Half Marathon #4: Go! St. Louis

What up, peeps?

I know you've missed me. Don't worry, I'm still here. And I even finished another race this past weekend: the Go! St. Louis half marathon. I should warn you now, this post will be long, so feel free to stop reading after the race.

I was so excited to head to St. Louis for the weekend. I went to college at Mizzou and now many of my friends live and work in STL. This trip allowed me to run another race and visit a bunch of friends AT THE SAME TIME!

Now onto the race! One of the coolest things about this race was that five years ago to the day I ran my very first full marathon. My very first marathon also happened to be the Go! St. Louis marathon.

In my coral at the starting line, the sun is starting to come up behind the arch. 

After half marathon #3, I wanted to make sure I arrived bright and early. I arrived an hour early. Because I had run this race before, I also had an idea of what the course was like. I remembered lots of hills. Unfortunately, the memory of those hills softened after five years. Silly, naive, little Kristen, you thought running the bayou would be sufficient training. How wrong you were. And I told myself, "Kristen, don't fret, for every uphill, there is a downhill!" Here's the thing about hills: running uphill puts a strain on the hamstrings and calves, while running downhill puts a strain on quads and joints. I could not get a break. I almost preferred the uphill to the downhill because at least that relieved the pounding on my joints.

My goal for this race was originally an hour and 55 minutes. By the time I reached the first water station, I knew I wasn't going to make it. The STL course is tough. As soon as I passed the water station, all I could think about was how long it would be until I reached the next one. I even took two cups of water at every station. I was so thirsty. I was starting to regret those bottles of wine I split with Taylor and Charles on Saturday (yes, that is correct, I said "bottles").  I adjusted my goals pretty early in the race. I would have been happy to finish in under 2:20. Fortunately, I somehow managed to run my second fastest time. My chip time ended up reading 2:06:05. And those sadists in St. Louis actually made the last .3 miles of the race all uphill.

Post race, holding my finisher's medal from my 4th half marathon this year.

The race was challenging, but I never hit that wall where I felt like I couldn't do it. Every race I had run previously, I encountered one mile that was just physically and mentally tougher than the rest. They all were equally brutal for this race. Thankfully, John was at the finish line ready to greet me and I immediately forgot about how much I hated that race when I was overcome with joy. My first non-family supporter! I enjoyed my now traditional post-race beer while John and I watched the very first of the marathon finishers. I still can't believe marathon winners finish 26.2 miles only about 20-30 minutes after I finished 13.1.

John and I then went back to Sean and Charles' place where I proceeded to wake everyone up and be as obnoxious as possible. Naturally, I encouraged all of them to mix a few drinks and join me for Sunday Funday. Being the supportive friends they are, they obliged. Then they let me do "man things" with them like watch sports and blow things up (we didn't blow anything up). The boys (Sean, John, and Charles) then accompanied me to partake in my favorite post-race/Sunday ritual: eating oysters. Sean and I ended up eating three dozen between the two of us. Three. Dozen. Oysters. And I loved every single one of them. I probably could have eaten more but I decided after 18 it was time to start exercising some self restraint.

I had such a great weekend visiting my friends. It's great to know that even though time continues to pass, we still manage to stay close and keep in touch. Forgive me as I cheese it up a bit, but the rest of this post is for those friends.


When I was little and aspired to be a famous actress, I would practice my Academy Award acceptance speech. Now I am in my mid-twenties and no closer to giving that speech, so I am going to offer a cheesy and special thanks to a few select people on here (feel free to skip down if you're not interested in this part):

First, I want to thank my friends, Sean and Charles, for opening up their home and allowing me to stay with them for most of the weekend. If it weren't for the two of you, I would be staying at someone's parents' house. Sean also drove me to the airport Monday morning. Because he's awesome. I would also like to thank Taylor for letting my stay with her the night before the race. God knows those boys would have done everything in their power to get me good and drunk. She also woke up with me at 5:45am on a Sunday morning to drive me to the starting line. If you're in your mid-twenties, you know we don't typically wake up that early on Sunday mornings. In fact, sometimes we even finish Saturday night around that time. So that was pretty cool for Taylor to do. I was just going to wing it, maybe jog to the race as my warm up (I probably would have just called a cab). I want to thank Desi for taking me to a lovely dinner on Friday night. He always picks a place right up my alley (i.e. wine bar) and I feel like I never get to spend enough time with him whenever I visit.

Finally, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, I want to thank John. First, John picked me up from the airport when I arrived Friday night. John was also the very first non-family member to actually show up for my race. Let me tell you why his presence was such a big deal: John has been promising me for months that he would be at the finish line with beer for me. He has been promising me for MONTHS (maybe a month and a half)! John also spent Saturday afternoon at the opening day Cardinals v. Cubs game. Additionally, John went to the STL Blues play-off game Saturday night. I don't know if you've ever met any Cards/Blues fans but I'll tell you a little bit about them: they drink like sailors. If they lose, they drink away their sorrows and if they win, they drink to celebrate, and they celebrate all night long. Now let me tell you about my friends: they drink twice as much as your average fan. The Cards and Blues both won. I seem to have that affect on STL sports teams. Every time I come around my awesomeness affects the whole city. But I digress. Considering the events of Saturday, I was convinced that there was no way John would be at the finish line waiting for me. Sunday morning, 9am, John was at the finish line. I was so incredibly happy. I don't think he realizes how much it meant to me. And he even brought me a beer.

Kraftig beer, courtesy of Johnny dearest. 

Half Marathon #3: The Armadillo Dash

Family, friends, countrymen:

Please, do not be alarmed by back to back posts. I warned you that this was coming (if you read my last post, you would know).

So I want to touch on a few things that I didn't mention in my previous post. The first and most import, I got new shoes! Better yet, I got two pairs of new shoes. And compression socks. So many things! I might love one pair of my shoes more than the other, though. My Newton Lady Isaac shoes may be the best things that have ever happened to me. My Nike Free Run shoes are the first pair of Nike's I've owned in over ten years. I am pleased with both, but the Newton shoes are lovely.

Wow. That was boring. Onto the race!

The Armadillo Dash takes place in College Station, TX. I managed to convince my dad that he had to run it with me, too. Yay, moral support! This year was the Armadillo Dash's 6th year in existence. Naturally, you would think they would have all the little kinks figured out by now. This race was hands down the most disorganized disappointment of an event in which I have ever had the misfortune of participating. Ok, maybe not ever, but you get my point. My dad and I stayed at my aunt and uncle's house in College Station the night before the race. We woke up and left with plenty of time to get to the starting line. My dad estimated that we would arrive about 30 minutes early. He estimated wrong. Traffic was so congested that we sat in it for over an hour. The race started at 7am. We didn't even get to the starting line until 7:35am. Yes, you read that correctly. We were 35 minutes late to the start of our race. Fortunately, I had my GPS and that nifty little electronic time chip most races have you attach to your shoe; therefore, I was able to at least keep track of my time and pace.

Half the fun in participating in these monthly half marathons is the opportunity to run a race. No one would care if I ran 13.1 miles on my own one Saturday morning. I wouldn't care. Races are so official. Somehow, they matter, even if only to the people running them. I ran cross country and track in high school. Something about being at the start line with all the other runners gets your adrenaline going. You all experience this sense of anticipation as you wait to hear the gun signal the race start. That energy is exciting. That energy makes these races fun. I missed out on that experience last weekend, and that was disappointing.

However, I would like to mention that I knocked ten minutes off my time in only two weeks. Yes, that is correct, I dashed the Armadillo Dash in 1:59:01. So I actually knocked almost eleven minutes off my previous time. Go me. No tightness, no painful final mile, no disappointing finish. I felt great. After the Rhythm & Blues race, I couldn't even think about the Armadillo Dash. After the Armadillo Dash, I felt fresh and energized. Ok, not really. I was pushing so hard through those last few miles that I skipped the water stations...which would have been fine, except those super smart race coordinators ran out of water at the finish line. I repeat, they RAN OUT OF WATER AT THE FINISH LINE. This race wasn't some silly 5K (no offense meant to 5K runners), this was 13.1 miles. People are going to be THIRSTY when they finish. I was wandering around like a mad person at the finish line. I was pushing people and bumping into them. I wasn't walking straight. All I could think about was my quest for water. I almost thought about running back to the last water station on the race course. (I didn't really consider doing that). I couldn't focus on anything else. My dad (who still managed to finish before me) and I immediately hopped in our car and drove to the nearest gas station. I then proceeded to enjoy the best tasting water ever to have touched my lips. What a delightfully refreshing experience that was.

This race was a unique experience. I doubt I will ever run the Armadillo Dash again, but I am pretty pleased with my time. For half marathon #4, I shall return to St. Louis. The race takes place April 15. I have six weeks to prepare. The St. Louis marathon was the first marathon I ever ran. I remember the course being pretty tough with plenty of gradual hills. I am mentally and physically preparing myself for those hills. I also get to visit all my old college friends who have made wonderful promises of beer coolers at the finish line. Needless to say, I'm excited for many reasons.

Get ready, St. Louis, y'all remember what happens when I come to town. 

Half Marathon #2: Rhythm & Blues

Salutations, friends!

My pops before the race.

This post is about three weeks late, but you know what they say: better late than never! Life has been so busy lately that I can't seem to find a spare moment to even update my blog. But never fear, my slacker tendencies haven't extended to my running. It's been quite the opposite, actually. Those of you who know me understand how much I hate waking up early. Consider a testament to my commitment that I have been waking up at 6am to squeeze my runs in pretty regularly. Now onto the reason you actually read my blog (maybe)...

The Rhythm & Blues half marathon took place on February 19 in downtown Houston. I have to admit, I was a little excited to be running in my home town. I had these fantasies that all of my friends were going to wake up, make signs, and cheer me on as I ran those 13 miles. But alas! I then remembered all of my friends are in their twenties and probably went to bed only a few hours before I woke up. Oh well, that's why we have parents. 

This race had its ups and downs. Literally. I never realized how many "hills" Allen Parkway had. (Houston joke!) Back on track: the best part about this race was that my dad ran it with me. Running is our thing and it was really nice to have him standing next to me at the starting line. I twisted my ankle (i.e. had a rough fall) running at Memorial Park the weekend before the race so my main goal was not to hurt myself any more. I started the race a little faster than I intended. I was feeling pretty good though so I decided just to roll with it. The race consisted of a 4ish mile loop along Allen Parkway. Three loops around allowed runners to become familiar with the course without making the course too monotonous. Once I hit the halfway point, I started to slow down. My ankle wasn't really giving me trouble but my knees were a little sore from the pavement pounding. The race became increasingly difficult. That last mile was brutal. My hips tightened up and all I could think about was how much I didn't want to be running. I felt like I was crawling past the finish line. The experience reminded me of a cross country race my freshman year of high school. Haley, Adrienne, and I were the very last three people to finish the Rice University race. The memory makes me laugh. After finishing that high school race at Rice, all I could think about was how I never wanted to run again. The feeling I experienced at the end of the Rhythm & Blues race was similar. I hurt so bad in so many places. Fortunately, beer was available at the finish line. My mother, who had been moving along the course cheering for me all morning, was waiting to congratulate me. Despite feeling absolutely miserable, I ran the race in 2:09:54, thus knocking a solid 2 1/2 minutes off my previous time. Success! 

Pops and me post-race with our finisher's medals

My father, a seasoned marathoner, clocks a 1:57 half marathon these days. I haven't told him yet, but halfway through the year he is going to be pushing himself to keep up with me. 

I even have pictures from this race! Don't get too excited though...I haven't uploaded them onto my computer yet. But once I load those puppies, you can feel like you were right there running beside me. Half marathon #3 has already come and gone, as well, so I will be posting my reflections on that race before the end of the weekend. And I really will, do not let my past failures lead you to doubt me. The story of number 3 is better told sooner than later!

Ciao bellas. 

My momma hangin' out with me as I sip my post-race beer.

Team Fox

It's official: I am now a registered athlete with Team Fox. Better yet, Project 13.1 is a registered event. Please visit my personal page if you're interested in donating money. My goal is to raise at least $5,000 for Parkinson's Disease research by the end of the year. It will be absolutely fantastic if I can surpass that goal.

Why Parkinson's Disease, you might ask?
This past year I have had the opportunity to become acquainted with one of the most interesting and generous men I've had the pleasure of meeting, Brian. At the end of last year, I learned that he is also a dedicated marathon runner who has run the 26.2 mile race on every continent in the world. He also happens to be battling Parkinson's Disease and is an active member of Team Fox.

I have always considered myself a runner. When I was 10 year old, I had to run the mile for my first time. It was some elementary school fitness test. I was the fastest girl in my grade. I remember my dad (who was already a marathon runner) being so excited for me. He encouraged me to join the track team the next year. I ran track all through junior high. I ran three years of varsity track in high school, and four years of varsity cross country. I ran my first marathon when I was 19; and my second when I was 21. And then the summer I turned 22, I had knee surgery. Since my surgery almost three and a half years ago (yikes!), it's been difficult for me to fully dedicate myself to running again. There always seems to be a reason not to jump back in, whether it's the lack of time or some new injury (gravity and I have had several altercations over the years). Brian inspired me to start running again. Now that I'm back, I am starting to remember why I love to run. It seems only appropriate that I run for a cause that is important to him.

My next race is this Sunday in Houston, TX. The start time is 7:30am at Sam Houston Park. The course is a loop that goes down Allen Parkway. Half marathoners will run the loop three times. I'd love it if anyone could come downtown and show me some support. I invite anyone interested to attend the post race party with me afterwards and then go out for brunch. If you can't come watch, that's ok: just be sure to make a donation to Team Fox :).

Thanks for your support. 

The Texas Half

Something about the Dallas skyline makes me giddy. Every time I drive up I-45, I get excited as the lights come into view. I have such fond memories of taking weekend road trips this past spring and summer with my good friends.

My trip to Dallas was short and sweet. Once I was settled, I met up with my friend, Nick, to catch up and have a beer. I was so pumped up for the race as I drove into town that it was nice to relax and have some company. Although it would have been nice to spend more time enjoying the city, I turned in at about 11:30 to rest up for the big event.

I arrived at White Rock Lake at 7am to pick up my bib number and racing chip. I tend to be a bit of a baby when it comes to temperatures below 65 degrees, but Saturday morning was COLD. Thankfully, I had a Mizzou sweatshirt in my trunk.

The race started at 8am. I decided to start slow and make sure my muscles had ample opportunity to get warm. Now I have a confession to make: I have not run 13 miles since 2008. My longest run in my "training" for this event was only 8 miles. 8-ish. Needless to say, I didn't want to over exert myself and end up with an injury. I didn't have a very specific goal for my race time. I was hoping to finish in about two hours and twenty-three minutes, averaging and 11-minute mile. Right after I crossed the 6-mile marker, my mother sent me a text message. When the message flashed on my phone, I saw the time for the first time since I started running: it was 9 o'clock. At this point I realized I was on pace for a two hour and ten minute race. And I felt amazing. I picked up the pace for a few miles. However, I hit a wall at mile 12. The final stretch of the race was also the steepest part. Finishing was tough but I managed to end with an official time of 2 hours, 12 minutes, and 25 seconds. I was super excited about the time. Although it is relatively slow, I think it serves as good benchmark. It's not embarrassing, but there is plenty of room for improvement.

When I finished the race, I was so parched and all I could think about was finding something to drink. Interestingly enough, the first beverage I encountered was beer. And that's the first thing I drank after my race. It was delurcious. I have no idea of what kind of beer it was, but I was able to chug sip my tasty drink while I searched for the elusive water bottles. (I found them.)

A few things made this race particularly difficult. Although the course was relatively flat, there was zero crowd support. It was also the first race that I ran completely by myself. I didn't begin the race with any other running buddies and didn't know anyone else participating in the event. These circumstances made the race more challenging, psychologically. Fortunately, I had a good playlist and zoned out to some good tunes. The best part of the night before and morning of the race was all the phone calls, text messages, and emails from my friends and family. I was so excited that so many people wished me good luck and offered their congratulations to me. It meant more to me than I can even begin to express. I would like to especially thank my friend, Jacqueline, for giving me a place to stay while I was in town. Her hospitality made it easy for me to get in and out of town without any trouble.

My next race is right around the corner. I'll be running the Rhythm and Blues Half Marathon in Houston on February 19, 2012. I'm currently looking into running for Team Fox to help raise money for Parkinson's Disease research. I'll post more on running for the cause this upcoming week when I have more information. I have also stepped up my training for the next race. I'd like to invite anyone who is interested to join me for a training run or even participate in the upcoming race with me.

Thanks for all the support and I'll be updating soon!

New Years Resolution

I usually don't believe in New Years Resolutions. Everyone dreams big at the beginning of the year. "This will be my year! This year things are going to be different!" I would rather think of this "resolution" as a goal. Rather than resolving to do something, I am going to achieve something instead. This year I am going to run a half marathon race every single month. Twelve half marathons in twelve months.

At this point, I don't have any goals for time. However, I'm sure that as the year progresses, I will inevitably expect better results. Most of my races this year will most likely take place in Texas with a few special out of town appearances. Hopefully, St. Louis, Madison, and Napa Valley, to name a few.

Ideally, I'd also like to run to raise money for an organization. More on that later, though.

My first race is tomorrow morning. I'm going to be running the Texas Half Marathon in Dallas, TX. My dad and I have already decided to run the Rhythm and Blues Half Marathon on February 19 in Houston, TX.

I will be posting updates on my training schedule and racing schedule for anyone who is interested in following my progress. If anyone ever wants to join me on a run, I always love the company.

Wish me luck tomorrow and look for my post-race recap some time next week.