Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Me Away: The Caprock Races, & A White Horse Runs Free

The week following Canyonlands brought a pretty quick return to regular training, and I went right back to what I've been doing; shorter, hilly trail runs during the week, a longer trail run on the weekend, and Wednesday speed work at the track. I didn't have any races on my immediate agenda until several track groupsters mentioned the 5 and 10K races taking place at Caprock Academy, a local charter school. There are very few local 10K road races, and I missed the most recent one due to it being held the same day as the Moab RedHot. So, the night before the race, I put in a last minute registration for their 10K race.

Caprock would be an opportunity to race what was the most popular race distance in the country when my Dad was running and training in the 1980s, but less common these days, especially in more rural areas like mine. This would also be one of my last chances to attempt racing a time that would qualify me for one of the "A waves" at the Bolder Boulder. It's the second largest 10K in the nation (second to the Peachtree Road Race, also a 10K), but is a well-oiled machine with 92 smaller races, or waves, with the first 29 being seeded waves for runners, and requiring proof of time. I qualified for my one and only A wave (the AB wave, actually, or third wave overall) a year ago at Winter Sun, but did not run the Bolder Boulder in 2011. This year, I've run several times that would place me in the B wave, fourth overall, but really wanted to earn a bib with a letter "A" on it.

Arriving at Caprock to check in, it was already pretty warm, and somewhat breezy. Still, this is a relatively flat area near downtown, so I didn't think much about it. My oldest daughter Alexis was along today; something very cool since she used to race with me a few years ago before turning her interests fully to her passion of dance. She'd be supervising/babysitting Ray's daughter Emma during the race. Emma's one of those kids that all of us really enjoy being around, and she's a pretty easygoing kid, making it a nice family hang at the races.

After warming up, the 5 and 10K racers moved to separate start areas, and we got a good description of the course. It sounded like it had a lot of turns, so I hoped things would be decently marked, or that I'd be able to keep my eyes on someone ahead of me. Looking at the 5K starters, there were two extremely speedy ladies (young ladies..one high school-aged, another recent college graduate) who I would've needed my A+ game to beat. In the 10K, I really didn't recognize any of the women, which was rather unusual. I knew the guys that I predicted would be top-4 or -5, and lined up just behind them. I wasn't sure if there were any sleepers amongst the women, so just planned to run my race-relaxed but hard. The start came somewhat surprisingly with an "ok go," and off we went.

Right away, the guys I predicted to be ahead of me were indeed out in front, but there was some teenager who had shot out in front of them all. I'd never seen this kid before, and was really surprised. He seemed to be buying into his own pace, convinced he could run a full 10K this fast. Not a quarter mile in, I thought to myself "I wonder if I will get a chance to catch him later." Then, I settled back into my pace. I was running sixth, and first woman behind the front pack that included a group of the usual suspects. I felt a little icky warming up but was doing okay now. I somehow set my borrowed GPS to turn off the actual GPS, so I was only getting overall time; not pace or distance. This was all well and good. Since the track group formed, it's been a regular practice to learn to run on feel, and maintain a steady pace.

Turning left for the beginning of the 3 mile square we 10K-ers would take, I was running more or less solo. Rob from track group was way ahead. Paul was somewhere up there, and Marty had easily overtaken the high school kid, now already a small blip around the next corner in the distance. I couldn't hear anyone immediately behind me and just focused on a slight forward lean, high cadence, and not psyching myself out too much about the wind.

Making a turn, I could see that the high school kid was dropping back, and closer to me now. My competitive itch needed scratching now, but I was patient and didn't push up to a pace I could never sustain just to catch him early on. He was turning around repeatedly and looking over his shoulder. I made constant adjustments to my stride, making sure to shorten it up with a high rate of turnover. I was reeling him in slowly but steadily.

As I completed the square and ran toward Caprock Academy, I was now right on the heels of the high schooler. Passing the start/finish area, I saw the speedy 5K ladies fly through the finish, one after the other. Can't say if I'd have been able to stay with them for sure, but it was interesting to note that we likely would've been in a good 3-way horse race. Making my way up the road and on to the second half of the course, I had the high-schooler in the crosshairs. I was right behind him as we turned into the Spanish Trails subdivision of Grand Junction, catching him shortly after Alexis snapped this photo.




Moving through the neighborhood, this race was really beginning to feel a lot like the Bolder Boulder with all of the turns through a residential area. Okay-minus the massive crowds. The wind was picking up now, and I was working harder to keep up the same pace. I could hear someone behind me and I wondered if it was the high-schooler. No, it was another guy, and he moved slowly past. I was still running first woman and sixth overall with a slight change to the cast of characters ahead. Reaching a street where I could see who was was coming up behind, I noticed Andy, as well as one of the women. I had a decent cushion but by no means was this thing in the bag, nor was it a time to let up. I also didn't know if there were any other ladies close by. I picked it up some more and it didn't kill me. Leaving the neighborhood, I headed toward Canyonview Park. This popular community park hosts soccer, baseball, lacrosse, and running events, and it was a total mob scene today. The wind was beginning to whip about. This was going to be a very mental undertaking in the home stretch.

The course meandered through the streets and sidewalks along the edge of the park, and as it had been earlier in the race, course marshals stayed on top of sending us in the correct direction. Given that I expect things to be a little wonky in new racing events (especially when they're school or church deals rather than professional event companies), it was nice that I hadn't needed to scratch my head regarding which way to run. What I did have to scratch my head over was which way to move to avoid colliding with young kids and their families making their way to soccer and lacrosse games. There were several times when I shifted one way hoping to avoid a kid only to almost run right into the child when he or she shifted at the last minute. Dodge 'em added an additional degree of difficulty late in the race.

Luckily, it was about time to turn onto the single track dirt path/trail that cut across the sports fields. Or, should I say, "luckily." There weren't hordes of little kids blocking any wind now; just me, and a really nasty headwind. This was Canyonlands-highway-into-town caliber wind. This was a much shorter race, though, and shorter stretch of wind tunnel. I pushed hard to get across this stretch so I could make the turn that would give me a side wind. This wasn't much better, but I knew the finish was near. I circled out of the park and turned back down the road to Caprock.

Looking down at my watch, it was clear I wasn't going to make that 43:00 goal to get into the AB wave. This wasn't exactly soul crushing; I knew it would be a challenge but wanted to give it my best shot. I focused on getting to that finish line as fast as I could. I crossed in 44:35. This seemed a little better than I expected. As it turned out, most friends with functional GPS watches measured a short course. I did cross as first woman, and sixth overall. The high school boy wound up coming in about two minutes after me, so he'd faded hard after that initial charge into battle.

For my age group win, I received a gift card to a place called the Garden of Eatin'. Free food is always a win in my book. When they said "and now for overall winners," I got a little excited, thinking I had extra schwag coming my way. As it turned out, they only did overall for each race, rather than male and female overall, meaning that the two sponsored dudes got the goods. It was a slight bummer but no big whoop. The race was very well managed by the school, and the post-race included massage tables and ultra-like food (Twinkies! Ding-Dongs! Crap you crave when out for 30 or 40 miles!). All in all, an excellent job by the school in only their second year putting on the event. Add mile markers next time, and add women's overall awards, and this will be an A++ event.

Moving on to the big news story in running circles this week-the passing of Micah True, AKA Caballo Blanco (White Horse) one of the central figures in the bestselling book Born To Run by Christopher McDougall, was something on the minds of many who read the book. In true, many found someone with whom they could identify, or who inspired them to get out and see what happens when you go "too far." While one might see him as a flaky hippie/free spirit who was naive about undertaking the role of race director in a remote part of the world, hoping to bring together people who would normally never meet each other to enjoy their common love of running, his optimism and drive made this unlikely a scenario a reality.

Without getting into overly romantic and theatrical notions about "dying doing what he loved," there was something quite beautiful about how he left the earth, with feet in the stream, laying back, with half-full water bottle by his side. Nobody knows the cause of death yet, but with no obvious trauma or signs of injury, it may have just been his time to go. While I did not buy wholeheartedly into the barefoot running craze the book spawned, Born to Run did cause me to rethink what I thought I knew, and to stop placing limitations on myself based on things I didn't know. While I probably would have moved to ultra distance races eventually, being able to read about very real and human characters sure made it easier for me to say "hey, I could do that. I have to train and log the time on my feet, but I could do that." His altruistic motivation in putting on the Copper Canyon Ultramarathon as a way to help the people of the region is a great legacy to leave behind as a man who loved running free in the wild, and regarded as the one gringo Tarahumara.

It mind sound silly, jingoistic and naive in today's jaded society, but the quote that has been widely circulating truly says it best. This is why I love running, and why a girl who is much more competent running on roads finds such satisfaction in hitting the trails and the unknown. Run free, Caballo.

“I don't want anyone to do anything except come run, party, dance, eat and hang with us. Running isn't about making people buy stuff. Running should be free, man." — Micah True, as quoted in Born to Run

Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun: The 24 Hours Of Laramie Children With Hope 10K and Turkey Flats 15K Race Reports

Well, let's start from the very beginning. I hear it's a very good place to start.

My relay team for Laramie wound up falling apart pretty late in the week. It was clear that Nick would not be anywhere near healthy in time to race, between his doctor's assessment and how he was feeling. Sara scheduled her surgery to repair her torn meniscus on Friday, Julie's foot still hurt from a chronic injury of an undetermined nature, and that just left Jen and myself. I'd gone ahead hoping that Jen and I might still be going up as a team, but some time late Thursday the plug was officially pulled on any team running in Laramie. I thought seriously about going up as an individual runner-this would be my first ever DNS (did not start), and I hate to pay money for nothing. I had several people, though, essentially tell me "Do what you want, but that's gonna be a lot of time, work, and money to do it alone." After sleeping on it, I did decide that it was probably a good idea for me to let this one go. I was bummed. The Moab experience was great, and I think we'd all been looking forward to Laramie as a team before the Dirty Girls became The Sick and The Gimpy.

Once I got over the bummy frustration of pulling the plug on our 24 hour relay, I shifted into "Lemons to Lemonade" gear. Looking at the racing schedule, I realized that it was a very rare kind of weekend in Grand Junction, Colorado, for a runner. There was a Saturday race, the Children With Hope 5K and 10K, which is an event I've run each of the prior two times it has been held. It benefits a children's group home/orphanage in Eldoret, Kenya, the race directors are on the board of the organization, and have a running background so it's been a solid, well-directed event each time out. Then, on Sunday, there was a running club trail race up past Glade Park, approximately 15K, starting at about 8000 feet and climbing 1000 feet over the course of hte race. Best of all, this event featured my favorite four-letter "F" word...FREE. No tee shirts and no awards-just good times on the trails, wildflowers in bloom, cooler temperatures, hanging out with a small group of the usual suspects, and even some nice snackage and refreshments at the end. I decided that staying in town while my kids were camping with their father, having some rare time being able to hear myself think, doing a little bit of deep cleaning around the house and running a bunch would be a great plan B.

I didn't really crawl out of bed more than about twenty minutes before I needed to get out the door on Saturday for Children With Hope, and still wasn't sure until I got there whether I wanted to run the 5K or 10K. When I got to the start, though, I decided that running the 10K made the most sense. 5K races are a dime a dozen around here, I don't care much for them, and the 10K would be a good training race and workout for longer distance stuff. I said howdy to, and chatted it up with several friends prior to the race, and was pleased that even though it was hot, it seemed like things were going to start on time this year. Last year, it was the first time racing in this location, and they'd opted to start the two races in different spots. It was kind of a logistical nightmare from what I could tell. This year, though, they opted to start both races in the same place, but about ten minutes apart, and routed the courses through different neighborhoods in the same area. This was a nice change and improvement from one of the few things that didn't go quite perfectly the year before, in my opinion. It was also going to be chip-timed, another improvement that reduces the margin of error, especially with two distances being contested at the race.

I wasn't feeling terrific during my warm up, but just went into things like I always do in trying to stay relaxed without thinking too hard or getting down on myself for being a bit tired. This course is sort of a butt-kicker. It goes uphill for most of the first half of the race, and a little bit of the second half. By the time you're running downhill, the heat and effort from the first half can still leave a runner feeling drained and fighting to kick it in. Last year, I really didn't feel good in the last mile and just kind of held on rather than kicking it in. This year, if anything, I wanted to run strong and with consistency. Right around 7:50 a.m., I lined up with the other 10K folks, determined to give the best I had today.

From the get-go, my legs were feeling very un-springy, and I wasn't feeling awesome going uphill, but then again, that was a good sign that I was putting in the right effort. Feeling good in a 5K or 10K at any point means to me that I'm not working hard enough-it's short distance stuff, and if you're trying to be competitive, with yourself or others, it should hurt. My breathing wasn't awful in the heat-I have done some evening trail runs as of late, so it did seem that I'm beginning to acclimate to that after being kind of a baby in other years about avoiding anything over 80 degrees.

Mile 1: 7:50

Onward and upward. Boy, this uphill summer road running did not feel awesome. I forced myself to relax, though, and just tried to relax everything, from the shoulders and arms down to landing my feet in a way that allowed the ball of foot to totally relax, falling forward, and keeping that cadence up as I've been trying to do for some time while practicing POSE running. "Practice" would really be the right word, too. I'm picking it up but am by no means a master. Just being dilligent about it, though, and practicing every time I run or race, though, has resulted in good progress.

Mile 2: 7:50

Well, I still felt kinda crappy, but hadn't dropped off the pace any on the uphill. Not too bad, not too bad. After the early sorting-out of runners, and passing one woman in the first mile, I found myself running what appeared to be fourth woman overall, and I could see the third place female (an 18-year-old high school cross country runner) not far ahead. I wasn't making up any ground on her but kept her in my sight, trying to not lose any ground as we turned to the right into one of the residential neighborhoods. We curved through the streets, pitching slightly uphill most of the way. Man. I really did NOT feel good, and I wasn't halfway through.

Mile 3: 8:26

Oy. Feeling pretty icky. I knew the climbing was almost done, though, and kept pushing. That high schooler started pulling away little by little, and I wasn't able to hang or catch up.

Mile 4: 7:24

We had now looped through the neighborhood and would run back from whence we came. As I passed one of the aid stations, I grabbed some water from a course volunteer, and dumped it over myself to cool off. This was a good idea. I'd hydrately decently in the morning and didn't really need anything right now, and the water kept me from really feeling the heat. I was fighting a bit, though, to keep my head in this and push as hard as I needed to. I heard someone behind me, and pushed to fend them off but a woman who looked like she was surely in my age group, 30-39, slunk on past. CRAP. I wasn't going to go down without a fight, and pushed hard to not let her get too far ahead, and try to make up some ground.

Mile 5: 7:43

Now we were being rejoined by the 5K runners and walkers, and I was doing a lot of weaving in the final mile. Converging courses and dodging walkers three-astride from other distances is a frequent pet peeve amongst runners, but today it was a good distraction from the late race fatigue and pain. I just focused on the next person I needed to move around, keeping that woman who had passed me earlier in my sights, but just not catching up any on this downhill.

Mile 6: 7:18

Okay...now I'm almost there! Yahoo! I'd actually succeeded in a decent late-race surge in the last mile, and kept it up as I turned into the parking lot and toward the finish. I pushed my way in, and registered a pace of 6:42 and split of 1:02.2 for the last .15 Garmin-measured piece of road, finishing in a time of 47:33.

This wasn't close to my PR by any stretch, but this was a hot day on a hilly course that I think had a bit more to it in the hills department with the slight re-routing from the year before. I always want to do better than the previous outing, but was relatively pleased with how I'd hung in there and finished strong rather than fizzling out. I had indeed been passed by someone from my age group, and finished second in women 30-39, and was fifth woman overall, just like I thought. For the third time in three years, I won a lovely piece of art from Eldoret, Kenya, as my age group award. This time, it was a lovely bowl with elephants on the inside. I joke that I do this race for the awards, but that's really no joke. All the awards are quite beautiful and unique-not your typical medal. Several of my friends figured into the overall and age group award mix as well, which was awesome. It just kind of makes the race an even better experience when you get to cheer on your friends who worked hard and hustled out there.


Moving on to the second race of the weekend, I had been chatting back and forth with my friend Loralie, whom I'd met at one of the weekly running club trail runs several weeks back. We'd been talking about the Turkey Flats trail race, 9.6 miles in the Grand Mesa National Forest past Glade Park which is just off the Colorado National Monument. It would be at altitude, but this also meant it would be a welcome escape from the heat down in the city. It would also serve as a great early-season training race for the Imogene Pass run, which Loralie and I were both registered for, and looking to really do well at this year.

When it was clear that I'd be in town for the race, and not in Laramie, Loralie let me know that she was house-sitting up in Glade Park, just about 20 minutes from the race start, and kindly offered to let me come up and spend the night there before the race, thus shaving about half an hour to forty minutes off my travel time to the race. It's so nice and peaceful up there, and since I could bring my old chocolate lab Wilson with me, I gladly accepted that offer. Other than temporarily panicking when Wilson wandered off with the other dogs, and then couldn't quite find his way back at dusk, it was a mellow evening, and I got a great night of sleep. This was SO strange to have a whole weekend without the responsibility of caring for four children, or working, and I my body must've gotten that it was a good time to sack out and sleep hard.

In the morning, we chowed down, geared up, and headed out on a beautiful western Colorado morning. Loralie was going to try out my Nathan hydration vest, an item I'd purchased at the Boston Marathon expo that I have been testing out as a possible gear item for Imogene, and really liking. I just planned to hydrate well beforehand, and carry my Ultimate Direction handheld. We made sure the dogs were set in their dog run with water before leaving, and then drove over to the start at the Turkey Flats camping area and trailhead.

There we found Tom Ela, race director for all of the Grand Mesa Nordic Council ski races, and for this annual trail race. Tom's that guy you see all over the place. He runs, skis, does adventure races, even turning up in a photo on the Mesa Monument Striders Facebook page riding a mechanical bull at some recent event. He knows how to put on these lowkey, no-frills, high-quality events, and we chatted with him a little at the sign-in table before moving around to say howdy to others who were there to run (shout-out to Scott Jones, who mentioned that he reads my ramblings here sometimes, and got a little bit of Imogene information going into his first run there this fall. Glad that I can put my many mistakes at that race out there so that others do not make the same ones. And there are MANY mistakes from which to choose.)

Medium to long trail runs seem to attract a different variety of folks than your local road 5K. Looking around, we were definitely kind of an older, bigger and taller bunch. At 37, I think I was still one of the younger runners there. I recognized a good handful of folks, and quickly got to know the ones I hadn't met before. I also saw Shannon, one of my Dirty Girls teammates from Moab, who was up there with her friend and my former neighbor Kathaleen and her family. It was a little warm but felt pretty good at the start area, which was at about 8800 feet or so. The mosquitoes were out, but Loralie and I had coated ourselves pretty well with bug spray so they weren't biting too bad.

Tom had a good map posted, and the lollipop-shaped course, largely single track trail with a bit of dirt road, seemed like it would be pretty easy to follow. Tom gave us some quick course details, handed the timing device off to his brother, and then we crossed the road from the campground to the start at the Turkey Flats trailhead. We got a little countdown, and then about 28 of us got started on the course. There were already several other runners/hike-walkers who had opted for an early start, so roughly 32 of us were on the course.

I didn't have a ton of excess energy to burn from the start, and at first I was really feeling the altitude. The trail was absolutely beautiful, though-the wildflowers were in bloom, there was a lot of shade on the course, and there was none of the noise and bustle of modern life. This could be a really kick-ass, hard trail run if one wanted to be competitive on the course, and was also the ultimate in berry-picking, become-one-with-nature, zen run race. I was kind of balancing between the two, wanting to really work at running as much of it as possible with minimal hikes, but also taking everything in and not turning it into a joyless, hard run or pushing that ankle to what could be an easy re-injury on some of the roots, rocks, and slippery spots along the way. I let myself relax and didn't really worry about competing with others. I just wanted to run MY race and pace accordingly.

After the first mile of gradual uphill pitch, we started downhill toward a clearing, and I started to feel a little bit better. My lungs were adjusting a bit to the altitude, and my heart rate had come down and didn't feel like it was on the verge of redlining. I had briefly been in a short line of runners, but we thinned out soon after. I found myself running with a woman who was a little bit older than myself up ahead, and another guy who is frequently at around my pace in races just behind. One or two other runners moved on past early on, but this would essentially be my spot in the pack for most of the race.

The trail continued to meander through the trees, sometimes pitching upward for a bit, and flattening out at other points. It was a pretty steady climb, though, and soon I came off the trail and onto a bit of dirt road. This was great practice for Imogene, in my opinion, because of the two-thirds uphill, one-third kind of downhill course. I soon found myself running past a small lake, and got the smile/nod from several folks camping and fishing in the area. As I picked up single track trail again and headed uphill, thus began the mudbogging, log jumping and bushwacking portion of the race. Good times. This is what it was all about.

I did the best I could to keep moving in the old "zero gear" whenever possible, but sometimes it got so steep and slippery that I would momentarily revert to a hike. I say hike, and not power hike, because I tried to stay true to POSE running here, expending as little effort as possible, staying relaxed, keeping my gait short and cadence up. Though I was doing some hiking, I knew I'd already done a lot more running on a steep course than I would have likely done a year ago, so I felt more than okay about how I was doing today.

At what must have been somewhere around six or seven miles in, the trail kind of flattened out, but it was a true mud bog. After kind of trying to move around it, and bushwacking through the sides of the trail, I finally reached a point of saying "screw it....let's get REALLY dirty." (After all...if you ran on a relay team called the Dirty Girls, you should kind of live up to the name, right?) I sort of jumped right into the single track mud trail, but it was SO thick that it was almost pulling off my shoes. The mud and water was surprisingly cold, which definitely kept me alert, and kept me moving. I hurdled over several more logs, splashed around in the mud, and finally got to a point at which I was coming out of the woods and back to that clearing, completing the loop around the "lollipop," and ready to turn back down the "stick." I was pretty gooey and mushy feeling but wasn't fading, and kept plugging along. I wasn't really speedy on the downhill portions of trail, but most important to me was that I was running with good control. I wasn't braking or being tentative, but wasn't flying down the hills, totally out of control.

Somewhere in the final mile or so, Paul, the guy who had been running behind me, moved a bit ahead and was now just behind Sue, the woman who had been ahead of me most of the race. Rather than getting discouraged about moving back another spot, I just kept moving along, and tried to stay focused and dilligent with my POSE with as much of an increase in turnover as I could muster. That said, I was holding back just a little bit because of that ankle. I was so close to being finished, and didn't want to have a careless trip or fall that would put me out for any length of time. As I came back down the Turkey Flats trail I could see Tom's brother there with the timing device, and pushed in for a strong finish, crossing at roughly 1:50:52 by my watch for the 9.6 mile course. I wasn't the fastest person out there, but I was relatively consistent, ran much of the course, finished strong, and did not get hurt. All in a good day's trail run.

Next, I moved over to the finish area, and grabbed some Gatorade and watermelon. After proper rehydration, I grabbed a tasty malt beverage from the Beer Cooler Of Awesomeness, and checked out the results board. The first guy was through in about 1 hour 19 minutes, with Cynthia, one of the others who participated in the alcohol study last summer, coming in as the first woman and third overall at a hair under 1:21. Another gal, Kelly, who has a small sponsorship running for Aquafor, was the second lady, with Sue and I finishing about a minute apart as third and fourth woman. The remaining four ladies were just a few minutes back, finishing pretty much together with all regular starters completing the course solidly in under two hours.

We hung out for quite awhile after the race, and just enjoyed hanging out with the other runners away from the 95-degree temps down in town. This was a strong bunch of runners, but it was quite a different vibe from the road race the day before. While this wasn't all tiptoeing through the tulips, the vibe today was largely about pure enjoyment on the trail, and having a good race for yourself rather than getting into serious cutthroat competition. Not a bad way to end the weekend of racing. Today, there wound up being a very good article on the first page of the Daily Sentinel's sports section about the race, and given that running goes largely unnoticed in the mainstream press, it was a nice piece that summed up Turkey Flats, and why people run it quite well. I was especially amused by the fact that in the results, mine was nowhere to be found, yet a runner by the name of Jose Cuervo (whom I speculate is actually a guy named Doug who is a regular at the weekly club trail runs, and grooms the trails for the Nordic Council) had a finish time listed. It's all good, though-I was in this for training and the fun, not public acknowledgment of a 23rd place finish.

In the end, the Weekend Double was a great idea, and other than feeling pretty tired today, I'm no worse for the wear. It was a good weekend of trying new things, and the new things seemed to help me make good progress toward the goals I've got on the table for fall. I don't know when I may have the chance again to run two races locally in a weekend, but the experiment was successful enough that I will surely try it again if and when the opportunity presents itself.

All Signed Up For the Zen Run 10K!

I've been listening to Phedippidations/Steve Runner's podcasts on long runs and treadmill runs (well, I guess that would be pretty much ALL runs lately) and it's been great to have a virtual training partner during this marathon training cycle. I've been toying with the idea of registering for the Worldwide Festival of Races, which is a big virtual racing festival featuring choices of the Kick the Couch 5K, Zen Run 10K, and Worldwide Half Marathon. I have to do a time trial that day anyway since we have no official 10K races going on here in the Junction then. I figured that might actually give me more purpose and feeling of racing when it's really just going to be me out there. I'm excited....it's neat to be part of an enthusiastic group of runners all around the world who aren't running side by side, but running together with the same purpose somewhere on or around the weekend of October 11-12.

If you're a fellow runner, you can sign up here. Even if you're not a runner, you could still sign up for the 5K and give it a go with power walking or hiking it with a couple of run intervals thrown in there for fun. It's free, no pressure to perform, just something cool to do. Check it out here:



http://www.worldwidefestivalofraces.com/cgi-bin/home

I've got a day off today from running...just some lowkey core training type stuff to do later.