Love the Loop 15K: #PRincess

To say that the 2016 running year is off to a good start would be an understatement.  I don't know where much of this speed has come from, but I'm going to keep on with it as long as I can.  My personal records (PRs) were aging at an alarming rate, but I was able to update my 5K and half marathon PR in January.  When I saw that Dallas Running Club (DRC) was offering up a 15K for the February club race, I knew that I had to seize the opportunity.  My 15K PR was from January 2010, another kindergarten age record!  I'll never forget that race, I very quietly closed in on Mr K and just almost overtook him at the end - but he beat me by a couple of seconds.  That has to be one of my most favorite race stories.  The 15K is a distance that I really enjoy and I try to race them when they show up on the local race calendar.  I have come close to my 15K PR on several occasions, missing it by about 45 seconds last April.

Once I signed up, I reached out to Stude (remember him, he is the one who has "encouraged" me to run as fast as I can in the closing miles of my last three half marathons) to see if he had any advice for racing a 15K.  He threw out some pacing suggestions and a HUGE chart full of numbers and data (swoon!) based on my race time from the 3M Half.  According to the numbers, a 15K PR was well within my reach.  I was interested in putting this to the test as I was starting to wonder if my PR from 3M Half was a bit of an outlier as it was run on a known fast course.  Turns out, Stude was planning on being there too to run the 5K and would provide "encouragement" in the final miles of the race.  I gotta tell you, I was somewhat terrified when I saw this message from him but I was up for the challenge!

The race weather gods have been smiling upon me this year and they provided more great running weather for us with temperatures around 40 degrees at the start.  The race was a sellout at just under 1,000 runners - a Dallas Running Club record!  Safe to say the new "Love the Loop" concept was a hit.  And speaking of loving the loop, I had a serious home field advantage going into this one as Mr K and I typically do our long runs on this loop around White Rock Lake.  I knew it inside and out so there were no surprises.  I planned to follow Meb's "run only one mile at a time and worry only about what needs to be done for that mile" advice until I saw Stude (The Encourager) then I would just run like hell to keep up with him.  I got off to a good start and settled into a good pace hanging out in the 8:20s for the first four miles.  There was a nice hill at mile 3, but I had just done hill repeats on it the week before so I felt very familiar with it.  Home field advantage for the win!

Post Race PR Smiles with Shantel (Pic: Stude)

I picked up the pace a bit starting with mile 5, the wind was at my back and I tried to use that to my advantage as I knew I would turn back into it soon enough.  I picked out a few runners in front of me and kept them in my sight for most of the race.  I hoped to pass them before the finish line, if everything went according to plan.  Miles 5, 6, and 7 were in the 8:10 range - so far, so good!  

As I approached the mile 7 marker, I saw Stude (The Encourager) waiting, it was about to get real, y'all.  I had just run the first 7 miles in under an hour and I knew that the PR was in the bag if I could keep on working for a couple more miles.  Stude was super helpful and set a brisk pace for us, reminding me to keep it even as we ran up the big hill by the spillway.  He even attempted to block the wind as we headed towards Winfrey Point.  Oh sweet Winfrey Point, I have had my share of battles on this sacred stretch of White Rock Lake.  Mile 8 came in at 8:02 and I was totally good with that considering the hill we just climbed.  Just over 2 miles to go and I was fairly certain that I might die!

Smiling as I spotted Stude at mile 7, it was about to get real (Pic: Stude)

I started to pass some of the people that I'd been following during the race and that provided a great boost to me.  I worked hard to stay ahead of them and not let them leap frog me at the end.  It was somewhere in here that Stude mentioned our pace, but I tried not to think too much about it. Sometimes knowing how fast I am going makes my brain go "Wait!  We don't run that fast!!!"  My watch was chiming ahead of the mile markers as I was not doing a great job with tangents and mile 9 showed 7:46.  At this point I knew that I was going to have a huge PR - finish strong, MK!  Be fearless! 

I was searching for a glimpse of the finish line and it was obscured a bit by a bend in the route.  I knew that just seeing it would help me finish strong and I was getting desperate when I finally made the slightest turn and saw it.  Oh. Thank. Heavens. I glanced at my watch and saw 1:16-something and made it my goal to cover those remaining yards before it got to 1:17.  I hit the finish line in 1:16:56 - I did it!

Finish line celebration! (Pic: Stude)

Three races, three PRs, and one new hashtag: #PRincess. (Thanks for that one, Stude).  Somehow I have caught lightning in a bottle.  To say it is exciting would be an understatement and to say that I'm fired up for running would be an even bigger understatement.  I'm not sure how I got here, but I am not going to take it for granted.  My recent success has only made me hungry for more and I'm inspired to work even harder.  Let's see what else these legs have in them!

Special Edition: Rocky Raccoon Pacer's Report

As many of you know, Team K recently headed down to Hunstville to crew and pace for some of our friends at the Rocky Raccoon 50/100 Mile Trail Run. There are so many moving and inspirational stories from that weekend. Erik was fortunate enough to crew for our friend Greg and I wanted to make sure that he had a proper place to tell his story....so I suggest that he appear here as a "guest blogger." So without further adieu....I give you Erik and his Rocky Raccoon Pacer's Report. Enjoy!

I’ve never had so much respect for a starting line in my life. It was cold, dark, raining, and the 100 miles ahead was daunting, even to a bystander. The starting “portal” was posted “Runners Only, No Crews.” It had the air of a serious space, hallowed ground. Runners entered with pride, hopes, goals, and fears but most of all with bravery. It was awe inspiring to watch these runners take off into the cold, wet darkness.
Over the hours runners would reemerge in various states of distress, hope, and determination. Greg always came out of the madness calm, strong, and unscathed. It wasn’t until after 60 miles of terrain that I would realize this wasn’t just a brave front but a constant state of being.
After standing, sitting, pacing, gearing up, rechecking gear, wringing hands, sitting, standing, and more pacing around Greg appeared….60 miles on his feet….looking….fresh…..I was amped….I was nervous…I was guilty of the sin of extreme Pride. I was about to pass through the portal and get a glimpse of a hard fought, hard wrought world. On my own I didn’t have the right to step foot on the trail, but I was part of a crew, I was pacing a 100 miler! Proud! When Greg was ready it was all I could do not to sprint. When we entered the course he gently mentioned that we wouldn’t be going quite that fast….I have no idea how quickly I started, I was running on pure adrenaline. The course started out dark and got darker and more narrow. Greg said he felt strong and suggested I fall back and follow, chat and keep him company. When the course widened we’d run side by side. We wound our way through the damp darkness, skipping over tree roots and rocks, navigating twists, turns, and bridges all the while engaging other runners. We kept our feet dry as long as possible but eventually ended up in the bottoms with deep, wide mud flats…all the while Greg advising the best path when there was one, trudging straight through when there was not. We would pass other runners coming and going, their faces holding varying looks of pain, panic, and confusion. There were some, who like Greg, looked strong, many however, looked beaten and empty. They would be on the trail’s edge clutching a tree, slowly putting weight on a suspect foot to see if it could support it. Greg would call out “good job” and I could tell they heard him but didn’t process his words. I felt bad for them, I hurt for them but I was empowered by MY runner. Greg had run the same miles, trudged through the same mud and had been drenched by the same cold rain but remained strong, even smooth and focused. The man possessed GRACE! After all those miles not only was he physically intact, he was upbeat, positive, charming, and genuinely concerned about his fellow runners. While other people’s eyes had gone dim and hazed over he retained his twinkle. Unfucking believable…..again I was in awe…


Matt with pacer Jon, Drum, Greg, and Erik

We’d come to an aid station and he’d say he was going to sit for a bit then he would power on. “We’ll just grab something and eat while we walk.” He’d advise me “it’s 6 miles to the next station, make sure you stock up.” He was looking out for me….70 miles on his feet and he is still concerned about others, about me. Amazing in general, but not surprising considering-after all this is Greg. We trudged on, at times maintaining quite a quick pace even up steep terrain. A big, bright moon shining down on us through the tall, tall pines...at times running with Matt and Beth, playing leap frog over long stretches…other times totally by ourselves. We’d pass pockets of other runners and exchange encouraging words and nods. We’d trot the Jeep trails and mountain goat the steep, rooty paths…Greg maintaining his smooth, constant, forward form. I’d stumble from kicking a rock or a tree root and Greg would make sure I was ok. He is 75 miles in and he’s still dodging obstacles with high knees and perfect form—always positive, encouraging those we’d pass. GRACE!
He let me lead the last 2 miles. He didn’t need to be pulled along, he was still plenty strong, he just knew I wanted to. As we neared the end he gave me a few directives as to what he’d need after he refueled at the main tent…that and he thanked me….after taking me on the run of my life, giving me a glimpse into an elite world and showing me the fight, spirit and grace of a champion, he thanked me….
What an eye opening experience…I’m not sure who shed the first tear when Drum brought him across after the 100 mile mark. It may well have been a 3-way tie….


Erik, Greg, and Drum at the finish line

And for the "rest of the story" don't miss Drum's blog as she tells her side of miles 80-100. It is a MUST READ!

(Thanks to Sarah Florence and Fiona Lu for the pictures!)