Time is on my side

Sometime in 2013, a rash of "40 before 40" lists popped up with my friends, inspired by my great friend and Platonic Life Partner (and bad idea bear) Kari Kidrowski. I usually hate these things - sorry all friends who wrote kickass lists. I'm not sure why, but they've never quite appealed to me yet. And yet, I was driving home from Kalamazoo a few weekends ago and I found myself daydreaming about what would be on my list.

I'm coming up on 35 in April, and I've got some good things on the horizon, but I think there are plenty left to be accomplished. I reserve the right to add, delete, edit, censor or chuck this list altogether. Would you expect anything else?

1. Travel to Europe Boom! Done, Dec 26, 2014 - Jan 4, 2015

2. Roast a turkey successfully

3. Run a 10:00/mile. Just one. :)

4. Read Ulysses (I faked my way through a test on it in undergrad. It's time to read it) 

5. Can fruits and veggies for our own pantry

6. Run another marathon in another city

7. Start to learn Spanish

8. Learn to play a new instrument (piano? guitar? bass guitar?)

9. Censored

10. Brew my own beer

11. Learn to do a headstand

12. Finally take that vacation to the Bahamas 

13. Run a trail half marathon Done! 8-22-2015, North Country Trail

14. See Paul McCartney in concert (on deck, October 17, 2015)

15. Redacted

16. See Troy, Jessica and the kids more than once a year.  An annual goal, but managed it in 2015

17. Have a 30 day running streak November 27 - December 26, 2014

18. Uhh yeah... no

19. Try out for a local theater production

20. Run a sub-2:30 half marathon

21. Finally meet some of Mike's Navy friends that we haven't visited together

22.Create a living will/advance directive - encourage family members to do the same

23. Become a proficient and confident swimmer

24. Super Secret ;)

25. Vacation at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! April 2015!

So I only got to 25, even after letting this sit for a few weeks. I'll add more as I they come to me - hopefully not everything will be an athletic pursuit. I think 5 1/2 years is enough time to get most of this done. Really, I just need one AWESOME running year and I'll knock several out.

Holiday Run Streak is in progress!

Excuses, excuses

No excuses. It's an interesting phrase that gets tossed around in running - especially in conjunction with inspirational stories of overcoming adversity, disability and extraordinary circumstances. It's framed as - if the guy who lost a leg can run a marathon, what's your excuse? This person lost 100 pounds by running, sensible eating and the POWER OF GREYSKULL. Why can't you get it together?

PS: I want to be She-Ra

These stories, meant to be inspiring and empowering, can come off as stress-inducing or guilt-trippy. Especially if you're like me and find yourself clumsily falling into a shame spiral at a moment's notice.

But that's not the point - it isn't a contest of who has faced the biggest challenge and TRIUMPHED!!! but rather an individual, day to day quest to get a little better and a little stronger.

After the Bayshore Half Marathon over Memorial Day weekend, I found myself with the incredible pain, moving from site to site on my lower body. It started with knee pain from pre-Bayshore that subsided after I completely stopped running for two weeks. It then migrated to shooting pain in my hips, making sitting, laying, sleeping and of course RUNNING, out of the question. As I started physical therapy, it seems that lower back weakness and inflammation may be the real culprit. I've now spent a pretty penny on x-rays and PT co-pays and have missed out on the first half of summer running.

And the voice inside of me says: a little back pain and you can't run? Why aren't you cross-training more? Getting your diet in order?

Answer: I don't know.



So I've found myself nearly back at square one with running and weighing the most I have in about 5 years.

The good news is, my body hasn't forgotten everything. I'm able to run 3 miles pretty easily and I'm ready to start upping my distance to 4 or 5 miles for "long" runs and continue maintain one or two days of short running during the week.

As for my pace, well... that was never much to brag about to begin with. So in an effort to honor my body for its abilities instead of putting myself down for my limitations, I've boldly embraced the title of Pace Group Leader for 12:30 minute/mile (and up) in our Moms Run This Town group runs. Why fuss over how slow I am when I can help a new or slow runner feel welcome? I know how lonely the back of the pack can be, so the tortoises need to stick together!

Moms Run This Town Group Run 7/28/14

So now it's time to keep on keeping on, get back on the horse, cause it ain't over til the fat lady sings and this is where the rubber meets the road. 

(Are these cliches doing it for you? I could do this all day. Beggars can't be choosers, you know.)

Running against the wind

Double digits is always a mental barrier. When you're a kid, turning 10 is, like, the hugest thing ever. When you're a newbie runner, crossing from running 7 or 8 miles to 10 MILES is huge. And while I've run 10+ miles many times, the first time back after a long layoff always screws with your mind.

But there I found myself on Saturday morning. 10 miles on the schedule and no real way to weasel out of it. I started my "10 week half-marathon training plan" a week late, so it is already beyond crunch time. I woke up in plenty of time, but my belly felt sour and I was dragging. Suppose it's time to remember to eat like a runner on Friday nights - instead of fried perch, tater tots and beer. I texted the group to go on without me - I'd go later on my own. After another 90 minutes of sleep, I got ready and headed to the lake.

10 miles. First double digits since the Marine Corps Marathon.

By the time I was ready and actually setting off, it was 11:00 am. The morning sun was fading. It was warm and breezy - around 60 degrees. It was rough going. I stopped several times in the first few miles. My feet hurt, my calves were cramping, I just needed a break. 

I was playing "the game" for the first several miles. 

"I have to run farther than last week (7 miles), so I need to do at least 3.5 for the out and back. Well, just a 5 or 6 mile run would be enough to make the day worth it, right? Ok, Grand Trunk is about 2 miles. Once I get there, I can stop again and go to the bathroom if I need to. Ok, you could always turn around at mile 4 and have 8 done." 

After 2 miles, I was on the bike path and away from the road. The sky started threatening rain and the wind whipped up. So the inner monologue changed. "Just get to the Y (about mile 4.5). Then if it's storming, you can have Mike pick you up. Or you could turn around there for 9. What are you? An IDIOT??? Run 4.5 miles and not 5??"

Between the 3 and 4 mile marks, I came across the first creeper of the season. Apparently the middle-aged creeps like it when the weather is warm enough for runners to only wear t-shirts and shorts. I knew I looked good as a sweaty, cranky mess, but it's always nice to hear it from someone who then asks where you're running to and how much farther you have to go. Umm... I'm going anywhere you aren't, buddy.

I made it past the YMCA and continued on to Heritage Landing and the Mart Dock for the 5 mile mark. Although the 2 podcasts I'd been listening to were interesting (Ask Me Another and Very Bad Wizards - about ethics and psychology, NOT Harry Potter), they weren't keeping my mood up and feet moving. Time to get out of my head and turn the tunes on. The Pitch Perfect soundtrack hit the spot as I turned around to head back. The hard part was over. Mentally, I only had to run 5 miles. Then it was just getting back.

The way back felt easier too, even though my body was struggling. A hot spot started to form on my right arch and my shoulders and neck were tensing up. The sky continued to look ominous as a few drops teased here and there, the wind picking up. But my pace was better, my mood was better, and I was only taking one minute walking break per mile. 

As I counted down, 3 miles to go, 2.5 miles to go, the rain started coming in fatter drops. The trail ended and put me back on the sidewalk in Lakeside with 2 miles to go. I plodded along, 1.5 miles to go. The blasted wind of Muskegon Lake that always blows in your face, no matter what direction you run. At 1 mile, I picked up the pace and the rain did too. I ran up the final hill in Bluffton, straining to see the big lake at the end. Pushing to the top, OAR blasting "it was a crazy game of poker," I lifted my face into the rain, and reached 10 miles.

Boom. Barrier broken.

Beautiful day for a run!

Here Comes the Sun

Did you think I forgot about you all? I'll admit, it's been a dark, dismal, lazy winter.

It's been a long, cold lonely winter.

I thought it was rough running last winter - I was a fool - FOOL! In 2013, the phrase "Polar Vortex" was not in my vocabulary, and I had never experienced a cold day (vs. snow day) off of work, and did not remember was -25 wind chill felt like. After four solid months of dreary cold, I'm a sadder but wiser girl. And slower and fatter.

But enough of that. Daylight savings time has arrived, removing one of the obstacles to outdoor running - dark. And it may crack 45 degrees here today. So begins the season of snowmelt. Snowmelt is really just code for flooding, but it does mean that every day we see a little more pavement and a little less dingy, dirty snow.

Little darling
I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been clear

What makes this year different from last is that my first scheduled race is Memorial Day weekend instead of April 6th, so I'm not in training trouble yet. I have another year of running under my belt, so there's a little less fear of the "getting back into it" this time around. However, I have some additional extracurricular responsibilities that will force me to be more structured in my scheduling if I want to get my workouts done. The time I spend as the Michigan Jaycees District 2 Director may take away from some of those lazy Saturday "I'll run when I feel like it" mornings. I also spend more time in my car and eating at restaurants, which can be a recipe for weight gain. But no worries...

Running Jamie is back. And I know that it the days of frozen temperatures are not yet behind us. In fact, they will be back within 48 hours. I know that it will probably snow on my birthday.

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's all right

But today? Today I splash in the icy puddles of the 90+ days of snow on the ground FINALLY melting. Today I tread *more* carefully, because there's nothing more slick that water on top of ice. Today I run in the 6pm sunshine, because I earned it - paid for it with the lost hour of daylight savings time.

Spring is coming.

Photographs and Memories

Tis the season... for year end reviews, retrospectives, and resolutions.

While 2013 was my most exciting year in recent memory, with a some AWESOME accomplishments and life changes, I find myself at the end of it feeling a little, well, blah. And definitely ready to move on to 2014. Many of my friends are ready to shove 2013 out the door, as they have faced significant challenges - with the hope that things can only look up. But I think that is what we hope for every year, no matter how successful the previous one was -- that things will get better.

So maybe we'll have a brief photo recap of 2013 and some thoughts on where to go next. Sound good? Still hanging with me?

The year kicked off right with the Sgt. Preston Yukon King 6 mile run on New Year's Day. Clock (in red) and I came in last. It was pretty awesome.

And I escaped the Michigan winter in January to visit Mike in Arizona - he was still living and working there.

Sunset heading towards Tuscon

But by March... he was on his way back to Michigan for good!

Just under 2000 miles from Phoenix to Kalamazoo!

I was already hatching my plans to run the Marine Corps Marathon and had set my sights on running the 5/3 River Bank 25k. As I wrote about before, the training didn't go well and my first half marathon of the season was rough. The weekend of my 33rd birthday was spent in Bloomington, IN for the Hoosier Half.

April came and went and Mother's Day (and Riverbank) was upon us! 

Kari's first 25k, my second 10k

As June rolled around I was finally ready to kick my running into high gear and I hit one of the low points of the year. On June 8, 2013, my grandmother passed away. 

Jamie, Jessica, Troy and Grandma
at Troy and Jessica's wedding reception, Aug 2010

The summer became an endless cycle of work, running and car trouble. In July, Mike and I took a much needed vacation to California to visit Troy, Jessica and Nolan (of course!!) and to do some sightseeing around the Bay Area. It was my first time visiting Yosemite and Alcatraz. We hit many of the San Francisco highlights in one whirlwind day, including Golden Gate Park, which clearly doesn't impress Nolan.

Shortly after returning from California, decided to get off the car repair merry-go-round. I bought my first ever new car (not hand-me-down from a family member), a 2013 Chevy Cruze. Kari suggested the name "Penelope Cruze," and she has treated me well the last few months. The downside is having an actual car payment and the car insurance hike that comes from having a car newer than your high school diploma.

I don't know about you, but I think the most logical thing to do after buying a new car and incurring a bunch of expenses is to change jobs and move. No?? Well I was never one for taking advice.

In late August, I accepted an offer at United Way of the Lakeshore, where I started my United Way career in 2009. I left my great colleagues at United Way in Kalamazoo after 3.5 years. It also meant leaving my running group, EcoTrekkers, friends, Jaycees and roomies, Heather and Shark.

Oh and I had to move. I hate moving. Dad and Mike hate it more.



My move to back to Muskegon put Mike's plans for home improvement on the fast track, as there were several projects he hoped to have done before Crookshanks and I arrived. Fast and furious work on painting, carpets and the kitchen, as well as some exterior updates took place over a 2-week period.

Crookshanks approves these updates

Throughout the summer, the move, the changes, I was still rolling towards the Marine Corps Marathon goal. I had my injury setback, detailed here, but was able to have some beautiful training runs.

Summer was quickly coming to a close and I was raising money like mad for the Epilepsy Therapy Project. I also spent a lot of time in little engine mode when mentally preparing for the marathon: I think I can, I think I can. One more race and it was time to head to DC.

Too good not to post - the Grand Rapids Marathon Relay Crew. And Mike's thumb.

I've detailed the marathon here, but there are more photos to share and always more story to tell.

Welcome to DC!

What?? You finished a marathon? You can still stand up? You're kidding!!

Ok, maybe that was just my internal monologue, but honestly, this was one of the best days of my life so far. I'm so glad that Mike, Mom, Dad and Kari were on the adventure with me!



It seems that the whole year was all about the marathon, but really, it was only about 6 months. Haha. Now that we've gotten through October and the REALLY BIG THING, as I had taken to calling it, I could focus on ending the year strong.

The runner ladies and I took to the apple orchards again this year for the Dirty Duel Trail Race. No action shots, but I think this will suffice:

With the holidays approaching, Mom, Dad, and I took a trip out to California in early December. We celebrated Christmas with Troy, Jessica and Nolan by completely spoiling the little bugger, eating all the cookies that Jessica made with no help, and having Thai food for Christmas dinner. Mike had already made plans to attend the Big 10 Championship game in Indianapolis to watch MSU beat Ohio State, so he didn't make the trip with us.

Nolan is ready to go

Aunt Jamie and Nolan spend some quality time

Almost the family Christmas card

With the holiday season properly kicked off, I returned home in the "spirit" and convinced Mike we had to get a Christmas tree. We HAAAADDD to get a Christmas tree.

Umm... isn't that the most awesome Christmas tree you've seen yet today? Yes, it does need an angel or a star. We're working on it.

I don't have many pictures from Christmas itself or the various festivities, so you'll have to trust me that this is a good representation. This is most of the Helsen women at our annual cookie exchange (and also the day of our holiday gathering). It was the first Christmas without Grandma, but we had 50 people at the house celebrating, so a wonderful celebration!

That's about it for the photo retrospective, kiddos. They're mostly rehashes, but a good reminder of where I've been this year and how lucky I am. 

In 2013 I was blessed with health, opportunity, endurance, encouragement, friendship and love. I don't know if I can ask for more out of 2014. Perhaps it's best not to get greedy and instead try to build on the abundance of gifts I have in front of me in these closing days of 2013.

My final words on 2013 come from the later verses of the traditional New Year's Eve song, Auld Lang Syne:

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we've wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give us a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

Happy New Year!

So you say you ran a marathon?

Seven months ago, I stepped out into the blogosphere and put a stake in the ground. I was going to run the Marine Corps Marathon, raise $1500 for the Epilepsy Therapy Project and write a blog about my journey. Well kids, it's November and we need to check in on those goals.

I've started and stopped this first sentence countless times now, because the enormity of 9 days ago just makes it difficult to know where to start. But as Maria Von Trapp taught us, let's start at the very beginning - it's a very good place to start.

If I were to recap the ENTIRE awesome trip to our Nation's great Capitol, we'd be here all night, so I'll dedicate this post to the marathon and touch on other parts of the trip in another post. With our starting point established, Sunday, October 27, 2013, 7:55am. A date with destiny.

Prepped at ready at packet pick-up

The entire crew (Kari, me, Mike, Mom and Dad) was staying in Maryland and getting to the start of the race required a 20 minute drive to the Metro Commuter Station and 35-40 minute Metro ride to the Pentagon. Knowing there were many logistical hurdles to navigate, we wanted to get on one of the first trains into the city, so we left the hotel around 4:40am. Seriously. The ride to the Green Belt Metro Station was not without its challenges. Primarily from me.

Five minutes into the ride: "I know what I forgot. My contact lens." So yes, I ran the race and went the next 12 hours with uncorrected vision.

Five  minutes later: "Oh... I didn't bring my ankle brace." As in I totally haven't run more than one mile since August without an ankle brace and now I'm going to run for 6 hours WTF!!! Mom was very concerned, but frankly, the brace had been bothering me and I didn't feel like I had a hell of a lot of choices, so I did NOT freak out, and decided to run unsupported and hit the med tent if needed.

Minor issues, but a little nerve rattling.

Runner's Village - heading towards the start line

We arrived at the Pentagon Station and walked to Runner's Village, familiarized ourselves with the surroundings (located porta-potties) and realized the race didn't start for 90 minutes. After listening to the tail end of a non-denominational prayer service and killing some time, we finally made our way towards the start line around 7:10. I wasn't letting myself feel the butterflies until the American flag came streaming down to earth attached to the parachutes of skydivers while an a Capella choir sang the national anthem. For the first time that day, I began to feel the enormity of running 26.2 miles through the some of the nation's most important spots. Also, it was finally light out, so I could see enough to be impressed for the first time.

Now I had to say goodbye to my kick-ass ground support crew and send them on their most excellent spectator journey, which covered miles of walking, 2 states by Metro and multiple trips through Marine Corps security. Mom, Dad and Mike are the people who made it happen.

It was time to get settled into my corral at the back of the pack and send Kari off towards the middle. She didn't want to leave and I wished she didn't have to, but she had a race to run and needed to do it about 90 minutes faster than me.

Chatting before the start

At 7:55 the howitzer fired and we were off! Ok, 22 minutes later I crossed the starting line. Tens of thousands of runners crossed the starting line ahead of me. Those 22 minutes were the longest of the day - well, until the last 6 miles.

I'll admit that over a week later, I don't remember much of the first mile except people. Lots of people. The first 10k was the most technically difficult and the easiest mentally. I had a good pace, my lungs felt good, the scenery was great and I felt right on target. For the first of several times, I saw my parents and Mike when I was in Georgetown - easily the most entertaining part of the race. It featured high school marching bands, the Georgetown Hoyas pep band, a bluegrass group and a runner who was falling down drunk at mile 5. Honestly. Last I saw her she was being helped to a cart by a Marine and another volunteer.

At nearly every intersection for 26.2 (or 26.6 according to Garmin) miles and every aid station, there were Marines, keeping up safe, hydrated, fueled and encouraged. I had scrawled my name on my race bib and at a later water stop, a young marine was filling up my water bottle and saw it. He said, "Good job Jamie! Keep going!" I almost cried because I was so glad to have someone call me by name at that point in the game.

Back to our race. After the first 6, I was settling in well and focused on maintaining a pace so I could pass the Gauntlet (mile 17) and Beat the Bridge (mile 20). These two cut-off points must be reached by a certain time or you will be removed from the course and bused back to the finish line. If you ask my fellow travel companions, they will tell you that the weekend's refrain was "I will NOT get on the bus." My pace was on the mark to make the bridge, but those 22 minutes waiting to cross the start line were not doing me any favors.

In those middlish miles before coming back to the crowds of the National Mall, I was out in the relative no-man's land of Hains Point, along the Potomac. The view is nice and there were lots of signs, but limited spectators. This is where I found the Blue Mile, sponsored by the Team Wear Blue/Run to Remember. Please check out this runner's blog for moving photos of the mile. Every 6 feet was a photo of a service member killed in action. These men and women, most barely out of their teens, were often smiling, sometimes holding newborn babies, lives full of promise and service to country. Some were career military veterans at 40, who could have been close to retirement. I pulled down my sunglasses as I couldn't stop the tears. The last half of the Blue Mile was volunteers, one after the other, holding flags at attention - all day long. I cried harder.

Regaining some composure and checking my pace, I hustled on the the National Mall, where I saw Mike again. I tried to hug him, but he pushed me on, as the math whiz in him was concerned about me making the Gauntlet. The mood on the Mall was upbeat with thousands of spectators, more music and sights to see. My parents saw me (but I barely remember seeing them) around mile 16 as I cruised towards the Gauntlet in front of one of the Smithsonian Museums (Natural History?). I made it, with Marines cheering me on and barking at everyone, in a very encouraging manner, to go BEAT THE BRIDGE!

Passed the Gauntlet, headed to the Bridge!

So I did. And I pushed it. When a Marine yelled "You've got to get to the bridge by 1:05," I said "Well what time is it now???" Turns out I was a mile away and it was 12:40 pm. So I had plenty of time, but couldn't dawdle.

When I reached the 14th Street Bridge, I could finally relax. 20 miles down. Just a 10k to go. The toughest 10k of my life. As a friend put it - you feel like your knees have been taken out and you were up all night drinking beforehand. But still, just 6.2 little miles. I could do it. I could do it. I didn't get on the bus. I didn't get on the bus. Left foot, right foot.

Once we crossed back into Virginia for the last 6 miles, it got rough. For the first time I put in my headphones. I saw Ellen, one of the other Team Athletes vs. Epilepsy runners around mile 22. She wasn't feeling so hot, and was glad to see me, but told me to go on as she was going to struggle. It was comforting to see a friendly face so late in the race.

During those first 20 miles, I was focused on the BRIDGE, but had no doubts about my ability to complete the race. Things got very real after mile 20. I still knew I could finish and was not having any major issues. The bum ankle wasn't acting up and I was successfully ignoring the growing tightness in my calves and hamstrings. The burning in my neck and shoulders had been present since about mile 5, and while it was sapping my energy, it wasn't keeping my legs from moving. I just kept running... but the miles weren't going by! I would look down at my Garmin and .05 miles had elapsed! I had to turn my watch around so I couldn't see the time or distance because while my body was going strong, time and space were somehow disrupted.

I dodged walkers all through Crystal City and winding back towards the Pentagon. Many other back of the packers had pushed it to beat the BRIDGE and then walked much of the last 6 miles. My strategy was the continue my same run/walk intervals as the first 20 miles, which I did accomplish, although not quickly. With as much or more effort, my pace slowed by at least 1 min/mile. I cursed those who said I was "almost there" at mile 23. At mile 25, I finally believed them! I saw the starting line. There were spectators lining the course.

About mile 25. Still upright, but tired

As I came upon the last mile, I could see Arlington National Cemetery in the distance. Marines and civilians alike were cheering us on. I kept moving.

Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no I got to keep on movin'
Matthew Wilder

I turned a corner and saw it. The final hill. Signs on the ground saying "Charge the Hill!" and "Take Iwo" as we all climbed the short (LONGEST) hill to the finish. Marines were shoulder to shoulder giving high fives and dragging you up the hill if needed. I didn't think I had anything left, but I couldn't walk that hill. I just couldn't. I reached the top, ran the last 100 yards and crossed the finish line. Clock time was about 6:28. Official time: 6:06:01.

Running a marathon requires a lot of trust in your body, the people around you and letting your preparation carry you when you flip to autopilot. Thank god for the Marine Corps. When I was done with the race, they were (kindly) telling me where to go and what to do, because I had no post-race autopilot and energy to think for myself. 

1. Collect your medal. 2. Get your picture taken at the Iwo Jima Memorial. 3. Move to the left to get your box of food and finisher jacket. 4. Follow the fence to exit the finishers area.

My feet hurt. My neck hurt. My back hurt. My heart soared! I couldn't walk another step and I couldn't wish for a better day.

By the numbers:
Miles run (Official): 26.2  - I don't have training miles, I'm not a junkie for excel like Kari
Time: 6:06:01
Weeks of official training: 19
Money Raised: $1782.50

That's right folks... Thanks to many of you, I blew my original and expanded goals out of the water! I will be posting later this week on gratitude, but I can't thank you all enough for what you have done here. By supporting me in my first marathon, you have given me the gift of a lifetime. It is an experience I will never forget and everywhere I looked that day, I was reminded of how much bigger this is than just me. Thank you.

Proud girls with our medals!

Upcoming: 
1. On gratitude and service
2. The next adventures

It's the Final Countdown

Ok... this is it, don't get scared now. (Maybe I've seen Home Alone a few too many times?)

Less than 4 days until the Howitzer sounds and then some 15 minutes later, I'll cross the starting line. For those of you who have never attended a HUGE race, it takes a lot of time for 30,000 people to cross the starting line. I'm guessing for the 12:00+ min/mile pace corral, it will be nearly 15 minutes.

It's been 17 weeks of training. Even more weeks of scheming and waffling and deciding and planning. And it's here. In a few hours Kari, Mike, Mom, Dad and I will get on a plane and head to DC for the big show. Marine Corps Marathon. So maybe the whole thing was nearly scuttled by the ridiculous federal government shutdown. No one wants to hear the rantings of a runner and a nonprofit worker on that situation. The good news is that the government is back working as well as it ever did (ha ha), and we're back on to run through one of the greatest cities in the world! Asking for fundraising support ONE LAST TIME!!! Be an Athletic Supporter!

I've been very remiss in my blogging lately. I haven't turned on my computer since the last blog. A wonderful feeling, although it just means that I've been killing the battery of my iPhone faster. I was totally geeked about my 20-miler last time. It was a hot mess. We went to Grand Rapids to do with the Grand Rapids Marathon training run and it wasn't exactly what I expected.  The shirts were nice, the water/fuel stops were great and the staff was awesome! The number of people running my pace = 0. The directional signs, not so great. I got lost, I cried, I found my way back, I ran bonus tenths. After running 20.4 miles, I finally gave up and hitched a ride back with the Gazelle dude who was breaking down the pit stops. Slowest and most painful run of my season - honestly worse than the one after I sprained my ankle. Thankfully Kari and I went to Founders afterwards and I had a consolation beer, which makes everything better.

Redemption was needed. A plan was hatched. We're always hatching plans. Thus was born the Channel Challenge of 2013. The challenge? Run around Muskegon Lake from Margaret Drake Elliot Park to Muskegon State Park in North Muskegon by way of the Lakeshore trail and roads in North Muskegon. The week after the disastrous 20 miler, we started at sunrise and 3 hours and 40 minutes later, had run 16 miles and were approximately 50 yards from where we started. There just happened to be a body of water between us.

Yeah, it was pretty sweet

The Channel Challenge complete, and medals in hand, (I'm a nerd, ok? It was an event... it needed medals.) it was on to the taper. Tapering is awesome, as long as you remember to run and don't eat like you're still running 35 miles a week.

The final "long" run was Sunday. The Grand Rapids Marathon Relay. Five runners to cover the 26.2 mile course, as quickly as possible. I took the longest leg, which was billed as 6.5 miles. Garmin disagreed, claiming 6.7 miles. After sitting on a bus for HOURS waiting for my teammates (I was #4), I got the baton and ran the best 6ish miles since before the injury. The crowd was engaging, the other runners were inspiring, and the guy dressed as a scarecrow on stilts was just... I don't know. All members of our relay team and the other Muskegon relay team had great runs. It was the perfect way to kick off this last week.

Grand Rapids Marathon really does have a great post party!

So now we're beyond all the training, beyond the planning, scheming, dreaming and past the point of no return.

Because I really don't care how nerdy y'all think I am (and I know you do), here's your song lyrics of the day:

Risin' up back on the street 
Did my time, took my chances 
Went the distance now I'm back on my feet 
Just a man and his will to survive 
So many times, it happens too fast 
You trade your passion for glory 
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past 
You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the Eye of the Tiger 
It's the thrill of the fight 
Rising up to the challenge of our rival 
And the last known survivor 
Stalks his prey in the night 
And he's watching us all With the Eye of the Tiger. 
--Eye of the Tiger (Survivor)

Thank you all for your love, support, prayers and kind thoughts over these many months. I appreciate you all and can't wait to write my "thank you and next steps" blog!