corre! run! run like a llama!: Mile to half marathon

It's been a whirlwind few weeks on the running and life front, but since I have an uninterrupted couple of hours to spend on this train from Boston to Bridgeport, CT, where I'm taking a continuing education course for work, I figured this would be as good a time as any to provide a blog update. I've actually raced the past 3 weekends, at differing levels of caring and wildly different distances, with overall positive results. My choices were somewhat unusual when you consider that I'm supposedly marathon training: a mile on the indoor track at the USATF New England Championships, a 5K in Wisconsin, and a half marathon.

USATF-New Englands (mile, DMR)

After racing the mile at the GBTC Invite back in January, I realized that my love of indoor track was not yet dead and that I kind of wanted to try to race the mile again to see if I could duck under 5:50. However, sometimes things that seem like a good idea a month before they happen seem less enticing a few days out, and I went down to the wire (literally, the last 2 hours that registration was open) hemming and hawing over whether or not I wanted to race before pulling the trigger. As it happened, my team was also trying to field a DMR for the meet and of course, as the team player I am, I gamely volunteered to be a part of that squad since I would be at the meet anyway. Again, this all seemed like a fairly good idea on Wednesday night. It seemed like a significantly less good idea on Sunday morning, when, after spending a delightful Saturday sipping beers and buying books (two things which go together very well) and doing an impromptu tempo run, I woke up very, very nervous about the prospect of racing a mile. In truth I actually can't remember the last time I was so nervous for a race, and I couldn't even figure out WHY. No one was even going to be at this meet! Literally no one could care less about my mile time! For whatever reason, I think in the back of my head I had decided that I was going for it, and that decision put the fear in me that I was about to spend my afternoon hopping on the pain train.

I got to the meet and warmed up with my teammate, and time seemed to pass unbearably slowly. Having decided to do the damn thing, I just wanted to do the damn thing, I wasn't sure what the scope of the meet would be so I was happy to discover that there would, in fact, be two heats of a mile (the thought of being on the line in the same heat as my 4:50 miler teammate was almost enough to send me off to hide in a corner somewhere). I put on my spikes - perhaps also contributing to my nerves was the fact that I had chosen to race in a pair of XC spikes that I've owned since 2004, despite not having raced in spikes in...well...let's just say awhile - and strided out and was ready to be into it.

As we lined up, I almost giggled as I noticed that to my right was a tiny, young girl (I would later discover she was 11 years old) who barely came up to my chest. Yes, I was wearing spikes OLDER THAN SOME OF THE COMPETITION. And then as always...3 hops and shake out the legs, runners set, right foot forward, and the gun. There was something absurd like 20 people in the heat, and all I could think as we powered through the first lap was "this is TERRIFYING". Just jockeying for position, trying not to fall over anyone or spike anyone, and finding my place in my pack. After that, I don't know if there's much I can say, because for the first time in a long time I raced to the bottom of my legs without a glace or a thought about the clock or anything but pushing myself as hard as I could go. I have no clue what my splits were. I vaguely remember making some passes in the last 400, including 11 year old girl. I remembered something Andrew had said to me the night before in a discussion we had of the book Endure: "if you're not dead, you can always go faster". It was hard, hard, hard, but as always seems to happen when I find myself on the indoor track, I also felt powerful and strong. I was rewarded for my "f-the-clock-lets-go" mindset with a 5:47, very nearly a PR and only my second time under 5:50 in my LIFE. All of my nervousness had been for naught - I had run a great race!

Getting after it

Ye olde spikes!

So then, because I'm sort of marathon training, I had the pleasure of dragging myself through an 8 mile cooldown prior to the DMR. Actually, the first 6.5 miles were a delight - I ran much too fast, and it was a gorgeous, sunny day. But upon arriving back at the track I realized pretty quickly that my legs were dead. DMR you say? Thankfully (and hilariously) I was selected to run of all legs, the 400! Hahahahaha. The last time I ran an open 400 I was probably 17 years old and I don't think it ended very well. So I did the logical thing and didn't warm up at all, did maybe 2 strides, and then went blasting off the line like a bat out of hell when I got the baton, only to seize up something awful and die a death in the second lap. It was somewhat comical because our 1200 runner had lapped all but the top team, so I was sprinting around the remainder of the field as they finished their 1200 lap, only to be passed back by a solid percentage of their 400 runners. Oh well! We managed second with what could best be described as a C squad and Coach Tom was just delighted. I think he loves just the existence of GBTC in a DMR so much that he couldn't even care less if it involves something silly like a marathoner running the 400 leg.

Literally laughing as I hand off to my (also marathoner) teammate during our ridiculous DMR

Tom was so proud of us.

Flannel 5K
The following weekend, I flew to Wisconsin for a family celebration of my late grandmother. Being the obviously normal human that I am, I knew that at some point during the weekend I'd need to do a long run in some fashion, but I also know myself well enough to know that my motivation to pull myself out of bed for 16+ miles around the old neighborhood might be less than enticing. And so, I found myself on running in the USA searching for "5Ks February Wisconsin" and lo and behold, there was one being held in a park not far from my hometown. Splendid! I'll admit my mom was a little bemused by my suggestion initially, but I'm pretty sure she eventually just shrugged and was like "where did I get this weird child" and agreed to drive me to the race.

Once again, this race definitely got filed under the category of "things that seemed like a better idea a month ago". Due to a variety of factors that included a nearly 3 hour flight delay that resulted in more wine at the airport than expected, staying up until 1 am watching curling with my family after getting in from said flight, and coming down with a minor, but still noticeable cold on Thursday that continued to persist, I did not find myself in the most fighting of forms on Saturday morning as we headed to the race. My secret intention having looked at the results from past years was to win the race, but that was sounding like a challenging proposition given the fatigue in my legs and the weight in my lungs. I went off to warm up on what looked like the course, running down a very nice, long downhill. "Lovely!" I thought, for about 7 seconds, until I got to the bottom of the downhill and saw the horrible, horrible sign that said 5K turnaround. OH NO. As I slogged back up the hill at what felt like 15 minute mile pace, I resigned myself that this was going to be a workout and a fight for the win, nothing more.

Not exactly excited...

Finish all by mysellllllf

Silly second place glamor shot

One of my favorite high school running trails

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Hampton Half Marathon

Back in the day of October, I had set this race as a potential half marathon PR attempt, but as time went by and my motivation (or lack thereof) showed itself I put this race firmly in the category of "eh, this can be a tune up/rust buster race? Or something." When I realized that I actually had to race a half marathon and not embarass my self, I wasn't overjoyed - in fact, we had a huge Nor'Easter on Friday before the race and I'll admit I entertained the thought that maybe the race would be cancelled. And yet...the show must go on, and I found myself heading town to Hampton Beach with my teammate Taylor on Saturday, contemplating the race the next day.

I must admit that the evening before this race was definitely one of the more hilarious and awesome nights before a half that I've had. Taylor and I made it to our air Bnb/hotel (less than half a mile from the race start, incredible) and went for a walk on the beach, then proceeded to go to the restaurant associated with Smuttynose Brewery which began a hilarious evening. We had a couple of drinks and dinner at the restaurant, after which we determined that we needed a "snack", as well as breakfast for the morning. This led to wandering around a Hannaford at 10 pm, searching for Gatorade and contemplating the checkout bag spinners in ridiculous fashion. We had only had a couple of beers but it just was one of those times when the combination of a little bit of alcohol and a little bit of "life is great" combine to just turn two adults into ridiculous humans. After another beer, some fruit snacks, watching college gymnsatics, and some reading, I was ready for bed around 11:30 with the pleasant knowledge that I didn't need to wake up until 8 the next day.

I woke up without an alarm at probably 6:30 am and came to the delightful realization that I didn't ACTUALLY need to wake up for another hour and a half. An hour later, I actually did wake up for real and had the luxury of relaxing for 45 minutes in bed with my book, casually eating breakfast and sipping on some cold brew coffee, before having to get out of bed and remember that I actually had to race. I did the usual process of eating my bagel and braiding my hair, all the while bitching to Taylor about how extraordinarily unexcited I was to run a half marathon today. I kept going back and forth on what I'd wear, and after finally deciding on a long sleeve and capris. Then we jogged down to get our bibs and I found myself sweating aggressively, which in the end resulted in me swapping out to the complete opposite of shorts, a singlet, and armwarmers. I guess that's why I BROUGHT shorts, a singlet, and armwarmers to New Hampshire? I don't know, I honestly wasn't expecting to wear therm? With a high below 40 and anticipated aggressive winds, I'm surprised I even had the foresight to bring lesser clothing but I suppose, you never know.

Taylor and I went out for a warmup, and all I can say was that I was not here for it. She was just running the 5K, and as we jogged along the course I couldn't get out of my mind what a bad idea racing a half was. SO WINDY, SO OUT OF SHAPE, WHAT AM I DOING HERE, etc. We returned to the line just a couple of minutes before the start and I suitably positioneI wd myself decently far back. I was freezing and grumpy and still very much questioning what the hell I was doing here when the gun went off.

Miles 1-3 were OK. I went out relatively fast (6:45) and forced myself to dial it back, but then hit the wind at mile 2 and immediately launched a 3 mile long mental diatribe of anger. The wind was BRUTAL, just a straight headwind, and having looked at the course in advance I knew we would be running directly into it with no shelter whatsoever for the next 3 miles. I was lucky enough to find myself vaguely in a pack of 4 women after the 5K crew split off and tried to make attempts to use them. We had Lindsey lookalike, green shirt, blue shirt, and a very loud footed runner who I deemed Slap Foot in my mind, and we all were generally running together for the 3 miles that took use directly into the headwind. I was really having a hard time maintaining mental composure as the wind sucked away my energy, but I did my best to stay focused on the women around me and stay in the pack. In the end, the 4 of us sort of doodled back and forth - at mile 3, all of them were ahead of me, but by mile 4 I had somehow pulled ahead. Thank goodness for this pack of women - if there hadn't been people around me to try to hang with or get some kind of competitive fire going, I'm not sure how I would have made it through this section of the race.

At long last, we FINALLY turned out of the wind and into the neighborhood section of the course. This section began with a section of flooded road and getting to run through several inches of unavoidable standing water...lovely. I kept trying to tell myself that now that we were out of the wind I should be able to pick up some time, but I really struggled in this section of the race. The course was billed as pancake flat, so it was a very unpleasant surprise to encounter pretty constant rolling hills in this neighborhood loop of the course. Nothing massive, but with my legs already feeling like they'd been shot out from under me during the wind tunnel, I couldn't come up with much to respond to them, and I was re-passed by a few of the women from my clump. I tried to just relax, roll along, convince myself this was just a long run, whatever it took to keep myself going. At some point it occurred to me that I was feeling the way I typically feel when I'm low on sugar or low on salt, so I took a Gu which definitely helped once it kicked in. Not much to say about miles 6-10 - I sort of struggled on through the neighborhood, trying not to fall too far off pace, and cursing every rise in the road I came across. There was a particularly nasty little spike at around mile 10 that almost broke me in the way that small obstacles after 10 miles of hard running sometimes can.

Throughout this time, I hadn't really passed anyone and had been passed by a few - kind of running in no man's land - and I had mentally not been in a great place. Finally when we hit mile 10 I sort of had a revelation that the rest of the race was both flat and and involved a tailwind, and that I could suck it up and run HARD for these last 3 miles to finish in a reasonable time. I struggle a lot in the middle miles of half marathons because I just can't wrap my mind around being able to sustain the effort required for 9-10 more miles, and I think that's one big reason that I don't think I've fulfilled my potential in the half. But hitting mile 10 and knowing there was only 3 miles to go, I was finally able to find some kind of fire underneath me. I decided instead of focusing on pace, I was just going to try to pass as many people as possible during the last stretch to the finish. By this point we were back running along the water, high tide had come in, and the waves were INSANE. Waves were crashing over the breakwater and splashing onto the course; everything was wet and I was getting hit with ocean spray. It was weird, and awesome. My mind latched onto this and I had some sort of ridiculous thought like "be powerful, like the ocean!" Every time I passed someone, I'd keep repeating their "number" in my mind. I got stuck at 7 for awhile and was almost convinced that I couldn't close the gap on anyone else, but managed to run down 3 more women before I ran out of course. The last half mile was agonizing - having picked it up to 6:50 pace for the previous mile I was deep in the pain cave and for the first time all race I looked at my watch to try to figure out how much longer I had to handle this. Less than half a mile, 5 more minutes, OK, I can do that. I didn't quite manage to pick off my last target (girl in green shirt from way back when, who had snuck past me somewhere around mile 9) but I crossed the line in 1:34:12, the fastest half I've run in 2 years, and definitely a solid performance in the grand scheme of my racing, particularly given the conditions and my mental struggles throughout the race.

I think this might be one of my favorite race photos of all time lol. Making the pass...and looking like I'm going to punch someone in the face hahaha.

So, overall, I feel like I'm having a pretty decent winter/spring season. My training hasn't been the greatest in terms of high mileage, but I've been pretty consistent and I've been enjoying racing more frequently (or replacing a 16 mile slog long run with a race and a long cooldown) to mix things up. Going into Boston this year I knew that this was my plan, and while I'll admit I sometimes get sucked into the Instagram trap of feeling like "everyone is training for their best Boston/PR/etc, why am I such a lazy poop?" for the most part I'm very happy that I chose to take a more relaxed approach to Boston this year. I've stayed physically healthy (let's not talk about the 2 back to back colds that have killed me in February and March) and feel like I've maintained a lot since my fall season - maybe haven't made any big gains, but I've maintained. I'm racing tomorrow at New Bedford, a half marathon I know and "love" (the eternal headwind from mile 10-11 and the monster hill at mile 3 don't exactly make my heart glow with happiness) and while it's been a sucky week of training over here as I've been sick all week, I'm curious as to how I'll be able to take what I learned from Hampton and see if I can come out with a better time. That's what running is all about, right? Learning, growing, trying your best, and making choices to be the runner you want to be at any point in time. This season, I'm choosing to be a little random and a little unstructured...but quite a lot of fun.

USATF New England Championships
1 mile - 5:47.76
23/35 OA, 8/20 heat
DMR - 13:11:11, 2/6

Flannel "5K" (2.6 miles)
17:25 (6:42 pace)
8th OA, 2nd woman, 1/26 F30-34

Hampton Half Marathon
1:34:12
79/715 OA, 18/415 F, 8/118 F30-39
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Saturday, March 17, 2018

Mile to half marathon - 3 weekends, 3 races!

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