I'm running somewhere tomorrow. It's going to be beautiful. I can't wait.
If you are to go by motionbased, which exaggerates elevation change, then Monkey is about +/- 4200 ft.
Race directors lie. Most encourage you to think their marathon is flat. Some do the opposite. Never ever ever trust an elevation profile on a marathon's website. Ever.
Buy my wife's sea catchers
Strings, my friend, you will remember November.
For a long long time.
http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/activity/4468919 (This one only states 3700 feet)
Oh Mighty Wing
Also, pregnant people run marathons all the time.
It was a lame excuse Shan, but nice try
Dragon’s Race Report. Seriously.
I wasn’t going to post one of these. I really wasn’t. But then I thought it might amuse Tanya for a couple of minutes, so here we go.
Back in April, I thought it would be fun to sign up with three other girls for the Nike Women’s Marathon. There would be free manicures! Free foot massages! Free chocolate! And best of all, Tiffany finisher medals given to us by firefighters in tuxedos! The date was far enough in the future that it seemed reasonable enough.
I remained blissfully unworried until a couple of weeks ago, when a nice, caring friend gently suggested that I had better get my ass in gear if I wanted to cross that finish in less than six hours and thirty minutes. He pointed out that Nike would not inconvenience the good people of San Francisco for the entire day. Based on my most recent half marathon time, he predicted that I would be coming in just under the deadline. If I missed it, the Nike paddy wagon, not a handsome young San Francisco firefighter, would be picking me up. I got a little concerned, but not enough to do anything crazy like, you know, run.
We had perfect weather for race day: 55 degrees, overcast, no wind. The first 4 hours or so were fun. It was like being in a big estrogen-charged parade. But by about mile 20, I was bored. We had already gone past the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz, and were plodding around the surprisingly un-scenic Lake Merced. People who had been singing Whitesnake lyrics loudly and off-key at Mile 6 were no longer interested in entertaining me. On closer inspection, some of them appeared to be crying.
I began to see the value in following a structured training schedule. Not that I would ever do that, but I bet it makes the end of the race more fun.
Looking back, my biggest regret is that I missed the mylar blanket handout table at the end of the race. It got kinda cold waiting around for the shuttle back to Union Square.
P.S. I'm so completely screwed for the Monkey.
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away...(unkown) • Go With The Flow • Thyroid Support Group
I believe this one is the one you wanted.
I just figured I'd dig up that quote for ya.
Dragon - I noticed you've started your taper. Nice.
Thank you. I take that portion of the training very seriously.
Are you happy? Are you happy? ARE YOU HAPPY? There's no happy! THERE'S NO HAPPY IN RUNNING!
50,000 Miles Later
Good job Dragon, and go ahead and be happy...regardless of the circumstances.