St. Pete Run Fest 5k, 10k, Half Marathon, St.Petersburg, Florida

Oh muh goodness. And there WAS goodness, lots of it.

This week was an ‘off’ week for long runs in the training schedule for my 50k in January. I only needed 10 miles on Saturday and 10 miles on Sunday. So, give or take a few miles, this fit the bill nicely. I had signed up to run the weekend last year but ended up on a family cruise instead. I had to defer.

Saturday was cool and drizzly in St. Pete, but me and one of my favorite lunch ladies from school got rolling early to arrive with plenty of time to pick up bibs and shirts. Susan was completing her first 5k and wanted someone with some race experience to go along. Much of my weekday carb-loading comes for Susan’s heavy hand when plating up my mac and cheese. She’s got my back.

Since the 10k was first, the plan was for me to run that race and then join Susan at the 5k start. We’d start together and then after I finished, I would double back to see her during her last mile or so. I lined up for the 10K near the 10:00/min mile group and I was off. I fired up Runkeeper from my phone but decided to just go with the flow of runners around me. I didn’t really have any time expectations (just training miles this weekend, right?) so I didn’t look at my watch for updates too much. I also didn’t bring my headphones so there weren’t any audio updates either. I noticed that when I did look, my splits seemed way off, way too fast. After rounding a corner one time, my phone tried to tell me I was doing a 7 something mile pace. I’m like, no way, stupid GPS signal or something has this thing telling some serious lies. Pffh.

Somehow, even though I didn’t feel like I was running a faster race than my usual, I was. I crossed the finish line and my phone starting cheering with a little trophy, declaring my efforts as my fastest 10k. Well, hot diggity.

I collected my spiffy pineapple medal, an awesome Tervis cup full of water, and a small cup of Gatorade. Susan had been at the finish and came over to congratulate me. It was nice to have a friendly face at the finish line. Often I am solo when racing and running during training. I don’t mind being by myself for races, but every now and then it’s good to have a buddy.

Susan and I went back to my truck to drop off my sweet prizes and her stuff from check-in. She had to pick up her bib and shirt while I was out on the run because there weren’t any volunteers for that line earlier. I grabbed a few leftover bites of my buttered corn muffin breakfast and we headed back over to the start line for the 5k.

The conditions started off cloudy and cool and during the 10k race but began to deteriorate even further afterwards. The temps were beginning to drop and some misty rain was beginning to make itself known. As far as running goes, the weather was lovely.

We lined up for the 5k and rehashed our race plan. After national anthem number two, I took a few pics for Susan, wished her good luck, and we were off. Fresh off the high of my 10K PR, I decided that a similar strategy would work for the 5k. Go with the crowd, see what happens. Apparently, it was the day for PRs. I crossed the finish line to be greeted by more Runkeeper trophies, another cool medal, and a bottle filled with water.

I tossed back a cup of Gatorade and turned around to find Susan. I found her about a mile from the finish about where we estimated she’d be. We chatted and walked until we could see the finish line about a quarter mile away. I ran ahead up to the line so I could get some pictures for her. She crossed the line triumphantly and collected her treasures. High fives and hugs ensued.

So far, we’ve got two PRs for me, a first race finish for Susan, awesome medals, and cool souvenir cups. It’s about to get better. And when I mean get better, I mean get BETTER.

We roll out of the finish chute to find our free beers and pick up Carrabba’s. And Outback. Yes, you read that right. One of the race perks was hot, freshly grilled chicken and steak. The weather was dreary, windy, and getting colder by the minute but we were stuffing hot, grilled deliciousness into our faces. It was SO good.

The finish festival area was hoppin’ with people and stuff to do. There were benches, chairs, and even couches for seating scattered all over. Games for kids. Cornhole. Tents for massage, crafts, running gear. Music is playing. It was a great positive atmosphere despite the cold damp weather.

We polished off our grilled treats and decided it was too chilly without jackets to sit around much longer. We took our beers back to the truck where we sat in warmth before heading home. Day one complete.

I repeated the morning routine for day two, the only real change was not picking up Susan. I even ate the same breakfast of bacon and corn muffins. It was colder the second morning though, so I hesitantly opted for a long-sleeve shirt and brought along my obnoxious, popsicle-colored, Wal-Mart clearance rack fuzzy track suit. I freaking glow in this get up, able to be seen from miles away. I bought it on an impromptu fishing trip a few years back when I hadn’t brought enough warm clothes. It comes in handy.

Coming off the TWO PRs high from yesterday, I decided to see what I could do for the half-marathon. I doubted I could hold nearly a 9:00 pace for 13, but I also figured that if I couldn’t then I would just slow up and let it finish the way it would finish. These were training miles, riiiight?!? But what IF I could….that would be one epic weekend.

I hung out in the toasty truck until there were only 15 minutes left before the start. I loaded up my belt with phone, keys and a pack of Clif-Bloks then walked over to the start line. I wasn’t parked too far away since I’d gotten there so early. I enter the chute and start inching towards the 9:00 pace sign when I realized I forgot my bib in the truck! Annnnd about face, exit the chute, and RUN back! With 7 minutes before the start, I arrived once again at the chute. Guess that was a warm-up?

National anthem number three was sung and the race began. Today I definitely felt a bit more sluggish than the previous day. The 2-hour pacer was just 20 yards or so in front of me so I attempted to stay with him as long as I could. He seemed to be going out pretty fast but I thought maybe my estimate was just off. I’d clearly been wrong judging my pace the day before.

In just a mile and a half, I was already regretting my long-sleeve shirt choice. It was 54 degrees but I was sweating and the shirt was sticky and uncomfortable. My hands were even sweaty. What shirt IS this?!? No surprise, by mile 3, I took it off and ran in my sports bra. Did I tell you it was 54 degrees? And windy? I awkwardly tied it around my waist so the bib was in front and continued on. By now, the two-hour guy was well ahead of me. I will likely regret the race photos of this decision, but nevertheless, I was freed.

Around mile 6, my right hamstring started to tighten. It was as if I’d lost power, down a cylinder. I was Captain Kirk calling on Scotty for more power. “But I just cahn’t do et, cap’n!” I wasn’t in pain, but that leg would just not go at the same rate as the other one. I flipped through some songs on my headphones and tried to focus elsewhere.

The tightness stayed the same for the next few miles. I stopped briefly at a few aid stations for fluid but kept moving. By mile 11, I thought that the two-hour mark (by a very, very slim margin) might still be in reach. I attempted to pick up the pace a teeny bit. If at mile 12 nothing had changed with my leg, I would try to push a little more and see what I could do. I could not see the two-hour guy anymore but I still thought he had gone out too fast. At mile 12, I picked it up a little, then again at 12.5. I passed quite a few people and charged toward the finish. I could see on the clock it was already at 2 something, but I couldn’t tell the other numbers. I continued the push and crossed the line.

I didn’t make two hours, but I sure was close. That was my second fastest half-marathon finish, so I couldn’t be disappointed. I collected yet another nifty Tervis cup filled with water, my medal, a towel, an apple, two cookies, and more Gatorade before leaving the finish chute. Talk about race premiums! Remember I said there was a lot of goodness? It was about to get better. Again!

I went to the challenger tent to pick up my bonus medal for running all three races. It was by far the prettiest of them all. The turtle shell had a very cool finish. In addition to the extra medal, challenge finishers received a soft-sided mini cooler AND a six-pack of beer! The young guy behind the table gestured towards the stack of six-packs and said which kind do you want? He named off the types and I said the red ale would be fine. I couldn’t see the cans and I knew the red was not what I’d had the day before, so why not try it. He put it in the little cooler for me and I walked off.

I now had a handful of stuff and was getting cold from the sweat. I went back to the truck to drop all that off before eating and to grab my awesome popsicle suit. I decide to spread out the day’s haul on the hood for a picture, and wouldn't you know, the name of the beer was Rod Bender. It had a picture of a fish. Remember that bandaid on my forehead?

The Monday before, we were out of school for Veteran’s Day. Late that afternoon my husband and I went out fishing, hoping to be on the water for the sunset bite. We’d gotten bait and set up at the Skyway. I started catching a few small mangrove snapper, too little to keep, but the bite traffic was picking up. I then hook into something sizable and it bends my rod something awesome. We were anticipating some larger fish so I was using one of the bigger rods, something big enough to pull up a 15-18 pound fish. As I start reeling and pulling to get this frisky fish up to the boat, the line snaps. The rod flies back and hits me right across my brow. I didn't have on my hat or sunglasses since the sun was going down so there was nothing to break the blow. I stagger a bit, set the pole down and sit with my head down and hand over my eye. My husband asks me what’s wrong. I look up with my hand and eye covered in blood and a sizable cut. Our fishing day was over. My head ached for the next few days. But with some expert butterfly bandaging from my husband, I was able to avoid stitches and am almost completely healed up.

And so, the irony of inadvertently choosing a beer that was called Rod Bender had me laughing, quite literally, out loud in the parking garage after the race. I donned my fuzzy pants and headed back for round two of steak and chicken. I hung around the festival for a little while, explored the organic tent full of things I can’t pronounce or understand, and gifted my two free coffee tickets and last two free drink tickets to some spectators that were there supporting their runners.

It has been a great weekend and I have hauled home some serious goodies: two Tervis cups, a sports bottle, four medals, a soft-sided cooler and a six-pack of beer. And, not to forget, the three t-shirts, reusable grocery bag, and visor I got at packet pick-up! Plus, of course, I filled my belly with some tasty food and basked in the sweet satisfaction of some amazing race times (for little ol’ me, anyway). I don’t know if this event is always so awesome, but I’m pretty sure I will be signing up for next year.