25th Annual Beepball Classic; or, My First Celebrity Meeting

A couple of weeks ago I had the distinct pleasure of attending the 25th Annual Beepball Classic at George M. Steinbrenner Field (home of the New York Yankees' spring training).

This annual event is a modified baseball game in which staff and client's from the Tampa Lighthouse for the Blind play against "All Stars" from the local media. To level the playing field, so to speak, the All Stars team members are all blindfolded while on the field so they do not have the advantage of sight, as the Lighthouse players are all blind or sight-impaired. Instead of relying on vision, players must rely on hearing; the ball used in the game beeps, as do the only two bases on the field--at first and third (if a player reaches one of the bases, the play is considered a home run and a point is scored). Depending on which direction the ball goes on the field, a person sitting behind home plate will switch on the base that is in the opposite direction, so the player doesn't trip over the ball.

The All Stars team consisted of several WFLA News Channel 8 personalities, most notably Chief Meteorologist Steve Jerve, whom I've admittedly had a bit of a crush on since the fourth grade, when he visited my elementary school in Casselberry, Florida (and then he followed me to Tampa! Or perhaps it was the other way around...). Also on the team were Tampa Tribune writers and local politicians. And then there was the sole New York Yankees employee (also my boyfriend), Tim Guidry.

There they were--my boyfriend and my 22-year-long crush, side by side.

The main reason this event is put on each year is to raise money for the Lighthouse, which provides free services to community members in need. Because this was the 25th annual event, Tim, on behalf of the New York Yankees Tampa Foundation, presented the Lighthouse with a $2500 check just before the game started. In an ironic moment, we were deprived of sound during the check presentation, as the mic was not turned on.

Once the game got underway, I must say I was thoroughly entertained. Watching the blindfolded players try to adapt to a setting in which they could not see a thing was rather amusing. When at bat, each player was escorted from the dugout to home plate and positioned for the best possible chance of hitting the ball.

The pitcher let the player know the ball was being released by calling "Pitch!" each time he threw the beeping ball. And then, a wide variety of things happened. Most often the ball was swung at too early or too late. Sometimes the ball was clipped and fouled. Rarely, the bat actually made full contact with the ball, but the ball had to make it past a white line on the field to be in play, and often it didn't go far enough and was considered foul. But on the few occasions that it did go far enough, the player then had to listed for which base was beeping and try to run to it and touch it (there were foam constructions at about arm height that players could reach for). Meanwhile, players in the outfield had to try to listen for the beeping ball and then recover it from the ground. Some of the more amusing moments of the game occurred in the outfield, when players (usually on the All Stars team) would hear the ball, get low to the ground, then eventually crawl on the ground and search all around with their hands, sometimes never to find it.

Tim actually hit the ball at least twice, but it fouled back both times. Oh, and instead of three strikes, batters got five. Which was a reasonable and necessary adjustment.

Nice form!

The same thing happened with Steve (yes, I took pictures of both of them):

In the end, the Lighthouse beat the All Stars five to one. I think in the history of this match-up, the All Stars have only beat the Lighthouse once. Which is pretty much how it should be.

The highlight of the game for me did not come during a play; after much ado (basically me being too shy to agree to an introduction), Tim introduced me to Steve Jerve in the dugout, and I told him about the time he visited my elementary school and how all the kids thought he should get together with our librarian, Ms. Massey. He's about as nice a guy as they come and very gracefully handled the fact that I probably made him feel old--but I must have also made him feel somewhat flattered, because I know I acted like a giddy school girl in his presence. I can now check that off the old bucket list.

Here is an actual professional write-up of the event.

Nike Women's Half Marathon - DC

I signed up for this race months ago with my friend Kristin and her family and friends from PA/DE. The Nike Women's Marathon series (which they seem to have renamed Run Nike Women Series) recently added a couple of half marathons to the series, and this was the inaugural half marathon in Washington, DC. Registration was only open to those who were chosen from a drawing for eligibility. We entered as a group, and as luck would have it, our group got in! It was an exciting moment to receive the email notification--but a less exciting moment when I realized that my credit card would then be charged the exorbitant $160+ registration fee, but this was largely because of the Tiffany & Co. necklace awarded to finishers in place of a typical race medal. But it still meant a trip to DC, and because I didn't get to run the Marine Corps Marathon in DC last fall, I was looking forward to the redemption race.

I have mixed feelings about the overall event. The race itself was wonderful--scenic course, beautiful weather (high 50s/ low 60s), mostly flat with one bridge, and good organization. But the "expotique" was hugely disappointing. Because it was a Nike race, there were no other vendors at the expo, except the sponsors--Luna ("The Whole Nutrition Bar for Women"), Paul Mitchell, bareMinerals (of infomercial fame)--you know, girly stuff. Also, we had to wait in a long line to pick up our packets, outside, in the sun:

The line.

We survived the line.

And because I was with a shopping family (and I also wanted to pick up something for race day), we were "forced" to go to the Nike store in Georgetown, what felt like a mile from the expo. As could be expected, there were tons of race participants swarming the store, which made shopping unpleasant (for me, anyway). But I found a tank, stood in another long line to check out, and then went around the corner for some boba tea while I waited for the others :)

Outside the Nike store. Yep, that's my name.

After we returned to our hotel rooms, we relaxed for a bit and then ate an early dinner at the hotel restaurant. Because that restaurant didn't happen to be a Thai restaurant, I ate an untested meal before my race. I had a salad with salmon and a side of rice (which was rather an ordeal to get). But it seemed to agree with my stomach just fine.

After dinner, Kristin and I did some decompressing:

Then early to bed. As I was getting ready for bed, I noticed my Garmin was having trouble charging, as it is wont to do in its old age, so I messed with it for a bit, and also noticed that it was having trouble locating satellites. But it finally took a charge, so I got in bed.

Early in the morning, our group gathered and left the hotel, which was .7 miles away from the race start/finish area. Kristin's aunt Joyce got us there, thankfully, as nobody else was really prepared with directions.

We got into our designated corals, which were based on our predicted finishing times. For this race, I was as close to the start as I've ever been. Because it was mostly a women's race, there were no men to take up all the space in front :) So I only had about a 30-second delay from gun to chip start. Prior to the race start, we got to hear some encouraging words from Shalane Flanagan and Joan Benoit Samuelson, live and in person! I thought that was pretty cool.

Lots of ladies and "a few good men," as the announcer kept saying (it got old quickly).

As soon as I ran across the start line, I pushed "Start" on my Garmin and noticed right away that it was only keeping time; not distance, which meant that the satellites hadn't been located , and I wouldn't know my pace! I was so frustrated, but luckily I was in sight of the 2-hr pace group, so I stuck with them while I turned my watch off and back on and waited for satellites to be located. But of course, within the first half mile we ran through a long tunnel, which interrupted the satellite location, so I had to turn it off and back on again. I didn't get it properly working until about a mile in. This isn't a huge deal, except that I train by my watch, and I didn't really know my pace for that first mile. The pace group was supposed to be running 9:10 miles, but when I could finally see my pace, I saw that we were significantly under--about 8:37. But it didn't feel all that fast for me, so I went with it. I stuck with the pace group for a while, and then was afraid they'd "slow" to their 9:10 pace, and I wanted to keep up what I was running. So I pulled ahead a little bit.

I think this is the most scenic race course I've ever run. We passed by many of the historical monuments and ran along the Potomac River for most of the route.

The course.

Also, at several mile markers there were different percussion groups playing for us, and they were by far the best musical entertainment I've ever experienced at a race. Forget the Rock 'n' Roll series; I'll take these local cultural and school groups over the big-name artists any day.

Around mile 8, I was thinking that I felt great, but didn't really feel like I was "racing." But I was running well under what I'd aimed to, so I wasn't sure I should try to push the pace. But then I thought, a PR was pretty much guaranteed, short of any major mishaps, and this was my last big race for the season; why the hell shouldn't I push harder? So I did.

It was a PR by 6 whole minutes (and 3 seconds)! I was so overcome when I finished, but in that awkward, alone way, so I didn't know what to do with myself. I got my water, Luna bar, and eventually was presented with my necklace. I went to bag check and retrieved my bag, which contained my phone, and immediately messaged two people who I knew were tracking me and asked what my time was. I did actually look as I finished this time (which I usually forget to do), but I didn't know how far off the clock time was. My dad let me know that it was 1:53:30, chip time. I was ecstatic. But I couldn't express it by myself. So I cried a little bit. Somehow that seemed appropriate.

The greatly coveted prize.

As my smile indicates, I was very happy. I had so many wonderful text and Facebook messages from family and friends; these are also the things that get me choked up. Even though I was away from them all, I felt very special that they cared enough to follow my race. So, thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you.

Here are my final stats:



As someone who knows basic math told me, I'm pretty much in the top tenth percentile of overall and division. I'll take it!

Here are the stats from my Garmin, which are flawed in several ways, largely because of user errors:

The green Start symbol should actually be in the same place as the red Stop symbol, but because of the aforementioned malfunction, it is not. I also hit my "Lap" button too early (when I heard someone else's mile signal go off), which accounts for the divided mile in splits 4 and 5, and then we repeated the tunnel toward the end, which is why splits 11 and 12 got messed up. But the average pace should be mostly accurate, and that's a more than 30-second-per-mile improvement over my Gasparilla half. I really surprised myself.

As the others in my group finished, we all talked about how we performed better than we'd thought we would. It was a great race for everyone. We sat and watched some women line up to get post-race makeovers by race sponsor bareMinerals, somewhat in disbelief. This was one of the more ridiculous aspects of the women-targeted race.

Kristin and I got to relax for a bit in the hotel room before heading out for our respective flights. I was glad I got to experience the race with her and her mother, aunt, and friends. They made the trip even more enjoyable.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in airports, arriving in Tampa close to midnight. But I had the next day off of work so I could recuperate. Here's one way in which I did that:

Peanut butter and jelly cupcake from Gigi's. It was as if they knew I needed a reward and made the best flavor for that day.

I decided to do a couple more races before taking a break to heal up before summer marathon training: the Police Appreciate 10K this weekend in St. Pete, and the Miles for Moffitt 5-miler next weekend at USF. Then, I promise my body I will rest, reunite with my long-lost yoga practice, and perhaps get back on that road bike.

Tampa Bay Corporate 5K: A 3.36-mi PR!

Last night, with fairly warm temps and a present wind, I ran the inaugural Tampa Bay Corporate 5K. The race started and finished at Curtis Hixon Park in downtown Tampa. The race was put on by Mena Shaw Races, operated by co-race directors (and my friends) Benjamin Mena and Beth Shaw.

My overall takeaway from the night is that they put on a wonderful event. There was an issue with the course--it ended up being about a quarter mile long--and that might have kept me from PRing the 5K distance, but there's no real telling. Let's just say I was close at 3.1 miles. But one benefit of knowing the race directors is being able to get the back story on things like this, and it turns out the police or other city officials actually made them move the race start/finish about a quarter mile farther from where they had determined the correct start/finish point for 3.1 miles. These things happen, and it wasn't the race directors' fault. So what I can say is that I ran a PR for this very specific distance ;-)

Here's a pre-race group shot of the Live. Sweat. Sleep. Repeat. team, plus some gratuitous photo-bombers (myself included, as I technically ran for the Tampa Crossboot team):

We look so happy. Then we ran. And the course was what I would call semi-challenging. I realize others would not and did not think of it in this way. It was an out-and-back course with a bridge (which we ran over twice) and a lot of winding near the turnaround point. I've taken the already lovely course map and enhanced it even more:

I was doing all right until the return trip over the bridge, where I thought I could possibly be inducing a heart attack, and then I noticed at some point between the bridge and the turn onto Cass St. that my shoe was untied. I thought for about 20 ft. about letting it go; I only had about a half-mile left (or so I thought), and what were the chances of my tripping over my shoe lace for that distance? Well, I couldn't calculate my chances well enough because I don't know the stats on such a thing, so I decided to be safe and tie it. Have you ever been running full-throttle for more than two miles and then needed to (1) make a very sudden stop, (2) bend down to the ground, (3) do something using fine motor skills, and then (4) stand back up and try to get back your momentum? I think it's scientifically impossible. But I tried my best. And at the "probably 3.1" point on the map, I was gassed out. Once I saw that I wouldn't PR, it was hard to keep pushing myself. Until, that is, the very last push down the finishing chute, when a couple of guys running in next to me started to pull ahead and my body said, no way, and I found this extra store of energy to blow past them. I wonder how much I really had in there, and when I could have started using it . . .

Here are my numbers:

Not terrible, but my watch actually said my average pace was 7:59, which looks so much better to me than 8:00. And my classic error in 5K races is starting out too fast, which I obviously did here. I still need to learn how to run these things more efficiently.

But, the great news is that I'm on the first page of female finishers again! I'll take 36th place. It was a tough race, and I pushed hard for my time.

But the best part of the event was getting to see so many running friends out together in one beautiful place. The post-race party in Curtis Hixon was a lot of fun--with not only beer, but also wine! Finally, someone who understands my constant dilemma at post-race parties (thank, Ben!).

Beth and Ben put on an amazing race event, and I'll gladly register for any others they do!

Oldsmar Taphouse 5K--Another PR!

Almost two weeks ago now on a Friday evening, like late in the evening when I'm usually winding down for bed, I ran the Oldsmar Taphouse 5k. This year, local race director Fred Rzymek changed up this run (in its fifth year) by moving the date up and the time back--to 10pm--and adding a pajama party theme. Apparently this combo, plus the chilly temps, was a good recipe for a PR (25:16)! Perhaps wearing PJs in the cold is its own impetus for running faster, as my friend Nicole and I both finished together and ran our best 5K times!

Thanks, Gap Body, for the two PJ rompers. 

Nicole was getting fresh with me!

This almost never happens (I didn't have to scroll down or go to the next page of results!).

Here are our numbers. If we hadn't run over, we'd have probably come in under 25. But I can't do all that math.

The necessary group photo (I guess some people go to bed in bow ties). We all earned beer boots! And yet Nicole and I bought wine :/

The next 5K is tonight--the Tampa Bay Corporate 5K, and while I'm really hoping to PR officially (the beer run wasn't chip-timed), the conditions are not as ideal; i.e., it's hot and muggy out! But I'm still really looking forward to the race and festivities with friends. You, my small audience, will get to hear all about it.

Help Me Choose a Fall Marathon. Please.

The Choice
Marine Corps Marathon vs. Steamtown Marathon

The Pros and Cons
I missed Marine Corps last year because of an injury, and I really want a redemption race. I thought that signing up for the Nike Women's Half Marathon in DC next month might serve as a redemption race, but I'm not sure it will (although I'm still excited about the race!). Mainly, I'm afraid I'll always feel that I let myself down for that race. And then there's all of the to-do of Marine Corps that I keep hearing about: running through the historical landmarks, being encouraged by tons of local crowd-supporters, and being greeted by all of the Marines at the end (okay, that last one is the main draw). But that is both a pro and a con, because I don't like feeling stuck in large, overpopulated spaces. I don't think that would happen at nearly the same level at Steamtown, whch takes place in Scranton, PA (yes, of Office fame). Also, Steamtown is a net downhill race, which seems like a good idea at first, but running downhill for a long time can be taxing on a runner's legs, particularly the quads. And I've heard that Marine Corps is "hilly"; but not tons of hills, rather a few significant hills, like at the very start and end of the course! Here's a visual, for comparison (pictures help everything, right?):

MCM Elevation

Steamtown Elevation

I will say that I'm inspired by the triumphant-looking running figures in the Steamtown graphic. I just imagine the one runner with raised arms yelling "Weeeeee!" while running downhill. But perhaps I'm glorifying the image.

The Cost
This often helps me make a decision, but I could only find the cost for Marine Corps, which is $99. I don't think that's an unreasonable amount for that particular marathon at all; in fact, I think it's a pretty good price. Steamtown will likely cost a bit less than Marine Corps, if not  the same amount. But you also get a--shall I say--"different"experience for your money. So there's no help there.

The Friend Factor
I like to know I will have friends at a marathon--not only to share the experience with, but also to endure the training with. Granted, these two marathons are only two weeks apart (October 13 for Steamtown and October 27 for MCM), so I'll be training with friends regardless, but just on slightly different plans. Some folks in one of my local running groups are planning to run Steamtown, and although Scranton is notorious for being an uninteresting place to visit, I know I could have a good time with my friends. On the other hand, I know one friend in Maryland who is running Marine Corps (a former running friend from Tampa), and another large local running group (Run Tampa) is doing Marine Corps for their group marathon. But I don't run regularly with these folks; I would just know some familiar faces at the race, which still helps.

The Deadline
Marine Corps registration opens at noon on March 27, and will fill to capacity within a few hours, so I need to make my decision by then (Steamtown registration doesn't open until April 1). Any help?

It's Getting Hot Out There: Happy Spring Equinox?

Over two weeks ago, the time changed to Daylight Savings time, and today is the official marker of spring. These events are a herald of two things, in my mind: hotter days, slower times. While I just run my fastest half-marathon and my fastest five-miler to date, I know these successes were largely due to the colder, drier weather we've been having in Tampa. But as the last two evenings' runs have shown me, I'm going to have to start working harder if I want to keep my pace down.

Monday night's run was actually more positive than negative. I met up with the usual Monday night crowd at Flatwoods. I'd had a lazy weekend and didn't run at all (that was not my intention; I just kept oversleeping), so I felt I should be able to have a decent run that night. For this particular run, the guys usually stick together and run in a pack at the same pace, while the ladies sometimes partition off into couples, or maybe a small group, but almost always at a slower pace than the guys (we have some really fast guys). I just happened to be talking to one of the guys when we started running, and in an effort to continue our conversation, I kept running with him and the other guys, even as the separation of men and women occurred (this "separation" may sound sexist or old-fashioned, but it doesn't actually feel that way; it's a natural occurrence). I managed to stay with the guys for the first mile or so, which was the most I'd ever done with them, or tried to do. But as I felt them pick up the pace ever so slightly, I realized I'd need to fall back a bit if I wanted to do all six miles I had planned without burning myself out. Still, it was a nice feeling to hang with the faster crowd for a bit. And my run was not bad in the end; I maintained an 8:50 pace, which is a great training run pace for me. I just wish I'd

Yesterday's run was not so nice. I've recently been going back to the Tuesday evening Four Green Fields run, which was perfectly doable when 6:00 p.m. did not mean full sun on Bayshore. But with the time change, I'm not sure I'll keep attending that run, as the heat and sun add factors of difficulty I'm not sure I want to take on right now. I was going to run alone, until I saw a friend (one who introduced me to many of the running friends I have now, and one whom I first met at this particular pub run) sitting by himself and waiting to start the run. He was also planning to do four miles (the official route is 3.1 miles, or 5k), and he said he wasn't planning to go fast (granted, that meant something different to him than it did to me, as he is a much faster runner than I). So I asked if we could run together, and he agreed. As we started out, I felt like I could keep the pace we were doing (I didn't look at my watch, so I wasn't sure of our pace), until it felt arduous, which was within the first mile. When he asked me how the pace was, I told him, "I can't talk, but that's okay." Normal training runs (unless you're doing speed work) should be kept at a pace at which you're still able to converse with someone, so I knew I was pushing more than I normally would. But I really wanted to maintain my recent progress, so I just kept going. But I knew I'd need to stop at the 2-mile turnaround point to take a breather. I told my friend he could go on ahead, not wanting to hold him back, but he stuck with me and got me going again, but at a slower pace. It was mostly my breathing that felt more difficult (that and the feeling that I could fairly easily pass out). It was more labored than usual, and that's what usually gets to me in the hotter weather. But soon, it was my friend who would need to slow to a walk, as his IT band was bothering him, and I welcomed the break. We finished the run walking. I felt a little bit defeated, because I knew I wouldn't have been able to maintain our initial pace (about 8:45), even if we hadn't walked in.

I'm trying not to feel hopeless about the coming months of running. That may mean I need to start getting up in the mornings to run--something I will fight until I have no choice because I can no longer tolerate the evening sun runs. I also want to do track work this season. My mind is ambitious, but my body needs to catch up. Soon, I hope.

12th Annual Tampa Bay Lightning Bolt Run (5-miler): Hooray for PRs!

This morning I ran the Tampa Bay Lightning Bolt Run 5-miler. This is a smallish race that takes place in downtown Tampa, starting at the Tampa Bay Times Forum, home ice to the Tampa Bay Lightning (did I mention Tampa?). I ran this race last year for the first time, and I remember it well. I didn't have much of a time goal prior to the race, but when a runner friend asked me my goal, I decided to go for a 45-minute race. I came in at 44:59, and that was with a lot of help from another friend Lyle, who is also a Team in Training coach. I remember that it felt tough almost the whole time, my legs burned, and I wasn't sure I'd make my goal. So this morning, a little less than one year later, I only knew that I wanted to PR, which I was on target to do pace-wise since my recent Gasparilla victory (victory is a relative term, of course).

It was a cold morning (for Florida), in the low 50s, which is a perfect running temperature for me. I've been taking things pretty easy since Gasparilla, so I was feeling well-rested. I met up with some friends and watch the 5k runners take off, a half hour before the 5-mile race started. When I say this race is small, I mean that at 7:25am, five minutes prior to my race start, nobody was at the starting line. Finally, an announcer called for the 5-mile runners to line up, and then a small group--415 runners, a friend later told me--gathered, and almost immediately the horn blew. We were off, and I could feel that I was running faster than I could probably maintain (around 7:40), but I don't really know how to run shorter races as well as I do longer ones, so I mainly just tried to stop accelerating. I was also next a friend who I knew was a faster runner (faster than I had traditionally been, anyway), so I tried to just pace her for the first couple of miles. I gradually slowed into an average pace of 8:05, then 8:10, and eventually ended up with a final average pace of 8:14. So it was kind of backward from how I ran the half. But still; this was huge for me. I've never even run a 5k at that pace (I think my 5k PR is 26 min.).

One thing that pushed me in the last two miles was the presence of another runner on my tale. She was breathing in a way that really bothered me--it wasn't calm at all, and it ruffled my feathers a bit, so I just wanted to get away from her and maintain my steady, measured breathing. But I couldn't lose her easily, so the race became one between just the two of us. I would hear her on my heels, I would pull ahead, she'd get a jolt of energy and start breathing down my neck again, so I'd try to pull ahead, and the we got to the Platt St. Bridge, an incline, and although I usually do pretty well on inclines, she floored me, which angered me, so on the decline I blew past her. We finished out the race toggling that way, but she never quite passed me again. I even moved slightly into her path whenever I got ahead of her, so she'd have to run even further around me to pass. Is that wrong? I couldn't help myself. She chose to run so close to me, and I had to put up with her erratic breathing, so I think it was only fair.

Because of all that extra competitive effort, I was able to pull off a 41:09 race. At first I was upset and confused, because I thought the number I was trying to beat was 40 minutes, rather than 45 minutes (numbers aren't my forte). And I thought there was no way that happened, unless the course was long. And then I realized I was a whole five minutes off in my head, and I'd actually kicked ass, PRing by nearly four minutes.

2012 Bolt Run (5 miles): 44:59

2013 Bolt Run (5 miles): 41:09

(Amazingly, I didn't run over the mileage of this race; somehow I ran under!)

What's even cooler is that I placed eighth in my age (and gender) group! That's something I never even thought would happen. So I'm feeling very excited about running lately.

But that high was crushed just a little bit when I went to Saturday Yoga in Ybor a little while later and saw an instructor I hadn't seen in far too long. She gave me a hard time (jokingly, sort of) about not coming to her yoga class anymore. And I'd been feeling that guilt on my own, so it was only compounded when I saw her. It seems like I can only be truly dedicated to one thing at a time: running or yoga. And sometimes Crossboot fits in there, somewhere. But I'm enjoying my running accomplishments lately, and I'm still trying to fit in yoga when I can. I've just been going more to the free (or donation-based) classes or the relaxation-type classes. I don't feel the need to do everything hardcore all the time. Not right now, anyway. In fact, that's what I told her right before she started the class; I can't do it all. She hollered back, "Yes you can." We shall see.