Kentucky Bourbon Chase 2012 Race Report

The Kentucky Bourbon Chase is described on its website as "... a  200-mile journey across the Bluegrass State -- through our historic bourbon distilleries, across our majestic horse country, and into our enchanting small towns."

It impresses from the opening party to the finish line celebration, from the scenic course to the hospitable distilleries, and from the super volunteers to the friendly townspeople.  The swag is nice, too.  It is all top notch.   To sum up my race, it was a series of unpredictable experiences that equaled a predictably overall great time.  This was my third Bourbon Chase, and it still held pleasant surprises.

Our 12-person "Well Aged" team finished the course in 29 hours 19 minutes and 24 seconds.  We placed 121 out of 287 teams and ranked 64th in the open mixed division, which consisted of men and women in a wide age range.  I was the ninth runner.  For my team, the race isn't about how we place, it's about enjoying the journey, our runs, and each other.

After the race I met my brother (a non-runner) at the finish line celebration.  When my husband explained to him what we had done during the race, my brother said that sounded like a really bad time.     Running 200 miles as a team with three relay legs each, totaling on average around 16.5 miles in just over 24 hours, with little or no sleep, and deficient personal hygiene doesn't appeal to him.

Why run the Chase?  For me it's an adventure and escape from my everyday, ordinary routine, worries, responsibilities and cares.  It's like being a kid again.  You can stay up all night, hang with friends, eat heartily, compete, and no one tells you to take a bath.

My Third Leg: Leg 33 
The biggest surprise this time was that my favorite leg was my third.  My plan was to run at my estimated pace of 8:30 per mile on that last 4.9 mile leg and take in the scenery on an enjoyable run.  This would be my first run during three Chases through the picturesque horse country approaching Midway, KY.  I worked at Midway College when I was younger but had never travelled the winding roads by those particular horse farms.  After running my previous two legs faster than my expected pace, with no sleep, I ran a little slower than my target on those small yet grueling hills.

When I began leg three, I was concerned about the blister on my foot. Then I forgot about the blister and felt discomfort in my knee.  I quickly forgot about my knee as I noticed that all of both legs ached.  That's what made it the best run. I saw the rolling hills of Bluegrass around me, and because I was miserable, yet able to move forward in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, I felt joy.

It was at this time that I saw what must have been eight horses standing at a black fence bordering the narrow road.  Two of the horses watched our race intently.  The irony was not lost on me.  I made my way closer to downtown, and when I approached the last turn, I saw a yard sign in support of State Representative Carl Rollins next to an Obama sign.  Rollins was my boss many years ago.  I smiled and headed through town toward my last hand off.

My Second Leg: Leg 21
This is the leg I looked most forward to running.  It was a 6 mile route from Harrodsburg to McAfee. My favorite legs in the past were in the middle of the night in cool temperatures when I took in the sounds and smells of rural fields as I moved swiftly under the moonlight.   This is the leg where I feel the race is on.  The faster teams pass my team (me) in the night, and I pass other slower runners.   We are all running alone unless in the process of passing or being passed.  In the darkness, especially on straight stretches of highway, I see a mesmerizing line of surreal blinking red lights and feel a peaceful solidarity with the other Chasers.

My First Leg: Leg 9 
I felt and ran well on this long leg of 8.4 miles. My legs were fresh and my adrenaline surged.  I planned to run the first part faster than my average pace because I would encounter more of an incline toward the end of the leg and would be slower then.  I left the town of Lebanon before dusk wearing a reflective vest, headlamp and blinking red light.  I took off like a shot and told myself to slow down.  My headlamp fell down around my neck, and I swung it to my back until I really needed it.

Darkness descended on this run, and I ran through a light rain.  While my teammates waited for me, they experienced a downpour at the exchange point.  My husband greeted me with a worried look and a towel.  During this leg, I was concerned about time and was well ahead of pace at the end.  The surprise this leg held was that the hills were not as challenging as I had anticipated.  I really wished I understood the elevation charts.

My hunch is that all overnight relays are special, but I cannot say enough about how fantastic this one is.  The highlight of the race is visiting several distilleries along the way where runners are made to feel welcome.  We could see the bourbon being made and stored and even got some samples.  The size of the race seems just right at around 300 teams.  It's large enough to generate excitement and rivalry among participants and small enough to feel intimate. I saw the race director several times including twice in the night when he was busy walking and talking on a cell phone or walkie talkie.  Kudos to you Mike Kuntz!

I first learned of this race at the Richmond Marathon Expo in 2009.  My husband was intrigued and interested while I declared I would never run an overnight relay.  Now I hope our team will be able to register for 2013.  Because the race is small and the demand is high, the race director is considering implementing a registration lottery.  If we are lucky next year, you will find us out on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail.

Boston Marathon Acceptance

I gasped loudly as I read the first line from the Boston Athletic Association, "This is to notify you that your entry into the 117th Boston Marathon on Monday, April 15, 2013 has been accepted, provided that the information you submitted is accurate."

Oh, joyful, sweet, sweet words!  I cried pent-up tears of relief and tears of joy.  I was thrilled because although I was optimistic, I knew there was a chance that my entry would not be accepted.

A year ago I read my e-mail from the BAA, and it had confirmed what I was thinking:  Even though I had qualified for the 2012 Marathon, my time was not fast enough to be accepted.  Around 3,500 of us were notified that there was not enough space to let all qualifiers, the slowest qualifiers, participate.  Now the qualifying times are five minutes faster.  I met and exceeded my new qualifying time.

For Mother's Day my husband gave me a thoughtful gift, the book Dare, Dream, Do by Whitney Johnson, a successful businesswoman and blogger.  Johnson writes about women bloggers who are shaping their lives as they go along and are daring to have new dreams.

My dream of running in the Boston Marathon is relatively new.  In late 2010, I could feel the possibility, and I set the goal.  I have had many dreams and set many goals; sometimes I have been successful and sometimes not.  What I find fascinating is how my life has unfolded in a way I could never have imagined.  It is not the life I envisioned, the one with a rewarding career outside my home.  I was in the process of building that career, and I gave it up when my first child was born.

One of the chapters of the book that resonates with me is about how sometimes plans don't work out, but something even better can come from that experience.  I don't know how things will unfold from here, but I've seen the power of allowing myself to dream a new dream.

What a Week

I thought this week would feel unending.  After a six month wait, I registered for the Boston Marathon on Monday morning.  Then I began another wait to learn if my qualifying time will be accepted.  Registration for my group closed on Friday at 5PM.  After registering, I didn't think about it again until now.

My family and I are dealing with some medical issues with both girls and learned that things should get better for my six-year-old in about three months, but things might get worse for my ten-year-old before they get better.  It's been an emotional week.  It has helped me reframe what is important and what is not.

This morning on a 10 miler with two friends, I unloaded some of my burden, and then they filled me with optimism while sharing what is going on in their worlds. One friend is looking forward to starting a new job in Los Angeles and another will begin travelling across the country, stopping at national parks, on her way to a marathon in Washington State.  I am fortunate to run in the company of such fascinating and motivating women.

Double Session

When I looked at my plan at the beginning of the week, I noted another double session for the weekend.  I do not recall scheduling this, but I did.  This time, my Friday night was free, so I decided to give it a try.  This was my plan to simulate the Bourbon Chase:   

Friday AM -- 7 miles at a brisk to fast pace

Friday PM -- 7 miles at a brisk to fast pace

Saturday - 9 miles

I'm not a coach, and doubt my coach would have recommended this.  I am lucky that I am not injured and seem to be having a good rest day.  I sometimes tell others that I think it's better to under train than to over train, but I did not heed my own advice.  

Here's how it went:  

Friday AM

On the ATT I gave myself a mile to warm up.  At mile 2, I ran into some friends and chatted with them for a mile until they finished.  At mile 3 I tried to hit this brisk to fast pace.  What that was supposed to be, I don't know.  I reasoned that it wouldn't be my planned race pace of 8:30 per mile.  So, I thought maybe 8:45 per mile would be good.  I was close to that for a mile or two, but closer to 9 or over 9 on other miles.  I told myself I was conserving energy for the evening run.  

Friday PM

Dinner time rolled around, and I realized I wasn't going back to the flat trail.  I would have to complete 7 miles around my neighborhood loop of approximately a mile. This loop is about a half mile uphill with a flat spot at the top, and then about a half mile descent.

I set out at 8PM in the dark.  I felt like I was running a brisk pace, but when I run uphill, no matter how briskly I think I'm running, I am not when I see my time creep toward a 10 minute or slower pace.   For the first loops I choked on smoke in spots;  some neighbors were either grilling with charcoal or enjoying their fire pits or both.

At mile 5, I began apologizing to my teammates for my inability to meet my anticipated pace on those KY hills, on those legs ranked as difficult.  These thoughts have crept up sometimes in training, but I did not push them away this time.  I shouldn't have submitted that pace.  Last year before my first leg, I stated that I wanted to run this for fun, yet I didn't allow myself this simple pleasure this time.

By the end of mile seven, my legs were shot.  I slowed and wanted to stop.  I felt discomfort in three different places and thought this must be what cramping feels like.  If running up and down hills for seven miles wasn't enough, I knew that I hadn't hydrated enough during the day. 

Saturday AM

While the Friday night run was one of my worst training runs -- ever, the morning run reminded me of the sense of accomplishment and joy I get from running.  I was barely able to crawl into bed on Friday night, but I felt fine on Saturday morning.

I met a friend training for her first 5K.  We were both excited about her tackling four miles on the ATT in preparation, and we ran just slightly over a 10 minute pace, which felt great to me.  When we parted, I ran the next five alone and quickened my pace even hitting one or two miles around that brisk 8:45 pace.  The darkness had passed, and on that run I was at peace with being slower in Kentucky.   

Running Tourist in Blowing Rock

After walking uphill to the trail head and surveying the scene ahead, I decided that running on a trail called The Maze was not a good idea. I saw a narrow, uphill trail, with two trees across it. I had been anticipating this adventure and eager for a serene, picturesque trail run. The recreation center attendant had recommended this trail, which would lead me to an even better trail around Bass Lake. I had told him that I would eat that trail for breakfast.  

Pressed for time and alone as I peered into the woods, this city girl recalled an article I had read the day before in Marie Claire about a young woman surviving a fall off a 50 foot cliff and being lost in the woods for days.  I turned around and headed for the familiar Main Street that would lead me to the park and past churches and shops.  

Early morning, runner tourists can have a place all to themselves.  I saw two other runners, a few walkers, and one lonely police car on the streets.  The sweet smell near Kilwin's chocolate and ice cream shop was as strong around 7:30AM on that Sunday morning as it was the day before when the town bustled with tourists and the line inside was too long for us to wait. The temperature was perfect at around 50 degrees.  My slow run up and down the gently sloping streets was no more hilly than one of my regular runs and lasted 45 minutes, including stops for taking pictures.

Stretching was not on my mind while being a running tourist in Blowing Rock, NC, even though a day earlier I vowed to do more.  I had a little time to squeeze in a run before breakfast, yoga, a shower, and check out.  I took off without thinking to stretch.  During the run I smelled breakfasts cooking, and when I finished, without thinking of stretching, I walked into the lodge at the Chetola Resort and toward one of the best breakfast buffets I've ever had.  My breakfast of blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, strawberries, grits, and a tiny bagel with lox, capers, and cream cheese was a delicious reward for a run. I eyed the carrot cake but was glad to not have time for a return trip to the buffet.

  

Sore in Blowing Rock

Late yesterday afternoon when some friends and I arrived in Blowing Rock, NC for a rare girls' weekend, we happened upon a parking lot filled with teams and white vans for the Blue Ridge Relay Race.  I was excited about the coincidence and started snapping pictures from the moving car.

Later, strolling through the quaint town, we saw some of the teams enjoying their downtime. I overheard an animated team talking with locals about the race.  That will be me and my teammates in three short weeks.  I longed to join them, but wasn't too envious because I know they will have one type of fun this weekend while I enjoy a more relaxing kind.  

Before my trip, my husband and I fit in our long runs separately in the morning.  I had 13 miles on my schedule, but knocked it down to 12  on the ATT.  He graciously reduced his run and spent part of his workout on the stationary bike so that he could be home with the kids.

My word for the day was "sore."  My left calf was sore during the run, and I still feel it. Earlier in the week my left leg felt tight, really tight.  On Wednesday I booked a massage for that night.  I have a massage once a month, and I always ask the masseuse to focus on my legs.  After the massage, I usually get a reminder about how important it is to stretch.  This week I got more of a sports type of massage, which only worked my legs.  It was such a relief.

The masseuse and I talked the entire session, and now I'm convinced I need to stretch more.  I understand why I've seen a relay team with its own masseuse and sports massages being offered to others along the course.   The soreness I experienced on my long run after the massage was more pronounced than the initial tightness, but it is less worrisome than when my leg felt tight, like something might snap.

I brought more yoga clothes with me for this weekend than running clothes, but once I saw the relay teams, I knew for sure that I would be lacing up my running shoes.

Ryan's Marathon Lie

On this Labor Day I ran a leisurely six miles.  I thought about the uneven wear on the soles of my shoes, the new route that I made as I ran, and the quietness and stillness of the neighborhood with others either out of town or sleeping in.  I also had that familiar feeling I get before a race:  I would like to run the race and be finished with all this training.  I don't have anything unusual to write about except for the revelation that Republican vice presidential nominee Paul Ryan lied about his marathon finish time.

Instead of being angry this week, I spent time gathering information to be an enlightened participant in our democracy.  I watched hours of the Republican National Convention and read news articles and blogs about what was said or not said.  I plan to watch the Democratic National Convention this coming week and study the analysis.

Previously, I held back my commentary about Ryan so as to not be labeled that feminist, liberal, jogger, blogger chick, but now I've learned that Runner's World exposed Ryan for lying about his marathon prowess.  I will comment on this.  I read the news report, and then read the RW article and many RW readers' comments.  I was surprised.  My thinking was not unique.  Not only was it not unique, runners were overwhelming condemning the falsehood.

Now, if you think of runners as a group are liberal elitists, know that the majority of my runner friends are definitely conservative. Every so often I would come across a Ryan supporter saying that we should  give the guy a break on this one. And, something like why is RW delving into politics with what must be a hidden agenda?  When the magazine published Sarah Palin's respectable marathon time, I don't recall any backlash on that report.  I just remember it being a big motivator for me.  Must ... beat... Palin...  And, I did!

This is what RW reports in its Newswire from Aug. 31:  "In an interview with radio host Hugh Hewitt last week, Republican vice presidential nominee Paul Ryan said he's run a sub 3:00 marathon." ... "When Hewitt asked Ryan what his personal best is, Ryan replied, "Under three, high twos.  I had a two hour and fifty-something."

Ryan ran one marathon when he was 20 and is recorded as finishing in 4 hours, 1 minute, and 25 seconds.

Why would a much scrutinized politician, vying to be vice president, lie about a marathon finish time -- in a radio interview?  What does this say about his character?  What does this say about his ego?  This news is just days after the convention when he looked squarely at the camera addressing the public and blamed President Obama for shuttering a factory in his hometown while President Bush was still in office.  I know we've all grown cynical about politicians and sometimes forgive them too easily while they play politics, but this aggrandizing about his marathon time is downright dishonorable in the running community.

Non-runners might not understand what the big deal is about this lie.  Finishing your first marathon is a huge accomplishment.  Until that day, you have never run 26.2 miles, and you don't know if or how you can finish.  Usually, one trains for months to achieve this goal.  When you do achieve it, you know what your finish time is and where that falls in comparison to other runners, and more specifically, runners of your gender in your age group.

I understand that over 20 years of not competing in marathons, he probably forgot his exact finish time, but he knew the ballpark.  Why didn't he just say he couldn't remember his time?  To give such a specific time so much faster than his actual finish time is just a lie.  Who would do that?  That's like me telling the media and anyone listening that I was a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, when in fact, I was just a cheerleader at a small college.  And, after my first marathon, I didn't call myself a marathon runner.  I thought it was a fluke that I did it, even with the training, and waited until after my second marathon a year later to acknowledge that I was a marathoner.  Ryan and I are more than just worlds apart politically.