Race #23

A picture paints a thousand words!

Got behind on my blog posting as my mother has come down with an unbelievable rash over her entire body, including in her mouth, and life for her has been pretty miserable since I got back from Wisconsin. My sister is here and we are hoping that soon they'll come up with a diagnosis, get the right treatment and be on the mend.
Hudson, WI is a quaint little town on the St. Croix river, right across from Minneapolis. The location worked well for me as I was able to not only bum a place to stay from my cousin Kris G. but she, and her friend Judy, gave up their Saturday morning to get me to the race on time! And serve as videographers.Judy and I before the race.

The race started at the local high school than basically ran downhill to the river. Therefore we were bused up to the race start for the opening ceremony. I didn't realize Kris was videoing me climbing on the bus like a kindergartner off to her first day of school. So I stood there waiting for her to take the picture - always the camera hog!

The race is held in memory of Monica Jensen who lost her life to melanoma. Before the race started they head of her foundation spoke then her son had everyone let go of the balloons we were holding. It was a neat sight to see, hundreds of balloons let lose in the sky.

For the most part the course was downhill. There was an uphill at the start and then another toward the end, but for the most part, it was downhill. And I love the downhill! Contrary to all the advice one reads on race management, I take full advantage of gravity. It paid off for me, I had a 9:05 at mile one in the cemetery and 18:55 at mile two. If I could maintain a 10 minute mile pace, I knew I could break 30. Giving the double armed wave at the end of the race wasn't the smartest move on my part. As soon as I got past I started sucking air just as I needed to come in for the big finish. It was great to be able to hear the announcer holler that we could still break thirty!

No, this isn't really Bob Dylan, but, this is the local ultramarathon man. I passed him just as we got out of the cemetery and heard him talking to the people around him about his racing. At first I thought he was blowing smoke but then realized he probably had run 80 marathons and dozens of ultras. Unbeknown to him, he ultimately ended up being my motivator during mile two. I wanted to beat the ultramarathon man!! And I did!