Tag Archives: running

Chicago Marathon Race Recap

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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?

My Brain on Marathon

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These past few days there have been two things going through my head:

Holy shit, I’m running a marathon this weekend.

And

Holy shit, I need to blog about all my feelings.

Okay…there have been 5,000 other thoughts going on as well, but stick with me.

Somehow, I couldn’t seem to get these two very complimentary thoughts to mesh together in beautiful, therapeutic symmetry.

I mean come on—don’t all running bloggers blog 2x per day, every day, during the last two weeks of taper before a marathon?

We have so many nerves, ideas, and circumstances floating through our heads…and all we want to do is talk to other runners about them all.

So why haven’t I been spilling my guts out incessantly and instead just been flitting over the surface in regard to my upcoming 26.2 attempt?

Honestly, I don’t know.

I am thinking about the race nonstop. I already have pre-race butterflies in my stomach. I am in a constant back-and-forth battle between being excited and optimistic and being so nervous I want to hide under my desk.

Essentially, there are so many thoughts going through my little taper-brain that I’ve had a hard time coming up with anything coherent or sensible to write about. I know, I know…a lot of my blog posts are of the word-vomit variety already. However, when it’s been coming time to put my fingers to the keyboard to describe how I’m feeling about this race, my brain spirals into chaos—and I can barely sit still—let alone write a post.

With that said, I’m not here to offer up any constructive or solid “feelings” or “plans” or whatever it is you’re supposed to have the week before a marathon. I am here, however, to attempt to let loose some steam—and to hopefully give a little insight into how you truly never know what to expect in so very much of life.

It’s hard for me to differentiate my nerves between regular, expected pre-marathon jitters, and legitimate concerns about my current condition. Sometimes, I’m imagining it as just any other marathon—other times, I’m thinking of it as a death march on out-of-shape legs and a floppy, swollen ankle. I’m trying to land somewhere in the middle of these two outlooks—balancing the ordinary nervousness with the warranted exceptional circumstance I’ll be running the race in.

Of course, marathon brain is far from balanced and sensible, so despite my best efforts so just chill and play with the cards I’ve been dealt…it’s been a process to actually internalize that mindset.

Recently, it’s been going more like this:

“I’m going to have the best time! I might have some pain later on, but as long as I go easy, soak in the sights, and let the race adrenaline work its magic..I’ll be fine! I love running! I love marathons! This will be great!”

…two minutes later:

“I’m going to die. I’m going to be exhausted after one mile, my legs are going to cramp, and even if I make it pretty far, I’m going to have to bail and get off the course. Then I’m going to cry. Even if I make it, I’m going to be walking, puking, and/or crying until the finish line.”

Once again, I’m trying to rationalize that I’ll probably land somewhere in the middle.

I’m also trying to remind myself about just how mental running is. Because in my opinion, and in the opinions of many, many great runners out there who are far more qualified to make claims than me, running is primarily mental. Certainly, it takes endurance and strength to run a marathon—no doubt about it. But ultimately, the thing that keeps our feet moving and our will to finish alive is our attitude.

Now, I learned back in T-town that I definitely have a good deal of mental strength. This time around, I’m going to try and channel that mental strength into being present in the moment and savouring the fact that I am able to run a marathon. Let me also just clarify that while what happened in Tacoma is high on my fear list, I no longer want to rehash that race—and I now know that there is a difference between pushing it and pushing it too far.

With that said, I will not be trying to BQ, PR, or anything of that sort during this race. While those types of goals are often high on my list and they encourage me to keep moving, they are also the kind of goals that could disable me from finishing. Due to my current circumstance with my ankle and my training glitches, the only goals I have for this race are to a) finish and b) negative split. I don’t want to negative split to ensure a particular time; I just know that I am going to need reserved energy for the second half. My pacing intentions will be solely for the purpose of staying consistent and staying safe.

I am planning to run by feel, which is a good theme for how I’ve handled these past few weeks of “training.” All of my decisions about when to run, when to rest, and if I was going to do the race haven’t been based on a pre-determined schedule, but solely on how I feel. That’s how I’m planning to run this race. I have paces in mind that I know I will be able to hold for a long time, and although they are many, many seconds slower than I originally planned on running this race—they are what will help get me to the finish line.

So for right now, I trying to channel my energy into focusing on a few things.

The first is positive self talk. I am always such a huge proponent of mantras and self confidence when it comes to encouraging other people along, but I’m not so good at practicing what I preach. I do believe that positive thinking and visualization can make a world of difference in performance—and so excuse me while I act super cocky and conceited for the next 72 hours.

The second thing I’m trying to focus on is what my intention was behind doing this race in the first place. When I first registered, I knew I wanted to take this race less seriously than I had for many before. Marathon training had become less fun and too stressful, and this time around I wanted to enjoy the running for what it was instead of focus solely on numbers. Admittedly, I slipped away from this a bit when I started seeing my times get faster, but now that I’m kind of forced to run the race easier than planned—my original intention has come back into focus.

In addition to my goal of having fun with training for this race, I also wanted to focus on doing something more than just my own, petty “look at me and how much I run” approach. I chose to fund-raise and run on behalf of Girls on the Run because they are an organization that I believe advocates all the best things about running. Girls on the Run gets down to the grass roots of the pure joy, confidence, and enthusiasm that running can instill, and this was a message I wanted to both advocate to others and internalize for myself.

No matter what happens—I’ve raised a lot of money and promoted a group whose cause resonates with so many of the reasons I love to run. And for that, I’m proud and humbled to run on behalf of them.

I suppose there are actually a lot of advantages to running a marathon that isn’t a goal race. And despite my uber-competitive mind trying with all its might to both “be a hero” and finish with an impressive time—for now, she’s going to need to shut up. This is a really good opportunity for me to tune into the part of running that isn’t competitive—the part that isn’t tangible, or “qualifying,” or up to some standard.

I’m going to run because I love it, and no matter what happens—Sunday is just one more day I get to run. In the second biggest marathon in the world— no less. If nothing else, I want to finish how ever many miles I run knowing that I ran smart and I ran happy. Anything else (finishing, a decent time, etc.) will just be gravy.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening to me spill my very-full brain. These are the times I’m so happy I have a blog, both as a way for me to get out my thoughts and a way to communicate with runners who’ve experienced all the same things. Writing everything down has always helped relax me—and I’m already feeling more excited for Sunday.

I’ll have a post tomorrow with a few more specifics as to strategy, logistics, etc. I’ll also post a link to how you can follow me during the race! We’re getting closer and closer…and my window of complex carb consumption/hydrating/foam rolling is here.

Bring it on, baby.

Decision Time

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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.

 

Chicago Marathon Training Week #11 + Weekend

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So, there wasn’t much running involved in my workouts last week…you already knew that. I didn’t post my training last week though out of bitter resentment, so here’s a look at how all the non-running training went:

M: 30 min stair stepper, 60 min swim

T: 2 hour spin class

W: 60 min stair stepper + BodyPump

T: 90 min swim

F: 60 min stair stepper + BodyPump

S: 2 hour swim! 5,000 meters

S: 20 min stair stepper + 6 m run!

Total: 6 miles running

Yea, so that number ^^ is very minuscule compared to where I should have been. But, considering my two week injury hiatus from running, I will gladly take any miles over none. And in spite of not being able to run, I was happy with how I managed to keep activity levels high. I am still in love with my BodyPump class, particularly the instructor, and I think it’s been doing really good things for both my strength and coordination.

In other news, after a beautiful rest day yesterday, I was able to run 8.4 miles today! It wasn’t very pretty, and it wasn’t very easy, but hot damn it happened. And guess what? My ankle felt better than it did during Sunday’s first run back! It was still a little cranky, but it seems that this persnickety tendonitis beast may be on its way out the door. It’s really encouraging that my ankle seems to be getting better while still running on it…and it’s making me feel inches closer to making the decision to race. Don’t worry, I’m still going to take it easy and play the super-taper game…but in the mean time it feels great to pound some pavement again.

On my run this morning, I thought a lot about what would happen if I do decide to race. Because when I don’t wear headphones, my entire life—all past, present, and future aspects of it—seems to engulf my brain.

I felt a whole number of things this morning, but mainly encouraged and anxious. I can feel the possibility of doing the Chicago Marathon getting higher, but simultaneously I’m getting scared for just what finishing, (read:surviving), the race will entail.

I need to come to terms with that fact that not only will I be slower than normal and will potentially walk some of the race—there is a good chance I will be in pain during a good amount of it. Pain on top of normal, typical marathon pains. It’s certainly not an ideal scenario—and it’s one that will require perhaps more mental preparation than any other race, should the opportunity come.

Time will tell people. However, I did hear last night that a friend in Chicago is willing to host BF and I for race eve…..and he lives ONE MILE from the start line. We were originally planning on staying out at the airport…a good half hour away. Universe coming together? We’ll see.

In other news, here’s a look at what was a fan-effing-tastic weekend. The weather in Seattle was perfection, and somehow BF and I managed to be way more social this weekend than we have been the entire year.

Spoiler: There was a lot of beer.

Mariner’s Game!

Double dating and baseball night—the Ms even decided to win!

Ferry ride post-game. DON’T WORRY I REPAINTED MY TOES FINALLY. I told you it was a productive weekend.

Seattle skyline via water transportation. Love.

The following morning…

What’s the best thing to come home to after a 2 hour swim? Your boyfriend making pancakes for you. You can’t really tell…but the one underneath is pink. That’s love.

One invite from another couple later…and we were at the Fremont Oktoberfest party ready to cash in our ten tasting tokens. (I only made it to 7…)

Oktoberfest! BF…that mug is just the perfect size for you…you dainty man you.

This was my last beer, I think…and one of 4 attempts at this photo. Low tolerance + high percentage alcohol beer= drunk Robyn.

Right now…I love fall. We are in the perfect phase where it’s not raining, it’s not too cold, and it’s not too hot. The leaves are crunchy and the air promises Halloween and cooler temps shortly. And by Halloween, I mean “I’m probably going to buy candy this weekend.” Loving it. In fact, I might break my pumpkin spice latte rule and not wait until October. CRAZY TALK…I rage.

I hope your weeks have started off splendidly!

 

What would you do?

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What a difference a week can make.

Last Saturday, I spent the morning running 1/4 mile, failing, and then crying about it while simultaneously trying to swim. Not a pretty picture.

Fast forward to yesterday. After having not one but two spin classes cancelled on me, and after plodding up and down on the stair-stepper for a while…I decided to see how my ankle would hold up on a run.

I was nervous, I had ridiculously low expectations, and I had to mentally prepare myself for the fact that it may be a huge fail.

So after my morning gym session, I went home, changed shoes, grabbed a handful of Cheerios, and drove down to my beloved Alki beach trail. Cautiously and hesitantly—off I went.

The way my “running” has been going for the past two weeks has been like this—a few steps of normalcy, a twinge of pain on both sides of my ankle, followed by my ankle swelling so much I have no range of motion.

But yesterday? Oh, dear sweet yesterday…I was able to run. I’m not saying it was without pain, and I’m not saying it was flawless, but it happened and I finished with a stupid smile on my face and heightened hope for the possibility of the Chicago Marathon actually happening. I finished with a total of 6 miles, and while my ankle definitely felt it—a session of ice and an anti-inflammatories afterwards, I was good to go.

So encouraging…and you better believe I rode out my 6-mile-runner’s-high all day long.

So what now? Admittedly, I still am not 100% sure what to do about Chicago. My doctor gave me the go-ahead to try, and as he said, “The worst thing that can happen is that you won’t finish.” He said that doing the race would more than likely not make my ankle any worse—which I took with a grain of salt, but it was encouraging.

It’s really hard to figure out what to do from this point in terms of taper/testing my running/deciding if I should do the race. I want to continue to rest my ankle as much as I can, of course, but I also need to be sure that going to Chicago is going to be worth it. I certainly don’t want to DNF—but I would also like to know that if it happens, it would be around mile 18 as opposed to mile 7, you know?

So I need some advice…in terms of balancing taper and testing my ability to run…what would you do? My plan is to make the final call next Sunday, so I think I’ll go with my originally scheduled 12 easy miles on Saturday. If I feel like I can do that (and could keep going) I *think* I’ll go for it. 

Ahh this is such a weird/different approach to tapering. I am someone who operates with the mindset of, “You never know until you try,” but I also don’t want to fly all the way to Chicago to run less than half of the race.

We’ll see…but in the meantime, I would love any input you have on the matter!

Hope everyone had a great weekend!

 

6 Reasons I’m Psyched for Winter Running

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I generally consider myself more of a sun-and-warmth person as opposed to a cold-and-snowy person. I really don’t dislike any seasons, in fact I like little things about them all, but there’s something that’s just so convenient about summer. It’s easier to dress for (sun dresses=one outfit wonder!), it’s easier to plan for, and it’s LIGHTER! I love the light, and the darkness of winter really starts to get to me after a while.

But, the one thing I love about the winter—besides Christmas and pea coats, of course—is THE RUNNING!

I adore running when it’s cold out, and I would choose running with tights and an ear warmer over running in a tank and spandos any day. I know there are a lot of differing opinions on this, and it’s not that I dislike running when it’s warm, there’s just something so satisfying about breaking the winter blues with some miles.

When I played soccer when I was younger, I remember preferring the games that were in the cold. Although I had to wear a turtleneck underneath my jersey and the sidelines were freezing, I can distinctly remember feeling faster and more agile when playing in the cold. This feeling is the same way I feel today about running in the cold—clearly something that never left!

Now, I know this isn’t science…according to the running scientists we run faster and more efficiently in cooler temperatures than warmer. And…duh. Keeping our internal temperature cooler helps elongate our exertion and not feel so drained from sweating (as much).

I definitely notice these effects of running when it’s cooler—but the reasons I love winter running have more to do with the overall package itself, as opposed to the physiology behind it.

With that, I give you…6 reasons why I’m PSYCHED for winter running.

1) Thumb holes. Just like nearly every other runner who doesn’t live in So.Cal or Florida…I’m a big fan of the thumb hole shirt revolution.

Just that little feature seems to add a whole new dimension of warmth—and I often can get away without gloves when I wear a thumbhole shirt. My favorite part, though, is actually when I can remove my thumbs from the loops and roll up the sleeves a bit. This part of a run always indicates that I’ve warmed up enough and gotten into a steady-enough rhythm. I love realizing that, and I love having a tangible indicator.

2) Speed. I notice a very distinct difference in my speed once the temperatures drop.

After I ran the Portland Marathon last year, took a few recovery weeks, and got back on the road again, I started realizing that my splits were dropping. I thought this might be a result of recovering and gaining strength from the marathon, but I’m pretty certain it had more to do with the fact that my training had all been done in the late summer, and I was now running in chillier November. Personally, I know I’m a faster runner when it’s a bit cooler—and I’m planning on focusing heavily on speed during the winter months (more on that in another post!).

3) Showers. I adore the feeling of a shower after a good run. In fact, I actually kind of dislike regular showers, because they aren’t as deliciously satisfying as those done post-run (don’t worry…I still take them…sometimes).

The best kind of showers, though, are the ones after a long, cold, run. I love feeling like I’m thawing out after being in the wind and the cold—it’s such a wonderful dichotomy of having experienced the chilly air and then plunging into a warm shower. I love it—this is perhaps one of my favorite things about running, besides the actually action itself 🙂

4) The quiet. This may all be in my head, but I always feel like winter mornings are so much more silent than the summer. You know?

Less birds chirping, less people around. Not that I dislike those things (obviously I like birds) but I l-o-v-e running when it feels completely quiet. No headphones, no traffic, no people. Just feet and breath (the cold air helps emphasize the breath part of this as well). I get the most jazzed and excited about a run when I walk out the door and I can’t hear a thing—quite contrary to a pump up song or war cry—I prefer the silence, which promises a peaceful, cathartic run with just my legs and my thoughts.

5) The oatmeal. You thought I was going to get all mystical for a minute there, didn’t you?

Much like the point about the hot showers—I LOVE a bowl of hot oatmeal after I run. Some people love waffles, some love mimosas, but I myself love nothing more than a huge bowl of oatmeal post-run, complete with all my staple fixings. However, when it’s warm out—hot food is the last thing I want, and for the past few months I’ve needed to reach for a less-than-thrilling smoothie or yogurt. Cold weather=more oatmeal=happy Robyn.

6) The laziness. Let’s get honest…the only thing most of us want to do after a long weekend run is lay on the couch all day.

The only movement we want to make is between the refrigerator and our cozy setup in front of the TV. Also, football season is during the winter—and I can’t speak for everyone on this—but sometimes I really just like hunkering down on a Sunday with BF to yell at the TV. The winter months cater to this type of behavior…whereas summer I don’t want to miss a minute of sunshine. So although typically I love to be out and about doing as much as possible, after a long run, give me my compression socks and my Snuggie. Actually…it’s not my Snuggie…you can guess who I steal it from, though.

So there you have it! A look at the main reasons I can’t wait to run this winter. I’m guessing it’s a little transparent that I’m also associating the winter with a healthy ankle…which I’ll admit, is helping the argument. But, overall, injury or no injury…I love winter running, and I can’t wait to break out my ear warmer and tights soon!

Now…which do you prefer, winter or summer running? 

Diagnosis and “Getting It”

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The best news of all: my ankle is not falling off.

And, according to my X-Rays and my highly optimistic Ortho-doc, I have no signs of stress fracture, and my bone structure is “ideal.” Essentially, this was equivalent to hearing, “Robyn, you have perfect hair, teeth, and generally perfect everything in life.”

Good bones=happy runner.

To bring you up to speed, after many days in a row of running, peak marathon training mileage, and a very unhappy 20-miler-turned-17-miler, my ankle was in a lot of pain for no obvious reason. I was limping, I went to Urgent Care (fail), and I panicked about how I could actually pull off a marathon in a month.

Obviously, I wanted to call in a pro ASAP.

The diagnosis I received at my 9 am appointment yesterday morning went something like this:

“Suck it up. Load up on Aleve. Keep running. You’re a huge wimp and don’t understand that running is painful sometimes. Why are you here?”

Okay, it was *actually* closer to this (although the above is in essence what I heard):

“I think you’ll be fine. Get back out there, keep up the pain killers, heavy on the icing, and tell me if it gets worse.”

If you’re thinking, “Wow Robyn, that’s pretty much what every runner would want to hear in your scenario…so did you jump up and down in excitement and make out with the dude while lacing up your Brooks?”

No kissing or lacing up, but yes—you’re right. This is an ideal diagnosis. Particularly for someone like me, who would be grumpy with even the mention of “toning it down” or “taking it easy.”

However, while I am relieved—I’m also going to be a little more careful than Dr. “All Runners Love Me” told me to be.

You see, the reason I went to the doctor was to determine what this pain is not as opposed to what it is. Hopefully, the diagnosis was right and this isn’t something serious (i.e. stress fracture, etc.) BUT, that doesn’t mean that it’s not something to take care of.

With every little ache and pain, we runners spend so much time agonizing over, “What is this?” “When will it go away?” “Can I run through it?” I’m a HUGE culprit of doing this (perhaps THE culprit), no thanks to the magical powers of the interwebs, but here’s the fact of the matter:

If something hurts, you shouldn’t run on it.

I realize my circumstances are a bit different, considering I have 26.2 miles of running to do on October 7, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to try and be bigger than the pain. I’m fortunate enough to have done enough training that waiting out this issue a little while longer (yes, longer than even the “professional” said to do) won’t do much damage. In fact, continuing to run on my questionable ankle would probably undo the strides I’ve made so far in my training.

So I’m sitting it out for a little while longer. I’m definitely not going to pretend that I’m completely calm and collected about this, or that not running is anything but easy.

I’m back-and-forth between being sensible and being irrational. But, I’ve been here before—and I know that the truest test of an athlete’s will and determination are the times that set them back. So yesterday, when I was at work going back and forth as to what I would do for my workout later on, I stopped myself right in my tracks.

And here’s what I asked myself: Is delaying the healing process, which will ultimately get me to the start line in Chicago, for a random Tuesday sweat session worth it?

Absolutely not.

So, I defied my habitual inclination of working out my stress away, and here I am today—no less in shape, in tact, nor capable of living. I am, however, with a more rested and better-feeling ankle.

{See Mommy, I’m growing up.}

I’m realizing that the way we handle injury corresponds directly to the reasons we run in the first place.

The fact of the matter is this: I don’t run to hide my feelings. I don’t run to justify the things I like to eat. I don’t run to prove anything to anyone.

I run because it’s what I love to do more than anything else, and sometimes that love needs to be shown in the bad times and not just the good.

Run love is not just about logging miles, clocking lower times, and registering for races. Run love is also about give and take. We take a lot from this sport—the endorphins, the pride, the toned legs, and the runner’s highs. But how much do we give to it? We give our early mornings and cash in shoe replacment…but I’m realizing that giving back to this sport should be about respecting it—and our bodies—more than anything else.

Running is tough, running is hard, and running wears us down. In order to give to running as much as we get from it—sometimes we need to back off. We don’t prove anything by running through pain or by exercising when we know we should be resting. All those things do is show that we’d rather let this sport abuse us rather than build us up.

If you hadn’t guessed, the “we” pronoun I’ve been using is a lot of me talking to myself. You, dear reader, just got to come along for the ride.

So what is this very long-winded explanation of my injury trying to say? Well, I think for the first time—I’m getting it. I’m getting the give-and-take of running, I’m getting the “rest” thing, and I’m getting that the truest test of myself as a runner comes from how I handle the lower points.

So I’m taking it easy, I’m hoping for the best, and I’m thankful that I’ve *mostly* been able to learn something from my former habits that resulted in mistakes.

Chicago Marathon Training Week #9

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Hello.

Here’s last week for you…let’s see if you can spot where the big scary hiccup occurred:

M: 9 m run slow

T: 10.2 m run ~8:15 avg. pace

W: 7 m run, no watch + lifting

T: 10.4 m run, 8:20 avg. pace

F: REST

S: 17 m run

S: Yoga

Total: 53.6 miles

Don’t see the hiccup? Well, allow me to backtrack to Thursday, where I said I had a “20 mile long run” on tap for the weekend.

That 17 miler up there? That right there was the first time I have ever cut a run short—and no, not because of fatigue, boredom, or a time crunch.

My would-be 20 mile run turned into 17 because I was in too much pain to finish it. That not-so-significant shin split I mentioned last week turned into a very-significant-holy-shit-hurts pain in my entire left ankle/foot pretty much all at once during my run on Saturday morning. I tried to tough it out, but after a few miles of stopping to alleviate the pain every mile—I knew it was best to cut it off. Thankfully a nice lady with a puppy let me use her phone when I asked (I choose the strangers I approach based on their pets, btw). She was probably a bit frightened by the sweaty, salty, and nearly-in-tears girl hobbling down the side walk—but she complied. Bless her.

As soon as BF picked me up, I lost it. I don’t really need to explain to you all the frustrations I was/am feeling about this. I was in Urgent Care yesterday morning after spending Saturday unable to walk, and I have an appointment with an orthopedic doctor tomorrow morning.

Nothing like prompt medical attention.

I’m trying to not jump to worst case conclusions right now (although I spent a lot of time already doing that). Many thanks to my best friend Anna, BF, and Nicole for calming me down a bit. BF has been a superstar through this also (I think he more than anyone knows how Robyn with Injury goes), and following Saturday’s breakdown he immediately helped remedy my sobbing by making me pancakes, attending to my every ice, Aleve, and compression needs, and accepted his tear-and-sweat stained girlfriend for who she was.

Now that the storm has passed, I’m going to let the pros decide how I should handle this situation.

Luckily, since whatever-this-is happened, my ankle has consistently felt better fairly, and it seems that the more I walk—the better it feels (indicative that it’s probably not a bone thing). But like I said.. I’ll be leaving my fate up to science and X-Rays and stuff.

So how am I feeling right now? Admittedly, hopeful—since it is feeling better and seems to continue to feel better. But, the speed in which this thing came on really scares me, and I’m really going to have a tough time swallowing a diagnosis that not only eliminates Chicago—but eliminates my Fall 2012 running career.

I’m feeling a lot of things right now— frustrated (3 injuries in 6 months—AWESOME), sad, pissed, pessimistic, optimistic, relieved, etc.

I’ll explain it all in another post—because I’m doing my best to not jump to conclusions (no thanks to Dr. Google) and allow no news to be good news. At least until tomorrow morning.

Will fill you all in soon.

Cross your fingers, wish upon a star, and break some wishbones (yikes, no pun intended) for me that this isn’t the worst. I’ve really been very careful in terms of training, resting, and mileage—and I’m more than a little bothered right now with where my bff running has landed me.

3 Scared Things and Training Updates

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There were three things scared during yesterday’s run…

1) An innocent bystander

This was weird…because due to my incessant huffing and puffing and plodding of my feet, people normally have no problem knowing that I’m coming up behind them. The lady I scared must have been stoned distracted though, because as I slinked by she jumped a little screaming, “You scared the hell out of me!” It was friendly in nature though, and I smiled and apologized while wondering if she was wearing earplugs.

2) A black cat

I saw a little kitty up ahead of me as I was cruising downhill, and naturally I thought—oh, cats have superb senses and often freak out over insignificant sounds, surely this guy knows I’m coming.

Wrong again.

Just as I got right behind the kitty, he turned around in a panic—hissing and obviously very startled. He went into full on defense mode. I don’t know which was worse…his startled response or my yelp of fear. Flashes of a cat attack swept through my brain, and I made sure to traverse far around him while keeping an eye over my shoulder.

If I start having bad luck, I’m gonna know that the black cat curse thing is true.

3) Myself

After detailing bitching about how much I hate the afternoons and how working out in the afternoon is not for me, once again I found myself lacing up post-work. When I woke up yesterday morning, I decided that 2 extra hours of sleep was needed. The lull in the afternoon became inferior to some extra zzzs, and although I wasn’t jazzed about the change of plan, I was happy for some more sleep.

I actually felt better during yesterday’s afternoon run than last week’s , but my calves never really loosened up. I don’t know if it’s from sitting all day or what, but when I run in the afternoon my legs are always slower to warm than in the AM.

#teammorningrunner

A brief “mid” week update on Chicago training…

Today marks 5 days in a row of running for me. I know some of you are very used to this routine, but for me—I actually don’t know if it’s happened before. I try to fit in cross-training as much as possible simply because I feel like it wards off injury, but with the mileage I’m trying to get in these next two weeks—spin and swim just aren’t going to happen.

I’ve already logged 36 miles since Monday—which, for me, is a ton. Today’s 10 miler, quite frankly, kind of sucked. I didn’t wear a watch (thankfully) but I’m fairly certain that my speed was deteriorating the entire time. This run was what you would call “junk miles”: miles done simply to add onto overall weekly mileage, without much agenda for speed, tempo, etc. I was glad I did it, but man—this sport can take a toll.

Luckily, I’ve got a sports massage scheduled for tonight—which is ideal timing with my legs being extra tired and me having a rest day tomorrow. Another 20 miler is on tap for the weekend, and although I’m predicting some unhappiness during the actual massage—ultimately I’m hoping it helps me work through my stiffness.

As for overall physical status, I’m doing pretty good. I’m definitely feeling the wear and tear of peak week training—but my legs feel pretty healthy relatively speaking. I’ve got a nagging tendonitis/shin splint thing in my left ankle, but otherwise no real issues of concern. Vitamin I(buprofen) and ice, you guys are the best.

I feel a bit like I’m walking on eggshells because I know high mileage and injury susceptibility go hand-in-hand, but so far—so good. If I can survive this weekend, and if I can survive final peak week next week, I’m going to be feeling pretty great going into taper time for Chicago.

 

Those are my updates for today, and now I want to know from you…

Do you call out to people when you’re passing them from behind?

How many days in a row do you normally run?

What’s your highest weekly mileage?

Have you ever had a sports massage?

Disneyland Half-Marathon Race Report

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Chances were that I was going to have a fan-flipping-tastic time at the Disneyland Half-Marathon. I wrote all about how obnoxiously tickled I was to be doing the race, and after the fact—it’s pretty safe to say that overall, my expectations were definitely met.

But let’s start at the beginning—because what’s a race recap without expo and pre-race details?

On Saturday, BF and I made our way from Pasadena, CA (where we were staying) to Anaheim to get our race packets at the Disneyland Hotel. This is about where my Disney-themed excitement really began and lasted until our final farewell to the park on Sunday afternoon. Typical expo scene—plus a boatload of Disney-themed running things, music, DJs, etc.

BF has a toothpick in his mouth, he doesn’t just look creepy normally.

Sorority pride in the form of exercise headbands! I didn’t buy one, but I appreciated the gesture.

The best part was the option to SEE the finish line.

I actually have never seen a finish line before the end of a race, and although I consider the finish line to be sacred ground, it was definitely fun to see where the grand finale would take place the next day.

If you read my post on Friday, you know that I really didn’t have high ambitions in terms of actually “racing” this race. I never intended on taking it too seriously, plus with peak weeks for Chicago afoot, it was the best decision to lay-off in terms of speed and effort during this race. Needless to say, I wasn’t nearly as nervous come race morning as I normally am.

It’s 3:45 am!!! No one has ever been up this early!! Let’s take a photo!

BF and I were both in Corral A, which was very nice, and we managed to do the whole wake up-drive-arrive-park-porta potty-corral-wait thing like champs. We had enough time that we weren’t stressed out, but we also only wait for the race start for about 10 minutes.

BF DON’T HATE ME FOR POSTING THIS K?

After the National Anthem played, FIREWORKS went off (yes, at 5:45 in the morning) and with the shot of a gun, we were off!

The race course was designed to highlight both the Disney parks as well as Anaheim, and it showed. I knew this race was bound to be impressive (both due to Disney’s reputation and the first born child fee it cost to get in, but I wasn’t expecting quite the spectacles we were given.

To start off, there were spectators nearly the entire race. And not just one or two “Go Mom!” signs…like, crowds of people lining the course, cheering everyone on. And not only general fans—there were cheerleaders, volleyball teams (weird?), bands, even a rally of old-time cars honking their horns. It was mighty impressive, and there’s something so great about getting your name called out even if it’s by a stranger.

We started off going through California Adventure, winding our way through the park. All the lights on the attractions were on, so it was really easy to see everything and everyone. It was at this point that there started to be characters along the course, which was highly entertaining. They were all definitely in character in terms of the mannerisms. Oh, and just about every princess was there EXCEPT for Belle. She was probably too busy reading and being an independent woman.

Mid-run photo fail. But you get the idea.

After leaving California Adventure, we headed into Disneyland for a run around all the different lands. It’s surprising how much smaller Disneyland feels when A) you aren’t 7, B) you’re running through it, and C)there aren’t hoards of people to meander around. Perhaps my favorite part of the race was when we ran down Main Street toward the castle. I got all kinds of giggly and we stopped for a photo.

Dark shot…but you get the idea.

At this point, the course was still decently crowded. I normally don’t mind crowds too much, but with BF and I staying together the whole time, all the weaving was a little annoying. But relatively speaking, everything was still well and good, and without a goal time—we really didn’t mind the bunching.

When we left Disneyland, we were around mile 5 or so and for all I knew we hadn’t really been running at all. BF and I were clocking a cool 8:50 pace or so, and I was so distracted/enthralled with the whole thing that it barely felt like a race.

The next 5 or so miles took us through Anaheim toward Angel Stadium. These miles were definitely less scenic than the rest of the course, but the race did a good job of making sure there were still groups cheering along the way. There was even an authentic mariachi band and Spanish dancers which was great.

There had been a few rolling hills at this point but really nothing significant. It was flat mostly, and it felt like a course someone would choose for their own run, if that makes sense.

Around mile 10 we came into Angels Stadium which is where the real cheering began. The stands were piled with all kinds of people cheering, and it was really encouraging to run into a professional ballpark feeling like the competitor. We ran nearly all the way around the warning track of the field, and they projected all the runners on the big screen by the scoreboard.

We were starting to realize at this point where some of the enormous registration fee went…

{BTW I took a video of the stadium crowds, but WordPress wouldn’t upload it. Sad.}

You might be wondering exactly how I/we were feeling at this point. I know race reports are typically filled with minute-by-minute details of when every Gu was consumed and when each calf began to cramp. But honestly, I have never felt better during a race. I almost felt like I was on an easy recovery run rather than an actual half marathon, and by Mile 11 I felt it might as well have been Mile 3. I did have, by the way, only two cups of water and no Gus during the race…and I choked on both cups. Still a skill I need to learn.

Now, it would be a lie to say that BF felt as good as I did. He was in pretty high spirits up until this point in the race, but around this time his endurance started to wane. We both expected this—so it wasn’t surprising, but let’s just say someone was not very excited about all of my “Look at that!”s and “I love this!”

However, he went almost two weeks without running at all (severely rolled ankle) and it wasn’t until two and a half weeks ago that he actually even started running again. He maxed out mileage at 8.5 miles last week, and although he was pretty confident he could finish the half—he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

And although he was definitely feeling it around Mile 11—I was in awe of him. After very little endurance exercise, clocking 8:50 and below miles consistently is pretty damn awesome—especially when that’s only slightly above what he does when he’s in great shape. He was a rockstar.

We picked it up a little bit toward the end, and I asked if he wanted to hold hands across the finish line. He was game, and as we approached the end both of us were getting so excited and we picked it up a lot. Once the finish line was in sight, I knew we’d finish in under 2 hours (which wasn’t even a goal) and..behold, Mickey and Minnie were at the finish line! So, despite my hand-holding idea and BF’s compliance, the poor boy was left holding his hand out unheld while his Disney-freak girlfriend scurried over to Mickey and Minnie for her euphoric finale.

The photos are hilarious, and in the end we did hold hands across the finish line, but not before I got to slap those big gloves of love.

1:56!

For a race with no goal other than to go slow and have fun (and stop and take pictures!) this wasn’t too shabby. Mostly, I was just impressed that BF was able to pull off such an impressive display without much training.

And as for me, the race might as well have been 5 miles. It FLEW by, and I credit that to going slower than normal but also how much fun it was to see and hear everything going on. I LOVED not wearing headphones for this race, and it was really nice to be able to chat with someone the whole time. I’m not convinced these strategies would work in an actual goal race, but for a race with no agenda—it was perfect.

Ignore Mr. PhotoBomb in the background.

Finishers!

Disney Half-Marathon success!!

I loved this race, and after a quick baby-wipe bath and change of clothes, we were ready for a day at the park. That’s a post for another day…but I’ll show you how it started off:

Mickey waffles!!!

Going to the Minnie and friends BUFFET breakfast was perhaps the best idea I’ve ever had. Refueling from the race and prefueling for Disneyland at its finest.

The heaviest/coolest medal ever. We wore them all day.

Have you ever done a Disney race? What did you think of it? Did you dress up? Were you up as early as we were?