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!