The Marathon

After five months of training I couldn't believe the marathon was actually here! I was incredibly excited and nervous at the same time. I felt as ready as I'd ever be and was set to go for it.

My friend Cathy, who lives on Staten Island, generously allowed me to spend the night on the island. This allowed me to get up at six o'clock instead of three. As a lover of sleep and being cozy in bed, I owe Cathy big time. She was also able to drop me off right near the start village. Score!

As I joined up with my team I was greeted by a rousing, "Mary!", very reminiscent of Cheers. I then received hugs from fellow teammates, it made me feel welcome. While waiting for our respective waves to start lining up, we hung out and shared supplies--making sure everyone was set. As folks left for their waves we all offered words of encouragement and hugs. 

Before my wave opened I went to do a last minute porta potty run with a team mate, Toni. While on line there was two very loud noises which caused me to jump. Toni explained that the noise was just the cannon going off to signify the start of wave one. I knew they set off a cannon at the start, but I didn't realize they did it before the start of every wave, good to know! Now I won't look like an idiot when it goes off for my wave. Whoo hoo!

The opening chords of New York, New York by Sinatra  come over the loudspeaker as I began to run on the Verrazano Bridge. It was very emotional and I began to tear-up (this would become a trend throughout the day).  The view of the city was beautiful from the upper roadway. 

The spectators were AMAZING! Some were running into CVS/Duane Reade stores and coming out with water and paper towels that they were handing out all over the place. Some folks were also giving out candy or pretzels. They never stopped cheering: for friends, family and even complete strangers. A lot of runners (including team Alz) run with their names on their shirts/singlets. When a spectator sees a name they call it out and cheer you on. I think I flew through parts of Brooklyn and First Avenue because of this. However, every now and then it would get to be a bit much, so I would move more to the center of the course, where it was harder to see my name. When I needed a boost I would move to the outside. Someone even blessed me as I went by.

I was very proud of how I navigated the first few fluid stops along the course. I was able to grab water or Gatorade and drink without having to stop or break stride. One would think I was a veteran at this stuff. I pinched the top of the cup and took small sips, as directed by Coach Brian and for the most part it worked. However, there were a few instances of where I was able to not only miss my mouth, but get the beverage up my nose instead. I think I have found a new power source! Move over gels and GU.

As usual I had to pick someone to beat for the race. This time I chose a woman in a pink dress with small black polka dots who was running in flip flops. Sorry lady, I just can’t let you get ahead of me. I was happy when I passed her. After the race I saw a picture of her and sometime around mile 18 she had switched the flip flops to her hands and she was running barefoot. Somethings I just don't understand. 

After wiping my nose for a third time on my shirt (I tried to have one sleeve for wiping sweat off my face and the other sleeve for snot (hey, you do what you have to do) ) a light bulb went off and I realized why some of the spectators were handing out tissues and paper towels. Soon after, these folks became my good friends and I would hunt for them along the route. 

At mile 18, I was apparently struck blind for a short time. The Alzheimer’s Association had a fan zone located at 110th and First Avenue and Scott was going to be there around two o'clock to hand me a snack. The association was also going to be taking photos as we ran by. When I approached, I noticed the camera right away and struck a pose! However, even though I looked directly right at Scott, who was holding out my food, I didn't see him and I just ran passed him. Whoops! Thank goodness he loves me.

My teammate Gene had mentioned to me once during a practice that there are porta potties under the 59th Street bridge on First Avenue and there is usually no line. As fate would have it, I needed to test out this theory. It was on the weird side to hear folks cheering as I was indisposed. I had to laugh though when someone started chanting "Go Mary Go!" It had to be for another Mary, but I was laughing and that was keeping me from performing. Do'h! 

At one point I decided to use the porta potty like a phone booth a la Superman. I was wearing a long sleeve base layer under my team singlet. That was fine for when we started, but now it was way too hot. I decided to take it off and run the rest of the race in the singlet. When I came out I was like Super runner!! It did make a difference running without that layer, the only drawback is I tossed a shirt I love. I told Scott, it will definitely need to be replaced. 

For the last 400m or so I couldn't feel my legs anymore, however I was sprinting and moving forward, so I took it to me all was good, the cheers from the crowds drove me on to the finish line. I couldn't believe it was so close! In an homage to Coach Brian, I decided that I wanted to do something special as I crossed the line. As soon as I hit the time strip, I jumped in the air while doing a fist pump. Of course, I did it right in front of the camera man as well! Now I just need to find a copy of the photo. I keep checking, but I haven't seen it posted yet. 

My first thought when I crossed the line was, "Where's my medal?". That is until one of the volunteers wrapped a heat blanket around my shoulders and put it in place with a piece of tape. Suddenly, I was in a cocoon of warmth, ahhh. I began to move forward in the queue of runners, then I noticed volunteers giving out medals and I was like, "Oh yeah, we get medals for this." As I continued along I was given a post-race poncho, which I am in love with! It is fleece lined! I'm going to use this while watching tv and drinking wine! 

Walking down Central Park West with all the other runners, I was struck by how much we all looked like the Walking Dead. The ponchos don't have arm holes and with folks slowly, stumbling around it appeared that the zombies had taken over. Next to me, a gentleman was filming the scene on his phone, so I made a comment about the overall look. He replied that all that was missing was us dragging our feet and gnashing our teeth. I mentioned that he and I could start it and see how many others join in. He laughed along with me. 

Walking into Steelcase for the after party hosted by the association was wonderful. I took the elevator up to the seventh floor and was greeted by several team mates congratulating and hugging me. I turned around and there was my husband coming down the stairs to give me a hug and a kiss. My teammate Derek was also coming down the stairs and told me to stay there because he wanted to hug me. Aww!!

When I appeared in the main room (after going up a flight of stairs) it was like Cheers all over again! Folks were coming up and congratulating me, hugging and asking questions. You could definitely feel the love (or it could be the adrenaline), but let’s call it love. Later, when Scott and I were leaving, he was trying to help me down the stairs (my knees were very stiff), however he was doing it by holding my elbow which really made me think of an old lady. So I pulled my arm away and told him I would get down on my own. I may have gray hair (hidden most of the time by Clariol), but I’m not old yet!

A day or two after the marathon I received an email with a link to photos of me from the race. In most, I look damn good! It looks like I really know what I'm doing. You could almost say I appear to be a true runner. Go me! Since this is my first marathon and I don't look like a crazy person, I may decided to purchase some. Time to check the running budget! (Whoever thought I would have money earmarked for running? Definitely not me). I think I owe Coach Ali and Coach Brian for the good photos, since they gently guided (aka made fun of) us into as close to perfect form as possible. 

Dead Last and Damn Proud

On Saturday, October 10, I went on a twenty mile run with about forty-nine folks from the Alzheimer's team and November Project. I came in last and in some cases I'm glad I did! Now don't get me wrong, this was not my goal when I started out and yes there is still a part of me that is dealing with the disappointment of this run. However, the only bad run is one you don't learn from.

My goal for the day was to complete the twenty miles at a pace of ten minutes per mile. For the about the first six miles I was on target and things were going fine. I was tired yes, I hadn't slept well the night before, but the run was going okay and then I hit the bridge. Once I started across the Williamsburg Bridge my IT band in my left knee started to bother me. I slowed my pace a bit to hopefully ease the ache. I figured once I was back on flat ground I could go back to the faster pace. When I got to the end of the bridge, Cindy was waiting for me. I apologized for slowing down and explained that my band was irritating me. She asked if I wanted to stop and I said no I want to keep going.

The only other time I have had this kind of pain in my knee was during the Grete half marathon. During that race it flared up around mile six. However, at the time I figured it was because I started out too fast and the course was very hilly. I was able to push through, again by slowing my pace, and finish with a new PR to boot! Go me! Afterwards and for the next couple of days I foam rolled, stretched and iced. By practice on Tuesday night I didn't even feel it.

While crossing the 59 Street Bridge I did a bit of a run/walk combo. The inclines were really bugging my IT band and I wanted to finish the twenty miles without injury, so in certain areas I had planned on taking it easy. Going up First Ave was tough in places when I would hit all the traffic lights. At the fifteen mile water station I thought about going back down to 90th and into the park. However, I figured I was so close I should keep going. I made it up to 124, however while going from First to Fifth Avenue I began to think maybe this was a mistake.

I figured if I could just make it to the park I could cut across and head back to the NYRR offices. So I pushed on. While on Fifth Avenue my knee was really bad, so I decided to walk for a couple of blocks, which turned into more than I meant it when I felt a burning pain when I bent my knee. I didn't want to do anything stupid, so I continued walking. After texting with Brian and Ali, I ended up walking a little past mile eighteen and catching a subway home.

I hate quitting and not finishing what I start, but I also agreed with Ali and Brian that it would be worse not to finish on race day and I should stop before seriously injuring myself. I also wanted to finish a twenty mile for my own piece of mind, but I do realize that just because I didn't finish doesn't mean it will be a reflection on race day. I had other training runs that were great! I just need to focus on those.

I think what happened was too many miles and too many hard workouts in one week.
Sunday--Grete Half Marathon plus three miles and 60 jumping jacks (16.1 miles)
Monday--rest
Tuesday--training in the park (5 miles)
Wednesday--TBTA workout
Thursday--training in the park (6 miles)
Friday--rest
Saturday--team run (18 miles)

That's a grand total of 45.1 miles, which is the most I have ever done in one week. Other than the three miles after the Grete all the miles and workout were at a hard pace. I don't think I gave my IT bands proper time to relax after the half. Now, I need to make sure I give them the proper time to recover, because this will NOT happen during the marathon. However, I will need to bug Ali and Brian to see what types of workouts I should be doing. I want to keep going and I know I need to be working out, but I want to do it carefully, so I don't so too much too soon again.

I have been foam rolling, icing, massaging and what not like crazy. I want to fix this as soon as possible. I think it might be working, Ali had mentioned at one point that to really get it all out I need to create bruises all along the band. Well, that is partially taken care of. I have bruises on both thighs from all the work I have been doing.

I may have come in last on this one, but I am kind of proud of that fact. I made it to 18 miles in pain and wanting to cry and only stopped after both coaches convinced me to stop. Some folks would have stopped long before I did. So I think I should get a point for that one. I also got to see what it is like to do a long run in pain, definitely not fun, however good training. You can do everything in your power to make sure you are starting the marathon on the best foot possible, however there are some things you can't control on race day and pain or an injury flaring up is one of those things. Now I know what it is like and I can learn from that experience.

I can also say I know what it is like to come in last and that is very humbling. I will never make fun of any runner again. You never know what hardship they may be experiencing but yet they continue on, not for the glory of the gold medal, but for their own personal victory. They should be commended.

Almost three months into marathon training and I have made a few observations. First, naps are my new best friends! I've discovered I'm more tired now than I ever remember being. Sometime even after getting eight hours of sleep I wake up and I'm still feeling a bit tired. At night I'm out like a light. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm gone. However, because of increased fluid intake, to stay hydrated, of course, means an occasional evening/very early morning trip to the bathroom. I've gotten very good at navigating in the dark without my glasses!

In order to meet the team for a weekend training run in Manhattan, this Brooklynite needs to awaken sometime between 4:30 am and 5:30 am (depending on the meeting time). On some occasions, since it is dark and very quiet, I feel like I'm the only person around for miles. In a way it is kind of cool. It gives me a chance to test out my Ninja skills as I try to get dressed and have breakfast--all without waking my husband. I've gotten pretty good at it, however I did mess up the other weekend when I forgot to turn off my second alarm. Oh well! Perhaps Scott has always wanted to see what 5:40 looks like on a Sunday! It's a good chance to catch up on the farm report on tv!

After about two pm on the day of the weekend run I'm ready for my nap.It reminds me of nursery school. I'll take my blankie and lie down for about an hour or so. At first I kind of felt bad about needing a nap. In a way I felt like a wasn't a real runner if I need to sleep after the run. I felt like I should just power through and get a bunch of other things done. However, I am now over this feeling and look forward to and embrace my naps. I have even found that after sleeping for an hour to an hour and a half, I feel recharged and can take on the rest of the day. Now I have no trouble imitating a feline!

I have also discovered an increased appetite. Upon occasion I have begun to adopt the Hobbit method of dieting: Breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, lunch and the list goes on and on. However, I must be burning off whatever I eat, because I've become more tone and have lost weight. (You mean there is supposed to be separation between your butt and the back of your thigh?! Who knew!) I try to keep my food choices on the healthy side and not let this be carte blanche (look at me using a French experssion. Of course it is also misspelled, but hey can't have it all!) to just eat whatever I wish. But every now and then that Pasta Carbonara or cheescake just can't be ignored!

Another revelation is I'm sore! A few aches and pains have begun to crop up. For example, one night while doing mile repeats my IT Band decided to say hello. I was not happy about this performance. I have never had trouble with this part of my body before and I wanted to stop it before it got any worse. Coach Ali explained what was going on and she showed me some stretches and whatnot that I can do to strengthen it, so it will hurt less. One of the tings she mentioned was using a foam roller on the area after every run. She also mentioned a procedure she could do on the area, with some implement that sounded like a medieval torture device. No thank you on that one! Gene, a friend and teammate, who overheard this conversation looked at me and said, "For the love of God Mary, just get the foam roller." My roller and I are now very happy together. We have a standing (lying down actually) date after each run.

In 2007, I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis and after doing the PT, anti-inflammatory, getting inserts, and resting all was fine. I haven't had any problems since. Well, that was the case....until...(insert Law & Order music) recently. a couple of weeks ago I began to feel a slight pulling sensation in my right arch. It was back. I started doing the stretches and massages I learned from the first time around. I also began to roll my bare foot over a frozen water bottle which helped greatly. I even bugged Coach Ali to see if there was anything else I could do and she gave me a suggestion or two which I quickly added.

I also took a really good look at my running shoes and realized that they were at the end of their life cycle. They had a long and adventurous life, but it was definitely time for new ones. I buy two pairs at a time, this way I can rotate back and forth while the cushioning in the other pair pops back. I once read that depending our your weekly milage count you can get them to last 30 months. I think 30 months is pushing it. However, mine lasted 24 months before I started having problems. Not sure if that is a testament to my great running form or a ringing endorsement to Asics?! (I vote me, but I may be biased.)

Before I said good bye to my old pairs, I took a family photo.

My last discovery is the one I'm least happy about. Years ago, I was the poster child for Coke (the dark fizzy liquid, not the snorting kind. Just wanted to clarify!) I think I had more Coke in my system than actual blood. When I began to workout (Pilates at the time) on a regular basis, I realized that Coke would undo all the good I was doing for my body, so I began to faze it out. Instead of a drink I would have multiple times a day, it became a drink I would only have when fighting a migraine or feeling under the weather.

When I was growing up my folks didn't keep soda in the house. We were only allowed to drink water, milk, oj, and in the summer lemonade, ice tea and Kool Aide (which is probably just as bad as soda, but hey it's got a smiley face on the pitcher so it can't be all bad!) The only times we would have soda is when we were sick or when "we sneaked up at night". For a while my dad worked days and my mom worked nights. Her shift would usually end around eleven or midnight. On her way home she would stop at the local deli--George's and grab a sandwich, chips and a coke. Sometimes, if her coming home woke me up I would sneak into the room (make sure to NOT wake up my brother) and hang out with my parents. Since it was late and dark out, it had an air of forbiddenness to it, which made it very cool. I loved those stolen moments with just the two of them.

Mom would sometimes let me have a sip or two of coke on those evenings. I think since my only childhood memories of drinking coke are associated with warmth and comfort, I now look at coke as a comfort food. A bit weird, I know, but hey that's me! Weirdness!

Anyway, lately I have noticed that because I am more tired now, on certain days I need a coke to get through the day. Otherwise I would be sleeping at work, which I don't think would fly with my boss. On one hand, I look at it like if I need a bit of caffeine to get me through the day than so be it. Hasn't Starbucks made a multi-million dollar company off of this? Since I don't drink coffee ever, I'm thinking a bit of soda here and there isn't a big deal. However, I do get nervous that I will revert back to my poster child days--which I definitely don't want. I don't need the dental bills. Right now I am trying to use best judgment and only have a soda if I really need it. For example, if drinking it will keep me from snoring at my desk and disrupting the open floor plan, than I will have a can.

What is the point of humidity? Do we really need it for some reason? Or is it just a plot by the hair care product manufacturers? (This one gets my vote!)

I think we should do away with humidity all together. It would make running/training in the Summer a much more pleasant experience. It would also benefit those runners who suffer from asthma. During a recent long training run in Central Park I was behind a woman who just as we crested Harlem Hill had to stop and take out her inhaler. I felt a bit sorry for her that she had to put up with that annoyance, but proud that she wasn't letting it stop her from competing. She has the true warrior spirit!

No humidity would probably also help increase some folks pace time. I know it would help me. I definitely run faster in the cooler weather with less humidity. I am very affected by high humidity. (I would like to say, who isn't but some folks seem to be able to put it out of their minds and run for miles.) I can't seem to do that. I'd like to blame it on my sensitive fair skin which burns very easily, or the fact that I suffer from migraines if I'm not hydrating properly. Perhaps, it can be blamed on the fact that I sweat (notice I said sweat and not glisten) a lot. I'm talking buckets and buckets full of the stuff. Since high humidity can prevent the evaporation of sweat from the skin perhaps there is a physical reason why I don't run well in the heat. (Please note the use of science (biology) to explain why my pace sucks in the humidity. Go me! Can I make up excuses or what?)

However, it could also just be all in my head and it is something I need to push through and just deal with. For some reason when I run in the winter (I've run in 1 degree weather with wind thrown in for fun) and it doesn't seem to bother me and I can just keep going and going. All my life, (an exciting 42 years so far) I've always done better in the cold than in the heat. To me it is easier to warm yourself up when cold (sweater, blanket, hot coco (with marshmallows of course), liquor, snuggling in front of a fireplace with my other half, etc.) than it is to cool yourself down (pool, fan, AC, iced beverage). I feel that warming yourself up is usually more of an immediate reaction while cooling off is more of a process that takes quite a while to work. Unless you employ the Polar Bear Club method. I think that would have an instant reaction and the possible gamble of a trip to the ER.

Whenever I run in the humidity, it takes me a few miles to find my rhythm. Until then I keep asking myself why am I running in these conditions. Couldn't I run later in the day? Or perhaps there is a shadier route I could take. Depending on how bad the humidity is I may walk a bit during the run. I know some folks just gasped at that fact. Perhaps I am not a true runner because I can't or won't push through it. Maybe I lack the mental toughness. This is all possible. For me the mental aspect of running has always given me more trouble than the physical.

I try to chip my way through the mental wall and become a stronger, tougher runner and sometimes I feel like I succeed. However, when I see folks dripping in sweat with their shirts soaked after only one mile, I feel like perhaps it is okay to make an exception. I do also think there is something to be said about having to start running again after walking for a while. Your muscles feel a bit tight, and the urge to stop and walk again is very strong. Perhaps, battling through those two factors and making yourself continue to run can also be seen as a way of increasing mental toughness?

Another thought that has gone through my mind is that since the race is being held on November 1st there is no chance It will be humid that day. Unless global warming rears it's head. Since most likely the day will be on the colder side, I wonder how important it is to really learn to run in high humidity. I do feel it is important to learn to run outside, definitely on the course if possible, and you should learn to run in all types of weather. It is also good to learn how to control ones pace, and I will attempt  to perfect the tempo run in this heat. However,  how important is it master your true race pace if the weather conditions will change drastically on race day?

My Mom

Since I am running on behalf of my mom, you may think she was a great runner who participated in lots of events, including perhaps a marathon. And you would be wrong. She occasionally swam, but never ran. I, however, am the opposite I run, but I don't swim. Well, I can swim enough so I won't drown in the pool or anything, but dump my ass out in the middle of the ocean and I am shark kibble.

My mom was one of those awesome moms that all my friends wished they had. She was fun loving, 

mischievous (in a good way), caring, and very open. I could talk to her about anything and everything without a problem. Even the dreaded S-E-X was acceptable. (To discus, not act upon--don't want to give you the wrong idea here!) She was not only my mom, but also my friend.

 

Throughout my entire childhood, mom was always a bit forgetful and easily confused. She would always play it off with a laugh or a joke. Sometime at her own expense. My brother and I grew up thinking--that's just mom, you know how she is. We never thought twice about it. Perhaps we should have,

In 1993 my dad had his first heart attack and it was also at this time we discovered that he was a type 2 diabetic. My mom became his primary caregiver while working full time. So any mix-ups about times or dates, etc. were chalked up to having too many balls in the air. Again, we didn't think anything of it, it was just mom being mom.

After my dad passed away in 2004, we noticed changes in mom, but chalked it up to her losing her partner and being on her own for the first time in her life. Mom had gone straight from her father's place to dad's. There were days and times when she was aware, she called both my brother and I to ask what should she do now that she was alone. Hobbies? Outings? Trips? There were also times when she tried to pretend all was fine and she was doing well. Maybe she was protecting us?

 

A few months before my wedding in 2006 things came to a head and we realized something was really wrong and this wasn't normal "mom" stuff. She called me one night to tell me that she had picked out her dress for the wedding and to let me know the color. However, what she told me was "The adults have finished having breakfast and now the kids can come eat." I was completely confused. When I asked her to repeat, thinking I must have got it wrong. She said the same thing. I asked her again and she repeated it very slowly and all I could think of was go as slow as you want I'm still not gonna get it.

After explaining the odd call to Scott, we called my brother Shawn to discuss. We were able to talk mom into giving us medical proxy, so we could talk and work with her doctors. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and after a few events which included a $200 cab ride and disappearing on a trip for seniors it was deemed she couldn't live alone anymore,

 

We found an assisted living facility that both my brother and I loved. We arranged for mom to get a tour and speak to the head of the facility about possibly moving in. Mom loved it and when we left she was soooo excited to be moving. She even told all her friends that she was leaving. However, moving day turned out to be completely different.

Everyone else had to work, so I helped mom pack a few boxes and took her over to her new home. She was happy and excited. When we got there she told the head of the facility that she wanted to be there and was looking forward to it. After the paperwork and a visit with the facility's medical department to go over her medicine regime we were unpacking in her new room. She began to get ancy and said she wanted to unpack later. She told me she was hungry, so we went downstairs where they distracted mom by getting her a snack and then got her involved in an activity. They said it might be easier if I left while she was distracted.

 

An hour later I received a phone call that she had tried to leave the building three times to go home. Since they are an assisted living facility and the folks who love there want to be there, they are not equipped to be chasing escapees. So I came back and had a discussion with the head of the facility. It seemed that the best option would be to have mom taken to the hospital for an evaluation, if it was determined that she couldn't live alone, or in an assisted facility the hospital would place her. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make, but I knew something had to be done and this place was the only one Shawn and I could find that would take an Alzheimer's patient with no insurance.

The paramedics insisted on putter her on a stretcher and taking her out to the ambulance through the front door. This took her past the dinning room where dinner was being held. Everyone turned to look--not that I could blame them. Like mom I use humor, so I turned to the room and said "This ends the floor show portion of the evening." and just kept going. The folks at the facility gave me directions--which included you can't miss it (which anyone who has been on a run with me knows I will in fact miss it and will become lost) and when you come around the corner you will see a Jesus statue.

Of course once alone in the car, I began to cry as I drove (always a good combo). When I came around the corner though, sure enough there was a huge Jesus statue with a spotlight on it. I vaguely remember yelling Jesus! at the top of my lungs when I saw him. I grew up in a religious house hold so it was a very comforting sight. It also meant I didn't get lost. Miracle!

To make a long story short, the hospital placed mom in a facility where she resided until we found her an even better place in Montrose, NY. She lived in Montrose until her death in February, 2012.

I still miss her and every now and then I catch myself using one of her expressions or mannerisms. It both frightens and pleases me. However, one thing is definite--I love my mom!

 

Scavenger Hunt

On a chilly, damp Sunday morning three brave souls set out to explore Central Park and uncover thirty-some-odd treasures. It soon became clear that while our warriors have lived and run in the area for at least twenty-something years combined, they were not the most observant bunch. They have been so dedicated on running and becoming better runners that they have missed the significance of the some of the statues in the park. (Actually, they never realized there were that many statues in the park, but let’s not split hairs.)

They began strong, quickly finding the carousel (audio tour by Kelly Rippa), Sir Walter Scott, Robert Burns and Cleopatra’s Needle. Here I would like to point out that we purposely lined up our shot to include the wheelchair(?) racer in the background—we like to support our fellow runners. (We also thought it would be safer than photoboming the race.)

 

As one explorer was climbing down off the Sir Walter Scott statue, she noticed a woman off to the side patiently waiting to take a photo of the statue. To explain she said "The things we do for a scavenger hunt!". With the ice broken, the woman asked about the hunt and the warriors explained that they are training for the marathon and run on behalf of the Association. She was happy to hear this and explained that she did a Memory Walk the day before. Small world.

As time went on and the clues either became harder (Jeanine who?) or they knew the who or what, but not the where (Hans Christen Andersen), they began the age old custom of when in doubt take a photo! For a couple of items this actually worked! However, there were a few other images that made it into the montage that had absolutely nothing to do with any clue (The Falconer, anyone?).

You will also notice several bridge images. Bow Bridge did not readily come to mind, so they got inventive. While running to the fountain, our explorers noticed paintings of Hindu Gods under the bridge. Since Legolas is a character from Lord of the Rings, we thought lords/gods—semantics! They also came across a bridge in the Bramble that looked like it could fit right into the movies, so bridge picture number two. They also took that moment to snap an image or two of the surrounding area. Look Ali they ran trails!

It was then they discovered Bow Bridge and made the correct connection. Check out the Vanna White action by the sign! Not only did they get the sign, but they also got the bridge. I think it should also be noted that one of our brave souls (who has no sense of direction) not only went into the Bramble, but actually came out without getting lost—of course that was due to her teammates!

At the statue of the Polish King, our runners decided it was a good time to pose and check to see if their deodorant was working. Multi-taskers! They also decided it was time to earn some extra points (cough-brown-nosers-cough) by photographing a water tower for Coach Brian!

When all was said and done, it was evident that while our members may not have found all (or most) of the items, they did have fun! They discovered where each other lives, their running histories and even traded stories on why they run for the Association. There was also some riveting conversation that included a discussion which posed the question are Sweedish people also considered Danes? (This what happens when you try to make random things fit the clues.) Could Jeanine remember her parents by a memorial bench? And if so, do we need the actual bench? Or can we just take a photo of any bench? (Will Ali really check?)

So I think we can consider the adventure a win.

Queens 10K

On Sunday, June 21, I decided to celebrate Father's Day by taking a 6 point something romp with a few thousand of my closest friends, as a participant in the NYRR Queens 10K. I did this race for the first time last year and really enjoyed it. Well, except for the brain fart at the end. While running I kept thinking six miles, all I have to do is six miles, so when I came across the six mile marker, I thought great I'm done. When I started to slow down I realized I was the only one doing so. Everyone else was continuing to run. Hummm?? Oh shit, wait a 10K is actually 6.25 or something like that. I have to run more. I kicked it into gear and when I came around the corner I found the real finish line. This year I would be prepared.

The first three miles or so were great. I was feeling good and was beating my time from last year. Unfortunately, the sun decided to come out at that point and while I was already dealing with a reported 94% humidity, I was now dealing with the heat beating down upon my head. I tried to continue running, but the humidity was starting to get me. As I was approaching an overpass over the L.I.E. (I believe, or it could have been the Sunrise Highway--never can tell in L.I.--they love their highways) I looked around and it was almost as if everyone suddenly became of one mind. Everyone stopped and proceeded to walk over the incline and then start running again on the other side. It sorta reminded me of the Borg for a moment.

During each race I run, my competitive nature rears its head an picks a target. Now, this is not done in a mean "I'm going to crush you" sort of way. Nor do I plan to do the person any actual harm. It is more of a motivational tool. This is done entirely unconsciously. I select my victim by some little quirk that I notice about them. Once, I choose them my goal becomes to finish the race before them.

This time I choose two folks, a man and a woman (check me out, very pc--equal opportunity all the way). Now, I give both of these folks big props and a lot of credit for being out their and running this race. The man had one leg and was running with the use of crutches and the woman was a devout Jewish woman wearing a long black skirt and a grey long sleeve shirt. Again, I give them a lot of credit and points, but there was also no way I was letting either of them beat me.

At one point, when the humidity was really getting to me I began to do a run/walk combo. It was then that I saw the woman. She was plugging along concentrating on running. I felt like, okay if she can run with all that clothing on in this heat, I better get my butt in gear. So I began to run again. My muscles started to cramp up and I had to revert to a run/walk combo. I was also feeling a bit dehydrated.

Now, I realize I am a woman and I should say "I glisten", but no "I SWEAT!" During this race I was sweating a good bucket size amount. At the fluid stations I kept hoping for Gatorade, but alas only one station had it. I began to take multiple cups of water at every station. Unfortunately, the humidity was still really getting to me. At the time I felt like I had no choice to run/walk and I comforted myself with the realization that I was not alone. At lot of other runners were doing the same thing.

However, on later reflection, I wonder if I gave in too easily and if I should have powered through and continued running the entire thing. I wonder if I let the race defeat me mentally. Should the weather have played that much of a factor? However, I would like it noted that I only finished 13 minutes over last year's time. So perhaps I didn't do that bad?

There was a woman at the last part of the race who had a megaphone and was cheering the runners on to the finish line. I however, was plotting to get the device away from her. She kept yelling about pushing past the pain and while I realize she is right and you shouldn't give up when things get tough. But on the other hand my calves were screaming at me and I was so thirsty all I wanted to do was concentrate on getting to the finish so I could walk and find my car (where my Gatorade was waiting for me). She is lucky I didn't have any extra energy. I did end the race on a finisher sprint though, not sure where that came from. Must be the lure of the Gatorade.

After the race I met up with my husband and we set off to run two errands before going to see my father-in-law, Russell. As part of the never ending charm of Long Island we kept getting stuck in traffic. While sitting in the car I kept drinking tons of Gatorade. Now what happens when you drink a lot in heavy traffic? Yup, we needed to make a pit stop before we could finish the errands. Now, I love my husband very much, but when he drove us to a mall (the Macy's end no less), I was going to kill him. I am all hot and sweaty and oh so fashionable and he takes me to Macy's of all places. Luckily for him, he led me around the corner of Macy's and in through another entrance. I did have to pass a some folks and wait on a line in the restroom, but I thought what the hell, I'm gonna be sassy and embrace this moment. After all, I thought, I ran over six miles in the heat this morning. What did you do? (I will give the two women on crutches a pass though. However, the one legged man may beg to differ.)

I do have one last question. This race was what I feel was one of my worst, however when I looked at the photos of me--my form is awesome! I actually look like a runner! Perhaps I should buy them and look at them before other races for motivation.