5 in 1 blog: The #ROC, The Lizzie, The Y, The iPhone and The Birthday

Life has gotten a little crazy lately.

I've been splitting my time between Albany and Rochester. My Albany days are consumed by the drive, hitting the road before dawn, spending the night, then coming back around 9 or 10 p.m. the next day. On the road I've been playing the license plate game. I have six states left: Hawaii, West Virginia, Wyoming, South Carolina, North Dakota and Nevada.

While I'm in Rochester, every moment I'm not working, I'm cleaning, packing or running around town dealing with the logistics of the move.

I'm in Rochester through the weekend. Most everything is done now, so I can finally relax a bit.

As I'm shuttling back and forth, I've written a dozen blog posts in my head, only to find myself too exhausted when I get home to get them in type.

So here's a potpourri of sorts, little things that have been floating around in my head that I've been anxious to get down.

ON ROCHESTER

Rochester

(Cross posted from Capital New York's anticipations, coming out Friday)

After college, I lived in a series of small towns. Then one day I'm sitting at my desk in Newark, Ohio (somewhere between Columbus and I-77) when Len, a former editor and mentor, called me up and told me about an opportunity in Rochester, New York.

Rochester was my first experience in a bigger city, getting to be a young professional in a place with a culture of young professionals. I have loved living there: The unique neighborhoods, the culture, the recreation, the friends I've made. 

It's my last weekend in the Roc, and I have a long list of "lasts" I'd like to get in: Last run around the South Wedge and Park Avenue, last dog walk around Corn Hill, last trip to the public market, last drink at Tap and Mallet, last cup of loose leaf tea at Boulder Coffee Company.

I'm going to dodge weekend Pittsford traffic, where I'll give Rochester's beloved grocery chain Wegmans a sizable portion of my paycheck to stock up on some of their more unique goodies, have another eyes-bigger-than-stomach moment at the Food Bar and grab a couple cases of Finger Lakes vino from Century Pittsford Wines.

Dirt Cheap Stage Race report: Lingering in last place, running with the devil

Last weekend I participated in Fleet Feet Rochester's Dirt Cheap Stage Race, three races, two days, 19 miles. I took the races easy, with a combined time of 4:23:46.

Report on Stage 1.

Devil's Bathtub.

Stage #2: Devil's Bathtub

Stage #2 was a 5-mile (4.82 by my GPS) run around a landmark called Devil's Bathtub, a kettle hole. I finished in 1:08:43, and this involved a small but well-worth-it set back.

Allison had already given me one heart attack earlier that morning. As I snoozed in my car in our downtime, I had misread her texts and thought she was en route. I'm parked overlooking Devil's Bathtub at Mendon Ponds State Park. It's beautiful.

Several cars are parked next to me. We're all resting up.

The race starts at 1 p.m. Just before noon, I hear from a mildly panicked Allison. She's still tied up, hoping to break free soon, and still in Greece.

12:10 comes along. She's getting gas, she's coming!

12:15. I can't get ahold of her. I don't want to give up on her... but... I make a playlist. Just in case.

12:30. Ok, she forgot her ATM card, now she's really getting gas, she's finally coming. I GPS it, 40 minutes from Greece to Mendon.

"Step on it!" I tell her. "Drive like there's a pregnant woman in your backseat. Actually, no, drive like you're the pregnant woman! Traffic laws don't apply to you right now." (But do be safe.)

She curses the many grannies on Ridge Road.

"Allison, I don't know if you're going to make it."

"Oh I'm going to try!"

I love this girl.

But wait, isn't the race chip timed? I go up to a race official. "If we start ten minutes late, is it a big deal?" Yea, he said, it kind of is. "We pick up the flags after the last person."

So I hatch a brilliant scheme.

With Allison zooming down Clover Street, the race starts. I trot along at the back of the pack, Allison on the line. "Keep coming. I'll be that last person, and I'll go slow and speedy you can catch up."

(Another thing the old me would have hated.)

So I shuffle along, chatting on the phone as Allison is pulling in, trying to keep the person ahead of me in sight, but stay ahead of the guy coming up behind me, picking up the flag. I can just feel him looking at me. "Are you really being that person barely running and talking on her phone in a trail race?"

Yup.

After seven minutes, I'm a half-mile in and Allison is at the start. They don't know if she can find me, the trail was curvy and relatively easy to follow up until this point, but now we're in the woods. Dilemma. "Wait, I can see a mile marker from here, I'll just wait for you there!" Allison said.

Perfect.

"The guy here is probably thinking 'Are you really being that person jumping in mid race.' I should probably explain," she said.

Whatever. But wait! I'm in last place. I don't like being in last place! I step on the proverbial gas, pass a few people, and then there's a grinning Allison, standing with a volunteer one mile in. "We did it!" We're both laughing hysterically.

Me and Allison. We found each other!

The course is challenging, but easier than the first. The scenery is breathtaking. Allison, full of adrenaline from rushing to the race, keeps pulling ahead. I'm exhausted from the morning, and trying to keep Sunday's 11-miler in mind. We eventually find a rhythm.

Staircase to the finish. 

Allison and I, along with Tara, my Wine Glass buddy, Kim and Nupur all met on Facebook knowing two things about each other: We ran at about the same pace, and we all had fall marathons. We got to know each other in an online Facebook chat, conversations often drifting away from running.

This is just the third time Allison and I have gotten together. We ran once, before she did the Rochester Marathon and I met her at the finish line of her race. But in this new world order, we know each other well.

We caught up as we followed the flags, twisting and turning through the woods, then attacked the staircase to the finish.

"Great teamwork ladies" Ellen says as we cross.

I eat more than one hot dog, and we part ways.

I get home, stumble around the block with the dogs, then collapse to the tune of Arrested Development on Netflix.

I wake up hacking. This always happens to me, I cough excessively after the first cold-weather run of the year. I took some Sudafed, rested the rest of the evening, and woke up Sunday well-rested for Stage #3.

I don't know how Allison does all that she does. She worked all night, and has two children.

Part 3 will post at 9 a.m. Tuesday.

Dirt Cheap Stage Race series report: Adventures in Mendon Part 1

Exhausted selfie. The point is, I got the
coveted sweatshirt.

This weekend I ran 19 miles through the woods, split up over three races in Fleet Feet Rochester's Dirt Cheap Stage Race in Mendon.

Last year I did Stage #2, at Devil's Bathtub, billed as a 5.5 mile race but actually a little shorter. I was jealous of all the people who did all three and got the coveted sweatshirt. I vowed to come back.

Life being as crazy as it has been lately, though, there was a good chance I might have let this one fall through the cracks. Enter Allison. We decided to do this series long ago, before our marathons, and she kept reminding me. She had me on the hook, I couldn't back out.

I was by no means trained for a trail race. I've just run casually since the Wine Glass Marathon a month ago. I haven't done hill training in eons.

So I took it slow, walked all of the hills, Allison stuck with me in the last two stages (more on that saga, an adventure in itself, in Parts 2 and 3.) I finished the series with a combined time of 4:23:46.

This will be a 3-part blog. Stage 2 will post this afternoon, and Stage 3 Tuesday morning, then a special post on Wednesday.

STAGE 1: Time Trial

The first stage was a 3-mile hilly time trial Saturday morning, which I finished in 40:46.

The morning started with an adrenaline surge. Alarm went of. Hit snooze for ten minutes. Drifted away again. I wake up to the phone ringing. The caller ID says "Allison."

I immediately assumed it was a runner's first nightmare: I overslept and Allison was going to say "where on earth are you?" I relaxed when I saw it was still 7:30-something. The phone call wasn't good news, she had a family matter to attend to so she'd have to miss the first race. Bummer, but I'd still have her for the second two stages.

Took the dogs out. It wasn't that cold. Drove to Mendon. What a difference 20 minutes makes, burr, why didn't I bring gloves?

They lined us up, and we started one runner at a time, 5 seconds apart, I was #145, so I had about a 10 minute wait. In this time it started snowing oh so slightly. We started on a slight uphill grade, my legs hated me immediately.

When they said hilly, they meant hilly. These were some of the most treacherous, brutal climbs I've ever faced. I walked most of the inclines, some I couldn't have run if I tried. I laughed at my old self who might have forced myself to run the whole way. The light snowfall made the run absolutely beautiful.

The best volunteer ever stood at Mile 2. She cheered us on as we turned a corner and started to attack a giant hill. "This is a bad hill, it is not the last hill, and you are not almost there," she said.

The well-intentioned-yet-lying volunteers at Musselman constantly promising me that "this is the last hill" still haunt me. Gotta love the honest ones.

I clawed my way up the beast, which seemed never ending, and at the top was Boots, coowner of Fleet Feet. "This is a no standing zone" he says as I'm huffing and puffing my way to the top. I grin. "It's all downhill from here, right?" I say, repeating an oft-heard but rarely true phrase that comes from most volunteers.

"Nope. There's a little one, it doesn't last long."

"Thanks for being honest!!"

I slog my way through the remaining mile, then head back to the lodge for delicious Nutella and cashew butter. A chiropractor there adjusted my back, oh so good, then I got coffee and drove to Devil's Bathtub, the start of Race #2, put my headphones in and closed my eyes for a bit.

Updates on life: Getting used to Albany

Less than a month until yet another move.

This one is different from the others because I get to do it slowly instead of throwing everything on the cheapest moving truck I can find.

Being given the luxury of taking my time to find an apartment for me, Lizzie and Brandy, it was only natural that I had a total a-ha moment with the second apartment I walked into. I will be living in a brownstone near the intersection of State Street and Lark. The apartment is two blocks from work, in a wonderful neighborhood called Center Square. The place is close enough to the fun (which includes a wine store and a gluten free bakery in a very easy walking distance) and close enough to a few parks will be great for the dogs.

Home.

Though this is the second apartment I've had to give up a few luxuries. When I moved from Newark to Rochester, I had to give up quite a bit of space, in-unit laundry and a dishwasher. Now I'll be giving up off street parking and on-site laundry.

The excitement and challenges that lay ahead

Exciting news: I have accepted a job as a reporter with Capital New York, and am beginning the process of relocating to Albany.

The job offer happened so quick, amid an already crazy week, so it has just been in the past few days that I've been able to catch my breath and start to get really excited.

Capital New York is a startup project run by Politico, a publication that I've always admired and sought to work for. It's growing, it's profitable, and I agree with the direction the company is going in. 

After my layoff, I had my hesitations about staying in journalism. But there's one area of journalism that is staying strong: Publications with a niche audience. Politico has mastered the business model, one that is a hybrid model of free and paid content. The bigger stories are free, but the more specialized stories that you can only get from us are behind a pay wall.

My new colleagues are some of the best in the business, and I'm considering it an honor to have my byline next to theirs. 

I'll be covering campaign finance, ethics reforms and lobbying, all issues I am passionate about.

But it does mean another move. Another stop on Jessica's east coast and Midwest road show. And that was the hard part about taking this job.

Purple: College. Blue: Professional life. Yellow: Albany.

Post race recovery, and what's next for me

First, happy Ironman World Championships day. I'm excited to check in on the race, especially Jennie Hanson, from Rochester, who is competing.

It's been a relaxing week of laziness following the Wine Glass Marathon. I haven't run at all, and haven't done anything outside classes and dog walking.

I did cycling just two days after my race, and spent the class pedaling with no or little resistance on the bike. I think this really helped my recovery, allowing the blood to start flowing without impact or pressure.

Tomorrow I'm going to attempt a slow 3 or 4 miles followed by yoga and maybe a half hour swim.

Things will be changing for me. I have accepted a job in the Albany office with Capital New York, which has recently become an arm of Politico. More on that in coming days.

Race report: Wineglass Marathon, and running with Bart Yasso

Note: My tired brain is posting tonight, since the running buds want to read it. I'll clean it up tomorrow, fix the typos and add more links!

I went into today's race knowing it wouldn't be great. My training wasn't great to begin with, I had some burnout after my half ironman, caught a cold the week before then rolled my ankle last Wednesday.

I managed my expectations and set a reasonable goal and race strategy. Then, when the race strategy wasn't working out, I took a break, reassessed, and changed my plan to something that did work.

The goal was to beat my Flying Pig time of 5:21, and I ran the Wineglass Marathon today in 5:11:08. The race started in Bath and went to Corning. I'm proud, not because it was a PR (4:13) or anything close, but because I was realistic, resisted the temptation to try to do something I was once capable of, and ran smart.

I also found myself running side-by-side, and then getting career advice from none other than Bart Yasso, the Chief Running Officer of Runner's World magazine.

Me and Bart after the race.

There were beautiful fall colors, on a course that ran through a series of spectacular towns. At the end we got a wine glass (of course), a split of champagne and a HUGE medal made of glass.

The medal needs two hooks

A busy day of race prep: Wineglass Marathon tomorrow

The leaves haven't started to change in Rochester yet, but they are in full bloom an hour and a half south, between Bath and Corning, where I'll be running the Wineglass Marathon tomorrow.

This out-the-van-window photo does not do the scenery justice.

Shirt and number.

My running buddy Tara and I drove down to Corning this morning to pick up our race packets and check out the course. The Wineglass Marathon is a nationally reknowned race. It's also smaller field and sells out quickly. The course is beautiful. It is 26.2 miles point-to-point, and they shuttle you from the either the finish to the start or the start to the finish, depending on where you park.

Starting in Bath, we run through Savona, Campbell, Coopers Plains, Painted Post and then arrive on Market Street in Corning. It's all country roads, and is cumulatively downhill. All the uphills are very gentle. 

At the end, you get a wine glass (of course), champagne and a beautiful glass medal.