Monday, April 25, 2016

Ravenswood 5k

I do love this run. It's my neighborhood run. I love living in a neighborhood that has a run. It's so much fun to just walk to the start line, see my neighbors and other running friends, take a jog around the hood and then watch my son in the kid's dash before heading back home for breakfast and a Prince dance party.*

For the first time, since I've been doing the run at least, Ravenswood had a t-shirt rather than a technical tee. Now that t-shirts have become these ultra soft, fitted pieces of clothes, I find myself wearing them a whole lot more. There was a time when i think I had two t-shirts in my drawer. Now I have so many I have two piles - plain ones and ones with stuff on the front of them. I regularly make decisions about what shirt I want to wear. Is it a Monkees kind of day or is it a CARA Six Series kind of day? Do I want a plain shirt because maybe I want to look a little nicer or is it after work and I'm just changing into something more comfortable that I may or may not end up sleeping in? This is why it's not a good idea to have too many t-shirts; you have to make decisions. And now I have another one to add to the rotation. Good thing it's cute.

Packet pick up was easy as always and I liked the inclusion of our names on the bibs. My son was also happy that he had a much higher number on his bib than either of his parents. These things are important to a 5 year old.

The morning of the race we walked over with my mom, who would be watching S while we ran, and my sister, who would also be running with her daughter, and headed to the CARA tent. On the way there I did a few warm up blocks and realized that my left hamstring was still sore from the Saturday 12 mile long run with the half marathon training group even though I am not actually training for a half marathon. Sore enough that I made sure to roll it out and ice it when I got home on Saturday, which helped, but apparently didn't solve the problem.

Staci, me, CJ - Photo courtesy of Staci.
Once at the tent I met up with Staci, my sister's daughter showed up, I said hi to a bunch of people and then we headed over to the start. We were able to find CJ close to the 9 min mile marker and so snapped a few pre-race selfies. I knew Sara was around, but due to logistics, we missed each other, so for the first time in several years, we didn't run this race together.

I looked at my splits from this race last year, and my first mile was 9:30ish, mostly due probably to having to weave through people at the start. I also looked at my 5k PR which was not from Ravenswood but from last year's Good Life 5k. I ran that race in 27:44 last year. So if I wanted to PR, I would need to keep my splits under 8:56. Staci and I were both noncommittal on how fast we were going to run, but I think we were both pretty much on board with an 8:50ish pace.

We spent minimal time weaving at the beginning, and we got into a rhythm fairly soon. We weren't chatting too much, but we were on the lookout for the Mayor since he lives along the race route. Apparently he ran the race (supposedly, there doesn't seem to be any record of him in the results) so he wasn't on his usual corner or Berteau and Ravenswood waving. Though my leg was hurting a bit, I was OK with it for the time being. First mile: 8:49.

When I looked at the first mile split, I thought, woah, I feel like I'm going too fast, which might be because we sped up a bit after that. The first quarter of mile 2, we were doing about 8:30. But then I started to slow down, and by 1.5 had gone back down to a 8:50. I walked through the water stop (which had Nuun instead of Gatorade, an interesting choice, and apparently the hydration of choice for all Fleet Feet/RAM races going forward) and with Staci gone, I decided that my leg had had enough. Second mile: 9:26.

Now I had never fully mentally committed to PRing in this race. But every race is a chance to PR - or at least try, otherwise I wouldn't push myself at all. And there is part of me that thinks maybe I could have run through the pain since it actually hurt more the slower I went. But once I made the decision to slow down, there really wasn't anything to make me speed back up. Mile three: 9:43. Final time: 29:08; 60/222 age group; 438/1647 gender; 1200/2984. Well off my 5k PR, but over my finishing in the top half of my age group and gender general goal.

My leg was pretty sore the rest of the day, but seeing S win his 50 yard dash took my mind off of it. He was super happy and kept telling everyone how he won his race. Also, Mr. H. did PR, and my sister beat her daughter (in the race, which isn't always a given when you're running against an 11 year old) so all in all, not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning. Now for a few rest days to see if I can work out my hamstring and not let it derail my marathon training.

*Prince dance party not an annual tradition, but may become one from now on.

Friday, April 22, 2016

Partying like it's 1999 - not 2016

There's this thing called impostor syndrome. Basically, you downplay your accomplishments as being just luck, or not real, anything other than what they actually are, the result of hard work and perseverance. Unless you are an impostor; then it's the result of you understanding that you cheated your way to the top. One hopes that at some point Donald Trump will come to terms with his own imposter syndrome and drop out of the presidential race, but that's besides the point.

And the point certainly isn't that Prince was in way an impostor. No, he was the real deal. A true artist in every sense of the word and our world will be a little less funky without him in it anymore.

No, I am the one feeling like an impostor. I have felt like an impostor in many ways at various times during my life. I know I have written about how I often don't feel like a 'runner' because I'm not the type of runner that one thinks of when they think of a runner. This is something that several of my other 'runner' friends and I have discussed. We don't run fast, or at least not as fast as the people who run faster than us. I think if you run faster than me, then that makes you a 'real' runner. Of course, I don't feel like the people who run slower than me aren't runners. And so one would think I could figure out that if slower than me runners are real runners, then I must be just as much of a real runner as they. But no, I apparently hold myself to a different standard. In reality, I have run three marathons and a whole bunch of other races and I can call myself a runner if I want to and if there is someone out there that thinks I'm not a runner because I'm not fast enough then they probably aren't a runner because runners aren't like that.

I could go on the same way about writing. If I'm not writing enough, producing enough words, well then I shouldn't be able to call myself a writer. There are things that I feel you must achieve a certain amount of success at before one can be that thing. I'm not sure how true it is. It's not like I'm trying to pass myself off as the answer to this nation's problems and get elected to the highest office in the country or anything. If I were doing that, without having any real reason for people to believe that I would be able to handle, say, an international crisis or a natural disaster because my background is primarily being rich and going bankrupt a few times and saying things that people seem to want to hear because I'm 'telling it like it is', well then maybe I was just being honest with myself when I felt like an impostor - but you know, that's not me.

But I am questioning if it is OK for me to be sad that Prince has died; that another light has gone out. It's not like I was the biggest Prince fan in the world. I have listened to, and loved, and sang and danced to much of his music. Though I'll admit that after Diamonds and Pearls and (Love Symbol Album) I haven't really listened to much of his newer music. And a quick search through my iTunes reveals not one Prince song in my library. However, I do know that down in the basement are at least two Prince CDs (I know I have Purple Rain and Batman down there somewhere). And I do know that I had at least one, Purple Rain, maybe 1999, album when I was a kid. I remember Purple Rain coming out at the movie theater and making a pact with my friend Becky that we would go to see it together. She went and saw it without me and that is why to this day I no longer speak to Becky (that and we went to different schools after 6th grade and never saw each other again). But is that enough? Is it enough that Prince was one of those artists that shaped my childhood? That his death is a reminder of my own mortality. The artists that I grew up listening to are suddenly not only old, but sometimes even dying. Maybe I just haven't shown enough devotion to him to actually be sad.

For the record, not one person is questioning my veracity in being sad that Prince died. No one is saying - Hey Melanie, you weren't really a Prince fan, take down that silly Facebook post. I mean, maybe someone is, but they haven't said it to my face, or to my FB page. But there is part of me that thinks maybe I don't have the right to be upset. To the point that I've found it necessary to sit down and write about it on the internet. How self indulgent can I be?

Of course, if there was anyone who appreciated self indulgence, it had to be Prince. And while I'm sure he had his human foibles just like the rest of us, I like to imagine him waking up each day and saying - fuck it - I'm going to do me and everyone else can just deal. And if that meant that people thought he didn't have the right to do this or that, then he just didn't care, because he believed in himself (please don't ask me to bring this back to how DT clearly doesn't care if people believe he has the right to do what he wants to do and how that is somehow different - I can't right now, but just believe me it is - let's just say: Prince = good, DT = not good).

So I'm going to keep on doing me. And that means when Lin Bhremer plays Let's Go Crazy and tells us all to turn up the volume and sing and dance, then I'm going to, and S and I are going to listen and dance and sing to a great musician and be happy he was able to make music while he was here on this earth.

Monday, April 18, 2016

Spring Break

If you live in the city of Chicago and you send your kids to CPS, you know that this week is spring break. Even if you don't live in the city of Chicago and don't send your kids to CPS, but spend any amount of time in the city, you might well know this because hey, there are a bunch of fricking kids walking around the city not in school - what the hell.

Anyway, my son is out of school for his very first spring break, which he has been really looking forward to. Maybe he's seen too many shows on MTV (not) or maybe it's because so many of his friends have actual trips planned to places like Disney (likely) that he has an unrealistic view of what spring break should be like. Unfortunately for him, I do not subscribe to that style of spring break. No, our spring breaks consist of him continuing to go somewhere during the day because his parents need to go to work. However, I actually don't have to go to work, I took the week off. So technically I could be planing adventures for us around the city. Monday we go to Maggie Daley Park, Tuesday we go to the Field etc. But nope, that's not happening either. Instead I signed him up for camp at Lillstreet Art Center. This, in my mind, is the best of both worlds. 

First, he gets to go do something totally different than what he normally does. And there isn't any 'work' like at school. It's all art. Second, his day is shorter, as drop off isn't until 9 and pick up is at 3:30 (which is technically when he gets out of school, but we don't normally pick him up until 5:30 because you know, work, so he spends time doing after school stuff during the week). And third, and this is the best part, I still have time to myself and also with him. We get to have slightly more relaxed mornings; I drop him off; and then I get to go do whatever it is I want to do; then I pick him up and we still have a few hours of play time to go to the park.

What am I going to do during that six and a half hours of free time? Well, I'm glad you asked. Usually I plan my days off with a million things to do and then I don't get through all of them and then I feel bad like something terrible is going to happen because I didn't get through my completely unattainable list. But of course, nothing terrible happens. No one notices that the refrigerator isn't clean or that I didn't dust the base boards or wipe down that one wall that's always dirty. No one except me of course. 

Rather than make a list of all the things I think I need to do before I can do the stuff I want to do, I'm going to do it the other way around. First I'm going to do the stuff I want to do. I'm going to do yoga or run and write and read. And then, if I have time leftover, then I'm going to clean or organize or something, do one of the things on my to do list. And that way I get the stuff for me done first, and I'm not always putting it off. It's a novel approach, and not something I've really tried before. I'll let you know how it goes. 

So far today I have run (which I did at the usual before everyone gets up time so it didn't eat any extra time out of my day). Then I threw in a couple of loads of laundry while I made the reservations and sent the invites to S's birthday party. I know that doesn't fall into the category of 'things I want to do for myself' but it needed to be done and I've also learned (let's be honest, am learning) how to be flexible. Now I'm sitting outside, watching the birds play in the birdbath, eating some lunch, and writing (this blog you're reading - this is the fruit of my writing labor for today). Now that I'm done with this, I may move on to some reading for a bit, then yoga and then we'll see how it goes. I still have more than three hours to do stuff. And it's just day one!

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Chi-Town Half Marathon or Skating 13.1 miles on the lakefront path

As I mentioned at the end of my post about the Shamrock Shuffle, I signed up for the Chi-Town Half Marathon mostly out of peer pressure. In all honesty, there was little to no pressure actually applied. I told my friends that I had an event on Saturday night (a charity auction for my son's school, where parents who pay taxes for public schools give money to the school because we don't value education enough in this country to fully fund our public schools...but that's a blog post for another day). Anyway, when I told my running gals that, they were all - yeah, makes sense, I can see why you wouldn't want to do the half that morning. And then I went and signed up for it anyway because I figured I'd be sad if they all ran it and I didn't. Little did I know.

Since I signed up last minute, the price of the race was a little high, but, you know, that's what I get for waiting. I really like the long-sleeve technical shirt and it came in a reusable (not plastic) handle bag with the bib and one other give away which meant I didn't have to throw away a bunch of stuff. Going to bed on Friday night, I knew it was going to be cold the next morning so I laid out my winter tights, a long sleeve insulated shirt, gloves, and ear warmers. I woke to 25 degrees (on April 10!) but I've run in colder - way colder. No big deal.

On my way down to the lake, I stopped to pick up a runner who was standing at a bus stop. I asked if she was headed to the race, she was, so I offered her a ride. Usually I don't pick up strangers, but you know, she's a runner, it's freezing outside, runners stick together. While it was pretty crowded once we get to the lake, I easily found a parking spot on Montrose off of Simmonds Dr. I texted my friends to let them know. They said they were by the start and I figured it should be easy to find five people. Nope, wrong. I walked around for a bit, ran back to my car to text again (I hate running with my phone) and then went back to the start, and still couldn't find them. 

By this time, people are jammed into one of the three corrals that are set up. No one seemed to know what the other two are for. The corrals were next to each other, parallel to the start line, so naturally everyone went into the one closest to the start. But then, the announcer (who had a love of the words 'whoop' and 'whoop') tells us that the first one is for green bibs, second is for red and third is for blue. OK, so I had a red bib on and that kinda sucks that I snaked my way toward the 10-minute pace flag thinking that's where my friends would be (annoying the shit out of all the people that I was going around because I know how much it annoys me when people do that to me), but whatever, I moved over to the next corral. Amazingly I saw Aliza, who told me that the rest of the gals are going to run 10:40s because of the ice. I told Aliza I can start with her, but I wasn't about to run a 2-hour half, which I knew she wanted to do. We stood around for an extra 15 minutes after the scheduled start time for unknown reasons, during which time Mr. Whoop Whoop reminded us of which colors go in which corrals. Except he started mixing it up. He told us that the first corral is for the red bibs, second green, third blue; or was it first green, second blue, third red? He said different things, seemingly unaware he was being inconsistent, and that he was pissing off a bunch of runners until finally, without much fanfare, they started the race.

We headed north the first couple of miles on the path that hugs the lake. It was covered with crunchy snow/ice that wasn't great to run on, but better than the sheets of ice we encountered when we transitioned to concrete. Most everyone moved up to the grass turning the race into a semi trail run. As we made it up to Hollywood, we went back and forth between icy, crunchy snow and just plain ice. A lot of us ran in the grass so we weren't slipping. But that meant it turned into mud. The sun was out, but nothing had melted much, which was a good thing because you could see where the ice was and avoid it. Heading back south, I began a regime of running from water stop to water stop. I got to the water stop, drank some water or Gatorade (I like to go back and forth) walked through the stop a bit, and then started running again with the mantra, just get to the next water stop. I also kept reminding myself to concentrate on the moment and not think about my pace too much. To not worry about the finish or if I'm going to PR or fall on my ass. Just be where I am. This got me pretty much through mile 8ish. Up until this point, I had been keeping a pretty even sub-10 pace - I had a 9:38 mile and a couple of 9:40s and three miles in the 9:50s. My slowest mile in this stretch was mile 3, due to lots of ice on the path; I ran a 10:32. I'm pretty sure that's the mile where the first of the two runners I personally witnessed, went down on a huge patch of ice. Luckily he was able to get right back up and seemed okay.

The course took us south on the west side of the Diversey Harbor Lagoon and then through Lincoln Park. As we went under Lake Shore Drive at LaSalle, there was, thankfully, a person from the race at the bottom of the ramp letting us know it was icy and to be careful. I have to wonder how many people fell there before they put someone there. Maybe she was there the entire time. It's hard to know. But unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of support out on the course. But more on that later. 

Turning back north, I knew we'd run into wind, and pretty much from North Ave to Belmont was a wall of wind, coupled with a sheet of ice. Thus I entered my "I hate this, why do I do this to myself, I'm going to walk the rest of the way" phase. Somewhere in mile 9 or 10 I did actually walk and figured I'd just walk until my friends who were behind me caught up. I slowed down considerably, miles 9 and 10 being 11 min miles. And, even though the sun had started to melt the ice, and we had moments of running on actual pavement, it was pretty much impossible to see the black ice so every fifth step was a mini slide and the feeling of having just enough control to not fall on your ass. The problem with running this way, in addition to slowing you down, is that it's hard. I probably expended twice as much energy just keeping myself upright. My whole body was tense and I was getting pretty fricking tired of slipping on ice. Despite that, I soldiered through and as I got to mile 11, I found a little bit more strength to finish the race. I ran 11 and 12 in about 10:25 minutes each. By mile 12, I knew that while my goal pace of 10 minute miles was gone, I was well within reaching my PR. The last mile I tucked in behind to wonderful women, told them I was going to follow them in, and we sped to the finish. My last mile, 9:34. As I crossed the finish line, my watch said 2:13 official results were 2:12:57, besting my PR by almost 4 minutes. 

Aliza was at the finish, she managed to PR as well, hitting her goal of running a sub 2. Not all the rest of the ladies were behind me though. Unfortunately we had one casualty; Adrienne fell around mile three and she and Laura made their way back to the start line in an epically ridiculous fashion (their story to tell, so I won't rehash it here, let's just say they found very little support on the course and had a really hard time finding any medical assistance). Being cold and fairly annoyed, I headed back to my car. I was going to go straight home to start all the other stuff I needed to get done, but before that I met everyone for coffee, was glad to see that Adrienne was OK, and then headed home.

So yeah, I PR'd. My official stats are: 34/114 age group; 577/1433 gender; 1223/2426 overall. But there's more...

It's hard to say this, because I did PR, but I don't really think the course should have been opened. At least not without All Community Events having done something to make the path better. As far as I could tell they did nothing to salt or clear the path. I've run races in winter before. I've run races in colder temperatures with ice and snow. And the race directors for those races, they got out the night before, in the middle of the night, and the early morning of the race and did everything they could do to clear the ice, to salt, to ensure the path was safe. As I mentioned, there was little presence of support outside the water stops on this course. It took Adrienne an hour to have someone look at her to make sure she was okay. I can't imagine what would have happened had she been hurt worse. Obviously Laura or someone else would have actually called an ambulance if it really was an emergency, but there should be race support there for that as well. From the very beginning it seems All Community Events had problems with this race. 

I'm not entirely sure why the course was changed, but it's bad form to advertise a specific course and then have to change it because you didn't get the permit. To be fair to them, they did at least provide shuttle buses from the original start to the new start. The start corrals were a joke. They weren't labeled. There wasn't anyone there telling people why there were three different corrals. And when they did finally tell us, they said different things at different times. Everyone was confused. I had pace group leaders, people holding signs, pass me well into the race that were pacing 9 minute groups, 9:30 groups. I didn't start (or intend to start) so far up front that I should have been in front of those groups. And I'm sure they didn't intend to start so far back. I don't fault them for the weather. But you have to know if the weather doesn't cooperate, and you can't provide runners with a safe course, then you call the race. It's not like they would have had to pay us back the money. We all signed something that said the race wasn't liable in case they needed to cancel. 

When I first made it down to the lake, I saw a pickup truck on the path at Montrose and figured that it was a course truck going over the path making sure it was salted. When we started 15 minutes late, I assumed we were waiting because they wanted to get an all clear that the path was safe. The only place I saw any salt on the course was at North Ave. and I doubt All Community Events put that there. 

I'm willing to give race directors the benefit of the doubt. It's hard to put on a race. There are a lot of moving parts (figuratively and literally). But All Community Events is a company that is in the business of putting on races. And if I'm going to pay $80 for a race, I want it to be a well run race, even if that means they have to make the tough decision to delay the race or even cancel due to course conditions. Maybe this was a one off. Aliza said she had run the race before and it was fine. I've run the Turkey Trot and liked it. Regardless, I hope they take this experience and learn from it. Until then I'll be hesitant to sign up for another of their races.

Next up, Ravenswood 5k.

Monday, April 4, 2016

Shamrock Shuffle

Mary and me waiting for the start.
I was trying to remember why I signed up for this race and I'm not really sure. I guess because I did it last year, because several of my friends ran it and because it's a CARA Circuit race so why not (not that I would get points from this race, but at least it counts towards participation*).

So there I was, yesterday morning, putting on my running clothes like the other 23 thousand runners in Chicago. I skipped the expo this year, opting to have my husband pick up my bib for me. I'm still bitter that my son lost last year's neck gator doohicky give away, and I don't really need a pair of green sunglasses, but I think the shirt is cute. Other giveaways in the goody bag included some cold medicine and those gummy vitamins we seem to get from all the races. I do question why there were so many items in the goody bag when there is an online version. I thought the online version was so we didn't waste paper. I guess not. Apparently it is so different prices can be charged to be included in the physical goody bag versus the virtual goody bag.

Moving on. I did my long run on Saturday, 9 miles, so I wasn't really expecting much from this race (much like last year). But then again, my running group has been doing this distance pretty much every Wednesday morning (just so you know, from Montrose at the path to the CARA water trough and back is just under 5 miles) at a 9:30ish pace. My 8k PR is 47:56 which is a 9:38 pace. So there's that.

After Mr. H. and I dressed for the cold weather that began the day (not to be confused with the mid 60 degree weather that ended the day), we made our way downtown with all the other runners on the train. Whenever there is some big race downtown I always wonder what the people on the train who aren't runners are thinking. I assume it's either 'why are all these people wearing running clothes' or 'what is wrong with people who get up early and go run 5 miles in freezing cold weather for fun'. But it's probably more like 'Crap, I forgot the Shamrock Shuffle was today. Now I'm going to have to wait in a huge line at Starbucks with a bunch of stupid runners.'

Once downtown we make our way over the the Wave 1/Red gear check because Mr. H. was in the A corral. I made the mistake of (a) underestimating the pace I would be running and (b) not remembering how much it sucks to be at the back, so I was put way back in F corral. Since we took off more than half an hour after the race started, pretty sure Mr. H. made it to the finish line before I even started the race.

After Mr. H. checked his bag and made his way to the hoity toity** A corral, I made my way over the Wave 2/Blue gear check. After checking my gear, I met up with Mary and her son and we made our way to the F corral. Amazingly, Adrienne was able to find us in the corral and so all three of us were able to run together***. After standing around talking about whatever it is you talk about while standing around before a race, we were off.

The first mile was a little slow for us, mostly because there are 20 thousand other people and because we were trying to stay together. We wanted to make sure we were together at the second water stop so we could take a picture with CJ, who was dressed up as a big dog for PAWS. First mile 9:53.

Miles 2 and 3 were pretty much the same but we were able to pick up the pace a bit. One of the worries I had about this race was the wind. Last year it was windy as heck. But for the most part, the wind wasn't playing much of a factor, at least so far. We skipped the first water stop and finished the 5k with a 9:38 pace. Having turned off auto lap on my watch because it's useless downtown, but then not figuring out how to get it to lap manually, and missing the mile 1 mile marker, I stopped trying to use my watch to pace myself at mile 2. All my pace info comes from what the results are telling me.

Adrienne, CJ the Dog, Mary and me
When we turned south onto Franklin right before mile 3, I braced myself for the wind as this was the worst section last year. Happily, it wasn't bad. That is until we got toward the Sears (yes, I still call it Sears) Tower. Then all hell broke loose. Even though the flags on the side of the building were all waving due east, the wind on ground level was heading due North and we basically ran against a wall of wind for a couple of blocks. Once we made the turn on to Harrison, it calmed down. As we approached the next water stop, we started to look for a person dressed up like a big dog. You'd think this would be pretty easy. Until we realized that with water on both sides of the street, we weren't sure which way to look. But find CJ we did.

Right up until this point I had been telling myself to just get to this water stop. Once we were through it I gave myself permission to slow down if I wanted to. But after our 30 second or so stop and a quick swig of water, my legs actually felt pretty good. I finished mile 4 eager to make the turn on to Michigan and get this race over with.

So, because apparently Bank of America races have some requirement to run up Roosevelt, we make our way up "Mount Roosevelt" before the finish. Of course, running up this hill after 4+ miles is a whole lot different than after 25+ miles. Adrienne commented on as much, saying that she wasn't used to the lack of despair this hill normally induces. Finally, making the turn on to Columbus, we sprint as much as we can to the finish.

Look, we do other things besides run.
Finish time: 48:09, 348/1591 age; 3712/13521 gender; 9387/23448 overall. So you know, no placing medals for me, but still, a very respectable finish.

Unfortunately, our quick photo with CJ probably cost me a PR since I missed it by 13 seconds, but it was totally worth it! Mr. H., who did NOT stop for a photo op with CJ, did however manage to PR. But, that meant he had to wait all that much longer in the cold for me to finish.

Next up, oh yeah, I signed up for the Chi Town Half next weekend out of peer pressure. As Adrienne so aptly noted, these are the types of things we make each other do now. Getting up and running at 5 a.m. Running half marathons just because. But let's not forget, just two short weeks ago, we were playing beer pong at Staci's birthday party.


* I could do a whole long thing up there about CARA's circuit races, and how you earn points. But I figured most people don't really care. The short answer is, if you finish in the top 25 overall or in the top 15 in your age group, you get points. Since the Shamrock Shuffle is so huge, no chance that's going to happen. But there are also participation categories which depends on how many races in the circuit you run. So even if there is no way I'm going to get points, I still get participation points. All of this assumes that I do enough races to qualify. But it's early going and you never know.

** I am in no way implying that Mr. H. is hoity or toity. Just that the A corral itself is.

***I realize that 3 plus 1 is four, but Mary's son didn't want to run with us/wasn't actually in F corral, so it was 3 plus 1 minus 1, which is 3.

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