Mississippi Blues Marathon

I'm going to try to avoid procrastinating on my write-up about this one while it is still somewhat fresh in my mind. Ah, but now it is days later and I am still trying to finish it!

The Mississippi Blues Marathon is in Jackson, Mississippi. I've had this one on list of potential races for my 50 states for awhile. The other marathon in Mississippi, Tupelo, takes place in August, which seems like it could be truly ghastly. January seems like a much more sensible time to run in the deep south.

After getting through my Indianapolis debacle, I started looking at potential states with races coming up, and I figured out that I had enough miles for a free ticket on United to get to Jackson. I did try at first to get Tommy to drive there with me, but he was afraid there might be snow in along the way. So I flew there by myself.

I didn't do any special training for this race. The farthest I ran since Indianapolis was eight miles and I only did that a couple of times. I didn't do any speed work except for the two 5k races and the Thanksgiving five-mile race, which did all go pretty well. Although I didn't do any long runs, I have been training pretty consistently---I've had a streak going since early December (would be early November except for the one time on December 1 when I just forgot!).

I wasn't worried about finishing, of course. I hoped to just settle in to a nice, easy jog and get through it in good enough shape so I could do a bit of touristing after the race, and be able to jump right back in to more serious training this week. And basically, that's what happened.

Finding My Way Around Jackson (or Searching for a Neighborhood that Feels Like Home)

I'll admit that Jackson is not a city that I knew much about prior to my visit. It is the capital of Mississippi, and the largest city based on population. Two of its most notable citizens were the writer, Eudora Welty, and the slain civil rights leader, Medgar Evers. The library system is named after Welty, and the airport is named after Evers. Point of interest, they are connected to each other by a story Welty wrote the night she heard Evers was killed, in which she imagines what was going through the mind of his murderer.

I'm no literature scholar, and I really didn't know much about Eudora Welty except I had heard her name. Maybe I read a story by her in a high school American Lit class, or maybe not. Anyway, I decided to download a collection of her short stories to my Kindle to read on the trip. I'm enjoying them. Going to read some more. Someday maybe I will become educated. There's hope.

I love touring old houses, and I had hoped to be able to have time for a tour of Welty's home. Unfortunately, it is only open Tuesday through Friday, and I arrived in Jackson too late to make the last tour. I picked up my rental can and headed for the Marriott. I needed the rental car if I wanted to venture out anywhere because there really isn't that much within walking distance of the Marriott.

After parking the car and checking into the hotel, I walked the short distance (about .4 miles) to the race expo at the convention center.

Packet pickup went pretty quick. The timing chip was attached to the back of the race bib. We got a drawstring gear bag, a short-sleeved technical top, and a harmonica. The gear bag and shirt are useful and well-designed but ugly. And I was expecting a long-sleeved shirt, or at least a short sleeve shirt in a woman's cut. The harmonica is a cute touch, but since it is made in China I could do without it. But I am having fun playing it now and making Eddy & Zen howl.

They also gave us a copy of a CD of blues music that is pretty good. Oh, and a wrist band that would get you on a bus Saturday night that was going to basically go barhopping around blues joints, supposedly a $10 value. So you get a lot for your money at this race.

Overall, I was disappointed in the expo. It was quite small. I guess this race isn't as big as I thought it was. There were just a couple of vendors and no speakers. I bought a tube of something called Skin Sake Athletic Ointment, and yet another fanny pack from iFitness. The ointment did its job, but it does make a mess of your clothes, especially if you are wearing black!

iFitness is a sponsor of The Marathon Show podcast. I bought the fanny pack because I wanted something that would hold all my gels plus have an attachment for my race bib. The little belt I have been using for my race bib doesn't have a very big pocket for gels. Unfortunately, I realized when I finally tried it on that this iFitness belt has the pouch in the front, and I am not used to that and didn't want to try it out for the first time in a marathon. So I ended up wearing TWO fanny packs---my little one that holds my race number, and my bigger one for my gels, credit card, room key, ID, etc.

Here's a picture of the gear bag. I think it's ugly but that's just my opinion. It has a little zipper pocket on the side and is a useful item, nonetheless. I ended up using it as my carry on for the flights home so I could check my roller bag. I know I looked kind of baglady-esque but I did it anyway.

I left the expo and walked back to the hotel. The hotel restaurant was supposedly offering a "runner's menu" that evening. The race had not organized a pasta dinner of its own. I think that is something they should consider, since there is really a dearth of restaurants in downtown Jackson that are open in the evenings. Seems like they pretty much just roll up the sidewalks at the end of the work day. A number of places are open for lunch but very few for dinner.

The "runner's menu" did not look promising. Definitely not the traditional pasta. Instead, something like risotto with asparagus and mushrooms. Also a couple of seafood entrees. Yeah, not really what I had in mind. I just wanted basic Italian spaghetti and meatballs.

I decided to venture out in my car. First I thought I would try to find a shopping center where I might be able to buy a cheap rain poncho that I could wear to the start in the morning if it was raining. I tried to use my GPS and found a place called "Metrocenter Mall" about three miles away.

Trying to follow the directions on the GPS, I found myself leaving the core downtown area within a couple of blocks and getting into what appeared to be a not-so-great neighborhood. It was still a couple of miles to the mall. Then we drove across an area of some empty fields and industry, and I wondered if maybe when I came out on the other side I might find myself in one of those new areas of McMansions and a really nice upscale mall, as sometimes happens.

Wrong.

I did come to the mall, or what used to be the mall. Looked like maybe it used to be a nice mall. Up on a hill with big anchor stores and an expansive parking lot all around. But all the signs had been stripped off the stores, and there were just a few cars in the parking lot. A ghost mall. I guess there are still some small stores in there but no anchors. Looked kind of creepy.

At this point I was getting hungry so I decided to let the GPS guide me to one of the restaurants listed in the race information, a branch of the Bravo chain. It was killing me to have to go to a chain restaurant for dinner but at least these are usually in somewhat upscale areas so I figured it would be okay.

Unfortunately, since the Bravo turned out to be on the second floor of a shopping center on the other side of town (the good side, as it turned out) it was a little hard to find at first. But on the way, I did come upon a supermarket, where I bought the following items:

• A bunch of bananas
• A six-pack of beer (there was a fridge in my hotel room)
• A bag of pretzel rods

I don't know when I thought I was going to eat all these bananas or drink all the beer. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

There was a shopping center across the street from the market that looked like it had some restaurants in it. That was where the GPS said Bravo was supposed to be. I drove over and knew that I must be headed in the right direction, and also had an indication that this was probably the part of town where "people like me" are supposed to hang out: there was a Whole Foods under construction. Go ahead, laugh at me.

This little shopping center, Highland Village, felt just like home. There was a fancy outdoor store. There was a Talbots. There was a cookware store. There was a serious shoe store. I am a little embarrassed that I needed to find a place like this rather than seeking out a more authentic experience. Instead I always seem to seek out the place where I could live if I had to.

So, anyway, after a bit of walking around (there wasn't much signage and it was hard to see the store directory in the dark) I was able to locate the restaurant. Also, by smell! I saw a few other runners (we are that obvious) also on their way to Bravo. There really just weren't many other options for a pre-race pasta meal in Jackson, unfortunately.

If I had taken a closer look in my race packet, or I would have realized that Bravo was giving a 15% discount to runners.

Bravo was hopping, even though it was still pretty early in the evening, but they found me a spot at the food bar.

Maybe I should have had a pizza, but I really just wanted plain old spaghetti and meatballs. Well, maybe not so plain. It's me we're talking about, after all. I wasn't going to drink, since I was my own designated driver, but I decided one glass of Chianti wouldn't hurt. I ordered a salad of field greens with some goat cheese to start, and the spaghetti & meatballs.

While I waited for my salad, I had some bread. Here was a problem. I wanted some olive oil for my bread. The olive oil was in a carafe in front of the woman sitting on my left. This woman, a fellow runner, was deep in conversation with the woman on HER left, another runner. She was turned away from me and I would need to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention.

So I nibbled on my bread, and waited for her to maybe turn a little in my direction so I could just ask her to pass me the olive oil.

And I felt lonely and sad there, suddenly, in the restaurant by myself, and missed the old days when I used to travel to these races with other people. Note to self, really need to rejoin local running club and make some running friends to travel with. Tired of these solitary race weekends.

I would not have minded talking to a stranger, even. And as I listened to these women's conversation, I kinda wondered why they didn't include me. It didn't sound like they really knew each other from before. They were not the same age, and did not appear to be related. They seemed to be two people who had just met that day.

Maybe it's because I don't look like a runner! Maybe that's why they didn't include me! I just look like some weird old woman who is out eating spaghetti by herself the night before the marathon.

Anyway, she did turn eventually and I got my chance to request the olive oil. Which she did but she seemed a little put out about it. Huh. And the worst part? The olive oil was rancid! I was so hungry it took me a few minutes to figure this out. Bummer. I debated saying something to my server, but he wasn't real communicative so I didn't bother. Instead, I posted it on Facebook. The passive aggressive response to disappointing service in the social media era!

The food arrived and it turned out that my glass of wine was probably the best part of the meal. The lettuce was a little wilted on the salad (the goat cheese was good, though). The spaghetti was actually linguine, which bothered me. It just wasn't right. The sauce was bland. The meatballs were okay but also kind of bland. Not great.

I did not order dessert at Bravo. By that point I had a close enough view of all their food preparations, including dessert, to know that it was not going to be worth it. Hoped that the little bakery/coffeeshop I had spied on the first floor was still open.

Fortunately, it was. Beagle Bakery Cafe had a nice selection of fresh, store-made cakes. I ordered a big slice of a chocolate and cream cheese concoction  (kind of like an opera cream cake) to take back to my room. (I would have taken a picture but I ate it too fast.) This cafe, by the way, is a very good place and I wish I had remembered to head back there on Saturday or Sunday.

Back at the hotel, I realized that I didn't get any kind of utensil to eat my cake with. I managed to eat half of it by scooping it up with a lid from a water bottle, and saved the second half for breakfast or maybe after the race.

Race Morning

My usual routine is to get up 2 1/2 hours before the race, which gives me a half hour to drink coffee and finish up two hours before the race in order to avoid needing to stop during the race to use the portapotties. But this time, I really did not want to get up at 4:30 am, even if I had picked up an hour traveling to Central time. I decided that I didn't care if I did need to stop during the race, since my time didn't matter to me anyway. So I got up at 5 am.

I had one cup of coffee, and the plan was to have a banana and maybe a Picky Bar. Or my leftover cake. But I was still really stuffed from dinner! Yes, I have been complaining about the food but I still cleaned my plate! So I skipped breakfast.

I watched the news (rain looked likely late morning), lubed up, settled on my race attire and attached my bib to the fuel belt. I wore black tights, black longsleeved top, black hat from Delaware Marathon (because it is fairly water-repellant) and thin red jacket. Oh, and thin black gloves. So I was mostly in black, which I think will be okay because it isn't supposed to be sunny, and will hopefully make me look less fat in any finish line photos.

The temperature outside was in the low 30s and it was supposed to get up in the 40s but that wouldn't be until afternoon when I was done running. It will rain later in the race (when you tell me 30-40% chance of rain I know that means it is going to rain!) but at least it's not raining at the start, and not very windy, so at least it was not as miserable out as it was for Indy.

I wanted to stay in the room until 6:30 but I got bored before that and headed down to the lobby. Lots of runners down there. The hotel put out some water, and what looked like fruit punch in a bowl, but I guess was Gatorade. But who knows, since they thought we would all want risotto and mushrooms the night before.

I followed along with the crowd as people began walking to the start, which was about .3 miles away. Up at the start, the portapotty lines were long, and I'm glad I didn't need to go. Did not need to stop at all during the race, either, so that part worked out.

I found a pace team guy holding a 5:00 sign, so I decided to hang out with him and whomever else is in that group. My goal was just to finish comfortably, but it would be nice to be under 5:00. If I start out slow enough that's probably about right, but you never know.

This pace guy is not like the ones I've encountered in other races. He's not talking. He's not gathering the troops together and giving us words of encouragement. Great, the one time I actually think I would like one of those overly cheery pace team leaders, I get stuck with this guy.

I chatted a bit with a couple of women. One is from Tupelo, and she tells me that their race isn't THAT hot. Right. The other lives in Jackson and works for Blue Cross so she gets reimbursed if she finishes. Neither one of them is planning on finishing under five hours. But 5:00 is the slowest pace team at this race. Looking around, I realize that it is a lot smaller race than I imagined, which doesn't matter one way or the other but is interesting. It is a small town, small race with big race amenities.

There are a lot of Maniacs at this one, though. Looking around, it seems like a majority of the runners are Marathon Maniacs, and I kind of wish that I was wearing my Maniac gear. Why don't I do that? Why do I always want to be anonymous? I guess because I don't feel like I really belong with the Maniacs, since I am just a Maniac at the lowest level. Note to self: get more involved with the 50 States people and the Maniacs. To start with, maybe try paying my dues this year.

The Race

As we begin running, I settle right into a pace just under 11 minutes per mile. That does feel like a comfortable jog. I pull ahead of the 5:00 pace team leader, and hope that I won't have to feel the shame of being passed by him later in the race. He still wasn't talking, and he was kind of holding his pace sign over his shoulder rather than up in the air, and I was worried when I got close to him that he would poke me in the eye with it.

The first two miles take us away from downtown. The hills are rolling but not bad at all from my perspective. Overall, it was not as challenging a course as I had expected. While it is hilly throughout, none of the hills were very steep or very long. Basically, the course is a couple of miles around the city, then 20 miles or so through the suburban neighborhoods, and then back through the city.

We passed through the neighborhood of Fondren, supposedly an arty area (although it just seemed seedy to me when I drove through it later) which is also where the hospitals are located. Around mile three, we turned off into a pleasant residential area. I enjoyed looking at the pretty houses and tall trees. There were a lot of people out in their yards cheering for us.

The first hour went by almost before I knew it, but it was a little disheartening to think that I had four more hours to go.

Around mile six, we were alongside Hwy 55 and I realized we were right by Highland Plaza, where I'd eaten the night before. Miles 3-17 were mostly residential, with some small, cute bungalows, modest older homes (a few being replaced by McMansions), and one area of actual mansions. It was a very nice course to run.

My pace had crept up over 11 but I wasn't struggling. I caught up with the 4:55 pace team leader, whom I had not noticed at the start. He was running by himself. He told me that he was a few minutes ahead of schedule, and he was wondering if that was why he had lost the rest of his team. Duh. Where did they find these people? Really not like any pace teams I have seen in other races. I ran a little off and on with this guy. Actually the only two people I spoke to during the race were this guy and the 5:00 guy (who did catch up to me and pass me at one point, before I woke myself up and left him behind).

I went through the first half around 2:25 or so. I was still feeling pretty good.

I had a GU pack every 3-4 miles or so. The aid stations came up regularly just about every two miles as promised. They were all well-staffed with volunteers.

There was a period when I was about halfway done that the sun came out, and I actually removed my jacket and wondered if I was going to overheat in my black clothes. But that didn't last for very long!

There was a group of three women I encountered repeatedly in the middle miles of the race. They were pretty, skinny Southern belle types dressed in cute little running outfits, chatting among themselves. I hated them. I was happy when I finally left them behind.

There was another group of Maniac women running together and I was a little envious not to be recognized as a member of their club, and jealous that they probably get to do this type of thing every weekend, being Maniacs and all. I overheard one say that she didn't even start to feel warmed up anymore until mile 20. I passed them eventually, too.

In miles 21-22 we retraced our steps on State Street towards downtown, then we made a loop of the city. This was probably the least attractive part of the race, and I wondered why they didn't do this part first to get it over with. It also started raining around this point, but it was a very light shower and not continuous. Nothing like the horrible freezing rain in Indy. I slowed to a 12:18 in mile 19, but after that I got back down
into the 11s.

We passed the Marriott, and I thought about how much better I was feeling at this race than I had when I passed my hotel in Indianapolis. I felt great, and I pushed harder the last mile to drop down to a 9:28 pace, crossing the finish line in 4:51:58 chip time. For the record, 6 of 26 in the age group (it is apparently a slow person's race), 156 of 289 women, 474 of 740 runners overall.

I got my space blanket and my medal and was going to just hurry back to the hotel to warm up (it was getting cold) but I decided to check out the food tent. I'm glad I did because they had most excellent post-race food, enough that I didn't have to pick up lunch on the way back to the hotel. They had pizza, deli sandwiches (my turkey sandwich!), hot soup (tomato basil) and red beans & rice. So I had a little bit of everything. There were tables set out on the lawn and a blues band playing but it wasn't the kind of weather to sit and hang out. So I ate my food standing up and headed back to the hotel.

Two things from the walk back:
1) There was a pretty park about a block from the hotel that looked rather deserted, and without going into too much detail, let me just say that I surmise that this is where Jacksonians go to buy and sell their drugs.

2) I passed another marathoner, a young woman also wrapped in her space blanket. She turned to me and said "Do you know you are awesome?" I wanted to say, "you are an idiot, we just finished a marathon, big whoopdeedoo, anybody can do it, there is nothing awesome about it." But I told her she was awesome too.

A couple of hours later, when I was ready to venture out for touristing, I could look out my hotel window and she the last of the marathoners finishing and the sag wagon picking up the traffic cones. I would not have liked being out there another two hours in the rain!

Tourist Time

By the time I decided to head out for some tourist activities, there wasn't very much open. I thought I could go see the Medgar Evers home, but I pushed the wrong button on the GPS and it took me to a senior citizen center instead. Then I realized that the home wasn't open to the public anyway.

Next, I had the GPS direct me to the Eudora Welty house. I thought maybe it would be open even though all the info I had said no. I found it in the Belhaven neighborhood, parts of which we had run through during the race. But the house wasn't open. I drove around Belhaven a little more, and then I took another look in the guide book to find something nearby that might be open.

I ended up at the Mississippi Museum of Natural Science, which is located in a state park not far from downtown. I spent about 90 minutes walking around the museum. On this rainy afternoon, the museum was full of families with young children. They were featuring a dinosaur exhibit, I guess because that is what brings families into science museums, but I was more interested in the displays about the flora and fauna of Jackson.

After a pretty thorough walk around the museum, I headed back to the hotel. I was getting hungry for dinner, but not sure if I would go to the restaurant where I had a reservation, just stay in the hotel for dinner, or go out on the Blues Tour bus to a burger place. The blues tour sounded like fun but maybe not so much for an old woman traveling alone. If I were still in my 20s, heck even in my 30s. And single. Or if I were traveling with a bunch of friends...but by myself, it didn't seem like quite the right thing.

I drove through Fondren on my way back, hoping maybe I'd see some place there that looked promising, but it all just looked too seedy and sketchy. Maybe it's really not, but I'm just saying that as a woman traveling alone that is how it looked to ME.

I mulled my options over while sipping one of the beers (Lazy Magnolia Deep South Pale Ale) I'd bought the night before and munching on the pretzel rods.

Dinner at Parlor Market by myself seemed appropriate, but I was a little worried about the walk there alone in the dark. It was only .3 miles from my hotel, so it seemed silly to drive or take a cab (although I noticed that the was plenty of street parking available when I drove by the restaurant, so I could have parked practically right in front of it). Downtown Jackson is not necessarily unsafe, but very empty and isolated, and there wasn't much activity going on in between the restaurant and my hotel. But I really didn't want to eat in the hotel.

So I decided to be brave and get myself to the restaurant. It was raining, so I bundled up my parka and put up my hood, and I actually sort of jogged there. One block down and two blocks over. I did pass one other restaurant along the way that seemed to have some business, and there were a couple of women on a street corner a block from the restaurant (might have been "professionals") but otherwise I didn't see a soul at 6:45 pm on a Saturday night.

In the end, it was a good decision. The maitre d' welcomed me warmly, and escorted me to a seat at the raw bar. It was cleaner and less hectic than the food bar at Bravo.

My waiter came to take my drink order, and I was thinking beer since I'd already had one and I didn't want a hangover, but they had this enormous cocktail menu---apparently it is a serious cocktail place---and, as the waiter pointed out, I was wearing martini glass earrings, so....I asked him to suggest something. Since I like gin, he selected The Aviator. This is a combo of Plymouth Gin, lemon juice, maraschino liqueur, and creme de violette (whatever that is).

It's not quite frozen, like a margarita, but it's a little slushy. Kind of like a gin slushie. I loved it. It was my favorite part of the meal.

The other things I ordered were well-prepared and tasty, but I found myself wishing I had made other selections. As an appetizer, I had the duck sausage.

This was two sausage links on a bed of grits with a garnish of duck cracklings and some sort of sauce underneath. The sausage was just a little too rich for one person. The grits and the cracklings and the sauce were wonderful, and a good balance for the sausage. Anyway, I ate one of the links and took the other one back to the hotel to enjoy later with my pretzel rods (ended up eating this for breakfast, actually, and it was pretty good that way).

For my entree, I ordered the red snapper, served with mashed potatoes and a sort of corn relish.

A green vegetable as something other than garnish might have been nice in there somewhere. My meal was a little heavy on the corn. If I had known better, I would have gone for a couple of the specials the waiter told me about: the foie gras appetizer, and the hanger steak entree. Umm, I guess that would have been a bit on the rich side, too.

A few other runners came in and sat beside me at the food bar but we did not speak. The woman on my right ordered a cup of tomato soup appetizer and what appeared to be a crock of cheese as her entree. I think I at least made better choices than that!

I did not skip dessert. The night after a marathon is no time to start a diet! I had Parlor Market's take on a s'more, which my waiter told me was his personal invention in college:

 This was sort of a deconstructed s'more. Basically, chocolate mousse in a little glass jar (was kind of hard to get it all out of the jar!) topped with toasted marshmallow fluff, and with the graham crackers on the side. I ate almost all of it.

And at that point, I was totally stuffed. I waddled back home, a bit less nervous than I had been on the way there. The rain had stopped. I did see a bunch of young women on their way in to the restaurant, and a couple of women across the street from my hotel (those two were pros, I'm pretty sure) but otherwise, nobody.

Another Half-Day of Touristing

First thing I did Sunday morning was head out for my little one mile run to continue my "streak." Oh yeah, I'm streaking again. Over a month now. If it had been raining I would have gone to the hotel gym and hit the treadmill, but it was a nice morning so I just hit the street. I thought I might just do a few laps around the block to be on the safe side, but found myself heading up towards the convention center, then down another block and back by the park.

Noticed at least two other people out running. Also saw that they had some sort of prayer service or outreach gathering in the park, where it looked like they were serving hot beverages to, possibly, homeless people. Otherwise, there was nobody out yet. Even the churches were quiet.

When I'm just doing the mile on the treadmill, I have no problem stopping, but it felt really strange to head back into the hotel after just one mile. I was just getting warmed up! But there was nothing to be gained by running any further, so I stopped.

I had considered eating a big breakfast in the hotel, but I was still full from the night before. So I just nibbled on my leftover duck sausage with a few of the pretzel rods before I checked out.

After looking through my assortment of informational brochures, the one thing that looked like it was open to the public on a Sunday morning (besides going to church) was the zoo, which was just a couple of miles away. So that's where I went.

Jackson Zoological Park is a nice little zoo. I was one of their first customers that morning, and for a bit of time had the place all to myself, except for the workers (who kept waving and smiling at me). After a bit, I was joined by a couple of families.

I spent about two hours at the zoo. It was a sunny morning and warmer than the day before, which made for a pleasant walk. I spent a lot of time looking at the big cats (among them, Sumatran Tigers and Florida Panthers) and the giraffes and the birds. The zoo has a nice collection of animals, and although the enclosures were not all exactly state-of-the-art, the animals all looked healthy. It was just around feeding time for most of them and they were pretty active.

Here's a picture of some kind of crazy bird that makes a lot of noise when he flaps his wings:

Here's a picture of the Australian Kookaburra, which makes a lot of noise in general.

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree

Merry, merry king of the bush is he

Laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra

Gay your life must be!

Walking around I realized that it has been a long time since I've been to a zoo of any kind, and that I had forgotten how much I enjoy the zoo. Note to self, rejoin Cincinnati Zoo. Try to go there more often than once in a blue moon.

So, after I had made a rather thorough tour of the zoo, I still had a little time to kill before heading for the airport. I drove back downtown to the art museum, which would now be open.

I found a parking spot on the street right in front of the Mississippi Museum of Art, which is right downtown next to the convention center. This museum is in an attractive modern building and is free to the public. It took me about an hour to go through their permanent collection of works by Mississippi artists and artists who had spent time in Mississippi. I wish I had stopped in there sooner because it was really worth a little more time. I could have even walked there Saturday afternoon if I had thought about it.

And then it was time to head for the airport. Another state conquered at a slow and steady pace, and a little bit of tourist activity on the side, although not quite enough for me to feel, unfortunately, like I really got a sense of the place. So, I'm going to read some more Eudora Welty in compensation.

My Running Year in Review

I don't usually look at the year this way, because my running log starts anew over the summer and not on January 1. But I decided to take a look at it.

I ran 1336.56 miles in 2012, which is farther than in recent years but not quite up to the 1400 or more I probably ran before my knee surgery (and dog agility addiction!). I completed 18 races, which is also better than in recent years but not what I did "back in the day" (like the time I ran four races in one weekend).

I had what I will call a "post-knee surgery" PR in the half-marathon. Otherwise my race times were about the same as the last few years. At least I am not really getting any slower yet at the shorter distances.

I didn't have a lot of goals for this year. I achieved some of them:

• Got ranked again in the Running Spot newsletter.
• Finished in the top 12 of the Dirtiest Dozen trail series (although I dropped a spot from 7 to 8)

I think that's it if we're just looking at the calendar year.

I also failed on a couple:

• Did not qualify for Boston
• Did not lose another ten pounds. Hahaha. I should give up on that one. I think I actually not only failed to lose another ten pounds, but I gained back the ten I had lost.

So, it was an okay year, not great, not a disaster.