RunRaleigh Half Marathon Race Recap

Times don't matter when you get to run 13.1 miles with your BFF.

Piece of advice, if you're going to set a personal worst for a half marathon time, make sure you're running the race with one of your best friends.

Trust me. It makes the result a little less painful.

Yes. The RunRaleigh Half Marathon? My worst half marathon ever. Timewise. But in terms of fun? Oh, yes. So much fun.

Jess and I came up with this great idea back in February of me going out to visit her in Raleigh and we'd run the RunRaleigh Half Marathon while I was there. At that time, we had like 11 weeks until race day, plenty of time to train, prepare for the hills and get into half marathon shape.

Well, first the hill work outs vanished. And then I started missing some long runs. And, well, let's just say I was woefully unprepared. But the plane ticket had been purchased and I hadn't seen Jess in over a year, so I HAD to go. Thankfully we weren't running for any kind of time goal. Just to finish. And have fun.

Race morning dawn bright and early. Temps were in the low- to mid-50s, perfect weather for this Wisconsin girl. Although I did have to chuckle a bit to myself. While waiting for the race to start I could totally tell who the true southerners were - long pants, long sleeves and gloves.

The smile is hiding how much I'm struggling. And this is around Mile 2.

The gun went off and we started running. Uphill. I should have been tipped off immediately that this was going to be a rough day. But I thought it was just a short uphill. Well, we kept running and before we even made to the first mile marker this was feeling way too hard. I mean, seriously. I wasn't even a mile in! Well, I glanced behind me. No wonder if felt hard. I'd been running uphill for almost a mile.

Shoot me now.

I sucked it up. Took advantage of a short flat section - very short - and kept running.

For the first 8 miles or so, that's what it was. A constant barrage of hills. A nasty one right around Mile 4, but mostly rollers. And somewhere around Miles 5-7, it was a relatively flat section, but the pavement had this weird camber to it, which made it tough. And made my IT band slightly angry.

Somewhere around Mile 7. Obviously Jess and I have differing views on the hills.

So I had an angry IT band from the road camber and quads that were pretty much trashed from the hills in the first 8 miles or so. I made an attempt to run the downhills, but I caved and started walking the uphills. And then I found myself having to walk in the short flat sections.

Seriously. Had Jess not been by my side, I would have curled up on the side of the road, cried and waited to die. But she wouldn't leave me.

There was A LOT of walking between miles 9 and 12, when we were faced with another nasty uphill (one that was so fun to run down at Mile 4). Ironically, those were the flattest miles of the course. We were on this greenway through the woods, which seemed really pretty. And then I heard someone refer to it as "the woods where the rapists live." Oh. That's great. Or maybe the escaped prisoners. After all, we did pass two state prisons on the route.

I threw in some running, er, shuffling, during the final mile and amazingly had enough in the tank to really run it in to the finish line.

 Done!

A personal worst in terms of time. Not one that I'm proud of, but I was psyched to run with Jess. And I have to keep reminding myself that that was seriously the toughest half marathon course I've ever run. Even if I had kept up with long runs and been better with hill intervals, I'm pretty sure I would have still struggled. I'm just not sure how this Wisconsin girl could have prepared for that course.

Ooh! And I got to meet up with Carolina John! But more on that meeting later. Because my time with CJ wasn't limited to a quick hello at the starting line.

Up next: What I did during the rest of my vacation to Raleigh, otherwise known as the place where I could wear tank tops and flip flops!

Ironman Wisconsin Spectating Report

It's quickly becoming a September tradition.

Head down to Madison and spend all day running around cheering on a friend as they travel 140.6 miles. In the process? Get inspired and have an amazing day.

I went back down to Madison last weekend for Ironman Wisconsin spectating. Last year it was to cheer on my good friend Jeff as he completed his 10th Ironman (a number he's since increased to 11). This year I was there to cheer with my friend Myriah as her husband Josh tackled his first Ironman.

I headed down to Madison on Saturday after I finished my 13 miles run. I met up with Myriah and her family at their hotel and then we proceeded to hatch a plan on for spectating. Myriah and her Ironman-to-be would be leaving the hotel super early, I was responsible for making sure their families - I bet there was close to 20 of them - made it down to the Monona Terrace in the morning for the swim start.

I'm happy to report I did it. And no family members were lost!

We staked out a spot on the helix by my friend Jeff - who had come up to Wisconsin that weekend to do a triathlon and watch Josh at Ironman. It was hard to see the actual swim since we were in an area with a bunch of people. But if I stood on my tiptoes, I could catch a few glimpses of the swimmers. Of course, the swim start was just as cool as I remember it. About an hour after the pros started swimming, we could hear a roar coming up the helix and all of a sudden the first swimmer out of the water was running past us into transition.

Let me say, what I couldn't see of the swim was more than made up for by the spectating spot I had to watch athletes run into transition. For those going to spectate at IM Wisconsin in the future, I definitely recommend staking a spot out on the helix. So cool.

We gathered our group up and headed to the bus to go back to the Alliant Energy Center. Then it was time to hop in the car and head out to the bike course. Josh was flying on the bike, as in we weren't going to make it to the first planned bike spot in Verona at Mile 15. We decided to head out to Timber Lane instead. I thought we were going to the big hill on Timber Lane where I was spectating last year, but I was a poor navigator and took a wrong turn. So we were on Timber Lane, just AFTER the crest of the hill. Oops. It's OK though, we still saw Josh and then headed out to a location just west of Verona (around Mile 62) where we saw him again. Back to Timber Lane - the right spot on Timber Lane - for one final chance to see Josh on the bike.

Like last year, the energy on Timber Lane was amazing. Tour de France-like. Crowds lining the road. People in costumes. Drummers running alongside the athletes as they biked up the hill. So cool.

Once we saw Josh, we piled back in our cars (to give you an idea of the size of our group, we filled three cars) and headed back to downtown for the run. They jumped back on the bus. I jumped in my car to find parking near the Capitol Square so I could jump on my bike. My plan was to meet back up with Jeff and chase Josh around the run course.

First I waited right around the run out point for Josh to come through. While waiting, I caught a glimpse of the lead male, who had a huge lead on second place. And you know what? He kept increasing that lead throughout the rest of the afternoon on his way to a new course record. Amazing. He never looked tired. So fluid. So fast. Looked fresh.

Anyway, soon Josh came through and I was off. I made a pit stop by Myriah and told her my plan and that I'd be sending her updates throughout the afternoon. I met up with Jeff and we were off. With Jeff having done this race multiple times and both of being UW grads, it's not a surprise that we had a good idea of where to go and the shortcuts to get there. I think we ended up seeing Josh 5 or 6 times per 13 mile loop. And by the time he got to the second loop, we needed to know where those shortcuts were! I swear Josh was getting faster because we would barely beat him to the viewing points! He went through his cycles of good and bad, but overall, Josh looked strong on his way to a 3:35 marathon. Seriously. Guy is fast. Josh ended up finishing Ironman in 10:42ish. Not bad for a first Ironman, huh?

The Ironman-to-be that I was chasing all day, on the right.

Once again, it was a long day. It was a hard day of spectating. But it was so worth it. Watching the athletes, many of them just like you and me, put out the effort to travel that 140.6 miles. Some of them hurting, but all of them moving forward. And once again, when I'm at Mile 11 of my next half marathon and I'm hurting and just want to quit, I'll think back to those Ironmen. Chances are, they were hurting a lot more. And they kept going.

So congrats to all the finishers at Ironman Wisconsin! I'll be back in 2013 to cheer again. And next year? I'm pretty sure I'll think ahead and take Monday off so I can experience that final hour at the finish line. See you then!

Three Things Thursday

1. Packers! So I know it's technically Week 2 of the NFL season, but since I was out spectating and cheering on the Ironman Wisconsin course on Sunday during the Packers loss to the 49ers, this is my first chance to see the Green and Gold play in the regular season. I'm a happy Packers fan.

2. Before the game, I did make sure I got a run in. Let's just say I was loving every minute of that 4 mile run. I'm pretty sure the fact that it was 60 degrees and overcast had a little bit to do with it. And I ran without my Garmin. Well, technically I had it on, but since it died a half-mile into my run, it was pretty useless. And I haven't run without the Garmin in a long time. It was nice to run by feel rather than a number on the screen. Overall a great run.

3. It's hard to come up with a No. 3 tonight. Probably because I'm distracted by the football that's on my TV screen. So there is no No. 3.

11 years ago

It doesn't seem like it's been that long.

Eleven years.

Memories should be fuzzy. But the moments are still vividly etched in my mind. Where I was. What I was doing. The emotions I felt.

I thought about writing something today. Something to commemorate this 11th anniversary, but in the end I decided not to. Because honestly I can't think of what to say that I didn't say in a 2007 post.

Go here. Read what I wrote about what that day was like for me.

They say time heals all wounds. We've had time. And yes, there has been healing. Will there ever come a day when our country is completely healed from the pain we experienced on that bright, sunny, September day? I don't know.

What I do know?

I will never forget.

Seven years ago today

Seven years ago today a pair of jets crashed into the World Trade Center, changing our lives - and America - forever.

It's hard to believe it happened seven years ago and the memories are still so fresh in my mind. And try as I might, I can't say it any better than I did last year.

Our lives have regained some sense of normalcy, but the events of that day have never escaped my mind. And even though the footage of those planes hitting the towers was played over and over in the days and weeks following the attack and on the anniversaries, it still doesn't seem real and I still shudder when I see it.

And today, the seventh anniversary of that horrific attack, I still grieve. And I remember the 2,974 victims that were killed: 2,750 connected to the World Trade Center, 40 in a Pennsylvania field and 184 at the Pentagon. Those numbers do not include the 19 hijackers.

I will never forget you.

Six years ago

It's been six years, yet it feels like it was just yesterday.

I had just started my senior year at the University of Wisconsin. Class had been in session maybe a week. September 11, 2001, started like any other Tuesday. I had a 9 a.m. class, "Creative Non-Fiction" with Professor Deborah Blum, so I got out of bed around 7 a.m. and took a shower. Once I finished up in the bathroom, I returned to my room to finish getting ready. I casually turned on the TV to see what the weather was supposed to be like.

But my channel flipping never got me to The Weather Channel. I never found out what it was supposed to be like, because I stopped dead at scenes of chaos from New York. A gaping black, burning hole in one of the World Trade Towers.

Then from the side of the screen, a second plane, came crashing into the second tower.

I closed my eyes, unable to fathom what I was seeing. I stood there, still semi-dripping, in my towel, and somehow I knew what I was watching was big. This wasn't just an accident.

But words from the news anchor caught my attention.

"United airline flights"

My eyes snapped back to the television. They were telling me that two of the jets that had crashed into the tower were United flights. As in, airplanes flown by pilots from the airline my brother worked for.

Without thinking, I grabbed my cellphone and called my mom.

"Where's Cory today?"

"At home. Why?"

Poor mom, she didn't realize our country was under attack. I filed her in on what I knew and feeling a little better knowing my brother was safe in Wisconsin, I told her I loved her and promised to call later.

I throw on some clothes and opened the door, meeting the gazes of one of my roommates, but noticing the door at the opposite end of the hall remained closed. Eventually it opened, and Lisa, my roommate who called New York City her home, emerged. I'll never forget the blank stare in her face as she closed her door and left our apartment for class.

Moments later, the first tower fell.

I had an internal battle in my mind. Do I go to class or skip it? In the end, I knew this was something I had to witness in the company of others and since I was heading to the journalism building, I was pretty sure my professor wasn't going to try to teach us, rather, she was going to let us watch history in the making. The walk down Langdon Street was eerie, the normal hustle and bustle missing. Instead, there were a few random kids, walking alone, usually with a cellphone to their ear.

Once I got to class, my professor herded us into the teaching assistant's lounge, where we watched the news coverage, not as undergrads, professors or graduate students. But as Americans. And when the second tower came crumbling down, I heard a former professor gasp behind me, "That's not good."

I abandoned the rest of my classes for the day, instead choosing to spend the day in front of the TV with my then-boyfriend. As I watched the images being replayed, I still couldn't truly believe it was happening.

A day or two later, I was among the thousands who gathered on the lawns in front of Memorial Library. As the candles flickered and we sang songs of peace and patriotism, I looked around at the faces that surrounded me. We were no longer Wisconsin kids or kids who hailed from the Chicago suburbs or kids from the East Coast. We were Americans, grieving for our country.

And today, on this sixth anniversary of that horrific attack, I still grieve, for the 2,974 victims that were killed by the Sept. 11 attacks: 2,750 connected to the World Trade Center, 40 in a Pennsylvania field and 184 at the Pentagon. Those numbers do not include the 19 hijackers.

I will never forget you.

I'll take the orange one

Tomorrow I'm going to prison....for the fourth time in my life.

No, I didn't murder anyone or rob a fast food restaurant. Instead I'm going to prison to talk to inmates who knit.

But it's the getting into prison part that worries me. Most people think it's surprisingly easy to get into the Big House. Yeah, not so. Trust me, I know from experience.

It was three years ago, I had just started my job in the 'burg. My boss sent me up to one of the prisons in Waupun. It was one of two maximum security facilities in town. We're not talking about a guy who got busted for some cocaine. No, we're talking about the bad guys, the guys who do things that make you shudder. And to think, I was going there because the Archbishop of the Milwaukee Diocese was coming to visit.

While the looks I got from some of the inmates while walking through the halls was enough to creep me out, it wasn't the worst part of my visit. That would be the actual getting in part.

My boss had warned me about security. So I took off all of my jewelry before leaving my car. All I had with me was my driver's license, notebook and pen.

It didn't matter. The metal detector went crazy when I walked through.

The security guard thought it was my shoes. Nope. He thought it was my glasses. Wrong again. I remembered I had two small barrettes in my hair. Yeah, not the items making the detector beep. The guard wands me with the wand. I still beep.

The guard gets this embarrassed look on his face. He asks me if I'm wearing an under wire bra. I swear, I must have turned a million shades of red. I nodded. The guard reaches beneath the desk, pulls out a brown paper lunch bag and sends me to the bathroom with instructions. All the while my photographer is laughing at me.

I disappear in the bathroom, follow the instructions and return to the prison lobby.

The damn machine still beeps.

This is getting embarrassing. After many more beep inducing trips through the metal detector, we finally determine it's the clasp on my dress pants that's setting the metal detector off.

I thought I'd made a mental note to always wear a sports bra when I got to prison, but obviously I forgot, because I've been through the same routine on my other two visits.

Tomorrow is visit number 4. Hopefully I'll remember in the morning. I mean, come on. If they let inmates have knitting needles, shouldn't I be able to wear a bra of choice?

Chances are, I'll forget though. So if I never post again, it's because I got stuck in prison.

Thanksgivings past

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. I've always been pretty lucky because I've been able to spend the day with my family.

The exception, that 365-day period of my life when I lived in Indiana. Forever remembered as the worst year of my life.

I had just started a job at the beginning of November. I had no vacation, no personal days and I was the low man (well, girl) on the department's pecking order. But since I was still so new, I wasn't scheduled to be the reporter/designer on duty for Turkey Day because I didn't know the system yet. So I had the day off. And I was alone. Homesick and eight hours away from my family.

Yet, I didn't have to spend the day alone.

The family of a co-worker of mine invited me to spend Thanksgiving with them. Their kindness and generosity floored me. They took me in and made me feel welcome and while I admit it wasn't the same as spending the day with my family, their kindness made my first holiday away from home a bit more bearable.

It couldn't take away the tears that I shed as I went home and cried my homesick self to sleep, but for a few hours, it took my mind off of being eight hours away from my family. And for that, I'll always be grateful to them.