Back in the Pool

I admit it: I haven’t been swimming.

I should be swimming – it’s a good counter-balance to running since it uses a different set of muscles, it is supposed to be good for recovery while still getting in a work out, and, oh yeah, I have my first open water swim and my first triathlon in only a few weeks.

With all that, I have only been in the pool one time in July. I used tapering for the marathon and the recovering enough for the six-hour race as an excuse to skip swimming. The truth is, I just don’t enjoy it and it is a hassle (bringing multiple changes of clothes to the pool, showering and getting ready for work in the locker room, lugging around an extra bag full of wet cloths to and from work, all those extra towels to wash each week).

When I am in the pool, I am counting laps and looking at the clock just waiting for it to be time to get out. No wonder I don’t enjoy it!

Yet, once I’m done, I feel the same sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that I get after a run. Perhaps once I’ve done the open water swim and the tri, a weekly pool workout won’t seem so tedious because it won’t feel like something I have to do it.

This morning I did 3 sets of 10 laps + 2 laps just kicking with a kickboard (for some reason this is my favorite “stroke” to practice so I reward myself with it when I do 10 laps without stopping). I was breathing hard by the second set and I know my form started to suffer by the third but it was a nice, slow workout. Welcome back to the pool!

Daily Dozen:
30 minutes swimming
3 miles w/ walking hill intervals @ lunch hour (planned)

Endless Summer 6-Hour Run – Race Report

The Premise: Run a 4.2 mile paved loop course on the trails of Quiet Waters Park in Annapolis, MD as many times as I can in a 6 hour time period.

The Challenge: Heat. Humidity. Sweat. Sun.

I signed up for this race only a few weeks ago. I have been intrigued by the timed-event concept – run a loop as many times as possible in a set timeframe – and this race fell on a weekend I didn’t have anything planned, it was after the Mad Marathon so I was not training for anything specific, and it was within driving distance.

As the heat wave hit the mid-Atlantic region last week, I started to question whether I should attempt my first race of this kind but I gave myself permission to take my time, walk if I needed, and even drop early if it I started to struggle. I didn’t put any pressure on myself to fight it out to the end. I handle heat fairly well and the organizers were doing all they could to make sure the runners were safe – weighing us every 2 hours, pushing salt and hydration, setting up a hydration station at the half way point, and a misting station on the course. I woke up Saturday morning ready to give this race my best shot.

Unfortunately, traffic had other plans for me. I left the house with enough time to get to the race site with more than 30 minutes to spare. At 6:50 I came to stop on Route 50 due to an accident that required the entire road to be shut down, and didn’t make it the 1 mile to the next exit for another 50 minutes. The whole time I was inching down the highway, I was under 15 miles to the race…I could have run there!! I contemplated turning around and going home but I thought, what the heck, they might still let me run. After taking a detour and several backroads (thank you iPhone Google maps app), I finally got to the park around 8:10 (40 minutes late).

I quickly found an organizer and within 5 minutes of parking, I had pinned on my number, grabbed my water bottle, been weighed (came in right at 130 pounds), and was running. As I started the race, I was a mix of feelings. I was still upset about being late, thankful that I took a shot, showed up and they let me run, and anxious because I felt like I was way behind everyone else. I told myself to focus running.

The first loop was mainly about recon: The first mile or so was shaded and had one noticeable downhill and one noticeable uphill. After mile one, I hit the misting station and declined a spray from the volunteer – not yet, I said, but I’ll be back. Mile 2 was more exposed and after running by a dog park and up and down some small rollers, I came back to the that noticeable downhill from mile 1. The marker for Mile 2 was at the top and the hill was in full sun. After the hill and more sun, I hit the midpoint hydration station. I declined to fill my water bottle as it was about halfway full. The next part of the course was the toughest mentally for me. Though Mile 3 and then some, the course followed a fitness trail with exercise stops (sit-ups, pull-ups, stretching, balance beam, etc.) but other than that there wasn’t much in the way of landmarks and with each turn I was looking for the road crossing that meant I was getting close to the end of the loop. After the road crossing, the course was back in full shade and it wasn’t long before I saw the Mile 4 marker and then it was just up a hill to the start/finish/aid station (why do all races have to end on a hill?).

I hit the start/finish, heard my number called out to make sure my loop was counted, had a volunteer put ice and water in my bottle, grabbed a cookie and a handful of potato chips and headed back out on the course. My first lap, including time in the aid station, was 45 minutes. I smiled when I saw that time because it was an excellent way to start this race and I no longer felt like I was way behind everyone else.

I settled in to a routine – up and down in Mile 1, hit the misting station and have them spray the back of my neck, out in to the sun, up the hill to Mile 2, grab a cup or refill my bottle with water at the hydration station, get mentally tough through the Mile 3+ stretch, cross the road, almost there, over some wooden bridges, see Mile 4 marker, a few more turns and then up the hill to the finish.

I was running strong and steady and was curious, with the heat and still recovering from the Mad Marathon two weeks ago, how long could I continue to run the entire loop without walking. Loop 2 – 8.4 miles down – went by and I was still running. I grabbed more chips, asked for a refill of ice and water, was weighed again (130#, right where I needed to be), and was back out on the course in 44 minutes 30 seconds. Wow, just a smidge faster. Seeing my time remain steady was a definite confidence booster.

The volunteers were asking about hydration and salt every time we came in to the start/finish. I took one salt tab on the second loop and then two on each loop after. Also, I made sure my water bottle was finished by the end of the loop and even refilled it if it was more than halfway empty at the midpoint hydration station. I also grabbed whatever looked good at the aid station – today it seemed to be potato chips, pretzels, watermelon and Gatorade. I had two gels throughout the day, just because I had them with me and I felt like I should.

I started Lap 3 and told myself to be smart, if at any point you feel like walking, just walk. To my surprise, I went through Lap 3 quickly and hit the start/finish without walking, once again in 44 minutes 30 seconds. Wow, just wow. I felt strong and unstoppable. Take that 100 degree heat!

However, the day was definitely getting warmer, the few early morning clouds were gone and more of the course was in full sun now that the sun was getting higher in the sky. Starting Lap 4, I again reminded myself that it was OK to walk. I came to the long uphill in Mile 1 and decided that walking was definitely in order. For the rest of the lap, I walked the larger uphills (except the finish, I was determined to always run in to the finish) and to my surprise came out of aid station at the end of Lap 4 with a time of 44 minutes 52 seconds. Holy moly, walking wasn’t taking away any time. I ran out of the station with a huge smile on my face.

I knew I couldn’t keep it up though. By this time, between sweating and the misting station, I was soaking wet (I could literally ring the sweat out of my running skirt – eww!) It was hot but I was handling it well and kept to my hydration/salt plan. For Lap 5, I decided to play a game: each time I passed someone or someone passed me going the other direction, I had to run for 60 seconds. If I passed someone else or someone passed me going the other way, the 60 seconds started over again. This was excellent motivation. The lap seemed to fly by and before I knew it, I was back at the aid station. My time was just over 48 minutes. Even with the additional walking, I added less than 5 minutes to my lap time. Woohoo!!

When I started the race my goal was one lap per hour, so since I was late and would be running for 5 hours 15 minutes, my goal was 5 laps and a little bit. Here I was, with 1.5 hours left on the race clock, 5 laps down (20.8 miles run) and I was feeling great.

I played the same game for Lap 6 – pass or someone pass me, run for a minimum of 60 seconds, the timer starts over if I passed someone else (or sometimes I just felt like running further). By this time, there were fewer people out on the trails and I was proud of myself for still being out there and feeling great. My legs were tired, my feet were starting to hurt a bit and I looked forward to the short bits of walking more and more but I also felt like I was on top of the world.

However, when Lap 6 was almost done and I started to have a weird moment of doubt. It was hot and I started to wonder if I really wanted to be out there. Six laps. Twenty-five miles. One hundred degree heat. Those are not things to scoff at. I could stop running and feel proud. When I came in to the aid station for the final time, a volunteer asked me what I wanted in my water bottle and I’m not really sure why but I told him, I think I am done. What, you aren’t done. Look at you. You look great. Get back out there, he told me in rapid fire succession. All these were valid points. But there are hills and sun back that way, I countered. You have 30 minutes left, come on. You could at least walk for 30 minutes, he said. Alright, alright, I’ll go, I said, and the volunteers handed me a little orange flag. If I was still on the course at the end of the race, when I heard the horn, I was to plant the flag on the side of the trail and then I would get credit for the distance I covered in that partial lap.

And so, thanks to that volunteer, I headed out of the aid station one last time. I was tired and sweaty and feeling gross. I wasn’t keen on being out there but I was back out on the course so I might as well make the most of it. I ran and walked. During a walk break, a relay team (there was a relay also going on at the same time – those little buggers would blow right by us individual runners all refreshed and rested) caught up to me and told me I should run with them. Alright, I said and reluctantly started running again. We exchanged some small talk and to my surprise I actually felt better running with a group. As they talked and encouraged each other and me, it reenergized me. On the next big climb, though, one of their teammates started to fall back so they told me to go ahead.

Once I left them, the boost didn’t last too long and after hitting the misting station for a final time (my favorite people all day!) I was back to walking wondering if I could get to Mile 2 before hearing the horn. Then, they caught up with me again, and shouted, come on Becki, run. Again, reluctantly I did and again, it felt good to run. I gave myself permission to walk the hill up to the Mile 2 marker but after that I would run until I heard the horn.

And that is exactly what I did. I heard the horn somewhere between Miles 2 and 3 of my seventh lap, planted my little flag and happily started walking back to the start/finish. Unfortunately, I think I was at the point in the course that was the further away from the start/finish and ended up walking quite a ways, on a sunny road, before a volunteer came by in her car and offered me a ride. Thank goodness she did, I was starting to feel a little nauseous from the heat and sun.

I hung around for some food and gobbled up cookies, chips, veggies and a hot dog. I tried to stay until they announced the awards but I was getting tired and had an hour long drive ahead of me. Since I was soaked, I did a quick change in the car, happily put on flip-flops and headed for home.

I ended up running 27.42 miles in 5 hours 15 minutes. I am confident that if I had been able to start on time I could have completed at least 7 laps and then tacked on another mile or so. I had a great time at this race. The volunteers, organizers and aid were top-notch. The shirt and race medal are neat. The food after was yummy. All the other runners were super supportive. I would love to give this course another shot when we aren’t experiencing the heat wave of the century and I’m not late to the start. A favorite race, for sure.

Mad Marathon – Race Report

With the slogan, “The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon,” this inaugural race had a tremendous amount of expectation to meet. Run in the Mad River Valley of Central Vermont in the middle of summer, with the Green Mountains all around, gorgeous farmland, and wonderful old covered bridges, the beauty part was easy. It was the hills and heat that we had to worry about. Ben Franklin claimed “beauty and folly are old companions” and this race seemed to prove his point.

In training for this race, I didn’t take myself or my time as seriously as I did when I ran Charleston. I have my sub-4 and I wanted a fun marathon without all that worry about pace and numbers and times. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to run well so I made sure to incorporate hills in all my long runs but I also wanted to run a relaxed race so my goal was to run strong throughout and finish without a struggle. That sounds smart; so far, no folly.

But wait there’s more… The day before the race, I drove the course with my parents. They had driven it prior and Mom declared it “not that bad.” As we drove the country roads of Vermont, going up, going down over and over again, I found out that I have a different definition of “not that bad” than my mother. By the time we hit the second half of the course, I was announcing, “Yup, I’ll be walking this one. Oh, and this one. Walking again here.” This is why I never look at the course maps or profile charts or drive the course before the race, it only makesme nervous.

What have I gotten myself in to? Remember what old Ben said about beauty and folly?

Despite the increased levels of anxiety, driving the course actually proved to be beneficial. Right there in the car, I gave myself permission to walk parts of therace. I changed tactics and would approach the coming race like an ultra – Walk the uphills. Run the downhills and flats. I told myself to run strong but walk smart. I would run up the hills until my heart rate started to elevate and then I would break in to a power hike to the top.

Race morning was chilly and clear – perfect running weather – however, it was supposed to warm up quite a bit. The first mile of the course led us downhill and out of town, through a covered bridge on our way to Joplin Hill. The mile-andthensome-long climb to the top of Joplin Hill reduced nearly everyone to a walk but I was prepared and didn’t get discouraged. No, I never thought I’d be walking so early in a marathon but there was plenty of time to run later.

The remaining first half of the course, through mile 12 was on and off rolling, dirt and paved, roads with a few bigger hills that required walking and followed the same course (more or less) as the half marathon. At mile 12, we marathoners split off for a more challenging second half.

Also, just after Mile 12, my knees started to bother me. It was odd since I’ve never experienced knee pain in my training runs. I decided not to panic and see if the pain went away. It did, and I can’t even remember how long it lasted. It was the only point during the race that I started to worry so I am glad it went away as quickly as it came on.

Up to that point, I was alternating water and Gatorade at the aid stations. I grabbed a Gu (orange flavored – not that bad, surprisingly!) and sucked it down with a swallow of water at the next aid stations.

This second part of the course was almost solely on paved roads and had much less shade than the first half. Also, with the sun shining, the temperature had climbed in to the 70s. Running through sprinklers and grabbing two cups of water started to become a priority any time I hit an aid station. I focused on running strong and kept chugging along.

As I was running down a hill, just on the edge of control, thinking “well, this is steep” a spectator yelled out, “Welcome to the Dip!!” The infamous Dip. One-quarter mile up. One-quarter mile down. Steep and brutal. I made it through the Dip but wasn’t exactly looking forward to it on the way back.

Somewhere near mile 16, the course turns to make a long loop before heading back along the road we ran out on and then in to town for the finish. As I made that first turn, my stomach was feeling very full of liquids, which concerned me since the heat was increasing and I knew I needed to keep on top of my hydration. Just as I was shaking my head no to the offered water bottle, a woman offered me a watermelon slice – the most magical watermelon slice on the planet. “Oh, that looks good” I blurted out and the aid station workers had a giggle. Mmmm, watermelon. It was ice cold and tasty and exactly what I needed at that moment.

Reenergized by magical fruit, I took a couple deep breaths and realized that I was actually feeling good and had less than 10 miles left to run. We looped around and headed back to the finish, with only the Dip between me and the end (or so I thought).

The miles ticked off quickly and I kept to my plan – run the downhills and flats, run uphill until my heart rate jumps up and then powerhike to the top. Running along, checking off the miles, I felt like I was running in the zone. Sure, I was tired and hot and ready to be done running but “Run Strong” was my motto for the day and it kept me going.

“Three-fours of a mile to the Dip and then 3.5 miles to the finish once you get the top,” shouted a course marshal on a bike. That was all I needed to hear. I picked up the pace just a bit, told my legs and brain to just shut up and run to the Dip. One more walk and then I could cruise in to the finish (again…or so I thought).

Down the Dip I ran and up the Dip I hiked – breathing hard and anxious to see the top. The crowd support on the way up the Dip was great. Despite the fact that this race is mostly on backcountry roads, the support at the many, many aid stations and people at their houses along the way was phenomenal. Finally, at the top of the Dip, I ran through a sprinkler – oh, that’s cold and feels great. I also sucked down one of the gels I brought – Carboom Raspberry – in an effort to keep on top of my hydration/electrolytes. My stomach was still feeling pretty full but I was also feeling a touch hungry (an odd contradiction that could only happen in a marathon). I walked through the aid station at the top and then off I went with one goal in mind – finish.

Again, the miles ticked by quickly. Each time I saw an orange cone up ahead, I told myself not to get excited, that couldn’t possibly be another mile marker but each time it was, indeed, another mile down. I was getting closer and closer. We hit a long (it felt long anyway) downhill and I started looking for the last covered bridge that meant we were only a mile from the end. We rounded a turn and then there it was. I was tired but feeling better at mile 25 of this marathon than any of my other marathons.

Just as I was heading through the covered bridge, I heard a shout – “Becki! Becki! Oh, I’m sorry we missed you! Go Becki!” It was Mom. My parents had planned on meeting me at Mile 12 but had missed me by a few minutes. Mom ran with me until we got to one last hill up Main Street (darn, I forgot about this one, I thought I was done with the hills.) Off I went, power hiked up the hill, eager to get to the top and run it in to the finish.

I got to the top, started running and got one more “Go Becki” from Mom.

This was the only bad part of the course. Main Street had been opened back up and the runners had a small “shoulder” to run on but it was mostly broken asphalt and dirt. Finding a smooth path to run on was impossible until we were closer to the Waitsfield Village Green and the road opened up to runners only.

As I made the final few turns to finish on the green, I heard a “YAY! Go Becki!!” and there was Dad to cheer me in to the finish line. It was just to boost I needed to kick it in strong. I read 4:27 something on the clock and I was so excited that I beat my expectations. I ran strong the whole day, stuck to my plan and finished a great race feeling happy and proud!

The apple cider was delicious and the apple doughnuts would be a welcome treat later. Dad and I found a spot in the shade for me to take my shoes off (aaahhh), catch my breath and wait for Mom. I shared some French fries (tasted great but not a great idea for recovery) and started craving an iced coffee as soon as Dad told me they were being sold near-by (again, tasted great, hit the spot but it wasn’t a great idea to put more liquid in my belly).

This was definitely one of my best races and I am so proud to have finished the first Mad Marathon in such high spirits. “Strong” will be a key part of my racing strategy from now on.

I highly recommend this race – great organization and support, beautiful and challenging course and an accomplishment to be proud of at the end.