In which I log my first DNS...
My husband Steve and I have been running Race for the Cure together for years. The race always falls some time near or on our anniversary, so it's a great time to spend together. I love the camaraderie of the atmosphere and am happy to run for such a good cause. This race would mark our fourth Quad Cities Race for the Cure, a number I can easily tally by counting the t-shirts in my head (pink and blue, pink and green, pink and ugly puce color, pink circle).
It was raining before we even left the house, and did not let up even a little bit all morning. Race for the Cure always attracts new runners and first-timers, and I was afraid that people would see the weather and stay home. Happily, that was not the case. The streets were crowded with eager runners, many of them in pink.
But the rain was the least of our problems: there was also lightning. The start time was postponed, but finally, volunteers with bullhorns directed everyone into the iwireless center. There, the race director announced that the race would have to be cancelled. He explained that after every flash of lightning, they were required to wait 30 minutes. After the last one, even if there was no more, they would no longer have the police support required for everyone to run safely. It was disappointing, but clearly, the only choice.
Steve and I took about a half mile run to get a cup of coffee. There's always next year.
Showing posts with label racing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racing. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Race Report: Mustang Madness 5K
In which I survived the heat... kind of
Yep, I am way behind on my posting, and I need to get into what's going on, but I'd hate to leave out a race report!
A few weeks ago, determined to feel better about my unfortunate experience in Madison, I signed up for the Mustang Madness 5K. It was on a Friday evening, which is novel, but the biggest appeal was that it was a cross country race! Cross country is always way more fun than running on a road or track, so I eagerly signed up.
The night of the race, it was brutally hot and humid. I knew a PR was not in the cards for me. That instinct was cemented when I took a warm-up on the course and saw how hilly and challenging it was going to be. I always say that if I'm not going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time, so I set out to do just that.
All of us lined up on a big white line painted on the grass. I can't tell you how many times I found myself in that very position during high school cross country meets, and it was a thrill to do it again.
The course wound through trails in the woods, around sports fields, and back through the woods again. Although it was well staffed with volunteers, there were no mile markers, so I had no idea how far I'd run or how I was doing - especially because my beloved Paula Garmin was lost.
The hot weather really took a toll on me - and on my fellow runners as well. I saw plenty of people, including some who I knew were strong runners, taking walk breaks. I did the same, because just slowing down didn't seem like it would be enough. I even took advantage of the water stop, something I never do in a 5K. The water was cold and tasted amazing.
After what felt like an eternity, I emerged from the woods, finish line in sight. Finally! I kicked to the line, sure that I'd finish in around 30 minutes. I was surprised to see the number 27 on the clock. When I wasn't walking, I must have been running a lot faster than I'd realized.
After the race, people hung out, ate bananas, and generally talked about how challenging and sweaty the race was. It was tough, but I'd absolutely do it again.
Yep, I am way behind on my posting, and I need to get into what's going on, but I'd hate to leave out a race report!
A few weeks ago, determined to feel better about my unfortunate experience in Madison, I signed up for the Mustang Madness 5K. It was on a Friday evening, which is novel, but the biggest appeal was that it was a cross country race! Cross country is always way more fun than running on a road or track, so I eagerly signed up.
The night of the race, it was brutally hot and humid. I knew a PR was not in the cards for me. That instinct was cemented when I took a warm-up on the course and saw how hilly and challenging it was going to be. I always say that if I'm not going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time, so I set out to do just that.
All of us lined up on a big white line painted on the grass. I can't tell you how many times I found myself in that very position during high school cross country meets, and it was a thrill to do it again.
The course wound through trails in the woods, around sports fields, and back through the woods again. Although it was well staffed with volunteers, there were no mile markers, so I had no idea how far I'd run or how I was doing - especially because my beloved Paula Garmin was lost.
The hot weather really took a toll on me - and on my fellow runners as well. I saw plenty of people, including some who I knew were strong runners, taking walk breaks. I did the same, because just slowing down didn't seem like it would be enough. I even took advantage of the water stop, something I never do in a 5K. The water was cold and tasted amazing.
After what felt like an eternity, I emerged from the woods, finish line in sight. Finally! I kicked to the line, sure that I'd finish in around 30 minutes. I was surprised to see the number 27 on the clock. When I wasn't walking, I must have been running a lot faster than I'd realized.
After the race, people hung out, ate bananas, and generally talked about how challenging and sweaty the race was. It was tough, but I'd absolutely do it again.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Race Report: St. Patrick's Day 5K
I ran the St. Patrick's Day 5K for the first time last year. I didn't really love the race, but I did love the fact that I got a sweet, sweet PR (23:44).
That time loomed large as I warmed up for the race. The fact of the matter is, I am not as fast as I was last year. The injury to my left shin last fall forced me to take quite a lot of time off, and I have been returning to running - and to speed work - very carefully and gradually. Last spring, I went into half marathon/trisko season chasing a PR and nailed it. My first trisko/half marathon of the 2010 season is The Abe Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon on April 4, and as much as I'd like to PR, I just don't know if I can do it. This race, I figured, would be a good way to set expectations.
The temperature was in the 40s, rainy, and a bit windy. That kind of weather yields a wide variety of clothing choices from other runners. I wore tights, a long sleeved shirt with my racing team singlet over it, and my racing team jacket. Teammate Missy wore the same thing, without the jacket, and Penny sported shorts. As always, the guys wore less - Frank just did the singlet and shorts, and I was cold just looking at him. Of course, the people who ran the race dressed as leprechauns probably would have done so regardless. In retrospect, I think Missy's outfit was perfect. By the time I finished the race, I was a bit hot, but not so hot that I would have wanted bare arms or legs.
We took off, and as I approached the first mile, I felt totally worn out. When I heard my split time, I knew why: 7:45. Way too fast! I made an effort to relax and slow down in the second mile, which I did, big time, at 8:48. By the third mile, I felt like I was crawling, though apparently I wasn't - 8:35. I sped up a bit for that last .1 and finished in 26:20. That's a totally respectable race time... if you don't know how much faster I ran it the year before.
I am really trying to keep things in perspective. When I finish my half marathon/trisko in a few weeks, the most important thing is for me to cross the finish line knowing I have done the best I possibly could on that day. Last spring, that was 1:56:51. This year, I am hoping for 2:05. It won't be my best ever, but it can be my best of the day.
That time loomed large as I warmed up for the race. The fact of the matter is, I am not as fast as I was last year. The injury to my left shin last fall forced me to take quite a lot of time off, and I have been returning to running - and to speed work - very carefully and gradually. Last spring, I went into half marathon/trisko season chasing a PR and nailed it. My first trisko/half marathon of the 2010 season is The Abe Lincoln Memorial Half Marathon on April 4, and as much as I'd like to PR, I just don't know if I can do it. This race, I figured, would be a good way to set expectations.
The temperature was in the 40s, rainy, and a bit windy. That kind of weather yields a wide variety of clothing choices from other runners. I wore tights, a long sleeved shirt with my racing team singlet over it, and my racing team jacket. Teammate Missy wore the same thing, without the jacket, and Penny sported shorts. As always, the guys wore less - Frank just did the singlet and shorts, and I was cold just looking at him. Of course, the people who ran the race dressed as leprechauns probably would have done so regardless. In retrospect, I think Missy's outfit was perfect. By the time I finished the race, I was a bit hot, but not so hot that I would have wanted bare arms or legs.
We took off, and as I approached the first mile, I felt totally worn out. When I heard my split time, I knew why: 7:45. Way too fast! I made an effort to relax and slow down in the second mile, which I did, big time, at 8:48. By the third mile, I felt like I was crawling, though apparently I wasn't - 8:35. I sped up a bit for that last .1 and finished in 26:20. That's a totally respectable race time... if you don't know how much faster I ran it the year before.
I am really trying to keep things in perspective. When I finish my half marathon/trisko in a few weeks, the most important thing is for me to cross the finish line knowing I have done the best I possibly could on that day. Last spring, that was 1:56:51. This year, I am hoping for 2:05. It won't be my best ever, but it can be my best of the day.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Victory Pose
In my last post, I shared a picture of myself crossing the finish line at the Chili Chase. In it, I am all business, which is exactly what my mental state was at that moment. I had just raced up a pretty steep hill to pass several other runners and was feeling the effects of the effort. I'm sure there was a smile on my face a second after that picture was taken, but in that moment, all I wanted was to get my foot on that mat.
My friend Tim, a recent convert to running, said that he always thinks about striking a pose as he crosses the finish line. He's partial to the Rocky:
and wonders, as a newbie runner, if it's appropriate. I told him that it's not only appropriate, but encouraged, but the more I think about it, there are some etiquette standards for victory poses when crossing the finish line. When Tim finished his first half marathon, then hell yes, he should rock the Rocky, but when I put in a solid effort at that four mile race, it would have been a tad much.
When can runners pull a victory pose like the Rocky, or its two armed variant? It's time to write the unwritten rules:
DO: Any time you finish a race of 13.1 miles or greater. You just accomplished something that most people will never do. I don't care how long it took you to finish that marathon; if you can get your arms over your head, do. Feel the triumph!
DON'T: When finishing an easy 3 mile training run around your neighborhood.
DO: After you set a hard-won PR. If you've been working your butt off to break 30 minutes (or 21 or 15 or 45 or whatever) in a 5K, and you just did it? Celebrate!
DON'T: If you took a walk break 20 meters ago and then just broke into a sprint to cross the finish line? People noticed it and we're not impressed.
DO: Just finished your first ever race? Welcome to the fraternity, my friend. Hoist your arms!
DON'T: If you just barely squeaked past another runner, then good job kicking it in, but throwing a Rocky seems like rubbing it in.
What about you? When do you think you can throw a victory pose?
My friend Tim, a recent convert to running, said that he always thinks about striking a pose as he crosses the finish line. He's partial to the Rocky:
and wonders, as a newbie runner, if it's appropriate. I told him that it's not only appropriate, but encouraged, but the more I think about it, there are some etiquette standards for victory poses when crossing the finish line. When Tim finished his first half marathon, then hell yes, he should rock the Rocky, but when I put in a solid effort at that four mile race, it would have been a tad much.
When can runners pull a victory pose like the Rocky, or its two armed variant? It's time to write the unwritten rules:
DO: Any time you finish a race of 13.1 miles or greater. You just accomplished something that most people will never do. I don't care how long it took you to finish that marathon; if you can get your arms over your head, do. Feel the triumph!
DON'T: When finishing an easy 3 mile training run around your neighborhood.
DO: After you set a hard-won PR. If you've been working your butt off to break 30 minutes (or 21 or 15 or 45 or whatever) in a 5K, and you just did it? Celebrate!
DON'T: If you took a walk break 20 meters ago and then just broke into a sprint to cross the finish line? People noticed it and we're not impressed.
DO: Just finished your first ever race? Welcome to the fraternity, my friend. Hoist your arms!
DON'T: If you just barely squeaked past another runner, then good job kicking it in, but throwing a Rocky seems like rubbing it in.
What about you? When do you think you can throw a victory pose?
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Race Report: Chili Chase
One sure way to kick those winter running doldrums is to sign up for a race. I ran the Chili Chase two years ago and had a great time, so I decided to run it again. And as an added bonus, this was my first race as a member of the Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team! I felt very proud to put on my uniform and was determined to do my team proud.I arrived early to help out with registration. I helped give out the technical socks that the race director offered in lieu of t-shirts. It's always great to have another pair of good running socks, plus these had a very cool bright green band on them with a little chili pepper. As an extra, we also had running gloves to give out. People loved the gloves, a simple lightweight cotton that are perfect on a day when it's cold, but not too cold. Volunteering was a lot of fun. I got to hang out with a cool group of people, plus I was able to say hello to lots of my fellow runners.
Fifteen minutes before race time, I said goodbye to the other volunteers working the table and went outside to warm up. The temperature was cold, in the 20s, but I was careful not to over dress for it, wearing tights, wind pants, a long-sleeved technical t with my team singlet over it, and my team jacket. For the first time, I pinned my race number to my leg, rather than to my shirt, in case I needed to unzip my jacket. It snowed later in the day, but luckily there were no weather obstacles on the course, save for one tiny patch of packed snow - with a volunteer whose job it was to tell everyone to be careful.
All the runners gathered at the starting line, which went down a long medium-steep hill. The race director warned us that what goes down must go up - in other words, enjoy this downhill, because you'll be running up it to the finish line.
I wasn't sure how the race was going to go. I have struggled to get in quality speed work this winter. The tracks aren't clear, and it's hard to do speed consistently on the road because the combination of ice, packed snow, loose snow, and slushy mess makes footing unpredictable. I am training for a half marathon in April, and I know I'll have the stamina, but I don't know how fast I'll go. So, I decided to relax, work hard on the hills, and see what happened. I put Paula Garmin on under my jacket so I could look if I wanted to, but not be distracted by my pace.
We took off, and it was a great time. There was an out and back portion of the course, so my fellow runners, friends, and team members and I cheered for each other as we went by.
In the last mile, things started to get interesting. I could see several runners ahead of me who were struggling with the hills. I have been training on hills all winter, but even without that advantage, I always try to pass people on hills whenever possible. It's a psychological thing; I can see other people are having trouble, and I tell myself (whether it's true or not) that I am strong on hills and can beat people.
I picked off three runners who were slowing down, then set my sights on more and more of them. I probably passed five or six runners in the last mile. In the end, I crossed the line with a time I was very happy with: 35:32.
The post-race party for the Chili Chase is always fun. There's great food - bbq sandwiches, chili, and beer. I had a bite to eat and hung out with friends. Out of curiosity, I checked the results to see where I placed. To my surprise, my effort was good for 34th place... super cool because the race director doesn't do age group awards for this race, but rather gives out awards for the overall top 35! I just made it. Better still, instead of a trophy, I got a bright green travel coffee mug with a chili pepper on it.
It was a great way to spend a Sunday and has me feeling good about the year of racing ahead.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Badass 800s
Bart Yasso, step aside: I have invented a new speed workout.
Bart invented the Yasso 800, in which a runner does a series of 800 meter track repeats which miraculously predict their marathon finishing time. Nice.
But the workout I've invented is much tougher: Badass 800s.
Yesterday (the day which running history will note as the dawn of this new test of mettle), I drove to a nearby park and did a short warmup. Then, I went to the top of a long hill, set Paula Garmin, and had at it.
A Badass 800 consists of running down that steep hill, around a pond (the icy patches are optional to the workout), then finishing by running up that same steep hill, a total of 800 meters.
Badass 800s help a runner build fast twitch muscles, practice running downhill without killing your quads or falling flat on your face, navigate an undulating path that's far from track-flat, then handle a steep uphill when you're fatigued.
In short, they make you totally badass.
Yesterday, I did 4 Badass 800 repeats and went home feeling pretty much invincible. As I look ahead to the 2010 racing season, I am going to conquer every hill that I see.
Bart invented the Yasso 800, in which a runner does a series of 800 meter track repeats which miraculously predict their marathon finishing time. Nice.
But the workout I've invented is much tougher: Badass 800s.
Yesterday (the day which running history will note as the dawn of this new test of mettle), I drove to a nearby park and did a short warmup. Then, I went to the top of a long hill, set Paula Garmin, and had at it.
A Badass 800 consists of running down that steep hill, around a pond (the icy patches are optional to the workout), then finishing by running up that same steep hill, a total of 800 meters.
Badass 800s help a runner build fast twitch muscles, practice running downhill without killing your quads or falling flat on your face, navigate an undulating path that's far from track-flat, then handle a steep uphill when you're fatigued.
In short, they make you totally badass.
Yesterday, I did 4 Badass 800 repeats and went home feeling pretty much invincible. As I look ahead to the 2010 racing season, I am going to conquer every hill that I see.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Making the team
One of my goals for 2009 was to get more involved in my local running community. Recently, I got some news that proves that I accomplished that mission.
In 2008, I applied for the Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team. I knew it was a long shot; I was new to the club and didn't really know anybody yet. But I loved the idea so I figured it was worth a try and sent in my application, along with an impassioned essay.
No such luck. In fact, I found out I didn't make the team on the very same day that I lost my job. Bummer, right?
This year, I applied again. I was hoping that the time I'd spend attending club events, getting to know my fellow runners, training with the club, and volunteering at a couple of races would make the difference. And, if not, I'd try again for the 2011 team - eventually, they'd have to cave and let me in.
It looks like they caved: I made the team!
We had our first meeting yesterday, and I am not exaggerating when I say that I was honored to be part of such a fantastic group of runners. The Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team is made up of runners of all age groups and abilities. They are people who I've watched get trophies at races, but also people who I've seen volunteering time and time again, supporting our fellow runners any way we can. Our team's goals are goals that are important to me as well - to promote the sport of running.
As a member of the team, I am going to enjoy some amazing benefits. I was issued a uniform, which I will wear every time I race: a singlet, shorts (which I may replace with a skirt), a sports bra, warm-up pants, a windbreaker, and a technical t-shirt to wear either when volunteering or when it's too chilly for the singlet. Best of all, it's my favorite color, red! I will also get a 20% discount at Running Wild, our fabulous local running store, and free or reduced entry to several local races. One of those local races is the Bix 7, and not only that, but our team gets elite entry. As in, "Hey, there, Meb and Joanie! Good morning, and I hope you enjoy kicking my ass in this race."
Our team does, of course, have to earn our keep. We are required to volunteer at at least six events a year. In particular, if we are running in a race for a free or reduced entry, the race director asks that we volunteer either before or after the race. I am more than happy to pitch in. Last year, I volunteered for two races, and I've been planning to do more. This sport has given a lot to me, and I want to make sure I give back as well.
I left the meeting feeling inspired, both to run my best and to promote my sport to everyone. I am proud of this accomplishment and everything that it represents.
In 2008, I applied for the Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team. I knew it was a long shot; I was new to the club and didn't really know anybody yet. But I loved the idea so I figured it was worth a try and sent in my application, along with an impassioned essay.
No such luck. In fact, I found out I didn't make the team on the very same day that I lost my job. Bummer, right?
This year, I applied again. I was hoping that the time I'd spend attending club events, getting to know my fellow runners, training with the club, and volunteering at a couple of races would make the difference. And, if not, I'd try again for the 2011 team - eventually, they'd have to cave and let me in.
It looks like they caved: I made the team!
We had our first meeting yesterday, and I am not exaggerating when I say that I was honored to be part of such a fantastic group of runners. The Cornbelt Running Club Racing Team is made up of runners of all age groups and abilities. They are people who I've watched get trophies at races, but also people who I've seen volunteering time and time again, supporting our fellow runners any way we can. Our team's goals are goals that are important to me as well - to promote the sport of running.
As a member of the team, I am going to enjoy some amazing benefits. I was issued a uniform, which I will wear every time I race: a singlet, shorts (which I may replace with a skirt), a sports bra, warm-up pants, a windbreaker, and a technical t-shirt to wear either when volunteering or when it's too chilly for the singlet. Best of all, it's my favorite color, red! I will also get a 20% discount at Running Wild, our fabulous local running store, and free or reduced entry to several local races. One of those local races is the Bix 7, and not only that, but our team gets elite entry. As in, "Hey, there, Meb and Joanie! Good morning, and I hope you enjoy kicking my ass in this race."
Our team does, of course, have to earn our keep. We are required to volunteer at at least six events a year. In particular, if we are running in a race for a free or reduced entry, the race director asks that we volunteer either before or after the race. I am more than happy to pitch in. Last year, I volunteered for two races, and I've been planning to do more. This sport has given a lot to me, and I want to make sure I give back as well.
I left the meeting feeling inspired, both to run my best and to promote my sport to everyone. I am proud of this accomplishment and everything that it represents.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Race Report: Frostbite Footrace 8K
Where we last left off, I was taking an unplanned rest day thanks to an achy knee, but still determined to run the 8K Frostbite Footrace to see how it felt.
I took some Advil and headed for the race, hoping for the best. The place was buzzing with runner friends of mine, including Sara and Jen, who I hadn't seen in months. I think everyone was excited about the first local race of the year - and the fact that the weather was so nice. Several people enthused about how warm it was, and that the weather should not be a factor at all in anyone's performance.
For those of you who don't live in the midwest, the temperature was about 20 degrees. Only a cold weather runner could look at a day like that and be happy to be running outside.
I lined up with Sara and Jen. "Are you ready for this?" they asked. I said that honestly, I probably wasn't. Because of my knee problems, I planned to run a relaxed race and see how I felt. I figured chances were pretty good that I'd end up having to take off another several days. I put my Garmin in my pocket so that I wouldn't be distracted by my pace, which I figured wout be slow.
And, bang! We were off! Jen, Sara, and I leapfrogged back and forth for the first 2 and a half miles - the two of them running together and me by myself (they're sisters and tend to stick together). The two of them stopped for water, and as I passed them, Jen said, "See, Sara? That's what you get for stopping. Now she's ahead of us."
Not for long, though, and the two of them passed me again.
I'll be honest: a huge part of me wanted to beat them. No matter what, it's hard to shut down that competitive spirit. But an even bigger part of me wanted my knee to not be hurt. The months I took off for my injured shin really bummed me out. So, I relaxed and tried my best to run my own race.
At about the halfway point, Jen pulled ahead of Sara and I caught up to her. Sara said she was okay and told me to go after Jen. I did my best, but it wasn't meant to be this time around. Sara was close behind me for quite a while, so I warned her about some of the big hills.
After a while, she was too far behind me... and Jen was too far in front of me. I was on my own. The race ends with a climb up a long, not too steep hill. I pushed it hard to the top, remembering how windy that same climb was last year.
Finally, I kicked it past another runner and into the chute. My finishing time astonished me - just shy of 45 minutes! That was far faster than I'd thought I was going; I guess keeping my Garmin in my pocket paid off, because otherwise, I might have slowed down.
Best of all? My knee is totally fine. On to the next run!
I took some Advil and headed for the race, hoping for the best. The place was buzzing with runner friends of mine, including Sara and Jen, who I hadn't seen in months. I think everyone was excited about the first local race of the year - and the fact that the weather was so nice. Several people enthused about how warm it was, and that the weather should not be a factor at all in anyone's performance.
For those of you who don't live in the midwest, the temperature was about 20 degrees. Only a cold weather runner could look at a day like that and be happy to be running outside.
I lined up with Sara and Jen. "Are you ready for this?" they asked. I said that honestly, I probably wasn't. Because of my knee problems, I planned to run a relaxed race and see how I felt. I figured chances were pretty good that I'd end up having to take off another several days. I put my Garmin in my pocket so that I wouldn't be distracted by my pace, which I figured wout be slow.
And, bang! We were off! Jen, Sara, and I leapfrogged back and forth for the first 2 and a half miles - the two of them running together and me by myself (they're sisters and tend to stick together). The two of them stopped for water, and as I passed them, Jen said, "See, Sara? That's what you get for stopping. Now she's ahead of us."
Not for long, though, and the two of them passed me again.
I'll be honest: a huge part of me wanted to beat them. No matter what, it's hard to shut down that competitive spirit. But an even bigger part of me wanted my knee to not be hurt. The months I took off for my injured shin really bummed me out. So, I relaxed and tried my best to run my own race.
At about the halfway point, Jen pulled ahead of Sara and I caught up to her. Sara said she was okay and told me to go after Jen. I did my best, but it wasn't meant to be this time around. Sara was close behind me for quite a while, so I warned her about some of the big hills.
After a while, she was too far behind me... and Jen was too far in front of me. I was on my own. The race ends with a climb up a long, not too steep hill. I pushed it hard to the top, remembering how windy that same climb was last year.
Finally, I kicked it past another runner and into the chute. My finishing time astonished me - just shy of 45 minutes! That was far faster than I'd thought I was going; I guess keeping my Garmin in my pocket paid off, because otherwise, I might have slowed down.
Best of all? My knee is totally fine. On to the next run!
Monday, January 11, 2010
10 for 2010
Yes, everybody's doing it, so let's all join hands, jump off this bridge together, and ponder our goals for 2010.
1. Run at least two half marathons in the spring and two in the fall. Last year, I did three in the spring and one in the fall. 13.1 is my favorite distance to race, and I'm going to continue to devote myself to it in 2010.
2. Set a PR in the half marathon. I don't care if it's one second; I want a new PR.
3. Set a PR in the 5K. I'm going to keep running this distance and want to keep shedding seconds as I go.
4. Run at least three new races. Yes, I said this last year and ran considerably more than three new races, but I'm keeping the number at 3 figuring that eventually I'll run out of new local races to tackle!
5. Strength training and core training at least twice a week. I am such a slacker about this, and for no good reason. It really doesn't take long, and I have everything I need at home to keep up a minimal routine.
6. Drink more water. Not so much while I'm running as during my day to day life. I really need to work on this one, just to be healthier overall.
7. Eat like an athlete. That doesn't mean that every single thing I eat will be healthy, but most of what I eat will be, and I want to think about the effects food has on my body and determine what makes the best fuel. And if I do that, I can eat the occasional homemade cookie with no guilt.
8. Incorporate more hills into training. When I go out for a run, I tend to keep it flat. No more. I'm going to come up with some standard 3 and 4 mile loops that include hills at different points in the route. I know that this will make me stronger.
9. Remember to actually wear my Road ID when I go out. In 2009, I was probably at about 75%, and that's not good enough.
10. Keep a training log. I'm devising my own training routine this spring based on FIRST and my race goals, very carefully following the 10% rule. The log will add even more structure and accountability to what I'm doing.
It's going to be a great year. What about you, Internet? What are you doing in 2010?
1. Run at least two half marathons in the spring and two in the fall. Last year, I did three in the spring and one in the fall. 13.1 is my favorite distance to race, and I'm going to continue to devote myself to it in 2010.
2. Set a PR in the half marathon. I don't care if it's one second; I want a new PR.
3. Set a PR in the 5K. I'm going to keep running this distance and want to keep shedding seconds as I go.
4. Run at least three new races. Yes, I said this last year and ran considerably more than three new races, but I'm keeping the number at 3 figuring that eventually I'll run out of new local races to tackle!
5. Strength training and core training at least twice a week. I am such a slacker about this, and for no good reason. It really doesn't take long, and I have everything I need at home to keep up a minimal routine.
6. Drink more water. Not so much while I'm running as during my day to day life. I really need to work on this one, just to be healthier overall.
7. Eat like an athlete. That doesn't mean that every single thing I eat will be healthy, but most of what I eat will be, and I want to think about the effects food has on my body and determine what makes the best fuel. And if I do that, I can eat the occasional homemade cookie with no guilt.
8. Incorporate more hills into training. When I go out for a run, I tend to keep it flat. No more. I'm going to come up with some standard 3 and 4 mile loops that include hills at different points in the route. I know that this will make me stronger.
9. Remember to actually wear my Road ID when I go out. In 2009, I was probably at about 75%, and that's not good enough.
10. Keep a training log. I'm devising my own training routine this spring based on FIRST and my race goals, very carefully following the 10% rule. The log will add even more structure and accountability to what I'm doing.
It's going to be a great year. What about you, Internet? What are you doing in 2010?
Monday, December 21, 2009
2009 report card
At the end of last year, I posted some running goals for myself. How’d I do?
1. Run at least two half marathons triskos. Set new trisko PR of 2 hours or less (down from 2:05).
Goal OBLITERATED! I ran four half marathons in 2009, three of them in a 29 day period, earning me a spot in the Half Fanatics. Of those four triskos, the first was the best, with a finishing time of 1:56:51. Boo-yah!
2. Run at least one marathon, setting a PR of 4:30 or less (down from 4:38).
Goal FAILED! As awesome as I was at Goal #1, the second was not meant to be. I started a new job in February, which requires frequent travel. I do run while I’m on the road, but when I’m home on weekends, I don’t want to ditch Steve and Jack to go run 20 miles. I’m sure I’ll tackle the marathon again some day, but at this point, I’m not called to it. The half marathon is my favorite distance, not only because it suits my lifestyle, but because I feel like I can more successfully race it, not just survive it.
3. Get a Fuel Belt and a Road ID. That should be easy enough, but they are important things to do nevertheless.
Goal accomplished, and I’m glad I did. The Fuel Belt has given me the freedom to explore a bit more on my long runs, to go further afield of my house and the bottle of Gatorade that was always waiting at the end of my driveway. And that’s been great. And because I have been running while travelling, the Road ID gives me a little bit more peace of mind.
4. Run at least three new races.
Betsy SMASH puny race goal! In 2009, I ran 13 new races: an indoor track meet (one event, three races, so I am counting it as three), the Frostbite Footrace, the St. Patrick’s Day 5K, Steve’s Old Time Tap Chaser 5K, Imagination Library 5K, the Madison Half Marathon, 13.1 Chicago, an outdoor track meet (one race), Run With Carl, the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and the Governor’s Cross Country two-mile. I do have to travel for my new job, but the wellness program sponsors 50% of my entry fees to local races, thus making it very appealing to check out new things.
5. Here's the big one: get more involved in running locally. I love my online running friends, but I also want to make some real life running friends. To that end, I am working to participate more in my local running club. I am also planning on joining the group track workouts on Tuesday nights, and anything else I can think of. I want to go to races and see people I know.
Done and done! I’ve been going to club meetings, joined training groups for the Quad Cities Distance Classic and the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and volunteered for a couple of races while I was injured, just to stay in touch. And it’s worked!
Thanks to a combination of goal 4 and goal 5, I got second place in my age group in my running club’s 2009 circuit. Fellow Runner JP gave me my t-shirt and medal, insisted on getting his picture taken with “my favorite age group, women from 30-39,” then later told me that he was really glad I’d come out and done so much running this year. I really feel like I’m part of something bigger, and it’s great.
I’m mulling over 2010 goals now, but in the meantime, I’m happy with how well 2009 has turned out.
1. Run at least two half marathons triskos. Set new trisko PR of 2 hours or less (down from 2:05).
Goal OBLITERATED! I ran four half marathons in 2009, three of them in a 29 day period, earning me a spot in the Half Fanatics. Of those four triskos, the first was the best, with a finishing time of 1:56:51. Boo-yah!
2. Run at least one marathon, setting a PR of 4:30 or less (down from 4:38).
Goal FAILED! As awesome as I was at Goal #1, the second was not meant to be. I started a new job in February, which requires frequent travel. I do run while I’m on the road, but when I’m home on weekends, I don’t want to ditch Steve and Jack to go run 20 miles. I’m sure I’ll tackle the marathon again some day, but at this point, I’m not called to it. The half marathon is my favorite distance, not only because it suits my lifestyle, but because I feel like I can more successfully race it, not just survive it.
3. Get a Fuel Belt and a Road ID. That should be easy enough, but they are important things to do nevertheless.
Goal accomplished, and I’m glad I did. The Fuel Belt has given me the freedom to explore a bit more on my long runs, to go further afield of my house and the bottle of Gatorade that was always waiting at the end of my driveway. And that’s been great. And because I have been running while travelling, the Road ID gives me a little bit more peace of mind.
4. Run at least three new races.
Betsy SMASH puny race goal! In 2009, I ran 13 new races: an indoor track meet (one event, three races, so I am counting it as three), the Frostbite Footrace, the St. Patrick’s Day 5K, Steve’s Old Time Tap Chaser 5K, Imagination Library 5K, the Madison Half Marathon, 13.1 Chicago, an outdoor track meet (one race), Run With Carl, the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and the Governor’s Cross Country two-mile. I do have to travel for my new job, but the wellness program sponsors 50% of my entry fees to local races, thus making it very appealing to check out new things.
5. Here's the big one: get more involved in running locally. I love my online running friends, but I also want to make some real life running friends. To that end, I am working to participate more in my local running club. I am also planning on joining the group track workouts on Tuesday nights, and anything else I can think of. I want to go to races and see people I know.
Done and done! I’ve been going to club meetings, joined training groups for the Quad Cities Distance Classic and the Quad Cities Half Marathon, and volunteered for a couple of races while I was injured, just to stay in touch. And it’s worked!
Thanks to a combination of goal 4 and goal 5, I got second place in my age group in my running club’s 2009 circuit. Fellow Runner JP gave me my t-shirt and medal, insisted on getting his picture taken with “my favorite age group, women from 30-39,” then later told me that he was really glad I’d come out and done so much running this year. I really feel like I’m part of something bigger, and it’s great.
I’m mulling over 2010 goals now, but in the meantime, I’m happy with how well 2009 has turned out.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Last race of 2009
I often find myself grateful that I'm a runner. That feeling was especially strong last week, when I ran my last race of 2009.
Especially because that race wasn't an actual sanctioned race, but more accurately, a race through the airport.
I'd just finished a challenging, but hopefully productive trip to New Jersey for work and was eager to get home. The meeting ran over, so I missed my first flight and got booked on a different airline. The flight from Newark to Chicago was delayed... and delayed... and delayed.
Slowly but surely, that 45 minute layover evaporated.
The pilot announced that many flights leaving Chicago were also delayed, so "All bets are off." As soon as we landed, I checked the flight to Moline on my phone and saw that, sure enough, it was delayed, too.
I had a chance.
I got off the plane as quickly as possible, groaned when I saw that I needed to get to a far away concourse, and started running.
I ran through Ohare airport in a long skirt, tall boots, and pearls, with my heavy laptop bag on my back. I ran past legions of amused looking travelers, along moving walkways, and up escalators.
All told, I ran a distance of probably a mile. It was really hard racing in my high heeled boots (feeling a rip in my stockings) with my zillion pound computer, and there was certainly no guarantee I'd make it before they closed the doors. I wanted to stop and walk, to just give up.
But because I'm a runner, I can do more than just physically move myself from Point A to Point B quickly. More importantly, I know how to keep going even when I want to quit. I know how to motivate myself and push through. I thought of Steve and Jack and how if I kept running, then maybe I'd see them that night, but that if I quit, I definitely would not.
You know how this story ends: I made it. I made it because I'm a runner.
Especially because that race wasn't an actual sanctioned race, but more accurately, a race through the airport.
I'd just finished a challenging, but hopefully productive trip to New Jersey for work and was eager to get home. The meeting ran over, so I missed my first flight and got booked on a different airline. The flight from Newark to Chicago was delayed... and delayed... and delayed.
Slowly but surely, that 45 minute layover evaporated.
The pilot announced that many flights leaving Chicago were also delayed, so "All bets are off." As soon as we landed, I checked the flight to Moline on my phone and saw that, sure enough, it was delayed, too.
I had a chance.
I got off the plane as quickly as possible, groaned when I saw that I needed to get to a far away concourse, and started running.
I ran through Ohare airport in a long skirt, tall boots, and pearls, with my heavy laptop bag on my back. I ran past legions of amused looking travelers, along moving walkways, and up escalators.
All told, I ran a distance of probably a mile. It was really hard racing in my high heeled boots (feeling a rip in my stockings) with my zillion pound computer, and there was certainly no guarantee I'd make it before they closed the doors. I wanted to stop and walk, to just give up.
But because I'm a runner, I can do more than just physically move myself from Point A to Point B quickly. More importantly, I know how to keep going even when I want to quit. I know how to motivate myself and push through. I thought of Steve and Jack and how if I kept running, then maybe I'd see them that night, but that if I quit, I definitely would not.
You know how this story ends: I made it. I made it because I'm a runner.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Race Report: Pumpkin Dash
Once again, we have a race report in which I am not actually racing. Hopefully this will not be too common of an occurance.
On Saturday afternoon, I volunteered to help with packet pick-up for the Pumpkin Dash. If you're a runner and have never volunteered for a race, then you should. It's definitely good running karma, and it's really a lot of fun. I basically hung out for a couple hours at my running club's offices, gave people bibs and t-shirts, took some money, and talked about running with friends. What's not to like? Plus I got one of the race t-shirts for my troubles, and it's really cool: a long-sleeved technical shirt with cool pumpkins and scarecrows on it! I have to admit, the fact that I'd be scoring a long-sleeved technical shirt was about 20% of why I wanted to volunteer! After my shift ended, I went next door to the running store and got a pair of inserts for my shoes, as recommended by my orthopedist. They are lovely and cushy.
Sunday morning, Steve decided at the last minute to run the 4K race (there was also an 8K), so the boys and I got dressed and headed out. The race was held at Credit Island Park, and I was immediately bombarded with sense memories of cross country races that I ran there in high school. There was a picnic shelter that I specifically remember standing by while my teammates and I cheered on the boys' team. It's a really pretty place on the Mississippi River, and it was a perfect fall day - great for running!
Steve headed to the starting line, and Jack and I walked about 3/4 of a mile away so we could find a spot to cheer for the runners that was away from everybody else. Steve almost missed us - he had his iPod on and wasn't expecting his cheerleaders to be in a spot so early in the race.
After we cheered for all of the runners, then all of the walkers, we moved to a spot near the finish line. We got to see the 8K leaders cruising past the 4K finish line, then started clapping for the 4K finishers. When Steve approached, I held up Jack and the two of us started yelling for him. Steve gestured for Jack to join him, and they crossed the pumpkin-lined finish together. Steve did very well, beating his goal of 10 minute miles.
Half an hour later, it was time for Jack to run the kids' race. Costumes were encouraged, and really, it doesn't take much to encourage Jack to wear a costume. In fact, he has so many that it's nice to have the opportunity to rock out more costumes than just the one worn trick-or-treating. For the race, he selected his Venom costume. People got a kick out of it because it has built-in muscles and Jack looked totally ripped.
Steve and I walked Jack to the starting line and showed him the cone that was the turnaround point. After some good luck hugs, we went to the sidelines to watch him. As always, I absolutely love watching Jack run. He has a look of pure joy as he races along, one that I always try to bring to mind when I'm struggling with a tough run myself. Jack ran great, smiling all the way, then happily collecting his finisher's medal, adorned with pumpkins.
That night, I decided it was time to attempt some running of my own. I set my Garmin (praise be thy name) to beep at me every five minutes. The plan was to walk five, then slowly run five - and to stay on the grass as much as possible - for 20 minutes.
How'd it go? Results inconclusive. The biggest thing is that running didn't feel quite natural. It was like I had a weight on my left leg and my stride never felt quite right. In retrospect, it wasn't the best day to try running again. I was on my feet all day in ballet flats, so my feet were tired before I started. I'm going to try the five-five 20 minute test again tonight, after a relaxing day of sitting at my desk. Right now, I'm not optimistic, but I want to try so I can really see what I'm up against. Wish me luck!
On Saturday afternoon, I volunteered to help with packet pick-up for the Pumpkin Dash. If you're a runner and have never volunteered for a race, then you should. It's definitely good running karma, and it's really a lot of fun. I basically hung out for a couple hours at my running club's offices, gave people bibs and t-shirts, took some money, and talked about running with friends. What's not to like? Plus I got one of the race t-shirts for my troubles, and it's really cool: a long-sleeved technical shirt with cool pumpkins and scarecrows on it! I have to admit, the fact that I'd be scoring a long-sleeved technical shirt was about 20% of why I wanted to volunteer! After my shift ended, I went next door to the running store and got a pair of inserts for my shoes, as recommended by my orthopedist. They are lovely and cushy.
Sunday morning, Steve decided at the last minute to run the 4K race (there was also an 8K), so the boys and I got dressed and headed out. The race was held at Credit Island Park, and I was immediately bombarded with sense memories of cross country races that I ran there in high school. There was a picnic shelter that I specifically remember standing by while my teammates and I cheered on the boys' team. It's a really pretty place on the Mississippi River, and it was a perfect fall day - great for running!
Steve headed to the starting line, and Jack and I walked about 3/4 of a mile away so we could find a spot to cheer for the runners that was away from everybody else. Steve almost missed us - he had his iPod on and wasn't expecting his cheerleaders to be in a spot so early in the race.
After we cheered for all of the runners, then all of the walkers, we moved to a spot near the finish line. We got to see the 8K leaders cruising past the 4K finish line, then started clapping for the 4K finishers. When Steve approached, I held up Jack and the two of us started yelling for him. Steve gestured for Jack to join him, and they crossed the pumpkin-lined finish together. Steve did very well, beating his goal of 10 minute miles.
Half an hour later, it was time for Jack to run the kids' race. Costumes were encouraged, and really, it doesn't take much to encourage Jack to wear a costume. In fact, he has so many that it's nice to have the opportunity to rock out more costumes than just the one worn trick-or-treating. For the race, he selected his Venom costume. People got a kick out of it because it has built-in muscles and Jack looked totally ripped.
Steve and I walked Jack to the starting line and showed him the cone that was the turnaround point. After some good luck hugs, we went to the sidelines to watch him. As always, I absolutely love watching Jack run. He has a look of pure joy as he races along, one that I always try to bring to mind when I'm struggling with a tough run myself. Jack ran great, smiling all the way, then happily collecting his finisher's medal, adorned with pumpkins.
That night, I decided it was time to attempt some running of my own. I set my Garmin (praise be thy name) to beep at me every five minutes. The plan was to walk five, then slowly run five - and to stay on the grass as much as possible - for 20 minutes.
How'd it go? Results inconclusive. The biggest thing is that running didn't feel quite natural. It was like I had a weight on my left leg and my stride never felt quite right. In retrospect, it wasn't the best day to try running again. I was on my feet all day in ballet flats, so my feet were tired before I started. I'm going to try the five-five 20 minute test again tonight, after a relaxing day of sitting at my desk. Right now, I'm not optimistic, but I want to try so I can really see what I'm up against. Wish me luck!
Monday, October 12, 2009
Race Report: Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic
Here's a first for me: a race report with no actual racing involved, at least not on my part.
Friends, my leg is still in bad shape. It still hurts when I walk, stairs are still tricky, and going from sitting on the floor to a standing position is more challenging now than it was when I was pregnant. The situation really blows. Not only am I without the outlet of running, but let's not forget: my leg hurts. It's not especially bad, and I'm not taking anything for it, but it's a constant reminder of something I'd rather not think about.
That's a long way of explaining that no way was I going to be able to run the Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic, a 5 and 10K race put on by my running club on Sunday. Instead, I asked the race director if I could volunteer.
Race Day preparations were not especially different for me. I still woke up early, drank coffee, and hada light breakfast. I still gave some thought to what I'd wear. It was very cold outside, probably in the 40s, so I put on a comfy pair of track pants, knee socks (cotton, argyle, cute and totally inappropriate for running), a long-sleeved t-shirt (cotton, totally inappropriate for running), a sweatshirt that I planned to exchange for the race shirt when I arrived (again, inappropriate), a striped hat, and at the last minute, a pair of thin gloves.
The race was held at a pretty park along the Mississippi River and had a bike path that I should check out some time soon. The race director told me that I'd been assigned to work the finish line, removing chips from the runners' shoes. Cool! I helped set up the timing mat at the starting line, then busied myself with chatting with my running friends. For the first time ever, I stood off to the side while my fellow runners lined up to start and watched them take off.
When the runners were away, it was strangely quiet in our part of the park. What had been a hive of activity was just a handful of people. After a few minutes, we rolled up the starting map. Then I killed some time by drinking a cup of hot cider. We chatted about when the first 5K finishers would cross the line; everybody figured that based on the field, it would be around 17 minutes. With just shy of 15 minutes on the clock, I took my position on a folding chair in the finishing chute, along with two other volunteers.
Sure enough, shortly after the 17 minute mark, the first finisher crossed the line, well ahead of the runner in second place. From then on, we were steadily busy. Chip removal was a great job to have. I got to watch every single runner cross the finish line, chat with the other volunteers, admire really cute running outfits (which would probably only happen when all three volunteers were women), and cheer for everybody, especially my friends.
The only drawback is that it got really cold. I could have used an extra pair of socks, as my toes were getting numb. One of my running friends brought me a cup of hot coffee and thus proved himself to be a special kind of running angel, a running angel who doesn't help fellow runners, but instead, icy volunteers.
The 10K finishers started to slow up, and after a while, we heard that there were only two women left on the course. I moved my chair closer up to the finishing line, and the other two volunteers departed. It was the first time I'd ever been there to see someone finish last in a race, and I'm happy to say that the women with that distinction crossed the finish line with an exhilarated smile on her face. I sat around for a few minutes, rather than yelling, "Okay, last place just cross the line. Let's pack this up!" That smiling runner had just finished a 10K, maybe her first. I wanted her to enjoy her moment no matter how many runners finished ahead of her.
After the race was over, I dove into a huge catered breakfast that was free for all of the volunteers and runners. There were eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, and muffins. The food was delicious, and everyone had fun hanging around eating, despite the cold.
Just like I do when I finish a race, I am already making plans for my next. I am afraid that, in two weeks, I am still not going to be up to running, not even a slow 4K. But I can get out there and help my fellow runners by volunteering. I know that, in time, I'll be back there toeing the line with the others. Until that day comes, I want to bank some karma by giving back.
Friends, my leg is still in bad shape. It still hurts when I walk, stairs are still tricky, and going from sitting on the floor to a standing position is more challenging now than it was when I was pregnant. The situation really blows. Not only am I without the outlet of running, but let's not forget: my leg hurts. It's not especially bad, and I'm not taking anything for it, but it's a constant reminder of something I'd rather not think about.
That's a long way of explaining that no way was I going to be able to run the Nancy Kapheim Memorial Classic, a 5 and 10K race put on by my running club on Sunday. Instead, I asked the race director if I could volunteer.
Race Day preparations were not especially different for me. I still woke up early, drank coffee, and hada light breakfast. I still gave some thought to what I'd wear. It was very cold outside, probably in the 40s, so I put on a comfy pair of track pants, knee socks (cotton, argyle, cute and totally inappropriate for running), a long-sleeved t-shirt (cotton, totally inappropriate for running), a sweatshirt that I planned to exchange for the race shirt when I arrived (again, inappropriate), a striped hat, and at the last minute, a pair of thin gloves.
The race was held at a pretty park along the Mississippi River and had a bike path that I should check out some time soon. The race director told me that I'd been assigned to work the finish line, removing chips from the runners' shoes. Cool! I helped set up the timing mat at the starting line, then busied myself with chatting with my running friends. For the first time ever, I stood off to the side while my fellow runners lined up to start and watched them take off.
When the runners were away, it was strangely quiet in our part of the park. What had been a hive of activity was just a handful of people. After a few minutes, we rolled up the starting map. Then I killed some time by drinking a cup of hot cider. We chatted about when the first 5K finishers would cross the line; everybody figured that based on the field, it would be around 17 minutes. With just shy of 15 minutes on the clock, I took my position on a folding chair in the finishing chute, along with two other volunteers.
Sure enough, shortly after the 17 minute mark, the first finisher crossed the line, well ahead of the runner in second place. From then on, we were steadily busy. Chip removal was a great job to have. I got to watch every single runner cross the finish line, chat with the other volunteers, admire really cute running outfits (which would probably only happen when all three volunteers were women), and cheer for everybody, especially my friends.
The only drawback is that it got really cold. I could have used an extra pair of socks, as my toes were getting numb. One of my running friends brought me a cup of hot coffee and thus proved himself to be a special kind of running angel, a running angel who doesn't help fellow runners, but instead, icy volunteers.
The 10K finishers started to slow up, and after a while, we heard that there were only two women left on the course. I moved my chair closer up to the finishing line, and the other two volunteers departed. It was the first time I'd ever been there to see someone finish last in a race, and I'm happy to say that the women with that distinction crossed the finish line with an exhilarated smile on her face. I sat around for a few minutes, rather than yelling, "Okay, last place just cross the line. Let's pack this up!" That smiling runner had just finished a 10K, maybe her first. I wanted her to enjoy her moment no matter how many runners finished ahead of her.
After the race was over, I dove into a huge catered breakfast that was free for all of the volunteers and runners. There were eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, pancakes, cinnamon rolls, and muffins. The food was delicious, and everyone had fun hanging around eating, despite the cold.
Just like I do when I finish a race, I am already making plans for my next. I am afraid that, in two weeks, I am still not going to be up to running, not even a slow 4K. But I can get out there and help my fellow runners by volunteering. I know that, in time, I'll be back there toeing the line with the others. Until that day comes, I want to bank some karma by giving back.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Race Report: Bix 7
I had big plans for this year's Bix 7. I was going to smash my PR of 1:06:58 and run it in 1:03. I was pretty sure I could do it - I recently ran a 10 miler at 9:02 pace. Subtract three miles and add in crowds and hills, and it seemed challenging, but possible.
But plans change. What was going to be a tough race turned into a weekend of running with my guys.
Friday night was the Junior Bix. Jack was incredibly pumped for his race. I got him dressed in his Quad Cities Micro Marathon t-shirt, since Jack is certainly not going to run wearing the race t-shirt, a fact that the vast majority of the other kids were clearly unaware of. Amateurs! On the walk from the car to the starting line, Jack asked me at least three times if I would run the race with him. Every time, I answered, "Yes, if you want me to. Or if you want to run by yourself, that's fine too."
Jack insisted that we would run together - and we did, holding hands the whole way. Running with Jack is good for my spirit. All I need to do is see the joy on his face as he races to the finish line and the pride he feels upon finishing and I am reminded of my own love for the sport.
As for Steve, he was more nervous about the big race on Saturday. Last year, he ran the race despite not training well, and he suffered for it. Steve announced months ago that his goal was to run the Bix without feeling like he was going to die afterwards - and enlisted me as his coach. I put him through a series of long runs of gradually increasing distances, intermixed with the Gentleman's Three (a relaxed three-miler) and 5K's for fun. We also ran the Bix at Six training run a few weeks prior to the race, so I knew he could do it.
Steve was less confident and asked me if I would run the race with him. That was not my plan, and as visions of my 1:03 finish faded away, I said, "Um, do you want me to?" He nodded and said, "I'm asking you to." It was clear that he needed me, for moral support at least, so I agreed to run the Bix not as a racer, but instead as a coach.
Race morning! Steve woke up feeling more excited than nervous. He declared that his goal was to run the race at 12:00 pace - a more ambitious goal than "finish and not want to die," but one I was sure he could achieve. I made sure he had a good breakfast, both water and coffee,and a couple of Advil. Then we engaged in my favorite pre-race ritual of people watching - cute couples ready to run together, gaunt high school cross country boys, a shirtless guy in denim shorts, and spectators smoking cigarettes and squinting at us uncomprehendingly. The Bix is held at the end of July every year, and really, the end of July in the Midwest is a typically horrible time for running. But the weather was unseasonably cool, in the 70s, with delightful breezes. It was a great day to run, and I wondered if course records would be set.
The gun went off, and about ten minutes later, we crossed the starting line and began our assent of the Brady Street hill. The hill is about 1/4 mile long, with a challenging grade. We spent a lot of time weaving around people who apparently decided to walk it while standing shoulder to shoulder with five of their closest friends. We finished the first mile in just over 12:00, which is excellent given both the hill and the crowds.
Steve was relaxed and comfortable in the second mile. We saw Meb Keflezighi looking fantastic with a huge lead (he went on to win with a blazing time of 32:25). I later found out that Magdalena Lewy Boulet was also racing. It felt great to be running the very same race as such elite athletes! Equally cool, we ran mile two behind a phalanx of firefighters that included two who had been injured in the line of duty and were racing in wheelchairs. At the two mile mark, I heard another runner remark, "That was only two miles? You've got to be kidding me!" Steve still looked great.
People talk about the Brady Street hill when they talk about the Bix, probably because it's big and at the very start of the race. But to me, the hardest part of the course comes in the third and fourth miles, where there are steep rolling hills. Steve was a little quieter, but was still running strong.
At around mile five, Steve asked me to run a little slower. I was proud of him for opting to do that, rather than walking. I babbled away, hoping to distract him by making up a plot for "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" in which the gang runs a 5K. Steve told me later that it was obvious that I was trying to distract him, but that he appreciated it nevertheless. When I told him we had just a mile and a half to go, he was thrilled, not having realized we'd crossed the five mile mark.
Soon, we turned to run back down the big hill. I advised Steve to relax and let the hill do some of the work for him. Some of the runners around us were clearly suffering, but Steve was hanging in there pretty well. I reminded him that we were almost finished, just a mile, less than a mile to go. "You've got this," I told him.
At the bottom of the hill, the finish line was in sight. Steve picked up his pace, knowing that the race was almost over. We crossed the finish line holding hands with a time of 1:19:48.
Steve's 2008 time was 1:33:51. Not only did he finish the race feeling strong, not only did he beat his 12:00 pace goal, but he shaved two minutes per mile off his previous pace! I could not be more proud of him.
My weekend may not have included the PR I was planning, but instead, I got to enjoy running with the two people I love most.
But plans change. What was going to be a tough race turned into a weekend of running with my guys.
Friday night was the Junior Bix. Jack was incredibly pumped for his race. I got him dressed in his Quad Cities Micro Marathon t-shirt, since Jack is certainly not going to run wearing the race t-shirt, a fact that the vast majority of the other kids were clearly unaware of. Amateurs! On the walk from the car to the starting line, Jack asked me at least three times if I would run the race with him. Every time, I answered, "Yes, if you want me to. Or if you want to run by yourself, that's fine too."
Jack insisted that we would run together - and we did, holding hands the whole way. Running with Jack is good for my spirit. All I need to do is see the joy on his face as he races to the finish line and the pride he feels upon finishing and I am reminded of my own love for the sport.
As for Steve, he was more nervous about the big race on Saturday. Last year, he ran the race despite not training well, and he suffered for it. Steve announced months ago that his goal was to run the Bix without feeling like he was going to die afterwards - and enlisted me as his coach. I put him through a series of long runs of gradually increasing distances, intermixed with the Gentleman's Three (a relaxed three-miler) and 5K's for fun. We also ran the Bix at Six training run a few weeks prior to the race, so I knew he could do it.
Steve was less confident and asked me if I would run the race with him. That was not my plan, and as visions of my 1:03 finish faded away, I said, "Um, do you want me to?" He nodded and said, "I'm asking you to." It was clear that he needed me, for moral support at least, so I agreed to run the Bix not as a racer, but instead as a coach.
Race morning! Steve woke up feeling more excited than nervous. He declared that his goal was to run the race at 12:00 pace - a more ambitious goal than "finish and not want to die," but one I was sure he could achieve. I made sure he had a good breakfast, both water and coffee,and a couple of Advil. Then we engaged in my favorite pre-race ritual of people watching - cute couples ready to run together, gaunt high school cross country boys, a shirtless guy in denim shorts, and spectators smoking cigarettes and squinting at us uncomprehendingly. The Bix is held at the end of July every year, and really, the end of July in the Midwest is a typically horrible time for running. But the weather was unseasonably cool, in the 70s, with delightful breezes. It was a great day to run, and I wondered if course records would be set.
The gun went off, and about ten minutes later, we crossed the starting line and began our assent of the Brady Street hill. The hill is about 1/4 mile long, with a challenging grade. We spent a lot of time weaving around people who apparently decided to walk it while standing shoulder to shoulder with five of their closest friends. We finished the first mile in just over 12:00, which is excellent given both the hill and the crowds.
Steve was relaxed and comfortable in the second mile. We saw Meb Keflezighi looking fantastic with a huge lead (he went on to win with a blazing time of 32:25). I later found out that Magdalena Lewy Boulet was also racing. It felt great to be running the very same race as such elite athletes! Equally cool, we ran mile two behind a phalanx of firefighters that included two who had been injured in the line of duty and were racing in wheelchairs. At the two mile mark, I heard another runner remark, "That was only two miles? You've got to be kidding me!" Steve still looked great.
People talk about the Brady Street hill when they talk about the Bix, probably because it's big and at the very start of the race. But to me, the hardest part of the course comes in the third and fourth miles, where there are steep rolling hills. Steve was a little quieter, but was still running strong.
At around mile five, Steve asked me to run a little slower. I was proud of him for opting to do that, rather than walking. I babbled away, hoping to distract him by making up a plot for "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" in which the gang runs a 5K. Steve told me later that it was obvious that I was trying to distract him, but that he appreciated it nevertheless. When I told him we had just a mile and a half to go, he was thrilled, not having realized we'd crossed the five mile mark.
Soon, we turned to run back down the big hill. I advised Steve to relax and let the hill do some of the work for him. Some of the runners around us were clearly suffering, but Steve was hanging in there pretty well. I reminded him that we were almost finished, just a mile, less than a mile to go. "You've got this," I told him.
At the bottom of the hill, the finish line was in sight. Steve picked up his pace, knowing that the race was almost over. We crossed the finish line holding hands with a time of 1:19:48.
Steve's 2008 time was 1:33:51. Not only did he finish the race feeling strong, not only did he beat his 12:00 pace goal, but he shaved two minutes per mile off his previous pace! I could not be more proud of him.
My weekend may not have included the PR I was planning, but instead, I got to enjoy running with the two people I love most.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Race Report: Surprise Track Meet
Last night, I went to the track at Augustana College for my running club's weekly track workout. To my surprise, there was a track meet going on. People were setting up hurdles, pole vaulters were warming up, and the place was teeming with people of all ages in brightly colored running clothes. Just as I was starting to think that my plans to run on the track with the club had changed, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: Cornbelt Runners, go find Russ. He'll give you your bib number.
Well, allrighty, then.
I tracked down Russ, who is our coach, and several other runners trickled in with me. "Russ, what do you have cooked up for us?" I asked. Russ grinned and said that we were going to run in the 1500 meter race.
I have to admit, one of the first things I thought was, "If I'd known I was running a race, I'd have worn something different." My black running skirt and neon yellow marathon training group just isn't the fastest looking outfit I have. But so be it, because my second thought was, "Hey, all I have to run is a 1500? Nice!"
I warmed up and chatted with my fellow runners. Several of them had never run a race so short and had never run a track meet at all, so the excitement and nerves were high. Before I knew it, it was time for the 1500. All of the Cornbelt Running Club runners walked over to the starting line - and there were a lot of us! They had the women go first, followed by the men. And we women were joined by several kids.
Now, I have learned my lesson about kids at track meets. I ran against several of them at
an indoor meet in January, and they are freaking fast. I immediately decided to just discount the kids and focus on running against the grown-ups. We women rationalize that it was okay if the kids beat us because, um, they didn't have to work all day.
The gun was off, and so was I - probably way too fast. I glanced down at Paula The Garmin in the first 200 meters or so and saw that my pace was at a 5:something mile. I resolved to relax. Before long, there were a couple kids in front of me (ignored the little scamps), along with Kathy, who I know is one of the best runners in the area. I figured I'd have no chance of catching up to her, and sure enough, I think she ended up finishing about 150 meters ahead of me.
At around the second lap, a younger woman passed me as well. I focused on running strong, keeping my arms relaxed, and making a game of pretending to be the main character from Once A Runner, out running the mile of my life.
In the final straightaway, I picked up my pace and shaved quite a lot off of my time by chasing after one of those young whippersnappers. No, I didn't actually catch him, but again, kids are fast.
My final (unofficial, Paula Garmin) time was a speedy 6:11, putting me as the third grown-up to finish the race, and probably first in my age group if I'm right about the ages of the other two women.
I spent the rest of the night on an absolute runner's high. I hung out and watched the guys run, then headed home. As I was pulling up to Stately Wasser Manor, I saw Steve out for a run, so I parked the car and joined him for a Gentleman's Three, a great opportunity to cool down and tell him all about the race.
Well, allrighty, then.
I tracked down Russ, who is our coach, and several other runners trickled in with me. "Russ, what do you have cooked up for us?" I asked. Russ grinned and said that we were going to run in the 1500 meter race.
I have to admit, one of the first things I thought was, "If I'd known I was running a race, I'd have worn something different." My black running skirt and neon yellow marathon training group just isn't the fastest looking outfit I have. But so be it, because my second thought was, "Hey, all I have to run is a 1500? Nice!"
I warmed up and chatted with my fellow runners. Several of them had never run a race so short and had never run a track meet at all, so the excitement and nerves were high. Before I knew it, it was time for the 1500. All of the Cornbelt Running Club runners walked over to the starting line - and there were a lot of us! They had the women go first, followed by the men. And we women were joined by several kids.
Now, I have learned my lesson about kids at track meets. I ran against several of them at
an indoor meet in January, and they are freaking fast. I immediately decided to just discount the kids and focus on running against the grown-ups. We women rationalize that it was okay if the kids beat us because, um, they didn't have to work all day.
The gun was off, and so was I - probably way too fast. I glanced down at Paula The Garmin in the first 200 meters or so and saw that my pace was at a 5:something mile. I resolved to relax. Before long, there were a couple kids in front of me (ignored the little scamps), along with Kathy, who I know is one of the best runners in the area. I figured I'd have no chance of catching up to her, and sure enough, I think she ended up finishing about 150 meters ahead of me.
At around the second lap, a younger woman passed me as well. I focused on running strong, keeping my arms relaxed, and making a game of pretending to be the main character from Once A Runner, out running the mile of my life.
In the final straightaway, I picked up my pace and shaved quite a lot off of my time by chasing after one of those young whippersnappers. No, I didn't actually catch him, but again, kids are fast.
My final (unofficial, Paula Garmin) time was a speedy 6:11, putting me as the third grown-up to finish the race, and probably first in my age group if I'm right about the ages of the other two women.
I spent the rest of the night on an absolute runner's high. I hung out and watched the guys run, then headed home. As I was pulling up to Stately Wasser Manor, I saw Steve out for a run, so I parked the car and joined him for a Gentleman's Three, a great opportunity to cool down and tell him all about the race.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Race Report: 13.1 Chicago
When we last left off, I had a bag of frozen peas tied to my ankle and was trying not to freak out about an injury that could make running 13.1 miles tricky to say the least. I am happy to report that the peas and their ally the Advil did their job: by Saturday morning, my ankle was no longer bothering me.
Steve, Jack, and I left Saturday morning for Chicago. It was a lot of fun taking Jack to a big city for the first time. He found absolutely everything fascinating: the tall buildings, the pigeons, and all of the people. He also noted, "Chicago is noisy," which was especially true since we were near El tracks most of the time. There were also several firsts for Jack - his first ride in a taxi - with no car seat - and his first ride on a Ferris wheel. He seemed to find them equally thrilling.
There are, of course, lots of things to see and do in Chicago, but we decided to keep it simple. We went to Navy Pier to ride the aforementioned Ferris wheel, then went to the Chicago Children's Museum. The museum was a lot of fun, with many the opportunity for Jack to put on costumes, play music, and so on. The best part was a huge net that he climbed way up and around, like a pirate's ship. Jack pretty much did that over and over again until the museum closed. Jack spotted a pirate show on a stage nearby, so we watched that, then had pasta for dinner. On the way back to the hotel, we took a quick detour to the toy department at the old Marshall Field's store (which I hate to acknowledge as a Macy's), where he selected a cat. Jack introduced Kitty Kit to Vincent, the doorman at the hotel, then we headed to bed at the ripe old hour of 8:30.
Naturally, it was onlhy too soon that my alarm went off at 5:00. I had my clothes laid out in the bathroom so I was able to quickly get dressed and head out. I ignored sage advice and wore a new outfit for the race: a bright pink Asics singlet with a black and grey Race Ready skirt. I highly recommend the Race Ready skirt. All along the small of my back were mesh pockets, with elastic holdin git in almost bungee style. I was able to easily carry my iPod, phone, a couple packs of Biofreeze (I was still worried about my ankle), emergency cash, and two packs of sport beans. It was also really easy to get things in and out of the pockets. I'll definitely be buying the skirt in more colors.
Chicago at 5:00 in the morning on a Sunday is virtually desserted. I walked out of the hotel and didn't see another person for a few minutes. Then, I saw groups of runners all headed towards Millenium Park, ready to catch the shuttle buses to the start. The bus service was smooth and easy - very well organized.
We arrived at the South Shore Cultural Center, a lovely building where the Obamas had their wedding reception (Steve noted that it probably didn't smell like sweat that day). It was then that I discovered a crisis: there was no coffee anywhere near by. The Starbucks near my hotel was not open yet, and there was absolutely nothing near the starting line. No caffiene is not a good thing for me. My coffee addiction is a bit like heroin addiction in that the first hit isn't so much to make me feel good as it is to keep me from feeling bad. I ate my second emergency pack of sport beans, figuring at least that would get some caffiene in my system.
The energy at the starting line was terrific. Rob Powers did the announcing, the White Sox mascot was wandering around, as were actors playing the Blues Brothers. The start was organized in waves, which was a first for me. Each wave got its own pomp (music that introduced the Blues Brothers in the movie), and there was ample space between each wave so that the paths were never crowded. It was terrific, and more races should do this.
The course itself was spectacular. It was an absolute thrill to run alongside Lake Michigan with a view of the Chicago skyline. Support was impressive, with water and Gatorade available approximately every mile. I also saw lots of Brightroom photographers, so here's hoping that there will be some good pictures of me.
And how'd I do? Well, for the first 11 miles, I felt awesome. Then I started to fade. I'm not sure why. I'd like to blame the lack of coffee, but it may just be that I wasn't quite as focused and mentally strong as I was when I ran the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Nevertheless, I kicked it up a notch, waved to Steve and Jack, and finished strong with a final time of 2:00:56.
The finisher's medal is the most gigantic thing you ever saw. It's a 13.1 (with the decimal point actually spin-able), easily twice as big as any of my other medals, and in gold. I feel like a rapper in it.
It was a spectacular way to end my spring Trisko Festival. When it was all said and done, I ran threehalf marathons triskos in just under a month - and had a blast doing it.
Steve, Jack, and I left Saturday morning for Chicago. It was a lot of fun taking Jack to a big city for the first time. He found absolutely everything fascinating: the tall buildings, the pigeons, and all of the people. He also noted, "Chicago is noisy," which was especially true since we were near El tracks most of the time. There were also several firsts for Jack - his first ride in a taxi - with no car seat - and his first ride on a Ferris wheel. He seemed to find them equally thrilling.
There are, of course, lots of things to see and do in Chicago, but we decided to keep it simple. We went to Navy Pier to ride the aforementioned Ferris wheel, then went to the Chicago Children's Museum. The museum was a lot of fun, with many the opportunity for Jack to put on costumes, play music, and so on. The best part was a huge net that he climbed way up and around, like a pirate's ship. Jack pretty much did that over and over again until the museum closed. Jack spotted a pirate show on a stage nearby, so we watched that, then had pasta for dinner. On the way back to the hotel, we took a quick detour to the toy department at the old Marshall Field's store (which I hate to acknowledge as a Macy's), where he selected a cat. Jack introduced Kitty Kit to Vincent, the doorman at the hotel, then we headed to bed at the ripe old hour of 8:30.
Naturally, it was onlhy too soon that my alarm went off at 5:00. I had my clothes laid out in the bathroom so I was able to quickly get dressed and head out. I ignored sage advice and wore a new outfit for the race: a bright pink Asics singlet with a black and grey Race Ready skirt. I highly recommend the Race Ready skirt. All along the small of my back were mesh pockets, with elastic holdin git in almost bungee style. I was able to easily carry my iPod, phone, a couple packs of Biofreeze (I was still worried about my ankle), emergency cash, and two packs of sport beans. It was also really easy to get things in and out of the pockets. I'll definitely be buying the skirt in more colors.
Chicago at 5:00 in the morning on a Sunday is virtually desserted. I walked out of the hotel and didn't see another person for a few minutes. Then, I saw groups of runners all headed towards Millenium Park, ready to catch the shuttle buses to the start. The bus service was smooth and easy - very well organized.
We arrived at the South Shore Cultural Center, a lovely building where the Obamas had their wedding reception (Steve noted that it probably didn't smell like sweat that day). It was then that I discovered a crisis: there was no coffee anywhere near by. The Starbucks near my hotel was not open yet, and there was absolutely nothing near the starting line. No caffiene is not a good thing for me. My coffee addiction is a bit like heroin addiction in that the first hit isn't so much to make me feel good as it is to keep me from feeling bad. I ate my second emergency pack of sport beans, figuring at least that would get some caffiene in my system.
The energy at the starting line was terrific. Rob Powers did the announcing, the White Sox mascot was wandering around, as were actors playing the Blues Brothers. The start was organized in waves, which was a first for me. Each wave got its own pomp (music that introduced the Blues Brothers in the movie), and there was ample space between each wave so that the paths were never crowded. It was terrific, and more races should do this.
The course itself was spectacular. It was an absolute thrill to run alongside Lake Michigan with a view of the Chicago skyline. Support was impressive, with water and Gatorade available approximately every mile. I also saw lots of Brightroom photographers, so here's hoping that there will be some good pictures of me.
And how'd I do? Well, for the first 11 miles, I felt awesome. Then I started to fade. I'm not sure why. I'd like to blame the lack of coffee, but it may just be that I wasn't quite as focused and mentally strong as I was when I ran the Quad Cities Distance Classic. Nevertheless, I kicked it up a notch, waved to Steve and Jack, and finished strong with a final time of 2:00:56.
The finisher's medal is the most gigantic thing you ever saw. It's a 13.1 (with the decimal point actually spin-able), easily twice as big as any of my other medals, and in gold. I feel like a rapper in it.
It was a spectacular way to end my spring Trisko Festival. When it was all said and done, I ran three
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Race Report: Madison Half Marathon
The night before the Madison half marathon trisko, my cousin Michael's wife Ana (who is Italian and thus a fantastic person to have nearby the night before a race) asked a simple question:
"Why would anyone want to run a marathon or half marathon?"
My brother, running the full, gave the Everest answer - "Because it's there." I expanded on that, saying that a huge part of the appeal of running a long distance race is that it's really hard to do. It's challenging to train for it, and it's even more challenging to complete it. That challenge gives you a tremendous sense of accomplishment that we don't get to experience in our normal day-to-day lives. Andy agreed and said that it feels amazing when you finish, and the beer you drink after a marathon is the greatest one you've ever had.
Little did we know that struggle and challenge would be so much on our minds the next day.
As always, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It had been a challenging couple of weeks. Solid travel for work meant lots of time way from Steve and Jack. Steve had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I decided Madison could be a Mommy-Son roadtrip. It was also a chance to spend some time with some of my favorite family members - my brother, my aunt and uncle, and three of my cousins. In between, I'd throw in a half marathon. Really, what could go wrong?
Andy and I hit the Expo, and I showed tremendous restraint, buying just a new hat with the race logo on it. They also had t-shirts that proclaimed, "Will run for beer, cheese, and brats," and I don't know how Andy resisted the "26.2 Miles? You Betcha!" shirt. In the brief time we were there, Jack convinced my Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Chuck to take him to the brat festival, where he won a stuffed dolphin and three snakes. Good thing, since I think he only brought about 20 stuffed animals from home.
Back at the house, the Italian relatives cooked a huge feast of pasta and bread. It was completely fabulous. It being Wisconsin, there was also a lot of cheese. Excellent.
Jack and I decided to share a bed, which meant about a hundred years of him playing with my hair, having various tigers kiss me goodnight, and me saying over and over, "Quit kicking your legs or I swear, I will make you sleep on the floor." He finally conked out, leaving me to sleep, then wake up at 12:30, 4:00, and finally 5:00 when it was time to get up. Not good.
After bagels and coffee, Uncle Chuck drove Andy and me to the starting line, explaining that we shouldn't have to deal with parking. We did some people watching, enjoyed some pre-race nervous peeing, and I finally bid Andy goodbye to take to the starting line. Madison is an unusual race in that the half starts before the full marathon. It's really a good thing, as it's best to just stay out of each other's hair.
The starting line was really crowded. I actually wasn't able to fit on the pavement and just stood in the dirt and funneled through when the gun went off. No big deal, since it was chip-timed, but I wonder if they'll change that in future yeas.
I ran the first few miles near the 2:00 pacer, figuring I'd run there for a while, then pick it up in the final miles. That was not meant to be. At mile 4, I felt incredibly tired. And not tired legs, my friends. Tired, like, I could take a nap on this comfy pavement tired. Two weeks of travel and poor sleep caught up to me. I felt lousy.
Then, I made a decision: if I wasn't going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time. I made an effort to take in the sights of the very pretty course - we ran past three different lakes, past the Badger football stadium, through lovely neighborhoods, and through University of Wisconsin's campus. The volunteers and spectators were all friendly. It was great.
I finished in 2:06, nine minutes slower than my PR, and one minute slower than my previous slowest time. But what are you going to do?
I met up with Phyllis, Chuck, and Jack so we could watch Andy run. At mile 18 or so, he looked pretty good. At mile 23, he looked okay, too. I ran with him for a few steps and told him where to meet us afterwards. He said he wasn't feeling great, thanks to the remains of a cold he was fighing. Then we headed to the finish line. I saw lots of people who had been running around where Andy was, and Jack and I had fun cheering for them. But no Andy. I was worried. I know that a lot can go wrong in just 3 miles.
But finally, he was there. I yelled, "Go, Andy! Don't let them run out of beer!" Jack chased after Andy and ran with him for a little while, which Andy later said actually helped him.
Chuck went to find Andy at the meeting spot and he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Jack and went to look for him. My fear, which I didn't share with anyone, was that he might be in the medical tent. Thank Yoda he was okay - my cell phone rang a minute later. It was my mom - Andy borrowed someone's cell phone and called her to tell me where he was. Andy explained that yes, I'd told him where to meet, but that in those last three miles it fell out of his brain. Totally understandable. He, too, was far beyond his goal time.
The good thing is, he kept it all in perspective, just as I was working to do. Sometimes, it's just not your day. Neither of us was racing under peak conditions.
And remember what I said before about part of the appeal of racing long distances being how hard it can be? Well, because it's hard, sometimes you're not going to succeed. If you hit your goal or set a PR every time you toe the line, then you're not setting tough enough goals. Finishing a race strong and getting a PR is an amazing feeling; I know since it happened to me just a few weeks ago. But the other side of the coin is real, too. There is some value, even some satisfaction that can come from working hard at something and not making the mark.
"Why would anyone want to run a marathon or half marathon?"
My brother, running the full, gave the Everest answer - "Because it's there." I expanded on that, saying that a huge part of the appeal of running a long distance race is that it's really hard to do. It's challenging to train for it, and it's even more challenging to complete it. That challenge gives you a tremendous sense of accomplishment that we don't get to experience in our normal day-to-day lives. Andy agreed and said that it feels amazing when you finish, and the beer you drink after a marathon is the greatest one you've ever had.
Little did we know that struggle and challenge would be so much on our minds the next day.
As always, I'm getting ahead of myself.
It had been a challenging couple of weeks. Solid travel for work meant lots of time way from Steve and Jack. Steve had to work Memorial Day weekend, so I decided Madison could be a Mommy-Son roadtrip. It was also a chance to spend some time with some of my favorite family members - my brother, my aunt and uncle, and three of my cousins. In between, I'd throw in a half marathon. Really, what could go wrong?
Andy and I hit the Expo, and I showed tremendous restraint, buying just a new hat with the race logo on it. They also had t-shirts that proclaimed, "Will run for beer, cheese, and brats," and I don't know how Andy resisted the "26.2 Miles? You Betcha!" shirt. In the brief time we were there, Jack convinced my Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Chuck to take him to the brat festival, where he won a stuffed dolphin and three snakes. Good thing, since I think he only brought about 20 stuffed animals from home.
Back at the house, the Italian relatives cooked a huge feast of pasta and bread. It was completely fabulous. It being Wisconsin, there was also a lot of cheese. Excellent.
Jack and I decided to share a bed, which meant about a hundred years of him playing with my hair, having various tigers kiss me goodnight, and me saying over and over, "Quit kicking your legs or I swear, I will make you sleep on the floor." He finally conked out, leaving me to sleep, then wake up at 12:30, 4:00, and finally 5:00 when it was time to get up. Not good.
After bagels and coffee, Uncle Chuck drove Andy and me to the starting line, explaining that we shouldn't have to deal with parking. We did some people watching, enjoyed some pre-race nervous peeing, and I finally bid Andy goodbye to take to the starting line. Madison is an unusual race in that the half starts before the full marathon. It's really a good thing, as it's best to just stay out of each other's hair.
The starting line was really crowded. I actually wasn't able to fit on the pavement and just stood in the dirt and funneled through when the gun went off. No big deal, since it was chip-timed, but I wonder if they'll change that in future yeas.
I ran the first few miles near the 2:00 pacer, figuring I'd run there for a while, then pick it up in the final miles. That was not meant to be. At mile 4, I felt incredibly tired. And not tired legs, my friends. Tired, like, I could take a nap on this comfy pavement tired. Two weeks of travel and poor sleep caught up to me. I felt lousy.
Then, I made a decision: if I wasn't going to run a good time, I might as well have a good time. I made an effort to take in the sights of the very pretty course - we ran past three different lakes, past the Badger football stadium, through lovely neighborhoods, and through University of Wisconsin's campus. The volunteers and spectators were all friendly. It was great.
I finished in 2:06, nine minutes slower than my PR, and one minute slower than my previous slowest time. But what are you going to do?
I met up with Phyllis, Chuck, and Jack so we could watch Andy run. At mile 18 or so, he looked pretty good. At mile 23, he looked okay, too. I ran with him for a few steps and told him where to meet us afterwards. He said he wasn't feeling great, thanks to the remains of a cold he was fighing. Then we headed to the finish line. I saw lots of people who had been running around where Andy was, and Jack and I had fun cheering for them. But no Andy. I was worried. I know that a lot can go wrong in just 3 miles.
But finally, he was there. I yelled, "Go, Andy! Don't let them run out of beer!" Jack chased after Andy and ran with him for a little while, which Andy later said actually helped him.
Chuck went to find Andy at the meeting spot and he was nowhere to be found. I grabbed Jack and went to look for him. My fear, which I didn't share with anyone, was that he might be in the medical tent. Thank Yoda he was okay - my cell phone rang a minute later. It was my mom - Andy borrowed someone's cell phone and called her to tell me where he was. Andy explained that yes, I'd told him where to meet, but that in those last three miles it fell out of his brain. Totally understandable. He, too, was far beyond his goal time.
The good thing is, he kept it all in perspective, just as I was working to do. Sometimes, it's just not your day. Neither of us was racing under peak conditions.
And remember what I said before about part of the appeal of racing long distances being how hard it can be? Well, because it's hard, sometimes you're not going to succeed. If you hit your goal or set a PR every time you toe the line, then you're not setting tough enough goals. Finishing a race strong and getting a PR is an amazing feeling; I know since it happened to me just a few weeks ago. But the other side of the coin is real, too. There is some value, even some satisfaction that can come from working hard at something and not making the mark.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Race Report: Quad Cities Distance Classic
I walked to the starting line of the Quad Cities Distance Classic half marathon trisko feeling more confident than I perhaps ever have for a race. I felt very prepared for the race. Not just because my training had gone well (though it did), but also because my training had become so important to me. In the months since I started training for this race, my life went through quite a lot of upheaval. I unexpectedly lost my job, went through the always trying period of a job search, and was lucky to find a new job quickly. Then I had to adjust to a new job that was challenging - and required quite a lot of travel. Training for this race was my constant, something that I could control. The fact that I kept training proved to me that the emotional horsepower to meet my goal.
Plus, there were the messages on my wrists. On my right wrist, I wore my Road ID. Inscribed on it is the mantra that I developed at this very race last year, running ahalf marathon trisko on Mother's Day in the pounding rain, sleet, and winds: ONE TOUGH MOTHER. On my left wrist was a reminder inspired by The Laminator and Frayed Laces: DDYA, which stands for Don't Deny Your Awesomeness. In the days leading up to the race, I would find myself with a stray negative thought, wondering if I could really meet my goal. So, I took a pen and wrote DDYA on my wrist as a reminder to put my thinking right. I rewrote it so many times that now, days after the race, a hint of blue ink still remains on my wrist.
In fact, the only concern I found when I reached the starting line was that, in a long sleeved shirt and tights, I was dressed more warmly than anyone else there. Was I overdressed? Was that a mistake? It was too late to fix it, so I hoped for the best.
My goal for this race was simple: 2:00 or less. My previous PR was 2:05, so it was ambitious, but I was confident I could do it.
And I tried a new strategy for this race, a strategy that I like to call "Running Smart." This offers a sharp contrast from my previous strategies of "Just Start Running And See What Happens" and "Go Out Way Too Fast And Totally Bonk At The End." I set Paula the Garmin to encourage me to run the first nine miles at (or reasonably close to) my required pace of 9:09. Then in the remaining 4.1 miles, I could run faster if I felt good.
So hey, maybe I should stop talking about it and just run the race already, right? Right.
I did my best to relax in the first mile, but I blazed through it way too fast at 8:20. I knew there was a big steep hill at the second mile, so I figured that would slow me down, which it did - 8:57. Still too fast, so I focused on relaxing and running at the right pace. I saw some runners around me who I wanted to be ahead of, but I reminded myself that my goal was not to stay ahead of Orange Shirt Girl, but to finish in two hours. I kept going, hitting the next few miles like this:
Mile 3: 9:02
Mile 4: 8:57
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6: 9:02
Mile 7: 9:06
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:04
So, I managed to ease up a bit and ran some pretty consistent splits. I was happy to have my Batman Utility Belt Fuel Belt with me so that I didn't have to stop or slow down for water stops. I was even happier about the fact that, thanks to my training runs with my running club, I knew several of the volunteers. The Distance Classic is a small race - and run on Mother's Day - so there were not a lot of spectators. Seriously, maybe 12 for the first 12 miles. It was great to be able to see some of my running buddies and have them say things like, "Good job, Betsy. You look really good." Because we'd all talked about the race quite a bit during and after those Sunday morning runs, they knew what I was trying to do, and they could see that I was on my way there. It was a great feeling.
After I passed the 10 mile mark, I called Steve and told him where I was. He said that he and Jack were at the stadium excited to see me finish. I felt great and picked up the pace.
Mile 10: 8:38
Mile 11: 8:37
Mile 12: 8:49
I kept looking at my splits and doing math in my head. I knew I was going to make my goal, and I was absolutely thrilled. I was a bit warm in my long sleeves, but I figured I could deal with it for a few more miles. Things were going great. Then, at around the 12-1/2 mile mark, a little cartoon devil popped onto my shoulder. "Just walk to that next telephone pole," it encouraged. I have no idea where that devil came from, because I was tired, but still strong. I definitely had another half a mile or so to give. So I brushed him off and kept going. I was rewarded by the site of my running buddy John standing at the corner, enthusiastically cheering, "Looking good! You've got this one!"
I ran into the stadium and onto the track. In an attempt to maximize that last 1/4 mile, I ditched my Fuel Belt like ballast and tore into it. Steve and Jack were waiting near the finish line. Steve cheered for me and Jack joined me on the track. With my guys cheering for me, I blazed through mile 13 in 8:35 and the little .1 at 6:59 pace.
The final result?
1:56:51.
Previous PR? Smashed.
Race goal? Obliterated.
There was nothing left to do but celebrate. I got my finisher's medal, ate some bagels, bananas, and cookies, and picked out some red petunias - all finishers can choose some annuals to plant, and I'll be happy to have them be part of my garden. I cheered in some more of my running buddies.
And then, I spent the rest of my day feeling triumphant. I put on my red OxySox and took a nap while snuggling with Jack and watching Star Wars. The boys took me to see Disney Earth and Steve made a great dinner for me and my mom.
I have two more triskos scheduled for the next few weeks. A week from Sunday, I'll run Madison, and then on June 7 I am running 13.1 Chicago. Because I did so well in this race, I feel like the pressure is off a little bit and I can relax a bit. That said, I am thinking about running Madison with the first eight miles at 9:09, giving me another 5.1 to speed up if I want to. We'll see how I feel. But until then, I feel like one tough mother!
Plus, there were the messages on my wrists. On my right wrist, I wore my Road ID. Inscribed on it is the mantra that I developed at this very race last year, running a
In fact, the only concern I found when I reached the starting line was that, in a long sleeved shirt and tights, I was dressed more warmly than anyone else there. Was I overdressed? Was that a mistake? It was too late to fix it, so I hoped for the best.
My goal for this race was simple: 2:00 or less. My previous PR was 2:05, so it was ambitious, but I was confident I could do it.
And I tried a new strategy for this race, a strategy that I like to call "Running Smart." This offers a sharp contrast from my previous strategies of "Just Start Running And See What Happens" and "Go Out Way Too Fast And Totally Bonk At The End." I set Paula the Garmin to encourage me to run the first nine miles at (or reasonably close to) my required pace of 9:09. Then in the remaining 4.1 miles, I could run faster if I felt good.
So hey, maybe I should stop talking about it and just run the race already, right? Right.
I did my best to relax in the first mile, but I blazed through it way too fast at 8:20. I knew there was a big steep hill at the second mile, so I figured that would slow me down, which it did - 8:57. Still too fast, so I focused on relaxing and running at the right pace. I saw some runners around me who I wanted to be ahead of, but I reminded myself that my goal was not to stay ahead of Orange Shirt Girl, but to finish in two hours. I kept going, hitting the next few miles like this:
Mile 3: 9:02
Mile 4: 8:57
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6: 9:02
Mile 7: 9:06
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:04
So, I managed to ease up a bit and ran some pretty consistent splits. I was happy to have my Batman Utility Belt Fuel Belt with me so that I didn't have to stop or slow down for water stops. I was even happier about the fact that, thanks to my training runs with my running club, I knew several of the volunteers. The Distance Classic is a small race - and run on Mother's Day - so there were not a lot of spectators. Seriously, maybe 12 for the first 12 miles. It was great to be able to see some of my running buddies and have them say things like, "Good job, Betsy. You look really good." Because we'd all talked about the race quite a bit during and after those Sunday morning runs, they knew what I was trying to do, and they could see that I was on my way there. It was a great feeling.
After I passed the 10 mile mark, I called Steve and told him where I was. He said that he and Jack were at the stadium excited to see me finish. I felt great and picked up the pace.
Mile 10: 8:38
Mile 11: 8:37
Mile 12: 8:49
I kept looking at my splits and doing math in my head. I knew I was going to make my goal, and I was absolutely thrilled. I was a bit warm in my long sleeves, but I figured I could deal with it for a few more miles. Things were going great. Then, at around the 12-1/2 mile mark, a little cartoon devil popped onto my shoulder. "Just walk to that next telephone pole," it encouraged. I have no idea where that devil came from, because I was tired, but still strong. I definitely had another half a mile or so to give. So I brushed him off and kept going. I was rewarded by the site of my running buddy John standing at the corner, enthusiastically cheering, "Looking good! You've got this one!"
I ran into the stadium and onto the track. In an attempt to maximize that last 1/4 mile, I ditched my Fuel Belt like ballast and tore into it. Steve and Jack were waiting near the finish line. Steve cheered for me and Jack joined me on the track. With my guys cheering for me, I blazed through mile 13 in 8:35 and the little .1 at 6:59 pace.
The final result?
1:56:51.
Previous PR? Smashed.
Race goal? Obliterated.
There was nothing left to do but celebrate. I got my finisher's medal, ate some bagels, bananas, and cookies, and picked out some red petunias - all finishers can choose some annuals to plant, and I'll be happy to have them be part of my garden. I cheered in some more of my running buddies.
And then, I spent the rest of my day feeling triumphant. I put on my red OxySox and took a nap while snuggling with Jack and watching Star Wars. The boys took me to see Disney Earth and Steve made a great dinner for me and my mom.
I have two more triskos scheduled for the next few weeks. A week from Sunday, I'll run Madison, and then on June 7 I am running 13.1 Chicago. Because I did so well in this race, I feel like the pressure is off a little bit and I can relax a bit. That said, I am thinking about running Madison with the first eight miles at 9:09, giving me another 5.1 to speed up if I want to. We'll see how I feel. But until then, I feel like one tough mother!
Monday, April 06, 2009
Beer, Brats, and Running
I got an email from my brother on Friday announcing that he is running the Madison Marathon on May 24 and that I should do it, too.
My immediate response was that no way could I be ready for 26.2 miles in that short an amount of time (despite Andy’s arguments that Steve Runner is training for Boston in just five weeks). But then I realized that although I couldn’t do the full marathon, I could run the half.
The more I thought about it, the cooler the idea was. I am running a trisko (“half marathon”) two weeks before at the Quad Cities Distance Classic, but that seems like plenty of time to recover from 13.1 miles. My favorite aunt and uncle live in Madison, so we’d get to stay with them. I'll get to hang out with my brother. The race is at the same time as the bratwurst festival in Madison, so a post-race beer and brat is a done deal. And the race is Memorial Day weekend. Steve will be working that weekend, so Jack and I could take a road trip and have a Mommy-Son adventure.
Next thing you know, I’m signing on the dotted line and registering for the race.
There has also been an interesting side effect to all of this.
I went for my long run yesterday. Since my mojo’s been missing for a couple of weeks now, I decided to just run 10 (rather than the 11-12 I had planned) and to run it at a very relaxed pace. Paula-Garmin went in my pocket so I wouldn’t be distracted by her. The fact that it was cold and windy out reinforced that decision.
So, I did it. I ran 10 miles. And guess what you guys? It felt good! It was not a miserable suck-fest slog. I felt happy and strong and awesome. My 9:30 pace (Paula-Garmin may have been in my pocket, but she was still on) was not as fast as my previous sub-9:00 10-miler, but it was still totally respectable for me.
The mojo was back, and all I needed was a little extra something to be excited about.
My immediate response was that no way could I be ready for 26.2 miles in that short an amount of time (despite Andy’s arguments that Steve Runner is training for Boston in just five weeks). But then I realized that although I couldn’t do the full marathon, I could run the half.
The more I thought about it, the cooler the idea was. I am running a trisko (“half marathon”) two weeks before at the Quad Cities Distance Classic, but that seems like plenty of time to recover from 13.1 miles. My favorite aunt and uncle live in Madison, so we’d get to stay with them. I'll get to hang out with my brother. The race is at the same time as the bratwurst festival in Madison, so a post-race beer and brat is a done deal. And the race is Memorial Day weekend. Steve will be working that weekend, so Jack and I could take a road trip and have a Mommy-Son adventure.
Next thing you know, I’m signing on the dotted line and registering for the race.
There has also been an interesting side effect to all of this.
I went for my long run yesterday. Since my mojo’s been missing for a couple of weeks now, I decided to just run 10 (rather than the 11-12 I had planned) and to run it at a very relaxed pace. Paula-Garmin went in my pocket so I wouldn’t be distracted by her. The fact that it was cold and windy out reinforced that decision.
So, I did it. I ran 10 miles. And guess what you guys? It felt good! It was not a miserable suck-fest slog. I felt happy and strong and awesome. My 9:30 pace (Paula-Garmin may have been in my pocket, but she was still on) was not as fast as my previous sub-9:00 10-miler, but it was still totally respectable for me.
The mojo was back, and all I needed was a little extra something to be excited about.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Race Report: St. Patrick's Day 5K
Dawg, I don't know. You went up there, you did your thing, but it was just all right for me. It was kinda weird, dawg; I don't know. I'm not mad atcha, but I'm not jumping out of my chair, either. You know?
--Randy Jackson
Okay, Randy Jackson might not have said those exact words, at least not in that order (and has anyone else noticed that if Randy is forced to give an opinion first and can't just agree with one of the other judges that he's reduced to a lot of stammering, "dawg," and "How do you think you did"?), but the point is that he could have. And I could have said that about my experience at the St. Patrick's Day 5K.
The St. Patrick's Day 5K is not a race I've run before, but I figured, what the heck. For one thing, as I've discussed before, it's only 5 kilometers long. And in perhaps the most kick-ass job benefit of all time, New Workplace has a program in which they sponsor 50% of all of my race fees. Yes, seriously: I run a race, they pay for half of it. Yes, it is awesome. I know. Yeah, I know: awesome.
Anyway, I arrived in plenty of time for the 9:00 AM start... only to find out that the giant 9:00 AM on the entry fee and on the website referred to the children's races, and that my race did not start until 10:00. That kind of sucked, because I could have either slept for another hour or done some work around the house. But whatever; I hung out with my running buddies and watched the kids run.
When it was time to line up at the start, I discovered some weirdness about the course. It was an out-and-back... kind of. We had to walk about 200 meters away from the finish line to start the race. We then ran to a turn-around, and about 100 meters away from that turn-around was the actual half-way point of the race. It wasn't a huge deal, but it was a tad disconcerting. The course had some rolling hills, which made it more challenging. I followed my usual technique of running up the hills saying to myself, "I am really strong on hills, and I tend to catch up with a lot of people on them," which I swear to Yoda makes it true.
Also annoying was the fact that after the finish line, you had to walk about a quarter of a mile (up a really steep hill, by the way) before you could get to the water and post-race food. True, I hadn't exhausted myself to the point where I couldn't go that far, but it seems not only inconvenient but potentially hazardous for a beginner who might really need a water and a banana quickly after the race.
And you guys, the t-shirt was LAME. It's a long-sleeved white cotton tee with a little shamrock on the front where a pocket would be. On the back is nothing but sponsor logos in black. Bo-ring.
The positive? I freaking rocked this one out, you guys. I finished in 23:44. At first I thought that was exactly my previous PR, down to the second... but then I looked more closely and saw that I shaved a full minute off of that time. It was good enough for third place in my age group. I need to investigate how I can pick up my trophy, because I believe that it is actually a beer mug. Kind of makes up for the lameness of the t-shirt.
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