Kasha and Kiwi Run The Georgia Marathon

Hi there. Kiwi and I survived the Georgia Marathon this past weekend and came out with very differing views on the experience. So we're going to write back and forth to let you know what we both thought. Remember, I (Kasha) type plainly. Kiwi gets the jazzed up italics.

On Saturday, we left my parents' house at 8:45 am. Clearly not early enough. A quick stop at Starbucks and a stop outside of Macon for lunch were our only detours. Turning onto I-75, 40 miles outside of Atlanta, traffic STOPPED. Stopped! I was so upset! Packet pick up ended at 6pm, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it! Traffic eventually began to crawl toward Atlanta and around 3pm I was downtown. But guess what? Atlanta has a St Patrick's Day parade, too. It begins at noon. So I hit the crowds, blocked off streets, and overworked cops as I tried to get to the Georgia Congress Center, which is about as downtown as you can get. Also, the directions provided BY THE RACE ORGANIZERS did not account for the closed off streets. So unless you just happened to know Atlanta, and I don't, you were lost. Oh, you also got to pay to pick up your packet. $8 after the $2 discount.

Hi. 'Is Kiwi. Is not Kasha's fault Atlanta traffic is outside Atlanta. She left soooooo early! I was still sleepy! And her two breaks were good! She needed to stretch her legs! I do not think it was nice to pay for packet pick up parking when races already cost a lot. And she was in tears with the parade mess. It was already a bad day. :(

So I navigated packet pick up and headed to Mel & Rob's house. With the one-way street, I circled the building 3 times before I figured out how to get in. Visitor parking? They have it, but if it is full, you just have to go to a pay lot. It made more sense to me to wait and see if anyone left. Sure enough, someone did and I was able to take my things inside, already late for our 5pm dinner. We walked to Tin Lizzie's and waited about 20 minutes. The food was great, and I LOVED hearing what Mel & Rob have been up to. I haven't seen them since their wedding last year. A walk back home and early to bed (9ish) for me!

I'm glad she found visitor parking because walking down the street with all her stuff would have been bad for her legs. And Tin Lizzie's thought we would wait much longer with the crowd. That was good that we didn't. There was loud music, and that drained Kasha, but she had fun. Thank goodness she got to see her friends this weekend! They walked a lot because in Atlanta, you walk! That added up to not good for race day.

Sunday morning, around 4am, I could hear the mile 23 water station begin set up. It was right below the condo! I lay in bed until 5:30 then got ready to go. .75 miles to MARTA, and it took 2 machines before I figured out how to buy a pass! I got the pass and headed down to the train. Then to the start line, another .75 miles away, where it took a full 20 minutes to get to my corral. I found the pace group and settled in. My plan was to run the first half with the 5 hour pace group, then speed up for a negative split. The leaders said they "would run a steady pace." To me, that meant 11:25 miles. Easy, especially if someone else is measuring it. ...but that's not what they meant. They were Gallowalkers. Jeff Galloway is a coach who teaches run-walk-run. That gets a lot of people across the finish line. But if you haven't trained for it, run-walk-run ruins your stamina. Their "steady" was run three minutes, walk one minutes. I tried to do that. But pushing hard up hills and walking down hills was a waste of my energy and it destroyed my race mentally and physically. By mile 4, I was in bad shape.

Yeah. Sounds about right. Walking to MARTA and to the race were bad because she was using up her running energy! The start line was at Centennial Park. It was huge and she felt lost and hated it. Steady pace? No way. Kasha ALWAYS runs the first hour of a half marathon and the first 2 hours of a full marathon and this walk run walk was awful. She tried, because sticking with the pace group was her strategy, but it was wrong for her and bad for her race. At the mile 4 water station, she went off on her own. At mile 7.5 the 9,000 half marathoners split off from the 1,832 full marathoners and Kasha could think. She did not have music, because she planned to be with the group. So she ran. She walked when she hurt. And she ran a lot more. At the half point, she was at a 2:38. This wasn't terrible and she kept going.

But then my feet hurt. Like, really hurt. Not marathon hurt. Hurt injured hurt. So I walked. And I calculated. 7 hour time limit. ....can I finish if I walk? I divided the miles by the time. I would finish with a 6:50. So the new game became "how much under 7 hours can I finish."

Didja talk about the blood?

No.

I will!!

Kasha was sick. Just sinuses, but that meant lots of running noses. And runners blow snot out all the time. But being sick, it was so thick, it just clung to her. Her arms, her shirt and shorts, and her legs. It was bloody. So she had blood on her sleeves and shorts. The temperature was warm, but the high buildings made lots of shade. She never warmed up and had goosebumps most of the race. It was bad.

More miles, more pain, more blood, no tears. The tears were yesterday at packet pick up. Wait! Not quite! When people screamed, I cried. It hurt my ears and I didn't have anything to block them out with. It's not cute to yell "Almost there!" at mile 3 and it's not cute to scream at the top of your lungs to people in physical pain.

She hurt. She could have quit and it would have been reasonable. But she stress fractured her brain and kept going. We saw pretty stuff. But the weekend was sucking the fun out of marathons for Kasha. 

Past Georgia Tech, toward the finish line. This is Atlanta, there's no such thing as "one more hill." There is always another hill. I was pretty sure both feet were injured. Through the finish line, the medical tent was placed before medal. NO! NO NO NO! I. WANT. MY. MEDAL. AND I WANT IT NOWWWWWW!

She wanted her medal, and she wanted it now. 

I walked past medical, figuring I could ice my foot with my medal and that if I took my shoes off I might not get them back on. Medal, food tent, toward MARTA. Some nice local pointed me toward a hidden elevator that went directly down to MARTA where the sweet, sweet citizens of Atlanta moved to give me a seat by the door.

She's kinda on a roll, but I know we crossed the finish line at 6:07:02. Worst finish time ever. And she forgot to tell you she saw Rob & Mel at the mile 23 station. That helped her be happy.

I hobbled back to Mel & Rob's and took a shower. I lay down for a few minutes before driving home. Both feet were swollen. I expected stress fractures in both. I stopped at Cracker Barrel-

CRACKER BARREL!!!!!!

Yeah. Kiwi hadn't been. He clearly liked it. But we stopped there, where I looked VERY hung over getting to the door. But chicken and dumplings were enough to keep me going. Home to Savannah, sleep, work, sleep, repeat. Sunday night, I couldn't walk. I'm not exaggerating. I crawled. My feet couldn't hold my weight. Monday, the left one was fine. By Wednesday, the right one was fine. But then I had to deal with the brain stress fracture.



....as you can see, there are two views on this race. I thought it was horrible. I hated it. Kiwi thinks I did the best I could and adjusted as I had to. So then we started talking about the year of marathons. It is harder to find races in the summer months because of the heat. Sure, I can fly somewhere and pay a lot of money. That would keep up the Race A Month deal.

But. That's. Not. Fun. What is Rule #1?

....if you aren't having fun, you're doing it wrong.

So you gotta only run happy fun races. 

But I only need to fill May, June, and July!

Why fill them if they are icky? Run the June race you found the other day THAT LOOKS LIKE FUN, and don't worry about May and July.

But that's not a race a month! That's how we set this up! A race a month for a year!

Are you gonna quit running after The Year?

No.

Who wrote the rules?

Me.

Unwrite them.

Unwrite them?

May is gonna be 7th inning stretch! 

Can we do that?

I'm a talking fone. 

....can do anything I feel like. Is your year. Can do anything you feel like.

Show them the picture of icing your foot with the medal, and let them offer ideas.

Ok. Here you go:

So readers, what do you think?? Should we hold the original course as Kasha says and keep at a race a month, or should we Kiwi the plan and see what happens? Let us know! 

Kasha AND KIWI.

The Best Bad Run

There are 2 kinds of bad runs.

The one where everything goes wrong (stomach problems, wrong clothes, bad weather, dogs, puddles, cars), and the one where nothing is wrong.

Confused yet?

The first one is great. A run with any of those problems teaches you how to handle those things. They're only an issue the first time. After that, old news. They aren't really the makings of a bad run, but the ingredients of a great runner.

But the second one....

Nothing goes wrong in this version. This is the best bad run there is. Let me explain...

On Sunday (7 days from now) I will run the Georgia Marathon in Atlanta. Excited? Yes. Prepared? About as prepared as Kiwi and I were for the Beach Bum Tri. In the beginning Kiwi pointed out that consistent training is not my strong point. He's right. I go for days, even weeks without a run. Then I feel guilty, a case of the Should Have Gone Runnings. (Also called "Think what you could do if you actually tried!") Remember Augusta? 16 days ago? That was my last run.

Yup. Really.

I'm running a marathon on Sunday.

Yup. Really.

So I just got back from a run. The Best Bad Run.

2.06 miles (3.32km). 19:32 minutes. 9:28 min/mi.

That's it. A bitty baby run.

I was winded. I was thirsty. I felt heavy. Because you can't fake a run. Once you're out there, the run will show you where you are. That can be the bad part. A lack of training will show. Better training will show. There's no hiding (or running) from a run. For 2 miles my brain would not shut off. My breathing was steady but hard. The humidity hung on me. There was nothing graceful in this, nothing record-breaking was achieved.

Stupid bad run...


...that was exactly what I needed.

It wasn't a race. There was no music. There were no spectators. I could hear how loud my thoughts were, drawing my attention inward and letting me know I needed more thinking time in the coming weeks. I could remember the early days of running. Wake, sleepily putting on running clothes, wake up by mile 2. It was an absolute in my schedule. I was a runner, no question. Then racing entered my world and I got caught up in the bright lights of that world. Brightly colored shirts! Shiny medals! Gu and unlimited coffee!

...whatever. I love racing and am very excited about this weekend's event. Will I run again before then? Probably. But not to prepare. I'll run because that bad run I just had reminded me that while I race, I am a Runner. I need the miles, I require the endorphin surge, and I am better for it. Racing events are just that. Events. The daily get-out-the-door is what makes a Runner. I got away from that until today, when my body overrode my brain and walked out the door and took off.

In the last blog post, there were some great responses to the question Why Do You Run? So I suppose this is mine. It is necessary. I run to keep my endorphins balanced. To feel healthy and to be strong.

I run because even the best bad run beats no run at all.

Why Do You Run?

Any runner can vouch:

You get brilliant ideas on the run.

These range from, "I'm gonna throw the best dog birthday ever!" and "This has GOT to be the best method for sock organization!" all the way to "Get the president on the phone! I've got the fiscal crisis solved!"

...it just happens.

So somewhere between miles 2-4 of the Augusta Half I began to ponder the following question.

Why Do I Run?

At the time (remember; miles 2-4 of a race) I came up with the following answers for why I run:

For the safety pins.

Because smelling this bad this frequently requires an excuse.

My toenails look better with bruises. Or just missing.

Driving 6 miles an hour upsets others on the road.

Because heroin is frowned upon.

Donald Trump changed his pin number. Again.

I consider cake pops a balanced breakfast.


As you can see, I went for the one line, quick answers, nothing deep. I'll leave that to you.


So readers, why do you run? And for those who don't; why not?

For the nonrunners, here's one of my favorites to get you started:

I might spill my drink.


Kiwi and I look forward to your reasons in the comment section. Humorous, serious, and in between all welcome!

13.1 Lessons From The Month of Many Mini Marathons

I decided to run a half or a full every month for a year. That's the story of this blog and for (my) year 29, it's been the story of me. But what started out as an addition to my world has morphed into becoming the whole of my world. My days and weeks revolve around my races. And that's fine, but February taught me a few things I didn't know about myself and confirmed some I had suspicions on.

13.1 Lessons From The Month of Many Mini Marathons

1) I can handle an infinitely detailed schedule. That wasn't always the case. I used to get stressed when I had more than 3 things a day. Now I can go weeks at a time with sleep as the only in-between and come out fine on the other end.

2) I can keep up with racing, traveling for races, training clients, writing articles for the newspaper, teaching classes, playing nanny to some really great kids, house and dog sitting, reading 2.5 books a week, and a blog all at once. I used to be able to put off a blog update for a month. ...I had until the next race. February taught me to get it done within days of an event, as 100 hits a day will fade if you aren't writing frequently enough.

3) I can check into a hotel by myself. Laugh if you want, but it's something I've always hated, along with finding my way through an unknown city. It wasn't being alone; hotels and cities were just such grown up things and I hated being the grown up. Now, no problem. To some extent I have Kiwi and Otto (my gps, get it? Auto... Otto...) to thank for this, but these fears are no longer an issue. I can get to packet pick ups and hotels and go site seeing and anything else. I may not be the most confident, but it's a huge improvement from just a few years ago.

4) I can run any race. Cold (Tybee), unexpected terrain (Hilton Head), a different style (Daytona), or coming back after feeling unnerved by an earlier hard race combined with difficult terrain (Augusta). It isn't hard to stretch "I can run any race" into "I can handle any unforeseen."

5) I can see past the immediate to the long term goal. Sitting in the car waiting to run Augusta and the long drive back from Daytona both gave me dangerous time to feel the physical and mental stress of what I was doing. The long miles running, the long miles driving, the extreme temperatures. These took a mental toll that came out as "I don't want to do this." But a littler voice, slightly Kiwi-like reminded me, "You're tired. You DO want to do this, and you can rest after... with your medals and new stories."

6) A perfect race is not limited to a PR. Tybee was a course PR. I've fought this course for 3 years now. That was a hard-earned victory. Hilton Head gave me a bridge when I didn't expect one. That sent me flying to my new overall PR. Daytona showed me I can race without competing, even with myself. That you have to enjoy the journey. And Augusta taught me I can finish anything I set out to accomplish. Just commit to see it through to the end. That whole "they don't move the finish line" thing.

7) Anything becomes normal when you do it enough. 3 years ago I was running 5ks every weekend. This month it was 13.1 miles. But my body adjusted. Some weeks I ran in between, others I didn't; just the same as before. And you know what? Every weekend, my legs just kind of got it. "Today is long day." It became my normal.

8) I can live out of a suitcase. When I left Saturday morning for Daytona, I wasn't home again until the Sunday after Augusta. It has been a long time since I've kept pace with life while living out of a suitcase.

9) The fastest runners in the world run exactly the same as the slowest. One foot in front of the other. And on race day, those two groups cover the same distance. They are exactly the same. ...there's a moral in there, but for now; we'll leave it with those poetic undertones.

10) I can To-Do List like no one else. If it's on paper, I can make it happen. Period. If I have coffee and Kiwi, it happens even quicker.

11) Completing 4 half marathons in 23 days makes me eligible for membership in the Half Fanatics at Jupiter (4 moon) Level, & I have already received an invitation. It also makes me (and Kiwi) eligible for our once a month Treat. ...we haven't decided what the Treat will be, but we earned it!

12) That while I would opt out of social media, I can manage Twitter (@TheKashaShow) and even a facebook fan page and keep them up-to-date with a-race-a-week and fitness tips and Kiwi commentary.

13) I can run 13.1 miles on Sunday, drive 3-4 hours, and teach a fully interactive kettle bell strength training class on Monday with no one able to tell I'm already at my physical limit. Because by the second week; my body had adjusted.

.1) 6 half marathons, 1 full marathon, 1 ultra, and we've just finished month 5. Originally; I would have raced 235.8 miles this year. But we're already at 135.8. That leaves 4 fulls and 3 halves to go, assuming we stick to the plan.

Finish Chute) Why stick to the plan when we can keep making it better?

So We Went To Augusta

This past Saturday, Kiwi and I headed to Augusta, Ga. About 3 hours north of Savannah; Georgia Regents University and American Family Insurance were hosting the Augusta Half and 10k. My friend Erin is finishing up her last weeks (!!!!) of medical school and we needed a race. Perfect timing!

A rainy, but uneventful drive got us to Augusta and packet pick up. It was cold, but the organizers were friendly. They made sure I knew where to park the following day and how to get there with street closings. Goody bags? Oh yes! Long sleeve gray (I LOVE gray!) tech shirt, reusable bag, hot/cold gel packs, hand sanitizer, Starbucks coffee, sunglasses, and a collapsible water bottle were included. Way to welcome your runners!

Course set up room...
no one sees this part of the crazy.









Kiwi and I navigated through the expo then headed to Erin's house. We spent the evening catching up, watching tv, and making sure her dog's bones smelled like us for when he was scheduled to return on Wednesday.

Early Sunday (6 am) I got up and headed for the race start. No problem finding it. But I didn't realize until then what a toll the cold had taken on me from Daytona. I was tired. I was stiff. And I was in awe that this month had flown by.

...but that's another post....

I headed to the start line, hoping for a short bathroom line. No luck there, but next to the lines were a group of way-too-cheerful-for-the-weather men asking, "hot cocoa or coffee?" American Family Insurance sent its friendliest faces out with a coffee truck! Wow! Free coffee while in porta potty line? ...what a huge happy runner thing!

After that I headed to the corral. I knew there was a wheelchair division, but only one racer entered. I found him and walked up. I have plans to race with a friend who uses a chair soon, and this young man and his mother were more than happy to offer suggestions and information on doing just that.

Brain and tummy full, we started the race. 2 miles into downtown Augusta the chalk scribbles and kids with signs began;

"If it was easy, it would be called your mom."
"You've trained for this longer than Kim Kardashian was married."
"Worst. Parade. Ever."
"Just Keep Swimming!"
"Run like you stole something!"

...the just keep swimming sign was accompanied by kids blowing bubbles.

I love this stuff!

Onward!!!

Walton... one of the l-o-n-g streets we ran down, we ran up, we whined about. Walton had hills that went straight up, curved around corners and kept going. I'm not making this up. It felt like mountains. I was simultaneously glad to have a 3 week break before the Georgia Marathon and to have a refresher on hills. Up and down we went, then out to the river. It was beautiful and the volunteers were in great moods. That always helps.

At mile 11 I was a little sad. This was the end of the race and the end of The Month of Many Mini Marathons. There wouldn't be a PR today, but no reason to quit. I ran with what I had left and made it across the finish line.

2:18:39

Not bad. I hadn't raced the hills since Athens in October and that was a 2:17. The medals were great and the after-party was well stocked with plenty of space to sit down and get out of my compression sleeves.

Back to Erin's house! I slept for a bit before we headed out to lunch to catch up some more and plan some future races. She has finished a 5k, is up to 6 miles, and looking toward a half in April. It is just a matter of picking the one to do...

Then we headed home.

Are you sure?

Um, yes. We've been home since Sunday night, Kiwi. We're in Savannah. That's home last I checked.

Is not. 

You're gonna have to explain. I don't understand.

Savannah's where we keep our stuff. Start lines are home. Finish lines are home. And you're not racing for 3 weeks. So you're by your stuff. But you raced all the weekends of a month and now you aren't gonna race for almost a month. That doesn't sound like home to me. That sounds like bad.

So not racing after lots of racing is like not being at home?

Yeah. But you'll figure it out. You will find little bitty baby race homes before the next big race. Or...

Or what?

Or we just put you in a crazy home. Cause that would happen.



....so then we headed home.

Kasha and Kiwi Attend Speedweeks at Daytona

"Hey there, pretty lady. You here for the races?"
"Yeah. I'm in one of them."

-In the hotel, Saturday.



So when we left off, I was finishing up the race. After playing around on the track for a while, we wandered over to the finishers' area where the race officials had quite a spread out for us. Water, beer, bananas, bagels, donuts, chicken, bbq, pizza, and more. I watched Nicole's friend get his age group award then headed for the hotel. I had under 10 minutes to shower and check out, but they comped me a late departure. I packed up and planned to head for Savannah. Time trials didn't start for 2 hours.

...but I found myself navigating back onto Williamson, back toward Gate 40...

Re-entering the speedway, the two gentlemen checking tickets exclaimed, "Oh! You're one of the runners! Let me tell you what your ticket includes!"

Yes, I was one of the runners. And Daytona Half made sure we were included! I headed back down the tunnel...

Again, infield parking and a 3 minute walk to the Sprint fan zone where I watched crew and drivers lineup for inspections.




















Then I headed back to Gatorade Victory Lane for more photos.

 And decided to head out toward the grand stands that you see in the back of the next photo.

I caught the tram out and found a great seat in time to watch Danica Patrick win the pole. The fans spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for someone to beat her. I spent the afternoon watching each car pull out of pit road, make two laps and head back in. I could see everything!

I lasted until about 2:30, seeing 36 drivers attempt qualifying times. There were about 10 more to go, but it was time to head home. Kiwi and I were both exhausted. We stopped for barbecue and a milk shake somewhere just over the Georgia/Florida line.

Did we run fast? No... 2:25:10

Did we have fun? YES!

This race was the first of its kind for us. Running and enjoying the history, the photo ops, and meeting other runners.

We loved it!

Yeah. Now she wants to go run in Charlotte, North Carolina on that race track and Churchill Downs so she can say she raced there too. 

Yes, Kiwi. Yes I do. Because we need more pictures like this.