Thankful

I am thankful that I can run. With a husband diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, it is all too real to me that not everyone can. And I am thankful that the Boss encourages me to run–that he gets the kids up and breakfasted as often as he does, that he supports the financial and time investment that it means to keep me in road racing. The woman he married was not an athlete, but became one, and he willingly supports her. I’m overwhelmingly thankful for that.

But it’s important to me as a Christ follower that I keep God central in my life, and running a peripheral part of it.

So, today, Thanksgiving, I took the day off from running. I take Sundays off and do not plan runs on Sundays, except major races, those I train for for a quarter of the year, when unavoidable.

I’m thankful for Christ. And for the season that celebrates His birth, His coming to redeem me. May you find in your Thanksgiving Day the time to truly thank God for everything He’s given you, both materially and spiritually.

He is good! All the time!

Gettin’ Turned Around

Set out from home on Monday for an eight-mile run. I’d mapped it ahead of time using the wonderful mapping capabilities at RunningAHEAD.com–actually the course turned out to be an eight-and-a-half miler, and I was okay with that. Played around a little bit with the possibility of downloading it as a course to my 205, but I am not that computer savvy and it would have taken longer to figure how to do it than to run the eight miles, so I just paid a lot of attention to the route, taking the time to even write down every turn. It’s not like I was taking the notes on the run, but I’m a visual/verbal learner and writing down the turns was my way of transferring the map to my brain.

Got dressed. Temps were in the upper 50s, so shorts and long sleeve were the choice for the day, and set out. Paid attention to every turn, down to the mile markers, which I’d also noted on my map, and I was dead on. Well, until about mile 4 or so. I got to one turn and I knew I was off. Ah, man.

I wasn’t too far off from where I should be, so instead of bagging the course I got back on track and resumed my run. Listening to my 205’s trills I knew I was off by about a quarter mile. Well, I hate those quarter-mile things, so I rounded it off to a nine-mile run when I got back to my street.

Here’s the funny part. I get back in the house and tell the Boss that I know I’m home later than usual; I set out later than I should have, really, and I got a little turned around and ran an extra mile (though really that shouldn’t have mattered much because like a fool I actually ran those nine miles way too fast, at an 8:57 average pace). He says, “Don’t you have a Garmin?”

Well, yes, sweetheart. But all the Garmin does is tell me                                     x you are here

x you are supposed to be here.

It doesn’t actually beam me up, Scotty-style, and take me home when I get off-track. I still have to run, walk, or crawl home. So yes, it will tell me kindly that I’m lost, and what direction home is, and even how far it will have taken me to get there when I arrive, but no, it will not actually keep me from getting lost, though it will leave a breadcrumb trail that I could follow home in the woods.

Thanks, Garmie. Always a pal.

Race Autopsy

We used to do this in school, dissecting a lesson or unit we’d prepared, to talk about what had gone well and what hadn’t and get ready for the next step. I figured I’d do this now since I might not be taking too long before beginning training for the next race–either a 5k/10k training cycle or a 26.2 race.

What went well in this training cycle?
I trained with a specific goal in mind and I stuck to the plan. In this specific case, ambition worked to my advantage–though I aimed to go sub-2, I didn’t know how far under it I could go, so on speedwork days I did push past the stated pace. But on easy days I didn’t push the distance.

How was this training different from training for my first half?
I put in a lot, I repeat, a lot, more miles this time around. My highest training week before my first half was 29 miles, my highest mileage month was 118 months, and my longest run was one 14 miler. This time around, my highest training week was was 48 miles, my highest mileage month was 168 miles, and I ran two 15-milers and two 16-milers. My taper was shorter, too. Last time I ran no speedwork. This time I ran speedwork every week. Last time I trained for my half in about ten weeks; this time around I’ve considered myself in serious training for this specific race since July, and I was training to improve my short-distance times since March. So yeah, basically I never stopped training after my first half.

What will I do again?
I think I’ll keep taking turns on speed days between the intervals and tempo runs. I used to hate intervals, and I don’t anymore, maybe because, since I’ve considered myself in long-distance training, I’ve given myself permission to do only very long intervals–that is, mile repeats with quarter-mile recoveries. I do push the pace on those, and I run them progressively, so that I run the last one at what I would consider breakneck pace. I don’t generally have to walk my recoveries, though.

What did I do wrong?

• Ah, let me count the ways! Well, first of all, I missed a week of training three weeks out. But that was largely unavoidable–overseas air travel is expensive and we had to get the tickets when we could, and nothing could have predicted that I would not get even one run in while we were away. Besides, I’m not an Olympian, and I was only chasing a PR, not Kara Goucher. Rule #6: Running is supposed to be part my life, not my whole life. It just wasn’t worth making our trip miserable to fit my running in. So the shoes got to go on a nice little overseas trip. In the end, I jumped back into the schedule when I got back. It may have cost me a long run, but life is like that.
• I didn’t practice with Gu at race pace. That was inexcusable, especially having had the experience that I couldn’t take Sport Beans on the run. I knew the Gu didn’t bother my stomach, but I should’ve taken the opportunity to find out if I could swallow it while running at 9-minute pace. Instead, I stopped to take it on my long runs. And I did do a few miles at race pace on my last pre-race long run, so like I said, inexcusable. I didn’t realize my mistake until mile 10 of my last long run, eight days out from the race. By then there was nothing to be done. But it was a stupid oversight.

What new discoveries did I make about gear/tools/tricks?

• Well, that Gu isn’t as revolting as previously imagined. Which is funny, because I’m not rushing out to buy it in flavors other than Chocolate Outrage, and though friends have recommended Accelerade and Hammer gel, I still have my reservations about those products, which I know rationally are just like Gu. But, there you go. Whether the impact was physiological or not, I credit a few minutes of my race time to the two well-timed packets of Chocolate Outrage Gu.
• That hydrating well, especially as summer begins in these southern climes, is important. Later on, as your body gets accustomed to the insane weather conditions, it gets easier to complete a one-hour run without stopping for water, but initially, at least, it’s important not to. Training through the summer here can be downright dangerous.
• I discovered long ago that BodyGlide between the legs is a wonderful thing. I never had an arm issue. But, lately, I did start developing blisters. I started freaking out because on my last half this happened at the tail end of my race. I was worried about starting the race with blisters. Wearing a bandaid that might slip around inside my shoe seemed like a less than ideal solution. BodyGlide to the rescue! Yes, I now BodyGlide my feet before every run.
• That IcyHot before a run can be important for people with chronically tight calves.
• That running that bridge gave me some muscled legs! You should see some of my pictures. Yikes!
• That some seriously beautiful women run. At first, I was insecure about my lack of speed. But looking around in Ft Lauderdale, I started wondering if I was pretty enough to be running around out there. Gorgeous women on A1A. Remarkable. At least one in full makeup. Really.
• Dark colored running shirts are good. Or, if you like the white tempo top (hey, mine is white), then a dark colored running bra. Please, don’t make me tell you why. I really want to know how pretty you are. What, you think you don’t sweat?

What’s next?
Well, hopefully, PR’s in the 5 and 10k. I’ve never been one to set high goals, mostly because I hate disappointing myself. Well, maybe I should be honest and say that I don’t state high goals. I set high goals for myself but I don’t say them out loud; then I disappoint no one but myself.

My current 5k PR is 26:15. I would love to go sub-24.
My current 10k PR is 59:15. I could be very conservative with this one because it’s such a bad number, but I really want to go sub-54.

PRs in the shorter distances are hopefully not far off, now that I know I could run 8-minute miles in the 5k and 8:30 or better in the 10k. But to shave off even more time in 2009, I think I’ll have to improve my diet. I seriously do not watch what I eat, mostly because I don’t have to anymore. After I lost all that weight, I’ve been blessed to keep it off just by running. I recently cut out most dairy from my diet to see if it improved my digestion and lost another five pounds, so weight is not an issue. But I eat more junk than I should.

I also ought to cross train more. Better abs might mean I could run in just a running bra–a definite training advantage in July–and they would improve my running form. And my flexibility is a weakness, so I should explore yoga more.

I like the 13.1 distance, so I’d like to run another half in ‘09, though I’m not as anxious to break another barrier this time.

And, of course, I want to finish a marathon. That’s it for that one. No time goal.

Marathon Predictions

Let’s see.

McMillan has me coming in at 3:53:15; this works out to an 8:55 pace.

The average prediction at Running for Fitness is 3:50:07, an 8:46 pace.

The formula at Chicago Endurance Sports says I should finish 26.2 in 3:50:35, at an 8:49 (they use Reigel’s formula).

Marathon Guide’s prediction is 3:51:38, an 8:51 pace.

Marathon Anners’ formula has me crossing the finish line in 247 minutes, or 4:07. This works out to a 9:26 pace.

I can’t believe it. My original goal was not to be too embarassed and be even close to a 4:30.

Okay, next up, picking a race. I’d originally aimed to run A1A, where I ran my first half, but now I’m thinking of waiting and running Hartford in October. Decisions, decisions.

Back at It

Yup.

Easy four today. Felt good. Cold, though–50 degrees as I set out. Ran from home instead of doing my usual drive-to-the-nicer-neighborhood. Tryin’ to be greener and all. And no dogs ate me, and no cars hit me.

Got home and mapped out some new routes from home–six, seven, eight-milers.

Will take off tomorrow even though I feel good–partly because it’s forecast to be in the forties, partly because I want to be smart about returning to training.

Crunching Numbers

The nerd’s at it again.

• First of all, from February to November, I shaved close to 12 minutes off my PR for this distance.
• My pace for my last half was 9:20; this time it was 8:27. That means I took off a whopping 53 seconds per mile through my training this summer.
• A funny one: my pace for my 5k PR is (drumroll, please): 8:27. Yeah, that’s right. (How ridiculous is that?)
• Frighteningly, McMillan now predicts that I should be able to run the 3.1 at a 7:42 pace; that’s a sub-24 5k.
• Insanely, the 10k prediction is just under sub-8 pace. Insane. That brings me in just under 50 minutes.
• He also predicts a sub-4 marathon, though I have no intention of racing my first.

The funny thing about all these things is that I consistently under perform in all my short races and overperform in the long ones. Stupid, since I was trained as a sprinter. But, there you are.

1:50:36

That was my net time at the 13.1 Fort Lauderdale.

We left town at around 5:30 and stopped on the way south to use a gift certificate at Olive Garden. Though I intended to eat a tomato-based saucey pasta, I figured I was only running 13 and a cheese sauce couldn’t hurt me too much, so I succumbed to the fantastic Steak Gorgonzola. And I’d do it again. It was fabulous. We shared a chocolate gelatto for dessert. I made sure to stay a comfortable full.

Checked into the Avalon Waterfront Inns, where the Boss and I were informed that because they were full, we were being given “the penthouse”–their rather generous name for an unused apartment that functions as a large suite. It would easily have slept eight. The king size bed in the larger room was very comfortable and I turned in at around 8:30. Boss stayed up watching a little football until he, too, turned out the lights, only to be intermittently awoken by party sounds–I thought it was clubbers returning from parties but it turned out to be a party at one of the adjoining buildings. It didn’t bother me too much–I drifted in and out of sleep and felt like I got as solid a night’s sleep as you can before race day.

Rose at 4. News reported it to be 70 degrees and I was bummed–figured the incoming cool front had stalled. Donned race gear. Fueled up. Glided down. Left the hotel around 4:30 to discover the front had not stalled–it was not 70 but freezing! Windy, too. We arrived at the designated parking at the start line about 4:40. Stayed in the car until about 5:15, about an hour before the start. Had time to visit the porta-potties twice, wearing my long-sleeve tech tee and the Boss’s fleece over that, too. It was seriously cold, and the wind was whipping so seriously that I thought about ditching the hat. Finally I lost the fleece, and then the long-sleeve tech for a short warm-up. Knew I’d warm up very quickly running, and that with the sun coming up at 6:30, just minutes after the gun, I’d probably appreciate the visor. Decided to keep it.

Before I knew it, it was time to get in the chute. Kissed my beloved, lined up with the nine-minute milers. After the anthem, we were off!

Boy, was it crowded. Those first few miles especially were rough–I had to keep getting outside the traffic cones just to pass, which I felt like I had to do a lot to get into my rhythm. I was afraid I’d get way off pace and end up with an over-ten minute mile, but came in at 8:59. Just as mile two was ending (8:23) we came upon a tunnel. I love uphills and downhills, and doing the downhill first was a nice change of pace–letting gravity do the work for me first, then surging ahead on the uphill, right into a beautiful curve that tossed us into Broward Boulevard. I loved it. I felt like I was cruising, though at this point I was a little bit concerned about my pace–mile 3 came in at 8:43 and I thought that was a little fast for so early in the race.

Mile 4, over the bridge at Las Olas–this time the uphill first, but I didn’t mind–came in at 8:35. Again, crowded! But coming up on A1A was my favorite part of this course, which was so similar to my first half marathon. Here, the spectators are out cheering, and you’re out of the city and onto the beach, and you know you’ve just got to cruise for a few miles north and then boomerang south. It was windy on A1A, though–mile 5 at 8:37.

At mile 6 I had my first Gu, chased by water–8:32. Mile 7 came in at 8:38, and other than mile 1 , that was my slowest mile. True to form, I would begin to pick it up after that, in spite of having gone out faster than intended. It was right around mile 7 that I was passed by the elites on their return trip. I caught up around here with some triathletes and tried to stay close to them, allowing their conversation to distract me and their footfalls to pace me. Thanks to them, mile 8 was a speedy 8:22.

Turnaround was close to mile 9. I couldn’t believe how my pace was picking up, because consciously I knew I’d gone out too fast. But checking in with my body revealed no soreness–no tightening knees or calves, no sore toes; I felt great–strong and beautiful.

Mile 9 came in at 8:28–another benchmark mile, since I would pick it up again after this. In my original stated strategy I said I intended to pick it up at the mile 10 marker, yet in my simulation race I didn’t have anything left at that point. Not today–I had plenty left in the tank. Mile 10 came in at 8:16. Took my second Gu out of my pocket at mile 10.5 to warm it, and started sucking it down at about mile 11. Took my time with it, even as I cruised to an 8:04 mile. One of my triathletes came up from behind me at this point. I remembered that to hold your pace at this point means not to stay with people around you, who frequently are slowing down and therefore present an illusion, but to pass people. The triathlete was passing people. I decided to stay as close behind him as I could. Mile 12, 7:56. I washed my Gu down with water at the 12-mile mark water station, put my head down, and thought–this is it–longest mile ahead of you.

Now, I’ve never run sub-8 at the tail end of a long run, especially a long run run at race pace. But I was darned if I was going to lose it now. Looking at the clocks at every mile marker, doing the math, I knew I was going to be sub-2, but I was determined to be as far under it as I could. I kept that triathlete in my sights. The distance between us got shorter. I picked a woman between us. Tried to go to her left and got hemmed in. Swung to her right, passed her. I noticed her surging, staying on my shoulder for a minute, but she couldn’t hold pace and eventually dropped back. Picked the triathlete himself next–surged ahead of him and passed him easily. As we were coming into the finish line, surrounded by people cheering, I saw the Boss. He seemed surprised to see me–I knew I was way earlier than we’d thought–he’d predicted 1:52, I’d predicted 1:55–but he snapped a picture as I ran by. I like how in his picture the other runners look tired and I look like I’m having a ball. Hey, it’s my picture, so I get to interpret it.

The clock read 1:52, I thought as I ran in–mile 13 came in at 7:43.

The medal is ugly, though I did score my first space blanket. Who am I kidding? All that matters is that I scored my sub-two. All that training, all those early-morning eight milers, all those tempo runs in the July and August heat.

Average pace, 8:27.
15th of 117 women in my age group.
77th of 720 women.
319th of 1382 overall.

My Final Four

Last pre-race run: four easy miles. Ran them in my skirt, wanting to feel strong and beautiful and like running is my second nature. It is warm in South Florida this week, but I ran negative splits and felt good as I begin the last preparations for this race.

It’s amazing how you can build something up in your mind. It’s just 13.1 miles, but I’ve been training for this for so long that I want it very badly. I can’t wait to lace up the shoes and get down to the starting line. The start of my last half still makes my heart smile: all those runners pounding the pavement together in the predawn darkness, all setting out to cover miles and miles.

No pacers this time; a smallish, inaugural race might mean we’re working out some kinks. I’ll try to remember all the details.

One of my closest running buds is running Rock and Roll San Antonio this weekend: May you have wings on your feet, G! I’ll be running with you in mind, knowing you’re well ahead of me in pace, and praying your 26.2 is the race of a lifetime.

I’m right in the middle of picking out my own 26.2. It’s time.

Final Speedwork

Today was my last speedwork session before race day: 6 miles total, with 4 miles run at 8:28. Now, my 5k PR is 26:15, so I know the prescribed pace is pretty close to my 5k pace, yet I’m being asked to run 4 miles at that pace. But, it’s been a while since I set that 5k PR–or came close to it. My last 5k was run on a very hot day in July, when I ran a 26:26. So let’s see what’s going on.

It was hot again today, and windy on the back miles, which I’m going to blame on my non-negative (would that be positive) splits instead of fatigue.

In spite of that, I did it. I ran the 4 miles at 8:21 pace. That means I could maybe run a 5k in 25:45 or 25:55. That’s amazing. For me.

In spite of that, the best part of today’s speed session was the discovery that I can run fast when I want, and that holding a fast pace, though it’s hard work, can feel smooth. I hit my cruise control today. Kept remembering Kara Goucher as her long hair sailed past her on her way through the boroughs. Thought of TK and her mantra of “Strong. Beautiful.” I will be so on Sunday. Oh, and fast.

And if I can hold 8:21, I can hold 8:45, no problem.

Doubt

Yes, it’s starting to creep in.

Ran my four today to the rhythm of clouding thoughts, even as winds laden with tiny raindrops played with my new tempo top from the Nike store, which I purchased with my birthday gift card.

My right calf is supremely sore. Seriously, maybe-it’s-injured sore. How the heck can I run a race on this? My leg might give out if I run faster than this pace, let alone race pace.

What do you mean, run thirteen miles at race pace? I’m running now at just under ten-minute miles and I hate it, and I wish it were over. How in tarnation do I think I’m going to run thirteen of these things ninety seconds per mile faster?

And come back and talk about marathon training? Twenty-six of them? At this pace? On these legs. Seriously. Come on, now.

Doubt.