Art Van Turkey Trot Chicago 8K Race Recap

I decided once again that getting up early on Thanksgiving sounded better than sleeping in and that running an organized race would be more fun than running on my own, so I kicked off my Thursday at the Art Van Turkey Trot Chicago 8K!


It was COLD Thursday morning (well, not compared to what they had on the East Coast), so I got to the race about 15 minutes before it began to minimize the amount of time I had to stand outside. Even though the race is fairly large (it sold out with 8,000 registrants), there isn’t a whole lot of corralling that goes on here. The race is divided into two waves: those who plan to run a 9:59/mile or faster, and those who don’t (including those who plan to walk the distance), but it’s up to you to self-seed within those waves and their corresponding minute/mile corrals. As you can imagine at a family-focused holiday event, that has mixed results at best.


I lined up in the back of the 8:00/mile corral, since that’s roughly what I “wanted” to run on Thursday. I say “wanted” because I didn’t really have anything in mind in terms of goals. I knew from last year that the first mile or so would be bonkers with crowding, and I didn’t even bother to look up my time from 2017 to avoid putting undue pressure on myself.

As expected, the first mile of the race was ridiculous. I did my best to remain patient, since I’m sure plenty of people who show up to this race don’t run any other races all year, and those who came to actually race lined up in the 7:00/mile corral anyway. It’s meant to be a fun event, and that’s fine! I think it’s great that people want to start their holiday that way!

HOWEVER. I only had so much patience (and by “so much” I mean “very little”) for the fully grown, almost certainly literate adults who seemed to view the gigantic signs that announced corral paces as suggestions rather than directions. I understand that if you only run a handful of times per year, you might not have a good concept of what 8:00/mile means. Surely–surely–though, if you are a fully grown, almost certainly literate adult, you MUST know that 8:00/mile does not mean casual walking, right?! I have no problem with people who signed up for the race with the intention of run/walking (as long as they had the intention of doing so at an overall 8:00-8:59 pace if they lined up in the 8:00/mile corral). I also have no problem with adults who ended up walking because they ran with their children, who shot out of the start line only to find themselves exhausted 400 meters later. I also have no problem with anyone, adult or child, who signed up for the race with the intention of walking the entire distance. All of those situations are 100 percent okay. What’s not okay is when adults who clearly never planned to run a step of the race–like, wearing a full blown parka clearly never planned to run a step of the race–line up in the 8:00/mile corral and then stroll the course! Come on, people! We got emails nearly every day leading up to the race that specifically said that Wave 2 was meant for walkers! If you’re going to walk the whole thing, follow the instructions and line up where you’re supposed to!


The big advantage of running the 8K at this event is that you get to (briefly) ditch the 5K participants around mile two, and that the 8K has a substantially smaller field than the 5K. The course opened up as soon as the 5Kers turned off, and I literally breathed a sigh of relief at all the newfound space I had. I was even more relieved when I finally hit the first aid station, which for the 8K wasn’t until just before mile three (!?!). That was a lot longer than I wanted to go without water, especially since I overdressed (of course).

The big disadvantage of running the 8K is that you have to join up with the 5K participants again with about a mile or so to go in the race. The course was the same as last year, so at least I knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. I ended up tailing a guy from the 8K who passed me right after we reunited with the 5K, letting him make all the strategic decisions of how to best bob and weave through the crowds while following in the wake he left. Fortunately, this is only really bad for a half mile or so, until you go through the Barry Underpass and get into more open territory.

By that point, though, the damage had been done in the pace department (the damage had really been done after my lackluster 9:20 first mile), and I crossed the finish line in 45:30 for a resounding personal worst in the 8K. I’m not too upset about it since I didn’t have any expectations going into the race in the first place (I’m more upset that my watch said 45:26 while my official results said 45:30. I’m used to a second or two of discrepancy between my watch time and official time, but not four seconds!). I got my 10,000 steps for the day in before feasting, which was my only real goal 😛

The post-race party was just as awesome as last year, though moderately less enjoyable (for me) because it was so cold. That’s not Lifetime’s fault, though. I did get in my turkey bowling, and a photographer I know Lifetime uses for some of its advertising collateral took a picture of me bowling, so perhaps I will, at long last, realize my dream of ending up in a race ad (my real dream is ending up in a Chicago Marathon ad, but I don’t wear enough Nike to make that happen). Based on the fact that the website currently only uses photos of the actual race, it might be a stretch, but one can hope. Regardless, I got my mini pumpkin pies, which is as good of a reason as any to run this race as far as I’m concerned.


All in all, a good way to start Thanksgiving. I don’t know if I’ll be in town to do this race next year, but I think it’s a great city option if you’re looking for a local turkey trot.




Allstate Hot Chocolate 15K Race Recap

I ran the Allstate Hot Chocolate 15K on Sunday, logging my first 15K (in a race setting) in the process.

Like I said a couple of weeks ago, there are multiple reasons why I had never run Hot Chocolate. Timing was a big one, since the race falls soon after the Chicago Marathon. The bigger reason, though, is Hot Chocolate’s reputation for royally screwing things up. It’s been years since the debacle that was Hot Chocolate D.C., and while that was likely Hot Chocolate’s biggest screw-up, when I was more actively involved in the behind-the-scenes part of the Chicago running world, Hot Chocolate Chicago was also notorious for having nightmare packet pickup situations. I have very little patience for races that can’t get their act together, and even less patience for races that can’t get their act together when they’re put on by a for-profit company whose only purpose is to put on races (i.e.: RAM), so I thought it would likely be in my best interest to stay away.

However, I am not immune to the siren song of cool race swag. I started toying with the idea of running Hot Chocolate last year, and started taking that idea more seriously at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Chicago expo when I saw the race’s sweatshirt for the first time.


I LOVED it, so at that moment I decided if I could make it through the marathon in one piece, I’d sign up for Hot Chocolate.

I have no idea how the expo was this year, because my cousin was in town at the end of last week for a conference at McCormick Place and offered to pick up my packet for me to save me the trip. He didn’t seem to have any complaints, though, so I guess it must’ve been fine. The contents, however, were less than helpful:


That is a zip tie that has already been zip tied. Good luck getting that to attach your gear check tag to your gear check bag!

Another small detail that was perhaps not messed up, but certainly confusing? My packet came in an plastic, opaque white drawstring bag. Additionally, other participants did get clear plastic bags for their packets. I also saw some people with black plastic packet bags. What gives?? The gear check rules online specifically indicated that I needed to use a clear plastic bag for gear check. If you’re going to require that I use a clear plastic bag for gear check, then you need to provide a clear plastic bag for gear check, like every other race that has that requirement.


Please note the line at the end about the zip ties, too.

The forecast had called for rain on Sunday all week, so I was pleased to wake up to dry skies. It was fairly chilly and quite windy, though. I donned my Goodwill throwaways and headed out the door around 5:45 for the 7 a.m. start.

I know Hot Chocolate usually has oodles of participants (there were 29,702 timed finishers on Sunday. For those of you keeping score at home, this year’s Shamrock Shuffle had 20,899 finishers. Based on that, I would like to reiterate my belief the Bank of America should sell the Shuffle to RAM: a company much better suited to put on a race like the Shuffle.), so I wanted to arrive with plenty of time to check my gear and use the portapotties. As it turned out, there were ample portapotties for the size of the race, and I waited less than five minutes to get into one (a non-smelly one, no less!). I will certainly give Hot Chocolate credit for that. If I had to pick between an unusable zip tie and plenty of portapotties, I’d pick the portapotties every time.

15K gear check was quite a hike from the Wave One start corrals, but I got to my corral with 15 minutes to spare. I found myself a nice spot on the leftover blue line (not that it mattered, since this obviously wasn’t the marathon) and watched the pre-race ceremony on a video board they had right by the start line. The race supports Make-a-Wish, and they had a couple Make-a-Wish kids up on stage with their parents to talk about what the foundation means to them. One of the kids wants to skate with the Blackhawks, so they brought Tommy Hawk up on stage and had Jim Cornelison sing the National Anthem! That was really cool. They also used the board to display race etiquette, both for runners and runners with children, and to show how the 5K would split from the 15K. I thought it was excellent use of technology, and something other large races should definitely consider using.


And then we were off! Hot Chocolate involves a lot of running in the Loop (if you do the 5K, you run almost exclusively in the Loop) and used a different course than the usual Loop-based races, which I enjoyed as a nice change of pace (heh puns). While we’re on the topic of the course, though, I would like to air my biggest grievance with Hot Chocolate: the online course map.


This is what was provided in the online participant guide: the only place I could find a course map for the race. At first glance, it looks just fine. Shows you the start/finish lines, shows you where you’re going to run, shows you all the race courses, even includes a detail with the 5K/15K split: what more could you want?

I don’t know, maybe mile markers? And while we’re at it, aid station locations?

COME. ON. I complained about Rock ‘n’ Roll’s bizzaro map issues back in July, but this makes Rock ‘n’ Roll look like they had their act together. I’d rather have misplaced mile markers on the course map than no mile markers at all! It especially bothered me that they didn’t put the aid stations on the online course map. I fuel every five miles for runs seven miles or longer, which meant I needed to fuel during this race. Because no one at RAM could be bothered to give us any information on the location of aid stations, neither in the participant guide nor in the course map, I had to carry my water bottle for the whole run to ensure I’d have water to chase my chews at mile five. As it turned out, there was an aid station at like mile 4.8, which would’ve been MORE than sufficient for my fueling needs.

Did this completely screw up my race, a race I only needed to finish to PR? Of course not. The miles were all marked on the course, which is all I really needed. It didn’t put in me in danger or anything serious like that. But like I said after Rock ‘n’ Roll, the devil is in the details when it comes to these sorts of things, and when you combine it with the other detail-related issues (a pre-zipped zip tie, an opaque bag), all of those little problems make RAM look sloppy, especially when there are other event management companies that get every detail right, every single time. If all you do is organize races, you should be getting every detail right, every single time. Period.


As it turned out, the primary challenge of Hot Chocolate was not running blind in terms of mile markers or aid stations, nor was it having a pre-zipped zip tie, nor was it having to find a clear bag for my gear: it was the wind. Holy cow, the wind. There were 18 mph winds out of the southeast for the duration of the race, and you know the only two directions you run between emerging from Lower Wacker around mile one all the way through mile 6.a little change? South and east. Oof. Hot Chocolate marked the first time in my running career where I saw used aid station cups before I got the the aid station, because the wind was so strong downtown that it blew the cups up the course. It was nuts, and I was very thankful that we only had wind to deal with, not wind and rain.

The course was definitely one of the more unique ones I’ve run in the city. Not only did it not follow the typical Columbus-to-Grand-to-State Street route, but it was hilly by Chicago standards?? That’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d write, but there were a bunch of inclines on the course: up to get off of Lower Wacker, up to get onto the 35th St. pedestrian bridge at the southernmost portion of the course, up to get off the Lakefront Trail onto Fort Dearborn Drive, up from a dip around Soldier Field, up to get back up onto Columbus for the finish. It was quite the experience for a Chicago race!

I finished in 1:34:33, which was perfectly fine by me. I hoped to run close to a 10:00 pace and ended up averaging a 10:09. No complaints here. I’m ran a steady pace for most of the race (my 5K and 10K splits were both 10:14 exactly) and felt like I ran comfortably hard for all 9.3 miles.

The real highlight of the event, of course, is the post-race chocolate (there was also candy at the aid stations, but I skipped most of that). The finisher’s mug is really something else:


Yes. Please.

It started to rain a little after I got my mug, but it didn’t seem feasible to travel with it, given the chocolate fondue situation. I certainly wasn’t about to let any of my treats to go waste, so I chowed down while watching the awards ceremony. Everything was just as delicious and wonderful as I hoped it would be!


I don’t expect that I’ll do Hot Chocolate again, mostly because I don’t expect that it’ll be as convenient for me as it was this year moving forward. I’m glad I gave it a shot, though, and that I got a super comfortable, well-fitting zip-up sweatshirt out of it 🙂


What’s Next

Normally after the marathon, I’m more than ready for a break. I’m tired of the time commitment of running, the early mornings, the late nights, the never-ending list of extracurriculars that come along with running (cross training, stretching, foam rolling, PT exercises, etc.). I want to be done.

This year was different. I could barely make it through my off-week after the marathon, when I refuse to exercise at all (other than my Tuesday dance class). I was itching to lace up my Asics, and it felt so good to get back out there last Monday. I’m still riding a post-marathon high and want to run all of the miles on all of the days! Run! Run! Run!

Fortunately, my plans for the rest of the year line up nicely with my desire to keep running. Last year, getting through the remainder of my race season after the marathon was a serious grind. I’m hoping that my current enthusiasm for running will keep those feelings away this year, because I have a lot left on my calendar.

Up next: Hot Chocolate! Would you believe that I’ve lived in Chicago for close to six and a half years, have been actively involved in the running community that entire time, but have never run Hot Chocolate? (Probably, if you’ve been reading my blog that long and/or have stalked my past race recaps.) I planned to run 10 miles that weekend regardless, so I figured I may as well run 9.3 in the Hot Chocolate 15K and get a reward for doing closet to what I intended to do in the first place. Plus, I’ve never run a 15K before, so as long as I finish, I’ll PR. If any of you have any interest in running Hot Chocolate, they started a referral program for this year’s event the day after I signed up (naturally). If you use my code, I get $5 and you save $5. Everyone wins!

Why did I plan to run 10 miles that weekend? Because the following weekend, I will once again be running the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas Half Marathon. This is perhaps a little surprising, given how after last year’s race I swore that I would never, EVER do it again, but here we are. This year, I have much more realistic expectations. I know it’ll be embarrassingly difficult. I know it’s at a terrible time of day. I know my sleep and nutrition and hydration will be a disaster going into the run, not to mention how off they’ll likely be during the run itself. I know that it’s very unlikely that I’ll break 2:30 due to all of those conditions. I assume knowing all of these things will help me enjoy the run a lot more–or at least, enjoy it as much as one can possibly enjoy a late afternoon 13.1 mile run through the desert.

I would like to do a turkey trot in some capacity on Thanksgiving, though the exact details of that (distance, location) are still up in the air. While I didn’t like getting up early on Thanksgiving to do a turkey trot last year, I did like exercising (and being rewarded for it–clearly a theme in this post 😛 ) before spending the rest of the day eating. Since the city and what feels like every single suburb offer turkey trots, I’m not too concerned about finding one.

In December, I’ll do my annual 5K. I expect that this will be my last year doing that race, so I’m hoping to walk away with an age group award. I’ve placed in my age group every time I’ve run this race in an even year (2012, 2014, and 2016), and I’d certainly like to keep that streak alive! I’d be happy to turn in a nice time at this race, too, but my only real concern is how I do compared to the other women between the ages of 25 and 29. I don’t care if I run a 35:00 5K as long as the fourth fastest 25-29 year old woman runs a 35:01.

One of the most unexpected things that came out of marathon season was my newfound interest in strength training. While it wouldn’t be entirely accurate to say that I enjoyed getting up close to an hour earlier than normal three times per week all summer long to go to the gym before work, I did enjoy being at the gym, and I definitely enjoyed how strong it made me. I also enjoyed how amazing it made my legs look, and I will fully own up to the fact that a big part of my motivation to continue strength training comes from my desire to continue having kickass legs. Sorry not sorry. I want to keep up (or rather, get back into, since I haven’t been to the gym at all since the Thursday before the marathon) that routine, even if it means regular two-a-days while I’m actively training for a race. The pros (increased overall strength, increased confidence, increased discipline, decreased running injuries) strongly outweigh the cons (getting up early), so it’s a worthwhile endeavor as far as I’m concerned.

I have one last thing I want to accomplish with running while I still have the flexibility to train on my terms: breaking 2:00 in the half marathon. While I have come close-ish to breaking 2:00 twice (a 2:02:50 and a 2:05:19), it’s been awhile (2014 and 2016, respectively), and I honestly consider breaking 2:00 to be as audacious of a goal as running a 4:45 marathon. But hey! I just did that! I can do hard things!

Across the 17 half marathons I’ve run, my average time is 2:19:18. If you throw out all the ridiculously hot half marathons I’ve done (three), my average drops to 2:16:33, and if you throw out all of the just-for-fun half marathons I’ve done (four), focusing only on the ones where I was actually trying, my average drops to 2:12:14. So let’s say that, when I care, I can run a 2:12 half marathon. That’s still a ways from 1:59:59. Then again, prior to two weeks ago, my average marathon time was 5:07:02, and that’s even farther from 4:45 (22 minutes) than 2:12 is from 1:59 (13 minutes), so maybe I shouldn’t get down on the myself and the “impossibility” of running 1:59:59 quite yet.

Regardless, I know that breaking 2:00 is not going to be easy. It will require the same dedication to training that I had this past marathon season, where getting in every run, every cross training session, every strength training workout is my #1 priority. No excuses. Throughout marathon season, I said that I did not want to miss 4:45 because I didn’t train hard enough to make it happen, and that’s the same mentality I plan to use in my efforts to break 2:00 in the half. If it doesn’t work out, so be it. Sometimes it’s just not your day, and you can’t do anything about it. But I don’t want it to not work out because I threw in the towel in training.

I know it’ll need to be cold, so right now, I have my eye on either F3 in January (where I ran my 2:05 in 2016) or the Chi Town Half in April (where I ran my 2:02 in 2014). If I do F3, training will start on Nov. 5, so my offseason will have to wait until after the race. I will admit that it makes me nervous to jump into intense training again less than a month after the marathon (and to try to do intense training during the holidays), so I’m not quite decided yet (though I’ll need to make a decision soon!). I’m open to any input from the peanut gallery!

So that’s the plan for the next few months. After that, things are still a little up in the air at this exact moment in time, butttttt…I’m probably going to do another marathon next fall >.< I KNOW, I KNOW. I said I was done. And I am done, at least as far as intense training goes, at least for now. I know that marathon training won’t be able to be my top priority next summer. I put a lot of things on the back burner to accommodate marathon training being my top priority this summer, and it won’t be possible to do that two years in a row. Besides, I’ve accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish with the distance (well, I suppose I’d like to qualify for Boston, but since I’m 1:12 (that’s hours:minutes) away from a BQ, obviously that’s not going to happen without really, really, really intense training, haha), so I feel like it’s more reasonable to expect myself to be able to train to run just for fun rather than to train for a goal.

But. I really, truly enjoy the process of training for a marathon. I’ve said that dozens of times before, and this past summer confirmed that. Yes, it can be a grind when you’re in the thick of it–the 90-degrees-and-humid afternoon runs, the 4:30 Saturday alarms–but at the end of the day, I love working towards a not-too-distant goal and I love following a structured plan to get there. I also really liked the girls I ran with this year. Changing training locations and paces made a world of difference in my experience this year vs. last year, and I felt like I developed some good friendships that I’d like to maintain next summer (especially since I know both of my friends plan to run again next year). Right now, I’m thinking that I’ll register for Chicago (since I have a guaranteed entry) and enter the New York lottery just to see what happens. But who knows! I have just over a month to decide whether or not I want to register for Chicago, so we’ll see how I feel as this month goes on.

For those who have broken 2:00 in the half (after running lots of 2:00+ half marathons): training advice? I’m not sure how to go about training for this. I have little/no information from how I trained when I ran my 2:02 and 2:05, so I could really use some guidance, particularly in the speedwork department.

How to Run Commute

Last summer, I incorporated run commuting into my training for the first time. I more or less followed Hal Higdon’s Marathon 3 training program for my sixth marathon, and while I like that it only required three days of running per week, the number of miles I needed to run on those days stressed me out.

Four weeks into training, I gave run commuting a try and instantly fell in love. Run commuting allowed me to do long(er) runs on weekdays without sacrificing my entire evening, alleviating what I felt was the most burdensome part of marathon training.

That being said, I couldn’t just get up from my desk one day and run home. Run commuting required a fair amount of forethought and planning. Today, I’d like to outline the various things I did to make run commuting a pleasant and successful addition to my training.

run commute, active commute, commuting on foot

Is run commuting for me?

Several questions can help answer that:

  • Can I reasonably cover the distance between my office and my house on foot?
  • Is there a safe way to get between my house and office on foot? (Are there sidewalks or running trails? If there aren’t, is the traffic light enough to run on the shoulder? Am I comfortable running in the areas I will need to pass through to get between my house and my office?)
  • How will I return to my starting point in the afternoon/tomorrow morning?
  • What do I need to bring between my house and my office on a daily basis, and how will that fit into my running?
  • Will my destination have the accommodations I need after I run? (If you run commute in the afternoon, this is likely a nonissue, since your house should have everything you tend to use during your post-run routine. If you run in the morning, you’ll need to consider these things.)

For me, the answers to all of these questions made run commuting (in the afternoon) sound reasonable:

  • I can walk the distance between my house and my office.
  • No matter how I went from my office to my house (I usually had to take very indirect routes to make sure I got in all of my miles), I would never need to run in conditions that made me feel unsafe (i.e.: there would always be a sidewalk or trail) or in unfamiliar areas.
  • I take the CTA to work. The CTA runs regardless of how I got home from work the previous day, unlike a car, which will stay where you left it until you move it later.
  • The only things I needed to take between the office and my house every day were my Ventra card, my phone, my house keys, and my work badge. I also chose to bring other particularly important cards from my wallet (like my license and my insurance cards) in case of an emergency. I leave my laptop and work shoes at my desk every night regardless of whether or not I run commute, so I didn’t need to consider those items, and everything else–my lunch box, the Tupperware in said lunch box, my work clothes, my backpack and the various pieces of scrap paper in it–were all things that I could survive losing without a major disruption or inconvenience to my life.
  • Since my runs ended at home, I had everything I needed to return to normal after running. If I ever did choose to run in the morning, my office has fully equipped shower facilities I could use (and a gym with space for foam rolling, stretching, and PT exercises, though I can’t imagine I’d ever start my run commute early enough to fit in all of those extras after a run).

How should I plan for a run commute?

If you answered with yeses: congratulations! You’re a good candidate for run commuting. Now comes the “forethought and planning” part of the equation.

If your office has a dress code, chances are you can’t wear your running clothes during the day. If you run commute in the morning, regardless of your office’s dress code, chances are neither you nor your coworkers want you to stay in your sweaty clothes all day. You’ll need to have work clothes available at the office, either by bringing them in a small backpack with you on your run, or by bringing them the previous work day–which means you’ll have to know that you plan to run commute at least 24 hours in advance.

To run home in the afternoon, you’ll need to bring your running clothes and any related accessories (watch, water bottle, fuel, sunscreen, hat, etc.) with you to work. This doesn’t offer you much flexibility when it comes to make last-minute decisions on what to wear for your run, nor does it offer you much flexibility in terms of deciding to run commute at the last minute, either.

Regardless of whether you run in the morning or afternoon, you likely won’t want to carry much with you beyond the absolute essentials. You’ll need to have a plan, then, for the nice-to-haves. For example, I bring my lunch to work every day, but I don’t want to haul my lunch bag + ice pack + Tupperware home with me on a run. To accommodate, I have two lunch bags, two ice packs, and more Tupperware than any one person needs. That way, I can leave all my lunch accessories at the office overnight and still be able to pack a lunch for the next day. To run commute successfully (i.e.: without forgetting something important), you need to think through all the things you’ll need to run, all the things you’ll need during your work day, and how to get those things from Point A to Point B in a way that won’t burden your run.

One other note: if your run commute will take you through areas with tall buildings and you tend to rely exclusively on your GPS for distance data, realize that your watch may not provide remotely accurate readings while you run near the tall buildings. If you’re concerned about getting in a particular number of miles (compared to running for a certain amount of time), I recommend mapping your route ahead of time on something like MapMyRun to ensure you cover the right distance.

When can I run commute?

Whether you run commute in the morning or afternoon comes down to your personal preference and your access to post-run accommodations (like a shower, or, minimally, a bathroom where you can freshen up). I prefer to work out in the afternoon, which is why I run commute home rather than to the office, but you can certainly do either!

In Chicago, I think summer is the only easy time to run commute. When you run commute in the summer, you have one less major essential to consider: a coat. I don’t want to carry my fleece, pea coat, or parka home on a run commute, but I also don’t want to try to get to work the following day during the colder months without a fleece, pea coat, or parka. Because my coat is a non-negotiable for my next commute after a run commute when it’s cold, unless I’m going to bring that coat with me on my run, I’m not able to run commute. In the winter, boots also come into the equation. I’m absolutely not going to carry my heavy boots home on a run, but I’m also absolutely not going to try to get to work through snow and slush the following morning without them. Not having to consider those elements in the summer simplifies the process immensely, which is why I stick to summer run commuting. (Though I am also willing to run commute during jacket weather. I have two lightweight jackets, so I can leave one at work when I run home and wear the other to work the following morning.)

Even though it requires a fair amount of planning, run commuting has been the most positive addition to my training. If it’s an option for you, I highly recommend giving it a try!

Do you ever run commute?


Bank of America Shamrock Shuffle 8K Race Recap

Another year, another Shuffle.

I went into this year hoping to PR my half marathon in April. After realizing that circumstances would make that somewhere between difficult and impossible, I decided to shift my goal for the half marathon to negative splitting the race. I talked publicly about that, but I did not talk about the fact that I also decided to make the Bank of America Shamrock Shuffle 8K my goal race for the spring.


I didn’t adjust my training to accommodate my new goal to PR at Shamrock, but I figured the training I was doing to negative split my half marathon in April would be sufficient for an 8K PR. Roughly half of my miles since the end of February have been fast: not 8K PR fast, but much faster than usual. Fast finishing my runs has helped me grow familiar with the discomfort and burning of giving it your all at when you feel you don’t have much more to give, so I thought I’d be in a decent place to PR.

I picked up my packet at packet pick-up on Friday–note that this year, the expo was downgraded to a packet pick-up–and spent most of Saturday unsuccessfully trying to relax. I felt anxious and stressed all day. I knew it was supposed to be “breezy,” on Sunday, which concerned me. I tackled two “breezy” runs the week before, and they were so hard. I knew windy conditions would make my already ambitious goal for the 8K (an 8:15ish overall pace, with 8:45, 8:30, 8:15, 8:00, and 7:45 mile splits) that much more challenging. I was also concerned about the temperature. I’ll sing the praises of running in 20-30 degree temperatures all day, unless that day is a race day with no indoor accommodations. I dread standing around in the cold waiting for a race to start while my hands and feet become progressively number. I know how to dress for a run when it’s 29 degrees with a Real Feel of 17: I do not know how to dress for a race in those conditions, where I know I’ll have to be outside for a decent amount of time before and after the run. On top of all of that, it was also important to me that I get to church for the 11 a.m. service after the race. I knew I’d have time to do it–I expected to be done running certainly by 9:30–but the logistics of getting to church, changing, and not freezing to death in the process stressed me out. The combination of all of those things had me feeling so overwhelmed that I truly wanted nothing more than to hide under my covers, forget the whole thing, and just take a DNS.

I’d rather save my first DNS for a time I actually need it, though, so off I went to Grant Park. It was every bit as windy and cold downtown as I feared (though it felt a little less intense in the park itself, with fewer buildings to whip the wind in every direction). I wore my warmest running jacket, which I LOVE but is way bulkier than I’d like to use for a PR-attempt race, and had throwaway sweatpants on over my tights to keep me warmish in the corral. Just a little before 8:40, my corral was off.


In an effort to hit my mile splits (knowing my watch wouldn’t provide accurate readings downtown) I attempted to reconfigure my Garmin so I could manually lap it instead of automatically lapping it, but I didn’t really remember how to do that and ended up with no splits at all (WHY you have to choose between one or the other on this stupid, useless, worthless, waste-of-$200 piece of junk I will never understand. My Polar M400 was MORE than happy to automatically lap my miles while allowing me to manually lap the watch at the same time, and it would report both to me on the online portal after I synced my watch.) This obviously did not help the pacing situation one bit. I know I came through the first mile in 8:3x, which was a bit faster than I hoped to start. I figured I’d do my best to hold onto that pace for the next mile anyway to give myself a little cushion in the 8:15ish overall pace department, but who knows whether or not I did. My watch face wasn’t what I expected when I got to the mile two marker (in attempting to lap it, I had somehow changed the display mode *eyeroll emoji*), so I had no clue how fast I had run the second mile. I eventually got my watch face back to what I wanted sometime after the mile two sign, and it read 17:xx then, but I don’t remember how far I was past the mile two sign when I changed that, never mind if it was 17:00 vs. 17:59, so my second mile split is anyone’s guess.

I felt ok going up LaSalle, and got to mile three in 26:xx. I knew I ran a 26:xx 5K during the Shuffle in 2016 (my PR), so I figured I was probably more or less on track to get close to that time again. The wind picked up and I got tired after that point, though, and when I got to the mile four sign and my watch read 34:xx, I knew nothing short of a miracle would get me to the finish line in sevenish minutes.

In the cruelest twist of fate, the wind felt the worst on Mt. Roosevelt, which really felt like kicking me when I was already down. I checked my watch on Columbus and saw that a PR would be impossible. I hoped to at least not have a terrible race, so I kept up my level of effort and crossed the finish line in 42:33.

That turned out to be my second-worst Shuffle time out of the six I’ve run and a full 1:02 off my PR. (For the record: I ran a 26:26 5K split in 2016; I ran a 26:30 5K split this year. To go from being four seconds off PR pace to 1:02 off PR pace shows how badly that last 3K kicked my butt this year.) I’m pretty disappointed in how everything played out, and even though the race itself was fine from an organizational standpoint and all of that, I don’t know how many Shuffles are in my future. I don’t know if I’m jaded or bored or both, but something about these Bank of America events has started to rub me the wrong way–I have very little love lost for the marathon, too–and I’m sure that has an impact on my performance. The weather didn’t help, but I had a bad attitude about the race to begin with, and that probably didn’t set me up for much success. It’s something I’ll certainly need to work on before the marathon, because I would prefer to not have another race at least partially impacted by my lack of patience for my perception of a race’s sense of self-importance.


Training Thoughts

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I’ve decided to try to intentionally negative split my half marathon in April. To that end, I’ve started fast-finishing almost all of my runs, and so far it’s been going quite well! *knocks on all wood available* I’m enjoying it much more than I ever anticipated, though I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I’m turning in much faster final miles than I ever anticipated, which has been fabulous for my ego.



Those were my runs on March 3 and March 5, respectively. To be fair, I did have a pretty generous wind at my back for the last mile of my run on March 5. But still, I don’t see 8:xx times outside of a race setting very often, and it’s nice to know that I am capable of running that fast without the assistance of dozens/hundreds/thousands of people next to me running that fast as well, even if I rarely do run that fast without said assistance.

I feel like a pretty tried-and-true piece of running advice is that *insert-large-number-here* percent of your runs and/or miles should be easy miles. That’s all well and good, but as a person who only laces up her running shoes three times per week, I’ve started find that advice increasingly stressful. If 60-80 percent of my miles are supposed to be easy miles, and I’m only usually logging 15-20 miles per week (up in the 30s during marathon season, but never even up to 40, never mind more than that), when, exactly, am I supposed to do “real” training – you know, the hard running that presumably makes up the rest of those miles? Assuming 80 percent of my miles should be easy, in a 15 mile week, that gives me a whopping THREE miles that are allowed to be hard. Even under the highest of mileage circumstances, when I’m doing more like 35 miles per week in the darkest depths of marathon training, that still only gives me seven miles that can fall into the “hard” category. And since long runs that last more than 1.5 times longer than your usual weekday ran apparently count as hard miles…wtf man?! It’s literally impossible to hit that kind of target when your mileage is as low as I tend to keep mine.

After years of trial and error, I’ve realized that three days of running/week along with three days of cross training per week is my exercise happy place, and unless that stops being my happy place, I don’t have any intention or desire to up the number of times I run per week. While I do occasionally ponder what kind of things I could accomplish if I ran more than that, I know that when I have tried to run more than that, I was so stressed out about how I would get in all those “other things” that I’m either supposed to be doing to be a better runner (strength training, cross training, etc.) or the things that I want to do (dance) that it just wasn’t worth it.

Only running three times per week, though, limits both the number of weekly miles I can log (hitting 40 miles per week–a fairly modest number, in the grand scheme of non-first timer marathon training–would require TWO weekday 10 milers AND a weekend 20 miler. HARD. PASS.), and limits the available time I have to do various workouts. Assuming a long run is a given and that I should do at least one type of speedwork per week, that leaves me with exactly one “free” run. That free run, of course, could be my easy run, but it would be impossible for easy run to account for 80 percent of my weekly mileage–you can’t possibly do one single run that constitutes 80 percent of your weekly miles and not have that run be your long run.

So does any of this conventional wisdom apply? Should ANY of my runs be easy runs when there isn’t even flexibility to include “junk miles” in my training in the first place? If I’m starting all of my runs slow and finishing all of them fast (aside, right now, from my once-every-three-weeks tempo run, prescribed by Hal Higdon’s HM3 half marathon training program), what kind of run is that, anyway? Half easy/half hard? All hard? SHOULD I be doing all of my runs like that? Am I setting myself up for injury and/or burnout by doing all of my runs like that? These are the questions that keep rolling around in my head every time I’m pounding the pavement.

While part of me feels like I’m playing with fire by fast finishing nearly all of my runs, it’s also blown my mind what kind of impact this seems to have had on my overall fitness. After watching with frustration as my resting heart rate (according to my Fitbit) stubbornly hovered around 6-8 bpm higher than I “like” it to be (and by “like” I mean “what I’m used to it being when I’m regularly running”), it’s been within my normal-when-in-training range ever since–and this is true–the day after I started fast finishing my runs. Maybe that’s entirely a coincidence, and even if you want to argue that my Fitbit is questionable at best at measuring my fitness based on heart rate data–which I would, for the record, completely agree with: last week, I synced my Fitbit when it was OFF my wrist, and the app showed my “current” heart rate at 105 bpm *rolls eyes forever*–I can’t deny how WILDLY different my tempo run last Wednesday felt compared to every other Hal Higdon tempo run I’ve done in the past year.

Hal Higdon’s tempo runs ask you to start at a comfortable pace, gradually speeding up to 10Kish pace around the midpoint of your run, holding that pace for 5+ minutes, and then gradually slowing down to a comfortable pace at the end of your run. I do this in five minute increments, holding a hard-but-comfortable pace for 5-10 minutes of the middle of my run (five minutes if there are an odd number of five minute intervals in my run; 10 if there are an even number intervals). These runs have, without QUESTION, been my #1 love-to-hate workout since I started doing them in February 2017. They are hard. While I would ideally like my paces to look like a perfect pyramid, the second half of these runs were almost always much slower than the first half. Last Wednesday, though? For the first time ever, it felt…easy. Or, at the very least, it felt much easier than it’s ever felt in the past.

I kicked off this training cycle with miles much slower than I hoped to see and a flurry of adjusting my expectations for spring running. I’ve seen a lot of unexpected improvement since I started, you know, trying on the majority of my runs. I know I phone it in a lot in the name of not getting injured, and I wonder if I use my fear of injury as an excuse to not hurt (in the right way, not the injured way) during a lot of my training. Or am I being smart? I truly don’t know, and this is the question that’s vexed me to no end for the past few weeks. The one time I did really train back in 2014, I threw down four consecutive PRs on back-to-back-to-back-to-back weekends. I also spent the entire second half of the year in physical therapy. It really frustrated me to not even come close to setting a PR in anything last year, and I would like to not feel that way about running again…but at what cost?

All that being said, I’m glad to be glad to be running again (not a typo). I was so burnt out by the time I wrapped up my 2017 training in December (actually, I was burnt out by, like, September), and I wanted nothing more than to stop running for a long time. It’s nice to be happy to run again.




2017 Running Recap

Time for one of my favorite posts of the year! As always, thanks to Kim for the inspiration 🙂

Races participated in: 10
Races “raced” (of x amount above): 3. I was going to make a comment about how this is the most I’ve ever raced, but then I looked back on my past annual recaps and it’s definitely not, haha. It is, however, one of the only times I’ve ever been able to give a definitive response for this, so that’s something 😛
DNFs: 0
DNSs: 0

5K: 2 (a personal annual low!)
Half Marathon:
5 (far and away a personal high. My previous record was 3.)
States Run In: 6, another new personal high! Although it looks like I used to only count this as states raced in, not states run in. Regardless, I went to way more places this year than ever before, and consequently ran in way more places this year than ever before. This year, I ran in Illinois, Michigan, California (new to me, both as a state and a running destination!), Tennessee (new to me!), New York (new to me!), and Nevada (new to me!). It was a pretty big year for destination running, I’d say. I’m bummed I was too sick to run when I was in Washington, D.C. in May 😦 I’m writing this post the week before Christmas, and there’s a very small chance I may run in Washington (state) while I’m out there this week, but I’m not counting on it.


Road: 10
Trail: 0
Months Run In: 12

Hottest race: For the first time ever, this is a tough one. (I don’t keep track of the actual weather on race day, so I’m just going off memory.) It was either Rock ‘n’ Roll Nashville, where they pushed the start of the race up by 30 minutes due to the heat (it approached 90 that day, though I don’t think it was in the 90s while we ran), or the Chicago Half Marathon, where it also got up to 90 that day. Bizarrely enough, Rock ‘n’ Roll Chicago had some of the best race day weather (at least from a seasonal perspective) out of all of the races I did this year. Go figure.

Coldest race: Jingle Bell Run Chicago, easily. It was only in the 20s.
Windiest race: I’m going to give this crown to Jingle Bell as well, because the headwind in the second half of that race was no. joke. It was windy during the Illinois Half Marathon, too, but not at ALL like at Jingle Bell.
Wettest race: That’s a three-way tie between Rock ‘n’ Roll Nashville, the Chicago Half, and the Chicago Marathon, not because it rained at any of those events–there wasn’t a cloud in the sky for the duration of any of them–but because I think I dumped as much water on my head during those races as I drank and was soaked through by the time I finished all of them. Yay hot runs 😐

Races I ran for free: 0. Another first 😦
Race entries I paid for other people: 0

Participation medals received: 13. Why yes, yes I did end up with more medals than races run. I got a bonus medal at Illinois for doing the Half I Challenge, a bonus medal from Rock ‘n’ Roll for doing two of their races, and though it hasn’t arrived yet, I’m also supposed to receive a bonus medal from Rock ‘n’ Roll for doing three of their races. In related news, I’ve run out of space on my medal rack. In equally related news, I think the regularity of handing out medals at the end of races has gotten a little out of control.

AG medals received: 0 😦 Oh, odd year Jingle Bells, how you break my heart!

Goose egg 😦 Since I started running in 2011, this is the first time I didn’t log any PRs. It’s a bit disappointing, especially on the half marathon front since I ran so many of them, but hopefully I’ll have better news to report in 2018’s annual recap.

Favorite medal: Nashville. Say what you will about Rock ‘n’ Roll, but as far as medal design goes, I think they’re the best in the business. I love that this one lights up!

Favorite picture: Mt. Roosevelt.


I don’t often buy pictures from MarathonFoto, but I believe it’s required by runner law to hand over your credit card to MarathonFoto if you’re able to look that genuinely happy at the top of Mt. Roosevelt at mile 26.1 (or so) of a MARATHON. I regret nothing.

What I particularly appreciate about that picture is that I sent this picture to my parents two weeks before the race so they’d know (more or less) what I’d look like on race day, saying, “I forgot to take pictures of my outfit after the 20 miler this year because my brain was melting from all the heat. Fortunately, CARA’s photographer got one of me, so this is what you can expect to see on race day. Don’t hold me to that expression, though.”

2017 CARA Ready to Run 20 MilerPhoto credit: Chad Marek of Endurance Photo

WELL WELL. Look who was able to manage that expression on race day! 😀

Miles run in 2017: 802.42 (+238.02 from 2016, with the ENORMOUS caveat that my 2016 total doesn’t include any of my many, many 2016 treadmill miles. I estimate that I ran up to 100 miles on the treadmill in 2016, which would make this +138.02 from 2016 instead). This is, of course, assuming that my GPS watches were accurate, which as I most certainly learned the hard way this year, was not always the case. But that’s what my Polar annual report + my Garmin reports say, so that’s what I’m going with. (Speaking of Garmin: is there an easy way to get it to tell you your annual mileage? The only thing I could find was a chart with monthly mileage, but I had to add up the monthly totals individually. I find Garmin Connect, both the website and the app, to be fairly unintuitive compared to Polar’s interface, however, so it’s possible I just don’t know how to get the data I’m looking for.)
Of those, miles done on the treadmill: 5.74

BOOM. This was probably one of the pettiest, stupidest goals I’ve ever had as a runner, but at some point during marathon season, it occurred to me that I hadn’t logged one single marathon training mile on a treadmill, and I decided I wanted to keep it that way. It’s so irrelevant and unimportant (and not even meaningful, really – I didn’t log any treadmill miles during marathon training in 2015, either), but I guess after doing SO many runs on the treadmill last year, I got a pathetic amount of pride out of not running on a treadmill this year. I only ran twice on a treadmill all year: once in February, and once at Runn Chicago.

Anyway, treadmill hatred aside, this was FAR and away the highest annual mileage I’ve ever logged. My previous recorded PR in that department was 671.58 in 2015. I was also in training for a lot more of this year than ever before (last week of January through the second week of December with no time off by my definition – “time off” by my definition meaning not running for a full week by choice, not by injury- or illness-induced force), so I can’t say I’m surprised. I also have an even greater appreciation for people who manage to log 1000+ miles annually after all of this. While I think my body could’ve handled more miles this year, my mind certainly couldn’t. I was really, really tired of running by the time I was finally done training for the year, and I can’t imagine adding any extra training time onto my schedule (or somehow adding 198 more miles into the training I did).

It was a weird year in running for me, on the whole. Most of my race times were not anywhere near what I’d like, and marathon training was a wildly demoralizing experience, especially after Labor Day. The marathon itself, however, went so well that I’m really still not over it almost three months later. That was the highlight of my whole year in running, and I kind of feel like it made up for every disappointment I had in the half marathon department this year (of which there were PLENTY). I don’t have any super solid goals for running in 2018, other than at least putting effort into trying to PR my half marathon, but I’m looking forward to running a couple new races, seeing some new sights, and hopefully not getting food poisoning during marathon training this time around 😉