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Guest Post by Julia Griffith: ECSCA 50k Race Recap

I’ve got something super awesome for you all today. My badass training partner, dear friend, and all-around wonderful person, Julia Griffith, ran her first 50k on December 6th and I’ve asked her to recap all the dirty details that happened. Considering that the 50k distance (and trail running in general) is way out of my league at this point, I thought it would be fun to read something a little different and muddier. Julia’s report totally inspired me, and I’m pretty sure it will elicit some trail-running interest from you guys as well. Take it away, Jules!

Robyn asked if I’d be interested in posting a recap of my first 50k at the North Face Endurance Challenge Series in California (ECSCA). So, I wrote this long detailed post that included information about my training and the trip to California but it was all boring and what really matters is what actually happened on race day. What happened on race day was magical. It was the best race of my life and I truly loved almost every minute of it. The trails were absolutely gorgeous, the people were amazing, and I blew my goals out of the water. If you love mountains and to run for a long time and be outside and play, you should think about doing a 50k.

Just a little background first. ECSCA was held on December 6th & 7th in the Marin Headlands, just north of San Francisco. The week of the race, NorCal experienced some exceptionally heavy rainfall which left muddy trails and the need for a slight course modification to the 50 mile and 50k races. The 50 mile race was the championship of the entire series and attracted a really awesome elite field. There are a ton of amazing, inspiring ECSCA 50 mile recaps out there that you should read if you want to learn more about the series and what the scene was like that day. The series also included a marathon relay which attracted 100ish November Project tribe members from across the country. The NP community is unrivaled and having the group there turns race day into a party. I traveled to the race with about 10 friends from November Project – Denver, including my boyfriend, Dan, who also raced the 50k.

My goals going into the race were: a.) to love it. To have fun and finish feeling proud of myself and my effort. b.) To feel like I was racing (at my level), and not be out there just to finish. c.) If everything went well, to finish under 6 hours but to not be hung up on paces during the race.

With that, here are a few highlights:

Running up Cardiac. Cardiac was on every racer’s mind as it was the longest climb up the day, starting around mile 14ish and going up to 18. It was a single-track trail (with a river running down it) turned into double-track for the day because of the course modifications. There was an aid station at the top and even though this wasn’t truly the halfway point, I thought of the trip down Cardiac as starting the second half of the race. As I was climbing (aka trudging through mud), I saw the first 50k runners start to make their way down which meant I was on the lookout for Dan. I spent all my time watching for him and as soon as I saw him (in 6th place), I yelled out. It was so great to see him on course and I wanted him to know that I was having a good day. Also during this time, the elite 50 milers were making their way down. I casually cheered for Sage (in 1st place) and Timothy like they were old friends.
Running down Cardiac. Running up was muddy and all, but running down was a shitshow (in the most fun way). Shortly after the aid station (which was my favorite of the day), I saw three friends. I’ve given a lot of high fives in my life and the ones I gave to Twig, Malone, and Sophia on Cardiac were three of my favorites. Two other women and I naturally grouped together during the descent and it was so nice to have people to talk to, though most energy was spent trying to stay upright. The trail was so slick and muddy that for those running down, you had to let go of any hesitation and just GO. Fortunately, almost all of the racers running up moved out of the way for us and many cheers and thanks were exchanged. During this time, I was pretty vocal about how fun it was and how much I love trail running and runners. Near the end of the descent was where I took my one fall of the day. I almost lost a shoe in the mud but nothing was hurt and I quickly got up and kept moving.
Resilience around mile 27. I had been focusing on the word ‘resilience’ and how being resilient means to keep pushing forward when you’re tested and you’ve been challenged. I knew that accomplishing my 50k goal would take more than just enduring and it was right after the mile 26.3 aid station when I proved to be resilient. The 26.3 station came after the toughest hill of the day and my legs were feeling pretty beat from both the ascent and descent. It was the first time during the race that I actually wished to be done; I should also note, it was probably the only time I didn’t smile. As I left the aid station, I gave myself a mental pat on the back for my brand new personal distance record but looking at the hill ahead of me, it was hard to want to keep running. I was with Amy, one of the women I befriended coming down Cardiac who also happens to be from Denver, and we were both feeling a little beat up but also determined. As we were trudging along, I said something to Amy about how it was the time to be resilient and saying it out loud was like flipping a switch for me. I started running again with a second wind that carried me through to the finish.
Final aid station and seeing relay runners. The last aid station was at mile 29.2 and I knew after that it was just a cruise down to the finish. I also knew this was the course for the relay runners so I would start to see some familiar faces. With every NP runner that passed me, a “Yeah, NP!” was exchanged. Brogan (co-founder of November Project) ran by and yelled out “Proud of you, dude.” right after another tribe member I’ve never met reminded me to be present in that moment right then. Amazing, yes. I pulled into the aid station already fighting back happy tears. I stopped for a few seconds to eat an orange slice and drink a cup of Coke and as I started out, Lauren (leader of NP San Diego) caught up to me and told me that Dan crushed it. As if I needed any more motivation to get to the finish line, hearing how well he did was it. Lauren, thanks for he update and telling me I looked good – you helped me push those last couple miles! All fired up, I felt like I was flying down that hill and then I noticed a familiar woman up ahead – it was the other lady I was with coming down Cardiac; we had been leap-frogging with each other all day. So, I caught up with her and passed her for the final time of the race with a “hell yeah! go get it” exchange.

I finished in 5:38, muddy and tired but completely in-tact, with a massive smile on my face. There are no words for sharing a feeling of such accomplishment with people you love who are celebrating too and I’m so grateful for the friends I got to experience this with. I’ve been racing for a few years now and many of my recent races have ended with me feeling beat up and defeated. I walked away from this race feeling energized, excited, and proud. I’m fired up for the next one and after a little bit of a break, I’m ready to start training again.

All of this really doesn’t mean all that much without people to experience it with. Without November Project, I wouldn’t have this community that’s become my family made up of badass, inspiring, caring individuals. Huge thanks to Dan for running up mountains with me on the weekends (among a million other things I’m grateful for that contributed to this day). And, many, many thanks to Robyn for being the best running partner I could ask for! It’s been so special to share this training and race cycle and to truly feel like I have someone who is experiencing it all – the hard work, the tough times, and the achievement – with me.

Snohomish River Run Half-Marathon Race Recap

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A lot of the time, you don’t really know who will show up on race day.

This is something I’ve learned time and time again, however I tend to forget how true it is until after I’ve finished a race.

Yesterday, I tried to keep it in the front of my mind from the get-go: It may not have been ideal race-preparedness, but that didn’t mean that big things couldn’t happen.

Backing up. Late Friday afternoon, I decided I wanted to try and run below 1:38. This would mean a PR, but in my mind it was more than that; I’ve felt a little stuck in the 1:38-1:41 range in the half-marathon, and I wanted to set the bar higher. It wasn’t going to be the best pre-race set up as I had a wedding to attend on race eve—which I was fully intent on enjoying as much as possible. But, I didn’t want to use that as an excuse for not trying hard at a race I’d been anticipating for a while. So, I didn’t even let myself have the out, and instead just went with it.

Of course, as always, the will to run well can only go so far—which is why when I prepped for the race on Sunday morning, I kept in mind the above mentality that anyone can show up on race day, and all I could do was the best with what the day gave.

Hotel room selfie. Oiselle jersey, Flyte shorts, arm warmers, and Brooks Pure Connects.

So, I showered (new race day routine must-do!), ate a little, hydrated a lot, and attempted to psych myself up. We had stayed in Everett after the wedding as the race was only about 5 minutes away from the guest-designated hotel, so ease of transportation and convenience was definitely on my side. The weather, however, was not.

I opened the curtains of our hotel room after being 100% ready to go and was greeted with the disheartening sight of huge puddles that were filling by the minute from the incessant rain. It had been so long since we had real rainfall in Seattle (somehow) that I hadn’t even considered it could be an issue on race day. It was also still dark and cold, so needless to say…my gun-ho attitude was waning on the drive to the start line.

However, the show must go on, and after retrieving my bib and chip, I did some warm up drills and tried to get in the zone. There were more people doing this race than I’d anticipated, which helped fuel the pre-race energy. Before I knew it, we were all lining up just as the rain subsided a bit. Score! I saw two teammates at the start line as well, Caryn and Erica, who went on to finish as 2nd and 3rd women overall. No big deal, right? After the race director gave some course instructions and wished everyone good luck, we were off!

All I knew about the course was that it was flat, but otherwise I was a little blind in terms of what to expect. It became obvious pretty quick that we were in for a pretty lengthy out-and-back for the majority of the race, which was a little disheartening, but I tried to not think about it. I do like seeing runners pass on the other side, so this would be a plus. Additionally, we were on the course with the 10k runners who had started at a different time, so there were people around pretty consistently.

Flatty flat flat. I don’t know what that was…sorry.

For the first 3 miles or so, I tried to stick to the loose “plan” I’d put together. I figured if I started off around 7:30s, I could gradually drop down and still have some left for a kick at the end. Not exactly what happened, but not too far off:

Mile 1: 7:19

Mile 2: 7:28 (my attempt to get back to the plan)

Mile 3: 7:20

Eh, okay, a little fast, but I felt in control and that’s what I tried to focus on the most. I was a little oblivious to everything else aside from keeping myself “comfortably uncomfortable.” Once I get below a 7:30 pace, there are very narrow ranges for what feels okay and what feels like too much, so I paid a lot of attention to keeping tabs on my perceived effort.

I was trying to think of the whole endeavor as a 10-mile race followed by a 5k; keep it steady and controlled for 10 miles, and expect it to hurt in the last 3 miles. In this respect, I was very focused on staying in the mile and letting each individual mile be its own mini effort. It seemed to work, and despite being quicker than I’d planned…I was somehow staying incredibly consistent.

Mile 4: 7:22

Mile 5: 7:24

The course was quite flat as expected and wound along a small county highway. It was pretty, but a tad boring, and I was really glad to get to the turnaround around mile 4.7. At this point, I noticed there was a man about a stride and a half behind me, and he stayed either right there or next to me all the way back to the start of the out-and-back. It was incredibly helpful to share the pace with someone. I was running a little scared since I was running so much faster than I’m used to, and even the smallest mental reprieve of matching someone else’s pace was pretty clutch. I think I would have started hurting a lot earlier if it hadn’t been for the tall dude in the all-black compression clothing. Thank you, sir.

Mile 6: 7:16

Mile 7: 7:18

I ripped open a gel around mile 7, and slowly sucked it down for the next few miles. I also started taking water every ~1.5 miles or so, and I think maintaining this consistency was a big help. I was also starting to hurt around this point, too. My legs were getting a little toasty, and the increased pace was burning my lungs a little. It had also started to rain again, which coupled with a small headwind wasn’t making things better. However, I was able to maintain my “stay in the mile” mentality, and as long as I focused on each individual mile—I was able to push the fears of bonking to the back of my mind.

Mile 8: 7:21

Mile 9: 7:16

Tall man and I seemed to be picking it up at the very end of each mile, as we’d be between 7:20-7:25 throughout the mile and then drop in the final .1 or so. But I went with it. I could always feel it when we dropped below 7:20 (crazy just how noticeable it was), but I’d tell myself, “Okay, the next one can be 7:25,” and it somehow was a mental save.

Mile 10: 7:15

Tall man pulled ahead around this point, and we were passing back by the starting area and heading down to a paved path along the river. This is where I think my real mental battle began: It was time for those final 3 miles that I knew would hurt, and it was just me, alone. Since I was near-ish the front, we had all thinned out just enough that you felt like you were running alone, and it didn’t help that the winding river path obscured any forward looking. It was beautiful though, and I welcomed the change of scenery.

This portion was also an out-and-back, and it was a definite fight to get to the turnaround point. The most defeating part was when I saw the “Mile 11” marker when my watch read “11.2” No!!! The mile markers had been so accurate throughout the course, and it was so saddening to not only think I’d have to run further than I thought…but that I’d be logging another long half-marathon course.

Mile 11: 7:13

But, I kept on, and finally the turnaround point appeared. I’d been able to see the top runners coming back by the other way, and I thought I was probably within the top 10 females. There were two women about 100 yards or so ahead of me, but for the first time maybe ever in a race…I didn’t really care. I was already giving everything I had, and I was completely content letting that be enough.

Mile 12: 7:20

I was thrilled when the mile 12 marker appeared right on schedule with my Garmin, and the thought of “only a mile let to go” was so relieving. I was so excited to finish and anxious to see what my finish time would be…because not once during the entire race did I have the energy to try and compute it myself.

Mile 13: 7:21

I was closing in on the girl immediately ahead of me in the last 1/4 mile, but there wasn’t much more I could do at that point. Even my “kick” wasn’t much more than the pace I’d already been maintaining. Regardless, I was elated to see the finish line come into view, and I dug deep into the dregs of energy I had left and strode my way as best I could to the end.

Last .1: 54 seconds (6:43 pace)

There’s a smile on that face!

I saw the clock ahead reading “1:36:xx” and I was ecstatic. I figured I’d be below 1:38, but this was better than I could have hoped for.

Smiling big, I crossed the finish line, stopped my watch and saw a “1:36:14” flash back.

Official time: 1:36:11, 9th female overall (<– lucky number alert!), 2nd in age group

How did that happen?!

I was in pretty immediate need of my space blanket and water (and my medal, duh 🙂 ) and gingerly made my way to the finishing chute exit. Despite the plethora of post-race food (hot soup, cheese samples, bagels, etc) I couldn’t even think about getting anything down. I did manage to grab a bowl for BF though, who’d been dutifully waiting in the rain for me to finish.

I wanted at least one photo of the pretty river we’d been running along.

After a little bit of meandering, I wanted to skedaddle back to Seattle as soon as possible. There were football games to watch after all! I also felt ridiculously wiped; the kind of fatigue that normally only comes after a sleepless night. Needless to say, you can probably guess how the rest of the day played out 🙂

I’m really, really happy with how this race went. I was glad I was able to stay composed and strong despite the intimidating speeds, and I’m satisfied with the consistent pace—probably the most consistent I’ve ever done. Primarily, it felt great to break through the threshold I’d been dancing around for a while. No, the time isn’t the 1:35:xx I’ve been lusting after, but I can honestly say I left nothing out on the course…which in no way can I be disappointed about. This race gives me the motivation that with a little more time, more training, and more practice, there are big things to come.

No running blogger has ever posted this type of picture ever. But look! Consistency!

Running is a fascinating sport, and it was races like yesterday that keep me wanting to discover the mysteries of running even more.

I’m tempted to say that this is the end of my racing season for the year, but who really knows. For right now though, I’ll be hibernating for a little while, and I’m definitely looking forward to some rest time.

Thanks all for the good luck texts, tweets, and notes. Your encouragement is invaluable.

The Salty Half-Marathon Race Recap

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It seems that the theme of this past summer has carried over into the fall—that theme, being, complete and total race/running spontaneity. I suppose this comes with the territory of not being extra strict with training or having a huge A race on the horizon… two things of which are my typical M.O. 24/7.

My broadly stated goal this fall was the work on speed, and while there is/was a tangible goal time I’m working toward, it’s been fairly loosey goosey around these parts for the past few months.

Which is why, when asked on a Tuesday if I wanted to run a half-marathon (The Salty Half) that following Saturday, it took me all of a few minutes to happily accept. Those who know me wouldn’t think that this was an exceptionally random decision, with the small caveat that I’m running another half this coming weekend, the Snohomish River Run. I couldn’t pass this one up though; not only was it $22 and included the company of these two, the start line was about a half mile from my house.

That said, I knew that I’d have to choose one of the two races to actually race and one to fun run. Since the Salty Half was a last minute decision, less official, and wouldn’t be tapered for whatsoever, I decided to take it easier on this one. Anddd, that actually didn’t end up being the case, but we’ll get to that later.

Saturday morning bright (dark) and early, I trotted down the hill to meet Lindsay and Nicole at the start line. There were just under 100 people running the race, so it was easy and casual—not timing chips or mats. It was super foggy, probably 85-90% humidity, but it was brisk and cold which is always my jam.

I had very little plan in terms of race execution. I wanted to save race pace for the next weekend, but I also know myself well enough to know I would want to compete a little. And considering the size of this race…I knew I could probably do fairly well if I tried. So, upon starting, I decided to just feel out the first few miles and settle wherever I felt comfortable. I knew for sure I wanted to go for a fast finish, so the only plan really was to save some for the end.

I settled into a group of two girls and a dude running a ~7:45 pace, which felt super comfortable. We were continually switching spots in the pack, and it was the first time I really understood to concept of “doing the work” in a pace group. I took the lead a few times, but otherwise I decided to just stick with this group so long as the pace felt manageable.

The course circled around Alki beach to Lincoln Park, which is my normal long run 80% of the time. Needless to say, I knew every upcoming turn and divet in the road, which meant I didn’t need to worry about course surprises.

We dropped one of the girls around mile 5, and then it was primarily another gal and me side-by-side, nearly stride-for-stride. She introduced herself, thanked me for the company, and we kept on like that for nearly 3 miles. It was the perfect silent runner agreement: You keep me going, and I’ll keep you going.

The turnaround in Lincoln Park was right at the halfway point (out and back course) and my legs felt good. I admit, I heard the siren sound of the race atmosphere get a little louder, and I started to think about executing a kick.

As we exited Lincoln Park (~5 miles to go), my new friend fell back a bit, and since I felt great, I kept on at the same clip. To go from having lots of fellow-runner support around me to instantly having no one was weird. Crazy how simply having someone to share the miles, fatigue, and pace with can make such a difference.

I was in a bit of a conundrum at this point. I knew I was the current 5th overall female (they were giving out prizes out to 5th place), and I (obviously) liked the idea of a top-5 finish. I also knew that the girl behind me could be thinking the same thing, and playing an A+ game of letting me take an early lead. I went back and forth or whether I should slow down, speed up, or stay where I was. It was the first time I’ve ever actively thought about placing strategy in a race. Kind of fun! But stressful. I ultimately decided that since the pace I was at felt good, I would stick with it. If she caught me, I’d let her go by, and I’d save the chase for the final few miles.

Between miles 10 and 11, a familiar face strode up beside me; my friend Charles was out for his weekend long run and I filled him in on the spontaneous race decision and my current position. Charles is faster than me, and when he offered to help me ward off the girl behind and nab a top-five finish, I was 100% on board. He told me to tell him what felt pace manageable, and we’d hold that until the end.

And so we ran. I attempted to chat, but he made me save my breath while he distracted me with his own stories. Around 11.5, I started hurting some, but I was determined to keep stride with Charles and finish the race strong.

It was a little hard to determine exactly who around us was running the race and who wasn’t, since it wasn’t a closed course and there were tons of people out, both racers and non-racers. So, when Charles asked if a girl about 200 yards ahead was the 4th place female, I wasn’t sure. He said we could catch her if I wanted, and with a nod, we were on the hunt. Sure enough, once we passed, he verified that she was wearing a bib and I was now in 4th place. There was less than a mile to go now, and I was feeling both anxious to finish and determined to keep on my game face.

I have a fairly instinctual finishing kick, which comes I think from my track days, but also from my ingrained competitiveness. With a half mile or so to go, without even realizing it, we were passing another girl, and Charles turned to me and said the most Robyn-Broker-esque motivation there is: “You’re in third now, and you have to prove it.”

So, with my aching legs and screeching lungs, I officially kicked my “fun run” intentions to the curb, opened my stride, and gutted it out—determined for my first “podium” finish.

(Side note: The nice thing about having a pacer is that they can check and see the progress of the person behind you)

With the finish line in sight, I gave it everything I had, only to be directed into a mini-turnaround and loop to the actual finish line (way to throw off our momentum guys!). Charles took off running on his own, I squawked out a thanks, and ran my way to cinch the 3rd place female spot.

Unofficial finish time: 1:40:06 for 13.2 miles

Hooray! I was awarded a huge plastic fish with a “Third Place” tag on it as soon as I finished, along with a “Salty Half Marathon” sweat towel. Sweet!

*FYI, the race has self-declared “messed up” the places and timing on their results page, which they promised to fix. Just in case anyone decided to lurk 🙂

After thoughts: Obviously, this wasn’t exactly the relaxed race I intended it to be. Did I shoot myself in the foot though for this upcoming weekend? Not necessarily. Yes, it was a harder effort than I intended, but with the exception of the last three miles, I felt composed and comfortable for the entire race.

This was certainly a small, pick-up race, but I’m glad I was able to actually learn a lot from it. This was a first time for running in a pack, “making a move,” and truly executing a big finishing kick. All of these are valuable training tools, and I feel like they’ll come into play more often now that I have a better feel for them. I was also really encouraged by this race: it was my 5th day of running in a row, my legs were pretty wiped going into it, and yet the 7:35 pace I averaged felt very do-able.

Good things from a small, random race.

I’m excited for this weekend. As has become standard, I’m not sure of my specific goals, other than to log another solid half-marathon. This distance has been really fun to practice recently, and I’m looking forward to seeing how racing 13.1 more often affects my next 26.2 endeavor. On that note: less than 6 months til Boston!!!

And since this race recap is void of any pictures whatsoever (sorry…) here is a picture of Jasper with my fish prize. He is not too impressed.

Thanks Lindsay for the race idea and Nicole for submitting to peer pressure 🙂

Bellingham Bay Half-Marathon Race Recap

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Lots of things to say about yesterday’s race. For a quick minute in there, I was disappointed that I was (spoiler) only 20 seconds off my PR. I was also disappointed for an instant that my watch (along with those of several around me) read a long course and not a true 13.1. However, after those thoughts subsided and I thought back on the race that I’d run, I landed in the spot I am today: both very pleased and very encouraged.

I went into this race with some trepidation about the conditions (blustery and rainy) but also with a lot of gusto to run a good race. Relatively speaking, I hadn’t raced in a while, and I was ready to see what my legs could do. I rested all day Saturday (a new approach for me), hydrated well, slept well, and treated the run like a real race.

Low and behold, race morning comes, and the drive up to Bellingham was…ominous. It was pouring, windy, and the perfect conditions for sleeping in and hot coffee…not running 13.1 miles in spandex and a tank top. But I kept my spirits high, and after an easy bib pick-up and some dynamic stretching, I forgot about the weather and tried to get in the zone. Spotting some fellow Oiselle teammates helped kindle my excitement, and I felt proud to be wearing the same singlet as such fast women.

Before I knew it, the countdown was on, and boom…we were running a half marathon. Tried and true to the start of any race, I a) felt incredible and b) knew I was going too fast. A look down at my watch about a half mile in would verify that my 7:00 “easy” pace was certainly not the way to start off a distance race, so I tried to tug back. Ugh, why is this always so hard? Every time I swear to myself I’ll follow the rules and hold back at the start, and every time I cross a start line I abandon all those good intentions. But, I forgave myself, let a faster mile 1 clock in, and prepared to reel in the reigns.

I felt so good during these first few miles. Like, better than I’ve felt running in a long long time. Isn’t that what we hope to feel during races? Anyway, I alternated between sharing paces with others, pulling back when they surged, and going ahead when they fell behind. Generally, it just felt great to be racing, and I let that mindset and momentum carry me through the early miles:

Mile 1: 7:14

Mile 2: 7:22

Mile 3: 7:23

In terms of pacing for this race, my goal was to stick to 7:30s for the first half and open it up if I could during the second half. So, once I reentered the 7:20s, I considered it okay and just went with it. I also knew that there was an incline coming up in mile 4 which would get things back in line.

That incline came and I already knew that my legs were in for a hard race, should I keep this pace up. My breathing sped up and my HR surged a little, reminding me that I was—in fact—racing. But, per usual after a hill reclines to a flat grade, my legs started turning over again and invited the steady downhill that would come in the next few miles.

Mile 4: 7:47

I knew that miles 5-7 were on a downhill, and I’d planned ahead of time to use those miles to my advantage. What I hadn’t considered, though, was that these miles would also change the direction of the course directly into the forecasted wind. These miles were also pretty exposed, which made the wind even more difficult to avoid, but nonetheless…I tried to gun it a little.

Mile 5: 7:18

Mile 6: 7:06

Mile 7: 7:01

There was a bit in there where my watch read 6:xx, which both horrified and exhilarated me. I’d never seen a pace in the 6s during a half marathon, and it was a definite confidence booster to see that pop up.

The course flattened out after this, and the headwind seemed to take a turn directly into our faces. I tore open my gel around this point too and held it for the next few miles, taking drags from it whenever I felt steady. We reentered downtown Bellingham, and there were a few twisty inclines that definitely slowed me down and reminded me of the miles I’d already logged. My energy started waning a little around miles 9-10, and looking back on the elevation profile of the course, it’s obvious that those mini hills took their toll.

Mile 8: 7:34

Mile 9: 7:45

Mile 10: 7:40

We were on a dirt path along the bay at this point, which was warmly welcomed after all the pavement pounding. Although my watch had been a little off the whole race, it was really off once I got to mile 10, which was a little discouraging. My miles were beeping at least 2/10 of a mile before the mile markers, and a fellow racer confirmed that her Garmin was at the same distance as mine. Admittedly, I fumed about this for a bit, considering I thought a PR was within reach should the course be 13.1, but I put that thought out of my mind and tried to just run the race I was running and enjoy it as much as I could.

Once I got to mile 10.5 or so, I resolved to kick it up in the last 5k, and that mind shift seemed to give me a bit of a second wind as well. I was hurting, but not done yet, and I wanted to finish strong. There was a STEEP boat ramp during mile 11 that felt like I was walking, which took a lot of self-talk to get up and over especially with another hilly ~1.5 miles to go afterward.

Mile 11: 7:17

Mile 12: 7:58

Alas, up I went, and we turned into the homestretch. Something I really like about this race is that it’s an essentially straight shot to this finish, and it seemed like everyone around me was pulling out everything they had to fire their final canons. I’d been leap-frogging with a few men the whole race, and all of us were straightening up and putting on our best race faces during this final stretch. Lots of fun.

However, things were hurting. This last mile was consistently up and down hill, and I was definitely feeling all the changing elevation, despite how minimal it actually was. When my watch beeped “13” I was nowhere near the mile marker, so I made a mental note to check “my” half marathon time in another .1 miles.

Mile 13: 7:12

Eventually, the finish line came into view, and I dug out my final dregs of speed as much as I could—I’ll be damned if that clock changes to 1:39!

Final .32 miles: 6:37

Official finish time: 1:38:47, 16th woman overall

After a momentary feeling of being punched in the gut, I pulled it together, got my medal and space blanket and regaled on what just happened: Was that the fastest I’ve ever run before?

Technically, no. My official half-marathon PR is 22 seconds faster than that. But, in reality…it actually might be.

I am certainly not someone to play the, “But my watch said xx:xx!” card. I believe we all run the same course, the same race, no matter what, and the numbers we clock individually are secondary. But, .2 miles off is significant enough that I’m inclined to look at my pace according to the distance I logged rather than a 13.1 distance. Furthermore, in the case that I ran 13.32 miles in 1:38:47, I ran a 7:24 pace, which is easily faster than I’ve ever run a half marathon before. Take it or leave it, I realize this is a controversial topic, but I’m having a hard time ignoring that figure.

Despite the could-haves and maybes of the off-distance, I certainly had miles during this race that were both unexpected and mini personal-record breaking. The fact that 6.32 miles were under 7:20s is incredibly encouraging, and it brightens my hopes for a 1:35:xx in the (hopefully) not-so-distant future.

I also felt like I was able to handle discomfort during this race much better than I’ve been able to before. One of my goals going into it was to keep my head on and not let the pain shadow my confidence. I tried to keep this in the front of my mind during those tougher miles, and I’m happy that I feel like I was able to stay comfortable being uncomfortable. There were some bleak minutes, certainly, but it felt like my resolve to push through was able to suppress those dark voices—which is something I’ve definitely struggled with in the past.

So, all in all, it was a great race. I’m happy that the rain held off (mostly), and despite the comprised conditions, I ran the best race I could. I have high hopes for what’s to come, and a little more gusto in my motivation to start training a little harder. The half-marathon is a fun and tough distance, and I’m excited to see what the next two this year have in store.

And a huge congrats to the other ladies who ran this race! In case I needed a spoonful of humble stew, the other 4 gals I ran with finish in 3, 4, 5, and 7th. Yes, really. Speedy ladies! Super impressive.

Happy Monday all!

See Jane Run Half-Marathon Race Recap

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Never before in my running career (except in high school) have I raced as much as I have this summer. It was 100% unintentional, but somehow I have found myself at several start lines (with more to come…). It helped that two of these races were free. Actually who am I kidding…that’s more or less the reason I’ve done so many. But free or not, I love racing, and I’m really happy to get the chance to do more of it.

As I wrote in my last post, I like to have intentions behind my races—even if those intentions have nothing to do with time. So with the See Jane Run half-marathon on Sunday, I definitely had some “guidelines.” Including (roughly):

1) Save your energy—conservative start

2) Fast finish

3) Make it hurt (a little)

I’m really trying to use the chance to race in the heat to my advantage, despite how much I dislike it. I’m 100% a cold weather racer, always have been, and I have always felt defeated a little when the temperatures rise and my speed and energy decline. But, I’m trying to turn this into a positive and hopefully by doing the hot work now, it will make the cooler temps all the more luxurious.

So let’s get this race recap started already, shall we?

Pre-race mirror selfie + dirty room.

I did something I have never done before a half before this race—I warmed up. Not far—just a little half mile jog with a couple of strides to get my legs warm and my turnover going. I was a little wary of not storing all my energy, but I actually really liked this and I started the race feeling more ready to go than usual.

After said warm-up, I scuttled my way to the first corral and right at 8 am, we were off.

I immediately felt really happy to be racing a half on such a beautiful day with a bunch of runner gals. Despite how competitive I am (which would be proven later on), there was something great about racing among a (primarily) all-female group. There’s this unspoken sisterhood between ladies who run, and I could definitely feel it crossing the start line on Sunday.

Moving onto the nitty gritty:

Miles 1 and 2:

7:39, 7:40

Well, my “guideline” number 1 was kind of blown, but I figured that this would just make guideline number 2 even tougher and thus make guideline number 3 a success. I couldn’t help starting this way—I felt so good! But eventually, once reality settled in, I dialed it back a bit and focused on getting into a groove.

Miles 3 and 4:

7:48, 7:44

The beginning miles of this race are all along Lake Union and the canal, so there was a lot of shade and a nice breeze. It was very comfortable running, and once the crowds thinned a little I really felt in a groove. There was an out-and-back after mile 3 or so, and I quickly realized that the mile markers were very off. I verified this when I heard some gals around me comparing their own measurements, but I figured it would all settle itself eventually.

Miles 5, 6 and 7:

7:45, 7:50, 8:10

These are the miles where a half-marathon starts to get more real for me—kind of like miles 14-18 of a marathon. The middle miles. The miles you forget about until you’re in them and you realize you’ve already run for an hour or so but you still have the harder stuff left. Luckily, I was still feeling good—a little hot, but luckily we were still reasonably shaded. I was also having a grand ole time targeting and leap-frogging with other runners. I knew I was in the top 30 or so women, meaning that it was safe to assume that everyone around me was down for some racing. I definitely noticed a little sass between runners during this race, especially when I would pass someone— but in a good competition kind of way. Anyway, it made it fun and offered some distraction. Around mile 7 I felt like I was primarily passing people as opposed to getting passed, which gave me some hope that all my goals going into this race weren’t lost. Around mile 7 was the dreaded “super steep” hill on the course. It was definitely steep and slowed me down, but it wasn’t awful.

Miles 8, 9, and 10:

8:10, 7:42, 7:53

This is where the only hills in this race were, but they didn’t bother me too much. With every uphill comes a downhill, and as much as the uphills can drain my energy, I always gain momentum on the way back down. We passed back by Gasworks and the finish line on the way to the final out-and-back, which was a little deflating, however I was prepared for it and didn’t actually mind as much as I anticipated.

I should also note that the mile markers were still off, and I was pretty certain around this point that the course would end up short. Kind of a bummer, although ultimately we would all be running the same distance. Good thing I wasn’t going for a personal best, but this seems like something that should definitely be fixed next year.

I was getting warmer and my stomach started to squirm a little around mile 10. Heat does this too me—especially if my fuel isn’t sitting properly (which it wasn’t). I tried sucking on a Honey Stinger gel packet around 8.5, and despite my best efforts it wasn’t going to happen. I need to get better at fueling somehow.

Nearing mile 11, I was dreading my self-proclaimed “fast finish,” but I was also excited to try and gut it out with a few of the girls around me. This part was also exciting because we were able to see the lead ladies coming back by us, and the first gal (who was crushing everyone) was SO YOUNG. I think she may have been 14-16 years old? Ridiculous. I gave her an obligatory, “You go girl,” as she sprinted by me.

Miles 11, 12, “13”

7:52, 7:31, 6:17 (final .86 mile)

I was happy I was able to punch it up a little in the end. I didn’t feel great, but I didn’t feel completely depleted. It was right where I wanted to be—a little pain, but not all out. The final mile was fun as we entered back in Gasworks with lots of people watching and a nice final path to run down. About 200 meters from the finish line, I was around 1:39:30, and I did all I could to keep that 1:39 on the clock. It was probably the fastest sprint I’ve ever done at the end of a race. Seeing BF and high-fiving him right before crossing the end was fun too 🙂

My watch read 1:40:06 when I finally finished, which was too bad, but since I was sure the course measurement was wrong anyway, it didn’t matter too much. Also, duh, this wasn’t a goal race, so I was mainly just happy to be done and to have (mostly) accomplished what I wanted to.

Half-marathon number #8, check!

The finishing area was fun, with lots of samples and not enough hands to hold it all. My stomach was still waging war, so after one failed attempt at a donut hole I had to refuse all the other goodies. I felt better after two bottles of water, but I just don’t think my system will ever get used to racing in warmer temps.

It’s all part of the training though. And this race was exactly what I wanted in terms of race practice and getting into a manageable pain place.

Oh and I started wearing sunglasses when I run. LOVE.

Final results:

Time: 1:40:08

Overall: 26/975

Age Group: 6/171 <— homegirls are FAST! The next closest girl to me ran a 1:34.

Pace: 7:38 (if the course was 13.1, if it was 12.86 like I clocked, pace was 7:47)

Overall, I was happy with this race. It felt challenging but not too hard, and while the thought of averaging a pace 30 seconds faster than this in just over two months is still horrifying, I’m thankful for the opportunity to practice racing the distance.

I also know there’s lots of time before Bellingham, and I have some strategies up my sleeve to help my 1:35 goal become a reality. More to follow later on. See Jane Run will, however, more than likely be my last half before that goal race, which I’m hoping will help to kindle some necessary race-day fire.

Special thanks to RoseRunner for my entry to this race!

And now…let’s run some ultra relays!

Did you run See Jane Run? How did it go??

Seattle Rock ‘n’ Roll Half-Marathon Race Recap

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Surprise! I ran a half marathon on Saturday.

This literally is “proof” I was there. No timing chip= ghost runner!

Early last week, I was hit with the overwhelming desire to do a half that weekend. It just sounded fun—and I knew there was trail half I’d considered earlier this year, so I went to the website to check it out. Alas—the race was sold out, and so I decided to shelve my race desire and hold off until See Jane Run in July. That was the last I thought of doing a half marathon that upcoming weekend.

Then Friday morning came around. A coworker sent out an email to my office’s runner distribution list (yes, it exists) asking if anyone wanted her bib for Saturday’s Rock ‘n’ Roll race. She is/was injured and didn’t want her entry to go to waste—essentially, the bib was up for grabs.

It took me all of five minutes to consider the offer, and after deciding that sacrificing a morning of sleeping in was definitely worth running a free race, I emailed her back and presto…I was running the Seattle Rock ‘n’ Roll half! I had been planning on doing a long run that day anyway, so I figured I might as well get a medal in the process 🙂 Plus, I’d never done a Rock ‘n’ Roll race before, and I wanted to see what all the hype was about—especially if it wasn’t going to cost an arm and a leg to do so.

It was definitely a low-stress race eve and morning. I didn’t do much to prepare ahead of time other than stretching a bit more on Friday night. And, considering that I’d run three days in a row already at that point, I wasn’t expecting much in the way of fast legs. But, that’s the price you pay for an impromptu race, so I went into it without much of a strategy other than to have fun and enjoy the race atmosphere. I also decided to try racing for the first time without headphones, mostly to see how it felt, but also to soak in some of the “rock ‘n’ roll” atmosphere.

Sleepy eyes but excited to run!

BF dropped me off with plenty of time to meander around, find some blogger peeps, and get set in my corral without any stress. Luckily, I didn’t need the porta-potties because they had perhaps the longest lines I have EVER seen at a race. Yikes…happy to have dodged that potentially very stressful situation.

Photo courtesy of Stacie!

I was in corral 6 so it didn’t take too long before we were shuffled to the start line and were sent off. Woo, race time! I wasn’t wearing a timing chip, just my Garmin, and it was kind of fun to feel like a phantom runner. The beginning was crowded, and per usual a lot of weaving happened. It was inevitable, but apparently my pace was more panicked than I thought because once I was able to get past the crowds I was looking at a low 7:00s pace. Holddd up there homegirl, this is supposed to be fun.

Miles 1-3

I dialed in and tried to find my rhythm. To tell you the truth, those first three miles were kind of tough. My breathing was distracting me, and although I run without music a lot of the time, it’s normally at a slower pace, and I think race-day conditions got the better of my heart rate—consequentially increasing my breathing. Also, I was already hot—definitely not my favorite racing conditions. And by not my favorite…I mean absolute least favorite.

But I tried to relax, got excited when I saw the Oiselle/Nuun/runner gals a little after mile 2, and finally found a comfortable pace.

Here’s also where I admit that while I definitely didn’t have a set time goal, I still wanted to use the race as an opportunity for pacing practice. So while shooting for another ~1:40 was tempting, I decided that aiming for just a sub-8:00 average would be both more feasible and more constructive.

Find the up and down hills!

Clearly, I was all over the place, and I really wanted to work on just getting comfortable and cruising.

Miles 4-8

We circled away from downtown at this point and headed on a long stretch of road. I started feeling much better—more relaxed and in control—and started enjoying the atmosphere and the scenery. I thought the whole band element was kind of fun, and even though I was kind of missing my music, it was nice to hear all the various sounds of the race. I got more than one “Go Ducks!” which I realized was due to the Eugene pride I was sporting 🙂

The course veered left during these miles and took us along the water on Lake Washington—easily my favorite part of the run. Lots of people cheering, lots of enthusiasm, just generally a happy running ethos.

You can’t really tell, but I’m happy here!

Miles 9-11

I was definitely feeling the increasing temperatures, but it was encouraging to know that we’d shortly be headed back toward downtown. Not so encouraging, however, was knowing that all the hills on the course were still to come.

A STEEP ascent lead us up into the I-90 tunnel, which is never my favorite in Seattle races, but there was a band inside which made it a little more tolerable. We were nearing the 10 mile mark when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and it was a guy who goes to my lifting class who said he “recognized the back of my head.” Kind of fun.

He passed me pretty quick, and it gave me a bit of a jolt to keep treking toward the finish. I loved exiting the tunnel and eventually flying down the I-90 ramp back toward downtown. I recognized the same place I picked up Nicole last year when she was running the full, and it felt really good to actually be running the race this year.

It was very noticeably still getting hotter, and running on the highway gave no relief from the sun. Still, I tried to start some mental math and garner some energy for a solid kick at the end.

Miles 12-13

Alas, no kick was had. Not sure if it was the heat, the hills (of which the end had way too many), or the fact that I was running on very un-tapered legs, but I was toasted. However, I was still excited for the finish line and did what I could to get there with a smile. The crowds at this point had also thickened and provided a lot of encouragement.

The finish line chute was definitely exciting, and despite feeling hot and tired, I was really happy crossing at the end. Two weekends in a row of finish lines, I feel lucky.

As for time, my Garmin showed a 1:43 and change for 13.2 miles. I’m not sure if the tunnel threw off my distance calculation or if the course was long, but it doesn’t really matter.

I was a little sad I wasn’t closer to 1:40 for a bit, but then I knocked myself off my high horse and decided to be satisfied with the run. A 7:50 average on tired legs and a dehydrated/not carb-loaded stomach isn’t anything to complain about for an impromptu race.

Ultimately, I had a great time at Rock ‘n’ Roll. It was a beautiful day with a ton of fun people and a fat ole medal to boot.

I feel really grateful for both the opportunity to have run this race (for free!) and also for the physical ability to do a half on a whim. It’s definitely not lost on me that I was injured a year ago and could only run about 3 miles at a time. A lot can change, and I only hope the healthy legs will continue!

Eugene Marathon Race Recap

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Something funny happens when you finally experience something that you’ve been thinking about and dreaming about for a long time: it doesn’t feel real.

That’s how I feel today about Sunday’s race. Because although I definitely felt the build-up, the pain, and the joy of it at the time, I’m still having a hard time internalizing that it happened.

And it did happen…that moment that I’ve been focusing on and training toward for months and months; it’s actually a reality.

Spoiler alert:

So while it might not have totally sunk in yet, I’m so happy that today I can announce that I did indeed qualify for Boston!

This race had the quintessential makings of a marathon experience: the adrenaline-filled, blissful first half, the scary and lonely middle miles, a head first slam into the wall, and a finish line that felt like the best place in the world.

Let’s go back to the beginning:

I was really confident in my training going into this race. I felt as if I had done everything I could, and I knew that unless disaster struck, I would have a pretty good shot at my goals.

BF and I did a little shake out 4-miler on Saturday, and we headed to the expo which helped crank up my excitement.

There was a little caveat though in terms of my race prep that had me worried. On Thursday night, I slept really poorly, as I did again on Friday night thanks to a late night of driving down to Oregon. Now, I think we all know that the golden rule of marathoning is that you want to get a lot of sleep the night before race eve, as a restless sleep is pretty much a given on the night before any race. So, on Saturday I was already worn out from the two nights before, and couldn’t stop thinking about how important it was that I sleep well that night.

And guess what? When you think about sleep, particularly on a night before you attempt a huge running goal, there is no possible way you can fall asleep. And that’s exactly what happened to me. Despite my fatigue, I spent hours awake attempting every trick in the book to wind down and shut off my brain. When my 5:30 alarm went off, I knew there was no way I had slept more than 3 hours…all of which was in 20 minute increments. Not exactly comforting.

But, I couldn’t do anything about it. And despite feeling exhausted, the race day hype kicked in like clockwork, and I was excited to get going.

I got to the start line in plenty of time for a porta-potty stop and good corral placement. I even managed to see Lora at the start! I was really impressed with the set-up and general energy of the starting area, especially that it was right outside of Hayward field where we would eventually end up.

After the National Anthem was sung and a moment of silence was held for Boston (so beautiful and powerful), it was only a matter of minutes before they let our corral cross the start line. And off we went!

Despite a gradual uphill start, I was filled with energy from the crowds and the general atmosphere. I really internalized that I was in track town, running a marathon, and striving for a goal that felt unattainable just a year ago. Needless to say, I clocked in a wee bit too fast:

Mile 1: 7:36

I knew I needed to buckle in, get it together, and run the race I planned out. I didn’t want to regret going too fast, so I spent a good amount of time in the first few miles getting to an 8 minute pace. I don’t like looking at my watch so often, but in races, I’ve found that a lot of my pacing instincts are thrown off.

Mile 2: 7:55

Mile 3: 8:01

I ran into Sarah just before mile 4, who stood out immediately in her bridal running outfit. She was running the half and gave me some good words of encouragement. Thanks Sarah!

Mile 4: 8:03

Mile 5: 7:49

The “hill” that was promised at mile 4 was barely anything to worry about, and there was a very nice downhill for a while afterward. I try to use downhills to my advantage as much as possible, so I forgave the quicker paces that were showing up.

Mile 6: 7:53

Mile 7: 7:58

Still, I needed to focus on the “slower start” I had promised myself I’d stick to. I knew another hill was coming up in mile 8, which would obviously help.

I saw my cheer squad for the first time also around 7.5, which is where I took my first few Honey Stingers as well. I loved seeing them, and I knew seeing them later on during the race was going to be really helpful. It certainly added that they were wearing these shirts:

My family surprised me with Run Birdie Run shirts!

Surprise! Run Birdie Run shirts!

Mile 8: 7:56

Mile 9: 8:04

Side note: The “hills” in this race aren’t anything to worry about. If you train with hills even a little bit, you wouldn’t bat an eye at this course.

By this point, we were leaving the cute Eugene neighborhoods and heading toward the river. We passed by Hayward and I caught a glimpse of the enormous sign that read: “Believe in the Power of the Run.”

Track town, you cut me right to the core.

I knew we would be splitting from the half-ers around mile 10, and I mentally prepared myself to get into the marathon zone. It’s those middle miles that can feel scary and daunting, so I tried to psych myself up for them.

Mile 10: 7:57

Mile 11: 8:02

Mile 12: 7:55

I was leap-frogging back and forth with a few runners, but it felt like we were pulling each other along instead of competing. Around this point, a shirtless dude with the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen starting matching me stride-for-stride, and it was obvious he wanted to share a pace. Alrighty sir, let’s do it.

Mile 13: 8:00

I LOVE reaching the halfway point in marathons. Mentally, I start to count down instead of up, and I was feeling pretty good at this point as well, which was encouraging. I had clocked just under a 1:44 half, which made me think that a sub 3:30 might be possible.

Miles 13-17 were probably the least memorable for me. They were in a lonely, residential area that was a little boring. I remembered getting to mile 17 and thinking, “Less than 10 to go!” which helped. I was definitely starting to feel tired at this point, and by tired I mean literally…I could have curled up on the side of the road and fallen asleep.

Mile 14: 7:53

Mile 15: 7:55

Mile 16: 7:49

Mile 17: 7:55

My legs were feeling pretty good, although my right leg was doing a strange thing that it had done on a few training runs where my glute, hamstring, calf, and even foot all got tight. Not painful, just tight. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t run through, but it definitely reminded me that I was running a marathon. We were on a beautiful path along the river at this point, which helped mix up the race and kept things interesting.

Mile 18: 8:00

Mile 19: 8:00

I saw my family again during mile 18, which provided another boost. More Honey Stingers, and my mom ran with me a few paces to check in. I admitted to her that I felt tired, and she reminded me to slow down if I needed to. No worries Ma, I had been thinking that same thing.

It was comforting to know that I’d gained a lot of time in terms of running under 3:35. While I always love the idea of negative splitting, sometimes in the marathon you need to go with the flow and let your body do the talking, so I gave in and let myself slow down a little bit. And much to my dismay, at mile 20, that horrible iPod Shuffle voice came on and said, “Battery low,” which elicited more than a few four-letter words. Probably the worst timing. So I shut it off, saving the final dregs of battery for the end.

Mile 20: 8:02

Mile 21: 8:10

I could feel the pain creeping in, and while it didn’t feel all-consuming yet, I knew it was going to be a long final 5 miles.

“But it’s only 5 more miles! You almost always run further than that on average days.”

Those were the kind of thoughts I kept trying to get in my head, but unfortunately there were other voices shouting a bit louder.

Just before mile 22, the familiar dark feeling from Tacoma last year started the veer its ugly head. I had a hard time telling if it was actually the same type of pain as last year or just the bad memories that got me so unnerved, but either way, I did everything I could to remind myself to be smart. I allowed myself a 5 second walk break to get my bearings, and then pressed on.

Mile 22: 8:24

At this point, my legs were toasted. My feet felt hot, and it didn’t help that the temperature was rising. I stuck to the shady parts of the path as much as I could and dumped water under my hat at the water stations. Most of the fatigue was in my head, which I instinctively knew was from having not slept the night before. I saw my family again at 22, which certainly helped, but I didn’t like the idea of them seeing me in such a bad space.

Apparently though, I hid it well. BF started running with me for a bit and said I looked great, which was nearly impossible for me to believe- but I took it as a sign that my body was doing better than my head.

Mile 23: 8:28

Admittedly, it was comforting to know that I could run up to 10 minute miles and still come in under 3:35. I had already resolved that I would have a huge positive split, and that was okay. As much pain as I was in, it kind of humored me to think, “Oh, this is why the marathon is so hard. This is what the wall feels like, huh? I get it now.”

But, I knew that with such a big goal, a goal that was far below my current PR, this race was going to take a fight. So I fought. The miles felt so incredibly slow. The 8:30 pace I was holding felt like a 7 minute pace, and I could feel every single incline and decline in the road.

Around this point, I spotted Lauren up ahead, who I’d already seen twice earlier cheering like a champ. She started running alongside me and asked how I felt, which I fully admitted to feeling horrible. She gave a lot of words of encouragement, including offering to continue running with me. While I was incapable of expressing it or realizing it at the time, this was a huge save for me. She distracted me and kept me going when all I wanted to do was stop. I took another short walk break, and as slow as they were…the miles kept going.

Mile 24: 8:39

Mile 25: 8:49

It was excruciating at this point. I felt like my head was crushed into tunnel vision, and it took everything I had to keep the BQ goal in sight. Seeing Hayward come into view was helpful, and while I was still battling the ghost of Tacoma Marathon past, I knew I was stronger this time around. Lauren was a game-changer, and I cannot begin to thank her enough for pulling me through those final miles.

She dropped me right before the entrance to Hayward, where I was greeted with a huge Oiselle cheer group of familiar faces which helped get me excited.

Mile 26: 9:03

Coming into Hayward was surreal. It was something that I’d been envisioning for so long it didn’t even feel real. I was in so much pain, but so happy to be done. It’s actually a little hard for me to remember since I was so foggy and tired at the time, but when I heard my name on the loud speaker and saw the 3:32 on my watch, all those dreadful and slow miles melted away.

Photo courtesy of BF.

I’d done it. I held my hand over my heart and raised my hand in the air. Boston, that was for you.

It was so relieving to be done. I was a little off kilter once I crossed the finish line, so a volunteer helped support me a little bit. I got my medal, got my bearings, and headed toward the finisher’s chute. I immediately felt nauseated and steered clear of the food they were offering. I wanted so badly to sit down, actually to lay down, but I knew I needed to keep walking. I have never felt so sick after a race, which was annoying considering all I wanted to do was celebrate, and I knew I needed to find my people.

BF was on the hunt for me, and we spotted each other pretty quickly. Not too long after, I joined up with the rest of my crew, and after a few minutes of my hands on my knees and some deep breathing, I started to feel a bit better and the accomplishment started to register.

The whole crew!

It’s funny how pain can mask other emotions so much. Of course all I wanted to do at the finish line was cry tears of joy and relish the feeling that I’d accomplished my goal, so it’s a little disheartening that hitting the wall so hard took away a bit from that.

However, my wonderful support crew helped draw me back into the light. We visited the foam rollers they had available in a tent (quite convenient), hung out on the turf, and eventually made our way out.

Granddad and me…perhaps my new favorite picture.

After a heavenly shower and a change into flip lops and stretch pants, I started to feel like myself again. My appetite was no where to be found, my legs were completely shot, and my arm was chafed to the point of a scar, but I knew that it was all worth it. There’s something incredible that happens at the end of a marathon. You are stripped of every last defense and ounce of strength inside of you, and yet you still manage to do what your body and brain are both fighting against. It’s supposed to be hard. It’s supposed to hurt. It’s the fight against the pain that makes the marathon so mighty.

And in the end, I don’t care that I had a 4 minute positive split. I don’t care that I can’t walk down stairs today, and I certainly don’t care that I lost so much sleep over this race. I did exactly what I came to Eugene to do, and the reality that I nabbed my BQ is settling in more and more every minute.

And truth be told, something as great and as honorable as running the Boston marathon, especially next year, shouldn’t be easy. It supposed to be earned, to be fought for, and it took a good kick in the butt Sunday for me to truly realize what that honor is all about.

Another new favorite.

I cannot begin to thank everyone enough for your words of support and encouragement. This community is filled with an unbelievable kinship, and on Sunday I was reminded once again of how proud I am to call myself a runner. A big congratulations to everyone who raced this weekend! I hope you all celebrated well and are resting properly.

If you need me, I’ll be with my chocolate and my pillow. Probably wearing my medal.

Thanks Eugene! You proved your legacy ten-fold. And here’s hoping that next year’s spring race takes place in another legendary place, on a different coast 🙂

Yukon Do It Half-Marathon Race Recap

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Happy New Year!

How is everyone? Getting a start on your resolutions? Giving up on your resolutions? Still hungover from NYE?

This is not a post about my own resolutions. Shock, I know. In a very not-like-me move, I actually did make one this year (I almost never do), but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.

I am here to tell you about something else related to New Year’s Eve. So while there was resolution making, drink(s), and midnight fireworks, there was also something extra that made this New Year’s Eve memorable. In fact, it was probably the most memorable NYE to date, because let’s face it…with the exception of pining for a midnight kiss from your crush (which I never got), there isn’t much you can really expect from the night.

But this year, New Year’s Eve doubled as a race day. A perfect race day, in fact.

I call this my “I do this expression in every race photo of me ever taken” face.

I was fairly hush-hush about the Yukon Do It half-marathon. Not because I was especially nervous, but because I didn’t really have a lot of feelings about it.

Going into it, I knew my sparkly sub-1:40 half goal was possible, but I wasn’t necessarily interested in going through a lot of pain for it.

So, my game plan was to start with 7:40s, and if I was feeling good, drop to 7:35s halfway through.

That didn’t exactly happen. In fact, none of what went down during this race was anything I would have expected—for a variety of reasons:

1) The weather. It was bloody cold during this race.

Grown men wore pants and double-layer tops. I wore spandex shorts. However, as I’ve stated before—winter running and I are BFFs. My body enters into a “must warm thyself” panic when it’s cold, which results in faster paces.

2) The course. The elevation map of this course was, well, wrong. It was allegedly an out-and-back with miles 1-4 fairly flat, 5-8 up and then downhill, and 9-13 flat again. No, not true. Details to come.

The way the course was supposed to look…

3) The company. I signed up for this race because a ton of my coworkers were doing it. So, there were about 12 of us…most of whom I’d never met before, and all of whom were relatively fast.

Fun fact: if there is an audience around, I’ll be ready to perform. It’s the Glee-kid in me. Or maybe just the narcissistic competitive brat in me. Whatever. Point is, it was an opportunity to hang with the big dawgs…the big dawgs in this case being stranger men from work.

A few of us from the group! In case you couldn’t spot the only female in the photo, I’m on the top right.

So now that I’ve given way too much information before writing the actual report, let’s get down to it:

With only 300 or so runners doing the half, I was able to line up relatively close to the start line. The gun went off, and I mentally threatened myself to not go out too fast. Just warm up. Just get your pace. So after a half mile of “leisurely” getting started, I checked the Garmin: 7:15.

Fail.

I seriously felt like I was running an 8:30, I think in part to the throngs of fast dudes around me whose effortlessness masked my own speed, and also because of the cold. My feet were numb for the first 1.5 miles, and I think my body was doing everything possible to just thaw my blood.

I chilled out though, decided the first mile could be fast as long as I got my sh*t together for the rest of it.

No, still didn’t happen. But I didn’t panic. I genuinely felt really good, and I figured as long as I closely monitored how I felt and paid attention to my breathing, I could keep up the speed. Plus, I knew the hill coming up would slow me down and I could save some time for those miles.

There weren’t too many people around me. The leader (who I actually knew and who is ridiculously badass- 1:10 finish, nbd) was way out in front, then there was a decent size pack behind him, then followed myself and some other randoms.

This was the first time I legitimately played leap-frog with other runners the entire race. There were three other females that I kept alternating spots with, which was a combination of helpful, intimidating, and fun. We all knew it was happening, of course we didn’t say anything, but it was an amusing silent competition.

One of those ladies, by the way, was wearing a Boston finisher shirt.

Don’t you think your sweet shirt will scare me away…

After the first 4.5 miles or so, I expected the promised “ gradual ascent” to start. Alas…we would all learn that the course profile was quite incorrect and misleading.

The flat sections were spot on, and the first four and the last four miles were beautiful and scenic along the waterfront. The middle 5 though? Basically the course traversed up and down the same hills about 6 different times. And these weren’t rollers…they were some pretty significant inclines, with consequentially steep declines. So those miles were filled with grunting (and getting passed) up those hills, and then bombing (and passing others) on the way down.

This is what my Garmin elevation data showed.

My paces over these miles were all over the place. I’d be logging an 8:30 trudging up a hill, and then it would quickly drop to 7:30 on the downhill. These miles were beautiful, however, as they wove through a super-green forest—which slightly made up for the unexpected course switcheroo.

The nice thing about an out-and-back, though, is that you know what to expect for the second half. I was starting to feel not-so-awesome around mile 7. The hills were getting to me, and I was ready to head back to the flat lands.

I know this is really not-such-a-big deal in retrospect, and I don’t want to complain, but I thought a more accurate elevation chart would have been helpful beforehand.

Once back on the flatter parts, I felt a second wind coming, and I regained a consistent pace. I gained a bit on a few of the females that were ahead of me during the first part of the race, and I let my racing instinct take over as I passed them.

According to this batch of race photos, I close my eyes a lot while racing. Sleepy? Defense mechanism? Also #LEGS. Gross.

Around mile 9, I spotted a coworker who was holding a perfectly steady-yet-fast pace, and I decided to use him as a pacer. I stayed right behind him for a while, which was probably annoying, but he didn’t seem to mind (thanks David!).

When I came up beside him with 2 or so miles to go, and apologized for my drafting, he exclaimed that I was on track for a 1:38. Excited by this announcement, and impressed with his mental math, it was just the spark I needed to drop to a sub 7:20 pace. I held with him for a while longer, but after seeing two girls fading ahead of me, I knew I needed to do a little bit of chick-ing.

And seriously…one of them was wearing zebra-print spandex. I realize most of you would love owning something like that, but personally I refused to be beat by someone wearing those.

Zebra girl, be gone.

By that point, the finish line was in sight. There is nothing more encouraging than seeing the end—and the promise of being finished. A glance at my watch and I knew I was not only looking at a sub-1:40, but a 1:38:xx. Cue: giddy excitement.

And just like that, I crossed the finish line, heard my name called over the speaker, and knew I’d cinched the coveted sub 1:40 half that I’d been wanting with a 1:38:22 PR finish time.

“Pretty psyched” would be good words to describe the feeling immediately following, although I was mostly focused on how quickly the heat I’d built during the race was quickly escaping my body. At the finish line, I learned that two co-workers had claimed 2nd and 3rd overall, with others in the top 15 as well!

I myself ended up as 4th overall female and 2nd in my age group. And yes, ahead of Boston lady…who congratulated me after as we’d been racing each other for nearly 10 miles.

Neat!

After changing into warmer, dryer clothes and collecting ribbons (!), we made a pit stop for a celebratory brew before packing it in and calling it a year.

Running this race was wonderful, and I’m thrilled to have closed with a time I feel like I can hang my hat on for a while. Doing it on the very last day of 2012 was awesome as well—it felt both like a grand finale and a prelude of the year to come.

I don’t have a lot of hindsight about this race…it was cold, beautiful, and a lot of fun. However, in retrospect, I am particularly focused on the fact that while I did run hard and achieved my goal, it actually wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated. Which makes the promise of what’s the come in 2013 all the more intriguing.

Happy New Year!

Seattle Half-Marathon Race Recap

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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?

Mustache Dache 5k Race Recap

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In the world of running races, 5ks are not really my jam. Honestly, I don’t love shelling out money for a race that’s only going to last around 20 minutes—and a race that is going to be super hard the whole time. Call it stingy, call it me being a baby…either way, I’m just not a huge 5k person.

But, pair together a mustache-themed race and a whole bunch of Seattle bloggers, and I say game on. Which is why I spent Saturday morning clad in a stick on mustache (for a solid 5 minutes) with burning lungs.

But I’m getting ahead of myself…let’s recap a bit shall we?

The set up for this race was nothing short of hilarious. The organizers did a fantastic job with their mustache revelry and shameless promotion…which lead to a really impressive turnout for the race as well as some pretty amusing attire.

Do you know how difficult it is to smile while wearing a press on mustache? REALLY hard. Photo courtesy of Sarah.

It was a fun run for most everyone there, and while I intended to run hard, I didn’t have much of a methodology in mind. I had decided to use this as my “speedwork” for the week, so thinking of it as a standard workout helped my focus a bit. Going into it, I knew running anything below what I’d run during my last 5k (my PR) would be pretty difficult, and so instead of putting too much pressure on myself, my strategy was this: Go out fast, and try to hold on.

And fortunately for 5ks, that method kind of actually works. While half-marathons and marathons always preach the negative-splitting technique, I’m realizing with 5ks it’s actually acceptable to run completely haphazardly with a balls-to-the-walls approach.

I kind of like this, but I also kind of hate it.

Because it took about .75 miles into this race for me to remember just how hard 5ks can be. My balls were at the walls, if you will, and they didn’t love it.

When I took off, I was looking at a 6:30 pace on my watch. Which for me is fast. Probably too fast, but again—in a 5k, there are some shades of grey. Not 50 shades, but a couple.

Anyway, my lungs started hurting pretty instantly. My stomach, which I had probably-not-so-intelligently decided to fill with a green smoothie an hour before the race, was also feeling a little uneasy. But, as I kept telling myself, this was about speed. I knew I had the endurance, and it was really about hanging on for dear life.

So I kept hanging, watching my Garmin flash paces that I never normally see—and simultaneously my lungs argue in retort. I kept having visions of myself hurling up green liquid on the side of the course and racers thinking, “God it’s just a 5k, why are you so stupid and running faster than you actually can?” but alas…I kept pushing. Interestingly, my legs were never a problem in this race. They felt great the whole time actually, it was much more an issue of my breathing and my stomach.

The great thing about the pain of a 5k, though, is that it goes by quickly. And lucky for us, this course was pretty easy-peasy. Very flat, fairly scenic (for such a short distance), and reasonably dynamic. A little pavement, a little dirt, etc.

So I pressed on…forcing my pace to cling tightly to the low 7s.

With a 300 meter-ish stretch with the finish line in sight, I was starting to rekindle my competitive spirit. I knew I would be finishing below my previous 21:43 time, but then I started to flirt with “Hmm, just how far under?” So I bolted, garnering all traces of oxygen from my raspy lungs and forcing my turnover to pick up. It helped that “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” was playing, also. Thanks Kelly.

Pain, lots of pain.

Bada boom, bada bang, and the run was over. Garmin stops, keel over, somehow managed my foot on a stool for my chip to be removed, hands over head, etc.

But also a smile, a big smile.

A 21:04 unofficial time was looking back on my watch face. A nearly 40 second 5k PR.

And oh man, did I feel it. It took me a good 10 minutes before my lungs stopped burning, and even later in the day I felt a little wheeze in my breathing. Speed work I wanted, speed work I got.

Splits (because I finally understand the whole “upload your Garmin stats after you run” thing):

{disclaimer: my Garmin clocked the distance I little shorter than 3.1 km, but since this was an “official” races and I’m certain they did their measurements, I’ll trust them over my little 110.}

I got to then cheer in my fellow Seattle bloggers which was so much fun. They are all smarter than me and decided to enjoy running the race as opposed to making their insides bleed. I guess I can’t help it, or maybe I’m just that psychotic.

After a few photo ops and gathering of all the free food (wonderful job with this Mustache Dache, btw), a few of us trekked over to brunch. I had it in my head that just brunch with these ladies would have sufficed on that rainy Saturday morning, but I suppose a 5k PR is nice too.

As for the rest of Saturday…I scuttled off from brunch to get my hair colored (insert rounds of applause and gasps of shock here), and upon leaving the salon proceeded to rebraid my hair, tuck it under a baseball cap, and head out in the same 5ks clothes for some more rainy running.

Did I mention I’m really bad at being a girl?

But don’t worry, my hair dresser is also a runner, so she didn’t mind the sweaty apparel.

But back to the race recap. What did I learn from this?

Well, my immediate reaction was that I don’t want to do a 5k for a very very long time, at least one that I’m actually racing. But with a new PR that’s just seconds off of a sub-21 time, I’m sure you can guess that I have a new goal in mind.

But that can wait.

Here are the official results:

And as I would discover thanks to Nicole’s notification:

Made the top 10! That was certainly surprising. And with a race of over 1,000 females…that felt kind of cool 🙂

So there you have it. A really fun morning with lots of blog friends with a 5k PR to top it off—and a finale of a big plate of brunch food. My kind of Saturday.

Seattle bloggers!

So good to see everyone, and so nice to meet those of you I hadn’t met IRL yet!

Happy ~~Monday~~ Wednesday because it’s a short week!

Did you race this weekend? Brunch this weekend? Ruin your newly-minted salon hair this weekend?