Next year when you pick up the revised Webster's Dictionary and look up 'anticlimactic' you'll likely see this: 'See: Shannon's Beach to Beacon race attempt'.

After all the talk and all the effort, I only made it to mile 3. The truth is...I was knocked unconscious saving Joan Benoit Samuelson from a crazed fan who attempted to kidnap her (with plans, it's believed, to create a Joan clone and profit from gambling on future Olympic races).

Well, that's not exactly true. Really, I shattered my femur after I leapt from the road to avoid a collision with a parade of infants who had crawled into the race course path. I continued to run on the broken leg, grunting in pain and continuing to be hardcore, but 8 race officials forced me to stop.

What do you mean that's a load of baloney?

Truth is (really) the first two miles were a breeze (i.e., I didn't feel like I was going to die). But somewhere just before the 3rd mile my right foot hit the pavement and it felt as though someone had just stabbed my ankle. It was already sore - but not that sore - from running on the bad shoes (at least I'm blaming the shoes) a couple of weeks ago. At mile 3, however, I couldn't even walk on it. I mean, my eyes were tearing, and I'm not one to tear.

So I sat with an ice pack and watched the rest of the runners go by...then the walkers...then the sloooow walkers and the disappointment set in.

How could I come back to the blog after such a horrendous defeat? I've been practicing avoidance since Monday, I admit (though I've also been on vacation, showing a fellow flatlander around Maine...limping) but had to finally come clean.

In an effort to alleviate some of the guilt, I also changed my race number:

I've renamed the race the "Beach Toward Beacon 5K."

Still doesn't make me feel any better. Neither does the doctor telling me "it's just a strained muscle. Take some ibuprofen and try to stay off it." What? A strained muscle? I can't show my face again with a strained muscle! Can't you break it for me or something? Give it a good poke with the scalpel so at least there's a scab?

No such luck, so I guess I'll just live with the shame for years to come.

Wait, what's this? The Trail to Ale 10k in September? How hard can that be?

Congrats to all those who DID finish - especially the Reach the Beacon group. Ya'll kicked arse.

I've been remiss in not updating for the last couple of days -- that's because the only thing I could think of to say is: "I'm scared. Nervous. Borderline crazed."

And who wants to read that?

My heart has been racing since Monday and this time, Turbo can't be blamed. I also picked up my race packet yesterday and spotted the "Notice: Road closings" signs everywhere. I nearly drove off the road in panic.

I know I'm not going to die. I know I'm going to finish (eventually). Even the race time isn't important to me. Under 1:20 and I'd be ecstatic. But my ankle is taking the brunt of what was once a shin issue (must've been compensating, running funky and strained something) and I fear I may be walking a good portion of the race.

But I'll be there and I'll finish.

On a side note, if you've never tried an Icy-Hot Patch, go get one. Pain or no, they're just cool (pun intended).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

John Rogers (Maine Running Company owner and our Reach the Beacon training captain) sent out this list of tips that hopefully he won't mind me sharing:

DRINK! Keep hydrated all the time. You will feel better and you always want to avoid dehydration. It will sap energy. Concentrate on drinking fluids, especially water, several days before the race.

Try to catch up on sleep! Don't worry about jitters and insomnia the night before a race. If you get good sleep the week of the race, the night before won’t matter. Getting enough sleep a few days before the race will also help keep you healthy and do your body wonders.

Be Positive. During your easy runs, take time to reflect on all the hard work you've done. Let this knowledge bring you a sense of accomplishment and confidence. Visualize yourself running strong and succeeding.

Ensure You Are Wearing Proper Footwear. Did you really think I wouldn't bring this up? Seriously, it is important to wear proper footwear. If your shoes have more than 400 - 600 miles on them, or you've had them more than six months, the cushioning properties have greatly diminished. Get a new pair, but make sure it is not the night or day before.

Don't Take Off Too Fast at the Start. You're tapered, you're ready, you're fired up, the energy of the crowd is exciting and your adrenaline is pumping. All this can lead to a great race. Don't do what your body is begging to do, which is to take off like an Indy car driver coming out of the pits. Pay attention to your early pace. If you don't feel like you're holding back a little, chances are you're running to fast. Although you feel good, the problem is that once your body settles in and the adrenaline rush is over, running too fast in the early miles will catch up with you later

Adjust Your Race Plan as Needed. Once race day has arrived you have a goal you hope to accomplish. Unfortunately, last minute factors may hinder this. If it is a really hot day, just know that your goal time will have to be adjusted. If you have a cold or are recovering from an illness, your time will reflect this. At this point, the key to feeling good about your race is to accept that there are variables you cannot control and let it go.

Have Fun And Enjoy The Day. You have taken on a big challenge and worked hard. Be proud of yourself….have a great race!!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I have to get back to work (unbelievable, right, that my job makes me work) but I'll be posting some inspirational last-minute words of wisdom this afternoon (once someone tells me what those "words of wisdom" are).

...one is silver and the other...is good for taking out the trash or running errands when you're feeling frumpy, haven't recently bathed and don't expect to see anyone you know.

I welcomed a new addition to the family yesterday - well, two actually, but I'm already playing favorites with "Righty."

I should have bought new shoes four months ago, but I wasn't aware of the "300-500 miles" rule. Even if I had been, 500 miles is an inconceivable concept to me. In my mind, I couldn't reach that distance in a lifetime.

I've got a brief 5-day window to break these puppies in, and all the interns have turned down my request to walk around in my shoes for me. The Tuesday night run will have to suffice, though I'm still a bit nervous about the shins. They still hurt, but I've made it a point to massage them (the interns turned down this request, too) and wearing shoes with decent support.

I have thought about suing Target for making cheap flip-flops...or maybe I'll sue the city for using such hard bricks in the sidewalk. Aren't there squishy bricks out there somewhere? Maybe rubber bricks that can just bounce you down the street. Heck, why don't we have any of those moving walkways you see in airports?

And no, I don't see the irony in asking for a motorized walkway to help prepare me for exercise.

On a side note: Thought I was getting ill, but I realized yesterday that my constant state of nausea is tied directly to my intense nervousness about the B2B. Is it weird to run with a barf bag?

I never thought I'd grimace to hear the words: "You should take it easy. Rest your legs." In fact, I've dreamed of hearing such a command.

In my dream I run so easily that each stride bounces me gently into the air, slow-motion like, and eventually I become so light that I never touch the ground at all. I just run, mid-air, along the streets of the neighborhood I lived in when I was little. Then Chef Ramsay (Of Hell's Kitchen fame) calls to me from below, "Shannon, I've cooked you a splendid grilled cheese sandwich. Take a break and have a bite, yeah?"

But in reality, my running hasn't been nearly as carefree. Seems the combination of running in two-year-old shoes, walking to work in paper-thin flip flops ($5.99 at Target, thank you very much) and too much running (that's right - too much) has irritated my leg muscles. From just under my knee to the inside of my ankle there is a distinct pain that started during a run and, well, hasn't left since.

With the race only a week away, another run or two isn't going to make much of a difference in my training - beyond where I am right now. It could further agitate the legs, though. So, I'm at peace with taking it easy the next several days - and getting new running shoes.

As for the flip flops, I'm too cheap to buy well-crafted ones with adequate foot support. Instead, I think I'll staple some Dr. Scholl's inserts to the ones I already have.

Last week the Reach the Beacon group got tech tees. We were able to choose from several colors, but for some of us the choices were limited due to...um...inappropriately sized shirts (seriously, anything smaller than an XL on me wasn't fit for public viewing).

So I went for peach. Or maybe it's orange. I think it looks like the Crayola color I used to draw myself when I was little.

Now I'll let you in on a little secret. This isn't the first time I've trained to run a race (Gasp! Could it be true?!). I trained for a half marathon back in Chicago in 2005 - but don't start thinking I actually ran 13 miles. Not even close. My running group ran a 13-minute mile on a 3:1 run/walk ratio. We never ran for more than three minutes at a time.

So yes, I finished the race, but my race time wasn't anything to brag about (Instead I just bragged and said "Yeah, I ran a half-marathon" and left it at that. If someone asked for my time I'd say "It was the fastest half-marathon I've run so far." If asked for more specifics, I'd just pretend to have a seizure).

At any rate, a good lesson I learned about the shirt: Make sure your name is prominent on it. Sure, now your stalker will know what your real first name is, but it's worth the risk.

If the cheering crowd sees your name, they'll YELL IT. Seriously, strangers will call out your name. And isn't it about time strangers yelled at you in public for something other than dressing funny?

Ten days until the Beach to Beacon. And yes, that realization this morning sent me into a heart-racing panic. Or maybe it was the four cups of coffee. Either way, I can admit I'm already nervous.

Here's where you say, "You can do it" and I say something self-deprecating like, "I'll probably be waving to the finish line from the back of an ambulance," or "I just hope I don't die."

Truth is, I know I can finish without emergency assistance and without a six pack dangling from a stick in front of me - just out of reach [pause here to give readers time to visualize].

I'll surely have to walk some of it. I've made great progress since April but I'm nowhere near running 6.whatever miles non-stop. And I'm cool with that.

My fear, however, is an out-of-nowhere debilitating cramp or nausea or fatigue that compels me to walk all of it, depressingly slow, training group long gone, and me, disappointed, crossing the line while the sponsors are folding up their tents. Optimistic, isn't it?

There are 5 good group runs to go - between the Reach the Beacon training and the Hannaford Tuesday runs - and these will help dictate my mood going into the 10K. No more Monster, no more Turbo (it's true) just me and the H20 (and some Clif bars and some Gatorade and some bagels and apples and, oh, gum. Gum helps keep my mouth from drying out and giving me that MUST HAVE WATER feeling).

I'm very confident the race will go well. At least, it should go fairly smoothly. It won't be awful anyway. The likelihood is that I'll cross the finish line of my own volition. Just in case things go sour, though, I'd like to be buried with my couch.

Last night was raining and crappy all over, but I'm hardcore remember, so I went to the group run anyway.

I'm glad I did - the rain kept all the (less hardcore) runners away from the Back Cove. Guess some people (sissies) just can't handle a little water. No judgment here (weak! They're weak!).

After realizing the dehydrating (and devastating) effects of the Monster energy drink, I opted for the old standard: water.

Trying to guzzle 20 ounces just before a run doesn't work (another learning) so it's a concerted effort to drink water all day. But wow, what a difference.

Last night's run was the best ever - 4 miles - nearly all of it without stopping. That's a first. I've always been reliant on the regular walk break. But last night Anna and I were both feeling strong and we kept up the pace for approx. 3 miles. Three miles!

Not a big deal for most runners. But dammit, it's a big deal to me.

First off - thanks for the comments on the "trial run" video. Even though I fake ran, it was a good bit of effort to put together. But I aim to please (that's not true - I aim to entertain - I displease often) so I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Yesterday evening I went to the Hannaford Beach to Beacon training (remember, I'm kicking July's arse and stepping up the training). They did have food at the end as rumored (well, if you consider bananas and unbelievably hard seed crackers food) but my stomach was in no mood for any newcomers at the end of that run.

You see, I'd found a new addiction (yes, the Dunkin Donuts Turbos were cast aside).

For the past few weeks I've been all about the Monster:

Last night I decided to drink one right before heading out to the Back Cove.

Not smart.

We ran (or were supposed to run) 3.5 miles. I was approx. 1.5 into it when my insides revolted. I rarely get cramps when running (though I do get pains in my clavicle. Yes, my collar bone...is that weird?) but this was a cramp to end all cramps.

You know that movie scene (I recall it from "Maximum Overdrive") where a lizard-like alien that's been growing in someone's belly starts moving around - then aggressively rips through the person's skin trying to get out (then, perhaps, jumps on the bar and starts singing show tunes)? It felt like that.

It wasn't fun.

I had to walk a few times - but ultimately was able to run it in with a time of 40:something. According to my poor math skills, it was about a 11.5-minute mile.

Personally, considering I must have given birth to six lizard-aliens along the way, I think 40 minutes is just fine.

Hello. My name is Shannon. It's been one week since my last blog entry.

It's been a hard recovery from Memorial Day weekend - and I was more than a little worried that the Thursday night run wouldn't go so well. My last outdoor run was...well...a while ago (having missed last Thursday's group run and having spent much of the holiday weekend carb-loading [which is just a nice way of saying eating, drinking and eating]).

So it was with trepidation that I started last night's run around the Back Cove. And yes, this time we were going the ENTIRE WAY AROUND.

And holy crap - who'd have thunk it - I knocked this run to the ground. Anna and I kept a consistent pace the whole way and only took three - very brief - walking breaks.

I was dumbfounded at first. How could this be? I'm still doing so many things wrong - not runnning nearly as often as the schedule suggests, etc.

But then I remembered what John Rogers (owner of the Maine Running Company and the guy leading the training) said to us back in April. It was something like, "Nutrition is important... yadda, yadda, yadda...don't get dehydrated...yadda, yadda, yadda...DON'T TAKE YOUR REST DAYS FOR GRANTED."

Epiphany! I'm not being lazy, I'm appreciating my weekly rest days - all six of them.

All I'm saying is, if it works, don't mess with it.

On a side note, Maine Running Company was just ranked one of the 50 Best Running Stores in America, by Runner's World Magazine.

Not bad, I say. Not bad.

There are plenty of reasons to avoid running in the morning. Here's one reason not to:

Feeling utterly guilty for my "no sun, no run" mentality last week, I felt compelled to get up early and run this morning. How could I not? I mean, LOOK OUTSIDE.

I've had trouble running in the mornings - I run out of energy after 10 minutes. For a while I couldn't understand it - my Thursday evening runs were going well.

Other than time of time day, what's the big difference? Food.

I'm just not hungry in the morning. A cup of coffee suits me just fine (until 10:00 a.m., of course, when the all-day grazing officially begins). I discovered during the Sea Dogs 5K that coffee isn't a good running fuel.

By the time 6:00 p.m. rolls around on Thursday, I've eaten the edible equivalent of a Volkswagen. And even though what I choose to consume might not be the most ideal, it still makes quite a difference.

So this morning I ate half a bagel and drank some water before I went out and wow what difference.

Lesson learned: My anorexic college roommate was wrong. Food IS my friend.

I'm a 100% backer of the group training movement. Maybe it's a dependency issue on my part - after the Beach to Beacon, maybe I'll work on that.

But for now I'll continue to marvel at the positive effects of peer pressure.

What? Thought peer pressure only revolved around booze, drugs and sex? Those things are nice too, but a little arm twisting might be just what you need to put down the tequila and go for a run (once you've sobered up, of course. Running drunk isn't as fun as it sounds).

And there's that camaraderie thing, too. It's nice to know that when I show up to a Thursday run and mumble something like "I don't like the sound of 'tempo run,'" I can count on someone nodding in agreement. "'Tempo run' sounds fast. I don't do fast."

The Thursday group is a good one - and Thursdays have become the upturn day on a quickly plummeting week. I rock on weekends - doing a long run and trying to keep the drinking to only the necessary minimum. On Monday I figure I just ran over the weekend, so I ought to take a rest.

On Tuesday it's either raining, or it's not. Either way, I don't run. Wednesday I work ridiculously early - can't run before work and too exhausted to run after.

By Thursday afternoon the good spirit from the weekend has been entirely quashed and I'm tinkering with the idea of pursuing a competitive eating career.

But it's Thursday - it's the group run day - and every week I go despite the imperfection of the previous three days.

Running with someone else makes all the difference. Instead of focusing on how tired you are or how slow you're going or how far the finish line is, you can get some decent face to face social time. I'm a talker by nature anyway, and while I can (and do) talk to myself regularly, I feel like I've heard all my stories before.

Talking (despite the panting) to someone else and hearing new stories and laughing at the people running the Back Cove in dress shoes makes the time fly by.

In fact, you might just get 5 miles under your belt without even realizing it, which is exactly what happened last night.

For a change of pace - and to work on speed - we ran from the Maine Running Company store to the Back Cove soccer fields. There we stepped up the pace and ran the field perimeter several times (running the straights, walking the curves). Around and around we went - and Anna and I chatted the whole way.

My perception of distance is non-existent, so when we were told that we'd run 5 miles (adding up the run to the field, around the field and back) I was pretty surprised. And impressed. And suddenly very tired.

See - I knew my incessant talking would come in handy one day.

And by "winner" I mean 1150th place.

If I wanted to be pessimistic, I'd say that 1,149 people are faster than me. But hey, I choose to focus on the bright side: I beat 289 people. (All race results here.)

I participated in the Sea Dogs Mother's Day 5K yesterday (since the training group was asked to run a 5K to test our progress). I ran again with Anna (also in the training group) and we tried to stick to the run 10/walk 2/run 9/walk 2/run 8/walk 2/etc. schedule that was so successful last Thursday.

Immediately I realized two things: 1) while coffee has water in it, it isn't a good pre-race hydrator, and 2) water is wonderful and I miss it when it's not around.

I was surprised to find no water available on the course (bad assumption on my part - I thought that's how it worked even in shorter races). After mile one (and the confirmation that water was, indeed, absent) I couldn't think of anything else.

I didn't run as surely as I might've had I not been focused on the ever-increasing drought in my mouth, but Anna ran strong and I was determined to keep up.

Finally - the finish line - and WATER! But wait - no water yet! We were corralled into a fenced in area that was intended to guide us toward water and food. We waited and waited and took a couple steps and waited some more.

People were not pleased - for while we stood panting and sweating and stinking to high heaven, runners who had already passed through the line sat in the stands above us guzzling water and casually chewing bananas. It was torture - and had I anything to throw, I likely would've tried to knock one of them out.

CAUTION: Heartfelt interjection ahead

But alas, it was Mother's Day. And since my mom is back in Illinois, I felt like the day's efforts were done partially in her honor. She says she's my No. 1 fan, but I'm a big fan of hers, too. [insert tears here.]

I'd be remiss not to also thank the little people who helped me accomplish this goal:

Without you guys I'd be sore, chafed and bleeding. Thanks for being greasy - or sticky - as needed.

Yesterday afternoon I was depressed. Much to the thanks of my stellar training diet, I was drained of energy, feeling crappy and in an all-around bad mood.

I knew, too, that some runners in the group had done the weekly Back Cove 5K on Wednesday and wouldn't be attending Thursday night's run. It was the perfect out. If I didn't show, people could just assume I was resting after an evening of record-breaking speed runs (or, at the least, that I jog-walked Back Cove).

But at the last minute I pulled out the dreaded running shorts that are still a little tighter than I'd like and went to the group run.

I'm happy to report that not only did I run/walk 4 miles - it was actually my best run yet! Thanks to the inspiration of Anna (who is also training and who runs in the same pace group) we opted to head out strong and taper off the running times - we ran 10 minutes - walked two - ran nine - walked two - ran eight...you get the idea.

It was a brilliant idea - and we managed to improve our pace this week to a 11.5-minute mile (from 13 last week). Woooiiieee!!

Unfortunately, the lure of my running shorts overshadowed a painful reminder of running in shorts in years past: THE CHAFING!

Halfway around Back Cove the skin on my inner thigh was rubbed nearly raw - and I was tempted to run "peed pants" style. But remember the hardcoreness!

I went four miles, dangit, and wasn't going to let the burning of raw flesh stop me!

Emotions are mixed this morning - while half of me is impressed I've been sticking with the schedule and not ditching the Thursday runs, I don't seem to be moving forward. For two weeks I've been running 3 miles at the run 7 minutes/walk two minutes pace (finishing in approx. 40 minutes - a 13-minute mile average).

For those of you not familiar with running and pacing, a 13-minute mile is really, really fast. For those of you who know that's a lie, stop laughing! I'm working on it!

At first I was thrilled to even run for seven minutes - that's no easy feet when you've been mostly sedentary all winter long. And I got swept up by thoughts of myself waking at dawn for a five-mile sprint through the streets of Portland - leaping over parked cars for fun.

So I'll admit some disappointment this week - I haven't improved by a second. The run is still rough - I'm still panting and red faced and tired before I finish. It's a sure sign I'm not ready to move forward.

But stop trying? Naw, I plan on kicking the Back Cove's arse...eventually.

Until this morning I was feeling confident in my training diligence. I've been following the schedule (mostly), steering clear of deep fried foods (on the whole)
and foregoing the afternoon nap (nearly 80% of the time).

But the group e-mail that went out yesterday afternoon from the folks at the Run Walk Company sent me into a near panic:

"I would like everyone to see where they are by participating in either the Weekly Back Cove 5K on Weds., May 9 @ 6pm or The Seadogs Mother’s Day 5K on Sunday, May 13th."

Ahhhhhhhh!

Running a timed race with other people is like the running world's version of truth serum - and I'm thinking that I'd rather not know the truth.

Oh dear, I'm feeling a little flushed...I think I'm coming down with something...Ebola maybe...