So, I rolled over around 9:00am on Sunday morning (before you call me a big fat slacker, I worked out this evening, okay!), and met a dear friend, Melanie, for brunch on Hargett Street in Raleigh. It was prime position for us to watch our Ironmen (and women!) compete in Raleigh’s inaugural Half Ironman Triathlon.
I’m no triathlete. But I have nothing but the utmost respect for them. So when we heard that a Half Ironman was coming to Raleigh, I was blown away. I mean, I didn’t even know what it entailed, but it sounded hard. So I did what every Masters-educated woman. I Wikipedia-ed it. Duh. (Seriously, tell me I’m not the only one who can waste hours on Wikipedia). So a Half Ironman Triathlon consists of a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride, and 13.1-mile run. And cool as it is, they picked my city to host it! I mean, Raleigh is up-and-coming. But it’s so cool to think that people were traveling from far and wide to my city to get their Ironman on.
If you can’t wrap your noodle around how incredible of an athletic feat that is, think about this. All my marathoners and half marathoners, close your eyes. Remember that relief you felt at the end of your first half marathon? Like “yay girl! I’m done!”. These folks swam. Weren’t done. Biked. Still weren’t done. And then went for a jaunty 13.1 miles through downtown Raleigh in blazing heat. Thatis an athlete. Here I am, feeling myself because I ran a rinky-dink little marathon, and these guys are killing it in four hours?
So anyhoo, after we finished brunch, we made our way over to the finisher’s chute. We saw a few of the guys finish, and they were cruising like it was a Sunday jog. Like they didn’t look stinky, sweaty, or stressed about finishing.
And then we saw her.
Laura Bennett, a 38-year-old woman from Colorado came down the chute. She was cruising, again, looking like her 13.1 mile run was an effortless jaunt. She smiled as Mel and I screamed variations on “You go, girl,” at the gazelle that was making her way down the chute. She was gorgeous. She was inspiring. And I’m in love.
I may never run an Ironman. I mean I’d like to, but who knows. But if nothing else, Laura Bennett, 38, inspired me to sport it UP and get my tail in gear. If she can kick that much butt on a blazing Sunday, what the heck am I capable of? Congrats girl. You totally blew me away.
I need to give Nike, the Nike Women’s Marathon, and the Half in DC some mad mad props. So, as we crossed the finish line on Pennsylvania Ave, some handsome young men in tuxedos (tuxedos!) handed us our finishers medals, which were those little Tiffany tags. We moved through a little further into a super efficient system for us to pick up our finisher’s tees. And the coolest part? All the vendors that had been crammed into that tiny, miserable expo the day before? Were set up on this big open park. Women were getting $10 Paul Mitchell haircuts, which was pretty brillz considering all of our hairs were jacked up from running around for 13 miles. Nuun was assisting us to slam some Nuun shots to re-hydrate and re-electrolyte. And the absolute best part was bareMinerals was set up out there. So I have this disgusting thing that happens where I’ve got salt that cakes on my face after I run. So this wonderful woman at the bareMinerals tent gave me two pouches of face wash, and lotion, and I was able to wash my face, moisturize, and continue looking as sexy as Beyonce as I continued to find friends who were completing the race. I’ve never ran a race that was so intentionally thought out, and once again, if you can snag a lottery spot in one of these races, I so encourage you to do so. They won’t disappoint!
I’ve been living in my car (my new car!) for like the past week. Not like literally, I still have a beautiful little apartment downtown, but I’ve been riding around like a nutjob for days and days. To the point where I actually thought listening to Rush Limbaugh might be an interesting change of pace. UGH WRONG GURL. First I headed home. Then to Winston to take care of some bidness. And finally, I made the 4-hour trek to Washington, DC, and began my weekend. We did a bunch of un-Nike-related things, some of which included eating my weight in delicious food, losing house-keys in a cab, and participating in a super cool Lupus Walk on Saturday morning.
This is one of my best friends, Scott. I stayed with him, and he showed me around beautiful DC. I’m lucky to have a friend like him.
As a side note, I’m completely, madly, deeply in love with Washington, DC. I live in Raleigh. I’ve had a rough relationship with Raleigh. Story time! I moved here for a guy (and for graduate school). The relationship ended disastrously, and here I was, sort of stuck in a city where I knew no one. So my solution was to take a job in Pennsylvania, attempt to transfer to Pitt to finish my graduate studies, and move on with my life. But my mom, whom I typically don’t listen to (do us kids ever listen?), encouraged me to stick it out. “You can’t run away from your problems. Everywhere I go, there I am. Do you know what that means?” Ugh. She was right. So I came back. Made a few more friends, and began to find my place here. I still have days where I’m not sure about the city, where I’m not sure if I fit it in. The loudness of New York never left me. I teach Zumba. I speak like Hilary Banks, but I wear my locs long and natural. I think I confuse people. So I’m just not sure. So you can imagine my heartbeat going a-flutter when I came to a city where the black girls look like me. Wear bright colors and long Senegalese twists. They ride bikes. They love dogs. Everyone runs. I love it!
This is the brunch spot we hit after the Lupus Walk. The food was incredible. I fear, if I ever moved to DC, I’d become 500 pounds.
So Saturday afternoon, we metroed and hoofed over to Georgetown, where packet pickup was held. The line? Let’s not talk about it. But it moved quickly and pretty smoothly. The expo, held in a tent in Georgetown, could have been super cool, but it was hot, and I don’t do well in small, hot, ill-ventilated tents with everyones breath just like, combining in the same space. I find that absolutely foul, and I think it could have been done better, and in a bigger space. But everything else? Cool as heck.
Nike erected this like, street-length billboard with all of our names on it. So 15,000 women’s names were plastered in Georgetown, and my name was one of them. Super cool to see. And it was doubly cool to see a bunch of women with a smile of their faces. Score 1 for Nike for making us feel special.
My name came riiiight at the end, so it was split in two pieces. But Cherisse (my guh-ment name) definitely ran!
Race day. I metroed down to Pennsylvania Avenue, where the start line was. Pre-race chatter makes me nervous, so I put my headphones in, and listened to Gustavo Lima sing me a “Balada” while women buzzed around me, scrambling to get into their pace groups. The way pace groups were done was pretty sweet too. We were identified by these colored bracelets which identified our pace, and getting into corrals was super smooth. I glided into my pace group, and hunkered down to start to run for a long time. My first bought of tears during the race? When the National Anthem was sung. I’m not a stupid emotional idiot either, I saw other women beginning to tear up. It was sung beautifully, and it was a lot of our first races since Boston. We felt…united? The race started. And I became emotional again when I realized the coolness, and the gravity of 15,000 women (and a few guys), running down the streets of the District, with the Capitol building as a backdrop. As we ran, Nike had organized cool bands. A go-go band in the tunnel. Marching bands. A Chinese New Year Themed parade. Beautiful, inspirational signs. A river. It was so beautiful that I marveled a number of times at how lucky I’d been to get into the lottery for this race. And I could not stop smiling.
Here’s where I screwed up, though. I’d wanted to do well in the race, even though I’d lied and told everyone I was just going to take this one nice and easy. I’m competitive by nature, and I’m not sure why I said that. But in my head, I wanted to break 2 hours. So I’d assumed that this race would be like a small-town race, just like how it was in Raleigh. But 15,000 women and 1,200 are totally different. And my plan to start at the back of my pace group and work my way up was a profoundly stupid one. After 3 slow miles, I realized that I’d have to do some work to make it to the finish line in under two hours. So I had to push. And push. And push some more to continue hitting under 9 minute miles to make it to that finish line. So I talked myself through about 10 super fast miles. I told myself I could eat Nutella. I told myself I could go to the medical tent and get hydrated. I told myself I could eat bread. I told myself that people were counting on me. And I did it. 1:59:57, with my fastest mile being a 7:36 around mile 12, when I saw a clock and got a little nervous that I wouldn’t make it. I’m sore as heck from running like I stole things.
My final verdict on the Nike Women’s Half Marathon? Worth it. A stellar race. My only complaint is that the expo was in a frighteningly small space. It was gross in there. But women. The weather. The scenery. The history of DC just existing all around us? Pure magic. So….
What’s our finishers gift?
GURRRRLL let me tell you.
That’s Tiffany babe. They gave us a Tiffany necklace. Handsome boys gave us a Tiffany necklace.
And are you wondering what 15,000 beautiful women look like?
I think by now, I’ve figured out, that though I work okay without the pressure of a race coming up, I do a little better when I have a race breathing down my neck.
I hadn’t planned to run the Run Raleigh Half Marathon, but a friend of mine decided she couldn’t run it, and generously allowed for me to take her place. And it’s a good thing, I still have the Nike Women’s Half in two weeks, and it kept me on track with a long run this weekend. And gosh, I needed that long run.
I have stress dreams. So I dreamt all night that I’d overslept the race. But, my mom’s been sick, and I dreamt that she, on the way to the race, took my hand, and jogged with me to the start line. (One day Mommy, you’re totally gonna do it!)
I ate the breakfast of champs, Nutella on toast with a Gatorade Primer, Rock Taped my hips, and watched Sean T’s hip-hop abs infomercial for a while. (I love for a good infomercial).
I put on my compression pro-tight (rocked my world), and my Brooks mesh tank (doubly rocked my world), and set off for the start line, which was about a mile from my house.
I mean, on the real, how cute is the back of that top?
Okay, onto the race review.
Run Raleigh Half Marathon 2013:
I give the race an A- overall. Lemme break it down.
Packet pickup was seamless. Packet pickup was at Capital Run/Walk, a local running store. I’m more of a Fleet Feet Raleigh girl 😉 but I’d be lying if I said the store wasn’t beautiful, and the volunteers weren’t friendly as could be.
The race was extremely well organized. I walked to the site, and was easily able to find the start, find the pacers, find out where I was supposed to be, and all that good stuff. For folks that are down with Port-a-Potty, there were like a million lined up to start. Heads up: if you’re driving to the race? You share those parking lots with a Starbucks, a Rite-Aid, and a Harris Teeter. What I’m saying is, these businesses don’t love it when you park in their lots, but you’re not shopping. If you’re driving, park respectfully, or have someone drop you off at the start line.
The race started on time. You don’t know how important that is.
The volunteers. They were the rock stars of the entire operation. The volunteers were well-trained, friendly, smiling, and handled the water stops with ease. They were wonderful. If any of the volunteers are reading this? Seriously, thank you. You guys rocked.
The course. Okay, here’s where the minus part comes in. The course was pretty. We had home-court advantage, so the hills weren’t a surprise. We used Greenway (which was so cool!), and the miles just flew by. Here’s the minus. There is the rudest hill at 12.1 miles that will have you praying for salvation. I ran with the 2 hour pacer, and nearly lost him at that hill. And my glutes are talking today, they didn’t like that hill, either.
Overall? If you’re looking for a pretty spring race to do? Do this one? Beware of that hill at 12 miles, but other than that, you’re in for a really really enjoyable 13.1 mile ride! On a more personal note, I’m proud of how consistently I was able to maintain a 2-hour pace, despite a pretty hilly course. I certainly need to work a little harder, I’d like to hit below 2:00 now, but I’m proud of my work yesterday.
This question was actually texted to me by a good friend, Taylor Doe. I friggin love technology
Taylor is a schoolteacher from Colorado. We met during an audition for our college a cappella audition (yes, I sang a cappella, and I’m damn proud of it), and we became fast friends. Taylor just completed her first half marathon, the Disney Princess Half, in February, and though she’s a devout worshiper of the Church of the Boston Red Sox, we’ve been able to put our differences aside and continue in harmony.
Taylor Doe
So onto the question!
I’d be lying to you if I told you I’ve completely mastered the art of the water stop. (For those of you new to racing, the water stop is a table, usually staffed by race or community volunteers, who hold out dixie cups of water, and sometimes Gatorade, for runners of a race. The more miles? The more stops!) A few factors make the water stop difficult. One, you never are quite sure what side of the road the stop is going to be on. Once you figure it out, there isn’t a blinker tattooed on your butt, telling the runners behind you you’re switching lanes, so it can be kind of a cluster moving over without tripping up someone behind you. Two, once you get there, a little girl is handing you this cup of water that you’re supposed to drink while jogging? And then you try to politely litter while a disgruntled Boy Scout glares at you from behind his ice scraper that’s doubling as a dixie wax cup scraper by tossing it gently onto the nearest sidewalk. It’s tricky!
So here’s what I figured out. When you’re racing and you’re trying to get water at a water stop:
Try and look ahead to see where the stop is. The further out you have it figured out, the smarter you can be about getting over to the table. Then, reach your hand out and firmly grab the water. That sounds ridiculous, but you totally have to commit. If you don’t you may end up spilling a cup of water all over a little girl in 50-degree beach-windy weather. Like I did. 😦 If the cup is too full for you to take a shot, dump a little out on the ground, slightly crumple the cup, and toss it back like a shot. Commit to it, or you’ll choke. If you need more? Grab another cup, and do the same. But there is nothing more miserable than trying to toss back a cup of too-full water or Gatorade.
My last bit of advice? Turn your shocks on while you’re cruising the water stop. What I mean? This isn’t the time to start galloping about like a great big horse. Smooth your jog down, and commit to that cup!
First, I haven’t heard from my friend, Kyle from the New York Post. Kyle, darling, if you’re reading, I’d love to hear from you! Seriously, let’s talk.
Nextly (that a word?!), onto our question! I promise you I’m not being silly, and I’m not being condescending, but I’ve been getting this question a whole lot.
So I’m sure you’ve seen these little dooders cropping up on cars. Do you feel a little confused when you see them? Or the 5k? The 26.2? There’s a whole language you adopt when you start racing, and I’m here to translate it for you. I’m extremely multilingual.
Marathon: 26.2 miles – a marathon isn’t an arbitrary term for running around without a purpose. When someone says they’re running a marathon, generally, they’re running a 26.2 mile course. This accounts for those 26.2 stickers and magnets you see on cars.
Half-marathon: 13.1 miles
10K : 6.2 miles
8k: 4.97 miles
5K: 3.1 miles
So your friend tells you they’re running any of these? Or you see one of these stickers on a car? Here’s your cheat sheet!
I watch Morning Express with Robin Meade on HLN each morning as I get ready for work. HLN is CNN’s sensational sister network, and I think I got attached to it when I was like 20, and I had to get up super early to drive out to my internship that was an hour away when I was still attending Elon. At any rate, I still watch each morning and was part intrigued, and mostly horrified at the story I heard last week.
The half: So the lovely lady pictured above is Laura Smith. After training since last fall with both a trainer and a nutritionist, and peeling 47 pounds off of her 6’3″ frame, on Sunday, January 20th, Laura embarked on her first half marathon, the Arizona Rock-n-Roll Half Marathon. She ran for the American Cancer Society, and was covered in ACS ribbons. “I actually had to stop by the med tent after the first three miles because I had horrible shin splints. The doctor took one look at me and said, ‘there’s no way you’re gonna finish if you’re hurting this bad three miles in’. And I was like, I can’t stop. You could probably see in the pictures I was covered in ribbons. And each ribbon had the name of a person who’d died or who’d been affected by cancer. So I shoved some ice packs in my compression tights. It took me a little longer than I’d hoped,” she chirped in a cheery voice. And for a first half, you’d have to admit, she didn’t do too shabby!
The massage: Laura purchased a Groupon and scheduled a massage at the Natural Healing Center, in Aurora, close to where she lives in Denver, knowing she’d be in dire need following the half. This is where the story just gets absolutely horrifying. “We were in the room and I thought she [Dr. Wells] was gonna take me back and say, ‘take off your clothes and lay down, I’ll be right back’. And we were just standing there and staring at the table. And I thought, ‘Oh my God, am I gonna be too tall for the table?’ And she [Dr. Wells] just goes ‘I’m sorry you’re too fat and I’m afraid you’re going to break the table’.” (At this point in the interview, I was in absolute disbelief). Laura went on to say that “Dr.” Wells told her not to worry, that she could call Groupon and get her money back. And Laura was left to scoop her Groupon up, and leave the facility with no massage.
The press: So how did this get to HLN? Laura’d tagged her visit with Wells at the Natural Healing Center on Facebook, and said she was excited to go, still high off her success with her completed half marathon. When she left (without the massage), she’d also written it up on Facebook. Some friends saw, and next thing she knew, the center had taken it’s Facebook page down. And that’s when she said the press came calling. “Fox News got ahold of it. And if they’d [the massage establishment] called, I may not have spoken. And now, if they were to call today? It’s the principle of discrimination.” Kinda cool to see what the power of social media can do, right? She got my attention, and I’m not the only one. She’s been featured on CNN, HLN, ABC, Fox News, and Inside Edition. And the best part? The owner of the business claims she never called Smith fat. She claims she called her “large”. Cue the side eyes. “I know what she said,” Laura said matter-of-factly.
Why is this sort of discrimination still acceptable? So Penny Wells isn’t really returning phone calls, and has deleted the center’s Facebook page, and largely avoided the firestorm that is inevitably brewing. However, in the brief statement that she did make in response to Laura’s claims, she (in addition to essentially calling Laura a liar), also stated that she was concerned because a 165-pound man had broken a table earlier. Um. What the frig is wrong with your massage tables if they can’t hold normal amounts of weight?
That aside, why did the owner feel that it was in any way acceptable to turn away a customer (whose money was just as green as anyone elses’) by making a rude statement about her weight, especially in this case where she essentially discredited all the wonderful work Smith had just done in losing 47 pounds, running a half marathon through some serious shin pain, and signing up for three more halves. It makes no sense. And just because the owner was discriminating on the basis of Laura’s weight, doesn’t make it any less offensive than if she’d told her, “I’m sorry, we don’t serve women here. But if you call groupon, I’m sure they’ll be willing to give your money back!”
So I’d like to take this opportunity to commend Laura for not being silent about what happened to her. It was discrimination, plain as day, and it wasn’t acceptable. When I told her how blown away I was at how much weight she’d already lost, she responded, “Well…47lbs doesn’t seem like much when you’re 6’3″. I still have a long way to go.” Well, whether that’s true or not, you keep up the good work, doll! You’re gorgeous, and you’re doing a great thing by responding so openly and positively to everyone who’s reaching out to you! Laura will be in Raleigh next October, so she and I will be raising a glass to her awesome progress.
1. First off, congratulations are in order! I overshot my goal of 100 miles in this period by three miles today on my long run! Yay! I’m proud of myself!
2. Second, I bandited part of my first race today. I’m not proud of this by any means – it was a total accident.
For those of you who don’t know, to bandit a race means to run it without registering and paying for it. Not cool by any stretch of the imagination. Not only are you stealing from the race and race organizer, it’s not safe. Had I fallen and, worst case, died, I would have made some significant trouble for that poor race organizer.
Let me explain myself. I was finishing up the last leg of my long run today (12 miles, phew!) and I sort of noticed a cop standing in the middle of the traffic circle on Hillsborough (the main drag through North Carolina State University’s campus). I thought nothing of it until I realized I was caught up in the middle of a large group of folks wearing race bibs. So I tagged along for about a mile until I could safely dash across the course toward my home. Totally an accident. And not something I’ll make a practice of.
3. The term, ‘chub rub’ is rude and a complete misnomer. You don’t have to be overweight, or even chubby, to suffer with this serious condition.
For those of you unaware, ‘chub rub’ is the colloquial term that applies to the awful chafing that happens between your thighs when you combine moisture (like sweat), and repetitive movement. Contrary to what this term may suggest, you do not have to be chubby in the least bit to experience the awful pain and swelling that ‘chub rub’ brings. (Can we all agree to call it chafing from now on?) My first half marathon, I wore my favorite Norts (Nike + shorts = the chosen uniform of college girls = Norts) and couldn’t walk or shower without some significant pain once the adrenaline of finishing wore off.
So how to combat this earth-shattering condition? The answer isn’t to stop running, it’s Aquaphor or something called Body Glide!Slather either one of those babies between your thighs or anywhere where you’re prone to chafing (under the band of your sports bra, near your watch, on the back of your heel), and you should eliminate the issue. Aquaphor gets my vote, because you don’t have to reapply as often, and it doubles as a sweet lip gloss.
PS, isn’t running darn glamorous? This is photo evidence of me (not very chubby) having to apply Aquaphor before my Sunday morning run date. Beauty fades, but my class is forever!
If you haven’t figured out what’s going on, in the midst of launching Running for Haiti, I got some good news today. I was selected to run the Nike Women’s Half Marathon on April 28th, 2013! How cool right?! I get to train for ANOTHER cool cause (this race benefits the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society), while I run for Haiti. I could not be more pumped!
Overactive Blogger 