In case you are new here, I am KIWI. I am Kasha's phone. She is decorating her Christmas corner and cleaning and doing, well, stuff. I use the italics. That's how you know it's me.
Kasha has a race fever.
That means when she doesn't have a Big Race coming up, she gets weird.
Well, weirder than her usual level of weird.
On Thursday we got to do the United Way Turkey Trot. She let me ride in the stroller. I like that, but she says she won't push a stroller just for me to ride in. Also, we are doing Runner's World Run Streak. That means we (Kasha) runs at least a mile every day from Thanksgiving through New Years. This is good because she needs to run a lot to pretend to be like everyone else. This is bad because Kasha is gonna want to run every single day. But you know what's funny? The first 3 days of the streak, she had to push a stroller. Thursday was Turkey Trot with Aidan. Friday she was taking care of Aidan and his big brother all day, so she borrowed a double stroller and off we went! Saturday she took Aidan with her to go walk dogs. They stroller-ed to that, too. But that made Sunday's run really cool.
Kasha's first ever run goal was an 8 minute mile. Just one. Just once. Couldn't do it. After November Race (Rock n Roll Savannah) she decided she would be a 9 minute runner. That means her go-to pace would be 9 minutes. And her first 4 mile run, she did it! So on Sunday, Kasha was mad at, well, everything. Her car broke. Yucko. But she had been pushing that stroller really hard! So she flew out the door super fast. She ran a 7:35 mile!!! She was so excited!
Then she spent an hour calculating splits and new possible race times.
See? She's totally weird.
So Sunday's run broke, like really big broke; the old record. She's very happy. Today she used the treadmill at gym-work and ran 1.5 miles just for fun at a 9:13 pace.
On Saturday, we run the Savannah River Bridge Run. The first year, Kasha ran with a friend. The second year she coached and ran a new runner. The third year, she moved up to the 10k. This year, we will run the 10k again. Then later that month we will go to Jacksonville for December Race. She's very excited, because her Boston-runner friend go there, too.
Oh. I got off track.
I was gonna tell you what happened when Kasha got race fever.
January was gonna be our Charleston full marathon race. But she hadn't signed up yet, because she also hadn't dealt with the hotel logistics. Then Fleet Feet emailed.
...Fleet Feet emails are dangerous. They say stuff like "shoes on sale!" "cool new runner clothes!" and "check out this Ultra Marathon!"
WHAT?!?!?
An Ultra Marathon is a race more than 26.2 miles. The distances usually go from 50 km (31 miles) all the way to Stupid (100 billion million infinity miles).
You know how people-brains work? They go, "26 miles? That's crazy! I'm gonna eat some pie!"
You know how Kasha's brain works? It goes, "31 miles? That's only 5 more than 26!"
Then her brain did more bad stuff. It went like this:
"31 miles? That's only 5 more than 26! There's an 8 hour time limit. My longest marathon took 6 hours. That's two more whole hours to crawl 5 miles! And I did the first Turkey Trot as my first 5K and went back to Athens, Ga for their first half marathon to be my first half marathon and I did my first full marathon as the first Savannah marathon and if the Ultra goes well, I will have always done the first one and if it isn't well-received, I will have done the only one as my first one and my city is GIVING me an Ultra. ...it would be rude to not do it. And this is the Universe telling me why I never signed up for Charleston and-"
I'm just gonna cut it off there.
January 12th, Kasha is gonna run 31 miles.
....I hope I can ride in the stroller.
LOVE KIWI
Monday, November 26, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Kasha's Run-iversary & Turkey Trot
Thursday is my anniversary.
3 years.
...of racing.
The United Way Turkey Trot began 4 years ago in Savannah. It was the first race I signed up for. I remember when I first started running and built up to 3 miles. Someone pointed out that a 5k is 3.1 miles. I knew I could make it that last .1. So I signed up, picked up my packet, freaked out about everything freak out-able, and showed up to run. My music player cord got tangled and I got a stitch so bad I thought I might walk. I didn't. I made it 3.1 miles and was hooked. I was shaking with endorphins when I crossed the finish line. In the following year, I ran 25+ 5ks. Most of them back-to-back weekends and at least one set of Friday night & Saturday morning. Since then I have won my age group and been almost last. I've completed 5ks, 8ks, 10ks, half marathons, full marathons, and a triathlon. I've had courses that weren't marked and ran too far, races on trails, runs that brought me to walks, and songs at the wrong moment that made me almost cry. I've raced alone, tried to keep up with others, slowed for others, and gone out too fast. I've looked for loved ones who never showed up and been pleasantly surprised when others have. I've held back, thrown up, and lost toe nails. At times I've gone to bed without showering because I know I'll just be running another 5 in the morning. I've been the person who coaches another through painful miles, and I've had racers come back for me. They talk my ear off to give me a concentration point, just as I do for others. I've tried to duct tape my shoes to run the Tybee Half in the rain. Camelbak water packs for the Savannah Rock and Roll. Antlers for Girls on the Run headbands. Cotton shorts to swim a triathlon. And hours upon hours reading race results looking for the names of others. People I can mentally induct into my world of Runners.
But I've never dropped out.
I've never quit.
They don't move the finish line.
This is not a sprint. You do not stop after a bad mile.
Blisters, chafing, aching, muscles that quit, and hair and clothes that become heavy with sweat. Chilled from wind and dropping body temperatures, toenails that seem to get sick after a race, only to fall away in the weeks after.
My body has refused the fuel it knows and resisted food when I know I'm running a four thousand plus calorie deficit. Throwing up chocolate milk and curling up in the shower after a run that hurt mentally as well as physically.
Bad races pictures and some that go viral on Twitter.
On Thursday, I will run the Savannah United Way Turkey Trot. Year 4 is 4 miles. The beginning of my year long race season.
But this year, I will be racing with a partner. Aidan is 5 and last year I promised to push him in the Turkey Trot. We've practiced with the stroller and he's the perfect running buddy. He talks my ear off and hands me water. He tells me I am fast, even when I'm not. We have decorations planned for the stroller and an Indian costume for him. He's not my kid, but he tolerates me. His mom and sister run the Turkey Trot as well. He's excited to be a part of our multi-family Thanksgiving tradition and I'm going to enjoy the stroller year, as he already has a pretty killer mile. Soon, he will insist on running it himself.
Then it will be my turn to slow down and pace another up and coming runner.
Because that's what we do.
Run hard when you have it, run harder for anyone else.
And ALWAYS be thankful we can do this. Some can't, someday we may be among them.
Never. Stop. Running.
Happy Run-iversary to me, and Happy Thanksgiving to you.
3 years.
...of racing.
The United Way Turkey Trot began 4 years ago in Savannah. It was the first race I signed up for. I remember when I first started running and built up to 3 miles. Someone pointed out that a 5k is 3.1 miles. I knew I could make it that last .1. So I signed up, picked up my packet, freaked out about everything freak out-able, and showed up to run. My music player cord got tangled and I got a stitch so bad I thought I might walk. I didn't. I made it 3.1 miles and was hooked. I was shaking with endorphins when I crossed the finish line. In the following year, I ran 25+ 5ks. Most of them back-to-back weekends and at least one set of Friday night & Saturday morning. Since then I have won my age group and been almost last. I've completed 5ks, 8ks, 10ks, half marathons, full marathons, and a triathlon. I've had courses that weren't marked and ran too far, races on trails, runs that brought me to walks, and songs at the wrong moment that made me almost cry. I've raced alone, tried to keep up with others, slowed for others, and gone out too fast. I've looked for loved ones who never showed up and been pleasantly surprised when others have. I've held back, thrown up, and lost toe nails. At times I've gone to bed without showering because I know I'll just be running another 5 in the morning. I've been the person who coaches another through painful miles, and I've had racers come back for me. They talk my ear off to give me a concentration point, just as I do for others. I've tried to duct tape my shoes to run the Tybee Half in the rain. Camelbak water packs for the Savannah Rock and Roll. Antlers for Girls on the Run headbands. Cotton shorts to swim a triathlon. And hours upon hours reading race results looking for the names of others. People I can mentally induct into my world of Runners.
But I've never dropped out.
I've never quit.
They don't move the finish line.
This is not a sprint. You do not stop after a bad mile.
Blisters, chafing, aching, muscles that quit, and hair and clothes that become heavy with sweat. Chilled from wind and dropping body temperatures, toenails that seem to get sick after a race, only to fall away in the weeks after.
My body has refused the fuel it knows and resisted food when I know I'm running a four thousand plus calorie deficit. Throwing up chocolate milk and curling up in the shower after a run that hurt mentally as well as physically.
Bad races pictures and some that go viral on Twitter.
On Thursday, I will run the Savannah United Way Turkey Trot. Year 4 is 4 miles. The beginning of my year long race season.
But this year, I will be racing with a partner. Aidan is 5 and last year I promised to push him in the Turkey Trot. We've practiced with the stroller and he's the perfect running buddy. He talks my ear off and hands me water. He tells me I am fast, even when I'm not. We have decorations planned for the stroller and an Indian costume for him. He's not my kid, but he tolerates me. His mom and sister run the Turkey Trot as well. He's excited to be a part of our multi-family Thanksgiving tradition and I'm going to enjoy the stroller year, as he already has a pretty killer mile. Soon, he will insist on running it himself.
Then it will be my turn to slow down and pace another up and coming runner.
Because that's what we do.
Run hard when you have it, run harder for anyone else.
And ALWAYS be thankful we can do this. Some can't, someday we may be among them.
Never. Stop. Running.
Happy Run-iversary to me, and Happy Thanksgiving to you.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Kiwi Breaks Facebook and Kasha Finishes A Marathon
Kiwi said he broke an app. That was almost correct. He broke Facebook. I'm not even on Facebook! I dropped it about 2 years ago and never missed it. Well, a certain little electronic CRETIN, along with some of my clients, decided it would be brilliant business to create a Facebook page for me.
....you can see where this is going.
So, I'm technically not on Facebook, since I'm not a "people page." Kiwi set me up as a community business/athlete.
Kasha on Facebook
Thanks?
This means that in order for people to find me, they search for my name, then click a little orange flag next to the search options and select Community.
I think.
This is like a fan page. "Kasha Jones" (with the pic of me post-Milestone Half Marathon) on Facebook cannot be friends with anyone or comment on anything beyond the timeline. "It" can only be "liked." Whatevs. So Kiwi did this, updated the status 11 times (accidentally), and knocked out Facebook in Singapore for about 2 hours. It was a special level of annoyance.
Then while I was napping he set up his own email address. For what?? He's already on Twitter (@TheKashaShow), this blog, and now Facebook! Email too?
....as you may have noticed, Kiwi has not interjected his commentary this evening. That is because he is in time out.
Forever.
Okay, until I figure out how to turn off Facebook notifications.
So there was that whole marathon thing, remember? I left off puking at mile 16. Let's finish that race. Usually after you get sick, you feel better. That was not the case. My stomach hurt and the back of my legs seized up tightly! I kept moving through Savannah State and was lucky- a medical tent within crawling, er, running distance. I asked for salt, hoping electrolyte imbalance was my problem. The salt worked so quickly I got some speed back and gained some confidence from my on-the-run diagnosis. Then it happened again. One packet was not enough. By the time I got through the university, I'd gone through 3 packets.
However, the salt was not the sole thing keeping me on my feet. Savannah State students were out in full force. Whether they were working in shifts or just tireless I don't know, but the cheers, comments, and high fives never quit. The stadium had dance groups, cheerleaders, the baseball team, and my ultra crew ready to go again. Brother-in-law Blake and sister Tiffany ran the camera and Kiwi while my sister Lily and I ran around the track. This resulted in a picture posted on Twitter that got picked up by Competitor Group and retweeted to about 30 multimedia markets worldwide.
I'm famous online.
Not really, but it was cool.
Out of Savannah State and toward Washington Avenue, which I had dubbed The Fourth Quarter. I just had to get there, past my high school (Savannah Arts Academy), and back to Victory Drive. I was moving much slower, but still hoping for a sub-5 marathon. On the way back toward Chatham Crescent (a stunning example of old Savannah architecture and landscaping) I thought I heard my name. Nope, couldn't be. Yes, it was! Tiffany ran up beside me with water and Gu chomps. ....I had given my fuel belt to Lily at Savannah State after stuffing Chomps in the ID pocket of my handheld water bottle. I told her I was fine and she later told me I was still moving fast enough that they almost missed me. They were expecting to see me as I first passed our old high school.
Back down Washington Ave into Daffin Park. This felt like home. Most Savannah runners have spent some time running or racing in this area and the familiarity becomes a momentary home field advantage. I felt calm and comfortable beyond the aching in my calves and hamstrings, and still in control of my thoughts. The finish line is less than a 10k away, I'm in a familiar location, and the Fleet Feet group is nearby.
Slight redirect- Fleet Feet Savannah. I can't say enough about our running store. They'll help you find YOUR shoes, the socks that don't rub, the goal race you want, and never fail to look impressed with the distance of your morning run. Fleet Feet breathes running as I do and knowing they're close is like having a friend nearby. I won't need to lean on them today because they are there and that's enough. They are "my people" even though this is anonymous enough that they'll never see it. Thanks, Fleet Feet. You've helped me find the shoes I love and then campaigned to bring a marathon right here to our city. I really can't ask for more. ...but if I could, I know you'd deliver.
...out of Daffin Park and a few back roads toward Victory Drive and the last stretch of Truman. Victory is blocked off in one lane. I love running with the cars. It's how I train, so it is another moment of what feels comfortable. I get on Truman and run-walk to the end. A single medical station has run out of water, but has salt. I use my water to wash it down. I remember turning onto Anderson as I did so many early mornings training with Kylie. It looks long. For a moment I consider crying. My feet ache, my legs are signalling defeat. Then I see it. A neon green vest that can only mean one thing. Camera man. We do not walk on camera. We do not frown on camera. The cameras capture mere moments of our runs, I want to remember how much I love this, not the momentary pain. I smile and run. Just beyond him, another one! The camera men keep me running and smiling down Anderson. They were spaced so well that by the time I turned onto Drayton to finish the race, I'd forgotten I had considered crying.
I ran through the finish at 5:22:37.
40 minutes off of last year's race!
I'm too happy about dropping a minute and a half per mile to care that it is not a sub-5!
I was so excited!
Tiffany and Blake waited while I tried to make sure the runner I trained for the half had finished (win), take off my running shoes (fail), keep down chocolate milk (fail), or even navigate a portapotty (epic fail). We browsed the finisher's village, something I didn't get to do last year; and headed out.
Headed away from the race we passed the clean up crew on Washington Avenue. If the clean up crew was going though, the last runners couldn't be far in front! We got permission to go down a side street to get in front of the last 2 groups of people. I was barefoot and aching, but I was done while they had about 4 miles to go. So we got out and started cheering. They gave us grateful looks and kept going.
I don't care if you're dead last.
You did it and that deserves a cheering section.
We yelled thank yous to the clean up crews and they blew the truck horns in response and gave me (and my medal) a thumbs up.
We decided to blame all the mess on Kiwi (It was a REALLY big mess), and drive home.
Last year, it took a few months for my brain and body to sync into considering another full distance marathon. This time it took 4 bloody toenails and 24 hours.
....let's go, people. These things aren't gonna run themselves.
Halves: 1 down, 5 to go
Fulls: 1 down, 5 to go
....you can see where this is going.
So, I'm technically not on Facebook, since I'm not a "people page." Kiwi set me up as a community business/athlete.
Kasha on Facebook
Thanks?
This means that in order for people to find me, they search for my name, then click a little orange flag next to the search options and select Community.
I think.
This is like a fan page. "Kasha Jones" (with the pic of me post-Milestone Half Marathon) on Facebook cannot be friends with anyone or comment on anything beyond the timeline. "It" can only be "liked." Whatevs. So Kiwi did this, updated the status 11 times (accidentally), and knocked out Facebook in Singapore for about 2 hours. It was a special level of annoyance.
Then while I was napping he set up his own email address. For what?? He's already on Twitter (@TheKashaShow), this blog, and now Facebook! Email too?
....as you may have noticed, Kiwi has not interjected his commentary this evening. That is because he is in time out.
Forever.
Okay, until I figure out how to turn off Facebook notifications.
So there was that whole marathon thing, remember? I left off puking at mile 16. Let's finish that race. Usually after you get sick, you feel better. That was not the case. My stomach hurt and the back of my legs seized up tightly! I kept moving through Savannah State and was lucky- a medical tent within crawling, er, running distance. I asked for salt, hoping electrolyte imbalance was my problem. The salt worked so quickly I got some speed back and gained some confidence from my on-the-run diagnosis. Then it happened again. One packet was not enough. By the time I got through the university, I'd gone through 3 packets.
However, the salt was not the sole thing keeping me on my feet. Savannah State students were out in full force. Whether they were working in shifts or just tireless I don't know, but the cheers, comments, and high fives never quit. The stadium had dance groups, cheerleaders, the baseball team, and my ultra crew ready to go again. Brother-in-law Blake and sister Tiffany ran the camera and Kiwi while my sister Lily and I ran around the track. This resulted in a picture posted on Twitter that got picked up by Competitor Group and retweeted to about 30 multimedia markets worldwide.
I'm famous online.
Not really, but it was cool.
Out of Savannah State and toward Washington Avenue, which I had dubbed The Fourth Quarter. I just had to get there, past my high school (Savannah Arts Academy), and back to Victory Drive. I was moving much slower, but still hoping for a sub-5 marathon. On the way back toward Chatham Crescent (a stunning example of old Savannah architecture and landscaping) I thought I heard my name. Nope, couldn't be. Yes, it was! Tiffany ran up beside me with water and Gu chomps. ....I had given my fuel belt to Lily at Savannah State after stuffing Chomps in the ID pocket of my handheld water bottle. I told her I was fine and she later told me I was still moving fast enough that they almost missed me. They were expecting to see me as I first passed our old high school.
Back down Washington Ave into Daffin Park. This felt like home. Most Savannah runners have spent some time running or racing in this area and the familiarity becomes a momentary home field advantage. I felt calm and comfortable beyond the aching in my calves and hamstrings, and still in control of my thoughts. The finish line is less than a 10k away, I'm in a familiar location, and the Fleet Feet group is nearby.
Slight redirect- Fleet Feet Savannah. I can't say enough about our running store. They'll help you find YOUR shoes, the socks that don't rub, the goal race you want, and never fail to look impressed with the distance of your morning run. Fleet Feet breathes running as I do and knowing they're close is like having a friend nearby. I won't need to lean on them today because they are there and that's enough. They are "my people" even though this is anonymous enough that they'll never see it. Thanks, Fleet Feet. You've helped me find the shoes I love and then campaigned to bring a marathon right here to our city. I really can't ask for more. ...but if I could, I know you'd deliver.
...out of Daffin Park and a few back roads toward Victory Drive and the last stretch of Truman. Victory is blocked off in one lane. I love running with the cars. It's how I train, so it is another moment of what feels comfortable. I get on Truman and run-walk to the end. A single medical station has run out of water, but has salt. I use my water to wash it down. I remember turning onto Anderson as I did so many early mornings training with Kylie. It looks long. For a moment I consider crying. My feet ache, my legs are signalling defeat. Then I see it. A neon green vest that can only mean one thing. Camera man. We do not walk on camera. We do not frown on camera. The cameras capture mere moments of our runs, I want to remember how much I love this, not the momentary pain. I smile and run. Just beyond him, another one! The camera men keep me running and smiling down Anderson. They were spaced so well that by the time I turned onto Drayton to finish the race, I'd forgotten I had considered crying.
I ran through the finish at 5:22:37.
40 minutes off of last year's race!
I'm too happy about dropping a minute and a half per mile to care that it is not a sub-5!
I was so excited!
Tiffany and Blake waited while I tried to make sure the runner I trained for the half had finished (win), take off my running shoes (fail), keep down chocolate milk (fail), or even navigate a portapotty (epic fail). We browsed the finisher's village, something I didn't get to do last year; and headed out.
Headed away from the race we passed the clean up crew on Washington Avenue. If the clean up crew was going though, the last runners couldn't be far in front! We got permission to go down a side street to get in front of the last 2 groups of people. I was barefoot and aching, but I was done while they had about 4 miles to go. So we got out and started cheering. They gave us grateful looks and kept going.
I don't care if you're dead last.
You did it and that deserves a cheering section.
We yelled thank yous to the clean up crews and they blew the truck horns in response and gave me (and my medal) a thumbs up.
We decided to blame all the mess on Kiwi (It was a REALLY big mess), and drive home.
Last year, it took a few months for my brain and body to sync into considering another full distance marathon. This time it took 4 bloody toenails and 24 hours.
....let's go, people. These things aren't gonna run themselves.
Halves: 1 down, 5 to go
Fulls: 1 down, 5 to go
Thursday, November 8, 2012
November Race; Miles 1-16
Kiwi.
What?
It's been, like, a week since the marathon. Are you gonna post anything?
I got a new app.
So I'll be writing?
Yup.
Saturday the 3rd was the Rock and Roll Marathon benefiting the American Cancer Society here in Savannah, Ga. Last year I completed the full marathon in 6:03:25. This year I completed it in Awesome:Much:Faster. Okay, let's get to the story.
My sister Tiffany-
And Nu Blu!
Hush, Kiwi. My sister Tiffany and her phone "Nu Blu" dropped me off downtown at 6:30am. I walked a block to the start line and talked to some other runners. Competitor Group, a for-profit organization, does a great job with their events. Bathroom wait? Nada. Walked right up. And corrals? No problem. I just jumped into Corral 10 and headed for the start. I knew I picked the right one when our start music was Eye of the Tiger.
Off we go! Headed down Bay Street toward the industrial district. Let me state: these people rock! It's cold out and we're moving. They're standing there cheering their heads off with only jackets and coffee to keep them warm. I'm enjoying the crowds and the other runners more than my own music. Under I-16 & back downtown for more mileage, cheering crowds with some old school and some original signs, and the dreaded brick streets.
Did you fall down?
No. But I threw up later.
I didn't fall down, I headed for Gordonston with everyone else. Around mile 10, I was very close to my Athens Half pace and delighted with that. Gordonston, like the industrial district; was out in force with their own homemade water stations, kids and adults running back and forth with cut apples, grapes, and oranges, and lots of cheering sections. When you're putting in the kind of effort we were that day, the support of the community is what pulls you through. The grapes help, but knowing someone took the initiative to show up with those grapes goes so much farther.
Out of Gordonston, down Anderson. This is where we separate the slightly mental from the fully committed (or need to be committed). The half marathoners head straight back toward Forsyth while we full marathoners turn on to Truman for part two.
Around mile 15.5, my parents were waiting for me. My mom ran with me for a quarter mile to let me know I was coming in right under 5 hours and see what I needed. I requested Chapstick, which she called ahead to my siblings at Savannah State University. Turning into the university, I had exactly what every runner needs- a fully stocked ultra crew ready to roll! My brother-in-law Blake had the camera rolling while my sister Lily paced me and my sister Tiffany took pictures, gave me Chapstick, filled my handheld water bottle, and restocked my Gu chomps. They put Will in charge of Kiwi and "base camp." Then they left me to run the back circles alone.
That's when the electrolyte imbalance hit. Hard. The chomps I'd trained with for months refused to go down. I remember actually talking to my stomach, saying "better in than out." My stomach responded. It rejected the chomp, the concept, the whole 9 yards. I jumped up on the sidewalk and threw up. Now, as those of you who have been following the blog know; I also threw up at the University of Georgia. Never while I was in school there, but definitely after the race. Now here I was throwing up at Savannah State. All I can say is that I hope the Jacksonville half runs near a college campus. It would be tragic to break the streak now.
Kasha!!!!
What, Kiwi? I'm in the middle of a blog!
I broke the app.
What? How do you break an app?
I dunno, but I did it.
Okay, everyone.
Your favorite electronic idiot needs attention. I'll pick back up tomorrow.
What?
It's been, like, a week since the marathon. Are you gonna post anything?
I got a new app.
So I'll be writing?
Yup.
Saturday the 3rd was the Rock and Roll Marathon benefiting the American Cancer Society here in Savannah, Ga. Last year I completed the full marathon in 6:03:25. This year I completed it in Awesome:Much:Faster. Okay, let's get to the story.
My sister Tiffany-
And Nu Blu!
Hush, Kiwi. My sister Tiffany and her phone "Nu Blu" dropped me off downtown at 6:30am. I walked a block to the start line and talked to some other runners. Competitor Group, a for-profit organization, does a great job with their events. Bathroom wait? Nada. Walked right up. And corrals? No problem. I just jumped into Corral 10 and headed for the start. I knew I picked the right one when our start music was Eye of the Tiger.
Off we go! Headed down Bay Street toward the industrial district. Let me state: these people rock! It's cold out and we're moving. They're standing there cheering their heads off with only jackets and coffee to keep them warm. I'm enjoying the crowds and the other runners more than my own music. Under I-16 & back downtown for more mileage, cheering crowds with some old school and some original signs, and the dreaded brick streets.
Did you fall down?
No. But I threw up later.
I didn't fall down, I headed for Gordonston with everyone else. Around mile 10, I was very close to my Athens Half pace and delighted with that. Gordonston, like the industrial district; was out in force with their own homemade water stations, kids and adults running back and forth with cut apples, grapes, and oranges, and lots of cheering sections. When you're putting in the kind of effort we were that day, the support of the community is what pulls you through. The grapes help, but knowing someone took the initiative to show up with those grapes goes so much farther.
Out of Gordonston, down Anderson. This is where we separate the slightly mental from the fully committed (or need to be committed). The half marathoners head straight back toward Forsyth while we full marathoners turn on to Truman for part two.
Around mile 15.5, my parents were waiting for me. My mom ran with me for a quarter mile to let me know I was coming in right under 5 hours and see what I needed. I requested Chapstick, which she called ahead to my siblings at Savannah State University. Turning into the university, I had exactly what every runner needs- a fully stocked ultra crew ready to roll! My brother-in-law Blake had the camera rolling while my sister Lily paced me and my sister Tiffany took pictures, gave me Chapstick, filled my handheld water bottle, and restocked my Gu chomps. They put Will in charge of Kiwi and "base camp." Then they left me to run the back circles alone.
That's when the electrolyte imbalance hit. Hard. The chomps I'd trained with for months refused to go down. I remember actually talking to my stomach, saying "better in than out." My stomach responded. It rejected the chomp, the concept, the whole 9 yards. I jumped up on the sidewalk and threw up. Now, as those of you who have been following the blog know; I also threw up at the University of Georgia. Never while I was in school there, but definitely after the race. Now here I was throwing up at Savannah State. All I can say is that I hope the Jacksonville half runs near a college campus. It would be tragic to break the streak now.
Kasha!!!!
What, Kiwi? I'm in the middle of a blog!
I broke the app.
What? How do you break an app?
I dunno, but I did it.
Okay, everyone.
Your favorite electronic idiot needs attention. I'll pick back up tomorrow.
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