Running For Beer, Episode III: Return of the Fat Tire

Yes, I am finally concluding the running for beer saga. Just in time to head off to Ouray for the Imogene Pass Run-but I won't jump ahead of myself.

When we last left off, I had finished all preliminary meetings and testing. It was time for the nitty-gritty: a big "Weekend O Running." I actually had a moment or three of wondering what I'd gotten myself in to. There were some seriously talented locals in there. The other women were very strong mountain runners and it was hard not to compare. I had to just shove all those thoughts aside, though, and show up on Friday night for the first depletion run.

Now, we're casual in this neck of the woods. I did not expect humorless, antisocial researchers in lab coats with stethoscopes, but when I walked back into the human performance lab I was instantly at ease. Again, the researchers were walking around with smiles on their faces, and I saw one step behind the privacy curtain that was around the fridge in the lab (just like what you'd see in a doctor's office). You know, to protect the identity of the beer being poured in the unmarked cup for the folks who had already finished their runs.

The guys and gals who had run already were on the back patio of the lab, where a camp stove was set up to cook spaghetti. Just inside the big windows and double doors to the patio was a table with salad made from fresh stuff from the garden of the head researcher, some bread, and beverages. His dog was hanging out in the lab, as was Oskar, the dog owned by the writer of the piece. (You can see the back of Oskar's head, and the writer standing off in the distance, in the September Runner's World on page 90.) The photographer was walking around and taking candids, as well as photos of runners on the treadmills. It was hard to stay bunged up and nervous in this environment. They were ready for me pretty quickly, and they told me I would start on the treadmill that I dubbed the "Big Green Monster," and then would move over to the smaller treadmill where they could get some photos of me. All I can say is WOW...that thing is BIG. I think it is bigger than most city apartments. I got to do this run without that dang breathing mask contraption on my head, so this was good.

After a little while, they moved me over to the little treadmill, and the RW photog got lovely shots of me in all my sweaty glory. All told, I ran for about 45-50 minutes. Next would be food and beer, but I had to stand in front of a backdrop for more goodtime sweaty photos. Oh yeah. "Please look off into the distance while you stand there pouring sweat." Okay, he didn't exactly say that-but that's how it went down. A handy lab assistant brought me the first of my 2.5 beers. I started to eat and drink and was told I needed to come over around the corner for another quick shot where I basically sat on a box, drank my beer ("Act like you're really enjoying it!" I was told-my, now this is a real stretch for me. Let me bust out my acting chops.) and stared off at the Colorado National Monument across the valley. This was certainly an awesome way to spend a Friday night.

I went back to finish my food, and the beers kept coming. I couldn't pinpoint what I was getting and didn't think deeply over it then. Everyone was chatting on the back steps of the lab, eating and drinking and enjoying one another's company like any regular barbeque. As I neared the end of my last beer, I called my husband to come over to pick me up. The next day would bring the really scary stuff-the first run to exhaustion, followed by another evening depletion run.

When I showed up in the morning, I was a little intimidated this time. I saw one of the guys finishing up his run, and getting to that point of exhaustion. Let me just say that people running like that with a huge thing strapped to the head with tubes and machines kind of look like scary cyborgs-not your friendly neighborhood runner. For this test, they covered up the pace and time on the treadmill so I would also have no point of reference for how long I would be running. Geez..this would be totally blind running. At different points in the test, my lab assistant would hold up a "pain scale" printed on a clipboard. Unlike your standard hospital/doctor office pain scale that goes from 1-10, this one started at 6 and went to 20. I would need to point at the number that best indicated my level of exertion when he asked. Again, it was back to the humiliation of make-you-drool mouthpiece attached to oxygen mask/head gear, and the oh-so-sexy noseplug. I'm glad I am not unusually obsessive about appearance because nobody looks good with this getup. They counted me down and off I went at my pace at which I hit 80% of my VO2MAx in the original test.

I was surprised at how not bad I felt at first. Things were uncomfortable but they were really okay for quite awhile. When they started to go downhill, though, they started going downhill fast. All I could think was that they see a range of 25 minutes minimum to typically a 55 minute maximum on the test. All I could think was "I SUCK...this hasn't been 25 minutes! Stay on! Stay on!" I was getting lots of positive whoops and hollers and "looking good" and I kept pushing on. Finally, I cried uncle and jumped to the side rails when I felt myself slumping and feeling like I was ready to fall off. Turns out I'd been on for 28 minutes. Not their minimum of minimums but pretty close. I felt like a lightweight but it is what it is. They told me that my heart rate had stayed pretty high for a long time, so I felt like slightly less of a loser. Our local guy who is just this amazing oddity when it comes to running everything well-all surfaces, all distances-had totally broken the other end of the curve with a one hour, twenty minute run to exhaustion. I was in awe of that kind of greatness-he has not been running for much longer than me, and from my limited greetings at various races, I've found him to be very cool to fellow runners. I'm looking forward to reading about his numbers when all is said and done.

We had a table full of bagels, juice, and fresh peaches from the head researcher's orchard. Yum. I didn't even know breakfast would be included in the deal. All I could think, though, was "I have to be back here for another run tonight! How am I gonna do that?"

One of the other runners had his young daughter at the lab in the morning, and I'd mentioned offhand that I bet my son would dig all the stuff going on, expecting they'd cringe at that. They'd said "bring him!" so I brought the 6-year-old along to check things out. At first, he was sticking closely to me, barely looking at anyone else, but they coaxed him over to start the big treadmill for one of the other runners. Awesomeness. He was enjoying the dogs in the lab too, and when I started running I could see that he thought that all the equipment in the lab was pretty cool. I told him he could walk around and look at things but he wanted to wait until I finished to check things out.

As for the run itself, I'd been worried at how hard it would be after the morning run. What happened, though, is that the hard workout kind of loosened things up. Running at a more middle of the road pace without the mask felt surprisingly comfortable, and soon I was back on the patio, drinking beer, and eating pasta and salad. My son looooves pasta more than anything, and is hip to the salad and bread, so to him this was a pretty sweet adult gig. We also poked around the lab and I got photos of him by various pieces of equipment. My husband showed up again and took us home after the evening run/eat/drink session.

In the morning, I got up for the very last run. I'd held up well thus far but I have to say that my legs felt TIRED. Mentally, though-it was the strongest I'd felt. Just kind of "whatever...let's just pile on one more run. Legs are numb already." This morning, I brought my middle daughter-the eight-year-old-along for the action. She is a hoot-my daughter promised to yell "Suck it up, buttercup!" at me if I wanted to give up too soon.






Performance pressure much? They hooked me up to the mask of doom one last time and it was time to go again. I was surprised that I didn't feel markedly worse today after all the running. I kept going....and going....and going.....but then that screaming body/dead legs thing set in. My daughter did apparently yell "suck it up buttercup" at one point but I didn't hear her over the whir of the treadmill and with the mask on my face. When I finally cried uncle, it turned out that I'd spent 33 minutes on the treadmill. A full five minutes longer than the night before, and after a full weekend of running.

After poking around the lab with my daughter and getting all the obligatory photos (plus a random shot when she said "Mom! Take a picture of me doing the splits in the lab!"),




I tried out some inflatable leg compression thingies and chowed down on peaches and bagels. Think blood pressure test sleeve, but for your entire leg. OUCH. Maybe they work to circulate the blood but they got so tight it hurt.


While I was sitting there, the one detail of the study that hadn't been mentioned but seemed to have been an obvious way to measure things was revealed. Yes-we got "beer" both nights. It's just that it was non-alcoholic beer on one of the nights.

HA....yes. Now it all made sense. I had to know. Which night was my beer night? It turns out that the alcoholic beer was New Belgium Brewing's Fat Tire, which was the same thing we had on the beer calibration night when we blew on the breathalyzer. The nonalcoholic beer was O'Doul's Amber. It was a random mix each night of real beer and near bear drinkers. As it turns out....drumroll please......I'd been served the near beer on Friday night, and ran 28 minutes the next morning. On Saturday, I had real Fat Tire. On Sunday-yep, five additional minutes.

Familiarity with the testing procedures? Sure-that could explain the longer run. Fear of my kid laughing me out of the room? Maybe. I still have to say that I was stoked to find out that I'd done better after the real stuff, and after the full weekend of running to boot. I may just be an experiment of one, but this is pretty much what I suspected. While getting drunk and tying one on is clearly a bad idea, not anything I support or advocate, and destined to produce bad running results, I've always thought if a runner enjoys moderate amounts of alcohol and doesn't notice negative effects-why give it up? Wouldn't it be more negative for that individual to suddenly break from routine?

I said I wouldn't bring up Imogene, but it's the best example I can think of with regard to the beer study. I was SO nervous before this race the first time two years ago. I could have eaten a light dinner, skipped my favorite beer, and returned to my room to toss and turn restlessly in bed. Instead, several of us enjoyed a nice, slow-paced dinner, had a few beers and enjoyed some really pleasant dinner conversation. All the positive components of the meal (food, drink, friends) got me in a great mindset where the edge was off, and I felt a little better and less terrified of the morning's race. Then I was more willing to go soak in our hotel's outdoor hot springs hot tub instead of rushing off to bed, and once we did turn in I slept like a log, ready for my best shot at the mountain in the morning. I know everyone has their own routine but I think that sticking to my routine was a good move.

Going back to the study, the most thought-provoking discovery from the initial results came along gender lines. While only one of the men did slightly better on the run to exhaustion following real beer night, each of us ladies did dramatically better after our moderate alcohol consumption than on the fake alcohol consumption night. They were planning to test some more women to see if we were just freaks of nature (the sample group was pretty small, after all), but I found this pretty fascinating.

I also got my personalized results a week ago. I'd already been told during the study that it was clear from my initial numbers that I had good endurance but could make considerable improvement with more speed work (ouch, but right on the money). There were some suggestions in there for including speedwork, and where the heart rate or intensity should fall. It's something I just need to do...so now that fall is upon us and it's not blazing anymore, I'm going to get back to that Tuesday track night.

Then there were the nitty-gritty results. The cold hard numbers. The coldest and hardest to me was that body fat percentage. Yeah, I know it's part hereditary, and I have grown and fed four kids. That does leave a little bit of a mark with extra fat stores. Still, I was a little depressed that when it was stated that most female runners fall in the 12-24% body fat range, I came in at 23.5%. When it came to other numbers, I had a VO2Max of 44.2 mL/kg/min. This is a measure of how much oxygen can be consumed for every kilogram of your weight every minute. It's largely genetic (I will never be Lance Armstrong or Matt Carpenter), but 20% can be trained to higher levels. My VO2Max is nothing special for a runner, but it's cool to know that I can work at it and bring it up some.

My anaerobic threshold (ventilatory threshold) was 73%, which is a heart rate of 164 BPM for me. This percentage represents the point where lactate formed during aerobic/anaerobic exercise is equal to removal, and therefore where people are taxing their aerobic systems to their max. This goes back to where I need more work, and regular interval sessions was something suggested to improve aerobic performance (I get it, I get it). It's something I know but when you hear someone else tell you who knows what he is talking about-yeah, pay attention to what he has to say.

So, that wraps up my time as a lab rat. It was a thoroughly enjoyable opportunity, even when it was uncomfortable or painful. I am not sure when the article will publish but do know it will not be until a 2011 issue of the magazine. A lot of what is printed is planned out well in advance, and things are sometimes pushed back for a variety of reasons. This is okay-I'm a little frightened at the possibility of any of those sweaty, drooly shots seeing the light of day. Until then, I am going to keep running long, running hard, and enjoying a cold frosty one when the mood strikes.

Running For Beer, Episode II: The Treadmill Strikes Back

After a few crazy weeks around these parts, I'm back with more tales from the human performance lab. When we last left off, I'd attended a meeting, filled out paperwork, drank some beer and read about what I was going to do. I left excited and nervous about being one of a small handful of people doing the testing, and with a bit of a complex when I realized I was the average chick among some really awesome runners in the room. I put that out of my mind and figured I wouldn't think hard about it, and would just show up for each day's activities without worry.

A few days later, I returned to the lab for my very first VO2Max test. First, though, I had to sit in that egg-shaped thing called the "Bod Pod." Let me tell you guys-I was less than excited about this. Nothing like getting down to a swimsuit or tight fitting yoga-type clothes in front of a room full of dude researchers in the lab. Let me be clear...NOBODY was making me feel weird or giving me the judgmental eye. This was all my own doing. It was like going back to junior high again and being insecure with your body. Luckily, this test did not take very long. I climbed in, the door was shut, and I sat inside it, keeping my body as still as I could. This test can take up to five minutes, but the lead researcher let me know after about thirty seconds that it had done its thing one time already, and after it reset and did it again, I was finished. Phew. I spent no more than about two minutes total in there, and ran off to change for the VO2Max test.

Up next would be the beginning of the real guinea pig action. There was a small treadmill set up in the middle of the lab (bummer, I wasn't going to get to run on the "green monster"-photos to come). In order to properly measure the gases coming out of my mouth, I would have to run with this helmet thing with a mouthpiece attached. It had a soft rubber mouthpiece to gently bite down upon-think going to the dentist. The mouthpiece attaches to a tube that runs back to their fancy computer. So, yes, this means that test subjects run with mouths wide open. This would be awkward enough, but to add insult to injury, the nose must be plugged as well. The first time they hooked me up to all this, it was very disorienting. I'm sort of a clumsy treadmill runner but the one thing that has always made it possible for me is being able to "spot" the console on the front of the treadmill. That is, if I just focus on it while I run, I don't get off-balance or shift too far to one side, forward, or backward. This just took away all point of reference to where I was on the machine.

I also do not normally run with a heart rate monitor, but this was another important part of the test. I had more crap attached to me and more people watching me than when my son was born by emergency c-section. Very strange for someone who is used to being a solitary runner much of the time, and with as little as possible to get through the run.

Once everything was properly fitted, the treadmill started. One of the researchers immediately commented "she's nervous" because my heart rate was apparently through the roof at first. The head guy in charge commented that he knew it would come down-other first-timers in the study also had the same thing happen-and sure enough, he commented that it had settled down a minute or two later. They gradually upped the pace until it reached 8 miles per hour, or a 7:30 pace mile. This felt all right, but I knew that soon the incline would be increased every few minutes until I cried mommy. The first increase wasn't too bad, but the whole helmet face thing was quite distracting. I felt like I was drooling out of the corner of my mouth. Yeah, sexy. I could see that there was a VO2Max reading on the screen but couldn't quite read what it said.

When we moved to 4%, I was REALLY starting to hurt. I felt pretty pathetic for being ready to give up already. I knew one of the other women had made it to 8%, and I really wanted to get there too. I pushed on, and the research team was being nothing but enthusiastic and encouraging. The incline was upped to 6%, and I was ready to throw in the towel. The guys were going apey offering encouragement, saying "looking good" and all that but I knew better.

Finally I was sagging and sliding back to the point that I finally did my rescue jump to stand on the side rails, feeling exhausted and a bit like I wasn't up-to-par for what they needed in this test. I was told that it was a gutsy test because I'd actually hit my VO2Max awhile before, and to keep going at all beyond that point was awesome. I am not sure if it was true and it didn't exactly make me feel better, but I didn't have much else to give. I knew one thing, though-I was happy to have that mouthpiece out and the nose plug gone. With that, day one of research was on the books. I was due back in the lab later in the week for my first depletion run and (woohoo) beer and pasta dinner.

Running For Beer-Part One

I never thought that being a not-so-young, not-so-old, slightly higher-than-average mileage, sometime-beer-drinker would get me anywhere out of the ordinary in life. A few weeks ago, though, I got that very special e-mail that changed my life. Oh, okay. It didn't really change my life, but it did present a very interesting opportunity that would allow me to find out a few things about my own fitness, and give scientists a chance to see what effect, if any, moderate alcohol consumption has on training and performance in distance runners.

Among weekly group run schedules and race announcements, one special item caught my eye in our running club's weekly email. Beer drinking runners, 30+ miles a week, ages 25-44 were needed. Free beer and food would be served. We would go through a battery of tests that would normally run a pretty penny, but for study subjects, they would be free of charge. Are you kidding me? Where do I sign up? I filled out the short questionnaire and received word pretty quickly that I would be included in this study. About ten days ago, I showed up for my first meeting with the other test subjects and researchers. I recognized a few faces in the room but there were others there as well, and everyone was very excited to be doing this "research."

We filled out paperwork and consent forms, and were served an amount of beer that had been calculated by our weight and gender to bring us up to just under .08 BAC, the legal limit in my state. I was served 2.5 beers of what I believe to be Fat Tire, a favorite from my home state. All the while, I thought to myself "This is a first-drinking beer in a lecture hall desk on a college campus." I kept waiting for the cops to show up and break up the party....and then, there they were, smiling in the lab doorway. Two campus police officers in plain clothes appeared, and came into the room with the breathlyzer kit to see if the researchers had nailed our blood alcohol content.

As we went around the room, it seemed that they had gotten things right for most people. One guy who had just eaten a gigantic burrito before showing up only blew .034 after his four beers. I stood up for my turn, and they watched excitedly as my numbers climbed up.....up.....up.....and then stopped at .072. Yep, I do it Price Is Right style-the closest without going over. I was actually pleased with this. My cupboards had been practically bare at this point in the week and I'd snacked as much as I could so I would not have an empty stomach, but it wasn't quite as much as I normally would have eaten at this point in the early evening. One of the researchers kept hollering "you're goin' to the pokey!" with each person's turn on the breathalyzer, and it cracked me up. I thought these guys were going to be serious lab coat folk. Another guy must've had a particularly empty stomach, or his weight had fluctuated, because he blew a .09 on the four beers they had calculated for him. Whoops. Just 3.5 beers for future testing, sir.

The police officers actually enlightened us on several things having to do with traffic stops for suspected drunk driving, one of which was the fact that your eye will do an involuntary twitch when you are impaired. This is why they always do that field sobriety test in which the subject is asked to follow the officer's finger with their eyes. This came into play when another one of the women who was actually part of a post race food and drink gathering I was part of last winter was overserved on her beer. She was supposed to get only 1.5 beers and was leaning back looking VERY relaxed in her seat after 2.5 beers. I thought it seemed off that a girl several inches shorter and clearly a good 20 lbs or more lighter would get the same number of beers as me-and it was. She asked them to field check her, and I had to get up to watch. She was focusing like mad, intent on outsmarting the test-then I saw the eye twitch. Yep, you're going to the pokey! (BIG DISCLAIMER....under no conditions were any of us allowed to drive at all following testing that included any alcohol consumption. And it goes without saying that this wasn't about heavy alcohol consumption that obviously messes with performance, training,a nd health and general. Even if you blew barely over zero, none of us was anywhere near a car.) Whoops.

While we drank our beers for calibration purposes, I went through my study information in more detail. The next visit would be a VO2Max test on a treadmill, complete with oxygen mask and nose plugs. For most of us, this would involve increasing our speed up to 8.0 mph, and then an increase in incline by 2% every few minutes until we gave up and cried mommy. From this test they could determine not just our VO2Max, but the pace and incline we were running when we reached 80% of that VO2Max. The 80% mark would be very important for future test runs.

About a week later, we would return for a carb depletion run in the evening. This run would last 45-50 minutes and would be at more of a moderately hard pace-not piece of cake but nothing that would suck the life out of us either. No oxygen masks or nose plusgs-just a nice little run. This would be followed by our designated amount of beer, plus pasta, salad, and bread. The next morning, we would return for a run in full lab rat regalia...oxygen mask, nose plugs, heart rate monitor. We would then go at that 80% VO2Max pace until we could not run anymore. Now, this pace does not necessarily come 80% of the way through your VO2Max run. It could be right before hitting that 7:30 pace, maybe some other time. Then we'd come back again that night, do the depletion run (yep...another run the same night after wearing ourselves out), drink, eat, get up in the morning and do it again. At some point during the testing, we'd also get in this thing that looked like an egg with a window, or maybe a spaceship. It was called the Bod Pod, and it measures body composition.

When all was said and done, they'd have some interesting data to analyze, and each of us would be given a packet of valuable training information with details about our VO2Max, heart rate, body fat/lean muscle mass, and a variety of other information that the researchers could deduce from our testing as far as what we could use most in our training and where our weak spots lie. This was stuff I'd always wanted to know, and I was stoked to say the least that I was getting to sit in this lab for the testing. As I called my husband and waited for my ride home after the orientation/beer calibration meeting, I felt both excited and very nervous about beginning this experience as a beer drinking, running lab rat.

A Prehistoric 5K

We could go with the alternate title of "I Suck At Cherrypicking Races," but somehow that's even less catchy than the actual title. Rather than making blogger excuses regarding posting frequency, or that the race I am writing about was almost two weeks ago, let's just dive straight into the race report for the annual race at the dinosaur museum.

This event has taken place for many years, but numbers have dwindled in recent years. It's been different distances and has been held at different locations, but last year marked what I believe is the first time that both a 5K and a 10K were offered. I did the 10K last year with lackluster energy, marking my fifth race in six weeks, and finished second in the small women's field, getting pretty well pummeled by a collegiate runner who was unable to accept the non-advertised $100 prize. Meanwhile, the women's winning time in the 5K last year (also a $100 prize for that race) was well over two minutes slower than the slowest 5K I've run in the past three years. Sure, my legs could have been whapped off by a passing car on the hilly course, but barring that kind of calamity I should have easily been able to run faster that day. Though I wasn't out to pick a distance based solely on my chances, I did kick myself a bit for doing the 10K.

This year, there was no doubt in my mind that I would do the 5K. The main reason was that both courses were very hilly and tough, and I would still be working pretty hard in the shorter race. I thought the 10K would be a bit too much for me to handle just two weeks after my summer marathon. I half-seriously joked, though, that I was cherrypicking for the shorter race. We have a lot of expenses around this time of year with school starting soon, and it's really nice to be able to offset race registration fees whenever possible. I showed up at 6:30 a.m. on a very warm summer morning, registered there (this is a new trend...NOT planning things out and making gameday decisions on races), and did the usual hang with the usual suspects. I noticed that among the usual suspects was the woman who is two age groups older than me and who also routinely thrashes the field.

In the past, I may have been disheartened by this, because she's a couple of notches above me as a runner with a great finish kick to boot. The best I've done in the past is staying ahead of her for a mile in a 5K before she passed me, along with the other five women ahead to win the entire race. She's that good-her first mile is just for warming up and faking you out before the burn. This time, though, I thought-screw it. I had some cool new lightweight shoes that just feel like buttah (tried them on at the Boston expo, resisted the unconscionably high price for a long time, found a coupon that made them merely shamefully expensive, and got a pair). I didn't feel dreadful in the warmup, and the new shoes gave me a pick-me-up I'd never felt when trying to go fast. I just said "Screw it...when she kicks it up I'm gonna try to stick with her. Even if it really hurts." This is total fantasyland-think-I think my "closest" finish to her has been by about a minute, but hey, you've to take some risks to start making a little progress.

Lining up with everyone else, I thought "oh boy-I paid money to run a Personal Worst-worthy course!" Oh, and this was my second black tee shirt in as many July races. Really? Do other runners really like being as hot as possible in the hottest month of the year? But I digress.

We got our countdown and headed off down the road, which started out flat but then began to climb. Speedy 50-something was already ahead of me, but this was one of the first times that I was more or less right behind her at the start. This was good. Some very excited high-schooler struck up a conversation with her and she made small talk for a bit. Yeah, honey, wear her out with conversation! I checked my pace-it was brisk for this course but I was feeling strong today so I kept at it. At about three quarters of a mile, I actually witnessed the moment when she looked at her watch and kicked it up a notch. Now there was a ten or fifteen second gap between us, but I kicked it up too and kept it from widening further. I was energized that this wasn't a first round knock out yet. Mile 1: 7:04

The second mile runs down the main drag in a subdivision with some huge hills. This is a double-edged sword-they sure do slow you down compared to a flat road, but after a summer of twice-a-week hilly trail runs, I've had decent practice at running steadily uphill and carrying that momentum into the downhill with good turnover and a short stride. The speedy lady inched a little more ahead, but still wasn't on fire the way I've seen her. "Struggle" is certainly not the right word, but on the relative scale of how smooth she normally looks, she was working harder than I'd ever seen. I did my keep on keepin' on thing and ran like I had a chance even though I knew the gap was even bigger now. When we reached the turnaround I could see that I also had a little company. There was another high school girl who was close enough to overtake me if I let up, or if she could have a strong finishing kick. Mile 2: 7:49

That felt like a reasonable slowdown for those big hills as we doubled back for the big finish. There were two good hill climbs, and then a bit of a reprieve with the gradual downhill and flattening out to the finish. Somewhere around 2.25 miles, I got my last look at the competition ahead as she kicked it up another notch. I pushed hard to pick it up but my maximum output was just slower than hers. She went over one of the hills and by the time I crested it, she was long out of sight. This was MY race, though, and I focused on pushing ahead hard and keeping some distance from the third lady.

I hit the peak of the last hill, and passed this boy that I know to be the same age as my oldest daughter. They were in swim lessons together about eight years ago, and have done some of the same youth track meets in the past. Let's just say that when this kid mockingly said "He has TERRIBLE form" about my then 4-year-old son at one of those meets (just before we found out that he needed orthotics and some PT because of weak muscle tone and a severe inward roll at the ankle)-well, I needed to pass this little turd. So I passed him. And this made him think "this lady who older than my mom just passed me." So he kept trying to push past me and finally got a bit ahead with about three tenths of a mile left to go. Crap. Mile 3: 7:12. I kicked it toward that finish line with a time of 1:34 for what my Garmin measured as .21 miles (so, maybe a little long) and finished in a slow 23:39.

This was not a personal worst, but it was the second slowest 5K I've run since the first one without a kid to pace back in late 2007. On those hills, though, I'll take it. Even though that second mile was obviously going to be the slowest one for everyone, I have a history of big positive splits on the third mile. Rebounding in the third mile was a bit of a baby step forward toward better 5K racing. That high school girl wound up being a mere five seconds behind me, so if I'd allowed myself to be lame-o for even a second, I would have been back another spot. I did win my age group (Yay! A nifty dino trinket...seriously, I do like the plaques and medals they give at this event) but the overall win and the dough went to the Masters speedster. Oh, and the kicker....yeah, you guessed it. I picked the wrong race for big money with the winning time in the other race being several minutes off what I ran the year before. Ah well. Reminds me of a conversation in The Big Lebowski:




{insert awkward segueway here}

Speaking of bars-hey, remember that study where somebody gives me beer to drink, food to eat, and then has me do all kinds of lab rat tests? I'm in the middle of it-only we're not drinking at a bowling alley bar. More on drinking and running very soon.

And A Big Flat Road Runs Through It: The 2010 Missoula Marathon

I did not start 2010 with intentions of making a twelve hour drive to Montana, nor did I stay up late at night dreaming of the chance to run a marathon in the crisp, cool month of July. Once these plans were made, I even had second thoughts and wondered what business I had running a full marathon on what was essentially training consisting of marathon recovery from Boston followed by a bit of base-building, short buildup, and strange hodge-podge two week taper. Sometimes the best experiences, though, come from plans made on the fly, which was the case with our family's trip to Missoula for a long weekend together.

In the weeks leading up to our trip, I was wondering if I'd be in way over my head in this race, and was considering what to do if the weather was terrible. Caught between not wanting to give myself a free pass to make this a fluff training run "race" and also not wanting to wind up pushing to the point of sickness, ER visits or painfully long race recovery if it was very hot, I decided that this was going to be one of those useful experiment races. My tendency is to start aggressively and fight to hang on, but this seemed like a great time to play around and see what might happen if I went with a purposely conservative marathon start. I also wanted to treat the race as something I was doing over the course of the weekend with my family-not "the family's coming to Montana to watch me run a race."

With that in mind, we loaded up the family truckster bound for a hotel that boasted an indoor water park among its features. While two waterslides might be a stretch when it comes to calling something a "water park," they were two AWESOME waterslides, with a three story climb to the top. The kids scoped it out two seconds after our arrival and I have to say we were all pretty excited at the prospect of playing there. More on this water park later.

We hit up the expo early on Saturday, and also got the three younger kids registered for the "Kids Marathon," which was actually a 1.2 mile race. Don't start groaning about labeling a 1.2 mile race a marathon just yet, though. For the schoolkids in Missoula who were registered, this was to be the final 1.2 miles to complete their "marathon" after logging a total of 25 miles in training. Kind of a fun concept, and I liked the idea that it's not just about the race, and that the process of getting ready for the big day is just as important and fun. Right away, we were impressed with the "I don't know the answer to your question, but I will find out for you right now" helpfulness of race volunteers. It takes a LOT to put on a good race and everyone was working hard to make it happen, and work the problems when they came up.

After tooling around for awhile it was time for the kids to do their thing. This was not without drama as my son tried to use his head as a battering ram during the race warmup, accidentally getting thrown headlong into a bench in the stampede of kids who were supposed to be jogging, but instead seemed to be racing down to one lightpost before turning back to the warmup area. My middle daughter frantically trotted him over to me, and oh wow...he had a GIANT goose egg coming out from his head. A race volunteer found me a bag of ice and even though I knew what his response would be, I said "I think it might be a good idea to sit out for the race and ice your bump." That lower lip pout immediately came out and he dropped the ice bag. He was totally with it, no dilated pupils or signs of a serious injury, so I told him to go ahead, line up, and be careful not to get trampled.

All three kids lined up, ran the course, and seemed to have a blast. My husband ran with our not-quite-4-year-old, and he said that she had actually turned to him at one point as she trotted along, saying "Daddy, this is FUN!" I cracked up, though, because her bib was almost bigger than her.

We went back to the hotel after the kids race, and boy did we have a blast on the water slides. One was an open slide, but the other one was an enclosed tube that sort of freaked me out the first time I slid into the pitch black, feeling claustrophobic and wanting to be back out in the open. I swore I wouldn't go down that one again but didn't want to be a big chicken in front of the kids, so I did go back and actually tried to turn it into a calming pre-race activity by just closing my eyes and enjoying the total silence for those fifteen or so seconds.

Not wanting to wear out my legs, I eventually stopped sliding and watched the kids and husband from the hot tub. All in all, this day-before race strategy seemed like it was going to yield that desired result of tired kids who would crash into a deep sleep, and leave me loose and ready to go. After a dinner with a handful of RWOL forumites at Carino's we headed back to the room for an early bedtime with my painfully early 3:50 a.m. wake-up call beckoning.

I had stressful thoughts in the days before the race over the possibility of a bad night's sleep, or the ultimate racemare of sleeping through alarms and missing the start, but this was not to be. After all the water play I did get one of those quality nights of sleep where I may not have been out for eight hours, but still found that very deep sleep that allowed me to wake up alertly at 3:30 a.m., feeling that punchy race day energy where you're ready to get moving.

I got dressed quickly, gave the husband a quick kiss and snuck out to get a van ride to the start. We thought the whole family might have to wake up to get me the few miles down the road, but perk #2 at this place was that they were offering special shuttles outside their normal hours of operation for runners. As it turns out, I was the only person ready to go at 4:10 a.m., so I basically had my own personal car to get to the parking garage in downtown Missoula. My driver guy was playing the radio and I found myself singing along to Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" as we pulled into town.

When we arrived at the garage, I easily found the line of marathon buses, with the half buses just around the corner, and chatted with a friendly seatmate for our ride to Frenchtown. As it turned out she seemed to be one of those "hybrid" runners like me, living in a mountain area and hitting up both roads and trails. She had also run Boston, had a husband who has run the Imogene Pass Run, and had recently relocated to Missoula. It really helped kill any potential for the bad kind of nerves to be on this bus with a bunch of folks who all seemed to be like me-excited to be running in a beautiful setting in a race that they felt compelled to do after reading positive reviews.

When we got off the bus in Frenchtown, I though WOW, it feels warm out here this early. I watched the marathon walkers get going at 5 a.m., and as I wandered around and kept the legs loose I realized I was starting to feel a little chilly. I figured out it wasn't just me when the starting line announcer said the temps had actually dipped a bit in the past hour from a little over 60 to about 53. PERFECT! Maybe the weather wasn't going to suck after all. I took my pre-race S-Caps packet, chowed down on some sports beans and started to get my game face on. It was almost time for the big show.

I've never run with a pacer before, but decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to follow the 3:40 guy. He said he was going to run even splits and this would all work with my plan today to avoid being Captain Aggressive. The next pacer up was 3:30, I had nothing to indicate this was likely today, and it might give me something on which to focus if the going got rough. I chatted behind the pacer with a lady about my age from Texas who like me already had a BQ with nothing major at stake other than just wanting to do her best out there at some race in Montana that sounded like a fun summer getaway (noticing a theme yet?). Soon it was time to get going. Several of us in my immediate vicinity said good luck and have a good race to each other, and then I was OFF...my fifth marathon was now underway.

Right from the get-go, the pacer kind of launched ahead and I was stuck in what was a surprisingly tight crowd for the first mile or two. I knew the marathon had doubled the number of entries from the year before, and it seemed as if almost all of them were running in the front of the midpack, where I was. I finally just tried to relax for the time being and keep the guy in my sights. Still a long way to go, so I didn't want to waste lots of energy on side-to-side weaving. I was feeling not great...almost bad. Yet another reason to stick to the conservative pacing/even splitting goal.

Mile 1: 8:30

Mile 2: 8:21

Mile 3: 8:13

Ew. I just felt really icky. For the first time ever in a marathon, I found myself thinking "oh man...I have another 23 miles to go!" I nipped that thought right in the bud before that mentality could take over and basically shut the brain off, running and not thinking of anything. At almost four miles in, I passed the last of the marathon walkers, a young woman on crutches using just one leg. As myself and another runner passed her we said "hi" and "looking good." We passed a few remarks between one another after passing her about how that pretty much destroys anything in the excuses department to see someone out there who didn't have much to work with today but was still out there with what she had. I considered my attitude adjusted and went on with things. I got a little ahead of the pacer, and instantly felt a bit more relaxed to not be smashed in with all the people following the guy.

Mile 4: 8:21

Mile 5: 8:18

Mile 6: 8:15

Mile 7: 8:22

The first ten miles or so of the course is just about as flat as a pancake as it meanders through the wide open spaces dotted by small homes and farms, with Missoula off in the distance. Normally, I like relative silence and the few- and far-between fans at this point, but just feeling a little bit off at this point I actually could have used some good cheer. The pace group wound up easing past me again but I could still see them, and runners had strung out enough that I was no longer shoulder to shoulder with other runners. I tried to shake out the arms, stay loose, and do anything I could to find the rhythm I needed.

Mile 8: 8:12

Hey, that "Doubters Can Suck It" sign next to the wig-wearing cowbell guy was pretty funny. I cracked a smile and was sort of enjoying myself for the first time.

Mile 9: 8:18

Mile 10: 8:23

Ten miles in! Woohoo! This was a small victory. I was through the section where the road just kind of went on forever, and had a chunk of the race behind me. I think the first sprinkler on the edge of a homeowner's property appeared somewhere in this stretch of the race. I'd been told that the sprinklers would be all over in the final miles but this was a very pleasant surprise. I ran right through the sprinkler, and said thanks to the woman out in the yard who returned my words with a smile.

I can't be certain, but I also think that my first "Chuck Norris Facts" sign sighting occurred around this point in the race. For those who are not familiar, this is one of those bizarre pop culture phenomenons where people have come up with "facts"-AKA, ridiculous and sometimes funny lies about the magical powers of Chuck Norris. I'm not a fan of Chuck Norris the guy but the facts are a different story. I chuckled and moved along in better spirits.

Now we were starting to go gently uphill, though not doing anything that would constitute a true hill climb.

Mile 11: 8:22

Mile 12: 8:34

Mile 13: 8:29

I was now running along Big Flat Road, which weaved upward through the trees, providing welcome shade and some nice scenery. Though I wasn't gaining speed at all, I was feeling stronger than I did at the beginning of the race. Soon I made my way up the one really significant hill. It was steep but relatively short-nothing that would have a person quivering in their boots. Upon cresting the hill, I saw a man in a cowboy hat riding his horse next to the road, looking at the marathoners running by, and got an amazing panoramic view down across Missoula and the surrounding areas. This was my Montana moment, for sure. It was pure awesomeness.

Mile 14: 9:19 (the hill mile)

Okay, I was feeling pretty upbeat now. I was feeling a normal amount of tiredness for this stage of the race but was thankfully NOT feeling like the wheels coming off was imminent. More Chuck Norris signs. I laughed out loud at "Chuck Norris Once Visited The Virgin Islands. They Are Now Called The Islands."

Mile 15: 8:33
Mile 16: 8:15
Mile 17: 8:33
Mle 18: 8:32
Mile 19: 8:42

We were moving toward more populated areas now, and the sprinklers along the road along with folks hanging out in yards to cheer for, feed, and entertain the runners were becoming a more common sight now. It was warming up but there were opportunities here and there to run in the shade. Twenty miles came and went with another feeling of triumph.

Mile 20: 8:41

Physically I was getting to that point where I knew it would be hard work for the last 10K, but I was feeling like I was building mojo and getting that mental game at just the perfect time. I passed the sign that indicated we were now within the city limits of Missoula, and I thought okay...less than an hour until I finish and get to see my family! I hugged the side of the road where I could run in partial shade, and hit up as many sprinklers as possible.

Mile 21: 8:39

I was still feeling pretty even stephen, and quite surprised. I'd obviously slowed a little bit but I just thought I'd be really hurting, crashing and burning by now when I was really just in base building mode for my fall marathon. I believe there is definitely something to be said for experience, and putting together all the little things that have worked for me in the first four marathons. A good fueling and hydration strategy was helping me out a lot today, along with knowing I wasn't trained today for a PR attempt.



Mile 22: 8:45
Mile 23: 8:51

Ah, so there it is...not the wall but just really getting to the point of being pretty physically spent, and really needing to crank up the mental game. We were now criss-crossing through the neighborhoods near downtown Missoula. Random fiddle players, a banjo player, residents on their lawns and sprinklers dotted the route. It brought me back to the feeling of making all those turns through the neighborhoods in Boulder for our tiny little 10K that takes place there every Memorial Day. Another Chuck Norris sign..."Superman wears Chuck Norris Pajamas."
I just focused on that whole incessant forward motion thing, and kept running ahead to the next sprinkler in the road so I could do the little leap-through.

Mile 24: 8:45

The route was getting really thick with the last of the half marathon walkers now, and sometimes they'd be two and three astride so I did a bit of weaving here and there. It wasn't really bad, but in mile 25 of a marathon every bit of extra work really hurt. I knew the end was near, though, and just pushed the tired legs to keep turning over at the same rate they'd been going.

Mile 25: 8:49

Oh, man. Ready to be done. More threading my way through walkers. I saw a bunch of high schoolers near the bottom of the road where I'd make one of the last turns. They had big foam hands and were trying to high five people going by. Yes. Time to slap some foam hands and feed off their energy. I got to them and made the turn and knew I was coming up to the home stretch.

Mile 26: 8:47

For those who are unfamiliar with the Boston Marathon, the last two famous turns on the course are the "Right On Hereford, Left On Boylston." Well, I was amused that we had kind of the reverse here in Missoula. It's left on Fourth, then right to turn and run down Higgins Avenue and across the Higgins Avenue Bridge to the finish. After running a course that is gently net uphill for most of the 26 miles, it was a nice payoff to hit a flat to very slightly downhill piece of road to sprint in to the finish. Coming across the bridge, I saw my husband and all the kids, who smiled and waved. I could see the time clock, and that I was going to make it in under my BQ time for my age group, something I wasn't sure would be entirely possible between all the factors involved with me, and this race. I hauled buns as fast as I could into the finish.


Last bit of road was at an 8:00 pace, measured as .3 miles by Garmin in a time of 2:23. My Garmin, which I'd started at the cannon blast to begin the race, read 3:44:11. Final official chip time, 3:43:52, 9th out of 82 in my age group. Not a bad way to ring in my "fifth marathonversary."

I got my free finisher photo after the race, headed through the covered tent where runners could pick up lots of free food (watermelon, pasta, bananas, fresh fruit popsicles and lots of water and powerade), and caught up with my family a few minutes later. I'd been so worried about this race being an epic disaster, and though it was the 4th slowest of my five marathons, I think the day couldn't have been better. This was my kind of course, and it provided a perfect setting to try my pacing experiment. Other than the Rim Rock Marathon, where a negative split is almost a given because of the uphill then downhill course, I think this was my smallest positive split to date, though I haven't looked at the numbers yet. What this seems to tell me is that when I am fully trained up (and hopefully free of injury) for Boston next year, I should really think about holding back a little more in the first half. I have crazy thoughts of a true even split or (gasp) negative split second half, and find myself believing that it could be possible after this Missoula Experiment.

I really enjoyed the rest of the weekend in Missoula, including the leg soak in the river I'd been dying to do. There were a number of like-minded runners who had also made their way down to the river, some just soaking their legs, and others going for a full swim in the delightfully icy waters. The guy in the upper left corner of the first photo below was so blissed out that he said he didn't know if he'd be able to get himself out of the water. It really felt like all the pain was being frozen and numbed in my legs, and it was just fun to be down there with the other weary but happy runners.






We spent part of our last afternoon in Missoula playing more in the water park at the hotel, which I believe is another reason why my legs feel so springy and alive less than two weeks after the race. I did a ton of three story stair climbs to slide and splash around in the cool water, alternating with soaks in the hot tub, and I think my legs just never had the chance to tighten up completely. It was a good way to unwind with the kids and just keep moving the body without forcing anything painful.

After an early dinner, we ended our day at The Big Dipper for ice cream cones. I'd highly recommend them if you're ever in Missoula for this race, or any other reason. They have a ton of interesting homemade flavors, and picnic tables where you can sit, chat, and enjoy your surroundings.

Now I'm back home and hitting the roads and trails again, and gearing up for my next challenge-the running and beer study. I hope I'm up for the task. The things I'm willing to do in the name of science. Oh, and one last detail. I was curious, so I did a little research on the Chuck Norris signs. Here is your lady responsible for the on-course giggles. Don't know if it's a fact that I am tougher than Chuck Norris, but I'll accept this as truth for the time being.

For Your Entertaiment

You know how sometimes you need a vacation from your vacation? I'm there now, with my head screwed on backwards, trying to catch up on things on the homefront after our trip to Missoula. I will gather my thoughts and write a race report in the next day or two when I am not rushed or pressed for time, but here are "just the facts, ma'am on my 2010 Missoula Marathon. My final chip time was 3:43:52, with a 9th place finish out of 82 in my age group, and 4th slowest time of my five marathons. I am actually quite happy with how things went, given where I am in training and that I chose to run a marathon in fricking JULY!

Until then, I thought I'd share my "big finish" in all of my inefficient, side-to-side arm flinging glory. I'm wearing the day-glo pink socks.

Please Back Away From the Googles Slowly, Ma'am

Yes, it's time again for that popular spectator sport called "Marathon Day Weather Watching." My oh my, am I glad I decided to put NO undue stress on myself to get a PR no matter the cost, because the forecast for Missoula on July 11th is looking like anything but dream weather at the moment.

I guess I am due for a really craptacular forecast on marathon day considering that the worst I've dealt with is snow squalls before a start of one race, and sunny 60-ish temps late in another race. Still, I wasn't counting on the perfect storm (pun intended) of highs in the upper-80's to low-90's, chance of thunderstorms, and low for the day of 55. I'm holding out hope for a strange cold weather front to push through late in the week, but as it is, I think I am looking at a conservative start, taking things mile-to-mile, and being okay with turning the race into something resembling a training run if conditions wind up turning into a worst case scenario. My husband and I have always wanted to go to Montana, and the kids are ready for a road trip adventure. That in and of itself will be great, even if the race winds up being a bomb.

In other more exciting and cool news, I got an email from my local running club about two weeks ago with an item that jumped off the screen at me. It was a notice that someone was recruiting volunteers for a study to be conducted by researchers at our local college. To be considered, subjects needed to be between 25-44 years of age (let's see-check), run at least 30 miles a week (hey, that's me too), and be a beer drinker (are you kidding? This study has my name ALL over it!). All participants in the study get free dinner and BEER as part of the process. You would have me right there at someone else picking up the tab for dinner and a cold frosty one, but the exciting part of it all is that the volunteers will be given a battery of tests, including VO2 max, lactate threshold, various metabolic factors, body composition and a few other fun things at the new state-of-the-art human performance lab over at the college.

I have always been curious about all the science behind running, and how I might measure up when given these tests, but it's simply not something I could afford to do on my own. So, I sent off answers to the questionnaire for potential subjects and crossed my fingers. I did hear back from the contact that she received my e-mail, and that I looked like an ideal candidate. SWEET, I thought-but I didn't want to do that thing with the chickens and counting. Well, I finally got word this morning that I am IN-I'm on the list of guinea pigs for the study. I will be going to a meeting next week to get all the details and do all the legalese of signing consent forms and acknowledgments.

As a moderate drinker I really don't feel any difference between getting up in the morning to run after a drink or two the night before versus nothing at all, so I am curious what the study will reveal when all is said and done. Literally getting on the hamster wheel in the name of science is pretty cool, too. If the information they gather helps runners to train better in the end, it would be neat to know that I got to play a little part in the process. Until then, it's back to weather watching, and maybe doing a little dance to the weather gods in the hopes of bringing something good to Montana this weekend.