Life’s Short. Run Long.

My friend Shannon and I had both scheduled a 20 miler for the long run. We met on a wet, wet, very wet, morning, at one of the best running spots in Western Washington: East Sammamish River Trail by Redmond. The temperature was warm, in the high 50’s and the drizzle was constant but lovely. I told Shannon that we should split up if she needed to pick up the pace. She is way faster than me and her marathon is around the corner. I was not going to hold her up. Training is training and we gotta do what we gotta do. I was concerned because I was physically and mentally tired. I was coming from a 17 miler last week, with a lot of hills in it, and I worked this week about 12 hour each day. Add to that recipe a daunting 20-mile run, and I could drag my feet any minute.

We had so much enthusiasm that the first 8 miles were pretty much unnoticeable. Runners and bikers were all with smiles on their faces, and jolly “good morning” came out of my mouth every minute. I dare to say that the smiles and sense of happiness were due to various factors: All of us on that trail love what we were doing. People would not jump out of their bed on a 100% rainy day to do something they don’t like. The weather was perfect for running, with all and the drizzle. We were in a place with gorgeous scenery: poplars on the right, and a calm river, a slew, on the left, with plenty of ducks and geese guarded by trees with the colors of fall: red, orange, yellow. The reflection of the trees on the peaceful waters was striking.  The mist around the evergreens on the mountains made the place simply magic.

Before my watch beeped on mile 10, I asked Shannon if she wouldn’t mind to go farther, maybe 0.5 miles, for me to show her something. She was OK, and asked what. I told her she would have to see it by herself. For sure, it was going to be worthy, something with a lot of meaning, especially for us runners; something to make us pause, and have a reflection. I have shared this before, and wanted to share it with her. The watch beeped, and the bench was right there, a bench with a bolted pair of bronze running shoes: a memorial for runner Liz Duncan, who, 3 days before her 27^th birthday, was killed by a car, while running.  As Shannon said, a fellow runner gone too soon.  And then you pause, think, and ask: what are the things that really matter?

We turned around and continued with our journey, now into regressive mode. Boy, don’t you love that? My legs started to feel tired at mile 13. At 14 Shannon says: only 6 more. At 16 I said Dieciseis, and Shannon started repeating the word. Then the mileage countdown became a Spanish class. Diecisiete, Dieciocho, Diecinueve, VEINTE (20). We were done. My first 20 miler of my marathon season was complete. 12 weeks to go. 

A lovely run, with fantastic company, terrific surroundings, and delicious weather. Life's Short. Run Long.

Dedicated to Liz Duncan.

The Ninth Mile: Kyle’s Mile

It was springtime when Tony Seabolt started sharing about a new race in the Pacific Northwest: Race For A Soldier.  The cause was worth the effort of coordinating something that was definitely bigger than us.

Kyle Marshall Farr came back home “safe” from Iraq, but no so safe. He had PTSD, which sadly claimed his life. His mom, Leslie Mayne, an admirable woman, decided that Kyle’s death would not be in vain. Her mission was to get the necessary reform to help our military men and women suffering PTSD. She was determined to make Race For A Soldier, an instrument to bring awareness to our communities, military, and government that PTSD is a heartbreaking reality costing the lives of our men and women that have served for our freedom.

The excitement of the race was in crescendo with the passing months.  Race For A Soldier shared the progress not only of race events but also of available therapies where race funds will go.

When finally October 16 arrived, all wheels and pulleys were in synch for a perfect race. Hundreds of volunteers have worked to mark this day as the beginning of something truly important. The venue for the race was the gorgeous town of Gig Harbor, and the course one of the prettiest courses I have run.

I put a running team together with the goal of representing our military. Running Force was assembled and each of us would symbolize our forces wearing their colors on race day: Shannon (Army), Susan (Navy), Angie (Air Force), and myself (Marine Corps).  

The opening ceremony was remarkable and after an emotive national anthem we were set to go. The first mile mark was The Mayne Mile, representing Kyle’s mom. As a mother, I can't imagine how she has gone through all this process, but she has, and has gone strong.  The cheerful company along the way was fantastic. The beautiful rolling hills, whether they were steep or not, plus the multitude of volunteers with yellow shirts and American flags flanking the runners, made this one of the greatest races I’ve run. 

Then I got to mile 9. A mile marker that was simply stunning: Kyle’s picture on his football uniform, #9, Kyle’s mile. I had to stop, touch the picture, kneel, and pay a small tribute. If I had run the first nine miles embedded in this race purpose, the four miles left were more emotional now.

Tony was there when I crossed the finish line, we hugged and I felt in that moment Leslie's and race organizers’ success. Tony introduced me to Leslie, and between tears, in a very sincere moment, I only had to say: God Bless You. She hugged me tight and told me, I saw you at mile 9. I could speak no more. She was living proof that there is hope in the face of despair.

May this race be just the beginning of something big to help our military in need. This is beyond Gig Harbor, and beyond Washington State. I see the potential and need for this race going across the country, from north to south and from sea to shining sea.

May all the miles run for our men and women serving in the military symbolize what Race For A Soldier symbolizes: The Ninth Mile: Kyle's Mile.

The Ninth Mile. Kyle's Mile

The Mayne Mile

Team RUNNING FORCE: Sharon (Army), Susan (Navy), Angie (Air Force), Lizzie (Marine Corps)

With Leslie after the race

With Miguel, Race Planner Chief and Coordinator

How wonderful to run a race that means and represents something way bigger than our own little worlds. Leslie, God Bless You. Miguel & Tony, and all volunteers, thank you for such an amazing work. This objective has to cross our country, from north to south, and from sea, to shining sea. Love you all.

Beautiful medal. It represents what/who we are running for!!!


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I ran a very good race and felt strong running the hills. Did 4 miles prior to the race as my marathon plan had me scheduled a 17-miler. I clocked 10min/mile. Steady.

"Worm" And Fuzzy

Regressive Countdown - Week Fifteen -
10/03/11 - 10/09/11 -
Week Total: 25.5 miles -

Houston Marathon training has officially started. Because I am swamped with work I will not be able to join my running group in Green Lake, so I will be training alone with my own plan, which will be based on Furman (what’s new). I will do my best to hit Furman’s paces for key workout #3, and I will add some mileage with easy runs. I will be closely monitoring how off my PMP (Planned Marathon Pace) is and will adjust accordingly. Trial and error, right?

Week started with a couple of very short and easy runs as I come from three weeks of resting; then, my favorite workout: Intervals.  Plan called for 4 x 800 at 5K –30 pace, which is 8:15. I averaged that for the first three 800. The last 800, however, started at 7:50; 300 left to go I did 7:25, 200 to go 7:00, 100 to go 6:30. How did it feel? As if my heart was going to burst out of my chest.  And that’s exactly why I love speed workouts, because I know I give it all… !!!

Scheduled long run was a 15-miler, and I was planning on doing it the way I love to do it, with a race. Also, the only way that I had been able to hit Furman’s pace is in races.

The race was in Elma, about 100 miles from home and I doubted about going. It seemed painful to drive 200 miles “just” to run 15 miles. I wanted to sleep in as I had worked a lot of hours during the week; I was so tired that I went to bed at 6:30 Friday night and fell asleep right away. The good thing is that I slept 12 hours!!! As the race would start at 11 am I would have plenty of time to get there. The decision was made, when at 7am I asked to myself: What is better? To drive almost 4 hours total to run a nice race, and have my social gathering with runners? Or, to run close to home at a sloppy pace and have available more than 3 hours playing stupid computer? Better for me was to hit the road.

The road to Elma, once I turned west in Olympia toward the beaches, was beautiful. I had never driven that highway which was all flanked by thousand of evergreens. It made the drive an outstanding one. The race would start and finish in Vance Creek Park which is a small beautiful park surrounding a pretty man-made lake or pond (Bowers Lake, and Lake Inez). I registered, and met, of course, known people (Kristin) and talked with others about our favorite subject.

The same people that organize the Rochester races, Bob and Kristina Salazar, put this race together. I love them because they are very small races with events for all: Marathon, Half Marathon, 10 mile, 10K, 5K, 1mile, Olympic Triathlon, Sprint Triathlon, and Duathlon. Yes, all this at the same time, and at the end, all of us gather to have nice food and talk about how did it go, what’s next, and what have you.

I planned to run 2 miles prior to the race, but talking with people here and there I consumed some of my time and only ran 1.4 miles (the perimeter of the lake was 0.6 miles, and from my car to the lake 0.1, so I ran two loops). I planned to run another loop after the race.

The course was out-and-back, flat, and I went calm and without hurry. Plan was to run average a 10:30 min/mile pace as my long run. Temperature was warm, in low 60’s, but in the way out we had a nice 5mph breeze that acted as a personal fan. Of course, I knew what it meant; I would be hot in my way back.

Because I have never ran this course before I had the “wondering” factor, and the wonder began from the start when I saw for first time in my life these big fuzzy “worms” along the route. It was a Sun City, Yakima Half Marathon déjà-vu; exactly a year ago. Is this a case where worms go once a year, the second week of October, to cheer the runners on? Are the Eastern Washington naked slugs because is a desert, and Western Washington fuzzy because the rain?

These “worms” were beautiful: black, orange, black, all dressed up for Halloween. They were fuzzy, which makes them right away no-worms, but caterpillars, but as the first impression to me was a worm one, worm they were! I continued my race just looking for more worms. I saw tons of them. I was so curious, that I knew as soon as I got home I would go to Wikipedia to learn about them.

Race was good, the volunteers fantastic, nice to see the marathoners (saw Kristin a couple of times, their course was out-and-back twice), but nicer knowing that I didn’t have to run the whole distance. I had good negative splits, though I confessed I got several times lost in my “worms” thoughts. At the turn around my weather prediction was correct. My personal fan was gone and I was hot. About mile 8.5 I poured water on my head and face; talked a little with the volunteer and her nice little boy who had his private camper in the trunk of mom’s car. Continued my race, and pushed the pace speeding up about 20 sec per mile. I passed a marathoner who told me “You make it look so easy”, I turned my head and told him: “That’s because you are running 26 and me “only half”… I ended well at 10:24 pace; ran another loop around the lake to complete my 15-miler; got my trophy; ate a black forest ham/cheese sandwich; enjoyed the post race party, and happily thanked for making the decision to drive that far.

As hubby was fishing in American Lake, located in my way to home, I stopped, he picked me up at the boat launch and we went for a gorgeous boat ride with majestic Rainier in the background: Great ending to a race that was "Worm" And Fuzzy. 

The "worm", actually a beautiful caterpillar: Isabella Tiger Moth

Kristin at mile 25.5

Hubby and his friend coming to pick me up at the launch

Majestic Rainier from American Lake