Fartlekking St Patricks wknd

This weekend was pretty hectic… I was rarely by a computer, and trying to limit my iPhone usage in front of company (thanks SarahsDoodles for making feeling guilty about that one 🙂 )…

I moved my gay bestie on Saturday. I love his family and his boyfriend, and we get along great, so no worries or unnecessary drama. In fact, we have kind of gotten into a routine of it. He has moved 6 times in the past 3 years- we calculated, and I’ve been around for all of them. So because this was planned out, I knew I wouldn’t want to get in extra miles after our training program’s 10-miler Saturday morning

So, I wanted to get in some miles Friday. Ideally, I wanted to do a short warm-up, then a close-to-5K speed for 3 miles, then just mess around with mileage until my legs felt shaken out. I had been thinking somewhere in the 5 to 7 mile range. The weather was beautiful- in the 60’s and sunny, so I was ready for whatever.

Well, as I’ve mentioned before- I’m recovering from a cold that has a cough that seems harder to kick than using my iphone so much. Every night last week, I got a cramp on my run (probably due to change in breathing). This run was no different.

Fri (3/15): Oops! I fartlekked!

I started out easy, and everything felt good. Then, when I started the 5K-pace, it felt like I turned into a wind turbine, creating extra (unnecessary) resistance. I managed a 8:12, but it felt so hard. I got through another 0.85 miles before “giving up” (on a fast speed… though I did almost stop completely), which I later saw was a 8:06 pace, so would have still been good. I dropped down to an easy jog for 0.5 miles, then tried again for a fast speed. I felt like I was hitting my stride, but after 0.5 miles, I started coughing so bad I thought something ugly might come up. So I dropped back down to an easy pace, and knew I’d stay there for the rest of the run. So, I got in one last 100-meter sprint (all out), then dropped down to an easy pace to settle into. When I got back into my apartment complex, I decided I had another mile in me. When I got on the treadmill, I decided I could be ambitious. I pushed my speed a little and got a 7:03-minute mile. Woo! Which means my “average” pace was a 8:45, not bad… Esp for 5 miles. Definitely a little harder than I had originally planned.

[Fartlekking= intervals by which you play with the intervals. Rather than use a specific time or distance (say, 0.5 fast, .25 easy), you run for whatever distance you want at whatever speed you want]

Sat (3/16):

So, Saturday morning, I had my half-marathon training group. We only had one lonely participant in the 10-11 group, and she had just dropped down to the 10-11 pace group, so I figured we’d go extra slow. It was 10 miles, so that’s not the time for a half-marathoner to push your pace. Well, I really liked her. The conversation was enjoyable. And she pushed a good amount up some of the hills, and took it easy when she needed to. Our first two miles were too fast- 9:11, 9:24… But, I kept asking if she felt okay. And she did, so we kept going in the 930’s, which was a speedier pace than I had thought we would go, but is a comfortable pace for a long-ish run for me. We completed 9.91 miles in 1:35 minutes, which isn’t too shabby at all.

*** Flash forward to moving my gay bestie. And he moved into a two-story house, so I probably did the equivalent of 30 stair climbs, and I burned a good bit of calories this weekend… Clearly, I earned St Pats this year

Sun (3/17)

I woke up bright and early- 645am to be exact. Stupid getting old! I stayed in bed (in the second bedroom) until 7am. Until I was finally like This is stupid! Just accept that you are old, and get up more regularly than these younger guys… And got up to pee.

Went to turn the doorknob. Ruh-oh! It wouldn’t open. I did that stupid thing everyone does in similar scenarios though- continue to jiggle it in hopes that I had just forgotten how to open a door. Still no luck.

So, I laid back down, and tried to convince my bladder to go back to sleep. Then, texted my bestie- “her-row? (the sound my cat makes at 2am looking for someone to snuggle with- or scaring the ghosts or something, either way it’s a creepy hello and we always do it) I am locked in the room”

He woke up 45 minutes later, and let me out. We waited for the cable guy, who came 3 minutes after his time window, and took 45 minutes to install. This is all pre-coffee. Which can be a scary state for those around me.

FINALLY! At 11am, I had coffee! Woo! St Patricks Day could officially start now!

I went home, met up with Dan and some other various friends- a few who had recently finished their first marathon- CONGRATS to them! And drank some good beer. And perhaps got a little too excited about stouts. Oh, and Dan lost his credit card in his kilt/ on his kitchen floor (apparently the cats decided to mess with it in the 5 minutes we were gone, and played with it until it was hidden under something). So, I was buying.

Fun times! Happy St Pats! Oh, and random, Johnny Knoxville has been in Raleigh for the past few weeks, and everyone is amazed! I’m more amazed that he must think Raleigh Times is the only place in Raleigh to get a beer (all the sightings have been there. Maybe he just moved here. After all, everyone else is moving here, per all the reports)

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Kilts make you faster

It’s a fact.

If you don’t believe me, buy a kilt.

Then, run in it

…Okay, fine. Maybe they don’t make everyone faster. But they are sexy right?! (I’m Irish, so the answer is YES!)]

after the race

Saturday marked a big day for Raleigh. It was a big anticippointment (I coined that word in college- when a day has a HUGE build-up, but just falls so epically short). Saturday was the St Paddy’s Run Green 8K in Raleigh, plus a “World Record Breaking Kilt Run”.

Okay, before I start describing kilt run- know this- I had a lot of fun, and it was a great race, and supports a great charity- National MS Society…

So, we were told to be there at 1245pm so we could sign an “affidavit” saying we would wear a kilt. We had a lawyer in our group, and he laughed, and declared “This is a liability waiver!” According to facebook, 1700 runners had registered for the kilt run. The kilt run was a separate event from the 8K (which was 200 m in length, in attempts to get a lot more people interested in running it). The previous record was 2012 with 1764 or something.

Well, we got there at 1pm- me, Dan, Brucy, and the Lawyer. By 1:10, Brucy officially had registered. And we met up with some people we knew, said hey. By 1:20, we had completed the proper paperwork, and were cold, and kinda annoyed by the crowd, and a little hungry. So, we walked back to Brucy’s (around the corner from Moore Square). We came back around 1:50, just in time to get “counted” for the kilt run, and lined up.

Okay, the 200m kilt run was supposed to go around Moore Square. We lined up across the middle of the square. A bag pipe band was going to “lead” us… Which we all thought to ourselves obnoxiously pointed out “Wait… Are they gonna run while playing the bag pipes?!”

So 2 came, and all 1556 of us began our run (note that is shy of the record, but we had no clue at the time). Our “run” stopped about a meter after it started because (1) it was so crowded and (2) the bag pipe players were NOT in fact running. Funny note- I saw a few people actually almost trample the bag pipe players in trying to “run” the kilt run. So, instead we are walked a casual 17:00 pace for the 200m stretch around half of the square. I am not kidding- it took 5:30 to finish the walk, and we were in the middle of the pack.

Though it was a good reason for everyone to hang out and grab a beer, and wear a kilt.

So, by 2:10, the four of us were bored again. And with the option of getting drunk lingering across the street at Tir Na Nog, we decided to head back to Brucy’s again, and hang out there to keep warm. At 2:45, we headed back to Moore Square, and “lined up”

We just lined up in front of Tir Na Nog (which apparently was in the “walk” pace). I was so excited about having my gps for this race… My first time. And it had satellites and everything… Until 2:58. So no GPS. The race started at 3:00, and we crossed the start line at 3:02ish. And then Dan, Brucy, the Lawyer and I kept trying to get past all the people who were winded from running across the start line and decided to walk at 0.25 miles in… I kept dicing through the crowd, with the boys following me.

Did I mention I ran 9 miles, which included hill sprints on Friday night? Oh… well I did. So, I was just going for an “easy” pace. But kept looking over and seeing Dan and Bruce and the Lawyer… Which told me I was probably going too fast (they run easy 8:00s). Oh well.

After a couple miles in, I think we had lost most of the walkers. And Brucy and Dan had left the Lawyer and I in the dust.

It was a hilly course. And I remembered that from the previous time I ran this course, but I forgot until I was running it again HOW HILLY it was. Thankfully, I did remember that it really is only flat the first and last 0.25 miles, so I didn’t believe the people who were saying “the hills are behind you” at 3 miles in. The Lawyer did. Poor guy. He also doesn’t run that often, but held strong with me. And I had no idea what pace we were running. I just kept pushing it, hoping I’d make it in under 44 minutes…

Around 3.5 miles in, we caught up with this stupid blonde cheerleader who just kept yelling. No, seriously. The girl was like late 30s, but dressed in an annoying Notre Dame cheerleader costume, with blonde pig tails, and screamed in a high pitched voice “Woo! Let’s go Iris!” every ~30 seconds or so. I was like “who is Iris?! and why is this person soooo important!” She had a running buddy who was pushing her pace as hard as possible, in an identical costume, but her name was “Beth” or something… Stupid blonde cheerleader would ask “Beth” “Do you want to push the pace this last mile? Woo! Go Iris!” to which “Beth” would roll her eyes, and moan. And Stupid Cheerleader would yell something again, and then ask “what?!” to “Beth”. “Beth” looked miserable.

And I was recruiting people to chase down Stupid Cheerleader and kick her, or shut her up. No, seriously. I was asking everyone around me to please catch up to her, and tell her to shut up.

Well, I guess we eventually ran past some neighbor’s house who went to Notre Dame, and they yelled (upon seeing her costume) “Go Fighting Irish!” I suddenly understood who “Iris” was… The Stupid Cheerleader apparently also had a lisp. So, the Lawyer and I kept pushing our pace to get rid of this girl. And she just kept effortlessly catching up. We’d dust her. I’d overhear her saying something like “I’m gonna run back and check on ____” to “Beth”, and then she f***ing appear again out of nowhere. And everyone in our crowd would suddenly start moving faster to get away from her, and get quiet, and hold our breathe (and tongue probably too; except me. I was ready to give away my beer $$ if someone would have tripped her. THAT is some serious stuff!)

In the last half mile, she asked “Beth” again if she wanted to kick up the pace for the finish? Or do you want to turn back for ____? Or… And Beth cut her off, gasping for breathe saying “I just …. want…. to finish…”  That-a-girl. Beth!

And I guess Stupid Cheerleader understood, and left us once and for all, just as the course leveled out and we could see the finish line.

And I saw “44:00”, and thought Holy Crap! I might PR!” And gave it a final kick to catch the Lawyer (he’s 6’3, so I’m okay with his kick being faster than mine). And got this killer shot, that a friend tagged me in (upon seeing this in her random friends’ photos)

Image

my final kick… So serious!

We found some friends, chatted a bit, got our free beer; then went around the corner to Raleigh Times for dinner and beers. And the Lawyer updated us on our results- Dan 38:48, Bruce 39:08, the Lawyer 41:58, me 42:02.

So, PR’d by 30 seconds. Which is fun. But yeah, the kilts. So much fun to run in!