We Live in a Van, Down by the River - Ragnar Style

If you've been following along, you've read the prologue...you've read the Pre-Ragnar chronicles, and you've heard all about the party. If you *haven't*, go ahead and click any of those handy-dandy links, to get caught up.

Caught up? Excellent...then let's get going...

Friday morning dawned relatively bright and chilly in Hull. We had all agreed to go down to the start, to see the our first runner off, for his first leg, even though the fine friends in van 2 wouldn't need to get running for quite some time. We headed out around 5:15 and drove straight to the beach. The sun was just starting to peak it's head out on the horizon line and though it was a tad bit nippy to be at a northeastern beach, the sunrise was totally worth the shivers...

*almost* enough to make you not miss your blankets

Of course, we had to take advantage of the scenic backdrop and the fact that we were all in our snazzy outfits, complete with Glitter Skirts to get our first team picture.

After that, we passed the time by, what else, taking some selfies!

Photobomber on the loose!!

The Executive Pastry Chef accidentally photobombing

This kid just keeps popping up in photos!

We also had some more traditional pics...

Some dude asked The Flash for this pic...
because he looked like "A Serious Runner"

The Mighty B was all smiles and grins!

"Get this thing off of me"

Our first runner was the PIC's brother, who had 6.7 miles to run...3-2-1 and our race had begun! We quickly headed back to the vans and piled in to start driving up the road, so that we could met him and get his headlamp and vest from him...6AM was technically still part of the "nighttime hours", so he had to start off wearing them...even though the sun was up.

We caught up with him right around mile 3, and he was looking strong. We helped him strip and then rushed off to the first handoff...which was to TBC, for a 3.58 mile jaunt.

He took off like a ROCKET. We hurried back to the van, and ran into some congestion trying to get out of the parking lot...by the time we got out on the road and passed him, he'd already cruised through half of his course. So we sped up and went to the second handoff where I would start my first leg...I rushed over to use a porta-potty...thankfully they have a "runner on deck" one reserved, so that you don't get stuck in a line...I stepped out of the loo and they called out our team number, meaning he was in the final stretch...I actually had to run over to the chute to get there in time, because he was FLYING...

He didn't enjoy that *at all*, lol...you can see me running off in the background

...and off I went for 8.62 miles.

Now, let me step back for a minute...when the PIC was talking us all in to this race, one of the "selling points" was the fact that it was "such a flat course." I call bullshit. On this leg alone, I gained 200+ feet of elevation in the span of 2 miles. With each successive leg, we gave the PIC more and more sideways eyeball...flat my ass!

Note the sharp incline...followed by a flat...and then another sharp incline...and then *what the fuck?!?!?!* 

It was grey and damp but about 65 degrees, so not terrible running weather...there were a handful of runners in my line of sight, at any given time, but unlike any other race I have ever done, there were no crowds or spectators..which was kind of weird. It felt more like a training run then anything. The scenery was pleasant enough...I mainly ran through some residential areas. It was a school day, and it was a little after 7AM, so there were lots of kiddos standing at bus stops, staring at me in all of my glittery glory...I simply called out to them "Stay in school!"

All was well and good and my team mates appeared along the course to cheer me on...which is awesome...and all was well...until suddenly, my watch lost it's mind...and stated chiming off miles every 10 steps or so. Not bueno. Before I knew it, my watch had me at 12 miles...and I hadn't the foggiest idea how far I had actually gone. Nor how far I had to go. I decided to look at the time elapsed and then extrapolate how far I might have already gone...which was a fruitless endeavor.

As I finally ran up on the "One Mile to Go" sign, I was pretty relieved...this run was harder than what I had been banking on, and I worried that it might be indicative of how the rest of this experience was going to be for me...all thoughts of this promptly fell out of my head though as I rounded the corner and headed down the chute, to hand off to Mr. Man.

I can totally see him at this point...

Mr. Man took off and we scurried to get ahead of him...he had had foot surgery just 6 weeks earlier, and we weren't even certain he would be *able* to run...when asked to provide a pace for him, I kept it extremely conservative and quoted around 10:15...in case he needed to walk.

Ha!

Ha ha ha ha!

That stinker blew through his 3.22 at a 8:19...so quickly that there were *no* pictures to be had of him. By either *us* or the official Ragnar photogs.

I'm almost done, right??

He handed off to the PIC, so that he could run his first 7.3 mile leg. We met up a couple of times, to give him water and praise, before finally heading off to the hand off, where he passed the slap bracelet to his SIL, so that she could bring it on home to  van #2, and the Flash.

Now, it needs to be said, PIC's SIL is not a runner. Or at least, she *was not* a runner before this. She and her new hubby - yes, they are newlyweds and A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E - decided to do this race together, as a means of getting fit and healthy and active together. That or they were drunk. I'm certain it was one of those...

Yeah! It's Mr. Man!!!

...at any rate, this was a HUGE undertaking for any of us, but perhaps mostly for her. She bit the bullet and was running 3 legs, each of a distance longer than she had really ever run before. She set out on that first leg with a big smile and a great attitude...

We drove ahead, so that we could greet her a few miles in, with some water and love...and stopped and took some silly shots...cause that's how we roll.

That first major van exchange was WILD. There was music and cheering and shopping and antics galore. Getting in to the area was sort of awful, as the exchange is at a small, private beach...you drive down a narrow, 2 lane road that is being shared by van traffic in both directions *and* runners. A bunch of us bailed out of the van to go over to the chute, so that we could be sure to catch the hand off while Mr. Man worked on parking the van.

The Arch!

 With the slap bracelet safely on the arm of The Flash, we made our way back to our van and headed out to find ice, real bathrooms and food that didn't come from a cooler...

We settled on a Target parking lot, and all of the other van 1 folks were kind enough to GTFO so that I could reorganize the van, because my eye was starting to twitch from the chaos that was the inside of the van...before too long, everything was in it's place and we headed over to Red Robin for some grenade and then on to our next van exchange point, to rest...

...and that is where I will leave you for tonight.

Party On Ragnar

When last we left our intrepid adventurers - at least *some* of them -  they had just arrived at Boston Logan.

Hi there!!!

Did you miss that part?  Well then, by all means, catch up on the adventures here and here...

See? Utterly GINROMOUS

We hailed an uber which, I have to say, is probably my favorite thing so far about living in 2016. 

Even if it has actually been *a thing* since 2009. 

What can I say? I was not an *early adopter*...but hey, I live in Amish country, so cut me some slack. It's not like they have uber horse ad buggy...or *do* they???

Anyway, first stop was the van rental place, Adventure Rentals. Let me pause here and give them a little love...the vans, though GINORMOUS, were AWESOME. Clean, new, comfy and utterly GINORMOUS.

After a few tense moments, figuring out that *someone*, who shall remain nameless, but who may or may not be photobombing the picture of the van, had somehow put the van into a strange "manual mode", we were on our way to our hotel.

While en route there, we heard from the NY crew, who were packing up into a car, to begin the trek northward.

From top left - Undercover Superhero, Brother of Undercover Superhero,
The Executive Pastry Chef,
The PIC's SIL and The PIC's Bro 

We checked in, without incident, piled into one of the vans and then made our way out to eat and then grab provisions...

Pillows - Check!
Water- Check!
Window Chalk Markers - Check!
Swedish Fish - Check!

...ok, we were good.

Also? It's pretty and airy...

We headed back to the hotel, to get ready for the pre-race party, which was held at Reebok headquarters and then took off for Canton.

Now, let me tell you a thing about the Reebok headquarters...I want to live there. They have a full sized soccer pitch...they have a rubberized 1/4 mile track, encircling one of the buildings. They have conference rooms that double as cardio studios. They have random treadmills just hanging out in the hallway. I'm pretty sure I could live there, happily ever after.

Oh, hello 1/4 mile track...

After ogling the grounds a bit, we headed in to the registration area, to check our team in and watch our safety video...

We checked in without incident and then heard from the NY crew that they were almost there...so we wandered around, taking in the sights, awaiting their grand entrance...

Gee, *what* kind of event was this?
Too bad there weren't any signs...

The Mighty B and The Flash had plans to take in a Red Socks game at Fenway, so they skedaddled out, but not before the NY crew got there and introductions were made...

I will say this, in the interest of full disclosure...for a party that was so widely publicized by Reebok/Ragnar, I was a little disappointed in what they had to offer. I was expecting something more like a typical race expo...I mean, there were some vendors, but probably no more than 5. The invite promised van decorating goodies and, best of all, FOOD TRUCKS. There were 2. We left hungry.

At some point, for reasons that I no longer remember, I was left alone in the expo...now, if you've been reading Duchess Pandora's Box for any length of time, you know darned well that this is a recipe for calamity...or at least something really messed up to go down.

This was no exception.

One of the 5 vendors was hawking some sort of race belt, calledThe Tube...now, I'll say this, it's quite comfy and stretchy. I know this, because one of the sales women grabbed me and slid one on me.

Which was awkward aplenty.

Then she went on to show me the various pockets.

By putting her hands into them.

While I was wearing the contraption.

Even more awkward.

She was especially exuberant in her demonstration of the rear pocket, right on my butt.

At which point I looked at her and said "Hey, this is the most action I've gotten all day...and I've already been patted down by TSA twice, so that is saying something."

She didn't seem to get the point.

At any rate, while a comfortable product, it has 2 major drawbacks (three if you count an overly handsy salesgirl)
1 - It's not waterproof or even wear resistant
2 - No bib clips

These two were really great sports!

Anyway, I finally managed to extricate myself from her groping, just in time to see the Amish arrive.

No, really. Ish.

I guess they *do* have uber.

Right after that, the NY crew made their grand arrival and we headed out to the food trucks and the van decorating.

Although Ragnar *did* supply us with some glass decorating markers, they were barely noticeable, so I am really, really glad that we stocked up earlier, at Walmart and Target.

The PIC's brother proved himself to be quite handy at reproducing the Sole Crushers logo on the van, so we of course had to document his efforts.

Such concentration 

Which were AWESOME.

Pretty sweet, eh?

We also decided that no van, carrying so many OD30 members, would be complete without a little "Daily Bunny" love, so we added him to our sweet ride.

The PIC is no Picasso, but it ain't half bad

Wile we were decorating, there were shenanigans...there was a beer mile going on, on the aforementioned track...Reebok was providing shoes for you to run a mile in while throwing back some cold ones...being a lightweight, I passed.

Zoolander and Hansel put in an appearance, as well, so I *had* to get a picture with them..though I have zero chill or blue steel apparently...

I'm more of a confused smile kind of girl myself...

Shortly after that, it was time to head back to Logan Airport and pick up Mr. Man and TBC. The drive into Boston at dusk was really pretty...and surprisingly fast!

That'll do Boston, that'll do...

We had them in the van in no time! We checked in with the others, to find out when and where the eating would go down...and checked in with the baseball buddies...who were having a ball, as it were...

Oh, and also, clearly a hot dog

We met up with the rest of the crew at a local place and threw down some grenade to fuel us for the next day's adventure and then headed back to the hotel to crash...

...the rest? Is a story for another day.

The Pre-Ragnar Agony...

If you haven't already read the intro, you might want to catch up, here...we'll wait.

Welcome back...now let's get going...

In the months leading up to Ragnar, there were circumstances and happenings and happenstances and unluckiness a plenty...

First, TBC broke his collarbone. He was out of commission for a full 8 weeks. Luckily, he was back in action by February, so plenty of time to recover for the race.

The Frankenfoot

Then Mr. Man finally got his much needed foot surgery scheduled...Huzzah! Except...they scheduled it for 6 weeks before Ragnar....whomp, whomp. Which made his ability to run the race...questionable...at best.

Then TBC got a nasty, awful terribly, very bad case of strep throat...which kept him out of school for a full week. As a responsible parent, it seemed pretty irresponsible to pull him from *more* school, to run a race...

So we posted that we had 2 spots available on our team, to see if anyone would bite...

...a week passed. No one did. (or at least we *thought* no one did...turns out they *did*...but Facebook, in it's inimitable wisdom, had moved the messages to the mythical and mysterious "Filtered Message Requests" folder. Never to be seen nor heard from again...or at least not until much too late.)

So we decided to cross our fingers, say a prayer and hope for the best. Original team stayed assembled, truant teenager and hobbled husband included.

The next big kerfuffle was an eleventh hour call from the van rental company...the PIC had reserved 2 15 passenger behemoths for us, months in advance...and now, suddenly, the company that he had rented them through had opted to shutter the doors on that location. So he had to scramble to find an alternative.

But, he's a hero, so he succeeded. And our epic journey seemed bound for greatness...I mean, really? What else could go wrong? Right?

Right??

RIGHT????

As I may or may not have mentioned in the past, I have really, really, REALLY shitty travel karma.

I set out for the airport at 3:20am on Thursday. My flight was set to leave at 6:54am.

I arrived at the airport to find that the security line looked like something out of pre-fast pass Disney World.  The line snaked around the corner, down the hall and straight on through to the far side of the moon.

I nervously started texting my husband and asking the TSA folks for guidance and maybe a little help...nope. They said "It's gonna be *close*."

I got to the gate 10 minutes before the flight was set to depart, and found the plane sitting there, presumably with my luggage safely stowed beneath it.

But the doors were shut.

I asked the nearest Spirit Air employee to help me...their answer was, quite simply, that I was not getting on that plane. 

The "fine" people of Spirit Air were gracious enough to be of absolutely no help whatsoever in helping me find an alternative flight arrangement.

They would rebook me...but not until the next day. Which wouldn't work, since we would be starting our run at 6AM.

They said they could put me on stand-by for the flight that Mr. Man and TBC were flying out on...but it wasn't a guarantee.

I asked if they could help me find a flight on another airline. Nope.

I was on the verge of tears and may have whimpered. I don't think they noticed...

Thankfully, Southwest was happy to have my business.

Oh goody. *Another* security line.

Less thankfully the terminals didn't connect with one another. So I got to go through a second security line. And pat down. But I made it. With an hour plus to spare...

Happily, I had a fully charged iPad and a rental of Deadpool to watch...so everything was coming up roses...FINALLY.

The flight was FULL. And of course, since I had only *just* booked it, I was in one of the later boarding groups. Which meant I was absolutely *guaranteed* a seat in the middle. Of two strangers. My *favorite* place to be.

I entered the plane and started eyeing my potential neighbors...looking for a pair that didn't appear to be too objectionable...but trying to hold off on making eye contact until I got close enough to attempt to give them the "sniff test". Don't judge, BO is a *thing*.

I found some likely contestants and decided to engage..."Hey, I don't snore, I don't talk, I won't take up much room and I promise not to bite, kick, thrash nor throw-up...mind if I sit between you?"

With an offer like that, how could they refuse?

The flight went off without any hitches, and I landed safely in Boston, without incident. I was met, at my gate, by the PIC...and then we scurried off to meet up with the rest of the early flight crew - the Flash, The Mighty B and Liz - performed a daring rescue of my luggage, which contained the all important Glitter Skirts, and then we called our Uber!

The Flash, The Mighty B, Liz, ME and the PIC

The rest...will come after some rest! 

Ragnar - The Prologue

Way back when, in 2012, when we were training for our first full marathon, my PIC (Partner In Crime) signed up to do a Ragnar Relay. I’d never heard of one, but it sounded like a grueling ordeal to me…2 vans, 12 people, 200 miles in 2 days, no sleep.

 The idea of being trapped in a van with so many people…*stinky* people…sounded awful. I’m a bit (read: 100%, Grade A) of an introvert, so really, not being able to get away from people and all of the stimulus for that long is my idea of torture.

To him, it sounded like the perfect way to check his 16 mile training run off, as it coincided pretty perfectly. Now, let me just put this out here…my PIC? Not a fan of the running. He’ll be the first to tell you that he actually *doesn’t enjoy* running. He likes *races*…he *hates* training.

Anyway, August came and he packed himself up and went on an adventure…and he LOVED it. Like passionately, fervently, religiously L-O-V-E-D loved it. And has spent every year since then trying to convince me to come out and run one with him. And I have resisted. Until this year.

One of my goals for this year – my top goal, actually – is to run with as many people that I know from the internet, in real life, as possible. Between Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and the blogosphere, I have made some really amazing running friends…most of whom I have never met. I want 2016 to be the year of running with them. So, when the PIC started posting about his Ragnar experience in the O’Dark Thirty Virtual Run Club on Facebook, we suddenly had the opportunity to gather 12 folks for a team…and before I knew what had happened, we had a team for Ragnar Cape Cod…Team Sole Crushers…

Our team consisted of:

Van 1

• Myself – No intro needed. At least I hope not. I mean, if you’re here and you need an intro, then I’m kind of confused about how you got here. You’re welcome for sure…but how did this happen?
• TBC (The Boy Child) – My 14 year old son. My first born, soccer loving, goofball of a kid.
• Mr. Man – The peanut butter to my bacon, the pickles to my ice cream, the one and true love of my life.
• The PIC – My bestie, my Partner In Crime
• The PIC’s Brother – Multi-talented, board game designing, food loving, real life teddy bear. Totally tolerable dude too. ;)
• The PIC’s Brother’s Wife – Just about the cutest, sweetest lady I have met in a long time.

Van 2

• The PIC’s Brother’s Cousin – Undercover Super Hero
• The PIC’s Brother’s Cousin’s Brother – Super nice, shirt-off-his-back kind of guy
• The PIC’s Brother’s Boss – This lady is a hoot. And a pastry chef. And a bad ass runner. So pretty much the total package.
• The Flash – My co-worker and dear friend. Dude is seriously speedy but is always willing and ready to slow down to *your* pace and stay with you. And he makes it all look *easy*. Like “Oh, sub 7 minute miles? NBD.”
• The Mighty B – We were cheerleaders together in high school and we still kind of are…this one totally defies the “dumb cheerleader mold” though and is a bad ass STEM teacher.
• Liz – OK…I tried to come up with a clever nickname but this is a warrior mama we are talking about here. She’s sweet and loving and passionate and fierce. We met online 15 years ago, when we were both fighting to become moms…and the fight hasn’t gone out of her yet.

So, the PIC was unanimously voted captain, and our adventure began...

The Brooks Running Run Happy Hour

Last night marked another foray outside of my comfort zone.

"Live Lager". Heh.

Our local running store, The Appalachian Running Company was hosting a neat event...the Brooks Running Run Happy Happy Hour. Conveniently, the ARC is located right next to a bar...so pulling off a happy hour event is sort of a no brainer.

A local(ish) Brooks representative was on hand, handing out Brooks Pint Glasses - super, duper cool - and showing off some of the upcoming models of shoes. He also brought a bunch of sweet Brooks clothes for folks to try on and (of course) buy. Everyone that came got a coupon for a free beer, next door.

The night was to kick off at 5:30, with an easy 3 mile run.

I saw the event on my FB feed and immediately checked off that I was going.

And then I immediately started stressing and coming up with reasons that I probably wouldn't be able to make it.

Both Mr. Man and TBC had indoor soccer training, in the opposite direction, at different locations at about the same time. There was no way I would be able to make it.

Nope. Not a chance.

C'mon Adidas...you just can't *pay*
for that kind of ad space.

But then fate stepped in. On Sunday, TBC was on the receiving end of a really vicious tackle, during the last game of the season...well, of the outdoor season, anyway...it was one of those tackles that makes the whole sideline *gasp* in shared parental horror. He went airborne, flipped and then came crashing down on his shoulder. The rest of his body crumpled to the ground and then rebounded for a sickening little bounce.

The kid hit the ground hard enough that he had "Adidas" bruised into his upper thigh...not from being stepped on, but from the embroidered logo on his shorts. That's right, ladies and gents, he got bruised by...thread. Stop and think about that, for a minute. Just how hard do you need to hit the ground to get  thread to *bruise* you? Ask TBC. He can now tell you.

So, yeah. Bad tackle.

Not surprisingly, this adventure scored him a trip to Urgent Care for his very first set of X-rays.

The crack is the white line,
right above the joint.

Verdict? Fractured collarbone and separation of the shoulder joint. No soccer (or much of anything else) for 4-6 weeks. This will be the absolute longest that this child has gone without playing soccer since he was 5.

Suddenly, only 1 of my boys had indoor soccer during the event.

No reason not to go now.

I got there exactly on time. I pulled into the parking lot and immediately felt a little queasy, when I realized that there was not a single parking spot available. The lot was overflowing. I'd have to improvise a spot.

I zipped up my light up vest and strapped on my head lamp, took a deep breath and walked across the parking lot towards the group of people that seemed to be pouring out of the store. I did a quick scan of the crowd, to see if anyone looked even vaguely familiar. Nobody did.

Moments later, we all took off on our run.

I found a comfortable spot, nestled behind a group of folks that seemed to know one another pretty well. They chatted amicably and I tried to be unobtrusive and wondered what the heck I would do if any of them actually talked to me.

Not a bad way to spend a
Wednesday evening

It was a simple out and back. Nothing terribly scenic or challenging, but not a bad run. I chuckled to myself about how this group of blinky-flashy fools must look to the drivers in the cars that happened past us. We were in something of an industrial area, so it's not exactly prone to having runners back there, let alone en masse in the dark!

On the way back, I noticed a women a few strides ahead of me had an untied shoe. I pushed a bit, to bring myself even with her and worked on screwing up the nerve to mention her untied shoe to her...when suddenly, she stepped off the course, to tie it. Ah well. Maybe next time.

Anyway, before too long, we were back at the store. I trotted back to my car, so that I could dispose of the light up gear and grab my glasses and wallet. As I got to the car, I briefly considered just getting in my car and heading back home. I'd gone on a "group run", wasn't that enough socializing?

I talked myself out of it and back into the store I went. If nothing else, by golly, I was getting that darned pint glass!

For the next 20 or so minutes, I meandered around the store. I collected my pint glass, tried on a quilted, winter skirt (which I bought for a super cheap $25!!!), talked to one woman, briefly, about a spray to get the stink out of athletic gear and tried not to look like a psycho.

Just as I was getting ready to bolt, a non-running friend of mine, from work popped in to say hi and give me an intro to a friend of his that is part of the running community. We talked for a few minutes and then, finally, I called it a night.

Though I didn't stay, to have a beer with the other runners - though I'm not 100% sure how many of them stuck around, to be honest - I did make an effort and put myself in a social situation where I knew NO ONE.

We're going to call this one a win, and try to ride that victor wave through next Tuesday, to another group run, with the Chambersburg Beer Runners. Who knows, maybe this time I will even stick around for a beer.

Who You Callin' a Turkey, Turkey?

As has become habit, over the years, I will be running on Thanksgiving Day...

...over the last several years, the time after the Twin Cities Marathon but before Thanksgiving has become a different kind of training cycle for me. One in which I train to run faster, in the hopes of finishing our local 5K Turkey Trot faster than I did the year before.

The past couple of years have brought great success...

This year, we will be in Massachusetts, visiting my sister in law, her husband and their two kids. My mother and father in law will also be there. It will be a full and festive house.

So, our local Turkey Trot is squarely *off* the table.

Running a race, however, is not.

This year, I will not be training for speed. In fact, if I'm completely honest, *I* am not training myself at all.

After researching local Thanksgiving Day offerings, I honed in on the Wild Turkey Road Race, in Salem, Massachusetts. It's a reasonable drive from my SIL's house and, I mean, c'mon, it's SALEM!!
 
What could be more fun than running past the statue of Samantha, from Bewitched? ;)

Just a little freezing 

There is a wrinkle though...this is not a 5k, it's a 5 MILER. No big deal for Mr. Man or I, perhaps...not an absolute deal breaker for TBC...but for TGC? Well...this could be a challenge...I really wasn't sure what she would say...in general, she *tolerates* the occasional family run, but she typically doesn't LOVE it. In fact, the weekend of the TCM, there is a 5K. The last two years, we have signed the kids up to do it. When we reminded her of this fact, in the weeks leading up to the race, she looked us squarely in the face and said "I don't remember agreeing to this."

Tongues out for a good race!

About a week before the race, I asked her if she would like to wear a sparkly skirt and dress, more or less in a costume for the run. She liked that idea, and we pulled together an Iron Man  inspired outfit for her...and she was deliciously adorable.

The morning of the race dawned, cold and bright. We got the kids dressed and ready and headed down to the start.We had them bundled up in toasty outer layers, to keep them reasonably warm.

When the time came to drop them off in their corrals, we took those outer layers, so that they could snuggle up in them, post-race and then went and staked out a good vantage point from which to snap eleventy million pictures of the start...which we did.

Smile big!

Once they were out of sight, we meandered over to the finish shoot, and watched the first of the elites start to trickle in.

And we prepared to wait.

TBC had a pretty aggressive time goal set for himself.

Home stretch

Last year, he ran this race in a respectable 24:27.

This year, he was hoping to break 22:00.

While he missed that goal, he did crush his last PR for this distance and run it in 23:35.

We were pretty darned proud of the boy.

After that, we settled in to wait for TGC and the PIC's kids. (for a refresher in who the PIC - Partner In Crime -  is, visit here)

Post-race, last year

Now, last year, TGC had crossed the finish line at 40:30.

The PIC's youngest finished at her side and his eldest crossed at 36:07.

So, we prepared to wait.

We cheered on the runners.

We chatted with the other spectators.

We stalked TGC via "Find My Phone".

...When we looked, we were a little surprised at TGC's location...somehow, we thought she would have been much further up the course by the time that we checked.

We reminded ourselves that she had't really wanted  to do this race, let alone trained for it. She would probably come in pretty close to her time from last year. Regardless, we would be proud of her.

You GO girl!

So, here's the thing: it's an out and back course...it's not that she was still on her way  there, she was tearing it up, on her way back.

Our jaws dropped as we realized that we could see the glint of her skirt in the distance...she finished in 31:16.

She dropped nearly 10 minutes from her time the year before.

Better than that though, was the smile on her face. She was grinning, from ear to ear, as she ran down that shoot. In her face, I saw the joy that I feel when I run, shining back at me. She was elated. She had had fun!!

I mean, c'mon!!! Look at that smile!

When we talked about it, she revealed that, all along the course, spectators had complimented her on her outfit...and she loved every second of it. She looked me square in the eye and said, "If I can dress up for it, I'll run all of the races."

My babies!!!

I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.

Which brings us back to Thanksgiving, and the Wild Turkey run...

So, I timidly brought up the notion of doing a 5 mile race.

TBC said "Sure! Let's do it!" to the surprise of precisely no one.

Mr. Man shrugged and said "I go where you tell me to."

TGC said "Can we dress as witches?"

I bit my tongue as hard as I could, to stop the gleeful "OF COURSE WE CAN!!! HOW COULD WE NOT?!??! IT'S SALEM FOR PETE'S SAKE!!!" from escaping and put on my "responsible mom voice."

"Now, it is 5 miles...you haven't run that far before, without walking. If you want to run this, you're going to have to train for it, you know?"

She turned those green-gold eyes up at me and said "Will you help me train, mama?"

...and so it is, that I find myself waking my mini-me, at 5AM on a school day, 3-4 times a week, to strap on a headlamp, and join me on the roads.

This kid. She's kind of a bad ass.

On Finding My Life Pace Group

When I first started running again, back in 2011, I did it, in part, to have something that was *mine*. Something I was in control of. Something that I could call every shot in.

I had just gone back to work, after spending 3+ years at home, with my kids and I wasn't entirely pleased about it. I had loved being at home. It wasn't my *choice* initially, as I was laid off, but I loved it, all the same.

It wasn't entirely my *choice* to go back to work either. Mr. Man had been laid off and we were both scrambling to find employment. Which we both did. Within mere weeks of one another.

Making matters worse, I wasn't exactly warmly received by my coworkers and I felt awkward and unwanted...but I needed that job, whether I liked it or not.

When I was home, I had my kids and the PTO and all of the different organizations I had gotten involved in. I identified them as my "tribe".  I never had to sit alone at the table...anywhere I went, I had a spot.

At the office, I had no such spot. Everything was grey and lonely. People were sniping at one another and I got the sideways eyeball at least 4 or 5 times a day. And because I was now at the office during the day, the rest of my 'tribe" moved on, without me. They were still in the same circles, but I had become an outsider, peering in through the glass.

Not one to just sit back and wallow in a situation that I don't like, I set out to find something to fill the void that I was feeling. I tried doing the group fitness, yoga thing...but it didn't really come to me very naturally. I never really felt *relaxed*. The classes were at times that just didn't suit and I'd have to move mountains to make it work. Mostly, I just felt guilty.  

Guilty for leaving work a little early to get there.
Guilty for getting to the class almost late.
Guilty for not being home with my kids after so many hours away from home.
Guilty for not at least trying to hang around and socialize and make friends afterwards.

So I stopped going. Clearly the "zen crowd" wasn't my new tribe.


After a few months, I decided to get back into running. It was pretty simple really...I could go whenever  and wherever I wanted to. My kids had soccer practice several nights a week, and it was something I could do while I was there. I set whatever pace felt comfortable and was just pleased with myself for *doing* it. And *bonus*, I had a friend who was slogging through a C25K program with me...so we were a tribe...of 2.

That first 5K came and went, and my interest in running didn't wane. A gulf in ability had started to develop between my friend and I though, and we stopped running together much.

I stepped out on my own, and running became my own thing.

It started to fill that void...I started running early in the morning...when no one else was up. The pre-dawn roads of my small town became my own private playground.

And for a while, this was good.

Over time though, I started yearning to "find my people". I wanted people to talk to. People to bounce ideas and thoughts off of. People to get advice and understanding from. I started looking online, and discovered some great runners. I interacted with them...cheered them from afar...admired their accomplishments and sheepishly shared my own. The longer I "knew" them, the more about their real lives I got to know. Many of them had running friends. Running groups. Running clubs.

I was jealous.

I wanted someone to run with.

I started paying closer attention to the folks that lived near me, and discovered that there were some local-ish running clubs. And as it turned out, I knew some of the folks that were members! I started reading their newsletters and websites...and the more I did, the more I noticed that these weren't just runners...these were Runners. Real Runners. Fast Runners.

I was slow. And just starting out. I couldn't possibly ask them to deign to run with me, could I?

Self consciousness prevailed, and for a long time, I didn't ask. I'd nod appreciatively at their accomplishments...dismissively answer their questions about my own runs...and secretly wish that they would offer to run with me...they didn't. In retrospect, I realize that the ambivalence I was trying to pull off in regards to my running made me seem disinterested and cold...but that was then.

Fast forward a few years...(yes, I said years.) and I was still running. Mostly

alone.

With multiple marathons and half marathons under my belt, there was really no denying the fact that I was now a Runner. A Real Runner. I started meeting other folks who were just starting out. Folks that would tell me that they were inspired and intimidated by me. And I would remember being them, and would offer to run with them.

The answer was typically the same, every time..."I'm not ready to run with you..." or "I'd slow you down..." or "I can't run as far as you can..."

I'd always say "That's ok, we can run your pace, your distance..." All I really wanted was to cobble together my own little tribe...but it didn't typically work.

And so I kept running. By myself.

After a while, I focused more attention on coercing my husband and or children to run with me. It was always nice while it lasted...at least for me. They weren't nearly so...enthusiastic...about the experience.

About a year ago, my internet trail crossed with an old acquaintance who had also become a runner. A Runner. An avid Runner.

This ushered in a new age for me, as I finally had someone to talk to and share the obsession with. And because we were far apart, the differences in our abilities didn't matter. We cheered one another on from across the interwebs. We started having virtual running dates. We'd encourage one another when one of us wasn't feeling it and give one another a kick in the ass when it was needed..which was great. Sometimes, it is nice to someone other than yourself to hold you accountable to your goals. For me, it was a refreshing change of pace, from time to time.

Eventually, this gave me an idea...and so, The O'Dark Thirty Virtual Run Club was born, on Facebook. I started out just inviting everyone that I knew was a runner to any degree, on Facebook. And people actually accepted the invite! I was delighted at how many folks accepted the invite, and started posting on the regular. And then, some of them started sharing the group with some of their friends...and before I knew it, we had a fledgling running community.

This makes me happy. Very happy. Some of them live nearby one another. Sometimes they post runs together. I love this.

And I envy this.

Several of us have actually made plans now, solid, real, money backed plans to complete a Ragnar Relay together...people from the tribe we are building. This delights me...and has given me the gumption to start taking more risks about trying to interact with other runners.

Last night, I met up with a new (to me) group of runners, for a post-work 4 miler. A work friend of mine and I planned to meet up there and run together. Which, ultimately, is exactly what happened.

Just not right away.

When I first got there, there were about 20 runners milling about, decked out in blinky-flashy-glowing safety hats, vests and knuckle lights. Not a single familiar face in the crowd. I stood off to one end, silently surveying the scene...and considered bolting. Small groups were huddled in friendly conversation...I couldn't envision an "in".

Just as I was about to back away, my friend, The Flash, appeared. I'm fairly certain that he has never, in his whole life, met a stranger. He has an open and friendly nature and immediately strikes up conversation with anyone around.

No leaving now...

We continued to wait, as he talked to a few folks he already knew. While we were waiting, a 10 year old girl came over and commented on my bracelets. We had a brief conversation and then I turned to what I assume was her mother and introduced myself. Which, for me, was a really big step.

Before long, we took off, lighting up the night and the back streets of central PA. The Flash and I chatted idly for most of the time, so I didn't really interact much with anyone else...but I was *there*. I was *present*.

As we finished up the 4 miles, the group made ready to pour inside of the restaurant that we had used as our starting an stopping point. (It is a "Beer Runners" group...) I didn't stay...but someday, maybe just maybe, I will.

Slowly, timidly, cautiously I am finding that, while I may not have a tribe to call my own right now, what I do have...what I can build for myself is a life "pace group". We may not connect on many things...but when we are running, we are a community. It's terrifying and wonderful.