Rugged Maniac 2013

I'm a huge fan of "adventure" races; I think it's much more fun than just running on the road. My sister Diana and I did the Rugged Maniac 5k at Portland International Raceway together.

First we must get our "outfits" on.

August is lookin' good!

I'm so grateful my parents came along - Dad watched my kids and Mom took lots of pictures!

Ready to get RUGGED!

Diana took the time to put on her "Age 21" bracelet and her "Free Beer" bracelet (which she will not need!)...

...then as we heard the final call for our wave to begin, she remembered she hadn't changed into her crappy shoes! Ha ha. 

The first obstacle was climbing through this waist-deep mud pit with a hundred or so other people. 

Diana navigating the uphill barbed wire crawl.

My favorite picture! (Rugged Maniac even posted it on their facebook page.) :)

My mom was only able to photograph a handful of obstacles near the finish line. There were over 20 obstacles over 3.1 miles.

Lots of climbing, lots of mud, tunnels, balance beams, and more.

And the big finish!

That was way more fun than the rest of it - lots of pretty tough challenges.

TA-DA!

We did it.

Rugged chicks!

Madelyn did NOT want a hug from Mommy!

Our amazing photographer and supporter!

Next came the group showers. FREEZING cold water.

We had a little water fight with the guys next to us, and there were bits of debris everywhere, if you catch my drift. 

We can't wait to do this again...thinking about Race the Reaper this fall. It's 6 miles and the obstacles are SERIOUS.  I get excited watching the video on their home page - check it out!  We want my dad to do Rugged Maniac with us next year, he would do great!

The end of running for two

The day before a Clear Blue Easy confirmed what I'd been eagerly awaiting for the previous five months, I ran a 10-kilometer race. It was a Thanksgiving Day "Give-n-Gobble" fundraising run. That means in preparation I had run up to 8-mile training runs while newly pregnant. Over the next few weeks I ran far less, in part because that's normal for me following a race, but mainly because I was very tired and the news of being pregnant made it easier for me to give in to the urge to stay in bed when it was dark and rainy outside. I also did not feel my best--not exactly morning sickness, because I never actually felt nauseous, just a nagging stomachache most days.

By the time I started feeling better and found a way to work some running into daylight hours, it was difficult to get going again. I still have no idea how much of that is attributable to pregnancy and how much a result of the large step back in training.  Most likely it was a combination: pregnancy creating a more significant barrier than usual to bouncing back from inconsistent running.

I continued running about 3 days a week (in addition to Curves and occasional jaunts to the Y) for the next couple of months. In order to stay motivated, I selected a 10k race to run on March 3rd. I always prefer creating a training plan to guide me versus "winging it" each day.  The latter option results in defaulting to the same 3 mile loop at the same easy pace--okay for maintaining fitness but not for progressing.  By mid-February I was actively resisting the increasingly apparent notion that I was not going to be that lady with her 3rd-trimester bump bouncing down the sidewalk.

The hip discomfort was quite minor compared to the havoc being wreaked on my mind.  I was bothered by my slow pace and how difficult running felt. It's as if I could not get enough oxygen or I was tremendously out of shape. Even though I knew I could easily run/walk the 6.2-mile race I'd calendared, a week or so beforehand I decided I didn't want to do that.

I am gradually accepting my body's reality.  Right now I can probably run about a mile and a half before I start requiring walk breaks. Uphill? Forget about it.  Truthfully, the better verb than "running" for what I'm doing is "lumbering."  I'm lumbering on fast-forward.  And it's not because I'm extraordinarily huge. (Side note: since my whiny post last week about feeling fat, I checked my records from the last pregnancy to learn I had already gained 10 more pounds at this point-yikes! I now feel like my bump is just about right, as long as I don't Google Image Search for bellies of the same gestational age because some of those girls don't have any right to even use the word "bump" to label these pics where their stomach is flatter than mine was pre-pregnancy.) The reason I'm lumbering is because the hormone Relaxin is coursing through my body as if it plans to deliver this baby next week. Which means the round ligaments holding my femur inside my pelvis are all loosy-goosy so each step seems to take twice the effort--both for stability and propulsion.

Yeah, I'm a little disappointed not to be a hot pregnant chick in a skort and sports bra who can still bust out a 10k in under an hour. But once again I ask myself, "why?" Who is it that I'm trying to impress or what am I trying to prove?  Other runners I've talked to are impressed I've even kept with it this long. A mother quoted in an article I just read offers this advice to pregnant women: "don't run just because you feel like you have to." I must let go of this self-imposed pressure and listen to my body. A good power walk is just as good of exercise as running and much more practical in my current state.  I am dreading the misery of starting basically from scratch when I'm ready to begin running again this fall.  But a few more weeks or miles now is not going to make that experience any easier.  It is time to go with the flow, accept my limitations, and release this delusion that I am Super Woman.

Frozen legs

It was 32 degrees outside this morning. So I ran eight miles.

Of course, "so" is not the proper coordinating conjunction here; perhaps "yet" would be more appropriate. Sunday morning is about the only time I can semi-conveniently fit in a run longer than 3-4 miles, so I guard the opportunity vigilantly, even when my well-meaning husband tries to encourage me to stay in bed.

Running outside when the temperature is near freezing (or at, in this case) is a very peculiar sensation, at least to me. My skin is tingly-numb from the biting cold, even under my layers and highly functional but not glamorous free running gloves. But my muscles, primarily quads and hamstrings--not the entire body, are saturated with internal warmth from the exertion and resulting circulation being directed there away from my extremities.

It reminds me of a reverse incarnation of Lisa Simpson's fish sticks: "They're burned on the outside but they're frozen on the inside, so it balances out!"

Warrior Dash

Running is good exercise, and I enjoy the challenge of working toward goals for distance and pace. But running does not come easily to my body, and I can't honestly say that I just love running for the pure thrill of it. What I have discovered that I do love enthusiastically is the Adventure Race.  I happened upon the concept last summer when I ran the Tillamook Burn with my friend Sarah. It was love at first knee-deep river crossing.  I vowed to register for as many X-Dog Events (the organizer) as I could manage the following summer. Unfortunately, the timing didn't work out for any of the other events this year except the Tillamook Burn, so I only got to reprise that one awesome course (and the pre-race festivities and camp out the night before!). 

I was disappointed not to have done more of these adventure runs in the summer, so when I saw an ad for the Warrior Dash, I clicked over to their website and could hardly believe my eyes.  I was stoked about this race because it was heavy with obstacles, which is my favorite part of any non-street race.  This event was in September, and I wasn't blogging back then, but it isn't really distant enough history to be considered a "flashback." It's just a late submission. 

My very good friend Barb came all the way out to the Warrior Dash wilderness to cheer me on and take some pictures. I thought the gesture was especially generous when she still decided to come even after I informed her that it cost $10 to park (Seriously, ten bucks! And that is in addition to paying over $50 for the race itself. Sheesh.)

I had a bit of an adventure just getting to the place. First of all, my brain messed up directionally, and I took a wrong turn which forced me to double-back on the freeway, wasting precious time. Then, as I entered North Plains, I remembered about the parking fee, and realized that I did not have any cash. So I pulled into McDonald's, but they did not have an ATM (how is that possible?).  I drove across the street to a gas station. Their ATM was out of service. You've got to be kidding me. I was already short on time.  One more gas station over and I found the cash machine.  To top it off, the traffic entering the event was very thick (and could only have gotten worse as the day went on, as this event was organized into waves of runners starting every 30 minutes). So I arrived later than I wanted to, had to rush across the field of cars, get my race bib and timing chip, and check my backpack. I jogged over to the starting line just as my wave was beginning. I was the last one to start, in fact. 

I happen to love this pre-race photo because not only do I look all clean and happy before starting, but there is also a mega-line of Honey Buckets behind me. It's a perfect scene. 

Being the last to start was a huge bummer, because the trails were very narrow at the beginning, so we were forced to walk.  Very quickly I decided not to accept the congestion as a blockade, but to treat it as the first obstacle.  I proceeded to excuse myself as I weaved around the mostly stationary lines of people in running shorts and costumes.  This wasn't a checkout line, fairness did not have to be observed. 

Sorry the picture is so tiny, I pilfered it from the event photographer's website. 

The "Deadweight Drifter" was one of my favorite obstacles. As you can see, it was very crowded when I reached it, but I took the outside track and was able to make some headway. Floating in the waist- to chest-deep water was a series of large logs over which we had to clamber. My approach was a dive/slither over the top, which proved much faster than the leg-over style I saw others attempting. 

Another obstacle called "Blackout" doesn't look like much from the outside (I am exiting it above) but it was a long, pitch-black tunnel requiring hands-and-knees tactics.  At least the tunnel felt very long--once again, packed in there nose-to-ass with at least a dozen other people made for slow going. But it was inside the tunnel where I felt a sense of camaraderie with the other racers. Not only because my face touched a strangers butt more than once (it was impossible to see, remember), but because people cracked (no pun intended) jokes about the situation and we all laughed together.  

Most of the obstacles back in the woods had no photographer to capture their essence. Some of the more interesting ones include the "Junkyard Jump" in which we scramble over rusted car wreckage (it appeared that they had removed all shards of glass and sharp, twisted metal), two different cargo rope climbs--one at a vertical angle and one horizontal, and "Knee-high Hell," a web of tires on the ground that I mostly walked through because it was just before the end. Also, the muddy hills themselves were so steep that they were among the toughest obstacles.  

The "Warrior Roast" fire hurdles are possibly the most famous part of the dash, or possibly the final mud crawl. 

The mud was so thick, it definitely impeded forward momentum near the finish line.  

I just had to include this picture of my friend Bridget trying to daintily navigate under the barbed wire for the least amount of mud coverage she could manage, while her husband in front of her dove completely under. So great!

Here is my little posse of friends after everyone finished: Blair, Bridget, Jeremy, and my (Blair's wife also came and took pictures, hooray!)

All done, and all muddy. The course was about 3.3 miles. I can normally race that distance on the road in under 30 minutes. Because I was forced to walk part of the first mile, could not physically manage more than a walk on some of the lung-busting climbs, had to slow for execution of about a dozen obstacles, and genuinely did feel exhausted for the last half mile or so, I estimated that I was probably on the course for over 45 minutes. So imagine my surprise when Barb told me that the next wave (which my friends were running) had only started a few minutes before I crossed the finish line. I could not really fathom this to be accurate. 

But it was true. My official time was 32:17.45, or an average of 9:52 per mile. That isn't really very fast, but considering all the stops and walking, I was quite surprised. This pace earned me a spot in the top 100 females in my age group that day: 97th out of 602.  It's a respectable place, for me. 

There was a pond of brown water down the hill where we were allowed to "bathe" off the mud. It was kind of a social experience as well, with everyone laughing and splashing and swimming, grateful that the hard part was finished, but not yet ready to say it was over. 

Some cute guys parked next to me asked if I wanted my picture taken, which I thought was really nice of them! Of course I made a joke that I'd assumed they wanted to take one on their camera, har har. I think I resemble a frog in this picture, however. 

Warrior Dash was an incredibly fun experience, and I am especially glad that I got to share it with some cool friends. 

Falling Down

I would rank falling down among the most humiliating of experiences.

Little ones seem to spend about as much time on the ground as they do upright--stumbling and tumbling regularly as they run and play.  Skinned knees and scraped palms are simply the marks of a joyful childhood.  When you think about it, the average adult human is approximately four times taller than wide, so the occasional misalignment of one's center of gravity should be anticipated and accepted.  But falling down seems to be universally and undeniably awkward, no matter the circumstances.

After receiving a big, concrete-flavored taste of humble pie yesterday morning, I realized that I can't even recall the last time I actually fell down. All the way to the ground. I felt childish and ashamed, and I don't even think anybody saw what happened. Although there's no way to be sure. Perhaps a YouTube search of "hilarious girl eating pavement" is in order.

I was running with Loki and Kezia, my two Siberian Huskies. My dogs are both pretty good running partners, by which I mean that once we are moving they tend to stay focused on forward momentum, usually obey voice commands to slow down or make turns, can run by another dog or human without much distraction, and refrain from pulling, criss-crossing, or other typical canine nonsense. I hold only one leash, which is connected at the far end to a coupler, which then connects to one dog's collar at each end. See figure A.

Fig. A (finishing a run at the beach November 2008)

Yesterday the male dog, Loki, decided that one particular tree could not exist any longer without his personal scent sprinkled upon it.  Occasionally he is unable to control this impulse, and my response is to continue running. Most of the time his business is so efficient that he has returned to his place in front of me before the leash ever pulls taut. Other times I am forced to slow down for a few moments and issue a stern command to keep moving.  But on this particular occasion the circumstances were intricately coordinated so that when he strayed left and I kept running, I basically ran straight through the horizontal coupler while Loki held his position (on three legs, I'm sure) when he felt the tug, and before I realized that a correction of balance was necessary, Kezia was under my ribcage and my elbow was skidding across the asphalt.  See figure B.

Fig. B (my scraped and bruised elbow)

Okay, so it's not really that bad. But the inherent humiliation of falling to which I pointed earlier caused a surprising sequence of emotions. After overcoming the initial shock of being suddenly horizontal, I shouted at Loki, brushed the gravel out of my wounds, and continued to run. I was soon overcome with anger at my poor pet, and actually gave him a little kick in the butt. As if Loki premeditated the event and tripped me on purpose. It was a very childish emotional outburst--attempted retaliation for having caused me harm, both physical and emotional. A few moments later, of course, the remorse settled in and I tried to pet Loki while we ran as penitence for my foolish behavior. 

There were no cars driving by, no people around, but who knows if someone happened to glance out their kitchen window right as my stride became a skid.  The other thing about falling down is that in the eyes of still-upright witnesses, it can be absolutely hysterical.  Common decency suggests that we bite our lips and suppress the guffaws, but come on: haven't you ever seen a falling-down sequence that made you burst into side-splitting laughter (or at least want to)?  For me, the falls that make sustaining common decency a real challenge are those ones that just. keep. going.  The person continues to trip over himself or other objects until you wonder if it's all a carefully orchestrated gag.  But then it's not. And you feel horrible for laughing. You should be ashamed of yourself. Ahem.

So anyway, I fell down. It hurt. But it could have been a lot worse. I wasn't hit by a car, for example, and thankfully the street did not gauge my nicest Nike performance pants.  Possibly because the heroic Kezia helped break my fall.  Hopefully experiences like these will continue to be rare for me. I guess I was due for a good fall--to keep my pride in check.  And now I'll always carry the memory of my intimate encounter with the corner of 13th and Maple. 

When was the last time you had--or witnessed--a good fall? (Sarah, your list of recent falls is limited to 350 words or less. Just kidding!)

Where I've been

I despise this post. The one where I list all the excuses about why I haven't written anything on my blog for--ugh--over two months.  So I'm not going to do that.

I imagine that those individuals who have (or find or make) time to blog consistently are irritated by posts like this in the same way that I detest hearing people explain why they don't exercise regularly.  Exercise is a non-negotiable part of my (almost) daily life--and sometimes I have to sacrifice to make that so.  Waking up before the sun rises. Lacing up my runners to the sounds of rain berating my windowpanes. Squeezing in a few miles after dark. Postponing important work projects.  I bet some people make sacrifices like those in order to keep their blog entertaining and up to date.

The fact is, we all have the same number of hours in a day. While I don't think it can be argued that each person's workload and time commitments vary significantly, in the end, everyone has an opportunity to choose how we spend at least a portion of the minutes in our day.  I could easily list benefits of both regular blogging and regular exercise, but the exercise list would be far longer, so it is a higher priority, along with work and family time.

The hardest part of an extended blog absence for me is getting started again. Just like when someone stops exercising: the motivation and familiarity has diminished. Also, when I'm not writing, I'm also not reading--even my favorite blogs (don't take it personally). But I'm kind of compulsive about not missing anything, so be prepared for a slew of comments from me on your older posts one of these days. 


So while I don't intend to list all of my excuses for not blogging, I did want to share with you one reason that my already limited spare time has recently decreased further: I got a job.

But I already have a job, right? Yes, I run a business, which is definitely a lot of work. But what I'm talking about now is a real live jay oh bee JOB. I have to show up at a specific time to punch a clock, do what I'm told, and earn a meager hourly wage. Now why on earth would I go and do such a thing? Primarily, for research purposes. Basically, I'm spying on a business concept that interests me for the future. But please don't tell my boss.

That's where I've been working for the last three months. And I actually really love it.  After 7+ years of being the boss, it takes a little getting used to not being "in charge." But truly, that is part of the joy of this fun little venture.  If they'd let me, I would be happy to be paid in store credit, actually.

So now I have a part-time job, run a high-functioning business and a team of 8 employees, take care of a household, and be Mommy to a 3-year-old. Oh, and exercise almost every day. Thankfully my husband is very helpful and supportive. Between all that and family time and reading an awesome new book, I'll try to get back on here and form all the ideas I have for blog posts into something coherent.

Thanks for checking in!

You're getting warmer...

While leaders of the global warming pack arrive in Copenhagen by way of 140 private jets and 1200 limousines, some of us are freezing our butts off.

In Portland this morning, a 37-year-old low temperature record was broken when the mercury dropped to a chilly twelve degrees.  I can't go outside without a hat and gloves.  It warmed up to 25 degrees during my run yesterday, and I have to say the feeling of my legs being warm on the inside and numb on the outside was uncomfortably eerie.

In a city where snowfall is rare, flurries on Friday set a new record for early snowfall in Houston.  The previous record for early snow on December 10 was set in 1944 and matched last year.

Baby, it's cold outside. So as long as Climategate's carbon footprint doesn't tip the scales, I think the (thriving) polar bears are going to be okay.

If two Halfs make a whole...

This morning I finished my second Half Marathon run, which by my calculations means I've completed a marathon now, right? No? Okay fine. I'm still pretty proud of the accomplishment.

Actually, the only real motivation I have to ever run a marathon is some self-imposed "peer pressure" because I have so many friends who run them. I have explained before my opinion that running 26.2 miles in one stretch seems a popular form of masochism, although my involvement in and thoughts about running in general have improved somewhat since that post. Even so, I still can't yet fathom that when I crossed the finish line today overcome with grateful relief, I would only be halfway finished, and required to essentially start all over from the beginning and repeat what I just completed. I realize that you don't run a marathon without training longer distances than I have yet to add to my regimen. Finding the time to accomplish those long runs is another big roadblock for me. Running 20+miles requires up to and beyond 4 hours, and because of my husband's work schedule, there is not a morning that I could accomplish a long training run without starting at 3:00 or 3:30am. No thank you. The other option is to sacrifice a large portion of our already limited family time by training in the evening or after dark. Again, the promised agony of a marathon is not worth that sacrifice. My sense of satisfaction is just as gratifying working to improve my 13.1--at least for now.

After running the Helvetia Half in June, I didn't share anything about my experience on this blog. So I thought I would do a little compare-and-contrast. Technically, the Run Like Hell Half Marathon in downtown Portland today was my third Half Marathon, because I walked the Champoeg race in September 2008, when I was just a novice runner. If you missed my three favorite stories from that event, I hope you'll check them out because I still laugh when I recall them.

I had two objectives for today's Halloween-themed race: 1) Cross the finish line feeling strong, rather than shaking and crying as I did at Helvetia. 2) Improve upon my Helvetia finish time.

My biggest concern was that these goals appeared to be in direct competition with one another, their outcomes proportionately, inversely related. Allow me to elaborate.

I raced out of the gates at Helvetia, running the first four miles at an average pace of 9:21 per mile. That might not sound too impressive, but it's faster than my last 5k. My pace then slowed between 10- to 11-minutes for most of the next five miles, but in the middle of mile 10 I had to walk for long stretch uphill. I was really running out of gas, but ran the last 3.1 miles at 11:06 average pace. Each of the friends who I left in the dust at the starting line passed me, one by mighty one, as I struggled to make it to the finish line. I felt awful at the end--and literally shed tears of joy that it was finally over. It wasn't until later that I figured out I had actually achieved my sort-of goal of finishing in 2:15 (and 25 seconds, to be exact). I had assumed that my long walking stretch and slow pace toward the end had abandoned that possibility, but my earlier speed had made up the difference.

I did not want to recreate that scenario today, but believed that I would slow toward the end of 13 miles either way, and thus worried that without having a few fast miles under my belt in the beginning, I would never beat my time from the last Half. Objective #1 took first position in the end, however, and I made the conscious decision to listen to my body better and focus on a strong race, even if that meant I would be slower.

I was disappointed to learn today that I can't use my iPod's "lap" feature in conjunction with the Nike+ sensor (perhaps I should include that in my review of it), so I wasn't able to track my average pace each mile. It would be interesting to compare how those stats affected my overall times for both races. I do know that I completed my first two miles today at around 10:30 and 10:15 pace, compared with 9:03 and 9:11 in June. The drawback of having the ability to view my pace throughout the race is that I could berate myself for that discrepancy or worry about my anticipated overall time. But I focused on the knowledge that after a 4-mile gradual climb, I would be running down hill for most of the following 3 miles. I knew I would be able to make up a lot of time then if I could reserve the energy to do it.

And I was successful! I finished today in 2 hours 11 minutes, over 4 minutes better than my Helvetia time. In spite of (actually, because of) starting slow and maintaining a more even exertion, I was able to shave 21 seconds from my average mile pace.

Oh, and I was definitely relieved to reach the finish line--exhausted and in a little bit of pain--but I did feel strong and proud. And instead of being the last of my friends in the race to finish, today I was the first. Overall I am very pleased with the experience, especially because the promised rain did not start until we were driving home (after finally finding my car, as nobody in my group could recall exactly on which street it was parked; so embarrassing).

Helvetia was a very hilly course; many elevation changes covering scenic farm land in North Plains, OR. Run Like Hell had us running through Portland's Pearl District and then up a long, gradual climb to OHSU where we were treated to beautiful city views among crisp autumn foliage. The 3+ miles downhill after the climb were cause for celebration, and I strongly believe made all the difference in the world for my experience today.

Helvetia Finish Line -- June 13, 2009

Run Like Hell -- October 25, 2009

This is the best picture I have from today's race so far--why do all photos of me running look so awkward? I don't even appear to be running! The butterfly wings on my back are kind of hard to see, but along with the knee-high pink tie-dyed socks they constituted my "costume" for this event. Lots of folks were all-out dressed up, which provided excellent distraction along the course.

I realize that posts like these may not be of interest to anybody but me. But consider that my blog is in part a form of journal for me, and hopefully it will correctly seem more documentation than self-indulgence. Thanks for reading it in any case!

Will I ever learn?

That's what I fully expected my husband say to me after reading my confession in this post. Unfortunately, I didn't even have to wait that long, because Gary discovered the evidence of my most heinous of crimes yesterday, before I had a chance to explain or apologize. Both attempts at which would be futile against the fact that I was foolishly negligent. Again.

Yesterday Gary brought an important item I had forgotten to me at work on his way to pick up Madelyn from Grandma's house. When I approached him in the parking lot, he apologized for being late and said he would have arrived sooner except that he had to clean up some nasty piles of dog vomit on the carpet downstairs. He did not immediately suspect that I knew precisely the cause of this catastrophe, but my guilty expression led swiftly to that conclusion.

You see, earlier that morning I noticed a tiny piece of cellophane wrapper on the stairs. We don't just live in a house full of garbage, so I picked it up, and recognition immediately sunk in. The piece of wrapper belonged to a the package of Clif ShotBloks I had only partially consumed on my 11-mile run Sunday morning. I conjectured then that I had left the open package in a pocket of my CamelBak on the floor of my office all day Sunday.

Only one logical reason exists for the wee bit of wrapper to be on the stairs:

Kezia. (It rhymes with 'amnesia')

She might look innocent, but it's all a ruse. This girl is a dumpster-diver through and through. She'll find a plastic baggie with crumbs at the bottom of a trash can and take it out to her dog run to mutilate until every molecule of cracker has been consumed. It's not just food, either. She has an affinity for crinkly plastic things even without edibles inside. More than a few items of mine have been ruined or scarred by this dog's teeth. Thankfully nothing irreplaceable. Yet.

I was immediately angry that she had stolen away with my energy goos, which translates into being upset with myself for leaving them on the floor or forgetting to close my door, which is usually easier for me than remembering to put all Kezia-tempting items out of reach, or guessing which items those might be any given day.

My mind then starting racing toward other frightening possibilities. Would two-thirds of a product designed to give athletes several hours'worth of energy from a variety of sugar sources harm my little pup? And what about the other two unopened packages that I now remembered were located nearby--had Kezia discovered them too?

I reluctantly went to my office to investigate, a little worried about what I might find. The Camelbak pocket was unzipped and empty. The bag in which I was fairly sure I had left the other two varieties of energy chews now contained none. There was no evidence of foul play--only the missing commodities gave her away.

I have to admit I was at that moment more upset about the waste than I was concerned about Kezia's health. I didn't think it would kill her or anything, and my 'running candy' isn't cheap at $2.00 per package. If Kezia ate all the chews that I had just purchased in preparation for next week's half marathon, I considered it 6 bucks down the pooper. Literally. And I had been really excited to try this new kind I found:

I forced myself to go out into our dog run, which is really one giant toilet, and smells like it too. If I wanted to confirm my suspicions, I knew the proof would be there. I did not notice any unusual excrement; I supposed it would be gooey and some fabulous variation of Cran-Razz or Black Cherry in hue. But I did find shreds of uneaten evidence: lots of little pieces of wrapper without a trace of electrolyte-balancing gummies to be found.

As this was not the first of similar incidents caused by my carelessness, I knew to expect disapproval from Gary. I hoped that discovering the mess and cleaning it up myself might soften his irritation. But it wasn't hard to see that all the scraps I gathered were not equivalent to 3 full package wrappers in sum. And there was nothing left on the ground.

Which meant, of course, that portions of the wrappers had very likely been consumed by my mischievous husky.

I made a full report to Gary, and together we speculated that the indigestible plastic caused the vomiting, as what he found on the carpet was not red and gooey. I apologized profusely, and accepted my deserved lecture about leaving these things within reach of dogs and kids.

For curiosity's sake, I wish I could have seen Kezia in those first hours after consuming her Energy Gel Blasts and Shot Bloks. Did all that sugar affect her behavior? Was she ill shortly afterward? And also, did she share some with her similarly naughty brother Loki, or was he merely an innocent bystander?

Flagrant false advertising

I registered for the ORRC Blue Lake 15k Championship run for a variety of reasons. Of primary importance, the distance and date of the race (last Saturday) fit perfectly with my training plan for the October 25th half marathon. I had also heard that the location of the race in the Columbia River Gorge was quite lovely, and had a few friends on board to join me. In addition, 2009 marks the 35th Anniversary for this particular race event, so the marketing materials promised abundant raffle prizes, hot food at the finish line, and to top it all off, a free pair of running gloves to all registrants.

It sounded like a party I did not want to miss, and after suffering numb fingers through my mid-winter training last January, I was pretty dang excited about getting myself some running gloves for the upcoming chilly season.

My first disappointment manifested when all three of the buddies who originally planned to run with me each pooped out during the prior week for various reasons. All valid reasons, sure, but it left me in the position of driving over an hour from home all alone to run a very long race with no one to motivate or celebrate with me. But I was still very excited about the included pair of gloves, and considered the race an important aspect of my current training regime. Plus I had already paid, and I don't just have money to burn. Thankfully my mother-in-law, who had been planning on babysitting Madelyn for the day, agreed to come along with me and play with her at the park rather than at home. So I had company for the drive, and the valuable motivation throughout the race of loving family members ready to greet me at the finish line.

Luckily, I wasn't very hungry at the finish line, because their "hot food" consisted of hot dogs out of a warming tray on cheap white buns. I would have preferred the bananas and bagels found at many basic post-race festivities. At least there were 7 varieties of cookies to choose from.

The course was not very scenic, as I had been lead to expect. The area of Blue Lake Park that we saw was nice, but the race course almost immediately exited the park and ran alongside a boring road and around the Troutdale Airport field. I didn't catch a glimpse of any lake. It was supposed to be a flat, fast course, and would have been were it not for the severe wind blowing against us. For half of the race it felt like we were running uphill or against a slowly retreating wall. I had never before experienced a headwind strong enough to slow me significantly and require such effort to persevere. That made these 9.3 miles harder than they probably otherwise would have been, and it has kind of psyched me out for the 13.1 coming up in a few weeks. I just need to allow myself to slow down and stop being so competitive.

Anyway, like usual I sat through all of the raffle drawings and my ticket number was never called.

At least I got those sweet running gloves, though, right?

Of course I didn't expect our free gloves to be New Balance or Nike. But in my (albeit limited) experience, running gloves look something like this:

Obviously a person can go running wearing whatever keeps his or her hands warm and comfortable. It's just that the only type of gloves I have ever seen classified specifically for running are made of a high-performance material, are lightweight, water-resistant, and perhaps have a reflective strip since if you're running in the cold it is also highly likely that you are running in the dark. So I expected some generic, non-branded version of the same idea. Perhaps something like the middle example, as that is a brand I've never heard of.

Instead I received these:

And by "received these" I mean "was motioned toward a mountainous pile from which to take any two one-size-fits-all, ambidextrous knit gloves made from recycled fibers." They look a lot like the gloves that came with a set of herb-gardening tools I once received.

I know what you're thinking: They were free. I don't intend to complain as much as to share my amusement at the discrepancy between my imagination and reality, especially when combined with all the other small disappointments. That's all. These gloves are soft and warm, and I'm sure they will keep my hands nice and toasty during a 42-degree run. As long as they don't slip off my relatively dainty wrists, that is. Perhaps I'd be better off just pulling out some of the knit gloves that I already own in my own size! I just don't understand what, exactly, qualifies these as "running gloves." But I'm no expert.

Nike+ iPod Sensor review

My serious running friends have fancy GPS watches. I was envious of their ability to just step out the front door and run in any direction, knowing they could track their distance and adjust the route as needed to meet a desired goal mileage. My method previously required driving a car and measuring different routes in advance with my odometer. It was time-consuming and involved a lot of trial and error to get the right route for a chosen distance to end up back at home or wherever I might park my car to run.

Then I learned about a website called mapmyrun.com, and realized that I didn't need any fancy equipment to plan my routes. On the website I can simply click my starting point, and click, click, click along the roads on a map. If my unfinished loop isn't going to end up long enough, or is getting too far from home base for my desired distance, I just hit undo a few clicks and add or remove streets as needed. This serves my purpose, and although it doesn't allow the same flexibility as GPS perhaps, it is absolutely free. I just have to spend a few extra minutes planning a route and then committing the important turns to memory before heading out. I also like the ability to email proposed maps to my running buddies, and is especially helpful when I'll be meeting somebody partway through my run because we have different distance goals for the day.

So the distance problem was satisfactorily solved for me on mapmyrun.com. But another very useful feature of the GPS tool is real-time pace tracking. The only way for me to know how fast I run is to do a little math at the very end of my workout: speed = distance / time. I feel that I have reached the point in my training that I am ready to work on increasing my speed and maintaining a more constant pace throughout my runs. In order to do that, I need to know how fast I am going at various points on my course, not just the average at the end.

A new Garmin watch wasn't going to be in the cards for me, that I knew. But a while ago I searched for used models on craigslist and eBay. I couldn't justify buying one of the ancient models when I have heard the technology has been significantly improved over the last few years, but the previously-owned newish models were still out of my budget. And so I accepted that I would do without.

Over the summer, while shopping for a new pair of running shoes at the Nike Factory Store, I noticed most of the shoeboxes were labeled with the Nike+ logo. I had heard of it, but read more information on a little brochure explaining that a Nike+ shoe can talk to your iPod wirelessly with every step, and tell you your time, distance, pace, and calories burned while you run. Bingo.

It didn't take me long to figure out that the shoes are simply Nike+ ready, meaning there is a little compartment in the shoe for the sensor, which would have to be purchased separately. The Nike Plus Sensor sells online for under $30--about a tenth of the price of a Garmin.

At such a small pricetag, the question became not whether I could afford it, but whether it would be worth it. Would it be accurate enough to be useful? For that cheap, there was definitely no GPS technology inside. I searched online for more information about how exactly the Nike+ iPod sensor works, but found very little besides where to buy it. Even the instruction manual pdf did not provide any clues to how the sensor measures distance and pace, or what amount of accuracy should be expected.

I decided to buy one and give it a try. And since I found the internet to be slightly lacking helpful information on this product, I hope that my review will be helpful to some curious shoppers out there.

What is Nike+ iPod sensor?

Essentially the Nike+ sensor is just a pedometer. It tracks your steps. But unlike the cheap little pendulum clip you can attach to the front of your pants, the Nike+ can do instantaneous calculations based on the number of steps you take over measured time intervals to determine your current pace. There is also some calculation for calories burned, and of course it times your workout as well. All of this information is displayed on your iPod screen and can even be received through instant audio feedback on your earphones.

How accurately does Nike+ measure distance?

The sensor comes ready to use out of the box and claims to be "accurate for most runners," but I would highly recommend calibrating it immediately. You simply run an accurately measured distance in the calibration mode (for example 400 meters, one lap around a standard track on the inside lane) and then the sensor (I assume) determines your average stride length.

You can also calibrate the sensor after having completed a run with a known distance, which is a nice feature. I ran with my new, uncalibrated Nike+ sensor alongside a friend with GPS, and mine was pretty far off of her distance measurement. After the run, I simply input the # of miles we had just completed, and it calibrated for future runs. Since then, my Nike+ has provided measurements that are within a tenth of a mile of my Garmin friends'. I also look at the mile-markers on mapmyrun.com before leaving home, and often my Nike+ gives me the mile count within a driveway-length of the satellite map's.

I propose that the longer the run, and the more hills involved (especially if up- and downhill lengths are disproportionate), the less accurate the distance will be. Generally, your stride will be longer going down hill and shorter going up hill, and as far as I can conclude, the Nike+ doesn't have a way to account for these differences. If you go up and down hills fairly evenly, it would probably balance out. Today I planned a 12-mile route on the map website, and when I reached the end of the route, my Nike+ sensor had measured 12.25 miles. That is the most discrepancy I have ever noticed, but my friend also reminded me that those online maps may not be 100% accurate either.

How accurately does Nike+ measure pace?

The answer to this question echoes the previous one. Since the Nike+ sensor determines your average stride length through calibration and then counts the # of steps you take over measured time intervals, its accuracy depends on your stride length remaining constant. Hills, very long runs where you might significantly shorten your stride will impact the pace measurement (as well as distance). For the casual runner, the difference is probably not enough to be concerned about. I also am not sure how long it takes for the sensor to calculate and communicate with the iPod receiver. I would like to know if the lag time is 3 seconds or 10 seconds or 1 second. Overall, for me, the pace reported is close enough. After all, I could previously only venture a guess at my speed without spending $300 on a Garmin.

How does Nike+ interact with the iPod?

Nike+ iPod is supported on all iPod nano models, iPod touch (2nd gen), and iPhone 3G S. So make sure you have one of those. I have an iPod nano 2nd generation, so that's the only model on which I can comment specifically, but the features should be more or less the same on all (and the manual covers the differences in detail).

All of your workout information is displayed on the screen, and you can still control your music throughout. You can choose a male or female voice to give you periodic updates on your distance (or turn the voice off), and press the center button at any time to hear your time, distance, pace and calories. I suppose this is nice if you don't want to have to look at the screen.

I use an arm band for my iPod, and my biggest complaint about the entire system is that it's difficult to read the screen on my arm because the information is upside-down. I would strap the iPod on in an inverted position, except that the case is open on the top, so it would just fall out. Perhaps there is an armband case that is secure on the top so I could wear it upside-down. Hm. I'll have to look into that. Also it is tedious to have to tap the touch pad every time I want an update, as I can't read the screen in motion without the backlight.

Another cool feature is the ability to choose a power song. When in need of some extra motivation, you can hold down the center button and your special song starts a-pumpin'. I haven't actually used that feature yet, but it seems fun.

The iPod interface for Nike Plus also allows you to:

• choose distance, time, or calorie goals for your workout, or just start going.
• listen to any playlist or all songs, or no music. You can receive calls on the iPhone and your workout will automatically be paused.
• review previous workout summaries
• send your workouts to nikeplus.com
• create custom workout shortcuts (this is a useful feature I need to start using!)
• link one iPod receiver to multiple sensors.

What if I don't have Nike+ shoes?

Aha! Nike wants you to think you need those, but it's a trick. I actually saw some poor schmuck selling his sensor on eBay because he realized his shoes aren't compatible with it. Yes, the Nike+ shoes have a foam pad under the foot bed which can be removed and replaced with the Nike+ sensor. Yes that keeps it all neat and tidy and out of your way. But I came across dozens of various sensor "pods" that you can buy for under ten bucks and attach to any shoe. These little pouches hold the sensor and attach to your laces it seems. So you don't need special shoes, but without them you'll need a little pod for the sensor.

How does Nike+ measure steps taken?

I actually don't know the answer to this. Maybe nobody cares, as long as it works. But I am curious. Since the sensor does not need to be under the footbed (see above), the pedometer must not measure steps through impact, so perhaps it is a pendulum effect similar to the cheap hip-clip models. Before I got my own Nike+ sensor and realized that indeed it is just a fancy pedometer, I wondered if there were TWO sensors--one for each foot--which could somehow communicate with one another. If that were the case, distance and time could be very accurate, if the two sensors could measure their distance apart and when they cross each other...I'm no engineer though, and maybe that technology is just in my imagination...thus far. It might use impact, however, without requiring the full weight of the body. Just the impact of foot strike is probably enough to mark a step taken.

Overall, I am very happy that I tried the Nike+ Plus iPod sensor. In my experience Nike+ has delivered surprisingly accurate information; undoubtedly better than no information. For under 30 dollars, it is certainly worth the investment.

This review is based solely on my own personal use of Nike+ and my related opinions. I don't work for Nike or Apple and apologize for any misrepresentations that may unknowingly exist. Hopefully this report provides additional insight to shoppers looking for more information about this product.

Burn baby, burn

I wouldn't have fathomed it possible, but after nearly a year of consistent training as a wannabe runner, I've experienced little in the way of improvement. Actually, that's not entirely true. As it turns out, I seem to have actually gotten worse. I finished my first 5k last fall in around 27 minutes, but the one I did last Thursday took over 30. Never mind that it was 90 degrees outside and I had two killer sideaches. Alright, fine, I should be proud of the fact that when I started, my major goal was to run a 5-mile race and it took me 8 weeks of training to be able to do it, whereas now, having finished a half marathon and training for another one, I can step out for a 5-miler any day of the week. But for some reason I don't seem to be able to get any faster and running in general isn't much more comfortable.

I don't want this to become a pathetic pity party, so I'll spare you my personal frustrations with consistently being the last of all my friends to cross the finish line. I won't bore you with my theories of running for weight management vs. speed and their relative caloric requirements. The fact is that most of the time, running is still really hard for me. Today I want to pose a query: what if running were actually fun? I believe I may have discovered my answer.

While searching for the next half marathon for me to work toward (I love this website), I came across an event that piqued my curiosity. The Tillamook Burn was described as a 6-mile "Adventure Run," complete with rivers, "mountain-man made" creations along the course, and lung-busting hills. To top it off, camping at the event was free, so I was sold. I just knew that my running comrades would agree that this could be a super-fun girlfriends' weekend. Unfortunately, when I posed the idea, not one of them wanted to/was able to commit. So instead I enlisted my good friend Sarah's husband, Eddie, who has been running for a few months (and is already ridiculously fast). Sarah planned to come along and enjoy the festivities, cheering us across the finish line. Then a sort of tragedy struck when Eddie injured his foot early in the week, and was in no condtition to run. He wasn't interested in going without being able to compete, but Sarah wasn't willing to give up the getaway we'd been planning. So a girls' weekend was born! Don't tell Eddie, but I think we had more fun without him.

Sarah enjoys a salmon burger and fresh Trader Joe's salad at our little camp set-up after a few hours shopping the Nike Factory Store in Lincoln City.

It's clear that these X-Dog Events are not just about running a race. The camping part is a great bonus, plus there was a group campfire/party Saturday night. Sarah and I brought ingredients and roasting sticks for s'mores, so I created social openings by offering them to the strangers around the fire. Most people thought that was pretty fun and were very appreciative. To the three guys who awkwardly refused my offer I wish to say, "Lighten up. Not every girl is trying to get in your pants. It's just a marshmallow. I am married."

As the party progressed, the "Hullagan's" hula-hoop stage opened up. Can't say that I've ever witnessed clothing-optional hula hooping. Among the interesting strip-teases was one bold gentleman who strutted his "stuff" right up there without a speck of clothing to hide his shame. I found it hilarious, as you can just imagine the effect rhythmic hip-swaying would have on a naked--ahem-man.

"Naked Brad" does the hula (I heard someone refer to him this way, and later realized it wasn't just the hula hoop--I saw him taking down his tent the next morning in the nude. Naked is his lifestyle.)

I opted FOR clothing when giving the hula hoop a shot. Cries of "I've never seen a hula hoop move that fast!" were heard. That's a mardi gras mask on my head.

Kristen and Sarah, bright and cheery before the torturous adventure

Since Eddie had to bow out, I adamantly encouraged Sarah to take his place on the run. While I know that Sarah is not a runner, I am also aware that she has been working out consistently for some time now, and figured she could certainly make it through--even if it meant walking for much of it. About three-quarters of a mile into the race--about the time I was trudging up a never-ending vertical climb--I felt intensely guilty for having been so encouraging. Meaning no disrespect to Sarah, I wondered if she might opt to turn around and sit out. After another mile or two, I was sincerely hoping that my friend had done so.

I had no way of knowing in advance the level of intensity and challenge that this course would present. I can't imagine how anybody could actually run most of it. The hills could only be described as mountain climbs, some of them requiring hand-over-hand assistance. Then going down the other side of these hills required grace and balance not to end up rolling head-over-heels on top of the runners below. We ran through creeks, under and over logs, nearly got lost in the woods, and got stung by angry hives of bees.

I finished the 5.81-mile adventure in an hour and 19 minutes. I have no complaints about that time--ridiculously slow for road-running standards--due to the nature of the course. I half-expected to see Sarah relaxing in a camp chair at the finish, having changed her mind early on. But she was nowhere to be found. Which meant that she had not given up soon enough, and was forced to push ahead, as there was no exit from the masochism once you were so far in.

Having now experienced first-hand what she was currently enduring, and knowing my friend has a tendency to twist her ankle, I began to worry. After about 45 minutes of waiting, I decided to go back in and find Sarah. I kept picturing her sitting by the side of the makeshift trail holding her ankle, wondering if anybody was going to come find her.

The further back I walked, the more worried I grew. But I also began to wonder if I was doing the right thing: perhaps Sarah had turned back early, and was just taking a nap in our tent. Or maybe I would find Sarah, but she would be trucking along just fine and be annoyed or embarrassed that I felt the need to look for her. And if either of these situations were the reality, I had no business repeating the obstacle I had just completed. Once was enough. Thankfully, the last mile or so was my favorite part, as it consisted more of interesting obstacles and flat running spots and less of the treacherously steep inclines and kamikaze bees. And I was pleased to take advantage during my rescue effort to photograph some of the terrain so that others might appreciate in some small way how awesome this was.

The end of the course had very minor hills, so this is the best one I could photograph. Imagine much steeper and climbing that way for about a half-mile at a stretch.

One of the refreshing creeks to dash through. Had to be careful of underwater rocks...one of the many challenges that had me worrying about Sarah's ankles.

We didn't just splash our feet. I'm wading knee-deep.

Two of these aqueducts were probably my favorite obstacle. Especially since I passed a girl in the middle of one. :)

Don't fall in!

I did eventually find Sarah, just as I was seriously wondering if I should go check our tent and then get help if she wasn't there. I think after walking alone through the quiet forest for so long she was startled to hear me call out to her in relief. I was also relieved to learn that she was not mad at me for coming back to find her, rather was incredibly grateful to hear that she was almost out. I let Sarah lead the way back and chatted with her to (hopefully) help distract her from the inevitable discomfort.

Sarah wades into the finisher's chute to get ice, bee sting cream, and a free T-shirt for taking last place

I met this calm and friendly man named Andrew at the campfire, and somehow we ended up in close proximity partway through the race. I told Andrew to pass me if he wanted, since I couldn't possibly go any faster, but he said I was setting a good pace for him to follow (or maybe he enjoyed the view--ha ha). So we ran together for a couple of miles, and I have to say it was a welcome pleasure to have somebody to visit and laugh with between gasps for breath. He also went back in with me to find his slower friend, but they reunited sooner than I did with Sarah. I honestly find it sweet and not creepy that Andrew contacted me through my company's website (since I'd told him what I do) to ask how things turned out with Sarah. And just because he is such a genuinely nice person--and also married--the fact that he looked me up on Facebook and discovered that we have the same birthday (August 22, which is coming right up, hint hint!) is also not creepy. It's fun to have a stalker! Makes me feel young and pretty again.

Showing off my battle wounds: bee stings on my butt and arm

Sarah and I officially survived the Tillamook Burn. It was physically and mentally challenging, but the adventurous aspect and element of surprise made it so exciting! This overshadowed my intense bodily pain, and for me, made it more fun than incessantly pounding the pavement in a straight line. I've already looked up their next events and plan to participate again.