Chilly Tuesday Night Speedwork

Tonight was group speedwork. We were supposed to do 6x800s but only two of us were doing the extra 800s (the rest only had to do 4) so they compromised and did 2 400s with us. So they did more, and we did less.

I am going to have to look to see how these numbers compare but here they are for the blog's sake:

1 mi w/up
800s: 3:48, 3:42, 3:36, 3:37
400s: 1:35, 1:42

Do Over! A.K.A. Blue Moon Half-Marathon Race Report

Chip Time: 1:53:08 - new PR by 3 minutes! :)

If I could have gone back out last Sunday and run that race again I promise I would have. I was so hungry for a do-over that I started searching for another race from my phone on the way home. First I looked at the weather for today: 50 degrees? A near thirty degree difference in a week? Hmmm...

Next, I remembered the time change.

And finally, I remember the Blue Moon Half Marathon, 30 minutes from home, one week away.

A mulligan.

There are two things that can happen when the stars line up that beautifully for a race - you can either completely bomb it and have no excuses for why you did, or you can thank God for perfect racing conditions, remember that those only happen once in a... ahem... blue moon, and go for it.

There were lots of friends at this race, which made it especially fun. We hung out for a bit before the start and then lined up in a tight-nit pack for the start. I wasn't the least bit nervous. That always makes me nervous. It seemed bitter cold but as someone pointed out it was because we had baked for months on end. Truly, the conditions were perfect.

The race started late (as always) and was pretty packed at the start. About a quarter mile in the half marathoners turn right and the 5k-ers turn left, thinning out the pack quite a bit. I settled into a pace that I felt was comfortable and checked in at mile 1. 8:16. Perfect. That felt good and was well below my goal pace (my 2nd tier goal was under 1:55, my first tier goal was the 1:52 Mark had told me I was capable of last week). (8:46/8:32) Since I've raced this route before, I knew to be prepared for an onslaught of "hills" in the form of a bridge we ran up, turned around and ran up again all within a quarter- to a half-mile. When we approached the bridge my mind relaxed; it was *nothing* compared to the hills of San Francisco 3 weeks ago! I tore up the bridge just for sport, passing quite a few people along the way, and wondered if I'd suffer the consequence on the flat part. Nope, my legs handled that quite nicely. I relaxed on the down, got to the turn-around, and tore back up the bridge again. On the turn-around, we faced a wind I hadn't noticed when it was at my back, and had to re-adjust to that.

I felt good through mile 5. At mile 6 my perceived rate of exertion went up, and so did my time. I started thinking that I'd need to talk to Ma'am about this; how could I feel so good the first 6 miles and not feel good now? I know it's not endurance, because I have endurance. I started running through the possibilities: Longer speedwork? More tempo? About this time they were handing out Gus so I took one, but switched it out for the Hammergel I had in my pocket, and took that instead. That didn't sit too well and required a potty stop, dammit. But this time I picked out a runner, sped to the restroom, went quick (I am good at this!) and then ran back out. I told myself I had to run my heart out the next two miles to make up the difference and then after those miles were locked in, I could dial down the pace if I needed to. I caught up to my runner "marker" and knew I hadn't lost too much, as long as she hadn't slowed down.

At mile 6.55 (half way) I looked at my watch and saw that I had a 56:00 flat. If I continued on the pace I was I could get my first tier goal of 1:52. I decided to just push as hard as I could; if I fell apart so be it, I'd be a lot closer to my goal than if I didn't. About this time the fuel started kicking in and whatever was falling apart at mile 6 was renewed. I had a lot more energy and just felt good ... and was having a ton of fun.

I missed the 10 mile mark time (5k to go so I could figure out my projected finish time). At 11 I knew that if I finished in 20 minutes I'd be at 1:55. I was cautiously optimistic that I might get a PR since I was feeling VERY strong even still. At mile 12 I checked again, and started to feel even more like this might be it...!! The course turns off the trail, down a street and turns into the park, going by the finish line first before turning back in to the finish. I was starting to feel exhaustion set in at this point, but then the crowd bolstered my spirits. I started looking for Chuck - I hoped he was paying attention because I was coming in earlier than I think he'd have predicted - and there he was. I squealed (yes, squealed) and he said, "Well hurry up, go faster!!" and I DID. Where that kick came from I do not know, but I cheered for myself all the way in by a clock that read 1:53:18 (or something). Not sure what my chip time was but I was so flipping ecstatic I did not CARE.

I had so much fun during this race! It was absolutely perfect from start to glorious finish. I felt like I ran smart, ran comfortably, but most of all enjoyed just about every bit of it. I am feeling like I am really starting to make strides and really inspired to make this one of my best racing seasons yet!

Halloween Halfathon - Race Report

Time: 2:00:43 (chip)

I have determined that the Ft. DeSoto course has bad juju for me. Last year, exactly one year ago, was what I refer in my head to as the FML half marathon, where the heat, humidity and a polyester Cinderella dress left me in near tears as I trudged my way to the finish. The one highlight was meeting Morgan, Redhead Running, who has since hightailed it out of Florida to Michigan to live with her main squeeze. So to Morgan: Happy Anniversary!

March found me again in Ft DeSota with a diagnosed-by-a-bonafide-doctor case of bronchitis, where I made a call at mile 3.1 to finish the half-marathon and ended up feeling better, and ended up getting 2nd place AG for my finishes over the course of the half marathon series. It was a "and we all lived happily ever after" ending but for Heaven's sake, who wants to run a half marathon with bronchitis!?!

Today was supposed to eradicate that silly notion of location juju. I've had surprisingly good showings when least expected recently - the surprise sub-25 5k earlier this month and then an all-too-easy 1-mile PT test clocking in at 7:23 after fighting for sub-7:30s for I don't even know how long. This was a half-marathon! Woo hoo! Add in my patent "sling shot effect" with a marathon 2 weeks ago and I was guaranteed an effortless PR! Bring it!

We met up with Jenny with only 20 minutes to go before the gun, and each realized a case of nerves. WTH? Just 13, I said to my marathon training partner. That's a dial-down week in marathon training land...

Off we went into the dark of the island, and I was demoralized quickly as I was passed by runner after runner. Knowing my strength was in endurance, I let them. I'd pass them later.

The first 3 miles clicked in at 8:28, 8:41, 8:44. I was pleased, except during that third mile I started to feel decidedly sick. I popped into a porta-potty right at the start/finish line. When I ran past Chuck he said, "You've got about 30 seconds to make up there!"

At mile 4 I seriously considered my first DNF. At mile 6 I thought of stopping and calling Chuck and asking him to come get me. At the turn-around, the beautiful Skyway Bridge in sight, I made my 3rd stop of the race. I knew I'd be lucky to finish, let alone break 2 hours. I was so upset.

At mile 9, I realized the problem: My iFitness running/race number belt was encumbered more than usual with my new Droid phone, weighing significantly more than the BlackBerry it had replaced. I pulled the belt up over my rib cage, and felt instant relief. I thought I'd be renewed and could bolt it home with a mere 4 miles to go, but at this point I was exhausted and spent. I had not taken any fuel thanks to the state of my stomach, and I had no energy left. I limped in the last 4 miles.

I am frustrated that I can't have a good race on this course. It takes us about an hour to get there from home, and I think it's worth traveling for. Chris Lauber, race director, has been often called out on this blog for the quality races he puts on at a reasonable cost with attention to detail. The course itself is flat and fast, and it is fun to see the faster runners loop back on the course. The day was less humid and cooler, leading me to run 8 minutes faster this year than last (a fact thoughtfully broadcasted by the announcer shortly after I finished - a nice, personal touch to this home-grown race). The Halloween race specifically is a reunion of sorts, as the Tampa Bay runner community reconvenes for our season, after a long hot summer. I love the race, love the course, but just cannot race it to my potential.

Nonetheless, I am glad I did it and look forward to loading up my fall/winter race calendar with more half marathons. The distance itself was comfortable. I know I lost a great deal of time stopping along the race course - and added to the distance (my Garmin reads the race as 13.21 since I had to leave the certified course more than once). I appreciate the fact that there is another race on this same course in 5 months ... a proving ground of progress. I just hope whatever haunts me at that ancient fort is done with me by then...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Happy New Year!

Just kidding, it's not, but sometimes it feels like that with races starting to crank up all over. While the rest of the nation's runners are winding down their running seasons and finding the nearest treadmill, we Floridians feel like we live on the opposite side of the Earth and get our training cranked up!

So with that in mind I've been hashing out a few running-related goals I have set for myself between now and the last Spring race, whichever that might be:

• A most important "personal" goal: To be a better as a participant in the blog community. I have received so much support and feedback from readers of this blog and I really want to offer the same. I am trying to stay caught up on reading but I have fallen behind, and I intend to prioritize staying in touch better with the blogosphere, as it is called (apparently my browser agrees that is a word, since there is no red squiggly line underneath it alerting me to a misspelling!)
• Concentrate on my half-marathon time. I cannot call out a time goal yet as I do not yet know what to expect from myself at this point. After years of chasing the elusive sub-25 5k I managed to make it twice in the past 3 months. After trying to get my 1-mile PT under 7:30, I got a 7:23 this morning without even "trying". This means one of two things: I am starting to get a handle on getting my head out of the way and running relaxed OR I am getting faster. Or maybe it IS both things. Either way, I am running this weekend's half marathon as a "time trial" to see what I am capable of as it stands, and will use that information to build my training and expectations for the rest of the running season.
• Break 24 minutes at the Armadillo 5k in March. I set this goal after my last 5k with a running friend who finally broke 25 (and beat me). We are going to fine tune our training near that race to accomplish that and work together to achieve it.
• Focus on nutrition. Up the the ante of vegetable consumption and dial back the meat. I've also been toying with eliminating sugar substitutes. I've tried some regular sodas and today had a sugar-sweetened tea and they are sugary enough to make me want to gag. I think I'd be better off consuming a tiny bit of sugar to a lot of Splenda, especially in my drinks.
• More water. See above.

I am also considering another marathon in the very near future just to capitalize on the training I've already done, plus the better weather, plus the fact that I enjoyed the distance of my race in San Fran (the hills, rain and chill notsomuch). I am so solidly riding the fence on that I have splinters in my butt. That could go either way ... based mainly on finding a decent race during an available weekend in a place close to home. That is a lot of variables to consider for a race of that magnitude, so we'll see.

This morning was the 1-mile PT test and tonight was speedwork. This weekend's half marathoners did 8 instead of the 12 our plan called for. Each of the eight with the exception of two were almost exactly the same (1:49.5). Two were 1:47 and 1:48. I ran each with a different level of perceived effort but in the same amount of time. Reason #137528 why a runner should do repeats - to learn how to run just as fast in a more relaxed state. Too bad running repeats is a whole lot of not fun, it sure is good for you. Just like vegetables.

Nike Women's Marathon - San Francisco - Race Report

I have spent the last few days wondering how I would compose this post... because in the stark black and white of words, what I would say about the race itself is largely negative, yet it was not a negative experience.

In a nutshell, we all agreed: Are we glad we did it? Yes. Would we do it again? Absolutely not.

When we found out we'd won the lottery to get into this race we were ecstatic, and I think that is part of the lure and appeal of this race. Let's face it, anything exclusive is just that much more appealing, and knowing you've "won" your way in adds to the experience. I had said I didn't want to do another fall marathon last year but we cast our lot in for this race, and had to align other "standby" races just in case. And then we got in. And we trained ... during the hottest summer in Tampa Bay's history. As we trained in this sticky heat (and got strangely acclimated) our mantra was: It will feel SO good to run in San Francisco in October!! We were training in the worst to be ready for the best.

About three weeks ago my usual plantar fasciitis was eclipsed by another pain in the same foot, this time on top. I feared a stress fracture, but wasn't willing to address it until after this marathon. A lot of expense in terms of time, money, sweat and tears had gone into getting to this transcontinental race, and if the result of running it injured was I had to sit out the rest of the winter racing season due to further injury well, then, so be it. It was a chance I was willing to take. Even still, I took several days off about two weeks out. I returned to running pain free, but then mysteriously last Wednesday the site swelled up to twice its size. I didn't know what to expect.

Early Friday morning my running partners and I met in the dark as we have so many mornings, and headed west. I was so preoccupied with the effort to get 6 people ready to go in two different directions (Chuck with me, and the kids with their grandparents) that I hadn't had a chance to really think about why I was going.

We arrived in the city and pretty immediately saw the "expotique". It was a custom made tent covering a park in Union Square. Chuck and I settled into our hotel and then met Carin and Jenny at the "expotique". It was such a disappointment. We knew to be underwhelmed but this was far less than even that. Getting our bibs and information was confusing, and the volunteers were unhelpful (not their fault, just lack of information passed down to them). There were no vendors except sponsors and a small counter offering "runner essentials" - a small selection of gels, shot blocks, etc. Thank goodness I had remembered and packed all I'd need; unlike other races where forgotten items could easily be replaced, you were limited to your usual mass-merchandise-type stuff and even that selection was limited. Race souvenirs could be purchased across the street at Nike Town, and here they did not disappoint; they had everything from arm warmers to shorts to NWM running shoes.

Chuck had never been to San Fran so on Saturday while Jenny and Carin laid low as they should, he and I headed out to explore. At one point we found ourselves climbing a very steep hill to Lombard Street - duh. I don't think I ever fully wrapped my head around the fact that YES, I was running a marathon the next day. It didn't truly hit me until I laid out all of my stuff before bed that night and realized that when I woke up, it was happening. One more quick sleep until 26.2. I was NOT ready.

The good thing about a West Coast race is that though the clocks in the city all said 7 at the start, my clock said 10. Carin, Jenny and I were bright-eyed and ready when we met for the start the next morning. It was chilly, but we were insulated by the buildings. We took off our top layers and prepared for 55-degree weather. Following the runner's rule with the 30 degree difference, 55 + 30 would equal 85 comfortable degrees for running.

Carin and I lined up with the 4:15 pacer and got to know her a bit. I asked about her strategy and she said she was going to take it easier on the hills and make it up on the down side. And then we were off.

The corrals were self-seeding, and that is always a mistake. Not many are brutally honest with themselves - never mind a race corral filled with running buddies - about what they are truly capable of. As a result, we had many a walker and trotter ahead of us, many trudging along three and four abreast. Trying to get around these slower ladies was daunting, especially on the craggy old streets of San Francisco. It was frustrating to try to follow that 4:15 lollypop, and doing so required too much inconsistent running. In addition, runner etiquette was all but non-existent. Runners were falling, tripping over each other, darting around and in front of each other, suddenly slowing or stopping ... it was treacherous and frustrating and exhausting.

At mile 4 we climbed a hill to Ghiradelli Square. In that most of our "hill training" had been on the bridges of Clearwater Beach, Carin and I jokingly declared that hill the Sand Key Bridge - as steep as the bridge but shorter. *high five*, this ain't so bad!

Descending this hill, our pacer started to make up time, as promised. There was also a water stop. After a quick debate with myself, I decided to grab some water on the steep downhill, and made a quick right to double-back. In doing so, I rolled the ankle of the "good" foot... and it hurt something fierce. Momentarily I freaked - was THIS it? Did I come all the way to San Francisco to run four flipping miles of the Nike Women's Marathon? A quick assessment and I decided I could go on ... and I needed to hurry because that 4:15 stick was scurrying down the rest of the hill pretty damn fast.

I ran my heart out until I caught up to Carin, who was calling my name as I approached the pace team. One hill down and ... OMG. What is that up ahead? As if reading my mind Carin said, "I've done that hill, it's okay. We'll be okay!"

At mile 6 we approached that hill. I started running up it, but I was scared. I still had 20 miles to go and this hill was no joke, and I knew from studying the course elevation map that it was going to be a full mile of uphill. I had been thinking gradual uphill, this was not gradual. This was steep and steady with no top in sight. This was a mountain. I switched to walking, and decided I was going to be a-okay with walking any and all hills if it meant I got in one piece from start to finish. The 4:15 lollypop was beyond my scope, and the 4:20 hustled by as well...

A spectator congratulated us at the top. My constant pollyanna stance about hills, "It's only HALF the hill you need to worry about, going up! The down part is the reward!" bit me square in the butt. DOWN can suck just as bad as up, I am now here to tell you. I had visions of falling on my rear end, and wondered if I still got the Tiffany necklace if I slid a quarter mile of the race.

After a series of daunting hill-mountains, I mentioned that I thought the worst was over. Another runner said, "Oh no, there is a killer hill at mile 9." "Worse than what we've done?" "Oh, absolutely." I said, "But then we are done." She said, "Yes, then the worst is over..." as she caught a look at my bib. "Oh. Wait. You are doing the full? Nevermind."

At Mile 10 I saw Chuck, and ran straight his warm arms, which were opened wide to greet me. He let me know my running partners were okay and said he'd see me at 16. SIXTEEN. That felt like forever away at the time but actually went very quickly. Miles 11 and 12 seemed to last the longest mainly because I was ready for the half marathoners to GO AWAY. I was ready to reclaim some road space and peace and quiet.

Apparently it started to rain at mile 12. I didn't realize it until mile 17.

The part I was dreading the most - miles 18-24, ended up being very pleasant. The course was similar to Nashville, in that you could see mile markers in the 20s just as you were ending the teens, something that was very demoralizing for me in that race. This time it was actually fun to watch the other participants run strong races and try to figure out what their times might be. I always marvel at strong runners and how they make it look so easy and comfortable.

The course looped around a lake at a slight incline. At about mile 23, I decided I was bored and ready to get this over with. Never once did I recognize the fact that it was pouring rain and that the temperature had dropped significantly.

Miles 24 to finish were on a slight downward slope. We finished onto a red carpet lined with the promised tuxedo'ed firemen holding silver platters stacked with the Tiffany blue boxes tied in white ribbon. The finish was NOT a letdown and just as Nike had promised. I was reeling a little bit about how both very difficult and very easy that run had been. It hardly felt like I'd finished a marathon, mileage-wise, but I was stunned by the difficulty of the course.

I stood on the red carpet for a bit hoping to see Jenny or Carin, and then suddenly my "good" foot - the one with that I had rolled - seized up in white-hot pain. I tried to breathe through it but suddenly it overwhelmed me and before I knew it I was sobbing from the pain. That pissed me off because I don't cry from pain, and I just couldn't stop. Chuck was in a quandary, trying to help me but also worried about Jenny, who'd run an impressive 3:43 BQ time (again!) and was searching for warmth in any form, even in the form of one of Nike's overpriced NWM sweatshirts. We also couldn't find Carin. Things were deteriorating pretty quickly, and we were getting a little bit frantic. Somehow I hobbled to the med tent for some Tylenol and ice, so I could make the trek back into the city. Chuck got me seated and went back to find Jenny and Carin. They had run out of mylar "space blankets" at the finish line, but had them in the med tent, so I asked for one. One of the volunteers handed me one, and before I knew it, two RNs were kneeling beside me, asking me if I was cold, or wet. Cold for sure, but wet I could not say. One of the nurses told me I was going to need to change, quick, because I was getting close to hypothermia. I responded, "I am from Florida" and she said, "and I am from California" as though talking to a stupid person, LOL. I said, "NO! I am just trying to say, I am from FL so this is pretty cool for me." She said, "Honey, it's not THAT cold." Within 5 minutes I was in a long sleeve dry shirt, wrapped in a red cross blanket and the teeth chattering stopped. 10 minutes later I was as good as new, from head to toe. Jenny was also treated for the same - and she and I agreed that the Red Cross would be receiving a nice donation from each of us. We were treated so efficiently and so wonderfully that we are contemplating a visit to the med tent after every race for some pampering ... just kidding. Seriously, what could have been a terrible experience was replaced by the professionalism and attentiveness of an incredible medical response team.

Thank goodness the three of us reconvened in good shape because once we left the "finish village" we had to trudge back UP a hill about a quarter of a mile to stand in line to catch a bus back to the starting line. After about an hour, we were finally snuggled in on the warm bus for our half-hour ride back into the city. Our driver couldn't make it to our designated drop-off, so he just let us off on a random corner, LOL. Carin and Jenny went one way, and Chuck and I went another. I am sure I was a sight to behold. I had taken my shoes off when my foot was hurting so bad and could not put them back on, so I was in socks, wet and shivering, wrapped in a Red Cross blanket, trudging through downtown San Francisco in the rain. If I'd had a bucket, I'm sure I would have collected a lot of money for my seemingly poor and wretched self.

My composition teachers would want me to wrap up this blog entry with a summary. The summary will just reiterate the introduction ... I don't know what to say about this race! If I had to boil it down to the expo and the race itself, I would say that this race was a disappointment with respect to the promise versus the delivery. If I had had any clue what I was going to be facing in those 26.2 miles I probably would have been crying at the start as well as the finish. But what's strange about that is that overall I'd say the experience was a very positive and uplifting one and I am not at all sorry I did it. It's hard not to be positive ... one friend finished her very first marathon beautifully on a harsh, cold and windy course while another laid down another Boston Qualifier. But for me, the biggest indicator that overall this was a great weekend is that I flew out to California expecting to run my last marathon, and flew home to Florida contemplating my next one. As for that, the only sure thing I know is that it will be a FLAT marathon course!

A Whole Month Later...

I just opened up my blog to find a post I hadn't even published - a month ago.

I keep thinking I'll get back to regular blogging and maybe I will... after all, the Fall is when the race season starts heating up and I actually have something new to say and to post. For now, marathon training is just week after week of racking up miles ... enjoying some runs, dreading others, cursing the weather one run, blessing it another. After 5 years of blogging (this one and one previous blog) it's hard to come up with anything new and interesting to say. So I say nothing. (A feat for me, for sure...)

In this past month I've finished training for the Nike Women's Marathon. I'll go this weekend and run my 6th marathon. I am surprisingly at ease with this. I am actually more freaked out about the fact that I have to get into a little tin can and go all the way across the United States and be rivers and mountains and prairies from my babies than I am about the fact that I have 26.2 miles of hills and bridges ahead of me. I was thinking today how weird it is that I am a-okay with the fact that I have 26.2 miles on tap for the weekend, but when the 18 and 20-milers are looming, I am a complete mess from about Tuesday on? I was sitting at a red light thinking this through and *bam*, the answer. I knew the answer, but I never really boiled it down to the fact: I *love* to run a marathon, I *hate* to train for one. Well, duh! That's what blog post after blog post, and running discussion after running discussion has been distilled to. For some reason I never could bring myself to admit I love to run the MARATHON - I couldn't "unlink" the training from the event. That's why when I say this will be my last one, my buddies laugh and say, "Yeah. Okay. We'll see!" ...on the other side of this marathon, I will be figuring out the next one. I know it, they know it, but try telling me that mid-cycle. Mid-cycle I curse any stupidity that led me to plunk down $100+ to torture myself for 4 and a half hours, plus those hours leading up to that day where I semi-voluntarily get up in the middle of the night to go run through the sticky humidity to nowhere with a headlamp lighting my way and alligators cheering me along. Who in their right mind would EVER sign up for such nonsense???

Another benefit to marathoning, for me, is that it does bring me back to the Zen state of running. I admit I'll never make it to Boston, unless as the joke goes, my time and my age converge somewhere in my 50s or 60s. I admit that I don't want to really work that hard for 3 hours and 45 minutes. I can pretend like I do, and I admire the hell out of those who do, but I, Kathryn, do not, will not and cannot prepare myself mentally, physically or emotionally for that kind of effort at this point in my life. Now that I have made that admission, to myself and out loud, I can relax and enjoy the ride... though I do very much covet that jacket.... :)

In the meantime, I will work hard on what I AM willing to work hard on - my beloved half-marathon distance and times, knocking some time off my 5k, but most of all running because I want to, not because I am pulled by some sort of expectation of myself I know I can never meet - more importantly, am not willing to put in the effort to meet. In this more Zen-like state, I ran a 5k last weekend. I kissed C at the start and told him not to worry for me if the time read 28:xx or 29:xx or whatever, because I wasn't there to race too hard (he looked at me dubiously - he knows me better than that!). To our surprise, I came in smiling under 25. After working SO hard to break that number... there it was. It wasn't effortless, but it wasn't a whiney vomit-at-the-finish effort either, like it was in July. It just was.

The marathon is a running retreat, akin to a spiritual retreat. It is proof that it is worth it. It reinforces that even at its most raw and most vulnerable, it is truly what you love. You could live without it, but you don't want to, even at that point where you don't want to run another step. And although I do solemnly vow I will never run another Fall marathon ever again (I will not, not as long as I reside in FL which I assume will be for the rest of my days!), I have to admit that having a marathon at the beginning of the race season means that everything else is just a downhill slide. The endurance is there, you just have to tweak the speed and effort a bit.

Not much running to do this week, just taper, pack and fret about the flight. Next post will be a recap of THE RACE!!! :)

Friday Hills

It was just Carin and me for hills today and we enjoyed the beautiful, humidity-free morning! Carin and I have spent a lot of time together during this training, and enjoy not only camaraderie, but even just the silent miles plugging along and knowing you have a buddy beside you. It's one of the best parts of running and having running friends - just being together, but not always having to talk, but knowing if you have something to say, they'll care and they'll listen. There is also a code in running partnerships that is a special - the catch phrase of Vegas takes on real meaning in running: What is said on the run, stays on the run. I've said before and I'll say again: It's like a sibling relationship, without the rivalry. You accept each other for who you are, you appreciate that they are there through thick and thin, you appreciate the fact that they are there for the good and the bad. We may not talk at all during the week or between runs, but you'd never know it.