<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:25:14.295-07:00</updated><category term='motivation'/><category term='inspired'/><category term='training'/><title type='text'>Just Run</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-410324796785760715</id><published>2007-06-11T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:26.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Part Deux</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Standard, hoo-boy am I long winded, get some snacks cause this couldn't possibly be more drawn out disclaimer.  And part one &lt;a href="http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/06/marathon-story-part-1-of-many.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3dm40PR9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/0x6YY6mXNOw/s1600-h/Start.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3dm40PR9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/0x6YY6mXNOw/s320/Start.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074956015272675282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Elite runners &amp; the running Elvises&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;The first few miles literally flew by.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was consciously holding back... so many warn of those who start off way too fast.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I knew that if I was conservative and got a nice slow, steady start, I’d go the distance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We passed by a group of our mentors and coaches for one last cheer, and we were off.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After about a mile we came across the first band.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I looked at Tony, and at about the same time, we said “THIS is awesome”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was everything I expected that the start would be:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;hopeful, exciting, comfortable.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Quite crowded, as you’d expect in the beginning, but it was manageable.  Asked Rebecca what our pace was (GPS watches are cool) way too many times. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My first few miles ticked off:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Mile 1:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:49&lt;br /&gt;Mile 2:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:20&lt;br /&gt;Mile 3:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:09&lt;br /&gt;Mile 4:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:01&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3Ymo0PR4I/AAAAAAAAACo/OkKvXtwTZQ0/s1600-h/Fan+Club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3Ymo0PR4I/AAAAAAAAACo/OkKvXtwTZQ0/s320/Fan+Club.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074950513419569026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey!  It's my fan club!  They're out there cheering for me somewhere!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;After about two or three miles, I maintained a steady pace while my teammate Tony and mentor Rebecca sped up a bit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A mental goodbye and I realized that I was on my own, and would be for a while.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed the first couple water stops (read:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;slippery chaos) and made the decision to just pass right through them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Also passed the first group of porta-potties and said a quick thank you prayer for our good fortune at the start.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cannot imagine &lt;i style=""&gt;waiting in line&lt;/i&gt; for a bathroom after just a couple miles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Might as well also point out that I saw literally hundreds of men taking care of business on the side of the road during the marathon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No shame, you men.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3dWo0PR8I/AAAAAAAAADI/6pAXPWCUZ3A/s1600-h/Media.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3dWo0PR8I/AAAAAAAAADI/6pAXPWCUZ3A/s320/Media.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074955736099801026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CMCSHA%7E1.000/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sure they're all waiting for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;At this point in the race we were running in and around downtown &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San Diego&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;... these were some of the most fun miles because your legs are fresh, the crowds are having a good time, there are so many bands, everyone is running and laughing... it was everything I thought a big marathon would be.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Started taking water at the water stops... got my first sinus rinsing of the day (it does take a bit of skill to drink on the run).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Took down Gu #1 (banana.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;yum).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The crowds were amazing. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I had my name on my shirt, and so many people were there for a “GO CAROLINE!” or a “GO TEAM!”... (All TnT runners wear purple singlets or shirts, so we stand out).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was feeling the love y’all.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The miles were ticking by so quickly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you asked me to point out on a map where we ran, I’d scratch my head and give a good “Hmmm.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sort of just followed the people in front of me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We turned and twisted and snaked through downtown and I was still feeling amazing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed my first running Elvis of the day (sidenote for future reference:  Sweaty white lycra = totally see-through.  Good to know.).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Saw some good signs... “Run Like U Stole It” is my favorite from this point.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3a7I0PR5I/AAAAAAAAACw/uJoxJ1CxV60/s1600-h/The+King.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3a7I0PR5I/AAAAAAAAACw/uJoxJ1CxV60/s320/The+King.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074953064630142866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;            &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The King.  Totally rockin it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 5:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:24 (mental note:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;slow your butt down Caroline)&lt;br /&gt;Mile 6:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:59&lt;br /&gt;Mile 7:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:01&lt;br /&gt;Mile 8:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:03&lt;br /&gt;Mile 9:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:45&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Right around Mile 10 it was time to get on the highway.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s a good three miles of the course that run North on Highway 163.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That stretch of 163 is long, lonely, and slanted. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I knew that this part of the race might be tough.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;People started to spread out and quiet down.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Spectators are few and far between, bands are scarce... it starts to be just you and the road.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was having a couple aches and pains... that same knee that’s been bothering me all season and the achilles on the same leg.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The hill wasn’t a problem (my personal thanks to Coach Topher and the town of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Prunedale&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; for all the hill work), but at just ten miles in, I still had a long ways to go.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;More guys being one with nature.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The guy with a giant back tattoo that I’d been following from the start pulled away from me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was having my doubts... struggling to relax into the pace and just trust that the training had prepared my body well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Confession Time:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All season I’ve learned to run without the iPod.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For many reasons, one primarily is safety.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve also found that running with music can be a little distracting at times.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That said, I had brought the Shuffle along with me as my emergency stash, just in case I needed a distraction during the race.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Granted, I would have thought that this would happen much later in the race, say miles 18+, but as I headed up the hill at Mile 10, the fear was creeping up, and there was only one thing to do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Folks, I dedicate mile 10 to Miss Britney Spears.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Britney, I don’t care if you are completely insane and in the midst of a really nasty fuzzy-growing-out hair stage... I still love ya girl.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s funny, but just a little bit of music got me through that moment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once we were off the highway, the crowd support was back, and I tucked that iPod away back into the sports bra.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Took down Gu #2 and I was flying high.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 10:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:55&lt;br /&gt;Mile 11:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:59&lt;br /&gt;Mile 12:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:02&lt;br /&gt;Mile 13:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:00&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3cK40PR6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/be8bJ6bi2LM/s1600-h/highway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3cK40PR6I/AAAAAAAAAC4/be8bJ6bi2LM/s320/highway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074954434724710306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Somewhere on the 163.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hit the halfway mark and saw our team manager Melissa who gave me a huge boost with her cheering.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed a group of walk mentors whose energy had been strong all morning... these wonderful women weren’t even walking the race, but they were up with us before the crack of dawn and stayed with us throughout the day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our team is incredible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was feeling so strong... all pains were gone, I was halfway there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Saw a sign “Thank You from a 73 Year Old Cancer Survivor, GO TEAM” and another one that said “I’m Here Because of You”.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;A good reminder of why I was doing this and of the many people that we were running in honor of.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would remember those signs for the rest of the day... it was that push allowing me to dig a little bit deeper.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 14:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:54&lt;br /&gt;Mile 15:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;10:47 (Pit stop #1)&lt;br /&gt;Mile 16:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:05&lt;br /&gt;Mile 17:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:35&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Somewhere around Mile 16 there was a shift for me... the race turned into a mental struggle more so than a physical one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’d been running at this point for about two and a half hours, and I still had TEN MILES to go.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s a long ways, and time to reach inside for some inspiration.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had not stopped for a walk break yet (save for the quick pit stop at 15) and knew that at Mile 17 I was supposed to take a salt packet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mile 16 was mighty long... I had a packet of Bloks in my right hand, was trying not to sweat into the salt packet in my left hand... just waiting on a water stop because the thought of salt with no water....&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;FINALLY got a big cup of water and walked for a bit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Made ALL the difference in the world.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt like a new woman.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed a sign:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Runners are Sexy”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was feeling anything BUT sexy at that point, but it was a nice gesture.  Also passed a (no longer running) Winnie the Pooh... poor guy looked like he was in desperate need of Hunny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CMCSHA%7E1.000/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CMCSHA%7E1.000/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 18:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:13&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3cqo0PR7I/AAAAAAAAADA/rAbMwpqWMKw/s1600-h/The+Flash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3cqo0PR7I/AAAAAAAAADA/rAbMwpqWMKw/s320/The+Flash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074954980185556914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Betcha didn't know the Flash was a marathoner, did you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;At this point we were winding through some residential areas... getting high fives from kids, passed a lady with a bowl of watermelon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Took some, without giving a thought to “hey, maybe you shouldn’t take random food from strangers on the street”, but heh... it was darn good watermelon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;More food from strangers when a guy had a big bowl of pretzels.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Also started to pass the guys offering ice cold beer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not one or two... but LOTS.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I couldn’t believe how many people were actually stopping to partake.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As you’re getting close to three hours of running, trust me, there is &lt;u&gt;nothing&lt;/u&gt; that sounds better than frosty beer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yet I kept going... asking more than one to “have one of those for me”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m sure they did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some UCLA boys ran past me doing some sort of Bruins cheer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Couldn’t fathom where on earth they got that energy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 19:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:10&lt;br /&gt;Mile 20:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;10:40 (Pit stop #2)&lt;br /&gt;Mile 21:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:22&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Things were starting to get a little dicey around Mile 20.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You leave the neighborhoods and hit a stretch of pretty desolate territory.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Forget bands... there just plain aint much to keep your attention.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sun is starting to peak out and it's getting a little warm.  At this point I wanted to do ANYTHING but run.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some random cheerleaders were handing out ice cold Vitamin Waters and I grabbed one and took a big swig.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Only then did I think... you know, this &lt;i style=""&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt; isn’t the best time to try something new.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Especially not something sickly sweet, but oh so cold.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tossed it to the side.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;People were starting to walk.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A LOT of people were starting to walk.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You could see people breaking down left and right.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was around Mile 21 that my body looked up at me and asked “Hey wait a minute.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Are we on fire?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Uhhh, no?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Well, is there someone chasing us with a sharp knife?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Nooo... don’t think so?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I should have seen it coming... I was hit with the worst stomachache... my entire digestive system was about up to here with the running thing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was A Problem as I still had five miles to go (that’s almost an hour of running!).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was not the time to break down.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stopped for a few minutes and had a pretty serious conversation with my stomach... gave her a stern “KNOCK IT OFF” and set out again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Oh, the things no one tells you about running a marathon...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 22:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;15:34&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;As you can imagine, once you stop running at this point, it’s nearly impossible to get going again, but I pushed through.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We finally hit Mile 22, which is a quick out and back with bands at either end.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were tons of TnT coaches at this point, and I was SO glad just to see non-running people again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I perked up, and realized that I was going to finish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Without a doubt, it might get a little tough, but I was going to finish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed a guy running barefoot but &lt;i style=""&gt;carrying his shoes&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m telling you, people get a little crazy after this many miles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  Questionable &lt;/span&gt;U2 cover band at 22.5, but their energy was fantastic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 23 had an incline as we went up and then over an overpass.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Still three miles to go... literally willing my body to Just. Keep. Running.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just. Keep. Running.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pulled out the contraband iPod one more time, and it stayed on for a couple miles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was just enough of a distraction to keep my mind busy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passed a waterstop with some little kids.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One asked if he could throw a cup of water on me and I can only imagine the daggers that must have shot out of my eyes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At mile 24 I hit a waterstop and luckily stopped to peek at what they handed me, cause it was most certainly NOT water.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some genius had poured Accelerade (read:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;yuck and guaranteed stomach issues) into the white water cups.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Aww no, I was NOT going to drink that.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Plus it was time for that final Gu, so I needed some darn water.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tossed it to the side and prayed that I could hold out till the next water stop.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Suddenly the heavens opened and I passed an angel handing out – oh, it was so good it gives me chills to type – ICE COLD BOTTLES OF WATER.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Had I thought my legs could handle it, I would have stopped and kissed her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Best Water Ever.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 23:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;10:02&lt;br /&gt;Mile 24:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:48&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3elI0PR-I/AAAAAAAAADY/b329fCS1BgA/s1600-h/fan+club2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3elI0PR-I/AAAAAAAAADY/b329fCS1BgA/s320/fan+club2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074957084719532002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The fan club... patiently waiting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 25.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Glorious, Wonderful, Beautiful Mile 25.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Def Leppard was Pouring Some Sugar on Me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a combination.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was SO close, and I remember thinking to myself that I can do ANYTHING for twenty more minutes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Crowds were getting strong again, and I put the iPod away for the last time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Adrenaline and that amazing crowd were going to pull me through.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Saw one of our team captains, Ben, and drew on his energy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was SO glad to see him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I knew that Topher and Rebecca would be somewhere near the end to help us in, and I started scanning the crowd, just waiting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That permagrin crept back onto my face.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 25:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;9:57&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I turned that last corner into the Marine Recruiting Depot and finally saw Topher and Rebecca.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have never been gladder to see anyone in my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Both hopped into step with me and suddenly I was chatty Cathy... I was fine, I’m gonna do this... all is well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rebecca headed back to catch Tony and Topher asked if he could run in with me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I remember telling him that I was fine, laughing that no matter what my time, I was about to get a PR (personal record), I think I told him that this had been one of the greatest things I’d ever done (a bit delirious maybe?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But happy).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He pointed to a big yellow building, and said “You’ve just gotta get to that building”.&lt;span style=""&gt;   This was such a mental boost to me... Topher, I can't thank you enough.  &lt;/span&gt;I remember picking up the pace, silently reminding my legs to keep doing the one in front of the other thing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think I came perilously close to stumbling a couple times (in true Caroline fashion, of course).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mile 26:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8:43&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We rounded the final bend of the course.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Screaming happy people lined the course.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hey, wait a second, those are &lt;i style=""&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; screaming happy people!!!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Krystal, Chris, Martha, Kari, &amp; Nicki... still toting those neon signs around.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wish I would have realized that they’d be taking my picture, cause I most certainly wouldn’t have done this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3fVo0PR_I/AAAAAAAAADg/KnSenOheco8/s1600-h/Marathon+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3fVo0PR_I/AAAAAAAAADg/KnSenOheco8/s320/Marathon+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074957917943187442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;... but I was SO happy to see them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You guys seriously Rock.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Topher turned to me at this point and asked me how much I had left... I remember giving him a good “OH YEAH” and taking off for the finish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He gave me a final push towards the mats and as I pumped a fist in the air, I crossed that line.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3gNY0PSAI/AAAAAAAAADo/och650eosxc/s1600-h/FINISH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3gNY0PSAI/AAAAAAAAADo/och650eosxc/s320/FINISH.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074958875720894466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Marathon&lt;/st1:place&gt;?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just rocked you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Part the Third:  The aftermath.  Stay tuned.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-410324796785760715?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/410324796785760715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=410324796785760715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/410324796785760715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/410324796785760715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/06/part-deux.html' title='Part Deux'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Rm3dm40PR9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/0x6YY6mXNOw/s72-c/Start.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-1827689908520405660</id><published>2007-06-07T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:28.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marathon Story, Part 1 of Many</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Perfunctory Warning: This is a long story. Actually a multi-part looooonnnnggggg story. A marathon length story if you will. (Sorry, that was bad.) If I were you I’d grab a cup of coffee and settle in. Consider yourself warned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiISo0PRwI/AAAAAAAAABo/-dllQOOL1JU/s1600-h/Jun+02+2007+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiISo0PRwI/AAAAAAAAABo/-dllQOOL1JU/s320/Jun+02+2007+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073454834008409858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I never thought I’d actually be able to say this, but HOT DAMN EVERYBODY...I ran a marathon!!!!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My marathon day began at 2:30.  I’m not even going to dignify 2:30 with “in the morning” because 2:30?  Is not “in the morning”.  It’s 2:30 in the middle of the damn night.  But I digress...  2:30 wake up call.  Eyes pop open and my first thought is “26 miles?  Really?”.  But I’m up, in the shower, thanking God that I’d followed everyone’s advice and laid out my complete outfit the day before.  There’s a reason they tell you to do that... it’s called Marathon Brain, and I was in its grips – no clear thoughts, just moving on autopilot and trying not to completely lose it.  People, I’ve done nervous my entire life... this was a whole other level of nervous.  Somehow I managed to pull myself together, gather up all of my gear, and get out the door.  Our team met in the hotel lobby at 3:30 in the middle of the damn night, and I actually found the collective nervous energy to be somewhat soothing.  We took a team photo, took down the first salt packets of the day (sounds good, huh?), exchanged anxious pats on the back and hugs, and got on the bus.  The bus that departed at 3:59 in the middle of the damn night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiHgY0PRvI/AAAAAAAAABg/a2LL2--xOhg/s1600-h/Jun+02+2007+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiHgY0PRvI/AAAAAAAAABg/a2LL2--xOhg/s320/Jun+02+2007+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073453970719983346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Picking up my race packet.  Also known as:  Before The Pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And... that girl to my left is giving me that "Girlfriend you are plain crazy" look.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In hindsight, I’ve done a good bit of moaning about how early we headed to the race, but I am so thoroughly glad that we did.  We were amongst the very first to arrive at the race start and this was awesome for a number of reasons... fresh porta-potties being the first to come to mind.  As you can imagine, put about 20,000 very hydrated marathon runners in one spot and the number of porta-potty visits per capita is kinda ridiculous.  The race start was incredibly organized, easy to navigate, and our team found a great spot to relax near the coffee.  Had my breakfast... whole wheat english muffins and peanut butter (I even brought the peanut butter from home because we were told “try nothing new on race day”. Overpacker + nervous runner = pb in your suitcase.) and a banana.  (Marathon Brain Moment:  asked my teammate Tony “hey, where did you get that banana?”  Ummm... gigantic sign reading “FRUIT” approximately seven feet away.  Brilliantly observant.)  It was still dark at this point and it was interesting to see how the nerves manifested differently for each of us.  My anxiety was focused solely on fiddling with my race number... where to pin it?  Shorts? Shirt?  Fold it down to make it smaller? Ok, think I got it now... nope, not quite perfect, let’s try that again.  Oooh, I’m kinda crooked, nope that’s too low, uh-oh, can’t cover up my name on my shirt, nope not folded quite straight...  I was even starting to annoy myself by this time.  Finally got that settled, then the porta-potty visits became more and more frequent.. am I too hydrated, not enough?  Should I have coffee?  More water?  It was a little maddening that I just couldn’t sit still and relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finally, it’s about 5:30 am... the starting area is getting more crowded, time to check our gear bags with UPS (UPS is awesome.  What can brown do for you?  Well at the Rock ‘n Roll Marathon, brown will take your gigantic gear bag, and transport it to the finish line where you can easily and efficiently pick it back up.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiIoo0PRxI/AAAAAAAAABw/3UG67xPG634/s1600-h/RnR+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiIoo0PRxI/AAAAAAAAABw/3UG67xPG634/s320/RnR+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073455211965531922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Even bad coffee tastes amazing at 4 O'Dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ok.  A word on the gear bag.  Those of you who have had the pleasure of traveling with me know that I like to have options when I travel.  I like to be prepared.  Hi, my name is Caroline, and I suck at packing light.  The gear bag was no different.  Suddenly sprout extra feet?  No worries... I got six pairs of running socks. Shoelaces not matching your outfit?  I've got you covered.  Need a little cream in your coffee?  You get the idea.  I had it all, and then some.  So I lugged the thing over to UPS, and handed it over to the nice volunteer who probably laughed when I said “Please don’t lose this.”  Yup.  I am that girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiJOI0PRyI/AAAAAAAAAB4/RGvOZ16HNA8/s1600-h/RnR+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiJOI0PRyI/AAAAAAAAAB4/RGvOZ16HNA8/s320/RnR+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073455856210626338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, you two ready down there?  Also pictured:  Gigantic Bag O'Stuff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was around this time that my cheering section showed up.  My best friend Krystal, her husband Chris, and her mom Martha all arrived with “Go Caroline” shirts and neon posters in tow.  God how I love those three.  I didn’t realize just how emotionally fragile I was at that point; the warm hugs and reassurances were so needed.  Good timing, Krys.  Like always.  I needed you, and there you were.  You guys gave me the boost I needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiJs40PRzI/AAAAAAAAACA/mao00Mf790Q/s1600-h/RnR+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiJs40PRzI/AAAAAAAAACA/mao00Mf790Q/s320/RnR+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073456384491603762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Still dark.  But there are snacks to be had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And check out how empty that other runner's bag is.  Bet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;she forgot something.  Poor girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Our team gathered for one more pep talk, a reminder of our Team In Training honorees, all those people we were running in honor of, some singing (we sang, right?  This part’s a little fuzzy for me.), and then we did some warming up.  You figure we’d be saving every step for the actual marathon, but the warmup got things moving, burned off a little nervous energy, and gave us something to do rather than fidget and think about how long those porta-potty lines were getting.  And they were getting rather cumbersome.  After warmups it was about 5:50... race start at 6:30, so we said goodbye to Topher (our TnT coach), hopped in the enormous line and sent “Pee Fast” vibes to all of those in front of us.  While in line, we:  watched Marines playing the US Marines Hymn, sang the Star Spangled Banner, saw lots of running Elvises (Elvi?) heading for the start, and tried to stay calm.  Someone was smiling down on us because we were at the front of the line at 6:23.  I remember this distinctly.  PERFECT timing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiKYo0PR0I/AAAAAAAAACI/Sz6Ubbpz-dk/s1600-h/Porta+Line.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiKYo0PR0I/AAAAAAAAACI/Sz6Ubbpz-dk/s320/Porta+Line.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073457136110880578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In line at the porta-potties.  Still dark.  Boy, by the looks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;of me, you'd think this might be an "after marathon" picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We jumped into the nearest corral (runners are grouped into the starting line by corral, based on your expected finish time.  This is done so the fast people are at the front, and slower as your get further back.  There were 23 corrals – we started in #9, based on a projected finish time of between 4 hours and 4:15.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Ha... I think I warned you about the length of this.  We’re actually getting to the part where I run now.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The five minutes before the gun were stunning.  Possibly one of the best moments of the day.  The anticipation, the giddy excitement... I was hydrated, fueled, ready to run smart, had my gear situated, shoes tied just so... I was READY.  There were four of us together at the start... two teammates and one of our TnT mentors, Rebecca.  (Rebecca, I’m thanking my lucky stars for you because your experience and reassurance helped me hold it together for the first few miles, and especially in those final moments before the start.)  Aaaannnd.... the gun!  Went Off!  The Marathon Has Started!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But... ummm... we didn't move.   Well, we sort of nudged forward, but there was not much fowardness happening. After a few seconds the crowd began moving towards the start... it took us about three minutes to actually reach the start line, and as we crossed those mats and the huge balloon arch, I broke into a run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was running a marathon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiU5I0PR3I/AAAAAAAAACg/dVH9M0QOLF4/s1600-h/10th+Annual+RnR+Marathon+Start2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiU5I0PR3I/AAAAAAAAACg/dVH9M0QOLF4/s320/10th+Annual+RnR+Marathon+Start2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073468689572906866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Upcoming in Part 2:  The real fun begins.  Featuring:  Nudity.  Alcohol. and Britney Spears.  (All during the race too.  Get excited.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-1827689908520405660?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/1827689908520405660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=1827689908520405660' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/1827689908520405660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/1827689908520405660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/06/marathon-story-part-1-of-many.html' title='Marathon Story, Part 1 of Many'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmiISo0PRwI/AAAAAAAAABo/-dllQOOL1JU/s72-c/Jun+02+2007+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-7963335970333966194</id><published>2007-06-07T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T10:07:22.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So achingly appropriate...</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="trebuchet ms"&gt;I am working on the marathon saga... I promise details are forthcoming.  In the meantime, this is exactly how it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m-hCuYjvw2I"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m-hCuYjvw2I" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-7963335970333966194?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/7963335970333966194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=7963335970333966194' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/7963335970333966194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/7963335970333966194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/06/so-achingly-appropriate.html' title='So achingly appropriate...'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-3575941965072109674</id><published>2007-06-03T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:28.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It was a good day to run...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;...Wide open down a two-lane highway &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's about time that some things went my way &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Throwing troubles out to the wind &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And prayin' that they never catch up again &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm gonna say my worryin' days are done &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This looks like a good day to run....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived.  It hurt.  But I loved every second of it (alright, that's a lie.  I loved MOST seconds of it).  Came in around 4 hours 8 minutes.  I will post all the gory details here soon.  Stay tuned!!!  So much love to all of you for the amazing support!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmJFIpWetuI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zi6IAN98glQ/s1600-h/Jun+02+2007+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071692145214011106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmJFIpWetuI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zi6IAN98glQ/s320/Jun+02+2007+015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-3575941965072109674?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/3575941965072109674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=3575941965072109674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/3575941965072109674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/3575941965072109674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-was-good-day-to-run.html' title='It was a good day to run...'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RmJFIpWetuI/AAAAAAAAABY/Zi6IAN98glQ/s72-c/Jun+02+2007+015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-5767447398663899589</id><published>2007-05-01T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:28.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Sur Marathon</title><content type='html'>A couple Sundays ago I had the opportunity to volunteer for the 22nd presentation of the Big Sur Marathon.  It was a fantastic preview and a "behind the scenes" look at what it takes to fully support those &lt;del&gt;crazy&lt;/del&gt; brave souls who are actually running the 26.2 mile course.  I was excited to join the team working the mile 23 water stop, offering water, gatorade, oranges, bananas, lots of encouragement, and Free Hugs!  We started at 6:15 am, filling cups, cutting fruit, waiting for runners to help, and didn't stop till nearly 1 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RkUPpDN7fbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/FG3_eKYI31k/s1600-h/Apr+29+2007+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RkUPpDN7fbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/FG3_eKYI31k/s320/Apr+29+2007+027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063470553960775090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a quick smattering of what I saw in those seven short hours:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Bleeding Nipples.  Many pairs.  (I will leave it at that.  Ask a male distance runner should you really need more details.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Barefoot (yes, you read that correctly), I repeat &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Barefoot&lt;/span&gt; runners. (Yes.  Plural.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Both the men's and women's marathon winners.  AMAZING.  FAST.  When the men's winner (a local!  From Santa Cruz!) passed by, we were all in awe.. he didn't even look like he'd broken a sweat, and at 23 miles in, he was SEVEN minutes ahead of the next runner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*An old friend from college.  A lovely girl (lives in TEXAS) that I have not seen or spoken to in at least five years... she happened to be running Big Sur (her first marathon!  Go Rebecca!) and had her wits about her (after 23 miles!) enough to a) recognize me, b) stop to say hello, and c) give me her email address.  What a small world we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Thousands of truly grateful marathoners.  I got so many "thanks for being here", "thank you for volunteering", when we were really there to support &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;.  I swear, if I'm physically able, I'll thank every water stop volunteer who hands me something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Inspiration everywhere you turned.  Determined men and women, of every age, every weight, and every shape pushing themselves towards their goal, up and down those Big Sur Hills.  My fellow volunteers (and TnT teammates) often looked at each other and said:  "They can all do this.  We can totally do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing the amount of work that it took for just ONE waterstop at the marathon - the amount of effort that must go into putting on a large city marathon - like San Diego - is just mind-boggling.  And so much of that effort is truly volunteer.  Runners helping runners.  My big day is just three weeks away.... watching 4,000 people take on such a challenging course has raised the excitement level for me... one more long run to go tomorrow, and then it's time to taper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RkUPgjN7faI/AAAAAAAAABI/3z4b8ms8kcA/s1600-h/Apr+29+2007+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RkUPgjN7faI/AAAAAAAAABI/3z4b8ms8kcA/s320/Apr+29+2007+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063470407931887010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-5767447398663899589?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/5767447398663899589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=5767447398663899589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/5767447398663899589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/5767447398663899589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-sur-marathon.html' title='Big Sur Marathon'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RkUPpDN7fbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/FG3_eKYI31k/s72-c/Apr+29+2007+027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-4018578548174230046</id><published>2007-04-30T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T14:09:12.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4.28.07:  The Lowdown</title><content type='html'>Miles run:  20!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amount of time if took for me to run 20! miles:  3 hours, 17 minutes, 53 seconds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximate number of steps I took to run 20! miles:  Somewhere in the neighborhood of 16,000&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of stops for water, snacks, and encouragement from teammates:  5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of salt packets consumed:  1.  Ick.  (Note:  Salt is much more enjoyable when paired with french fries and/or tequila.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of times I thought I might die:  None!  Zero!  Zip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of very sore knees the next day:  2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of very sore muscles following the 20 mile run:  There are about 640 muscles in the human body... so, ummm... that many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of times I uttered the phrase "I cannot believe I'm running 20 miles":  At least 147&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of cruise ship passengers crowding the trail in Monterey on Saturday:  About eleventy thousand.  Roughly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of near collisions due to very crowded rec trail:  Too many to count&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quantity of food consumed following 20 mile run:  Probably enough to feed a small African village&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total "Caroline moment" during 20 mile run:  Nearly faceplanting into a mound of iceplant.  I am the personification of gracefulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours of sleep required to return to human-like state after 20 mile run:  About three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number of times (before this weekend) that I'd thought I could ever run 20 miles:  NEVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mindset following 20 mile run:  Unabashedly, wildly proud of myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-4018578548174230046?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/4018578548174230046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=4018578548174230046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/4018578548174230046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/4018578548174230046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/04/42807-lowdown.html' title='4.28.07:  The Lowdown'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-2782561317203680976</id><published>2007-04-23T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sidenote.</title><content type='html'>Should you ever be in need, these are completely remarkable:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/CMCSHA%7E1.000/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Ri1KXTlecWI/AAAAAAAAABA/BuuV4jZciGA/s1600-h/bandaid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Ri1KXTlecWI/AAAAAAAAABA/BuuV4jZciGA/s320/bandaid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056779720861839714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you don't even want to know&lt;/span&gt; what kind of shape my feet are in, but I can personally attest to the awesomeness of this product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-2782561317203680976?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/2782561317203680976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=2782561317203680976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2782561317203680976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2782561317203680976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/04/sidenote.html' title='Sidenote.'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/Ri1KXTlecWI/AAAAAAAAABA/BuuV4jZciGA/s72-c/bandaid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-1712686513875227837</id><published>2007-04-23T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T10:39:57.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain is Inevitable.  Suffering is Optional.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It would have been foolhardy to think that I would get through this whole training without any aches and pains.  The running seems to have been a little rough on the old knees - as you can imagine, with long miles your legs take a bit of a beating.  Last week it came to a head and my knee told me, in no uncertain terms:  "Lady, you're crazy.  Enough with the running."  My coach gave me the go-ahead to rest up on Saturday - a much needed day off to relax.  We've worked our way up in the miles - this weekend was supposed to be 18 - but there was truly no way I could have done it.  I've been hobbling around like a little 'ol lady for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday (Sunday) I went out for ten easy miles* along the coast in Monterey.  It was a beautiful day, and even though my knee was aching, it wasn't so bad that I had to stop. The morning rain had given way to a perfectly sunny and warm day, and after the run was finished I waded into the ocean and soaked for a few minutes.  (ICY cold at first, but downright pleasant once your legs go numb.)  Such a perfect day and I could help but think that (even with an achy knee), I'm so incredibly lucky to have the physical ability to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Saturday I'm in totally uncharted territory.  (Cue the foreboding music.)  I'm going to be shooting for TWENTY MILES.  I don't even like to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drive&lt;/span&gt; twenty miles.  My strategy for the long runs so far has been to just deal with it in small chunks... we typically have water stops every 3-4 miles on the coached runs, so I figure that if I can just make it from stop to stop, I'll get through it.  So please send all your good thoughts my way this week... I'm absolutely terrified for Saturday.  I need my knee to hold out for just a few more weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I couldn't help but laugh as I set out to casually run ten miles yesterday.  I remember when ten miles was SOOOO FAAAARRR, and now it's just an easy jaunt.  It's amazing how your mindset can change, and how heading out to run for an hour and a half atually sounds rather fun and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;relaxing&lt;/span&gt;.  This is proof.  Proof that every single one of you reading this can do it too.  We started off with just three miles our first Saturday.  Unbelievable what the human body and mind can adapt to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-1712686513875227837?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/1712686513875227837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=1712686513875227837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/1712686513875227837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/1712686513875227837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/04/pain-is-inevitable-suffering-is.html' title='Pain is Inevitable.  Suffering is Optional.'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-6082421998610918783</id><published>2007-04-20T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Verse, Same as the First</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RikmgDlecVI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tHpmYjQUMrM/s1600-h/Ouchy+Knee+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RikmgDlecVI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tHpmYjQUMrM/s320/Ouchy+Knee+012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055614388860252498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To say I may be a little exasperated by this situation would be putting it lightly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minor setback.  To be updated soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-6082421998610918783?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/6082421998610918783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=6082421998610918783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/6082421998610918783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/6082421998610918783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/04/second-verse-same-as-first.html' title='Second Verse, Same as the First'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RikmgDlecVI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tHpmYjQUMrM/s72-c/Ouchy+Knee+012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-760567970943373777</id><published>2007-04-09T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T08:10:48.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gremlin, I shall name thee Morty.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You've all been asking how I'm feeling, how training is going, how many miles I'm up to, etc.  And of course I'd respond with my standard "Lovely!  Fabulous!  Terrific! Stupendous!".  I've been wondering how many of you actually believe me.  But seriously, everything has been great.  It's like a bad movie, where it's all just going a little bit &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too well&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was bound to happen.  That really ugly and painful day where I might start to crack.  So 16 miles.  A nasty little bunch.  Actually, the first few were pretty enjoyable- we started in Marina and ran to Sand City (have you ever wondered where that trail along Hwy. 1 goes?  Yeah, me too.)  We had a good pace going - probably a little too strong - but I was feeling good, so why not?  Umm... yeah.  So after we turned around in Sand City and headed back, I realized that the reason I probably felt so strong on the way out was that a good portion of miles 1-8 were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;downhill&lt;/span&gt;.  Which means that a good portion of 8-16 were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;uphill.&lt;/span&gt;  Nothing steep, just enough of a grade to make you notice.  I was still going... through mile 14 I just kept at it, maintain a steady pace, stop to hydrate &amp; eat, just keep going....  And then at mile 14 something hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago our coach was talking about the &lt;a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-243-332--8137-0,00.html"&gt;Gremlin &lt;/a&gt;- that little voice in your head that tells you to just give it up, this is too hard, you've come far enough...  Well my Gremlin is alive and well, and happened to catch me at the end of Saturday's run.  I carried that ugly little guy on my shoulders for two miles.  The longest two miles that I've run in a good long while.  It took every ounce of willpower, sheer force, and determination that I had to finish the run.  I won't even describe those last two miles as running - actually more of a shuffle.  Or plodding.  Definitely not running.  With one mile to go, I was at the Marina State Beach.  Stopped for a quick drink of water at the fountain and actually contemplated just lying down on the ground for a nap.  Or to die.  Whichever might happen first.  But I continued.  One step after the next, and finally got back to the finish.  And I keep telling you all how good it feels to stop after a long run... well - for some reason stopping on Saturday HURT.  Every muscle, every bone, even my skin, hair, fingernails... they all were very very angry.  And what was I thinking???  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The marathon is TEN MILES LONGER THAN THIS&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You'll never make it.&lt;/span&gt;  Oh that Gremlin.  He's sneaky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was two days ago.  And two days later, I feel fine.  I actually recovered pretty quickly - a sandwich and a nap and I was pretty much back to normal.  In the aftermath, I know that I probably started off too strongly, which didn't help in the end.  And I did not get nearly enough sleep last week.  And was just a wee bit too sure of myself.  Probably lots of things contributed, but what's important is that I made it.  And I'll do it again next Saturday - nobody ever said this would be easy.  16 miles is the longest distance I've ever finished, so I have plenty to be happy about.  This is more than training my body - its about training my mind too.  But seriously, to quote one of my teammates... "holy crap." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-760567970943373777?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/760567970943373777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=760567970943373777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/760567970943373777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/760567970943373777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/04/gremlin-i-shall-name-thee-morty.html' title='Gremlin, I shall name thee Morty.'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-2359030804994387371</id><published>2007-03-30T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T14:54:23.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anybody home?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(I have been doing a pretty crummy job of keeping you all updated here... will definitely try to improve upon that.  Short story:  still training, it's going swimmingly, feeling great, marathon's still a go.  But now onto the really important stuff...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've found that its unbelievable how many people have reached out and offered their support to me in this process... both from their hearts and their pockets.  I have raised over $2,300 for the Leukemia &amp; Lymphoma Society thus far!  It's amazing!  So, from the bottom of my heart, thanks to everyone who has lended their support.  Knowing that there are so many of you out there who are rooting for me gets me out on the road on those days when I'd really rather do just about anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to donate, there's a handy little button right over there in the sidebar.  Know that every single penny not only helps me to reach my goal, but benefits the lives of so many who are living with one of the blood cancers.   (Visit the &lt;a href="http://www.leukemia-lymphoma.org/hm_lls"&gt;Leukemia &amp;amp; Lymphoma Society's website&lt;/a&gt; for more info on the amazing work that they are doing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-2359030804994387371?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/feeds/2359030804994387371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3258332755993383808&amp;postID=2359030804994387371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2359030804994387371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2359030804994387371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/03/anybody-home.html' title='Anybody home?'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-517243015210600029</id><published>2007-03-21T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ups and Downs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's been an off week for my running.  Saturday, as usual, got started with a nice long run.  It took about 30 minutes to get into my groove, but from there I cruised right along.  There was some confusion as to the route so I ended up going farther than we were supposed to, and ended up at around 13 miles.  I think my knees knew that we'd gone too far, as they were rather vocal in their hatred of me in the last mile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Did I mention that I had a 12:30 flight to catch that day?  Yes.... so finish running, little bit of stretching, race back home, 10 minute soak in my parents' pool (which during this time of year, qualifies as an ice bath), then its racing against the clock to get back to the airport.  I swear I set a landspeed record in getting myself ready.  Out the door, in the car, and on the way back to Monterey by 11.  Perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Sidenote:  Driving back through Sand City, I saw Patti and Michelle from our walk team finishing up their mileage... those walkers have some incredible endurance!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So lesson for the day:  If you ever have a really strenuous workout, getting on a cross-country flight is not the way you want to spend the rest of the day.  Trust me.  By the time I arrived in DC, my knees were screaming and it was all I could do to lug my bags to the taxi.  The taxi that dropped our group off at the wrong hotel.  At 11 pm.  Oh, it had been a good day.  A picture's worth a thousand words, so here is how I spent St. Patrick's Day, in Washington DC:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RgKHMcfq-5I/AAAAAAAAAAs/Tpwcwz8Dm40/s1600-h/DSC_0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 148px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RgKHMcfq-5I/AAAAAAAAAAs/Tpwcwz8Dm40/s320/DSC_0059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044743180485589906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thrilling Saturday night, no?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm finally back home after a whirlwind four days in DC... this was the last trip for a while so it will be nice to settle down and focus on the training.  Traveling can really mess with the schedule, and this week has been no exception.  The knees are FINALLY feeling better... got a couple miles and some yoga in last night - today the schedule calls for 6-8 miles so I'll head to the coast and hope for the best.  Gotta get back on that horse sometime, no matter how rough the past few days have been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-517243015210600029?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/517243015210600029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/517243015210600029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/03/ups-and-downs.html' title='Ups and Downs'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RgKHMcfq-5I/AAAAAAAAAAs/Tpwcwz8Dm40/s72-c/DSC_0059.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-8462012604138584095</id><published>2007-03-12T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who knew Carmel was hilly?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"... I've got to get to the top of the hill..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; - Last words of John Pierpont Morgan (1913)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dt class="quote"&gt;So the next time any of you drive down Ocean Ave in Carmel, please think about running UP it.  Twice.  Good training run on Saturday (12 miles in Carmel - gorgeous weather), but the hill at the end was rather interesting.  I made it (thank you Rebecca for the great encouragement).  I had my own little Rocky moment at the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfVqlgFFeiI/AAAAAAAAAAk/cnjVGBXjq94/s1600-h/sylvester-rocky.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfVqlgFFeiI/AAAAAAAAAAk/cnjVGBXjq94/s320/sylvester-rocky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041052550410107426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-8462012604138584095?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/8462012604138584095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/8462012604138584095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/03/who-knew-carmel-was-hilly.html' title='Who knew Carmel was hilly?'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfVqlgFFeiI/AAAAAAAAAAk/cnjVGBXjq94/s72-c/sylvester-rocky.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-3978596920366032063</id><published>2007-03-09T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.769-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motivation'/><title type='text'>The inevitable list...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;“All men should strive to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.”&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; ~James Thurber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;The question I’m asked quite frequently (following closely behind “Are you nuts?”) is “Why would you want to run a marathon?”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why, indeed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since I’m an engineer, I think in lists.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thusly, I present:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Caroline’s top 26 reasons to run 26 miles.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Just to see if I can really do it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Aim for the stars, shoot for the moon,      etc, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Team in Training really is a great      organization.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since I’ve started      this quest, I’ve had so many people approach me to tell me stories of      their loved ones who have battled leukemia and other cancers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cancer has touched my own family, and      giving of my own time and energy is a great way to honor those who have      battled against these diseases.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Re-read #2.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;I can’t say this strongly enough... I am humbled and inspired by      the stories I’ve heard and by the struggles that my own family has been      through.&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I consciously think of      them when I’m struggling up a hill or over a few tough miles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m blessed to have my health and the      physical ability to do this training.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Do you have any idea how well you can get to      know yourself on a long run?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve      had the most random conversations with myself and deep thoughts in the      midst of a long run.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Summer’s coming.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That means swimsuits.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A girl’s gotta be prepared.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Oh, the fabulous amount of food I can eat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the guiltless carbohydrates.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Carbs = Fuel!)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Camaraderie of belonging to a team... making      new friends with like-minded individuals who like to push themselves      physically.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Bragging rights.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And that big shiny medal they put around      your neck when you finish. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Because at the end of 26 miles, that      celebratory beer will taste mighty good.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I have a wee bit of a competitive streak      (thanks Dad).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s a lot, Ok, a      ton, of things I can’t win at:&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;golf, tennis (umm.. make that ANY sport requiring hand-eye      coordination), bowling, thumb wrestling.... But I can definitely out-run a      few folks.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(I dedicate #10 to my      wonderful brother.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;:-)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;We are lucky to live in one of the most      beautiful places in the country.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;Running the central coast allows me to appreciate just how      spectacular nature can be.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;It feels good to be healthy... more energy,      better skin, happier demeanor... running keeps me healthy on the inside      and outside.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;With all the craziness that is our lives...      work, home, family, general chaos... it’s pretty super to get a few hours      when its just me and the pavement.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;(Uh-oh... starting to sound like a Nike commercial over here.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I always thought the “runners high” was a big      fat myth that other runners talked about to non-runners.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Nope.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;It exists, its fantastic, and it’s worth the miles you’ve got to      put in to find it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Pancakes.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;(See #6)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I hear &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;San        Diego&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;’s nice in June.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;And &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San        Diego&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; has a groovy zoo!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love zoos!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;You can get rid of a ton of aggravation and      stress by pounding the pavement.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I      can attest to this firsthand.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Running’s a pretty cheap sport.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A good pair of shoes is really all you      need to get started.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As is      inevitable though, there are lots of accessories that I suddenly “can’t      live without”, but at its core, it’s a simple, inexpensive and convenient      way to be involved in competitive sports.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;It’s the right time in my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;2006 was an enormous, hectic, crazy year      for me... it’s time to settle down, focus on “me”, and do something good      for both my community and myself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Because this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfG14gFFehI/AAAAAAAAAAc/fJBe1qfnMHo/s1600-h/RNR+Start.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfG14gFFehI/AAAAAAAAAAc/fJBe1qfnMHo/s320/RNR+Start.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040009440292862482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Looks incredible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I cannot wait to be one of those people!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="22" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I will hit the big 2-8 six days before the      race.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What better way to kick off a      new year (and have a good excuse to eat a whole lot of birthday cake).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I’ve been so completely awed by the support      from friends and family that I’ve received already...&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t let all you good people down      now, can I?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Did I mention the pancakes?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;I’ve now got a legitimate reason to read &lt;i style=""&gt;Runners World&lt;/i&gt; without looking like      a poser.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Because it feels oh so good to stop.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-3978596920366032063?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/3978596920366032063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/3978596920366032063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/03/inevitable-list.html' title='The inevitable list...'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/RfG14gFFehI/AAAAAAAAAAc/fJBe1qfnMHo/s72-c/RNR+Start.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3258332755993383808.post-2945112185780549843</id><published>2007-03-05T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T08:21:29.984-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='training'/><title type='text'>Here We Go...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Some of the world's greatest feats were accomplished by people not smart enough to know they were impossible."   &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;- Doug Larson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ten miles. A distance you could cover in ten quick minutes on the highway, or a few rambling hours on foot. On Saturday, it took me about an hour and a half. Saturday was our ten-mile Team in Training run, and somewhat of a milestone for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've had this mental block at the ten-mile mark... a feeling that if I could make it to ten, then I'd truly be training for a marathon. It's a distance that you don't choose to cover without some goal in mind; at least I wouldn't go out and you know, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;casually&lt;/span&gt; run a ten miler. I woke up Saturday with a pit in my stomach, my nerves in a twist - just a mindset that this would be scary. It's been a number of years since I'd covered more than eight miles and this was the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be a dreamy day, one of those gorgeous spring mornings when you're thanking the heavens that you get to live on the Monterey Bay. Blue skies, ideal temperature, and that ocean view that sells a whole lot of postcards. And I did it. With teammates who were working through the same distance, lots of high-fives and "Go Team"s, and an endless supply of smiles. I was on top of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that in the grand scheme of things, this is a shorter training run... a distance that I'll look back at fondly as an "easy" one, but for me it was more than that. It was a mental step to say, "I can do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we go... I'm officially ready to say "I'm training for a marathon" and mean it. I'll be using this site to document my training - for those of you who have offered your support and for myself, a memento of these many miles, of this dream that I've had for so long. I'm sure many of you are wondering "Why in the heck would she want to do this?". I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;'ll save that for another day, but rest assured that there are many, many reasons (not all crazy either). Thanks for reading, and here's to truly finding the joy in my journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/ReyN0_zqwgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ouvjiCfL3so/s1600-h/DSC_0017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/ReyN0_zqwgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ouvjiCfL3so/s320/DSC_0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038558024741601794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3258332755993383808-2945112185780549843?l=justrunone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2945112185780549843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3258332755993383808/posts/default/2945112185780549843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justrunone.blogspot.com/2007/03/here-we-go.html' title='Here We Go...'/><author><name>Caroline</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03110258160499859940</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h--iaVWa3uI/ReyN0_zqwgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ouvjiCfL3so/s72-c/DSC_0017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
