so I was wearing something dry. (Still one of my favorite shirts!) They took care of me efficiently and were kind to Glenda as well. 30 minutes or so later, I was relatively recovered and on my way.

I never want to end up in medical again, but if I do, I hope they are as wonderful and efficient as run Disney.

HIS BITE WAS WORSE THAN HIS BARK

The final story in this blog happened just last year.  The first weekend in August, to be precise.  On that weekend, I had planned to do a pool swim sprint distance triathlon on Saturday and a 2-person relay on Sunday (I was swimming and running).  The first was a very small race, with a somewhat shortened swim in the pool and very hilly bike ride and a run.  The swim went well. The bike...well not so much.  And I never got to the run...

The swim went well and the transition was very smooth. I had worried about the bike because I'm not strong on the hills,  and it was a struggle.  But I had reached the top of the worst of a series of hills and even enjoyed one downhill segment with an endless (and gorgeous) view from the bluff across a sweeping vista of Wisconsin cornfields.  

I then began to climb one of the last hills on the course, and there halfway up the hill I saw them.  Two farm dogs yapping and fussing generally.  I shouted at them and picked up my pace as much as I was able (not much)...but one of them darted out and I felt a sharp pain in the back of my right thigh. I chased him off and re-mounted my bike (I did not fall, but I was forced to hop off to avoid it). I thought I was alone and the only way to get out of it was to keep going. I was crying more out of frustration than pain, when a truck pulled up on me and asked if I was OK.  They were from the race and had seen it happen from down the road.  They asked if I wanted to go on and I said, "I don't know.  I know he nipped me, but I can't tell how bad it is."  So they took a look and said the skin was broken and there was one puncture.  I decided I was done as the shock wore off and it started to ache. I was also worried what Glenda would think and how I was going salvage anything of the relay the next day. 

Meanwhile Glenda was finishing the race (in first place) and did not know where I was.  The guy in the truck radioed ahead that they were bringing me in, and that I'd had a dog bite.  That information was relayed to Glenda and she was freaking out. A vivid imagination can be a bad thing in those circumstances.  They had also notified EMS and the Sheriff, because dog bites have to be reported by law.

In what seems like an hour, but was in reality, minutes I was back at the transition area.  EMS looked at the bite and sent me to the local ER to have it cleaned and dressed.  While Glenda gathered up our bikes the race people called ahead so the ER was expecting me and the animal control people could take my report there.  I heard the announcer say that awards would begin in 10 minutes and it dawned on me that Glenda probably placed. So I said to the race director who was making sure I was taken care of, "how did Glenda do?  I don't want her to miss awards."  She told me, "she won...and we will make sure she gets her medal."  And off we went to the ER.  

The Reedsburg WI emergency room was very good.  They cleaned the wound efficiently and prescribed a few days of antibiotics, just in case. I think the doctor was a bit bemused when I started asking about my race the next day.  I really wanted to do it.  I mean really, a relay team named the Sisterhood of the Flaming Lederhosen...who wouldn't want to do that?  Especially since we had costumes!  So the doctor finally said, I could run if I didn't hurt too much...but it would not be wise to swim.  As we were wrapping up, the nurse came in and handed Glenda her medal.  They had delivered it to the ER!  We actually drove back to thank the race director and her crew on the way out of town.  And before we were home, my relay partner had agreed to the swim and the bike...and I ran the next day with a band-aid printed with NO DOGS ALLOWED!

So here's to learning the hard way and epic stories and keeping on keeping on... even if we might have done it some other way.

Relay? Really!

 

One of my favorite athletic things to do is to share.  Sometimes that means running with my wife, my daughter, my granddaughters and their parents.  But over the years it has also meant running a LOT of running, duathlon and triathlon relays.

I understand that some people don't particularly like to relay.  For instance one of my first coaches really hated relays.  He didn't mind if we did them, but he didn't want any part of them.  When we finally pinned him down, it turned out that because he was very competitive by nature, he felt too much performance pressure in relays. I'm sure others would rather rely on their own ability and not have to worry about someone else.  

I on the other hand LOVE to relay, but when I build a team it is based on certain rules, which I explore below, along with some, but certainly not ALL of my relay history. 

 

 My very first relay came about because the Austin Duathletes, a team I was affiliated with at the time was doing their (at the time informal) Protest Du 2007. Glenda was going to do it, and I sort of wanted to....but I was very nervous about the bike course.  Then I found out that they were allowing relays and went to find a cyclist. I found Maggie Dolch (now Komazec), I ran both run legs, she cycled...we had a blast...and a habit was born, right along with Suellen's #1 rule of relays...Speed is not the point, fun is. First and foremost have fun!

The next year I did a relay at the same race (now more formal) with Glenda as my cyclist. She lost a PEDAL on her bike and finished anyway.  We had a lot of laughs over whether she would have one BIG leg from all the one legged drills on the hills. 

Just as an aside I also relayed 2 different times with Miriam Raviv, one year as the Golden Girls (I've forgotten our other team name) at the Tough Cookies Du.  Miriam was the team cyclist and we always had a blast.

 

As much as I enjoyed the earlier relays it would be 3 years later before I did another, this time the Silicon Labs Marathon relay.  It was my 55th birthday, which I referred to as my "senior menu" birthday....and our team was called "Suellen's Birthday Bash."  Glenda ran 12K, Anna Belousov and Angel Syrett each ran 10k and Teen Edwards and I each ran 5K...with me anchoring.  As I was about to run across the finish, I spotted all my ladies running my way (along with a couple of their "other halves") with a big birthday banner to run me across the finish. While some of us were worried before hand about letting each other down, in the end we had a blast (and a fantastic brunch at Threadgill's) afterwards.  This lead to Suellen's #2 rule of relays...If you are worried about your pace, your ability, letting down your teammates or anything else, refer to rule #1.

By the time I ran the Zilker Relays with Team "I thought they said Rum"(Tammy Roen and Anne Eckerd along with Glenda and I) the 2 rules were well established. And we took fun seriously with our bunny ears!

I didn't really relay much more until I started doing triathlon relays every year after we moved to Madison.  The first of these was in September  2014 when Bridget (Kudrle), Eric (Kestin) and Suellen (Adams) used their first initial to become the BESt Tri Team.

I have done multiple relays in the years since, and I can give you 4 good reasons why people relay...with some example: 

REASON #1 

The first reason to do a triathlon relay (or any relay where some folks are doing the full race) can be described as either boredom or FOMO (fear of missing out). This is the case where you are trailing along with someone who is doing the race, but you are neither prepared to do the whole thing nor sit back and just watch.  

Like this time in 2015 when Glenda was doing Elkhart Lake and I got Stu Chase and Chris Neff to Relay with me (Team name: 2 Cubs and a Cougar)

REASON #2

The second reason is that you are relatively new and want to see what it is all about or are not ready to do the whole thing for some reason. 

 

For example last summer I did 2 relays that included Bridget Kudrle and her son J.D. (who may not be quite ready for a full sprint, but is an amazing competitor)  Team Shaving off 50 years and Team Misery Loves Company were both anchored by J.D.'s run.  

This coming summer I have a couple more teams set up that will introduce some of my relay-mates to the sport.

REASON #3

The third reason to try a relay is that you have 1 of the disciplines you feel you need to work on and you want to concentrate on just that piece of the race.

For example in June of 2016, I really wanted to work on my bike...so I did the bike leg at the Lake Mills Tri

As a member of the Three PACsketeers with swimmer Janice Baylor and runner Glenda Adams

REASON #4

The fourth reason you might want to relay is if you are "making a comeback." So you've been injured (or still are and can't do one of the disciplines) or for whatever reason you lost your motivation and have been away for a while.  An example of this is my friend Bridget Kudrle who I have relayed with often. She had a foot injury a few years ago and has been coming back. She was the swimmer in The Sparklers, for instance...the team pictured at the top of this Blog entry.

REASON #5

This is my favorite reason, and probably should be included along with any of the others as the very best reason to do a relay....to HAVE FUN!! Naturally there are sometimes bits that are not traditionally fun like a very hilly bike ride or a very hot summer run or having someone swim over you...but even those stories can be fun when shared with like-minded friends and teammates!  And so much of the rest of it is fun, from naming your team (you may have noticed that I like sort of silly team names), to choosing some piece of clothing or bling that will identify you as a team, to just the camaraderie that comes with doing something a little challenging as a team. 

And if you are lucky enough to have a spouse who is a photoshop expert, like I do...you can have some epic team photos!

Like this one of The Untouchables with Polly Hamner and Becca Marshall

Or this one of WOO PAC(hers)! with Chris Neff and Eric Kestin

So....WHO WANTS TO RELAY WITH ME?