One of our most admired members of the Womens BQ group and Masters, Judy, has been at her daughter Katie's side for much of the past 14 months during her battle with leukemia. I'm going to copy and paste the news she shared this morning, along with her request for those who want to do something to honor Katie:
*****
Katie died peacefully yesterday evening. She fought her leukemia with quiet dignity, and touched the lives of many with her strength and grace. She gave us the gift of allowing us to love her and care for her at home for her last days. She is my hero.
There is a void in the world and in our hearts. Charlie and my daughter Julia have each other and Julia's fiance; our hearts ache for Katie's DBF, who had planned to marry Katie.
To honor Katie and save lives, please join the bone marrow registry and donate blood if you are eligible. Also, please support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society by donating via gettin older's TnT site.
Thank you, my dear BQ ladies , for all of your support. You have helped me so much throughout our ordeal. I thank each of you who has run in honor of Katie and with Katie in your hearts.
Thank you, thank you.
*****
Judy is greatly respected and loved by her fellow runner friends, and it's just a terrible thing to see your friend go through. Like many others, I've always wanted to sign up for the bone marrow registry but just hadn't done it yet-until today. It's free to sign up and only takes a few minutes-so I would encourage any of you reading this to sign up and spread the word. You could save somebody's life by taking a few minutes to fill out the online paperwork, completing the test once you receive the kit, and sending it back (postage paid). You can access the registry here or copy and paste the following link:
http://www.marrow.org/JOIN/index.html
And, again, please pass this link on to anyone you might know who would like to join the registry. Thanks.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
This Guy Has The BEST Race Photos Ever
Right here
I randomly found this guy's photos when I was checking out my own, and going through the lost and found to see if there were any more. They're awesome so I thought I'd share them here.
Not only did he run in the plaid shirt, plaid tie and outdoorsman/camping-type shorts, he had to have come through pretty fast because the lady in the first few shots is from my city, and was the fourth female overall/masters champion. That's what running SHOULD be all about-ENJOYING your hard work and training, and not just having tunnel vision on checking off training runs or pursuing PR's without joy. I hope his enthusiasm makes you smile like the guy right behind him in the last photo.
And, I must say....he caught some big air! Wow. I'm just getting better these days at lifting the knees, and not falling on my face.
I randomly found this guy's photos when I was checking out my own, and going through the lost and found to see if there were any more. They're awesome so I thought I'd share them here.
Not only did he run in the plaid shirt, plaid tie and outdoorsman/camping-type shorts, he had to have come through pretty fast because the lady in the first few shots is from my city, and was the fourth female overall/masters champion. That's what running SHOULD be all about-ENJOYING your hard work and training, and not just having tunnel vision on checking off training runs or pursuing PR's without joy. I hope his enthusiasm makes you smile like the guy right behind him in the last photo.
And, I must say....he caught some big air! Wow. I'm just getting better these days at lifting the knees, and not falling on my face.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Other Half Race Report
Or, alternately titled..Forget More Cowbell...It's All About the Drums!
Background: So, this was my very first half marathon two years ago. It was the culmination of an unlikely spur-of-the-moment decision I'd made after exactly one 5K to join a group of runners training for this race while fundraising for Girls on the Run. I had a terrific time on the beautiful course two years prior, going from "just finish" as my goal to eventually arriving at a sub-2:00 stretch goal, which I squeaked in on in 2007 with a 1:58:XX finish time. I was extremely bummed last year that I had to miss the race, but it was just too close to my fall marathon, where I was trying to BQ. I was SO happy this time around that I had four weeks between this race and my fall marathon. There's something special about this race that I just can't put into words.
Pre-Race: I started out the week before the race getting really sick. I was ticked and frustrated, and wondered if my race was going down the drain before I had a chance to run it. I was also a little unsure about how I'd do with my superstretch goal of 1:39, stretch of 1:42 and gimme to set a new PR (sub 1:46, basically). I have been doing a freewheeling plan all summer and fall of my own, not necessarily focusing on certain types of runs and speed work, but focusing on what I felt were weaker points for me as they related to my fall races. I spent time on trails to improve trail form for Imogene and work on hills.
I also worked on stuff that would come up in this race and would be helpful to practice. Kind of my "signature run" for the late summer and early fall was one in which I'd start at my house, run downhill to our river trail at about marathon pace or faster, spend some time down there, and then run the almost two miles back uphill to my house, trying to hold pace all the way back. It seemed like a good run to do considering that The Other Half doesn't start getting rolly and hilly until seven miles into the race. Here's what the race profile looks like:
That said, I wasn't feeling exceptionally confident and was wondering if I'd been wrong to just follow a "whatever I feel like doing" plan.
Race weekend: I showed up in Moab late on Saturday and met up with Ilana and Suzanne, and two of Suzanne's colleagues who were all staying with me Saturday night. After everyone had picked up their stuff and brought stuff into the hotel room, Ilana tailed me up to the parking lot near the finish to leave my car, and then we came back for dinner with all the ladies at Miguel's in downtown Moab. I always do Mexican for pre-race dinners, and Ilana and I got our pre-race margaritas too.
We learned that our hotel was being a stickler for no late checkouts, so after dinner we carefully laid out or stuff and kind of set things up so we'd be ready to check out at 6 a.m.
Race Day: We got up to what seemed like perfect weather for a race, scored some coffee, had some nibbles of food, and checked out of the hotel before heading to catch the bus. I had a slightly tight stomach but it wasn't sick so I wasn't too worried. None of us had much sleep beyond a few hours to start off the night-after that it was kind of the "kid on Christmas morning" deal where we all seemed to be laying there with our eyes closed.
We took the long bus ride to the start, and then alternately spent time in front of the fire pits and waiting in line for the port-a-potties. Just before the race start time, the sun started climbing over the red cliffs...just enough to make it cool and not frigid pre-race. After we ditched our warm-ups and sent them with the sweats truck, Ilana and I lined up kind of at the dividing point between the 7 and 8-minute mile signs. This was a gun timed only race-no chips-but we were pretty near the starting line so this seemed like a good spot. A few of the women who play the drums on the course were in the back of the truck at the start, drumming with anticipation of the starting gun. Right on schedule at 8:30, the gun fired, and we were off.
It seems that for these middle- to longer-distance events, I've had no happy mediums with how I've felt-it's either feeling good and not struggling, or just feeling yucky from the get-go. Today, I felt great as we started, and Ilana and I were even chatting intermittently. I knew pretty early that I shouldn't hold myself back unnecessarily, and that I ought to just take that "free energy" in the first half of the race.
Mile 1: 7:47
I continued to feel good through the next few miles. My breathing was under control (and, I noticed, more in control than some of the other women just a bit ahead of me) and I was relaxed.
Mile 2: 7:40
I kind of fumbled and dropped a Gatorade pass from the course volunteer-she gasped and thought she'd dropped it on me and I said "no, MY bad...I dropped it" and she'd already grabbed another one for me. Did I mention that these course volunteers are awesome?
Mile 3: 7:36
Going into mile 4...HELLO sun in the face! I was thankful for my hat and glasses and just kind of looked down at the asphalt. It was BRIGHT out there.
Mile 4: 7:28
Around here, it marked the beginning the first time I've done any real "testing" in a longer race. There were several women ahead of me, and their body language and breathing seemed off to me. I decided to push and creep up a bit to see how they were doing, and test the waters without necessarily planning to go well ahead of my pace just to get by them now. There were a few that I caught up to, and they in turn pushed harder. I had a feeling that if I just stayed consistent, some of them seemed like they were going to lose the early momentum on the hills, so I didn't kill myself trying to pass them at this point.
Mile 5: 7:40
Mile 6: 7:38
I got to the almost-halfway point feeling like I might be in that sweet spot on pace where I wouldn't blow up and have a huge positive split for the last few miles. I've done that in each of the last three halves I've run...and REALLY badly in June. It was ugly. The only time I didn't do this was at my very first half-this same race, two years ago. In that case, I was too conservative for the first seven miles and negative splitted in a fashion that showed I should have been out faster.
Okay, we're now building up to the large hill that comes around mile 8. It slows me down a bit but not much. I was right on my instinct that I could pass some folks moving into the second half.
Mile 7: 7:51
As we climb the big hill, nobody passed me, but I passed a few runners-both men and women. My heart rate got a little wacky feeling through here and my legs were a bit fatigued.
Mile 8: 8:15
I decided I needed a fifteen-second physical and mental reset, and when I grabbed some Gatorade at the 8-mile aid station, I walked briskly, allowing that heart rate to calm down a bit and to drink everything in that cup. It was really all I needed, and I felt like I had nipped bad stuff in the bud. I was back in the zone again.
The rolling hills kept coming, and I got into a rhythm on them, trying to build up momentum uphill and keep it going downhill with no braking. The Imogene race, and general trail running I've been doing really helped here because I wasn't afraid of getting so out of control that I'd trip and fall. I kept intermittently passing runners through the hills.
Mile 9: 7:43
Okay-now I was getting excited to know there were only a few miles left, and I wasn't feeling like I'd wasted all my energy before I really needed it. We still had more hills coming, and I was tiring and slowing some in spots but I would shake out my arms and try to consciously do things to stay loose.
Mile 10: 8:05
Now I can start to hear the distant drums of the women who sit at the top of the last hill. It's a beautiful sound and just keeps me going, and turns attention away from any aches and fatigue trying to set in at this point.
Mile 11: 7:39
Here we go....up that last hill. I know it's the last one, yet my mind thinks the same way it did two years ago and kind of gets tricked into thinking there's one more after. I approach the drumming ladies, wave, smile and clap for them. They are awesome, and one of my many favorite things about this race.
Mile 12: 7:46
Okay. For a first in a half marathon, I felt like I had it in me to absolutely cut loose in that final 1.1. Just a short way back, there had been a woman wearing a shirt with a message on the back that just clicked big-time. It said REST LATER and even though I probably could have just kept up status quo, and told myself that I was working as hard as I could, I thought "YES!" and knew that there was no other choice but killing it until I crossed the finish line.
I turned my legs over as fast as I possibly could, getting as much push off the ground as I could muster, and kind of mentally pretended I was racing a 5K. I continued passing people as turned into Sorrel River Ranch for THE longest finish chute I've ever seen at a race. I passed three women and a few men within the stretch of about two tenths of a mile, fully expecting a response as I continued to accelerate, but was surprised that there was no response.
Mile 13: 6:59
Okay, this is it! I could see the time clock, still ticking in the 1:40:XX range. If I'd known better when I first saw the time clock I would've realized that there was no way I was going to make it before it switched over to 1:41:xx, but thank goodness my running math is terrible. It gave me even more incentive to throttle through to the finish.
Last .16 as measured by Garmin: :59, or a 6:14 pace, and I slapped my Garmin off at exactly the same time the official results had me: 1:41:06. A new PR in the half marathon by more than five minutes. I kind of flopped and staggered out of the chute, and had someone ask if I was okay. I assured them that I was okay, and just needed to find a spot to stand and collect myself for a few minutes, which I did as I brough my breathing back down from the deep breathless gasps I was making as I crossed the finish (MAN, I do NOT want to see the photos they took at the finish line. I KNOW they are going to be ugly!)
I did not reach my my super-stretch goal, but honestly, I set each of my goals pretty aggressively so I was thrilled. I never hit 60 miles per week like I wanted to this training cycle, but I think consistently getting around 50 miles per week with work specific to my weak points and specific to the courses I'd be racing did more good than I thought. I'm thinking that with continued tackling of my weak spots, AND increasing mileage of the winter, I might be looking at a possibility of hitting that NYC marathon guaranteed entry qualifying standard at a spring half marathon.
My final placements were 74/1517 overall, 8/181 age group, 20/1027 women. (There are some slight corrections and changes here from when I first viewed the results in total numbers, but my position's stayed the same.)
This was also almost an 18 minute race PR from my time two years ago, but let's put huge asterisks on that. It was my first half marathon, I'd been averaging 15-25 miles per week then, and had topped out at about 30 miles training then.
I feel really good about this. I don't know if I can knock off a huge chunk of time again in the spring, but it certainly motivates me to be just outside of those regional ladies.
Ilana and Suzanne had great races too, with Ilana finishing third out of her age group, but due to overalls and Masters winners coming out, she won her division, and got a very swanky KoKoPelli trophy. As I continued to bump into and chat with other running acquaintances, it seemed that everyone had a good time out there, with race goals met by many. This is not a huge surprise-we had perfect weather conditions, and the race crew in Moab is just second-to-none, so there were no course problems to contend with.
Where does this leave me? Well, for one, more comfortable with the idea of just running and spending time on my feet and not needing to be a stickler to a cookie cutter training plan. I've been doing things that I think will benefit me, strengthen my weaker points, and help sharpen my racing skills. I know that more mileage would be beneficial to me, so I'm going to make some choices this winter with scheduling that'll make it easier to get in more miles. My "5k's as speed work" plan really wasn't as bad an idea as I thought, and I'm going to keep entering them, but I'm also going to get back into regular speed work sessions during the week. Will I do them exactly as Pete Pfitzinger dictates? Not sure. I may compare the 18/55 and 18/70 plans, and hit a happy medium between the two. The downhill/river trail/uphill route paid clear dividends this weekend, so I'm going to keep working that route.
I also learned that if you get sick-an extreme taper is okay. I was itching to run most of the week, and I know Ilana was too as she'd been sick and trying to rest up too. Both of us resisted the urge to run more than we should when we were sick, and trusted that we'd done enough leading up to race day. I am so glad I didn't throw in extra miles here and there just for the sake of keeping up mileage that week. I might not have been healthy and recovered the way I was for race day.
So, that's everything! Two days after the fact, I am feeling pretty good-surprisingly good. So, we'll resume a normal running week, and then get right back into a taper for my fall marathon.
Friday, October 16, 2009
I'm Officially Official
Because I am a total nerd about being a first-timer getting ready to run Boston next spring, I just have to share my celebratory moment this Friday. The vague note on the BAA website that entry lists would be posted "in mid-October" has caused me to check it three and four times a day starting about a week ago. I know, pathetic, right? Well, this has been a week in which I got REALLY darn sick Monday night (my son's class was missing half its students and the teacher that day, and another school closed Thursday and Friday this week due to widespread illness) and have spent the rest of the week literally running behind, and trying to rest and recover before the last half marathon I'll be able to run for about six months. I'm tired. I've been pretty grouchy, to be honest. So-when I did my random check a little while ago, I geeked out to find that the search mechanism had replaced the "check back in mid-October" message. I entered my vitals, and whoosh, up popped all my information.
Of course, it was sort of anticlimactic, because I noted that the BAA had made a giant sucking sound from my bank account about two weeks ago, but it was still fun to see it there in print. Right now, I appear to be the only person from my city entered, but we've got a guy locally who finished top-500 last year, and does well at everything from 5K's, to the Leadville Trail 100, so I am betting he'll be back again.
In taper madness weather watching for Moab this weekend, I'm liking the Sunday forecast a little less. We've gone from cool and shady to low of 52, high of 80, and mostly sunny. It was mostly sunny at the Canyonlands Half and 5-miler last March. When my daughter and I finished the 5-miler and went back to watch the half, it wasn't pretty watching the half runners coming in in the 80 degree weather, so I'll have to do a little dance for the weather gods, and hope they like it enough to drop the temps and bring in a few clouds.
So, this is it.....last night at home before heading out for the first of me two "big" fall races! EEK! I'm going to keep pumping the fluids for the next day, try to sleep well tonight, and hope that by Sunday morning, I've kicked the remnants of this crud to the curb. I've found new and different ways to screw up half marathons each time I've race one, and I don't want to mess up another one by way of illness.
Of course, it was sort of anticlimactic, because I noted that the BAA had made a giant sucking sound from my bank account about two weeks ago, but it was still fun to see it there in print. Right now, I appear to be the only person from my city entered, but we've got a guy locally who finished top-500 last year, and does well at everything from 5K's, to the Leadville Trail 100, so I am betting he'll be back again.
In taper madness weather watching for Moab this weekend, I'm liking the Sunday forecast a little less. We've gone from cool and shady to low of 52, high of 80, and mostly sunny. It was mostly sunny at the Canyonlands Half and 5-miler last March. When my daughter and I finished the 5-miler and went back to watch the half, it wasn't pretty watching the half runners coming in in the 80 degree weather, so I'll have to do a little dance for the weather gods, and hope they like it enough to drop the temps and bring in a few clouds.
So, this is it.....last night at home before heading out for the first of me two "big" fall races! EEK! I'm going to keep pumping the fluids for the next day, try to sleep well tonight, and hope that by Sunday morning, I've kicked the remnants of this crud to the curb. I've found new and different ways to screw up half marathons each time I've race one, and I don't want to mess up another one by way of illness.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
When I Grow Up...
I want to be like Ruth Frith. And for the record, Mister Conan O'Brien, she threw the shotput much further than an inch.
I love that according to this profile, she watches the throws of the young whippersnappers in the 80-year-old age group, and tries to beat whatever they're doing. Not sure about her no veggie thing, but love most of her other straightforward and B.S.-Free thoughts and opinions. A childhood free of junk food, and being given the chance to pursue athletic activities was indeed the best possible foundation to become the butt-kicking grandma she is today.
I love that according to this profile, she watches the throws of the young whippersnappers in the 80-year-old age group, and tries to beat whatever they're doing. Not sure about her no veggie thing, but love most of her other straightforward and B.S.-Free thoughts and opinions. A childhood free of junk food, and being given the chance to pursue athletic activities was indeed the best possible foundation to become the butt-kicking grandma she is today.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Mostly clear. Highs 65 to 75. Lows in the 40s.
Yeah, baby. I am beginning to weather-stalk, and building mojo for next Sunday. Never mind that it's almost always nice in Moab. But first...tales of things not going smoothly in the week leading up to the big race.
First, let's start with my totally awesome wardrobe malfunctions this weekend. No, no Janet Jackson action. I literally could not find the clothes I wanted to run in Saturday....or my gels, or my new Clif Shot Roks that I knew I'd spotted somewhere in the house over the past week-but could not locate for the life of me. It was one of those cram-packed days when I couldn't wait to start, though, so I just sucked it up and headed out. Instead of going out appropriately dressed for a 6:30 a.m. start, I was freezing my butt off for about the first five miles with no gloves and a handheld water bottle doing the equivalent of brain freeze to my hand and arm. My knees were cold in my shorts-thank goodness for my Magic Rollergirl Socks to keep the calves warm!
The run itself wasn't all that terrible, though. I logged a bit over fourteen miles for my last long-ish run before The Other Half. It was a very important workout on my unofficial, make-it-up-as-you-go, schedule designed to work for Imogene, then a half, and finally a full. I can't begin to state how awkward I've felt stumbling my way through whatever seems like a good run that day, and hoping it all comes together. Part of me feels like I wasted a whole training cycle screwing around and not being serious, but the other part of me says that I needed to do what I've been doing-logging miles, running on feel, and not overthinking stuff. The 5K a little over a week ago was a decent confidence booster, so I'm not ready to throw my new way of doing things entirely out the window.
In more taper madness news-my kids thought this would be the best week in the world to become succeptible to upper respiratory stuff. My son, not to be outdone and as a way to stand out from his sisters, thought he'd throw in a little nausea to boot. Yay me! Everyone seems to be on the mend now, but that's been an added degree of difficulty to have to be overcautious, sucking down Emergen-C on a regular basis, and repeating "I will not get sick-I will not get sick" over and over .
Much like that itchy feeling one gets when you find out that there was a head lice outbreak at the neighborhood school, I've found myself overanalyzing the teenieset stomach ache, or wondering if that little sniffle means I'll have full blown double pneumonia in a few days. Good times. I know it's all just taper time crazy-think, but I can't seem to turn off the race week hypochondria. Oh well-I'm going to have the cleanest hands in the world with the amount of hand washing going on as I try to resist any evil germs or bacteria that would do me in if I gave them the chance.
First, let's start with my totally awesome wardrobe malfunctions this weekend. No, no Janet Jackson action. I literally could not find the clothes I wanted to run in Saturday....or my gels, or my new Clif Shot Roks that I knew I'd spotted somewhere in the house over the past week-but could not locate for the life of me. It was one of those cram-packed days when I couldn't wait to start, though, so I just sucked it up and headed out. Instead of going out appropriately dressed for a 6:30 a.m. start, I was freezing my butt off for about the first five miles with no gloves and a handheld water bottle doing the equivalent of brain freeze to my hand and arm. My knees were cold in my shorts-thank goodness for my Magic Rollergirl Socks to keep the calves warm!
The run itself wasn't all that terrible, though. I logged a bit over fourteen miles for my last long-ish run before The Other Half. It was a very important workout on my unofficial, make-it-up-as-you-go, schedule designed to work for Imogene, then a half, and finally a full. I can't begin to state how awkward I've felt stumbling my way through whatever seems like a good run that day, and hoping it all comes together. Part of me feels like I wasted a whole training cycle screwing around and not being serious, but the other part of me says that I needed to do what I've been doing-logging miles, running on feel, and not overthinking stuff. The 5K a little over a week ago was a decent confidence booster, so I'm not ready to throw my new way of doing things entirely out the window.
In more taper madness news-my kids thought this would be the best week in the world to become succeptible to upper respiratory stuff. My son, not to be outdone and as a way to stand out from his sisters, thought he'd throw in a little nausea to boot. Yay me! Everyone seems to be on the mend now, but that's been an added degree of difficulty to have to be overcautious, sucking down Emergen-C on a regular basis, and repeating "I will not get sick-I will not get sick" over and over .
Much like that itchy feeling one gets when you find out that there was a head lice outbreak at the neighborhood school, I've found myself overanalyzing the teenieset stomach ache, or wondering if that little sniffle means I'll have full blown double pneumonia in a few days. Good times. I know it's all just taper time crazy-think, but I can't seem to turn off the race week hypochondria. Oh well-I'm going to have the cleanest hands in the world with the amount of hand washing going on as I try to resist any evil germs or bacteria that would do me in if I gave them the chance.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Sequel Time Already?
It seems like just yesterday, I was blogging about being able to get in my first evening runs of the spring with a little daylight to illuminate my path, and the lovely aroma of dinner blowing in the wind from the homes above my old faithful river trail haunts. Unbelievably, it's been seven months or so since those final weeks before my spring marathon in Kansas. Now, it's happening all over again-except that the days are getting shorter as I enjoy that fresh air and food smells.
I got in what I believe will be one of my final evening, outdoor mid-week medium-long runs for the season last night, enjoying that short, perfect season for running that we get for a few weeks each spring and each fall. It's that dry Western Colorado air that feels crisp-cold before the run begins, and turns into ideal shorts and short sleeve shirt weather once the body's moving and working up a sweat. Ira Glass, introducing stories of This American Life has been a regular running companion on the iPod as of late, and last night was no different. The miles go by as each story engages me, and it soon I'm nearly finished with my run without ever hitting a lull or wishing I could just get it over with already.
As the moon climbed in the night sky and stars became visible, I realized that I could see just fine. So, instead of running the two miles back to my home from the river trail to finish up my run on the treadmill, I kind of turned it into a mash-up of medium-long run with hill repeat-esque trips up all the cul-de-sacs in my neighborhood, which has a layout very similar to the terraced streets in the movie E.T. When I finally returned home, it was as if I hadn't done any work at all during those ten miles. It was just one of those great runs that once again reminds me why I love to run, and leaves me with a need to take to the roads again very soon.
So, where does this leave me? Did I mention that my fall half-marathon comes up in eleven days, and I'm suddenly finding myself itchy with that madness of taper? It doesn't matter that it's not a full marathon. The symptoms of the madness are the same.
I've already started to check weather forecasts for Moab, and keep reminding myself, thanks to a Running Times column I read last year, that I should really get in to Goodwill to find the funkiest, ugliest, warmest coat possible that nobody else will buy so that I can have something to wear pre-race. Everyone may get a good laugh at me, but I will laugh last when I'm not the Human Popsicle after huddling with the masses around the fire pits at the start for ninety minutes, like we did at this race two years ago.
The next most likely symptom of this madness should be obsession over pacing-and whether I should just go with the flow or formulate a very specific pacing strategy. After using ten year age groups for the first five runnings of The Other Half, the race moves to five year age groups this year. I made the mistake of looking up last year's results and counting down the women in my five year age group (OCD much? That's me!). IF I can run the race of my life-and IF no other woman in my age group runs the race of her life, I have a VERY outside chance to squeak into a placing slot. I've had bad luck with my two aggressive half starts, though, so I'm thinking that taking a chill pill might be the best strategy after all. As last night's run reminded me, sometimes it's just good to give in to all your senses, and let the good running happen without forcing things.
Monday, October 5, 2009
More Tales From The Brink of Nausea-A 5K Race Report
This is a race in which I've participated twice before, held in honor of a cross country runner at a local high school who was killed in a car accident on her way to practice seven years ago. Sounds like something that could be horribly depressing, but it's really a feel-good type of deal-and I'm not routinely a feel-good type of girl. Her family and friends have always been involved, and the high school cross country race that follows the citizen's race is a big home meet for her high school. The entry fees go toward scholarships for student athletes at area high schools, so it's an event where I don't groan too much about shelling out for it.
When I first ran this race two years ago, it was the first race in which I'd ever placed in age group, and last year I paced my daughter. I was just getting started with serious training in 2007, and running less than half of my current mileage with very limited race experience, so it was sort of a question mark day for me this year as far as what to expect.
The weather was pretty fantastic for racing-cold, sunny, no wind. I'd taken the day off yesterday, and had a good mileage week before today so I was feeling optimistic about running, and had already decided I was not going to psych myself out over the inevitable slew of fast women who all seem to turn out for this race. I said hello to Carl and JoAnn from my neighborhood, as well as other usual suspects, got in a brief warm-up, and lined up near the front.
I planned to use the strategy I employed earlier in the summer that seems to work for me of going out as hard as I can, and just push and hang on to that as long as I can. I think I spent two years trying to hold back slightly and then have a big finishing kick in 5K's, and was never able to have much success with that. I seem to actually be kicking harder these days at the finish with the harder starts I've been trying, so the plan was to go with that today and not preoccupy myself with what everyone else was doing. After two failed attempts to get the air horn to sound at the start, our starter just gave us a "Ready-GO!" and off we went.
There was a small pack of men that launched pretty quickly, and what seemed like a short string of us ladies, probably six or seven of us, trying to stay near the front from the get-go. After initially trying to jump out front, there were two women who easily moved ahead of me but I just kept running hard and didn't think much about it. There were a few other ladies who just kind of eased past me, but not blowing by either, as we approached the halfway to the first mile. I stayed relaxed and felt that good burn in the lungs of being about where I should be pace-wise as I finished the first mile.
Mile 1: 6:33
The second mile contains a lot of twists and turns on both paved and rocky/gravel paths. Here, a woman passed me while still on the paved section. As we moved to gravel, though, I could hear her struggling with her breathing and body language didn't look good. A runner just a little bit ahead of me flew past her, and then I moved on ahead as well. This to me is the hardest section of the route. It's fairly flat but has sort of an uphill feel as we wind around the lake and start heading back to finish the first loop on the course, and set out for the shorter second loop.
Coming to the end of the first mile, I see that my husband and kids have arrived to watch. My husband hollers out my name, and the girls yell "Go Mom!" My son, ever the comedian, almost made me bust up laughing when he shouted out encouragement, calling me by my first name. Not now, son-mom is having enough time trying to breathe and put one foot in front of the other.
Mile 2: 6:56
So, OUCH. I am feeling it now. But, I think I'm decent at mentally toughing through that last 1.1 as the body starts to tire. Somewhere along here I think "what is that feeling?" as my compression sock seems to be NOT compressing and sliding down my left calf. I must've accidentally tucked or flipped it funny or something, but I was not about to break my momentum to monkey with it. As we were hitting about the 2.5 mile point I could feel it sliding all the way down to my ankle. Oh well. It can just stay there now. This was all after I talked to a friend pre-race who has an upcoming leg surgery about how great these socks are, and how welll they stay put. Oops.
We make a turn through a wooded, curving section of trail that meets up again with a stretch of parking area, and I charge with all I've got to the three mile point, and last turn toward the finish.
Mile 3: 7:06.
I can see the finish but it looks REALLY far away. Okay-best way to get closer is to run fast to that point, right? :P I pick up the turnover as much as I can on the straight shot in to the finish.
Last .1 (measured .12 on Garmin): :50 seconds, 6:51 pace, final time 21:26 which is more than a four minute PR from the last time I raced this for myself two years ago (I think I felt WORSE during that race too! ). Good enough for 22nd overall, and 1st in the 30-39 AG. I'm not sure but I believe I was 6th out of all the women-I might be off a spot or two, though. My prize was the traditional ceramic banana medal, made by students from the race namesake's high school, with a number one painted on it.
This wasn't a 5K PR for me but I think that was about the third fastest I've run, and on a XC course I'm really pleased with that. I've done SOME speed work this summer and fall but not a ton-mostly just trying to log the miles and spend time on my feet, so I think this was a decent result given that I haven't stuck to strictly regimented training lately.
So that's it! Thanks for reading. I had a lot of fun at this race today and it's giving me confidence for my half in a few weeks.
When I first ran this race two years ago, it was the first race in which I'd ever placed in age group, and last year I paced my daughter. I was just getting started with serious training in 2007, and running less than half of my current mileage with very limited race experience, so it was sort of a question mark day for me this year as far as what to expect.
The weather was pretty fantastic for racing-cold, sunny, no wind. I'd taken the day off yesterday, and had a good mileage week before today so I was feeling optimistic about running, and had already decided I was not going to psych myself out over the inevitable slew of fast women who all seem to turn out for this race. I said hello to Carl and JoAnn from my neighborhood, as well as other usual suspects, got in a brief warm-up, and lined up near the front.
I planned to use the strategy I employed earlier in the summer that seems to work for me of going out as hard as I can, and just push and hang on to that as long as I can. I think I spent two years trying to hold back slightly and then have a big finishing kick in 5K's, and was never able to have much success with that. I seem to actually be kicking harder these days at the finish with the harder starts I've been trying, so the plan was to go with that today and not preoccupy myself with what everyone else was doing. After two failed attempts to get the air horn to sound at the start, our starter just gave us a "Ready-GO!" and off we went.
There was a small pack of men that launched pretty quickly, and what seemed like a short string of us ladies, probably six or seven of us, trying to stay near the front from the get-go. After initially trying to jump out front, there were two women who easily moved ahead of me but I just kept running hard and didn't think much about it. There were a few other ladies who just kind of eased past me, but not blowing by either, as we approached the halfway to the first mile. I stayed relaxed and felt that good burn in the lungs of being about where I should be pace-wise as I finished the first mile.
Mile 1: 6:33
The second mile contains a lot of twists and turns on both paved and rocky/gravel paths. Here, a woman passed me while still on the paved section. As we moved to gravel, though, I could hear her struggling with her breathing and body language didn't look good. A runner just a little bit ahead of me flew past her, and then I moved on ahead as well. This to me is the hardest section of the route. It's fairly flat but has sort of an uphill feel as we wind around the lake and start heading back to finish the first loop on the course, and set out for the shorter second loop.
Coming to the end of the first mile, I see that my husband and kids have arrived to watch. My husband hollers out my name, and the girls yell "Go Mom!" My son, ever the comedian, almost made me bust up laughing when he shouted out encouragement, calling me by my first name. Not now, son-mom is having enough time trying to breathe and put one foot in front of the other.
Mile 2: 6:56
So, OUCH. I am feeling it now. But, I think I'm decent at mentally toughing through that last 1.1 as the body starts to tire. Somewhere along here I think "what is that feeling?" as my compression sock seems to be NOT compressing and sliding down my left calf. I must've accidentally tucked or flipped it funny or something, but I was not about to break my momentum to monkey with it. As we were hitting about the 2.5 mile point I could feel it sliding all the way down to my ankle. Oh well. It can just stay there now. This was all after I talked to a friend pre-race who has an upcoming leg surgery about how great these socks are, and how welll they stay put. Oops.
We make a turn through a wooded, curving section of trail that meets up again with a stretch of parking area, and I charge with all I've got to the three mile point, and last turn toward the finish.
Mile 3: 7:06.
I can see the finish but it looks REALLY far away. Okay-best way to get closer is to run fast to that point, right? :P I pick up the turnover as much as I can on the straight shot in to the finish.
Last .1 (measured .12 on Garmin): :50 seconds, 6:51 pace, final time 21:26 which is more than a four minute PR from the last time I raced this for myself two years ago (I think I felt WORSE during that race too! ). Good enough for 22nd overall, and 1st in the 30-39 AG. I'm not sure but I believe I was 6th out of all the women-I might be off a spot or two, though. My prize was the traditional ceramic banana medal, made by students from the race namesake's high school, with a number one painted on it.
This wasn't a 5K PR for me but I think that was about the third fastest I've run, and on a XC course I'm really pleased with that. I've done SOME speed work this summer and fall but not a ton-mostly just trying to log the miles and spend time on my feet, so I think this was a decent result given that I haven't stuck to strictly regimented training lately.
So that's it! Thanks for reading. I had a lot of fun at this race today and it's giving me confidence for my half in a few weeks.
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