Mastering the Mountain, *OR* You CAN go home again

Summer is upon us.

Okay, those of you already raising your hands, ready to tout, "But the first day of summer is the Summer Solstice, which isn't until the June 21st!"... shut up. It was in the mid 90's last weekend. The sun rises before 6:00AM and doesn't set until 9:30PM. It's officially summer.

Summer has always been sacred to me, ever since I was a kid. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a prime motivating factor (okay, THE prime motivating factor) in my decision to become a teacher. But one thing that bums me out, as a runner, is the lack of summer races. Spring and fall are prime race season, because the weather is just mild enough to run a dozen miles without passing out or dying from heat stroke. Simply because of lack of opportunity, I'd never run a race in summer.

Until last weekend.

When the spring race season ended, I found myself without any running opportunities to look forward to until fall. Until I was clued into the Hatfield & McCoy Marathon and Half Marathon by a really cool guy named Alex Batausa.

Some background information: In case we've never met, I am from Eastern Kentucky; the heart of coal mining country. My wife Hillary and I both are, actually; we even went to the same high school, although she was way out of my league back then (she's still way out of my league, although she hasn't realized it yet). My parents still live and work there. It's a beautiful area, with lots of industry and tourism potential. Eastern Kentucky and western West Virginia are famous (infamous?) for the Hatfield & McCoy Feud, which, according to legend, was started when a member of one family stole a pig from a member of the other family. Given the price of organic, free-range pork these days, I can understand the animosity!

Alex is the president of the Tug Valley Road Runners Club, an organization in east Ky and west WV dedicated to helping runners come together, lift each other up, and, most importantly, run! He posted about the race in the Facebook group Runners Helping Runners, and my interest was piqued.

But I has my reservations. Because, as any runner knows, the bane of a runner's existence are hills. And this area doesn't just have hills; it has MOUNTAINS. The Hatfield & McCoy course runs right through the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. The race I was interested in was literally named the Blackberry Mountain Half Marathon, which included a mountain climb that makes the Boston Marathon's Heartbreak Hill look like a speed bump.

When "Note: Elevation change is significant" is written in bold, it's time to pay attention. 

But this was my last chance to run a real race before September. And it was a half held in my home town. Not to mention that I knew the course by heart, having driven it countless times with my parents (in fact, it nearly passes my grandparents' house). How could I NOT run it?

And, as there often is when it comes to my running, there was the family aspect.

Further background information for first-time readers of my blog: Our younger daughter, Zoe, was born with Spina Bifida. She's had several surgeries in her five years on this planet, and is scheduled for another later this week. The surgery will leave her feet in casts for at least three weeks, which will, of course, put a damper on summer fun for her because she won't be able get the casts wet. It's terribly unfortunate, but it's what needs to be done for her development.

Silver lining: the surgery date could not have come at a better time. It allowed us one last weekend to take the girls to visit my parents in eastern Kentucky during which Zoe could swim before her surgery. And it was the same weekend as the H&M half marathon.

And a weekend to trash Granddad and Grandmom's house. 

Hillary drove me to the starting line the morning of the race, because no one else wanted to get out of bed. Everyone wants to be your friend, until you have to wake up at six in the morning on summer vacation. That's when you find out who your true friends are. :P 

Taken by my wife, after she dropped me off at the start line. 

Appalachia sometimes gets a bad rep. It's the source of some really cruel stereotypes, most of which are completely unfounded. But I still maintain that its one of the most beautiful areas of the country, and home to some of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And this race only served to reinforce that belief. 

I'd never before started a race to a LITERAL starter's pistol, but race volunteers dressed in Hatfield/McCoy costumes fired into the air to send us on our way (Okay, it was actually a starer's rifle, but still really cool). 

As I mentioned before, I was a little nervous about running this race because of the change in elevation. And because my last race, the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, went really poorly because of lack of planning and training on my part. So I paid much closer attention to my training for this race. 

- More sleep the night before 

- No running the week before the race 

- Eat lots and lots of carbohydrates the night before 

- Drink more water along the course 

- Eat something for breakfast pre-race 

I love running, and I love experiments, but I had no idea if (or how much) each of these variables would affect my running. So I simply tried them all and hoped for the best. 

It was interesting, running  past scenery that was almost unchanged since my childhood. I passed a park where my old Boy Scout troop used to camp. A road where my high school chemistry teacher used to (and may still) live. A second-hand store where my parents had once bought a vintage table, which had sat in my first house for years. 

And, of course, Blackberry Mountain. 

Confession time. I didn't run the entire height of the mountain. I walked more than a portion uphill, and even a portion downhill (contrary to popular belief, downhill running is almost as difficult as uphill running, because of the extreme strain on knees and ankles). But, even so, I gave the race everything I had, passed from Kentucky into West Virginia, and crossed the finish line. 

I didn't enter the race expecting a personal record. I just wanted to have fun, see some interesting sights, and get a cool medal that looks like a mason jar. I especially wasn't expecting a stellar time since I had to make an... ahem... emergency port-o-potty transaction around mile 10. 

Free Gatorade is the real motivator. 

But then, what to my wondering eyes should appear: my FIRST EVER PLACEMENT IN A RACE!  

You can't tell from the picture, but that's the top of a one-quart mason jar. 

Yes, it was a small race (there were probably between 400 and 500 Blackberry Mountain Half participants), but I was extremely proud of myself. I might have actually done BETTER, were it not for my pesky intestinal distress. 

If I had to go back and chance anything about my training or race preparation, I'd have worn my over-the-calf compression socks. Blackberry Mountain sort of wrecked my calves, and more support could have made the difference. That, and I'll figure out a food/drink regiment to keep my stomach from staging a coupe in the middle of the race. 

I think I also owe a lot of the success to the organizers of the Hatfield & McCoy marathon weekend. They provided a fun atmosphere in a beautiful area of the country. There were plenty of hydration stations along the course (completely necessary, for the level of humidity as the race progressed), and lots of spectators and volunteers dressed up in costume to make the race feel as authentic as possible. 

I've often thought about organizing a race myself, one day, but the insanity of my life right now (full-time teacher, dad of two girls, soon to be dad of THREE girls) currently has my hands tied. Not to mention that I wouldn't even know where to start such a thing. I guess that's why there are people smarter than me at such things who put everything together, so people like me can run and sweat and laugh and goof off to our heart's content.  

If you organize such an event, be sure to include costumed participants. And mason jars. Mason jars are cool. 

It was a long, tiring weekend. But it was a GOOD weekend. I managed to squeeze in one last race before fall, the girls got to go swimming one last time before Zoe's surgery, and we all got to spend valuable time with family, which was the best reward. All without a single sunburn. 

Two tired kids = peaceful trip home for Mom and Dad 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm pretty much the most blessed man on the face of the planet. To have spent such an amazing weekend with my family, to invest in an area of Kentucky that will always feel like home, and to have the opportunity to do it again once we make it through Zoe's heel cord release surgery... I've been dealt a hand far greater than I deserve. 

Pray for us this week, reader, and especially pray for Zoe. The people at Cincinnati Children's Hospital are awesome, but parents always worry. 

God is good. All the time. 

Going Slow *OR* Dad's Night Off

This is my running blog, in case this is your first time here. And I'm addressing this post as though it is to all-new readers because, since it had been so long since my post, I assume all my old readers have headed off for greener pastures. 

Just so you know, I post lots of pictures, and lots of links. 

So, for old time's sake, I'll begin by talking about my most recent race: The Iron Horse Half Marathon in Midway, Kentucky, two weeks ago. Hillary ran it with me. And if this is your first time to this blog, as I assume, then you need to know that she is my wife. And the two of us went along two long, bumpy roads before we made our ways to each other. 

Was that enough links for you? I'll try not to use any more. 

The Iron Horse was a particularly good race for me! I ran my first sub-two-hour Half since 2010! And, though the MapMyRun picture shows slightly more than 2 hours, I'm taking into account that I was at the back of the pack, and that I ran slightly farther than the 13.1 miles (which can happen, because of bends and twists in the road). 

Since that race, I've only managed to run twice. It's party because my new responsibilities as stepdad to two awesome little girls take up a lot of my time. And it's not that I'm sorry for this! Far from it! Hillary and I are simply still learning to balance one another's schedules, plus getting the girls to school and daycare. 

Also, I've been sick lately. 

But, the other day, Faith made a card for me to help me feel better. 

I warned you: lots of pictures 

Since Wednesday night (it's currently Sunday night), I've had something that has left me feeling like the victim of a hit-and-run. Headaches, sore throat, coifing, chills, night sweats, dizziness. I realize the phrase "the whole nine yards" is overused, but I feel like it applies here better than more situations. 

But the weather was nice today. And I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. So I went for a run, sore throat and all. 

I did get a nice reward for my endurance. 

For the first time in quite a while, I am alone tonight. Hillary and Zoe, our youngest, are on their way to Nashville for Zoe's annual spina bifida clinic. Faith is spending the night with Hillary's folks, whom live waaaaaaay across the other side of our yard. 

So, for the first time in under a year, it's just me and my thoughts tonights. Which is partly what the run was for. 

Anyway, I did the first thing that came to my mind: watch Fellowship of the Ring on Blu-Ray and write a new blog post. 

Me and Strider. 

Right now, Hillary just checked in at a hotel in Nashville. Staying here, at our home, tonight without her feels like the loneliest place on earth. Even lonelier than arriving at the Prancing Pony and realizing Gandalf isn't there (sorry, still watching Fellowship). 

A year ago, I knew I wanted to propose to Hillary. I just hand't planned they when, where, or how. 

The last time Hillary drove to Nashville, in May 2013, her life had taken a terrifying turn to divorce that had left her a single mom. She and I had started communicating at the time, but we weren't dating. I probably can't imagine the fears that swirled around in her mind.  

As she was driving and I was heading to Kroger to pick up antibiotics (pharmacy was closed, blah), I kept her company on the phone. We talked about all the usual things we talk about when discussing our story: the sheer improbability of it, how we never could never have written a story so perfect even given the opportunity, and how much God's done in our lives. She drove by the old two where she lived with her ex-husband for almost a decade, and passed it by silently. No more crying for her when recalling her shattered former life.  

None for me, either. 

So here I am, writing and watching Lord of the Rings, still very much that geeky kid I've always been, but with far more than I deserve and having come through far more than I would have thought possible. Maybe all that flowery language comes from hearing too much elvish, but it's true. And, when I think about it, this house really isn't that lonely without all my girls in it. It's still got the life in it that they provide; it's simply quieter for one night. And, down two cups of tea, several Tylenol (to get rid of the chills), Motrin (to help the body aches), old antibiotics that I found on my side of the bathroom (finishing antibiotics is for chumps).  The nine companions band together to take the One Ring to be destroyed at Mount Doom. And I've been sitting here in my running-filth for a few hours. I need to shower, although I'll probably break into night sweats and have to re-shower in the morning. 

I'll edit this post tomorrow. 

Until then... fly, you fools! 

A Common Thread - OR - How Running Saved My Life

After a hiatus of not blogging about running on my running-themed blog, I'm finally back at it today. Give me a break; it's been a hectic summer!

Earlier this month, I was contacted by someone from Fanatics.com. If you've never checked them out, they're pretty much the unparalleled word in sports gear. A representative from the site mentioned that they'd heard of my blog, and wanted to know if my life (or the life of my family) had been significantly impacted by sports.

Oh, has it.

If you're a faithful follower of this blog, then you know that Hillary Smith and I were married two weeks ago.

Just by sheer volume of pictures, it may be the most documented wedding in history. 

What you may not be aware of is the role that running played in our lives individually and as a couple, and how we overcome great personal struggles by lacing up our shoes and hitting the road. 

I was married for the first time in 2010. My now ex-wife moved out of our house at the end of May, 2012. The months that followed were, without a doubt, the darkest of my life. You might remember a post from earlier this month in which I recapped that season, describing the pattern of self-loathing, depression, and destructive habits I picked up during that time.

I wasn't constantly looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle, though. I was still running. 

I had been a runner for years before that fateful time, so I was already pretty serious about the sport. But when my wife moved out, running became something more than an excuse to get out of the house and a reason to eat far more calories than I needed. Running became a form of therapy for me, the only way I could express the confusion and frustration and anger in a way that was healthy. Later in 2012, I ran my first marathon and completed my first Tough Mudder, two things I never thought I'd be able to do. 

I had just emerged from something called 'The Arctic Enema', if the blue lips didn't tip it off. 

Rock and Roll Las Vegas Marathon. I look way more enthusiastic in this picture. 

Running, probably literally, saved my life. 

Fast forward almost a year. An amazing girl that I had barely known in high school was going through her own personal version of hell. She, like me, was recently divorced, but after a decade of marriage instead of less than three years. 

I'm still not sure why I messaged her that day in April of 2013. But I'm lucky I did. She and I, it turned out, each needed a listening ear for the struggles our lives had thrown at us. And, coincidently, she was preparing for a 5K race the very next day. 

Hillary had barely run before her divorce. But she, like me, had chosen to pick up the sport as a way to wear away the edges of rage and sorrow that her life had recently gained. At the very least, the activity made us feel good about ourselves; something neither of us had felt in a long time. 

We spent more time together. We started dating. And our best, most involved dates were races we ran together. 

Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Shamrock Shuffle 3K: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon: Louisville, KY, April 2014 

When I decided to ask her to marry me, it only seemed fitting to ask her in our favorite running shop. I made sure it was okay with the people at John's Run/Walk Shop, and they were thrilled at the idea. One of their awesome employees was even nice enough to video it for it. It can be seen on their Facebook Page. 

We were finally married two weeks ago. The post before this one is dedicated to it, so check it out if you'd like.

Sometimes when I think about my life before the divorce, I feel as if I'm looking at a different person. He had no idea just how wrecked his life could get until it happened before his eyes. However, if I share anything with that past version of myself, it's my love of running. For a while, that thread was more like a lifeline; and, luckily, I met someone else who was on that lifeline, too. Now, it's a common thread that unites us and keeps us motivated, strong, and, most importantly, invested in each other's lives.

Oh, and I've already turned her into a Denver Broncos fan. As if I could possibly love her any more!

I'll have her in one of these this season. Just you wait. 

"The Long Run", or "Local Wildlife"

It's been just about a month since my last entry. I don't mean to have such a large hiatus between posts. It's not that there's been nothing going on in my personal life and running life; far from it. It's just been difficult to convince myself to make time for blogging. 

Here I am again: King of Excuses. All hail. 

As anyone not hibernating will be able to tell you, this last winter has been pretty much the worst winter in memory. When I was in middle and elementary school, circa 1994-96, eastern Kentucky was routinely buried under two feet of snow at a time. But the snows weren't as frequent, as cold, or as long-lived as this year. That's put a real hamper on my training for what is shaping up to be a very active spring season. 

Last Saturday, Hillary and I ran the Run The Bluegrass Half Marathon at Keeneland Race Track. Well, she did the 7-miler, and I did the half. But we shared the common thread that the race distance was the longest distance that each of us has run in months (since the weather turned foul, as a matter of fact). 

Despite warm weather earlier in the week, the high that day was 42 degrees F. And it rained. For pretty much the whole race. 

And, despite this, here we are, smiling like lunatics when all was said and done. 

The picture quality is so poor because my hands were shaking from the cold. 

I posted a time of 2' 16", a full two minutes faster than I did last year, despite the strong headwind pushing against me, the old, worn-out shoes I was wearing (didn't want the rain to ruin my good shoes), and, of course, the cold and driving rain. Even Hillary said she felt like her time on the seven-miler was her best racing time in months, even though the crappy weather had kept her inside, too. 

So we both are optimistic about our future spring races! Take that, winter! 

But we're also both still sore, six days later. 

Let me make one thing clear: I'm the least responsible runner ever. I run simply because it's fun. I rarely record my speeds and distances, NEVER keep training logs, and never follow training plans, even though I want to do better at longer races. And very rarely stretch before races. 

So, when I left on Monday morning for a mission trip with my youth group kids, I may have still been feeling the pains of the race. And then I maaaaay have worked all week around Aldersgate Camp in Ravenna, KY, further exacerbating these pains. 

It was a good week, thought. Without going into too much detail, we spend the week helping the camp catch up on some maintenance projects that needed done to prepare the camp for its upcoming week-long summer activities. Many of my youth kids have had intense spiritual experiences at this camp (some of the even gave their life to Christ there), so being able to give back in a meaningful way was a great experience for them. Not to mention that it got me off my lazy butt during spring break. 

Yesterday, we finished our work a little earlier than expected, which resulted in a little extra free time. My back and right ankle had been killing me all week, and I could think of no better panacea than some road therapy. So I laced up the beaten pair of shoes I had brought, put on the shorts I had worn to pain a fence two days prior, and hit the rural road. 

There was no ATT signal this deep in the mountains of Appalachia (big surprise), so my GPS couldn't create a map of the road. However, the GPS satellites were still able to track my speed and distance. So I ended up with this haunting path, through the middle of nowhere. 

It was a good distance, and I even made a pretty good pace (a little slower than 10min/mile). I was chased by dogs at two different places on the trip (almost no one deep in the mountains of Appalachia ties up their dogs, much to the chagrin of runners). At one point the road wound between two cow pastures, and every one of the beasts watched me as I ran by, which was more than a little creepy. 

And, after about two miles, I saw this big fellah. 

Though you can't tell from the picture, this guy was more than a foot long, from beak to tail. After I showed the picture to my youth kids, many of them asked why I didn't pick up this massive snapping turtle and bring him back to camp. 

Bear in mind: these are city kids, who have never seen what a snapping turtle can do. 

As I've mentioned in previous posts, running is a form of therapy for me. It gives me a few moments to be alone, mull over the events in my life, and put things into perspective. I also consider it an act of worship, because it puts me out in a beautiful world created by God, and gives me a while to simply focus on Him and my own footfalls. 

I realized how short life is, and how my youth kids are, one day, going to look back on that mission trip with very different eyes than I will. I hoped I was able to be a good leader to them (this week, and every week), and I hoped I did something that week that really showed them who God is. 

I realized how much I actually missed Hillary and the girls. Having no cell service all week killed my connection to them, but keeping busy almost every minute of every day had distracted me until that moment. Then, on the road, I realized how much I ached to hold her in my arms again, how much I wanted to curl up with Faith and play Adventures Ponies on the My Little Pony website (it's a real game: look it up), and how much I missed Zoe's tight little hugs and simple requests for more milk or another fruit bar. 

And, after that, I once again realized just how amazing and faithful God is. Memories of the past few years sometimes return when I run, but lately they've been coming in the form of thankfulness instead of regret. Thankfulness to God, for all He has brought me (us!) through in the past two years, and thankfulness for His ability to create beauty from a complete mess. And, of course, thankfulness to Hillary, for being willing to listen to the inklings of the Holy Spirit. Because if we both hadn't been listening at just the right time, I doubt our amazing present (and amazing future) together would have ever happened. 

As I was finishing the run, storm clouds were rolling in over the mountains. I said a fast prayer, asking God to hold off the rain until I was safely back at camp. It seems He was happy to oblige, because the real downpour didn't start until after I had been back in the cabin for around fifteen minutes. 

It has rained for two days straight. I don't really mind. Because there are going to be more sunny days to run, more races to train for, and more days when God holds off the storms until I've found cover. 

Thursday, January 16th, 2014: "Freezing My Butt Off" *or* "The Biggest Idiot Ever."

Okay, so I promise I actually have updated since October. I *tried* to post about my most recent Tough Mudder run, but I accidentally was logged into my Blogger account for my short story blog, Cut and Dry. So my most recent running post is there, as I am too tired at the moment to move it onto this blog. 

Not only that, why would I move an older post when I am now creating a fresh, NEW post!  

This concludes the "Biggest Idiot Ever" portion of the post. 

As for the "Freezing My Butt Off" portion: anyone living pretty much anywhere east of Texas and north of the Florida panhandle know what I'm talking about. America has been downright cold as of late, and I have only gotten the opportunity to run outside twice in the last month.  

And not only that, I'm starting to see the result of all the time I took off of running in the fall while I was perpetually ill. Like, around my waist line.  

So I've tackled my old nemesis, the treadmill, twice this week. In case you're unaware on my stance on treadmills, I described in an earlier post how much I'd rather be pounding some concrete that moving on a motorized belt. But, as I'm finding out, sometimes an outdoor run is just out of the question. I've not logged more than 4 miles at a time on the treadmill yet (I get bored easily, and my willpower runs out fast when I'm able to stop whenever I want without the penalty of having to run home), but I find myself getting a little better. At least I think I am, which is something. 

On a more exciting note, I recently got an email about the Kentucky Half Classic, two half marathons in Kentucky's two most beautiful cities, 21 days apart. I was actually already registered for the Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon and the Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon, so this came as a nice surprise! 

Tons of cool amenities will be given to people who finish both races! 

- A special finisher medal (in addition to the two medals for both races) 

- Half Classic food and drink booths and photo ops 

- Stickers for your race bib 

- And... most importantly... VIP TOILETS!! (This was a huge selling point for me, as I found the Kentucky Derby Festival Half in Louisville to be very short on port-o-potties). 

They're both phenomenal races, worth entering on their own merit. But the added incentive is simply too cool to pass up. 

On a serious note: I am seriously going to get back into this blog. I'm not sure how many fledgling runners out there I am actually helping, but keeping track of my running trials and errors is what keeps me on the road. When my blogging slacks off, my running slacks off, and vice versa. Even if I feel like dirt and have a crappy run, writing about it makes me want to get back out there and have a better run to make up for it. 

Not to mention that I have been blessed far beyond what I deserve, and sitting around being sedentary is no way to show my appreciation. I have a wonderful relationship with Hillary and the girls, and I've gotten to see a lot of them while work crews have been tearing out both the bathrooms in my house (it;s a long, messy story). 

Yes, the January is cold and dark, and usually my winter depression sits in about now. But I have these two bad boys to help me through. 

Sun lamp and space heater. With their powers combined... I am... a functioning human being! Oh, and the electric guitar behind them helps, too. 

Anyway, I hope this entry find you in good spirits, injury-free, ready to face the next mile. 

Tuesday, 7/23/13: Pains of Procrastination *PLUS* 2 New Product Reviews!

Yes, today is Tuesday. Yes, I'm posting about last Friday's run. I've been procrastinating.

I hate putting off posting my runs. 

This was my longest run since my last half marathon, at the end of April. Because I put off recording the run, I don't remember what the weather or temperature was like, or even when I started (that image says 6:38, but I'm pretty sure it was 5:38).  I did eat TWO energy products on the run (reviewed below!), so I'm sure that they helped with the excellent distance and pace. 

So, if there's one thing I can take from this experience, it's to post my runs immediately to make best use of all this data I'm collecting. 

In case you're keeping count, I'm up to 54.95 miles for the month of July. I still have a week left, and a lot of miles left to log!  

Anyway, about the things I ate on my most recent run.  

Jelly Belly Extreme Sport Beans 

Stats: 

 - Weight: 1 oz. 

 - Calories: 100

 Good Stuff: 

 - Potassium: 40mg 

 - Sodium: 80mg 

 - Carbs: 25mg 

 - Vitamins b1, b2, b3, and C (amount undermined, but the package claims they're in there). 

First of all: if you pick these up and expect the flavor of standard Jelly Belly beans, you will be sorely disappointed. As far as flavor goes, these are NASTY.  It's not just that they're salty, from their sodium content: they're sour, and not the good kind of sour, like Sour Patch Kids. The BAD kind of sour, like, "Oh man, these things aren't supposed to be sour.  Holy crap, these are nasty."  Also, I think I dropped half of them because I was trying to pour them into my mouth while running. I'm probably lucky I didn't choke.

And now, product number 2. 

(This is an old picture of the product. I actually had a grape flavored one) 

Cliff Kid Organic Z-Fruit Rope 

Stats: 

 - Weight: 0.7 oz

 - Calories: 70 

Good Stuff: 

 - Potassium: 120mg 

 - Sodium: 5mg

 - Carbs: 17mg 

 - Vitamin C: 20% daily value 

Maybe it was just the fact that I ate this after choking down a package of Sport Beans, but this one tasted AWESOME.  It's sweet chewability seemed to alleviate my thirst, which was also a major plus after the face-puckering sourness of the Sport Beans.  

Unfortunately, because I ate both of these on my run, I'm not able to give much analysis on the effectiveness of either of them alone.  However, the flavor alone may be enough to keep me from trying the "cherry" Sport Beans again. I'll have to try that product again in a different flavor.  However, if that's also terrible, I might be turned off of the product all together.  

Initial Sport Beans impression:  D (terrible flavor, awkward shapes, and the sharp corners on packaging poked me through my running shorts!) 

Initial Z-Fruit Rope impression: B-  (good taste, wish it had more calories and carbs, LOADED with potassium, and easy to fold into running shorts pocket).