Long Beach Half Marathon

Okay, I confess.  Here's the real reason why I'm updating my blog right now: I ran the Long Beach Half Marathon this morning and I'm recovering on the couch.  Normally, my Sunday would involve baking or sewing, but my legs are stiff and I need to stay off my feet.  My Sundays have almost always involved running for at least the past year, but rarely do I run 13.1 miles.  

My friend Andy has been running with a running group every Sunday for the past couple months or so.  She heard about it from her friend, and I heard about it from her, and I've been joining them for the past month.  We meet at a designated place that rotates around the area every Sunday at 7am.  It's early, but since it's long run day, it's nice to get it out of the way in the morning.  Sometimes it's hard to muster the motivation to run on long run days.  Anyway, the group is a lot of fun and the people are very nice.  Running is an individual sport, but at the same time, it's not.  Running with other people makes me feel like part of a community and it's a great motivator.  About half a dozen of us ran the half or full marathon today, and it was great to meet up with everyone before the race and hang out while we waited for race time.

I wanted to break 2 and a half hours today, but I had to revise my goal when it turned out to be warmer than I'd anticipated and when I got a side stitch around mile 9.  I finished in 2:35, which is still a personal record (PR).  Not bad, and I'll take it.  I just checked my stats, and I was pretty much in the middle of the pack among all racers, among just the women, and among my age group.  As someone who still gets self conscious about my pace (I think I'm slow), I was proud to see that I'm actually a middle of the pack runner.  

I love races- the energy, the excitement, the jitters.  Humanity is at its best at races.  Strangers cheer for strangers, strangers high five strangers, and strangers shout out your name in encouragement.  The best sign I saw said "I'm a stranger, but I'm so PROUD of you."  If I could, I would have given that guy a hug, but I was on the side of the road opposite him.  Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that we still rock even though we're a bit slow and have no chance of winning.  It's nice to be reminded that simply just running the race is an accomplishment and what's important.      

The race course was nice and scenic, and flat (which might be of more importance).  I tried my best to take in all the sights, but at around mile 8, I got kind of bored and then tired, and then I had to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other.  Of course, Drew got a photo of me approaching the finish line.     

And post race.

 

I don't know what this says about my adviser or her students, but many of us are distance runners.  I believe that an overwhelming majority of her students have completed marathons, half marathons, or triathlons (perhaps not under her tenure, but at least at some point in their life).  Today, three of us ran the half marathon and one ran the full.  (And of course, I've already emailed her this photo.  She is beyond proud of us and does not hesitate to show her support, which is one of many reasons we love her.)

After completely a half and full marathon in the past year, I wasn't sure what to expect today.  It wasn't nearly as easy as the first half of the OC Marathon, but that makes sense, as I was overtrained for a half and trained for the full.  Today's race was tough; I got bored around mile 8, and the last 3.1 miles were quite a challenge.  In contrast to the past two races, for this one, I was better trained- physically and mentally.  When I ran the half last January, I remember various body parts beginning to hurt around mile 8, and I could barely walk after the race.  When I ran the full, the race was mentally challenging, and the last 10 miles were physically challenging.  This time, even though I'm stiff and a bit sore, I don't feel as bad as I'd felt after the half.  And even though it got tough at the end, I didn't get frustrated or beat down, and I knew I'd finish.  Next up is the Surf City Half in February, and already, I can't wait.   

New York, New York

I've been slacking on the blogging the past few months (or year is probably more precise), but I have some good reasons.  You may not know this, but I've struggled with neck and shoulder pain pretty much throughout all of grad school due to the amount of time I spend on my laptop and my non-ergonomically correct work space.  In an attempt not to make things worse, I try to stay off my laptop as much as possible when I'm at home, which is when I would blog.  In an effort to alleviate the pain, I (along with my friend and officemate) converted my office desk into a standing desk using cinderblocks.  Standing while I work has done wonders for my productivity; I'm certainly not going to waste time on the internet if I'm standing up (not that blogging is wasting time, but you know what I mean).  And finally, Drew and I got a tablet about a month ago, which has also done wonders for my productivity.  Now I associate my laptop with work and the tablet with leisure stuff, like reading blogs and searching for recipes.  What does this have to do with blogging?  Well, I'm certainly not going to tap out a blog post on the tablet.  

A couple weeks ago, Drew and I went to New York to visit his family and attend his niece's wedding.  It was my first time meeting his dad's side of the family and his remaining siblings.  The week was a whirlwind, but a good one.  I ate a lot, paying a visit to the family's favorite bakery just a mile down the street nearly every day.

Drew's family lives in Long Island, but we had to pay a couple visits to the city.  On the day we went to Brooklyn and Queens to see where Drew's parents grew up, we ended the day with Coney Island.        

Of course, Drew and I couldn't not ride the Cylcone, a wooden roller coaster which I believe might be among the oldest in the United States.

  

On another day, Drew and I went in to the city to visit my old stomping grounds.  During the 2001-2002 school year, I thought I wanted to be a photographer and so I enrolled in the School of Visual Arts.  Below, the Flatiron building, which was just a few blocks from where I lived.

Frank's pizza was on the corner below my dorm, and even thought I ate there only a couple times, I was glad to still see it there.  Whenever I walked home, the smells of pizza were simply intoxicating.   

 I lived here, the George Washington (G-Dub for short), on the third floor. 

 SVA's main building.

Pick-A-Bagel was just a couple blocks away, and I probably ate there about once a week.  Usually I would eat an egg and cheese sandwich on an everything bagel.  This was before I drank coffee, so I ate it with a Snapple.  Sometimes I'd mix it up and get an everything bagel with cream cheese, but that was rare (and not really much of a change I realize).  Pick-A-Bagel was my first experience with Black and White cookies, a New York institution.  My friend, who came to visit a couple times, even made up a song about Pick-A-Bagel with one of his friends.  It went something like "Pick a bagel, any bagel.  All the colors, of the rainbow."

Even though Drew and I had just split a slice of cheese pizza from Frank's only minutes before, I dragged him into Pick-A-Bagel for- you guessed it- egg and cheese on an everything bagel.  And coffee instead of Snapple.  

 

After splitting pizza and a bagel sandwich, we had to walk it off.  We headed in the direction of the Empire State Building.

We hopped on the subway and headed to Brooklyn, where I worked in an art gallery.  The Rotunda Gallery was a small gallery in Brooklyn Heights, the first stop in Brooklyn.  I had a lot of fun working in the gallery, and I learned a lot.  We had a quick look around, and as everything we'd done, it brought back a lot of good memories.  We walked around the neighborhood and then to the Brooklyn promenade, which has a great view of Manhattan's skyline.

 And a pretty good view of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The next trip to the city, we went with Chris, Drew's brother.  We went to the 2nd Ave Deli for lunch, which was supposed to be one of the best places to get a pastrami sandwich, a New York specialty.  It did not disappoint. 

Next, we went to Times Square. 

And then to the Marriott.  My friends and I used to go to Times Square just to walk around and have a look about once a week or once every other week.  (this is a bit strange to me now, as Times Square doesn't really change so much that you need to check it out once a week, but it was free and we liked to walk around, so that was probably a big appeal)  Anyway, one of the things we'd do is go to the Marriott and ride the elevator to the top (it's 48 floors, and we were able to get to the 45th) and then look over the edge of the balcony.   

So naturally, I dragged Drew and Chris to the top.  They were good sports.  We went up to the 48th floor to the lounge and had a drink.  The lounge rotates, and it boasts some nice views of the city. 

 

We ended the day with a Yankees game, and Drew's other siblings joined us.  It was a great game, and the  ball park was really nice, naturally.

On our last day in the city, Drew and I headed out to Central Park and walked around.

And then we headed home!

a year of running

I'm currently training for the Long Beach Half Marathon, which is only 4 Sundays away, on October 7th.  As I train for this race, I can't help but reflect on running and training for my first half and my first full.  Not only that, but this Thursday is my one year running anniversary, so I've been extra-reflective lately.  

After running a couple miles here and there for a few years, with a couple 5Ks sprinkled in, I picked up running a year ago last August.  I had always wanted to be a runner, but I lacked the motivation to become one.  After five years of graduate school and searching for ways to cope with the stress and anxiety (yoga has been invaluable, but I needed something more strenuous), I turned to running.  To motivate myself, I signed up for a 5K, a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving.  I began running with my friend Sam, and while training for the 5K, decided to up the ante and join her for the Southern California Half Marathon, which was in January.  I had never run farther than about 4 miles, and running 13.1 was unimaginable.  And I really didn't have a "running" background.  Even though I was physically active in high school, I was a diver, which didn't necessitate endurance or stamina.  And despite continuing to exercise in college and in graduate school, running didn't become a habit.  

Training for my first half marathon was intimidating, but exciting.  I can't describe how, after every long run, it felt so cool to think about how I'd run farther than I've ever run in my life.  The first time I ran 5 miles was the day before I defended my dissertation prospectus.  After telling my adviser, I'll never forget that she asked "Don't you feel mighty"?  I did indeed, and not just because I became ABD (all but dissertation).  I can't remember the first time I ran 6 miles, but I do remember the first time I ran 7.  Sam and I were on a running/walking/biking path on the way to the Back Bay.  We passed the sign announcing we were now in Newport Beach, and even though it was only 2 miles from home, we relished the feeling of running to another city.  I wore a Camelback for that run (I was testing out hydration packs and borrowed Sam's), and it rained off and on.  We ran nearly the entire side of the Back Bay, and at the end of 7 miles, Drew came to pick us up.  

When we ran 8 miles, we ran to the beach.  We took a hilly route, which wasn't the best idea, but we were rewarded with a wonderful beach view when we finished.  I ran 9 miles and 10 miles at Drew's mom and dad's in southwestern Virginia.  It was grueling and lonely.  The hills were nothing like the ones I was used to, and I didn't have Sam to talk to.  Since there had been bear sightings in the area, Drew followed me in the car, stopping every mile or so and waiting for me to catch up.  

When Sam and I ran the half marathon, after the 10 mile mark, every passing mile didn't go unnoticed, as we pointed out that it was the farthest I'd ever run (she ran this particular half marathon two years prior).  At the start of the half, I told her that I was thinking about finding a full marathon around the same time as the Big Sur Marathon (which she would be running) so that we could continue training together.  The marathon had always been a far fetched goal, and I felt that this would be a good time to do it, what with no kids and a flexible schedule.  By the end of our race, even though my feet hurt and I could not imagine running another 13.1 miles,  I decided to sign up for the OC Marathon.          

Marathon training is a blur, but we noted each time we ran farther than we'd ever run.  Some days were good running days, and some days were a challenge.  Regardless, every one was a tremendous accomplishment.  Our perspective shifted too; 5 mile runs became short runs, 10 miles were easy runs, and even a half marathon was no longer intimidating.  

After the OC Marathon, I wasn't sure if I'd ever run a full marathon again.  I'm still not sure.  But 2 days after the OC, I was already registered for the Long Beach Half and the Surf City Half (in February).  With a 5:46 marathon time, I decided that working on a half marathon PR (personal record) was a manageable and attainable goal (I'm shooting for a sub 2:30 time).  Training for a marathon is time consuming, and I knew I wouldn't be able to dedicate the time to bettering my marathon time.

This time around, training for the half is still rewarding, even though I don't finish a long run by noting that it was the farthest distance I've ever run.  Instead, I think about how much easier training is this time and how much faster I can run.  A year ago when I began running, it took me about 14 minutes to run/walk a mile.  Now I run between a 10:30 to 11 minute mile, and a 12 minute mile on long run days.  

More importantly, I've developed a love of running.  I never thought I'd say that.  Running has become a habit, and I miss it when I go longer than a week without doing it.  I get antsy.  I can't sit still.  I feel anxious, and I want to feel the wind on my face and the burn in my legs.  And having a love for running is a lot more important than any PR.           

cupcake apron

After sewing things like sandwich wrappers and produce bags, I finally tackled a bigger project, one involving a pattern.  I was flipping through a sewing book I checked out from the library, and as usual, I bookmarked a bunch of things I wanted to make.  Now, usually when this happens, I am overly ambitious and I don't actually make anything.  But not this time.  This cupcake apron was just too cute and I knew I had to make it.   

I got stumped a couple times, but the project was pretty easy and the apron took me only a week to make.     

Milwaukee

I went home in the middle of August, spending about a week in Minnesota before heading to Milwaukee for a family reunion.  I expected to go home to heat and humidity, but it was actually breezy and a bit chilly.  I had a good time seeing my family and reuniting with friends at home.  It was also interesting to see how much Rochester has grown since I'd last been home (which actually wasn't too long ago).  I relished the slower pace, fewer cars on the road, and the Minnesota nice.  Everywhere I drove, I could not help marveling the lack of traffic and lack of road rage.  After six years in Southern California, the heavy traffic, gridlock, parking difficulties, and impatient drivers has clearly taken its toll on me.     

After spending a week at home, my parents and I drove to Milwaukee (Drew flew in and met us there).  We were in Milwaukee for only a few days, but the days were jam packed.  On our first day, we went to a Brewers game.  The Brewers won, thanks to a grand slam hit in the 8th inning (I think it was the 8th).   

The next day was dedicated to the family reunion, which took place in a beautiful park.  It was a lot of fun, and the fun continued at our hotel where everyone was staying.  It was great meeting new people and catching up with familiar faces.  

On our final full day, we headed into downtown Milwaukee to explore the area before heading to the Irish Festival. 

I don't have pictures from the Irish Fest, but there was a lot of green, a lot of beer, and lots of Irish dancers.

tomatoes!

Behold!  The first tomatoes of the season.  Our tomatoes are finally turning red. 

I was so eager for our tomatoes to ripen, and now that they are, I am reminded that I should be careful for what I wish for.  I'm not sure what we're going to do with these tomatoes, let alone the other half dozen or so that will probably be ready tomorrow. 

garden envy

I'm experiencing garden envy these days.  Most of the garden plots are beautiful and full of green plants, but there are a couple surrounding our plot that look like they've been using performance enhancing drugs.  Some plots have tomato plants almost as tall as me, and one plot has a jalapeno plant that looks more like a small tree.  I can hardly believe it.  

Anyway, I know our garden isn't looking too bad.  The plants are green, and nothing has died (yet).  Even one of pepper plants, who had all its leaves except one break off, is on the mend and thriving.  I believe that my parents were quite impressed with my green thumb.  While they were visiting, we planted cucumber plants.  I'm pretty sure I will regret this decision when we are swamped with cucumbers in need of pickling come September (while I'm in the midst of the job search and nearing the start of the school year), but planting them seemed like a good idea at the time.       

 Below we have our first bell pepper.  It is difficult to see, but this is a Sweet Purple Beauty.

 Our tomato plants have lots of little green tomatoes.  I can't wait until they turn red.

We did some rearranging, which basically means that we got rid of the containers we had in the middle of the garden.  We couldn't get anything to grow in them, so we thought it best to recycle them and let someone else try their hand.  In their place, we planted cucumbers.   

sewing

I completely forgot to tell you that I got a sewing machine a few months ago.  I learned to sew when I was in high school.  My mom, realizing that I would certainly never be taller than 5 feet, thought it would be a good idea to learn.  She was right.  When I lived in Minnesota, I always had access to her sewing machine and therefore could always alter my pants.  However, living in California and not owning a sewing machine has meant that I'm at the mercy of someone else to alter my pants.  

I began the search (I use this term loosely) for a sewing machine about a year ago.  I thought I got a great deal on a used one off of Craig's List ($20), but the machine didn't actually work (I was naive and didn't think to try it out before purchasing it.  Oh well.  Live and learn.).  After this incident, I temporarily put my "search" on hold.  Then a few months ago, as luck would have it, one of my friends received a new machine for her birthday and sold me her old one.  It couldn't have worked out more perfectly.

I've set modest sewing goals since getting the machine.  In addition to hemming my pants (and my parents' pants), I used to sew skirts, pajama pants, scrunchies (yes, I realize I'm dating myself here.  Cut me some slack, I was on the gymnastics team and sewed them to match my leotards), and other stuff I can't recall.  The first time I went to Joann Fabrics, I tried me best to restrain myself, purchasing patterns for dresses, aprons, and pajamas.  (Never mind that I've yet to make any of these.)  

So far, I've managed to make a couple cloth napkins, reusable produce bags, and reusable sandwich wraps.  They're modest sewing projects and quite simple, but they're projects nonetheless.  And they look super cute.  Check out one of the sandwich wraps:                 

june

By the looks of this blog, it doesn't look like anything happened in June.  This, of course, isn't true.  As always, I was busy with the usual stuff- school, running, gardening, and so on.  But the biggest thing that happened in June was that my parents visited for about a week and a half.  They've been to California twice- San Francisco and Fresno- but never to Southern California. 

It was nice to have my parents visit- showing them around, dining out (Mexican food and seafood!), cooking for them, and doing the usual touristy stuff.  We went to the beach many times, and we took day trips down to San Diego and up to Los Angeles.  We also visited family in Torrance and Oceanside.  It was a busy trip and lots of fun.  

peppers, tomatoes, and eggplant

Last weekend, I turned over the garden, pulling out the last of the beets, kale, and chard.  I also pulled a few carrots, which smelled intoxicatingly sweet and tasted just as good.  The neatest thing is that somehow, I managed to grow this: 

I transplanted the volunteers, 6 Cherokee Purple tomato plants, and planted an Abe Lincoln tomato plant and a San Marzano.

 We also got 2 Sweet Purple Beauty pepper plants, 6 bell peppers, 2 jalapenos, and an eggplant.

 Two aerial views:

the volunteers

The garden is beautiful and green.  Basically, we're just waiting for our winter crops to run their course so we can get tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant in the ground.  I've pulled up quite a few beets, collards, and spinach mustard.  The broccoli is slowly coming in:

 The kale was a late bloomer:

 And so were the carrots:

 And now for a pleasant surprise:

Volunteers!  We had a tomato plant here last summer and now we have 7 volunteers in its place.  Volunteers are plants that you haven't actually planted.  They could be from seeds dropped by birds or a tomato that fell on the ground last summer, the latter is probably the most likely possibility.  This is great; I had no luck starting seedlings indoors, and now we shouldn't have to buy any tomato plants.  

Post 26.2

It didn't take too long to get over the trauma of running 26.2 miles on Sunday.  Even before I regained full control of my legs, I registered for the Long Beach Half Marathon (this October) and the Surf City Half Marathon (February 2013).  When I learned that I would receive a special medal and complete the Beach Cities Challenge if I run some combination of the OC, LB, and Surf City full and half marathons consecutively, I just couldn't resist. 

26.2

I survived.  It wasn't pretty, but I ran 26.2 miles and finished the OC Marathon yesterday.  I wasn't at all nervous headed into the race.  If anything, during the week before, I was experiencing feelings of dread mixed with excitement.    

During the week before the race, I thought a lot about running, my goals, and my accomplishments.  In just 8 months, I went from being a non-runner (running only a couple miles here and there) to being a runner.  I ran a 5K in November, and a half marathon in January.  And here I was about to run my first marathon, something that had always been a pipe dream.       

I had always wanted to be a runner, but could never find the motivation to stick with it.  Running a half marathon and eventually committing to a marathon definitely motivated me, and running with Sam was probably the best motivator.  I've found many benefits to running, aside from a leaner body and more muscles.  It has been the best stress reliever (yoga has been great too, and I still do it about once a week), but running has helped me manage the stresses of graduate school.

I also found many parallels between marathons and dissertations.  Both are long and challenging, and few people attempt either one.  Both require a lot of self motivation.  There are good days and there are bad.  On some days, it's a breeze and on other days, the tasks seems impossible.  Both require a lot of hard work, and consistency is key.  And few people see that hard work, they see only you at the finish line or at graduation.  Nobody sees you slogging away in your office writing, and nobody sees you slogging through a 20 mile run.  You have to pace yourself.  Go out too fast on a long run, and you'll struggle to finish.  I imagine the same holds true for the dissertation.  A game plan is necessary and tasks must be broken up into small, manageable goals.  I'm sure there are many other parallels, but these are the ones I thought of during my marathon training.  

And so this is why I wasn't nervous heading into the race.  I felt that I'd accomplished all I'd wanted to accomplish already.  I became a runner.  I ran a 5K and then a half marathon.  I fell in love with running, and I felt good because of it.  It helped me not hate grad school, and it made me happy.  I'd done everything I'd wanted to do, save for completing the full marathon.           

This is not to say that the marathon was a cake walk.  It wasn't.  I'm smiling in the pictures and I finished, but a lot happened over the course of 5 hours and 46 minutes.  The race started 15 minutes late and I was at the back of the pack.  I had to stop off at a porta potty in the first mile, which set me even further back.  I wasn't trying to win, but being at the back is lonely, as I would find out much later.  

The half marathon was supposed to start 45 minutes later, but with our time delay, we got only a 30 minute head start.  Around mile 3, I started getting passed by half marathoners.  My ego can handle getting passed, but I was running about 12 minute miles and was getting passed by people running about twice as fast.  As more and more half marathoners caught up, I felt like I was in the middle of a stampede.  Eventually though, their pace slowed and even though I kept getting passed, I estimate their pace was about a 10 minute mile.  Running with the half marathoners became enjoyable and the energy was contagious.  There were quite a few spectators, and it was nice running through Corona del Mar, Newport Beach, and the Back Bay.  Just before mile 12, I saw my friends out cheering for me.  It was exciting.  I felt really good and strong until mile 12, when the half marathoners peeled off and headed to the fairgrounds to finish.

My morale did a 180 at the halfway point.  I was no longer motivated by the half marathoners, and now I could see how few us marathoners were at the back of the pack.  Despite our slow pace, Sam and I were well trained, well, at least well trained enough to run up 21 miles (our longest training run).  I was one of the few people still running at this point.  I didn't want to give myself permission to walk until at least mile 20 (I was afraid it would make finishing even more painful, not to mention delay finishing), but I found it difficult to maintain my motivation when most of the people around me were walking.

The course is described as scenic, but this is not true.  The first half is scenic, the rest is terrible.  We ran through business areas and a deserted high school.  As someone who runs for the scenery, these were not good places to hit The Wall.  I began to feel demoralized during mile 14, but it wasn't until mile 16 when I would let myself admit it.  I felt like crying.  It was very lonely at the back of the pack.  I felt abandoned.  There were few spectators, and even the scheduled entertainment had abandoned us.  A police officer tried to keep up our spirits at the deserted high school, and I'm extremely grateful for that.  Sam (who ran the Big Sur marathon last weekend) warned me that it would get difficult around this time, and she was right.  The only things that kept me going at this point was her assurance that it would get better at mile 20, and that Drew and my friend Andy were waiting for me at mile 20.  Drew would go on to meet us at the finish line, but Andy was going to run the rest of the race with me.  

At mile 19, I got a supportive text from Sam.  I ran through South Coast Plaza, which was depressing.  I began to cry.  It sucked, it was frustrating, I was getting tired, and my feet hurt.  But I knew that things would turn around at mile 20, so I kept going.  Drew texted me to tell me they were at the corner of Harbor and Segerstrom, and I knew the only way to see them was to keep running.  

When I saw Drew and Andy, I immediately burst into tears and I told them it sucked.  Even though I was having a terrible time, the thought that I wouldn't finish never crossed my mind.  No matter how discouraged I got, I knew I was going to finish.  Andy had run a few marathons before, and I was so glad she was going to run the rest of this one with me.  She carried my water pack and supported not just me, but also the other runners whose spirits were surely flagging.  She thanked people for coming out to support us, which I could not find the strength to do.  We walked a few times during miles 21 and 22, but we mostly ran.  Surprisingly, it hurt more to walk and slowing down made it nearly impossible to start running again.  Plus, I wanted to finish as soon as possible, and I knew walking would only prolong the torture.  

I began to feel better at mile 23, mostly because I could wrap my head around running just 3 more miles.  That feeling got even better at miles 24 and 25.  After running what felt like really, really long miles, the last mile felt pretty short.  At mile 26, Andy peeled off to join the spectators at the finish line.  I didn't know how I would feel at this point, but I felt pretty numb.  There were a lot of people watching, so I didn't want to cry.  In previous races, I've always felt this surge of energy as I run to the finish line, but not this time.  I kept a consistent pace and crossed the finish line.  It was anti-climactic, but I was so relieved and happy to finish.  And I couldn't wait to get my race medal.  I was proud of myself for taking the ultimate running challenge and completing it.  Here I am crossing the finish line:

 

After getting water and food, I sat down to stretch and debrief Drew and Andy on the race.  Despite feeling terrible during miles 14-20, I was in really good spirits after the race.  Here I am, clearly having forgotten the trauma in the middle of the race:

After resting a bit, we headed out.  But not before a picture in front of the finish line:

I was sore after the race, but not as sore as I'd anticipated.  Drew met me at the finish line with flip flops, which made all the difference.  Surprisingly, I didn't have trouble walking, and I was even able to walk (slowly) to the car, which was parked in a nearby neighborhood about a half mile from the fairgrounds.  If anything, the marathon may have been more of a mental challenge than a physical one.

Chances are, I will run another marathon someday.  It really depends upon the marathon; if it's a big marathon with lots of cool scenery, then I'd definitely consider it.  Drew said the OC Marathon must not have been too traumatic, seeing as how the only things I complained about were the lack of scenery in the second half and dodging cyclists between miles 20 and 22.  If anything, I will continue running half marathons.  It's still a respectable distance, but not as strenuous.  Plus, training for a half marathon doesn't require as much time and commitment as marathon training.  

Up next?  The Surf City Half Marathon in Huntington Beach next February.  I can't wait.     

beets!

A couple days ago, we harvested our first crop of beets:

This was our second attempt at growing beets, and we were happy to get a crop this time. After planting some last August, we tried again in February. It's amazing how important it is to plant crops during the recommended season.

We have also learned, and this really goes without saying, to plant only the food you will actually eat. We are fans of greens (arugula, spinach, kale, lettuce, collards, etc) and we planted a bunch in February. It seems that we can't eat them fast enough, and I'm just glad that only about half of what we planted actually came up.