Race Report: Mid Tenn Shootout 5K

This race has been on my calendar for a long time. It was billed as being fast, flat, competitive, and there was prize money that went 8 deep. Full disclosure: The Race Director is also a sonofabitch, so, of course I wanted to support him. We may be bitches, but we are supportive bitches.

As you know, my running has been a bit all over the place lately. I haven't done a specified workout in weeks. I haven't done intervals in over a month. I fully expected this race to be a HURTFEST and I expected to run somewhere in the 23:00 range.

I jogged around with the bitches before the race as a warm up and while I didn't feel all that bad, I also didn't feel all that peppy either.

Nevertheless, I lined up at the start with the bitches and hoped that I could hold on with them for most of the race.

Please note: We have just crossed the start line and Melissa Bitch (green shirt, center)

is ALREADY checking her pace.

The bitches took off and left me in their dust. I am probably the slowest starting runner I know. It's kind of ridiculous. But, I held on and let my dwarf sized legs get loosened up and then I started focusing on people to pass. 

I felt good. But, I kept telling myself... it's a 5K... the first mile always feels like I have the legs and body of Svetlana Masterkova. And then the second mile hits and I realize I actually have this body and legs:

I know. I use this pic a lot. 

But the resemblance is uncanny, don't you think?

I came through the first mile in 7:13. Which, I was pretty happy with. I kept moving and kept focusing on not backing off the pace too bad. But when I hit the mile 2 mile marker, I saw that my watch read: 8:07. Wow. I thought to myself. I have REALLY fallen off pace. And I started to pick it up, in an effort to not run another 8 minute mile.

The course was great. It was slightly uphill with a headwind on the way out, which meant that it was slightly downhill with a tailwind on the way to the finish. There wasn't really anyone around me, but up ahead of me, I saw a friend that always runs with The KoB's Tuesday morning group. She was jogging along the side of the course and I kept thinking to myself. OH MY GOD. She is jogging, (she wasn't racing) and I am not going to be able to catch up with her. But, I did, and she told me focus on the guy up ahead of me and I got a little boost from catching up to her. Finally, I could see the 3 mile mark. There was a woman pretty far ahead of me, but I knew she was fast and I really wanted to close the gap on her. I tried. I passed the 3 mile mark and saw that my watch read a 6:39. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Yeah right. BUT, it was at that point, that I knew the markers were effed and that I actually had a chance to PR! I saw The KoB come out on the course and I thought, oh thank god! He's going to pace me in. But he gave me a weird look and just kept running past me. (Apparently, he thought I was throwing him dagger eyes, when they were really... my shocked that I'm running so well eyes. I am a difficult woman to read). 

Clearly, the only tangents I'm good at

are the verbal kind.

I saw the finish line and just tried to run as hard as I possibly could.  I crossed the line with a shiny new 5K PR: 22:42.

 The Run Bitches Post Race.

I PRed, and Melissa and Tanya both took home MONEY!

And Cheryl was there supporting us and

was kind enough to spare us some

righteous schooling by NOT racing that day.

That bitch is in shape right now.

 Somehow I always manage to look like a hobo after races.

And I may have JUST BARELY beaten a bitch 

PUSHING A STROLLER.

But, still, first place, bitches!

I got an age group award, The KoB ran well and got an age group award. Bitches took home some money. And all-in-all it was just a really nice day and a great race. 5K PRs are hard to come by, yo.

 

Race Report: Rock and Road Marathon Relay

We will take any chance we get to 

wear our shirts and be obnoxious.

Trust.

For this second year of the Bitch Relay the bitches came into the race feeling a little weak. For one, there were just more all female teams this year and two, a couple of the bitches were feeling like they wouldn't be able run as well as they had last year. 

So, instead of strutting around cocky and whatnot, we kinda slinked around before the race, looking for tape to cover up the "Schooling" on the back of shirts.

"Bitches Since 2012"

Seemed fitting.

We outwardly decided that we would just have fun and not worry about our times.... but, I think internally, all the bitches were planning on doing some schooling in whatever way they could this year.

 Obvi.

Melissa Bitch started us out again and basically ran the same as she did last year. LIKE A BOSS. Then she proceeded to actually PUT the house arrest tracker on me FOR ME:

Run 8 miles on a hellacious course and then

BEND DOWN to put the tracker on me?

Now, that's bitch teamwork.

Last year, I ran my 8 mile trail section in 1:30. My goal for this year, was to beat that time. After the first 10 minutes or so, my heart rate finally settled down and I felt like I was able to run "fast." It felt like I was running 7:45s on the trails, but I was still getting passed by EVERYONE.

 Meanwhile, back at the bitch base:

I have no idea what the fuck was going on.

I kept pushing and running as hard as I could, while still being careful on the trails. To be fair, the trails were in GREAT shape. I ALMOST had fun out there.

I ended up finishing my leg in 1:24!!!!!

A 6 minute PR for an 8 mile leg!

And then I died. 

This is exactly how I felt.

I was thrilled to be done with my leg. I quickly changed clothes, took some shots of bourbon!!!! and was just fucking relieved to be done with racing for the day.

The KoB. Cheering.

Coach Bitch came flying down the hill and into the exchange with an AWESOME time. And she handed off to Cheryl while the rest of us made our way over to the finish line.

Bitches in transition.

Schooling, etc.

It was at this point that we realized we might be in contention for 3rd place again. We all anxiously awaited Cheryl's arrival to the finish line (and by anxiously awaited, I mean, we shoved wraps and cookies down our pie holes and bragged on ourselves). We saw her come in looking STRONG and we finished the race with almost the exact time we had last year!

Bitches be schooling.

Turns out not only did Cheryl have to run her ass off to finish, but she had to deal with another female team CUTTING the course and getting in front of her. Bitches don't take kindly to cheaters, so of course Cheryl plowed them over and secured the bitches a 3rd place win!!!!

Bitches 4Eva!

It was a fun day. The Sonsabitches came out to cheer and support us (thanks Jeff for taking photos!) and we surprised ourselves by kicking ass*.

*Why that was a surprise, I have no idea.

Race Report: Heroes in Recovery 6K

A couple of months ago, I spotted a race flyer with alpacas on it

Ummm. Best race poster EVER?

After finding out that there is an alpaca farm along the race course, I immediately put the race on my calendar. Because... ALPACAS... OBVIOUSLY.

As the race date grew near, I started to wonder about the actual course and was a little disappointed when I heard about this big ass hill:

At least there's a good downhill. Groan.

But, despite the hilly course, the random race distance, and the 35 minute drive to the race, I stayed firm in my decision about the race because... ALPACAS... OBVIOUSLY.

On Saturday morning I drove out to the race which is located in a little town full of horse farms and rich people. It was a beautiful morning. Cool and bright. I warmed up a little on the race course and to be completely honest, wasn't feeling good about my racing capabilities that morning. But, I lined up in the chute with friends and was like.. well... at least there are ALPACAS on the course.

I'm not going to bore you with a play-by-play of the race, but I do want to mention a few things:

1. Cheryl and I were getting ready to pass a woman very early in the race and she teased us: "This is a no passing zone, ladies." And as we passed her, all I could think about was... "well, if you'd speed the fuck up, I wouldn't have to pass you." Luckily, I didn't say this.

2. At the turn around point, I heard someone at the water stop tell the "no passing zone" lady that she was 3rd female. Ummmm... Whhhhhaaat?

3. After climbing the big hill and recovering from climbing the big hill, I was starting to feel like I was in a groove. By the turn around point, I was picking out people in front of me to pass.

4. I told myself that when I got to the 5K mark I was just going to go ALL OUT the last kilometer. 

5. I hit the 5K mark at 23:56 (7:43 pace) and then flipped into overdrive.

6. With about a half mile to go some guy spectator told me I was the 3rd female and I was sure that he was mistaken, but just in case he wasn't, I ran even faster.

Schooling.

7. I saw The KoB who had just finished 2nd overall come out to meet with about a quarter of a mile left and he helped me go into overoveroverdrive.

8. I finished the race in 28:13 (7:35 pace).

9. 3rd overall woman.

10. Clearly, there wasn't much competition... and while it was a little embarrassing that I came in third, I was also pretty freaking excited about it.. because, THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN TO ME. 

We were standing around after the race and overheard someone who had just finished saying.. "I NEED ROOM TEMPERATURE WATER." We all kinda looked at each other, like... uhhh... ok. 

A few minutes later we realized who that was:

Number 32 in the white sports bra to the left?

Yeah, that's Ashley Judd. 

 THIS Ashley Judd.

To be fair, she was yelling about the room temperature water to someone with her, not race volunteers. It was still pretty damn funny though. Anyway, she seemed nice and stuck around for the awards, etc. And yes, I schooled that bitch.

We hung around for the awards and because when I'm lucky, I'm REALLY lucky... I won a door prize... ALPACA SOCKS!

A smug KoB picking up his prize.

 Umm. The KoB doesn't hold tiny little bags

by their tiny little handles.

Probably the only time in my life I'll win an overall prize and 

this is the only photographic evidence I have.

It looks like I'm asking where the bathroom is.

FFS.

After the awards we ran out for a cool down which was really just an excuse to go visit the ALPACAS.

They were just chilling in the barn overhang.

Alpacas near the trees.

So, it was basically the perfect day: I placed overall, The KoB placed overall, I won a door prize, we beat a celebrity, and ALPACAS... OBVIOUSLY.

Race Report: Smyrna Parks 5K

It has been well documented here that I hate 5Ks.

The Reasons I hate 5Ks:
1. I am lazy and oh so happy in my comfort zone.
2. I am slow.

The 5K is my least favorite distance to race. To me, the 5K is the most technical of racing. There's no time for thinking or getting into a groove. The gun goes off and you just gotta fly. I have a couple of theories of why I'm so bad at racing 5Ks.

The Reasons I suck at 5Ks:
1. The extra 15-20 pounds that I am constantly lugging around the race course.
2. I have no athletic ability whatsoever.

In my mind, you have to be FIT and naturally talented to be a good runner at the 5K distance. I am neither of those. Also, it probably helps to do targeted speedwork for that distance and I've never done that. MAYBE ONE DAY (not).

No matter, I do think it's valuable to race the damn things occasionally even if it's always a soul-crushing, ego debiliatating disaster everytime. Which is why I found myself at the start line of one on Saturday morning. Let's just add humidity of 1000% to the mix for fun, guys! CHRIST.

I got to the race a little later than I had liked (dude. Smyrna is FAR) and was scrambling to sign up, get my race number on and have time for a warm up. If there is one thing I've learned it's that I HAVE to have a good warmup for a 5K. There is no way my little midget length legs can get any kind of turnover when they are cold. So, I like to get at least a 2 mile warm up in.

Remember this selfie?

I started my warm up and immediately ran into The KoB, we ran for a little bit and then ran into our friend Jeff. So the three of us jogged around, gossiped, and engaged in the normal pre-race nervous chit-chat. By the time we stopped, I was already tired. I realized that I probably ran my warm-up a wee bit fast. I don't know what we were running, but it felt like 8:30/8:45 pace (which... uhhh.. is pretty fast to me these days). Crap. I left them to do a couple of strides on my own (hi coach! I did strides!) and then lined up for the start.

As always, the first mile felt decent. I had no idea what pace I was running, but when I came through the first mile marker at 7:20, I started thinking... Hmmm... maybe I got this. MAYBE I can actually PR. And then 2 minutes later the pain hit.

There were no photos posted of me.

So, I made this illustration. 

Drawn to scale, obvi.

Party's over! Instead of giving into that feeling of death, I tried to push harder, not wanting to give up on my pace. My second mile was 7:40. At that point, I knew a PR was not likely, but I wanted to get as close as possible.

Here's a pic of The KoB. OF COURSE his photo was posted.
AND he's all photogenic and shit. I can only assume that my
photos weren't posted because I looked like a dying, flailing idiot.

The third mile marker was wayyyyy off (uhhh yeah, I didn't run a 6:20 mile), but with my finish time, I must have come in around 7:30. My finish time was a 23:18. Not a PR, but not too shabby considering it was August AND I'm not really in shape right now.

In the end, I actually think a quicker warm-up was good for me. If I had been running on my own, I would have definitely been running a 9:30ish pace. I would have been afraid that running any faster would tire me out. But, I think running faster than that (but not TOO fast) was good to get my legs ready to race.*

Another age group award (woot!) and a good confidence boost going into some tough marathon training (I have given up at calendar math, but I assume it starts soon). 

Hold up! There IS a pic of me. Ugh.

Identity of innocent bystander blurred by me

to protect her from being associated with my

dumb ass blog.

*I realize this paragraph makes no fucking sense. What I'm trying to say is... the faster warm-up was a good idea.

Race Report: Goodlettsville Classic 4 Mile

When I was a kid one of my favorite things to do was to go to the park. There was a park about 10-15 minutes away from our house that had a kick ass playground and possibly more importantly: a long, paved loop to ride our bikes. (I grew up in the sticks. There were no roads to ride bikes on, so I just circled our little parking area/driveway over and over again).

It had your typical slides...

Also had a wagon with horses on springs that you could ride.

Giddy-up, bitches.

And of course, your typical aluminum benches for photo ops.

Thankfully, there was no instagram or twitter back then.

(Those Nike's look just like my orthopedic Vomeros!)

But most importantly, it had THE BIG SLIDE:

Obviously, I never rode down it by myself because it was high and fast as shit

 and also because it got your backside all dirty.

But, my dad could pretty much convince me to do anything.

I have a lot of good memories of that park. And so when the 4 mile race that they host comes around every year, I always try to sign up. It's always hot as balls and I'm always in terrible shape,but it's a fun distance to race in a park that I have very fond memories of.

This Saturday, I met Melissa Bitch at the park for the race. We ran a little warm-up and my goal was to run a race that had my average pace start with a 7 (I was going to be happy with anything as long as it was a 7:xx). I knew this was going to hurt. I hadn't really raced in awhile and I haven't been doing anything fast lately except for drinking lots of beer. LOTS. 

I had no idea what was going to happen. Nothing like lining up to a race and not know whether you're going to run 8:00 splits or 10:00 splits! The first mile felt pretty decent and I came in a little fast at 7:33. I thought to myself, okay: a little fast, but as long as you keep your next 3 splits under 8, you'll be fine. Mile 2 clicked by (7:41) and I was kind of surprised at how I felt. I mean, it felt hard. Really hard. But, I didn't feel like I was going to collapse and die at any moment. I was thinking, well maybe I can even pick it up a little in the last mile. By the time I hit the 3 mile mark (7:56), I was starting to feel like I wasn't going to collapse and die, but that I was going to puke all over myself and pass out. I was slowing, but still pushing. I ran the last mile in 7:58 and finished with a shiny new 4 mile PR (31:11) and an average pace that makes me feel pretty damn good about starting marathon training.

Sure the race looks like a shit-show on paper, but my take-aways are:

1. Eating lots of marshmallows and drinking lots of beer on the weekends has resulted in weight gain, but thankfully hasn't affected my speed TOO much. 

2. I schooled all the bitches in my age group. 1st place, bitches!

3. I accomplished my goal of never having a mile go over 8:00, even though I came REALLY close on that last mile. Eek.

4. I ran on feel, I didn't wear my garmin and I just pushed my way through based on what was available to me at the time.

5. I successfully turned a race day into my long run! I always have intentions for that, but usually end up bailing early on the cool down. Thanks to Melissa, I got my full 10 miles for the week.

6. I've got a little bit of confidence now to start my marathon training. 

Sadly, I didn't go down the big slide (it's still a little high for me, truth be told) but I still got that warm and fuzzy feeling running around the park that morning. (Mainly because the humidity was about a zillion percent).

Race Report: Purity Moosic City 10K

I signed up for this race almost immediately after the Birmingham Marathon. It was like... okay, well, I've got all this fitness saved up... why not race a 10K and see what happens? And then the 2 months between the two races happened and I got busy at work, fell in love with a dog, and ran one 5K that hurt like hell and resulted in a PR and another 5K that felt better, but wasn't a PR. The week before this 10K I was totally regretting signing up for this race.

The thing is... a 10K is HARD. It's like almost as hard as a 5K, but you have to go twice the distance. (Impressive math, no)? Then the friday before the race I started to get a little excited. I mean, there was a good chance for a PR. My 10K PR was a little soft and I texted The KoB on Friday night and told him that my goal was to run under a 48:00. (My PR being 49:33). I came up with a plan. To start out around 8:00 pace for a few miles and then whittle my way down. If I raced smart, that would give me an automatic PR and didn't sound too frighteningly hard.

Saturday morning was beautiful. I parked and started my warm up and ran into fellow bitches, Tanya and Cheryl. We warmed up together and I was honestly not feeling all that good about my goal. My legs didn't feel as fresh as I would have liked, but I figured I could still PR.

Last year I started the race wayyyyy too fast and it came back to bite me in the ass. This year, I started off faster than I originally wanted to, but not like a bat straight out of hell.

My first mile was 7:34 and as soon as I saw that split, I adjusted my goal: No mile splits that start with an 8. I had used this similar goal in Tucson for the half, and it had worked then. For me, it's hard to grasp the ups and downs of a race, no matter how small. If my goal is to hit a specific pace and I don't hit it, it's mentally frustrating. But, if I give myself a range. Like... don't go over 7:59, then it's a lot more relaxing for my brain. And honestly, I think it makes me race harder. Spoiler alert: IT WORKED THIS TIME, TOO!

A Tale of Two Races:

Bwhahahaha. Crash and burn Amy was alive and well in 2012.

The thing is, I never really HURT until the last mile or so. I mean sure it was challenging and I was pushing hard, but I felt like I was in control until the last mile. It was a great feeling. And yeah, I came in under 48:00. How about 46:21? BOOM. Third place in my age group, too.

This was the race that I had been wanting. I finally got my race day. I felt great, my fitness was there and now I have a shiny new 10K PR.

Race Report: Runnin' to Beat The Blues 5K

Somewhere out there, there is a photo of me posing with this guy:

 

And, I'm kind of an sensitive asshole, I realize, but as someone who has

dealt with depression in the past, I find it a little

too "jokey" to have a mascot for the Mental Health Association 

in the first place, but one that is a fucking duck with a

band-aid on it's head (WTF?) 

and a life preserver around it's neck? Ugh.*

Why is there a picture of me with the giant duck? Because, I schooled some bitches and came in 2nd in my Age Group!

When I first signed up for this race, I was excited. Yayyyy a short race! Yayyyy the potential to PR. But fast forward to Tuesday when I was doing a tempo workout in the same park that hosted the race and all I could think about was... Fuuuuuuck. Why did I sign up to run a 5K? Ugh.

Thankfully, The KoB offered to keep me honest pace me and I showed up to the race, feeling pretty good body and leg-wise. But, just not in a good headspace.

The thing is... (and yes, I know I say this everytime after a 5K)... I just don't have the mental strength to push through the kind of intensity that a 5K calls for. I attribute that to becoming a runner as an adult (instead of running track in high school, etc), to never training for anything shorter than a half marathon, and to just being kind of a pansy in general. So, while the first mile feels FANTASTIC and I start dreaming of mile splits that start with a 6... by the 3rd mile I sound like I'm going into cardiac arrest and can barely manage to hang on to a split that starts with an 8.

I was disappointed with my finish (WHAT ELSE IS NEW?). But, as the day went on, the disappointment faded and I was just happy to have a PR! One day, I will commit to training for a 5K. I will get tougher and be able to push through the deathlike feelings of the 3rd mile. Until that day, I'm happy with chipping away at my times, little by little.

22:51 (Sub 23! Woo!).

Mile splits (according to my garmin, so a wee bit faster than reality because of tangents,etc):

Mile 1: 7:03

Mile 2: 7:06

Mile 3: 7:31

I think according to the KoB's watch, they were more like 7:10s the first couple of miles. 

Anyway... a PR is a PR and an age group award on top of that? Icing, baby.

*Nonetheless, when I realized that they were giving away stuffed ducks as prizes, I was super stoked! I waited around for the awards, only to be handed a medal. The stuffed animals were only for the kids. GODDAMMIT.

Race Report: The Rock and Road Marathon Relay

Percy Warner Park in October. Nothing like it.

So, as I've mentioned before, a group of us have taken to referring to ourselves as The Run Bitches. It's only fitting. I refer to myself and pretty much all my girlfriends as bitches (affectionately, of course) and I also refer to all other women that I don't like as bitches (offensively, of course). 

The Run Bitches officially started putting on clinics and schooling bitches back in Santa Rosa. 

What do Run Bitches do when they aren't schooling?

They fucking drink!

(Yes, we coordinate our outfits. This is our Run Bitches in Denim look.

What?)

And, it's not enough to go around schooling bitches separately. We wanted to school some bitches as a team. So we signed up for a local relay. The Rock and Road Marathon Relay. Aptly named because you run on the road, on the trails, and on the grass. 

 BOOM! Matching shirts!

Yes indeed (these two photos blatantly stolen from Elly Foster.

Elly, I'm sorry. I'm going to send you check at some point

for all these race photos I steal from you.)

The end. Haha. No, surprisingly, the shirts aren't the best part. 

So, the race. Essentially, all of the legs of the race suck:

The first leg (The Classic) was 8 miles and you had the joys of running up 9 mile hill and 3 mile hill. Eek. Not fun. Thanks Melissa! She pretty much killed this leg and schooled bitches left and right.

Bitches gonna get schooled.

The Second leg (The Admiral) was 8 miles on the trails. This was my leg and where I pretty much pissed away all the hard work that Melissa did on the first leg. WEAKEST LINK! Seriously, though, I was automatically tagged with this leg because of my trail "experience." But, what the bitches didn't realize was that my "experience" translates to lollygagging on the trails. Not fucking RACING the trails. Nonetheless, I ran as hard as I could.

And then I drank as hard as I could.

Being a Run Bitch ain't easy.

The Third leg (The Tennessean) was a 5 mile jaunt starting straight UP the backside of 3 mile hill, with some fun getting up to Luke Lea Heights and for shits and giggles some white trail shittiness. Coach nailed her leg and left a wake of schooled bitches.

 Run Bitch!

I love this picture. Coach is worried about her fucking time

and Cheryl's like, give me the goddamn ankle-home-arrest-thingy, I gots to go!

The Fourth leg (The Horseman. Seriously? Who the fuck came up with these names?) was 5 miles of running straight up the red trail for a bit over to the cross country course and then got to loop around in the grass to the finish line. Yay, for Cheryl and her Kenyan kick! If I'd had the 4th leg, I'd already been drunk as shit AND lost.

Again... Run Bitch!

And... time to celebrate.

Oh yeah.

That's bourbon in the cup and in the water bottle.

The Run Bitches take their running and their alcohol seriously.

Turns out the Run Bitches came in as the 3rd Female Team Overall! BOOM! It also turns out that the other women racers didn't really find our shirts funny... BUT the guys did. I swear every guy who saw me with the shirt on made a comment about it. THEY'RE FUNNY, people. It's not meant to be offensive or pompous or arrogant. I mean... we did school bitches, so there is that. 

Anyway, for our award we won homemade ashtrays* (that I forgot to take a picture of) and a pair of swiftwick socks! Boom!

Run Bitches are 1-0 and currently looking for other races to wear our shirts, run, and then get drunk at. If anyone knows of any good relays for 4-6 people, let us know!

*So, they aren't actually ashtrays. They are actually soap holders? Or business card holders? I dunno. They look cool, but mine's just kinda sitting on a shelf right now. WHO FUCKING CARES, WE SCHOOLED BITCHES AND WON!

Race Report: Tin Cup Challenge Marathon

The race started at 6:30, so, after an early wake up call, we walked over to the start line. It was a beautiful morning with overcast skies. The race was small, so there were only a few of us runners milling around and waiting in line for the porta johns. Let it be noted that even though he was getting ready to run a freaking marathon, KoB was helping the race crew set up the finish line. Seriously. While the rest of us were just standing around watching.

With little fanfare, the race started at exactly 6:30. I have few memories of the first 6 miles except that I felt like absolute dog shit. I blamed the altitude, I blamed the slight uphill that we were battling for those first 6 miles, and I blamed the two dudes behind me carrying on a sad conversation. It sucked. I had a slight headache and I felt super fatigued.

Spoiler alert: Pretty much all those bitches behind me ended up schooling me.

For comparison, it looks like KoB was having a good first 6 miles:

Please note that KoB is not even glancing in the direction of the hot chick.

Around the 6 mile marker we turned off the main road and it was like someone flipped a switch. We started to hit some rolling hills and countryside, and I started to feel better and better. It was at this point that I started thinking... hmmm... maybe I have it in me to PR today. (Nevermind the fact that I hadn't trained to PR, that I was running at about 6,000 ft higher elevation that I'm used to, or that the course was pretty grueling).

*****

Now, I interrupt this race report for a little heart-to-heart, dear readers. I read a LOT of running blogs. Some really good ones that I actually enjoy and respect and then some that I kinda "hate read". And the blogs that I "hate read" fall into two categories:

1. Bitches who are apparently just naturally talented at running and who just fucking love running and never have anything bad to say about it, because running is awesome and they are awesome and so they come up with these amazing PRs at like every freaking race. They eat and drink like shit, run all their training runs at race pace and never struggle during races.

2. Bitches who barely train for shit and somehow magically PR at every freaking race.

WTF? I am so insanely jealous of both of these types of bloggers/runners. Who are these people and how do they do it? I can honestly say I have never gone to a race and just "magically PRed," and I've never been able to PR at a race where I didn't have to train hard beforehand and then struggle my ass off during the race. Yet, for whatever reason, I still read these goddamn blogs and I still think during races... ohhhhh.. maybe I'll PR, too! Maybe I'll be just like those runners and just magically bust out a PR or some shit. 

REALITY CHECK: It's not going to happen. Whatever PRs I get, I'm going to have to train and struggle for. Ugh.

*****

Regardless of my PR delusions, I was feeling really good for miles 6-11ish. The course was beautiful and full of lots of little out-n-backs, so I got to see the same damn people every 10 minutes or so. It was looking like I was going to be at the half-way point at around 2:05-7ish. This seemed perfect. I knew that the last 6 miles of the race were a gradual downhill and I knew that I had taken it easy enough so far and had a good enough base, that I should have been able to pick it up and take advantage of those last miles. I was pretty confident that I could break 4:12.

But around mile 12, my stomach started to feel weird. Lucky for me, one of only 2 porta johns on the course was stationed right around mile 12/13. And TMI alert: it was at that porta john that I discovered another reason why I felt like shit for those first 6 miles. I had started my freaking period. DURING the race. This has never, ever happened to me. I've never even started my period during a run before. So then I had a mini-freakout session in the porta john. I mean, obviously, it's not that big of a deal, except that I was uhhh.. a little unprepared for this during a race. But, there wasn't anything I could do about it, so, I just started running again.

Mentally, this whole Period thing kinda fucked with my head a little. I wish I just hadn't realized it, because for the next 3-4 miles all I could think about was... Oh shit. I started my period. Oh shit. Are those cramps? Oh shit. My legs ache. Oh shit. My head hurts. Finally, I just let the whole thing go and stopped worrying about it. 

It was around mile 15 that I got to see KoB on an out and back part of the course. Right around here:

Best Race Pic EVER.

As he got closer, we exchanged pleasantries and I made no mention to him that the 3rd place dude (the bearded, lumberjack fella in the group pic with the hot chick above) was pretty far ahead of him. 

Yaaaaaay Marathons!

While KoB stalked down the number 3 guy, I started taking walk breaks and feeling shitty. I kept watching my time and I was getting frustrated that my miles were getting slower and slower. My PR dreams were slowly fading.

For once in a race pic, I actually look like I'm running.

Courtesy of a sweet downhill.

It was also getting quite sunny and the water stations seemed to be further and further apart. 

Even though my dreams of a PR were LONG gone, I still wanted to try and take advantage of the gradual downhill for the last 6 miles, so I started to pick it up. I took shorter walk breaks and ran faster. I was starting to get really, really thirsty. But, I was feeling much better.

Until mile 24ish, when my stomach started acting up again. At first this was terrible timing, because we were on a main road with NO trees. And then... like a mirage... I saw the only other porta john on the entire course!!!! After a few minutes in there, I popped out feeling like a brand new woman.

The last two miles I ran my ass off. I pushed and ran hard and was feeling decent. And before I knew it, I saw the finish line.

I'm certain I would have PRed had I had #22.

After getting my picture taken, I saw KoB standing there with a cup of water for me. I had a slow ass finish time. But, I didn't give a shit. I had finished a marathon in 2012.

And... guess what? KoB came in 3rd overall!!!
(Maybe the overall winner can now afford clothes that actually fit an adult).

First race of the weekend down. Time to pack up and head to Montana...