"When you see someone putting on his running shoes, you can be pretty sure that an adventure is about to happen."  ~Winnie the Pooh

Pre-Race

I awaken to Rupert, our German expedition leader, over the intercom: “Good morning. Today is race day. The temperature is currently zero degrees. Breakfast will be served in a half an hour.” My first groggy thought is zero is mighty cold. I then convert Celsius to Fahrenheit and realize that all the times I said Antarctica would be warmer than Pittsburgh, I was right. We take zodiacs, small boats, to the race and are greeted by our race ambassador, a crabeater seal.

We walk up a short hill to the starting line/staging area where we are handed giant red trash bags which will serve as secondary containment for our belongings. We must place all of our possessions, including our muck boots and bright red wetskins, inside these bags. As we wait for the race to start, people chatter with the friends they have made the last week, take pictures, and use the “porta potty” a box which is placed inside a tent.

The Race

Right as bright, beautiful sunshine lit up the bay around King George Island, the race starts. I plan to run with Sarah, my travel companion, and Tim, a new friend about to finish his seventh continent. However, as we climb the second of two steep hills in the first half mile, I decided that for the rest of the race I’d walk uphills to conserve energy and Sarah and Tim ran ahead toward the Argentine research station. The trail was packed dirt that had frequent steep hills with flats that were either mud fields or glacial streams. The terrain was breathtaking as the sun shone down on glaciers, 30,000 year old moss, hills, valleys and lakes. I began to smile ear to ear, a huge stupid grin about which many of the runners would comment, because it was such an incredible opportunity to run this marathon and such a beautiful day to run it.

Two miles into the run I approached the Argentine base and I saw the other start line. Yes, you read that correctly: the other start line. Due to restrictions that only allowed 100 people per landing, our boat, the Ioffe, had a start line at the Russian and Chilean bases and the other boat, the Vavilov, had a start at the Argentine base. The Argentine start was set up much like ours- boxes in tents, an array of red bags, and it also served as a water bottle drop station. In order to hydrate we had to carry water from our start towards the Argentine base where we would drop it, and on second trip on the figure eight course, return it to our base camp. There were very few spectators, but as I run I see Kelly, a Pittsburgher, and wife of a Vavlovian runner. She cheers for me by name and it feels so great to have support. As I begin to head towards Collins Glacier the lead Vavlovians have already turned around and are heading towards the Ioffe start. It was so cool to see the leaders of the race the first of several times on the course. As I approach the glacier, the terrain shifts from “just” mud to rocks and quicksand mud. The mud was so thick it would literally suck the shoes off of your feet- one runner lost her shoe five times! At the base of the glacier I look up to see Mark, a Brit dressed as Superman, fall and Sarah and Tim holding onto each other as they try not to lose their footing on the descent. I carefully climb the glacier, slipping a few times, but not falling, and put my Yak Trax on at the top.

At this point we turn around and run back to the start where I pick up a water bottle to carry and drop on the other arm of the course. I depart, heading West towards the Chinese research station. There is a hill leading up to a hairpin turn and I see Kelly’s husband, Chris, coming towards me and on the other side of the course I see Sarah and Tim. The camaraderie on the course is incredible. Everyone is cheering for each other… and when you pass people at least four times over the course of the race, that is a lot of support from other runners. The abundant sunshine is starting to fade and I can feel the wind starting to pick up but I catch a nice long downhill and am greeted by a Chinese scientist saying “Welcome to China.” A short while later I see Sarah and Tim and Sarah frantically yells “The Chinese have beer!” When I arrive at the Chinese station they are kind hosts to the West Side Bottle Drop and also have their own aid station complete with water, Coke and beer. Welcome to China, indeed! I head back to our start and cross the half at 2:30, which means I have 4 ½ hours to beat the 7 hour cutoff. This is the point where I really start to relax and have fun.

As I head back towards the Argentine station the mud starts sucking my morale. I’m thrilled to be alive and I can’t believe I’m running a marathon in Antarctica, but really, the mud is exhausting and I swear the streams are getting larger (other runners later collaborated that this was, in fact, the case and I wasn’t just hallucinating). The sun has gone away and the wind is steady. Runners are more spread out than before and I keep myself entertained by cheering for other people. Past the Agentine station, Kelly returns the cheering karma, and then it’s back to the glacier. Runners start yelling at me that there’s a penguin ahead. I run ahead to see a cute little chinstrap penguin (one of only two I’d see on the trip) hopping along. He is so funny that me and Natasha, who is about 50 yards ahead of me, just stop to point and laugh and love the moment. The glacier is much less slippery this time around and at the bottom I mean the nicest couple, Bruce and Saw Lan, who are completing their seventh continent. We chat and share granola bars and I walked with them about a mile just because I enjoyed their company. I considered walking the rest of the race with them, but decided to forge ahead.

Then I had a penguin encounter.

Running all alone I am thrilled to see the little chinstrap penguin again as he waddles along the trail and up a hill. I approach him and realize that in order to give him the recommended 15 feet of space I would need to step on 30,000 year old moss. No can do. Which environmentally insensitive thing do I do? Penguin? Moss? Penguin? Moss? Penguin. I know that they get stressed if you approach them, but no one told me what happened when they get stressed. I approach him very slowly as he stares at me. I stare at him. I creep past, dreading that I will go down in history as the marathoner attacked by a penguin, but successfully pass my tiny tuxedoed competition, and run ahead.

The next few miles are the toughest of the course. The wind picked up to a fierce 40 mph and there are no runners in sight. I pull off at the start to grab some water where I see Matt, who has already finished, and Tim, who I think has finished. Instead, Tim is also taking a pit stop and has the last Chinese loop like I do. I pair up with the man who was originally supposed to be my marathon buddy and we head out for the final five miles. As we’re heading out, we see our friends starting to finish. The last five miles are filled with chatter, encouragement, and running where our bodies and the course allow. Tim is soaking up life, and what a pleasure to see it, as he drinks beer with the Chinese, takes pictures, and makes new friends. The final five are some of my favorite, and as I come upon the finish line I realize that I really did this. I ran a marathon in Antarctica.

It was a terribly anticlimactic finish. There was a tiny sign indicating the finish line and a staff member holding a stopwatch. There were no spectators to cheer, no finish line clock and Chris served as the finish line photographer. The medals were too heavy to bring from Boston so we didn’t get one at the end. But none of that mattered because I had done something incredible. My time was 6:04, but that is completely meaningless to me. I was seeded 111th but came in 105th which is also nice, but unimportant. For me, the marathon wasn’t about the race, it was about the experience. And it was the experience of a lifetime.

Pictures can be found here.

In the last few days I've been getting some last minute Antarctica-related things. First, my DSLR arrived! I cannot believe I was considering going on this trip without a decent camera. And I absolutely forgot how much I love photography. I've actually, literally, been dreaming about the beautiful pictures I'll be able to take!  The people at Butterfly Photo were amazing. Not only did they call me to confirm my online order, but they also checked to see if I had any questions. When I told them I was leaving soon and asked what day they planned to send the package, they upgraded my delivery to overnight for free! It's hard to find good vendors, and I would most definitely deal with them again.

Second, yesterday I received my copy of The Coolest Race on Earth- the story of the running of the Antarctica marathon! So far it's a very quick read... I'll let you know when I finish if I recommend it.

Today I was featured in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette! Check out the article here and please click here to donate to help injured Marines.

Also, yesterday a ship run by our expedition leaders ran aground in Antarctica! Yikes!

On a perfect day in October 2008, Marines, with full professionalism and precision, helped runners find their places near Arlington National Cemetery for the Marine Corps Marathon.The starting gun fired and the sound of running shoes on pavement combined with spectators cheering, pacers shouting instructions, and runners chatting with friends. Three miles into the race, I heard quiet come over the noisy crowd. I looked to my left and saw the incredible sight of the morning sun slanting through dense fog, the spires of Georgetown peering down upon us. As the hush turned to applause and cheers of hundreds of people around me, I looked to my right to find what had really caused people to quiet with respect and applaud with encouragement, enthusiasm, and pride: a member of Team Semper Fi.

A Marine, wearing a specialized prosthetic for running, had fought beyond the loss of his leg, beyond his recovery, and had made his way to the start of this event, where I know he inspired everyone he passed. As I prepare to run a marathon in Antarctica, I know my course will be difficult, but it will be nothing compared to the challenges and triumphs of that young man.

I am so immensely proud to be raising awareness of the Injured Marine Semper Fi Fund (IMSFF), so that other Marines can have the support and services that they need after suffering injury and illness while fighting to protect our freedom. The IMSFF serves Marines through several programs, including family and medical support, transportation, housing assistance, specialized equipment, transition assistance and therapeutic arts (more details here).

Please support this amazing (c)(3) non-profit organization (EIN 26-0086305). All donations are tax deductible and even the smallest contribution can help with the vast needs of those recovering from injuries sustained during their service.

You can donate here. Thank you for your consideration and generosity.

Dear Pittsburgh,

I have been a resident for two and a half years. You have helped me attain an education in affiliation with one of the best psychiatric hospitals in the country and your dirt cheap housing prices allowed me to buy a condo for a quarter of what it would cost in my beloved DC. Although not my preference, I find it endearing that people speak "[Pittsburghese|http://www.pittsburghese.com/]"  and that a "Pittsburgh salad" is a salad with french fries on it.

The bridges are pretty......

It's also nice to be in a city where people love their football team.... a lot. 

However, we must have a little talk about the weather situation.  Snow is very pretty, I will agree. And Dippy holds a dear place in my heart. He is so handsome yet he only wears his signature scarf in the winter.

But the weather service tells me the following:

"LOW PRESSURE WILL TRACK ACROSS THE OHIO VALLEY TONIGHT. SNOW WILL INTENSIFY THROUGH THE EVENING. SNOW ACCUMULATIONS OF TWO TO FOUR INCHES CAN BE EXPECTED.

BEHIND THIS LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM BITTER COLD ARCTIC AIR WILL MOVE INTO THE REGION THURSDAY AND REMAIN INTO FRIDAY NIGHT. THE COMBINATION OF COLD AND WIND WILL BRING WIND CHILL READINGS FROM 15 TO 20 DEGREES BELOW ZERO.

A WIND CHILL ADVISORY MEANS THAT VERY COLD AIR AND STRONG WINDS WILL COMBINE TO GENERATE LOW WIND CHILLS. THIS WILL RESULT IN FROST BITE AND LEAD TO HYPOTHERMIA IF PRECAUTIONS ARE NOT TAKEN. IF YOU MUST VENTURE OUTDOORS... MAKE SURE YOU WEAR A HAT AND GLOVES."

Now, it's very nice of you, Pittsburgh, to try to help me prepare for Antarctic conditions. Running in snow, cold and wind may be beneficial. This being said, conditions in Antarctica are expected to be a downright balmy 10 to 30 degrees Fahrenheit with a little wind and possible snow flurries. Not even snow, just flurries. So, dear city, please back off and warm up so that I can train in warmer temperatures that will more accurately reflect what running will be like on Antarctica without putting myself at risk for frost bite and hypothermia.

I appreciate your consideration,

Kat

PS- Go Steelers!

I love sales. For me, there is nothing more gratifying than getting something for less than I "should" be able to. It's like a legal version of stealing. Being honest with my sale addiction, I wanted to share a website that is like my crack:

Steap and Cheap

Earlier this year, I snagged a Sugoi Response Jacket, which retails for $125 for just $45! And I got free shipping because they incorrectly advertised that the jacket came with a hood. Their customer service was incredible and I don't run without this jacket. It's logged hundreds of miles with me in cold, snow and wind and has been very good to me. I plan to bring it to Antarctica for the marathon.

Not only do I love Steep and Cheap, I also love their partner sites Chain Love for biking equipment and accessories, Tramdock for skiing and snowboarding and Whiskey Militia for.... well,  Whiskey Militia is a site I'd use if I had a 14 year old nephew who snowboards. I lack such a nephew, so I rarely use the site. I also don't bike or ski regularly enough to benefit from frequenting the other sites. However, Steep and Cheap recently updated their format so that the current deals for the above websites are shown on Steep and Cheap's sidebar. While checking Steep and Cheap today, I stumbled upon an awesome deal on Tramdock. A Smartwool long sleeve v-neck shirt for $25 ($29 and change with shipping)!

This bad boy retails for $60 and the retail gods smiled on me because I was looking for a Smartwool shirt online today, just hours before.  I should also mention that I love Smartwool. 

Their cuffed beanie has kept me warm in many very cold, snowy and/or icy runs. Even when it gets wet it keeps me warm and doesn't stink. The only thing that could be better is if it had a hole for my ponytail so I don't look like a man when I'm out on runs. Yes, I know Nike makes beanies with ponytail holes.  But I love Smartwool (their socks are awesome, too).  And I got it on sale at REI. Speaking of sales at REI, they're having one now. I looked around for some deals and was able to snag an IllumiNITE jacket for $25. Yes, you read that right. $25 with free shipping to the store and it retails for $85.

If you're not familiar with IllumiNITE, they have some awesome illumination technology that makes the jacket look normal during the day, but is super reflective at night:

So, having been inspired by an acquaintance who has her own frugal fashion blog,, I thought I would make my own Active version. Enjoy!

I haven't posted since the Marine Corps Marathon and now that I'm in full swing training for Antarctica, it is probably time to get back to this blog.

Part of the reason I haven't posted is because this is a running blog and during November and December I did a lot of everything, except running. I survived finals, successfully defended my Masters and escaped to Europe for a week long vacation with my boyfriend.

Chris and I at Munich's Hofbrauhaus

There were also the holidays, a nasty cold and a stomach virus that prevented me from eating for three days (and kept me eating only toast and bananas for a few days after that). Some of these things were good (Germany! Prague!), others were bad (stomach virus) but all negatively impacted my running.  Importantly, I'd been able to maintain a reasonable base after the marathon, running 5 miles several times a week, including tough hill workouts, but my long runs had been lacking.

Net result: 0/4 long runs completed. This has never happened. Ever. So here lies the problem. What happens when  an overachiever falls behind (I'll be the one to say it: WAY behind) on her goal? Based on my experience, a combination of freaking out and pushing ahead like crazy. After not being able to run 14 miles, I decided that I had lost all my fitness and conditioning from the past two years of running and if I didn't kick things into gear immediately then I'd never be ready for Antarctica. Hi, My Name is Kat and I'm Neurotic.

The next few days looked like this:

This left my now-dreaded long run for Sunday. I was going to try to repeat the 14 miles that have been plaguing me. Or at least have felt like they've been plaguing me.  I go out to North Park, my favorite five mile loop, with Chris and meet Jen, who is planning to run 8. I plan to run SLOW. Psychologically, I NEED to finish this run. If I need to run as slow as I ran my 10 miles, that is fine with me. Our first five mile are 9:37 to 9:47 pace. Usually on a good training day, I'll run my long runs at 10 min/mile pace. We are running too fast. I verbalize that we should slow down. We do, a little, maybe 5 seconds a mile, and although I feel good at mile 8 when we split from Jen, I am terrified I won't be able to keep this pace. Chris and I trudge along, and the second his toe crosses the 14 mile mark, he is done, but I felt good enough to finish the last loop around the lake to make the run a solid 15 miles. Not only did I run 15 miles, my last mile was my fastest mile and overall, this was one of the fastest long runs I've had to date. One heck of a comeback run to cap off a 40 mile week. 

So I learned a few things:

• If I miss some runs, I'll be okay. The rest may have even done me well.

• Nutrition is key. I know I flopped on my 14-turned-10 miler because I hadn't eaten in days. Before my successful 15 miler I ate very well and I don't doubt that had something to do with my performance.

• Running with a partner is the way to do runs. I run faster and it feels easier. Awesome.

On Sunday I ran my second marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon. After a summer full of strong and consistent training, quality cross-training and finally feeling like I had this marathoning thing down, I was very optimistic about the race. Based on several recent races and 20-mile runs, I thought that I could run 4:15 comfortably, with a margin of error for a particularly good or bad day. No matter what, I knew I would beat my previous PR of 4:42:18 since even my slowest training runs would put me under that by at least 20 minutes.

Sounds nice, right? Well, friends, welcome to the world of marathoning. Even with a lot of quality training and perfect weather, this was what I considered to be a very ugly race. 

Pre-Marathon

The days leading up to the marathon were incredible. It started on Wednesday, when Jen and Chris decorated my condo and was followed by Thursday when I finally started to feel like I kicked the cold that reared its ugly head on Sunday. Friday Chris and I had a safe trip to DC where I went to the Expo, met Bart Yasso, saw friends and later joined some additional friends for a long and lovely dinner. Even race morning I was able to meet up with a half a dozen friends and make some new ones while I waited at the start. I had planned to run with the 4:00 pace group for as long as I could hold on, so I was exceptionally excited when I saw that there was a 4:15 pace group, which was the pace I wanted to run from the beginning. I should note (this may be important later) that to run a 4:15 pace with even splits, you would need miles that were 9:43. I've run two 20 milers at less than 10 minute pace, so I was psyched for an awesome race and a PR when the gun went off.

The Race

The race is phenomenally crowded and I continued to trip over people who were oblivious because of their iPods or who didn't place themselves in the appropriate corrals. Mile 1 is comfortable and right on target: 9:43, but both the speed and the course elevation increase sharply thereafter. I ran with the pacers until mile 8 when I realized that it was a very bad idea. Some of the splits that I ran with the "pacers" included: 9:03, 9:05; 8:59, 9:20. For the most part, about 40 seconds too fast, especially on early hills, and much closer to a 4:00 pace. I'm not sure how much of a role going out too hard and too fast played, but I know it didn't help. By mile 11 I began to feel a blister that I later found out was solidly the size of a silver dollar (three Army guys later eagerly looked at it and took pictures) and I thankfully saw some of the wonderful spectators from the MCM message board at this point. I was rather sad to see that one of the spectators was my friend, Len, who continuously gives me wonderful running advice and was my running angel at last year's MCM; he had to bow out early in the race due to an injury that had been nagging him.

At this point, the course turned onto Haines Point. In theory, changing the order of Haines Point and the Mall was smart, but in practice I thought it was terrible. There was an extra part of the course leading into Haines Point (11-15) that had no spectators, and this was true as you left Haines Point as well. This part of the race was terrible for me psychologically- I had lost the pace group, I felt myself starting to slow down, and there were no spectators to pull me through. Between miles 15 and 16 I saw my best friend, Hannah, and her husband, Andy. I cut off at least one poor person, jumped onto the grass and almost knocked Hannah over as I gave her a bear hug. I only remember telling her that I hated running and was never going to run again.

I hopped back onto the course, unsure how long I was going to be able to keep going before needing to stop to walk. My lungs were burning and hurt as though I had pneumonia. I couldn't catch my breath. I haven't had an asthma attack since high school, but suddenly found myself considering my options if my wheezing got worse. I was also favoring my blistered foot, so my knee was in pain because of my adjusted gait. My calves were knots. It was terrible. It was only mile 16.

Miles 16 through 21 were terribly difficult and really felt much more like miles 20 through 26.2. I got a boost at the beginning of the bridge where Lauren and Holly cheered me on (Lauren most definitely wins the most enthusiastic spectator award. I still smile when I think of her popping up and cheering!). A little while later, I saw the MCM support team again and I was sad to run by them because I knew I didn't have any more spectators. The last cheer I heard was Jen yelling "Who's a runner?! Kat's a runner!" It would need to carry me. I did a ton of walking on the bridge and had the realization that I had a granola bar with me and I should use my walk time for a snack. Best decision ever.

I got off the bridge and suddenly, out of nowhere, had my kick back. I was able to run from mile 22 until the finish. They were not terribly fast miles, but I ran them. Last year I remember so sadly hobbling past the Pentagon and this year I felt so much stronger. I rounded the corner at mile 25, thrilled that the finish was there and I was going to make it when I saw Chris' friend Aaron. It was so incredible to see support when I needed and wasn't expecting it. I was so disoriented and sad because I couldn't find Chris who was a few meters down course- Aaron was planted as an "early warning system"! I could have cried when Chris started to run next to me. Partly because his presence was so comforting and partly because I hated him for making running look so easy! He had water and a protein bar and when I turned down both, he came close to me and told me he loved me- something we save for special occasions- and would see me at the finish line. I remember him putting his arm around me and kissing me on the forehead. I might have made that last part up, but I like it and it is something he would do, so I'll keep it as part of the memory.

I ran up the hill and crossed the finish line, relatively unscathed save for blisters, cramps and a maybe-injured ankle. My final time was 4:42:52... a personal worst by 34 seconds! (I actually find this very funny) In some ways I'm disappointed, but I learned a lot from the race. I now know to trust my own pace (and not pacers!) and that I need more fuel on my runs. I also know I have a much faster marathon in me, and I'll continue to train hard to make sure that one day that race will end up in the books. There are always good runs and bad runs and I think I just had a bad run on a big day, and I'm okay with that.

Post-Race

I met up with some friends after the race at Carpool, a sports bar in Arlington (below is a picture of me and my friend, Isaac). It was wonderful to hear people's successes and seeing everyone's accomplishment gave me some much needed perspective on my "bad" race. Really, my race wasn't bad. I didn't meet my goal, but I finished, and did so with minimal injury. I was also healthy enough to have gotten to the start. I am very thankful for those things. I should also note that Jimmy successfully completed his 177.5 ultra marathon to raise money for the Injured Marine Semper Fi Fund and looked better after 177.5 than I did after 26.2! Jimmy, I'm so proud of you and thankful that we have people like you in this world.

Next up: Antarctica. It certainly won't be a PR, but it will definitely be an experience!