New Bedford Half Marathon Race Report 2016

Great news #1: I actually had a good race!
Great news #2: On my 4th attempt, I FINALLY dressed appropriately for New Bedford!

On Sunday, I raced the New Bedford Half Marathon for the 4th time. This race is such a thing among competitive New England runners that I practically can't imagine doing anything else St. Patrick's Day weekend. Except last year, when I eloped to NYC, but I think we can all agree that the memories made and the huge PR I came away with made that trip worthwhile. This year, with a destination half already in the books, it was time to head back to the delightful streets of New Bedford and do battle there yet again. This course, while somewhat challenging, has always been one I've been able to run well on. Each time I've run this race, I've run a PR. My expectations for Sunday were not quite that lofty; my legs were seriously feeling the impact of several weeks of high mileage and the shakeout run I did the day before the race felt like it could have been done more effectively by a sloth. For the first time in awhile, I was genuinely nervous for a race. I was nervous about my entire left leg - Achilles, hip, et al - behaving. I was nervous about my legs even deciding to show up for the race! And of course, receiving an email from coach Tom entitled "The Teeth of the New Bedford Wind" which basically detailed all of the horrifying ways the wind was going to suck in this race did not do wonders for my confidence.

I ended up staying the night in Joy's guest bedroom before the race which was fantastic, since she lives 2 miles from the course. We carbo-loaded at a lovely little Italian joint right on the course and crashed early...we tried to watch the track worlds, but when we tuned to the channel that said "Track and Field" on the guide it was showing....a muscle car auction. Uh, OK. An 11 am race without a commute means sleeping in until a lusciously late 8 am. I got up and watched Molly Huddle unleash a ferocious kick to win the NYC Half, wished I was there, and then munched on a bagel with PB (first time going with PB instead of butter in like...years) and waited for the rest of our crew to arrive. Now came the most challenging part of the day: outfit selection. The high for the day was 36 and I knew there would be wind, but I also had this sense that every year I've run this race I've found myself too warm at some point or another. I ended up going with arm warmers and capris; looking back I probably could have done shorts but I don't think it made a difference either way.

We started jogging over to pick up our bibs, and the wind was immediately everywhere - it was one of those winds where no matter which direction you're going, it just seems to be THERE. I was still feeling generally not stellar and just way too nervous. I just really, really didn't want this to be awful. I NEEDED this race to be OK. And jogging through New Bedford in a pack with my teammates, I wasn't really sure if it would be.

We picked up our numbers and basically had enough time to stash our stuff in a locker at the Y and then head to the line. We briefly saw Tom who probably said some useful things but I was way too deep in the OH GOD THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW to hear what they were. Then we headed to the line. It was cold and I just wanted to be into it. Luckily I didn't have too long to wait - about 5 minutes later, we were off!

I was planning on going out fairly conservatively, and so I watched Joy and Dana and Taylor go streaming off in front of me. One of the most challenging things about racing with teammates is that while I've learned that I run much better with a more relaxed start, its so damn tempting to stay up with your friends. But I watched them go. My plan was basically to run New Bedford like I've already successfully run New Bedford: go out fairly relaxed and handle the early hills without burning up my legs, cruise the long slight downhill, and then see what's left for the wind and the hill back into the city. So for the first several miles, I had a refrain running through my head: relaxed and smooth and easy. Relaxed and smooth and easy. I must have repeated that to myself 100 times over the course of those first 4 miles. Grand Prix races are awesome because there's great, fast competition, but they also make you feel wicked slow sometimes - I felt like I was just constantly getting passed! Around mile 1 I came up on Joy, who informed me that our first mile split was 6:52 - yikes! Shortly after I came up on Taylor and ran alongside her for a bit before passing and heading off into the hills. There are 3 big rollers between miles 2-4 that get bigger with each one, and while I was aware that my pace would slow a bit as I headed up the hill I was still maintaining the relaxed feeling I was looking for at this point in events. Stay calm up, recover on the down. 3 times, up and over. My splits got kind of screwy on my watch at this point but I think mile 2 was 6:58, mile 3 7:10ish, and mile 4 7:21 - mile 4 is the one with the hill that lasts about a half mile and EVERY YEAR I see a shitty split there and throw a fit about it. Not today! I knew it was coming, looked at it, and promptly forgot about it. Onward!

After cresting the big hill, it was time for my most favorite part of any course ever - about 3 miles of gradual decline, YAY! Unfortunately, despite my relaxed initial pace I wasn't feeling as spectacular on this part of the course as I usually do. My stupid left pelvis/hip niggle decided to say hello around mile 4 and while it never really crossed over into true pain, it was present enough to make me feel like pushing things any further would be a poor life choice. I think there's something really calming and pleasing about running a course you're familiar with, because you know exactly where you are at any given time. The problem with this particular situation was that I was comparing how I felt in the moment to how I remembered feeling 2 years ago, and the answer was "less good". My pace, while OK, was hanging out in the low 7:00s and I vividly remembered throwing down some 6:5x miles in 2014. But for the moment, I felt like I was making the right call with the pace I was at and decided to just continue to try to maintain it. I think there might have even been a 7:15 in there somewhere, which I wasn't thrilled with, but I kind of accepted it and moved on.

Also in the back of my mind was the upcoming wind situation. We were already getting a pretty stiff crosswind whenever there was a break in the buildings on the left, and that did NOT bode well for what was going to happen when we turned into the wind. The lovely downhill stretch seemed to pass much more quickly than I remembered in the past, and soon enough we were passing mile 7, where I saw Brenda and Allison cheering, and getting ready to head towards the wind. Phew. Here we go.

We made the first turn towards the ocean and IMMEDIATELY, it was like being blown backwards. I had mentally prepared for this to happen but it was still kind of a shock having it actually happen. I immediately found a tall Somerville Road Runners guy to tuck in behind and basically decided that whatever pace that he was running at the moment was now my pace until we got rid of this wind. I don't think I've ever managed to draft effectively before, but I actually noticed a significant difference running just off his right shoulder. Around this time, Joy's friend who is much faster than me but who had somehow started in the back of the corrals passed me and asked how I was doing. "Eh, so-so" I responded, which pretty accurately summed up how I felt - not bad, but certainly not great. She reported that she thought Taylor might have dropped, which was a bummer, and then sped off on her way to finishing in 1:30. I had no delusions of going with her, so I stuck behind my guy in yellow and just motored along for a bit. I was pleasantly surprised to see an 8 mile split that was still in the 7:0x range - I really thought I had slowed down more than that. There's a small incline before another turn where I briefly felt like shit, but as soon as I made the turn? I suddenly started to feel a LOT better. As an important side note, this was also the stretch of road where I had to run around what looked like a diaper and/or paper towel literally filled with poop. It smelled like poop. It looked like poop. A guy behind me let out a hearty chuckle when he saw it. It was a very strange thing to see sitting in the middle of the road during a half marathon...I guess that's New Bedford for you. Poop aside, for whatever reason, my legs had suddenly decided that now would be a good time to start rolling. I figured, why not? At this point, I had honestly made my peace with running a 1:34 high/1:35 low - I couldn't imagine with a slower start than 2014 that I was going to manage to pull off anything better than that. So I figured I would just let my legs do what they wanted to do and find out what would happen once we made the turn into the REAL wind at mile 9.5.

I spent some time running with a girl from Cambridge Running Club who I desperately wanted to pass but just couldn't seem to make it happen. I'm sure I was driving her crazy - I kept pulling up right off her shoulder, she would pull away a little bit, and then I'd pull right back up again. There's another turn and a little downhill right before mile 9, and it was at this point that I suddenly saw a familiar red ribbon flying in the distance. It was Dana! I was sort of thinking that she had totally disappeared into the distance forever, so to see her up ahead - I knew I had to go get her. With CRC girl yo-yoing along with me, I felt myself starting to increase the pace, just a little. I figured if I could just get UP with Dana, then I could decide my next move as we headed into the real wind. Slowly but surely, I pulled on the string. I tried not to overthink it, but just kept my eyes on her red bow and saw the distance between us shrinking, bit by bit. Finally, just after mile 9, myself and CRC girl pulled even with her. We exchanged waves and I tried to ask how it was going but Dana had her headphones in, so I decided to just be content with running with this little pack. Unfortunately, just as our pack formed, we turned into the REAL wind; the teeth of the wind, as Tom put it. More unfortunately, the next tall gentleman (or any runner for that matter) to draft off of was a solid 20 feet ahead, a distance which would require a significant pickup which just didn't sound like a good plan while running into a 20 mph headwind at mile 10 of a half marathon.

So then, it was time to make a choice. Originally, once I had caught Dana I had thought that perhaps I should just sit behind her and run it out from there. It felt good to be working with a group and to kind of share the brunt of the wind for awhile. But after a few minutes I suddenly had this bizarre, completely out of character urge to just GO. To push into the wind and see what would happen. For some reason (and this NEVER happens to me late in races) I just had this feeling that if I were willing to make a push, my legs would go with me. I had been thinking about a quote from Tom's email about the wind: "It will suck, but remember, you don't suck". This somehow morphed into a line from the Sia song "Bang My Head": "If you feel like giving up just don't/You might feel like dying but you won't". I kept thinking that in my head as I pushed into the wind: You might feel like dying but - YOU WON'T. Slowly, slowly, I drew away from Dana and the CRC girl. I had no idea if either of them would put up a fight to get back with me but my goal was clear: I fixed my eyes on the next tall dude ahead of me and pushed as hard as I could to get behind him.

Strangely, my experience with the next couple of miles into the wind were actually not that bad. I almost feel guilty saying that, but it's true. It sucked, but it only sucked a little bit. Maybe I had just talked it up so much in my head that I had this idea of how AWFUL it was going to be, and then when it wasn't quite that bad it was amazing, but I just felt like despite the fact that the wind was there, I knew I could push beyond it. It was similar to what I felt at Boston last year, where I had this concept of the wind existing around me, and I knew logically that it was a problem, but physically I just couldn't process it. There was also something to be said for getting past that CRC girl and also for passing Dana, who I consider to be just as strong as a runner as myself. I had been running the whole race thus far under the assumption that she was going to crush me, so getting past her lit up in my brain this funny thought of "huh. You're doing better than you thought. You've passed all the teammates that it's reasonable for you to expect to pass. Why not really try these last 3 miles? Why not?"

Eventually we made the turn away from the water, a glorious reprieve from the wind and also a hilarious example of the New Bedford spectators. As I was coming up on the turn I was kind of by myself and I heard voices cheering but couldn't figure out where they were coming from. Suddenly, I realized there were two little kids in the second story window of the building on the corner of the turn, and as I passed they happened to scream something to the effect of "Nice job! Way to go! Nice relaxing day!" Hahaha I might have almost broken out laughing at the 'nice relaxing day' bit - can't say that's something I've ever heard before from a spectator, especially after fighting a nice headwind for the better part of the last half hour! My mile 11 split was in the low 7s which I couldn't BELIEVE. By this point I was definitely starting to look forward to the whole "not running" thing, but my legs were still pushing forward. Mile 12 was a 6:50 - what?? Then we hit the huge mile 12 hill and UGH, I felt like I had run into a brick wall. Suddenly I wasn't having fun anymore. I feel like last time I raced this course, this hill was shorter than I remembered. This time it felt like it lasted FOREVER. For whatever reason it also seemed like there were fewer spectators out this year, so I just felt like I was running up this endless mountain wasteland by myself. But once I finally crested the beast, I knew that there was half a mile or so to go, and it was time to GO. Just after the top of the hill I saw Tom who shouted some encouragement; he seemed pleased that I was looking reasonably good. Down the ugly row of fast food restaurants I ran, waiting for the last part of this course I knew was coming: a MASSIVE downhill to mile 13. Once I hit the downhill, I basically started sprinting. Everyone who had passed me on the uphill suddenly came right on back - I was flying. My 13 mile split was 7:02 despite the hill, which was pretty awesome. I turned the corner and could see the finish clock somewhere in the high 1:32s. 1:33! I was going to do it! I was finally going to break the string of bad races! I tried my best to kick down the straightaway and pulled even with a GLRR girl. I kept kind of looking at her and my head was thinking "please don't kick please don't kick please don't kick". Well, of course, she turned on the gas into a full sprint the last 50 meters, and what was I supposed to do but respond? So with my last ounce of energy, I turned the cadence up a notch and powered with her, then channeled my inner Molly Huddle and outleaned her at the line! I'm actually laughing in my finisher photo because it was kind of ridiculous.

I walked through the finishing chute and a guy came up to me and said something to the effect of "nice finish! Way to come back from that hill!" I think he was one of the people I passed while sprinting down the final stretch haha. He hadn't run the race before and so was not aware of the mile 12 death hill either - that's not a fun surprise! My left leg pretty much immediately seized up once I stopped running - it had actually been feeling better the past few miles but now, ouch. I grabbed water and my medal, and waited for my teammates. Dana came in shortly after me, followed by Joy and our other friend Ali. Once we were all together, we headed back to the gym to get our stuff from the Y because now that we weren't running, it was COLD. The cooldown back to Joy's house was frankly awful - my leg was hurting, I was exhausted, and I wanted nothing more than to crack open the can of seltzer in my hand and just chug it. We then had brunch with some of the guys team at Joy's recapped our races, and then headed off for some beers. All in all, it was a quality day!

Teammates! <3 p="">
I feel like when I've been thinking about this race this week, I've sort of been "meh" about my time. Sure, it's my second best half ever, but it's not a PR or anything, But then I consider all of the other factors - how bad my legs felt in the week leading up to the race, the fact that I was pretty much still at full training volume, the whole hamstring/butt debacle, and the wind - and I realize that I was able to run a really strong race despite all of those things. Mentally I was tough, and I executed my new go-to race strategy of having something left to finish with perfectly. I surprised myself with how well I handled the wind at a point in the race where I typically sort of give up at the first sign of any obstacle. So thinking about that, this was a really good performance for me! I of course didn't score for our team (and I shouldn't - that would not be good for our team haha) but the women's team ended up winning the team competition which was AWESOME! My butt was kind of a bitch for a couple of days after the race, and I ended up having to take Tuesday off because I was hit with an awful cold in addition to that, but I was able to have a really strong workout on Thursday (4 x 1000 at 10K pace, followed by a 5K tempo) with no pain so I can't have done too much damage. I'm hoping that things are all coming together at just the right time - I can definitely feel the strength from the higher mileage coming through in these workouts and the late stages of races. Last big long run tomorrow - it seems crazy that we're already here! It feels like yesterday that I was getting ready for Boston 2015...I've put a lot more miles in the bank in the last year, and I'm looking forward to seeing the results in a few weeks.

New Bedford Half Marathon
1:33:32
441/2480 OA, 83/1161 F, 36/263 F20-29

RnR New Orleans Half Race Report

Well, it was bound to happen eventually - I had a terrible race this weekend. On paper, 1:36:22 does not look like an atrocious time, but given my hopes/expectations/estimated current fitness...it was a pretty big blow to the old confidence. There were a wide variety of things that I think played into the meltdown I had, but one major factor that I keep thinking about is the abrupt change in my expectations. In the week leading up to the race, I had pretty much written off running a PR or even close, since I know full well I'm a poor warm weather racer and 65-70 was going to be HOT to my New England winter acclimated body. But then, somewhere in the 24 hours before the race, I got the idea into my head that I was going to have this incredible race and run a PR. That, I think, was a big part of my undoing. Luckily, I had a really great experience with the rest of the weekend (and the race itself, I have no complaints about) so the feeling I'm left with is overwhelmingly positive! I'm not mad I did the race, I'm just a little frustrated with my performance - clearly, there are some kinks to be worked out before Boston!

Prerace, I had delightfully uneventful flights down to New Orleans and proceeded through packet pickup without a problem. I then walked over to the hotel and went out for a quick shakeout run - only 3 miles, but better than nothing! - along the Mississippi which was fun. Joy and I ended up randomly going to a New Orleans Pelicans game because the tickets were cheap and really, the only other things to do would have been eating and drinking...far too tempting. The game was actually quite fun (especially the random mascot games that occurred during timeouts...#pierresmascotparty for life) and we got back to the hotel around 10. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised since we were staying less than a block off Bourbon Street, but our next door neighbors were a gang of guys who appeared to have come to town for one reason: to drink as much as possible. Thanks to some extremely thin walls I felt like I became friends with them, particularly one guy named Dave who had many stories about the times that he had been "totally sober..and then WHAM! BAM! I was drunk!". Thankfully, they departed for the bars around 11 - just in time for us to go to bed!

Race day dawned, and I awoke not to my alarm, but Dave and company returning from the bars full of stories about the large women who had attempted to abduct them into their van. Luckily it was close enough to my wake up call anyway. Soon enough we were up and getting ready - I had bought an iced coffee the night before and put it in the ice tub which actually worked out perfectly for morning caffeine intake, and I also ate a banana and half of a Clif bar (the second part, I think was a mistake). Also a mistake: I think I only drank about 6 oz of water before leaving the hotel room. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But a\s we warmed up towards the start, I was excited! I mean, sure I was sweating and absolutely did not need to be wearing warmups (never a good sign), but my legs felt good and I saw no reason why today couldn't be an awesome day.

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Pre-race, when everything was still exciting

We headed into the corrals and were trying to figure out where we should line up when I ran into Grace! I guess wearing a Greater Boston singlet in a race nowhere close to there helps to pick you out of a crowd. She was getting ready to run her comeback marathon, and it was fun meeting her in real life! I wished her good luck and we headed up a few more rows...then it was time to go! Bullhorns! Music! Excitement! Possibility! Gotta love race starts. 

For exactly one mile, things went more or less according to plan. I had decided in my fit of "wait, I AM going to run a PR!" madness the previous night that I was going to try to go out in 6:50 and see how long I could hold on. Well. Turns out the answer to that question on this particular day was ONE LOUSY MILE. Things basically felt OK up until the mile mark, but pretty much immediately after that they took a turn for the worse - not really what you want to have happen at mile 2/13. The first section of the course was a long out and back through the Garden District, which was lovely and perhaps more importantly, shaded. I perceived that we were running downhill but in reality I think I'm just REALLY not used to running on flats! But despite the shade and the flatness, problems continued to emerge. Problem #1 was nausea. Between about miles 2-4 I basically just felt like I was going to barf. I tried to slow down the pace a bit in the hopes that it would help and it did - a little bit. But not really enough to decrease my concerns. I took some water at the first opportunity, hoping that THAT would solve my problems. And it pretty much did fix the stomach issues...what it did not fix was the fact that my legs just felt totally unresponsive. After the opening mile, I slowed down to 7:10ish and pretty much accepted that that was where I might be for the rest of the day. But THAT still felt hard! WTF was going on?

As I tried to figure out what my stupid body wanted or needed, I tried to at least look at the crowd and the stuff that was going on around me. I've never done a Rock N Roll race before and I will admit that I enjoyed the bands, etc. that they had out on the course. On the way out we passed a jazz band which was also the point where I decided that someone with a tuba should always be around when I'm running. There were also some hilarious little New Orleans touches, like the group of spectators handing out king cake at mile 3, or the mimosa table around mile 5. Oh, how I wish I'd just gone for the mimosa!  We continued running out, and things didn't seem to be getting worse but they sure as hell weren't getting better either. By the time we hit the turnaround, I was becoming mildly concerned. Interestingly, my splits seem to indicate that 5K-10K was my most consistent section of the race, and there were moments that I did start to feel just slightly better. I heard "Don't Stop Believin'" at one point and that was exciting, although whoever was playing it cut it off in favor of another song, party foul! But I still felt like literally transforming into a unicorn was more of a possibility than running a sub-7 mile, to my great frustration. "Well, maybe if you stay relaxed enough here, you'll have something left for a kick at the end!" I thought to myself. Oh, self. How very, VERY wrong you were.

Things had already thinned out somewhat after the turnaround, and I found myself briefly in conversation with a girl who apparently used to run for WMDP. This was quite possibly the most annoying thing that could have happened to me, as she looked to be bouncing along, loving life, practically skipping down the course and asking me what brought me to this race. Meanwhile, I was pondering the meaning of life and why I choose to put myself through such torture, and could barely summon the strength to answer. Slog, slog, slog. I noticed my pace dipping into the 7:20s and felt my life force draining away. I was running my goal MARATHON pace. Ugh. Some clog dancers distracted me for a second, and a sign that literally just said "Fuck you, run harder" propped up by the side of the road also made me pick it up briefly, but in general I was just riding the struggle bus, and there were wayyy too many miles still left to go. I was getting some great "Go Greater Boston" and "GBTC" cheers along the way, and I wished I could be representing the club better. 

I took my Gu at mile 7, again, in the hopes that it would spark something, ANYTHING, in the useless things known as my legs. Maybe I was hungry. Maybe I needed salt. Maybe I was dehydrated...there had to be SOME reason why this was becoming such a mess. The Gu perked me up ever so briefly (or it may have been the water I dumped over my head). And then we turned off the lovely shady road and onto a blazingly sunny industrial street and all I could think was "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!"

I took this photo on the streetcar the next day just to remember the horror of this turn

I realize this whole thing is sounding extremely dramatic, but it's just been such a long time since I had a race just go so spectacularly wrong that I wasn't even sure how to process it. Everything just sucked. In retrospect, it's pretty obvious that I was a) dehydrated, b) just not having a good day, and c) hot, but none of those things felt like they were good enough excuses. I feel like I can be OK about feeling terrible if I'm running fast, because obviously running fast is hard and it hurts. But the problem was, I wasn't running fast! And I was barely able to hang on to the pace I was running - 30 seconds slower than the pace I was hoping to run. I think that's what was really making me feel miserable. We eventually turned off the sunny road and I had another slightly uplifting moment with this cool acapella group (there were possibly also some kind of pipe/drums involved). But any happiness I had left shattered when I saw I had just run a 7:34 split. And that slowdown had not helped me feel better, not even a little bit. 

My 10 mile split was actually reasonable at 1:12:15 - that's technically a PR - but then I just fell apart so spectacularly the last 3 miles that there's really not much to say. I ran a 7:40 mile 11 and when I saw that split on my watch I just wanted to cry. I FELT so terrible that I couldn't believe I was going that slowly. I then tried to make an effort to pick it up and was rewarded with...a 7:37. Ouch. Add to all this that somewhere around mile 7 my left hamstring/butt problem that has been bothering me on and off started tightening up and I felt it for the remainder of the race, and I was just not enjoying my day. At this point, the goal had just become survival. Finally at mile 12, in similar fashion to a bad day I had at Boston way back in the day, I mentally told myself "well, you have to TRY". It's not that I wasn't trying - because man, was I ever trying - but in that moment I felt like I had to be wimping out on myself somehow, that it couldn't actually be as bad as I was making it out to be. Honestly, I think it kind of was. I apparently managed to pull it together enough to run 7:23 pace for the last 1.1 miles (super kick, that) and crossing the finish line I felt nothing other than pure relief to no longer be running. About 10 seconds later though, my relief turned to frustration. This was it? This was ALL I had to give after a huge last 6 weeks of training, was the exact same freaking time as I ran 6 weeks ago but feeling much worse? My butt hurt and I was so thirsty and I just sat and grumped on the curb for a few minutes while I waited for Joy to come through the chute. 

As it turned out, Joy and I had had virtually identical experiences on the course! We were both pretty disappointed - I think knowing that the course was so flat, we had both had kind of high hopes about how we would run, but clearly that wasn't in the cards. We begrudgingly headed out to cooldown in order to get 17 miles on the day, and got to cheer on some marathoners as we went which definitely picked me up. After the cooldown we decided to grab some beers and head to another spot on the course to cheer for the marathoners coming it - yay for New Orleans lack of open container laws, meaning we could bring our beers wherever our hearts desired! Watching runners come through just before the 26 mile mark, most everyone looked rough. The heat was clearly taking its toll, and I was thankful that at least my poop race hadn't lasted an additional 13.1 miles. After watching for awhile, we headed back to the festival area to say hi and congrats to Grace again, and got some great recommendations of things to do in New Orleans - SO helpful since we really had no game plan for the rest of the day, and we got to see some gems of places that we definitely wouldn't have found otherwise!

Spirits lifted after cheering on some marathoners

Our rough races over and at least partially forgotten, we moved on to the more important part of the day: EATING AND DRINKING! This part of the trip is probably best shown through photos...

The wait for po-boys was totally worth it. Followed up my catfish poboy with a beer at Bayou Beer Garden, which was also delightful. We took the streetcar back downtown and after a brief siesta (aka an absolutely amazing 40 minute nap) we went back out on the town!

Alas, our original oyster happy hour destination was really crowded, so we ended up going somewhere else. I know pretty much nothing about oysters (this was really my first experience with them) but I enjoyed them! Also, there was a college track meet on TV at the bar, which was both weird and awesome. 

Possibly my new favorite bar, and this shandy was DELICIOUS. Hilariously, we also ended up in a small back room with room for ~8 people, and all of the people were runners - 4 of them were even from New England! Small world, and it was a fun coincidence having a little runner party, trading insights on New England races, and chatting about our races that day with our new friends.

When on Bourbon Street...you spend way too much money on a silly frosty drink that you can carry around outdoors.

My legs felt HORRENDOUS the day after the race - probably a combination of race pain, walking around in flip flops, and dehydration - and the thought of going for a shakeout run was almost too much to handle. But, with assistance from some ibuprofen (I know, I know) I managed a verrrry easy 6 miles that wasn't too atrocious. We ran out on the St. Charles streetcar tracks, so basically the course we had been on the day before, and then did a loop around Audubon Park which was lovely. Then we took the St. Charles streetcar back downtown for yet more food and drinks. We ended up taking an Uber to Bacchanal, which came recommended and did NOT disappoint. It looks rather sketchy from the outside, but inside it is a delightful land of wonders.

ALL FOR MEEEEEE

We also made a stop at Cafe du Monde as well as looping around to a few more bars/restaurants before calling it a night. I did finally have an actual hurricane (not the awkward frosty variety) and...wow...it tasted like the mysterious concoctions that we used to make in a cooler or a gatorade tub back in college, which is to say it was delicious, and very strong. A good ending to the New Orleans experience.

As for post race thoughts, well, I'm not really sure what to think. It's definitely discouraging to run a time that ranks in the bottom 4 out of 10 half marathons when you've been training harder than ever and feel like you're in really good shape. I keep reminding myself that there were MANY factors at play including warm temps, poor hydration before the race, long day of air travel pre race, a pre-race dinner that was not what I'd normally eat, the fact that I ran this race in the midst of full training and didn't taper, the fact that a flat course actually may have been more challenging because it's not what I'm used to, my ongoing butt saga, etc. None of these are excuses, though, for the fact that my legs simply didn't show up on Sunday. That happens, sometimes, I guess, it's just been quite awhile since it's happened to me. I think the half marathon is a tougher distance for me than the marathon, because I still don't have a good strategy for it - the question of how hard is too hard to go out isn't one I've figured out. Maybe at some point I'll take a season away from racing the full to work some more on racing halfs, since I do think I have room to improve in the distance! I placed reasonably well in the grand scheme of the race (237th OA/11K+, 42nd woman/7800, 10th AG/991), so that was nice. I just really want to get to that next level, and so this isn't the kind of progress (or lack thereof) that I want to be seeing. Still, my favorite theory of training has always been from Once A Runner - the idea that it's a spiral, not a straight line, and sometimes you have to feel like you're going backwards to really move forwards. I'd happily sacrifice this race if I knew it meant running a great Boston in 7 weeks, so I can only hope that this is just a small downward spiral that is building towards catapulting me even higher. And, I had an awesome weekend in New Orleans, so that can't be discounted! 

Super Sunday 5M, and the week that followed

Last weekend I raced the Super Sunday 5 Miler, one of my favorite yearly races and one of the only short races I try to get to on a regular basis. It's a great race, really well organized and very competitive, with a fun beerfest/party afterward. Last year, this race was sort of a breakthrough for me as I was pleasantly surprised at how fast I ran. This year my expectations were higher: I had a goal of running at least 6:45 pace, and in conjunction with that I wanted to PR. It seemed like a fairly simple task; I think I'm just as fit if not fitter than this time last year, and the weather forecast (sunny, high 30s/low 40s) was MUCH more pleasant than last years brisk 17 degrees. Alas, after fighting a cold Mon-Wed of the week prior, I woke up on Sunday feeling awful, with chest and sinus congestion and maybe even a touch of low grade fever (no, running 16 miles in a snowstorm on Friday probably didn't help my immune system, why do you ask?). Add to that the fact that I was still suffering from some serious DOMS from that whole running 16 miles on snow thing, and you get some STELLAR conditions to race in. Sigh.

I didn't want to do it. It's rare to go into a race that you just know is going to be awful, because there's no way it can't be awful, and it's not a pleasant feeling. I started my warmup. I felt OK, but already like I was putting too much effort into running at a jog. I met up with some teammates and we headed to the line. I asked for some blessings from the running gods that this not be a TOTAL embarassment, and then it was just time to get it over with.

I felt terrible pretty much as soon as I started running, and it never really got any better. My quads and calves were burning right out of the gate and my face felt like it was going to explode with the pressure. I tried to just stay relaxed and not think about the seemingly constant stream of people passing me, and just worry about making it through this damn thing. I came through the first mile around 6:40, which was actually somewhat surprising. I knew that there was no way I was holding that pace for the whole five miles on the day I was having today, but it did give me some hope that maybe I would manage to salvage this from being a total disaster, and so I tried to stay relaxed and keep going. I was actually able to maintain a pretty reasonable pace through miles 2 and 3, coming through the 3 mile mark just under 20:30. Through all of that, I was feeling OK - not awesome, not good enough to even remotely try to push the pace, but I think once my body got adjusted to the idea of running the soreness and the congestion became just sort of a constant level of background discomfort. That was all well and good until about mile 3.5, at which point my body was basically just over the whole thing. Snot and spit were flying everywhere, my legs were toast, and I just wanted this slog to the finish line to be over so I could stop running. I definitely slowed over mile 4, which I'm guessing was right around 7 minutes flat. The last mile was just a death march of wanting it to be over; after being basically a straight out and back for the first 4 miles, the last mile takes several awkward twists and turns where you feel like you're much closer to the finish than you actually are. Add to that the fact that I was starting to feel my high hamstring tie up, and it was just time to get this over with. As I turned the corner and could actually see the finish line, I saw low 34s up on the clock. Well thank God, that wasn't a total disaster. I crossed the line in 34:24, feeling absolutely like a hot mess.

An important component of this race are the free photos. Every year at this 5 miler, I receive the gift of an absolutely hideous finishing photo hahaha. This is one of those pictures where I feel EXACTLY as bad as I look.

I managed to rally on the post-run high enough to enjoy the beerfest for a bit with some teammates after the race - tried a couple of tasty beers I hadn't had before from Victory and Anti Villian. My teammate Aly, who is just crushing her training, got 2nd overall and really killed it, and of course the GBTC team came in first (teams were scored by top 3 men and women...since our top 3 women went 1, 2, 4 in the race, I think that pretty much sealed the deal. Fast ladies!)

The race was much more fun after it was over

I actually had to look up my time from the previous year, because I knew it was similar, but turns out I ran just 7 seconds slower than the year before. Now, here's where I get a little bit stupid: that REALLY bothered me. I chose to completely ignore all of the relevant facts about the race (I was sick, the running that had occurred in the previous days) and ONLY focus on the fact that I ran slower. But no. All I could think was the fact that I ran slower this year, the fact that I really should be running faster than 6:53 pace for short races if that's my goal HALF MARATHON pace, how will I EVER be able to do that if I can't even do it for 5 miles? And on and on. It was really so damn stupid - a normal human would be like "dude, I basically ran the same time as last year, even though I'm sick and still recovering from something really tough I did! That's awesome!"  I let the negativity sort of drag me into Tuesday's track workout, my first in awhile, where I ran not quite as fast as I wanted to and got all grumpy about it. Stupid!  I guess it was really just a week where I felt like I want to be getting faster, and I don't seem to be getting faster. How do I do it? How do I get faster? Sometimes the doubts creep in that maybe I just can't get faster, though I know that can't be true. Add to that a little personal life dramz (let's just say that while I've accepted for the most part the fact that my relationship is a little atypical and the standard date for a couple years -> get engaged -> get married formula does not apply - it's been 8+ years, there are times when that fact makes me feel slightly less than adequate or satisfied and this weekend was one of those times) and I was feeling far too introspective and mopey for my own good. 

I watched the Trials on Saturday and was totally excited and inspired by watching these women and men compete, both up front really running for Olympic spots and in the back of the pack, just achieving a dream. Feeling all inspired, I went out for my easy run...and it sucked! But I thought about the fact that each and every one of those women who stood on that line earlier in the day had also, in the days and months and weeks and years that led up to achieving their dream, had had runs that sucked. We all do. 

So then, FINALLY, all of this story leads up to my long run on Sunday. A lovely day with a HIGH of 11 degrees and windchills resulting in "feels like" temperatures ranging from -6 to -20 throughout the day. It was so, so tempting to just put it off until Monday, but I was motivated by, of all stupid things, FINALLY getting a damn 50 mile week in. So, off I went. I made a route that was basically 2 big loops, with a smaller out and back at the end, giving me 3 opportunities to bail to the treadmill if it really was that bad. The first 3 or 4 miles I felt awful. My legs just weren't moving and my stomach hurt and I was just like...how am I going to get through 18 miles this way. Once all was said and done I realize that the reason I felt this way is because I thought I was running like 8:15 miles and I...uh...wasn't. #noGPSproblems. All of a sudden around mile 4, something clicked. I was listening to a song that was like a remix of ABC, 123 (After looking it up, it's "Easy Love" - Sigala). It was catchy, the sun was shining, I was almost done with my first loop, and all of a sudden I was like...yeah. Yeah! Yeah! I thought the feeling was just because I was running too fast 4 miles into my long run, but the feeling stayed. The WHOLE run. 

I kept looking at my watch and feeling like I had to have screwed up mapping my route, or something, because there was no way I could be running this fast. But the information I was getting from my legs while I was running confirmed that yeah, this FELT like I was running fast. It just felt completely and utterly fantastic. I stopped around mile 9 to grab some water and take a Gu, and when I started again I felt like I had barely been running at all. In the later stages of the run my face kind of started to hurt from the wind, and I questioned whether I might be getting frostbite, but my legs never once caved in. It was a feeling that I've never experienced before on a long run: the feeling of strength, even in the later stages of the run, a feeling that my legs could go on indefinitely. It was absolutely spectacular. I felt like after weeks of tapping on the glass of being fit, the window had finally shattered and I was through. As soon as I got home, I immediately mapped and re-mapped the course to confirm - I even ran an extra loop of ~0.25 which I timed but didn't count in distance, just to account for any mapping error. And sure enough: I had just run 18 miles in 7:32 pace. Now granted, there were of course quite a few stops for traffic, water, etc...but that is faster than my current marathon PR pace. And it absolutely felt like I could go faster! It was, in short, exactly what I needed after a week of confidence decreasing runs, because now I feel like I'm ready to take the next 9 weeks and make myself faster.

A long run of ridiculousness

This is the first of several very belated posts I've been meaning to write! I'm trying to write more often than just race reports, because I always come up with great ideas for blogs when I'm out running and then never actually write them down. This is an account of my long run last weekend, which was probably one of the more ridiculous things I've ever done.

Because I raced last Sunday I had set up my schedule to do my long run on Friday - no big deal, it was a step back week of only 16 miles and we close early on Fridays, so I figured I'd at least have a couple hours of daylight to get most of the miles in. Little did I know that the first major snowstorm of the year was going to roll in on Friday...OK, no big deal, I thought, the storm is supposed to stop by around 4, so it will be pretty much over by the time I'm getting started. No problem! Ohhhh, optimism. Of course because of the weather pretty much no clients showed up to work, and we ended up closing at 11:30, which was pretty much when the snow was the worst. And what did I do? I sucked it up, and I went for my run.

If you really want to gain an understanding of just how much of a difference there is between you, the competitive runner, and other people, go out and run 16 miles in the middle of a snowstorm. The reactions of my coworkers to the fact that I was leaving the office on foot ranged from impressed to horrified to downright concerned for my safety/sanity. This is not something a normal person would do. But in my opinion, being normal is highly overrated.

About to start: What am I getting myself into?

My plan was to run about 3 miles over to the Newton Hills, do an out and back on the course, and then find my way back home to Cambridge. This was probably the best possible scenario given the weather, since the carriage road in the hills tends to be at least somewhat passable compared to unshoveled sidewalks. The trek over to the hills, however, was entirely absurd. I was literally sliding through 4-6 inches of snow on the sidewalks, trying not to slide backwards downhill or fall. At one point I almost wiped out because I stepped off the sidewalk (couldn't see where it ended). I felt like I was running approximately 10 minute mile pace. I was listening to the Oiselle "Woman Up LA" playlist on Spotify, and as I was floundering through the snow the song "Heroes" came on. The lyric "Everyday people do everyday things, but I can't be one of them" really resonated with me at that moment. I don't want to be ordinary; I want to be more than that, and doing crazy crap like this makes me feel like I'm doing my best to be extraordinary.

Excellent. 

I finally arrived to the Newton hills and the light layer of slush/ice felt like the world's most perfect running surface compared to what I had been running through previously. I got into a pretty good groove for awhile on the way out towards the firehouse, and the turnaround came up quickly. At this point, aside from a few nasty gusts of wind that sent snow painfully flying into my eyes, I really hadn't been all that uncomfortable. I was thinking - how great! Only like 10 miles to go! No problem.  The way back through Newton started to get slightly more uncomfortable. The footing was getting worse, to the point where I actually shouted "yayyyyy!" as I had to pull over to let a plow go past. I also had an experience that was rather terrifying when I was running under some trees and suddenly heard a cracking sound that sounded...not quite right. A split second later I realized what that sound meant and went sprinting off to the other side of the road, only to turn back and see a gigantic tree branch come falling right where I had been seconds earlier. I run in fairly pedestrian environments compared to some (no trails, no mountains, no wildlife encounters) and I can't say I've had a "holy shit I almost just died" experience while on a long run before, but let's just say it took a mile or so before my heart rate returned to normal, and I found myself staying well away from any large trees for the remainder of the run. I hadn't even considered the weight of the snow pulling down tree branches, but I saw several more large tree limbs on the ground and some power lines that looked dangerously close to collapsing on my way back. Scary!

Happy to still be alive at the Johnny Kelley statue

I made it up and over Heartbreak and with 5 or 6 miles to go was looking forward to just grinding out the remainder of the run and being done with it. The 3 miles I ran through Brighton, however, pretty much made me want to stop ASAP. The footing was HORRENDOUS, and where I wasn't clomping through 6 inches of snow, I was sliding back and forth on slush. I debated bagging the run at Harvard, which would give me 13 miles on the day, but by the time I got there it seemed to make more sense to just gut it out and at least get the mileage I wanted out of this ridiculous experience.  The snow had been fluctuating in intensity throughout the run but it never really stopped, and the ground conditions just kept getting worse. At this point my feet were soaked, I was caked in ice, my face was bright red, and my legs were no longer interested in continuing to fight the powder for leverage to move forward. But I didn't stop. I kept moving forward until I arrived at my front door and with much relief, was able to peel off the ice covered layers and defrost in my bathtub (side note: the Craft jacket I'm wearing is absolutely INCREDIBLE - despite the fact that it was heavily snowing and my legs, head, etc were soaked, nothing seemed to get through that jacket. Amazing).

Proof of insanity. 

Because my GPS has decided to bite the dust, I used my good old stopwatch to time the run and didn't have an exact distance, but I was basically expecting to have averaged something pretty slow. I was quite pleasantly surprised to have averaged 8:17 pace for the run - something tells me that includes some 7:45 miles as well as some 9:00 miles. Given the conditions, I feel like that's nothing to complain about! The fatigue from this run was a lot different than a typical long run - I didn't so much have the aching, heavy legs sensation as the fact that I was just straight up SORE. My calves, quads, and hip flexors all were decidedly unhappy about the work they'd had to put in to propel me 16 miles through a snowstorm. As for me, I was pretty happy to have put my head down and gotten it done in some tough conditions, though I had a bad feeling that my 5 mile race on Sunday was going to be impacted as a result. But that's a post for another day!

January Recap

I've long given up on doing weekly mileage recaps, as many bloggers seem to do - I feel like every training cycle I do one weekly post, forget about it, and promptly cease blogging until my next race report. Monthly recaps seem much more doable. So January, overall, was quite a good month. Despite some hiccups that prevented me from quite reaching my planned mileage, I actually ran over 200 miles in January for the first time EVER - including 4 previous Boston training cycles! Clearly, my intention to run more miles per day, as well as inspiration from friends who are running way more than me, is doing the trick. January by the numbers...

Total mileage: 206

Races: 2 (half marathon and 3K indoor track)

Long runs: 16, 17, 18 (half marathon + warmup/cooldown), 17 (track race + warmup/long cooldown), 18

Average weekly mileage: 45 (week of the awkward butt injury brought this average down from ~47)

Strength workouts: More than I did in December!

Post 18-miler on the last day of January...IN T-SHIRTS!

In non-running related news, I also read a TON in January. Books read for the month:

-Blindsight (Peter Watts): a quite creepy sci fi book that is a first contact story, but it's also set in a future Earth setting where humans basically augment themselves in whatever way they desire (cognitively, physically, etc) and much of everyone's time is spent in virtual space. It's weird, took me a bit to warm up to it, but overall I liked it. 4 stars.

-Two Hours: The Quest to Run the Impossible Marathon (Ed Caesar): YES, everyone who is a runner or who is vaguely interested in running should definitely read this book. You can tell the author is a journalist, because the book is written in a very approachable way and seamlessly weaves in and out between its "main" storyline about Geoffery Mutai and various bits of marathon history, including the rise of the marathon's popularity, doping, early marathon champions, and more. I loved it. 5 stars.

-The Cuckoo's Calling (Robert Gailbraith aka JK Rowling): A detective story that was nothing particularly mind blowing, but a fun read with some good twists. 4 stars.

-After Dark (Haruki Murakami): After reading 1Q84 last year and loving it, I've been curious to read more Murakami. This was far less bizarre than the other books I've read by him, which made it a little less interesting. I still think he has a great way of describing really ordinary things in a really lovely way. 3.5 stars.

-Salvage The Bones (Jesmyn Ward): This book has been sitting on my shelf for ages, and thanks to my "challenge" this year that involves reading books in a variety of categories, I picked it up to use as my National Book Award winner. Honestly, I liked it more than I expected to. It was pretty depressing and sort of horrible in many ways, but the writing was really lovely. My benchmark for "books about people in horrible situations that still manage to be absolutely compelling and gorgeous" is A Constellation of Vital Phenomena, and this wasn't quite to that level, but I still enjoyed it, in it's own way. 4 stars

I'm currently reading The Boys in the Boat, and I can already tell it's going to be a 5 star book. Who would have thought reading about a crew race that took place 80 years ago in a book could actually give me an adrenaline rush?

As far as running goes, February has started obnoxiously as I came down with a cold on Monday that pretty much knocked me out of commission by Wednesday, resulting in an unplanned day off. The past 2 weeks just have not been stellar for me! This was supposed to be the week I finally hit 50 miles, and at this point that pretty much rides on my motivation to do a 4 mile cooldown or warmup on Sunday..we shall see haha. Happily, I seem to be bouncing back and am hoping for a solid "down week" long run with some faster stuff built into it tomorrow...of course, the one week I have to do my long run on a Friday we're having a snowstorm. It's been 50 all week which is totally bizarre for February, so I actually find this somewhat amusing. I'm also racing again on Sunday! Another short race, the Super Sunday 5 Mile. I did this race last year and I remember being pleasantly surprised at how fast I was able to run without feeling like death. Sadly, I think running a time I'm going to be happy with isn't going to come so easily this year. That's the problem with training harder and hopefully getting faster - you've actually got to back it up in races! Maybe the fact that it won't be 7 degrees and I won't have to wear 2 pairs of tights will help this year, hah. We shall see!

Training updates, and...a track race report?!

The last couple of weeks have had some ups and downs on the training front...I actually felt reasonably good for an easy run on Monday after the race last weekend. After taking a planned day off on Tuesday to see a running related movie (Run Free, about Micah True aka an ultrarunner from the book Born to Run - it was actually pretty interesting!), I was raring to go and get some solid miles in the rest of the week. Unfortunately, I started having problems with my left hip/butt about halfway through my run on Wednesday. This is actually an issue I've dealt with before but it's never come up during training, so it's kind of frustrating to have it rear it's head on an easy run. I'm pretty sure the muscle involved is one of my hip internal rotators that's tightening up, in this case probably due to the extreme windchill we had on Wed. It's one of the more painful problems I've dealt with and basically feels like something is being ripped off my pelvis - lovely. I'm pretty sure it's a combination of I finished the run but was in quite a bit of pain afterwards, which set me up for an unplanned day off Thursday. BOO. I feel like I've been on such a roll with racking up some good mileage, and was really excited to hit 50 this week, so this was a total bummer. Things were feeling somewhat better on Friday, so I ran 8 miles at an extremely easy pace with a maximum of maybe 2/10 pain, which I felt was acceptable. Saturday I went out for another 8 miler, during which I felt GREAT - it had just started snowing and it was just a beautiful afternoon on the bike path. Unfortunately, I slipped on some ice and in the process of catching myself aggravated the muscle again. It was pretty painful, but I was able to finish the run, although over the remainder of the evening I could tell it was irritated and I started becoming more and more nervous about my race the next day.

Race...what race? You might be asking yourself. Well...in a fit of insanity on Tuesday night, I decided to sign up to race the 3K at the indoor track meet my club hosts every year. I really have no explanation beyond the fact that there is some kind of weird allure of the track for me, and every once in awhile I feel the need to go expose myself to it in a racing situation. Never mind the fact that it's been 7 years since I raced a 3K, 3 years since I raced on a track at all, and now I'm dealing with a weird injury...what could go wrong?

Race day came and my butt still felt awful. I made it half a mile on my warmup before having to stop to stretch and all I could think was "I have to scratch. I have to. There's no way I can do this". But for whatever stupid, ill-advised reason, I REALLY wanted to run this stupid race. I'm not sure who I was trying to prove something to, or maybe it was the fact that I haven't scratched from a race since high school, but the thought of not racing just made me too sad. So I did a very bad thing, something I've never done before: I took a hefty dose of ibuprophen and hoped that it would get me through the race (and let's not forget about the 11 mile cooldown that had to follow). Spoilers! It did. By the time I got to the track about 20 minutes later, the pain had died down to a completely acceptable level and I decided to go ahead and try to race - if I had to drop out, I had to drop out.

Besides the fact that I wasn't sure if my leg was going to hold up to 3000 meters of fast running on the track, there was also the whole "I have to run 3000 meters fast on the track" part. This is a race that I dabbled in briefly my senior year of college and I have raced I think maybe 4 times? One of which I was tripped and wiped out in and another where I doubled with the mile and ran poorly in both. I don't think I ever knew how to run a 3K strategically and if I ever did, I had certainly forgotten all of that by now. I was actually extremely happy when I went to check in and discovered that there were 3 heats, and I was in the slow heat. I know where I stand in the greater Boston track scene...and trust me, I belong in the slow heat. Tom saw me and I think was mildly amused that I was there - time after time, he thinks I've disappeared, and time after time I show up, hah. Finally, it was time to get going. There was a good 10 minutes of confusion where they were going to combine the two open sections because there had been a bunch of scratches (nooo). However, once they got all 20ish of us on the line, the officials quickly realized that this was just too many people for one heat, and I was once again pushed into heat 3, aka "the heat that no one cares about, and for that I am glad". Tom said "I think you can win this one!" - bold, considering I was seeded 5th, lol.

My heat consisted primarily of girls from the Northeastern Track Club, and I kind of felt like I'd come full circle. 7 years ago, I was them, giggling nervously in a circle with my teammates and cheering on friends as they raced in the faster heats. On the line next to a girl who I knew was at least 7 years my junior, I felt a little bit of pride for the fact that despite being quite a few years out of college, I'm still here and still doing this. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, we were FINALLY on the line. And as always...runners set...and the crack of the gun.

It's always weird writing a race report for a track race - we ran in circles! I pretty much immediately found myself almost in last off the line, which kind of annoyed me, but my annoyance evaporated as we came through the first lap in 40 seconds (a short lap, but still). Some of these girls had to have gone out too fast. I wasn't in the mood to find out what kind of carnage I'd become if I went out in a 6:05 mile, so I just tried to relax and calm down. I found myself off the shoulder of one of the Northeastern girls, which was pretty much where I stayed for the entire race. I eventually made passes on a different NU girl and a Fitchburg State girl, and still I was running behind the same person. I came through the mile in 6:20, and my dreams of running a PR (which would take exactly 6:20 pace) sort of evaporated - I could not see myself running any faster than I was presently. Maybe it was the Advil, but I didn't feel my leg at all during the race - what I did feel, however, was the right kind of pain, the race-pain, and that was preventing me from going any faster. (After the fact, I thought about it and realized that I also probably held my stride back a bit to prevent the pain from coming on, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time). Tom kept yelling nice things at me, as he had promised (before the race he told me: "You're going to run, and I'll yell helpful things at you! Like Go Audrey!" I think my favorite was around maybe a mile and a quarter, he just said "that's perfect!". At that point I was feeling a little annoyed about the fact that I couldn't seem to pick it up, so hearing that, at that moment, really was helpful. My thing in longer distance races or workouts on the track is counting up or counting down laps and just repeating the number over and over to myself in my head until I get through that lap - 5, 5, 5, 5. 3, 3, 3, 3. With 2 laps to go I was starting to feel downright unpleasant, and much as I tried I couldn't get up the power to get past the NU girl. Bell lap, FINALLY. At that point, she took off and I just had nothing to cover the move (In my head, I was thinking but I'm MARATHON training! I can't kick! I have to run 11 miles after this, no fair!) The last lap seemed to take all day, and as I turned for the home straight I saw the clock ticking 11:50ish. Shit shit shiiiiiiit. I WILL GET THERE BEFORE THAT 11 BECOMES A 12! I found some last gasp of speed to turn it on and squeak (and I mean squeak) under 12. That actually was pleasing - I had given up on a PR somewhere about 7 laps back, so to at least come in in the 11 minute range for my second best time at the distance was nice.

One great thing about track meets is that they make for EXCELLENT race photos! Photo by Tom Derderian (which he emailed to me with the caption "smooth and relaxed", heh). 

I think I beat a grand total of 3 people, which is kind of sad, but you know what, the field that turned out for this meet was pretty strong and I was proud of how I ran! And honestly, at the end of the day racing on the track just makes me happy. It takes me back to all of the years that I spent becoming the runner that I am, and of so many great memories of college that mostly relate to running. Road racing is a whole different animal, and sometimes it's kind of fun to just be out there on display, "performing" as Tom put it, for the entire race in front of an audience. I definitely plan to do this meet again next year, hopefully in a slightly less painful state. One thing that is funny, as I think about it later, is that the 3K was really where I realized that distance was my calling when I ran it for the first time all those years ago. The post I wrote after I ran my PR in February 2009 reads "I love long distance. Who would have ever guessed?" I'm not sure even I could have guessed that 7 years later I would still love, still be running fast, and faster! It's just so cool. That's also one of my favorite things about having had this blog for so long, is to be able to look back and see where I came from, and to see that some things never change.

I caught my breath and wandered over to the merchandise area where I downed a Hint water they were giving out - love that stuff, also I had the track dry mouth like whoa - and talked to Aly briefly before sadly heading out on my "cooldown". In the end, it actually turned out to be quite pleasant. It was a beautiful sunny, low 30s day, and I headed out onto the course just up to the top of Heartbreak and back. My leg was still being cooperative for the most part, and while tired from the race I actually felt OK for the most part. I started out pretty slow, around 8:30 pace, but eventually picked it up to sub 8s over the last few miles because I was feeling pretty good. I stopped around mile 9 to grab a sub at Subway and MAN that sub tasted fantastic when I got back to the track. I then spent the next hour volunteering holding tape at the hammer throw (an event I have never watched, but was weirdly fascinating) and cheering on a teammate in the 800. Through all of this I had convinced myself that perhaps things had just worked themselves out and it wasn't just the anti inflammatories keeping my leg together....but alas, that wasn't the case. By the time I got home, I knew I'd made a mistake. Even just walking hurt and taking off my pants was a project - standing on one leg = no.  By the time I went to bed, I was concerned that I'd totally screwed myself by stubbornly refusing to scratch.

I did it for the Insta...maybe.

That brings us to this week. I ended up taking Monday-Wednesday off of running. Monday my leg felt awful and I actually took some more Advil in the hopes it would just calm things down. Tuesday things still weren't feeling great; I ended up doing a completely worthless 'cardio' session at the gym in my building consisting of 10-20 minute bouts on each of the various pieces of equipment. Wednesday things were starting to improve, and finally Thursday I decided to try running again and happily, it felt OK. Today's run was virtually painfree, and while yesterday everything felt a bit tight and awkward, today I felt much more like myself. I'm still going to take it relatively easy for the next few days; practice next Tuesday will be my first attempt back at speed work. Based on the way things are going, as long as I get in a solid warmup I should be OK.  Also, I think I have DEFINITELY been scared straight in terms of core/hip stability work...whatever has been aggravated is definitely a small hip stabilizer, and something tells me it's been working overtime to compensate for some other weakness that I have. No more slacking!

Winter Warlock HM Race Report

This morning (aka last weekend, oops) I ran the Winter Warlock Half, my first half marathon in what feels like forever, in a respectable though not particularly exciting time of 1:36:21. It was a good race in many ways; I felt like I was running right around the pace I'd like to be able to run for a full, and felt fairly comfortable doing so. Maybe more importantly, I was able to take a day where I just really, really didn't feel like racing and do something productive with it.

After a couple beers and a night of emotional ups and downs during the Packer game on Saturday, combined with a vague feeling of coming down with a cold, I was not raring to race come Sunday morning. An iced coffee and a bagel for breakfast helped, minimally. For some reason it seemed significantly colder when we arrived at the race than in Boston, which didn't increase my excitement. The scene at packet pickup was mildly amusing; the race bibs seemed left over from various other races in the area and the chip timing was on ankle bracelets - hah! I haven't experienced that since some dinky early college XC meet, so that set the scene pretty well. Aly, Joy and I set off on a warmup along some fairly pleasant trails and I just wasn't into it. We then arrived back at the start at about 10 to 10, only to find that the race start had been delayed until 10:15 due to...wait for it...too many people in line for the 5 porta potties....sigh. Oh well, got another mile in on the warmup and then headed back to the start. By this point, I was most definitely ready to get this over with.

The course was a double out and back, which I honestly didn't hate as much as I thought I would (though I will admit to wishing I was running the 10K when I had to turn around for the second loop). We headed off down a dirt road lined with pine trees which I actually thought was quite pleasant - people were bitching on FB about the dirt road/"trail" and how unprepared they were for it, but honestly if this road is your idea of a trail...uh, I don't really know what to tell you. It was pretty even terrain, a few sections with a bit of gravel or some potholes but not much of a problem if you were paying attention. I was running near Joy and a few other women for a bit and then found myself starting to pick off people as we headed down the road. Unfortunately my Garmin pooped out and there were only mile markers for miles 1-3 on the course, so all I can say about my splits is that my first mile was 7:00, second mile 7:14, and 3rd mile 7:32. I felt OK, but not awesome, and once I saw that 7:32 I was kind of like..."meh. That's OK. Forget about speed, just don't barf".

On the way back, the pack had spread out quite a bit and we had lost the 5K runners, though there were still plenty of HMers coming the other way. I found myself running with an awkward guy in a white turtleneck who kept turning to look at me every 30 seconds or so...don't ask me why but I found this distracting and I kept wanting to be like..can I help you? Eventually I put in a little surge just to get rid of him and return to my enjoyable state of running comfortably hard down this dirt road. I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing to say that I don't really feel like I "raced" this race - I definitely worked hard and I put in a solid effort, but in the moment I just didn't feel like there was any particular reason to go crazy. It didn't help that I had no idea how to gauge my effort because I had no splits or mile markers, although that was sort of nice in a way too, because it let me just run by how I was feeling without having any emotions about it. I think if I'd looked at my watch and seen I was slowing down, I might have gotten flustered or frustrated, whereas in this case I probably fluctuated in pace but I didn't know it was happening, so I could just stay focused on the feeling of being smooth and in control. I knew this wasn't going to be a race where I ran a PR, so what was the point of getting stressed about it?  In lieu of thinking about splits, I enjoyed looking at the apparel of the runners coming the other way and trying to convince my brain to have a better song stuck in it than "Country Girl, Shake It For Me, Girl" (the other option, it turned out, was Lady Marmalade, specifically the lyrics...'some mistake us for whores, but why spend mine when I can spend yours?' Um, OK.)

Happily, the way back went by fairly quickly, although that didn't stop me from gazing longingly at the road to the finish line as I turned to run again, away from it. All of a sudden I was running virtually alone except for a couple of older guys in front of me. I basically had convinced myself that once I got through the way out, the way back would be easy, because it would only be 3 miles to the finish line! The lies we tell ourselves. I took a Gu at what I perceived to be around mile 8 (actual distance unknown) and got ready to grab some water at one of the few water stops...only to find it occupied by a 10K WALKER FILLING UP WATER BOTTLES FROM THE CUPS. I'm sorry. I know. I sound like an asshole right now. But there was literally one volunteer at the station, who could clearly see me coming (and I even yelled "water" as an extra alert system). This woman who is standing here filling up water bottles clearly is not all too concerned with her finishing time. Can we let the people who are actually racing this thing at least not be hindered by other participants, please?! One of the dudes in front of me actually stopped to wait but ain't nobody got time for that. I think I gave some sort of noise of frustration, but the one positive side was that my rage at what had happened powered me through the next mile, as I focused on thinking up snarky comments to post on this blog vs. the fact that I was starting to get sick of running and the taste of salted caramel Gu clinging to my taste buds. Finally, about a mile later I was able to grab a cup of water (literally grab off a full table of cups while a volunteer stared at me with a confused look...we were not on our water stop A game today). The uphill leading to the turnaround seemed significantly steeper the second time around but things immediately improved as I turned and took stock of the situation. I had counted 5 women ahead of me, none of whom were in reasonable distance to catch. The next woman behind me was about 2 minutes back. That made this quite easy - all I had to do was whatever it took to maintain position.

The last couple of miles were a blur, I was tired, I wanted to stop, and there really wasn't anyone close enough to me to latch onto and try to pass. The race director passed me on a bike and said something that I thought was "4/10 to go!" but that's actually not possible, because as I perceived it I probably had another mile to run. I saw Aly out on her cooldown, and she cheered at me to which I responded "MBLAAAAH". Finally I reached the HM turnaround, where the volunteer told me "only one mile to go!" Um, excuse me? Thankfully my assumption that this person was very very wrong was accurate, though the finish line was still a bit farther away than I realized. One more turn, one more uphill, and I was there. Whee! Done. Honestly, I was pleasantly surprised to see 1:36 on the clock when I came across the line - based on effort, I had guessed I was running maybe just under 7:30 pace and was expecting something closer to 1:38.  Aerobically I barely felt like I'd done anything, but my legs were toast - clearly, that has to do with the fact that I'm only 3 weeks into more real marathon training. I waited for Joy and then the 3 of us reconvened for a brief cooldown before heading out for brunch and beer in Plymouth...obviously, the most important part of any race experience!

I'm pretty happy with 6th overall and winning my AG (after top 3 were taken out), and I think this time is a great starting point. I definitely wasn't pushing it to the limit during this race, but I think it was a solid effort. The fact that I'm trying to run only about 5 seconds slower per mile for twice the distance, however, is mildly terrifying at this point. But there are lots and lots of miles to run...

As an aside/rant...people were behaving like BABIES about this race. In the days after the race I read several reviews on the race's facebook page stating how this was "the WORST race EVER!" and "I will NEVER do this race again". The reasons for these complaints? The lack of medals, not enough food at the finish line, and the fact that the RD delayed the race because of long porta potty lines. I have to say, these comments made me sort of sad about the state of running these days. Sometimes, I don't want to pay $70+ to run a half because its an "event" and there are medals and a party and whatnot. I paid $45 for this race, which is damn near impossible to find for a half marathon, the course was accurate, and my time was right - what more is there to ask of a no frills race? I think these days people expect every race to be an EVENT, an "experience", where everyone is made to feel like a special flower. But whatever happened to racing because....you're trying to race? Not for a participation medal, or for the food afterwards? I mean, none of us even picked up our awards that we won, partially because we were cold and wanted to go home, but also because that's not what it's about. So anyway, besides the water stop debacle I really had minimal issues with this race, and the shirt I got is super soft and is going to make a fantastic PJ shirt...so there's that.  With 2 more halfs on the horizon before Boston, I'm now looking forward to seeing what I can do with more focused training, speedwork, and some more mileage under my belt!

Winter Warlock Half Marathon
1:36:24 (7:22 pace)
21st OA, 6th woman, 1st AG

2015: You. Were. Awesome.

2015, all in all, has been an absolutely spectacular year for me running wise. I might even go so far as to say it was a breakthrough year. How can I not, with new PRs set in almost every distance including the coup de grace, crushing the sub 3:20 barrier that I've been chasing for 5 years not once, but twice! Aside from some really exciting goal race performances, I also spent a lot of time this year racing for FUN, something I plan on doing much more in the future because...surprise...racing for fun is really fun! I got back to training with friends and teammates, enjoyed many a fantastic post race beer and brunch with friends, and just generally had a fantastic time running this past year. I think that a big part of why I was so successful this year is because, through all of it, I was genuinely having a really, really great time.

Because I love the numbers, here are some year end stats, awards, and otherwise fun info...

Miles run: 1822 as of 12/30/15 (probable total will be 1828-1829 depending on my run tomorrow)

Races run: 16 [2 marathons, a 30K, a 25K, a half marathon, 2 10 milers, a 10K, 2 5 milers, 2 4 milers, 3 5Ks. Ran the table! This is the most races I've run in a year since college. I love it.]

New races run: 14 [everything except Boston and Cape Ann - I'm somewhat impressed by this number!]

AG/overall awards: 7

RunningAhead gives you some nice analytics on your performance by percentage in races, so just for kicks I plugged that into a spreadsheet and did some comparisons:

Top 10% female finishes: 15 [every race except Boston]

Top 2% female finishes: 9

PRs run: 7 1/2 [4 mile, 5 mile, 10K, 10 mile, half marathon, 30K, marathon] plus a long course 5K that was definitely a post-collegiate best and possibly a PR...the world will never know

Hardest race experience: Cape Ann 25K [Runner up: None. Nothing else even came close to the hell that was that race]

Best race experience: BOSTON 2015. No question. [Runner up: NYC Half]

Biggest surprise race performance: TIE between NYC Half and Winter Classic "5K", both of which were some really strong performances that I had thought were total impossibilities prior to the race.

Best swag: Lazy Lobster 10 Mile - tech shirt, pint glass, bottle opener finisher metal PLUS wooden medal and GPS watch for top 3 woman

Worst race organization: Newport 10M [no parking, half our group missed the start, significantly short course]

Memorable runs:
-First run on the Battle Road which was amazing, aside from the severe dehydration and nearly vomitting up my blueberry sorbet afterwards
-The 20 miler where Dana and I randomly decided to drop a 7:08 mile
-The last long run before Boston where I rode out to Framingham by myself and absolutely crushed a 22 miler
-Every single run done between mid January and February (SNOWMAGGEDDON)
-The track workout where I did the best tempo of my life, then found myself leading a group for short intervals and was too excited to even deal
-Really, all of the pre-marathon track workouts where I suddenly realized I was faster than I used to be

Number of falls taken while running: 7 (4x ice/black ice, 1 sneaky construction plate, 2x on the same frost heave 9 months apart)

To look back at my goals for the year, for the first time EVER I achieved all of my running-related goals for the year!
-Sub 3:20 marathon: CHECK (self explanatory)
-Have a good race at Boston: CHECK (Good does not even begin to describe it. Amazing, more like it)
-Do strength/core work: CHECK (I could still be more consistent with this, but overall I have done a LOT more core/strength work than in past years. This is definitely still an area I'd like to work on in 2016)
-Race more for fun: CHECK! (16 races, at least 10 of which I'd say were "for fun"? Definitely a win.)

It's hard after such a stellar year to even begin to imagine how I could possibly surpass it. And yet, that's always the plan, isn't it? As far as specifics, it's hard to say exactly what I'm hoping for for the coming year, but when I think about it, some themes do emerge:
-Keep building on 2016
-Stay injury free (aka: keep doing core work consistently, don't be an idiot)
-Stop talking about doing a half ironman, and actually do one
-Never stopped being surprised and excited about progress; always strive for more
-PR in the 5K (why the hell not?!)
-Get in sub 3:15 shape for Boston and hope the weather gods cooperate. If they don't, let it go and keep working.
-Run at least one race per month
-Appreciate every run

Honestly, I don't know if there's that much more to say...2015, we killed it. 2016, let's do this!

Winter Classic "5K" Race Report...what just happened?

This morning, I ran my fastest 5K in 5+ years (possibly ever...more on that later), and I have no idea how I managed to do such a thing. I had zero intention of racing this week, but Joy had texted me earlier in the week that she was off work today and wanted to race...let's be honest this is me we're talking about here, and the thought of doing a 5K while wearing an elf hat was just too much to pass up.  So I found myself donning my Fasttwitches and heading to the line of the Winter Classic 5K with a very modest goal: at least run faster than when I ran the same course a few months ago in the middle of my long run (21:31). This seemed entirely reasonable and I went into the race figuring it would be, for all intents and purposes, a glorified tempo run. That...was not what happened.

Joy and I warmed up the 4 miles from my apartment to the start, milled around for a bit, and elfed ourselves in preparation for the start. We then crammed into the start corral and immediately found ourselves about 7 rows too far back, behind several small children and people in sweatshirts...oh well. Of course, about 2 minutes before the start my Garmin decided to auto-pause, and there was no time to get the satellites back especially with so many people around, so I made the scary decision to do the race GPS-free. How bad could it be, really? It's just a 5K, and I know the course already - who cares if I have my exact mile splits? (FORESHADOWING)

Yup, I ran one of my fastest races ever wearing a damn elf hat. This is my life.

So then the gun went off, and off we went! I felt like I took the race relatively calmly, and I just tried to relax and get around people, trying to establish a position. It got up to 60 later in the day, but during the race was about 40 which was AWESOME - I spent some time the first mile thinking about how great running in the cold is. There was a master's woman ahead of me who I've seen (and finished just behind) at the last 2 5K's I've done, and I was pleasantly surprised when I passed her right around what I thought was somewhat past the 1 mile mark. I heard someone's Garmin beep and checked my watch - 6:28, OK, not bad! I was somewhat shocked at how GOOD I was feeling running at that pace, so I figured I would try to take advantage of the fact that I wasn't tied to my watch and just run by feel. There was a bit of a breeze as we headed up Mass Ave, which was slightly annoying mainly because I thought it was going to blow my hat off my head. I felt like I was running hard, but not unbearably so. Man, I thought to myself, this is SO much better than the Fall Classic! I can definitely get sub-21! Always nice to be thinking positive thoughts midway through a 5K.

We made a left turn at what I thought was around the 2-mile (apparently there were mile markers on the ground, but I never saw them), and I thought to myself, OK! This is good! 1 more mile! I didn't feel like I had really slowed down at all, which was a pleasant surprise, and I was starting to become convinced that I could get through one more mile at this pace, whatever it was. I looked down at my watch at one point and saw 16:40 - great, like 4 minutes left to run! No big deal! You got this! Well, THAT is where the fun started. We made a turn at what I assumed was close to the 3 mile mark...and I found myself staring down what appeared to be an endless street, still on course. WTF? This was about 20 minutes into the race, and I was suddenly TOTALLY demoralized. How could I possibly be running that slow? It sure didn't feel like I was running over 7 minute pace...I had been consistently passing people and hadn't been passed - I couldn't believe it. I passed the "3" mile mark at 21 something and ran into the finishing chute wondering how I could have possibly managed to run a 22:36 5K. I felt totally dead - a guy finishing near me kept looking at me and I think was trying to get me to hardcore race him to the finish, and I just didn't have anything left. So how in the hell was I supposed to make sense of the fact that I had actually just run my slowest 5K in years?

Well, that's when I started hearing the rumblings of the runners around me, and when people started pulling out their GPS watches, and when my puzzlement over my slowness turned into something different. Because that's when I learned that the course had been long...not just by a little bit, but by almost half a mile! (Official distance was 3.45 - apparently the lead pace car took us too far down the first road - and actually, props to the race director for almost immediately sending out an email about this and changing the distance in the official results). It actually took me a few minutes to grasp the meaning of this: if I had just run 22:36 for 3.5 miles....OH MY GOD WHAT WOULD MY 5K TIME HAVE BEEN??!! I did the math. And the math was like: oh hey, if this had actually been a 5K, and the finish line had been in the right spot, and you didn't have to run an extra half mile where you probably slowed down...you would have been right on the borderline of breaking 20. And let's be honest, if I had KNOWN that that were a possibility, my kick would have been a sight to behold. So for a second, I was a little bit mad that the opportunity to actually be able to put a 19:xx to my name had been taken away by the course screw up. But after that second, I was just straight up excited, because whether or not I officially ran sub 20, I clearly was capable of running sub 20 today. And that? Is completely insane to me. It was just last week that I was bemoaning the fact that I can consistently run 6:50ish 5Ks, but never faster. I've only run under 20:30 one time on the roads, and twice on the track, in my entire life - and all 3 of those times happened during peak training (and all 3 were >5 years ago). I had pretty much completely written off any hope of a 5K PR ever again. So to go out there, off no speed work, in the off season, wearing a stupid jingle bell hat, and do this?? I can't even believe it! This is probably my last race for the year, and I can't think of a better note to end on...proof that I'm faster at EVERY distance that I was 2 years ago, or even back in college, and not just the marathon.  Freaking awesome. And now shooting for a 5K PR is actually back on the table!

I think there might be a lesson here. And that lesson might be, to paraphrase Tom: your watch is only there for your amusement. Stop getting tied to the numbers, and just run how you feel. But in all seriousness...what a race for my damn GPS to die. My running life is many things...but it is never, ever boring. 

Winter Classic "5K" (3.45 miles)

22:36 (6:33 pace)

161/3200 OA, 14/1836 F, 9/832 F19-29

Gobble x 3 4 Miler Race Report

For the first time ever I decided to do a Thanksgiving Day race this year - the temptation of a race that starts less than 2 miles from my front door was just too much to pass up. I think that I considered doing this race last year, but it sells out a couple weeks in advance - I signed up about 2 weeks ago and just snuck in the day before it sold out. Hooray for being less indecisive this year! I ran a portion of the course during my run on Thursday, and while I could have sworn I'd read somewhere that the course was "mostly flat and fast" I must have read that wrong - there was PLENTY of uphill, including one nasty, steep climb just after the 3 mile mark. The last mile was downhill, so at least I had that going for me.

Thanksgiving morning I got to discover the joy of doing a legitimately local race: I woke up at 8, had a cup of coffee and some nuun, hemmed and hawed about what to wear (45 degrees? Do I wear shorts? Capris? Singlet? T-shirt?). I eventually opted for the GBTC t-shirt that I wear when I want to represent the club, but am not racing seriously, and capris. I also wore arm warmers which I removed within about 10 seconds of starting my warmup. At 8:30 I left and jogged the 2 miles to the start line, where I met up with a teammate and chatted for a few minutes. And then...the race started! Perfect. I had pretty low expectations going into this one, since I haven't done any speedwork since September and while I wouldn't say I'm out of shape, I'm definitely not "in season". So I basically hoped I could run around 7 minute pace, and in an ideal situation, break my extremely soft 4 mile PR that I set way back in 2007 in the only other 4 mile I've ever run. Technically, I broke that PR at the bridge run a few weeks back, but I can't in good conscience count a PR from a course that I know was short.

My goal for the first mile was to keep things controlled. I felt a little rough coming off the line, probably because we were staring uphill. I just tried to keep my breathing under control and not worry about people passing me.  I had no idea how fast I was running, but it didn't feel very fast, so I was pleasantly surprised to see a 6:38 as my first mile split. OK! I thought to myself. I can work with that! Just...keep this pace and stay relaxed and it will be fine. During mile 2 I continued to feel OK, but not great. We hit a pretty gradual but long uphill just before the 2 mile and that's where I just kind of had a moment - per my Garmin, I briefly slowed down to 8:00 pace at one point....YIKES. That mile was 6:52 which actually was not as bad as I expected. Based on how I felt though, I'm not surprised that I was slowing down - all I could think was "I hate short races I hate short races I hate short races, why do I do these things, ugh, slow". I was spitting and snotting and just a gross member of society. After mile 2 we turned, and my mood took a turn for the better as well. I told myself that there were 2 miles left, one more big hill, and I just had to get through it and get to the downhill last mile. I managed to pick it back up for a bit with the promise of "almost done with the hills", but then we hit the hill itself and my pace again took a nosedive. Of course, everyone else's pace was also taking a nosedive, so at this point my placement in the race was pretty much static. Mile 3 was a 7:15 - unfortunate. Also unfortunate was the fact that my brain had for some reason decided to select Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty" as an excellent soundtrack to play on repeat (honestly not sure when the last time I even heard that song was??) But now I knew that the hills were over, and it was time to just bomb down the downhill! Honestly, this last mile made up for every bit of hills in the rest of the race. It's so rare that you get to run almost a mile that's just...straight downhill, and let me tell you, no matter how tired you are, it feels GREAT. I could feel myself accelerating and I passed several people on this stretch. I took a peek at my watch at 3.84 miles, at which point, I was more than ready to be done. And then, just like that, I was! Official time was 27:33, 6:53 pace, and finally a PR to replace a race from 8 years ago! Hooray!  And then I was able to grab a cup of water, walk for about 5 minutes, cooldown home to be back before 10, and then proceed to make an excellent frittata while drinking a mimosa. Good, good times.

Overall, I definitely wasn't unhappy with this race although I wasn't overjoyed either. The race itself is great - it's run by Somerville Road Runners, one of the fairly well known clubs around here, and they really put on a great race - I can see why it sells out every year! Although it's a 3000 person race which is pretty large for a 4 mile, I never felt crowded, probably because the WHOLE COURSE was completely closed to traffic. I know, right? That NEVER happens! So major props to SRR - assuming I remember to sign up early enough, I'll be back next year! As for my performance, there are pros and cons. On the positive side, I really shouldn't complain about running sub-7 pace for something longer than a 5K, particularly when I'm in the "off season" and definitely not at peak fitness. But on the flip side, over the last 2-3 years, I've found I've pretty consistently been able to go out and run a 5K-5 mile in somewhere between 6:45 and 6:55 pace - never faster, never slower, that's it. And there's a part of me that's sort of like...buuuut...I want to be able to go out in 6:38 and then hold that pace! Ever since I manage to run 7:02 pace for a half last year, I sort of feel like 6:55 pace for a significantly shorter race just...isn't that great. I definitely believe strongly that I'm stronger at the longer distances, but it doesn't say much for my ability to get faster at longer distances when I can't even hold the pace I would like to eventually hold for a half for 4 miles...ya know? But it's OK. There's a huge difference between being in the middle of a training cycle and not for me - maybe it shouldn't be this way, but outside of hill work and racing I don't do structured speedwork between marathon cycles - and I usually ONLY race shorter distances during the off season. So, really, what do I expect? I guess if I really want to run faster in the shorter distances, I should a) actually TRAIN for a shorter distance race (unlikely, haha) or b) do more shorter races when I am in marathon training. And in the meantime, I think I should be happy with the fact that sub-7 pace, which once seemed IMPOSSIBLY fast, is now a pace that I can run for shorter distances on pretty low mileage. To put it another way, I technically ran a 6K PR during this race (though I realize comparing XC to road is apples and oranges) - and that PR was set after months of structured speedwork and training. Now I can just kind of...run that pace on a random Thursday. That, in the end, is pretty damn cool.

Gobble Gobble Gobble 4M
27:33 (6:53 pace) PR
146/2649 OA, 32/1524 F, 12/357 F20-29