sporty: January 2005 Archives

Ridiculous as it may seem, I did my first ever 5K today. Actually, it was my first ever road race of any kind. I always assumed the first pure running race I would do would be a marathon, just because thats the kind of distance I like... I like long, slow, painful slogs over many miles... this quick and short thing was all new to me.

It took running through a cave to get me to do my first 5K.

The Groundhog Run is the world's only race that is run entirely underground. You can read more about it here. Needless to say, it was a very cool and very different experience for this tri-chickie who is used to open country roads and wind and temperatures that actually change.

I was nervous.... a 5K is FAST for me and I had no idea how to pace one, as would become obvious after Mile 1. I lined up near the 10min/mile crowd near the back and made small talk with the woman next to me before the gun went off (actually, I think there was no gun, I think they just said "Go!")... it took forever to actually get to the start line... it was a bit like being at the back of an Ironman swim start, I suppose, minus the water and flailing arms. When I finally got going I found that I had started way too far back and was having to fight to weave around people. It was fun tho, and I felt great, if a bit frustrated by the crowds for the first mile. Got to Mile 1 at about 8:30... an 8:30 mile? REALLY? Cool.

Needless to say it went downhill from there and I ended up slowing down quite a bit. When all was said and done I averaged 9:30 miles, which I know all the runners out there are scoffing at, but I'm pretty content with... I am NOT a sprinter and in no way a natural runner.

It was a cool and totally different experience then a triathlon. Much more laid back. Much more family-friendly. There was a father and daughter that I played leap frog with for most of the race... the dad was trotting along next to his little girl with a camera.. she must have been 7 or 8 and had NO sense of pace but was quite a little trooper... and dad couldn't have been prouder.

Running thru the tunnels of the cave was cool... especially with such a big group of people... seeing this long line snake around the columns and turns... very cool.

It was fun and hurt like HELL and I will probably do one (or many) again sometime... maybe on the surface of the Earth this time.

When I headed out the door tonight for my hour and a half run I was pleasantly surprised to see the flurries coming down. I had no idea that ten minutes later those flurries would turn into some big mother snowflakes.

When I left there was just a light dusting of snow on the ground. As the flakes got bigger and bigger, running became more and more difficult. By the time I got home there was a good inch or maybe more on the ground and my progress had slowed way down. It didn't matter tho, I was loving it. People were driving (very slowly) by looking at me with disbelief. Cars were sliding all over the road and yet I had perfect traction. I was warm and toasty under all the layers even if my feet were soaking wet.

For whatever reason my mind began to wander back through more memorable excusions in inclimate weather. And I remembered the night that probably began my love affair with winter running. I was a sophomore in college and not a runner at the time, but I liked to go for walks. It was two weeks after my first "real" breakup and I was still in the depths of despair from it. I had been functioning in a black coud that wouldn't seem to lift... and since it was my first time going through this kind of heatbreak, I didn't yet know if it would EVER go away. It was a dark night and the snow was coming down hard. I couldn't stand the confines of my dorm room any longer and I was in no mood to go out. So I grabbed my walkman and bundled up and went for a long walk. I remember this SO vividly. I had been out walking for about two hours and was heading back towards the dorm, into the snow. Widespread Panic's hauntingly beautiful version of Let's Get the Show on the Road was playing on my ear phones and the huge flakes were hitting my face and I felt alive for the first time in a while.

With class starting up again next week, I thought it might be wise to sit down and plug important dates into my calendar. And then I looked at my Ironman Coeur d'Alene training plan. Oh lord.

WHO told me it would be a good idea to sign up for the Ironman that is just five weeks after my last final?? I have an EIGHTEEN HOUR training week scheduled during finals. EIGHTEEN HOURS?!?!?! I should be able to whittle that down to 14 by skipping the swims and maybe lifting, but DAMN thats a lot of training during finals.

It should actually be doable. If anything it will keep me on track through the semester both school and training-wise. I definitly know some things that I will be doing differently this semester to make finals week a little more tolerable, but being able to fit in the training will be a real challenge.

We'll see how this turns out! Stay tuned... its sure to be good drama! ;)

I have long been fascinated by dog sled racing, which really should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me. It basically combines my two favorite things – ultra-endurance events and dogs. I’ve never done anything longer than an Ironman, and I’m not sure that I ever will, but I still love reading stories of people who do. A few years ago I spent my winter reading books about races like the Iditarod and Yukon Quest. I’d then bundle up and take the two labs for a walk around the block imagining that they were huskies and we were flying over a frozen trail.

I had forgotten about my interest in dog sled racing when I read an article in this month’s Outside magazine about this chick. She’s just 20 years old and about to attempt the Iditarod. And she’s blind.

Wow.

The sleet continued thru the night last night and switched over to snow flurries this morning. When all was said and done we had about an inch or so of ice and a half inch of snow. Schools and most businesses were closed today, and I couldn't have gone anywhere if I wanted to because my garage was iced shut.

I figured I would spend a dreadful 40 minutes this afternoon watching tv on the treadmill because the roads would be too slick to run on. Fortunately, the little bit of snow on top of the ice provided just enough traction to keep me upright and I was able to get out for an easy 4 miler (well, it would have been easy were it not for the beach effect of running on snow). It was just under 20 degrees with the flurries still coming down and a sharp 15 mph wind. Brrr. I was bundled up all the way (including my fleecy face mask thing and Smartwool hat). There were very few cars on the road and with the exception of the sounds of crackling ice, it was blissfully quiet. The only real activity came from the snowplows and scrapers that were trying to prep the high school parking lot for classes tomorrow.

With the cold temps, gray skies, blowing snow, and lack of signs of life, it felt oh so wintry.

I trotted past a yard with this ornate frozen birdhouse. It had lots of rooms and levels and the way the ice had frozen on it in crazy cool ways. Then I noticed that perched on one of the poles of the birdhouse was some sort of black bird - completely encased in an inch or so of ice. I thought I had to be seeing things, so I got a little closer, but much to my surprise, it appeared very real. It looked as if when the temps go up in a couple days, the ice will melt and the bird will thaw out and fly away. It was eery to see this bird perched there, like any other bird, but completely encased in frozen water. How does that happen?

The only other bi-ped I saw on my walk was an older woman holding a leash attached to an adorable yellow lab. I stopped and talked to her and played with the dog, whose name was Zooey. Zooey LOVED the snow and ice and bounded around like she didn't even know it was cold out. I got a pang of doggie envy. The woman commented that I was "brave" to be out running in this weather, and I pointed out to her that she was out in it too. She motioned towards the dog and said that she wasn't really out by choice. Sweet woman, great dog.