How Inspiring

I've become rather obsessed with a Samford alumnus named Jennifer Pharr Davis. She is currently attempting to set the record for the fastest "running" of the Appalachian Trail. I've followed her blog for the last month and cheered her on as she's made her way from Maine to Southern Virginia, usually averaging 50+ miles a day. If she makes her goal, she will hit the finish line in Georgia next week. Truly an amazing accomplishment from someone who must be one of the most stubborn, dedicated, athletes around. The NY Times ran an excellent article about her on Sunday, July 24. Here's to Jennifer!

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/24/sports/speed-hiker-pharr-davis-thrives-on-rhythms-of-appalachian-trail.html?pagewanted=all

Running hiatus

Although I started out heartily training for halfs in VA and OH this spring, that plan was waylaid by finding out that we will be having a little Wolf this fall. The goal is to run in Austin the last week of January 2012, and I cannot WAIT to get back into a regular running routine. Stay posted!

You Must Be Outta Your Mind - Nov 2010

While training for Dances with Dirt last spring I ran into my buddy Greg out at Oak Mt. At the time Greg was training for a 50k, which seemed insane considering he had never even run a 5k. Upon finishing that race Greg decided he needed a new challenge. He had other motives as well- his daughter's good friend was battling leukemia. He decided to run the Pinhoti 100, a 100 mile trail run from Anniston, AL to Sylacauga, AL to raise money for an undeniably good cause. Late in the summer Greg asked if I would pace him for a portion of the run. I agreed to ten miles.


Two weeks before his race Greg told me another pacer backed out. He was down to 2 pacers. His other pacer was flying in from SC and hadn't run in three months. Could I run 20 miles with him? That was debatable, but I couldn't say no so I bought a head lamp and planned for another camp out in the woods.


My section of the race started at 4pm. I met Greg at Mile 40 after he made it to the top of Mt. Cheaha, no small task since this is the highest peak in Alabama. We started down a trail called "Blue Hell". Hell it was. Boulder hopping, few directional signs, and legs quivering we maintained a slow and steady pace. We reached the first aid station in record speed and took off down a mostly paved road. About this time it started getting dark. Greg was slowing down. His warm clothes were at Mile 55, a problem because it was already down to 35 degrees and we were both cold. We veered off the road back onto a thin trail. A guy from Nebraska joined us at this point, both he and Greg tired but in good spirits. I kept them entertained as we ran down the trail, asking questions and telling stories to pass the time. As we ran deeper into the woods our time slowed and every so often a new runner would fall into line behind us, thankful for a fresh leader to find the way so they could continue plodding on. One man passed us who was in great shape but only wearing short running shorts and a dry fit t-shirt. Not too far down the trail I spotted him wandering in the woods off the course and made him get in line with us. At Mile 55 both Greg and I had reached the longest distances we had ever run. He had 50 more miles to go. Both slightly delirious and hypothermic, Greg lost a glove while changing. It cost us several minutes of hunting but we found it and took off. By this point his phone was chiming every few minutes with people checking on our progress. We still had 5 miles to go until we met his next pacer and we were behind by 25 minutes. At this point I could barely keep Greg running. He refused to eat every time we passed an aid station, only stuffing the occasional peanut butter sandwhich in the pocket of his cargo shorts to shut me up. Having only worn thin running pants and a light running jacket I was freezing and just wanted to keep moving. We finally heard voices down the road and stumbled into Mile 60 where I had a Dr. Pepper in the trunk for Greg and a Budlight for me. It was so cold that Greg's contact lens fell out of his eye. The only option was for me to stick it back in because Greg's hands were trembling so badly he couldn't physically do it himself. Later he told me it lasted about ten more miles. By the end of the race he had lost both contacts and was running nearly blind. Back at the aid station the man I pulled back onto the course earlier was not doing well. He had made it to the checkpoint, but was incoherent and put into a tent with a warming heater. An older man and his son in law ran into the clearing as I was getting into my car. They pleaded for me to take them back to their own car, declaring the race just too hard and too cold. It was 11:30pm and had taken me and Greg 7 hours to run just over 20 miles. I had no idea how he was going to finish the race in time.

The next day Greg told me that he started seeing lights and hearing voices at Mile 80. At Mile 85 his pacer pulled him, telling him that to continue running was too risky and he could seriously hurt himself. As his pacer looked for a race official Greg took off down the trail, weaving back and forth barely able to stand. He passed the sweeper, who could only look at him in disbelief, and kept going. He made it to the stadium with just minutes to spare. The little girl he was running for as well as his own daughter met him and ran with him the last quarter mile around the track to the finish line. He told me it was one of those moments that stays burned into your memory forever. I'm not sure either one of us would say it was fun, but it was an experience neither one of us will ever forget!

Jazz Half Marathon - Oct 2010

Voodoo Fest, a half marathon to benefit the Children's Hospital, and Halloween? How could I NOT do a race in New Orleans with all of those temptations? Considering it had only been two weeks since my last half there wasn't any training for this bad boy. I would just show up, run, and then go party down in the Crescent City.


Mistake #1. Accepting the world's strongest margarita while picking up my race packet.


Mistake #2. Helping consume a 100oz beer 10 minutes later.


Mistake #3. Forgetting the Immodium.


Mistake #4. Not drinking enough water to counter the alcohol from the night before.


Mistake #5. Dancing with strangers in the street deducts from your finish time.


If you've been to New Orleans you don't need a description. We started at the Convention Center, ran through downtown, through the garden district to the Audobon Zoo, to the turn around and then back again. It was disappointing to see that very few racers were in costume. There were three jazz bands along the route, all passing out beer. These musicians had recruited the help of several Tulane students in starting the street party so as we ran by you couldn't help but dance a few steps. For me the highlight was a house close to the zoo that was decked out with at least 20 full sized skeletons, each one posed carefully with a clever sign. I went back after the race to pose with "Murder Miss Tree", a skeleton hanging from a huge oak tree wearing an 80's prom dress.


Finish Time: 2:13:40

After watching the Auburn game at Cooter Brown's, home of the best onion rings east of the Mississippi (and I don't even like onion rings), we headed back to the hotel to get dressed up for Halloween. Considering nothing is trashy when it happens in New Orleans, I decided to go as Little Red Riding 'Ho. Matt even agreed to go as the Big Bad Wolf, at the last minute deciding to be the wolf dressed as Grandma. We hit Bourbon Street and headed straight for the Grenades. Shortly after that I got into a near fight with some girls straight out of Jersey Shore, funny how liquor = immediate fighting response. We danced the night away until my legs could barely hold me up, then in a moment of total misjudgment took my platform wedges off and walked home in nothing but fishnets. Ahhhhh, classy.

Cold Mt Is Accurate - Oct 2010

In a fit of weakness I decided to run 3 half marathons in two months. Usually I run two a year. The first race in the lineup was the Bethel Rural Half Marathon on Cold Mt., NC. If you've read the book or seen the movie, it's the same Cold Mt. The race was on a Saturday so I headed up the Friday before. Turns out the wrong address was in the GPS so it was more a 7 hour drive than a 5 hour drive. There weren't exactly hotels in rural NC and Ashville was 45 min further so I had the "brilliant" idea to camp. The sweet couple who ran the campground stayed up late to let us in. After annoying every RV in the place by blowing up the air matress for a good 20 minutes I finally crawled in the tent. Less than two hours later I woke up on the hard ground, air mattress deflated into a pointless sheet of plastic. The roosters in the field nearby started crowing about the time the alarm was going off so after a breakfast of banana bread, a protein shake, and a 5 hour energy I was off.

The race started and ended at Bethel Middle School. Although the temperature was only 35 when we started, we knew once the sun came up things would be considerably warmer. It took the first three miles for my toes to thaw out to the point I could actually feel them. We ran out on rural highways past farms, cows, horses, and donkeys galore. The fog rising off the fields was breathtaking. Every fireman in the tri-county area was recruited to come cheer us on, from engine, car and tractor. The route was flat with slow, rolling hills. I wasn't sure I had trained enough to finish the entire race, but at the split I was ahead of my normal time by a good 22 minutes. No way I was quitting! Around Mile 9 a lawyer from Ashville joined me and we talked about everything from law to music to telling jokes. We ran by my pathetic blue tent and he couldn't believe I had camped out the night before a half marathon. As we approached the finish line we realized we could beat 2 hours. He started slowing down so I cheered him on and kicked it into high gear. We didn't quite make it under the two hour mark but sure enough, I set a personal best in this race.

Finish Time: 2:00:43

Dances With Dirt - May 2010

This was the hardest race I will ever run. Since I'd run three half marathons I thought that a trail run would be a fun adventure. The race description made it sound like hell, which seemed like an exaggeration until I got there. I stayed with my friends the Schultzes, who just happened to live 10 miles from Gnaw Bone, Indiana the night before the race. They fed me pizza and wine, always a good pre-race dinner. The next morning I hopped in the rental car and followed Mapquest out to a field. Literally a field with a large barn of some kind. There were only about 200 runners and as we signed in they asked for our license tag numbers so that if someone's car was still in the field they would know to send a rescue team. I began to get alarmed. A man with a microphone stood on a truck bed and warned us there had been 8 inches of rain in the previous two days so parts of the route were underwater. We already knew we would have to cross several creeks so that didn't sound too bad. A few people withdrew. I decided that finishing in less than 3 hours would be an accomplishment, an entire hour longer than my training pace.

The horn sounded and we were off. Not too quickly as it turned out as the first 6 miles were on horse trails with mud at least 10"deep. It didn't matter how tightly you tied your shoes, no matter what they got sucked off by the mud every other step. My socks were so disfigured from being pulled off and on that I finally sat down, took them off, and threw them in the woods, telling myself that cotton is recycleable. We finally came to a road through a camp ground where they had the first aid station. Every runner had to check in to make sure we weren't lost (yet). Little did I know but because the roads were flooded they only had 3 aid stations, not nearly enough given the conditions. The pavement didn't last long and we were back in the forest, this time forging creek after creek. I just gave into getting wet and didn't even bother to find easier crossing after about the 8th rushing rapid. I was glad to have my phone with me and took several pictures during the race (hey, not like it was going to be a PR). A nice guy from Detroit caught up with me about then and joined me in fighting our way up some serious switchbacks for the next two miles. This section was all OFF TRAIL. I had trained at Oak Mt ON TRAILS LIKE A SANE PERSON. After finding myself wandering off course several times I caught up with an older man who must have been able to see how close I was to collapsing at this point and offered me a swig of his Gatorade. I'd have been happier if he offered a piggyback ride. We finally reached the top which took us back out of the forest and into the section affectionately called "The Ski Slope". It should have been called "The Ankle Breaker". This was a steep, downhill slope about a 1/4 mile long covered in golf ball shaped rocks. Running down it would have been a suicide mission. After that it was back to flat land and the random field in the middle of nowhere. They had water hoses set up so we could rinse off. You can't tell how muddy I am in the picture above, but my shoes are normally lime green. I drove back to Fred and Jennifer's wearing only my underwear and a sports bra, then hosed off again before even attempting walking on their snow white carpeting. I'm pretty sure they will never let me stay there again.

Finish Time: 3:29:20 (ave finish time was 3:15:35)

ING Georgia- March 2010

What could be better than running a half for your birthday? Lot's of things really, but I chose the ING half in Atlanta. My race bib even said "Birthday Girl" (their doing, not mine). Once again I failed to book a hotel in advance, this time ending up very close to the starting line, but in a hotel that was far from up to standards. First, it had doors on the outside (a deal breaker for me). Second, it was hosting some Black Georgia Rally and these people were as thug as they come. I was seriously frightened when we heard the door rattling at around 2am but it was just a drunk guy at the wrong room... talk about a good night's sleep...

The race started and ended at Olympic Centennial Park. It was about 40 degrees and raining, a good 20 degrees colder than the weather gurus had predicted. I had on pants but most of the runners around me hadn't brought any and were literally freezing their asses off. As the gun sounded the front line took an uphill climb which was neat to watch as you could see what looked like an entire army of runners spread out for miles. The route led us down into old Atlanta past the house where MLK was born. There were churches on nearly every corner and most of them had a choir out front singing us towards the finish line. We needed it as it started raining about this time and we were all wet and miserable. Being Atlanta this was a super hilly course, and the Virginia-Highland neighborhood was no exception. Running past mansions is pretty though, and it went by quickly. After a quick jaunt through the Georgia Tech campus we were back on Marietta Street and at the finish line! This was not a moment too soon because by then there were gale force winds of about 20mph. Wrapping in a sheet of insulation foil did nothing. I got my race bag from the holding area, stopped for a cup of coffee, and shook my way back up Spring Street to the hotel where I took the hottest bath of my life in the dirtiest bath tub I've ever seen.

Finish Time 2:14:39

Chicago Half Marathon- Sept 2009

It had been another six months since my last half and I was dating an avid workoutaholic. We agreed that it would be fun to run the Chicago Half Marathon together. Well, not together, but simultaneously. I had never been to Chicago and everyone said it was a great race so we rented a condo and booked a flight.

Race morning arrived and so did a crowd of 10,000 runners. It was sheer insanity. I found my corral and jockeyed under the rope for a spot in the crowd. The gun went off and we didn't move for a good minute, that's how far back I was. We started at the Jackson Park Golf Course and ran through the U of Chicago campus to Lakeshore Drive where we ran around the lake and finally ended up back at the golf course. This was my first time running an out and back course, which means you see the same thing twice. I am not a fan. Although I had trained hard for this race, something wasn't right and I threw up my breakfast of champions at Mile 9. This is the worst thing that can happen as your electrolyte imbalance immediately is thrown off and you feel like you want to die. I alternated between walking and running the last four miles, cursing the fact that I had no way to pay one of the hundred cab drivers a street over to take me back to the condo. There were so many people at the finish race they made us ride school buses back to the pier. I don't think I will ever do a race that size again.

Finish time: 2:20:00

Other than the race, Chicago was a lot of fun. The night before the race we went to a new section of town called Bucktown and ate at a great place that had the largest outdoor covered patio I've ever seen. Guess you need that in Chicago. Afterwards we had a couple glasses of wine across the street. I met the love of my wine life, a 2008 Mendel Mendoza Malbec. We ordered a case when we got home and I have one bottle left, carefully guarded on my kitchen counter. After the race we absolutely had to have a pizza from Lou Malnati's. The next day we walked the pier and took the metro over to watch some football at Fuego. They made what is hands down the best tableside guacamole ever. When I go back to Chicago, it will be to have more guac not pizza!

Kentucky Derby Mini Marathon- April 2009

At the beginning, my desire to run half marathons was the direct result of my love life, or lack thereof. In April 2009 I found myself single again and vowed to resume my active lifestyle. It was right about this time that I decided to add Running a Half Marathon in All 50 States to my bucket list. Part of Derby Week includes a half marathon and I'd never seen a real horse race, so I signed up and booked a flight.

The night before the race my friend Will took me to what happens to be the best Indian food you can find in the South, a little place called Kashmir, within walking distance of his house. The restaurant suffered major damage from a fire in 2010 but happily is set to re-open soon. Neither one of us finished our meals and took the leftovers to go. We didn't even make it to the end of the block before a young homeless couple asked if they could have our food. Without question we handed the boxes to them, but to be honest I was saddened to give it away!

The next morning Will begrudgingly awoke at 5 am to take me to the starting line, only after mocking my warm-up routine which occurred in the floor of his hallway. Let's just say that vaseline and moleskin aren't sexy. We stopped at a convenience store on the way to the race so I could pick up some Immodium, a trick that I learned many, many runners use before a race. A cop at 7-11 offered to buy me a donut, which may have been the one and only time I have ever turned down such an offer.

The course was beautiful. My favorite section was through a large park with some rolling hills. I was about exhausted by this point when a woman pushing a jogging stroller passed me by. She was pushing a jogging stroller carrying a little girl of about 7 who obviously suffered from cerebral palsy. Knowing she had to be pushing a good 80 pounds up and down those hills I ran over and gave her a hand for that mile, thanking God for my own good health along the way. We parted ways as we hit downtown Louisville, where there were cheering crowds on most corners. I've never heard Eye of the Tiger as many times as I did then. Finally we ran into the tunnel leading into Churchill Downs and up onto the backside of the track. Horses with trainers flashed by as we pounded through, drawing from our excitement as well as their own. Tad and his son met me at the finish line. Dillon was a little overwhelmed by the huge crowd, but six months later they returned to the same spot and he declared, "Hey Dad, isn't this where we met Leah after the race?". Perhaps I've inspired a future runner :)

Finish Time: 2:20:18

Music City Half Marathon- Oct 2008

By the time I registered for my half marathon all of the hotels close to the race finish were long since full. I ended up at a rather ghetto Holiday Inn, although it did have a guitar shaped pool.

The race started a good 30 min late. This was fine with me since my stomach was all butterflies, which was due in part to the fact that I had a banana, 5 hour energy, and slim fast for breakfast. While we all waited I met Bridgette and Katie, who were training for their first full marathon and had already run 13 miles that morning. Overachievers.

The three of us set off, with the two of them keeping pace on their fancy Garmin GPS watches. This was fine as my 11 min pace was right in line with theirs. The route took us through a junk yard, out on a wetland preserve and ended up in the Predators stadium. There were only two aid stations and ZERO port o potties, forcing Bridgette to veer into some tall grass at one point. A girl fell about 8 miles in and the race officials had no plan for a way to get her back out. Runners all around me declared that the race was awful and they would never return. When we finally got to the finish line they had run out of medals so Katie gave me hers declaring that it would be tragic to run my first half marathon with no medal. I ran just a few steps further and to my surprise a good friend of mine from high school stood at the finish line with his camera poised for the shot! It was only halfway through the race that I realized I would have no way of taking a picture since I had come alone, so seeing him was doubly rewarding.

Finish time: 2:23:40

D.J. waited for me to shower and then we hit a fabulous Mexican restaurant. While we were eating I got a phone call. Turned out the girl who fell during the race broke her hip and couldn't use her ticket to the Auburn-Vanderbilt game so she gave them to a friend of mine who knew I would love to go! DJ and I left the restaurant and headed to the stadium for some pregaming. If you've ever been in the Vandy stadium you know that it is very, very steep and the seats are very, very close together. By halftime my quads were screaming from jumping up and down. We barely made it back to the car but it was worth it, although Auburn lost.

All in all, my first half marathon experience was a pretty good one.

Let the Training Begin

First of all, Hal Higdon is a slave driver. Running six days a week? Who does this? Does he know how hot it is in Alabama in September? Maybe he can come run with me through downtown Birmingham after dark so that I don't have to run with my pistol in the band of my Nike shorts? Why did I decide to run a half marathon? Who does that??

These were a few of the thoughts running through my head during the 12 week training program. Every day I would show up to the office with my running bag, wait for everyone to leave for the night, change in the bathroom, do some crunches on the floor of the main lobby, and head out. It's funny the people you see every day while running who become "friends" even though you never speak. Like the guy in the projects who sits outside his front door blaring his boombox and wishing each passerby a "blessed day". If he's gone my run feels a bit off. Or the security guard who stands under the bridge on Morris Ave who gets a huge kick out of scaring runners half to death by stepping out from behind a pole just as you pass him.

Over the course of twelve weeks I began to run faster, farther and remembered how much I loved running. I found a website that lists all of the half marathons in the USA by month and state and decided on the Music City Marathon in Nashville, TN. It was time to see if I could finish what I started.

Hal Who?

My choice in running partners has always been unfortunate. Back in college I often ran with girls from the cross country team, or should I say they ran and I panted along behind them. In law school my running buddy of choice was a good friend of mine who happens to be 6'0 and has legs as long as my entire body. Although she never admitted to it, I am pretty sure that she used our 3-5 mile runs as her warm up and then did a real run after ours. She got married and moved, putting an end to the runs I loved so much. She was the one who suggested that getting back into running was the best way to slim down, relieve stress, and a good alternative to hitting the bars looking for new "potential victims". Amusing coming from the person who routinely showed up at work hung over and was notorious for passing out at the bar at the Barking Kudu. She told me about some crazy running guy named Hal Higdon who has a whole training program for running. That was when I decided I would run my very first half marathon.

Facing the truth

Back in September 2008, I stood in front of my closet, surrounded by rejected skirt suits and blouses littering the floor. After several months of ignoring the fact that a growing number of clothing items were no longer capable of being fully zipped or worn at all, it was time to face the truth. Considering I vehemently refuse to buy anything over a Size 6 (not really an accomplishment of skinniness at barely 5'5") this meant sewing my mouth shut indefinitely. A little gym time couldn't hurt either, and after working 14+ hour days for the last year, seeing the inside of a gym was not something that happened routinely. And so it began...