Everybody else has done their Shamrock post, I guess I should get mine done!
Especially since mine is the only one where Kim's breast takes center stage.
Which needs its own website, dontcha think?
So, the race.
It's done for another year. Ugh. This race was long and painful. The farthest I've run since the end of October, and I definitely wasn't ready for it. Particularly since I'd done something odd to my Achilles earlier in the week. During the race, it alternated between being very loose (which feels really ookey) and very stiff. But not painful. No, the pain was saved for my ankles and my ass. Julie and I stuck together for this race -- or I never would've finished, as she motivated me with visions of hot Marines and big ass bottle opener medals -- and ended up running at least two thirds of the main Terwilliger hill. Which was cool but promptly sprained my right butt cheek that proceeded to give me grief through the rest of the race. I also should've Gu'd that second time as I hit a wall around mile six that just would not go away.
But despite it all, and probably despite me and my whiny sprained ass and throbbing ankles, we came damn close to our A goal of 2:09. I ran my first Shamrock 15K in 2010 at 2:09:18 so we had decided our A goal would be 2:09. Last year sucked as I ran it in 2:17 and change; our B goal was 2:15. We both finished at 2:11:42. I think that's right on the seconds. If I had been in just slightly better conditioning, I know we would've met our A goal.
It was cold, it was wet. We got snowed on a smidge. There was an overwhelm of humanity. While I did like the course change in terms of the overall route, I DID NOT like that the 5K runners finished next to the 15K runners, and the bulk of them -- and there were an awfully lot of them -- finished exactly when we did. I couldn't breathe, I was worried I was going to hyperventilate or vomit or both, and there were hundreds of lunkhead 5Kers swarming our finish line area. So that you had about five feet of space across the finish line and then, wall of 5K humanity. Who all apparently didn't get the memo that you have to run the 15K to get the medal. It took us forever to find the people with the medals -- after that, they better have not run out of medals. And this medal was HUGE and heavy. Literally the size of my hand. Not just the palm. My hand.
Hanging out with friends. Seems like I'd just see the Fly Girl last month or something but there she was again! She went back to the expo with me so I could pick up my shirt -- a lovely long sleeve green this year that is very comfortable -- and we made the rounds. We scored a fabulous big gym bag from Lifewise Health that also had the Shamrock logo on it. Sadly, they were all out of the Camelback bottles they had been handing out earlier and we were too honest to go steal the big towels they were also giving away (you got a bag or a towel) until they were all out. Next year, less honesty.
We had time to kill after the expo since we were already on the same side of the river as our restaurant for dinner so we made our way over to the Lloyd Center Mall for pre-race traditional tots. We were also working out whether her boyfriend was really her boyfriend, plus why the dress code du jour seemed to be hooker in training for so many of the young girls at Lloyd Center. Wonder of wonders, we found a Titanic display table at Barnes and Noble where RR picked up a couple more Titanic books -- amazingly, she doesn't yet have them all -- and I decided on the 1,000 Places to See Before You Die in the U.S. and Canada book. Because I like checklists and goals.
We had a great dinner at Old Spaghetti Factory, now in its second year of being the pre-Shamrock dinner destination for all the cool girls. Mmm, cheesy bread and jumbo crab ravioli. (The ravioli was jumbo, pretty sure the crab was just average yet tasty.) We also had a nummy post-race breakfast at a mom and pop place near my house that may now also become a Shamrock tradition. Next time, we try the cake that is eight inches tall and has five layers of inch thick frosting.
And next year, I am making Shamrock my bitch. Sub-two for sure. Jules, are you with me? What am I saying, of course you are! And RR has already said she's coming back to the dark side. Viva las chiquitas!