Friday night, I got back on the trail, and ran the Greenway for the first time in weeks. I’d taken two weeks off after Gasparilla with a terrible cold, and after my escapades in Chattanooga last weekend, I gave myself another week off to heal my blisters. I’d been itching to go run, and it was time.
Strapping on my Hoka’s, I headed off to the trail. I knew I wasn’t going for speed, this was just to clear my head, and comfort my soul. And run, I did. (And Yoda, I am, apparently.) It was glorious out there, and I pushed through, running most of my familiar 5K course, and only walking a bit.
But once again, the toe box on my right foot starting impacting my “Tulsa toe,” and I found myself finishing with some discomfort on my right foot, and a little post-blister party on the bottom of my left foot. To say I was unhappy is an understatement.
Yesterday, I trekked off to Fleet Feet to talk with them about new shoes. I’d had no issues whatsoever with blisters until I went to the Hoka’s, and I was beginning to believe they just didn’t fit my feet or style correctly. That’s a crying shame, as I really love the cushion they provide! I explained what had been going on since November’s trip to Tulsa, and the look on my shoe fitter’s face told me that I was likely guessing right. I had a shoe fit issue.
She brought out a couple of pairs of Nike Vomero’s, which is what I’d run in since I started this craziness four years ago, along with a pair of New Balance 1080’s. I ran a little in each, and came home with the New Balance shoes. We’ll see how those work over longer, real distances.
I mentioned that I needed to comfort my soul with a run. On Tuesday, cancer took another life close to me — this time, a wonderful co-worker, and guy just three months younger than me. Yesterday, Darla and I went to the visitation for him. I’m just sick over this, and it brings up all the “how’d I escape?” questions from the muck inside me. That’s an answer I’ll never know, but I know that I can run, and as long as I can run, I’ll continue to raise money for fighting cancer.
Last weekend, I returned to Chattanooga, planning to run the inaugural edition of the Classic 150 5k and the Chattanooga Half Marathon. Little did I know that my weekend was gonna have a sudden left turn.
Unfortunately, I’d been sick for the two weeks since Gasparilla. I think the snow-surf-snow escapades just before and just after the trip did me. It was head cold city, and no running before heading home to Choo Choo town.
Biscuit and Fried Green ‘Maters
I rolled into town on Friday, staying in the brand new Holiday Inn downtown. While this wasn’t adjacent t0 the race site — my usual M.O. — it was wonderful, and so very nice. I relaxed, and set about looking for some dinner. I looked at the map, and found a place called Maple Street Biscuits that was within walking distance. I strolled down for dinner, and had a scrumptious biscuit, filled with fried chicken breast meat, bacon, and slathered in maple syrup. On the side, I had fried green tomatoes, with housemade pepper jelly. Wow, was that ever great!!! I had a chat with one of the owners, talking about their coffee. They have a deal with Red Leaf Roasters, brining them several kinds of custom roasted coffee. I had the maple infused coffee, and fell in love, grabbing a sack to bring back to Da Lou.
Strolling around downtown, I was struck by just how much Da Noog has grown since I left it in the mid-90s. In those days, when the workday was over, the sidewalks rolled up, and the city was largely vacant until Monday morning. Now, it’s vibrant, with theaters, a huge cycling community, and the fastest internet to the house on the face of the earth. (Ok, maybe just North America.)
I got up early on Saturday, and drove down to Finley Stadium. Finley was also the site of the race in Chattanooga in February 2014, although in that race, we started and finished on the football field. Not so, this go around! Parking was at premium, but I was early enough to have no real issue.
Success!
I found some coffee, slurped it down, and got into the starting corral. Time always seems to inch forward in the corrals, but soon enough, the start came, and I started chugging down the road. The course was astonishingly flat given that this race was in Chattanooga, and with that flatness came some speed. I ran through the south side neighborhoods and business district, and pretty quickly found myself back at the finish. It was the fastest time I’d had since October, and I was thrilled.
There was a kids race shortly after the finish, and I hung around for a bit, waiting for that to start so I could head towards The Mountain on re-opened roads after the close of the day’s events. Mom ordered a pizza from Crust Pizza, and I played pizza delivery boy. It was the first time I’d had their pie, and it was uber-tasty. After a far-too-short visit on The Mountain, I headed back toward the hotel.
This was the first time I’d had my shoes off since the race, and I discovered that my blister area from Tampa was awfully aggravated, and I had a good-sized blood blister formed around the relatively new toenail that had sprouted from the black toenail event at Tulsa. Once again, my feet were failing me, and I began to wonder if I had a shoe problem with my new Hoka’s. And Sunday would be the half. Ugh.
Dinner was at Maple Street Biscuits again, where I had the Squawking Goat — a biscuit, with fried chicken breast meat, a fried goat cheese medallion, all slathered in pepper jelly. I wasn’t sure the jelly and cheese combination would work, but it was spectacular!
And the more I looked at my feet after I got back to my room, the more I questioned whether I should go out on the course Sunday for the half.
As it ends up, I elected not to risk it. Both feet were in some discomfort before even starting, and I was pretty sure if I did the half, I’d be off the trails for a while, nursing what would surely be further aggravated injuries. I called the front desk, made arrangements to check out, and hit the road. And to add insult to injury, I got to watch the start of the marathon races from my hotel window, and subsequently saw runners on-course as I drove out of town.
So, it was a disappointing weekend in some ways. I loved having the nice 5k finish, but I hated not even starting the half. I really wanna embrace the half marathon distance, and run those with some regularity. Until I get my shoe/foot situation squared away, that seems a long ways off.
Oh, and if you live in Cadiz KY, or were a worker or customer at the Marathon Gas Station on Sunday, I apologize. If you were there, you know why. Let’s just say there was a sack of Krystal’s involved. 🙂
This past weekend, I took a leisurely drive to Tampa — a little over a thousand miles from here — for the Gasparilla Distance Classic. This is a series of four races — 5K, 8K, 15K, half marathon — over the weekend, with several combinations of them bundled as challenges including the extra swag of a jacket and challenge medal. Very cool passel of stuff.
Wednesday
Anyone who’s read my ramblings knows that I love good food, and that Lambert’s Cafe is high on the list. Knowing that I was generally headed in a southerly direction, I lined up my travels to carry me through Sikeston MO, and a stop off at Lambert’s for dinner. If you’ve never been to Lambert’s, you should go. It’s a perfect blend of delicious home-style food, and some crazy sized portions. Select your meal, and while you wait, servers come around with “pass arounds” — fried okra, macaroni and tomatoes, black-eyed peas and fried taters and onions. With the exception of the okra, you have to have already been served your meal — those remaining pass arounds need a plate to land upon. For the okra, though, just rip off a paper towel from the roll at your table, and eat ’em with your fingers!
Lambert’s touts itself as the Home of Throwed Rolls, and they live up to that. Every few minutes, servers tour through the dining room, pushing carts of freshly made rolls. Raise your hand, and they’ll lob one at you, sometimes from over twenty feet away. I drop a little butter on my roll, and wait for the trailing server to come along with the sorghum molasses and apple butter. There’s truly no bread better than this.
For me, my loves are frog legs and hog jowls. Of the two Lambert’s I’ve visited (Sikeston MO and Springfield MO — there’s another location in Alabama), Sikeston is the only one with frog legs, so I usually get those. They’re Olympic swimming frogs too… The legs are huge! They’ve got a light batter on ’em, and really go down easy. Along with the legs, you get a couple of big sides. Through a delivery accident, I got cucumbers and onions, which I’d never tried before. Surprisingly, these were really tasty. The cukes sit in some kind of sweet liquid, so when they’re served, the onions don’t overpower them. I was really surprised!
After stuffing myself like a tick about to pop, I drove on to Paducah on the back roads of eastern Missouri and western Kentucky. It’s been a while since I’ve done that drive in the dark, and I was reminded just how driving down a quiet country road in the dark can be very refreshing. There’s little traffic on the two-lane between I-57 and Paducah — although a lot of speed zones as you cross through the little towns on the way — and that lack of traffic can make you feel like you’re the only person on the road. That’s kinda the way my races go!
In Paducah, I stopped at the Drury Suites. I kept thinking it looked familiar, and realized that this was the hotel we stopped at when we first brought Roxy to her new home. What’s funny is that some of the staff remembered us from that stay, and loved seeing photos of her at her seven-month size. That was cool, and made me feel right at home.
Thursday
I got up early, and headed down the road, planning to land in Macon GA for the night. I figured that would make for a short drive on Friday. And once again, I had gastrotourism on my list for the day.
I grew up in Chattanooga, home of Krystal’s restaurants. To folks north of the Mason-Dixon Line, Krystal’s are similar to White Castles, but with some differences. Krystal’s have a much less soggy bun, not having been swimming in the onion soup that Castles uses. They also lack the five holes in the meat, and have a dollup of mustard. I like ’em better, but that’s probably because those are the belly bombers I was raised around. Whenever I head into the South, Krystal’s are on my list, and this morning was no exception. I crossed into Tennessee, and stopped at the first Krystal I found, in Clarksville. With a sack of breakfast bombers riding shotgun, I headed on down the road.
Nashville seems to be in a state of perpetual construction, and it’s rare that I get through there without some kind of delay. There was a little bit of a slowdown, but not as bad as I’ve seen in the past. I got through town, and saw signs pointing me down I-24 toward Chattanooga.
I spent most of my childhood in and around Chattanooga, and for most of my adult life, I’ve pulled off at Exit 155 to go visit The Mountain. This trip, I pulled off there, but only for gas, driving on into downtown Chattanooga. I don’t usually get this view of my former home, and it’s impressive to me how much it’s grown. I’ve moved away from Chattanooga twice — once in the 80s and once in the 90s — and now I look at the town, realizing it’s turned into an amazing Southern city, while still retaining its small town charm.
Just before I crossed in Georgia, I picked up I-75, my fourth interstate, and the only major one I’d need until I got to Tampa. North Georgia is some really beautiful country, with just the right mix of hills and valleys for me. You also start to notice changes in the trees, with denser groves of forests lining the road. It’s really a nice place, but there’s an element of NASCAR speedway to I-75 as you head toward Atlanta, passing through the carpet capital of the universe. Southward I continued.
Growing up in Chattanooga, you always heard about things in Atlanta, and it seemed like folks in Chattaboogie always looked south to Atlanta for what they should be doing. Part of that was The Varsity restaurant, and the next stop on the gastrotourism express. This is a hamburger joint that is steeped in antiquity, and serves up some awesome food. The only one for a long time was in north Atlanta, but their success has allowed them to spread out. I stopped at the one in Kennesaw, and had a tremendous burger, onion rings and an ice cold soda. I was lucky at hit this one at an “in between meals” time, so there wasn’t a crush, and was able to just kick back and enjoy the experience. It’d been decades since I’d had a meal at The Varsity; hopefully, my next one won’t be so long down the road.
I got to Macon, and stopped at a Sleep Inn. There were a lot of choices, but I really didn’t need anything incredible, just a roof, bed, and TV. And against that criteria, I had the best room on the planet. In reality, it wasn’t quite as great as all that, but it did what I needed for one night, and gave me great access to food for dinner. Stop number four on the gastro tour was Zaxby’s.
We don’t have Zaxby’s in Da Lou, and I’d never eaten there until our stop at one near Memphis on our drive to New Orleans last year. They have very good fast food, and certainly know their way around a chicken. I had a small dinner of some kind of honey-sweet boneless wings, and toddled back to the room for the night.
Friday
In the morning, I once again set my sights on a little gastro fun. Next door to the hotel was a Waffle House. I love Waffle House’s hash browns, and knew that I had to have some this morning, along with diner-style bottomless coffee. I was the only person in there, and was really taken care of by the staffers. One of ’em kept the jukebox fired up with soft jazz, which was a perfect start to my morning. I wrapped up my breakfast, and pointed the Lil’ Red Rubicon south once again.
I really enjoyed watching the transition in the landscape as I drove toward Tampa. The land flattens out, and trees change, with a gradual change to pines and palms the further south I went. It was a beautiful transformation, and one you’d never see from the air. This was the first time I’d been to Florida — the state of my birth — since my “I just kicked cancer’s ass” vacation in late 2012. It was so awesome to crack the windows, and smell the change in the air as the salt air started to filter in.
Daytona is a figure eight?
I stopped at a rest area just across the Georgia/Florida border, and got my free cup of orange juice. Tasty! This was the same weekend as the Daytona 500, so the rest area I stopped at had a small display commemorating the race. I think someone entirely unfamiliar with the race set this up!
I cruised into Tampa around lunchtime, and began meandering toward Harbour Island and my stay at the Westin.
(BTW, for folks in the Tampa area, just how many bears are involved for you to use TWO S’s for Bearss Road?)
Have I been here before?
I hit the hotel around 12:30, and knew I was early for check-in. I reached the counter, and was told there were no rooms available yet, and that I was 25th in line for a room. I expected that, so I left my bags with the front desk, and walked over to Convention Center to pickup my race materials.
I was really impressed with the packet pickup. The last big race I attended — the Route 66 in Tulsa — had really long lines, and it seemed to take forever to get my stuff. The Gasparilla folks had this ironed out, and I had my goodies in no time. They had a pretty good sized health expo, and although there was nothing I really needed, I think you could’ve picked up anything you might have needed for the weekend’s races.
I’m famous!
On one wall, the race committee had hung up a huge banner, with the names of all the pre-registered racers. It became sport to try to find your name, and take a photo of it. This banner was about thirty feet long, with really small print, and while it took a while to find me, I did, and shot a photo for posterity.
I walked back to the hotel, figuring I was probably getting closer to having my room ready. Alas, that wasn’t the case. And I waited. And waited. And waited. And I wasn’t alone. Finally, around 2:30, I asked what my status was. I was 2nd from the top — woot! And I waited some more. One of the staff walked by around 4pm, and was surprised that I was still waiting. He went to check on my room, came back, and told me the cleaning staff were prioritizing the cleaning of rooms with more than one bed. He apologized profusely, and promised to get it sorted out. Fifteen minutes later, he had a room key for me — along with two lackluster drink coupons for the bar — and told me I was getting one of the best rooms in the building. Cool!
View from my room
I went up to the room — along with two other groups whose rooms had finally been made ready. There was a sign on the wall bragging about this being a Starwood Preferred Customer floor, and I expected great things. I walked in, and frankly, was a little underwhelmed. It was just a room. Admittedly, it had a great view over the bay, but the room itself was just a room, and no where near the quality I was expecting. There was a note in the room indicating that there were big renovations taking place, and to “pardon their mess.” It was usable, but certainly not what I thought the best room in the place would look like. Guess I should’ve been happy it wasn’t one of the average rooms!!!
There was a group from Moon Joggers that were planning to meet up at the races, and I’d made arrangements to have dinner with one of them over at the Sheraton. I had a great time, and enjoyed some tasty seafood — one of the things on my list being in Florida. It was a great way to unwind, knowing the I had my long race ahead of me in the morning.
Saturday
I typically don’t sleep all that well before a big race, and this race was no different. With an early start, I got myself ready, and aimed to get to the 15K start line early, which is my typical M.O. I got in the elevator, and already in the car was US Olympian Meb Keflezighi! He’s got a great story, and is an inspirational figure in racing. And frankly, he was a nice guy. It was cool to share the only part of any possible traveling where he and I would be neck-and-neck. 🙂
After crossing the bridge from Harbour Island, I made my way closer to the starting corrals, knowing I needed to get toward the back. To say folks were packed in like sardines was an understatement. I finally made it to the back of the pack, where the crush of runners let up. I stretched out in the darkness, and waited for the start of the race. It was hard to hear, and I gently heard the Star Spangled Banner being sung, and I stopped, doffed my cap, and sang along quietly. I know it’s hard to hear, but I’m always surprised at these big events when folks continue chatting and carrying on during our national anthem. It bugs me a little, but I do my part, and pay the respect I feel our nation is due.
The start line!
I heard the signal to start the race, and five minutes later, I crossed the start line, hitting the course in a throng of turtles, just back of the 15:30 pacer. I really had it in my heart to keep up with them through as much of the race as I could. That lasted about fifteen minutes. 🙂
In truth, I knew I couldn’t pace myself to keep up with the pacers, so I just ran my race. At times I ran, at times I walked. Looking at my splits, I was actually pretty consistent right around 10min/km for the first 10k. That’s a good pace for me. However, after the beautiful sunrise over the bay, the temperature climbed. I really don’t do heat very well, so that was taking a toll. And I could feel a blister forming on the bottom of my left foot. As much as anything, this slowed me to a crawl, and my splits began to get worse and worse.
When I only had a few kilometers to go, I noticed the 5k racers had kicked off, and were coming down the outbound leg on the race course. The last kilometer was truly tough, but I finished it like a boss, and ran across the finish line like I owned it. And I finished just before the folks from the 5k were finishing. I didn’t get passed by the winners of the second race of the morning! 🙂
I grabbed my medal, and hobbled through the runner recovery area, gathered up fruit and yogurt, heading back toward the hotel. I was beaten up, but I was successful, and pleased with the fact that I had gutted out a race in more heat than I cared for, and with a blister that was impacting my walking significantly.
Thinking back on the race now, I was impressed with the number of water stops along the way. This probably kept me in the race, and I made sure to drink a couple of partially filled cups of water at each stop. Learning from Tulsa, I did grab a little Gatorade at one stop, but that didn’t hit me as well as I had hoped. It kinda just sat in my stomach. Blecch.
I was beginning to try to figure out what to do for lunch, and had made some plans to potentially hook up with some friends that had moved from Da Lou a couple of years ago. We made a plan, I took a shower, and hobbled downstairs in my Ugg houseshoes. I’ve discovered those are crazy good recovery shoes, and I’m not shy about wearing them out and about. Clyde and Shauna, along with Shauna’s father, Jimmy, picked me up, and we headed to Ybor City.
More legs for speed!
Ybor was a very cool place, steeped in the old world. Our target was the Columbia Restaurant. After a lengthy wait, we were seated, and prepared to embark on a multi-hour meal. We had their famous 1905 salad, prepared at the table, and a big ol’ pitcher of Sangria, also prepared at the table. I had some paella, stuffed with loads of great seafood — scallops, crab, calamari rings and bodies, and some dense fish. It was amazing! And it wouldn’t be a trip to Florida without some key lime pie, which was a stellar example of a great pie! After a lonely finish at the race, and faced with the prospect of sitting in my hotel room by myself, this trip out with familiar faces was just what I needed.
Sunday
The next day brought the next race of the Cactus Lime Challenge — an 8k race. Now, having done the 15k, I was pretty optimistic, but I knew I had two things working against me. This race started at 9:30am, so the heat was already starting to climb. And, I still had that stupid blister.
I’d discovered, reading the race booklet from the health expo, that the 8k folks had to be off the streets by 11am. Now, I know that I could finish up on the sidewalk, but I really don’t like feeling the pressure of the clock on my runs. I was bound and determined to finish ahead of 11am, and not be swept off the course.
I bandaged the blister, trying to insulate it from any rubbing that might aggravate it, and after dressing, made my way downstairs. This race started in a different location than the 15k, and after some wending around, I finally found the starting corral area. The half marathon had started early in the morning, and the fastest finishers were already hanging around, sporting their medals, with more coming across the finish line.
While I waited, a lady named Bobbie walked up and started chatting with me. Apparently, she’d be been behind me in the 15k on Saturday, keeping pace with me. It was nice to talk shop with someone before the race, and kinda keep my brain off the race at hand.
Another start line!
We formed up, and the race started. I ran ahead, and thought I was gonna have a pretty good race. My blister was tame, and there were some spotty clouds. This was playing into my hands. However, the clouds disapated, the temperature rose to about 75°, and I started to wither. And after about 5km, my blister started to let me know it was gonna make life miserable.
For the second time in two days, I was hobbled for the last quarter of the race. Just like the day before, though, I gutted it out, ran across the finish line like I owned it, and got both the medal for the 8k, and for the Lime Cactus Challenge. And to top it off, I’d beaten the sweepers, finishing around 11:05am.
I pulled out my 15k medal — I took it with me for photos — and started clangy-clanging through the finish area. I had my photo taken with some pirates, and worked my way toward the recovery area. Columbia Restaurant was catering the post race meal, but the lines were long, and I was done, so it was back to hotel for me.
Once again, I was facing a question of what to do for lunch. I had a chat with the front desk staff, and they suggested having New York New York Pizzeria bringing me some food. I dialed ’em up, ordering a small meaty pizza, garlic knots and some hot garlic wings. The pizza was good, but I have to really scream about the wings. That hot garlic sauce was amazing! I think they started with a hot buffalo-style sauce, and added loads of diced garlic to it. Some of the chunks were enormous, and I really think there was almost an entire head of garlic in there. So very tasty! I got into the garlic knots, which were also tasty, and noticing the extra wing sauce in the container, I started using the knots to sop up the wing sauce. That was the most brilliant idea I’ve had in a long time! Needless to say, I was a happy camper, and was able to relax before beginning my big drive home on Monday.
Monday
I awoke ahead of my alarm, and figured I’d go ahead and hit the road. I’d packed up the night before, and was ready to go, so inside fifteen minutes, I was in the lobby, checking out, and heading toward the Jeep.
Tampa was quiet in the pre-sunrise morning. Getting ahead of their rush hour put me in great position to keep ahead of the rush hours to come on this long driving day. As with the beginning of the trip, I found a Krystal in north Florida, and got me a little breakfast. Yum!
I was also on a quest for a little citrus to bring home. I found a stand atop an exit off I-75, and picked up a sack of oranges and grapefruit. They also had some local honey, and given my love of the stuff, I picked up a couple of squeeze bottles to carry along with me.
Truthfully, the drive Monday was pretty uneventful. I hit rain in southern Georgia, which followed me all the way to central Tennessee. I drove through Atlanta around lunchtime, and scooted through with no issues. Chattanooga came and went shortly thereafter. I’d intended to stop somewhere in central Tennessee, but I was having a great drive, and it looked I could get through Nashville just before their rush hour. I got to the I-24/I-65 split right at 4pm, and after waiting to get through the construction traffic there, I zoomed on my way.
Finally, I decided to stop in Paducah. That’s only about three hours from home, but I was tired, having driven 700+ miles already, and knew I wanted to have some dinner somewhere. I checked into the same Drury Suites that I stayed in on the front end of the trip. I didn’t realize they had a dinner buffet included with the room, so I was able to get a quick, filling dinner before heading to my room and crashing for the night.
Tuesday
My last morning on the road started with me awakening before the alarm again, and getting myself on the road quickly. The drive from Paducah to Da Lou is short, and it goes by pretty quickly. It seemed like I only blinked, and I could see the Gateway Arch in the distance, welcoming me home after a long trip, and two successful races.
Epilogue
It’s a week down the road from the Gasparilla races, and I’ve had time to think about the race, and to ponder what’s next.
My snowy booty!
Knowing that I have a big weekend in Chattanooga coming up, I’d intended to keep up the longer miles. Unfortunately, I’ve been down with a cold ever since I got home. I ran in the snow on the Monday before the hot Tampa races, and the day after I returned, we had six inches of snow. That back-and-forth weather rollercoaster has left my head all tangled up, and mired my running shoes in the closet. I’m hoping that I can get back on the road for at least a few miles before I head to Chattanooga on Friday.
Someone asked if I would do the Gasparilla races again, and I really believe I would. There was an incredible amount of support during the race, and really good logistics. I love the pirate theme, and the fun medals. The course is crazy flat, and if I were ever to be fast, this would be a fast race for me. It’s a long way to go for a race, but there’s plenty of challenge with the race, and lots of opportunity for me to grow into it. If only they could solve that heat problem!!!
The inaugural Chattanooga Half Marathon is coming up next weekend, along with a 5K event to kick off the weekend. I have no worries about the 5k, but I truly don’t know what to expect on the half. I’m finding that my experience with the two 15k races and one half I’ve run have shown that I can complete the event, albeit with a slow time. The first 10k seems to go pretty well, but my performance falls off quickly around that point. I have no idea what next weekend will hold, but I’d love to exceed my expectations, and finish the half in better time, and better condition, than I did at Tulsa in November. In reality, it is what it is, and I have to keep my wits about me, and race neither the clock, nor myself, and just enjoy the experience!
Last night, I set out to get another race in the books. The snow from Sunday had begun to melt rapidly in the warmer temperatures. Frankly, it was kinda nasty out there, with big snow mounds where the plows piled it up at the sidewalk intersections — making it really hard to cross safely — and halfway melted stuff on the sidewalk, making it slick.
Fun times!
I really enjoyed this time out though. It’s so much faster without the snow, and was a wonderful time to just clear my head after work. And still, I’m struck by the thought that in just a few days, I’ll be running in Tampa in much warmer weather!
Da Lou got another small dose of snow today — the third in the last week. And like the last two, it was beautiful. A couple of inches of snow, 20° or so, WCI of 15°, and not a soul out on the sidewalks and trails in the neighborhood.
I love getting out in this kind of weather. It’s tough to walk in, so it’s a good workout, but at a leisurely, safe pace. And all the while, sleet fell, striking my face as I grooved to some 1970s disco. (Yeah, a little guilty pleasure, but the beat is really good for stomping around in the snow!)
At Christmastime, the Pathetic Running Group had a Secret Santa event, in which my Secret Santa sent me some WinterTrax. I’ve had a set of YakTrax for a while, but decided to give my gifted snow footies a shot today. I’ve gotta say, they were much easier to get on my shoes, and seemed very capable in the snow and ice. Two thumbs up!
It struck me while cavorting in the snow that in less than a week, I’ll be racing in Tampa — and at temps that are 40-50° warmer than what I churned through today. Wednesday, I leave for Tampa, with plans to compete in the Gasparilla Lime Challenge 15k/8k combo. I can’t wait to see how I do at those distances in the warmth of the Floridian west coast.
Yesterday, we had a continuation of our surprise snow — maybe just over an inch. It was beautiful, and still falling water work, so I knew I had to go out in it for a nice walk.
I strapped my YakTrax on my shoes, bundled up, and headed out into the falling snow. I’m still very pleased with how well the YakTrax work to keep me scooting along without slipping. As I was walking along on the fresh snow, I kept thinking to my self that these were like have “chains” on my shoes… and the footprints I was leaving behind certainly looked like it!
Wren Trail
I made a point to travel down Wren Trail. It was really, really pristine, with just hints that someone and their pet had gone down the trail hours before me. Of course, Wren is only about ¾ km each way, so I ambled around the neighborhood to get my full distance in. Much like last week, I explored some roads and neighborhoods that I’d never visited before. We’re really blessed to have a ton of sidewalks along the main roads, as well as the neighborhood roads, so I felt really safe wandering around without having to worry about the traffic too much.
And then it happened… I fell.
Virgin Snow
I have no idea what I did, although I suspect I couldn’t see a dip or rise in the sidewalk with all the snow, and just misstepped. I went down quick, but turned it into a wicked cool roll, which kept me from hurting anything. I’m sure the folks driving past were concerned, but I bounced right up, tried to control my embarrassment, and headed toward my finish.
In all, this was a great time out. It was quiet, cold (but not windy!), and just a great time to reflect on the beauty of the space around me. I’m ready for more!
For folks that either regularly follow me on Canapeel, or who have endured the cross-postings on either Facebook or Twitter, you’ve probably been wondering where all the race details have gone? Well, they haven’t gone away, and proof of that is right here! 🙂
I’ve mentioned before that I’m taking on the inaugural St. Louis Triathlon in May. It’s made up of a 750m swim (in Creve Coeur Lake), a 20km bike ride, and a 5km run. The great thing about the ride and run is that they are gonna be on very flat courses. Now, I know I have the run down — easy peasey. I still don’t have a place to really practice the swim, but I found a place to practice my cycling.
I’ve been going down to Route 66 State Park on the weekends to ride. The park is dead flat, and has some paved paths, as well as gravel trails. It’s wonderful to ride on, and isn’t too terribly crowded. I’ve been able to work on some speed there, and my goal is to start “practicing” both the ride and run very soon.
This park has a really ugly history. There used to be a town here — Times Beach — which was a little community right on the Meramac River. It was poisoned with dioxin in the 1970s, and was the largest civilian exposure to that chemical. I was largely oblivious to the story of TImes Beach (since I grew up 500 miles from here, and was a child when this was happening), and reading the story now, it’s fascinating.
Nowadays, the area is safe to be in, and is a wonderful place to go ride and run. It’s a great practice route for my upcoming triathlon, too!
So, that explains the apparent absence from my running exploits. Last Friday, however, I returned to the roads, and got a simple walk under my feet. With the sunset getting later and later, there’s finally enough time after work to get a run or walk in before dark. It was chilly Friday night — about 40° — but with the sun shining as it set, it was warm enough to get some miles behind me.
I explored parts of our neighborhood that I’ve never been in — mostly cul de sacs — and racked up the distance pretty quickly, without exposing myself to traffic on the “big roads” around us. A few kilometers into the course, I decided to walk to the neighborhood bike shop, Trailhead Bicycles, to get some cycling gloves. I have some old gloves from many years ago, but they’re heavy, and frankly have an awful stank that likely will never be removed. So, I returned to the site of my Kona purchase, and found some terrific padded, lightweight gloves that I think’ll do the trick.
By the time I got close to home, the sun had set, and darkness was descending. It was a great time of night to be out and about, and I get to put another medal on the shelf. Woot!
Last night, it was time to get my Trekker geek on the road.
The Moon Joggers posted this race last year as they were building out their 2016 schedule. Once I saw the medal, I knew I had to run this race. I’ve been a Star Trek fan for most of my life, reading the books, watching the episodes and films, and collecting a raft of knickknacks over the years. The medal for this race is just the latest part of that lifelong pursuit. (Obsession? 🙂 )
After Sunday’s run on the snowy Wildwood Greenway, I returned to the Greenway today after work to put some miles on my Hoka’s. It was windy, and about 15° warmer than Sunday, which meant the snow was largely gone. The pretty, quiet trail had returned to being a noisy trail, next to a busy road at rush hour. That’s one of the biggest reasons I run with headphones. Running is my “me” time, and hearing the cars and trucks go by is simply intrusive, so I jam. In this run, I jammed, and enjoyed a nice run, despite being out during one of the busiest times of the day.
I’ve tried a couple of runs on the Greenway this winter after my workday was done. Unfortunately, those haven’t gone well, with finishes in very dark conditions, and having to do too much scrambling to get the miles I wanted under some kind of lighting. Last night, I had almost perfect timing. I rolled out about 45 minutes ahead of sunset, and rolled back up to the Jeep a few minutes after sunset. Despite the clouds, there was still enough light to finish, and that bodes well for more runs after work!
Today, somewhere in Oklahoma, a race was held to honor an Oklahoma State Trooper who lost his life in the line of duty almost a year ago. This has been a labor of love by his mother, and is laying the foundation for the establishment of a scholarship fund in his honor. When I heard about this last year, I knew I had to run this virtual race.
Originally, I’d planned to run 7.31 miles, which is the distance chosen for the race — Tooper Dees badge number was 731. However, the snow on the Wildwood Greenway made for a tough slog, so I ended up only completed 6km. Still, I was happy to have helped honor a life ended too early, and in a senseless accident that was likely preventable.
I loved going out in the snow today, and I definitely learned that I need more practice in the snow before I’ll have any kind of speed in those conditions. It was clear, and snowy, and icy, depending on where I was on the trail… And it was beautiful.
With new snow having fallen — a dusting or so of dry snow — I thought I’d go out yesterday and enjoy a walk, taking care of an errand on my way, and then scooting home.
Little did I realize how awful the conditions were!
I left the house bundled up, knowing that it was very cold outside. Generally, my torso stayed warm, but the farther I got into my walk, the colder my legs got (I was wearing jeans), and the colder my hands got. I was wearing some new running gloves I’d picked up around Christmas, and they just were cutting it in the biting cold and slight wind. I suspect I’ll need to think about some better gloves for these really cold days, as well as layering a bit more on my legs!
However, what I didn’t expect was for the course to be so slick. That light snow was actually the best traction I had! There were places where the radiant heat from the sun melted the snow, with ice forming during the cloudy times. But the worst was on Wren Trail.
I’d mentioned a week or so ago that the city had done some renovations on the trail, smoothing it out, and turning it into a really nice surface. However, there was a thin coat of mud left on the trail from the work. That hadn’t been a big deal… until you put a little snow and re-frozen ice on it. That little bit of mud turned into a slick-as-snot surface that was awful to walk on. I ended up walking on the newly planted grass next to the trail, because that was a more gripping surface.
After getting my errand completed, I started toward home, and was getting colder and colder. The wind chill index was down to about 3°, and the closer I got to home, the more I realized I was fighting an uphill battle to stay outdoors. I clocked just about 3.5km, and threw in the towel.
However, in the spirit of trying to make this race as close to 5k as I could, I rode a little over three miles on my stationary bike, which translates to about another mile, giving me the overall distance I was looking for. This was a clunky, clunky way of doing things, and if I hadn’t been so cold, I wouldn’t have even thought of doing it this way. Obviously, Mother Nature had other ideas for my miles yesterday!
Friday night, I got back on the trail, and ran the Greenway for the first time in weeks. I’d taken two weeks off after Gasparilla with a terrible cold, and after my escapades in Chattanooga last weekend, I gave myself another week off to heal my blisters. I’d been itching to go run, and it was time.
Last weekend, I returned to Chattanooga, planning to run the inaugural edition of the Classic 150 5k and the Chattanooga Half Marathon. Little did I know that my weekend was gonna have a sudden left turn.
Buckle up, kids. This is gonna get long.
