On urging from my boyfriend and teammates, I entered PowerBar's contest to win an entry into the 2014 Boston Marathon. I am a little reluctant, as I've mentioned before, I want to run because I earned my way in. And I hate contests. But I wrote an essay and decided to give it a go.
Planning to be there to cheer regardless, but would be especially nice if I was there running...
https://www.facebook.com/PowerBar?sk=app_183837888454522&ref=ts
search for Kate K in Minneapolis and vote every day until Nov 11.
Showing posts with label marathon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marathon. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
rejected
Though it wasn't surprising, I was still really sad to get my reject email from Boston yesterday. It happened just as predicted, that in fact one needed -1:38 under their qualifying time to actually get in. There had been a glimmer of hope based on the notification we had received last Friday, but the hope only made it worse when the news broke on Facebook. My "every cloud" feeling from last week is clearer today than yesterday, but it was still really sad to get the final no.
I've had about enough of the people who are "helping" by telling me (and the other 2,975 that didn't make the cut) that we should just "train harder" and "get faster." As if I haven't been trying. I was just kidding all this time. Run faster? Oh shit! I didn't know that's all I had to do! I wish I had known that at TCM 2011. And Grandma's 2012. Oh, yeah, and that might have helped, if I had only run faster at Sioux Falls. Glad someone told me. I'll try that next time.
In a humbling realization, I determined that part of my frustration over this whole thing is that I'm usually pretty good at setting high but reasonable goals and then achieving them through lots of hard work. This was an instance in which hard work did not pay off. And that perhaps my goal is not reasonable. I have to decide what this means for my running.
I think I'm going to have to avoid Facebook, twitter, and blogs from mid-February until April 25ish, since I don't think I can handle watching my newsfeeds fill up with training updates, expo pics, and race posts for Boston (again) this year.
I think the hardest thing is that I don't know what to do next. Without Boston as a goal, I don't know what to do. Feeling very unmotivated and having a hard time lacing up my running shoes.
Better today but still sad. And lost.
[This is all stated with the understanding that in the scheme of things, in light of many tragedies happening in the world, this is small potatoes. There are far worse things going on, and this is an indulgent hobby and hardly counts as a problem. I get it. I'm still sad.]
I've had about enough of the people who are "helping" by telling me (and the other 2,975 that didn't make the cut) that we should just "train harder" and "get faster." As if I haven't been trying. I was just kidding all this time. Run faster? Oh shit! I didn't know that's all I had to do! I wish I had known that at TCM 2011. And Grandma's 2012. Oh, yeah, and that might have helped, if I had only run faster at Sioux Falls. Glad someone told me. I'll try that next time.
In a humbling realization, I determined that part of my frustration over this whole thing is that I'm usually pretty good at setting high but reasonable goals and then achieving them through lots of hard work. This was an instance in which hard work did not pay off. And that perhaps my goal is not reasonable. I have to decide what this means for my running.
I think I'm going to have to avoid Facebook, twitter, and blogs from mid-February until April 25ish, since I don't think I can handle watching my newsfeeds fill up with training updates, expo pics, and race posts for Boston (again) this year.
I think the hardest thing is that I don't know what to do next. Without Boston as a goal, I don't know what to do. Feeling very unmotivated and having a hard time lacing up my running shoes.
Better today but still sad. And lost.
[This is all stated with the understanding that in the scheme of things, in light of many tragedies happening in the world, this is small potatoes. There are far worse things going on, and this is an indulgent hobby and hardly counts as a problem. I get it. I'm still sad.]
Thursday, September 19, 2013
every cloud
I haven't quite identified the silver lining of the whole Boston thing. I think that it might take some time, and perhaps it will not happen until I get the official word I'm not running it. But regardless, I am feeling 100% better about it. I am not sure how that happened, but after my pathetic pity-party on Tuesday, I woke up on Wed with a new perspective on the whole thing. Would I still love to run Boston? Absolutely! But it just isn't worth feeling bad about any more. I just can't think about it every day, the way I have for the last 3 years as I've worked to get faster. I just don't want to have this be how I determine my success as a runner any more.
Feeling zen about whatever happens next week. Maybe the BAA will have a shocking announcement. But if not, I'll settle on a new goal and everything will be great.
Feeling zen about whatever happens next week. Maybe the BAA will have a shocking announcement. But if not, I'll settle on a new goal and everything will be great.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
feeling discouraged
Though I haven't received my official "You're a loser" email from the BAA indicating that my qualifying time won't allow me in this year's race, the news today secures my status as "good enough to qualify, but not good enough to get in." 7500 submissions for 5000 spots. So, roughly 1/3 more apps than spaces left. I'm guessing that people need -1:40 to get in, which is 42 seconds faster than I was. So last year I missed by :45, this year :42. Improvement (she thinks, incredibly bitterly).
Though I could whine about the situation (ok, I will for a minute), about the heat and humidity, the fact that by every account the course was at least .22 long (which would be close to :90 seconds for my pace and would have given me enough of a cushion to make it in), that the year I finally qualify happens to fall on the year that everyone else that has ever even put on a pair of running shoes wants to be there, it doesn't change the fact that I just wasn't fast enough. I didn't make it happen.
To be honest, the arbitrariness of this qualifying but still not being fast enough thing has made Boston lose a bit of its luster. Maybe I'm just not going to be a good enough runner to wear the blue and yellow. And maybe that doesn't really mean as much as it used to. This isn't to say that if by some miracle the BAA changes something and I end up with a spot I wouldn't be excited to be going. I just don't think it has to be what defines me as a runner any more, the way that it has for years as a non-qualifier.
A few people have suggested I raise money to run as a charity runner. But I don't want to run it just to run it. I earned a spot in the race, and I'm not going there to wear a charity bib and start in the charity corral and have qualifiers look disdainfully at me because my charity spot meant that their spouse or teammate or sister didn't get in the race even though they qualified. At one point I thought about going out to cheer - to celebrate being a runner. And though many of my friends will be there, I don't think my psyche can handle that. I wish I could be a bigger person. I'm just not.
I'm definitely in the post-race blues, made worse by this whole craptastic situation. I need a new goal, I think, and one that doesn't revolve around a BQ. I might still run marathons, and maybe I'll get faster, but maybe running Boston doesn't mean as much if qualifiers still don't get in. Maybe next year if I happen to decide to run another marathon and get a faster time I'll decide differently about the whole thing. Who knows. But in the mean time, I need something else to focus on. I'm driving myself crazy without a goal.
Though I could whine about the situation (ok, I will for a minute), about the heat and humidity, the fact that by every account the course was at least .22 long (which would be close to :90 seconds for my pace and would have given me enough of a cushion to make it in), that the year I finally qualify happens to fall on the year that everyone else that has ever even put on a pair of running shoes wants to be there, it doesn't change the fact that I just wasn't fast enough. I didn't make it happen.
To be honest, the arbitrariness of this qualifying but still not being fast enough thing has made Boston lose a bit of its luster. Maybe I'm just not going to be a good enough runner to wear the blue and yellow. And maybe that doesn't really mean as much as it used to. This isn't to say that if by some miracle the BAA changes something and I end up with a spot I wouldn't be excited to be going. I just don't think it has to be what defines me as a runner any more, the way that it has for years as a non-qualifier.
A few people have suggested I raise money to run as a charity runner. But I don't want to run it just to run it. I earned a spot in the race, and I'm not going there to wear a charity bib and start in the charity corral and have qualifiers look disdainfully at me because my charity spot meant that their spouse or teammate or sister didn't get in the race even though they qualified. At one point I thought about going out to cheer - to celebrate being a runner. And though many of my friends will be there, I don't think my psyche can handle that. I wish I could be a bigger person. I'm just not.
I'm definitely in the post-race blues, made worse by this whole craptastic situation. I need a new goal, I think, and one that doesn't revolve around a BQ. I might still run marathons, and maybe I'll get faster, but maybe running Boston doesn't mean as much if qualifiers still don't get in. Maybe next year if I happen to decide to run another marathon and get a faster time I'll decide differently about the whole thing. Who knows. But in the mean time, I need something else to focus on. I'm driving myself crazy without a goal.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Sioux Falls race report
I'm having a bit of a hard time knowing what to think of this race. It seems silly to debate - I PRed and got a Boston qualifying time. But as registration is way ahead of normal for next April's race this week, it's looking really really unlikely I'll get to be in Boston on Patriot's Day. A BQ doesn't mean a whole lot unless you get to run. And the blue and yellow jacket.
The day before the race, every "good luck" text I got was something about how awful the weather was looking and whether I was going to just run it easy and to be careful and run safe and be smart. I appreciate the reminders to be careful, but mostly these texts did nothing but mess with my confidence. It was good to meet coach and his wife along with the only other team member still running the race (several decided not to run due to injuries or the weather). Steph (coach's wife) in particular helped me set that all aside and refocus. She told me about watching a story about Diana Nyad, who kept thinking throughout her swim and things would go wrong, "Find a way." I decided this would be a perfect mantra for me for this race.
And the weather lived up to what a September marathon in South Dakota promises - hot, humid, and windy. Of course I hoped for an anomaly, but knew when I signed up it would likely be less than favorable conditions. It was 70 degrees and 93% humidity at the start of the race, which is about 30 degrees warmer than I'd choose for marathon race start. The course included rolling hills for the first 8 miles and no shade until mile 16. The wind was strong - up to 15 mi/hr - but the heat and humidity is what did me in.
By mile 7, I knew my A goal (3:29) was not realistic and even thought by B goal (3:35) wasn't going to be attained. By 14, I knew for sure that my new A goal was anything under 3:40. The guy I'm dating jumped into the race with me at about 14.5 and though I didn't articulate my new plan, he could tell I was struggling. He's a 2:50 marathoner, so my pace was a walk in the park for him. He helped me navigate the water stops and generally be positive. I kinda thought I'd get annoyed at some point having someone run with me, but it was really helpful the whole time.
I had to gut out those last 7 miles. At one point, around mile 21, I moaned out loud. I kept recalculating what I needed to make sure I didn't miss 3:40 by seconds. Again. I knew it was going to be close, and had to fight hard. Find a way. Prove you want it. Dig deep. These were the phrases cycling through my head.
And I did (mostly) find a way. I did (kind of) prove it. And I really did dig deep. I missed my goal by 10 minutes, but many other runners on Sunday missed theirs by much more. Coach missed his goal by over 15 minutes, and my teammate missed hers by 45.
So a bittersweet result. I guess there's still a chance for a miracle that there are spots left after this week. I'm not holding my breath. I guess I need to figure out a new goal and find something to do next spring.
The day before the race, every "good luck" text I got was something about how awful the weather was looking and whether I was going to just run it easy and to be careful and run safe and be smart. I appreciate the reminders to be careful, but mostly these texts did nothing but mess with my confidence. It was good to meet coach and his wife along with the only other team member still running the race (several decided not to run due to injuries or the weather). Steph (coach's wife) in particular helped me set that all aside and refocus. She told me about watching a story about Diana Nyad, who kept thinking throughout her swim and things would go wrong, "Find a way." I decided this would be a perfect mantra for me for this race.
And the weather lived up to what a September marathon in South Dakota promises - hot, humid, and windy. Of course I hoped for an anomaly, but knew when I signed up it would likely be less than favorable conditions. It was 70 degrees and 93% humidity at the start of the race, which is about 30 degrees warmer than I'd choose for marathon race start. The course included rolling hills for the first 8 miles and no shade until mile 16. The wind was strong - up to 15 mi/hr - but the heat and humidity is what did me in.
By mile 7, I knew my A goal (3:29) was not realistic and even thought by B goal (3:35) wasn't going to be attained. By 14, I knew for sure that my new A goal was anything under 3:40. The guy I'm dating jumped into the race with me at about 14.5 and though I didn't articulate my new plan, he could tell I was struggling. He's a 2:50 marathoner, so my pace was a walk in the park for him. He helped me navigate the water stops and generally be positive. I kinda thought I'd get annoyed at some point having someone run with me, but it was really helpful the whole time.
I had to gut out those last 7 miles. At one point, around mile 21, I moaned out loud. I kept recalculating what I needed to make sure I didn't miss 3:40 by seconds. Again. I knew it was going to be close, and had to fight hard. Find a way. Prove you want it. Dig deep. These were the phrases cycling through my head.
And I did (mostly) find a way. I did (kind of) prove it. And I really did dig deep. I missed my goal by 10 minutes, but many other runners on Sunday missed theirs by much more. Coach missed his goal by over 15 minutes, and my teammate missed hers by 45.
So a bittersweet result. I guess there's still a chance for a miracle that there are spots left after this week. I'm not holding my breath. I guess I need to figure out a new goal and find something to do next spring.
Friday, July 19, 2013
in need of inspiration.
I'm feeling a little un-blog-spired lately. Finding a way to follow up my 70.3 and massive road trip has left me without much to say this summer. Maybe I'll set the bar low and start blogging about what I'm eating or just whine about how hard it is to train for a marathon in the heat of summer. At least I'd get back at it.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
#runforboston
There isn't anything I can say that hasn't been said already.
It seems so crazy and trivial now that I spent the weekend feeling sorry for myself that I didn't make it to Boston this year. But like thousands of runners out there, my resolve to run that hallowed race is even stronger now (which probably means it will be even harder to get into, but I'll keep at it until I do).
It's times like this that I've even more thankful for my running team. We joined together with other runners at the Edina track last night at 9 pm for a short run in honor of those lost and injured on Monday. It was a start to healing to hug friends, especially those back from running Boston.
Boston, we run for you.
It seems so crazy and trivial now that I spent the weekend feeling sorry for myself that I didn't make it to Boston this year. But like thousands of runners out there, my resolve to run that hallowed race is even stronger now (which probably means it will be even harder to get into, but I'll keep at it until I do).
It's times like this that I've even more thankful for my running team. We joined together with other runners at the Edina track last night at 9 pm for a short run in honor of those lost and injured on Monday. It was a start to healing to hug friends, especially those back from running Boston.
Boston, we run for you.
Friday, April 12, 2013
running down a dream
If I'm being perfectly honest, the main reason I signed up for the stupid 70.3 I'm doing in June despite the fact that I'm not a triathlete is that I needed something to occupy my mind in the spring so I wasn't constantly thinking about how sad I am not to be headed to Boston. And it worked. Until this week when my FB newsfeed is a constant series of posts about Boston weather and tapering and now pics from the expo. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled for my friends that are there. I'm also really sad that I'm not.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
a new plan
I am having a really hard time dealing with my current leg pain and the impact it is having on my running training. I was supposed to run the Virginia Beach full marathon, but it took me 5 months to get up to running 30 mile weeks, so that wasn't going to happen. I switched to the half and soon developed hip pain. It is bad enough that I limp after running. It's not good, whatever it is. I've seen a chiropractor/pt doc and it hasn't gotten better so she thinks I should either see another kind of doc or just go ahead for an MRI. I have an MRI scheduled for March 4. I am certain they are going to find something terrible like bone cancer and a broken hip. Probably a labral tear too. And maybe bursitis to top it off. In the mean time, doc Jenna said to just keep running unless it got worse, which it hasn't, so I keep running.
All this, though, has made training difficult. My May marathon is now out the window, and I'll just hope I can hang in there to complete the half iron. My running buds think I should bag the year, and maybe set a goal race at a shorter distance, focus on getting and staying healthy and maybe get faster at a shorter distance. This is not what I want to do, but they are right. So instead of signing up for the Chicago marathon today, I decided to make the TC 10 mile my fall goal race. And plan to kill a spring 2014 marathon.
This doesn't make me happy, but it is the right thing to do. I hate doing the right thing.
All this, though, has made training difficult. My May marathon is now out the window, and I'll just hope I can hang in there to complete the half iron. My running buds think I should bag the year, and maybe set a goal race at a shorter distance, focus on getting and staying healthy and maybe get faster at a shorter distance. This is not what I want to do, but they are right. So instead of signing up for the Chicago marathon today, I decided to make the TC 10 mile my fall goal race. And plan to kill a spring 2014 marathon.
This doesn't make me happy, but it is the right thing to do. I hate doing the right thing.
Monday, September 17, 2012
tri and tri again
I finished my very first triathlon yesterday. It was maybe the most fun I've ever had at a race, maybe save for the 25k I did last April that was so hard but felt so great. Oh, and the first time I ran the TC 10 mile. Well, my first marathon would have to be up there. Ok, so I've had a few super fun races, but this one is right up there. I had zero expectations, since I could only run/walk the 5k, and had no idea what to expect with transitions and the swim. I didn't know anything about the bike course, so I wasn't worried about the hills (which there were plenty of, btw). A few other folks from the run club were also competing, and it was great to see some of them in transitions and in the out-and-back run.
I'm glad I liked it, because a few weeks ago after a second glass of wine, I made the ill-advised, likely stupid decision to give a Half Ironman a go next June. I figure I'll have 10 weeks to train between the Virginia Beach marathon I'm running in March and the 70.3, so if I keep up some swimming and biking all winter, I'll be in ok shape. My goal will be to finish, that's it. I might do a few more shorter distance tris later in the summer next year, or be training for another marathon if I fail to BQ in Virginia. Time will tell. And, of course, this is all under the assumption my leg will heal up and stay strong. Most people would do more than one triathlon before signing up for a 70.3. Oh well.
As I was chatting with a new friend met at the tri, we decided that tris might be awesome or awful for the reason that it gives you the opportunity to buy lots more gear - you need three sport's worth of stuff instead of just running. And bike gear can add up fast. Just what I need - something else to spend money on.
And how funny is this: woman in front of me at packet pick-up was named Megan. When I went up to give my last name, she leaned over and said, "Kelly was my maiden name." I replied, "So your name was Megan Kelly?" To which she replied, "Yes, are you Megan Kelly?" I said that no, I wasn't but my sister is. She said, "Is she Megan Jean Kelly, the fast runner from Northfield?" Small world. I remembered my sister telling me stories about the other Megan Jean Kelly, and here she was, a new friend. She got into tris this summer and loved them. I can see why. Anyway, after I give myself a few days to recover, I'm going to try to get my winter training schedule going - planning runs, bikes, and swims each week. Here's to winter fitness!
I'm glad I liked it, because a few weeks ago after a second glass of wine, I made the ill-advised, likely stupid decision to give a Half Ironman a go next June. I figure I'll have 10 weeks to train between the Virginia Beach marathon I'm running in March and the 70.3, so if I keep up some swimming and biking all winter, I'll be in ok shape. My goal will be to finish, that's it. I might do a few more shorter distance tris later in the summer next year, or be training for another marathon if I fail to BQ in Virginia. Time will tell. And, of course, this is all under the assumption my leg will heal up and stay strong. Most people would do more than one triathlon before signing up for a 70.3. Oh well.
As I was chatting with a new friend met at the tri, we decided that tris might be awesome or awful for the reason that it gives you the opportunity to buy lots more gear - you need three sport's worth of stuff instead of just running. And bike gear can add up fast. Just what I need - something else to spend money on.
And how funny is this: woman in front of me at packet pick-up was named Megan. When I went up to give my last name, she leaned over and said, "Kelly was my maiden name." I replied, "So your name was Megan Kelly?" To which she replied, "Yes, are you Megan Kelly?" I said that no, I wasn't but my sister is. She said, "Is she Megan Jean Kelly, the fast runner from Northfield?" Small world. I remembered my sister telling me stories about the other Megan Jean Kelly, and here she was, a new friend. She got into tris this summer and loved them. I can see why. Anyway, after I give myself a few days to recover, I'm going to try to get my winter training schedule going - planning runs, bikes, and swims each week. Here's to winter fitness!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
There is no I in Team!
There were some really amazing moments from yesterday's marathon. And some pretty crappy ones too. Here's a recap.
We all know that I had a pretty nutzo taper. The hellacious shin pain drove me bat-shit crazy. I saw a sports masseuse for the first time ever a week before the race. And then again 4 days before. It helped tremendously with the pain, but I think it contributed to the heaviness that plagued my legs the entire race. And then on Monday, the woman who does gait analysis for the team watched me run and said my shoes were part of the problem. They were the right shoes for me 4 months ago, but I'm a stronger runner now and they were overcorrecting for a problem I no longer had. So she fit me in new shoes on Tuesday. So I had a whopping 2.13 miles run on them before the race. But I only have 3 small blisters! Still, I wouldn't recommend getting completely new styled shoes 5 days before a marathon. If for nothing else, the havoc it wreaks in your head.
But, the shoes were great and, will wonders never cease, I didn't have any trouble with my leg. I ran about a quarter mile to warm it up before the start (man, did I get a LOT of crazy looks), and it was tight at the start, but that was it. I felt a twinge at 15 and another around 21, but a twinge was it. It hurts like crazy now, but it made it through. Good job, leg.
When Wendi, the show whisperer, saw me run and determined my shoes were part of the problem, she also gave me some pointers on form. New shoes and new form the week of a race. Not advisable.
The bus ride to the starting line was interminable. Seriously, I thought they were taking us to Canada. And all I kept thinking was, "And I have to RUN this whole freaking way?" I've never taken a bus to the start line. Now I know to bring headphones and tune out.
One of the highlights of the race was when the F-16s blew over us at the end of The Star Spangled Banner. I got choked up, enough I had to wipe a tear. I don't even know why, since planes/military etc. are not my thing at all, but those jets, man, they are so impressive! Plus, I'm always so hyped up and nervous at that point before a race, just about anything could make me cry. They followed it up with, what else, the Top Gun theme song. Cheesy, but it worked.
I knew I was in trouble when I was comfortable, hot even, in my singlet before we even started. The humidity, a balmy 90%, made even the 66 degree temp tough to get going. All week the weather looked bad, which actually didn't stress me out as much as it normally does, I think because of the leg issues. There was a nice breeze in the morning, when it blew, but the first 13 were really tough in that heat. I never felt like I was holding back the pace; I felt like I was working hard from the first mile. After 17 the sky became overcast and the temp became much more manageable. If the race had started at 9:30, it would have been a completely different result.
My garmin lost signal at the start. So it took a bit to get it going again. And then because I wanted to beep at the mile markers, I hit lap at mile 1. Except I didn't hit lap, I hit stop. I lost about .4 mile and so I never really knew what my overall time was. I tried to figure out the math adding the missing time and subtracting how long it took to get to the start when we passed time clocks. Since I didn't know how close I really was, it may have been different if my watch had worked properly and I could have... Nope. I couldn't have run faster.
The first time you see the lake through the trees is stunning. I'm glad I looked at it because for most of the rest of the race, it hurt too much to turn my head to look at it again.
No matter what anyone says, this is not a flat course. It wouldn't classify as hilly, as there are no huge inclines, but the first 10 miles there are constant rolling hills. The first time I thought about quitting was mile 6. Keeping it together for 20 more miles, I'm considering that a win.
There were some amazing, amazing points of people cheering, and lots of dead space.
I did, though, have a personal race guide the first 13. A pal from the running group was a back-up for the 3:40 and 4:30 pacer guys in case either bonked. So he led me through the first half. He was outstanding - got me water and/or powerade at some of the stops so I could just blow through the center. Talked me through the tangents. Kept pumping me up. He would check in with the pacers and then come back to check on me. When I screwed up my garmin at the start he told me to take a deep breath and let it go. No big deal. As hard as those first 13 were, I don't think I could have run them that well without George. How lucky was I?!?
I had a hard time keeping my mantra going in my head. I was busy trying to do math and it was hard enough just to focus on my new form and my breathing. I looked at my homemade pace chart and tried to concentrate on the person or event I wanted to focus on at each mile past 10. But it was really hard to concentrate today. My goal had been to start out at 8:25-8:30 for the first 5, then drop down to 8:15 through 10-13 depending on how I felt, and then run 8 flats into the finish. I never could drop below 8:15s. Which would have been ok except for mile 20-21, when I ran a 9 and an 8:42. Screwed the BQ plan all up.
After 13, I ran the next 4 or so on my own and then had another amazing pit crew jump in with me. Elaina, Carrie, and Beth all ran with me through most of the last 10. They asked me when I needed water or gatorade or ice or sponges. Incredible!! And since Carrie and Elaina were wearing the same pink team singlet as me, we got SO many awesome cheers from the crowd. "Go Team Pink (or Team Purple!)" [it's hard to tell the color] "Girl Power!" "You ladies look so strong!" In the last 6 miles, I don't think we went more than 2 minutes without someone cheering for us. I have amazing teammates.
I miscalculated my math at 20 and thought I had more time than I did to still make it. Mile 20 was a tough one. I kept telling myself, "Calhoun and Harriet. Calhoun and Harriet." But I couldn't keep my legs turning over fast enough. I think I moaned at one point. I started to get the chills. At this point, I was sopping wet and the sky had become overcast. So I was in this weird hot but also cold state.
Lemon Drop was not awful, but the fact that you can see it for almost a mile makes it seem worse than it is. I told my running crew I might have to walk up it. Carrie told me at lunch that she wanted to tell me, "Like hell you are." But she told me that Lemon Drop had nothing on Puke's Peak (this really tremendous hill from that Ron Daws race I did in April). She was right, of course, and I did run the whole thing without losing too much time. But any hill is killer at 22.
At mile 24, I thought there was still a chance I could qualify. Remember, I was 24 miles into a marathon and trying to do complicated addition and subtraction with splits. So I picked it up a tiny bit which was so so so hard. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. I kept wondering how awful it really would be if I dropped out at 25. I didn't actually consider it, but I did think it.
I slowed a little up the last few inclines in mile 25, but then with a half mile I dropped time again. I ran the last .2 at almost 7:10 pace. Seriously? Where did that come from? I thought I was closer to qualifying than I was. I felt a little stupid for killing myself at the end when I was way off, but a friend said she was watching the finish line streaming on the website and that I looked really strong. So there's that.
I'm going through waves of feeling proud for my 14:43 pr and feeling desperately disappointed with the extra 46 seconds. That's 2 seconds per mile. Just 2 seconds! A BQ is such a contrived goal, but it is there. And lots made it happen this spring. I guess the good news is that I know I can do it. Yesterday just wasn't my day for it.
We all know that I had a pretty nutzo taper. The hellacious shin pain drove me bat-shit crazy. I saw a sports masseuse for the first time ever a week before the race. And then again 4 days before. It helped tremendously with the pain, but I think it contributed to the heaviness that plagued my legs the entire race. And then on Monday, the woman who does gait analysis for the team watched me run and said my shoes were part of the problem. They were the right shoes for me 4 months ago, but I'm a stronger runner now and they were overcorrecting for a problem I no longer had. So she fit me in new shoes on Tuesday. So I had a whopping 2.13 miles run on them before the race. But I only have 3 small blisters! Still, I wouldn't recommend getting completely new styled shoes 5 days before a marathon. If for nothing else, the havoc it wreaks in your head.
But, the shoes were great and, will wonders never cease, I didn't have any trouble with my leg. I ran about a quarter mile to warm it up before the start (man, did I get a LOT of crazy looks), and it was tight at the start, but that was it. I felt a twinge at 15 and another around 21, but a twinge was it. It hurts like crazy now, but it made it through. Good job, leg.
When Wendi, the show whisperer, saw me run and determined my shoes were part of the problem, she also gave me some pointers on form. New shoes and new form the week of a race. Not advisable.
The bus ride to the starting line was interminable. Seriously, I thought they were taking us to Canada. And all I kept thinking was, "And I have to RUN this whole freaking way?" I've never taken a bus to the start line. Now I know to bring headphones and tune out.
One of the highlights of the race was when the F-16s blew over us at the end of The Star Spangled Banner. I got choked up, enough I had to wipe a tear. I don't even know why, since planes/military etc. are not my thing at all, but those jets, man, they are so impressive! Plus, I'm always so hyped up and nervous at that point before a race, just about anything could make me cry. They followed it up with, what else, the Top Gun theme song. Cheesy, but it worked.
I knew I was in trouble when I was comfortable, hot even, in my singlet before we even started. The humidity, a balmy 90%, made even the 66 degree temp tough to get going. All week the weather looked bad, which actually didn't stress me out as much as it normally does, I think because of the leg issues. There was a nice breeze in the morning, when it blew, but the first 13 were really tough in that heat. I never felt like I was holding back the pace; I felt like I was working hard from the first mile. After 17 the sky became overcast and the temp became much more manageable. If the race had started at 9:30, it would have been a completely different result.
My garmin lost signal at the start. So it took a bit to get it going again. And then because I wanted to beep at the mile markers, I hit lap at mile 1. Except I didn't hit lap, I hit stop. I lost about .4 mile and so I never really knew what my overall time was. I tried to figure out the math adding the missing time and subtracting how long it took to get to the start when we passed time clocks. Since I didn't know how close I really was, it may have been different if my watch had worked properly and I could have... Nope. I couldn't have run faster.
The first time you see the lake through the trees is stunning. I'm glad I looked at it because for most of the rest of the race, it hurt too much to turn my head to look at it again.
No matter what anyone says, this is not a flat course. It wouldn't classify as hilly, as there are no huge inclines, but the first 10 miles there are constant rolling hills. The first time I thought about quitting was mile 6. Keeping it together for 20 more miles, I'm considering that a win.
There were some amazing, amazing points of people cheering, and lots of dead space.
I did, though, have a personal race guide the first 13. A pal from the running group was a back-up for the 3:40 and 4:30 pacer guys in case either bonked. So he led me through the first half. He was outstanding - got me water and/or powerade at some of the stops so I could just blow through the center. Talked me through the tangents. Kept pumping me up. He would check in with the pacers and then come back to check on me. When I screwed up my garmin at the start he told me to take a deep breath and let it go. No big deal. As hard as those first 13 were, I don't think I could have run them that well without George. How lucky was I?!?
I had a hard time keeping my mantra going in my head. I was busy trying to do math and it was hard enough just to focus on my new form and my breathing. I looked at my homemade pace chart and tried to concentrate on the person or event I wanted to focus on at each mile past 10. But it was really hard to concentrate today. My goal had been to start out at 8:25-8:30 for the first 5, then drop down to 8:15 through 10-13 depending on how I felt, and then run 8 flats into the finish. I never could drop below 8:15s. Which would have been ok except for mile 20-21, when I ran a 9 and an 8:42. Screwed the BQ plan all up.
After 13, I ran the next 4 or so on my own and then had another amazing pit crew jump in with me. Elaina, Carrie, and Beth all ran with me through most of the last 10. They asked me when I needed water or gatorade or ice or sponges. Incredible!! And since Carrie and Elaina were wearing the same pink team singlet as me, we got SO many awesome cheers from the crowd. "Go Team Pink (or Team Purple!)" [it's hard to tell the color] "Girl Power!" "You ladies look so strong!" In the last 6 miles, I don't think we went more than 2 minutes without someone cheering for us. I have amazing teammates.
I miscalculated my math at 20 and thought I had more time than I did to still make it. Mile 20 was a tough one. I kept telling myself, "Calhoun and Harriet. Calhoun and Harriet." But I couldn't keep my legs turning over fast enough. I think I moaned at one point. I started to get the chills. At this point, I was sopping wet and the sky had become overcast. So I was in this weird hot but also cold state.
Lemon Drop was not awful, but the fact that you can see it for almost a mile makes it seem worse than it is. I told my running crew I might have to walk up it. Carrie told me at lunch that she wanted to tell me, "Like hell you are." But she told me that Lemon Drop had nothing on Puke's Peak (this really tremendous hill from that Ron Daws race I did in April). She was right, of course, and I did run the whole thing without losing too much time. But any hill is killer at 22.
At mile 24, I thought there was still a chance I could qualify. Remember, I was 24 miles into a marathon and trying to do complicated addition and subtraction with splits. So I picked it up a tiny bit which was so so so hard. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. I kept wondering how awful it really would be if I dropped out at 25. I didn't actually consider it, but I did think it.
I slowed a little up the last few inclines in mile 25, but then with a half mile I dropped time again. I ran the last .2 at almost 7:10 pace. Seriously? Where did that come from? I thought I was closer to qualifying than I was. I felt a little stupid for killing myself at the end when I was way off, but a friend said she was watching the finish line streaming on the website and that I looked really strong. So there's that.
I'm going through waves of feeling proud for my 14:43 pr and feeling desperately disappointed with the extra 46 seconds. That's 2 seconds per mile. Just 2 seconds! A BQ is such a contrived goal, but it is there. And lots made it happen this spring. I guess the good news is that I know I can do it. Yesterday just wasn't my day for it.
Friday, June 15, 2012
I know I can
"The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference
between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over
hot coals."
- Hal Higdon, running writer and coach
Thursday, June 7, 2012
all kinds of crazy
The marathon is less than 10 days away and I am living in crazy town. I had to be talked off the ledge last night, and while I'm feeling better today, I definitely have pre-race crazy brain.
First, I seem to have developed tendonitis in my lower right leg. I'm not sure that's what it is, but after much time on the internet and comparing it to other instances of tendonitis I've had in other parts of my body, that is what I'm telling myself I have. It could be shin splints, a muscle tear, or worse, a stress fracture. But I'm not willing to go to the doctor and have them tell me I can't run this marathon, so I'm waiting to find out what it actually is until after the race. I'm going to see a sports masseuse tomorrow morning to see if she can do anything about my leg. If nothing else, it might help feel like I'm doing something rather than sitting around obsessing over my dumb leg.
Then, on Monday, I took a 15 minute ice bath in the afternoon. I've taken them before and though I can't say I love them, it is helpful. My left foot tingled and felt numb for basically the next 48 hours, so I was convinced I gave myself frostbite and my foot was going to turn black and fall off. My left glute started aching with sciatic pain, so I decided that the tingling was probably more likely sciatic nerve-related than frostbite-related, but I'm still watching for deadness.
Plus, we've had some amazing finishes lately on the team, with a bunch of folks qualifying for Boston for the first time. Which has been so exciting! And then once they finish, people turn to me and say, "You're next!" Feeling lots of pressure - from self and others - to make this a great race.
So basically, tapering sucks. You worry about losing fitness by not running. Or that the running you are doing will cause you to be tired and sluggish on race day. Every ache and pain you had during training is now front and center because you have too much time on your hands because you aren't running so you are thinking about it all the time. And now I have the anxiety of injury and pressure added on top.
I need to relax and take some deep breaths. I might go to the movies a couple of times just to stop thinking about the race. I know I'm ready for this race. I just need to get into the right frame for it. I've still got 9 days. Plenty of time.
First, I seem to have developed tendonitis in my lower right leg. I'm not sure that's what it is, but after much time on the internet and comparing it to other instances of tendonitis I've had in other parts of my body, that is what I'm telling myself I have. It could be shin splints, a muscle tear, or worse, a stress fracture. But I'm not willing to go to the doctor and have them tell me I can't run this marathon, so I'm waiting to find out what it actually is until after the race. I'm going to see a sports masseuse tomorrow morning to see if she can do anything about my leg. If nothing else, it might help feel like I'm doing something rather than sitting around obsessing over my dumb leg.
Then, on Monday, I took a 15 minute ice bath in the afternoon. I've taken them before and though I can't say I love them, it is helpful. My left foot tingled and felt numb for basically the next 48 hours, so I was convinced I gave myself frostbite and my foot was going to turn black and fall off. My left glute started aching with sciatic pain, so I decided that the tingling was probably more likely sciatic nerve-related than frostbite-related, but I'm still watching for deadness.
Plus, we've had some amazing finishes lately on the team, with a bunch of folks qualifying for Boston for the first time. Which has been so exciting! And then once they finish, people turn to me and say, "You're next!" Feeling lots of pressure - from self and others - to make this a great race.
So basically, tapering sucks. You worry about losing fitness by not running. Or that the running you are doing will cause you to be tired and sluggish on race day. Every ache and pain you had during training is now front and center because you have too much time on your hands because you aren't running so you are thinking about it all the time. And now I have the anxiety of injury and pressure added on top.
I need to relax and take some deep breaths. I might go to the movies a couple of times just to stop thinking about the race. I know I'm ready for this race. I just need to get into the right frame for it. I've still got 9 days. Plenty of time.
Monday, May 21, 2012
mantras
In my first marathon, my goal was to finish, but really, I had the goal to finish in under 4 hours. Never having tackled the marathon before, I only had been told how hard the last few miles are. Particularly at Twin Cities, which is a hard marathon at the end with a series of hills that are just killer after you've already run 20. So being my first, I had a stated goal of finishing, sometimes adding that I was hoping for a 4:15. But in my head, I knew that I was trained well enough to run under 4. And I ran a 3:55.
I had a mantra prepared that I said over and over and over again through the last 6 miles of the race. "Dig deep, trust in your training, you can do this." It was so central to my focus in those final miles that when I saw a friend at mile 23 I said, "I can do this" to her. She shouted back, "Yes you can!" As those last water stops went by, as people started walking, cramping, struggling, I just turned inward and focused. And I ran every single step of that race and beat my goal by 5 minutes.
Last fall, I did not have a mantra that I believed in strongly enough that it could get me through those last 6 miles. I was worried going into the race that I didn't have enough miles under my belt to run as well as I wanted to. Greece was wonderful, but it really screwed up my training. I had bonked in a half earlier that season, my first time ever, and that weighed heavily on me too. When a wave of doubt crashed through my brain at mile 20, I was so thrown it took 4 miles to pull myself back together. I walked a bunch, some with kind friends cheering me along, and I couldn't get my breathing and brain back under control. I snapped out of it at 24 and had a good final 2.2, but the lapse cost me 7 minutes off my time.
After that race, many people told me to stop feeling bad about 7 minutes. What's 7 minutes? It's only 7 minutes! But 7 minutes is a lot of time in a running race, even a marathon. People who don't run are the people who say these things. And yes, running a marathon is 95% of the work done in training and only 5% the race. But it's freaking hard not to put pressure on that race and end up ecstatic or devastated, since really, that's what you did all that training for.
I wish I didn't have a lot of pride wrapped up in the coming marathon. I have worked my tail off, week after week, beyond what I even thought was possible. I have set what I think and my coach thinks is a reasonable but challenging goal. It is going to hurt. It will be hard. And it is never a given in the unpredictable beast that is the marathon.
I'll have a lot of people cheering for me and pulling for me, and it is going to be great to count on that. But in the end, it comes down to what I tell myself in those last 6 miles. I'll be testing out new mantras over the next couple weeks so I have one that I believe in and that I know well enough that I can rely on it when my body wants to quit on me. I still like "trust in your training" because I really have trained ridiculously hard, and "dig deep" is always a good one. I'm thinking about something with strength as well as being calm, maybe just "strong and calm." I need to work on that one. Whatever it ends up being, I know it is going to get me through that 26.2 in a few weeks.
I had a mantra prepared that I said over and over and over again through the last 6 miles of the race. "Dig deep, trust in your training, you can do this." It was so central to my focus in those final miles that when I saw a friend at mile 23 I said, "I can do this" to her. She shouted back, "Yes you can!" As those last water stops went by, as people started walking, cramping, struggling, I just turned inward and focused. And I ran every single step of that race and beat my goal by 5 minutes.
Last fall, I did not have a mantra that I believed in strongly enough that it could get me through those last 6 miles. I was worried going into the race that I didn't have enough miles under my belt to run as well as I wanted to. Greece was wonderful, but it really screwed up my training. I had bonked in a half earlier that season, my first time ever, and that weighed heavily on me too. When a wave of doubt crashed through my brain at mile 20, I was so thrown it took 4 miles to pull myself back together. I walked a bunch, some with kind friends cheering me along, and I couldn't get my breathing and brain back under control. I snapped out of it at 24 and had a good final 2.2, but the lapse cost me 7 minutes off my time.
After that race, many people told me to stop feeling bad about 7 minutes. What's 7 minutes? It's only 7 minutes! But 7 minutes is a lot of time in a running race, even a marathon. People who don't run are the people who say these things. And yes, running a marathon is 95% of the work done in training and only 5% the race. But it's freaking hard not to put pressure on that race and end up ecstatic or devastated, since really, that's what you did all that training for.
I wish I didn't have a lot of pride wrapped up in the coming marathon. I have worked my tail off, week after week, beyond what I even thought was possible. I have set what I think and my coach thinks is a reasonable but challenging goal. It is going to hurt. It will be hard. And it is never a given in the unpredictable beast that is the marathon.
I'll have a lot of people cheering for me and pulling for me, and it is going to be great to count on that. But in the end, it comes down to what I tell myself in those last 6 miles. I'll be testing out new mantras over the next couple weeks so I have one that I believe in and that I know well enough that I can rely on it when my body wants to quit on me. I still like "trust in your training" because I really have trained ridiculously hard, and "dig deep" is always a good one. I'm thinking about something with strength as well as being calm, maybe just "strong and calm." I need to work on that one. Whatever it ends up being, I know it is going to get me through that 26.2 in a few weeks.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
as real as it may seem, it was only in my dreams...
I had a dream last night that I was running a marathon. I showed up to the starting line, and turned out I was the only person who signed up for the race. The race directors decided that since it was only me running the race, they didn't need to close down a course route. They just told me roughly where I should run through the city for 26.2 miles, and come back to the start line for my t-shirt. They told me I couldn't take any elevators when I was running through buildings, but I was encouraged to run through the art museum in town.
So off I ran, through skyways and up escalators. I did go through the art museum too. I kept asking people if I was going the right way, but no one knew what I was talking about. I knew I was on the right route when I saw a piece of construction paper stapled to a stake stuck in the ground with "13.1" written on it in crayon. At that point I was around 2 hours in and knew I couldn't get the BQ time I was shooting for, so I was pretty disappointed. I stopped at a crocodile-shaped port-a-potty, but the guy standing guard said that those were only for park patrons. I saw my parents a bit after that in the lobby of an office building, and they convinced me that I should maybe drop out of the race and that they'd buy me a new running shirt instead.
I haven't had a race-related dream before, but I'm pretty sure Grandma's is a little better attended than this "dream" race. And though I haven't run it before, I can't find anything about escalators or art museums on the website, so I think I'm safe there. I must be a little anxious about this marathon, more than in the past, as indicated by a dream over four weeks in advance. But I'm in the best shape I've ever been and, sluggish week aside, I'm feeling really ready for it. Time will tell.
So off I ran, through skyways and up escalators. I did go through the art museum too. I kept asking people if I was going the right way, but no one knew what I was talking about. I knew I was on the right route when I saw a piece of construction paper stapled to a stake stuck in the ground with "13.1" written on it in crayon. At that point I was around 2 hours in and knew I couldn't get the BQ time I was shooting for, so I was pretty disappointed. I stopped at a crocodile-shaped port-a-potty, but the guy standing guard said that those were only for park patrons. I saw my parents a bit after that in the lobby of an office building, and they convinced me that I should maybe drop out of the race and that they'd buy me a new running shirt instead.
I haven't had a race-related dream before, but I'm pretty sure Grandma's is a little better attended than this "dream" race. And though I haven't run it before, I can't find anything about escalators or art museums on the website, so I think I'm safe there. I must be a little anxious about this marathon, more than in the past, as indicated by a dream over four weeks in advance. But I'm in the best shape I've ever been and, sluggish week aside, I'm feeling really ready for it. Time will tell.
Monday, March 12, 2012
starting to pay off
In more ways than one, the running club has been paying off. First of all, I've mentioned already that it's been fun. I've met awesome people who, though they take their running very seriously, are not so obsessed they take themselves too seriously. I was worried about women who eat a carrot stick and a pumpkin seed and claim they are full. Nope, we eat waffles with whipped cream for brunch after 16 hard miles on a Sunday.
Aside from being fun, I've made huge improvements in just the first six weeks. Though I'm not sure my first 3 mile time trial was as fast as possible at the time, I ran last week's time trial a full 1:51 faster. That's over 35 seconds per mile dropped. I ran 3 miles in 20:52. 6:55/mile pace. Nutzo. The coach insists that if I continue doing the training as I'm doing, there's no reason I won't hit my goal at Grandma's. Cautious optimism.
I'm still sore a lot, and tired too. But it's a great sore and a great tired. I was thirsty and found just the right kool-aid.
Aside from being fun, I've made huge improvements in just the first six weeks. Though I'm not sure my first 3 mile time trial was as fast as possible at the time, I ran last week's time trial a full 1:51 faster. That's over 35 seconds per mile dropped. I ran 3 miles in 20:52. 6:55/mile pace. Nutzo. The coach insists that if I continue doing the training as I'm doing, there's no reason I won't hit my goal at Grandma's. Cautious optimism.
I'm still sore a lot, and tired too. But it's a great sore and a great tired. I was thirsty and found just the right kool-aid.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
checking in
Lots has been going on over here. Feeling a need to catch up.
First, I'm not going to lie, the marathon was disappointing. Not a surprising disappointment given the ups and downs of my training, but disappointing nonetheless. I was hoping I'd feel great. I did, for the first 18 miles. By mile 20, some doubt crept in and I couldn't push it out. My knees were killing me, as were my feet, and I started to lag behind the pacer I was staying with and walk a bit. Thank goodness for a dear friend at 20.5 who ran/walked close to a mile with me, chattering the whole time and boosting my confidence. So thankful for the friends and family between 21-23, which is the hardest part of a marathon for me. Got a second wind and was able to cross the finish going strong. Stopped my garmin running 7:50 pace at the end, and cursed about where that was in 20-22. But it just makes me think I DO have a faster marathon in me. As opposed to last time, I finished thinking, "Ok, when's the next one?" Hungry for more. Took a week off and slowly getting back into it. First run was wretched, but starting to feel better now.
Second, work is kicking my butt. I'm happy with what I'm doing, but having a hard time staying afloat. What else is new? I was observed today for faculty review by the chair of the department. She had lots of lovely things to say afterwards, so taking that as a good sign.
Lastly, things are progressing splendidly with the new boy. We have complicated schedules (he splits custody of his two daughters and with my evening classes and orchestra, our schedule doesn't sync well), so we don't get a ton of time to see each other, but we're making it work. I could share lots, but will narrow to one story. Last week I snuck out of work for a bit to meet him for lunch. He asked about my music background and in the course of the conversation I told him about this piece that I love that I played for my junior recital. When he was over last night, he asked if I had the piano part to the piece. He wants to learn it so we can play together.
Melt my heart.
Since I have gone on a date with a guy who, upon telling him I play violin, actually responded, "Ew. Why?" this was an unbelievable improvement. While I never needed a guy who was a musician himself, I've always looked for a guy who "gets" my commitment and passion for making music and won't complain if he has to occasionally go to a concert of mine. Maybe I've found it? It's still early, but really happy right now.
First, I'm not going to lie, the marathon was disappointing. Not a surprising disappointment given the ups and downs of my training, but disappointing nonetheless. I was hoping I'd feel great. I did, for the first 18 miles. By mile 20, some doubt crept in and I couldn't push it out. My knees were killing me, as were my feet, and I started to lag behind the pacer I was staying with and walk a bit. Thank goodness for a dear friend at 20.5 who ran/walked close to a mile with me, chattering the whole time and boosting my confidence. So thankful for the friends and family between 21-23, which is the hardest part of a marathon for me. Got a second wind and was able to cross the finish going strong. Stopped my garmin running 7:50 pace at the end, and cursed about where that was in 20-22. But it just makes me think I DO have a faster marathon in me. As opposed to last time, I finished thinking, "Ok, when's the next one?" Hungry for more. Took a week off and slowly getting back into it. First run was wretched, but starting to feel better now.
Second, work is kicking my butt. I'm happy with what I'm doing, but having a hard time staying afloat. What else is new? I was observed today for faculty review by the chair of the department. She had lots of lovely things to say afterwards, so taking that as a good sign.
Lastly, things are progressing splendidly with the new boy. We have complicated schedules (he splits custody of his two daughters and with my evening classes and orchestra, our schedule doesn't sync well), so we don't get a ton of time to see each other, but we're making it work. I could share lots, but will narrow to one story. Last week I snuck out of work for a bit to meet him for lunch. He asked about my music background and in the course of the conversation I told him about this piece that I love that I played for my junior recital. When he was over last night, he asked if I had the piano part to the piece. He wants to learn it so we can play together.
Melt my heart.
Since I have gone on a date with a guy who, upon telling him I play violin, actually responded, "Ew. Why?" this was an unbelievable improvement. While I never needed a guy who was a musician himself, I've always looked for a guy who "gets" my commitment and passion for making music and won't complain if he has to occasionally go to a concert of mine. Maybe I've found it? It's still early, but really happy right now.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
to be happy...
"Who is the happier (wo)man? (S)he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or (s)he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?"
- Hunter S. Thompson
Here's to braving the storm of life. And living.
26.2.
Bring. It. On.
- Hunter S. Thompson
Here's to braving the storm of life. And living.
26.2.
Bring. It. On.
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