Category Archives: Racing

It’s Here!

2 Replies

That’s right folks. Marathon training officially BEGUN! I feel psyched, ready, and admittedly a little nervous.

I kicked off my official training plan this morning with 8 miles, including 10 x 100 meter strides. I didn’t  wear a watch, so both my effort and distance on the strides were all by guess-timation, but they were actually fairly enjoyable! I liked the switch-up in turnover rate. I feel like I have a decent gauge of what 100 meters looks/feels like from my track days, so essentially I just picked objects in the distance and sprinted to them. A little fartlek-y. Ugh, talk about making a gross word grosser. But you get the point. It was a good run.

I really liked doing weekly recaps when I was training for Chicago, so I’ll do my best to get my training weeks up here on Mondays. Some of you might find them boring, so I apologize, but they really help me a lot—so, yea…sorry?

I’m very much equal parts excited and nervous for this marathon training kick-off to begin. Excited  because, as I’ve said before, I’ve never quite had the base like I do now. I’m anxious to apply the  running I’ve been doing these past 3 or so months into a very structured training schedule. My miles won’t end up being all that much higher than what I’ve already been doing, however they will be much more strategic and organized than what I’ve done in the past. I’m releasing the reigns, in other words, and I love it. Letting the expertise of others feels like the right approach this time around, and hopefully the results will reflect that decision.

However, I’m a little ball of worry about this spring as well. Historically, spring has not been good for me training-wise. Two years ago, after a half-marathon and way too much over-training/stupidity, I tore my hip flexor and was out until the beginning of July. I’m not really worried about something that extreme happening again (read: I like to think I am a much smarter/safer runner nowadays), but it’s more the haunting memories that get to me.

Also, last year I got sidelined with bad knee bursitis while training for this very same marathon. Luckily, due to some rest, cortisone, and rearranging, I was still able to run a Spring marathon (though not Eugene)….only to be struck down (literally) by a bad race and a heaping side of IT band syndrome.

In other words, spring has historically not been my strongest months. Which sucks, because the idea of spring running is always appealing to me. More sun! Flowers! Birds! Birthday month!

It’s time to reverse the cycle though. While I definitely don’t like the feeling that bad luck is waiting for me every time the calendar turns to March, I also know that prevention is the best weapon against almost all running-related plagues.

I’ll be switching up just about everything regarding this training schedule, and I’ll therefore also be switching up my dedication to injury prevention. It has always been easy for me to say that I’ll hold off if something hurts, and that I’ll stretch more, roll more, and ice anything that feels “off.” Doing these things is a whole other thing—and if there’s one thing I’ve learned through my bouts of training/recovering, it’s that training for a marathon requires much more than the miles.

So, you can consider this my oath to train both on and off the roads. I will not be brought down by another spring monster, in fact—I refuse it, and I’m trying to internalize the fact that I am actually in complete control of my training.

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

And speaking of such, I decided not to run the 25k race yesterday. After receiving the opinions from you lovely people, as well as a scary-tough-love opinion from my dear mother, I realized something: It wasn’t the distance that was an issue, it was the fact that it was a race.

Yes, no matter if it’s a months-in-the-making goal race, or a haphazard, low-key neighborhood run that happens to include bibs, I have a very hard time not racing a race. Even when I decide to “take it easy” or “promise I’m not going to race,” I will always run faster than I would have on a normal long run, and—should the opportunity be available—I will try to perform well. Last year, I won the 25k, and even though I would have vowed to not take this race seriously—I can guarantee I would have tried to win again.

Maybe I’m just a huge asshole. Maybe I’m just too competitive. Either way, I know myself well enough to know that “racing” 15.2 miles the day before marathon training is supposed to start wouldn’t go along with the theme of keeping myself healthy. It probably would have been fine, I probably would have had a great time, but even that ounce of possibility that it would have takne away from my planned training program wasn’t worth the risk.

So instead, I still ran long. I waved at people racing along the way, and although I was a little sad I wasn’t there with them—I was glad that I went against my instincts this time. Again, nothing changes if nothing changes—and if the decisions I’ve made in the past have lead me into injury-ridden corners of sadness, well, I’ll be steering clear of them.

And on one final, somewhat unrelated note, I give you a photo from the weekend:

photo

 

I cannot tell you how fun it was to spend a weekend day not running, sitting on the couch, shopping at Target, or running around trying to do every errand possible. Those things are good sometimes, but sometimes it’s better to switch it up by spending a day outside in the mountains.

My shins still hurt from my boots and my back still hurts from my bad posture, but Saturday was one of the best days I’ve had in a while. I can completely understand how people abandon all other weekend activities during the winter in favor of heading for the slopes and the snow.

And in a completely apbrupt, non-transitional ending to this post, have a good week everyone!

 

Seattle Half-Marathon Race Recap

16 Replies

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about running, it’s that you can never be too certain how it’s going to go. You can feel unstoppable and strong one day, and the next day you can feel like you’re moving through mud on the exact same run.

In other words, running—for the most part— isn’t necessarily predictable…which is why I’ve learned to not put all my eggs in one basket. I actually like this about running, because it takes a bit of the pressure off…and while sometimes this uncertainty leads to disappointment, it also can also lead to some pleasant surprises.

And Sunday was definitely a surprise.

SPOILER! I finished.

I truly did not know what to expect going into this race, other than it would be cold and there would be lots of hills on the course. I didn’t taper, I wasn’t exceptionally hydrated, and my eye wasn’t necessarily “on the prize.” I definitely have a big fancy dream time for a half-marathon, but I knew that this wouldn’t be the race for it. So, I went into it a little blindly…happy to shake off some of the turkey hangover and simply enjoy a run through my city.

As expected, Sunday morning was freezing…but I was actually excited about this. I know I run better in the cold, and with no rain the only thing that I needed to worry about was keeping my blood moving at the start line.

Bundled up and ready to run!

BF dropped me off with no trouble, and after wandering a little bit to see if I could spot anyone I knew…I decided it was futile and plopped myself in what seemed an appropriate group—near the 1:45 pacer. I thought I might be too close to the start line, but when the gun went off I realized that I probably should have put myself a bit further up. The first quarter mile was one big stop-and-go as people shuffled along, and although it was a bit frustrating, I weaved my way out of the masses and kicked it up.

I loved the first few miles through downtown. These were streets I see everyday, and it was great to see them in a new context—as a race course. There was also a monster downhill right off the bat too, which I used to put some time in the bank.

Let’s play a game called…find the downhill mile.

I questioned my speed very early on. Since I didn’t have a defined goal or plan for this race, I kind of decided that negative splitting wasn’t a necessity, and I would just do what I could. The times on my watch were definitely surprising me, but what surprised me more was just how good I felt.

Once we entered the tunnel, I lost satellite reception as expected, which threw off the distance calculations on my Garmin. And now is when we play a new game called “Find the tunnel faulty paces!”

I still felt great, and I loved the course. We had travelled from downtown over to the west side of Lake Washington, and it was lovely. There was a lot of fog, but the conditions were ideal for running and I generally just felt happy.

I crossed the halfway marker at a little over 50 minutes, and it was at this point where I started to get sparkly thoughts about potential finish times. However, I kept myself reeled in, because I knew there was still a fair amount of climbing to do and—as we all know—a fast start can mean scary things for the finish.

The hills picked up a bit, but other than one soul-crushing climb around mile 8, there was nothing too unmanageable. I started to realize during this race that I’m becoming much more confident and comfortable on hills. I’ve developed a climbing strategy/pace that makes hills a lot less daunting, and I’ve actually found myself kind of…gulp…liking them.

My speeds from miles 8-10 were a bit slower. I think it was in part due to the climbing, and it was also at this point that the fatigue of not tapering started to creep in. I could definitely feel the nearly-30 miles I’d already run that week, and I cursed myself a bit for not executing a more conservative race. However, this part of the race was also a beautiful, winding path through the park…so I think I may have been a bit distracted by the scenery.

But we only had a 5k to go, and I knew there would be a bit of a downhill finish. Time to kick into gear. My legs were barking a bit…not because of the distance, but because of the hills/speed. My goal was to grind it out the best I could without leaving much out on the course…because at this point, there wasn’t much to lose. Also, I realized that half marathons are about 1000x better than full marathons in this regard.

Around mile 11.5, I thought it could be possible to finish with a 1:40:xx on the clock…and all of a sudden, the girl without a set time goal became fixated on that number. There was something so even, clean, and benchmark-worthy about that time…and I wanted it to be mine.

So I ran. My legs were heavy and my stomach was getting a little angry, but my pace somehow didn’t falter  I had already decided that I’d condemned myself to a positive-split no matter what, so all I was trying to do at this point was get to the stadium (where the finish line was).

I saw Erika (for the SECOND time during the race!) around mile 13, and she definitely gave me a boost. I straightened up my form, smiled, and booked it.

Photo courtesy of Erika, filter courtesy of Instagram. Thanks Erika 🙂

All at once, we were coming into the stadium, and I can’t tell you how good running on astro-turf felt after pounding pavement for 13 miles. I saw BF right before I crossed the finish line, and despite feeling a little nauseated…I was pumped. My watch showed a 1:40:50 finish, a time that going into the race—I didn’t think was possible.

Distance is off from the tunnel fiasco.

We visited the post-race recovery area for a bit, and despite my best efforts to spot some friends, there were just too many people. We were able to check results right away which was quite convenient, and I confirmed that my finish time was in fact just what I was hoping.

Here are the official stats:

7:42/mile average. And wouldn’t you know it…somehow I did pull off a negative split. 5 seconds still counts…

I’m still a little disillusioned from this race, though quite pleased with it too. I have a big, undisclosed-until-now dream of running a sub 1:40 half marathon, and frankly…I didn’t think this would be possible until maybe next year. I went into this race not even considering that goal because the course was so notoriously difficult.

But the results have changed my mindset a bit. In all honesty, I expected to finish this race around 1:44, maybe 1:43 if I was lucky. And I would have been totally happy with those. But this race (as well as last week’s 5k) have shown me that I need to stop selling myself short.

I have a lot of will and determination, but I don’t necessarily have a lot of confidence. I tend to not believe things are possible until they actually happen, and while I think it’s good to be realistic…I also think that it would serve me well to have a little more trust in myself.

Other than the existential lessons learned during this race, I have to say that this course was absolutely fantastic. Other than the crowding at the beginning of the race, this was perhaps the most enjoyable course I’ve ever run on, and I was really impressed with the Seattle Marathon organization overall.

My best guy.

This race  fired me up. It was encouraging and fun…and while I’m still a little hesitant to hope for anything more, I’m realizing that there’s no harm in trying.

Try I will, and I’m feeling pretty excited for pushing those limits back even further.

Did you run the Seattle Marathon/Half-Marathon? How did it go? How did you like the course?

Taper Fail

3 Replies

Greetings!

A quick pop-in before tomorrow’s half marathon, namely since I’ve been blog-MIA since Monday.

I just arrived back from my Thanksgiving mini-vacation in sunny Southern California, and it was splendid. So much sun, so much food, and so much quality family time. And, unexpectedly, so much running.

Which leads me to the primary reason for this post: to admit how I’ve done nothing with any semblance to “tapering.”

I ran a shade under 11 miles on Thursday and 8.5 yesterday… meaning that I’m not exactly “rested.” I’ve also been choosing adult beverages over water and Nuun, and I’m convinced I’m still full from our Thanksgiving feast.

In that regard, I’ve done very little to prepare for this race at all.

Admittedly, the Seattle half-marathon was never really a goal race. In fact, I still don’t really know how I’m planning on executing this race. While it might not be a goal race, it’s also not a race that I’m going to do just for fun. I think my effort will be somewhere in the middle of relaxed and puke-inducing. We’ll see…I’d like to go for sub 1:45, but if it’s not my day, that’s fine too.

Other than that loose plan, I don’t really know what I’m going to wear, if my iPod/Garmin are charged, or what time we’re supposed to be at the start.

Super responsible.

But I’m kind of liking this more relaxed approach. If anything, I’m excited to run hard tomorrow around my city with running friends.

So here goes nothing. Good luck to everyone running tomorrow!

 

Upcoming Race Schedule

4 Replies

If there’s one thing I know for sure about myself as a runner, it’s that I love to race.

Racing is the reason I started running in the first place way back when, and once I finally married the ideas of competitive racing and running as a hobby, it was like a match made in RB heaven.

Put me in coach! I’m ready!

Racing makes me feel like an athlete . It makes running more than just exercise or a “calorie torcher” (btw I HATE that expression.) And racing provides a very tangible measurement to log your progress, successes, etc. Sure, some races are just fun—like this one—but for me, I really prefer to actually race when the opportunity presents itself.

When you’re marathon training, spontaneous racing becomes a little tricky. It’s a good way to gauge your fitness, but you don’t want to overdo it or set yourself back in training. I’m currently not training for a marathon, so I’m pretty excited to use this winter to pencil in some short distance races. Sorry paychecks, my Christmas present to myself is coming in the form of registrations and tech shirts.

Here’s a look at some of the races I have on the schedule:

Mustache Dache 5k

Along with every other blogger/runner in Seattle, I’ll me showing my facial hair pride (what?) at this humorous pre-Thanksgiving race. And as silly and fun as the premise of this race may be, I’m having this bug-out issue with it for some reason.

Yes it’s just a 5k, and yes I don’t need to try and run fast every race, but ever since my last 5k where I PR’ed without intending to, I feel this 5k pressure of sorts. 5ks also just scare me because my pace is so much faster than what I’m comfortable with, and we all like to keep our comfort zones within reach. So, I don’t know if I have “goals” for this race per se, but I think I’ll just try to run fast and hold on.

PS: Brunch afterwards bloggers?

Seattle Half-Marathon

Again, I think this is another event where a ton of people I “know” will be running, which makes it exciting. It’s also going to be the first half-marathon I’ve actually raced in nearly a year and a half. My last half was Disneyland, which was really just a for-fun race, and so now it’s back to business.

Sort of.

To be honest, I’m a little scared of this course, and while I’m anxious to go for a very ambitious half-marathon time goal, I’m not sure this is the time to do it. It’s a tough course, and since Tacoma, I don’t underestimate the effect a hard course can have on race expectations. On that note, screw you Tacoma.

So, I think for the Seattle half I may go for a new PR (my current is 1:46) and see how I feel. My half PR was run when I was much slower than I am now (at the time I thought it was a fluke), so I’m interested to see what else I have in me. We’ll see.

Christmas Rush 10k

Nicole let me in on this little $10 secret, and I’m so excited to run another 10k. Fun fact: when I first started running (other than running track), a 10k was my first race. I had no idea what I was doing, but it was a blast. I like this distance a lot more than 5ks—less puke-inducing but still fast enough to feel like a race. No goals really yet for this race—but I’m excited for it.

Yukon Do It Half Marathon

This little race in Port Orchard might be the ticket to my lofty half-marathon aspirations. It’s a smaller race, but such a beautiful course and still all the bells and whistles of a race (bibs, time chips, medals, etc.) It’s also on December 30, and I love the idea of closing the year with a half-marathon.

That’s all for now! Who knows, another one might pop up—but for now I’m pretty psyched for this schedule. It seems that November and December have turned into racing season for me, and I love it!

As for this weekend, no racing, but some running and seasonal fun as well. We have a “Family Thanksgiving” feast with some of our friends on Saturday night, and I’m planning a beautiful, cold 16 miles for tomorrow morning. Winter running, I love you so.

 

Now, please tell me which of YOU are running any of these races! Let’s meet-up 🙂

How I Got to Chicago and Finished the Race

1 Reply

…I took a bunch of steroids.

No, that’s not true.

First things first: some stolen race photos, because heaven knows I will never buy these.

Put me in coach

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feeling good!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gloves are off…I think I can, I think I can.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

getting closer…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh wait, this is hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love everyone and everything!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were a number of others, all pretty ugly typical race photos—but the theme is really that I’m smiling in almost all of them. Call me a photo whore, but truthfully I didn’t see most of the cameras along the way. I just had that fan-effing-tastic of a race.

Moving on.

I want to talk a bit about the steps I took in order to both a) get myself to the race and b) finish it. I consider myself lucky that I was able to race after a month of injury, and I do think that some good fortune fell into play in regard to my run-ability. (That, and some very powerful wishful thinking/begging the run gods for a break).

However, there were some very deliberate things I did both pre- and during taper to ensure that I would be able to make it to the finish line last Sunday.

Going into taper was really tricky. I’d only been running a week since taking two full weeks off from running—and now I was supposed to cut down as much as possible. As much as I wanted to run to build my confidence to get through the race—I knew that there were no physical benefits that could come from too much running during taper, so I played it safe. In essence, I did exactly what I would have in a regular taper schedule. Here’s how it looked:

Taper Schedule (Sunday-Saturday):

S: 75 minute yoga

M: 5 m slow run

T: 60 min swim

W: 4 m slow run

T: 60 m swim

F: REST

S: 2.5 m shake out with 3, 30-min strides.

This schedule worked perfectly for me. It was enough activity to keep me from feeling too restless, but it lacked a lot of impact—which is exactly what my legs and ankle needed before taking on a marathon.

In addition to the workouts, I rolled my legs essentially every night—like painful rolling. After Thursday night, I stuck to gentler stretching, but I wanted to make sure that all week I worked out any lingering knots.

I also iced my ankle 2-ish times a day, no matter what. When an injury doesn’t hurt (as my ankle didn’t during taper week), it’s really easy to neglect recovery efforts—but I made sure to keep icing even though there wasn’t any noticeable pain.

I also wore my compression socks around the house whenever possible, and wore them on the plane en route to Chicago.

These things, I believe, all really helped in having a successful race—but perhaps the bigger factors were the way I ran the race and the time I took off when I got hurt.

Having a marathon in sight helped me to buckle down in terms of not pushing it with my injury. Like other runners, I’m prone to working out through an injury (which more often than not makes it worse). Of course, I should never do this—but I think that having a race on the horizon forced me to recognize that R&R were the only means of getting to Chicago. So rest I did, and look at that—I finished, PR’ed, and had the best time—without any ankle pain.

This injury was obviously less serious than others, certainly, which helped with recovering in time for the race—but I’m really trying to take a hint from this experience: if there is one thing that heals an injury, it’s rest.

I hope other runners can see this as a case study of sorts on how rest is a big part of getting you toward your running goals.

It’s not just about the perfect tempos, the multiple 20 milers, or the weekly yoga.

Let’s take a look back: My last 20 miler before Chicago was on August 25, 6 weeks before Chicago. I completely took off 2 weeks of running during what should have been “peak” weeks, and I didn’t run over 12 miles in the month before the race. In other words, the odds were not stacked in my favor.

I’ll stop soon I promise, but I’m reiterating these points to remind everyone that a missed workout, missed mile, or a missed pace goal during marathon training is not the big deal we make it out to be. Sure, it’s not advisable to miss too many workouts or long runs, but I’m realizing there’s way too much stress put on the day-to-day specifics.

It’s just running. When we remove all the accessories that distract us from the simplicity of this sport (gels, garmins, BQs, Yasso 800s, fartleks, rollers, barefoot, not-barefoot, Dean Karnasez, etc.) all of a sudden it becomes a lot more manageable. All those extra things are important, but they are really just details. Kara Goucher has a great quote that puts it in perspective:

“Do the work. Do the analysis. But feel your run. Feel your race. Feel the joy that is running.”

This is how I approached Chicago. All I cared about was feeling the run—enjoying it for the simple act it is, an act I love so very much.

By ridding myself of the stress of perfect training and specific goals, my ankle decided to cooperate with the “go with the flow” mentality and lasted all 26.2 miles in fine condition.

It took me a while to get to this place, have no doubt. I had a lot of anxiety the week before the race about finishing, getting re-injured, etc. It was also very, very hard for me to let go of goals for this race. Admittedly, I know I could have gone sub 3:35 without the training malfunctions—which stings a little. But honestly, I don’t know if a BQ would have felt as good as this “no-goal” race did. By running for the fun of it and instead of obsessing over splits, I remembered just how magical the simple act of running can be.

So am I suddenly a goal-less, no Garmin, hippie runner? Absolutely not. In fact, I have goals that I’m itching to get started on. More on Monday 🙂

However, I’ve realized that running for the love of it can sometimes get you to the finish line just as easily as a flawless 22 miler. Okay, maybe I am turning into more of a hippie, but I truly hope that in a sport that’s full of specifics and details—the basics of putting one foot in front of the other and enjoying the ride isn’t lost on you.

Perhaps my favorite race tee yet.

If you couldn’t already tell, a lot of what I write on this blog is as much for myself as for my readers. So I appreciate you reading my somewhat stream-of-consciousness style of blogging.

Maybe someday I’ll have an agenda or a means of drafting my posts. But for now, these self-therapy sessions will have to do. Thanks for sticking around 🙂

Happy Friday!

Chicago Marathon Race Recap

27 Replies

Yesterday was a very, very good day.

If you want the quick-and-dirty version of how I fared in the Chicago Marathon, you can scan to the bottom. If you’re interested in the full race recap, read on! Spoiler: it’s full of happiness and run love—and a little bit of past and present tense confusion. Forgive me.

Those of you who’ve been following me know that I was nervous with a capital N about this race. To briefly recap those of you who haven’t had to listen to my whining for the past month, this is how I went into the race:

1 month ago, my ankle blew up in a horrible case of tendonitis, and I couldn’t walk without a limp let alone run at all. 2 doctors visits, lots of icing, and positive thinking later— I could sort-of, kind-of run again. This was a mere 2 weeks out from the race, and it wasn’t without irritation, but it was running. Another two weeks of a little running (12 miles being the furthest) and continuing to rest my angry ankle, and I decided I would try and bust out a marathon. Flights had been booked, plans had been made, yada yada yada yada (Seinfeld?), so I figured…let’s go for it.

Mind you…my last 20-mile run was on August 25, and that 12 mile run mentioned above was not easy.

{I am not sharing these facts for any sympathy votes or to throw myself a pity party…I just feel they’re essential to detailing both how I approached this race and how I felt about the end results. Take ’em or leave ’em.}

I lowered my expectations for this marathon. I planned a conservative pacing strategy, and I went into it knowing that a) I would probably be in pain at some point, b) I wouldn’t be very fast, and c) I could end up re-injured.

My best case scenario was finishing without too much ankle pain. I wasn’t looking for speed, I was merely looking for a finish line crossing.

And what did I get?

One of the most fun races of my life—and what I believe was the most well-executed running I’ve ever done.

Enough Tarantino, let’s go back to the beginning…

Saturday night, after some Chicago exploring, my feet were up, my compression socks were on, and BF was making me a perfect carb-heavy dinner. I wasn’t feeling the same nerves I’d been grappling with all week. I felt ready—a little anxious—but mainly content with that fact that all I could do was my best. Without any high goals or expectations, I knew all I could do was run smart and hope for the best—and as someone who is always so numbers-oriented, this was a pretty relieving approach.

Nevertheless, my sleeping was not ideal Saturday night, but that’s to be expected.

At my 5:00 am alarm, though, it was game time. A face wash, gear check, and banana later—we were on our way to the start line. The nice thing about Chicago was all the accessible public transportation—the trains made all the coming and going much simpler!

Let’s go run a marathon!

Girls on the Run did such a wonderful job with a pre-and-post race set up. We had a warm place to hang out, food, real bathrooms, easy gear storage, and PT masseuses! Fancy stuff. I felt very lucky/grateful.

I would appreciate this set up at every race from now on. Please and thank you.

7:00 am rolled around, and it was time to jet to the start line. There were so many people doing this race. Of course I knew this ahead of time, but you can never really know what a single event for 40,000 people looks like until you’re there. It was quite the production, and the Chicago Marathon volunteers/staff had the whole thing down to a science. Despite the crowds, it was largely controlled chaos and really just felt like a huge party. I tried my best to stay calm, soak it in, and appreciate the fact that I was part of such a spectacular event. The announcer told us that 114 different countries were represented amongst the participants, as well as ALL 50 states. Amazing.

Pre-corral entrance, a good luck send off.

The gun went off, Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” played over the speakers, and we were running! It took me about 4 minutes post-gun time to actually cross the start line, but it didn’t matter—I was so hopped up on running-gratitude and adrenaline that I didn’t feel any urge to push or weave.

I also started this race without my music playing—which was both abnormal and intentional. I wanted to be able to enjoy the crowds which I’d heard so much about—and I figured that starting my music later on might give me a helpful jolt of energy when I’d need it. This would end up being a very, very good strategy.

We were off—cruising through the beautiful streets of Chicago. There are so many different buildings, businesses, and general attractions to see around that city, and it was easy to be distracted (in a good way) by it all.

And the people! Right off the bat, there were crowds at least 3-people-deep lining the course, all of whom were so encouraging, happy, and motivating. There were some hilarious posters as well—my favorites being, “You’re definitely NOT going to win” and “Remember, Liam Neeson is proud of you!”

The first 5 or so miles went all through down town, and I felt great. My plan going into it was to stick around an 8:40-8:45 min/mile for the first half, and then reassess depending on how I felt. However, due to a massive Garmin fail about 1.2 miles into the race—my pacing was based solely on my stopwatch function and some mental math skills.

Because of the clouds and the tall buildings, my satellite was more off than on, and when I did have a signal, my watch’s pacing was definitely not accurate. So, I was able to distract myself a lot with a good deal of addition, memorization, and division.

And in the end, I’m actually very thankful for the Garmin mishap. Not only was I distracted by my need to configure my own pacing, but I wasn’t obsessively checking my watch. I would say I ran 80% of the pace solely by feel, and in the end this would result in a great overall strategy. If I felt slow, I picked it up, if I felt fast, I pulled back. Back to basics—it was refreshing.

However, I did want to make sure I stuck to my slower-first-half plan, and so I was trying my hardest to get to each mile marker based on my self-calculated 8:40 pace plan. Looking back on the results, I think I did a fair job sticking to this. I felt great through the 10 mile mark, and it was around this point that I started to get wary about my ankle.

Teal hat on the left, photo courtesy of BF.

I knew that I could make it to the halfway point or so without too much worry about my ankle—but after that, it was pretty up in the air as to what would happen.

The pain I’d been experiencing beforehand with my injury would come on without warning, really quickly, and so there were a number of times from miles 10-15 where I was paying a lot of attention to how it was feeling. There wasn’t much sign of anything too threatening, though, and eventually I was able to stop thinking too much about it.

I couldn’t believe how quickly the halfway point came. It felt like I’d just started running—and feeling good at this point was really encouraging in terms of how I felt I would bode for the rest of the race.

I was constantly analyzing both my energy levels and my form—and I think this “checking in” was good for my pacing and my motivation. With both a lot of energy left and a completely pain-free ankle at the 13.1 mark…my fears of needing to drop out were slowly diminishing.

The miles continued to tick by—just the way you would hope they would in a race. The crowds also continued to be huge, loud, and just fantastic. I slapped hands with so many strangers, took oranges offered by various folks, and smiled at most everyone I saw. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, and the further I ran, it seemed the better I felt.

Looking back, I think I felt the best from miles 13-19. My pace felt steady, my energy felt strong, and I couldn’t believe how good my legs felt given my huge lapse in training. I consciously didn’t let the fear of missed training keep me from enjoying the running and instead I credited the resting I’d allowed myself and the taper plan I followed. No questioning….just running.

I thought that at some point the course would enter a no-man’s-land of sorts, as most marathons tend to do. But there was never really any point of the run that felt deserted. There were always people spectating, and generally there was always something interesting to see. There were bands, DJs, huge video monitors, funny signs, and generally a good atmosphere throughout the course—and I never felt that there was a point where we were forced to look down and grind on.

And as an added bonus, I saw BF 3 different times! He was able to make it to miles 4, 11, 21, and the finish (I couldn’t see him at the end) and I loved being able to see him along the way. I also loved the Swedish fish he gave me at mile 11…

I didn’t ever consciously think to pick it up in terms of speed. However, after looking through my results it seems as if miles 15-21 ish were where I ran the fastest. My 35k (mile 21.7) clocked in at an 8:18 min/mile, which is much better than I could have expected, particularly considering I still felt good at this point.

Around the 22 mark, though, I was feeling the fatigue I knew would come. It was mainly just tired legs, nothing too brutal, and considering that I only had 4.2 miles to go, I wasn’t too daunted by it. An expected soreness really.

At this point, I was breaking the race down into small portions. At mile 23, I tried to think, “Okay, just a 5k to go,” and then at mile 24, “Just a little 2.2 miler—just like you did yesterday.” Admittedly, knowing that I could run 10 minute miles to the end and still tie my PR was definitely encouraging.

I was hurting at this point, but not horribly. It felt like the kind of pain you expect from a marathon, and it was primarily my legs and not my energy. Endurance wise, I still felt good, and it was more of a mental battle with my quads than anything else.

Chicago did a fantastic job with making the finishing miles just what you’d want them to be. There were signs for 1 mile to go, 800 m to go, 400 m, 300 m, and 200 m…all leading to the finale of an enormous finish line lined with stands of cheering crowds. Unreal amounts of cheering, cameras, and crowds…it was amazing.

Part of the final 400 meters or so was quite uphill (the only uphill during the whole race!) so that wasn’t too spectacular—but as soon as I rounded the corner and saw the huge “FINISH” ahead of me, I was elated.

I’d done it. No ankle pain, no dropping out, and no collapsing before the finish line.

And somehow, to cap it all off, I crossed the finish line at 3:42:10—a 2 minute PR.

I felt so incredibly redemptive from my Tacoma finish, and I felt so over-the-top in love with the marathon distance—again. It did feel great to stop, and as I slow-trudged down the recovery area along with all the other tired runners, I had a 26.2 mile-wide smile on my face—I couldn’t believe how well the race went.

Here are some of the more official results:

I was surprised to see that my speed progressed throughout the race. While I was trying my best to keep track using my stopwatch/mental math method—my brain became a little too fuzzy to keep up this kind of stats work. I’d say the last 10 miles were run solely on feel, and I’m really pleased with just how well that ended up working.

Here are some more numbers:

If you’re wondering, there were 1614 women in my age group and 16,767 women overall.

After slowly finding my way back to the high school, I met up with BF, thanked the Girls on the Run ladies, and got a good stretch done by one of their PT volunteers. Lesson learned: a good amount of walking + a quality stretch post-marathon yields far less sore legs.

Very happy girl.

I loved this race. I loved the course, I loved the crowds, and I loved the way I felt the whole time. It was the perfect combination of happy running and well-earned pain, which always results in the most satisfying kind of runs. The PR was truly just the icing on top of what was already such a memorable race, and I was mostly just thankful for finishing and finishing without an injury relapse. Afterwards, my ankle felt as good as when I woke up in the morning…and with the exception of some tight quads and IT bands, my legs feel pretty darn good today.

Coffee and chocolate donut holes…post marathon perfection.

I so appreciate all the support both before and after from all of you. Knowing there were people tracking my times made each timing strip crossing all the more encouraging, and I cannot thank everyone enough.

I loved Chicago, I loved this race, and I love that I’ve become reacquainted with the magic of the marathon.

Congratulations to EVERYONE who raced this weekend! I hope you all are resting well and soaking in the post-race glory. Thanks to everyone for the texts, tweets, tracks, emails, and phone calls—your support means so very much to me. Thanks to Eminem and the cast of Wicked for getting me through those last few miles. And a special thanks to both Girls on the Run and those who donated to my fundraising efforts—I would not have been able to run this race without you.

Alright, done with my Oscar speech. If you’ve made it this far—bless you.

And let it be known…Boston, next time, you are mine.

Did you race this weekend? Next weekend? Have you run Chicago? Results? Opinions? Pizza?

Decision Time

3 Replies

Well folks, after much deliberation…I’ve made a final decision:

This Sunday, I will be running the Chicago Marathon.

I’ve thought a lot about this decision, I’ve asked a lot of people their advice, and I’ve done a lot of internet perusing to find “the right answer” as to what I should do.

And I realized a couple of things, but namely…there really isn’t a right answer in this scenario. Some people are willing to run on anything that isn’t a stress fracture, and some people stay away for just the sniffles. There were a number of different pros and cons for me to consider, both big and small. And in the end—despite all the opinions, the research, and the back-and-forth, I knew it had to be my decision—not anyone else’s.

And guess what? With a little help from rest, meds, and wishful thinking, I’m healthy enough to run the race—and I’m gonna try.

But let’s rewind a bit, and I’ll catch you up to speed as to where I currently stands in regard to this race:

1 month ago, I had to stop short on a 20 mile run from horrible ankle pain. I was limping for days, icing like crazy, and popping more pain killers than I ever have before. The doctor was nonchalant about it and told me it was just bad tendonitis, but I was still not thinking the worst. In the back of my head, my hopes of a stellar Chicago Marathon were getting shrouded away, seemingly all at once.

1 week after the initial injury struck, I tried running for the first time—to no avail. I couldn’t make it 1/4 mile without my ankle blowing up like a balloon. I limped very slowly the whole way home, holding back tears, and continued to lower my self-proclaimed likelihood of running the race.

A little over a week ago, I went back to the doctor. This time, I was prescribed some actual, real deal pain killers. He told me that if I felt up for it—he would give the green light to run the race. Once again, I tried to run…this time, I made it 6 miles. They weren’t pain free, but I got them out, and it seemed that my ankle was getting better.

Last week, I was able to do the aforementioned 6 mile run, an 8.5 mile run, and a 7.5 mile run. Each felt better than the one before, and my ankle pain was getting to be less and less each time I headed out. After two weeks of discouragement, Chicago was back on the table.

This past weekend was the weekend I proclaimed to be “decision time.” I knew I didn’t want to even make the trip if I wasn’t going to run the race, therefore I needed to make the call one way or the other ahead of time. I set out on my previously planned 12 mile run, deciding that if I made it relatively pain free—I was gonna race.

12 miles later, and…well shit, I’m running a marathon next weekend.

I ran the 12 miles with very little ankle irritation. In fact, there wasn’t even a glimmer of the injury for probably 75% of the run. This was indeed very encouraging…and although I know 26 miles is many more than 12, the rate at which my injury seems to be recovering makes me think that I will be able to spend most of the race relatively pain-free.

However, while my ankle may be mostly cooperative…taking two weeks off completely from running took it’s toll, and admittedly I am mostly worried now about the condition of my legs more than anything else.

I’m not gonna lie…those 12 miles were tough. My lungs felt good, my ankle even felt good, but my legs felt tired. This could have been just an average “bad run,” but I know I’m also feeling the rusty effects of not having run long in a while. I was concerned with just how tired I felt after 12 miles, and it made a marathon seem even more daunting than, well, a marathon already is.

But, the fact of the matter is that if I wasn’t going to run this race…it wasn’t going to be because of some tired legs. It was because of an injury…an injury which seems to be on its way out the door. I feel like I have to try, and while this might be the most difficult marathon I’ve ever attempted, I don’t want to go down without a fight.

Frankly, I’m really nervous for the race. I’m scared of not finishing. I’m scared for the pain. And perhaps more than anything, I don’t like the uncertainty. While of course I was anxious for my first two marathons, I was always very confident in my ability to finish. This setback has left me in a much less confident state in my running—and while I know I haven’t lost all of the training I built up, I’m definitely not in ideal marathon shape.

However, these fears and apprehension aren’t enough to keep me from the start line. I’m truthfully very excited and grateful that I will still get the chance to be in and at the race. This is one of the biggest races in the world, I’ve trained hard to get to it, I’ve raised a lot of money for a great cause, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get out there and try.

So get ready kids, this will be interesting.

 

To CIM or not to CIM?

8 Replies

Anyone who follows Seattle running bloggers knows that for the past few weeks, a hot topic of conversation has been the California International Marathon on December 2nd. In a not at all surprising move, it was Nicole who initially contacted me asking if I wanted to do it. We both knew there were a lot of bloggers around the country that were committed to going …and slowly but surely, the whole idea exploded into a PNW who, what, when, where discussion forum. There are actual Google doc spreadsheets—this is a serious topic.

Now, I am not typically someone who stresses about race details, especially so far out. If I know there will be someplace to stay, available pasta, and someone there that I know, I don’t get too bugged out about the logistics. I focus more on analyzing the biggest factor of all—running an effing marathon.

So plane tickets, hotels, rental cars, and weather aside…my dilemma right now is simply whether to run or not run the race.

Let’s  play a little game then, called “I tell you what I think, both pros and cons, and you tell me what you think.” Cool? Honestly, I’m in some big time need of practical guidance on this one. This game is also known as, “The price of registration goes up tomorrow, and I still haven’t decided what to do.”

I need help!

So, CIM: A very famous race in California’s capital—in the dead of winter, no less. CIM is popular for a number of reasons, but I would venture to guess that its course—namely its elevation map—has something to do with its cool status.

Obviously, this is one fast course. Even Bart Yasso says so. The race is known for spoon feeding PRs and handing out BQs like free smoothie samples. It’s also during a time when there aren’t many races at all, and because it’s in California…the winter climate could make for ideal racing conditions.

If I had a clear schedule, this would be a no brainer. I love the idea of a winter race, and I love the idea of traveling, cheering, eating, and celebrating with fellow runners. However, there is this teeny tiny detail that’s throwing a wrench into the mix—you know, that thing I’ve been talking about for two months.

The Chicago Marathon is on October 7th, just seven weeks before CIM.

Now, if I was one of those hardcore, seasoned marathoners, two months between marathons wouldn’t be a big deal. I am not, however, and although two months is definitely a good amount of time—I’m still hesitant. I would essentially be nonstop training from now until December 2nd—and presuming I would still be alive/not yet checked myself into an insane asylum after that, there are the questions of injury, burnout, and a loathing hatred of anything to do with Brooks and Gu to consider.

So, now that I’ve laid out the logistics, let’s take a look at the two scenarios—and what each entails in terms of good stuff and bad stuff.

Scenario #1: CIM is a go.

If I do register for CIM, it will more pressure off of Chicago. I already decreed that I want to have a fun, more relaxed approach to Chicago training. A good finish time would be great, a BQ would be better, but I’m not really focusing on that. And I love it. I love that I’ve reacquainted with the joys of just running as opposed to focusing on 3:34:59 over and over and over again. So, if I add CIM to my calendar just two months after Chicago, I’ll probably focus even more on taking that race a bit easier and finishing with some steam left instead of going all out.

This approach would pave the way for some big opportunities at CIM. I’ll have to recover for a week or two, however coming off of Chicago will put me in an ideal place in terms of high-mileage race prep for CIM. I can hit in pretty hard once I’m recovered and presumably go into CIM with even more hay in the barn (thank you Ali) than ever before.

In that case…I’ll be in a great position to go for that all elusive BQ that I’ve been eyeing since I first started marathoning. I may choose not to (I don’t want to throw that out there yet), however given the ample training I’ll have and the quick course at CIM—I would really be looking at ideal conditions.

PLUS: Lots of lady bloggers, so many runnerd opportunities, Christmas shopping, food, drinks, merriment.

It would be a party.

Now, that’s all well and good…but let’s look at the other scenario:

Scenario #2: I play it safe, and don’t do CIM.

As demonstrated during my last jaunt at 26.2 miles, marathons wear you down. I was slapped in the face with injury after Tacoma, and I was forced to own the fact that I had pushed it too hard.

Running is a frickin’ roulette sport, man. No matter how many things you do right, injuries can be inevitable. As someone who has wasted more money than I care to share on DNS registrations, I really don’t like the idea of signing myself up for another unclaimed race packet.

Injury is really my primary concern when it comes to the CIM decision. The fact is, I know I might burn out a bit on running after it all, but I’m much less concerned with that. Running burnout requires a few weeks off, a few veg-sessions complete with beer, sweatpants, and chick flicks, and just like that…the desire comes back. I know myself well enough to know that my love for running can withstand many months of continuous training. The constant icing, stretching, fueling, hydrating, etc. is what gets to me more—but it’s something I’m prepared to deal with. Just kidding! I love the fueling.

If I don’t do CIM, I’ll have more options available after Chicago as well. Do I go for that half marathon PR that I’ve resisted committing to for so long? Do I stick to shorter races? Do I sit on my butt until Spring? Truthfully, I do have some big 2013 endurance racing plans in the works, and so some time to breath between Chicago and then would be helpful.

So which do I do? If you know me, you know that I never shy away from an aggressive training regimine, and I really love the intensity of a big challenge. But, in the same breath, I don’t want to be injured or worn down.

Obviously, I haven’t made up my mind, and I have until midnight tonight to decide. And by midnight, I mean like 8:30…because that’s when I start to get ready for bed. I rage.

I technically can register after tomorrow. But, with the price increase happening and the need for training decisions to be made…I’ve self-designated today as my do or die deadline.

HELP!

I want honest opinions here…don’t spare me your sarcasm, bluntness, or “Girl you cray” comments. But, if you are an eternal optimist and believe running is magic, I’d like to hear from you too.

GO!

Spring Marathon Announcement

7 Replies

I have a kinda-sorta-semi significant announcement to make, and it involves a change in my spring marathon plans. I got this idea planted in my head last week, and upon mulling it over and weighing all the pros and cons and whatnot—I’m confident that this is the best call for a variety of reasons.

To put it simply (WHAT? Crazy…I never do that) here you have it:

I am not running the Eugene Marathon.

Instead, I am running the Tacoma City Marathon.

I realize that this is really only a big deal for me, but since some of you may have been following me throughout this training cycle(hey followers! I love you!)—which has, up until this time, been focused solely on running in Pre’s old stomping grounds—I figured I owed an explanation.

The idea to switch my marathon plans first came about during a run (weird, right?) last week. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve recently been battling back-and-forth with some intense knee bursitis. I had to alter a lot of my training plan, visit the orthopedic doc (aka: Dr. I’ll Give You Cortisone Therefore I’m a Godsend), and generally wait out the inflammation that has been crippling my entire left leg. So needless to say, although I’m on the way out of injury land and kicking back into training mode, I definitely lost some time.

The Tacoma City Marathon is a week after Eugene, and I knew this only because I was planning on going to volunteer for it. I began thinking about the logistics of Eugene (aka: travel, lodging, time, etc.) and I thought, “Huh, if only I was doing Tacoma instead…that would be so much easier.”

Obviously this triggered all of my logical-decision versus idealistic-decision making thoughts, which looked a little something like this:

(Note: when I talk to myself, I don’t really use second person, but for the sake of blog-talk, just go with it.)

“Wait, why don’t you just do Tacoma instead?”

“But Eugene has been the plan all along. It’s flat! It ends in Hayward Field! I could BQ in Eugene!”

“You would have to go to Eugene by yourself, buy a hotel room, pay for gas, and spend 12 hours driving ALONE.”

“But you already paid for Eugene! And they have pancakes at the end!”

“Tacoma is HALF AN HOUR AWAY. BF could come. You won’t have to celebrate at the finish line alone. You will SAVE money.”

So, this went on for approximately 4 days (Doesn’t my brain sound like a party?!), and thanks to some guidance from Mama, they always are right—aren’t they?, and some big time pros in the “Tacoma” category…I’ve decided to forgo my Eugene Marathon plans, as well as my dreams of a flat-PR accessible course.

Yes, that entire paragraph is one sentence. Too lazy to change…it’s free form, right?

The course change is really the biggest downside of this decision: Eugene is notorious for dishing up PRs and BQs to its participants, right alongside the all-you-can-eat pancakes at the end. And while this wasn’t the reason I chose this race, it has certainly helped encourage my secret-but-not-really-secret BQ goals.

No big deal, you say, just go for a BQ in Tacoma instead.

Yea…that’s the thing about the Tacoma race. One word can be used to describe the course, and it starts with an “H” and ends with a long, exhausting, oh-my-God-never-ending “ILLS.” No one sugarcoats the hill factor when describing the Tacoma Marathon—even the website says “train for hills!” in an annoyingly chipper yet threatening way. I know websites don’t have a tone of voice, but I was offended by this statement.

Not that I’m necessarily bad at hills, but when you go from training for a flat/marginally downhill race to training for a constantly rolling hill race, your time goals dial back a bit. And you know what? It’s okay.

Truthfully, I had already come to terms with the fact that a BQ was perhaps not in the cards for this spring, due to bursitis being an a-hole and sidelining me for three weeks. Also, it’s not like I won’t try my very hardest in Tacoma—and I look forward to seeing how my effort thus far emancipates on race day.

There are also many reasons why Tacoma is definitely the smarter and more logical choice. Let’s do some listing, because that’s what being type-A is all about, right? Cool.

–Tacoma is where I first started to love running. I went to school in Tacoma, and while it took me a few years and many boxes of wine to eventually lace up and head out on the roads, I do feel a certain home field advantage about racing in this town. Although I love Seattle and will never live in Tacoma again (that’s putting it nicely btw), there is a certain nostalgia I get when I think about running in Tacoma.

– Money. Monetarily, I’ll probably end up better off. Yes, I’ll have to bite the $90-Eugene-Registration bullet and tack on another registration fee for Tacoma. However, given the fact that with Eugene I’d had to pay for accommodations, gas, food, and all the race shwag that I’ll rationalize with “But I came all this way!!!!”, I’m thinking I’ll actually save money.

–Time. For me, a marathon is certainly a good reason to spend a whole weekend traveling, but the fact that I won’t have to drive 6 hours after running 26.2 miles (and not to mention beforehand) provides some enormous relief. Post marathon time should only be spent at Chipotle, on the couch, or in the Dairy Queen drive-thru. ONLY.

–(Boy)Friends! I know it’s silly to consider having a cheering section as an advantage, however I am comforted by thinking that I’ll have some supporters in Tacoma. BF is in crazy-busy-work-mode right now, and there was no way he would have been able to come to Eugene. This way, not only will he be able to come, but he’s thinking he’ll race the half too! Hooray couple racing! Also, I have some friends in Tacoma that I’m planning on forcing nicely asking to come to the finish line. My sister also said she’d be able to make it to Tacoma. It’s just a T-town party, all kinds of fun.

–Revenge. That sounds intense, because it is. Let’s back track: Last year, I signed up to do the Tacoma City Half Marathon and was all amp-ed up for it: It would be spring, it would be in my own backyard, and it would be ON MY BIRTHDAY. Perfect situation for 13.1 miles right? And it was…but not for me. You see that was the time of the year that my little friend Torn Hip Flexor was hanging around and decided that it wouldn’t let me walk or run for a very long time. Racing was out of the question, and I had to settle with my first “DNS.” So, when I say that “revenge” is motivating my change in race plans, I’m being very serious. Although it was not the race itself that disabled me from running, I do feel a certain call from it to come back and get some redemption. And oh Tacoma City Marathon, I will get that redemption…and instead of taking back those 13.1 miles I was robbed of last year, I’m going to tack on another 13.1 just to prove my point.

Are you scared of me yet? Just think I’m insane and spend too much time by myself? Well, agree to agree with you on that one. Threatening and personifying a perfectly innocent race is perhaps one of the insights into my psyche I should have kept to myself.

But in all seriousness, I’m feeling pretty pumped at the thought of redeeming my Half DNS from last year with a full marathon. I have no clue how well it will go, I am still working on some time goals (stay tuned for that), but I’m psyched to run 26.2 miles on the roads where I first started to love running. So Tacoma, next time I see your smelly, sketchy, humble little self, I’ll be waving at you with a race number tagged on and presumably a lot of salt on my face. Hey, if you’re not dressing up for me…I won’t pull out the stops for you. Let’s just be stinky and tired-looking together, okay? It will be beautiful.

_______

I hope your Tuesday is going well! And today I’d like to know…

Do you have any spring racing plans? Have you ever changed a race plan mid-training? Do you enjoy thinking of races as living, breathing things that you want to get in a fight with?

 

Reconsidering the “Racing Factor”

1 Reply

Hello!

I’m currently writing from the sunshine filled land of Pasadena, California- quite literally; I’m sitting outside on my grandparents’ back lawn soaking up some rays and basking in vacation relaxation. Things have been quite lovely so far in Spring Break world, and I’m happy to say that I’ve been very conscientious to work on something that is often times very difficult for me: chilling out.

If you’ve read this blog before (thanks for returning, by the way!), then you have probably gathered that I am the type of person who always likes a fully developed and refined plan, agenda, or schedule for every moment of the day. Sure, this helps keep me on track, but I’ve realized throughout this past year that it also leaves very little room for spontaneity and being present. I began noticing that the more I focused on “What’s next?” the less I was concerned with what was happening around me.

Additionally, I found that this mode of operating can actually lead to some unfortunate disappointment. If I’m so focused on exactly how my day will go- who I will see, what we will do, what we will eat, etc. then there isn’t any room for imagination. Everything is expected and planned out to a point where the reality is a bit of a let down. Sure, this isn’t always the case, but I have definitely been conscientious about not being so methodical about orchestrating each and every day according to what I think will yield the best possible outcome. Because the truth is, we need to leave room for the element of surprise to whisk us away from our routines and surprise us with something unexpected. I think some of the best times I’ve had have been when I’ve jumped into something without prior planning or organization. Relinquishing the reigns of control to the randomness of the universe is often times the most exciting mode of operation.

I have a point to all this rambling- I promise. You see, this trip I have been catching myself wondering what the entire scope of my day is going to look like. This is understandable, because on vacations you make plans for fun things to do, right? But I’ve been realizing that plans are what I make and obide by all the time, and what would happen if I just let the present dictate my decision making?

My family is fairly laid back in regards to daily routine- which is very helpful, as they help to balance out my own scheduling compulsions. When I’m with my family, I love that I’m able to take a step back from the pre-determined stuff and focus more on the little moment-to-moment joys of life. And you know what? There are a whole lot of them.

One of the reasons I’ve been thinking on this idea of presence versuses planning is because of the derailment/rearranging that’s needed to happen with my running. My knee is slowly but surely getting better, but I am most definitely outside of the training schedule/progress that I expected to be in. I ran 9 miles yesterday, very slowly and somewhat uncomfortably, and I’m coming to terms with the fact that despite all the effort I’ve put into this Eugene Marathon planning and dreaming, it might not pan out the way I had hoped. And I’m realizing…it’s ok.

I do still think I’ll be able to do the race…all 26.2…but it might not go exactly as I had planned. Truthfully, I have had my eye on getting a BQ this time around; my training runs were indicating that I had a decent shot at it, and I was just sort of feeling that it could definitely happen. I was prepared for it to not happen, but I was going to go for it.

At this point, it’s becoming less of an ideal. Sure, there’s still a shot, but this hiccup in my training has taken my expectations down a notch. I’m not necessarily relieved (because trust me a BQ is high on my must-get list!) however I don’t feel like I’ll be all that disappointed in myself if it doesn’t happen.

This injury/break/slowing down of my training has tweaked my perspective a bit, and I’m realizing that it’s okay for a perfectly formulated plan to not go, well, according to plan. I’ve been so focused and determined to refine my training in order to get that BQ that I lost perspective a bit on just enjoying my daily runs, no matter their pace or distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and believe me there’s nothing I’m gunning for more than knocking out a 20 miler, but for right now- for today- that’s not going to happen. I’m still in “recovery” mode and I’m more concerned right now with taking care of myself than crying over a race that hasn’t even happened yet.

Because the fact of the matter is- racing or not racing- running is still the best part of it all. I think as marathon, half-marathon, 10k, and 5k racers, we get so focused on our times and PRs that we forget that running isn’t meant to be about hardware and bibs- it’s about enjoying ourselves, pushing ourselves, and appreciating the potential of our bodies. I love racing, and I don’t plan on stopping, but I do appreciate this new-found realization that being a runner, to me, is more about the feeling I get when it’s 6:30 in the morning, the sun’s coming up, I’m listening to my breathing, and I feel totally and completely myself. That’s the reason I push myself to get up out of bed, and that’s the reason I will always come back to this sport.

Racing is a fantastic way to work toward a goal and maintain a running regimin, but ultimately- it’s really just another run. A plain, simple run- just with a lot more running buddies and water stops.

I suppose the point that I’m getting to is that for me, someone who is by nature uber competitive and incredibly planning-oriented, sometimes dropping the “racing factor” out of running helps bring the greatness of the sport back into perspective. It stops being this monotonous, check-list item that is only working toward a singular, far away goal, and it becomes once again a daily joy and privilege.

So maybe I will BQ Eugene, maybe I’ll just simply finish it. Maybe I’ll have to drop down to the half, or maybe I won’t even make it at all. I’m not really sure at this point in time, but for now I’m going to savor the mornings that I do get to lace up my Asics and run, no matter how slowly, until I’m fully better and ready to push myself.

I love having goals, and there are many futuristic running goals that I’m excited to take on, but I also love being able to take a step back from those goals and focus on the wonderful things that are already happening around me, running related and non running related.

________

Have a great week! And if you care to share…was there a point in time when you realized you were too consumed with one end point?