I'm back.

Long time, no posts.

Again... Not so good at being a blogger. I'll work on it. Promise.

A little bit of catch up:

1. My leg is no longer broken (weeeeeeee!). I successfully graduated from my twice weekly physical therapy sessions, saw the orthopedist and got the all clear to hit the 'ol treadmill. So I have been doing just that since January and it's been swell.

2. I decided to train smart this year and mix up my work out routine. In other words, I'm not just going to run a bunch of miles every week and pretend that it is a total body workout. I've been frequenting at least three spin classes a week and signed up for Boot Camp Challenge - every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 5:30a. It's been lovely. Cross training in full effect.

3. I signed up for my first marathon (again) today! Yes, I signed up last year too... ::sigh::  After my euphoric feelings of elation for signing up for marathon2013 passed, I skipped to the gym and ran 5.5 joyous miles. And it felt damn good.

This time around I've opted to skip the formal training group and picked a 30 week training plan to ensure I make it to the start this year. Which is a key shift in my training focus. I'm actively trying to coax myself in being less concerned about the finish and more concerned about making it to the starting line in one, healthy, well trained and prepared piece.

Bring it, MoHudMarathon.

the dnf that wasn't.

In the middle of a busy week of summer and in the middle of my training, I needed to kick it up a notch and make sure I was actually sticking to "the plan". Following my 15+miler the previous week I was supposed to scale back a few miles with a goal of 13. I thought there was no better way to assure that I'd actually get my butt on the road (and not revisit the epic brunch of the previous weekend) than to sign up for a half marathon. A quick 13.1 around a lake in the morning would get my long run checked off my list early Saturday, leaving the rest of the weekend to play. I ran a 10K on the same course last year, so in addition to logging a long run and working on my half marathon time, I knew I'd be getting a good hill workout too - bonus.

The race started and it was muggy and drizzling, not exactly ideal, but the rain let up and it was no longer humid, just super hot. Luckily the route was well equipped with water stations and I had my fantastic fanny pack fuel belt for sips in between stations.

I was cruising to take about 20 minutes off my PR from my previous half. Around mile 7, I stopped for a water break, took a sip and then started to run again. Well... tried to start running again. Instantly I felt electricity from my leg shooting up towards my torso. I took it as a sign, slowed to a walk and stretched a bit as I kept moving forward.

I was losing my (solidly in the middle) "spot" and other runners were beginning to pass me, so I ended my walk break and started to run. It wasn't so much of a run as a hop with one leg and drag the other. Not wanting to risk the marathon to injury, I knew it was time to quit and was okay with having "DNF" listed next to my name in the results. Luckily I was coming up on a water station, so I could stop and ask for a medic.

check this out for next year, Race Director
[source]

...Nope. The water station was there, but when I asked a volunteer for a medic or a car to take me to the finish I found out that there wasn't one. A medic or a car. [Sidebar: who the hell hosts a HALF MARATHON with no medic?? You shouldn't even have a 5K with no medic, but a half??]. After I asked to quit and realized I couldn't (short of taking a ride from a stranger on a quiet mountainous road around a lake), I wanted the race to be done as quickly as possible. So I got really good at the hop and drag method of moving my body forward with short interludes for walk breaks and pausing completely to unclench my jaw and wipe tears from my eyes.

As I was running/walking/wincing I was trying to diagnose myself. My ankle hurt and clearly wasn't working. I couldn't point my toes and extend my foot forward, nor could I flex my foot comfortably. Everything under the tendons on the outside of my ankle hurt. Every step felt like I was hitting bone on bone. I thought a sprain, but there wasn't any swelling and periodically the electric shock of pain would radiate from my ankle, something that didn't happen when I had previously sprained my ankle (doing yoga).

Before I knew it I had propelled myself to the water stop that marked mile 11. I stopped, began practicing what has to be equivalent to Lamaze breathing techniques and looked behind me. With 2 miles to go, if I kept up the 13-ish minute per mile pace I wouldn't finish last. So that was my last walk break and the final 2 miles were a countdown to the finish line with "it's going to be pretty embarrassing to see your name last on the results page - so move it" playing on repeat in my head.

Upon seeing my (smarter) runBFF at the finish line (she opted for the 10K), she instantly knew something was up based on my time alone. I told her the deal and she instantly ran to get a medic (I already told her there wasn't one on the course, but we thought they MUST have one at the finish) and some ice. Coming back alone and empty handed it was clear there was no medic and no ice. [Another sidebar: okay... no medic, ridiculous alone, but no medic and no ICE at the finish line???].  After a 15 minute wild goose chase for ice, I finally put some on my ankle and took my shoe off to wait for the swelling to begin. But it never did. It hurt, it was hot to the touch and I couldn't bear weight on it.

my finisher medal, because I wasn't allowed a DNF

Meandering back to the car to pop some ibprofin, people asked what happened (because who the hell would walk like that if they weren't hurt). I reported I had probably just rolled my ankle on gravel or something (not that I remember doing it) but wasn't sure as no one (qualified) was available to assess my injury. My fellow runners were also surprised to learn of the lack of medical care (take note for next year, fellow runners!) or even a first aid kit.

Oh! And the best part - I did not finish last (6th to last, but not last) and was only 3 minutes over my previous half marathon time. Win!

timesuck.

first double digit run of the training plan!

Long runs keep getting longer. I was excited at first. I hit nine miles, then ten miles, then eleven… Just as the long runs keep getting longer, the short ones do too. At the beginning of “the plan”, I was tasked with 3 mile short runs and 6 mile long runs – cake! Long runs were finished in about an hour and short runs accomplished in the time it took to watch an episode of Friends.

Gone are the good ‘ol days. I'm beginning to understand what fellow runners say when they reference training for a marathon is a selfish act. Last Sunday marked my longest run since my first half marathon in September 2011. Dreadfully Merrily I ran along for 12 miles, noshing on Sport Beans and taking exaggerated water breaks along the way. Halfway into my mileage, I looked down at my watch and thought “oh my god – I have another hour to go”. More time on the road translates into less time anywhere else, it’s logical, I suppose. The luxury of a quick run before dinner or work has morphed into an event requiring carrying a water bottle, planning a low traffic route and creating some new playlists.

My 8.5x11” Dictator calls for a long run of 15 miles this week. I’m guessing it will take around 3 hours. Does it make me a little nervous that there are still 11.2 miles to make it a marathon and I’ll only be 3 hours into it at 15 miles? Yep.

trail fail.

Wave Inspire 8 [source]

My favorite running store was hosting a trail run sponsored by Mizuno last week. So I did what anyone would do, enlisted runBFF to skip our team speed workout and go on a trail run and check out new Mizuno kicks. I wasn’t quite sure what was in store, but as I approached the group and noticed a shiny display table with 2 size runs of men's and women's  Wave Inspires, I realized you’d trade your shoes for a pair of sparkly new Mizunos to test-run. Not many things make me happier than new shoes, so I was instantly ecstatic.

All sporting new sneaks, the group made their way to the trail and took off (I guess it was more of a “start running” than a takeoff - speed is not my forte). The majority of the 2 mile loop I was focused on not tripping over limbs, rocks, roots, rouge squirrels or plunging down a rocky hill into the river; but when we had time to chat, runBFF and I were gushing over how great trail runs are. Mostly we focused on the lack of cars, cooler temps, change of scenery and how running specific loops near our homes make us want to jump off the rocky cliff into the river casually wondering “if we hurt ourselves do we get to keep the shoes?!” Something about running around in the trees and dirt is super fun, but all good things come to an end and we had to return the shoes.

So about the shoes. Loved them and will be buying a pair. I even got some good blister advice from the friendly Mizuno rep.

After we got our gross old sneakers back, it was clear 2 miles wasn’t worth the drive, so we ran the loop again. Chatting and frolicking, this girl got a little too relaxed around mile 3.5 and stopped looking down at the aforementioned limbs, rocks, roots, rogue squirrels and cliffs. Out of nowhere, this root lurched up, grabbed the front of my foot and took me down hard. I met the floor of the forest with a thud and was pretty sure I was rolling down a cliff to my demise. Realizing there were not any cliffs in sight, I looked up at runBFF who was standing (now that’s a girl with balance) waiting for the okay to laugh until she cried (I give her credit for waiting so long).

gross old shoes

Sitting up I was thanking my lucky stars that the group portion of the run was over, so I could sit in the dirt as long as I wanted testing my elbows, wrists and knees to make sure I wasn’t in need of any urgent medical attention. I don’t think I’ve fallen and scraped my knees (and hands, and wrists, and arms…) since I was probably 7 years old. Unfortunately I had given the shoes back already, because I totally could have bled on them for a pity pair. The battle wounds have been with me for a week and counting. The bruises on my legs are a new accessory that nicely compliments navy blue and purple components of my wardrobe.

I recently finished reading the trail running issue of Runner’s World. Some knowledgeable woman noted that if you’re going to run trails, you’re going to eat some dirt. Truth.

Trail: 1
Me: 0

race recap: boiling.

Runners weren’t the only ones who turned out for Boilermaker’12. Mr. Sun was there as well, gleaming in all his glory. Race time was 8am and it was 70 degrees with 87% humidity and no breeze. Awesome. Moving on to 10am, closer to the finish it made its way up to (77 still without a breeze). The numbers aren’t staggering and I’ve certainly experienced worse, but it was hot and disgusting. Thankfully there were nearly a million water stops, so one cup was for drinking, the other for wearing. By the end of the race it looked like I attempted to swim through a body of water in an ill fated short cut route.

just a few people at the start line [source]

Holy start line. It was just like any other start line…with 11,000+ people. Thankfully there was a great deal of porta-potties, but I still endured a 20 minute line (bonus: the “bathrooms” were clean! Win!). Once that nonsense was out of the way, runBFF and I moseyed to the start. We were assigned births by bib color and didn’t qualify to toe the line with the elite runners, so we navigated the crowd of gold bibs (the last color to start…) and made our way to a solid middle starting point. Having never experienced the race before, I thought the crowd seemed really nervous. In addition to the typical warm up runners (by the way, you have 9.3 miles to go… use mile 1 as your warm up you overachievers), there was actually a guy in the grass near the pack of people doing pushups and burpees (clearly he’s out of my league). Once the gun went off we stood still and waited. And waited some more. At one point the announcer said “just over 4 minutes in and they’ve completed mile one” – if hearing that doesn’t set you up for success, I don’t know what will.

Ten minutes after the gun went off and we finally crossed the line, I hit start on my Garmin and tried to focus less on staring at my feet and more on my surroundings. At the mile marker for .1 a lovely crowd of people assured us that the next 9.2 miles would lead to free beer; thanks. Right after mile 1 runBFF spotted a lone porta-potty dropped from the heavens and stepped aside. I vowed to stay to the right and I walked through most water/ice stops but we never caught back up with each other. I instantly regretted not bringing my iPod, but the crowd collectively said “don’t worry, we’ve got you covered” and threw a barrage of wildly entertainment my way. Some favorites:

• Middle aged belly dancers (yep)
• A donkey (I guess there were other zoo animals around too, but I only saw the donkey)
• The International Mile
• Bagpipes (I LOVE bagpipes)
• Cheerleaders
• The Zebra Ice Pack (ladies dressed in sassy zebra print while handing out ice)
• The guys that sang the bowling ball song (it goes like this “clean your balls, we’re going bowling")

Miles 1-5 ticked away a little too easily. It felt like a training run (but really hot) with a ton of water stops and families handing out freeze pops (my excitement couldn’t even be contained). And then a quarter through mile 6 I started complaining, took a walk break, took another walk break and was acting like a baby. I sucked it up and started mile seven as if I was actually in a race and not just out for a Sunday stroll. All said and done, I PR’ed my previous 15k time by more than 9 minutes (but less than 10…remember when I was walking in mile six? Yep. Me too.), so I was happy.

pint glasses always fit. race t-shirts? not so much.

Once I stopped having a panic attack about how I was going to find R in a sea of 20,000 people, I walked around the finish for a bit and eventually we bumped into each other. Luckily he was at the finish cheering for me (not that I saw him because I was intently focused on watching my feet at that point… the “look up” approach I started with in the beginning faded. After I traded my sneakers for flip flops to relieve a massive blister, we followed the crowd to the brewery where seemingly all of Utica was standing. We got water, beer, freeze pops and of course, the coveted goody bag containing super sweet pint glasses. After about half an hour, we were tired and hot, plus sweaty runners kept grazing R and I got beer spilled on my foot, so we called it quits on the post race party and walked to the car.

The early morning was worth it. The race was fantastic. The course was wonderfully challenging and anything involving freeze pops is a success in my book. I’ll be back next year and I’m vowing to sprint mile 6.

More awesome things at Boilermaker:

fly over view of one crowded post race party [source]

• The wheelchair race
• Sharing a course with elite runners (albeit nearly an hour after they went through)
• The winning male time was 43:01; female was 49:26
• The volunteers (more than 5,000 of them)
• Popsicles at mile 4.75
• Post race party
• High five from Senetor Chuck Schumer at the end
• Water stops galore
• The 14 people that ran the Boilermaker every single year since the beginning

destination: race.

Sunday I will be waking up a bit (two and a half hours) earlier than long run Sunday calls for to road trip it to Utica to participate in the 15K road race with 13,999 other people. Of those 13,999 others, many are elite runners from all over the globe (I’m pretty confident with all this speed work I’ll be right up there with the pack, so look for me in the finish line photos). Finishing a portion of the same route before I do will be 4,000 5K participants. This race has been on my list for a while, so I’m glad I was paying attention and signed up before the race quickly sold out (there was still snow on the ground when registration closed).

With 18,000 runners invading the city, throw in spectators, fans, friends and family – I personally apologize to the local residents for my part in turning their city upside down for the weekend. I’m thinking minus the detours, road blocks, ridiculous parking situations and people trampling their lawns, they enjoy it. I’ve been  told residents literally line every street of the 9.3mile course to cheer on the weary and tired (and with a forecasted temp of 84ᵒ there will be many) and pass out freeze pops (!!!) to those who want to pause for a treat (this had BETTER be true or I will be one unhappy camper) before heading to the massive post race party (who doesn’t love a post race party?) at The Matt Brewing Company (who doesn’t love a post race party at a brewery?). Oh. And instead of race t-shirts they give out pint glasses so you can enjoy all the brewery has to offer. Also promised is music, family fun events, recovery tents, an F-16 jet flyover, vendors and a lot of goodies. Although I’m pretty sure no one is heading to the Boilermaker specifically for their amazing recovery tents…

And now, a few key Boilermaker med tips:

• “No alcohol the night before the race.” - read: save yourself for the post race party.
• “Heat and humidity are your enemies. The higher they get, the slower you should run.” – Not true. Not if you’re Kenyan. For specific examples, please see the 2012 Boston Marathon results.

a definition of terms

Since I’ve forayed into this mystical world where I drag myself out of bed at 6:30am on Sunday mornings so I have enough time to walk the dog, brush my teeth and have my preferred pre-run breakfast of toast with peanut butter, I’ve noticed myself throwing around an awful lot of terms no one else cares about understands as they relate to my particular lack of athletic ability.

running: something that looks like running (sort of…) at a leisurely pace, probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 8:45 – 10:30 minutes per mile. Not breaking any world records here…

fueling: this is basically an excuse to eat pasta (example: dinner on Monday – tortellini; dinner on Tuesday – spaghetti; dinner on Wednesday – mac ‘n’ cheese; dinner on Thursday – pad thai; dinner on Friday – pasta salad).  This is also a great excuse to eat a ridiculous amount of pistachios in preparation for a post work run; all in the name of protein.

source

carb loading: not only can I have all of the pasta I want (because that is fueling), but I will add French fries as well.

marathon training plan: ah yes. The fantastic 8.5” by 11” page that details the next 18 weeks of my life, you know… the one that judges you harshly should you not obey it’s wishes completely? Yep.

training run: can refer to any time I hit the pavement. Example: I ran from my car to the mailbox – training run. I ran after the dog when I realized he wasn’t tied to the patio – training run. I ran to my car after work when it was hailing – training run.

long run: here is where the waking up at 6:30am on Sunday mornings comes into play. I’ll be up and at ‘em with my favorite gear on and eager to go. I’ll start off too fast and by mile 4 I can feel all the tiny bones in my feet and am complaining in my head about what a stupid idea this was.

recovery run: I will be outside. I will be running. But, I will be taking my sweet time because I feel like the miles logged on a long run were enough to carry me through the week.

rest day: this is where I excel. The glorious days when there is zero physical effort scheduled on the ‘ol training plan. Please find me by the pool and bring me some sangria.

speed work: not so speedy, but I try really hard with longer rest breaks in between bouts of “speed”.

PR (personal record): for me this typically involves being close enough to see the clock at the finish line and trying to coax my legs to turn over faster in an effort to shave precious seconds off my race time. Usually once I cross the finish line (saving maybe 5 seconds) I feel violently ill and instantly regret that "quick walk break" I had at water station number 2.

MP – marathon pace: ...maybe… possibly… I’ll be under 10 minutes per mile for the majority of 26.2 miles.

junk miles: these don’t exist. If I ran a mile, it counts.

...and so it began

source

As a child I have vivid memories of the dreaded physical fitness test in gym class (yes, they still have this). Each year was the same, the pushups and sit ups went fine, I excelled at the v-sit, the shuttle run was my favorite and I could even dangle on the pull up bar for a while. As the class gleefully made it through one circuit after another, our excitement was short lived as we all knew what was coming: the timed mile. As soon as the words escaped the gym teacher’s mouth I was plotting, scamming and scheming in my mind trying to figure out any way to be absent next class. I would have rather been anywhere than that track engaging in my “pre race” ritual of lacing up my sneaker and slouching my neon socks perfectly over my stirrup pants. 

Clearly I survived the torment of the gym as a child and today, I am training for my first marathon. I got over the dreaded timed mile somewhere in college when I would catch myself setting out for a jog around finals week or before a beach vacation. I would even get a few trail runs in during August where you could find relief from the heat under the dense pine trees of the park.

2010 Team Teagan volunteers

When my friend and co-worker began training for a half marathon with Team in Training, I noticed. I guess it never occurred to me that you could be running for a purpose or for fun. Listening to her talk about group runs, getting in hill and speed work and finding a new hobby was inspiring. Because she's awesome and is an overachiever, she took up the extremely ambitious task of appointing herself race director in an effort to help a local family with an ailing child. Team Teagan’s Annual 5K Benefit Run was born. 

On June 30^th, 2007 I completed my first 5K in support of Teagan, her family and the noble efforts of my fabulous friend. From that point on, I was hooked. Watching more experienced runners toe the line in their race day duds and snazzy sneakers would have been reason enough for me to jump on the bandwagon, but the support of the community and fabulous volunteers rallying around one family was amazing– I figured those crazy running people must have been a bunch of good eggs. I've continued to run in and volunteer at the race each year and they've proven me right.