Sunday, January 31, 2016

State #17 Brainerd, Minnesota

April 25, 2015

                                       The land of 10,000 Lakes


How can we pass up on an opportunity to pace a race, stay at a lodge by the lake and pick up another new state.  I am learning to think first before shouting out to my husband, "How about this race?"  Once I do, he commits to going to whatever race I mention.  As the race name comes out of my mouth, he looks it up and decides we are going before I can even look up the logistics and expense.   Upon further research, I realize we can't make it a double and it may not be the wisest choice economically. My husband works with a guy who grew up in the area and now we are going to Minnesota.  I am so glad we make the trip happen. After an exhaustive computer search, I find reasonable flights and the cabin is part of the pacing gig.  We fly into Minneapolis and drive two hours (turns into three with traffic) to Nisswa where the race begins.  Wow, if you think Los Angeles traffic is bad try Minneapolis in the late afternoon hours, pretty rough. I quickly learn the two seasons for Minnesota, WINTER ...and ROAD CONSTRUCTION. We are definitely there during ROAD CONSTRUCTION SEASON forcing me to work on my patience, a skill my daughter feels I lack!!
After a longer than expected drive, we make it to packet pick-up at the Brainerd Grand View Lodge on Lake Gull.  We are able to get the pacers signs and bibs before finding the pacer cabin located right near the lake with beautiful views.
The large nine bedroom cabin is very nice with a large comfortable living room, sitting room, and a game room.
After settling in we take a walk down to the lake and around the grounds before walking up to the the main lodge and restaurant for dinner. Get excited almost time for dinner!!
My husband has a Walleye fish sandwich and I have a burger at the bar and talk with a local who is fascinated with our fifty state journey especially since he is very inebriated. (Doesn't everything sound interesting after a few drinks) It is a very busy place on a Friday night. Usually the lake is still frozen at this time of year, we are happy for what the locals call a mild winter.  I find that hysterical! If you live in Minnesota MILD WINTER is an incomprehensible concept to my  California weakling butt. Many Minnesotans come to the lake lodge for weekend getaways, weddings, family reunions and other special occasions.
Once back at the cabin we get ready for race morning and settle in for some television before bed.  The Diane Sawyer special about Bruce Jenner happens to be on! Life is definitely full of surprises. Race morning will be a cool one for me. I wear a jacket and gloves for the entire marathon ideal running weather and I never feel too warm. It is perfect for my husband, no chance for a meltdown with these temperatures.  He is terribly affected by rays of sunshine and heat. After a short drive to downtown Nisswa, we park in front of the chamber of commerce building that has nice warm bathrooms open to runners. I love small town marathon events for the awesome hospitality. The start is near the finish line area and I stake a spot behind the "start line" before the race gets underway. 
I run and chat with a gentlemen from Minnesota for the first few miles who has run several marathons and is trying for a P. R.  He plans to run with me for awhile and eventually pick up his pace. I tell him in all honesty if he wants a P.R. he needs to go for it with a strong push from the beginning and maintain throughout the race. He continues to run with me, but eventually says he is going to take my advice and steps up his pace. I never encounter him again! I wish I asked his name to find out his time later. He is at least under 4:14!  Most runners are just doing their own thing. Often in small marathons there are only a few people that run in the pace groups. This is also a half marathon and I strike up a conversation with two local ladies. We talk about their state and how they endure the cold winters. It is just a cultural thing, I guess you adapt to your environment.  I marvel at their training in the winter months.  I have a great time talking with these two ladies. One lady, a grandmother of four, is feeling good and pushes ahead in the last few miles.  I run with the other lady until the turn off when she heads to the finish line and I turn for my second loop of the course.
Nice scenic course!
The second half is a desolate run by myself.  Most of the runners do the half and I run many miles alone except for an occasional faster paced relay runner. In the latter portion of the race, I pick up some runners. I am jigsawing with an older gentlemen who is struggling, yet holding his own and fighting to maintain pace. When we hit a gradual hill he sighs in disgust as I pull ahead. The last five miles of any marathon can reveal runners in various states of agony.  I do my best to encourage, but sometimes saying nothing is best. Around the twenty-three mile mark I approach a women and she turns and says, "Oh my God you are an Angel!" She stays with me to the finish.  Once we are really close I tell her to go ahead and give it all she has to the end. It is encounters with runners that make pacing so rewarding. I don't get nervous running marathons anymore, but I do when I pace. There is so much more at stake when other runners are counting on me to keep a steady pace.
Love seeing the American Flag!!
I feel really good with my effort as I cross the finish line thirty seconds under my 4:15 pace, right on target. I sit on the bleachers and cheer runners as they come down the chute, until I feel myself getting super cold in my wet clothes.  It's my cue to get to the car and change into dry clothes before my teeth start chattering.  As I walk back to the finish area, I see my husband running the final stretch.  He doesn't have any runners with him, but he hits his pace target as well.  It's a good day for two pacers from California!
We both successfully complete our pacing times!! 
Since we are spending an extra night in Minneapolis, there is no need to hurry. Back at the cabin, we shower and organize our luggage. Backpacks are way easier and less burdensome~for future reference.  Another pacer at the cabin hangs around and chats for awhile. He is an experienced runner with well over two hundred marathons under his belt, quite impressive.  Once he leaves we take our time enjoying the lake area.


My husband throws a few horseshoes, something he did all the time growing up.  We sit in the Adirondack chairs and stare out at the endless lake. The van parked near our cabin turns out to be  the cleaning crew.  Must be time for us to leave this slice of heaven. After a quick look through the main lodge and gift shop, it is time to go.
All of a sudden, my ravaging hunger hits, time to feed the beast. We look for...what else some PIZZA!.  I am beyond starving without any snacks to quiet my "inner hungry hippo."  We use our phones to find a place to eat and apparently the place we choose does not exist or GPS is just confused on how to get there.  After what seems like an entire afternoon of searching~may be an extreme exaggeration~we abandoned that idea. Sometimes there is just no reasoning with a hungry hippo and my patience goes out the window! I wonder how my husband tolerates me all these years. After driving practically all the way back to Minneapolis, I tell hubby to STOP anywhere even if it's Taco Bell! Almost like a magical mirage, he pulls the car into a place called Pizza Ranch.
It's a chain we do not have in California. It seems like a buffet type place. I am not sure if it will be good, but it is very busy with a long line. A lady in front of us says it is really good. Now, we want a Pizza Ranch in California. Well maybe not, we might end up becoming marathon eaters instead.  After stuffing ourselves like little "Porky the Pigs" with pizza, chicken mashed potatoes and a great salad bar our food intake for the day is complete... no late night snacks  necessary.
In a food coma, we just want to get to our hotel and lay down but nobody is at the counter.  I wait for what feels like fifteen minutes, my husband comes in to see what's going on.  The guy isn't even apologetic when he finally comes out. It is an omen to the bad night to come. There are many sports teams staying at the hotel and our room is right next to a noisy conference room that remains loud until the wee hours of the morning! A call to the front desk does nothing to quiet the raucous crowd. Needless to say, we are tired and slightly grumpy in the morning. (Note to self~think about room location in the future...key word think.) With a late night flight home we have lots of time to wearily explore the city.  A walk through the Minnesota Sculpture Garden yields some interesting sights and art pieces.







A short walk around one of the many lakes seems like a good post recovery activity on a beautiful spring day in the city. Too bad the winters are so brutal. There are tons of people out walking and running.
Lake Harriet
The walk starts out as a simple stroll until it becomes a walk around the entire perimeter As we look back we are at the point of no return and manage three exhausting miles back to the car. Maybe a nap in the car is a better idea...
It is a very long walk around the lake!
That walk deserves some lunch at a place called The 5*8 Club for a Juicy Lucy.  The cheese is cooked in the center of the burger. It isn't as good as I anticipate, but it hits the spot with a Grain Belt beer!
A quick stop downtown to get a picture of the Mary Tyler Moore statue seems like a good idea too for a bit of nostalgia. We both grew up watching the show.  
The last stop of the day is the Mall of America. It is huge with an indoor amusement park and I find my mini me.
My own hungry hippo lives inside me!
At the airport we miss the turn for our car rental place. My husband hops out to take the luggage to baggage check-in and I have to literally drive out and around the airport to come back into the car return~Only Us!  Every time we travel there is something. On my way to check-in I am  finishing a Diet Coke, texting my husband and carrying a bag as I try to sit down I miss the chair. I clumsily land on the floor spill the Coke everywhere and hit my head on the concrete wall! Wow how embarrassing, but I am sure those around me got a chuckle at my expense. Eventually, my husband finds me on the floor! Lesson learned: don't drink, text, drag a carry-on and try to sit at the same time. I don't even remember the flight or the drive home, but I never forget the glorious feeling of pulling into the driveway, knowing a little furry face will greet me! Climbing into bed with my little fur ball is the best ending to every trip even if she is slightly hostile at being left again!
Wow...you ran another marathon!




Friday, January 29, 2016

State #18 Shiprock, New Mexico

May 1, 2015

I suddenly feel compelled to write another blog.  Can my subconscious be saying, "It is almost the end of the month you are about to blow your New Year's Resolution of two blogs per month." With only a few days to spare, here I go again!
 State #18 is a crazy ride to the middle of nowhere.  After just flying home from Minnesota on Monday (state #17) time to hit the road for Las Vegas on Friday.  It turns into a four night trip with some Vegas fun on our way to and from Shiprock, New Mexico.  After five and a half hours in the car, we arrive at the Tropicana Hotel on a warm day in May and go straight to the pool for some sun and a swim.
Let's go to the pool already!
My favorite things...sun, pool and food!
 It isn't too busy on Friday night, but apparently Saturday night is sold out for some fight at the MGM. (which lasts one round)  I don't see the entertainment value in watching people hit each other.  Thankfully, we are on our way to less inhabited lands. Driving to off the wall marathons is an opportunity to see the terrain of many different states and a chance to glimpse what life is like in other areas.
Lots of views like this...
We weave in and out of Utah and Arizona and see interesting geological rock formations.  My husband, the civil engineer, is quite fascinated. He points out information about roads and random facts as we drive along.
Wow...the window sure is dirty! These are the things I notice...
Back to back weekend travel plans seemed like a good idea, from behind the computer, but actually riding in the car isn't quite so fun nor as quick and easy.  A detour stop at Glen Canyon Dam~amazing views~breaks up the monotony of endless sitting and mindless driving.



Too bad tours inside the dam are not allowed! (Just Kidding!!)  I did the Hoover Dam tour once and that is enough damn excitement for me! The visitor center~filled with families and tour bus riders~is a nice break from driving and a popular stop especially since options are limited.  
Once back in the car, more endless undulating two lane roads delight us.  As we get closer to Shiprock there is little to see other than baron, unpopulated high desert landscape and random McDonald's billboards. The fast food signs feel out of place for the terrain and landscape.
Cell service is spotty at best.  We make a quick stop at Four Corners for a picture~not worth it, in my opinion! But what the heck, when will I ever be here again and it does benefit the Navajo Nation making it a worthwhile contribution.  It is also the only place in the United States that connects four contiguous states!
Four Corners feels like a definite tourist trap at five bucks a person. It is not my thing but my husband loves it. A tour bus full of young people from Brazil also enjoying the stop. It benefits the Navajo Nations and that's a good thing!
As we drive into town or the small community, we still struggle to find the packet pick-up location.  Pulling over to ask a local resident, who happily directs us on how to get to the destination.  If you blink you miss it even though we drive up and down the small strip rather than turning at the gas station. Success, we finally find the expo. What a big event for a small Navajo Indian Reservation.  The packet pick up is the place to be.  People and families come out to run in the kids race, eat at the pasta dinner and participate in the festivities.  Since we are pacing the race, we check in with the race director who is super nice and helpful.  Definitely a true runner type who does a lot to promote the Shiprock Marathon, a great running event still going strong for over 30 years!!
The town is so small it does not have a motel.  Runners from out of town have to drive thirty minutes to the next town of Farmington with a few motels and some restaurants.  Now we are talking my language...what's for dinner tonight? Our motel is nothing fancy and after driving all day the last thing we want to do is drive to find food.  There is a little pizza place across the street that is good enough.  I just want to eat and go to bed, but I still have to connect with a fellow pacer. Luckily, he is staying at the hotel across the street and I run over to give him his sign. He and his wife are super nice, but big talkers forcing us to share running histories. That is the thing about runners we love running and we love talking about our running...
Once back in the room, I shower and organize for the morning.  We  have to be ready to check out in the morning and drive to Flagstaff after the marathon. Definitely need a different route back to Las Vegas. On race morning, we zip back to Shiprock to park and get to the buses. (Not as easy as you would think)  There is a long line of cars trying to turn into the lot on the left.  It is taking forever, but I am channeling my daughter who always tells me to wait my turn and be patient.  I last way longer than normal, she might be half proud.
But as time is ticking, I have to get us to the bus.  It is not good for a pacer to start a race late.  I cut across and park on the right in the dirt field.  As we run to the buses they are moving, "Oh no wait!"  The race director sees us and says there is still a bus at the end not to worry.  Once we are on the bus, in the very last seat, we sigh with relief.  A little work on the traffic control and parking situation is the only improvement needed.  Other than the parking panic, it is a great race experience. Well and maybe the bus ride, the bounciest bus ride ever especially in the very back seat.  Apparently, it is caused from freezing and thawing of the road which causes the cracks which makes for one bumpy ass ride! Finally we arrive at the start line, located at Navajo Red Valley Community Center which is on the Arizona-New Mexico border.  I am thrilled it get off the bus and make a quick potty stop before pictures at the start line.
Marathon Maniac Group Picture!

Shiprock Marathon Pacers!
People may think it is a boring race course, but I thoroughly enjoy my run!  I find it to be extremely peaceful and serene.  I talk and run with many people along the way.  Most people only last a mile at a time with me, some last for several miles at the 4:30 pace.  In the beginning, I run with two girls each doing their first marathon.  They are in and out of my group.  Eventually they use a walk run method.  I catch up to them each time they walk and we chat about the marathon and how it will get tough near the end.  I say, "I am not going to lie, it is hard and it hurts the last few miles, but you can do it!"  I am pleased to see they are not too far behind me at the finish line.  There is something really special about the Shiprock Marathon.  The entire community seems to come to together as runners, volunteers and spectators.
 
Obesity and alcoholism a prevalent problem in the United States, seems even more intensified on Indian Reservations.  It is such a positive thing to see the community embrace running as a healthy outlet to combat these issues.  I enjoy my conversations with various runners who are mainly from surrounding areas in New Mexico. The beauty of  running a marathon in all  fifty states is the opportunity to learn about other people I would never encounter otherwise.  I cherish my conversations with people while we share a journey and a moment in time.  As a pacer when I approach a runner who is slowing and struggling they often hop on the bus in hopes of staying with me, but often it does not last for long.  I do what I can to motivate and encourage runners to stick with me as long as possible. Unfortunately people usually can't maintain the pace and I have to leave them behind, it is the hardest part of being a pacer.
The aid stations are well manned and the scenery is majestic.  Around mile nine, I pick up a runner just as the Shiprock formation, comes into view, both serve as my runner partners for many miles.  The rock stands strong while he is struggling like a true warrior. I share my Advil with him in hopes it helps with some of his aches and pains.  He is a twenty year military man and I thank him for his service to our country.  Around mile sixteen he no longer holds my pace and I have to let him go, but wish him well.
Army veteran who I share several meaningful  miles!  Let's smile!
I meet a fellow Maniac and fifty stater from Connecticut.  We share some time on the road.  She is much closer to finishing the states. I believe she has about six states left.  We jigsaw back and further for awhile, but she is struggling with a bloody nose and takes a walk break. I meet a local lady next, who ran the Boston Marathon the year before.  We share Boston experiences, but she decides to slow her pace a bit.  It is warming up and most runners crumble when the sun comes out and the temperature rises. The heat does not affects me, luckily.  My malfunctioning thyroid comes in handy for one thing I guess.  Once I hit the last six miles, I make the only turn of the course onto the main highway (191) back to town.  It also is the highway to Colorado. The support along the road is very positive and upbeat. There are citizens cheering and cars honking with people waving, and giving thumbs up. I hear a few runners grumble when I pass them.  It is such a devastating blow when a pacer passes a runner and they struggle to keep up, but can't.
KEEP UP!
I know it happens to me too and it is not a good feeling.  I am right on pace with the mile markers until the last mile which is short by two tenths bringing me in two minutes early.  I like to be under by no more that fifty-nine seconds, so it feels like a fail to me, but it is important to it keep in prospective. I take pacing seriously and hate not hitting my exact mark.

Alas, there is a nice food spread to ease my sense of failure.  I have a slice of pizza and some "Cuties" all the way from a little farm town twenty miles from our city, a taste of home. My husband comes through the finish line very overheated.  He has some pizza too.  After a short recap of our experiences we head to the car change into dry clothes and drive to Flagstaff. A shower will have to wait until later. Once we arrive in Flagstaff we check into a mom and pops motel, quickly shower and move on to my favorite time of day, DINNER!
Me, in my element!
My husband is toast, he has no energy to do much of anything. He is fighting a headache. Fortunately, we find a burger place across the street, and with no fuel left in the proverbial tank, we drive over rather than walk.  The place is called "Buns and Huggers."  I am excited to see they have onion rings and I suggest we order a big batch to share, but he wants fries. Once our food arrives he decides he likes my onion rings better and eats them. "Excuse me, you wanted fries remember!" I remind him.  The fries are good, but the onion rings are amazing at least the few I get to eat way! 

There is Mr. Onion Ring Stealer!
On our  way back to Las Vegas we take a short tour of the mountainous Flagstaff area.


Flagstaff is a nice city of approximately sixty thousand people and not what I imagine when  thinking about Arizona.  I think hot and lacking in vegetation, in the same way visitors imagine California as all beach and Hollywood!

Now, it's time to get back to Las Vegas for our last night of fun and relaxation!  We stay downtown and walk down Fremont street, but first it is back to the pool for a swim and a cocktail.
Pool and cocktail...that's the way to finish state #18!
We stay at a hotel right across from a motorcycle bar.  Totally not our thing, but what the heck we will venture in for a beer before dinner at Pizza Rock.


"Believe in something, I believe I will have another beer!"
We eat tasty pizza at a downtown establishment.  My husband waits and waits for his calazone but it never arrives.  The waitress forgot to in put his order~eventually he gets his food and it's complimentary~making us winners in Vegas.
After a long few weeks of travel our little~okay not so little~middle aged bodies are not what they used to be.  We last only a short time at The Fremont Street Experience before crashing. Did you know the ladies only where pasties and have bare bottoms. I wonder if the girls will be completely nude the next time we venture to Vegas! 

Another race experience is put into the memory bank!  While it is fun to travel and see different places, there is no place like home. Definitely time to get back to a regular training schedule before my expanding waistline gets to big for my running shorts. 
Big Whoop, you ran another Marathon
So happy to be back home with my Tenny.  She is unimpressed and uninspired as usual and particularly annoyed being without her bed for way too many nights!