The Peachtree Road Race 2014

I have just completed my 4th Peachtree Road Race over the weekend. My calves still feel the burn of the 6.2 miles.

The first time I ran this race (2001?), I wasn't impressed. It was disorganized and it took forever to start running at the beginning - there were just too many people. People who just ran once a year, dusting of their running shoes a week before the race. I called them "fair weather" runners. They wouldn't run in the rain, the snow or even the heat. They weren't real runners like me.

13 years later, just coming off an injury and dealing with apartment issues (and yes, the heat too), I didn't have time to practice before the race. In a moment of irony, I realized I had become one of the runners I used to roll my eyes at. I can knock off a 5k easy without practice and without breaking much of a sweat. Not so with a 10k. I knew this one was going to hurt, however, I just prayed it didn't hurt the areas of my leg that I had just worked so hard to repair. I knew I had to be careful with this one.

In the last two years of running the Peachtree, I must say I love the celebratory atmosphere. It's like a giant parade, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I feel like a celebrity running down and giving High-5's to people cheering on the side of the road. I even got to High-5 three people dressed in cow costumes from Chick-fil-a.

I would have liked to run the full race non-stop, but that just wasn't in the cards (non-realistic). It was more important that I finish with my previously-injured leg intact. After the 3 mile mark, my body started to lose steam. If I had to stop, I still made sure I was moving - pump those arms and make long strides.

The last mile of the race was covered in people standing shoulder-to-shoulder, cheering. It really helped me get a 2nd (or 3rd or 4th by that time) wind. My Ipod said I had 800 meters to go, but I knew that was wrong. One Peachtree volunteer said it was a half-mile and I recognized some landmarks on the way to Piedmont Park. People around me would run slower and slower before slumping into a walk and then a shuffle. As I ran past them, I'd say "Great job, c'mon now, we're only 1/2 mile out. Almost there! You HAVE to run the finish!". It would get them to smile and laugh, saying "okay, okay" and they'd start running again. One thanked me and one patted me on the shoulder. Little did they know, I was in the same boat and wanted to stop at every step. However, after just telling them that we were almost done, I couldn't very well start walking, now could I? ;)

I finish in an hour and 19 minutes, which is 10 minutes slower than my usual 10k. Not bad at all, I think I'll take it.

The running trails call my name. I need to get back out there. Before the Peachtree, I started seeing ads for the Triple Peach medal. To earn it, one must run 3 races - the Peachtree Road Race (10k), the Atl 10 Miler and the Atlanta Half Marathon. I started thinking the Triple Peach Medal would look good on my wall...

One race down. Two more to go.

The Biggest Loser Six Flags 5k

Week 5's race brought me to Six Flags Over Atlanta, the birthplace of my love of coasters and the home of the CHOA Coasterthon. The Biggest Loser is a cause near and dear to Chris' heart because he helps countless people finish Spartan Races with them, so I was more than happy to sign up for the race when he asked me. It was just another 5k for me, but for many people running this race, it was their first. Their first 5k. Their first race. Their first time stepping outside of their comfort zone.

I had been having problems with my hamstring seizing up on me, so at the start line, I was silently praying that it would not give me any trouble. It was the first race unveiling my Ironman race shirt. There was another guy in heat before me wearing one as well and I think I scared him when I saw him multiple times that day, even when we were riding the coasters afterwards.

Six Flags actually let us run inside the park and it was awesome running through an otherwise empty park with the colossal coasters gazing down upon us as we ran. My bottom gave me some trouble as there were some steep hills inside the park. Even so, I was disappointed in my time of 36 minutes.

As I rounded the outside of the park, I knew I was heading back in. I could hear the music and the MC. SHOWTIME. My body kicked into high gear, as it's used to doing. As my legs kicked with everything they had and I felt the wind on my face, I realized I could not have stopped this process, even if I tried. My body knows where that finish line is and loves to finish strong. I got cheers from spectators and even a group of policemen on their bikes - "Look at that kick!", "What a strong finish!", "Go get 'em, Irongirl!". I LIVE for those moments. Even though I couldn't reply to them, I heard them loud and clear. They were oxygen to my fire.

Once I finished, I did something I never do - I went back and waited for other finishers. Chris was still out there and would be finishing as well. As I relaxed and enjoyed eating my post-race meal (a banana and a bottle of water), I saw a woman that I saw during the race. Sometimes I'd pass her, sometimes she'd pass me, so I congratulated on her finishing.

She smiled and said "I'd have to say, you are the master of those hills. I can handle the downhills, but you just zip right up those hills. How do you do it?".

I smiled in return, "Just look down". My HS track coaches would have loved to hear this - they are the ones who taught me how to do that.

"That's it?", she asked.

That's it", I said.

Back at the finish line, more people were coming through. More people finishing what they never thought they could do. One old man finished with a "#207" pinned to his chest and he shook the hand of all of the spectators waiting. He wobbled and looked like he might fall, so I kept a watch on him to see if he was okay or if I needed to get someone, however, fortunately a volunteer took his arm and helped him off the course. From his legs I could tell he had emphysema, so he must have lost a lot of weight.

Chris came in shortly after, accompanied by 2 women. I always joke that he's such a ladies' man because the women just flock around him.They hugged him and thanked him for completing the race with them. I waved to him as he came in.

Later we sat down for a post-race snack, and got to talk with some of the TV show participants from the Biggest Loser. Then the older man I saw crossing the finishing line came to sit down with his wife. He had won the 70+ age group division and started telling some of his story. The "#207" he wears on his shirt was the amount of weight he lost. Being able to talk with him was such a delight! He told of his struggles and how he started racing at an older age because he finally could. Then he said that his wife doesn't run with him but he's never alone - in his struggles or his races because God is right beside him. Now, I'm not a religious person, however, hearing his words and listen to him tell his story with tears in eyes touched me in a way that words can never express.

Later, when I was searching on the Biggest Loser website for pictures, I serendipitously found out that I had finished 9th in my age group (out of 32 runners). I've never been in the Top 10 of anything, so it was quite a thrill for me! Imagine what I could do if I was back training full time and injury-free!!! 9th place now, and work on getting even better from here! It made me sooo happy to see that on their page.

This race was bittersweet. My physical therapist says that my body needs a break, telling me my next race should be my last race of the streak... and I'll admit that I could feel it during the run, too. So I will not be making 12 races in 12 weeks. However, at this point, I did complete 5 races in 5 weeks, which took me 5 months to complete last year. That's not too shabby, and who knows, if I take a week off, maybe I can continue for another 5 weeks after that.

The Fight for Air Climb

So a little background on "12 Races in 12 Weeks" - I had taken a look at my schedule and noticed that I had tentatively planned 12 races back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back in 12 weeks, one scheduled after the other. It was overly ambitious normally and especially so because I'm currently going through physical therapy to repair my sprained bottom and my lower left leg from old injuries. My physical therapist laughed when I told him what I wanted to do, and gave me the green light (although... to be fair, he gave me the green light to 4 races in a row. haha)

The Fight for Air Climb  was a vertical race up 51 flights of stairs in one of the tallest buildings in downtown Atlanta - 191 Peachtree Tower. It was a fundraiser for the American Lung Association and each participant had to raise $100 to be able to join. I came across it while looking for more races. It was unusual, unique and sounded like quite a challenge.

I'm not going to lie - it intimidated me greatly and every time I'd see that building, I swore I saw it mocking me, taunting me. I had dinner at the Sundial next to it and every time we'd pass around to see it eye-to-eye, it would just loom before me, bathed in an ominous blue light, almost challenging me. "You can't survive climbing me", it would say.

However, race day came and 600 of us lined up at the bottom, waiting to take on the building - one at a time. It was unusually cold and rainy and we shivered outside. We weren't in a hurry to start the climb, but wanted to get inside to warm up. My friend Jennifer signed up to climb with me and I was thankful to have someone with me.

They let us start 10 seconds between each runner. I let her go first and caught up to her. The first water stop was on level 8 and we were already huffing and puffing by then. She unfortunately started feeling a little sick and needed to stop, although told me to finish for her. 

After the EMT came to escort her back down, I continued. There were 3 more water stops along the way and I stopped at all of them. They had volunteers on random levels to cheer you on and help you keep going. I was wearing my Ironman shirt and they all seemed to like it.

I also made sure to stop on random levels when I felt my breathing and my heart rate speed up. Just 5 to 10 seconds and then I was off again. I saw too many people nearly collapsing in the stairwell, unable to take another step because they kept going and didn't take breaks to regulate their breathing or heart rate. It was musty in there and the air quality wasn't all that great.

The floor seemed to have 4 sets of stairs in between each and then only had two sets of stairs between each the higher I got. They passed quickly, but it was in no way easy.

Finally, we have two more to go. I even said breathlessly to the volunteer, "Only two more?". My legs were screaming, I was running low. They served Powerade at the water stations below and I took one, thinking the sugar would help me. It did not and I felt nauseous for some of the climb after that. So my body was set on two more floors and not a step more.

I hit the 49th floor and there was a time clock and lots of people and cheering. I blinked and imagine I look quite perplexed in the picture they just snapped of me. But....we're at 49... not 51? Two of the floors were in the basement, they explained. That's great... but where are my 51? I was geared up for 51 and ready for 2 more!!! 

Regardless, I had finished - 29 minutes, which included the time waiting for the EMT to come help my friend.  I took a break at the top to enjoy the view... or at least all the view I could see. It was pretty foggy up there and at the top, the taunts and intimidation I had felt from the building faded away into the mist down below. Now when I see the building, I can't help but smile at the sight of my new friend.

Many, many thanks go towards the people who donated to help me accomplish this and to the people who cheered me on. :)

Cheating - It's wrong.

In life, in races - there's no place for it. Period.

My old high school track coach used to say "If you cheat on running corners, you will cheat on your taxes, you will cheat on your wife, you will cheat in life". The smart ass I am, I used to say "What if I don't have a wife?" with a smirk and then he'd go on to say "cheat on your husband, cat, fish...". Humor aside, he had a point and his words have always stayed with me.

During my last Spartan race, I even saw a couple of people taking short cuts through the woods, so even though the people in the picture got caught, it's not a new thing... to any race.A picture was released this week from a Spartan race catching a few someones in the act... and is caused a fire storm. Racers were upset and rightfully so. But then, people got upset at them - saying they had no right to judge, that we don't know their story, that they aren't elite racers so it doesn't matter, mind your own business, at least they got off the couch, and so on ad nauseum.

I was appalled. Fortunately, someone else was too and wrote about it. He captured my sentiments exactly.

If you want a participation medal for getting off the couch, make your own. Have our standards dropped so low that we think we need to applaud people for just standing up and getting off their rear ends? Shame on us that we've become such a lazy society that getting out of a seat needs to be celebrated. Let's not stop there! What about waking up on time without hitting the snooze button too many times? (I'd NEVER get that medal). Or going to the bathroom? Or putting food in your mouth? (I'd miss out on this one too -I'm a messy eater). Geezus criminy.Wussification of America indeed. I think the cheaters need their medals taken away from them and I think it's sad most will consider this a controversial statement. Cheaters should stay on the couch, IMO.

Don't get me wrong. I applaud and respect the Spartan race and all of these other OCRs for getting usually sedentary people out and doing something they never thought they could do. People that don't think they are athletic are out there climbing 8 foot walls. That's freaking fantastic! Kudos all the way. Spartans and other OCRs are there to stretch your limits and challenge you in ways you never thought possible. Getting off the couch is the first step and only the first step. By no means do they mean stop there. You also have to have the courage to start and the determination to finish. Get up off the couch and go challenge yourself. Do something you never thought you could do. Their slogan is "Sign up. Show up" - and that doesn't mean to stop at "show up" and expect a medal. "Well... at least he showed up".  No, no, no, NO.

Then today, someone wrote this piece about it and it made me fume. Yet another one of the "how dare you judge cheaters" crowd, but this one hit a special nerve. The author went further to say that the people calling the cheaters out were the true bad guys and that it doesn't affect us at all.

Point taken. It doesn't affect me - you are right. My t-shirt and medal have value because of what I placed on them and no one can ever take that away. They are receiving the same t-shirt and medal, however, they have to live with themselves and look at themselves in the mirror every morning. Why does this upset me and others then?

I think because the athletes of the Spartan and other OCRs are, on the whole, extraordinary. It takes something special (and maybe a little crazy... Or okay, a lot crazy) to want to challenge yourself to those types of extremes. It takes a certain kind of courage to stand at that start line even though you are afraid. Everyday people from all walks of life are trying to make their lives better, improve themselves, and challenge themselves beyond their limits. That's not easy to do - that takes a really special person to be able to do that. These are the nicest people I have met and they are readily (and excitingly) willing to welcome you into their newfound OCR family. Strangers help people over walls, they encourage each other, they volunteer their time - they are extraordinary. Amazing stories come out of OCR - people overcoming personal tragedy, people who don't let "disabilities" stop them, people wanting more out of life...

So ask me again why cheating bothers me so much when it doesn't really affect me. I hold my fellow Spartans to a higher standard than most people because I know they ARE extraordinary and those people in that picture didn't meet that standard. I'm a member of GORMR (Georgia Obstacle Course Racers and Mud Runners) and our team is made out of elite racers, racers that have lost 100 lbs or more, racers that run in pain, racers without full use of their limbs, racers without legs and even more inspirational people who encourage me to hold myself to a higher standard. Maybe I'm spoiled by such an awesome team that doesn't represent the OCR community on a whole and if that's the case, then that's sad. Cheating bothers the people who worked hard and completed the task(s) with everything they had... or in some cases, completed without anything left.

It's not only cheating in OCR that's a problem. I've heard of people getting on transit during the Atlanta Peachtree 10k Road Race just after the start and riding to the finish. When I first started running it, they didn't have enough t-shirts for everyone and you had to finish under a certain time to obtain one. They were very coveted and people would stop at nothing to get one.

The writer in the article that made me so mad said that elite runners need to give everyone a break because we're not all elites and basically, that we've all cheated at one time or another. I'm an average runner and far from being elite and not running for points, however, I give 110% out there. I may not be "elite", but don't mistake that and think I'm not "competitive" (even if I am only competing with myself). I may not be able to complete all of the obstacles on my own and do more than my fair share of burpees, but I do every single one of them. The last Spartan I participated in, I was so out of it that I lost count of how many burpees I did, so in order to not skimp, I did extra.  I run races in the rain and even in freezing rain. I've been pushed to my most uncomfortable and wanted to stop but did not. When I couldn't drag a 100+ lb tire by myself, I asked for help. I've run half-marathons in excruciating pain - broken tailbones, sprained bottoms, IT band problems during the whole 13.1 miles. "Just Enough" is never enough for me. Of course it's not easy; it's not meant to be. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's hard. OCRs and other races have literally taken my blood, sweat and tears. However, I don't think I'd have the sense of pride that I have in my accomplishments if I hadn't sacrificed what I have or did not give 110%. And for the record, you do not speak for me - I have not and will never cheat.

So, yes... I may be a "Spartan Kool-Aid Drinker". It changed my life, introduced me to my OCR family, caused me to face my fears, challenged me in ways I never thought possible, expanded my comfort zone, pushed my limits and I'd never trade that for the world. Doing all the obstacles and all the burpees helped shaped me into who I am and continue to help me with life lessons. I owe a lot to it.

Coddle the cheaters. Give them passes/excuses/what have you. Judge me for calling them out, but I will NOT apologize for holding racers to a higher standard and expecting more from them. Anything less would be an insult to the racers that give everything and don't cut corners, no matter how hard it gets.

We're Spartans. Act like it.

The 2014 Spartan Sprint

It's 12 days away.

Nervousness has been replaced with excitement. It's beginning to feel like a family reunion of sorts and I'm feeding off of everyone's excited energy. It's one of the reasons I love OCR so much - it's a celebration of life with like-minded people. Everyone I've met so far has found this path through struggle or overcoming some big challenge in their lives. All of them have been through "baptism through fire" and it's changed their outlook on life. It's intoxicating to be around people like that. Their attitudes towards life only fuel my own fire.

12 days. I'm pumped. I'm stoked. And I swore I'd never run an OCR again after my first one, the Run for Your Lives Zombie 5k. Now I'm running this one for the 2nd time and am registered for the ROC Race in April, plus with 2 more on the books.

When the race was about a month away, my mind started playing tricks on me. In my dreams at night, the 8 foot wall grew to 30 feet and the top of it was lost in the clouds above. "It's not 30 ft, it's EIGHT", I'd snarl with gritted teeth as I made that wall shrink back down to it's proper size. My mind would remind me of the pain and the fear I felt last year. I remind it that I made it through last year - with a smile. I AM A SPARTAN. Nothing can ever take that away from me.

Before the first "big" road race I ran (the US 10k Classic on my 18th birthday), I had a haircut scheduled a few days just before the race and I did really well on the race. Since then, having a haircut before a big race is almost like a good luck ritual to me. I used to do it before my racing season began, however, since I started running at least one race per month last year, I don't really have a "season" anymore. ;)

Haircut is scheduled for this Saturday. The last one I had was almost a year ago - just before the first time I ran the Georgian Spartan Sprint. Things started feeling real after I scheduled the haircut. This is happening. This is happening SOON.

Madness? THIS. IS. SPARTAAAAAAAA!!!!!!