Amy Reinink

My one-word review of the second ZOOMA Annapolis 10K and Half Marathon: Better.

Considering the fact that last year’s inaugural race was enough fun to lure me back this year, “better” is pretty darn good, and speaks to some major upgrades from the race’s inaugural running.

Improvement No. 1: Last year’s race was marred by horrible traffic and parking delays. Race organizers offered discounts on this year’s registration to anyone whose chip time last year started several minutes after the gun time, assuming we’d gotten caught in traffic. They promised to do better this year. I took them up on it, and was pleased to note that traffic control was better this year. We still waited in a long backup on Route 50, but we got through it with plenty of time to start with the crowd.

Improvement No. 2: Last year’s course bypassed the loveliness of downtown Annapolis, veering instead toward the decidedly unlovely (and hilly!) Ritchie Highway. The half-marathoners still had to tackle Ritchie, but we all got to run past the historic State House building, and through adorable historic neighborhoods around it. The course still felt absurdly hilly at points, but we at least had nice scenery to take our minds off it. Full disclosure: The elevation stats don’t look that bad, making me wonder if I’m maybe just wimpy.

The stuff race organizers couldn’t do anything about: It was a hot, muggy day to race, by Maryland-in-June standards. The five runners in my group agreed that this sapped our energy and/or will to live, making even some of the serious marathoners among us consider ditching the half-marathon for the 10K. I ran a perfectly fine 5K, then jogged another pitiful, hot, hilly one to the finish. My official finish time: 54:29, 8:43-minute mile pace. Gaah! My splits are more telling. Mile 1: 8:05. Mile 2: 8:05. Mile 3: 8:28 (biiig hill, but holding it together). Mile 4: 8:43. Mile 5 … well, we don’t need to get into specifics, do we? That was good enough for 105th of 1542 total runners, and 18th of 270 in my age group, suggesting I wasn’t the only one struggling out there today.

The stuff that makes this race worth doing: Like last year, the finish festival was incredible. I got both a table massage and a chair massage, both for free. I didn’t stretch a bit, but the rub-downs left my muscles feeling supple and relaxed. The race promises free wine “tastings,” but the wine table this year offered full glasses. The boxed lunches were tasty and girl-friendly, with hummus and veggies and pita wedges. If there’s something nicer than getting a massage, then bonding with your running buddies over glasses of chilled Barefoot Pinot Grigio while a cover band croons Jack Johnson tunes, I don’t know what is.

Pictures to follow …

Did you run this race? What did you think?

Elite runners train in high-altitude environments, knowing that running in oxygen-deprived environments will make running everywhere else a bit easier. That’s kind of how I’m choosing to view my last few training runs in Florida, where I’ve spent the past several days on a mini-vacation.

I’d intended to get in a few more hard training runs before the ZOOMA Annapolis 10K this weekend—a speed workout here, a long tempo run there. As it turned out, the heat and humidity made the runs hard, but in more of an I-hope-I-don’t-have-heat-exhaustion kind of way. In their wake, I offer the following list of hot-weather running resources and tips from places like Runner’s World, Running Times and Olympian and running coach Jeff Galloway. An important bottom line: If you feel lightheaded, dizzy or nauseous, STOP.

A few of the best, if most obvious, tips:

1. First, I was thrilled a few weeks ago to find a new hot-weather coping mechanism in the New York Times that justifies Slurpie consumption. A New Zealand endurance athlete and exercise researcher says people who drank a slushie before exercising in the heat lasted for longer than their non-slushie-consuming peers. Low-calorie Gatorade and ice in a blender, anyone?
2. Go easy at first to let your body acclimate to the heat. Galloway says most runners begin to slow down at 55 degrees and start suffering at 65 degrees—cut yourself a break accordingly. He suggests slowing down a full two minutes per mile slower than you could have run that distance that day.
3. Drink Up. The rule of thumb is to aim for 16 to 32 ounces of fluid per hour of exercise, or three to six ounces every 15 to 20 minutes. Sports drinks can help replenish sodium stores.
4. Run early or late, when it’s coolest.
5. Do speedwork on the treadmill.
6. Choose lightweight, light-colored, loose-fitting technical gear.
7. Cool down after. Have access to a pool? Use it! Don’t have access to a pool? At least that post-long-run ice bath will be a bit more tolerable.

Other resources:

Seasonal Running, Jeff Galloway (this is a great list offering suggestions for what to wear in certain temperatures, how to adjust your goal race pace for certain temperatures and other helpful tips)

Beat the Heat, Runner’s World

Heat Tested: A Miami Running Club’s Tips, Runner’s World

Hydration and Heat Management, Running Times

What’s your best tip for beating the heat while running? Let me know by posting a comment below.

I love races. I try to limit myself to roughly one a month to avoid spending every penny of my discretionary income on registrations, but it’s just so much fun to join a community of like-minded people on what amounts to a catered group run. I love pinning my number onto my shirt. I love getting brunch or dinner with friends post-race. I love the T-shirts that remind me of the fun I had on race day every time I wear them. So it’s with a spirit of restraint (I want to do even more!) that I offer my tentative (dependent on my not being injured!) summer race lineup:

The definites: Not only have I signed up for the all-women ZOOMA Annapolis 10k on June 6, I’ve convinced half my running group to come with me! I’m as excited about the promised wine tastings, chocolate, spa treatments and other girlie treats at the post-race festival as I am about the race itself.

I hope to get another cute technical tee, like the one I got at ZOOMA last year.

The next weekend, on June 12, I’m doing the Clifton Caboose 5K, as suggested by race director Gary Anderson, who suffered a wrist injury (and recovery) quite similar to mine. This race, in the adorable-looking and historic Clifton, Va., includes a post-race awards ceremony at “the big red barn” on Main Street.

There's an actual caboose at the Clifton Caboose 5K.

The tentatives: I’m scoping out fall distance races, and plan to do some combination of the three of these: The Annapolis 10-Miler on Aug. 29 (registration starts June 1), a hot and hilly race that’s raved about by everyone who runs it. Plus, you get a cool waterproof running jacket in your goody bag. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Virginia Beach Half Marathon on Sept. 5 is a nice excuse to go to the beach for Labor Day weekend. Plus, some of my running buddies are doing this one, too. Also a contender: the Philadelphia ING Rock ‘n’ Roll Philadelphia Half Marathon on Sept. 19.

The big, fun one: Ragnar Relay Washington, D.C., on Sept. 24-25! I’ll attempt this crazy, 194-mile relay race from Cumberland, Md., back to D.C. with eleven of my closest running buddies with Pacers Silver Spring. Here’s how it’ll go down, according to Ragnar’s Web site:

“During the relay, each team member runs three legs, each leg ranging between three to eight miles and varying in difficulty. Each team is responsible for providing two support vehicles, with six runners in each vehicle. The first vehicle will drop off the first runner, drive ahead a few miles, cheer the runner on, and provide them with water, snacks, and plenty of love. That vehicle will then drive ahead to the first exchange point to drop off the second runner, and pick up the first runner when that leg is complete. They will repeat this pattern for six legs until they hand off to their second vehicle. This leapfrogging pattern will continue all the way to the finish line.”

We'll have two vans, neither of which will look as classy and official as this one.

Sounds like a combination between a distance race, a backpacking weekend (the no-showers, I-can’t-smell-myself-so-I-must-not-smell part) and a road trip. Needless to say, I’m thrilled.

Which race are you most looking forward to this summer?

Today’s post is a bit late, and a bit abbreviated, but for a good reason—I’m playing catch-up after a fabulous, fun-filled birthday weekend. Here’s a brief glimpse of the (multiple!) events Steve planned to made the long weekend so special.

On Thursday, my actual birthday, my running group tackled its first trail run of the season. It was maybe the prettiest day of the whole year—sunny and warm, not too humid, with a the sky the kind of blue that makes it look like someone’s power-washed it. We hit Adega, our favorite wine bar and restaurant, after, and ended up closing the place down after a few too many bottles of wine for a school night.

The next day, I told everyone who would listen that I was simply too tired to go out the next night—Steve had instructed me to be ready for my birthday festivities at noon on Saturday, so I wanted to relax on Friday. That night, I was genuinely surprised when Steve led me into room full of the same running buddies from Thursday night, plus several other friends, for a surprise party.

My running buddies and I had lots of fun with the purple streamers decorating my party. Because turning 30 doesn't mean you can't act like you're 13.

Better yet, the birthday celebrations on Saturday weren’t a hoax to throw me off the trail of my surprise party—we left for the Shenandoah the next morning! Steve and I have long ogled the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club’s hike-to cabins, and he rented one for us! The plan called for us to hit some Virginia wineries on our way to the trailhead, then to hike a mile in to the cabin. The only problem: Weather forecasts called for downpours all night. We went anyway, because turning 30 doesn’t mean losing one’s sense of adventure!

We were undaunted by the drizzle on our drive to the trailhead.

The wineries were lovely, and the tastings (which Steve drove me to) were delicious. The heavy rain held off until we hiked in, and the foggy drizzle gave the hike a sense of mystery.

Prepping to hike to our cozy little cabin.

The rain pummeled the cabin all night, but we were safe and warm inside, and had the best night sleep we’d had in weeks. Better yet, the rain stopped just in time for us to hike around the area the next day.

Our cozy little cabin.

I offer the rest of our trip in pictures. I’m motivated by so many parts of last weekend’s festivities: the fact that I have such a lovely bunch of running buddies to help celebrate good times; the fact that I am in good enough health to pseudo-backpack a mile to my birthday party in the woods; and the fact that a hill workout on Sunday burned off the calories in my leftover cookies ‘n’ cream ice cream cake from Moorenko’s, the homemade ice cream shop around the corner from us.

Our tasty camping dinner.

My delicious lunch at the Thornton River Grille, my favorite post-camping restaurant.

This cake makes speed workouts worth doing. It also makes life worth living.

I ran my first marathon the year I turned 26. Though the timing was accidental, the numbers gave me a sense that 26 was an age at which I would challenge my concept of what I could accomplish.

I have tried to mark each birthday with some sort of milestone event, or at least a workout that cleverly incorporates my new age—completing my first open-water swim at 27, a timed 29-minute swim as part of my 29th birthday workout.

One would think I’d have something Big planned for my 30th birthday. Instead, I’m marking the milestone not by challenging myself to do something crazy and cool, but by working to foster a sense of acceptance of where I’m at right now, and gratitude for how far I’ve come. Milestone achievements and busy days are cool, and I’ll likely have many of both throughout the next year (starting with outdoor emergency care classes for ski-patrol training starting in August!). But on this particular day, I’m leaning toward taking things one day, one hour, one moment at a time.

In the fall, I might feel ready for my next marathon. Rather than getting my hopes up for a particular race for which I will train with single-minded focus and absurd inflexibility (which I’ve been guilty of in the past), I’m going to see how training goes and up the ante only if it feels right. And this evening, I’m going to celebrate my milestone birthday with a chilled-out trail run with my running group, then a lovely post-run outing at Adega, our favorite wine bar/restaurant.

This all sounds so relaxed and reasonable, right? It’s certainly much smarter than I’ve been about training in the past. But since only three months ago, I couldn’t run at all, the simple miracle of being able to hit the trails feeling healthy and strong seems like enough to fulfill me.

Older and wiser, right?

It’s hard to believe during the thick of training—at mile 17 of a 20-mile run, or when you’re sore and tired from lifting during an uninspired cross-training workout—that your hard work will, at some point, pay off with increased speed and strength. Especially when you’re first starting out, or just coming back from an injury, pregnancy or other forced hiatus, it can feel like you’ll never get to the point where your workouts leave you feeling good rather than dejected.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote that after months of hard work and patience, I got a boost in my wrist’s strength and range of motion seemingly overnight, saying it was like the way Hemingway describes a man going broke: “gradually, and then suddenly.” This past week, the same thing happened with my running legs. My weeks of slow, painful training runs and exhausting swims and hill workouts finally paid off with a fast (for me!) 10K on Sunday: I ran the Capitol Hill Classic 10K in 50:35—slightly over eight-minute miles, which was fast enough to get 31 out of 323 women in my age group (which I’ll only be in for another three days!).

Even if my time hadn’t been so ego-boosting, I would be raving about this cool, low-key race, which benefits the neighborhood’s elementary school. The packet pickup takes place in the school itself, with the bag drop in the playground outside. This set the tone for a friendly race, unfriendly hill notwithstanding (we’ll get to that …).

Me and my running buddies in the elementary school before the Capitol Hill Classic 10K.

I started the race with no time expectations for myself. I thought a good race would mean less than nine-minute miles, but prepared myself to go even slower. I started the race with Steve, and felt all warm and fuzzy that my speedster husband was holding back to run with me through the lovely rowhouse neighborhoods in Capitol Hill.

At about the 1.5-mile mark, I glanced at my Garmin to find we were running seven-minute miles. Steve wasn’t running with me—I was running with him!

I slowed down to what felt like a sustainable pace as I started the trek around RFK Stadium. I glanced at my Garmin again to find that my “sustainable pace” means eight-minute miles again. Welcome back, legs! Thanks for showing up to the party!

I kept this up on the gentle, rolling hills on Capitol Street and Independence Avenue, as I passed lovely urban parks and neighborhoods full of dog-walking spectators. The crowd support was amazing for such a small race, and helped immensely.

I was on pace to run a sub-50-minute 10K when I caught up to two of my regular (pre-surgery) running buddies. Then came that hill. Capitol Hill only represents an 80-foot elevation increase, according to my Garmin. But that 80 feet is consolidated into a short, steep, quad-eating monster, and I dragged up it at 10-minute mile pace. What’s truly scary is thinking about how slow I would have been without the hill workouts I’ve been focusing on!

Thankfully, Capitol Hill is the last significant challenge of the race, and I managed to pick up the pace again through the lovely, flat neighborhoods leading to the finish line, after which we headed to our post-race reward: brunch at Le Pain Quotidien. I can’t be sure about this, but I think if I’d known praline butter (!) was in my future, I could have managed a bit more speed on that hill.

The gang outside Le Pain Quotidein for post-race brunch.

Have you run this race in the past? How did you fare on the hill?

When I first took my Garmin out of the box in January, I cooed to it like one would a newborn baby: I’ve wanted you for so long!

Me opening my new Garmin Forerunner 305 in January.

For the past few years, I had relied on the cheap (roughly $30) but finicky Nike + with my iPod Nano to determine distance and pace on long runs. I’d gotten it to a reasonable level of accuracy after long hours calibrating it on a track. Still, I found it would frequently crap out when I needed it most. After one particularly disappointing instance, when it lost my distance data halfway through what may or may not have been a 20-mile run leading up to the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon, I vowed I’d save up for a Garmin before my next distance event.

When I started Garmin-shopping, I was overwhelmed by the choices: Should I drop more than $300 on the sleek-looking Garmin Forerunner 405? Go super-cheap (roughly $125) and get the Garmin Forerunner 205? Personally, I found the 305, which goes for about $150 on Amazon.com, to be just right. This review is not intended to dis on the 405, but merely to suggest that the 305 is an equally viable, much cheaper option for those in the market for a Garmin.

You can find out all the technical gobbledygook for the various models on Garmin’s Web site. Here, I offer a list of random pro-305 factoids collected from running-store employees from here to Colorado, fellow runners and Garmin owners and my own experience:

• The 405’s screen does not like the rain, apparently, and will act funny if you run through a drizzle while wearing it.
• The 405 collects data from more satellites. The manager of a Fort Collins, Colo., running store assured me I wouldn’t notice the difference between a 305 and 405 in this category. Not that I’ve used the 405 to compare, but the 305 hasn’t failed me yet, satellite-wise.
• The 305 lets you upload your workouts to nifty Web sites that break down your run into maps and elevations and average paces and split times, just like the 405 does.
• The 305 is bulkier. I’ve found this to be an appearance thing; my wrist is pretty skinny, and I really don’t notice it’s there, heft-wise. If the bulky appearance bugs you, you should buy the 405. But keep in mind: If you didn’t have a ginormous watch, how would everyone know how cool you are?

The Garmin is big. For a $100 savings, I'm fine with that.

Bottom line: I found the main difference between the 305 and 405 to be appearance. And yes, I would have liked a less bulky watch. But I didn’t care enough about the heft (which truly isn’t even that bad) to pay twice as much for the 405. On the other hand, spending an extra $25 for the 305 versus the 205 was an easy call.

Do you own a Garmin Forerunner? Which model? How’s that working out for you?

I’d had nothing but good experiences with Pearl Izumi gear when I was asked to test-run its new line of trail-running shoes. Still, the fact that my only experiences with Pearl Izumi have come from cycling gear (most notably, an incredibly comfy pair of bike shorts) made me wonder how good the running shoes could actually be.

I was excited to try these Pearl Izumi trail-runners. But I was also skeptical.

Turns out, pretty darn good! My first impression of Pearl Izumi syncroFuel XC trail-runners: Soft, cushiony and light—what I’d expect from the company’s bike shorts, but a surprise coming from shoes meant to tear up the trails.

What I loved: Trail-runners usually feel bulky and overly large, leaving my narrow feet feeling like they’re swimming in way too much shoe. Not these: The seamless upper and nicely shaped heel kept my feet where they should be, and the light (9.6 ounces) construction made me feel like I could use these for a road race.

The shoes still felt strong and stable once I hit the trails yesterday for my first off-road five-miler of the year (whoo hoo!), proving they’re soft when they need to be and sturdy when conditions call for that.

They were so soft and comfy, I didn't want to take them off post-run!

What I didn’t love: The soles weren’t quite as grip-tastic as those on the Saucony ProGrid Xodus Trail-Running shoes, which I reviewed last September and praised for their amazingly sticky Vibram outsoles. Also, randomly, the toe box of the left Pearl Izumi trail-runner felt rather large and wide, leaving the very front of my left foot flopping around a bit.

Bottom line: At $110, these shoes offer a comfortable, light trail-running experience for a reasonable price. Definitely worth a try if you’re in the market for new trail-runners. These babies will be hard to send back!

I’d been curious about KT Tape ever since I noticed what appeared to be a tangle of black duct tape stuck to volleyball player Kerri Walsh’s shoulder during the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. Walsh credits KT Tape to helping her manage her rotator-cuff injuries, and I was convinced that if the tape could help her, it could certainly help a schmo like me.

Still, when I saw a sample of KT Tape in my Marine Corps Marathon goody bag, I didn’t immediately slap it on my tendonitis-ridden ankle. I saw complicated-looking arrangements of tape stuck to other runners’ legs, and assumed there was a long, complicated application process these runners had learned from an expert.

I’m not sure what made me dig out that tape again, several months after the fact, but last week, I finally decided to give it a try. I gave the Web site a quick look to see if I could find instructions for application. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the user-friendly site provides short, helpful videos for applying the tape to every imaginable injury, including tendonitis. It took all of five minutes to get it just right the first time.

I couldn’t tell a difference immediately. It wasn’t until my running buddy commented on the tape mid-run that I realized just how well it was working: I hadn’t thought about the tape, or my ankle, once.

KT Tape apparently works differently for every injury, helping to stabilize some tendons and ligaments and lifting pressure off other ones. I found this description from the KT Tape Web site helpful: “Depending on how it is applied, KT Tape supports, enables, or restricts soft tissue and its movement. By stretching and recoiling like a rubber band, KT Tape augments tissue function and distributes loads away from inflamed or damaged muscles and tendons, thereby protecting tissues from further injury.”

Bottom line: It made my ankle hurt less on two five-milers and one eight-miler. I bought a full roll of pink KT Tape (it comes in other colors, but why would you want them with pink available?) for $12.99 on Amazon.com. My sole complaint: The tape starts peeling off after five or so miles. Still, for that cost, I would recommend anyone with a nagging running injury give it a try.

I’ve been back to running and other cardio for about six weeks post-wrist surgery. I’m getting to the point that I’m signing up for some 10K races—and paying more attention to my pace during my twice-weekly five-mile group runs. I’m still lagging a bit compared to where I was speed-wise, and the last mile of those five-milers still feels harder than it should.

It’s time to return to my go-to butt-kicking workouts, which I’ll share with you here. I follow the FIRST training plan, which endorses three quality running days and three cross-training days every week, and my key workouts have that training program in mind.

1. Speedwork. My go-to speed workout is 3X1-mile repeats at 5K pace, with 200-meter or two-minute jogs in between each rep. I did one or two of these on the treadmill earlier in my return to running, and I’ve done a few rough, slow 5Ks. Now, it’s time to run these workouts on the track, at my *desired* 5K pace.

2. Hills. I warm up by jogging the mile or so it takes to get to the two hills in my neighborhood seemingly made for hill repeats. North Portal Drive is about half a mile long, and has an elevation gain of about 140 feet, according to my Garmin. I run up it three or four times, then jog and wheeze my way back down. Roxanna Road, which is about a quarter of a mile, is much, much steeper (Garmin inexplicably won’t spit out the exact stats), and I run up it 10 times. The last rep is sure to feel closer to a set of lunges than to a run. Need hill motivation? You can count on a 10-percent increase in calories burned for each degree of incline when you’re running hills, Dr. Jana Klauer, a weight-loss expert, told Runner’s World.

3. Swimming for cross-training. I’ve braved my first two post-surgery swims by spending about twice as much time with a kickboard as I do swimming. The first time I swam, it felt like I was working with one arm and one rake. The second time already yielded an improvement: My right arm still felt like a rake, but a pliable plastic rake rather than the scary metal kind you use to kill snakes. My abbreviated workout: 9X300, alternating 100 meters swimming (free and breaststroke) with 200 meters kicking, in IM order.

4. Finally, the long run. I’ve been treating my twice-weekly five-milers with Pacers as my long runs, especially since jogging there and home again adds about a mile and a half. But I can tell my endurance is still low, so I’m attempting to add some mileage for the first time on my run tomorrow. My proposed route would start in Silver Spring, and would follow (roughly) the new, eight-mile Metropolitan Branch Trail to the New York Avenue Metro, where I’ll stop at Pound Coffee for a Nutella latte. That’s right—a latte with Nutella in it. If that doesn’t encourage me to keep going, I’m not sure what will!

What’s your go-to butt-kicking workout?