Brooks Pure Connect

My Brooks Pure Connects have run 300 miles.  By 200 miles, the cushioning was dead, but I am cheap and I refuse to buy another pair after only a couple of months.  I loved the Pure Connects immediately.  They felt snug and comfortable from the start.  For a neutral, low drop shoe (4mm) they have enough cushioning to ease my foot's impact to the ground, but it isn't too cloud-like and I can still feel the pavement.  It is a really nice balance.  However, I am not sure I can buy another pair if I have to spend $100 every 2-3 months.

Running is supposed to be relatively cheap.  You don't need fancy gear, gym memberships, or a club card.  So why do I spend so much on clothes, watches, shoes, hats, registration fees, etc...?  In Born to Run, McDougall talks about buying the cheapest pair of running shoes you can find.  Don't go for the crazy expensive ones because those are going to have all the additional support and gizmos that mess up your gait.  However, since Born to Run became a bestseller, shoe companies have made an entirely different business model exploiting people like me.  I want a neutral low-drop shoe, one that allows me to run a natural gait.  In order to find that, I pay hundreds of dollars every few months.  Clearly I didn't buy into the barefoot running message entirely.  I like the idea of natural running, but I am fearful of the consequences of buying cheap, soleless flats. 

People run in huaraches, or barefoot all the time.  I even saw a video on Runners' World online where a guy was trying to prove you can run in any shoe and chose to run in flat-footed sneakers.  Why do I need the latest and greatest if the technology isn't really changing?

Shoes are becoming lighter, simpler, and are supposed to mimic socks.  So why don't I just wear socks?  Because shoes are an image.  If they look cool and fast, I feel I look less dorky and perhaps a few seconds faster.  I am not a quick runner, nor do I win anything besides duathlons, but I am dedicated to my hard work and training.  I like wearing a shoe that makes me feel like a warrior.  I love bright colors, sleek edges, and reflective badges.

The Brooks Pure Connect does that for me.  They come in multiple colors and are truly comfortable.  I love the low drop design, but they aren't as intimidating as wearing minimalist zero-drop racing flats.  I wish the cushioning lasted a bit longer, the average shoe can take at least 300 miles, but I have yet to find a shoe that fits my foot so well and races on dirt or pavement. 

HRCA Backcountry Half Marathon Course Preview

My husband and I scoped out the course for our upcoming Backcountry Half Marathon in Highlands Ranch and because of the tough hill climbs we were curious about the grades.  Using MapMyRun, we plotted out the course to produce some nice elevation and grade graphs.  For an interactive map, see: http://www.mapmyrun.com/routes/view/149874915.

To see the full hi-resolution image below, right click on the image and select "Open Link in New Tab".  You may also have to use the magnifying glass in the new tab to zoom to actual size.

As you can see there are some good ascents (for a race in the city) with grades in the 8-12% range.  My husband added some additional points of interest including spots on the course where we've encountered mud and ice from unmelted snow (marked with an orange X).  Here is his description of the course:

• Starts at Southridge Rec Center and begins uphill on sidewalks for 1.4 mi.
• Turns left onto a private dirt road headed east towards Rock Canyon High School until mile 3.
• The single track trail then turns south towards the first major climb from mile 3 to 4.5.  Beware of potential mud/ice after mile 4.
• At mile 4.7 is the first water station at the Wildcat Mountain trail-head parking lot.
• Mile 5 to 6 is another winding hill climb section, sandy patches with potential mud/ice in shaded oaks.
• Mile 6 to 7 slowly descends to Daniels Parking Lot (another water station), with lots of mountain bike roller jumps.
• Mile 7 to 8 is crushed dirt road, then left onto a quickly descending trail.
• Mile 8 to 9 is descending single track with several shaded scrub oak groves that can be very muddy/icy depending on conditions.
• Mile 9 to 10.5 is the last major hill climb with some tough grades, at 10.5 is another water station.
• Mile 10.5 to 11.5 is more single track, with large stones and pebbles, be careful not to roll your ankles.
• Mile 11.5 to 12.5 is downhill single track, crossing Daniels Park Rd at the bottom.
• The rest is downhill sidewalk back to rec center for the finish line.

There is a chance the route will be altered depending on conditions, but hopefully this provides a good preview for those racers that haven't had a chance to run on any of these trails; and for seasoned veterans some hints as to the current trail conditions.  This is going to be one "bear" of a run and we wish all the other participants good luck and happy trails.

Love and Hate

My six-year-old Brittany Spaniel has more stamina after 8 miles than I will ever comprehend.  According to my husband, I need Tucker on my early morning runs.  Randall is afraid a bad man might snatch me at dawn.  Or, because we live amongst endless miles of open space, a coyote might find my calves a tasty snack.  Whether I agree with these theories doesn't matter.  I bring Tucker because every day he guilts me into it. 

Before our kids were born, we ran Tucker over twenty miles a week and walked him every night for at least 2-3 miles.  He was ripped.  Our veterinarian questioned how it was possible for a city dog to be so muscular and we always responded cautiously, "Um, exercise."  Now that our two boys ruined his comfortable workout plan, Tucker has filled out, as a middle-aged man often does.  He spies on us suspiciously whenever we get dressed or approach the door wearing any form of running attire.

Tucker always gets to go, because on the few occasions that he's been left behind, I return to a helpless animal that refuses to look in my eyes.  He lays right by the front door, waiting for my return, and when I finally burst through once more, he won't budge from that spot for hours.  I crushed his soul.

I love my dog, but I hate running with him.  No matter the weather or trail conditions, Tucker forces me tackle personal records.  There is no excuse for slow speeds, so-called taper or recovery runs, or a hill too large.  My Brittany prefers speeds faster than eight minutes per mile and grunts back at me when I request a comfortable nine minute pace.  He helps push my limits, but sometimes I do not want my limits tested.  While I love the extra help going up hills, I hate being pulled down again, face first, arms reeling for balance.  He doesn't get tired.  While I am ready for my ten mile run to come to an end, he displays only thirst.  It isn't fair. 

This morning, I ate way too much breakfast.  I knew better but the waffles were far too tempting.  I planned on finishing 8 miles, but by mile 4, I regretted my breakfast and couldn't escape the thoughts of vomiting half-digested Belgian goo all over the trail.  I felt debilitated with cramps so deep in my stomach I questioned how I would make it home.  I thought about calling Randall to drive me the rest of the way, but Tucker wanted to finish.  After a few rest breaks, aiming to keep my cramps at bay, I allowed Tucker to pull me up and down the hills, taking some of the effort from my stride for 2.5 additional miles.  It didn't ease the pain entirely, but I made it home.  

Tucker will remain my running companion.  Not because I am afraid of a rabid coyote or stray psychopath, but because he brought me home again.  He knew I didn't feel good.  Even after years of my tirades begging him to slow down and stop pulling, he didn't hold it against me.  Instead, he allowed the burden of my weight, and pulled me cautiously homeward.  My dog is the most obnoxious running coach, but I couldn't keep stride without him.

Cold Run, Warm Lunch

It was all of 14 degrees this morning, with 3 inches of snow on the ground.  The sidewalks were completely dry though, so I figured it was still a good morning to hit the trails.

My husband thought I was absolutely nuts while I layered my arm warmers, thermal running shirt, vest, tights, shorts, hat, gloves, running glasses, and backpack.  Randall reminded me repeatedly, "You know it is supposed to be 50 tomorrow right, 50?"  Yes, I was well aware of the warming trend headed our way, but I wanted to run while it was cool.  

Still bundled after my morning run.

All summer, I looked forward to these frigid snowy runs.  I prefer running in crisp-cold air any day over the heavy heat of summer.  The views are beautiful, the trails much less occupied, and I don't get all gross and sweaty.  Plus, cool weather makes me crave warm comfort food.

I love food as much as I love running.  It makes me giddy to find new recipes that taste great and give me the energy to keep up with my boys.  Recently, I started tapping into the world of vegetarianism.  No, I am not a vegetarian, but instead of eating meat 6-7 days a week like I used to, I eat it once a week.  The other days are filled with healthy carbs, fruits, veggies, beans, lentils, etc....  Ever since I made this easy switch, I feel really good.  I don't get nearly as sore after a race, I am genuinely faster, and I have energy to spare.

So for lunch today I wanted something warm and easy.  I heated up my leftover Farmer's Market Stew that I cooked slowly in the crock-pot all day yesterday, and made a fresh tofu sandwich.  If you have tried tofu before and discounted it as tasteless and disgusting, try my sandwich because I too used to despise the wiggly white stuff.  

I left a little room on the plate for my bowl of soup!

Ingredients:

Extra Firm Tofu - about 3-4, 1/2 inch slices 

1/3 Zucchini sliced thin on the diagonal

1 Tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Lemon

Sour Dough Bread

Hummus

Red Bell Pepper, sliced 

Spinach or other leafy green

Salt and Pepper

Cook the tofu and zucchini on medium-high heat so that each side is nice and golden brown.  While it is cooking, squeeze a fresh lemon over everything and sprinkle a little bit of salt and pepper to taste.  Turn the tofu and veggies over when they are golden brown.  Continue to cook on the other side for a few minutes. 

 

Meanwhile, toast the sour dough bread and spread each slice with a fair amount of hummus.  Place the tofu on top of the hummus, add the zucchini, and top with the uncooked red bell pepper and spinach.  Squeeze a little bit more lemon on top of everything and place the final piece of bread on top.  

Even my boys like this sandwich!  I just omit the bell pepper, and slice the sandwich into quarters.  For my smallest, I use a blunt edged toothpick to help him keep it together.

Be careful, it is a messy one! 

Runner's Remorse: Boulder Half

I rarely get caught up in racing splits.  I like to take every race one mile at a time and base my overall expectations for my performance on the conditions.  Also, I have never cried at the end of a race.  The Boulder Half Marathon changed everything, for the worse.

Waking up at 4:00 am is never easy, but I was excited to start my day of solitude.  I desperately wanted to achieve a simple and very attainable goal of running a sub-two hour half marathon.  I didn't want to go out too fast, just maintain a comfortable 9:00 pace, and coast to the finish with some energy left in the tank to take with me to my tutoring job at 3:00 that afternoon.  According to the race website, this wouldn't be a problem at all because the course was "flat and fast." 

I ate my typical race breakfast consisting of pinhead oats, slow-cooked overnight with cranberries, a glass of orange juice, and To Life White Tea.  In the car, I snacked on a Cliff Bar and about 15 minutes before the race I tossed back one packet of Gu with caffiene.  My husband gave me a good luck charm on my foot the night before and I checked to make sure it was still there before lacing up my Brooks.

I arrived in Boulder at 6:00 am, earlier than the racing director suggested, and already there was a line for parking that was over a mile long.  We parked on a field with grass tickling the undercarriage and divots throughout.  I am grateful I brought my husbands Subaru because getting out of there would have been tricky.  In pitch-black darkness, I made my way to the packet pick-up tent where I received my bib, shirt, hat, poster, and timing chip.

The full length marathon distance runners started at 7:00 am and I had a good hour to wait until the gun, so I walked to the beach and sat down to watch the sunrise.  I couldn't believe how few people joined me for one of the most spectacular sunrises I have ever seen.  There were thousands of people enjoying the pre-race festivities and yet, I found myself in solitude on the Boulder Reservoir. 

Because the parking situation only continued to worsen throughout the morning and packet pick-up was not well organized, the half marathon started 25 minutes later than originally scheduled.  The air was cold and I shivered uncontrollably waiting to hop in line.

Well over a thousand runners arrived for the half marathon.  The race directors did not encourage people to line up by projected pace, nor did they set up waves for the myriad of abilities. When the gun fired, 1,336 runners funnelled through a 10 foot wide course for well over a half mile.  It took over 3 minutes to travel less than 1/10th of a mile after crossing the starting line.  We were completely boxed in, literally tripping over each other, taking elbows to the sides, and jokeying for position on the edges.  People who intended on walking the entire 13.1 miles somehow began at the front of the starting line leaving runners in the rear.  Minutes into the race my goal pace was lost. 

So upset by the loss of time, I let my frustrations take over.  While I heard a sensible voice tell me to slow down, I was mad.  I wanted to run away from all of those people that stood in the way of my projected finish.  My official time on that first mile was 9:07.  Subtract 3 minutes of lost time walking, and I put down a 6:07 mile.  Of course elite runners compete at this speed for 13.1 and even 26.2 races, but I am not an elite runner.  I can run 8:30 for a 10k, but I cannot maintain a 6:00 pace for more than a mile or two.

Once I broke free from my fellow competitor's elbows, I glanced at my Garmin, which now registered 3 miles.  I felt a large cramp forming on my right side and I figured once I found my stride it would diminish.  By mile 6, my entire right side was engulfed in flames.  Mile by mile, my side stitch worsened and by mile 9, my entire stomach was so burdened by a constant cramp, I wasn't sure I wanted to finish the race.  I maintained between an 8:30 and 9:30 pace and focused solely on the fact that I would have a cold water bottle recharging my energy in just a few short miles.

By the time I reached 10 miles on a course that was anything but flat, I looked at my watch and realized, even with the difficult start, I still had a chance of finishing under two hours if I could just keep my stomach together a little longer.  However, those last 2 miles were completely uphill and every time I tried to charge forward, I slowed.  I listened intently to music, pictured Ethan and Owen cheering me on, and repeated a simple, primal mantra, "Water, food.  Water, food.  Water, food." I rounded the final corner, took in the finish line and my body only wanted to sit in the cool grass that surrounded the gates.  I mustered only enough energy to pathetically trot accross the finish line at 2:01:56.  Defeated, I struggled to rip off my timing chip and clumsily meandered to the water troughs where I expected to lift my spirits with a cold bottle of water.

The troughs were empty.  Empty.  I let out an audible moan, stumbled to the next one, my tunnel vision worsening and again, empty.  My backpack was empty at mile 10 and I was truly frantic.  My stomach cramps were so painful and I knew I desperately needed water to ease the pain.  "Where is the water?" I howled.  A lady pointed to the table about 50 yards from the finish line containing 20 coolers of Gatorade.  My eyes flooded with tears and for the first time, I cried after a race.  Twenty coolers split between over 2,000 runners would never suffice.

Runners were expected to use biodegradable cups the size of a shot glass to refresh themselves after 13.1 or 26.2 miles.  We waited in lines after satiating ourselves from each small gulp.  Fill your cup, drink, go back to the end of the line and start again.  I was not the only bereaved participant.  We were given 1/3 of a bagel, a tiny cup of cream cheese, a half of a slimy banana, 1/4 of an orange, and shot glass amounts of liquid.  Multiple people groaned about the food, water, long lines, and general miscalculations by the race directors.  Most of the food and Gatorade ran out before the full marathon finishers even crossed the finish line.

The Boulder Marathon was so focused on being green, they forgot basic racing essentials.  Runners need water.  Runners need food.  They need to refuel themselves after a race.  I don't care if the contest is 1 mile, or 250 miles, not providing participants with ample water is unacceptable and dangerous.  Fuel stations along the course ran out of supplies as well.  Men and women alike fumbled along the empty tables throughout the last few miles of the course as they were denied basic necessities.  A green race could have been contested with biodegradable supplies and recyclable plastic water bottles.

After my 3 gulps of water and a small snack, I sat on top of the hill where I started my morning and let my legs recover.  I watched the finishers trot across the finish line, waiting for my runner's high to bring me out of this slump.  Even after the most difficult duathon, I get a high.  It never came and all I had was remorse.  Wanting real food and water, I jumped into my car and headed to Boulder after fighting for 45 minutes to get out of the parking lot.

I ordered a sandwich and a bottle of water at Breadworks.  While the cashiere held his tight grip on my water bottle I fought an incredible urge violently to pry it from his fingers.  Once I paid, I ripped open the top and guzzled over half of it in seconds.  Within minutes, my cramps were gone.

What I love about racing is the way I connect with myself, especially when it hurts.  How I react to the pain shows my real spirit.  Those last few miles, I knew my boys weren't going to make it to cheer me through the finish, but I pretended they'd be there.  The thought of their smiles and shrill screams encouraged me not to quit.  When I wanted most to sit down, I dreamed of my kids.  They are my cherished motivation.  Next time, I won't let my irritations take over at the start of a long race.  It is crucial to pace myself and stick to the plan, even if racing conditions adjust my goal.  Finally, I will forever start to carry multiple bottles of water in my car.  Stashed away, just in case.  

Denver Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon

My husband, Randall, and I wanted to run a half marathon together.  The experience was about running the entire 13.1 miles side-by-side and experiencing it as a team.  We chose the Denver Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon because it was a flat and beautiful course on the main roads of Downtown Denver.  How often can people run through the heart of Denver without breathing car fumes and dodging shoppers?  As a bonus, the Rock 'n' Roll Series is known to be full of music and entertainment for the entire race, offering a party-like atmosphere.  Our experience was slightly different than advertised but we had a great run and finished together as planned.

To begin, both of our boys came down with a horrible case of croup a week before the race.  We hoped 7 days would be enough time to nurse them back to health before we ran, but every day they got worse.  Our youngest, Owen, had it first and he couldn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.  We found ourselves tag teaming throughout the night to try and get some sleep.  Ethan contracted the virus 3 days later.  He woke us at 3:00 in the morning, coughing and moaning in his sleep.  Randall ran into Ethan's room, knowing something was extremely wrong, and about 10 seconds later bounded back into our room holding a completely limp 4 year old.

I jumped out of bed, grabbed Ethan, and rocked him in the bathroom while Randall prepared a hot shower.  Ethan was turning blue and incoherent.  When he breathed between coughing spells, he sounded like he was breathing through a cocktail straw.  Never in my life have I experienced the pure terror as this moment brought.  Owen's doctor gave him steroids to open his lungs the day before and luckily I had one left.  We fed it to Ethan carefully watching him struggle to breathe with pathetic gasps of air.  Within a few minutes he was able to breathe at about 50% and another hour later he was almost 100%.  Needless to say, Ethan slept with us for the rest of the night and I questioned the entire night whether we should have gone to the emergency room.  I laid there next to him, my hand on his chest, feeling the comforting rise and fall of his lungs.

The Rock 'n' Roll Series requires every racer to pick up their own packet.  A husband cannot bring his wife's identification and retrieve her materials.  Therefore, only a day after Ethan's terrifying episode, we had to make a quick trip to Denver to pick up our bibs and hurry back home to our sick kids.  My in-laws are used to watching the boys.  They raised 3 kids on their own and we knew our kids were in good, loving hands.  However, this is a policy that I really wish the race directors would change.  They are not thinking about the countless couples with children who compete together and how much this one detail can complicate a family's week.  I understand the fitness expos are a large source of income and endorsements, but it almost made one of us pull out from the race entirely.

Two days after retrieving our packets, we awoke at 4:00am.  We left the kids and my in-laws sleeping in a dark house.  Our boys were still sick and miserable, but we trained 12 weeks for this.  I don't want to be a selfish mom who thinks of her needs before the comforts of her kids, but this race meant a lot to me.  The boys were showing slow and steady improvement and we figured we would run and be back before lunch time to relieve my husband's parents. 

We arrived at the race with about an hour to spare before the first wave.  Walking around the pre-race entertainment, I became energized from all of the people, music, and fanfare.  I didn't forget about my kids' health but once we decided to run, we needed to enjoy the moment and not worry.  As we moved to our gate, I felt instantly part of something.  The gun went off and wave-by-wave we moved forward to the starting line.

Randall and I trotted off at a comfortable 8:45 pace warming up for the first mile and a half.  Before the race began we promised ourselves that the focus was not going to be about passing people and being overly competitive for the first 5 miles.  We wanted to run and finish together and find a nice pace that we could equally maintain.  Neither of us anticipated the start being downhill, which offered a great warm-up mile.  We passed hundreds of racers and settled in with a wave that began over 5 minutes ahead of us.

Every few miles we encountered live bands, or stereos streaming rock and roll music.  Fans lined the streets of Downtown Denver with signs and cowbells.  My favorite sign was about two thirds through the race, "I don't even know you, but I am so proud of you!"

As my Garmin beeped through each mile, I thought about my boys.  I hoped they were happy and feeling better, but I refused to feel guilty for leaving them.  I wish I would have worn my headphones for this race because a little more music could have provided a nice distraction from my wondering mind, but Randall was by my side and provided support and conversation.

Between miles 10 and 11 my knees and ankles began to ache and I finally started to feel a bit tired.  Throughout the race I snacked on Chomps and took swigs of water from my backpack.  I think having a constant resupply of calories kept my energy high, but that 10th mile hurt.  Reactively, I started talking to Randall about random things, mainly our boys or future races I wanted to try.  But after we passed the sign reading 11 miles, I felt better, more energized and ready to finish strong.  I asked Randall if we could speed up our pace and he was game to get it over with.  So we trotted along at an 8:00 pace until our final mile where we decreased our pace to 7:00.

That final mile was exhilarating!  Scaffolding laced the streets for photographers to get a higher vantage point.  Friends and family members of the 14,000 racers lined the streets hooting and chanting.  Randall and I crossed the finish line hand-in-hand.  Running it together is the one thing that I will forever take with me from this race.  I feel fortunate to have a husband that is as dedicated to running as I am.  We challenge each other and keep ourselves focused on our goals.  Finishing together symbolized our dedication to each other and our sport.

After crossing the finish line, pictures were taken, bottle after bottle of water and Gatorade were thrust into our hands and before we knew it, our arms were full of every type of energy bar, bagel, and fruit one could possibly imagine.  For that short instant, I felt like a celebrity.  I felt disillusioned throughout the race by the lack of music but the finisher's party did not disappoint.

Overall, I enjoyed the race.  The people were spirited and entertaining, the course was inspiring, and the post-race entertainment was worth while.  The race shirts were hideous, but it is rare to find a race shirt that one actually wants to wear.  Most importantly, when we got home, the kids were okay.  They weren't the mess we feared them to be.  Sure it took a few more days to get them back to their healthy selves, but had we stayed home with them instead of racing I would have regretted it.  Sure, kids need their parents when they are sick.  But I literally give my boys 100% during every waking moment.  When they need me, I am there.  I put down everything for my kids and I am lucky to have in-laws ready to help and provide additional love and affection whenever we need them. 

Hopefully someday Ethan and Owen will look upon our race photos and see their mom and dad accomplished this goal as a team.  Sure, Randall and I could have run our own race and independently posted faster times, but it was more fun with company.  I want our kids to see their parents doing things together because we genuinely enjoy each other.  

Boulder Half Marathon Playlist

I am always looking for new music, especially songs that take me away while I run.  I created this shuffle list for the Boulder Half Marathon this Sunday.  It has some great power songs, but also some softer ones to remind me to breathe.  What are your favorite running songs?  I'd love to try out some new stuff!

Foster the People Torches (entire CD)
Florence and the Machine 
   Cosmic Love
   Dog Days are Over 
The Lumineers
   Charlie Boy
   Dead Sea 
   Ho Hey
   Stubborn Love
   Submarines
Young the Giant
   Charlie Boy
   Cough Syrup
   12 Fingers
   My Body
Mumford and Sons
   Babel
   I Will Wait
   Whispers in the Dark
The Bravery
   Believe
The Decemberists
   Don't Carry it All
Of Monsters and Men
   Dirty Paws
   Little Talks
   Mountain Sound
   Your Bones
Jack Johnson
   Flake
The Black Keys
   Gold on the Ceiling
   I Got Mine
   Lonely Boy
   Tighten Up
Adele
   I'll Be Waiting
   Rolling in the Deep
The Band Perry
   If I Die Young
Ellie Goulding
   Lights
M83
   Midnight City
Feist
   My Moon My Man
Gotye
   Somebody That I Used to Know
Miranda Lambert
   The House That Built Me
Atlas Genius
   Trojans
Two Door Cinema Club
   Undercover Martyn
   What You Know
Empire of the Sun
   Walking on a Dream
Ray LaMontagne
   You are the Best Thing