Toe-Shoes Tina and Slo Jo Run for Hot Chocolate

Slo Jo:

Distance: 15K

Pace: 10:40

Perceived temperature: -15C

Actual temperature: 53F

The whole thing began because our friend CC wanted to run the Hot Chocolate race. Only she didn’t phrase it that way. “They give out hot chocolate at the end,” she explained. “I want hot chocolate.”

Coach, who has adopted CC as his next trainee, pressed her on this point. “Come on,” he said. “It can’t be just that. You must want to get in shape or—”

“I just want hot chocolate,” she insisted.

Despite our informing CC that hot chocolate was available from various restaurants and grocery stores that wouldn’t make you pay a registration fee and run a few miles, she stood firm. So Flash, Toe-Shoes Tina, Pixie, and I signed up.  We had a Gang of Five, ready for Hot Chocolate.

I was worried about the race. I had blown up on the planned 17-mile run on Friday with Flash. We had even taken time off work to go run the 17 miles, which takes a million years, and at Mile 10.5, I couldn’t go on due to my old friend Knee Pain. I had to do a walk of shame (of sorts) back to the car while Flash zipped off and did another 2.5. I was really discouraged. How was I ever going to run the marathon? What if my knee blew up then? So I rolled my IT bands mercilessly on Friday and Saturday and hoped I wouldn’t have to stop during the 15K.

Flash, Pixie, CC, and I drove together to the event, and it was very well organized. Tons of volunteers were there, and the race had plenty of portapotties—important for those last minute, nervous pee breaks. The expo the day before had been pretty good as well, and all of us got black hoodies as part of our registration fee.

CC jumped out of the car while we were in line to park so that she could stow her gear and queue up for the 5K, which started at 7:30. It was her first 5K, and we were excited for her. Once we parked and steeled ourselves to leave the warm car, we gathered at the start line with our cameras hoping to get a picture of her starting her race. 

(The start line. This was taken after the sun finally came out, to our relief.)

We never did find her. It was basically a sea of black Hot Chocolate hoodies. Everyone was freezing to death. Except Toe Shoes Tina, who showed up in a neon tank top and no jacket. The woman is TUFF.

More friends showed up—P and T from Canada. They were freezing, too. I’m telling you, if the Canadians are cold….

(It was pretty, if cold. Note the absence of people wearing only tank tops.)

Our race was at 8:15, so after failing to spot CC, Pixie and I made our way to the third corral. They started the first corral at 8:15 (where Toe-Shoes Tina was ready)—then TEN MINUTES LATER, the second corral (with Flash, P, and T). So we had to stand in the cold until 8:35. We were freezing and tired of standing. Why, why, why would ten minutes be necessary between corrals? We’re SLOWER than the first two corrals. We’re not going to catch up.

Finally, the horn blew, and we got to run. Our race plan was to go slow for a mile or two, speed up, then at the halfway point, speed up more if possible. So for the first mile, people were passing us constantly. Some were passing sort of aggressively like our very existence bothered them. I thought to myself, “Hey, pass me if you want. I’ll pass you when you start walking because you went out too fast. See you at Mile 2. If you make it that far.”

The race itself went pretty well. We ended up averaging a 10:40 pace after speeding up. Parts of it were out-and-back with a U-turn, so Pixie and I ended up seeing our friends along the route. I noticed I appear to have an extremely high center of gravity, causing any runner in front of me to veer into my path so I have to run around them. The runner will be running a perfectly straight line until I approach and then voooooop! They suddenly angle into my path. I’m like the sun in the asteroid belt. Plus, as I had predicted, Pixie and I started passing people on the second half of the race. We were the little engines that could. Could keep running, that is. Boom!

We finished the race at 1:39:30, and went to pick up our finisher’s mugs, which consisted of hot chocolate, chocolate fondue, a banana, and various sweet stuff like Rice Krispy treats. Pixie and Flash wanted to take their fondue home in my car; I was a little dubious about this program. I could just picture fondue all over the seats and carpet and sticky fingerprints on the windows. But, apparently I was confusing them with little kids, because that didn’t happen at all. They managed their fondue carefully, under my baleful eye, and the Great Post Hot Chocolate Race Incident of 2013 was avoided. And most importantly, my knees held up. We’ll see what happens next weekend during my 18-miler, but for now, I continue to have some hope.

Toe-Shoes Tina:

Distance:  15K (9.3 miles)

Pace:  8:36

# of times wearing heels this week:  0  L

Over Thanksgiving, I ran 28.5 miles in the mountains.  I ran an 8 mile tempo run (the subject of my last post), 3.5 miles of speed work (7 x 800 m), and 17 mile long run (over which I climbed 1,000 feet of hills).  It was unwise for me to attempt a 10 mile tempo run on Monday morning, but that didn’t stop me.  What stopped me was stabbing Achilles pain 3 miles in.  I called Husband #1 to come pick me up at 6:00 am. Then I ran/limped another half mile while I waited for him.  I realized when I got home that I had dropped my credit card when I took out my phone to use it.  Monday was crappy.  It got crappier when I Googled “Achilles pain after run” and the only option Dr. Google gave me was Achilles tendonitis and 6 weeks of rest.  Surely there is something in between completely healthy and needing 6 weeks of rest.  I asked Pinch Your Butt when I went to take a boxing class later Monday morning (don’t worry, I modified . . . mostly).  He told me to ice it, roll it, stretch it, and don’t wear heels all week.  I’m sorry, what?????  No heels all week?   Easy to say when you aren’t a very stocky 5 foot 4.  He also reminded me that pineapple, cherries, and fish oil are natural anti-inflammatories and I should incorporate them into my diet.  Well, I took his advice (looking frumpy all the while) and didn’t even run until Saturday.  I boxed, of course, but skipped the running.  By Saturday I was able to do a half mile boot camp warm up with no problem.  Then I was able to strap a weight sled to my back and run a quarter mile.  Upon reflection, I should have skipped that drill. 

(I was planning to put a funny photo here, but am posting this after an 18 mile run and feeling lazy.  So please just imagine a funny photo.)

Anyway, I was super excited to feel better on Sunday.  Slo Jo and I had signed up for a Hot Chocolate 15K.  They give you hot chocolate and chocolate fondue for finishing.  And the “race tee” is an awesome hoodie.  Also, before my Achilles injury, I had envisioned this as a test race.  I’ve always wanted to break 2 hours for a half marathon. This requires a 9 minute pace or better (preferably better to allow me a pee break).  My training runs up to this point have made me doubt my ability to run that fast for long runs.  I thought 9.3 miles would be a good distance to test my ability to sustain 9 minute miles in my upcoming half.  I formulated a plan, I’d run 9:00 to 9:05 for the first 5 miles, then pick up the pace if I still felt good to 8:45 or 8:30.  I sort of stuck to my plan.

When I registered for the race, I had estimated my pace at 9:30, which put me in the second corral (Slo Jo generously thinks I'm much faster than I am).  Flash and I started in the same corral.  She’d actually been assigned the first corral, but didn’t want to start alone and, frankly, the people in corral 1 were kind of intimidating with their intense runners’ looks and neon compression sleeves on every limb.  Corral 2 was much more friendly.  We all chatted for a bit and then it was time to run.  It was a balmy 52 degrees, so I was anxious to warm up (yes, I showed up to the race in a tank top and yes, it was cold, but I knew I'd get hot running at 52 degrees, so there you go).  I started near the front of the pack, reasoning I should be faster than the others in corral 2, who should be legitimate 9:30 runners.  Not so.  Even though I felt like I was pacing relatively well, I ran my first mile in 8:10.  Surprise!  TST started too fast.  I had to slow down and others began to pass me.  It is hard to let people pass me, particularly when they don’t exactly look like super-runners (I don’t mean that in a bad way, because neither do I).  By mile 2 I was much closer to my goal and through mile 5 I hovered at around (okay, a little below) 8:45.  My Achilles started to bark 2.5 miles in, but not in the stabby way that made me quit my tempo run on Monday.  It was more of a dull ache that pinched when I pushed too hard.  To pacify my Achilles, I changed up my stride a bit.  I alternated between my normal mid-foot stride and more of a heel strike (though not a clompy heel strike like I used to run).  This helped a lot and I was able to push through.  Fortunately I was wearing real shoes and not my Vibrams, which really tolerate no heel strike at all. 

(Again, use your imagination for a humorous picture here.  And laugh.  Now read on.)

At mile 5, I picked up the pace a little.  At mile 6, I started what felt like the longest out-and-back ever (it was over 2 miles, round trip) and ran even faster.  My 10K split was 53:31, which I believe is a PR, for an official race anyway.  I was amazed to finally be passing people who looked a hell of a lot more like runners than I do.  Mile 7 ticked away, then 8.  Coming up the out-and-back, I saw Slo Jo and our friend Pixie who was running with her.  I gave an air high five and cheered.  When I saw the 9 mile marker, I knew I was within range of the finish and seriously dug in.  My Achilles did not appreciate it, but I had less than a half mile left, so I told my Achilles to suck it.  When I came around the bend and saw the finish, I broke into a sprint and was baffled that the little Elven blonde (who did not jiggle at all despite head to toe spandex) I’d been trading places with all race did not join me.  She simply maintained her (admittedly fast) pace and I kicked her butt!  Who doesn’t sprint the finish????  My time was 1:20:05, way faster than I need to break 2 hours on the half, and my Achilles did slow me down a bit.  So if I can arrive to the half (on January 19) healthy, I think I can totally crush 2 hours.  For the moment, however, I am icing, rolling, and wearing flats.  Boo.  I may forego heels until the marathon.