Half Marathon – Dr. Heather Rupe

Oak Barrel Half Marathon Race Report

April 10, 2019April 26, 2020 drrupe

Nestled in the rolling hills of middle Tennessee is a tiny town famous for whisky. Every ounce of Jack Daniels is produced in Lynchburg, Tn. This ironically dry county hosts the Oak Barrel Half Marathon every April attracting 1500 runners from 30 states. Over the last few years, I’d began to hear that the Oak Barrel half was a fantastic race, but the endorsement always came with the disclaimer to beware “Whiskey Hill”.

The first challenge was getting a bib. The race is sells out quickly. I’m talking “Disney fast pass for Pandora” quickly. I set my alarm for early on the Sunday morning that the race went on sale and was able to get a bib in about 10 minutes. A friend who signed on an hour later, was not so lucky.

I checked the finish times from last year and realized that if I had a really good race it was possible for me to place in my age group. However, after talking with some people who had run it the year before I realized how crummy the weather was in 2018 (30’s with drizzle) and that was likely reason for slower times.

Abby and I trained diligently for “Whiskey Hill” in the early mornings when it was dark and cold. We added hill sprints to our speedwork and rolling hills to our tempo run.

Abby (my best running friend/ training partner), Russ (my husband) and I drove up the morning of the race. The drive from Franklin is about an hour and 15 minutes of windy back roads and small country towns. We stopped at a gas station in Shelbyville on the way. As I stood stretching in the corner, the cashier asked all the “regulars” that came in if they wanted their “usual breakfast sandwich” or “the special”. I love that sense of community. That’s REAL Tennessee, where you can be a “regular” at the gas station.

Parking was limited, so we got there about an hour and 15 minutes early which allowed us to get a decent parking spot and plenty of time to pick up our bibs. The race swag was top notch: a windbreaker race jacket for signing up and swiftwick socks for finishing. The volunteers were so plentiful, that all the lines moved super fast. There was even someone directing traffic at the porta potties. (How on earth do you get anyone to volunteer for that job?)

The race started at 8 am, right after the Tennessee fog had dissipated from the hill tops. I had studied the topography of the course and broken the race up into 4 segments on my garmin. The Race started with 4 flat-ish miles. My goal was not to go out too fast, so I set my garmin parameters to keep me around an 8:10 pace and this felt comfortable. The scenery was gorgeous, filled with green grass, wild flowers and lots of trees which provided much needed shade later in the race. The course wound in and out of the forest and farmlands which were stocked with (sometimes malodorous) livestock. The first half mile was a little crowded, but after that the crowds thinned and I was able to dial in my pace. Mentally, it really helped to be able to break up the race into manageable chunks.

At mile 4 I reached the famous “Whiskey Hill”. This mile is the toughest mile of the race with an elevation change of 380 feet. We knew this was coming so we had trained with lots of hill workouts, even adding ridiculous hills into our tempo runs. Inflatable arches at the bottom and top of the hill mark this grueling segment’s beginning and end. There is also a special award for the man and woman who runs this section the fastest. They get the title “King (or Queen) of the Hill” and a coveted pok-a-dot t-shirt to wear with pride.

I set no pace parameters on my garmin while running the hill. I told myself that my goal was to go as slow as I needed to to reach the top. The hill was challenging in the lower half, but gets steeper as you reach the top. The last few hundred feet were crazy steep; but I did manage to run the whole thing.

After climbing the hill, the next four miles were mostly flat along the top of the plateau and these were unexpectedly hard for me. Mentally I was planning for it to be “easy” after I finished the hill, but I underestimated the fatigue in my legs. Also the plateau was not as flat as I thought it would be. There were several small hills. Even though they were short segments, some were quite steep. This is where I mentally started to struggle. My legs were tired and I realized I had a long way to go. I was having to push to keep my goal 8:00 pace. I kept telling myself “You are tired, not hurt. You can push through tired; you always do” and “Run the mile you are in”. I always run without music in races, but I think I will try music next time to see if that helps with the mid-race mindgame.

Russ finished strong in his second half marathon at Oak Barrel.

I ate my GU at mile 8 and then zoomed down the hill at mile 9. Once I hit the down hill section of the race I set my garmin to keep me under 7:55 pace, with no max pace. I felt so strong and energized after flying down the hill that I almost went “all out” but thankfully I decided to hold back until the end. A painful “side stitch” hit me that last mile and left me feeling short of breath, so I’m glad I didn’t push it too early. As I rounded the final stretch, I cruised past the distillery and made a left into downtown Lynchburg. When I crossed the finish line, I had nothing left. I had given that course my all.

I inhaled some water and headed back out to cheer on my running partner Abby, who came in shortly after me. As I walked back to the finish line to find her, I stopped by the leader board and saw my name at the top of my age group. I won my age group. I couldn’t believe it. I was sure that the weather would make for a faster course and I wouldn’t have a chance, but I was overwhelmed with emotion when I saw my name. All those early morning freezing hill sprints in the dark had paid off.

So thankful for to have such an awesome runner friend who lives a block away. I have lost track of how many races we have trained for together.

As I wandered across the square looking for Abby, the band began to play the Billy Currington song, “People are Crazy”. This was my dad’s favorite song and I hadn’t heard it since he passed away 4 years ago. I always think of my dad when I race, but the scenery, paint horses and farms along the course had already left me a little misty eyed with memories. That song, just put me over the edge. It wasn’t grief per say; I was simply overwhelmed with the sweetness of my memories of my father at such a special moment for me.

Abby eventually came to rescue me and we rewarded ourselves with some of the free food in the quaint town square. There were tents with hoe cakes (cornmeal pancakes), grilled cheese sandwiches, delicious beef stew and pimento cheese sandwiches. They were all delicious and free. We then collected our free socks and went to meet up with Russ (my husband). We missed him finishing; as his time was faster than I thought it would be for his second half marathon (Go Russ!).

We hydrated and hung out for another hour until the awards ceremony. As they began to announce the winners, I was shocked to hear my name called for third overall in the female masters category. I jumped up and down and squealed like a teenage girl meeting her favorite boy band. I have placed in my age group a couple of times in smaller races, but have never placed in an overall category.

The “trophies” were made of the tops on the Jack Daniels whiskey barrels.

The Oak Barrel Half was challenging; but that it also what makes it so awesome and rewarding. The scenery and swag were great; but it was all the volunteers who came out to help that really made it a special race. I will definitely set my alarm next year to get up early to sign up and come back to defend my title as “The Third Fastest Old Lady”.

Stay tuned for my next challenge: The Wine Glass Marathon in October where I hope to qualify for Boston.

Race Swag: Windbreaker, socks and a “medal” made from whiskey barrels.

Race Reports, Running

Indy Mini Marathon Race Recap

May 29, 2018April 26, 2020 drrupe

My husband, who grew up in a racing family, watched the Indy 500 every year of his youth, some years on TV but many times from the stands at turn 1. When I read that the Indy Mini Half Marathon included a lap around the famous speedway, I knew that I had a chance to finally convince my non-runner hubs to do a half marathon. He had always joked that the only half he would do would be the “Maui Half” but I dangled the carrot of Indy and he took the bait. We had begun seriously talking about a trip to Hawaii in the next few years, and realistically I knew that after his first half, he would much rather lay in bed and rest than hike volcanoes. Indianapolis seemed a better bet.

He followed Hal Higdon’s beginner half training plan as close as he could. Around week 3 of training he hurt his back and needed a week to recover, but managed to get right back on track. His knees began to hurt with increased mileage, but he switched to HOKA running shoes, added some core work and tried knee braces and was able to push on through.

His baseline was barely running 2 miles a couple times a week on the treadmill. At the beginning of the process he shook his head incredulously at the training plan questioning how it it was possible to ever run so far. I encouraged him to trust the process as each week we added another mile to the long run. When we hit 8 miles for our long run, he found his pace. He realized after 4 miles it all feels the same. The running zone.

Race Weekend

We dropped the kids at school Friday morning then headed up 65 for an easy 5 hour drive to Indy. It had been almost a year since we had gotten away together as a couple, so a big part of the fun of the weekend was simply enjoying each other’s company. I don’t love road trips, but I also have become jaded by years of traveling with small screaming children. Five hours with a cute, witty companion was actually quite lovely.

In my travel calculations, I forgot to consider the time change and stopping for lunch, so we got to the expo a little later than I planned. I was hoping to make it in time for the Meb Keflezighi meet and greet, but that didn’t happen. The expo was was huge even though this race was only a half. There were 20,000 runners, so the swag stands were in full swing.

As we walked into the expo we were greeted by the pace car for the Indianapolis 500, and I knew we had chosen the right race. The Indy Mini is part of the city’s May festival that leads up to the 500 on the last weekend of the month. Throughout the town we saw banners celebrating the race. I get the feeling that the 500 is Indianapolis’s Christmas, and May is their December. I could feel the excitement in the air, and Russ was all grins and nervous energy as we picked up our shirts and bibs. The convention center was less than a mile from our hotel, so after we took in all the sites, we headed back to the hotel to get changed for dinner.

We ate at Osteria Pronto, an Italian place in the Marriott Hotel downtown. The atmosphere was that mix of modern and rustic that seems the current trend. The food was good, but not life changing. Russ had the lasagna, but despite never having GI issues before, found it didn’t sit that well overnight.

We stayed at The Conrad, which was a gorgeous hotel located a cozy 2 blocks from the starting line. They had coffee and bagel for the runners in the lobby race morning, but we had lucked into some free room service coupons, so we started the morning with french press coffee and danishes.

We didn’t have to be in our corral til 7:30, so we were able to sleep in til 6 (which felt like 7 am ‘our time’). As soon as we hit the lobby, you could feel the excitement of the crowds. We followed the bib wearing masses to the start. We watched the runners pile into to the corrals, as we stretched out our quads. Old, young, svelte and plump; all in it together to run 13.1 miles and a rare chance to make a lap around Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Russ’s step father Bill had passed this last fall, so as we prepared for the race, Russ donned his late step father’s Indy 500 Old Timers Club hat. Bill was a racing enthusiast, writer, announcer, promoter, and risk manager for the largest motorsports insurance company. The years that Russ had see the Indianapolis 500 in person, it had been with his mom and step dad, so this race was a special.

Our wait in the corral seemed shorter than usual (perhaps because my last race was at Disney where half the event is in the corral), but still festive and nerve wracking. Runners filled with nervous energy were jumping around and fidgeting with their Garmins. Blaring music filled the air, as the occasional beach ball bopped us on the head before we could send it flying back across the crowd.

The Race

Russ’s goal was 2:15, so our corral was in third wave. We were quickly off through the streets of Indy. The crowds were thick and we spent a lot of the first two miles weaving through the runners trying to maintain a 10 min/ mile pace. The area between downtown and the speedway was not that visually appealing, consisting mostly of run down houses, many with bars on the windows. Despite the aesthetics, the crowd support was great, and the volunteers were out in full force with water and gatorade stations at every mile. There were also abundant porta potties with minimal lines.

Heading down Main Street of Speedway, Indiana, a small town completely inside of Indianapolis.

The excitement built as we headed down the stretch toward the speedway, in the shadow of the giant walls of the grandstands. We then made a sharp left going through a tunnel that filled me with childlike excitement and then we emerged in the infield of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Who doesn’t love to run through a tunnel?

The track is 2.5 miles long, lined with a quarter million seats. The music was loud and the runners were giddy with excitement, but I know that could be no comparison to what race day must feel like. I can’t fathom racing a car around that track 200 times at speeds of over 230 mph. Russ was all grins as we ran on the famous speedway, filling me in on Indy trivia, like how the winner always drinks a glass of milk and in the 90’s a tradition started where the winner of the race would get down and ‘kiss the bricks’. The original racetrack was all bricks hence the nickname ‘the Brickyard’. When it was finally paved, they left a literal 3 feet of bricks at the finish line in homage to the famous nickname. As we approached the start/ finish line of the speedway, we were give the opportunity to stop and ‘kiss the bricks’.

Exiting the speedway, we cruised back toward downtown. Around mile nine, I saw a man lying lifeless beside the course, as a women knelled next to him removing his bib, for what I presumed was to access his emergency contact. I went into full doctor mode and rushed over to assess him. Luckily he informed me that it was only a sprained ankle, before I began the chest compressions and emergency breathing.

At mile 10 we made a pit stop and when I asked Russ how he was feeling, he said that he felt awesome. “That means it’s time to speed up” I answered with a mischievous grin. We ‘stood on the gas’ and headed for the straightaway.

The final half mile was lined with checkered flags, sticking with the racing theme. We finished strong and were rewarded with a milk jug shaped medal. We hydrated, called the kids and walked the couple blocks back to our hotel, once again thankful for the close location The Conrad.

We took it easy the rest of the day and then ate a fabulous steak dinner at the Capital Grille, replenishing all calories burned in the race. We slept in Sunday, then ate at Russ’s favorite local diner, Charlie Brown’s. It is the kind of place that’s filled with locals and the couple beside us literally ordered ‘the usual’. The portions were huge, greasy and delicious.

This breakfast reminded me of my favorite Ron Swanson quote: “Just give me all the bacon and eggs you have… Wait. Wait…”
“I’m worried what you just heard was give me a lot of bacon and eggs. What I said was give me all the bacon and eggs you have.”
“Do you understand?”

We left Indianapolis feeling a sense of accomplishment. We hauled our swollen bellies and sore knees back down I65 to Nashville. It was a fantastic weekend and great first (hopefully not last) half marathon for Russ in memory of a great man, Bill Hill.

The Indianapolis 500 is known as the “Greatest Spectacle in Sports” and while the Indy Mini may not be ‘the greatest race ever’ it still proved itself to be a fun, flat, well supported half.

Russ beat his goal by 7 minutes and finished strong.

Long sleeve tech shirt and milk jug medal

Race Reports, Running

Cincinnati Flying Pig Half Marathon Race Recap

May 26, 2017April 26, 2020 drrupe

“It’s just a half.” I replied somewhat flippantly, when a colleague asked if I was nervous about my upcoming race. What I wanted to say was “While I can run 13 miles in my sleep, I’ve trained painfully hard for this race for the last few months and I really want to finish strong and PR; but I’ve heard the course is super hilly and hard. So, yes, I’m crazy nervous!” However, they were not a runner and I knew they were just trying to make polite conversation. An honest answer would have likely been met with the same response I get when detailing my tempo run splits or taper angst with non-runners: the glazed eyes, furrowed brow and polite head nodding of confusion and non-interest.

When training for a marathon I check every box on my training schedule, because I have a healthy respect for the distance and I don’t want to die. Half marathons, not so much. While I always “train,” I don’t usually follow any type of schedule or speed work. However for the Cincinnati Flying Pig Half, I followed the intense Hanson’s Method training plan and while it was the hardest I had ever worked for a half, my training was far from perfect. I managed to get in most of my speed work, but only hit about half of my tempo runs, which left my type A personality a little anxious as race weekend approached.

With the race looming on Sunday, half our gang drove up to Cincinnati on Friday. My son had field day on Friday, that I had promised to attend, so Shannon and I hitched a ride with her dad on Saturday morning… in his plane. I hadn’t ridden in a small plane in years and to be honest I’m a touch claustrophobic, so I was quite nervous at the idea of being ~~trapped~~ enclosed. I’m so glad I pushed through my fears, because it was so much stinkin’ FUN. With all the windows in the plane you could see so much better than a commercial flight. As we flew right over downtown Nashville, the Titan’s stadium and Batman building looked like kid toys. It felt like an amusement park ride. The flight was only an hour and half and when we landed, our friends were there to pick us up and whisk us off to the Expo.

I could totally get used to traveling like this.

I love a good expo, and the Flying Pig did not disappoint. The race shirts were adorable and we also got a backpack and poster. Next we walked around downtown Cincinnati, which had a great variety of hip restaurants and shops. We decided to eat lunch at Kruger’s Tavern. They had a fabulous (heated) rooftop patio where we relaxed and enjoyed our lunch. Later we headed back to the Hyatt, which was a perfect location for the race and across the street from the expo. That afternoon I did something beyond luxurious: I took a nap. By myself. On decadent hotel sheets. With no alarm set. It was heaven.

When I finally aroused, we headed out to Nicola’s, a quaint Italian place, for an early dinner. All the pasta and sauces tasted fresh and homemade. Our table was in front of a gorgeous picture window, that sadly overlooked a trash filled alley, but otherwise we had a great experience. I had the gnocchi and while it was probably too rich of a pre-race choice, it was divine. The bread basket was an extra dollar, but I would have paid $20. It had a variety of types and flavors of breads and rolls, all fresh and warm. It was superb.

After dinner we went back to the hotel for drinks (of water for me) and an extended debate on what to wear for the race. The weather was predicted to be 38 degrees at the 6:30 am start and 42 at the finish. Perfect running weather, but a clothing challenge. I finally decided to wear short sleeves with capris, the only downside was that I forgot to pack a short sleeve shirt. Then with a sudden awful sinking sensation, I realized that I was going to have to do something obnoxious, something that would violate all my ethics, something truly mortifying: I would have to wear my race shirt *I can barely even type it* on race day. I am a firm believer that you should never wear a race shirt unless you have completed the race, however my poor packing skills left me with no other choice. Before bed, I embarrassingly pinned my race number to my race shirt.

The 5 am wake up call jolted me from a deep sleep. It felt obnoxiously early, as it was actually 4 am “our time”. Regardless, I rolled out of bed, started up the coffee pot and choked down my bagel. We left the hotel a little later than planned because “she who cannot be named” was unhappy with her pre-race bowel evacuation experience.

We rushed to the starting line and slid into our corral as they finished up the last few bars of the national anthem. The first mile was a little crowded, but by mile two the crowds had thinned and I found my pace. My goal was 8 min/ miles. It seemed to take a few miles to warm up and the pace wasn’t as comfortable as I had hoped, but I simply concentrated on “running the mile I was in” and keeping the pace steady for the first 5 (flat) miles. I knew there were some big hills coming up, but when I actually saw the incline at mile 7, perhaps a few expletives might have escaped my lips. Mile 7 was one intense giant steep hill, but the crowd support was fantastic. A speaker half way up was blaring “eye of the tiger” and a guy with a megaphone and pink camo pants was holding a giant letter “F” and encouraging the runners to “Just F the hill”. It seemed to go on forever, but at the top we did get a little bit of recovery before the next monster hill. The majority of the course from mile 7-10 was uphill. The view was beautiful, with green hills and glimpses of the river, but the hills were painful, physically and mentally. The real reward was that once we hit mile 10, it was all down hill, literally. You get to coast in the last 3 miles. I felt like I was flying. I finished strong and made up some time from my hilly miles. When I saw the finish line I knew I had hit my goal. I set a 3 minute PR on a difficult course. It felt amazing.

After finishing I headed back to the hotel and jumped straight in the shower. One advantage to racing at 6:30 is that I was back to the hotel by 9 a.m. My friends also had great races, Abby set an amazing PR and Christina and Shannon had a fabulous time enjoying the race course. Once we all showered, we ate a fantastic brunch at Maplewood Kitchen and Bar, then road tripped it back to Franklin. It was a short but wonderful trip, with tons of laughs, coffee, blisters and love.

Cincinnati Flying Pig was a great race. I ran hard and hit my goal, but those hills were no joke. One of my favorite moments was as we ran across the first major bridge I looked over and saw a marine running with an American flag, with a budding sunrise reflecting off the river. It was one of those perfect running moments that makes you remember why the hell you do it. Why you get up at 4 am, deal with blisters and skip the wine. You do it for the stolen moments of gorgeousness, to feel your body pushed to its limits and to feel like a badass, running your best race at 41 years old.

Abby celebrating her incredible PR of 1:38

Running

Spring Training

April 30, 2017 drrupe

Tulips are blooming and April showers have empowered the grass to paint the landscape a vivid green. A sweet reward after all the bleak gray training runs in the early morning darkness of Winter. Spring is here and I am ready to race.

Done with using an entire load of laundry for one run!

The activities that bring me the most joy (other than being with my family) are running, travel and spending time with my friends. So this spring two destinations half marathons are on my schedule. Me and my local running group are planning to run the Cincinnati Flying Pig Half Marathon in May and then I’ll travel to visit one of my best friends and run the Seattle half marathon in June.

Friendships +Running + Travel = Best of Times.

As we thought about our race schedule for the spring, we wanted to find a fun, close destination half. Even though I broke up with the Nashville Country Music Marathon last year, I almost caved and signed up after after I saw the medal for this year (it lights up!); but I stood my ground and decided to venture to Cincinnati, OH this year for The Flying Pig half marathon. The Flying Pig is know for great crowd support and party atmosphere but also for being a hilly course. Hopefully our Tennessee hills will have our quads in good enough shape.

Our initial idea was not to take this race too seriously and simply enjoy a girls weekend, but then after Chicago when we all made huge improvements in our time by doing the Hanson Method, we decided to try the same strategy for a half marathon. We have consistently been doing speed work and tempo runs and alternating our long runs between 10-14 miles a week, with total mileage between 30-40 miles. This is the most structured training plan I have ever used for a half marathon. It a lot of mileage for a half. I’m hoping to finish under 1:45 ( my PR is 1:48). Life, work, weather and vacations have caused me to miss far more workouts than I would’ve liked, but I have still trained much harder for this half than any others in the past.

Catching a gorgeous sunrise on an early morning run.

The Rock and Roll Seattle Half is late June, so I will have some time to recover in between races. I’m sure it will be a crazy hilly race, so likely I will try to enjoy the scenery and experience and not push for a super quick time.

Most of our long runs have been out and backs from our neighborhood, but we were determined to do a least one long run on the Brentwood Greenway. Sadly the weekend we decided to do it, there was a wee bit of flooding. We got lost due to trail closures and got chased by wolves (well we say a coyote on the other side of a field and it defiantly made us run faster). There were times it felt like we were doing a mudrun, but it was the most memorable 14 miles of our training.

Hoping that Cincinnati turns out to be a memorable race for all the right reasons. I plan to start out slow to save some energy for the hills. Hoping to run was my best half marathon, but even if I don’t, I’ve already had enough laughs in the the training to make the race a personal success.

Race Reports, Running

Route 66 Tulsa Half Marathon: A Run Down Memory Lane

November 25, 2015April 26, 2020 drrupe

In addition to being the city where I went to high school, college and med school; Tulsa is also the city where I learned to love running. Though I haven’t lived in T-town for nearly 15 years, it is home. My parents still live here and each corner of the geometrically laid out city holds a little note of nostalgia.

Nearly 20 years ago I Iived in a duplex near Riverside drive and the adjacent river parks trail system. I figured it was a waste to live so close to such a beautiful trail and not run on it. Before I knew it, I was pounding out 3-4 miles a day, and a year later I signed up for my first “long race” The Tulsa Run, a 15 k that’s put on every October.

I ran the Tulsa Run, a simple out and back course down Riverside drive, for the next 4 years. I loved the crowds, costumes, race T-shirts and adrenaline. Those were days before Garmins and I never worried about my splits. I ran to be healthy and because I liked to run (and eat cake). I didn’t worry about my time, I was simply thrilled that I had manged to run such a very long way.

Each year since I moved away, I have searched for a way to make it back for the Tulsa Run, but it never pans out. This year I realized I once again would miss my favorite race, but I would be in town for Thanksgiving–and with a little creative travel plans, I could make it for the Route 66 (Half) Marathon.

Since signing up for the race, I have been excited about the chance to run through one of my favorite cities. While I was able to stick pretty closely to my training schedule over the last few months, my race week preparations read like a list of what absolutely not to do the week before a race:

Worked 70+ hours (including delivering 10 babies in 1 week…. hello ice storm of 2/2015, nice to see you again)
Didn’t get enough sleep
“carb loading” was mainly ice cream and wine
Day before race, drove 12 hours solo with my children and ate mainly fast food

About half way through my drive from Nashville to Tulsa, I realized that despite frequent breaks to stretch and attempt to keep my children from beating each other, my glutes were cramped and achy. I wasn’t sure how this would effect the race, but I doubted I would be hitting sub 1:50. I readjusted my goal to finishing strong and decided to put my goal pace at 8:40. I would try not to obsess about my time, but instead focus on enjoying the experience of racing past my favorite landmarks.

Thankfully my awesome sister picked up my packet for me and had it waiting for me once I finally made it to my parents house.

Laying out my gear the night before. With a starting temp of 25 and and ending temp of 40, picking the right clothing combo was a challenge.

The race started at 8 am, so I was able to sleep in until 6 which was fabulous. As an added bonus my (step)dad drove me to the race so I didn’t have to fumble around for parking and wait in the cold. Instead I cozied up in the car with him until about 15 minutes before race time. Despite my absolute spoiling of sitting in the balmy car while all the other losers were freezing in the the 25 degree weather, my toes still went numb in the 15 minutes I waited in the corral.

Excited to start my 7th half marathon and my first race in Tulsa in 15 years.

Like most big races, the crowds were thick for the first few miles. I was in corral A (first of four starts) so there wasn’t too much weaving. I was hoping to enjoy the art deco architecture of the many familiar Tulsa skyscrapers, but instead I was too busy trying to avoid snapping my ankle in the many pot holes that have infested the streets of Tulsa. The state of Tulsa’s streets are embarrassingly terrible, I mean third world country bad. I love you Tulsa, but you need to work on those pot holes.

At about mile 3 I had found my pace. I felt good running about 8:40 and I could finally feel my toes. The new trouble was as soon as I could feel my toes, my core was too hot. I realized that I no longer needed my jacket and I had made the mistake of pinning my bib to my jacket instead of my under shirt. I should have worn a throw away outer layer, instead of a jacket. It was a rookie mistake.

The course wound through many of the older gorgeous neighborhoods of midtown Tulsa. A few streets had a spectacular golden and crimson leaves left on their trees. Half frozen spectators shivered as they rang their cowbells and held their signs like “Go Random Stranger” and my new favorite “Run like someone called you a jogger.”

The jaunt through Cascia Hall private school was great in that there were lots of spectators, water and music. It was not so great in that there were 200 speed bumps.

Next came Woodward park, which is slightly less awesome, but still gorgeous, without its azaleas in bloom. The race was well organized with frequent water stops, including a festive one at Woodward hosted by blue cross employees.

12269988_468880179978982_771228726_n — Favorite sign outside the Philbrook Museum of Art. (photo credit Route 66 marathon)

The jaunt down Brookside (Peoria) was rowdy. The staff from Lulu Lemon were out in full force with hilarious signs and crazy loud music. Running through Brookside was literally a “run down memory lane” with fond flashbacks of my college days of drinking heavily flavored coffee at Java Dave’s and seeing wannabe grunge bands at the IKON.

Everyone loves a good gynecology joke. Thanks Amber.

Up ahead, I saw my own cheering station where my dad and sister were holding up signs. It is so encouraging to see familiar faces along the route, between their hugs and the GU and water at mile 7, I was supercharged for the next few miles down Riverside drive.

The course then twisted back through the neighborhoods. At mile 9 there was an unofficial block party. Residents had set up a balloon bridge over the road, Journey was blasting “Don’t stop believing'” and tables were set up with Jello shots and beer. I was still running about an 8:30 pace and the thought of alcohol made me want to spew, but several of my comrades were partaking in the festivities and continued to pass me.

Over the next several miles I was glad I had kept a conservative pace because there was an obnoxious number of hills. Luckily I have “athletic quads”according to the skinny sales lady at Lulu Lemon, so hills don’t scare me, but they also don’t allow for a speedy finish either.

As the course headed back to downtown we ran partially across Southwest Boulevard and under the cool “Route 66 bridge”. A guy was dressed as Gandolf at the bridge holding out his staff to each runner announcing “You may pass!” He was great. I geekily laughed for half a mile.

12224200_834554553333033_347572005_n — Photo via Route 66 Marathon

One particularly sad moment was seeing a poor lady running without shoes. She had the rest of her gear on, just no shoes. I’m not sure if she couldn’t afford shoes or if perhaps her luggage got lost. Regardless, I slipped her a $20.

The course finally flattened out around mile 12. I was tired from the hills but still felt I could finish strong. I was particularly inspired by one of the wheel chair racers who was encouraging us runners. She was so positive and inspiring, I felt like I was inside a motivational meme. As positive thinking inspired adrenaline began to surge through my veins, I picked up my pace. My positive thoughts were then quickly interrupted by searing pain in my hands and a jarring pain in my knee as I suddenly found myself kissing the pavement in what had to be quite an ugly fall. My choice phrases to describe Tulsa streets are not repeatable, but needless to say I was quite irritated. Several runners kindly stopped to help me, but it was my pride that was injured more than anything. No blood was dripping, so I got up and finished.

Between the pot holes, speed bumps and hills I think this course could officially be considered an obstacle race. All kidding aside, I really did

enjoy the race course and the scenery. I hope to do the race again next year, maybe it will be my new Thanksgiving tradition. Not sure I would want to ever do the full marathon here, but it would be particularly cool to run through the “Center of the Universe” section of the course. (This is where my husband proposed to me).

Quick Trip is the best place to “refuel” after a race in Tulsa

Celebrating with my sister at the finish line

I regretted not having more rest time before the race, but it was unexpectedly pleasant to have some downtime after the event. Also, I’m not feeling nearly as guilty about indulging in all my Tulsa favorites like Braum’s, Hideaway and Taco Bueno.

I always imagined when I grew up that I would live in midtown Tulsa, work at St. Francis, buy all my gas at Quick Trip* and run everyday on the Rivertrails. I love my life and job in Tennessee and realize that is where I belong, but this year I’m thankful for the chance to run through the beautiful city of Tulsa.

*I’m a little obsessed with Quciktrip

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