Someone else I know does a running blog?

Apparently, this whole doing a running blog idea was not solely mine.  Apparently there are other runners out there who have something to say.  Go figure!

James Patterson, author of Running from Food

A past acquaintance of mine (a guy I knew from a previous ward) started a running blog.  He calls it, Running from Food.  Immediately my interest was sparked and I went over for a look.  So far, I give his blog high marks.  And we all know that I am the resident expert and therefore judge of all of other runner blogs, right?  Right.  Anyway, I've been reading it and it got me thinking about my own relationship to food.

In high school, my friends and I went to either McDonalds or Wendy's nearly every day for lunch.  This diet had exactly zero impact on my weight.  It probably made a huge dent in how long I'll live, but as far as what my body did, it really didn't effect it.  Oh the days of crazy metabolisms, why have you left me?

But then my twenties kicked in and I very quickly realized that my body was not made of metabolic steel anymore and food did start to matter.  Fast forward ten years and four kids later and food really mattered.  But something else that I realized about my body is that it responds really well and fairly quickly to exercise.  I would so rather run ten miles then give up cookies and hamburgers.  So when I began running, I felt like I got to control my body without really have to do much to change my eating habits.  Running kept the pounds at bay and so why change what I eat when what I eat is so freaking good?

But when I did turn thirty, I suddenly felt old.  I know, thirty isn't old.  But it is old.  I mean this is the oldest I've ever been, so yeah, I'm just going to stick with, "I feel old."  My body wasn't telling me I was old.  I felt physically fine, but that age, 30, it got me thinking about what I was putting in my body.  I think ill health is cumulative.  Even if I was physically fit through running, I wasn't feeding myself the kinds of things that encourage longevity or disease prevention. 

Slowly, I've started to change a few things in my diet.  I've taken down my sugar intake.  I've included more whole grains.  I've started to eat things that aid in proper digestion because I've heard over and over again that most disease starts in the gut.  I've also gone without soda now for more than a year or two.  Water is my drink of choice.  I've also started looking at foods that I've never tried before but are always on the lists that super healthy eaters put out there on the web, like kale or almond milk.  I'm a picky eater, so I'm slow at trying new things. 
After all of these changes, what have I found?  I've found that I'm a better runner.  The easiest one to notice was the soda deletion.  Once I gave up soda, I started breaking time records.  When I started paying attention to my fiber intake (you know to clean things out of "there") my ability to go distances of 8 or more miles was greatly enhanced. 

Food matters. 

I'm not overweight.  I don't run to lose weight and I'm happy with how my clothes fit me.  But regardless, food still matters. 

That is why I'm glad I found this new blog about the relationship one runner has with food.  It's a great resource and fun to read and encouraging to boot.  I encourage all of my eleven followers to go read this new blog I've found (you can also continue to read mine, you know, if you want).  And tell your friends.  Encourage them to follow us.  Followers help us write better, I promise. 

Happy Running!

Winter: A Runner's Best Friend

So I usually slow down a bit with running during the winter.  I'm a pansy when it comes to being cold and my schedule is always pretty crazy during the school year.  So I use those two things as excuses.
But this winter, I wanted to stay in the action.  I didn't want to deteriorate and have to start over again come spring.  So I got a treadmill.  But I can literally only do about 2 or 3 miles on a treadmill before I want to rip my hair out. It's just so boring.  So I consigned myself to run outside.
Lucky for me, this winter was pretty mild for a while.  Winter running was more like late fall running, which is glorious.
And then it got cold.  Real cold.  And then, miracle of miracles, it snowed.  So do I still run outside?  Do I just spend all of winter inside, hating my treadmill?

Nope.  Despite my aversion to cold temperatures, I went running in the snow.
It was SO fun!

I'm not sure what was fun about it, but I really enjoyed it.  Perhaps being witness to the purifying blanket of snow made it cool.  Perhaps running outside when no one else was made me feel extra bad-A.  Perhaps the cold actually made me feel comfortable the entire run instead of sweating buckets like I do in summer.  Perhaps because there is something ethereal about running along as snow slowly drifts down from the heavens.

Whatever it was, it was fun.  I highly recommend it.

A few things that I've learned about winter running:

-  You can not/will not/should not go as fast as you would during warmer weather.  It is snow after all and snow is ice, so going slower to reduce the risk of injury is a must.  Plus, if the snow is fresh, it's like running through sand; wet, cold, slippery sand.  That'll slow you down for sure.  I was told once that winter running is a time to maintain.  Not being able to break any time records while running in the snow, I get to concentrate on perfecting form and maintaining muscle tone.
-  You make drivers more nervous than just an icy road would.  Even though I run as far to the side as I can on the roads, your presence will make a driver more nervous.  Help them out by being more aware of your surroundings.
-  It's harder to breathe in the really cold air. Keep that in mind when you're setting a pace.
-  If you are skiddish around dogs, winter is the time to go running.  Most owners keep their dogs indoors during the winter, or dogs are less likely to go running after you because they'd rather stay warm lying where they are.  I usually see and meet quite a few dogs on my routes, but I hardly saw any since I start winter running.  
-  It takes me about a mile to stop feeling the cold.  You get warm pretty fast, so no need to pack on the snow gear to go for a run. 
-  Despite that it's ice and snow, I don't slip much at all.  But I'm fully aware that I could biff it at any time.

So, if you've been huddled inside lately cursing the snow for ruining your running schedule, get some long winter running pants and go enjoy yourself.
I promise, you'll have a good run.

Motivation Went to Monte Carlo

You wake up one morning, knowing you should get out and run, but you're not feelin' it.  No problem, one says to oneself, my gal Motivation (yes I think Motivation is a she)  will help me through it.  Except there's a note on your fridge and it says that Motivation went to Monte Carlo and she's not sure when she'll be back. 

Well at least my motivation is in Monte Carlo or somewhere nicer than here.  Perhaps she's just visiting someone else, maybe you, but she's not here. 

I was running along Broadway in Idaho Falls a few weeks back.  It's what I do when I'm waiting for my daughter to get out of her dancing/singing/drama class.  I have to watch the ground quite a bit with all of the haggard sidewalks, the uneven roads and, of course, cars.  I made the observation that no matter how many times they fixed the roads or straightened the sidewalks, it wouldn't last.  Then I tried to think of things that did last.  I found a few, but not many things in this world last.  Motivation is one of those things. 

When I began running after my second daughter was born, my motivation was to drop ten pounds of baby weight that hadn't come off.  Well, I achieved that goal.  So then what was my motivation?  Next it became my goal to run a race.  After my twins were born, I accomplished that goal....many times.  Right now my motivation is to keep my aging body in working order and on the fitter side of life.  But some mornings, I could care less if I go soft and get flabby.  Some days, I could care less that I just downed a whole batch of cookies.  Sometimes, I could care less if one morning that dumb scale betrays me.  So despite the fact that I have goals, like staying in shape and perhaps running a half marathon next summer, I still lack motivation. 

She's a fickle friend, that Motivation.  When she's around, you feel awesome and you feel inspired and you kick butt.  When she's gone, you feel lousy and justified in your decision to not move a muscle today.  So if I can't count on motivation to be ever-present, then what do I do?

That's when it hit me.  Motivation will come and go as she pleases.   When she's gone, am I going to sit around hoping that she'll feel like stopping by in the near future? No, I can't.  I made the decision that I probably gain more when I run without her. 
I've had quite a few runs like this lately.  Apparently, for me anyway, Motivation doesn't like Idaho cold and must be on a beach somewhere right now, because this is the time of year when I least feel like running.  But the runs I've done without Motivation there by my side have been some of the coolest runs I've done.  I don't think I ran better or anything, I just think that the decision to run despite having any desire to do so, gave me a sense of satisfaction that I hadn't previously experienced. 

It's an interesting experience to go solo out there, Motivation having abandoned me for days at a time.  Do I get mad at her for leaving me when she gets back?  Heck no!  I'm glad to see her.  Sometimes she will catch up to me mid-run.  Motivation is always a welcome visitor.  But now I know that I have it in me to run without her too.  And with 4 kids barking at my heels, a house that seems to be in a constant state of messiness, and a long list of to-dos that literally haunts my dreams, I know why Motivation doesn't hang around much.  I mean who wants all that to deal with? 

So  like the roads and sidewalks, Motivation will wither and go away, sometimes returning after getting some work done.  And that's cool.
Motivation can live her own life untethered to me, because I've got this.

Nite Lites!

Perhaps you remember my post from last year about this race.  If not, come refresh your memory.  If so, you know how flippin' awesome this race is. 

This year, I was accompanied at the race by my sister-in-law, Kristan, and my friend, Alicia.  Both girls were to run the 5k and I ran the 10k. 

I decked myself out in reflector stickers, and a ton of glowsticks, as did Kristan and Alicia.  We got to Teton Running near 10:30.  We were pleasantly surprised that this year, they'd have shuttles to the starting points.  We get in the shuttle about ten to eleven and head out.  I get dropped off first and start my race at approximately 11:05.  I wanted to start at 11:00 as I figured I would need the whole hour to run the 10k and try to finish as close to midnight as I could.  So, I picked up the speed a bit.  The race was as surreal as last year.  A whole bunch of bobbing light, the cool darkness of the night, the occasional flashing cop car signaling a turn.  It was great.  No meteors this year, but that's okay. 
For a long time I was running by myself.   The moon wasn't out or full at least and so it was somewhat disorienting.  All I could see was a blinking blue light a ways down the road.  The light was attached to another runner.  I ran like that, trailing the blinking blue light for what seemed like forever.  Suddenly, I was passing the blue light.  There was no one in front of me, so apparently, I became the one to follow for a while.  Later I sound some more bobbing lights to follow and eventually pass.  
At some point, the 10k course had an "in and out" which means that you'd run a ways and then be told to turn around.  At this point, I spotted Kristan on her 5k run.  We instantly recognized each other's reflectors and glowstick patterns.  At this point, I was probably a mile and a half from the finish.  I've been feeling good the whole race, especially since I had yet to be passed.  That is until about a half mile left.  Out of nowhere these twelve year-old boys who had been half walking and half sprinting passed me.  Ah well, I guess that part isn't too important. 

I see the finish line and that good ole' "Anxious Horse Syndrome" kicks in and I speed up.  I pass the finish line at 12:01.  This means I cut 4 minutes off of last year's run.  Cool!

When all the runners have come in, the awards start.  They are giving out the pumpkin awards first.  This is the award for the guy and gal in each race that finished closest to midnight.  And guess who won the 10k race?  Me!  2nd year in a row!  Not really a prize for speed, but one for accuracy.  I'll take it.  Later I also win a pair of running shorts and a gift certificate to Kiwi Loco.  I cleaned house!  I hung out with Kristan and Alicia after the race and it looked as though they both had a ton of fun too.  Kristan thinks she'll go for the 10k next year!

Once again, Nite Lites was freakin' awesome.  I highly recommend it. 

Kristand and Me before the race.  Check out the reflectors!

Kristan at the finish

Me at the finish

Alicia, Me and Kristan

Kristan and Me at the end

Me with my pumpkin award

Me celebrating my running shorts

Conquer Something

I did a long run this morning.  I had no idea how long until I got home.  After mapping it out, it was just under 7 miles.  The whole run I had a feeling that it might be that long.  Toward the end, it got hard to keep going.  It was a flat run, and those tend to bore me more often than hilly runs.  But I didn't want to stop.  I would make something in the distance my mark and run to conquer it.  And that's what running is all about; the conquest. 

In the beginning for me, time was my goal.  I wanted to run for a set length of time without stopping.  Later, I wanted to conquer distance.  Often now, it's all about conquering fatigue or the long hill that I haven't dared touch yet.  I feel like if you don't have something to conquer, than what are you doing out there?  And to me, conquering something during a run is more than just reaching a goal.  To me, getting say you conquered that hill or that you conquered those last 6 miles means that you pushed yourself to the brink.  No limping, no crying, no mercy.  Leave nothing on that road, run past the point where you thought you'd die.  Don't just reach your goal, destroy it.    That's what it means to really conquer something.  Don't just eek by.

I was watching the Olympics and I saw one of the running events where a double amputee was running.  The guy had both legs amputated below the knee as an infant and what did he decide to do with his life?  Run!  And he didn't just reach the goal of being able to run, he blew it out of the water by making it to the Olympics.  That's what I call a conquest!

Give yourself something to conquer.  Running is hard work.  There's no doubt about that.  But a determined spirit is unstoppable.
Conquer the distance.  Run your usual distance and then one step more. 
Conquer the time.  Run your usual length and then one minute more. 
Conquer the route.  Run your usual route plus one more hill. 
In my experience, going one extra step, one extra minute, or one extra hill gives you what you need to keep going and you'll find that the next step or next minute or next hill is yours for the conquering. 

The next enemy I have to conquer is 8 miles. I haven't done 8 miles since way before the boys were born.  I plan on it being hard.  I plan on it sucking, probably.  But what worth conquering isn't hard and sucky? 

Sometimes when someone tells me they can't, I want to say, "Are you sure?"  Who knows until you try?

Find something to conquer.

Hurdles for Hope: Extreme Racing, Extreme Fun

My husband and I did a race last Saturday.  Not any normal race.  It was a 5k obstacle race.  We ran in the Hurdles of Hope!  It was extremely challenging and so so fun.  Since my husband did the race with me, I asked him to write the race story.  So here is his accounting of how things went:

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We hurdled.

We hoped.

And when I say we hurdled, I mean we jumped, climbed, and dragged our beat-up bodies over massive hay bales, fifteen-foot boot-camp obstacles, walls of fire, and actual hurdles that seemed insurmountable by the end of the race even though they were only three feet high.



At the start

And when I say we hoped, I mean we hoped and prayed that we didn’t fall on our faces in mud, blow out any important joints, collapse in a heap and die, or otherwise publicly humiliate ourselves.

That’s right. We competed in the 2012 “Hurdle for Hope” extreme race in Rexburg, Idaho. (I use the word “competed” lightly here, but we’ll get to that later.)

Anna has been trying to get me into running races for a while now. She loves it, so she naturally wants to share it with me. (Either that or she just takes some sick pleasure in inflicting pain upon her husband. Jury’s still out on that one.) So what better introduction to running races than an extreme-obstacle-course 5k? Right?



Hurdles! Oh the hurdles!

I started training (read “a semi-regular routine of masochism and self-inflicted injury”) a month or so ago. For my first run, I did a full 5k (because I’m an idiot.) After recovering from the resulting knee injuries a few days later, I started over at a mile or so and worked my way back up to 5k. For my last run, I took on the bottom portion of Lincoln road leading up to the windmills, and I was feeling pretty darn good about myself.

Saturday, July 14^th. Race day.

It was nice and cloudy, even dropped a little rain every once in a while, and I decided that was the perfect environment for a race. It felt great outside, and I was excited for this challenge. Anna and I didn’t bother dressing up (because we’re lame like that), but it was fun to see the team of Ninja Turtles and the family sporting matching pink bandanas (this little five-year-old boy with no shirt and a pink Rambo bandana looked tough enough to beat the crap out of me). It was less fun to see the dude in short-shorts, muscle shirt, and fake handle-bar mustache who looked like a 70s porn star, but you can’t win ‘em all.

The 5k racers ran in several smaller heats so we wouldn’t trip over each other when we got to the obstacles, and Anna and I set out with the third heat. We hit the spare-tire terrain, which was more funny than difficult, and then entered the Rexburg Nature Park. After jumping a few foot-tall hay bales and standard wood track hurdles (well, I had to use a hand to get over them—I wasn’t as tough as the He-Man: Master-of-the-Universe dude in front of me that was taking the things in a full leap), we came to a section where we dropped down into the wetlands. But the mud pit was pretty small and I was able to leap the whole thing without making a mess of myself. This is cake, I was thinking. I felt fairly awesome about myself.

Mud pit!

We climbed up a small hill, and then dropped straight down into crotch-high muddy water. There was no jumping over this. The whole thing reeked of stagnation, and it felt like we were trudging through a dead-animal-infested swamp. By the time we dragged ourselves out of it, my shoes felt like they weighed twenty pounds apiece, full of mud and rocks. Suddenly, every step took effort and caused pain.

Awesome feeling gone.

And that was just in the first half-mile or so. For the rest of the race, you just had to muscle through it. There were man-made mud pits (definitely less nasty than the swamp water, but always filled your shoes with more rocks and dead weight). There were giant, five-foot-tall hay-bales that you had to sort of leap and roll over. At one point we ran into three of these bales stack on top of one another and you had to climb all the way up and over. There was a whole section filled with boot camp obstacles, including big wooden walls and a roped-off section where you had to crawl on your stomach. And yes, there was even a mini bonfire that had to be leapt over (Anna cut it fairly close on this one, landing just beyond the burning wood.)

Strangely, I think my favorite part of the course was the river. There was a largish stretch where we were running up stream through the Henry’s Fork (at least I think that’s where we were.) It was just the right depth where you could still run if you high-stepped it, and it felt so refreshing to be clean for a few minutes. Of course, I had to stop on the way out to ring out my shoes and cut a little of the extra water weight, but I really enjoyed this section.

The race ended with us running a stretch down the horse-racing track, leaping a few more hurdles, and then diving through a soapy slip-and-slide at the finish line. We ended up finishing at just over forty minutes, which put us at sixty-third and sixty-fourth place out of two-hundred and twenty-four 5k finishers. Obviously, that’s a pretty terrible time for a 5k, but this race really wasn’t about that.

As an introduction to endurance racing, “Hurdle for Hope” was a blast! It was so fun to do something crazy with Anna, and it felt great to push my body through something so difficult. Now hopefully my future races don’t seem anticlimactic and boring by comparison, but I’m looking forward to continuing this new hobby and I’m grateful to my wife for pushing me to take on such a fulfilling

challenge.

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With the grace and agility of a slightly lame llama....

And there you have it.  This was Arik's first race.  I recently talked him into running and when I saw this race I knew he'd love it.  I have to admit that I was somewhat jealous watching him leap like a gazelle over some of those hay walls, but also super impressed and proud.    I had a ton of fun doing this even though it was the longest 5k of my life.  I have to say that one of my favorite obstacles was leaping over the firepit.  I think the hint of danger in that one made it cool.  The boot camp-like walls were the most challenging for me.  Next year, I need to beef up my upper body strength so those walls don't seem so daunting.  I keep discovering bruises, cuts, and scrapes from that day, but I wear them with pride. 

All in all, rain and mud and fire and rivers and hay bales and 15-foot walls, it was a blast.  It's on our summer to-do list from this time forward. 

Have a race experience you just HAVE to share?  Send it to me at annadurfee@yahoo.com.

To Bone and Back: Hills....hills....and more hills....and still some more....and yup here come some more hillls.....ooo, that one looks tough

Note to reader:  This is a wicked long story as it bascially tells 8 different race stories.


I woke up the morning of the race feeling good and anxious.  I had trained on hills.  I knew I could run 5 miles on them.  But, there's always that ping of doubt as to whether you'll master the hill or if the hill will humilate you in front of all your friends. 

Adrian, Kristan, and Me

6:50am I meet up with my team.  I only know two members; my brother and his wife.  Adrian, my brother, will be running the 3rd leg and Kristan will run the first leg.  I meet Justin, Jonathon, Chris, Patrick, and Miles.  Justin is a friend of my brother's.  He'll be doing the 2nd leg.  The 2nd leg is agreed to be the hardest leg.  So immediately I'm impressed with Justin for taking it.  Jonathon will be doing the 5th leg, which is my leg but backwards.  Seems like a nice guy.  Chris is our last leg runner.  She only got word that she'd be running with us 24 hours ago.  It's pretty awesome that she would agree to this.  Patrick and Miles are a father/son duo.  Patrick is going to help Miles, his son, run his leg and he'll also be running his own leg.  Double duty. 
And then there was me.  I was to run the 4th leg.

7:00am we meet at the starting line and see Kristan start us off.  We all have personal goals for our legs.  For some, it's to simply not die.  For others, specific time goals are in place.  Kristan wanted to finish her leg in under an hour.  I've shared Kristan's running story on here before.  Recently, she's worked up to run a 5k.  She thought her leg was going to be a 5k or 3.2 miles until a day or so before the race when we let her know that her leg would be 5 miles.  She didn't flinch, she just went to it.  Some runners might have freaked out a bit to realize that they'd have to run longer than they've been training to do.  But Kristan seemed to take it in stride. 

Adrian and Dani

The rest of us jump in the support vehicle and drive up to where the first handoff will be.  While waiting, I get to know the other runners.  Most of them seem to know each other already.  They are a pretty cool bunch of people who seem like a lot of fun. 
Kristan shows up 55 minutes after starting.  She made her goal!!!  She looks happy and I might say a little giddy.  She did a really good job and you can tell she feels proud of her accomplishment. 

Justin takes off on his leg and we all decide to stop every mile or so to cheer him on and to be ready with water or whatever else he needs.  The 2nd leg is brutal.  It's almost ALL uphill.   About half way through the leg, you can tell Justin hurts and would like nothing more than to drag one of us out the car to trade spots with him.  But he just keeps going.  We cheer him on.  Drive a little bit and then cheer him on some more.  Justin makes it to the handoff and Adrian takes off. 
We all pat Justin on the back, run and get him water and orange slices.  He looks extremely tired.  He turns around to look back down the hill, as do we all, and we're amazed at the climb in elevation he just did.  The fact that he's still standing amazes us all.

Onto to Adrian.  We do the same for Adrian as we did for Justin.  My husband and kids find us and travel behind us as we follow Adrian.  We drive a little, cheer him on, drive a little, offer water and cheer him on.  Adrian is doing well.  His hip starts to bother him and so walking a bit becomes necessary.  I know I'm running after Adrian, so I'm getting a little nervous seeing how absolutely huge these hills are.  The ones I've been training on seem like these hills' babies or something.  We get to the next handoff.  I quickly head to the bathroom and then warm up before Adrian gets here.  We all see Adrian coming down the last hill.  He looks tired but he just keeps coming.  Before I know it, he's at the handoff, and I'm off to discover what hills lie in wait for me. 

Always go potty before you run 5 miles of hills.

I start on an uphill, but my adrenaline is pumping so much, I reach the top without even realizing it.  I get a nice big down hill and then I see it.  The first big hill.  It winds up and around a hill and it looks long and steep.  I start my ascent and the steepness of the hill makes my legs feel like I'm trying to run in sand.  I make it up that hill hoping for some flat ground for a while.  I get my wish, but the lovely flatness is over too soon and I'm going up again.  It goes on like this for what seems like forever.  A little, tiny, punie, spot of flat ground followed by another giant hill.  My legs are screaming.  My lungs tell me to stop.  But I'm stubborn during races.  I have yet to have to stop and walk during a race.  I'm NOT going to walk in this one.  My ascent up what I hope is my last hill nearly brought me to my knees.  I so desparately wanted to stop and walk.  To help change up which muscles I was using and in a effort to give me legs some kind of reprieve, I started to run backwards up the hill.  It helps a little, but it made me go a lot slower.  So I turned myself around and kept going.  That last hill seemed like an eternity.  I get to the top thinking that now my legs can enjoy a little jaunt on flat ground.  It was flatter, but not entirely, so my legs didn't get a full rest until much further down the road.  You can spot the handoffs because of the large amount of cars that surround them.  I kept looking for those cars when I got to the top of this hill.  No cars yet!  $&*%@!   And the heat of the day was rising rapidly.  Where were the blasted cars?!

My wonderful teammates and my husband and kids were great cheerleaders.  If they hadn't been there, I would have walked for sure.  The unintelligible yet encouraging screams as they passed.  The cheerful honks.  The lovely water they ran along side to give me. Seeing my girls hanging out the car window chanting, "Go, mom, go, mom!"  It was just fabulous. 

They drive up on ahead to the handoff and for a mile it's just me.  I have one last hill to go and then I'm done.  As I make my ascent up the beast, I fully expect jelly-like legs and burning lungs.  Shockingly, my speed doesn't break and I'm climbing this hill much faster than the others.  I call this phenomenon, "The Anxious Horse Syndrome."  Ever been on a long horse ride?  When you get close to home again, watch out, because that horse might just take off.  That was me.  I knew I only had a mile left and my legs just went faster.  I felt like I'd lost control of myself.  I crest the hill and see the barrage of cars!!  The last little bit is all downhill.  Usually I might be cautious going down hill, but I just ran for it.  I see my husband, kids, and teammates cheering me on and I run faster.  I can wait to get rid of this stupid bone baton!  I hand off my bone to Jonathon and he takes off.   I find myself in my husband's arms as he half hugs me and half holds me up.  I get some high fives from teammates, another hug from my brother and orange slices from my kids.  Then Adrian tells me my time.  48 minutes!  What?!  I ran faster than a 10-minute mile?  This is just icing on the cake.  I beat those hills and did it in a pretty decent time too.  Despite how hard that run was, I feel great.  Later in the day, we all agree that the 4th leg is probably the 2nd hardest. 

Soon we need to catch up to Jonathon.  I bid farewell to Arik and the kids and get in the support vehicle to go cheer on Jonathon.  When we catch up to him, we see that he's making pretty good time.  It's really hot now and running that far and that hard in the blazing heat makes everything that much harder.  We cheer on Jonathon, hand him some water.  Adrian runs alongside him for a bit, dispensing some epic encouraging words I'm sure.  Before we know it Jonathon is done and in 51 minutes.!  He beat his last time and he's thrilled.  Now it's Miles' turn. 
Patrick, his dad, is going to run with him for support.  Miles is only 8, so this will be a feat for him.  The kid did awesome!  He needed frequent walking and water breaks, but he just kept going.  You could tell he was horribly tired, but he wanted to finish his leg.  Go Miles!!
Next is Patrick's turn.  This guy is probably our best runner.  He did To Bone and Back last year on a two-man team.  Meaning he ran 20 of these miles last year!    Patrick's method of running means you walk when you need to so when you start up again you're going faster.  I'll have to try that some day.  We cheer on Patrick and he screams, "I love you guys!" as he runs past.  40 minutes later, Patrick comes barrelling into the hand off and Chris takes off for the last leg of To Bone and Back.

Chris' leg is mostly downhill and flat, but she's running in the worst heat.  She running really fast and strong and she takes advantage of the water we offer at every mile.  She alternates between dumping it on her head and drinking it.  It was blasted hot.  She doesn't slow and doesn't walk.  We're so close to home, I think she's got the Anxious Horse Syndrome too.  When she gets close to the finish line, we all join her and run past the finish line together.  It was an awesome feeling to cross the finish line as a team. 

We end the day with pictures, ice cream, Great Harvest bread, hot dogs and very very tired legs. 
It was an awesome race and I will definitely do it again next year.  The whole team aspect and the support is what made this race so awesome.  The difficulty of the run was even awesome. 
I'll probably find some tougher hills to train on next year so I can try and beat my time, but I hope to do this race every year. 

Thanks to my great teammates, my husband and my kids who supported me during training and on race day.  I couldn't have done it without you!!