Christmas Week Means More Time for Training!

This week I got to thinking – what if I started writing my blog as it happened.  So, rather than a recollection of events, I could document my day to day activities right after they happened so I’d have fresh, real-time stories.

Ok, so I am a few days behind, but I will start with Christmas morning. 

Mom was in town beginning Saturday (shortly after the incredible 74 mile ride).  She is learning to be a lot more supportive of my athletic endeavors, even if she thinks I am a bit insane.  She commented several time about how “incredible” I am.  THAT makes a girl feel good, for sure. 

So, when I asked Mom if she’d be willing to drop me off on Christmas morning at the trail-head for the Desert Classic, she was happy to accommodate me.  As I left her in the parking lot and headed out and around the side of the mountain, I was faced with fairly swift winds (nothing like Vegas, but still pretty decent winds).  I knew it would make the run more difficult, but I welcomed the challenge. 

This was the 2^nd time I attempted the entire Desert Classic and I was determined to run every morsel of it – even the tough incline at the very end.  I was also determined not to make a mile and a half mistake, again, this time.  I faced winds for the majority of the run, but I didn’t let it get me down.  I traversed that trail with confidence and energy I doubted I had.  Its really the beauty of the trail that keeps me moving.  There are steep inclines and sharp depressions, large and small rocks and desert brush that cannot be seen anywhere but on South Mountain.  The coolest (and scariest) part of my run happened at about the mid-point of the trail.  As I approached a fairly large wash, I spied a group of four coyotes.  They were clearly on the hunt and, strangely, I scared the crap of out them.  I took a moment to grab a few medium sized rocks and continued on the path.  One brave coyote found me super interesting as he hung back from the pack for several seconds – until I tossed one of the larger rocks in his direction.  Off he went – certain he would die if he got closer to me.  THAT was certainly an adrenalin rush.  I know, logically, they are more frightened of me than I am of them.  But, I might have watched just a few too many episodes of The Frozen Planet to really believe (if starving) they wouldn’t figure out a way to take my 5’3”, 135 lb body down.  Fortunately, I was spared – they really wanted the bunnies, not me!

It so happens that as I get within 3 miles of the end, I always face a number of mountain bikers, trail runners and hikers.  It’s a nice reminder that the end is near, but it also means my focus and enjoyment of being alone in nature is broken.  I do love passing other endurance athletes, though.  Not one wished me a Merry Holiday or anything – it seemed as if this particular morning everyone wanted the mountain to themselves.  I’ll admit, it was fine by me.  I was just pleased that most got out of my way as I came around each bend and up each steep wash.  11 miles later, I was standing at my front door feeling really accomplished.  I told mom it shouldn’t take me more than two hours – so stopping my watch at 1:52 only made me smile.

I had a nice, but non-momentous, 18 mile ride on Wednesday morning with Matt.  It had been 4 days since I had been in the saddle, so it felt great to be reminded that I am still a multi-sport athlete.

Thursday morning, after dropping mom off at the airport, I decided to head to the front side of South Mountain for a different kind of trail run.  Several months ago I had attempted the Javalina Trail to the RidgeLine and only made it ½ way up before needing to hike the rest.  So, I wanted to see if my skill level had improved at all. 

Unfamiliar with the nuances, turns and inclines of the Javalina Trail, I headed out with a bit of trepidation.  But, what I found about ½ a mile into the run was that I really loved the skip and the hop of the trail.  There are choices to make on the trail at every moment: large rocks to maneuver around, steep drops to jump down and boulders to climb.  I often feel like I am 10 years old and not 40, as I run.  The Javalina Trail reinforces that child-like spirit.  BUT, the Javalina is ALL up – and then as one reaches the top of the Javalina Trail there is a choice – the Mormon Loop or the Ridgeline (another swift climb that looks out over much of the north and south sides of the mountain).  I opted to attempt to run up the Ridgeline.  It was a bit of a failure, as there are simply sections that can only be hiked – I cannot imagine anyone being able to do much more than that. 

I met two women hiking at the very top of the RidgeLine.  They offered to get out of my way as I turned around – because “they were not running”.  I was grateful.  And, as I made my way down the Ridgeline and back down the Javalina Trail, I could feel my glutes and my quads.  They were on FIRE!  But, boy was it fun to jump from rock to rock along the trail on the way down.  My heart-rate was barely noticeable considering the prior 2+ miles up, so I was able to smell the rocks and the brush all the way back to the start of the trail.  4.25 miles later I knew I had worked hard.  My Garmin told me I had climbed over 500 feet between mile one and two.  (Now, that’s explains my crappy pace!  Wink)

Friday morning, I hit the pool.  I had intended to go to the Masters Class on Thursday night, but my quads were still sore from the morning trail run.  Turns out it was good that I did.  I got to the pool a few minutes before 5am and set all of my equipment down next to my chosen lane.  As I looked up, I saw my former Spin Instructor (Steve) heading into the Men’s Locker Room (there’s a cut through to the locker rooms via the pool).  He saw me and wandered over to where I was prepping to get in.  His comment, “You ready for lesson #2?” he asked me.  Some of you might remember that Steve saw me in the pool nearly a year ago and changed my life.  It was he who really taught me how to swim – or how to get my hips and butt up to make the most of my laps.  I have been grateful ever since. 

But, “YES!” I told him, emphatically, “I am more than ready.”  He then discussed stroke (elbow up to the ear, arm extended, pull by the side of the body – not crossing in front of the body).  He discussed breathing, “If you do it right, there will be a pocket of air ready for you as you turn your head.”  And, extension, “Reach to the end of the pool and then pull back.”  He was off to teach his 5:30am spin class, but before he left he said, “You look so good, by the way.  You have really become very fit and slender.  Tri-training looks great on you.”  I thanked him and vowed to practice what he’d just taught me. 

Every stroke was work for the first several hundred meters.  It was so much to remember: elbow up, breath in the pocket, arm out, pull back to the side of the body – repeat.  Oh, and keep your butt up!  By 500 meters, I felt like I was working more efficiently – I wasn’t tiring the way I had in the past.  And, I finished a mile 1:16 (min/sec) faster than I had ever done before.  I went on to complete another ¼ mile before getting out of the pool. 

Of course, I found a piece of paper and wrote a Thank You note to Steve – asking him to call me to let me know what days/times he gets in the pool.  Maybe I don’t need a Masters Class – maybe I just need Steve-Lessons.  (Would save me some $$, for sure.)  I walked into his spin class where Soundgarden was blaring on the stereo and handed him the note.  He gave me a thumbs up and continued teaching his class.  What a GREAT swim.  I have more confidence than ever!

I had arranged to meet Aaron, Josh and Matt for a 9am long ride on Saturday morning.  And, fortunately, everyone was incredibly prompt.  You have probably all already recognized this about me – but I am loathe to wait for anyone untimely.  The first time I rode with Aaron (who also happens to be the fabulous-Jacqui’s husband) was one of his first times out on a bike.  He nearly died climbing the big hill of the Usery Mountain Pass.  We have since done a couple of tri’s together and its amazing to see the difference in his cycling.  I met Josh at our tri in Flagstaff over the summer.  He’s Jacqui’s older brother – and while I schooled him in the Tri, it appears his strength and conditioning are at a completely different spot, today.

As we headed out the sticks of the Reservation (south of South Mountain), we were all really moving quickly.  Our pacing was in the low 20’s and we were trading off pulls every mile.  It makes the work relatively easy when there are 4 people to share the load, instead of 2.  Josh and Aaron, however, have not been through Matt’s Rigid Cycling Institute - and that was apparent within the first two miles of the ride.  Our pacing was off, our distance between riders was occasionally deathly close and, to be quite honest, I thought we were going a tad fast for the first 20 miles of a 50 mile ride.  (I figured out later that this had nothing to do with Josh and Aaron, but everything to do with putting three competitive men together on bikes.) 

I really enjoyed the additional company and I think all the guys did as well.  Josh got a flat about mid-way into the ride (which was nice, because I was dying at that point – as we were going uphill and into the wind).  Another slightly odd moment was when he pulled out a tube that had patches on it.  I mean, the guy rides a $4000 bike – and he pulls out a patched tube.  I, immediately, offered up a new tube and assisted with the change.  It felt good (for a change) that the flat wasn’t my own.  The new tires have really changed that aspect of my rides – thank you, Matt!!!!

The last 20-25 miles were better after I took some gel and water.  It was within the last two miles that we suffered some confusion at a major intersection as the light was changing.  I think Matt yelled “Slowing!” and I yelled “Going?” – so Aaron raced through the light and the remaining three of us slammed on our breaks.  Sadly, I wasn’t as in control as I thought, as I grinded to a halt, and toppled over in an attempt to get my goddamnedleftfoot out of the clip!  Sigh…in broad daylight this time.  Ego-Crush!  Matt made sure to make fun of my lousy skills until we pulled into the Park ‘n Ride 6 minutes later.   It was all in good fun. 

(Josh and Aaron continued on to do 55-60 miles, while Matt and I refrained since we have the century in 2 weeks.  I gathered later that Aaron got a flat coming back down Pecos Rd – and found that his patch jobs were not quite what he’d hoped, as he limped his bike back to the Park ‘n Ride where Josh had been waiting for 20 minutes.)

Josh and Aaron were still riding Pecos when this was taken...see Mom, new jacket!

I am hopeful the four of us will ride together again, soon.  It was incredibly enjoyable to have the extra bodies out there.  (Hint…Hint)

This morning, I woke a little after 5am thinking I may have consumed a little more beer than I should have the evening prior.  I had my standard cup of coffee and two advil and attempted to get my body ready for the 13 mile run I had planned. 

I told Anne, the day before, that I intended to be out the door at 7am and to her house around 9am.  The nice thing – Anne lives almost exactly 13 miles from me.  It’s a perfect way to spend 2 hours, if you ask me. 

I felt pretty fast as I started out – knowing I was pulling numbers under 9 minute miles.  I felt good and confident.  However, somewhere around mile 5 I began thinking about how tired my legs and body were.  I think I began dreaming of a Gu that would fix the world.  So, as standard, I took a Gu and some water around mile 7.5 in hopes that it would rectify my waning enthusiasm for the run.  And, as my watched buzzed 9 miles, I started to feel the energy come back to my body – and I knew the next 4 miles would be fine. 

And…they were.  As I came to the corner of Anne’s neighborhood, I glanced at my watch for the first time: 12.88 miles, 1:58 – so I put my legs in high gear.  I did not want a 2:01 – I needed a 2 hour 13 mile run or better.  My watched buzzed 13 miles: 2:00:28 and I was fine with it.  I knew that once I transmitted the data from my Garmin to the site, it would have an even better time – removing my stopped moments at stoplights and stopsigns.  For the record, 13 miles – 1:59:54.  I have a little to shave off to hit my sub-2 half marathon, but I know I won’t consume copious amounts of beer and eat cheese-dip and brats the night before.  I think it’s do-able.  Just have to stay the course. 

After the run, I was treated to breakfast with my favorite girl.  Makes it all worthwhile, folks!

Success after Failure = Happy Mer!

Its late, so this is not going to get the attention it normally does, and I will likely fast forward to the highlights because I really had some stellar moments this week.

I know I swam on Monday, but failed a couple of times to hit the wall, so the data (on the Garmin) was off.  I think I did 2050 meters, but its anyone’s guess.

Tuesday morning Matt and I met for a ride and just took it pretty easy around Pecos and back.  Matt talked about the upcoming huge weekend ride – so he wanted us to be fresh for that, if possible.

Wednesday morning I hit the trail for 6 miles.  Matt was willing to meet me at the trailhead for the first time in months and I was stoked.  However, as we headed out I could see Matt was really jonesin’ for a fast run.  After a good tenth of a mile, I let him pull ahead and we did our own thing – so I guess we’re back to being “us” on our runs.  I tried to keep him in my sights for a while, but after about a mile and a half I could see that he’d pulled nearly a ¼ mile ahead of me and I knew it was pointless to attempt to catch him.  Just before I hit two miles, I saw Matt coming back at me.  He announced, “I’m just doing 2 out and back.”  All I could muster at that moment, since I was a little shocked to see him, was, “oh, ok.”  I didn’t announce my plans nor did I consider asking him to wait for me at the end.  So, I spent the next mile kicking myself (figuratively) for failing to discuss my plans.  But, I had to do 3 out and back.  I wanted my 6 miles.

As I approached the turn around, a mountain biker approached.  And then after my turn around I found him atop this hugely steep section of the trail – likely trying to catch his breath.  We both took in the scenery while able to see for miles, and I moved passed him.  Like the weeks prior I played the mental game of “I wonder how far I can go before he catches up to me.”  I assumed, like the week prior, that it would be close to 1 mile, but I wanted more.  I fled up and down the trails, moving seamlessly through some of the steep and sexy sections of the trail.  All I could think was, “this has got to be a nightmare on the bike.”  And, after my watch clicked 4 miles, he still hadn’t caught me.  Then, my watch clicked 5 miles – and it was another 2/10’s before I could hear him struggling behind me.  Either he was a lousy mountain biker or I was pretty badass that morning.  It may have been a combination, because as I approached the parking lot to the trailhead, not only did I see Matt waiting for me, but my watch read 59:24 – a full 3 minutes faster than I had EVER done that run!

I wailed and screamed and jumped for joy as Matt came to greet me.  I was so excited I didn’t even think to take a post run picture.

The following morning (Thursday), I met Matt for a VERY chilly morning ride at 5am.  Matt was whiney and complained about the cold within 2 miles of the ride.  By mile 4 he asked if we could just head home.  I, of course, dressed for the weather, but agreed to let him off the hook, this time.  After a lousy 12 miles we were home and that was that.

Sadly, a failed workout tends to ruin my day.  Everyone knows it.  I became all emo and moody and NO one enjoyed my company at work.  It was so bad that I left work at 4:30pm, ran an errand, and managed to strap on the running shoes for a short run around the neighborhood.  I was angry at the world Thursday night.  And, I ran hard.  I passed the 4 mile route turn off, then I passed the 6 mile route turn off and kept running – and I ran harder and faster through some of the hilliest sections of Ahwatukee .  By the time I finished  my watch read 1:06 – another personal record for 7.5 miles.  That’s a sub-9 pace – and THAT, my friends, is why I ran.
NOTHING EVER puts me in a better mood than working so hard that I set a personal record on a hard run I have been doing for years.  This time last year I averaged 1:14 minutes for the same run – a full minute per mile more.  Mood Improved Immediately!

Chilly run -- the sunglasses are evidence that the sun was out when I started.  Such a reversal for me.

Saturday morning, I met Matt for our last long ride before the Century.  We have a few kind-of-longish-rides coming up – but Saturday was the 74 mile ride we’d planned last weekend before the fog tried to kill us.

As we pulled out of Matt’s neighborhood I was already working hard – WAY TOO hard, in fact.  I felt like I was blowing up and that I would NEVER make 74 miles.  Matt was in disbelief as he listened to my breathing and my struggle to do anything.  After a few miles he said, “This is really out of the ordinary, Mer; we’re only traveling at like 13 mph.”  I was defeated, sure I would ruin the whole morning.  But, then I remembered – I had changed the tires on my bike for Grand Prix 4000’s the night before, so maybe my brakes were dragging.  Maybe I wasn’t as technologically skilled as I thought I was.  I hopped off my bike and Matt checked the brake-pads.  Sure enough, the front pad was touching the wheel.  Within 2 minutes we were back on the road and everything felt great.  “Well, that was like 10 hill climbs – so I am all warmed up now,” I told him.  We laughed and got back to business as usual.

Matt made sure after the first 15 miles that we started trading off every 2 miles.   We were both strong and working hard all the way out to Maricopa.  There were a couple of wonky moments here and there, but for a good 45 miles we rode like champs – no complaints, no issues, just solid cycling.  As we made the turn around at the end of the Maricopa Highway, we were laughing and joking around.  I think, perhaps, we were actually enjoying not just the ride, but our snarky humor.  And, then it struck me and I announced to Matt that I would be singing while drafting.  I think I sang just about every Peter Gabriel song on the Shaking the Tree compilation.  When it came Matt’s turn to draft, he sang some James Brown, some Poison and some Soundgarden.  I had to complete my compilation with some awesome and terrible show-tunes.  We laughed and laughed and rode harder and harder, never wavering.

About 18 miles from the end, we pulled off for a short stop to enjoy a Coke and a Peanut Butter Snickers (that shit’s good, btw).  And, because of that, we rode even stronger as we approached the 70 mile mark.  Matt announced, “Mer, we’ve had an AVS of 18.5 for 70 miles; its ok to back off for a bit.  No matter what we do, we’ll never drop below 18, now.”  It felt good.  We did so well.  In fact, as we hit the mile 72 marker, I said, “it’s too bad the century’s not today – I actually have another 28 miles left.”  Matt did too.  That ride will go down as one of the best experiences.  We laughed and sang (for more than 35 miles) – and never complained or wavered.  Success – it felt so good, too!

LOOK, sometimes we ride when its daylight!

Shortly thereafter I picked my fabulous Mom up at the airport and informed her that she’d be meeting many of my friends and colleagues – as I’d planned a wine party for 6:30pm.  I wish I remembered more of it – so, yeah, I think everyone had a great time!

This was early in the evening -- before things became blurry.  (Anne and Me)

Sadly, not eating much and drinking everything from wine to beer to scotch had me wake with a horrendous headache.  No gym/swim for Mer!

Instead, we went to the Anthem Outlets and then spent the day up north sipping wine and learning all about wine making.

Oak Creek - water that supplies the Page Springs Winery!  So gorgeous!

But, now, my friends – its time for bed!  I have to make up for my failed workout in the morning!

Upcoming holidays and long, hard workouts!

I guess we’ll see if anyone really does read my blog now that I have deleted my FB account.  Guess you’ll all have to resort to actually commenting here on the actual blog instead.  Eh?!

I feel like I have no idea which way is up this week.  I went through all of my photos, but got confused which pictures went with which workout day.  But, then I thought – eh, none of you would know the difference, anyway – well, except maybe Matt, but then again who knows if even he remembers which outfit he wore on which morning.  I can say this because as we get closer to our Century ride in mid-January, the number of workouts we push out have multiplied.

After a stellar 64 mile ride, last weekend, I sent Matt an email asking if the workout calendar was correct – were we really going to get back on our bikes the following morning for a recovery ride?!  Mind you all, I was pretty snarky in my email FULLY assuming the answer was “No, let’s ride on Tuesday, instead.”  Nope – I got a “Harden the F*** up” email back – so, um yes, we rode on Monday morning for ~15 miles.  They were pretty easy miles, so I guess I can stop complaining.  Although, I did have to explain to Matt (several times) on the ride that my ass was still injured from the mileage the morning prior.  He did very little to console me.

Tuesday morning I was excited to get out for a 6 mile run through the Foothills.  And, I had every reason to be excited.  As I glanced at my watch at the end of the run it read: 6.06 miles; 53:06 – that’s an 8:46 overall pace and a Personal Best for me on that run.  I was on cloud 9, again.  My runs really seemed to be coming together.

Tuesday night I did something I’ve never done before.  I went to my gym for a Masters Swim.  I definitely need this class as part of my regular work outs.  It kicked my BUTT!  I have never used the kick-board so much.  My legs were in terrible pain when I was done.

Wednesday morning, once again, we were back on the bike for a solid 20 miles.  I felt good and strong when we left Matt’s doorstep, but about 2 miles into the ride, my quads could not meet Matt’s pace.  They were completely wasted from the swim the night before.  I was so embarrassed and apologetic.  Matt even made some crappy comment about the 20 miles being a solid 2 mph slower than his best.  (sad face) – I guess I deserved it.

With forecast for rain on Friday, Matt sent me an end of day email on Wednesday asking if we could move our Friday easy ride to Thursday, instead.  Never wanting to let him down, I agreed.  We only went out for 12 miles or so.  The pace was nice and easy, even if the temps were ridiculously cold for Arizona.

Oh, and I also had the pleasure of a nice run around Tempe Town Lake with Brent on Thursday evening.  I miss our regular runs, but we both had pretty tough semesters.  It was great to get back out with him – even if only for 3-4 miles.

Seriously, Brent and I found this on our running path around the lake.  Perfect, no?

After a nice day of rest on Friday (due to the horrendous amounts of rain dumped on the Phoenix metro area), I woke up Saturday morning hoping that the rains had stopped and that the trails might be ok to run.  However, as I listened to the news, I realized the rains had only just stopped when I woke and would likely continue in another couple of hours.  I took that as a sign that I should get my butt outside for a 10 mile road run as soon as possible.  I did my old run through some of the tougher hills in my neighborhood and came out with a surprising 1:31:51 over all time.  Another first for me!  I was floored that even with the steep hills I could maintain a 9:10 pace.  I just hope this lasts.

One of my colleague's at worked brewed me my own beer: Mer's Finish Line Ale.  A hazelnut brown, of course!!  Yay, Dennis M!  Thank you again.  It's sooooo yummy!

As an aside (and for picture insertion reasons), Loretta had a great holiday party on Saturday night – complete with Sean/Lyla Shenanigans.  After all, what would my blog be if not laden with pictures of one or both of them!

We were having so much fun!

No idea why Sean isn't smiling!

Which of course leads me to this morning’s ride with Matt.  We had planned a 79 mile ride out Pecos Road, followed by the same route out passed Maricopa and back that we had done the prior Sunday.  I was scared to death.  Not to mention, those horrible rains I had mentioned lingered through midnight last night – so we knew the roads would be damp, if not completely saturated.

After heading out at 5:30am, I realized that Matt was gunning for a personal best.  Sadly, I wasn’t having it.  I knew I had 79 miles in front of me and I was painfully nervous about it.  Matt’s comment, “well, I didn’t run 10 miles yesterday, so I feel fine.”  …sigh.  My only comment was “I KNEW you’d bring it up.”  Poor guy – he really does a bang up job of dealing with my crappy attitude for the first 10 miles of these rides.  I spend so much of our first several miles nervous about letting him down that I let it consume me.  I know I should get over it and just enjoy the ride, but having never done this before, I think a lot about WHY he’s even allowing me to slow him down.  Matt assures me that its not the case, but I can see/feel his marked improvement on the bike and I just don’t see that much improvement in my skills.  (shrug)

As we made our way off of Pecos Road and back to the Maricopa Highway, my legs started to feel ok.  But, suddenly I was drowning in water and mud from drafting off Matt’s rear wheel.  I was covered in tar and asphalt.  And, of course, I was wearing white (smile).  Nothing pleased me more than to switch with Matt and take on the front as he cackled his way through the muck my wheel was spitting at him.  After a while, we both got over it, but what a disgusting mess we were in only a few short miles.

Just before we hit the town of Maricopa, I ran over a nail and blew my front tire.  It seemed like forever as Matt’s swapped out one tube for another.  I was soaked and beginning to shiver uncontrollably.  And, there was poor Matt – tired, achy fingers, attempting to put the tube back on my rim.  He has GOT to be tired of riding with my klutzy ass.

After the tire fix, we headed into the town of Maricopa and quickly realized that the fog had taken over and we could not see more than a few feet in front of us.   We pulled into the Circle K and decided to wait it out – it was simply too dangerous for us to continue down the road.  But, after about 20 mins in the gas station, we realized it wasn’t getting any better.  Fortunately, Loretta’s house was around the corner and she was nice enough to brew us a pot of coffee and allow us to warm up at her place as we waited for the fog to burn off.

Loretta and I posed in front of her xmas tree, this morning.

30 or so minutes later, we were back on the road.  At that point, however, we had lost too much time and abandoned the 79 mile ride for a 50 mile ride.  We pulled some nice numbers on our ride back to Matt’s – which I am sure we both credit to the coffee at Loretta’s.   I guess we’ll have to make up for it this coming week at some point.  (…and this is the point at which I wonder whether we are riding again, tomorrow.  Matt?)

Last few days of work before the holidays!  I am really looking forward to some rest!

More of the same...but bigger!

I am tired.  Period.  After you read this blog, you TOO will be tired, I am sure. 

After the crazy Vegas weekend with the girls, I took Monday off entirely.  I considered riding my bike for 10 miles or so, but when push came to shove, I was exhausted from the weekend of intense workouts.  But, by Monday evening, I had received an email from Matt asking about a Tuesday morning ride. 

And, like clockwork, we met and did some easy spinning for 20 miles, Tuesday morning.  It was good to be back on the road with Matt.  He teaches me a lot about recovery rides and how to make the most of them. 

By Wednesday morning I was feeling well enough to run and tackled an impressive 6+ mile run with a 9:05 pace.  I am really getting much faster and am feeling pretty confident that the sub-2-hour ½ marathon is within reach.  I am really hopeful that we have good conditions for PF Chang’s ½ marathon (here in Phoenix) in another 6 weeks. 

Thursday morning, Matt and I tackled some tough, hilly miles – doing a couple of hill-repeats on 24^th Street (my nemesis) and then following it with the Desert Foothills long stretch and Chandler Blvd’s bitch of a climb.  Matt annihilated me on every hill.  He even teased me at one point on Desert Foothills by saying, “feel free to pull ahead if you’re feeling strong.”  Naturally, I prefer to hang near Matt so I can see his intentions and he doesn’t sneak past me when I am least expecting it.  But, I lost each and every hill climb (sad face).  I hope to have my day again, soon.  (See Matt’s shaking head as he reads my blog.)

Friday morning was the first time I was able to use my Garmin 910XT in the pool and I was really excited.  What a weird feeling it was, too.  It felt like it dragged for the first several hundred meters, but its accuracy is astounding.  What did I learn?  I am freakin’ slow and need a Master’s Class.  I am resolved to find one locally that won’t cost me an arm and a leg.  Because I don’t have a “Matt” to help me with my swimming – I am going to have to actually find a class.  Granted, I hadn’t been in the pool in 11 days, but I had some seriously disappointing times in the water.  There are only a few months between now and the Leadman 125 – and while I can easily swim 1.5 miles, I can’t do so in any sort of impressive time.  Anyone have any suggestions, locally?  (Meaning, Ahwatukee or Tempe.)

Saturday morning I actually slept in!  And, although I didn’t start my trail run until 7am, it was 50 degrees and chilly.  As I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead, it was filled with cars.  Ack!  I hate a lot of traffic on the trail – It always screws with my times.  But, off I went.

I saw no one for 3 miles.  And, just as my watch beeped its 3^rd mile and I was about to turn around to head back, I could see 3 mountain bikers and 2 trail runners less than a 1/10^th of a mile behind me.  “No Way!” I thought.  The passages were super narrow and incredibly steep right at the turn around spot – I knew I needed to make it passed several spots before the 5 of them approached.  And, I did.  It took the Mountain Bikers nearly 8/10ths of a mile to catch up to me.  Heh!  I was working hard.  But, as they approached, I noticed that at least one of them lacked finesse and was likely going to struggle through some seriously tough/steep terrain.  So, I resolved to keep them in my sights and not let them get too far ahead. 

A group of 4 Mountain Bikers coming at me about a mile out from the finish line, made me pull off for a few seconds, but then I got right back to it.  I could practically smell the guys who’d been suffering on their bikes in front of me.  And, about ½ mile from the trailhead, I caught up to them as they rested and lamented turning around to endure the same route back to their cars.  We all laughed as the weakest of the 3 said, “Jesus Christ” as he realized I’d been on their tail for over a mile to the end.  I am sure he was demoralized, but we all simply laughed as I moved past them to complete the run. 

As luck would have it, I beat my best time by over 2 minutes on the trail yesterday morning.  I was grateful for the challenge of the Mountain Bikers for once.

Knowing I had a long ride ahead of me on Sunday morning, I headed over to Anne’s for dinner on Saturday night and had a fantastic time running around the house with Sean.  He’s destined to be an awesome runner, as he is constantly saying, “Let’s Run.”  I take him up on it each and every time.  Sadly, he went head first into the refrigerator at one point and then I thought his parents were never going to trust me with him again, but Sean got over his tears as soon as he realized I was still willing to continue our circular pattern around the house.  I hope it didn’t leave a mark (wink).  After the running shenanigans ceased, Lyla, Anne and I went to dinner.

My alarm went off before I knew it this morning, and I was up and adam for a 5am ride with Matt.  Matt had planned a 65 mile ride for us and I admitted, when he pulled out of his garage, that I was a tad nervous.  53 miles the week prior had beaten the crap out of me—and now we had even further.  Matt shrugged it off and led us out into the darkness. 

The first 15 miles or so were pretty uneventful, but then we passed our usual turn-around in Maricopa and it felt like unchartered, scary territory for the next 22 miles.  Navigating in the dark, through construction zones, around debris in the shoulder and through narrow passages with cars randomly stopped had me (and Matt) on our toes for miles and miles.  There were even about 8 miles of a gradual uphill before the turn around and we were both struggling to keep our avs over 18.  We did it, but it wasn’t pretty. 

By the time we reached the half-way mark, we were exhausted and I confessed that I couldn’t believe it was only ½ way.  We hopped off our bikes briefly so we could take some Gu and (of course) so Matt could pee in the bushes.  (Shaking head…I guess he hydrates better than I.)

Getting ourselves mentally prepared for the second half, we hopped back on our bikes and headed out.  It was then that I realized the stop had done NOTHING good for my chill.  I was a popsicle and shaking terribly for a mile.  My hands were numb and I began asking Matt about frost-bite.  He tried to convince me that it wasn’t cold enough for me to lose my fingers and comforted me a bit by explaining that the sun would warm us both soon enough.  It must have taken 3-4 miles for it to dawn on me that I could blow warm air into my fingers/hands and that things would start to thaw.  But the change from frozen to warmer made my hands and fingers ache terribly.  I was seriously worried.  Matt let me stay behind for several bike lengths as I came in and out of my pain-cave.  Finally, all was well and I had movement and feeling back in my hands – without pain.  And of course we still had 25+ miles left to the ride, so I knew I had to immediately work on changing my attitude. 

We hit Maricopa soon after and I felt great.  We were both keeping an AVS above 20 mph and feeling pretty good about it.  I was floored as I’d been riding for 45 miles at that point and still felt like I had the remaining 18-20 in me. 

Matt wisely suggested we share a mile and a ½ loads from that point forward so neither of us would blow up at the end.  It was like a miracle for me – I felt stronger than ever each and every time I took to the front.  Matt struggled a little at one point, right around mile 55 and let me know his quads were miserable.  But, he took a gel and was back to his usual self in the last 5 miles of the ride.  This was quite the feather in my cap because I didn’t feel bad at all.  The only issue I had on the ride was my frozen fingers, but I didn’t feel like I couldn’t continue to push at any point.  (Well, except when Matt asked if I’d be interested in racing to the end of a long stretch right around mile 62.  I am pretty sure I said something nasty and probably flipped him off, but that’s why he rides with me.  He loves my stink-eye!)

64 miles later – we had an AVS of 18.2 mph.  I was on cloud nine!  What an amazing effort for both of us!!  The century is still 5 weeks away and I am feeling less nervous about my ability to crunch out the miles, now.  Super proud – SUPER!!!

Ride, Runs and CRAZY winds!

It felt great to be back to my routine – swim, bike, run!  I did my traditional swim on Monday morning, rode Tuesday and Thursday mornings with Matt and did a couple of nice easy 5 mile runs on Wednesday and Friday mornings.  I say easy because I had a pretty big weekend planned.

You should all know that I am signed up for a Century on January 13^th.  A Century is a 100 mile bike ride – and Matt thinks I can handle it.  (That has yet to be determined.)  So, once the Philly Marathon was behind me, I knew I needed to focus my hard, long efforts on the bike each weekend, instead of the run.  Orrrr, I mean, I promised Matt I would do that.

So, when I sent the email to Matt, a week or so ago, asking if we could do our long ride on Saturday (instead of Sunday) because I was heading to Vegas on Saturday to run the Vegas ½ Marathon on Sunday night, his response was something like, “YOU’RE NOT IN MARATHON TRAINING, ANYMORE!”  (Head hanging low…)  But he was nice enough to agree to accommodate my departure time and date. 

At 5am on Saturday morning I rose and headed to Matt’s for a 5:30am start time.  He’d planned a 50+ mile ride for us.  I told the girls to meet at my house at 10:30am – plenty of time to finish a long ride, get showered and head to Vegas. 

Matt’s route included 16-18 miles on hilly Pecos Road and then the road to Maricopa and back – which is super flat, but often has some tough winds, as well.  It was pitch black for the first hour of the ride – most of Pecos Road.  I couldn’t see anything on my bike computer so I was relying on Matt to pace us that whole time.  Around mile 10, I caught the street light and viewed my stats – only to realize that my bike computer never started.  (grumble)  Naturally, I made a comment out loud to Matt about it and his snarky response was something like, “not to worry; we haven’t been moving very fast.”  Of course, I thought I was putting in a decent effort – so to hear that had me worried for the rest of the ride. 

I wear my Garmin 910XT, now, but manipulating the bike, my gloves and my watch to click the backlit button, is FAR too much work in the dark – so it wasn’t until nearly 7am that I was able to enjoy the stats on my watch.  I did manage to start my bike computer – doing the math in my head every mile to include the 9.5 miles before I had started the dang thing. 

As we headed out the long stretch to Maricopa we could both feel the decent head-winds.  We’d endured far worse on past rides, but knowing we had over 50 miles to push out meant that our average speed was going to be pretty low.  Matt and I shared the load on the way out to Maricopa – keeping right around an 18-19 mile per hour pace.  Considering the headwinds, neither of us were concerned.   I was really grateful for Matt’s endurance on the ride out there – he really saved my legs for the remaining 18 miles back to Phoenix.   When I say we shared the load – I mean, Matt would carry me for 3-4 miles and I would provide relief for him for 2-2.5 miles.  Not exactly fair, but he’s a more experienced and confident cyclist – and he simply will never again allow me to move ahead of him at his own game.  I can see that!

Once in Maricopa, we’d stopped so Matt could pee (the guy’s got a bladder the size of an acorn, I swear) and we could both take some supplements.  The stop wasn’t long and we were both still feeling pretty strong as we headed back out on the Maricopa Road to head back to Phoenix.  Immediately, we saw the benefits of the tailwinds – as our 18-19 mile per hour pace, was subsumed by 23-25 mph pace (with Matt at the lead).  However, after only a couple of short miles, I felt like I wasn’t able to keep up and simply could not understand until I realize my rear tire was getting flatter and flatter, rapidly.  “Maaaaaatt!” I yelled, as he turned around to see I was stopped.  Aghast, he said, “Same EXACT spot at last time!”  And, so it was.  Fortunately, the tube change never takes very long when I have Matt at my side, so we were headed out in no time – back to maintaining 23-25 mph speeds.  After a few miles, Matt signaled me to take the lead, and as I past his side I said, “You know I can’t pull those numbers, right?”  He gave me a reassuring smile and said, “No worries, Mer.”  I managed a couple of miles before asking Matt for some relief and he was good about it.  I was able to carry us another couple of miles before the end of the Maricopa Road,  and our last few miles.  It’s at that point that I always anticipate that we’ll be able to lay off a bit.  But, not this time.  As we hit mile 47 of our ride, Matt said, “Hey, our AVS is 18.2, right now, let’s keep it over 18 for the remainder of the ride.”  I gave him the stink-eye and may have even flipped him off, but I agreed.  I stayed alongside him for a mile or so, before realizing he really meant, “I would like to pull a few more miles at 19-20 so hang on!” I simply dropped in behind him and drafted for most of the last few miles. 

We averaged an 18.1 – and rode a total of 53 miles.  Not too shabby!  And, I wasn’t completely wasted at the end, for a change. 

I have decided I like Matt's helmet -- looks like a  a Mario character, no?

As we approached his house, we both had places to be.  It was nearing 9am and I wanted to make a pit-stop at US Egg to say hello to my dear friend and former running partner, Cat, who was in town for a couple of days.  She’d mentioned that she’d be there for breakfast around 9am, so I rushed off to see her and have a quick cup of coffee.  I am only sad I didn’t think to take a quick picture.  She a beautiful woman and I love her (and miss her) so so so much!

Like clockwork, I showered and got ready for the gals’ arrival – and off we went to Vegas at 10:30am, as scheduled.  Anne, Amy, Kris and I piled into my little Nissan Versa with a plan to meet Loretta in Vegas – who decided to fly.

The ride was pretty uneventful and 5 hours later we saw the skyline of Vegas.  The hour time difference worked in our favor, as the Expo was open until 9pm and it was a requirement that we pick up our packets on Saturday, even though the Marathon didn’t start until Sunday evening. 

Kris, Anne, Amy, Loretta and Me

After our shenanigans at the Expo, the 5 of us hit the strip to find a dinner spot and some shops.  We also met up with Anne’s friend, Dave, from California, after dinner.  The last time I saw Dave was at the finish line of the San Diego ½ -- where I’d spend our introduction-time vomiting and shivering.  I was hopeful I would make a MUCH better 2^nd impression. 

Dave took this nice shot of Anne and Me on the strip!

Sunday we all relaxed and prepared for the 4:30pm start.  Every one of us was nervous about the evening start.  What do we eat?  When do we eat?  How will we feel?  Should we take a nap?  And, as we all stepped outside earlier in the day we could see and feel the strong winds.  I watched the weather that afternoon as the anchor described the “possible gusts up to 60 mph at times, with an average speed of 30-35 until 10pm.”  WHAT?!!!! 

It was ridiculous.  The temps were fine – right around 65 degrees – but the winds were out of control.  I had never seen anything like it on a race day.  Oh well – we were going to have to “Harden the F*&# Up!” 

Look at that sky with the corrals weaving in the foreground!

Anne, her friend Dave (and his buddy, Denny) were all decked out in Elvis costumes – but due to the HUGE crowds (35,000 runners) I didn’t see them until after we’d finished.  Loretta, Kris and I headed to the start line together, lamenting the winds and enjoying the craziness of a Vegas Marathon.  There were crazy people in costume everywhere! 

At the start (early) -- see Loretta's hair flying!

There were 57 corrals of runners – I was in corral 14 with an anticipated finish time of 2:05.  As we all stood in our corrals the winds worried each and every one of us.  Bibs were flying, costumes were coming apart and sand was getting in our eyes.  It was absolutely unbelievable.  The race started in waves and within about 15 minutes, corral 14 was at the starting line, heading face first into the wind. 

As the announcer dismissed our corral across the start, we could all feel the strain as we headed forward.  At the one mile marker, though, we turned around to go the opposite direction up the strip from the south end.  It was a welcome relief – as I had actually glanced at my Garmin at the one mile mark to see what kind of damage that horrendous first mile had done: 9:36.  YUCK, I thought!  I knew I needed 9:07’s to hit a sub-2, so I immediately resolved that this would not be the race to do it.  Not with these winds.  However, with the wind at my back I was hopeful it might help move me along.  Unfortunately, with the buildings and the passages, the winds felt like they were coming from every direction.  In fact, occasionally when I picked up my foot while running, it would smack up against my other ankle because the cross winds were so strong.  I was simply amazed. 

As we hit the 4 mile marker, I had improved my pace enormously, and felt like I still had a chance.  We past the marathon finish line coming from the opposite direction – which is always a nice treat.  I could see the Mirage and Ceasar’s Palace – so now I had a lighted marker for the finish.  How COOL! 

Fighting the crazy winds, I was thirsty for most of the run – it was simply dehydrating to be out there in all the wind.  Many were walking within the first several miles, simply unwilling to fight the craziness of it.  Tables of water had been toppled and pushed around – and the mile markers and clocks had blown over and crashed to the ground.  I had never been so happy to have a Garmin with a back-light. 

Between miles 8-9, we turned back head first into the winds and you could watch as the runners became walker after walker.  It was sad.  I passed so many runners with the 2:00 Pace Bibs on their backs.  I’d occasionally tap them and say, “If you start back up, you might get close.”  But, most just gave up – it was hard.  I trudged through, trying to keep my head down, ignoring the misery around me.  Occasionally, I’d pass a guy or gal in a crazy Elvis costume or some drag-like-leotard which perked up my spirits, but then I would just find my focus-point and move forward.  I, honestly, had never in my life, passed so many runners in the last 2-3 miles.  It was like they were standing still.  I credit a lot of my training on the bike for my mental fortitude in those last few miles, because they hurt.  My heart-rate was so out of control I actually feared for a bit that I might pass out if I stopped.  I was simply working so hard. 

As my watched beeped 12 miles, I looked up and could see the Mirage and Ceasar’s Palace in the distance.  They were a welcome sight, for sure.  I don’t even remember the last mile save the ground in front of me.  My contact lenses were shot and dripping tears from all of the dust and sand – so all I could do was look down.  My bib tore holes in my shirt from fighting so hard with the wind, but I finished, damn it: 2:02:30!  It would have been my sub-2 – but the conditions were all wrong. 

After the race, I met up with Dave and Denny at the Flamingo Bar and waited for the rest of the team to finish.  Kris finished in 2:30, then Loretta, then Anne with a 2:51 and Amy rounded us all out just after the 3 hour mark.  It was a wonderful finishers’ reunion. 

Denny (tall one) and Dave

Her costume was so great - I had to give you a full shot!

By 10pm we were all good and sauced – headed back to our hotels to clean up and then out again for a fun night on the town.  No worries – we were all in bed by 1am.  Some Vegas partiers we were, eh?

Anne made me the BA shirt... sorry turn your PC sideways for a better shot!

Loretta and Amy took flights out of Vegas, while Anne, Kris and I drove back to Phoenix.  All I can say is – what an insane couple of days.  I don’t know how I pushed out 53 miles on the bike and then that tough ½ marathon, but I know I will sleep well tonight!

Thanksgiving and more...

I suppose there’s always something to write about, eh?

So, after the high of last weekend’s marathon, I headed to St. Louis to spend the Thanksgiving week with my family in Illinois.  You should all know that I suffer a bit from slight depression after a major event is over – I get all worked up in anticipation of the big day and then it comes and goes.  And, with something as large as a marathon – you’re also supposed to take several days off to get your legs back.  THAT is so hard on me.
  

By Tuesday afternoon, I was really feeling myself again, so Mom and I went to the gym on Wednesday morning so I could get a bike workout completed.  With the new bike and all the marathon training, I really had not been on the bike much.  I had even emailed Matt the week prior lamenting the fact that he had prescribed easier than usual bike workouts to keep my legs from exhaustion before the marathon.  Taper means taper – in all aspects (he would remind me).  “Yes, Coach.”  I guess I can’t argue.  I had my best ½ marathon time and my best marathon time with a lot of his guidance.  So, my bike muscles had atrophied a smidge, and I should be ok with it.

By Wednesday afternoon, I really felt fantastic.  My recovery from the marathon was by far the best it had ever been.  (And, yes, this was my 8^th marathon recovery.)  So, after spending a delightful lunch with my former college suite-mate, Nancy, I signed up for a Turkey Trot in my home town of Belleville, Illinois, for the following morning.

Nancy and Me - outside mom's house

The race didn’t start until 8am, which was really nice, since the family and I toasted the 15^th anniversary of Dad passing on Wednesday night.  Dad drank a Tanqueray Gibson and let me tell you – it’s vile.  I may be the only one willing to consume it, but I have honored the tradition of doing so every year since his passing.  It’ll knock you on your ass, though.  So, I followed it up with a couple of Sierra Nevada Tumbler Nut Brown Ales, of course.

There she is - Gibson herself!

So, you see, the 8am start time was welcome!  When I got to downtown Belleville around 7:20am it was FREEZING cold.  It was clear that there were going to be about 1000 runners, which impressed me enormously for a Turkey Trot.  In years past, I have seen some with only a couple hundred.  I was sad not to get a race shirt – but that was the hazard of signing up the day before the event.  (There was a disclaimer stating that this would be the case for late registrants, and they weren’t kidding.)

At 7:40am, I decided it was time to warm up with a mile or so run around the area – putting my jacket in the car once I was fully warm.  I know that it takes me about 15 minutes to really feel like I have my running legs, so for a 5K – it was important to warm up.  Either that or half the race would be lost (for me). 

As I made my way to the starting line, the crowd was excited.  I stood about 6 people deep (from the start) in an effort to actually head out with real runners.  Often people just walk these things and I didn’t want to be stuck behind anyone.  The gun fired and off we went.  It was a fantastic run.  I felt no pain or discomfort and my mind was focused on finished strong.  There were a couple of steep sections right at the very beginning and again at the very end and it knocked people out right away and killed them in the end.  Given the amount of tough hill work I do on the trails weekly, I had no problem with the hills.  I stopped my watch as I crossed the finish line: 3.17 miles, 26:50.  I quickly did the math and realized I had also pushed out my fastest 5K – and as I looked around there just weren’t that many people who finished in front of me, so I stuck around to see if I might have placed in my age group (40-44).  As luck would have it – and after waiting around for 45 minutes – I took 4^th place, missing 3^rd by less than30 seconds.  Oh well – it was the first time in my life I even thought it was a possibility.  So, although it was hugely disappointing not to hear my name called and received a medal – it was nice to know I was “this” close.

Back inside mom's house after the Turkey Trot, still freezing cold.

I was then able to enjoy a food filled Thanksgiving, courtesy of my mom, that evening. 

Friday morning I met my good friend, Marcy, for breakfast before taking off for the airport.  My grandmother, aunt and mom were pleased to pose for some pics while we were hanging around the restaurant/hotel.  Naturally, I am including them here!

Marcy and Me -- known each other since 5th grade!

She's 99, but don't tell anyone!

Mom, Mer and Aunt Lynne.

It was great to get home that evening, though, and back to my routine.

On Saturday morning I rose and headed out to the trailhead for a nice 6 mile run with my new Garmin (which, btw, I still cannot figure out how to upload to Garmin Connect – so frustrating).  Unlike my Garmin 110, this 910XT corrects for steep elevation changes, so it meant I had to go slightly longer to get the 6 miles completed.  I welcomed the challenge and still beat my last several times: 1:04, 6.06 miles.   The morning was a delicious 65 degrees and sunny – something I had longed for since leaving for Philly, 8 days prior.

See, beautiful morning for a trail run!

As soon as I was done, I headed out to Anne’s to begin a day of shenanigans for her 40^th birthday.  It was great fun.  We had breakfast, got pedicures and hung around for wine and cake after dinner.  I had a blast!  I hope she did, too!

Great friends and good wine!

This morning, after a relatively sleepless night, I met Matt for a ride – our first ride/workout together in just under 2 weeks.  I was super nervous, as he’d been punching out some amazing numbers on his bike while I was in taper mode.  And, I could feel it the moment I tucked in behind him on our first stretch – I was simply not comfortable riding at his accelerated pace, anymore.  I was immediately disappointed in myself, but knew Matt fully understood.  It doesn’t matter that he gets it – I will still mentally beat myself up over it for the next couple of hours.  Its just how my silly brain works.  I want to get better – not have setbacks.  Today was setback-city.
  

As we hit South Mountain park for Silent Sunday, Matt was easily 10 bike lengths in front of me, so he didn’t even notice when my headlight decided to crap out.  The sun was beginning to rise, but not enough for oncoming cyclists or runners to see me on the road through the park.  So, I was trying to tighten up the distance between us for some time.  Then like an idiot, I thought Matt had pulled over to wait for me – and would simply begin moving again once I caught up, but as I approached, he actually got off his bike.  Panicking, I realized this was actually my clue to get the hell off my bike, as well.  BUT, nope – my brain and my cleats were not in check and over I went, locking knees with the bike and trapped by my own clips.  What a dumbass I was!  Now, on top of my mental state, I was bruised and banged up.  Evidently, nothing was wrong with Matt’s bike – as he had suspected something might have been wonky with his chain – so off we went.  Matt offered to give me a push – but I gave him the look of death and was able to clip myself back in going uphill.  I would not suffer any more humiliation…I thought.

Up the Summit Road we went, Matt in the lead by nearly a ¼ mile for a lot of it.  I found myself getting closer here and there, but not enough for Matt to even see me in the distance.  I would go it alone and meet him at the top.  It was a hard ride – harder than it had ever been.  My legs were tired, my ego damaged and my will waning.  Somehow I passed mile marker after mile marker en route to the top.  And, shortly after passing the mile 6 marker (its 7 miles to the top), I noticed my steering was stiff and uncontrollable.  Yep, a flat – I had a freakin’ flat!  It was the first time I actually worried that Matt might worry and there is absolutely NO cell reception up to the Summit.  I tried to take care of things swiftly, but the chill close to the top was killing me and my hands were stiff from being super cold.  Fortunately, a nice guy rode by and asked if I needed his help.  I told him to simply go on and find my buddy to let him know I had a flat – that he’d likely be waiting at the top for me.   He was happy to oblige and off he went. 

I’d only managed to get the tube into the tire before I saw Matt – a welcome site.  I was shivering and nearly incapable of handling the rest of the change.  I was lucky to have him there.  We were back on the road in no time and I was pedaling feverishly to even keep up with him on the decent. 

We’d lost too much time to also complete San Juan Road before trekking the 12 miles back to my house, so we abandoned ship and headed home.  Turns out I must have knocked a few things out of place on my little fall – as my chain was not seeding properly and my brakes were rubbing the tire.  NO wonder I had a few tough miles en route to the Summit.  Its ok, Matt will help me get my legs back and in no time I will feel as comfortable as I did on the last Silent Sunday.  (At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.)

Reunited workout buddies, at last!

It also merits mentioning that while Anne’s 40^th was yesterday, her beautiful daughter, Lyla (who routinely makes this blog) turned 1, today.  It was a glorious evening watching her open her gifts with her big brother and then refusing to have anything to do with her cake. 

"You want me to eat WHAT?!

Sean still loves the camera!

So – happy birthdays Anne and Lyla!!!

Next week Anne, Loretta, Amy, Kris and I are all off to the Vegas ½ Marathon!  THAT should be a fun blog, if nothing else!