Race Recap: One Hot Momma

So, I am definitely susceptible to peer pressure, especially when someone starts up on booking a race super-early. I always book my races as early as possible, so if you tell me 9 months ahead that you want me to run a race. . . chances are good I will do it rather than argue with you.  Good to know, right?

Jennifer posted the One Hot Momma 25k. It involves running and camping.

Despite my previous experiences with running and camping (Click here and here for my Ragnar Trail experiences), I believe that I am a camping goddess, so I signed on for the weekend, which was supposed to include running, drinking, napping, paddle-boarding, and lots of eating. It was our celebration before reporting back to school that week.

I packed as if I was going to the Amazon for a week of camping, even thought it was two nights. I brought lots of clothing, bathing suits, towels, food, beer, my cooler, my Taj Mahal (tent for 6 people with a front porch), chairs, racing clothing, other clothing, headlamps, knuckle lights, a paddle-board. . .Oh, you get the picture.

This wasn't Jen's car, but it may as well have been.  

We found that our campsite was located right on the race course!

We set up camp and unpacked and got our bibs:

Who's gonna set up camp?

I'll just stand there while Jen does all the work.

Then I'll take all the credit. Look at my beautiful tent on the left!

And then we had some necessary carb-loading:

The race we chose was the 25k, which was four 4-mile loops around the lake. Each loop went by our campsite, so we had the luxury of dropping things off and picking them up again. We became very familiar with the sights along the course:

Marta, Jen, Me, Renee at the start

The lake as the sun was rising.

We called these the Super Mario stones. I crossed them four times and made Mario jumping noises each time.
Photo Credit for almost all pics: Marta Pacur

I had some stomach cramps that morning, and though Jen, Renee, Marta, and I started out together, my secret plan was to ditch them by hitting up the bathroom on the first loop and then having a leisurely run for the rest of the 12ish miles.  Marta had other plans. When I got out of the bathroom, she was there waiting for me, and I knew then that I was going to have to run hard because she intended to catch up with Jen and Renee before the end of the loop. . . so we did.  

I tease Marta a lot, but she really is a great friend and running partner. She didn't need to wait for me, and I specifically told her not to do so, but Croatians are stubborn, so. . .

I had a plan for each loop to keep it interesting. The last loop was the farewell loop because we had to say goodbye to every landmark on the course.

Farewell, Super Mario Stones!

Farewell, Bullshit Hill of Nope!

And, we finished by 10:00 AM, which gave us plenty of eating and drinking time!

Marta, Renee, Me. Jen had finished the 8-mile route.

The route is really interesting and not too difficult. There were lots of people to talk to along the way, and the volunteers were awesome. I really liked this race, especially the medal, which was created by an art teacher.

There are a lot of good qualities to this race, as I have already written. The only drawback is that the campsite does not have showers or real bathrooms. I can survive a long time on a primitive site, but I need a shower and I need toilets with sinks.  The campsite had one bathroom with two toilets, but they locked one of them up. It was very inconvenient before, during, and after the race. As for the shower, the race officials connected with the local YMCA, who graciously allowed runners to use their showers after the race. I was ok with that, but I still think it's weird that a campground has no showers and hardly any working bathrooms.

After the race we ate and ate and ate and ate some more. Then we took naps, woke up, and ate again. It was glorious. This was the perfect opportunity to get my head together before I started school again, and a race three hours away is the perfect distance to do that.

Will I run it again? Honestly, I don't know. Bathrooms are a dealbreaker for me in races and camping, so I would have to succumb to lots of peer pressure before I sign up again. Despite the campgrounds, I liked everything about the race, and I encourage you to try it for yourself. You, too, can be One Hot Momma!

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Race Recap: Burning River 8 Person Relay

Burning River is a 100-mile race, but I don't treat it as a race. I consider Burning River to be a 24+hour party where I get to see every running friend I know. It is a weekend without sleep. It is a weekend to follow through on poorly-planned ideas with minimal training.

But that is just me.

There are friends who run the full hundred miles for this race (actually 102 miles!). There are friends who run the front or back 50. There are many friends who organize relay teams of 4 or 8 runners to cover this distance.  Last year I ran in a 4 woman relay, and this year I decided to run in an 8 woman relay with the Trail Sisters. Lest you think that I was taking it easy, I want you to know that I chose leg 7, which is a night leg of 17ish trail miles with 1,866 feet of elevation. Have I laid down my crazy for you yet? No?  How about if I tell you that due to work and family vacation, the longest distance I've run this summer is 13 miles, and that was at least 3 weeks ago?  Now are you convinced?

I was sick for two weeks before this race, and my running was minimal, but I wasn't worried too much about it. Trail running allows for some hiking as opposed to road running, where you are a wuss if you walk.  I knew I could finish my leg, but I didn't want to be very slow.

The Trail Sisters had their annual dinner the night before the race.

Can you find me? I'm in pink.

My leg wasn't slated to start until around midnight, so I had some time to kill. Marta, Jenn, and I decided to hang together to cheer on other runners at the 50 mile mark.

Marta, me, Jenn, Dawn, Kelleigh

We spent a few hours talking with running friends. Kelleigh was filming a documentary on the race, and I pestered her until she finally consented to film me (to shut me up). I am a star in her film (until I end up on the editing floor).

Here I am being VERY AMUSING.

We watched for our friend Jason, who was running his first 100 miler.  This was an emotional moment for all of us because Jason was running the race in honor of Steve Pierce, my friend and friend to many, who died from a heart attack in May. Read my tribute to him here.  Jennifer is Steve's wife, and I admire the strength it took for her to celebrate this race with us.  We stood in the sun for a few hours (in retrospect, I don't think that was a great idea), and we were rewarded with Jason coming in to the 50 mile point:

Jason looked strong coming in. He had a huge smile on his face when he saw that his crew (which was enormous) had brought in his mother, who is fighting cancer. She gave him a big hug and the strength he needed to continue.

Let me just take a minute to show you something and explain the context.  There are rules in races that have relay teams. One of the primary rules is that when a relay runner passes a 50 or 100 miler, they need to announce that they are a relay runner. This is courtesy, and it is very necessary in the last fifty miles of the race. Imagine that you are a 100 mile runner, and some punk blows by you on the trail: you would be discouraged, right? That is why it is necessary to announce yourself as a relay runner; you are letting the runner know that you have more energy because you have fewer miles. Many relay runners (read: ME) take it a step further, and they tell the runners they pass that they admire them for their stamina and courage. When I pass a 50 or 100 miler (after announcing myself), I always say something like, "Great job, Runner. You look strong!" or "I really admire your strength, Runner."  It's super-important to encourage those runners because they will need all the help they can get to finish.

Ok, so imagine you are a relay runner approaching the 50 mile mark of the course.  Imagine that the Race Director announces that the man you are running behind is a 100-miler, and then there is a huge crowd that cheers for him.  What would you do in the chute? Would you continue your pace behind him and let him take the lead for the last 50 feet?  Or would you give it everything you've got to blow by him and cross the marker before him?  Take a look at this dude, and guess what he decided to do:

Must. Pass. Hundred. Miler.  

Ok, 'nuff said.

Anyway, my leg was slated to start at midnight. Bobbi and Marta were driving me to the start when we got a text from Jenn (who was on the leg before me). She said she was dizzy and sick and was heading for the road. Marta used the race app to find her, and we drove to her location to pick her up. I think that those hours in the sun were working on us at that point. Marta and Bobbi dropped me at my start, and they took care of Jenn. Update: Jenn is fine. 

I started at Valley Picnic, which was uphill for miles. In fact, most of my run was freaking uphill.  Of course.  I knew every part of the 17+ miles I ran, but in the dark the trails weren't as recognizable, and I couldn't figure out how they linked together. Luckily, the course was well marked, so I didn't have to think about any of that.

My leg was a combination of road-Towpath-jogging path-trail. The trail parts were definitely slowing me down because of the night and the climbing, but I was able to make up for that on the road and Towpath. Sand Run jogging trail is MY HOUSE, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself running there.

The course was tough, and I ran it in about 4 hours and 12 minutes, which is slower than I had hoped, but I think it was understandable since it was climbing at night (and I was undertrained).  The aid stations were within reasonable distances, and the volunteers were AMAZING.  They were so kind, and they tried to make sure I was fueling and hydrating properly, even when I arrogantly dismissed their questions by saying that I was only running 17 miles.  I am an idiot for sure, Peeps. I don't know why my friends put up with me, unless I am fodder for jokes later.

Stuffing my face and considering my life choices at the aid station.

I met up with the Trail Sisters (thanks to Bobbi, Marta, and Nicole!) at the handoff to Kelleigh.

I have evil eyes. Why do you suppose that is?

Then Bobbi shuttled me back to the finish line, where I changed clothes and slept for about an hour in my car to wait for Kelleigh, who came in like a Speedy Gonzales, so I freaking missed her crossing the finish line.

I am apologizing to Kelleigh for being a Sleepy McSleeperson. Nicole is about to steal my purse and run away, it seems. Allison hopes to distract me to help out Nicole.

Team Sisters of Mayhem with our medals!

I really wanted to stay to see Jason come in, but I could barely keep my eyes open, and I knew I had to get home safely. This is what I missed:

Jason finished and held up Steve's shirt as he crossed the line. There wasn't a dry eye in the place.

I'm so proud of all my friends who ran this weekend: Sisters of Mayhem, Twisted Sisters (who kicked our asses), the Mother Runners, and the 50 and 100 milers. It was a challenge to run in the heat, and I am so proud of all of you; whether you met your personal goal or not, you are amazing to me.

I am so thankful to the Pacers for my friends and the volunteers for every part of this race. Your selflessness is an inspiration to me.  Your calmness and cheerfulness kept many runners going. I would especially like to thank Bobbi, Marta, and Kelleigh, who were seemingly everywhere during the race and who cheerfully shuttled us all around. Please note: Bobbi has EVERYTHING in her car because she is always uber-prepared and keeps her cool at all times.

I would like to thank the Race Directors for Burning River. You had many challenges laid upon you on top of the "normal" challenges of hosting a 100 mile race.  You did a great job of giving us a fun and challenging experience.

Peeps, this isn't the end. I've got a 25K (One Hot Mama) in just two weeks, and it involves camping, so you know there will be some stories. I hope that whatever trails you run, you run happy!

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Recap: Medina Half Marathon

It was a chill kind of race.

To give you an idea of it, I didn't even wear my Garmin that day. For me, that is UNHEARD OF.

I had come off the Cleveland Marathon with a time far above what I wanted. I was trying to recover. I was suffering. I got lucky.

I got lucky because I convinced a fellow Mother Runner (Amy) to run with me. She said she wanted a steady 11:00/mile pace, and I knew I could do that. Thank goodness for Amy.

We had a great time running in horrible heat (again), and I actually didn't worry about it because. . . hey. I said I would run an 11:00/mile, and that is what I did.  Thank you, Amy.

Lake Medina. Amy and I pretend that the freaking humidity isn't bothering us.

Finish line. See what a false friend I am? I had to sprint ahead.  Sorry, Peeps. I am just built that way.

 I would like to give a shoutout to the race director, Beth Bugner. I have run this race every year (with the exception of 2016, when I gave up my bib because I had to attend my friend's funeral). Each year truly gets better. I was in doubt that the Medina citizens would be able to handle a half marathon in their neighborhoods because their behavior was questionable and dangerous in the early stages of the race. This year I had no reservations whatsoever about cars or any dangerous situation, and I attribute that to Beth's hard work.  Thank you. The Medina Half Marathon is my goodbye to the school year, and the efforts of the coordinators and volunteers allow me to say goodbye in the best possible way.  I have already purchased my bib for next year, and I encourage you to do the same.  Let's meet at PJ Marley's afterwards for beer and omelets.

As soon as I finished the half marathon, I took off for Salt Lake City for a side gig scoring essays. Salt Lake City is gorgeous, Peeps. I was only able to run up to 5 miles each morning, but gosh.  I can't even describe the mountains as they turned from red to pink to orange.  What a great week.

I ran as far as I could go towards the foothills before 5:30. This is where the road stopped.

Capitol Building at 5:00 AM

For the past two weeks, I have tried to get back to a long trail run, but it has been difficult, Peeps. I am training for the 17.5 mile leg of Burning River, but I just don't have the time. Last week I ran 10 trail miles on Sunday, and this week I ran 13 trail miles. That will have to do because I am leaving for Houston for the National Education Representative Assembly next week. Then I have family vacation (thank God!), and then we have Burning River.  I'll be ready.  I will.

The Stepping Stones at Sand Run. Marta, Rae, Caroline. We had a great run today!

I wish I could be more clever, but I am dealing with a bit of writer angst this week, Peeps. I feel like I should have written on my education blog, and I feel like this post should have happened last week. Deadlines suck.

In any case, embrace the weather! I hope you run happy, Peeps!

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We Honor You: Cleveland Recap Part II

Last week I gave a first impression recap of the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon. In that post, I said that I wanted to write at least one other post to address my feelings about Taylor Ceepo's death.  I was avoiding writing the post because I was avoiding processing my feelings about all of it. I ran the Medina Half Marathon today (recap to come later), and several people asked me when I would continue my reflections on the events of the Cleveland Marathon.

So, I guess that will happen today.

Sunday was super-difficult for me, as you read in my post. It was difficult for most runners, but it was the MOST difficult for Taylor Ceepo's family.

If you haven't heard yet, Taylor Ceepo, Medina resident, St. Vincent alum, Walsh University graduate, died about a quarter-mile from the finish line while running the half marathon at the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon. Here is a link to her obituary in the Akron Beacon Journal.

Taylor Ceepo

I didn't know Taylor; I don't know her family. I teach at Medina High School, and I have heard/read that Taylor was a coach for a soccer club in Medina, so I'm thinking that some of my students knew her.  I know that we have some mutual friends who have talked to me about the memorial services.

When I think about Taylor, who was only 22, I think about her parents. I have two kids, Punkin (17) and Butterbean (12), and I am old enough to have had a 22 year old child. My first thoughts when I heard of her death were for her parents.  Elizabeth Stone summed it up perfectly when she said, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."

 When Punkin was 3 years old, I told my husband (the Kabyle Chef), "I think we need to have another child. If something happens to this one, I could never survive it."  The Kabyle Chef agreed with me almost immediately. Ok, ALMOST.  There is another part to this conversation; I also said, "They say you have one good one and one bad one."

The Chef's response was, "OMG. What if she IS the good one????"

Punkin at 3 years old.  Just kidding. It's a statue of Regan from The Exorcist.

Regardless, because I am neurotic, I have had nightmares about something terrible happening to one or both of my kids. It is the absolute worst thing to happen to a parent. So, that is why my first thought was for Taylor's parents.

My second thought was a jumble. As you may have read, the running community lost another great member in March: Steve Pierce. Click here to read my tribute to my friend.

Both deaths have hit me hard because they happened so close together and because they are SUCH A GODDAMNED INJUSTICE.  It isn't fair.  Steve's death made me angry and afraid, and Taylor's death has magnified that fear. With Steve's death, I had an existential midlife crisis that I thought I had scheduled for myself when I turned forty: What if I die? What is death? Is there an afterlife? All of these questions have tormented me since we lost him. When we lost Taylor, I had greater fears: What if my kids die? How will I go on?

Today, as I ran with a friend, she talked about the Greater Purpose behind death, specifically deaths that we feel happened too soon. I said that while I respect the beliefs of those who cling to the Greater Purpose, I do not believe that there is any purpose to an untimely death. It's wrong. Steve's death was wrong. Taylor's death was wrong. It's not fair. Screw this.

So, what do I take from this? There is no good from the deaths of two people who left suddenly and too soon.  There is no lesson; there is only the reaction.  I can't always control the circumstances of my life, but I can control how I react to them.

When I fear death, mine or someone else's:

I must remember to fiercely love my children, even. . .ESPECIALLY when they are unlovable. I must hug them and hold them and kiss them and remind them that I NEED  them.

I must look to my community and my friends, and I must remind them that I value them and I love them. . .because I may not always have them. This is not easy for me because, well, I'm sort of prickly.  That is my reaction, and I need to change it. My friends deserve more from me.

I must remember that everyone around me has a story and a history. We are all dealing with shit and a struggle, and my job is to find a better reaction to their struggles.

My favorite novel in the whole world is To Kill a Mockingbird, and I am lucky to be able to finish every school year with it in my Sophomore Language Arts class.  Atticus Finch, the best role model for a parent and leader that I can ever imagine, said, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” 

Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch

I can look at my world with more empathy because frankly, I don't know how much longer I or those I love will remain in it.   

I can choose to be angry, or I can choose to love. Actually, I choose both. 

As you can tell, this is a rambling way for me to square my thoughts. I have no answers or assurance. 

I will run away from my troubles, as I have always done. This time, though, I will recognize the journey and friendship of those who run with me and around me.

I love you, Peeps. Run happy.


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Hot in Cleveland: Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon Recap

Sooooo. . . I've spent my time training in the coldest of cold temperatures this winter and spring. Zero degrees? PSSSHHHH.  Who knew that Cleveland would smack me in the face with 80+ degrees on race day???? But. . . I've gotten ahead of myself.

I worked the Expo on Saturday morning for a little bit, but things were slow, so I was allowed to go pick up my packet and browse the expo. So many fun things to do! I got a free blood pressure check and facial screening (Scary! Peeps, wear a hat when you run outside), and I bought socks, Bondi Bands, and a 50K car magnet (in honor of Forget the PR). I also took a pic, of course:

What bib number are you? Do you have any ID? NO???? NO BIB FOR YOU!!!

I'm official!

This is EXACTLY how I look when I win a marathon wearing Birkenstocks.

I met Marta for a pre-race dinner, took a two-mile walk with the kids, and then went to bed early.

The next morning was a 4:00 wake-up.  I had already laid out my clothes and gear,  so it was a matter of drinking my coffee and eating my bagel and fretting about finding a parking space. FYI: There is no need to fret about parking spaces, but I do it every year. This year I pulled right into a lot just feet away from the finish area. Easy peasy.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I am fretting about  parking. Notice that I am ALREADY SWEATING.

I met up for starting line promo pics:

2019 Ambassadors

This year the photographer didn't pick me to stand in front of everyone else. I am less special this year, I guess.

Marta and I took pictures with everyone we could find:

Women of Cleveland: Melissa, Pam (nice tongue), Stephanie, Katie, Melissa, Me, of course.

Marta and I walk to the start.

Marta found Jeffery and Nikki, who brought Rico Suave to cheer us on!

Corral Shenanigans: Here we go!

Normally, the first 13 miles of a marathon are pretty chillax for me because I don't push myself too hard. It's a time to warm up, talk, take the beer miles when/if you can, high five little kids. This year was different. Even after mile 2 I felt like I was on the struggle bus, and that bus was not where I wanted to be. It was so hot and humid; I was already finding it difficult to breathe and find a good pace.

There were definitely some great moments--like the Bishop, for instance:

I was hoping to get a picture with this dude! He made my day!

We took a beer mile, and it was very refreshing in the heat. I don't regret that at all.

Lots of bridges. So cool.
Photo credit: Marta Pacur

This is EXACTLY how I look when I am pretending I am not on the struggle bus.
Photo Credit: Marta Pacur

I love the Cleveland Marathon course. It has all kinds of neighborhoods and scenery: Downtown, The Flats (both East and West banks), Tremont, Ohio City (Hello, Speedo guy again this year!), Clifton, Edgewater, Battery Park, Gordon Square. Everything is so interesting, and the course really highlights what makes Cleveland special. I love running the out-and-back stretch to Rocky River and back to Edgewater because I can look for my fast friends to inspire me on the way down. I saw Ryan (3:05 pacer!), Steve (3:45 pacer!), Eric,  and Pam. When we were around Mile 14, we saw Luke, who was looking super strong, even in the incredible heat and humidity. He gave us hugs and high fives, and yelled, "Who made me sign up for this?" Marta and I both pointed to each other and shrugged.

The wheels really came off around mile 17. I was really, really hot. I wasn't sweating, and my heart was beating too fast. I was worried that I was getting heat stroke. I started walking a bit during almost every mile. I didn't want to fuel after mile 15 because I was feeling nauseous, but I knew I needed the fuel. I also felt like I was drinking too much water, so I started swishing and spitting at the aid stations and dumping water over my head instead of swallowing it. God bless the people who sprayed us with hoses because they probably saved me.  God bless Marta, too, because she stuck with me even though I told her to go ahead because I was definitely not going to make a good finish time.

Seriously, Peeps, it was really difficult out there. One mile out from the finish, I couldn't even get excited enough to run it in until Lee came by us just before the bridge. She gave a great pep talk and really helped me buck up. "There is serious carnage out there," she told us. "Even the elites have dropped the idea of a PR today, so you are badasses for being out here. Now, you are allowed to walk up the hill to that bridge because you are trail runners, but then you are going to run it in to the finish. Get going!" I managed to run and finish, and I fell apart as soon as I stopped my Garmin.

Marta doesn't know it, but I was crying and hyperventilating here.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I fall apart after I stop my Garmin.

I'm a mess. Luke is fine; Pam and Steve are fine.
Photo Credit: Marta Pacur

I drank some chocolate milk, but I couldn't handle more sugar, so I drank a beer, and it actually made me feel better. Then I was able to interact a bit more.

Ambassadors Finish! Eric, Pam, Me
Photo Credit: Steve McGowan

Marta, Me, Pam, Eric, Luke
Photo Credit: Steve McGowan

Me, Luke, Marta
Photo Credit: Eric Geyer

This race was no joke, Peeps. I have never walked so much in a road race in my entire life. Today I feel like a long train ran me over. 

I am grateful that I was able to finish, and I am grateful to my friends who supported me in this journey.

I have more to say about the race, specifically about the people who couldn't finish, and more specifically about Taylor Ceepo, who collapsed and died a mile from the finish line. I will honor Taylor with a separate post, but I wanted to acknowledge that this day was marked by tragedy. My heart goes out to Taylor's family and friends.

Lastly (for this post), I want to thank all the volunteers who helped out in this race. You gave me water, Powerade, and HoneyStinger gels, you sprayed me with the hose, you smiled and cheered and awarded me a sweet medal. Thank you for giving so generously of your time and spirit. Thank you to the Staph family and all the organizers who put all of this together. Thank you to my fellow Ambassadors who are more than social media friends to me; they are my family.

And thank YOU, Peeps. 

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Run Happy, Peeps!