Dead Possum Says What? 2009 Possum Trot Race Report

It says: Girl, you are better off playing possum than racing with possum legs.

Sigh.

Will I ever learn?

There is always that tiny optimistic part of me that thinks it could happen. . .

Whatever, I'm playing my girl card: rational thinking is not my strong suit.

So, yeah, I had a bad race.

Hey, and here comes, you know--the silver lining; gotta have the bad races to have the GREAT races!

So, you see, it is all strategy on my part. I am racking up--of course intentionally-- all these crappy 10k's so that I will be sure to have a GREAT one pretty soon. It is all part of Nat's 10k PR Master Plan. . .

Okay, maybe there was a little self sabotage at work before Saturday's Possum Trot. My sister in law graciously had my kids over for a cousin sleepover. This meant I had an adult evening with my husband. Never ones to pass up an adult evening we enjoyed ourselves with a dinner out at a restaurant where people don't bring their kids. We even had dinner at the bar. And by dinner I mean I had a Blue Goose martini and a glass of wine. Oh and that beer I had blogging the previous blog post. Then we ate ourselves silly and that is all you get to know and probably care to know about my adult evening with my husband.

I got up at 5:30 am fairly rested and went about my race morning routine. I headed out and got to the river with 30 minutes to start time. I parked a mile away and jogged to the start area. My legs? Playing possum. Uh oh.

By this point I have pretty much figured out that based on how my legs feel in the pre race warm up I can pretty much know how I am going to race. They weren't awful--not as bad as they have felt after a 70 mile week-- but they were definitely not in race mode and definitely far from a "we're running a pr baby!" mode.

Still, that tiny part of me hoped. Yeah, that tiny stupid part. Okay, huge taking up my entire frontal lobe part. But what was I to do? I was there, I had my number, and while it was 90% humidity it was still in the 60's-- so not totally unbearable.

So I went and found my secret potty at the Nature Center. I have to admit that I was worried when I passed the long lines at the porto potties and the one in the staging area that perhaps my secret potty would be closed or maybe it was no longer there as it has been 3 years since I ran a race on this course.

But no, my secret potty is still there: clean, well stocked and best of all: no lines. And no I will not reveal the location of the secret potty on my blog but if you ask me in person I will tell you so long as you promise not to tell your friends as I don't want to have wait in a long line. Not only am I not a rational person; I am also not a patient person.

I headed down to the start and ran into a few acquaintances and lined up. I wasn't terribly happy with my line up. I wanted to be on the other side of the road (classic possum and chicken dilemma) but decided it really didn't matter (maybe it does matter.)

So we were off and I ran for a few seconds and when I went to turn on my ipod it would not come on. At first I did not panic and was just puzzled since I had just been listening to it and knew it was charged. I tried to calm myself down: One, I was freaking out because I could hear myself and everyone else breathe--which I totally hate. Two, I was freaking out because I have had my ipod for over 3 years now. I don't think I have ever even had a cell phone for that long. I destroy all electronics and fragile things (WARNING:do not lend me your stuff. I will break it. I won't mean to but I will break it.)

So I am running along the road completely upset that I am hearing breathing but more so because my ipod might be broken. I give myself a pep talk that: One, it will be okay. I have actually run several PR's in shorter races with no ipod. And two, Ryan's ipod will now be my ipod--I just need to get through this race.

Oh, but then, my ankles are feeling kinda crunchy. Dang it. I hate it when my feet and ankles hurt when I run. It isn't like it is your hip or you shitband or you quad or your hammie or you have headache--those things I can ignore. Ankles, feet and calves--I can't ignore. Best I can hope for is that it goes away.

So hit the one mile in 6:40. And then I am walking. And then I am annoyed because I am rope hanger. But I do take the opportunity to fix my ipod. Back in business I start running again. But then at the 2 mile marker--which comes in around 15 minutes and change I am walking again. Legs are just not cooperating. And of course it is bugging me that everyone and their grandma is whizzing past me.

Holy crap I hate a 10k.

I see Doug on his bike--out for his Roswell 60 mile, scanning the crowd, probably looking for a familiar face. He doesn't see me even though I could almost knock him off his bike he is so close. I don't call out and he passes me and I start running. Then I am walking again. Not really sure why. I am just kind of tired, my legs are super heavy, my ankles crunchy, weak. Pass the 5k point in 24 minutes. Wow, that is really crappy.

Irritated and rolling my eyes so hard at myself I can see my stupid non functioning frontal lobe: I give it the finger. I am so mad at myself for wimping out but I am also laughing at how terrible I am doing.

It occurs to me that this is going to be embarrassing if I keep this crap up; so I start running again. I totally suck it up. Not suck it up in that some sort of magical thing happens and I sprout new legs and am now churning out 6:30's. But I am running 7:20-7:40's. But boy does it completely suck and it is super hard to maintain. I am having to fight to hold it. To make my legs do it. Really, that pace should not feel hard for me--it usually doesn't--well at least not until after 16 or so miles. It is my super secret(well not now) marathon pace that I practice on the treadmill. 7:30's usually feel pretty good to me. Yesterday they felt like hell. It was like I was a possum who had just had my back side hit by a car and I was trying to drag my half dead carcass down the road to safety where I could crawl into the woods and die my slow, ugly and agonizing death.

Despite my death crawl I did try to remember my "run happy" attitude and yelled out to the winners as I saw them heading towards the finish. I did console myself that everyone else looked pretty miserable too. Dead possums love company.

Finally, after a small eternity it was my turn to cross the finish line: 47:32.

Shrug. I know plenty of people who would be happy with that time. And at one time I was one of those people. So I don't want to diminish anyone else's achievements but that time is a huge step back from where my 10k time has been for the past 2 years. I would rather see myself stuck in the 44's rather than see myself already fading back to where I was several years ago.

Well, I am not going to let it get me down. I just have lots of work to do. I hope this is just a case of my body not being fully recovered from the marathon. I do tend to lose some speed but I feel like I have lost both speed and endurance. I'll give it a bit more time before I completely freak out. For now I will run how my body allows and make nice again with the swim and the bike.

Today I enjoyed a very nice bike--44 miles in Roswell with my good friends Steph and Jamie. Oddly and telling enough the roads were littered today with possum, squirrel, and turtle carnage. (oh and I almost destroyed my cell phone but apparently the electronic God must be smiling or having a joke on me this weekend because it was miraculously spared.)

I know, there I go again reading metaphor where there is probably none, but things are just kinda stinking lately-- and I am not just talking about the road kill.

Trying to stay positive though so I will end with: tomorrow is another day and there will be other races.

Again, thanks for putting up with my belly aching.

PS. Sorry there are no pictures. Camera is lost and I don't have a new one.

Rope Hanger

This is my little rope hanger:
He has that perma-grin the whole time he is rope hanging, half drowning, half karate-man swimming his way across the pool--vertically not horizontally--you know, like how most people swim.
That, by the way, is his back stroke. He thinks he is AWESOME at backstroke. His freestyle looks the same except he goes forward.

That kid?

Pain in my ass that he is has the BEST attitude about swim practice.

This year is his first year on swim team. And while he struggles every single practice he doesn't complain, he doesn't get down that I (and everyone else) constantly yells at him TO GET OFF THE ROPE. He just smiles and makes his way anyway he can down the pool.

And let me tell you. The past few weeks have been the practices of tough-love-suck-it-up-get-your-butt-in-the-pool-buttercup.

I went through this last year with Carmella so she knows better but at least half of the kids are crying, shivering, complaining with their "I can't's" and "I won't's" and whining and belly aching their way through practice. I am not just talking about the 5-6 year olds. I've even seen a few 8 years lose their marbles at practice. You should have seen it when the coach said they had to swim for 5 minutes straight. Carnage everywhere.

But Beau.

He has a smile on his blue freezing face the whole time; swimming past all his little friends who are crying and begging their mommies to let them get out. The positive attitude though does not make up for the rope hanging. It is a problem and has become a habit for him. I even think he is doing it on purpose--not out of necessity. I constantly walk along the pool and scream "Put your face down and swim!" He just smiles up at me.

So I tried a different tactic and told him that he would NOT be able to swim in a meet if he couldn't swim to the end of the pool without touching the rope. Even still, at practice everyday, he was a rope hanger. Nevertheless the coach put him in one event.

So he got to swim: 25yd Freestyle.

And he did not touch the rope once. But urgency was not his. He even swam slower than he did at the time trials a week ago.
Why?
Because he had his face up the whole time looking around and smiling at everyone looking at him and yelling at him to swim!!!
He LOVED it.
Guess he wanted to prolong his moment and make it all his. Then he got to the shallow end and realized that he could actually stand up (since he was swimming vertically down the pool). So he stopped. Stood up. Raised his shoulders in a motion that said "what?". Then looked around at everyone; flashed his perma-grin and then put his face down and swam the last 8ft to the wall the correct way. The pool deck roared with laughter.

So he got third-- out of 3 swimmers. And when he got his ribbon he said "Oh, yay! I really like white!"

Cannot knock this kid down, I tell you.


I should also share that when I gave his team jammers he put them on and then asked me; "Mommy, do these make me look fat?"
Before I could answer I saw he had that wicked little smile. Such a joker.

I swear I feel like he is always mocking me.

Because it occurred to me Wednesday, while out for a 10 mile run and I was completely sucking tail that I am rope hanger. But worse, I am a whiner and complainer. Sure I can laugh at myself when it is all said and done and over but I HATE that I can't have that perma-grin; that positive, laugh at myself in the moment attitude. I am, the worst kind of rope hanger.

I really, really appreciate all the comments on my Twisted Ankle post and I am so glad I was able to make people laugh but I absolutely hate myself for my little melt down and not remaining positive. I hate that I didn't suck it up. I HATE that I was a rope hanger.

So Wednesday, when I found myself walking in the final mile of my 10 mile run I yelled at myself to "get off the rope and suck it up!" I did finish running and then further punished myself in the afternoon with a 3,500 yd swim--no stopping and no rope hanging I am happy to report. (Just a lot of boredom.)

I also went that afternoon and signed up for the Possum Trot 10k.

I am absolutely in no sort of shape to race a 10k but I am forcing myself to get off the rope and push through it. The way I see it: I have no residual pain from the marathon--aside from a little right ankle stiffness but I've had way worse. And my feet are pretty much healed up from walking all over the French Quarter in inappropriate shoes and my liver, well, it is what it is. It has been through worse. I am tired but I've been tired before. . . So I am racing tomorrow! At least in spirit. I may not be fast but I'll be out there putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as I can manage.

However, I should mention--that little Beau, I think he is mocking me again. All day today he kept saying,"Look Mommy! A dead possum!" Pointing out recent road kill. Then he reminisced, when we drove by the patch of sidewalk that we walked down a few weeks ago that had a dead rotting possum on it for awhile saying: "Oh, it is gone. I think all the maggots finally got it Mommy, " he told me.

I am trying really hard to NOT read metaphors into things my 5 year old says but as a one time lit major it is hard. I have tendency to seek out metaphor in the smallest of moments and most insignificant of conversations. Not only am I a rope hanger; I'm a metaphor reacher.

One last thing. I would be remiss if I did not mention this on my blog--plus it is yet another example how my kids are a way better human beings than I can ever hope to be:

Carmella has a kicky new do:

She chopped 12 inches off her hair to donate to locks of love.

I'm still working on me being a better person everyday but hey, at least my kids seem to be a on solid track (even if there is the occasional rope hanging).

Mantra for tomorrow: Get off the rope and run happy!

Doubling the Happy

As I said last post. That is my new running mantra.

But boy today did I ever set myself up for possible disappointment and definitely not running happy by doing a 5k and a 10k back to back. I needed a speed workout and I needed to get miles over 50. Also, as soon as I finish the Twisted Ankle marathon I am going to shift gears and focus this summer on finding some speed. I would like to run a 3:20 marathon next year (really 3:23 but might as well shoot for 3:20).

At my current level I don't have the raw speed to support a 3:20 marathon. So before I set myself up for too ambitious goals I need to make some speed gains at the shorter distances. The McMillan Calculator is a pretty handy tool for figuring out training paces and setting races goals based on recent race times and various distances. But let me warn you: the calculator is just a tool, not a contract. So don't get your heart set on anything you may see there. Like it has been telling me based on my shorter races that I can run a 3:24 marathon. That hasn't happened yet. But to me this just means that if I can get faster at the shorter distances than I am now that I might see such a marathon eventually. . .

So, yeah, anyway . . .

My goal for the 5k was to PR--which is anything better than 21:10.

My goal for the 10k was to run next year's goal marathon pace which is (hopefully) 7:35-45 range.

And today . . . I met one of my goals and exceeded the other.

I ran VERY happy today.

Okay, that isn't entirely true. I felt like hot dog poop the entire 5k except the first 30 seconds. But for the 10k I felt AWESOME almost the whole time--until the last 1/4 mile where suddenly I felt like I was moving in slow motion.

You know I can drag anything out so here is the long race report but I have pictures too to help you wade through my lengthy discourse.

Here I am driving to the race:

It is early!

Here is the sun coming up as I drive down Willeo. This road sucks. It screws me on the bike. It is a long down hill that we ride to the river--after several miles of uphill. The downhill is fabulous but it is little reward for the uphills you just rode because you always have to stop at the light. And that takes all the fabulousness out of the downhill because you have to remember to down shift so you don't fall over when the light changes because you are in a high gear. Then leaving the river you have to ride up Willeo. It isn't hard just really really long. You just can't win on this road is all I am saying. But it looked pretty this morning. Ignore my dirty windshield please.
This morning was also warm. It is probably going to be the warmest day we've had all year. The sun wasn't even up and my car said it was 58 degrees. The high today is suppose to be in the 80's. For the 5k I would say it was about 60-65 and for the 10k it was probably almost 70 at the finish. Driving back my car said 74. Luckily the race was by the river which is one, mostly shaded and two, you get a bit of cool breeze coming off the river for most of the run. Oh it helped that both course are pretty flat. Hills and heat are never my friend.

I got to the start and found Doug.
Doug was running the 5k/10k double with me (we are also running the Twisted Ankle Trail marathon in a few weeks together too).

His wife Steph was pushing the girls in the jogger for the 5k and then taking the girls to do the fun run.

Doug and I have known each other since middle school. He and his guy friends use to call me in the middle night and tell me what they wrote in sharpie on whoever had the misfortune of passing out first (usually Ross). Steph we met our freshman year of college. The three of us live very close and have been training together for the past 3 years.

Unfortunately Steph has had plantar fasciitis pretty bad and has been sidelined for awhile now. But she is starting to make a come back.

Here is Steph also with her sister Jen. I think this was to be Jen's first 5k. But just before the start she got the call to come catch a baby and had to leave. (she's OB/GYN). Congrats to whoever had a baby today!

Then I had to put my camera away because I didn't want to run with it. Doug and I lined up the front. He had us smack in the middle and I insisted we move to the side. Finally some of the really fast boys showed up and got in front of us and I felt better about everything.


Mayor Woods, in his bow-tie said go. Really. He said "go". I was kinda waiting for a horn or a gun so I a bit caught off guard.

As I mentioned before I felt pretty good the first 30 seconds. I knew I was going to run fine since my calf hadn't bothered me at all in my warm up. I had been worried since I ran 21 miles Tuesday (8:26 pace) and then 12 (8:14 pace) on Thursday. Sometimes I recover fast; sometimes I don't. I usually don't know until I try to run fast. I could run every single day so long as it was slooowwwww. Fast (again fast being a relative term) is always hard for me: it takes more out of me than long runs.

The only split I have for the 5k is the first: 6:12. Totally ridiculous. I have never run a 6:12 mile ever that I know of.

The first mile and a half I was right beside or on the heels of first and second women. They had racing flats on. Me? I had my marathon trainers on. Clearly, not a professional. As is always the case in a 5k I begin to fade hard and the girls pulled away from me. I cheered for the first place guy as he passed me when I was approaching the turn around. I think I surprised him cause he looked at me like I was crazy. But I wanted to let him know that 2nd place wasn't that far behind him. Just trying to be helpful.

At the turn around I saw Doug and we high-fived. Then in mile 2 I passed Steph going out and we high-fived. The guy manning the traffic at Riverside and Dogwood threw me a thumbs up and I gave him one back.

Just as I was approaching the 3 mile marker Doug surged past me. I thought bastard but yelled "Go Doug!" He beat me by 5 seconds (but I beat him in the 10k.)

I ran down the finish and hit my watch for 20:49!!!!! A 21 second PR. Not smashing, I know, but my goal was to Pr and (secretly) to run under 21. So I did it! I was 3rd woman over-all and first in my age group.

My friend Todd--who I must give a shout out for having just run 2:54 at Boston this week--was handing out flyers for the Big Peach 5k and congratulated me.

Some old man told me if nothing else I won for best hair style. I appreciated that since this is the only hair style I can do that doesn't leave my hair a matted mess of dreadlocks. Glad someone thinks it looks good.

Doug and I filled out our cards, grabbed some water and I had a Gu and checked my watch: 7:55 am. The 10k was starting in 5 minutes and we had a bit of walk to get to it so we high tailed it to the start for the 10k.

The 10k didn't start promptly at 8 am as I thought it would. Which was probably good since it gave my heart a little more time to get out of my throat. My plan was to run the first mile recovery and then see how much I could push it. We lined up mid pack and waited.

Finally we were moving. And instantly I was ready to roll. I weaved through the crowd and tried to remind myself to take it slow. When I passed the guy manning the intersection at Dogwood and Riverside he did a double take and gave me a little applause. Guess he remembered me.

I was both surprised and happy at the first mile split being 7:15. I was feeling really good! Today? Today I LOVED 10k's. Much better than the 5k.

Check out my splits:
Mile 2: 7:15
Mile 3: 7:15--3/4 of this mile was on gravel road. I thought I would slow but I didn't.
Mile 4: 7:29--I walked an aid station to drink some water. I also saw on the turn around that I was probably in 4th or 5th place for the girls. This really surprised me.
Mile 5: 7:14 Still feeling really good. Pass guy at the intersection again and he gives me 2 thumbs up. I throw one back to him.
Mile 6: 7:22 I started to slow a bit in hopes that I could really sprint it out.
Mile .2: 1:54 Unfortunately as soon as I passed the 6 mile sign I felt like I was suddenly moving in slow motion or wading through molasses. I was very hot and, well, suddenly, tired.
But the finish was there and I crossed at 45:47 for an average 7:23 pace.

I was 31st over all, either 4th or 5th woman and 2nd in my age group. Not a bad day at the races.

More pictures:
Annika with her award

Dagny with hers (I told her to hold it up)


Doug was first in his AG for the 5k. He did not want me to take his picture.


And me, with my bookends:

Bad Race Gone Happy

So behind here, I know . . .

Last weekend I ran a 10k and I totally bombed it.

But I am okay about it. I knew I would bomb it. I had some great workouts last week. Most mentionable I ran 20 miles at Kennesaw Mountain (that's off road!) with Ms. sub 3 hour marathoner Kate Brun (good luck at Country Music Marathon! You will do awesome!)

I LOVE running with her. She is everything I am not--most notably, positive. Running with her pushes me to not only run faster and stay honest but also stay positive. She even gave me a hat that says "Run Happy".

Here I am on our run around 17-18 miles--"running happy."

Last week ended up being a big week considering it was less than 3 weeks from GA ING. I say big week for me because I know there are many runners out there who put in a lot more miles than I. On Friday I was at 53 miles for the week and my legs were dead; swollen even.

I know what you are hearing is excuses--I hate them too. But a smarter runner than I would have said--Wow! I am toast this week. I am in no shape to race.

But I had planned to race something on Saturday.

Never one with the best laid plans, am I?

A few weeks ago I was having beers with my good friend Dee Dee. She told me I should do "this 10k" by her house--"you could totally win," she added, dangling the carrot. Whatever I thought. I never win (that 5k was a total fluke.)

But still, the line? It was baited and I am a dumb fish.

My original plan was to run the Sweetwater 5k that day and drink copious amounts of beer at the festival after wards (that part of the plan I did adhere to).
But I never got around to registering and I when I tried online registration it had been closed. I didn't want to worry about driving downtown and not getting a number. Dee called me Friday afternoon and reminded me about the 10k and offered to go sign me up. So I was on board--all the way though nay saying the sense of me racing in my condition.

While we were on the phone--discussing the next day's plans-- we stalked last year's results together. Winning woman was 44:xx.

I've run several 10k's(though I've only run about 8 10k's in my life) in the 44xx range and even one sub 44. But, as I told Dee, I was not in the shape to run 44 tomorrow. I kinda wondered if sub 48 was even in the cards.

I am not kidding; my legs were in bad shape. Too much mileage not enough recovery. I had run--since the Ga marathon and including the marathon--almost 150 miles in 2 1/2 weeks. That is a lot for me--at least after a marathon.

Then I looked at Dee's time from last year: 1:02 xx. What's that about I asked her? That is about the same pace you run a half marathon at. You should definitely be sub 1 hour 10k, I told her. She responded with "I just run my little pace for everything"

I told her she should try to be faster.

She told me she didn't really care.

I, of course, did not believe her.

First, let me say this about Dee. She is beautiful. All the boys drool for her. Wait, I know this blog is "useless without pictures" so here is an oldie but goodie of me and Dee: Strangely, the only pictures I have of her and I we are wearing costumes. She is, if nothing else, a kindred spirit.

But sadly, she is not as much the runner as I am but is rather lady-who-is-tennis-who-sometimes-runs-a-half-marathon--occasionally-a-10k-just because she can (with very little training).

I woke up race morning and the legs were still not good. Trying to be Positive Nat instead of Negative Nat I stuck with my plan. I got to the start early and had tons of time to warm up. I ran, stopped and stretched and ran and stretched some more. My left calf was not with the program. I kept thinking if I could it warm it up really good I would be okay and could nail some hard paces. But the reality of it was I just wasn't feeling it. I knew it but I go in with the attitude of you don't know until you try. Fact of the matter is though; that sometimes you do know. You just hope you are wrong--even when you know you are right.

I met up with Dee before the race and she instructed me to "get in front." I did but then I got intimidated by a few girls who were much faster looking than I that were also toeing the front line. So I stepped a row back.

Off we went and after a bit I thought, hmm I feel pretty good. This might be my day after all. . . Then I checked my watch and saw that only 45 seconds had passed.

I tried my best to stay behind she-who looked-the-fastest-of-them-all but I did end up passing her pretty early on. I could "feel" her on my heels though and it really really really bugged me. I felt like she had picked me out and I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted no part of competition--which, of course, was because I knew I couldn't win. Who wants to compete if you know you are going to lose. You have to think you are going to win to win-- or at least have some tiny, teeny part of you that thinks that. I had no small--even microscopic-- parts of me thinking that. And as it turned out--my whole being was right on. And this is one of those times where being right was really not what I wanted . . .

About a half mile in my calves were locked and the suckage of a 10k was hard upon me.

I hit the first split in 7:05. I was fine with this time--this is a hilly 10k and I really wasn't expecting much out of me--but my calves were just getting worse and now we were starting on an uphill. I started thinking about it and decided that wow! 10k's suck and I was NOT having fun! The idea of 37+ more minutes of this agony was just not something I was up for after all. This? Was most definitely not "running happy." And me? I am about the happy (or so I keep telling myself). So when I saw the water stop I stopped and decided I would wait for Dee. I decided it would be more to run with a friend.

I waited for what felt like FOREVER but really was only a few minutes.

She saw me and was like; "What the hell?! You were doing good!".I told her I wasn't doing good and wasn't up for the fight. But I would be helping her run a PR and she would be going under the hour. She didn't seem as happy at this news as I thought she should be.

What.EVER!!! And so began my cheer leading and chatter for the next 4 and so miles. I knew I was being annoying and Dee kept saying "Really, if you are feeling it you should go on! Really."

And I would assure her I was right where I wanted to be. Running fast? Over-rated. Painful. 10k's? They suck! But she? She was doing awesome!

Do you feel like you are going to throw up a little? I would ask.

Yeah-- a little, she would admit.

And I would cheerfully tell her THAT is AWESOME! That means you are running EXACTLY how you should be!!

She looked at me like I was crazy. Or like she wanted to trip me.

See Dee? Dee runs pretty. I kept thinking she is looking too good; we should go faster. And I would try to pick up the pace and if she lagged I would slow, otherwise I would hold it and she would run faster to keep up.

At four miles--after the worst of the hills-- I told her that she had 24 minutes to run 2.2 miles to get under the hour. That she had this, I told her. And that seemed to rally her. Her miles were actually getting faster. I guess she realized that the only way to get rid of my annoying presence would be to get this race over with.

As soon as we passed the 6 mile marker I picked out a tree 50 or so feet ahead of us and told her: See that tree? (she nodded blindly) When we get to it I am going to start sprinting and you better chase me. She nodded. You see that young girl in the blue shirt, I asked. She nodded again, looking at me like I was little crazy (I am). She's going down, I told her. You are going to beat her. She nodded but didn't look like she believed me.

And then I took off; calling over my shoulder to her: "Go Dee Go Dee! Kick it!" And I saw she was chasing after me. I sprinted past girl in blue shirt and down the straight a way to the finish. I crossed just under 57 minutes and then stopped in the shoot to wait for Dee. I got yelled at to "keep moving "but I stood my ground, letting people go around me, loosing my place, and yelling for Dee.

And at 57:13 she zoomed in, one second before girl in blue shirt, for a new pr and a 5 minute improvement over last year's time on the same course.

After she caught her breath she thanked me; saying she "never would have run that fast" on her own (which, of course isn't true.) Then said she could not believe I talked the WHOLE time.

So yeah, MY race sucked but my race was great because I got to watch a good friend have great success and that, for me, last Saturday, was what running happy meant.

But by golly, I sure hope that tomorrow--when I attempt a 5k and 10k back to back double-- that running happy means fast! I hope. . .

If not, I will find a way to the happy, some how.

Good luck to all my racing friends this weekend--cyclists, triathletes, and runners alike. May you all have happy races.