Swimming

A bit over a month ago, after repeated attempts by a friend to get me to try swimming, I finally ran out of excuses and went swimming for the first time in a long, long time.  As I knew I would, but for unknown reasons didn’t want to admit, I really enjoyed it and since that first “lesson” back in November I’ve been back to the pool a few more times.

I’m still learning about proper technique for my stroke and breathing and kicking…and about a million other things that it seems like I have to remember while swimming…but I am looking forward to improving and getting more efficient. 

This morning I went to the pool by myself for the first time.  As I slipped in to the slightly cool water, I had to smile to myself:  I just couldn’t believe I was at the pool, preparing to swim laps at 5:45 in the morning.  My friend was right, as soon as I started swimming; I ended up loving it and look forward to going back each week.  Why did I resist this for so long?

I still don’t have a clue what I am doing and am rather intimidated / impressed by the other swimmers who seem to be able to swim lap after lap without pause.  Meanwhile, I am please with myself whenever I can string together two or three laps without (much of) a pause at the wall.  One day, I tell myself, one day that will be me. 

With various pauses and rests thrown in, I swam 36 laps this morning for a total of 900 meters.  Most sprint triathlons have a swim distance of 700 or so meters so I am rather encouraged by my swimming abilities this early in my learning. 

Yes, I’ll finally admit it, my interest is slightly intrigued by triathlons and one of my goals for 2011 is to complete my first triathlon.  New year, here I come!

Daily Dozen:

Swimming, 36 laps

Run to and from pool, less than 2 miles

A good run, a realization and a new goal

This is my fourth attempt at following a marathon plan with specific types of runs – tempo, marathon pace, intervals, etc.  Once again, I have discovered that this type of training just isn’t for me. 

I get discouraged when I can’t hit the paces I am supposed to hit and always end up injured.  However, for my first marathon, I followed a plan that simply had me running miles and it is the only training plan that I have been able to feel successful at following.  I knew what to run that day and I just did it without much further thought.  Plan says 5, run 5.  Plans says 16, run 16. Just get the miles done. 

And I was able to get the miles done.  And, it was actually a confidence builder to succeed at the plan.  Lately, I just seem frustrated at myself for not being able to improve and succeed at specific speedwork. 

I want to get back to that feeling I had during my first round of marathon training:  the feeling of pride and wonder as I discovered each week what new mileage milestones my body was capable of hitting.  I want to go back to a time when I didn’t think twice about race pace or worry about running the race faster than last time. 

My new goal for Charleston is to run a strong race.  What strong means will depend on the day.  I want to have fun out there.  I don’t want to run a strong race and then feel down about it because it doesn’t meet the time expectation I foolishly set for myself.  If I run a sub-4 hour marathon, great.  If I PR, wonderful.  If I run my strongest race and it is 30 minutes slower than I planned, I want that to be fine as well. 

Today, rather than run the prescribed speedwork – 2 x 4 miles at MP, with .5 recovery – I went out for a long pre-work run listening to an All Songs Considered podcast.  I decided to run faster whenever there was a song playing and then slow it down when there was talking.  The pressure of hitting a specific pace on a cold, windy morning (and being disappointed and so frustrated in myself that I quit running) wasn’t part of my run.  I ran the “fast” pace that felt good and have no idea what that means in numbers. 

I ended the run with a smile on my face, feeling confident and strong.  Boy, that sure felt good, I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow. 

Daily Dozen

9.5 miles

XT in gym @ lunch hour

Snow Run

Yesterday it snowed for much of the day and the snow stuck around overnight. The first half of my run to work is on bike paths, which do not get plowed or cleared (not that I am complaining) so I was crunching over new snow patches, following bike treads and the tracks of other runners, and trudging uphill using short, choppy steps because the snow made running more like trail running on sand. It definitely got my heart rate up and gave me a good workout.

One of my favorite things about running in the snow is that things just look prettier after a snow fall. I took these two photos on the run in to work (excuse the blurriness and low quality – running and taking pictures with my phone is not one of my strengths):

Here’s a pink sunrise seen through the clouds.

I took this photo while I was running over the Roosevelt Bridge into DC. This shot doesn’t do the view of the iced-over Potomac with Georgetown and the bridges in the background justice.

While running, really it felt more like slogging by the end, on the snowy bike path was a fun challenge, it made running on the sidewalks in DC feel even better. Once I hit the flat, snow-free sidewalks I instantly sped up and running felt nearly effortless.

Daily Dozen:
6.5 miles run to work

A Running and Writing Funk

It was a month ago that I ran the Veteran’s Day 10K and I have been in a bit of funk ever since. Deciding to run home from the race proved to be a bad idea and I didn’t recover from that weekend very well. My paces have been off (think 11:30 to 12:30 pace…that’s slower than when I started running four years ago) and I just haven’t been excited about running.

Perhaps the most important factor of this running funk is that my confidence has reached a low point. What am I doing? Why do I care if I can run a marathon, let alone, in under 4 hours? What’s the point of running if I am going to feel like this?

Let me be clear: it wasn’t the slower paces, necessarily. I was putting all my effort in to faster paces – paces that felt as fast as the ones I had been hitting (somewhere in the mid- to low 9 minute mile range) and then I look at my watch and see 10:55. I was frustrated that I knew I had been running faster paces and that the effort didn’t seem to be paying off. Why push so hard for something that was nearly two minutes slower than I was capable of a month ago?

Anyway, I missed some runs. I got discouraged mid-run a few times and just stopped, opting to walk home and grumble than finish a run that felt horrible. But, that would only frustrate me further. Something needed to change.

I started to ignore the speed workouts and just go out for miles. I told myself it didn’t matter how fast or slow I was as long as I was out there getting the miles, everything would be OK. I even turned off the mile split feature on my Garmin. If I’m working hard and I feel like I am putting in a solid effort, I didn’t want to get discouraged if my actual pace didn’t match my perceived effort. In fact, I didn’t want to know until the run was over.

These things have worked. I’m feeling, and more importantly, running much better. My 16 miler over the weekend went well and the 20 miler the weekend before was also a solid effort.

The real take home lesson for me is that structured speedwork just isn’t for me. Tempo runs done by feel (run “comfortably hard”) and fartlek runs (run every time a song is one during the All Songs Considered podcast) work better than specific interval sessions (run 1 mile at marathon goal pace three times with half mile recovery). Not hitting the paces that I think I am supposed to be hitting just frustrates me.

Not to get too mushy but running is supposed to make me feel good about myself not make me beat myself up for not meeting expectations.



Daily Dozen:
XT @ lunch

Veteran’s Day 10K – A Race Report

Or, a lesson in how to overdo it.

Who knows where thoughts come from?  They just appear. 

Sometime on Saturday, I decided that I was going to run to the race on Sunday.  I could have ridden my bike or taken the metro, although that would have been cutting it close since the race started at 8 and the metro didn’t open until 7:30.  I thought back to the GCF Half Marathon last November and thought, What the heck?  Why not?

The few problems with this idea – this race being a time trial to judge my current fitness during this marathon cycle and that weekend’s schedule being a cutback week in terms of my overall training schedule, to name a few – didn’t seem to deter me.  I rationalize them out of existence, telling myself that with my left shin bothering me I probably wasn’t going to get a PR or have a good time trial so why not get some more miles on my feet since I missed a few runs last week. 

Plus, how bad ass is it to run 5.5 miles to a race, race it and then run back!

I woke up Sunday morning, got dressed and ready for the race, ate a banana, drank a glass of water, and headed out the door with a bagel in hand to munch on as I ran.  As I ran through the quiet Arlington streets I wondered how many people noticed me running by with a bagel in one hand and a race bid pinned to the front of my shirt and wondered what I was up to. 

I made it to West Potomac Park, about 5.5 miles from the house, in exactly 1 hour.  Not overly speedy but definitely a good warm up.   As I ran I questioned whether I was going the right thing?  Whether I should even shoot for a PR (faster than 8:19 pace)?  Maybe I should just enjoy the crisp fall weather and be happy with that?   If I didn’t get a PR, would that mean a sub-4 marathon was out of reach?  I hate that I have been so full of doubt this past week but Sunday, before the race, was not the moment I would shake that monkey off my back. 

Eventually, we lined up at the start line and before too long the race was underway.  I decided to run what felt like a fast 10K pace and let the first mile decide my approach to the rest of the race.  If my pace over the first mile was anywhere near 8:20, I’d shoot for a PR.  If it wasn’t, then I would just find a relaxing but quick pace and put all thoughts of PR times out of my head. 

As always, people were passing me constantly even and I am getting much better at letting that happen.  I no longer feel the urge to try to keep up with the people shooting out of the gate, confident that I’ll see them again before too long.  The first mile felt like it was taking forever but I eventually passed the first mile marker and hit the lap button on my watch.

I was pleasantly surprised to see 8:28.  Well, that is sort of close to an 8:19 PR pace and even though 9 seconds seemed like a long time to make up over the remaining 5.2 miles, the pace gave me the confidence to try.  Just a pick up the pace a little bit, I told myself.

Mile 2 ticked off in 8:18.  Well, that is more like it.  If I can just stay with this pace for the next 4 miles or so, I wouldn’t be far from my PR.  I started to focus on just making it to the turn around and before I knew it I hit Mile 3 with an 8:11 mile.  As it turned out, I made up those 9 seconds pretty easily.

I swung around the turn around and headed back “home.”  That’s what I tell myself on out-and-back long runs after getting to the turn around spot – “Now, I just have to make it home.  Just gotta get home.  That’s it.” 

It was also at this point in a race that I expect to stop seeing so many people passing me and to start picking off all those people who started off too fast and zoomed by me in the beginning of the race.  However, this wasn’t happening.  People were still zooming by me and I felt like I wasn’t gaining on anyone.  In fact, it started to discourage me and I started questioning my decision to run to the race.

What was I thinking?  I’m fading 3 miles in to a 10K!  Stupid. Stupid.  Stupid.

Mile 4 was not an easy mile but I told myself to just relax in to the pace.  If my pace dropped below 8:19, I told myself it was OK to let the PR go and not try to push myself to accomplish something that was out of reach.  I ended up running an 8:18 that mile even though I felt like my pace had slowed significantly and that people were passing me with ease.  I couldn’t quite give up on the PR so I pushed Mile 5, just to see what I could do at that point. 

It turns out I could run an 8:08 mile for Mile 5.  With 1.2 miles to go, I started to doing the math – if I stayed on this pace, if I didn’t let up for even a second, I just might be about to squeak in a PR but it would be close.  I ran harder.

Before seeing the sign for Mile 6 – Where it is?  Where is it? – I saw the finish line ahead of me.  All I had to do was run to it.  It seems to simple and easy.  Mile 6.  I hit the lap button on my watch but didn’t even look down.  Just run to the finish.  Keep pushing.  Stay strong.  Just run!

It turns out Mile 6 was my fastest mile at 8:06 and I covered the final .2 miles in 1:32 minutes for a 30 second PR at the 10K distance.  My official time was 51 minutes 5 seconds.  I couldn’t believe that after putting over 5 miles on my legs and claiming it was a warm up once again resulted in a strong PR.  I felt great.  Tired.  Out of breath.  But great. 

I was the 188^th woman to cross the finish line and 58^th in my age group. 

I grabbed an apple, a banana, a water and two cookies and sat down to stretch as I cheered on the rest of the people finishing the race.  After scarfing all that down, I had to make a decision, am I really going to try to run home?  My legs felt heavy but they didn’t hurt.  I was definitely tired but I wasn’t exhausted.  I decided to give it a try, sticking close to the metro line so that I could jump on if I needed to.  I ended up running all the way home, (except for the last 3 blocks but only because Mike happened to drive by so he gave me a ride home). 

I paid for it the next few days – the most sluggish, cement-legged run ever on Monday and more shin pain on Tuesday and today – but I still enjoyed it.  Honestly, I can’t say I won’t do it again.

Pros:

• Convenient-ish location
• Great time of year to race in DC and pretty location along the river
• Good organization
• Cookies!

Cons:

• A bit crowded (not for most people, especially for a DC race but this is just a personal preference)

To Run or Not to Run

Well, that is the question, isn't it?

Last week was a great week of running.  I ran for 52 miles total and during/after each run I felt strong and confident.  I was hitting the right paces on the faster runs and the easy runs felt east.  My long run on Sunday was a little under pace but I finished the 16 miles feeling like I had really accomplished something.

This week, however, hasn't been as great.  Tuesday, I went out to do some interval work at marathon pace and noticed that my left shin was hurting.  The pain was causing me to limp slightly so I made the decision to skip the run, thinking that maybe I'd try again the next day.  When I got up Wednesday the sharp pain was no longer there but it was feeling a bit tender so I went ahead with the planned rest day.  I ended up doing quite a bit of walking so I didn't feel too bad about skipping the speedwork for the week.

Thursday I did a 7 miler that was OK.  It wasn't a great run but it also wasn't a bad run.  My shin was feeling OK during and after the run; however, when I went down to the gym in the afternoon if started to hurt sharply again.  Uh oh!

So, what do I do?  I decided to get a good night's sleep and see how I felt in the morning.

Today, Friday, I planned to run to work.  Saturday is to be a rest day.  Sunday I have signed up for a 10K in order to judge my current fitness and see if a sub-4 marathon is in sight.  On the one hand, Sunday's race is important from a mental aspect.  It'll be a tremendous boost to run a great time for the 10K and know that my speed is there for the sub-4 attempt in a few months.  However, this isn't a goal race so I am a little nervous about taking another day off during the training cycle.

I woke up convinced I was going to run.  By the time I made it downstairs, I had decided not to run.  I think I'm being smart about a small injury so that it doesn't turn in to a larger injury but that doesn't keep the doubts at bay - What am I doing?  Who do I think I am attempting to run sub-4?  I'm not a fast runner!  Why is a sub-4 time so important?  I'm just not made for running fast.  I should just run Charleston for fun - slow and fun.  I can't do this so why try?

It is hard no to lose sight of the big picture (I was running strong going in to this marathon training cycle, I've been running strong up until now.  One bad week, a few missed runs - not that big a deal) when the immediate view feels so all encompassing (oh my god, I'm injured, when will I ever be able to run again.  Probably never.  Why is this happening to me?).  However, one missed run, one very mild case of shin splints isn't going to make or break me as a runner so I might as well enjoy the extra rest and start focusing on Sunday's PR attempt at the 10K.

Confidence and strength, not fear, that's the lesson I want to learn during this training cycle.

Long Runs: Progression Style

To me, long runs have always meant getting out there and hitting a certain distance goal no matter how long it took me.  Twenty miles?  No problem, I’ll just run out for 10 miles, turn around and run back home:  slow and steady the whole way.  That is, until now. I am taking a different approach to my long runs during this marathon training cycle.  

The plan I’ve put together for the Charleston Marathon in January (and my first attempt at running a marathon in under 4 hours) incorporates Progression Long Runs.  With 40 minutes left in the run, I am incrementally picking up the pace over the last four miles until the last mile hits my goal marathon pace (roughly 9 minutes per mile).  Knowing what certain paces feel like and being able to hit certain paces is not one of my strengths as a runner so I am not going to be getting too hung up on numbers.  Rather, my goal is to be able to hit the distance goal for the day and still be able to pick up the pace at the end to get somewhere in the vicinity of 9 minute miles.

Saturday was my first attempt at a progression long run – 13 miles with the last 4 getting close to goal marathon pace.  It was a gorgeous morning for a run.  The air was crisp and on the chilly-side but the sun was shining and there was promise that the temperatures would rise to be more comfortable. 

I headed out for a relatively flat 6.5 miles before turning back for home.  As I passed the four mile mark on the way out, I mentally checked off the location and told myself, when you run by here on the way home it’ll be time to pick up the pace.  I hit the turn around point and then headed back toward that spot (and home). 

I actually found myself looking forward to hitting the 9 mile mark (4 miles on the way out) and picking up the pace.  It made the long run seem a bit shorter, having something other than the end to focus on.

My Garmin beeped at the Mile 9 mark and I picked up my pace.  “Just a smidge faster,” I told myself.  I always have trouble hitting race paces when I’m not actually racing so I wasn’t expecting much.  I told myself not to be disappointed if I couldn’t find a faster pace and to just be happy if I was under a 10 minute pace.  I was pleasantly surprised to see my Mile 10 pace at 9:02.

Okay!  But back off just a little bit.

Mile 11 was 9:08 and I was surprised to still feel good.  I felt like I was running only slightly faster than easy pace.  Miles 12 and 13 would have some hills and I expected to slow down (and gave myself permission to have a slower pace).  I ran these two miles in 9:18 (bigger, longer hill) and 9:10.  It was a reverse of what I intended but still better than I expected. 

I felt great at the end of the run and not just because of the successful progression run.  I felt like I could have run further and most importantly, I felt comfortable running at a pace close to goal marathon pace after running with 9 miles already on my legs.  When it comes to running faster and increasing my race paces, I think that one obstacle for me can be confidence.  I’m afraid to run fast – my legs feel like lead, my lunges are burning, I can’t breath, I’m huffing and puffing, and most importantly my mind is telling me to shut it down, running slower just feels better in the long run.   I want to learn how to shut my brain off. 

I think my faster race times recently have shown me that I can run faster and that there is nothing to be afraid of when I stretch my running abilities.  Saturday’s long run gave me another great confidence boost.

I celebrated with a hot mug of hot chocolate (made with milk, I call that my recovery drink!) and an ice bath. 

Daily Dozen:

9 mile run to work

Push-ups, walking and stretching @ lunch hour

Picking a Training Plan

I’ve run 5 marathons.  I’ve used 5 different training plans:  Hal Higdon’s Novice for the Shamrock Marathon, Hal Higdon’s Intermediate I for Marine Corp, my own plans for Vermont City (focusing on longer, long runs w/ 5 days of running per week) and Nashville (focusing on hills with 6 days of running each week).  Bob Potts was just a retreat, recovery and hope for the best sort of plan. 

After a few years of trying my hand at creating a plan, with some limited success, I decided to find something a bit more structured since I have the specific goal of running a sub-4 marathon in Charleston n January. 

I found a plan on Runner’s World that is only 12-weeks and focuses on speed.  I know I can go the distance.  Now, it is a question of can I go the distance faster?  We will find out.

Marathon training started today with a 9 mile run.  I ran to work, taking a longer way past Arlington National Cemetery over to the Thomas Jefferson Memorial and then up the National Mall to the Capitol before swinging over in to Chinatown. 

I am excited about this plan and I felt strong on this morning’s run.  I’m looking forward to seeing where the speedwork takes me this go ‘round.

Daily Dozen:

8.86 miles run to work

Push-ups and walk @ lunch time

Race Report: Jonas Cattell Ten Miler 2010

This is the third year I ran this race (second year I finished). This race is never one of my goal races but rather one I just run for fun because of a family tradition. That said, each time I’ve lined up, I always have the time 1:20:00 in the back of my mind. That time is the fastest time anyone in my family has run this race and one day I’d love to beat that time. Sunday was not that day.

It was a nice fall day – sunshine but a little on the chilly side – but I could have done without the wind. Windy conditions are about the only weather I can say I “hate” running in. Rain and snow can be fun. With the right running clothes both cold and hot can be overcome. Hats were made to block the sunshine. However, there is nothing you can do about the wind and it seemed that not matter which way we headed Sunday, the wind was headed straight toward me.

We started the race and I felt alright. Racing/running in the afternoon isn’t my favorite; it just isn’t the time of day that I prefer. I fought the urge to chase people down as they paced in the first mile and told myself that I’d have my revenge eventually. “Push not too hard” was what I kept telling myself.

For the first two miles we ran down a nice tree-lined street. I found my groove by mile 2 and told myself not to let any more people pass me at that point. I also told myself to hold off on chasing anyone down; “just keep it steady, B.” I ran those two miles in 17:16.

By Mile 3 we are heading out of the tree-lined town and hitting some more hills. I’m able to sail up the hills without much pause and even started passing some people as I made my way through Mile 4 in 17:24. I’m running a little slower than I had hoped so I give myself permission to start chasing people down.

I hit the halfway mark with an 8:06 Mile 5. Now that is more like it. I sipped/chocked down a gulp of water from the aid station, zoomed past three women I had my eye on and picked my pace just a smidge in order to ensure that I stayed ahead of them.

Mile 6 came up quick but I was a little surprised to see that my pace for that mile was 9:18. I felt like I had kept it even but I guess not. I made it my goal to hit the 7 mile mark in 1 hour but with that slower Mile 6 I knew I probably wouldn’t make it. As we approached Mile 7, I was surprised to look down and see 1:00:52 on my watch. If the Boston Qualifying times can give you an extra 59 seconds to make the cut-off then I’ll take those 52 seconds and consider it a 1 hour 7 miler.

The one hour mark was important because I knew I had hit that mark last year at the 7 mile marker and I wanted to be ahead last year’s time. It was at this point that I knew I was going to have a tough time beating last year’s time of 1:26:44. If I ran the remaining 3 miles at a 8:30 pace, I could do it but I was getting tired and even when I made the next turn, the wind was still blowing right in my face.

The final three miles was a straight shot with some small hills as we approached the stop lights. I had my eye on two women ahead of me. One, in a white top wasn’t that far ahead of me and I knew I could pass her in the next mile and the second was in a blue top and seemed very far away. I picked it up and passed white-top-woman and told myself to just settle in and not let anyone pass me – blue-top-lady was just too far ahead. However, as we made our way passed Mile 8, which was a 9:20 mile, I knew I needed to dig deep and pick it up if I wanted to beat last year’s time.

Oddly, I started to feel great. It was the only time during the race that I felt like my pace clicked. I was cruising along and blue-top was getting closer and closer. At first I told myself it was too early to kick but as she got closer to me I knew I didn’t want to rein myself in. I just let it go and smoothly ran past her. The next runner was barely a speck in the distance that I didn’t have a prayer of catching. I told myself to think of blue-top lady as the #3 female runner and I just had to stay ahead of her if I wanted to place. I have no idea what my ranking is among all the other women out there and had no idea then but it worked and gave me a fun motivation to keep pushing.

I hit Mile 9 with a 7:30 mile. It was my fastest mile all race and I knew that pace wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) last. I just hoped that I could hold on long enough to get across the finish line before blue-top lady kicked it in. I couldn’t feel my legs getting heavy and for the first time during the race my breathing was getting very heavy. I knew I had better get my butt across the finish line soon.

Finally, I saw it – at first, just a speck in the distance – and then I got closer and closer. I didn’t dare look behind me for blue-top because even if she was right behind me trying to kick past me I didn’t have anything in me to fight her off. I didn’t want to know. Finally I saw the clock and it read 1:25 something. Just push, I told myself. Come on – 1:25 something is at least a whole different number than 1:26 something.

There really wasn’t anything left in me. I came across the line was an 8:47 final mile, with a recorded final time of 1:26:10. I’ll take those 30 seconds. A PR is a PR. I was the 36th person to cross the finish line.

Once again, it was a fun race because I got to run with my family and hang out with the family again. The second place finisher for Females 25-29 was a nice touch.

Pros:
Nice day for running (even though it was windy)
Plenty of subs/food/water/Gatorade at the end

Cons:
No chip timing
Course is open to traffic (I nearly got squished by an RV making a right-hand turn)

Race Report: Northfield Savings Bank Flying Pig Footrace

Last Saturday, while in Vermont visiting my parents, I ran the 33rd Annual Northfield Savings Bank Flying Pig Footrace with my mom. I was excited and proud to be running in the same race with her but she insisted that I run my own race and then come back for her. I begrudgingly accepted my mom’s orders even though my legs were exhausted from hiking Camel’s Hump the day before and I would have gladly slowed my pace to run with her.

 

Saturday ended up being a great day for a race: bright, sunny (although some clouds did roll in just at the start but then just as quickly disappeared again), cool weather. Ask any one of the Vermonters I was racing with and they’d argue that last point since it was supposed to get up in to the 70s that day.

 

We walked down to Northfield’s Village Common, where the race would start and end, about an hour early to watch the kid’s 1-mile race. Watching the kids take off at the starting line, eager, smiling and determined faces, was fun. The kids did not disappoint and put in a great race effort with the first one (a girl, no less) coming across the line in just over 6 and half minutes (a mile time, I’d never be able to hit now!).


After watching the kids finish their race, we walked over to the bank and got our bibs and t-shirts. The t-shirts are really great with an awesome picture of a flying pig on the back. It is definitely one of the most fun cotton race t-shirts I’ve ever received.

 

We were called to the start line and took off, immediately up hill for approximately one-third to half a mile. On the plus side, starting up in a race is a great way to guarantee that you don’t go out too fast and I love running up hills. On the negative side, it can be a little discouraging to start out a 5K already out of breath and tired. I didn’t push too hard up the hill, letting people stream past me. I told myself to just be patient because I’d soon be passing them.

 

As we hit the top of the hill and the course flattened out, I picked up the pace and told myself, “push, it’s only three miles; it’ll be over before you know it.” My 3 mile PR is 24:xx minutes and I think I could have taken a shot at the record had I not hiked the day before and if the race hadn’t started on an incline. However, those are the circumstances of this race so I told myself that plan A was get in under 26 minutes and plan B was to at least run it under 30 minutes. I was feeling surprisingly well as I started to push the pace at the top of hill and thought, maybe I could get close to the PR.

 

 

The course took us up to the edge of the Norwich University campus before turning back toward the Village Common, crossing within 50 yards of the finish line, circling across and along the Dog River before turning back toward the Village Common and the finish line.

 

I hit mile one in 8:06 and definitely felt good. I thought I could aim for sub-8 one the next mile so I picked it up just a hair. As I was heading down hill, toward Village Common the first time, I let gravity take over and sped down it, passing a woman in a bright blue t-shirt. Nothing remarkable about that as I was passing loads of people but I would remember her later. Not long after crossing the Dog River, along Water Street, which had little shade and the sun had come back out, I started to slow. My legs were tired. Uh oh.

 

Up to that point, I had been focusing on catching the person in front of me, passing them and then picking out my next victim. Now, it was just a matter of survival. I told myself, “just hang on, I was almost to Mile two and the turn around, just don’t let anyone pass.” But the turn around was a long time coming and I knew I was in some trouble. I hit the second mile in 8:12.

 

A PR was out of the question but I could still eke in under 26 minutes if I just kept up the pace.

 

Luckily after the turn around, I had something to distract me from the cement-like legs – I knew I would pass-by mom. I looked and looked. Nope, that’s not her. Oh, that could be…nope not her. Oh wait, there she is. And there she was, coming down the street, head down a little, a little red in the face but still moving forward. She perked up when she saw me and me high-fived. “Go Momma!!” I shouted. It was one of my favorite race moments ever (beaten, of course by the banana hand-off from my first marathon).

 

Well, now I had to finish this race, no more distractions just one foot in front of the other and repeat as quickly as possible. Just as I spotted to turn up ahead, I heard someone getting closer and closer, both their footfalls and their breathing. It didn’t sound good and I really wanted to hold them off but I just couldn’t find any pep in my legs and I knew I wanted to save a little bit for the kick to the finish line. That’s when blue-shirt passed me.

 

“Argh” I wanted to scream. I had thundered past her on the downhill and here she was, slow and steady coming back. For a second, I thought about just running all out, screw the kick at the end, but my legs weren’t interested in responding. I had found a groove and they didn’t want to go any faster. A little disappointed, I let her go without a fight and just focused on getting to the finish.

I made the final turn, a tiny up and over the bridge and gave it my all toward the finish line. I couldn’t find any speed to pass anyone but I finished strong and it felt good. To my surprise, the clock read 25:34 as I crossed the finish line. I thought I had slowed more than that on the last 1.1 miles (total 9:15) but I had managed to hold on for a sub-26 finish.

 

I quickly, grabbed some water, waved at my dad and Mike and then started back for Mom. I really wanted to run part of the race with her. I met up with her with about a quarter mile to go and ran it in with her. She said she was tired and that this was tougher than she thought it would be. Regardless, I was so proud of her as we ran in to the finish line. “This is my MOM!” I wanted to shout. Of course, I didn’t shout that but I couldn’t contain my smile and hoped that it was good enough to show everyone how happy I was to run that race with her.

I ended up finishing 67th overall and 8th in my age group with an official time of 25:33 an average pace of 8:14.

 

 

Great race. Great company. Great day. Thanks Mom! xoxo

 

Pros:

• Great (cotton) t-shirt
• Cool weather (for a Virginian)
• Fun festivities before and after
• Great small town race

 

Hike: Camel’s Hump Summit via the Monroe Trail, Vermont

“Well, this mountain kicked my ass.” Those are the words my little brother, Dan muttered as we finally neared the summit of Camel’s Hump Mountain. After nearly two hours of steep incline, a few rock scrambles and more tree roots than I can count we were finally getting close to the end of the 3.75 mile trail to the top of the mountain. It was, indeed, a tough climb to the top and it was a relief to know that the end was in sight…well, sort of.

At about 12:30 in the afternoon, my little brother, SCAMP (the dog), Mike and I started our hike up to the top of Camel’s Hump, the third largest mountain in Vermont, part of the Green Mountains and perhaps that state’s most distinctive peak. We were all looking forward to a nice hike to the top of the mountain. Although we should have known it would be tough, we were walking up a mountain after all, we really didn’t know what we were getting ourselves in to as we started out on a single track dirt trail.

We quickly fell in to three separate hiking patterns: Mike hiking ahead with SCAMP, Dan not far behind and me bringing up the rear. The trail went up, up, up relentlessly and we took a break for water and to catch our breath when the trail intersected with the Dean Trail.

At this point, we fell in to a new routine: Mike still hiking ahead with the dog, Dan ambling along the trail and me some where in the middle attempting to keep up with Mike and the dog without losing track of Dan. One of the things I love about hiking is that it satisfies my contradictory desire to be both alone and with our people. As we hiked we did very little talking, we weren’t even in sight of one another for a majority of the time, and yet, I loved that we shared this experience.

Most people would think that hiking up a mountain, being constantly out of breath and having to scramble up and over rocks sounds like a form of punishment or torture but I love it. Getting to the top of a long trail up a mountain is a uniquely satisfying feeling. It is filled with triumphs (yay, I made is to the top of this climb) and moments of renewed determination (but I have miles more to go). There are rewards – a sudden clearing of the trees at a beautiful vista of the mountains surrounding you – and moments of quiet reflection as you walk through a forest that has been around longer than you can imagine.

This hike did not disappoint in any of these regards. There were very few switchbacks up this mountain, just a relentless incline through the forest and over the rocks and roots. Most of the time we were under tree cover, which kept us relatively cool, but there were a few spots where we out in the sun. It was actually a pleasant day for hiking (I know most Vermonters would probably say it was hot since it was up in to the 80s but considered there was little humidity and that all I’ve had for the past few weeks is to sticky, gross upper-90s in DC, I thought the temperature was refreshing).

Nearing the top of the mountain and just over three miles, we started to keep our eyes out for the short side trail that would take us to the wing of a B-24J bomber. In 1944, during World War II, the bomber was out on a training run and crashed in to the mountain. The plane (and the several crew members who died) was eventually recovered with the exception of the wing which sits just off the Monroe Trail.

The wing has weathered the 60-plus years on the mountain well but it seems so out of place in this setting. It is definitely one of the most unusual things I’ve encountered out on a hike.

Not long after the seeing the wing, we finally reached the alpine zone and the summit. It was a relief to finally reach the top; we were tired of going up. I was surprised by two things at the top of the mountain: 1) at some point during the hike, the clouds had rolled in and it was overcast and 2) it was super windy. As a result, it felted like we had hiked out of one day and in to another.

Following a hike description we found online, we decided to hike the Long Trail down the mountain, hook up with the Dean Tail after about a mile and then get back on the Monroe Trail a bit under 2 miles from the trail head. As it turned out, this ended up being a bit of a misstep on our part. Since everyone was exhausted from the trip up we probably should have just stayed on the Monroe Trail, retrace our steps back to the start. However, we decided to brave the unknown.

This section of the Long Trail ended up being quite difficult. There was a great deal more rock scrambling and one point we even had to carry the dog over a section of rock. It was a tough hike down because of the steepness and the fact that we weren’t sure we were on the right trail at one point, plus it took us longer to climb down that we anticipated so there were some tense moments before we finally popped out on the Dean Trail and then saw the sign for the Monroe trail and the parking area.

Despite the exhausting climb down (oh man, my quads were toast from the climb up so they were nearly shot for all the downhill stuff), I think the Long Trail portion would have been an awesome climb up. It would have been steeper and tougher, with more hands and knees rock scrambling but it would have been fun to tackle those sections with fresher legs.

We finally made it back to the trail head, all four of us completely spent. It was a fun hike and I highly recommend it for anyone who’s in good hiking shape. I’d love to do it again.

Deceptively Active

I enjoy finding new ways to be active, especially when they don’t feel like exercise. Going for an evening walk or bike ride around the neighborhood, playing tourist in your own hometown and walking everywhere to do it, or trying out a new hiking trail just because it is a beautiful day, are just a few of the ways I’ve tricked myself in to exercise.

Another form of deceptive activity for me is kayaking. We used to go kayaking often when we lived down in Southern Maryland but sadly we had to leave our kayaks behind when we moved up to the DC area because we had no place to store them. Finally, five years later, we went back to collect our kayaks and took out on the Potomac River on Saturday.

It was a gorgeous day to be on the water: the sun was shining down from a blue sky with only a few puffy white clouds. We launched from a marina near National airport and headed toward the Memorial Bridge.

Kayaking on the Potomac, Memorial Bridge in the background w/ Rosslyn, VA on the left and Washington, DC on the right

As we paddled along, sometimes quickly racing ahead of Mike and then slowing down or stopping in order to enjoy the scenery and waiting for Mike to catch up. Race ahead. Drift. Race ahead, drift.

We paddled under Memorial Bridge with the goal of kayaking to Roosevelt Island before turning around and heading back to the marina. We made it to the island and saw a few herons and several small hawks (not sure what kind) along the shore and in the trees. We found a small inlet so we paddled in to the middle of the island. After check out the interior of the island, we headed back to the river.

As we started back toward the marina we spotted a turtle sunning himself on some driftwood in the middle of the Potomac. It is amazing how much wildlife you can see in a city if you look in the right places. It is one of the things I love about DC. While running I’ve come across deer and fox and now we’ve seen turtles and heron within earshot of the hectic citylife of the National Mall.

My arms started getting tired on the way back so I was drifting more than I was racing ahead and I noticed all of the runners and bikers using the bike path along the VA side of the Potomac. I run along this path once or twice a week for the past four years and I’ve often spotted kayakers out on the river. It was often a welcome distraction, something to think about, as I made my way through longer and longer runs. On hot days I would have traded places with those kayakers in an instant if someone had offered up the opportunity and now I was one of them.

It was one of the only times I can remember watching other people run and not feeling an overwhelming urge to join them. I only wondered how many of them spotted me and thought, “Hey, look. A kayaker. That looks fun.”

Me on the Potomac w/ the Mt. Vernon bike trail in the background

We ended up kayaking for an hour and a half and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t even notice that it was 90 minutes of exercise because it wasn’t. It was an hour and half of fun that happened to be good for me physically and mentally. And that’s the best kind of active.

Formulating My Plan

Sometimes I can be a little flaky when it comes to picking goal races. I want to do them all and as soon as I find a new race/challenge I start day-dreaming about how I can fit it in to my schedule. Oh, a new 50K in Maryland only 30 minutes from the house! Ah, a 12-hour trail run adventure in VA in about a month! Look, a race on the C&O Towpath; I love the towpath! Wow, a race put on by a great beer company; I’m there!

And this is how I ended up with a race (sometimes, two) every weekend of September:

September 4 – Northfield Savings Banks Flying Pig Footrace, 5K
September 11 – VHTRC Women’s Half Marathon Trail Run
September 18 – Revenge of the Penguins 10 Miler
September 25 – Clarendon Day 10K
September 26 – Dogfish Dash 5K

Fortunately I didn’t get too carried away and all of the races are below or at the half-marathon distance (but I’m keeping an eye on that 50K and that 12-hour run for next year).

However, I’m not specifically training for any of these races. I know I can run these distances and I’m really not all that concerned with beating PRs, although it was would be nice if it happened. I wanted to rediscover a sense of freedom in my running. I enjoy doing races and when they aren’t “goal races” there is zero stress involved so I ended up having a great time. There is nothing like crossing a finish line.

And yet, I still want more. I’ve been telling myself since the Skyline Challenge 50K that I should just take the fall off of “training” and just run and race for fun. I’ve repeated this to myself over and over again.

It did not stick.

After talking to another runner about upcoming races and goals, I started getting the itch to attempt a sub-4 marathon with the eventual goal of running a Boston Qualifying time of 3:40. As much as I loved the ultra and as excited as I get about attempting to run further distances, I would also love to go sub-4 before I turn 30. I don’t know why it is important for me to reach this utterly self-imposed arbitrary time goal before my next birthday but nevertheless, it is.

I found a flat, flat, flat race that may just do the trick and I won’t have to start marathon training until October since the race isn’t until the middle of January. No summer long runs for me! Yay!

Anyway, the race isn’t for sure and plans could definitely change but for now it is what I am most excited about so I’m going to go with it.

Sub-4 here I come (and I’ve got my eye on you BQ!)

Daily Dozen:
Strength Training in the morning
XT – Stair climber and elliptical @ lunch hour

Rejection never felt so good.

Going in to the Skyline Challenge 50K, I told myself that if the race went well and I enjoyed the experience I would sign up for the JFK 50 Miler in November. Because of the volume of application the race receives, this year they made entry in to the race a lottery. My application did not get picked in the lottery and I have to be honest my initial reaction was disappointment mixed with relief.

I had a training plan worked out and have poured over race reports from previous years but I was still relieved that I wouldn’t have to go through with the race. I’m not sure I am ready to take on that challenge just yet and I’d like to get some more 50Ks under my belt before jumping up to the next level.

So, yay! for rejection. Saved by the lottery!

I have my eye on another 50K this fall but I’d like to see how a month or so of training goes before signing up for it. It would be a flatter, loop course and I’m excited to see how I handle it compared to the Skyline Challenge that was an out-and-back up and down mountains.

Also, I’ve signed up for quite a few shorter races – a half-marathon trail race, some 10Ks and 5Ks and the annual 10-mile that has become something of a family tradition.

Even if I don’t sign up for another long race this fall I’m looking forward to a fun and relaxed fall running season. No pressure, no expectations, just good running experiences.

Daily Dozen:
XT – elliptical and stair-master @ lunch hour

Recovery Plan

My plan for the rest of July is to fully recover from the Skyline Challenge 50K and be ready to jump back in to running in August. It’s not that I’ll be doing zero running for the next two weeks but rather that I plan on taking it slow and easy and not pushing myself to get out on the bike paths.

Recovery is going well so far. I hadn’t run a step since Saturday’s race because my legs were still feeling sore. However, this morning I wok up an hour before my alarm, wide awake which is usually a sign that the first hurdle toward recovery has been reached.

I decided to go out for a run/walk just to see how my legs would respond. My legs are still feeling pretty dead and I ended up walking quite a bit but it was definitely a mental boost to get back out there.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought toward doing more ultra races but I haven’t really decided on what’s next for me. I’ve been doing some reading on ultras and training for these types of races and I came across this video, Grandmothers of Endurance.

Not only are these women awesome, but they are a huge inspiration to me. I want to be them when I grow up. I have every intention of the being that gray-haired, little old lady at races. Being a lifelong runner is my ultimate goal!

Daily Dozen
2 miles in 28 minutes, early morning

Race Report: The Skyline Challenge 50K Ultra-Marathon

What am I doing here?

 

That was the thought running through my mind in the early morning hours on Saturday, July 10th. What in the world am I doing standing in the rain, before the sun has even come up, surrounded by 100 or so people, waiting for someone to shout “GO!” so that I could spend the next 8 hours running/walking/moving forward through the mountains?

 

I have been in such a funk lately that I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I had actually signed up for an ultra-marathon several months ago and now I was asking my legs to go through with it even though my brain and heart just weren’t in to it. What am I doing here?

 

I won’t bury the lead here – I had a great day, a great race and I loved just about every second of this experience. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the race. My brain has been churning away faster than it ever has before considering possible future races and experiences. I keep playing back the race in my head, trying to hold on to every second of the race at once – all 8 hours and 9 minutes, all 29,340 seconds at once.

 

Even though I’m hobbling around on sore, weak post-race legs, I feel completely reenergized and strong. Sunday I couldn’t help staring at my legs in amazement at what they are capable of accomplishing.

Start to Aid Station #1

 

It had rained heavily all night but it was only just drizzling when I woke up Saturday morning. As I walked to the race start from the campground, I wasn’t sure how to feel about the rain. While it was cooling things off significantly compared to the last few days, I also wasn’t prepared to be slipping and sliding along muddy trails all day long. The drizzle continued through the pre-race announcements and the short time we waited on the dirt road for the race to start but as soon as they shouted “GO!” I forgot about the rain and didn’t take notice of when it stopped. It couldn’t have continued for more than a mile or two.

 

In fact as soon as I heard the word “GO!” and took off at a slow trot toward the trails my mind started to focused on getting to the first aid station. The aid stations were supposed to be 4-5 miles apart and I just focused on getting to the first. I’d figure out the rest once I got there.

 

According to the pre-race announcements it was 5 miles to the first aid station and afterwards we’d hit a long uphill. “You’ll hate this hill now and you’ll hate it even more when you get there” the race director told us. However, I couldn’t think past the first aid station. I knew I had to make it there and that was it.

 

The trail was muddy from the rain and there were huge puddles along the course forcing us to tiptoe around them. Also, we were still bunched up so this part of the race was a little slow. After a moderate climb we spread out a bit and I even ended up going down the wrong trail for about 5 minutes with a large group of runners before we realized we hadn’t seen pink or orange ribbons in a while. It was a bit of a “Who’s on First” routine trying to figure out which of the three trails we needed to follow but we eventually figured it out and I made it to the first aid station in tact.

 

Aid Station #1 to Aid Station #2

 

I grabbed 3 Oreos, a gel and filled my hand-held water bottle and headed back out on the course. I ate the three cookies and saved the gel for later knowing that I would probably need a boost after we hit the “hill” the race director warned us about. After the ups and downs during that first section it was hard to imagine what could be worse that would necessitate a warning from the RD.

 

This would be the shortest distance between aid stations of the day at roughly 3 miles but it involved that now infamous (at least in my imagination) incline. Even though the sun had come up, it was still overcast and the mud on the trails had not improved. We were still a bit bunched up as we all hit that steep hill, with large rocks and slippery mud. I managed to power hike my way to the top without incident but others seemed to be struggling up the muddy trail and a few even fell in to the mud.

 

Once at the top, I didn’t take time to catch my breath, happy to be able to run again. I made it to the next Aid Station faster than I expected, hitting a short (but rocky, hilly and exposed) out-and-back. Again, I grabbed a few cookies and a gel or two for the road before heading back out on the trails.

 

Aid Station #2 to Aid Station #3

 

The next part of the course was a lot of fun. We ran along the top of the mountain, hitting an overlook that would have been very nice had we not been fogged in. After a few miles of relatively flat but rocky trails, we hit the switchbacks down the other side of the mountain. It was a lot of fun to bomb the switchbacks, barely slowing for the turns, using trees to make the 180 degree turns easier. I didn’t take much notice of how long we were on this section of the trail and I should have because it would be important for the way back but I had a great deal of fun running down that mountain.

 

Coming off the switchbacks we ended up on a wider fire road with plenty of room to let loose. I cruised the flats and down hills, walked the up hills, and felt like I was in the zone.

 

The sun started to come out and at this point, I had been out on the course a little under 3 hours 30 minutes. It was starting to warm up but the trees were providing a nice shade and I welcomed the opportunity to dry out a little bit.

 

I had been aiming to hit each of the aid stations in 1 hour 15 minutes or less and I was on target. I felt surprisingly good considering I had run nearly 15 miles on hilly, rocky terrain.

 

I made it to Aid Station #3, refilled my water bottle, grabbed some pretzels, cookies and gummy bears and some salt tablets and headed down the road.

 

Aid Station #3 to Aid Station #4

 

There was a small bit of road running after leaving aid station #3 but I didn’t mind it before we hit a wide gravel trail with some rolling ups and downs. I also finally saw the lead runners coming back and got my first taste of just how supportive and friendly ultra-runners can be. Every single runner who passed me going the other direction had a smile and words of encouragement. I’ve cheered on faster runners in plenty of road races but never once have the lead runners broken focus in order to tell me “good job” or “keep it up” or “looking strong.” It was an awesome show of support.

 

Nearly to Aid Station #4, we headed up a long, winding hill. I walked most of it but it felt great knowing I was so close to the turn around point.

 

As I came up to the top of the hill, I realized I had only seen 7 or 8 woman coming back the other direction, meaning I was in the top ten (now, there were only about 100 runners I would guess and only a quarter of those runners were women but still…top ten!!). I breezed through the aid station, grabbed some goodies and gels and headed back down the hill.

 

Aid Station #4 to Aid Station #5

 

I felt GREAT. I was flying.

 

I hooked up with another runner going down the hill who was from Northern VA and we started talking about ultras and running in DC, etc. He was amazed that this was my first ultra and that I was looking so good. It was fun to have someone else to talk to and it must have shown because everyone commented on how much fun we were having as we passed.

 

Then, I realized we hadn’t passed anyone for a while. Then, I realized we hadn’t seen an orange or pink ribbon in a while. Then, I realized that we were running on a road, not a trail and had been for some time. Then, full realization set it…we had missed a turn (it wasn’t just me and my new friend, there were 5 of us strung out along the road) and were not on the course. We headed back the way we came and I took off. I didn’t really care that we were lost or that I had run two extra miles. I just wanted to get back to the course because I had something to prove to myself now.

 

I’d be lying if I said getting lost and running extra miles didn’t knock the wind out of my sails a bit but I was still having a good time. I was also happy to be back on track.

 

Aid Station #5 to Aid Station #6

 

As we back-tracked along the course, it didn’t occur to me what I had to face. As I quickly made my way through the fifth aid station, refilling and restocking, I was just focused on the task at hand. We got back on the wide jeep road and before too long we were back in the woods and headed toward the switchbacks.

 

Oh crap! The switchbacks.

 

As I headed up the mountain, I kept telling myself that the run down didn’t seem that long so the hike up couldn’t be that brutal. But I just kept climbing up and up. By this time, no one was around me. I couldn’t see anyone head of me or anyone climbing up. For 30 minutes of steady power hiking, I just followed the trail from orange or pink ribbon to orange or pink ribbon. I started questioning the situation and myself. What if I was supposed to turn off somewhere and this was only supposed to be for the climb down? Where is everyone else? What am I doing out here? When will this end? God, my legs are killing me! This is supposed to be a running race, not a hiking race. Argh! I will even admit to mumbling expletives as I hiked up the never-ending mountain.

 

I still wasn’t any close to the top but after 30 minutes I saw a group of runners slowly gaining on me. I was so excited to see another human being that I didn’t even care that they were coming up so fast it looked like I was standing still.

 

Fifteen minutes later – after 45 minutes (I’m guess-timating) of walking up a mountain – I finally made it to the top. The group behind me soon passed me but I took off running after them. It wasn’t easy, or fast, my legs were officially shot after that long climb.

 

However, I was eager to get to the next (and last!) aid station. As I left the last aid station, #5, I heard someone say that we were at mile 22 so I was trying to do the math and figure how much more running we’d have to do after the #6.

 

As I finished the trail and headed back down and back up the gully to get to the final aid station (what was aid station #2 also) I heard someone as they ran by me going the other direction – “once you get to the aid station, it’s only four miles to the finish.”

 

I have never, ever wanted to see an aid station as much as I wanted to see this one. I knew that the worst of the course was over and I knew I would finish. I was quick to grab my goodies and refill my water (I took a swig of soda because I was intrigued that they were offering it at all the aid stations. Blech! Last thing in the world I wanted while running). I was out of there and on my way to the finish.

 

Aid Station #6 to Finish

 

I kept an eye on the one woman in front of me the whole way to the finish. I didn’t have the energy left to pass her but I knew that if I kept her in sight I would be able to keep a decent pace.

 

The sharp climb up the mountain really zapped my energy and fried my legs. It actually felt better to run than to walk but I wasn’t able to run any of the steep down hills any longer. My quads were shot and didn’t have the strength to hold my knee in place on the left leg so it started to hurt on the down hills. It wasn’t terrible pain and it went away as soon as I was able to run on level ground or walk up hill. (I even started to wish for up hills while I was stumbling back down the “hill” from the beginning of the course, which thankfully had dried out by this time. I wasn’t looking forward to sliding down the mud on that one).

 

And before I knew it, I was on the dirt road headed back toward the campground and the finish line. Cars were passing me and the drivers would wave and shout encouragement (much faster runners than me headed home, I can’t blame them). I saw the lake, I made the last turn and I headed for the finish line as fast as I could, which was surprisingly fast considering all I had been through.

 

I felt no pain. I felt no fatigue. I just felt elated.

 

Someone near the finish line spotted me and started shouting and cheering. She was pretty impressed with my finishing sprint and said so. I turned in to the grass and down the finish chute…and then I was done. I finished my first ultra. I ran 31 miles. I ran MORE than 31 miles since I got lost! I did it in 8 hours and 9 minutes. Right on target.

 

It was the absolute toughest thing I’ve ever had to do but it is definitely something I would do tomorrow if I could.

 

 

Me after finishing the race

 

The course profile - Mountains! 

 

Pros:

• First ultra-marathon experience couldn’t be beat
• Challenging – I’m so proud I was able to finish
• Nice performance shirt
• Awesome food at the end and I nice low-key picnic feel

Cons:

• I got nothing – it was great!

 

Diagnosis ?

It has been a strange few weeks for me running-wise.


Let me set the record straight – I’ve had some good runs and even some memorable runs (thanks Mom!). However, June was also the worst month of running for me since I started 4 years ago. It wasn’t my pace. It wasn’t my mileage. (Although neither of those were spectacular). It is the only time that I have dreaded running. I’ve hated the bike paths. I’ve resented waking up early. I’ve cursed the hills.

So what was going wrong?

I wasn’t sleeping well because of work and so I wasn’t running at all or running well when I would try to get out on the trails. In fact, I’ve had quite a few “stop-and-starts” meaning I’d get out to run, get anywhere from a whole mile or just a few steps before I would just decide to stop. Once I stopped because my heart rate shot up almost immediately and I took that as a sign that I needed to rest/sleep more than I needed to run. Another time I ran a full mile and I simply decided that I had had enough. I really didn’t want to be out there so I stopped, turned around and walked home.

Stopping mid-run because of a high heart-rate is just smart. Stopping mid-run because I just didn’t want to be out there, well, that’s unusual for me. In the past when I’ve had to talk myself in to getting out on the paths, once I started I would feel better and even if I never felt super-great on the run, well by the end I would at least feel accomplished and proud. This time, the time when I just stopped, I didn’t feel anything in particular. I stopped running, started walking, made it back to the house and fell instantly asleep. I didn’t even realize I was that tired.

To me, these are the symptoms of over-training and being burnt-out. Usually I can’t wait for the weekend long runs and now I have to convince myself to get out there.

Is it the heat? Is it that I need a break? I don’t know.

I haven’t been running like I had hoped leading up to my first venture in to the world of ultra-marathon running and that has both bummed me out and made me very nervous for this coming Saturday. I don’t really know what is going to happen. I had a good base going to the marathon in May and I did my best to balance recovery from that PR-race and maintaining a certain level of running-fitness for the 50K attempt next weekend. That balance never really happened and now I’m nervous and a little afraid. I have no idea what is going to happen this weekend. I did what I could be it was far less than I had hoped/planned.
So maybe it is fear?

No matter what, no matter the heat, the burn-out or the fear, Saturday is going to happen and I am going to give it my best shot. Even if I end up walking most of it, by Saturday afternoon I will have run an ultra-marathon.

Daily Dozen:
4.27 miles @ easy pace this morning
Strength training @ lunch hour (arms only)

The Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday I woke up and just didn’t feel like running so I didn’t. I went one mile of my planned 10, heard the one mile beep on my Garmin, looked down saw the time and just stopped running. I walked back to the house. Today I woke up and couldn’t wait to get out the door. I did 6.5 miles and would have kept going if it hadn’t been time to get ready for work. In fact, as I got closer to the house I made the decision to pull a double today and run during my lunch break.

So what was the difference?

The weather was about the same both mornings – high 60s/low 70s with gross humidity. I got about the same amount of sleep both nights prior to the runs – 7.5 hours-ish. However, dinner the night before may have had something to do with (or, everything).

Monday night was happy hour at a bar where my husband and split a plate of (yummy!) nachos, sliders and a pitcher of beer. Although this doesn’t happen often and isn’t a dinner I am particularly proud of, I have done it plenty of times. I woke up Tuesday morning feeling drained and completely apathetic toward running.

…and my “run” reflected that feeling.

Tuesday evening we had breakfast for dinner (three pancakes and three sausage links), a bowl of baked swiss chard chips and a slice of Tomato Soup Cake. While not a gold star dinner, it beat the pants off the previous night’s bar food nosh-fest. This morning I woke up and felt good.

…and my RUN reflected how I felt.

It is a lesson I learn over and over again: Eat bad, feel bad. Eat well, feel well. It really isn’t rocket science but constantly need to remind myself.

I recently read a forum post about the idea of “eating to run, not running to eat.” In other words, runners often say they run so that they can eat whatever they want without gaining weight. When you are running 50 miles a week, a Big Mac isn’t going to push the scales up. However, we runners also pay excruciating attention to our on-the-run nutrition and fueling. We have fueling plans and hydration plans for races – specific miles to eat gels, alternating Gatorade and water at aid stations, packing gummy bears and orange slices. I would make sense to apply the same passion and interest to our pre-run nutrition as well.

Lesson Re-Learned: Eat to Run (and not the other way around)

Daily Dozen:
6.48 miles @ morning run
Planned, 2 mile run/walk hill intervals on the treadmill & stretching @ lunch break

New Bike

After last weekend’s nearly disastrous run, I laid low this weekend and skipped running altogether.

However, the weekend wasn’t a total loss because on Sunday I purchased a new bike and here it is:





It is a Cannondale Quick 4 and is supposed to be a good bike for riders who want to use it for both commuting, quick rides to run errands as well as some fitness riding and this is exactly how I want to use this bike. I’ve been saying for over a year now that I’d like to start biking to/from work but I had two excuses that have prevented me from actually doing it. One, I didn’t have a “good” bike and two, I am very nervous about riding on the roads in DC.

Well, I’ve eliminated the first excuse and the only way to get over the anxiety about riding in DC is to just do it.

Last night, Mike and I went for a ride and it really was a great deal of fun. I am looking forward to my future bike adventures!

Daily Dozen:
5 miles w/ ¼ mile intervals and ¼ mile rest – piriformis is acting up, bring on the tennis ball J

Doubt

This past Sunday I woke up excited to try my first long run “ultra-style.” In other words, I was going out for 4 hours with the intention of doing run/walk intervals, 5 minutes running following by one minute walking repeated 40 times, and walking every incline, big or small. I got a late start, not getting out the door until just after 8 so I was going to be battling the heat and humidity along with the time/distance. However, I had a handheld of water, a camelbak full of water, food and a plan.

I headed east along the Custis Bike Trail toward the Potomac River and then turned on to the Mount Vernon Bike Trail going south. Even though it was hot, the bike path was shaded a decent amount and I felt good. I followed my run/walk/walk up inclines plan and things were going well.

After one hour, I took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter bar.

The sun was beating down by this point but I was still feeling good and run/walk-ing well. My pace was nothing to be amazed by, probably a steady 11:00 minute/mile during the runs and a fast walk during the breaks. I also made it a point to power-hike the inclines.

At the two hour point, I turned around and headed back toward home and took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was feeling pretty good at this point. I had done around 9.5 miles in 2 hours. For me, during long runs, the hardest part is just getting to the halfway point. In my mind, getting halfway means that the only thing left to do is make it home…and I always make it home. The sun was getting higher and the stretches with shade were getting further apart but I continue drinking every time I stopped to walk.

However, the wheels started to come off about an hour later. Somewhere around the 13 mile point my legs were not moving as quickly as I wanted them to and the running portions were getting harder. I decided to take a long walk break, sipping water as I went. I didn’t feel thirsty but I drank anyway. The heat also started getting to me.

This is when doubt started entering my head.
What am I doing? I asked myself. Why am I out here? I can’t run an ultra without months of training! I’m still recovering from the marathon. Wait, the marathon…two weeks ago I ran 26.2 miles in 4 hours 7 minutes and today I am struggling to finish half that….at a much, slower, deliberately slower, pace. What was a I thinking signing up for this ultra?

I decided to call it quits. I was about 2 miles from the Arlington National Cemetery metro station. I decided to run/walk to it and then call it a day. I debated just toughing it out but I decided to make the “smart” decision and not push myself. Live to fight another day, I told myself and I felt good about the decision.

I made it to the metro station, thanked all that was holy that I had remembered to throw a few bucks in my camelbak, and jumped on the next train. I was a little bummed that I didn’t make it the full distance but I felt good about the 15.5 miles (in 3 hours 19 minutes) that I had covered. It is going to be a hot day when I run the ultra so it was good practice, I thought to myself.

Unfortunately, I had to transfer trains and I had to wait 12 minutes for a train. As I waited on the bottom level of the Rosslyn metro station I noticed that my ears started to feel clogged. That’s unusual! I was listening to a podcast and it increasingly sounded like I was hearing it while holding my head under water. Then, my vision started going black. Oh my god! I am going to faint, I thought, so this is what it feels like to pass out.

Because my ears were clogged, I could hear my breathing very well and the one thing I noticed (other than how loud it sounded) was that it was actually pretty even. I told myself to keep calm and to think. My vision still getting dimmer and dimmer, I started looking around – the bench was full but I could sit on the floor (I was leaning on the wall). No, don’t sit on the floor, if I sit on the floor I’m going to pass out. Bad idea. I looked up and I still had 7 minutes until my train would arrive. I started paying attention to the people around me – when I pass out, which one is going to get to me first, which one is going to call for help, who looks like they would be good in crisis?

I honestly evaluated all the people on the platform around me (all tourists) and decided that I would have better chances upstairs at the metro kiosk with an employee or outside entirely. Don’t panic. Stay calm. I repeated this over and over to myself. I listened to my breathing – it was so loud in my ears. I don’t remember my heart racing but my breathing was steady.

Alright, pushing myself off the wall, eyes down and focused on each step my foot was taking, just get upstairs. If I pass out, I want to be as close to above ground as possible. If I can make it all the way out of the station, I’ll call Mike and he can come pick me up. I was making deals with myself – don’t pass out until you see sunlight or an employee. Just keep walking.

And, then, just like that…my vision came back. My ears felt better (still a little clogged). Walking was helping. I kept pacing along the platform, afraid that if I stopped I would start to feel bad again. I also started sweating even more. It was like walking flipped a switch and my body was functioning properly again.

My train finally pulled in to the station, which means I was fighting off fainting for over 5 minutes. I jumped on the train and couldn’t wait to go the four stops. I tried to look as normal as possible even though I was absolutely soaked in sweat and who knows what my face looked like (I’m not good at hiding my emotions – they are always written all over my face). I’m sure I looked frightened and I was!

I made it to the Ballston metro station and high-tailed it out to the street. I called Mike to pick me up because I didn’t want to chance the walk home. If I passed out in a neighborhood, who knows how long it would be until someone noticed me. As I waited for Mike to drive to the station, I started to feel really scared. No longer faced with the crisis, it started to hit me just what had happened to me, just how close I had come to something very serious happening to me.

Mike got me home and I showered and changed. I felt pretty off for the rest of the day – slight headache and just whole-body tired. I’ve been thinking about what I did wrong – more water, more often, saltier foods (pretzels were in my pack but I hadn’t eaten them), run earlier to avoid the worst of the day’s heat.

As I get farther from Sunday’s experience, I am slowly gaining back my confidence but I still have quite a few doubts. I’ll attempt another long run this weekend (much earlier in the day though) and if it doesn’t go well, I may have to face facts – I may not be ready to run an ultra marathon so soon after a marathon. I’m worried…but hopeful.

Daily Dozen:
No running – my body needs a break
Slow walk and stretching @ lunch hour

So I did something…I did it a few months ago but I’ve been hesitant to tell too many people. I was waiting to see how I did running the marathon (well, what turned out to be two marathons) but I’m not even sure why. It is not like running poorly in the marathon was going to make this thing go away.

Well, what did I do? I signed up for my first ultramarathon. On July 11, I’ll be tackling the Skyline Challenge in the mountains of Virginia. It is a 50K (31 miles) of trails, out-and-back.

Ever since I signed up I have been at times excited, doubtful and scared, and some times even all three.

Since I just ran two marathons, I am going to use the endurance I’ve already gained and try to simply maintain my fitness through July in order to survive and finish the ultra. I am found several sources that says that running a 50K a month or two after a marathon is actually a great way to train so that is encouraging. My plan is to continue recovering from the marathon and slowly build up my weekly mileage back to the level I was running before Nashville.

At the same time, I am going to be doing something slightly different for the weekend long runs. Rather than focus on hitting a certain mileage I’ll run/walk with my focus on time on my feet and trying different foods to see how my stomach handles running and eating (this I am not worried about). I am taking the advice of most experienced ultra runners and will be walking up every hill no matter how small and when I can run, doing a 5 minute run/1 minute walk ratio. I’ll be practicing this on the weekends as well.

The other thing I am doing to prepare that is different from marathon training is walking. I’ll be hitting the gym during the work week for practice walking up hills and strengthening those muscles.

It’s funny, as I’ve been telling more and more people my doubt has been slipping away. I’m still exciting and scared but in a good way. I am starting to believe that I’ll finish it but I’m still scared that it is going to chew me up and then spit me back out.

Daily Dozen:
Walking – treadmill hill workout @ lunch hour