Muddy Moose 2017

Let me catch you up:

New job, blah blah blah.

Kids growing up and doing funny things and saying funny things, blah blah blah.

Kids growing up and doing infuriating and saying infuriating things, blah blah blah.

Theater stuff. Funny clips on the internet. Netflix shows you should DEFINITELY watch. Podcasts that if you don't listen to I'm not even sure I can ever talk to you again.

Political stuff (removes cyanide pill from hand, places on counter).

Blah. Blah. Blah blah blah blah.

Okay. Cool. Now you know everything about my life since last August.

And now, Muddy Moose. This is a race I've been itching to do since we moved to this area. Every year it happens in late April and every year, I am either in Florida courtesy of my in-laws or pregnant or recovering from childbirth. (Those last couple only happened 3 times, but pretty much everything lines up that way since 2001).

This year it's a mixed blessing, to say the least, that I am in town for the race (and NOT pre- or post-partum!) My hubs and the fellas are in Florida for the school vacation week but I don't even have a smidgen of the time off accrued to make the trip. So, here I am alone in my house for a week. It's amazing... Everything is so quiet! And clean! But, I'm sure their trip will feel about four days too long cuz I already get the sense that I'm gonna miss them a big chunk. (Shut up! No YOU'RE watching Pokemon episodes and leaving dirty socks in the living room!)

So, Muddy Moose is a trail race. Runners can choose between the 4 mile and 13-ish mile races. Each year the race varies greatly, not because the course necessarily changes (though I think the longer one does) but because the course conditions go 1 - 10 on the mud scale. This year was a 8 or 9 out of 10. It. Was. INSANE! And amazing.

My amazing started the afternoon before because Lauren, my best running friend, made the trek from Burlington, VT. She stayed with me and we got to hang out - JUST US! - to talk jobs and kids and running and family and eat yummy food and watch Kimmy Scmidt on The Netflix and GO TO BED SUPER EARLY!! I mean, c'mon!

Sunday morning proved to offer up perfect weather. We are still pre-black fly season  by a couple of weeks so the blue skies and 50-ish degree start was fabulous with no asterisks or explanatory footnotes. I won't go into many details about the race itself because I'm not sure I can sound sincere - it was THAT good an experience. That good, despite, I have to say, the fall (trip?) Lauren took right at the start - splat flat on her face onto the pavement. And I had my own drama when I turned my left ankle at mile 2 in that way that takes you a couple of minutes to assess how well you're going to be able to shake it off. It was OK but today it is pretty ouchy and, oddly enough, my right side is super sore from my shoulders all the way down to my calves. I have to assume I overcompensated to favor the ankle...? Whatev, Bev, we were and are Warriors so it's fine.

When not falling or almost falling, we enjoyed some hilarious scrambles and even a couple of miles on dirt roads that were a decent pace. There were literally places where we had to cross in crotch-level water. Lauren was millimeters away from losing her shoe in one pond but she managed to bring it up with her foot. That would have been a fun scavenger hunt! On one descent, in fact, I crab walked it because I (wisely) wore pretty crappy shoes and I could NOT get my feet to grip the ground. It was hilarious and only mildly terrifying. We stopped at water stations and chatted with the volunteers. Truly no reason to drink and run. 

One universal truth, no matter the pace among all the runners: SUPER hungry after the race. Sounds dumb, because, of course you would need to refuel after that kind of race, but this was like a SPECIAL kind of starving. And other runners mentioned the same phenomenon. We had eaten a good breakfast and taken in gummies on the course, but something about that challenge really got to us - and everyone - in the belly. So, after hosing off we went into town and did some serious damage on breakfast AND dessert foods. No regrets.

These pics - not QUITE in the muddiest or wettest spots on course - were taken by the great and generous Josh Spaulding reflect exactly the feeling we had on the trail on this amazing day. Here is his write up but I must pull the quote that expresses my performance: ".... and Phoebe VanScoy-Giessler of Tuftonboro placed 62nd in a time of 2:56:03 to round out the official finishers from the local communities." I came in LAST! Well, not literally, but last of anyone who lives any where near here. I feel weird about not feeling weird about that. Honestly, though, anyone who got through that course in ANY time at all was pretty bad ass. 

Thanks for the pics, Josh!

Josh was LITERALLY at on Oriole's game IN Baltimore the night before this race. He made the planes, trains and automobiles all the way back to Wolfeboro to cover this race. And maybe he had other reasons, but, ya know, still!

Lauren is training to pace a friend in a fast marathon over Memorial Day Weekend and she was coming off of a 40+ mile week of training - BEFORE this race. And she still, of course, crushed the course... once she faced facts and tramped the through mud instead of trying to avoid it!

If you've lost that lovin' feeling for running, I highly recommend a trail race. Hell, if you HAVEN'T lost that lovin' feeling for running, I STILL recommend a trail race. Egos need not apply.

Perfect. Part 2: Race Day

To hear about the couple of practically perfect days we made prior to Marathon Monday, check out Part 1 of this post. Here, we begin with the Big Day.

After two beautiful Boston days with cool-but-not-cold temps and delicious sunshine, race day dawned blustery and cold, as forecast. Lauren spent a hilarious amount of time deciding between wearing running tights or shorts. She decided on the tights. Definitely the tights. Until she changed her mind and it was obvious that she should wear the shorts. But then again, tights might be better... Spoiler alert: she wore the shorts and it was the right call.

I had not prepared for the windy, raw weather in my packing so I made an impulse buy at (Won't You Take Me To...) NIKETOWN on Sunday. I was aghast at the $110 price tag for women's tights... and then I went upstairs and found the girls' section. Not quite as high quality, maybe, but I scored a pair of size large capri tights for $30. Coulda been cheaper at Target or Kohls, but I was not in a Kohls-adjacent vicinity. And I will wear them a million times more.

Lauren snapped a pic of me so my friends and family could try to spot me on the live finish line webcam. You will note the pink, which is in honor of my cousin, Polly and the many other breast cancer patients we have known and loved. You can see the pink boxing glove hanging off my bib number. It's from a "Fight Like a Girl" party that was held for Polly after she told her cancer had returned.

The shirt is Lauren's and it is Team in Training, a fundraising marathon training group. They do great work.... I felt like a tool on the race course bc many people cheered for me because of the shirt. Gah! I am a fraud!

We had breakfast in the hotel. It was a buffet-breakfast-comes-with-the-room-but-we-are-going-to-bill-you-for-it-and-see-if-you-notice situation. Really delicious stuff, actually, but kind scummy/scammy IMHO.

Final 'click' before we hit the shuttle.

Caught up with the boys & Scott briefly before we headed out. Sweet, sweet boys!

Sweet, sweet husband.

With plenty of extra layers for tossing, we headed to the lobby where we had signed up for the shuttle to the starting line. It was well worth the $20 because it meant we didn't need to take the long T ride into Boston, board a school bus, and then take the REALLY long bus ride back out to Hopkinton. Some nice chatter with other runners of various ages, goals and talkativeness. (I was NOT the most yackity on the ride, believe it or not!)

One wrinkle was that the driver was not able to get us to Athletes' Village. Like, not even CLOSE. Like, over a MILE away. This would have been OK because we had plenty of time, but Lauren and I HAD. TO. PEE! We seriously thought about making pals with a friendly neighborhood tree or shrub, when we came upon this beauty:

It was kind of like a locally owned Whole Foods. Totally clean. Totally empty of customers. Totally no questions asked . It was PERFECT and made the rest of the long walk much  more bearable. 

Empty of bladder, we made the rest of the walk to Athletes' Village quite happily. We went through security, paused for pics, and headed straight for... the portapotty line. Where we waited in line for slightly longer than forever and Lauren said something like, "I just hope it doesn't start raining until we get to the starting line." (FORESHADOWING!) We pee'd and then... got RIGHT back into the portapotty line. Yes, that seems like a lot of peeing but believe it or not, by the time we got to the front, we had to go AGAIN. It 's a very special super power. Don't question it.

Set Your Dorkness to 11.

Final Prerace Selfie. Who's worried?

When our Wave (3) was called to the starting line, I was startled and delighted by how many folks from the neighborhood were out and cheering for us... and we were JUST walking to the start. The volunteers were just as positive, offering to take any clothes were ready to ditch (they collect them for donation). Before we knew it, it was raining (See: FORESHADOWING) and Lauren and I were both cursing her previous comment. 

And then, we started. 

Much has been said about the Boston Marathon course. Mostly, as far as runners are concerned, are Heartbreak Hill and "It starts off with a lot of downhills so you have to hold yourself back a little.

I'll get to the former thought later, but about the latter, I gotta say - never, ever, did I feel like I was holding myself back. I had a nice taper of 3 or so weeks so I should have felt like my horses were jumping to get out of the gates. I didn't. I didn't exactly feel like I was pushing it, but I also did not feel like I wanted to go faster.

Truth be told, I think I had two opposite things happening as the gun went off. I was the most psychologically and emotionally ready for the this marathon than any other I had done. IT was the Big Thing. IT was the dessert I got to enjoy after working so hard to qualify (again)... to recover from The Fall... to survive the Bastard Known As Winter 2014-15. I just wanted to get on the course with the other athlete's and live the race at long last.

But, I was also the least physically fit I had ever been before a marathon. I knew I could get through the course, that was not a concern, but I also knew this was not going to be a speedy effort. All of the issues from the above paragraph pretty straight-forwardly explain why I maybe wasn't my tip-top best. I am not sad or annoyed with myself about this. I don't think I had a lot of better options for getting myself in PR shape. I'm just, ya know, sayin'....

Anyway, the race goes off and sometime in the first mile Lauren and I dare to maneuver ourselves out of our extra clothes and get them over to the side for charity collection. I immediately realize I have to pee. Great. A few miles tick by. I am noticing plenty of the downhills people talk about, but I'm also noticing that there's no lack of uphills either. Huh. Also I am noticing that it never completely stops raining and neither does the wind ever really stop blowing.

I pretty much did exactly what I had set out to do: soak it in. The first mile of the marathon alone had more spectators and energy than any other race I have ever done. Like, all 26.2 miles of any other race. It was a feeling of triumph and joy

The mass of heads going East in down the road is just breathtaking. I've seen pictures of it but there's nothing like seeing it in real life. I know it wasn't a million people, but honestly, if you had asked me and I had know idea that there were "only" 7,000 or so people in that wave, I would have guessed the number to be in the hundreds of thousands. Like Barbie said, "Math is hard."

Lots of the early part of the course goes through towns where people are already up and partying. Biker bars, front lawns, churches... it's amazing. There are plenty of less populated areas, too, which make a girl strongly consider finding a shrub to squat behind. 

I asked Lauren a couple of times what our pace was and she said we were at 8:45 or 9:00 or whatever. I still really had to pee. I was still loving all the humanity around me (guy dressed as Olaf; guy who was running the course for the 26th time, and oh, this was his second time THAT day because he started at 4AM at the finish line, turned around and was not heading back; mobility impaired runners with their guides....), the chatter from runners and spectators (including Santa Claus and a very inebriated dude carrying a beer down the street and trying to give a pep talk to a runner who was clearly having a very had day out there), the little kids looking for high fives and giving their count as they competed with their friends to score them. But, I still really really had to pee!

Finally... finally!... around mile 9 or so there were a row of port-o-potties that didn't seem to be all occupied. By then Lauren said she would like to go too, so we scooted off the road and there, like an Angel from Heaven, was a volunteer pointing out to runners which johns were unoccupied. (Whoever she is, she might be my favorite person on earth. She definitely was at that moment!)

Our strategy to take in energy gels every 5 miles went well. I discovered along the way that I could not deal with whatever flavor of Gatorade they were serving (Buuurp with a little barf. Nice!) so I stuck with water after that. Nothing hurt too much. The Wellesley 'scream' was fantastic and I blew kisses to lots of young ladies whose mothers would not at all like the suggestive signs they were holding up. Tsk tsk. (Titter, titter). But this whole time I was only thinking of mile 17, cuz that's where where my family would be. And there they were!

Poor Gabe. It was so wet and so cold. He was a trooper. His dad was a straight up Miracle Worker. (Mom took these pics, not me... in case you were confused...)

I asked for a banana. They came bearing bananas. Four of them, actually!

Mom and Dad were down the road a bit from Scott and the boys so I am searching for them here, while trying to eat a banana.

There was a barrier but I wanted at least grab my parents hands to connect with them. mission accomplished! 

That encounter gave me a great boost, but things don't get much easier in a marathon after mile 17. They get harder. And of course, this is where the Real Hills began. Thankfully, this is also where living in a very hilly region of our fine nation really pays off. There's no such thing as a training run around here that is not also a hill run. The Newton Hills were no joke, but Lauren and I pounded up each one, focused and passing folks all over the place. And remember, we were passing people who started the race around the same time we did, which means they had a qualifying time about the same or better than ours. POW! It was super hard but super motivating to never, ever stop.

Among the hills I was also looking forward to mile 20 where I knew another friend would be. Ellie is a lifelong family friend (formerly my babysitter, poor dear). She has been a Boston Regular for (sommmme??) years in order to support a friends who raises money (I THINK for Mass General, but I'm not sure...) through the race. She always cheers at mile 20. She is a music therapist with a theater streak a mile long so I heard her LOUD AND CLEAR when I came upon her. I even managed to scoot over to her and say "THIS IS OUR MOMENT!" because I promised her I wasn't gunning for a great time and I would try to get in a squeeze. Yay!

"I see Ellie!"

And then, guess what? The hills continued! And we continued to rock up them pretty well. Our running joke through the course was about how many miles we had left to run. At mile 13, for example, "Hey, Phoebe, you wanna do a half marathon today?" "Sure, just let me do a .1 mile warm up and we'll start." We cracked ourselves up with this many many times. When we hit mile 23, however, neither of us joked about having a 5K left. Neither of us found it amusing. We both HATE 5Ks because they are just hard hard hard all the way from start to finish. Nope. No 5K joke. We were not in a good place. I was, frankly, thinking, "Screw it. There's no reason to run faster. I'm gonna finish when I finish." But I also kept thinking of the kids at school waiting to watch me on the webcam. If I didn't cross before 3:15 or so they would not see me. I would be a tool!

But then, we hit Boston. And the crowds were getting more and more excited. And someone in the crowd said something I really needed hear: "YOU DIDN'T TRAIN YOUR ASS OFF THROUGH THIS CRAP WINTER JUST TO GIVE UP NOW!"

That did it. I focused and brought everything I had to the finish. Well, some of my energy went to the spectators, who I grinned at and fist pumped to get them cheering for me. We continued to pass lots of people at this point. We got to the mile to go mark and I felt like a rock star. (Okay, a tired, sweaty, stinky rock star. But a rock star none the less.) We got to Hereford, took that famous right turn and I started to get emotional. I am not really a crier, but I was just overwhelmed. We took the left on Boyleston and the finish line was in sight. WHAT??!?!?  At that moment, Lauren heard her name called in the crowd. It was her husband and kids!! She did not know they would be there. A beautiful surprise... and she almost turned back to talk to them - but we went on.

We were then just 30 or so yards from the finish line, realizing we made it in under 4 hours, when the announcer asked for... a moment of silence in honor of the victims from 2013.

Okay. I'll admit, my first thought was, WAIT! I want to whoop and be excited. This is not what I wanted at ALL!

Then I remembered when 2013 happened I said to anyone who would listen that the time the bombs went off would have been almost certainly the time I would have been crossing the finish line. I was right. They had the moment of silence at the exact times the bombs went off. I was crossing the finish line. Whoa. Goosebumps.

My confused/deflated feeling quickly subsided because literally when we were 1 step away from the line the announcer said, "And now let's hear a mighty roar" (or something like that, because what I heard was "Let's hear it for Phoebe & Lauren rocking this freakin' marathon and passing like a jillion people in the last 6 miles!!!!"

Yeah, pretty sure he said that.

3:57:20. Finish line photo. Jay Leno, you can have your chin back now....

I promised you a two-parter. And here I am way past my bedtime and I'm just getting to the end of the race. There's SO MUCH MORE to tell. So, Much. MORE!

(Eventually)... The Agony of De-Finger

About a week and a half ago I decided my next post - whenever I got to it - was going to be "A Love Letter to Community Theater".  To sum up: Playing the Cat in the Hat in Seussical was definitely a role-of-a-lifetime and possibly the one I was best suited for: run around like a maniac, make a huge mess, cause trouble, improv at will, and basically have a blast. Oh, and sing a whole lot but not anything that has to sound real pretty or like you know what you are doing. OK! Sounds great. Audiences were fantastic. Elliott was a model theater citizen AND a joy to watch on stage - so they tell me. And it was one of those beautiful occasions when the people you encouraged to come to the show really, truly had a BLAST and left feeling joyful and entertained. Ka-ching.

Being a dork during the entre' act.

E in one of his MANY roles: The Elephant Bird. Stole.The.Show!

A small taste of the amazing set and costumes.

But Seussical was SO three days ago. So, then I decided the title of my next post HAD to be "Why I Hate 5Ks and Will Surely Keep Doing Them Anyway". See, one of the people I harangued  into coming to the show was my BRF, Lauren, who made the trek from 3 hours away in Vermont. She was happy to come but also suggested we might do the local 5K on Saturday, too, cuz, ya know... BRF is Best RUNNING Friend. As fate would have it, I also got my first-ever FAN LETTER after the first weekend of shows from a little boy who was going to be at the race. That sealed the deal. I decided to run the race. It was about 2 degrees outside (or 25 degrees, but there WAS a wind chill factor) and it was ALL UPHILL (there was one series of hills but I REALLY didn't enjoy them) and there were rabid dogs all along the course. (No, there weren't.) ANYWAY, Lauren SAID she was going to run conservatively but promptly took off like a bat outta hell and taunted me to join her. I was not in any shape to keep her pace but it DID get into my head enough that I had a pretty good race. Still, 5Ks are HORRIBLE and I HATE them. But then they are over pretty quickly and you get amnesia and surely find yourself doing another one soon enough....

The boy in front wrote me the 'fan' letter. It was his 9th birthday. He had hoped to meet Elliott. So, we showed up with the hat, a card signed by the cast and crew and a Seussical pin for him. If he and Elliott ran the kids' 2K as fast as they talked they would have broken world records! SO sweet....!

Lauren won our age group and I managed to squeak out 3rd. Woo hoo! All the frigid temps were worth it when we were able to sit with some coffee and baked goods afterward. 

But people can only take SO much running talk so as of yesterday this post was DEFINITELY going to be "Running Out of Limbs to Injure". Cuz on Sunday I woke up with an "Old Lady Shoulder". I literally could not raise it up without help from my other arm. It was freakish. Blessedly, the flute player in Seussical is also my chiropractor (gotta love small town livin'!) and she set me straight so I could get through the show. But, then Monday (yesterday) it was TERRIBLE. I couldn't even open a door knob with my right arm. Forget about trying to pick up Gabe or do something as skillful as shift my car from Park to Reverse. (One of the few occasions on which I am thankful I don't drive a stick shift!!) It was a lot better today but I had already managed to squeeze in an appointment with my PT guy. The verdict? I slouch. And I sit for long periods at my lap top with my arms out too far from my body and my eye gaze too low. (As I am doing right now, as a matter of fact!) He thinks the problem has built up over a long period and probably an awkward position in Saturday night's sleep was the last straw. As long as it doesn't bother me to swing my arms (which, as of tonight, it doesn't) I am good to run. I just need to ice it once a day and do a few stretching exercises. I'll get some strength training stuff in the coming weeks to help keep this problem at bay. Hopefully for ever....

But no, NONE of those things are what this post is about  because TONIGHT we had a somewhat epic tragedy/comedy play out. It features our hero, Elliott, and his nemesis, wooden train tracks. It seems that Elliott has, in the past, taken to sticking his fingers in the round spaces in the toy tracks. You know, the slot where the knobby thing fits in to connect the next track? Previously this has always worked out OK for him. Apparently, sometime between the LAST time he did that and tonight, his finger got wider.

The poor kid came into the dining room and, trying to remain calm, started to cry. "It doesn't hurt, I just can't get it off!" And this wasn't just any track, It was a BRIDGE, so we are talking wood and a lot of made-in-China's best plastic around it. Here's what we tried:

1. Cold water. (It would reduce the swelling and the thing would come right off.... Nope.)
2. Soap. (Scrub it up a little and it will slide right off.... Nope.)
3. Butter. (Rub that greasy goodness on there real thick. It will slip right off... Nope.)
4. Panic. (This is the point when Elliott started to freak, on and off. That also did not help get it off).
5. Ice. (See #1. Nope).
6. Get the plastic off and hope that would make the wood easier to separate at the place his finger was stuck. Got some off but not all of it. Hurt E too much to keep trying it, so... Nope.
7. Hammer and flat head screw driver. (Scott tried to "chisel" the major section of the bridge away so we would at least be dealing with a smaller object. That was too much vibration for E. He started freaking out again. So, NOPE.)
8. Hand saw. This was LITERALLY Elliott's idea. I think Scott and I were both thinking it would really put him over the edge if we tried it. But, after a few attempts, starts and stops, the major section of the bridge was removed and we were just left with a small section. At this point Scott used his finger as a 'safety' so E knew that Scott would stop cutting long before he hit E's flesh. When he got close enough, I was able to break the wood and release the finger.

Sadly, this was all a little too alarming to poor E at the time to document it photographically. I WISH it was on video. Maybe a reenactment is in order.

Or not. Yeah. Probably not.

So, that's enough excitement at our house for now. Happy Thanksgiving!

Two more days!... (and some barfing)

There's nothing like a violent stomach bug to stimulate a hardcore house disinfecting session. And for some reason, with me, these intestinal extravaganzas always stimulate a blog post. I guess a part of me knows what the public wants: vomit and diarrhea. And believe me, beginning Friday afternoon, we had plenty of that to go around.

Actually, it probably goes back to Tuesday morning. Gabe woke up 'stinky' and I thought it was caused by the olive oil I used on his head the night before to try to get rid of his horrible cradle cap. (Non-parents: Google it. It's a thing. AND.... the olive oil, along with a follow up with coconut oil, worked!) We don't buy very fancy olive oil, so I thought maybe it went rancid. (Now, now, don't call social services: I DID wash his hair thoroughly after I massaged his scalp with the stuff, but olive oil does not go lightly into the night. Or the shampoo and down the drain.) So, I gave him another bath (holy change of routine Batman! He was NOT happy about this AM schedule switch) to try to blow out the stink. When I went upstairs to get his clothes for the day (and turned on the lamp for the first time) I found... barf all over his crib.

Ooops. Guess we know what made him so stinky.

But, he seemed to be feeling alright, if a little cranky about the bathtub sitch, so we chalked it up to something not sitting well from the night before and moved on with our day. And our week.

Upon reflection, he was pretty off for a couple of days after that behavior-wise. He wasn't loving his meals or snacks and he was easily upset. But, ya know, he's TWO so we all (including daycare) just figured he was being, well, TWO.

Cut to Friday morning. Elliott, almost 8 and almost-always Mr. Chirpy, was devastated when I asked him to go upstairs and turn off the lights before we left for school. He complained of a stomach ache (or a 'stomach egg' as he calls it) when we got to school. I chalked THAT up to his 9:00 bedtime (fairly recently extended from 8:00) and his continued pre-6:00 wake up time. Long week. "Late" nights. End of the school year changes of routine.... He was just overtired and emotional. Plus, he made it through the school day, so I was totally right.

Wrong.

Thank GOODNESS he got weepy Friday afternoon. Thank GOODNESS he said he just wanted an apple juice when I offered to buy him a snack on our dreadful-but-won't-we-be-glad-when-it's-done trek to get groceries after school. Thank GOODNESS I decided that maybe he was legitimately not feeling good....  Because instead of heading out for a long afternoon and evening in the car and in the stores, we went straight home whereupon he barfed. And barfed again. And spiked a wee fever. 

And as these things often do, midst my clean up of his puke and preparing dinner for the people at our house who were not currently coughing their cookies, I realized that I was a little off myself. I decided to skip dinner and focus on getting through the Gabe part of the evening. I ALMOST made it. But my intestines were ready to party just a bit before night-night. 

I won't go into additional details, but let's just say ALL of us had at least some form of this abominable abdominal party going on this weekend. Scott and I spent most Saturday swapping off who was up out of bed and who was on Gabe duty. The older kids were basically on their own: Elliott never leaving the couch, really, and Tommy - less disabled than the rest of us but mildly suffering - enjoying a Minecraft session beyond his wildest dreams. To be honest, I definitely had more un- or barely-conscious time than he did. This thing was just plain killer and sapped every ounce of life out of me. 

I hear Saturday was a brilliant day weather-wise, but I don't think any of the Giesslers could confirm that.

So, today we all woke up feeling whole lot better. Which is a good thing because from about 6:30 this morning until about an hour ago, we were in full-on de-germination mode. 

Thank goodness that's all behind us and we'll never have another stomach bug in this family. 

But, enough barf-o-rama talk. Let's focus on something that makes me feel less like barfing and more like doing back flips: I get to run in two days!! It's going to be epic. (Or it's going to be horrible). I am going to feel great. (Or I'm going to feel horrible). I am so ready. (Or I am so horribly un-ready).

It's actually hard to believe that the time has finally (legitimately) come. I had these visions of acquiring incredible abs and Michelle Obama-esque arms while my knee was being stupid and preventing me from running. Come to find out, you can't just order those suckers up from Amazon. You have to actually DO the damn push ups and planks. Who knew? So, while I am by no means completely out of shape, I am certainly not the specimen I had hoped I would be as I start up the running journey again. 

It's like I just met myself. Shoulda seen that coming.

Another important decision I have made: I have chosen my 40 mile challenge. I will be running Ghost Train Ultra Marathon on October 25 (and into the 26th, if I decide to be totally hard core and run long). Although I loved the idea of doing my 40-miler on March 15 with my friends and family all there for me - and basically for me alone. But, this race is perfect for this re-boot for many reasons:

a. It's only $50! (WHAT?!?! That's NOTHING for a race of this length). 

b. It's a flat-ish out and back 15 mile course.

c. Gu and fluids and stuff will be available every 3.5 miles, so I don't have to plan out my nutrition and hydration too much.

d. I have 30 hours to get it done, so even if I walk the whole way, I don't have to worry at all about pace. (Many runners are attempting to do 100 miles, hence the long race time)

Most excitingly:

e. I have MANY pals (mostly from my Reach the Beach adventure) running it with me!! Granted, we probably won't be running WITH each other for the most part, probably, but this out and back course assures us that we will be in touch frequently through out our prospective journeys.

I am completely distracted right now. The Tonys are on. If you missed Hugh Jackman hopping for 4-minutes straight, then I am very sorry for you. I gotta go now..... 

Hugh's OK.... But NPH is still my fave.

(Belated) Yeee Ha!

Hard to believe the Smuttynose Rockfest Marathon was already a week ago. And harder to believe that it went so well. And hardest to believe that given how well it all went, it took me this long to write a follow-up post. 

I can see from the blank expression on your face that this is not shocking to you. More shocking would be if I'd actually had my sh*t together and posted earlier!

Hanging in the car before the race. It was NOT balmy! Which turned out to be good....

To cut to the chase, here are the stats:

Time: 3:40:11 
Pace: 8:25
Place: 207 of 952
Place in Division: 27 of 165
Place in Gender: 67 of 521
Halfway Split (marathon): 1:49:30

Most importantly, this data means

I qualified for Boston by almost 5 minutes and I had a personal record by almost 4 minutes. 

It was, by all accounts, an amazing race for me. Since Boston is full for 2014 already, I have to set my sights on April 2015. I HOPE that this fairly decent margin beyond BQ for my age group (3:45:00) is good enough. For 2014 I've heard that runners needed to be about 2:00 faster than the official qualifying time, so I feel pretty good about my time. But, ya never know.

I am exceptionally grateful to the best BRF/coach in the Universe for doing all my thinking for me on race day. She not only kept track of pace for me and talked me through the ugly miles (about 16 - 19), she did it all on FOUR HOURS OF SLEEP! (She had AL East play off tickets. What are ya gonna do? NOT go see the Red Sox?!) At various miles on the course she described what Boston and other favorite races of hers looked like at that point in the race ("we are going through Wellesley now, girls will be screaming and offering you a kiss"). She reminded me to fuel and hydrate. She reminded me (not very successfully) to SHUT UP so that I would have some energy for the tough miles of the race. She also let me borrow her Boston Marathon visor because I left my hat at home. (DUH!) This became a very big bummer for her along the course because of the weather....

....which was was cool and damp and at times downright pouring. (I had agreed previously to hold my hand over Lauren's brow if it started raining during the race but she was gracious enough to reject my offer to do so when it actually started raining). We were lucky that only one brief stretch of the course went into the fierce wind. We were also lucky that the course looped through a few neighborhoods a few times because many families parked out in front of their homes and it was  nice to recognized some faces along the way. One guy was blaring "We Are the Champions" out his front door. Volunteer groups at the different aid stations were old pals the second time around. Being an attention whore, I made a sign with names on it for Lauren and I so that people could cheer for us by name. Only a couple of people did, but it was such a boost when it happened. In fact, we ran by one woman about 4 times. The first time she saw us she shouted my name and I made a big deal out of it. So, the next 3 times I saw her she went nutty for me and it was hilarious and awesome and, for me, super helpful. I saw her at an unexpected spot at mile 24 or so and it was like seeing a long lost friend.

The GPS on my phone once again was completely bonkers. It was far too generous with time and distance so I had to learn to ignore the voice telling me I was doing 8:06 miles. (I can also ignore the fact that it said I ran over 27 miles, all told). I am not sure what the pacing was for individual miles but I know we were very consistent  Mile 1 was about 7:58 and mile 26 was 8:01 or 8:02. Considering I wanted to punch the world in the throat by mile 26, I was very happy with that pace!

Physically, my body did weird things. My back got messed up on the drive down to the course. It was tight and 'stabby' as we walked around, stretched and 'warmed up'. (Seriously, I am not gonna warm up for a marathon. I think we can count miles 1 - 20 as a warm up, doncha think?) And almost from the first step of the race my right foot was numb. I get this same feeling in my feet when I do the Elliptical machine for more than 30 minutes or so, but this was very strange for a run. Eventually the tingling/numb feeling made it's way through my entire leg. I ran the whole race waiting for disaster to strike based on this physical symptom, but nothing transpired. 

Aside from those annoyances, the first half marathon was amazing. I would relive those 13 miles a hundred times if I could. I marveled out loud about how friendly and kind runners are. While no one will replace my true BRF, I made a few BRFFFMs (Best Running Friends For Five Minutes) I just made it up, but you can totally use it. I bet if you are a runner you know exactly what I'm talking about. All races are like that, but particularly marathons. Many people asked us about the signs on our backs (BQ or Bust 3:45:00) and wondered if we were a pace group. People overheard our chatter and joined in on all manner of subjects: weather, Boston, ultra runners (who are clearly far crazier than we are), signs held by spectators (my favorites included "The Pats are on at 1:00. Hurry!" and "You are doing this shit" and "GO, STRANGER!")

Of course, if the whole marathon was that enjoyable, it would mean I wasn't pushing myself hard enough. And, zoinks, miles 16 - 19 or 20 were just HARD. I don't have any specific things to report about why, just that my right leg continued to be a jerk and, well, I had been running pretty hard for 16 - 19 miles and there was pretty much no end in sight. 

Scott and the boys were by the side of the road at about 19 which was surprise (they had planned on mile 22) and a bit of a boost. I was afraid this meant they wouldn't be at 22 with the banana they had promised but, as I should have known, they were right where they said they would be. I gnawed the banana for about a mile (and got several kind of hilarious photos from the professional photogs on the course). Then, it was basically time to dig and get it done.

One of the few frustrations I had with other folks on the course was in those last couple of miles. At that point we were catching up with and passing 1/2 marathon walkers. I think it's fantastic that people choose to register and walk a 1/2 marathon. Great, healthy activity. BUT... at this point in the course there was a lovely, wide sidewalk available to them. These were not power walkers on a mission. These were pals who were walking together. And they were 2 or 3 abreast and they were IN.THE.WAY. I managed not to grumble at any one out loud but I came close. Lauren and I were in great shape compared to many runners at this point so we were having a hard (but enjoyable) enough time dodging runners who we needed to pass. Having to add walkers to our list was very frustrating. 

The final mile was endless, of course. We could see the tent at the finish faaarrrrrrr before we were close because the road curved along the sea shore. This was a huge tease and fairly cruel. But, we continued to dig deep and pass people. This included one very nice young woman who told us sincerely and kindly as she passed us at about mile 24 "You two have  been inspiring me for this whole race!" We were happy to hear that at the time but I did give myself a mental high five when we blew by her sometime in mile 26. Lauren and I both remembered later how nice it was to get by her again... not because we are nasty or competitive but because... well, because she was about 25 years old and these Old Broads like to pass the Young Chickadees!

As we got to the finish line I saw that we were well under 3:45 (we started in the 2nd wave and the clock said 3:42:something). It was such a relief to realize that those months and months of training and those insane mornings of hills and double digit miles before school all led to this outcome. Since late March I have run 766 miles all in pursuit of this goal. I felt fairly confident going into the race that I had completed the right training plan (thank you Train Like a Mother!) and had hit the right paces for those runs (thank you McMillan Pace Calculator!) but there are so many factors that make all the preparation in the world worthless. With the help of Lauren, with the support of my husband, and with a mighty band of supportive friends and family members (IRL and virtual) it happened.

So. Now what? I'm not sure. I did a 4 mile 'systems check' run yesterday morning and a 6 mile 'get me some space from this toddler' run this morning. I think, aside from my hideous toenails, my body has forgiven me the abuse I dealt out last weekend. I am not in a hurry to hit another marathon soon.... althhhoooouuugghhhhh, Lauren says Vermont City is pretty amazing and I COULD make that a 40th birthday goal. 

But, it's still too soon to say. I need to do a better job of strength training and working on my core. (If I had a nickel for every time I've made myself THOSE promises...) I can foresee a half marathon or two more for giggles than anything during the winter months. And then.... we'll see. I'm trying not to rush out of this BQ Euphoria too quickly. Takes more than 6 months to get there, I think I owe myself a couple of weeks of enjoying the victory before I lament that I have no 'next'! 

SO glad to be done. SO glad to have met the goal. SO love my BRF!

The bling, my signs, Polly, the bib and the world's ugliest race shirt. (The flash actually makes the color look brighter and less ugly than it is in real life!) 

My most lasting physical ailment. This toe is actually a lot grosser than it looks. The white at the bottom is pus forming. It has a match on the other foot. Not sure how long it will take them to fall off, but I am hoping it's soon! 

My crew. Troopers, all.

So ouchy. So happy. 

The Lauren Files: Episode 2

Dear Lauren,

Well, I knew I would not be able to keep up with keeping you up with my running. (Huh?) But here I am, back in the safe confines of my house. Scott has the day/night off and he and boys are watching a movie on Netflix as I pretend to watch said movie. (Disney's "Treasure Planet"... Zzzzz. I just keep waiting for David Hyde Pierce to start a sentence with "My Maris....". Otherwise I am just not interested!) So, I'm taking advantage of the of reprieve of my duties to keep you posted.

It was a whirlwind trip to visit my family in New York. The boys and I were able to see a large chunk of my family, immediate and extended. My little hometown does a bang-up job with the Fourth of July and my mom organized us into a float, "101 Dalmatians." We learned yesterday that we won first place for "Funniest." I'm guessing this distinction had something to do with Mom leading the hoards (we are talking 40-ish 'puppies' on or walking with this float!) over to every fire hydrant along the way so they could 'go'. Hilarious. Or, maybe it was my sister Heather and her Drag Queen-worthy make up job/portrayal of Cruella D'Ville.

There are MAYBE 5 people in this photo who aren't related to me. Yup. Big family. (Notice me in the middle trying to lead everyone in panting like dog? Not many takers!)

My sister, Heather. Obviously 'shy & demure' runs in the family.

There was so much more to our week, but suffice it to say, we got our cousin/sibling/aunt/uncle/niece/nephew/in-law fix and it was great!

There's always a new t-shirt design for Camp Gungah. Team Giessler representin'! 

A few of the 'campers' enjoying the chickens at Iron Kettle Farm, which is owned operated by family friends.

My running went fairly well, too, actually. I was able to take advantage of Gabe's pack 'n play in my parents' room: I slunk out of the house very early on my run days and got back not too long after he was up. Thanks, Mom!! Here's the lowdown on the last week and a half or so:

Thursday 6/27: This was the morning I was leaving for the endless drive to NYS. The boys stayed at camp with Scott so I got up early and ran about 6 miles. (My GPS keeps tracking me going off the road and is overly generous on distances. Very annoying!) I did that horrendous hill near your former 'compound' and cursed you all the while. It was the perfect hard, middle distance to do before the drive.

Friday 6/28: Family funeral. So very many obligations I had to bag the idea of a run.

Saturday 6/29: "I ran a hilly half marathon before 7AM." This was a great run in my old stomping ground, only MUCH farther than I ever would have run as a kid. Nothing like getting out of bed at 4:45 to get your run on!

Sunday 6/30: Church and life. We called it another rest day.

Monday 7/1: Ran a flat 5 miles 'downtown' at 6AM.

Tuesday 7/2: Did 4 miles plus 8 200M repeats at the end. This was at the track at my former high school... which sadly did not exist when I ran there. I slept in and didn't run till 6:30 this day. Noticing a pattern!?

Thursday 7/4: I celebrated the birth of our nation with my toughest run at 'home'. A 5AM almost 9-miler. The plan called for 8 x 3:30 'hard effort' on hills. I miscalculated the distance this would take me so I ended up going MUCH further than necessary.

Behind me you can see the town. It's not the easiest run up and down there, let me tell ya! But an AMAZING view when you're done.

Friday 7/5: rest day.

Saturday 7/6: S'posta do 16. So exhausted from drive home and so hot outside... did 30:00 on elliptical instead. I regret nothing.

Sunday 7/7: 16.5 (-ish... the battery on my phone died before I finished.) This was a very hilly course from camp. I rocked the 6 miles I was meant to do at race pace but I totally bonked at the end. (Along with my phone, I guess!) Even though I hit the road before 5AM it was humid and the biting flies were vicious little bastards. I had at least planned ahead and placed loads of water and a couple of Gu's on the course the evening before, which was maybe the smartest thing I've done this month. This year, maybe! I was all proud of this running effort and my survival thereof... then I got a text from you saying you paced a friend in a MARATHON that day.... Well then.... Bragging rights detracted. :)

Monday (today) 7/8: I was back up at camp overnight and ran just after 6 this morning. It. Was. Horrid. I felt like gills were the appropriate anatomy structure for the humidity level. And if I thought the flies were bad yesterday, this morning they were out of a horror movie. I took off my shirt so I could use it as a fly swatter. Thankfully there are not a lot of cars driving up and down the rural roads at that hour, but I'm sure the few people who saw me thought I was having some kind of a seizure. The most basic 4 mile course from camp is down the hill two miles and back up the hill two miles. I don't know for sure, but I'm confident I walked more than I ran. I was just plain toast.

Annnnyway, tomorrow is another tough-ish work out. (I'm in denial and I STILL haven't checked the schedule to know for sure what's in store...) I also start teaching 1/2 days of summer school. So, I think I need to go to bed and dream of dry heat, dead flies and recovered legs.

Oh, and no. I still haven't registered for that marathon. Hmmm. Guess I should do that. Tomorrow.

Hastily written and poorly edited, I am your dutiful Running Pal,
Phoebe

Injured runner shame spiral

I have self-diagnosed with many physical maladies, but this morning as I lay in bed was the first time I have self-diagnosed a mental health issue. I needed to get up and move. I needed to do some yoga, some strength training. I needed to sweat and tire out my muscles in a way that wouldn't bother my $(;&" knee.

But I just lay there. I was so cozy and warm in my self pity. (Don't deny it: you've wrapped yourself up in the same fuzzy blanket at times, too!) What I wanted I couldn't have. I wanted to run.

Ya see, on Monday I tried the elliptical for an easy 30 minutes and by afternoon my knee was killing me. Plus I'm still battling bizarre pains in my hip and lower back.

It's possibly, ever-so-slightly, that I may be blowing things out of proportion. Who ME!?!

Tomorrow will be better. Not because I am suddenly cured or self-motivated. It will be better because of this email exchange from my gracious and understanding BRF (best running friend):

Me: I am in an injured runners shame spiral... I could totally get up and do strength training, yoga, etc. and all I do is lie in bed and mope about not running. Could you kick me in the ass, please!?

BRF: Ok, yeah. You need to get your ass moving. You have worked too hard to get your fitness level where it is. Yoga will help mind, BODY and soul. Do it. Lift some weights while you are at it, or use your body weight. Planks are your friend. Strong core....good. :-) how's that?

So, now I will feel obligated to her to get up and move tomorrow. I think that has been the missing ingredient. Here's hoping anyway!