2.  Earache

3.  Music to My Ears

Son 1 aged 4 up in the night with his sore throat and raging temperature.  Called for me at 1230.  I went in and told him off for waking me up “Mummy’s going to be poorly if she doesn’t get some sleep soon.”  He needed Ibuprofen but it was downstairs and I was too tired to get out of his bed.  He woke again at 0130 and down I padded to get it. I gave it to him and we both fell asleep in his single bed, with me getting up at 6.  Son 1 woke when I was in the shower, and was over-tired, fractious, whiney and tearful.  We decided against the New Nursery.  He’s only 4, and Wonder Nanny is now here on Mondays.  Son 1 didn’t care about that.  He just wanted me to stay home.

But I had to leave early  because I had an important Out-of-Office meeting first thing.  I was picking up a colleague and then driving across The Big Town to get there.  New black suit (I took the trousers up last night = a Good Thing)  and three inch heels.  I felt almost pre-baby.  Had a call at The Office from Wonder Nanny. When did Son 1 last have Calpol because he was complaining that his ear hurt.  Son 1 came on the phone. “Are you all right?” “No. I’m not. I want you.”  I raced through my work and sorted out a pile to do at home.  I got back mid-afternoon.  Both boys were asleep.  Son 2 aged 13m woke, came downstairs with Wonder Nanny, sat in my arms and clapped, smiling.  Son 1 woke while I was trying to do some work and make some phone calls, pushed away my pile of papers and sat on my lap crying.  

The Man is planning Business Trips this week and next - during my week off.  I am trying to be positive and reasonable.   Son 1 says his ear hurts when he yawns.  The Man’s going to have to take him to the doctor tomorrow.    I went for a run. Full moon, but I ran down to the bridge over the river;  street-lit all the way so very little chance to enjoy the moonlight.  I resurrected the radio I used to run with BC.  New batteries, and I popped it into the money belt I always wore to carry it.  Ah.  The waist strap needed letting out two inches.  Hmph.  However. It was great to have music and company.  And I’ve been out twice in three days.

I. Feel. AMAZING.

I spent fifteen minutes stretching, then grabbed my iPod with Robert Ullrey's podcast for running ready to play, and chose a direction. Thirty minutes later, I climbed back up the driveway, poured a glass of water, and have been breathing and stretching and marveling at how awesome I feel for the last twenty minutes.

The key this time was the music. Ullrey chose dance mixes and tracks with a very heavy beat, to help novices like me keep our pace consistent. As a result, I found that I shortened my stride (and thus had an easier time keeping my ankles and knees soft), and worried less about distance than form. My posture was great, my torso and arms weren't too tense, and I felt strong and controlled rather than full of flail. And for the first time in my life, I had no trouble remembering a heel-to-toe step pattern. (I began formal ballet training as a toddler, five years before joining sports teams. The memory recall of "run like a lady, run en pointe!" drowned out the bellowing of every soccer and baseball coach I played for, but today I found that it's impossible to run on one's toes while taking short strides.) I'm sure I still *looked* like a fool, but frankly I feel too great to care.

You can take a look at the route I followed via my page at mapmyrun.com (just click the graphic below) - Nicole, I'm sure you'll be well familiar with every stride of it.

Off to the shower -- and VERY much looking forward to Wednesday!

Longtime readers with exceptional memories may recall that I track my mileage on the http://exercise.lbl.gov site, which doesn't have much going for it other than that it shows you a picture of where you are on a virtual transcontinental run (or walk, or bike). I'm 1,917.4 miles in from the start point in Yorktown, Virgina, which means I've finally made it through Kansas. I've been in Kansas since the end of April, and if you're guessing that the pictures haven't been that interesting, then you're guessing right. As best I can tell, I am now about 500 feet from crossing into Colorado. That illegible sign in the picture probably says "I don't think we're in Kansas any more". (If you guessed I couldn't make it through this post without a Wizard of Oz reference, you guessed right again.)

My goal 3:45,  conservative, I ran my first marathon last year a 3:49 in NYC on a  harder course, plus now I am  stronger and fitter. I thought maybe I could even do closer to 3:40. I decided to run with a pace team, the pace being 8:35. At the start the temperature was 64º and we immediately entered a tunnel which was about 10 degrees hotter and it was hard to breath. The pacers went out way too fast, the first mile was 8:01, the second 8:15 and at the 10K mark we had 1 minute 20 seconds in the bank, not a good idea. I decided to back off from them at about the same time two women joined me and we decided to run together all with similar goals. I started to feel like this is a little too tough so early in the marathon, I passed the 9 mile mark, rounded a curve and just before the 10 mile mark I saw the bank clock, 85º. Oh, God, and it is less than 1.5 hours into the marathon. This scared me a bit and maybe psychologically pulled me down, but I kept thinking 3:45, 3:45.

At the 1/2 marathon mark I came across a cluster of very fit, very thin tall 20-30 year men with 3:10 pace on their shirts,  all walking, there were 3:20's, 3:30's, 3:40's and 3:45's and even some 3:00's around me, all walking. There was a girl who passed out on the side of the road being fanned by strangers, a man vomiting on the other side of the street, another getting a cramped massaged out of his leg. At mile 14 I should have been at 2:08, but I was at 2:10. I thought maybe I could make 3:50, but before I knew it the 3:50 paces passed me up, with almost no one in their group. At mile 16 I wanted to cry or walk, I thought if I get to the water station I will walk through it as I drink my gatorade, I did. Then I ran water station to water station. At first I walked through the gatorade, then ran to the water and drink it. By mile 20 I walked through the gatorade, and the water, but mile 24 as I was looking for my family I thought I may not even make it under 4:00 hours so what is the use, I will stop and chat and maybe just leave to go eat pancakes, but I did not find them so I kept running. Just before mile 25 I wanted to walk so bad I thought, I will run faster to get to the water station, I ran a 8:15, oh good water. Then on to mile 26, my sisters came running out, I got my legs moving from a dismal 9:30 to a 9:00, then as I rounded the corner to the finish line, I checked my watch, 3:57, I had to get there before 4:00, I ran as fast as I possibly could. I did not look at my watch, believe me it was slow, but I just had to get across that line, I did 3:58. Oh what a horror, people down everywhere, people vomiting everywhere.  I hear a wonderful familiar voice call my name, my teammates where laying in fetal position on their heat shields under a tree. Three were unaccounted for. One super strong runner had dropped out at mile 20 and was held at the medical tent for 2 hours, two others we were unaccounted for.  It was a hard day.

But unbeleivable three of my Front Runner teammates got PR's. One Peter McGrane got his first sub 3:00, what a monster, also Mike Terry and FaTai got PR's! Most of us where 10-20 minutes off our time, it sucked.

So today, one day after the marathon I will cross train with either deep water running or swimming I am not sure yet. I just want to be stronger. I have three weeks until the NYC marathon, maybe there I will get my PR, but with only three weeks, I have one to rest, one to workout and one to taper. We shall see...

Tävlingssäsongen har i och med Hässelbyloppet äntligen tagit slut. På själva tävlingsdagen valde jag att inte vara med trots att jag var anmäld utan tränade med Tony istället. Vi letade upp bra backar att springa intervaller i och provade dem. Två stycken riktigt långa och jobbiga backar på uppvärmningsavstånd hittades. Den ena var, om jag inte hörde Tony fel, "grönjävlig", vilket såklart måste vara något positivt när det handlar om backar.

Det sköna är att nu kan man äntligen ta itu med träningen till nästa säsong. Då är det dags att slå lite personbästan och göra tider man inte behöver skämmas för så mycket.

A unique feature of this race is that the start is signified by the firing of a canon – at this point I’d like to say this race should NOT be run by people prone to fright or heart attacks since I almost jumped out of my skin, being unprepared for how a canon sounds from roughly 10 metres away.

Pushing hard from about the 5km mark I managed to come in at 51 minutes although I could feel I had pushed it and felt mildly nauseas when I was done, something which hasn’t happened to me since school Physed classes.

After the race I was chatting to an older gentleman who had also done the 10km run and who had come in at 46 minutes, he was 76 years old!! This reminded me of WHY I run and one of my motivations for having started on this journey which has resulted in me loving the sport and trying to persuade other people to start running too.

My next race is the Grape Run which is the first half marathon I ever did. I anticipate it being rather emotional but I’m excited to see how much I have improved in a year, on the same course.

Ok, my running's been OK. I ran in Dallas a few weeks ago and ran a 5k in 24:50 which is lame... but it's right about the 8:03/mile mark I have been stuck at for some time. I got second place overall for women and first in my age group with that bad time though. Not many 23 year old chick runners around White Rock these days...?

A good thing about running is all the stuff I find while I run. Behold, in the last month alone I have found:
1. Perfectly good cell phone
2. One Goosebumps book - "Monster Blood III" - good condition
3. One (1) Black Sharpie Marker.

So why do I run? With all this stuff laying around, how could I not. ...? More later

Saturday morning was the Guns N Hoses 5K, and we were up at 6:30. Adam ran the whole thing with me, which was a sweet surprise, and we finished in 31:15. Afterward, we met up with Lesley and John and walked to the fall market. Lesley and I drank coffee, and we people watched and talked. The rest of the day was spent very lazily -- napping, watching Leatherheads, sitting outside and throwing the ball for Penny. We ate grilled cheese and lots of ice cream.

We also learned this weekend that our little cat likes to hide out in the hamper. She can get inside, and no one (ahem, the dog) disturbs her. She likes to make forts (does anyone else's cat do this?), so this is the ultimate in hiding spots.

Quite a few times, up to the 4 mile mark, I had to make myself slow down a bit as I felt like I was pushing myself a bit too much.  I got to a mile from home and just kept the pressure on, I knew this would be tough as there are two rises, the last being quite nasty.

Or possibly I wasn't listening to the right things on my radio. A soon to be published study finds that listening to music can impove endurance by 15% or more. Two weeks ago I listened to an old trance album. This time I listened to the news on NPR. I can see it making a difference. I still like listening to NPR, though.

I arrived in Warren on Friday at noon. Pa and I went and got gas and then rode through the wooded part of the next day's run. As we started down the narrow tree lined forest road the nerves started to set in a little bit. At the end of the rode I met what I thought was going to be the hardest part of the run. The steepest hill of the course. It was right at the end of mile 5 after the cross across the dam. 

Pa said that it would be fine and I agree and talked myself down with the fact that I would be coming off of a really steep down hill before I tackled the hill. The ride back down the road was all about Pa keeping my nerves at bay. I kept saying things like well that was a gradual hill or something like that. 

After the ride the nerves disappeared. For the time being. Friday night was spent going to Wal-Mart with Ma and then the Homecoming football game with her too. I had a really great pumpkin spice cappuccino from the Kwik Fill that I took with me! 

To keep a long story from getting any longer, I'll just say, sleep was not easy Friday night. I got a solid four hours and then I started waking up to go to the bathroom. Nervous stomach. I think I was up for an hour and a half straight from about 4:30 on until I actually got up and got dressed. 

I ate my everything bagel with honey peanut butter and had a bottle of water for breakfast. Then I mixed up my water bottle concoction of Powerade and diet coke. I drank a glass of it and poured the rest into a water bottle that my mom would carry to the three places she was going to watch from.

Then at 7:30 it was finally time to go. My heart was racing as Pa and I loaded into his car to head to the Y. Down there, there were all these people going into the building. They looked so experienced. Granted I have the clothes and have been training but some of these people just looked more prepared than I did I thought. 

We picked up our participant T-shirts and powerbar they gave us. Dad ate his. I thought I might throw it up if I tried. I saved it for after. Not to mention I knew I had just the right amount of food in me to be comfortable running anyway.

Dad knew a lot of people waiting in the lobby. Many of them kept asking about his marathon next weekend. I just kept quiet and tried to loosen up. I made a couple trips to the bathroom and paced around.

The two yellow buses pulled up in front of the building, time to go. Pa and I got on bus #2. It was freezing. It was still in the high 40's out. Not quite the weather for the shorts and T-shirt Pa was wearing. It was actually colder in the bus it seemed. I sat in the seat next to the window and just kept a steady gaze out. I was talking myself down again. 

The woman that was sitting behind us had never run the race before either but she had never been to the area before. If it was possible I'd say she had herself more psyched out than I did. I gave her my saying that for every up hill there has to be a down hill on the other side. 

The thing is that I was following that statement. I was not worried about the logistics of the course at all. It was just the idea of 13.1 miles. It's a long freaking way. I did a pretty good job of stopping myself from shaking between the cold and nerves.

We finally arrived to the beach parking lot. The other bus of people were already out and stretching and lined up for the port-a-potty. I joined the line and finished stretching and making sure my shoes were tied right. 

I jogged up to Pa on the starting line.

"Remember don't try and keep pace with me, I'm keeping pace with you." He told me. 

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1 GO!" the man in the front counted down and we were off. 

"Don't go to fast, don't go to fast..." I yelled at myself in my head. 

By the time we got to Rt. 59 I was trying to even out my breathing. I hadn't sprinted but I didn't start completely calm. I sucked in a lot of air. I spent about a mile trying to get myself to burp out the extra air I swallowed. 

I began noticing with in a few feet onto the highway that I was seeing a lot of Woolly Bears (hairy caterpillars). I started counting them. 

The trees looked amazing. They all seemed to have slightly different colored leaves, no two a like. 

Pa and I reached the first mile marker in no time at all at the top of the first hill and he said we had done about a 9 minute mile.  I was astonished. Plus I felt great. 

"Well there is that mile I've never done before" I told him.

I have only ever run 12 miles at the most.

"I figured I'd get that one out of the way and then do the 12 I have done before." He laughed and agreed that was a good idea.

Mile 2 was done at about the same pace. 3 we had slowed down just a bit, the hills were getting going a bit.

Finally we came around the bend and the Dam was in clear view and I spotted Ma standing out on it. I took my running jacket off so that all I had on was the wonderful running top that I bought. It was still cool but perfect in my opinion. I took a quick drink of the diet coke/ powerade drink and continued on with a "Good job, keep going" from Ma. 

Part one of the run done. (I had sectioned the race off into about 4 parts to keep 13.1 out of my head)

I was grinning from ear to ear as dad and I ran along the top of the dam. I was trying to take in the view that hardly anyone ever gets and I may never again (unless I run the race again). 

"I'm worried Pa, I feel really good still." I told him as we neared the end of the dam. 

I was most worried because it didn't take me the usual 2-3 miles to settle into the run that had to mean crash at the end I thought.

Oh yes, and we had been warned about the down-hill portion after the dam. It was covered in leaves, sticks and acorns. They told us to be-careful because you really can get going fast down it. They were not kidding. I have not mentioned the man that was just up ahead of us. We had been watching him from a distance. He started out pretty fast. He was wearing a big college sport winter jacket and sweat pants. The best part is that he ran with his hands in his pockets of the jacket that was unzipped. 

There was no exception to his running form on this steep hill either. Pa and I kept watching and waiting for him to go down. He never did. He had stopped and walked a few times up until this point in the race but once he had got down the hill and started up the steepest hill he began his regimen of walking up the hills and running down the other side.

"I don't care where I finish and who beats me as long as I beat him," I pointed to the man we were closing in on.

Dad ducked down into the woods for a pit stop and told me to keep going. Well, on the little section I was alone I finally passed him on an up hill. I grinned as I past him.  The hill wasn't that big and soon I was on the down side and he was zooming past me. 

"Cheater" I said under my breath. I was mad.

Finally we reached a long gradual hill. We passed him and stayed ahead of him. 

Pa and I talked occasionally, commenting on something or someone we saw. There was this woman. She had passed us on the approach to the dam. She was trying to catch up to her husband. Pa chuckled when she was just out of ear shot. Which wasn't far for how hard she huffed and puffed. 

On the wooded road we could see her up ahead. She would always be in the right spot that as we assented up a hill her bottom half was hid from view. The way she runs looked like she was sprinting the whole time. She pumped her arms back and forth so hard. As we would get up the hill it looked at first like she was running a 5 minute mile and then her lower half was in view and she was, in-reality, doing over a 9 minute mile but only slightly faster than Pa and I.

Ma met us part way down Hemlock (the wooded road) I took a long drink of my mix and she took pictures. It was so good. Just a few minutes before we had passed a water stop, where Pa had the water go down the wrong pipe and he choked. 

We kept on going. 

Finally, we got to the house were we lived when I was a baby. My great uncle and cousin were outside their house and our old one doing yard work. We waved and Pa talked as we passed. 

Part 2 done.

It was just a short ways down to end Part 3. 

We were in mile 10 and I had my usual 10th mile runners high. In that brief mile I thought I could do 14...at least.

Mile 11, part 3 done, runners high gone.

Ma was waiting here at the mile marker and the water stop. I didn't drink the water but took my mix from Ma.

We entered part 3.5-4. Run home.

The last hill entered our vision.

"The last one."

"What?"

"The last hill,"  I pointed up ahead. I had never been happier to see a hill.

We tackled that hill at a steady pace and before I knew it Pa was saying, "All done."

"What?" I asked.

"That was the last hill." I was far to focused on just getting one foot in front of the other to notice that we had actually gone up it.

"Well it's all down hill from here then!" I said fighting tears. I was going to do it. I was really going to finish a half-marathon. 

"If you cry you will ruin your breathing and this will be much harder," I told myself.

Two streets before the one my parents live on the director of the Y was standing directing traffic. His son was in the bed of his truck eating McDonalds. I wanted to tackle him and take it.

Then we were at our street. For the briefest moment I contemplated just turning and running to my bed. It was a split second thought and then it was gone. I could see the turn off the avenue and the family friend yelling for us.

"Lets go Baldensperger family!" He yelled "Last half mile, it's all down hill from here!"

And we made the turn down the steep hill. I let my legs carry me at the speed they wanted.

My hamstrings were screaming, my arms were tired and my feet wanted to just stop. They didn't hurt, they just wanted to be done. 

Directors pointed us around the third to last turn. 

"Just a little further and it's done," I told myself.

"How you feeling," dad said.

"Fine."

"Okay then we can pick it up a little."

We did.

"Why did I do this?" I asked myself.

And fait answered. A woman was "playing" with her kids in the front yard. She was sitting on the top step of the porch and her stomach was sitting on the second step. Yep I had it in me to finish this out.

The woman pointed us around the second to last turn. I saw the funny woman runner about a block away. I picked up the pace.

"I can catch her," I thought.

I made up good ground on her. She was being waved around the final turn. We got to the final turn a bit after her. I was still gaining ground on her. 

"Beat her Samantha," Dad said from behind me at the same time I decided that, that is exactly what I was going to do. The only ones beating me today were the ones who ran "normal."

I started sprinting. My legs actually loved it. They had broken the tight bonds around them from the even pace of the 13 miles before and were going at a good clip. 

I got next to her and she glanced over at me and tried to pick up her pace. I blew by her. 

"You're almost there Samantha keep going!" Mom yelled from next to the finish line from behind her camera.

"Go Samantha, keep going!" A family friend and race director yelled.

"Don't cry, don't cry," I said myself.

I didn't.

My legs carried me through the finish line. 

It looked like the clock said I finished in 2 hours and 17 minutes. I was a little disappointed but hardly at all. I had finished. 

I came around the end of the finishing shoot and found my mom.

"You did it!" She said and hugged me.

I let a few tears out before pulling myself together. I really did. I finished. It felt great!

Dad came around and congradulated me too. I looked up at the clock and it read 2:13. 

Wait I thought it said 2:17 when I went through. I asked mom and we looked at the picture she took when I crossed. It looked like 2:17. We checked the finish-line table. 2:11 not 2:17 the clock just has a messed up 1.

I was ecstatic. All those hills and I finished at the same time I would have with out as many hills.

"Richmond is going to seem so flat." I proclaimed and everyone laughed.

Wait, I still wanted to do Richmond. YES!

I guess this is as close to what it's like when women decide that they want another kid. They went through all that pain and labor but they are willing to do it again. It is the best analogy I have for my thinking as to why I am looking forward to running 13 again in a month.

Not to mention figuring out how to start training for a marathon with Pa. Am I slightly insane. I am thinking so.

I told my wife about two weeks before the race that my worst nightmare would be for it to rain. "I'm not sure if I could complete the race" I remarked to her. "I will just have to take my huaraches with me just in case." I was not too worried as I live and train in St. George and it rarely rains here.

One week later I was running in the desert and my right huarache had a blow out, the rear strap pulled through the elephant bark material. I knew what I needed to do. I was hedging my bets about the rough surface of the St George Marathon thinking that if it got too rough I could put on my sandals and be good. "It's still running barefoot right?" I remarked to myself. So I ceremoniously buried my huarache sandals in the desert. With no backup plan I ran home with a renew sense of confidence that I could, and would finish the race.

As Ken Saxton wrote last year the course was much rougher than previous years as there was new chip seal. Ken ended up with some heat blisters. Kens feet are quite experienced at running all kinds of surfaces and if he was saying it was rough I was believing him. My 20 mile workup would be on the biking/running trail that parallels much of the course from Pioneer Parkway up to the Ledges home development. As I ran this trail I kept looking to the right and observing the road that I would be running on soon. I was fearful of how the Marathon would go.

When I was dropped off at the shuttle pickup point, conditions seemed to be perfect. I was not sure what to expect, although I had incorporated sections of chip seal into my training runs they were never more than 1000 yards long, I was still trepidatious about the surface of the course. My goal was to focus on being light and elegant with perfect form over this rough stuff. If I could do this I was sure that my training would allow me to finish under 4 hours.

Walking to the bus, with socks on.

On the ride up I sat next to a man from LA who had been running Marathons for 30 years. We had a wonderful conversation about families and running. He told me of some of the best marathons to run. I cannot wait to run a few of them myself. Our conversation died off and with that the drops of rain began to form on the buses front windshield. At first it was just a sprinkling, but then the wipers came on and it was a steady drizzle. Maybe it would just be wet for a few minutes and the storm would be gone, I hoped to myself. This would not be the case.

My worst nightmare was happening. So I dug deep in to the proverbial suitcase of courage and began my affirmations about running light and elegant, and most importantly that the rain coming down would actually be a blessing in allowing me to run over the roughest parts of this Marathon.

I donned the garbage bag that the race organizers had for us at the start of the race. Put a liberal amount of Vaseline on my nipples, and grabbed a cup of hot chocolate. My wife remarked at how many men crossed the finish line with bleeding nipples. There were fire pits set up and being lit, I avoided them as I did not want to breath in the smoke. I was not prepared for cold weather, other than wearing a long sleeve shirt and socks. The wind was blowing quite vigorously and I found shelter in the pinion pines off to the west of the road. I immediately started to massage my muscles and stretch. The cold was already making me quite stiff. I was surprised that there were only a few runners stretching. Most hunkered down next to the wind break of a tree of hugged the periphery of the burning fires.

I was worried that I would have to have a bowel movement on the course and so waited until the last possible moment to join the long lines waiting for the porta-potties. Fortunately my timing was right on, and I made it to one, and exited just in time for the race to start. Whew! I was feeling good. I took off my socks, put them in the clothing bag, and tossed it to a pile of like bags on the side, and I settled in to start the race.

One of my concerns about running a marathon barefoot was getting my feet stepped on at the start up the race when it is the most congested. In fact another runner along the way asked me the same question. I was fine. No one stepped on my feet.

I was jogging in place as the crowds moved forward. It was dark, but the lights at the start illuminated the large group of runners ahead of me in the drizzling rain. It was pretty cool experience to be aligned with so many people out to run a marathon. It was a surreal and neat experience. I was pretty much in the back of the pack. I figure it would be quite motivating to pass a lot of people and to relax and start out even slower than I expected. I met up with a gentleman from Illinois by the name of John, who was on his way to run a marathon in every state of the nation. I believe he said that this was number 27. He said that he had introduced barefoot running into his training to help him improve his running, and It had helped him completely redesign his running and stride and eliminate injuries from his running quest. Cool!

Though the pavement was rough, but I was feeling good as I weaved in and out of runners. I was finding the tire grooves and I was picking up speed. Soon the sun was fully illuminating the morning from behind the clouds. Two miles came up quite fast and with it my first water/aid station experience. Cups are strewn everywhere and volunteers are vigorously putting cups of water, Gatorade, and gel in front of you. Runners are stopping, lines form in front of porta-potties, and it is quite chaotic. Then it ends and it all quiets down.

As I was moving forward picking up speed and confidence, I moved forward weaving through runners and passing them. I kept hearing the following phrase, or phrases like it; "look, he's not wearing shoes!" The phrase would spur conversation between running buddies along the way. Some asked questions and I was happy to answer. To some guys that were quite obnoxious and were obviously having a good time. I replied that I could not afford shoes. It seemed to get a pretty big laugh from the surrounding runners.

I settled in and continued to focus and weave my way through runners. Mile 6 came up and I was confident that I could keep my increasing pace and finish under 4 hours. It started to rain and blow harder, and I pressed on. I continued to search for the groove lines on the pavement. These groove lines collected water and my feet splashed each time I put my foot down. Most of the time the groove lines were the smoothest asphalt to run on, but sometimes what was below the water was insane. I would then weave out and find another line.

I was surprised at the halfway point to see my time 2:12. I know that it took 10 to 15 minutes for me to cross the start line, so I was pleased. I know that I had slowed down because of the surface, but I was feeling good and hoping for some good pavement ahead. If it would dry out a bit and I could get a good stretch of smooth road, I could do well or so I thought. So I picked it up, and headed towards the upcoming hill. On the hill I was passing all those that passed me on the downhill sections. I settled in, dug up the hill, squeezed a apple cinnamon hammer gel, and still thought that a sub 4 hour run was possible in these conditions.

The next downhill section was murder. Every footstep set my body into a tense reaction to the tenderness of my feet interacting with the chip seal. "Elegant, relax, smooth" I repeated to myself as a deliberate mantra to focus my mind on what I needed to do to survive. My speed dropped dramatically. I was getting passed by everyone, it felt like. I had passed the 4 hour pace guy carrying balloons, now he passed me. I came up upon a big guy about my height who was now walking. I said something to him, and he caught up with me. I figure, that if I talked with someone also struggling, that we could both push forward. The pain to smooth pavement mix was interesting. It would seem that I would alternate from finding smooth pavement to rough, and just the sheer grit of wading through pain.

I slowed to a walkers pace. I saw a few ambulances pulling runners off the course. With the pain raging through my body, I wondered if this would be me. I stopped on a bridge, grabbed the barrier, and stretched my hamstrings and calves. It felt rejuvenating. I turned, and set off with more resolution that this run was possible. I had trained, my body was physically fine, all I had to do was relax and manage the effects of pain. I was off of the bridge and the road turned butter smooth. I was expecting this, but I did not expect the immediate results that it had on my body. It was as if someone had just handed me 2800 mg's of Motrin. I relaxed, my speed picked up. I was passing runners again, and I pushed forward. I could again see the pace setters balloons. The run then turned and angled downhill. So I was running off camber, fast, and downhill. With the amount of water on the road, the smoothness, and the road oil coming to the surface, I was slipping. If I pushed the pace it felt like I was going to slip and land on my back and on my head. I slowed down, but then I felt like I was betraying my capacity to go fast for I was truly feeling healthy and capable. So I compromised and found a smooth rut next to a gritty lane. I would run fast and focus on balance, then slip to the side and catch the rough pavement and focus on being smooth and managing pain. I alternated running this way for sometime as it seemed to work for me. What I did not know was that the off camber surface and my strategy was focusing all of the stopping energy of running downhill on the inside of my left foot and big toe.

The rough pavement returns and I slow to a grinding pace. I was surprised at how fast the halfway mark had come up. I was now equally surprised at how slow each aid station was coming up. I was not interested in water, or gels, but went straight for the Vaseline booth. My body was soaking wet and I could feel the inside of my thighs rubbing. If I did not slather Vaseline I knew I was going to be hurting. The aid workers were in more shock than my fellow runners about me being barefoot. Many thought I had taken my shoes off because of the rain. I pressed forward. I was now coming into the last stretch. I was at 22 miles and the 4:30 pacer had just passed me. I was suffering. Four miles to go, it was raining, and I was not running on broken, rough, cracked old pavement. The course was now lined with constant crowds.

Three young men were behind me hollering and eating up the energy of the crowd. There were wearing huge smiles and cracking jokes. At first it was a bit annoying, but their energy was infectious. I was in pain and suffering, but now I was smiling. I pressed on. Four miles – this was going to be easy. On all of my practice runs I trained for the push of the last for miles. Just push the pain aside, and go fast. My body had a different thought. I turned onto diagonal and I found the painted lane lines and tried to stay running on them. The pavement at this time was not run-able. Not in my condition. Each foot landing would send pain up my spine to the top of my head. I looked longingly at the smooth concrete sidewalks that were lined with people, and block by barriers. Then we turned off of diagonal the barriers were gone, and I went straight for the sidewalk. I could run again and I was out of the lime light as I was now running behind the crowds. At each cross street, I braced, made my way around the barriers and back onto the sidewalk. "Take a left and your done" yelled a supporter. Off of the side walk I came, swung around the last set up barriers and saw the last ¾ of a mile ahead of me. I was on the home stretch. There was no sidewalks to ease my pain, but a gauntlet of crowds and a meat tenderizing surface.

For the last stretch spectators kept asking; "did you run the whole race barefoot?" "Yes" I would reply smiling. I was crawling at a walkers pace and shod runners were sprinting passed me in droves. A bit de-motivating. The last 1000 yards was lined with National Guard troops from the 222. It motivated me to start singing the Marine Corps hymn. It never fails to pick up my spirits and my pace. I was now running and looking more respectable. I was looking for my wife. I knew she was going to be at the finish line. I could not see her. I wanted to see her. What I could not see was that she was running behind the crowds barefoot alongside of me. She was feeling firsthand the roughness of the course and was a bit shocked that I was still able to run after 26 miles, for her short supporting run was tender.

I crossed the finished line. The clock said 4:43 minutes. I had finished.

Just crossed the finish line

"Micheal!" I heard to my right -- It was Michelle beaming brightly. I sprinted to the side and hugged her tightly over the barrier. I had done it. My first marathon, and I did it barefoot in the worst conditions I could imagine. YES!!!!

After the finish line I grabbed an ice cream cone and devoured it, then three pieces of bread. I walked back with Michelle to our car and cheered on all of the racers still on the course. I had a medal around my neck and it felt unbelievable good. YES!!!!!

Walking back to the car.

A few hours later - only two large blood blisters from running off camber downhill.

I did what I feared the most. Run a rough course marathon in the rain. Although I could barely walk the next day -- by Wednesday I ran 1.5 miles, and on Friday I ran 5.

Michael Carroll

I got a free bumper sticker and brautwerst just for "looking the part" as well.

The first time we saw Mom she was relaxed and waved to us and we cheered very loudly. While she was on her trek we walked around because Bailee and Raven were getting restless just sitting and not causing havoc. But Dad told us we are going to have to be ready to help Mom get up the hill since it was a tough one given its length and point in the race where it was situated, and we said we were up for the challenge. When we saw Mom crossing the overpass we got ready to roll as well. She was running really fast and passing a lot of people. And she hit the bottom of the hill we started yelling (and barking) encouragement to her to keep her going. We ran alongside the course continuing to show our support and help push Mom to her best. The way the course was setup was perfect for our cheering, since we were able to be close enough for Mom to hear, but far enough away so we didn't interfere with the race. As Mom crested the hill she continued passing people who burned out on the hill. Dad told her when she gets to the rugby fields to takeoff for the finish. She did just that and passed a guy about halfway down the field and was closing on another runner, but ran out of real estate. She said she gave all she had and was spent at the end.

We were all very proud of her. She ran 30:30 and finished in 89th place. She was upset she didn't break 30 minutes, but said it gave her something to shoot for next time. It was very exciting and intense race and I was so worn out after cheering hard, I fell asleep right after Mommy finished. Uncle Artie and Paavo showed up to cheer Mommy on as well. It was a beautiful day and great race by Mommy. Thanks for everyone who wished her well and sent her good luck notes and called to congratulate her. Now we just need to get her ready for the next one. I only wonder when Dad will get off his can and race again...hehe.

I will post the results to the race when I find them.

And Bailee and Raven said they are going to contact Uncle Pete to file a discrimination lawsuit against the race director for not allowing dogs. I will let you know how that turns out for them. Cousin Lilly, Aunt Kutja, and Paavo said they would support the cause and sign their petition. They are suing for treats, boneys/rawhides, and tennis balls.

Anyway...

...if anyone is curious, the Twin Cities marathon web site has some pictures posted of me crossing the finish line.  In a couple of them you can definitely see my pain :)  To view these snap shots simply go to the website at:  www.mtcmarathon.com.  Once there click on "finisher photos" under the marathon section then enter my bib number: 4387.  There are a couple picture there that are not me.  I am the one wearing the dark long sleeve t-shirt with the red hat (or the one in more pain than the others).  Enjoy :)

Paying taxes (Matthew 22:15-22)
How appropriate that we get a text that talks about paying taxes.  In a time of economic hardship the last thing people want to hear about is paying taxes.  Here in Jackson, taxes are a huge issue.  There is a battle currently waging about the proposed construction or renovation of the county Resource Center.  Some want to see a brand new building and others want the current one (the old high school) renovated.  Either way, taxes would go up quite a bit in Jackson.  And this is after the new school referendum passed last year that some people believe the district is misusing.  What a time we live in.

Here in Matthew 22:15-22 the Pharisees are looking for some dirt to nail Jesus with so they try to trap him with the issue of taxes.  If he says that people should pay them then his followers would get upset.  If Jesus says they shouldn't pay taxes, then the Pharisees could bring that info to Caesar and accuse him of treason.  But Jesus is smarter than this as he responds, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and give to God what is God's".  So the question is what is Caesar's and what is God's?  Discuss...

...to be continued...

-edh-

Safety was a priority for Purchase in the development of the course. Blue lights with emergency phones are accessible throughout the course. Emergency exits are also marked on the course.

-

well today was a really pointless day at school. PE was beyondddd boring with some stupid dance thing. which was stupid cos it was some guy doing semi-tap dance steps and getting the names all wrong and i felt like i was stuck in some juvenile class. absolutely miserable.

math was just terrible. i was just filled with unspeakable hatred and dread. i don't think i'm going to pass math, because my teacher seems vague about the issue (when he's sure about everyone else's, so something's fishy there) and i'm really, really scared. so i threw away math for history, and i doubt history is going to be my saving grace either.

ran off after school to holland village with lavania to find some stuff. i swear the both of us have the worst luck with buses. i couldn't find the stuff i wanted, but we tried frolick which is basically just yoghurt that tastes like ice cream and is actually quite nice.

rushed back to school for some briefing, and somehow, i manage to sign up for the most random things, such as open day tour guide. rightttttt. i have no clue what i was thinking, really.

printed stuff at coro, saw esther's mum on the way (HI ESTHER I HOPE YOU'RE READING THIS! HAHA.) and then headed home and read abit of midnight sun. which is basically twilight written from edward cullen's POV instead. i just managed to put it down to start on my WORKKKKLOADDD for tonight (which, because of my fabulous procrastination, has built up to the extent that the deadlines are coming/past and i cannot ignore the work anymore!).

well the one thing that really made my day today (apart from the delicious after taste of frolicks!) was my RUN. i ran about 8 km, within about 50 minutes. which isn't exactly very good i think, but i can feel my stamina building up and i have never loved running more than when i was running by the canal today and breathing in fresh air.

fresh air is sweet, i swear. coupled with a full view of the sky and my steady, constant motion forward... i guess it's the best end to a day i can get. i managed to forget that i was scared, i managed to believe that everything will be just okay, and right now i'm really happy and quite relaxed, so i guess it's down to work and ignoring the fact that doomsday comes on wednesday.

ohh and i totally saw this coming; my new handphone theme is twilight (featuring edward cullen!!!!) and i am so tempted to keep on smsing because i get to see his face whenever i type an sms :D haha. very unhealthy for my bill, i must say. i need to get the student plan thing, but i need to find time to like, go down to singtel first. which isn't very easy for now :|

i love running. alot. i really really love running. i wish i could run instead of do stupid PE stuff :/
and scoff all you want, but my chemical romance is fab fab fab to run to :D

After not running for two weeks with my calf muscle pull, I slowly started my comeback this morning.  I laced on my new running shoes, grabbed the new light stick Pam bought me and headed out.  Woohoo!  I ran 1 mile, walked 1 mile, then ran 1 final mile.  Nothing spectacular, but it's a start, and I didn't feel anything hurting beyond the normal aches and pains.

Pam and I went out Saturday to a new running store in town called The Starting Block to get me some new running shoes.  They do a video analysis of your gait on a treadmill and recommend shoes based on what they see.   In my case, there was some mild pronation in my right foot/ankle, and some mild supination in my left.  the recommended a pair of Adidas shoes to deal with the right side problem, which was the more critical one.  I doubt it will be a cure-all for all the knee problems I have, but it's the first time I've tried something like that, so maybe it will make something of a difference.

The commute in was gray and dark, but pretty nice because it was 66 degrees.  Nice and smooth, but still easy enough to work up a good sweat.  At lunch, I went out and rode my 9.5 mile Norton Road loop out to Glenstone and back.  Because the wind was pretty stout, I worked up another good sweat, and I'm sure I'll do it again on the way home!

God bless...

TW

I started the run off quite slowly on Saturday, I reminded myself that I'd prefer to pick up pace as the run went along rather than starting off too fast and losing pace.  I ran the first 2.5 miles up around 11.5 min/mile pace and felt nicely warmed up by then.  I ran back to the mailbox, checked my blood sugar, ran out a half-mile uphill, then started to get a bit more serious about running faster some.  I never got up to what I might hope my half-marathon pace to be in November, but for the next 6 miles I would run about what my half-marathon pace was last year in Philly.

I eased back again for the last 2.5 miles some.

So, umm, yay me?  I ran 33.4 miles last week, biggest week ever.  I'm resting my legs today, hopefully I'll have a decent tempo run tomorrow afternoon although it's going to be rather warm.  I've already made the decision that if I get out there tomorrow and the run's a struggle, I won't try to kill myself with it and will cut it short and slow it down if needed.  The hard workout that I want to go well will be the intervals on Thursday morning at the track.  At least it should be fairly cool and dark then.