I don't recall setting goals and resolutions this time last year. I had clearly registered for the Big Sur International Marathon. The goal of finishing accompanies something like that.
This year I ran two half marathons and, much to my surprise, two marathons.
In training I tried programs that scared me. I'm glad that I did. Once again, I showed myself that I can do things that appear near impossible.
I did not PR in my half marathons, but I did not hit personal worsts either. I, however, did better at SF 2011 than I did at Nike Women's Half in 2010. And SF was hillier! While not a technical PR, I'm glad that I performed as I did. At the Big Sur Half, I ran my second faster time ever there having had to hold back for CIM.
I did PR at CIM, improving my Big Sur International Marathon time by 26:24. That felt amazing.
I logged, as of this morning, 1149 miles for the year. I'm proud of the rest and recovery that I have enjoyed this December. I feel like a proper runner obeying the gods of rest and recovery.
It was a good year for me.
30 December 2011
26 December 2011
Things I Covet
I should covet anything with the Christmas that I just experienced. I'm quite loved if you believe gifts are evidence of love. Not talking quantity necessarily, but quality.
In terms of running, my husband surprised me with some running crops and a pair of purple compression socks. I can't wait to take them out for a spin! I'm thinking tomorrow might be the day. My son may be staying the night at a friend's house which gives me a child-free morning for running! It has been nearly a week since my last run. The holidays, a cold virus, and my husband's work schedule have conspired against me.
It is probably for the best since my marathon was three weeks ago. It is probably wise that I haven't been running. Must recover. But I think it is time to get back out there.
I spent a lot of time online looking for ways to spend my Christmas money on running gear. Oh my! So much out there that I covet.
I didn't even know that these things existed, but I am pretty sure that I need them: Knuckle Lights.
I also am looking into a new GPS watch. Since I've been disappointed by Garmin, I'm looking at another possibility. The Timex Ironman Run Trainer looks amazing for the price, but I am still tempted by the pricey Garmin 610 with its fancy touchscreen. Both promise the 8 hour battery life. I think I'll need to go the way of the Timex because of price considerations.
With no marathon for the spring (YAY!), I have the freedom and luxury of running smaller local run races here and there just because I can. Right now I have a Resolution Run, a local 10K, a local 5K, and a mud run on my wish list to go along with my next half at the Oakland Running Festival in March.
Don't even get me started on these orange arm warmers with thumbholes that are seemingly out of stock everywhere!
In terms of running, my husband surprised me with some running crops and a pair of purple compression socks. I can't wait to take them out for a spin! I'm thinking tomorrow might be the day. My son may be staying the night at a friend's house which gives me a child-free morning for running! It has been nearly a week since my last run. The holidays, a cold virus, and my husband's work schedule have conspired against me.
It is probably for the best since my marathon was three weeks ago. It is probably wise that I haven't been running. Must recover. But I think it is time to get back out there.
I spent a lot of time online looking for ways to spend my Christmas money on running gear. Oh my! So much out there that I covet.
I didn't even know that these things existed, but I am pretty sure that I need them: Knuckle Lights.
I also am looking into a new GPS watch. Since I've been disappointed by Garmin, I'm looking at another possibility. The Timex Ironman Run Trainer looks amazing for the price, but I am still tempted by the pricey Garmin 610 with its fancy touchscreen. Both promise the 8 hour battery life. I think I'll need to go the way of the Timex because of price considerations.
With no marathon for the spring (YAY!), I have the freedom and luxury of running smaller local run races here and there just because I can. Right now I have a Resolution Run, a local 10K, a local 5K, and a mud run on my wish list to go along with my next half at the Oakland Running Festival in March.
Don't even get me started on these orange arm warmers with thumbholes that are seemingly out of stock everywhere!
04 December 2011
California International Marathon Race Report
Background
Essentially, I signed up for this race to avenge my performance at Big Sur earlier this year. Revenge running is awesome.
Training
I cleverly avoided any sort of training plan that had the word "mortals" in the title. I followed Hal Higdon's Intermediate I plan because it seems like the right progression for me at this time in my running life.
Even though the plan initially horrified me because I couldn't fathom doing it at all, I actually selected well. The plan fit well in my life, or I fit my life in the plan. It never overwhelmed but kept me busy and more importantly provided the right sorts of challenges for me.
I hope that I select well for my next plan. It's all about evolving, right?
Pre-Race
This was the first race that I had to drive up to the race without my husband. He had to work and was going to drive up to Sacramento after he got off work. My son was my traveling partner. Sacramento is a little less that two hours from my house. My son was bored about an hour away. Somehow I conned him into finding the letters of the alphabet in people's license plates, but he had to discover them in order. Surprisingly, it took us that hour just to get to the letter L.
The expo was an expo. What can I say? Fortunately, the Fleet Feet people were selling Honey Stingers. I was OUT and thought that I would have to stomach (literally and figuratively) Gu. I try to mix it up because I don't like too much of either.
Then I got ballsy. I drove to the MALL. Navigating the mall both in the parking lot and inside was only slightly easier than running the marathon. Only slightly. The mall was certainly more painful and more frustrating.
But the mall make my son happy because it had a LEGO store. (Insert booming angelic chorus aquí). And I got some Christmas shopping done! Bonus!
We got back to the hotel in time to discovered that my Garmin hates me. It had somehow chosen that day to commit electronic suicide. At least I had enough time to go out and buy a new one. I suppose that is the only bright side I could come up with. I had trained too hard and for too long to not have the support of my watch. I'm spoiled.
The time period between the discover of the Garmin suicide and the acquisition of the replacement was the most stressful time of the entire weekend. I just didn't know what to do. Eventually I caved in to just spending the money even though I hated it. But the stress dissipated. So money does buy temporary peace.
Before going to sleep, I decided on my goals. I know most people make these decision well in advance. I didn't quite now what to make my A goal. I was flirting with the idea of making my A goal merely a PR, but I decided to challenge myself.
A: Sub 5:00
B: PR (previous marathon time 5:24:xx)
C: Finish without injury
Race Day
My iPhone alarm went off at 4 am. This is largely unimportant since my internal alarm woke me up at 3:30 am.
I'm embarrassed to share this, but somehow I got into the very bad habit of eating PopTarts before long runs. I followed the cardinal rule of racing--don't change a damn thing--and had my PopTarts and coffee. (And obviously water!)
I followed my complicated layering plan well and was out of the door at 5:15 ready to catch my bus to the start line.
Everyone else in the hotel was doing the same thing so I had to wait a few minutes at the elevator with other runners who had already been waiting for five minutes themselves. Finally the chariot arrived and we were whisked down to the longest line of adults waiting to board yellow school buses that I have ever seen in my life.
The bus took us 26 miles away to the start. It seemed like it took forever to get there. I eavesdropped on the conversations. Lots of comments about bagels and Boston and bathrooms. But most of the conversation was about weather. Apparently the 2009 CIM temperatures were legendary.
We arrived. I disembarked the bus and walked to the longest line of port-a-potties that I have ever seen in my life. They were lined up at attention for what seemed like a half of a mile. I hardly had to wait at all. It was not what I am used to at all. Why is CIM the least expensive race that I have ever run YET it had the BEST organization and runner amenities?
It was damned cold. I waited until the last possible moment to take off my sweats. Once time ran out. I handed over my meager possessions to a volunteer, activated the hand warmers, and found the 5:10 pace group.
Then I set my Garmin's Virtual Partner to a 11:15 pace which translates to a sub 4:55 marathon. Crazy. Where did that come from?
Cue anthem. Cue wheelchair athletes. Cue elites. Cue the everymen and everywomen.
Race
And we're off!
MILES 1-4
I stuck with the 5:10 pace group for the first mile. Pacer wasn't running a 5:10 pace. He was running faster than a 4:55 pace. This confused me, but whatever. He actually started walking at the one mile mark. I wasn't going to put up with this, I went ahead. But when I had to take off my long sleeved shirt (why this took so long, I don't know) around mile 1.5, the 5:10 group caught up with me, so I rejoined them.
During this time, I was annoyed by a constant jingle-jangle. It sounded as if some runners wore a entire jewelry store's inventory on their wrists. It wasn't the sound of jangling keys. The pitch was higher. Like bangle bracelets. I quite seriously wanted to say something aloud. Who the hell would wear anything on a 26.2 mile footrace that made SO MUCH NOISE. For heaven's sake! I hated humanity briefly.
Mile 4? That was my bathroom stop. I envy the men who can simply go behind the port-a-potty or duck off the road and go. I'm guessing that I lost three minutes during Mile 4 waiting for a bathroom and using it. THREE MINUTES! I just checked Garmin. I think I lost 4:23! FOUR TWENTY THREE! That is the difference between my time and my moving time! My bladder hates me.
MILES 9-12
I eventually caught up to The Trojan and passed him. I then caught up to the 5:10 pace group and passed them. I had hit 11:25 average pace on my Garmin, the magic number that I needed to go sub 5:00. And I wanted to maintain that. So I did. I couldn't maintain my 11:25 with the 5:10 group.
While I was running, I remembered mile 10 of Big Sur and how I knew that I was in trouble then. Mile 10 of CIM was no big deal. I remember thinking that I would definitely have a PR for this race at mile 10 simply based on how good I was feeling. Clearly, catching up with and passing 5:10 helped me scale my pace back. I wisely slowed a bit.
MILES 13-16
I remember thinking to myself around mile 15 that the pain should be showing up within the next couple of miles. My right hip flexor or my right IT band sometimes bothers me at the end of a run longer than 15 miles. The feet can start hurting. I told myself after I hit mile 15 to NOT do the math of how many to go, to FOCUS one mile at a time, and to FOCUS on each song that came on the iPod. The iPod random shuffle gods were kind.
MILES 17-20
Mile 17 was slow because I walked while trying to move my Gu stash in my shorts pocket to the pouch on my handheld water bottle, it seemed to take an eternity to get them out. An eternity during which the 5:10 group made a reappearance.
Oh hell no.
Clearly, I got away from them. I didn't see them again for the remainder of the race. I just kept focusing on song lyrics and getting to the next mile marker.
One of my favorite moments from the race happened after I hit mile 19 and I passed two men walking. They appeared to be around my age. As I passed them, one of them said, "I'm stick and tired of being fucking passed all the time. We've been passed this entire race." Reader, I smiled. I smiled big at this point. My first smile of the race.
Mile Marker 20 was a brick wall that you ran through. I hit Mile 20 at 3:49:04. My fastest 20 miles ever.
At Big Sur I wanted to die at Mile 20. I had to fight to get a Gu down at this time at Big Sur. At CIM I breezed through with no problems.
My watch was still showing an 11:25/11:26 average pace. I realized at this point that I could finish sub 5:00 if I didn't allow my mind to mess with my heart. Suddenly, I felt pressure to perform. My A goal was possible. I've never hit my A goal before.
MILES 21-24
My friend Linda ran the 4th leg of the relay, the final 5.7 miles of the course. In her relay report, she called this part of the course where the devil lives. The last 10K of the marathon is a strange mental zone. I think that I just talked to myself over an over again to get through the pain. I reminded myself of some facts. Repeatedly.
Fact: I trained a lot.
Fact: Too many runs were early in the morning.
Fact: My husband has to put up with me at my most stressed pre-race.
Fact: I bought an emergency Garmin.
Fact: Sub 5:00 sounds somewhat respectable.
Fact: I can do this.
Fact: I have to do this.
Fact: Julie Moss finished her Ironman.
Fact: My internal governor LIES to me about my energy stores. I have energy.
Fact: Julie Moss got up and kept going.
Fact: It will feel awesome to hit an A goal.
Fact: I'm passing everyone.
Fact: Once you hit 24, you have to take your last Gu of 2011. NO MORE GU!
MILES 25-26.2
I told myself that I must not stop running because when I stopped at the last aid station to walk briefly while drinking the water, my legs objected. The pain of not running was intense. I forced myself to just keep going. Plus it felt pretty amazing to pass all of the fallen.
I had banked some time with miles 23 and 24 and my Garmin was reading an average pace like 11:21 which mathematically meant that with the way I was running, I would definitely finish sub 5. I realized this as a Snow Patrol (don't judge) song came on the iPod and when the lead singer sang, "This could be the very minute I'm aware I'm alive" and then later, "This is the straw, final straw." I attributed the lyrics of this song to my running experience at that particular moment. I know that that particular Snow Patrol song has NOTHING to do with what I was doing but I felt alive at that moment because I was going to reach my A goal. I was going to be what I wanted to become. And that was the final straw. I may have teared up a little.
The last portion of the race you go from 56th street all the way down to the Capitol. I thought that I would be turning on 12th street to get to the finish. I was wrong. It wasn't until 7th street that we turned. This was just a little bit of agony. Those five blocks took forever.
But then this happened.
I've never seen my family watching me finish a race. Never. This is the first time. This was right at the 26 mile marker. I only had .2 to go. My A goal was secure. I just needed to finish and be able to talk to my husband and our kid.
End with 5:02:59 on the clock, but a chip time of 4:58:11. This was kind of a big deal for me. It isn't faster than Oprah, but it is faster than many other celebrities like Eddie Van Halen's ex-wife Valerie Bertinelli, Katie Holmes and Mario Lopez.
Take that, Big Sur!
Post-Race
I had to drive home. The boy went in my husband's car, so I was able to drive home with only my thoughts and my playlists to keep me company. Sublime.
Once I got home and could check out my results, I realized that I ran negative splits. First half was 2:29:51, which makes the second half 2:28:20. Not a huge negative split, but MY FIRST EVER NEGATIVE SPLITS! And it was on a marathon!
Now
My quads hurt. It is difficult to get up from a seated position. This is probably why this race report is so long. I don't want to get up. It will hurt. However, I am running out of things to add, and I probably should go to sleep.
Essentially, I signed up for this race to avenge my performance at Big Sur earlier this year. Revenge running is awesome.
Training
I cleverly avoided any sort of training plan that had the word "mortals" in the title. I followed Hal Higdon's Intermediate I plan because it seems like the right progression for me at this time in my running life.
Even though the plan initially horrified me because I couldn't fathom doing it at all, I actually selected well. The plan fit well in my life, or I fit my life in the plan. It never overwhelmed but kept me busy and more importantly provided the right sorts of challenges for me.
I hope that I select well for my next plan. It's all about evolving, right?
Pre-Race
This was the first race that I had to drive up to the race without my husband. He had to work and was going to drive up to Sacramento after he got off work. My son was my traveling partner. Sacramento is a little less that two hours from my house. My son was bored about an hour away. Somehow I conned him into finding the letters of the alphabet in people's license plates, but he had to discover them in order. Surprisingly, it took us that hour just to get to the letter L.
The expo was an expo. What can I say? Fortunately, the Fleet Feet people were selling Honey Stingers. I was OUT and thought that I would have to stomach (literally and figuratively) Gu. I try to mix it up because I don't like too much of either.
Then I got ballsy. I drove to the MALL. Navigating the mall both in the parking lot and inside was only slightly easier than running the marathon. Only slightly. The mall was certainly more painful and more frustrating.
But the mall make my son happy because it had a LEGO store. (Insert booming angelic chorus aquí). And I got some Christmas shopping done! Bonus!
We got back to the hotel in time to discovered that my Garmin hates me. It had somehow chosen that day to commit electronic suicide. At least I had enough time to go out and buy a new one. I suppose that is the only bright side I could come up with. I had trained too hard and for too long to not have the support of my watch. I'm spoiled.
The time period between the discover of the Garmin suicide and the acquisition of the replacement was the most stressful time of the entire weekend. I just didn't know what to do. Eventually I caved in to just spending the money even though I hated it. But the stress dissipated. So money does buy temporary peace.
Before going to sleep, I decided on my goals. I know most people make these decision well in advance. I didn't quite now what to make my A goal. I was flirting with the idea of making my A goal merely a PR, but I decided to challenge myself.
A: Sub 5:00
B: PR (previous marathon time 5:24:xx)
C: Finish without injury
Race Day
My iPhone alarm went off at 4 am. This is largely unimportant since my internal alarm woke me up at 3:30 am.
I'm embarrassed to share this, but somehow I got into the very bad habit of eating PopTarts before long runs. I followed the cardinal rule of racing--don't change a damn thing--and had my PopTarts and coffee. (And obviously water!)
I followed my complicated layering plan well and was out of the door at 5:15 ready to catch my bus to the start line.
Everyone else in the hotel was doing the same thing so I had to wait a few minutes at the elevator with other runners who had already been waiting for five minutes themselves. Finally the chariot arrived and we were whisked down to the longest line of adults waiting to board yellow school buses that I have ever seen in my life.
The bus took us 26 miles away to the start. It seemed like it took forever to get there. I eavesdropped on the conversations. Lots of comments about bagels and Boston and bathrooms. But most of the conversation was about weather. Apparently the 2009 CIM temperatures were legendary.
We arrived. I disembarked the bus and walked to the longest line of port-a-potties that I have ever seen in my life. They were lined up at attention for what seemed like a half of a mile. I hardly had to wait at all. It was not what I am used to at all. Why is CIM the least expensive race that I have ever run YET it had the BEST organization and runner amenities?
It was damned cold. I waited until the last possible moment to take off my sweats. Once time ran out. I handed over my meager possessions to a volunteer, activated the hand warmers, and found the 5:10 pace group.
Then I set my Garmin's Virtual Partner to a 11:15 pace which translates to a sub 4:55 marathon. Crazy. Where did that come from?
Cue anthem. Cue wheelchair athletes. Cue elites. Cue the everymen and everywomen.
Race
And we're off!
 |
| SPOILER ALERT: I finished. I love maps of point to point races. It makes me feel powerful that I covered that distance. |
MILES 1-4
| 1 | 11:03.3 | 1.00 | 11:03 |
| 2 | 11:56.9 | 1.00 | 11:57 |
| 3 | 10:36.9 | 1.00 | 10:37 |
| 4 | 13:27.8 | 1.00 | 13:28 |
I stuck with the 5:10 pace group for the first mile. Pacer wasn't running a 5:10 pace. He was running faster than a 4:55 pace. This confused me, but whatever. He actually started walking at the one mile mark. I wasn't going to put up with this, I went ahead. But when I had to take off my long sleeved shirt (why this took so long, I don't know) around mile 1.5, the 5:10 group caught up with me, so I rejoined them.
During this time, I was annoyed by a constant jingle-jangle. It sounded as if some runners wore a entire jewelry store's inventory on their wrists. It wasn't the sound of jangling keys. The pitch was higher. Like bangle bracelets. I quite seriously wanted to say something aloud. Who the hell would wear anything on a 26.2 mile footrace that made SO MUCH NOISE. For heaven's sake! I hated humanity briefly.
Mile 4? That was my bathroom stop. I envy the men who can simply go behind the port-a-potty or duck off the road and go. I'm guessing that I lost three minutes during Mile 4 waiting for a bathroom and using it. THREE MINUTES! I just checked Garmin. I think I lost 4:23! FOUR TWENTY THREE! That is the difference between my time and my moving time! My bladder hates me.
That 5:10 pace team? GONE! Clearly 4:23 ahead of me at this point. Another dude from the group, I nicknamed him The Trojan because he wore a USC beanie on his head (BOO!), also hit the same bank of port-a-potties as me at the same time. He was about three people ahead of me in line. Obviously he finished first and ran off. I sighted him ahead in the distance, and make it my mission to slowly but surely catch The Trojan.
MILES 5-8
| 5 | 10:57.4 | 1.00 | 10:57 |
| 6 | 11:04.7 | 1.00 | 11:05 |
| 7 | 11:04.5 | 1.00 | 11:05 |
| 8 | 11:06.9 | 1.00 | 11:07 |
I didn't realize it at the time, but I ran these miles a bit too fast perhaps. I never really looked at the lap pace on my watch and really only paid attention to the average pace for the whole run, so I never truly realized that I was running too fast. Ignorance was probably helpful to me in this instance.
MILES 9-12
| 9 | 11:18.6 | 1.00 | 11:19 |
| 10 | 11:13.3 | 1.00 | 11:13 |
| 11 | 11:30.8 | 1.00 | 11:31 |
| 12 | 11:27.8 | 1.00 | 11:28 |
I eventually caught up to The Trojan and passed him. I then caught up to the 5:10 pace group and passed them. I had hit 11:25 average pace on my Garmin, the magic number that I needed to go sub 5:00. And I wanted to maintain that. So I did. I couldn't maintain my 11:25 with the 5:10 group.
While I was running, I remembered mile 10 of Big Sur and how I knew that I was in trouble then. Mile 10 of CIM was no big deal. I remember thinking that I would definitely have a PR for this race at mile 10 simply based on how good I was feeling. Clearly, catching up with and passing 5:10 helped me scale my pace back. I wisely slowed a bit.
MILES 13-16
| 13 | 11:25.9 | 1.00 | 11:26 |
| 14 | 11:17.6 | 1.00 | 11:18 |
| 15 | 11:46.7 | 1.00 | 11:47 |
| 16 | 11:17.3 | 1.00 | 11:17 |
I hit the half at 2:29:51. A sub 5:00 seemed out of my reach at this point because I never run negative splits no matter how hard I try. But I would do my best and hope. I wasn't terribly optimistic.
I remember thinking to myself around mile 15 that the pain should be showing up within the next couple of miles. My right hip flexor or my right IT band sometimes bothers me at the end of a run longer than 15 miles. The feet can start hurting. I told myself after I hit mile 15 to NOT do the math of how many to go, to FOCUS one mile at a time, and to FOCUS on each song that came on the iPod. The iPod random shuffle gods were kind.
MILES 17-20
| 17 | 11:59.6 | 1.00 | 12:00 |
| 18 | 11:23.4 | 1.00 | 11:23 |
| 19 | 11:08.5 | 1.00 | 11:08 |
| 20 | 11:16.6 | 1.00 | 11:17 |
Mile 17 was slow because I walked while trying to move my Gu stash in my shorts pocket to the pouch on my handheld water bottle, it seemed to take an eternity to get them out. An eternity during which the 5:10 group made a reappearance.
Oh hell no.
Clearly, I got away from them. I didn't see them again for the remainder of the race. I just kept focusing on song lyrics and getting to the next mile marker.
One of my favorite moments from the race happened after I hit mile 19 and I passed two men walking. They appeared to be around my age. As I passed them, one of them said, "I'm stick and tired of being fucking passed all the time. We've been passed this entire race." Reader, I smiled. I smiled big at this point. My first smile of the race.
Mile Marker 20 was a brick wall that you ran through. I hit Mile 20 at 3:49:04. My fastest 20 miles ever.
At Big Sur I wanted to die at Mile 20. I had to fight to get a Gu down at this time at Big Sur. At CIM I breezed through with no problems.
My watch was still showing an 11:25/11:26 average pace. I realized at this point that I could finish sub 5:00 if I didn't allow my mind to mess with my heart. Suddenly, I felt pressure to perform. My A goal was possible. I've never hit my A goal before.
MILES 21-24
| 21 | 11:23.1 | 1.00 | 11:23 |
| 22 | 11:34.8 | 1.00 | 11:35 |
| 23 | 11:09.9 | 1.00 | 11:10 |
| 24 | 11:02.9 | 1.00 | 11:03 |
My friend Linda ran the 4th leg of the relay, the final 5.7 miles of the course. In her relay report, she called this part of the course where the devil lives. The last 10K of the marathon is a strange mental zone. I think that I just talked to myself over an over again to get through the pain. I reminded myself of some facts. Repeatedly.
Fact: I trained a lot.
Fact: Too many runs were early in the morning.
Fact: My husband has to put up with me at my most stressed pre-race.
Fact: I bought an emergency Garmin.
Fact: Sub 5:00 sounds somewhat respectable.
Fact: I can do this.
Fact: I have to do this.
Fact: Julie Moss finished her Ironman.
Fact: My internal governor LIES to me about my energy stores. I have energy.
Fact: Julie Moss got up and kept going.
Fact: It will feel awesome to hit an A goal.
Fact: I'm passing everyone.
Fact: Once you hit 24, you have to take your last Gu of 2011. NO MORE GU!
MILES 25-26.2
| 25 | 10:56.6 | 1.00 | 10:57 |
| 26 | 10:32.6 | 1.00 | 10:33 |
| 27 | 3:14.7 | 0.33 | 9:53 |
I told myself that I must not stop running because when I stopped at the last aid station to walk briefly while drinking the water, my legs objected. The pain of not running was intense. I forced myself to just keep going. Plus it felt pretty amazing to pass all of the fallen.
I had banked some time with miles 23 and 24 and my Garmin was reading an average pace like 11:21 which mathematically meant that with the way I was running, I would definitely finish sub 5. I realized this as a Snow Patrol (don't judge) song came on the iPod and when the lead singer sang, "This could be the very minute I'm aware I'm alive" and then later, "This is the straw, final straw." I attributed the lyrics of this song to my running experience at that particular moment. I know that that particular Snow Patrol song has NOTHING to do with what I was doing but I felt alive at that moment because I was going to reach my A goal. I was going to be what I wanted to become. And that was the final straw. I may have teared up a little.
The last portion of the race you go from 56th street all the way down to the Capitol. I thought that I would be turning on 12th street to get to the finish. I was wrong. It wasn't until 7th street that we turned. This was just a little bit of agony. Those five blocks took forever.
But then this happened.
 |
A nice surprise at Mile 26--my kid with a sign!
|
I've never seen my family watching me finish a race. Never. This is the first time. This was right at the 26 mile marker. I only had .2 to go. My A goal was secure. I just needed to finish and be able to talk to my husband and our kid.
End with 5:02:59 on the clock, but a chip time of 4:58:11. This was kind of a big deal for me. It isn't faster than Oprah, but it is faster than many other celebrities like Eddie Van Halen's ex-wife Valerie Bertinelli, Katie Holmes and Mario Lopez.
Take that, Big Sur!
 |
Finished! Complete with PR. 26:24 faster!
|
Post-Race
I had to drive home. The boy went in my husband's car, so I was able to drive home with only my thoughts and my playlists to keep me company. Sublime.
Once I got home and could check out my results, I realized that I ran negative splits. First half was 2:29:51, which makes the second half 2:28:20. Not a huge negative split, but MY FIRST EVER NEGATIVE SPLITS! And it was on a marathon!
Now
My quads hurt. It is difficult to get up from a seated position. This is probably why this race report is so long. I don't want to get up. It will hurt. However, I am running out of things to add, and I probably should go to sleep.
02 December 2011
Pre Race Routine
In 2010, I ran my first race of bragworthy distance--a 21 miler. Before I ran that race, Radiolab ran a segment that I just loved. The story of Julie Moss fighting her way to the finish line of an Ironman with her inner voice telling her to "Get up!" gave me chills. I've re-listened to it before every race since then. I think I may have the entire thing memorized.
Another constant is Run, Fatboy, Run, a gem of little movie from 2007. It has Simon Pegg and Hank Azaria. Michael Ian Black was also somehow involved. The movie is terribly unrealistic in its depiction of race culture, but I still love it. I'm about ready to put the movie on the DVD player.
Finally, I also watch Running the Sahara. I love this movie. Every time I watch it I cry when they (spoiler alert) make it to the Red Sea.
I'm going to put on two movies and watch while I pack for CIM.
Think of me on Sunday. I'm hoping to break five hours. Hey! It would be a big deal for me. Don't you judge!
Another constant is Run, Fatboy, Run, a gem of little movie from 2007. It has Simon Pegg and Hank Azaria. Michael Ian Black was also somehow involved. The movie is terribly unrealistic in its depiction of race culture, but I still love it. I'm about ready to put the movie on the DVD player.
Finally, I also watch Running the Sahara. I love this movie. Every time I watch it I cry when they (spoiler alert) make it to the Red Sea.
I'm going to put on two movies and watch while I pack for CIM.
Think of me on Sunday. I'm hoping to break five hours. Hey! It would be a big deal for me. Don't you judge!
26 November 2011
Things I May Have Lied to Myself About
Marathons in 2012.
I told myself. I told my husband. I was firm. I was resolute. No marathons in 2012. I wanted a more relaxing year.
It is eight days before CIM. I'm in the middle of a taper. I only had to run three miles today. It felt odd to only be out for three miles. Why even bother getting laced up and stuff?
I'm planning on at least three half marathons in 2012: Oakland, SF, and Big Sur. That should be enough to keep me running and sane.
But it doesn't feel like enough. After all these weeks of training (like 30!), I don't know how I can go back to NOT training. But I suppose I can.
I'm flirting with a registering for a very pricey but very scenic 21 miler. I ran it in 2010. I could come back and try to beat my time. And since 21 miles does not equal a marathon, I will be keeping my word. What to do! What to do?
I told myself. I told my husband. I was firm. I was resolute. No marathons in 2012. I wanted a more relaxing year.
It is eight days before CIM. I'm in the middle of a taper. I only had to run three miles today. It felt odd to only be out for three miles. Why even bother getting laced up and stuff?
I'm planning on at least three half marathons in 2012: Oakland, SF, and Big Sur. That should be enough to keep me running and sane.
But it doesn't feel like enough. After all these weeks of training (like 30!), I don't know how I can go back to NOT training. But I suppose I can.
I'm flirting with a registering for a very pricey but very scenic 21 miler. I ran it in 2010. I could come back and try to beat my time. And since 21 miles does not equal a marathon, I will be keeping my word. What to do! What to do?
20 November 2011
2011 Big Sur Half Marathon Race Report
A better title may be Big Sur IV since this is my fourth time on this course. Plus it reminds me of Led Zeppelin.
BACKGROUND:
I signed up for this one the day registration opened. I've run it every year since 2008. It is sort of like my tradition. Big Sur Half 2008 was my first race ever; I'm sentimental in my own ways.
Then for some odd reason I registered for CIM back in August. My easy fall training for a half marathon suddenly changed to marathon training. The change to marathon training necessitated more weeks training. So I finished the SF Half Marathon as the end of July and immediately went into marathon training mode.
Essentially, I've been in training since May. I technically ran the Big Sur International Marathon in May. I'm tired. I have two more weeks until CIM. Taper weeks.
WEEK BEFORE THE RACE:
Most of the week was spent not thinking about the race. This race was NO WHERE on my radar. I packed the morning I left. I did not agonize. I did not make plans. I did not set goals. I was mostly looking forward to the five days that I have off from work. I think the prospect of vacation consumes my mental energy.
DAY BEFORE THE RACE:
I worried continually about the threat/promise of rain on race day.
Consequently, I could have been a nicer person.
RACE DAY:
Woke up. Got dressed. Headed to the race. Fretted about the rain and temp the entire time.
My husband insisted on taking a picture of me. Look.
Sartorially, I'm proud of the arm warmer glove combo. It was exactly what I would imagine it would be like to wear opera gloves to a race. The large sweat pants were a last minute grab at the local Target. I had forgotten the warm clothes to wear down to the race.
Here is the finished outfit look:
I look fantastic and ready for rain. More on the rain later.
I said goodbye to my husband and my son who ran off to the tunnel to get the tunnel picture. More on that in a bit. I found my corral and slipped into the back near the last minute. The more I do these races the less seriously I take them. I've decided that the back of the corral is the place to be. Moment of truth: I hate the chit chat that some people engage in during the first mile or two of a race. I'm misanthropic. Or maybe I'm just bummed that I do this stuff by myself. But honestly, I like running alone.
Announcer does his announce thing. I'm was glad that there was no Bart Yasso today. I had to endure the Yassoisms at Big Sur in April and at San Francisco in July. Announcers do the whole throwing questions/commands out to each corral. My favorite one: "How many of you are here celebrating a new job?" Little reaction. Followed by: "How many of you are here celebrating the fact that you still have a job?" Huge reaction.
Finally, I was off.
I suffered through some inane chatter behind me. I tried to run away, but they followed me. It made the first mile irritating, but the first mile is always irritating, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Quickly made it to the tunnel and spied my husband and son waiting for me. They got a great picture of my last year. Last year I was clad in a tank top and shorts. This year--the runner opera gloves over a long sleeve over a tank with crops. The threat/promise of rain had led me to over dress.
At least I look happy and relatively adorable. I ditched the opera gloves and rolled up my sleeves after the tunnel. And the rain soaked street made more a much more dramatic photo compared with last year's.
Seeing the two juxtaposed really highlights my need for routine and consistency. Ha.
So I ran, and I ran, and I ran. I enjoyed watching the faster people on their way back run past. Many men with nice legs appeared to be running in my general direction. That's good for a girl's self-esteem.
I ran up the hill in Pacific Grove and felt superior to those who walked it. I've earned that right.
Once I was running out by the sea, I was thankful for the long sleeved shirt. The wind was a bit chilly.
About halfway through my Garmin threatened to quit. I cursed it silently and sent a mental note to Santa for a new one. I turned on a Radiolab podcast and settled in for the second half.
One afro'd man in roller skates held a sign that said on one side "Work it Out!" and "You're the sh*t!" on the other. I could help but think of Kurt Vonnegut (may he rest in peace!) and wondered if the roller skating man was a Vonnegut fan.
I felt strong throughout the run. I ran a little faster than planned. I thought that I would run at my marathon pace, but I ended up running about 30 seconds a mile too fast. I tried to slow myself down at various times during the race. This is what leads me to believe that if I had tried, I could have PR'd this time around. But I am saving it all for CIM.
My favorite part was during the twelfth mile I was passed by not one but TWO Lieutenant Jim Dangles.
I chased them for a bit but they were too fast for me. The outfit included batons and handcuffs. I appreciated people who really commit to a joke.
I crossed the finish line. It started to rain immediately. Zeus must be a runner.
2:21:36. Second faster time ever. Not bad for a girl who wasn't trying.
REFLECTIVE END OF EPISODE VOICEOVER MOMENT: I'm not a fast runner; I'm a typical mid pack runner. While I appreciate (and ogle) the physical beauty of the elite male field, I was most inspired by those who clearly were struggling but pressed on. I'm often embarrassed by my times on these things because I feel like I could do better. I am improving, but I really am embarrassed by how slow I run. Yet I am in the middle. I think of those who are starting to exercise and signed up for this as a first half marathon. I am impressed by their courage. I am impressed by the courage it takes to sign up and be at the end of the pack. I wish more people understood that runners come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. I wish more people could come out and see this courage. This didn't seem to come out right at all. My heart is in the right spot.
Two runners died at or near the finish of the Philadelphia marathon today. If this makes news beyond running circles, I'm sure people will ask me why I run marathons and half marathons. I fear the news cycle will blow it out of proportion. My heart grieves for the families of the two runners. One was reported to have been 21 years old! I think, for me, running is about having the courage to try to push and shape myself. It is also about witnessing others try to do the same.
AFTERWARD: My husband likes watching the people at the races. We talked about the tutu clad ones. I may have taken his bait and said that I would run in a tutu at Oakland.
AFTERMATH: None. A half marathon after training for a marathon is not that hard--especially since I didn't really RRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCEEEE it.
Sweet.
Jeez. I just realized that I have to write another one of these in two weeks.
BACKGROUND:
I signed up for this one the day registration opened. I've run it every year since 2008. It is sort of like my tradition. Big Sur Half 2008 was my first race ever; I'm sentimental in my own ways.
Then for some odd reason I registered for CIM back in August. My easy fall training for a half marathon suddenly changed to marathon training. The change to marathon training necessitated more weeks training. So I finished the SF Half Marathon as the end of July and immediately went into marathon training mode.
Essentially, I've been in training since May. I technically ran the Big Sur International Marathon in May. I'm tired. I have two more weeks until CIM. Taper weeks.
WEEK BEFORE THE RACE:
Most of the week was spent not thinking about the race. This race was NO WHERE on my radar. I packed the morning I left. I did not agonize. I did not make plans. I did not set goals. I was mostly looking forward to the five days that I have off from work. I think the prospect of vacation consumes my mental energy.
DAY BEFORE THE RACE:
I worried continually about the threat/promise of rain on race day.
Consequently, I could have been a nicer person.
RACE DAY:
Woke up. Got dressed. Headed to the race. Fretted about the rain and temp the entire time.
My husband insisted on taking a picture of me. Look.
Sartorially, I'm proud of the arm warmer glove combo. It was exactly what I would imagine it would be like to wear opera gloves to a race. The large sweat pants were a last minute grab at the local Target. I had forgotten the warm clothes to wear down to the race.
Here is the finished outfit look:
I look fantastic and ready for rain. More on the rain later.
I said goodbye to my husband and my son who ran off to the tunnel to get the tunnel picture. More on that in a bit. I found my corral and slipped into the back near the last minute. The more I do these races the less seriously I take them. I've decided that the back of the corral is the place to be. Moment of truth: I hate the chit chat that some people engage in during the first mile or two of a race. I'm misanthropic. Or maybe I'm just bummed that I do this stuff by myself. But honestly, I like running alone.
Announcer does his announce thing. I'm was glad that there was no Bart Yasso today. I had to endure the Yassoisms at Big Sur in April and at San Francisco in July. Announcers do the whole throwing questions/commands out to each corral. My favorite one: "How many of you are here celebrating a new job?" Little reaction. Followed by: "How many of you are here celebrating the fact that you still have a job?" Huge reaction.
Finally, I was off.
I suffered through some inane chatter behind me. I tried to run away, but they followed me. It made the first mile irritating, but the first mile is always irritating, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Quickly made it to the tunnel and spied my husband and son waiting for me. They got a great picture of my last year. Last year I was clad in a tank top and shorts. This year--the runner opera gloves over a long sleeve over a tank with crops. The threat/promise of rain had led me to over dress.
At least I look happy and relatively adorable. I ditched the opera gloves and rolled up my sleeves after the tunnel. And the rain soaked street made more a much more dramatic photo compared with last year's.
Seeing the two juxtaposed really highlights my need for routine and consistency. Ha.
So I ran, and I ran, and I ran. I enjoyed watching the faster people on their way back run past. Many men with nice legs appeared to be running in my general direction. That's good for a girl's self-esteem.
I ran up the hill in Pacific Grove and felt superior to those who walked it. I've earned that right.
Once I was running out by the sea, I was thankful for the long sleeved shirt. The wind was a bit chilly.
About halfway through my Garmin threatened to quit. I cursed it silently and sent a mental note to Santa for a new one. I turned on a Radiolab podcast and settled in for the second half.
One afro'd man in roller skates held a sign that said on one side "Work it Out!" and "You're the sh*t!" on the other. I could help but think of Kurt Vonnegut (may he rest in peace!) and wondered if the roller skating man was a Vonnegut fan.
I felt strong throughout the run. I ran a little faster than planned. I thought that I would run at my marathon pace, but I ended up running about 30 seconds a mile too fast. I tried to slow myself down at various times during the race. This is what leads me to believe that if I had tried, I could have PR'd this time around. But I am saving it all for CIM.
My favorite part was during the twelfth mile I was passed by not one but TWO Lieutenant Jim Dangles.
I chased them for a bit but they were too fast for me. The outfit included batons and handcuffs. I appreciated people who really commit to a joke.
I crossed the finish line. It started to rain immediately. Zeus must be a runner.
2:21:36. Second faster time ever. Not bad for a girl who wasn't trying.
REFLECTIVE END OF EPISODE VOICEOVER MOMENT: I'm not a fast runner; I'm a typical mid pack runner. While I appreciate (and ogle) the physical beauty of the elite male field, I was most inspired by those who clearly were struggling but pressed on. I'm often embarrassed by my times on these things because I feel like I could do better. I am improving, but I really am embarrassed by how slow I run. Yet I am in the middle. I think of those who are starting to exercise and signed up for this as a first half marathon. I am impressed by their courage. I am impressed by the courage it takes to sign up and be at the end of the pack. I wish more people understood that runners come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. I wish more people could come out and see this courage. This didn't seem to come out right at all. My heart is in the right spot.
Two runners died at or near the finish of the Philadelphia marathon today. If this makes news beyond running circles, I'm sure people will ask me why I run marathons and half marathons. I fear the news cycle will blow it out of proportion. My heart grieves for the families of the two runners. One was reported to have been 21 years old! I think, for me, running is about having the courage to try to push and shape myself. It is also about witnessing others try to do the same.
AFTERWARD: My husband likes watching the people at the races. We talked about the tutu clad ones. I may have taken his bait and said that I would run in a tutu at Oakland.
AFTERMATH: None. A half marathon after training for a marathon is not that hard--especially since I didn't really RRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCEEEE it.
Sweet.
Jeez. I just realized that I have to write another one of these in two weeks.
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