Tag Archives: Running

Today was the Helping Hands 5k in Elgin, and it was a beautiful morning. After far too much hatefully hot weather, this morning it was actually chilly! I grabbed a hoodie on my way out the door, though I ended up leaving it in the car.

The race was at the Bowes Creek Country Club on Elgin’s far west side. I had never been out there and was pleasantly surprised by how pretty it was.

Earlier in the week, when I picked up my packet, I had asked about the course, but no one seemed to have a map or know what it was like. After the surprise giant hill at the Founders Day race last month, I was a bit wary but reminded myself I’ve been running lots of hills lately and it shouldn’t matter.

As we got closer to race time, the director announced that the start line was a piece of tape near the crest of a hill in the adjacent brand-new subdivision. We strolled up the hill and milled around, making small talk with other runners. Then someone announced that the race actually started off by going down the hill we had just climbed. “Whew!” I said. “Glad we don’t have to climb this hill!”

Famous last words.

When the race director made his pre-race announcements, he smiled and said, “Those of you who were here last year know what a challenging course this is, but if you’re new this year, well, it’s very scenic!” People nearby chuckled and nodded in agreement. “It’s up and down and up and up and down and up again!” quipped one guy.

The gun went off, and the crowd bounded down the first big hill. I had started nearish the front this time, determined not to get trapped in traffic that could cost me the sub-30 time I was determined to get. I think I started off too fast and nearly lost my legs under me, but that was remedied as soon as we rounded the curve to the first of many uphills.

The first mile passed by quickly. We were running through the partially-completed subdivision, where the homes are brand new or still under construction, with few residents so far. One lady stood in her bathrobe at the end of her driveway, newspaper tucked under her arm, clapping as we passed.

“8:36…8:37…8:38…” a girl with a stopwatch called as we passed the one mile mark. Wha??? I thought. No way! I’ve NEVER run a mile that quickly. But I was thrilled, and also happy that there were people calling times at the mile markers. (One of my downfalls at Founders Day was that I had no sense of time – no one was calling out splits, and I hadn’t worn my watch, so I thought I was way behind the pace. I had my watch on this morning but never looked at it.)

Then we looped around a girl in a cul-de-sac wearing what appeared to be a viking helmut from the Warrior Dash, along with a pink feather boa. “Love your outfit!” I called with a smile. I hope to do that race next year.

Soon we were out of the subdivision and onto the golf course. We looped up and down hills, then back up the other side, running on the walking paths that ring the course and the golf cart paths between holes. At one point, though, we were suddenly on the open prairie and the path switched to a very narrow mix of dirt and loose gravel, reminiscent of the track at Grolich Park that I often run when rain is threatening.  Like Grolich, it was a slow incline. It was so quiet through there, and beautiful as the sun rose higher in the sky, surrounded by coneflowers and black-eyed susans.

Too quickly, though, we were back on a cart path, with a giant hill ahead. Aha, I thought, here’s the beast I will slay! Corny, but it’s what popped into my head as I tucked in my chin and powered up it. It felt really good to pass a couple people who had slowed to a walk.

I made it to the top, rounded a small downhill curve… and found another hill! This one wasn’t nearly as bad, and I could see the finish line another quarter mile down the path. But my legs just wouldn’t do it, and I walked the last few steps up the hill before taking off and charging towards the end. My friend (who finished with his own incredible new PR) doubled back and cheered me in.

I finished with a 28:36! Not bad at all, especially given the terrain. I was thrilled, and even more thrilled that I had promised myself a massage if I beat 29 minutes.

The post-race party was good, with the usual bagels, bananas, and beer, plus oranges that I squeezed into my beer. Results took awhile, but it was a gorgeous morning and I didn’t really mind sitting out in the sunshine, beer in hand, happy about my time.

Overall, it was a great race. Though small – about 110 ran the 5k, and there were another couple dozen doing a 2 mile walk – it was very well organized and everything appeared to go smoothly. I loved that there were lots of volunteers around the course, calling out splits, handing out water, and directing traffic. For the most part, they were energetic and enthusiastic, which makes a huge difference.

Next Friday, I plan to run the Lake in the Hills Summer Sunset 5k. The course is supposedly “fast and flat,” and I can’t wait! The forecast right now calls for a high of 75 and sunny, so it should be a nice cool evening to run.

Anyone else up for it? The race starts at 7 PM, and the goody bag includes admission and food tickets for the adjacent festival.

I ran 28.78 miles in July.

I haven’t been a “runner” very long. In fact, I was never an athlete of any sort. The closest I came was trying out for my junior high basketball team. During tryouts, I tripped over the cones and fell during a drill. That was the end of my athletic aspirations.

As part of a better living initiative last year, I decided to try running. So in the hottest, most miserably humid part of July 2009, I gave it a whirl. I laced up my cross training shoes and went outside after a half-hearted stretching routine. I ran really really hard – feet slamming into the pavement, the shock reverberating through my knees – for as long as I could around the block, then came home, exhausted, drained and hurting.

I had been gone 12 minutes. That’s it. 12 stinking minutes, and I felt like I was going to die. The next three or four days, my legs ached in a way I had never experienced before. It wasn’t just the muscles, but the very bones and joints. I felt old and achy, hobbling up and down stairs, propping up my legs whenever I sat down.

I then repeated the drill twice more over the coming weeks, and gave up. This running thing obviously wasn’t for me. I shifted into a strength training program (which I love) and abandoned running.

But I kept thinking about it. During my weekly winter walk with a friend around the Centre’s indoor track, I started adding short sprints – a half lap here, a full lap there – to do a bit of interval training.

Then I stumbled on the Couch to 5k program. The premise was interesting: this program would take you from the couch (ie, a non-runner) to running a full 5k in just two months. It was too cold/icy/snowy to consider starting it outside in January (not to mention dark outside), and I didn’t want to rely on driving over to the Centre thrice a week. So I waited until March, hearing encouragement from others who had done the program.

I followed the guidelines to the letter, tracking my progress. My knees ached for the first few weeks, until I got fitted for “real” running shoes. And I decided to do the Elgin Fox Trot 5k on Memorial Day – a good goal that kept me on track with my training.

And now I just did 28 miles in one of the hottest Julys in memory, including my first 5 mile run last week.

I volunteered yesterday morning at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon. It was a very early day (out the door at 4:30 AM on a Sunday? Sacre bleu!) but watching 18,000+ runners come streaming through the water station at mile 10 was incredibly inspiring. From the front runners – sailing along at a pace I couldn’t maintain a block, let alone 13.1 miles – to the walkers grimacing their way to the end, we cheered them all on, handing out water and screaming encouragement. I found myself itching to be out there with them. Maybe not the full distance, but I could have run the last 3 miles.

I still don’t particularly enjoy the act of running. My mind wanders and gets bored, so I start counting cars of a particular color or housecats in windows or foreclosed homes on a given block. I start off strong and usually finish pretty well, but in the middle, when my thoughts start to muddle together and I start processing the things that have been knocking around in my head, I wonder why exactly I’m out there. It hurts, and it’s hard to breathe when the pollen counts and humidity are high. But then I finish, and feel great, and I remember why.

And I’m glad I gave running a second chance.

I started running this spring. I had never been a runner before, but I went through the Couch-to-5k program and really enjoyed it. I ran my very first 5k (the Elgin Fox Trot) on Memorial Day and scored a 30:32 – far faster than any previous training run. I was thrilled, but at the same time, kicked myself since I was so close to breaking 30 minutes. I had gone into the race hoping to finish, but as it got closer, I started thinking about breaking 35 minutes, and settled on 33 minutes as my stretch goal.

Since then, I’ve been itching to run another race to break the 30 minute mark. I’m still running about 3 days a week (though the recent heat has kept me indoors more lately), typically about 4-4.5 miles.

I saw the Algonquin Founders’ Days 5k advertised mid-week. Yes, it would mean an early Sunday morning, but Algonquin’s not terribly far away. I actually considered biking up the Fox River Trail to the race (about 12 miles), running, and then biking home but decided that may be counterproductive if I wanted a good time.

Late Saturday, I made up my mind that I was indeed going to run the Sunday morning 5k. By that point, I was eating dinner and didn’t think about skipping that second glass of wine.

Sunday morning, I woke up nervous. Finally, after a week of blistering heat and Gulf-like humidity (and hence NO running), it was sunny, breezy and far less humid. I ate a frozen banana and a fig bar, and sipped my way through a jug of water. I drove up to Algonquin Middle School and registered. I vaguely knew that the course would run through the residential neighborhood bordering the school, then onto the Prairie Path (for the turnaround), and then back into the neighborhood.

It was quite a different set up than the Fox Trot. For one, there were 118 5k runners at Founders’ Days versus 810 in Elgin. Rather than timing loops on the shoes, there was one big clock, and we all officially started at once.

But the biggest difference was the silence. Along the Fox Trot course, nearly every block was lined with spectators, cheering and waving signs. At each mile marker, there were people with stopwatches shouting out times. Along the Founders’ Day course, it was eerily, Sunday morning quiet. There were a few sparse spectators, and at each turn there was a solemn-faced volunteer with a sign pointing the way. There were water stations – which I skipped, since I didn’t want to break my pace and I didn’t really need it – but even they were pretty quiet. And when we got to the Prairie Path, it was even quieter – just birds chirping, feet hitting the ground – oh, and bikers zipping by shouting, “On your left!” (The Path portion of the race also included people walking dogs.)

By the time I got off the path, I felt very drained, and there weren’t many other people around. Then The Hill started. At the start line, I had asked a couple other runners about the course. “Four hills,” one woman said, “But I don’t think they’re too bad.” The first three hills weren’t bad – relatively quick bumps. But this fourth hill comprised at least half a mile, right at the end of the race. It might have been longer than that. The worst part was you couldn’t see the top – it curved around, seemingly into the clouds. I finally succumbed and walked a block, confident that I was so slow that I was likely running a 34 or 35 minute pace. I shuffled a block, then walked another block (still going uphill). Nearly at the top of the hill, I started shuffling again, then rounded the corner and saw the finish line – and the clock reading 29:03. I took off as fast as my tired legs could carry me, racing to beat the 30 minute mark.

I ended up with a 30:12. Drat. If only I hadn’t walked those two blocks.

So close!

Even more frustrating, a woman who passed me as I was walking finished third in my division and got a medal. I ended up fourth (of 9) in my division, 75th of 118 overall.

So now I’m looking for another race – and this time I won’t dare walk even a few steps. Plus, I may do a bit of reconnaissance ahead of time so I know what surprises the course holds.

Any suggestions for a (preferably flat) 5k in the next few weeks?