As I was finishing up my last blog post, another topic formed in my mind that I feel the need to write out and work through. In case you haven't noticed, my mind works in overdrive sometimes and having this blog is a great way to dissect these thoughts.
I talked a bit about how important it is for me to focus on the things I can control in my life. I have so many things that are total crapshoots for me on a daily basis that without something concrete to focus on, I'd literally lose my mind.
For starters, my kids. Oh, my darling kids. Mind you, I love them with all of my being. I think they have incredible minds, incredible talents, and with a bit of direction, are really going places in this world. But parenting them is far more difficult than I ever envisioned. They are smart as can be, so I thought school would be a breeze for them.
Nope.
They have a ton of talent...my son is a computer whiz and my daughter is fully immersed in the arts - she can sing like nobody's business and her artistic talent is being fine tuned on a daily basis. So of course, they'd be super focused on success because of this, right?
Nope.
It's frustrating. That's putting it mildly. Actually, it absolutely kills me. It stresses me out like nothing else in my life that they always manage to find a way to get distracted, to not care, to perform less than they know they're capable of. I have absolutely no control over this, and I refuse to be a helicopter parent no matter how much the school pushes me to micro-manage them. I've spent years trying to find a balance between guiding them, hovering over them, harping on them, and talking about it until I'm blue in the face, while forcing them to take control of it themselves, to be responsible, and to allow them to fail and learn a lesson. I can't do the work for them, I can't force them to care, I can merely guide them and support them. Basically, it's totally out of my control and my mind wrestles with this on a daily basis.
So that's my kids for you. I don't have control over what they choose to care about or on what they focus their attention, but I have control over accepting them for who they are and supporting all their successes and their failures.
My kids are only a part of the uncertainty that surrounds me on a daily basis. There are so many things that I struggle with personally, and find difficulty in controlling. I have come to accept many of these variables, however, but it was a long process.
First, mental health. For a very long time I was unaware that I suffered from depression and anxiety and that it was an actual disorder that I would be struggling with for the rest of my life. I always viewed my "bouts" with depression and anxiety as just that....temporary bouts. It wasn't until a few years ago, that, after discussing it at length with my doctor, I was found to be clinically depressed and suffering from a legitimate anxiety disorder. Temporary fixes wouldn't make it go away. I would always have to be proactive about treatment and I could not be complacent. I'm so thankful for the counselor that I found who worked with me in those early days to come to terms with this problem and find ways to reset my mind. I'm thankful for my doctor for taking me seriously and then opening my eyes to reality, and spending time reworking my medication so I finally found one that my body could tolerate long term.
Anyone who suffers from mental health disorders understands just how significant all these steps are. I have accepted that this who I am, I have a husband who supports me daily and understands when it's just "not my day...or my week" and doesn't make me feel guilty about it, and I continue to find ways to battle through the dark times without giving in to that darkness.
I do not have control over my diagnoses, but I have control over how I let it run my life.
Next, the negativity in the world. I gotta be honest here. I think the way people have treated each other in the last couple years...publicly...is just insane. It's disgusting and unnecessary and it shows a complete lack of character. The name calling, the lack of common sense, the lack of decency, the inability to really think about what they're saying and doing. It blows my mind. I can't control what other people think or do or say, but I certainly don't have to join them in their immaturity and irrational behavior. It's forced me to remove people from my life (trust me, I only did this after a lot of soul searching), and to avoid some people, and to keep my mouth shut about many things. I want to be known for my compassion and grace, not for being a raging bitch when I don't agree with someone. So I've quieted my mind and my mouth. It's truly a freeing experience.
Lastly, let's talk about physical health. I am a healthy person...mostly. However, what isn't so obvious on the outside is that I do suffer from many physical ailments, and my family medical history is downright frightening. I have asthma, eosinophilic esophagitis and dysphagia, and scoliosis. My family has suffered with countless bouts of cancer, high blood pressure and cholesterol, and diabetes. I sometimes feel like I'm on borrowed time because I've not yet experienced anything truly life threatening. My disorders are incredibly frustrating at times, however. I had hoped in the last year to put myself as a priority and work on a better solution to my gastrointestinal issues, but because of my family's medical woes in the last year and the astronomical amount of money we were spending on that, I had to put myself on the backburner. I really need to get treatment again (surgery or meds? both? not sure). I finally said enough is enough and I scheduled doctor appointments with a new team of doctors after I was dissatisfied with my last one. That appointment is on Monday and I'm optimistic that I will see relief soon. It's been a long time coming and it was time to put myself first. With regards to my asthma, thankfully, with the weight loss and more focused marathon training last year, I feel like I've made big strides with improvement and better control of my asthma. I didn't have any real trouble with it. However, my allergies that lead to asthma issues need to be addressed in a more permanent manner. I finally scheduled the appointment I will need to begin allergy shots. It's a huge commitment but it was time I stopped putting it off. The scoliosis? Yeah, that's not exactly going away, and because of the imbalance it creates in my lower body, I have to be extra diligent with physical therapy exercises and weight lifting to keep my imbalance from causing running injuries.
My family medical history is probably one of the biggest motivators to me taking charge of my physical health. I can't control genetic predispositions to anything, but I can still do whatever I can to fight off other preventable diseases. I refuse to be limited by things that I am 100% in control over, and when I've seen things start to go sideways I always try to right the ship by putting more focus and effort into nutrition and exercise. To people on the outside, I seem obsessed. I really don't care. I know how devastating preventable illnesses can be and if it's something I can control, well, then that's what I'm going to do. I have a lot of plans for the present and the future and I don't want any limitations.
I guess the moral of the story is that when you're feeling completely overwhelmed by things outside your control, sometimes what can bring you back from the abyss is finding those things that you CAN control and putting more focus into those. It can be something small, or many small things, or something big. But there is always something that is within your control. Taking hold of that can help you reset your mind and bring a bright spot into what can many times be a very dark and dreary time.
Showing posts with label asthma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asthma. Show all posts
Sunday, February 4, 2018
Friday, May 26, 2017
Gratitude
I often complain about the weather during the summer months here in Texas. It is pretty unbearable to train in, with high temps and high humidity pretty much every morning. Throw in asthma and it is a struggle to maintain decent fitness.
I need to work on my gratitude that I can even do what I do.
I have a friend who just got a double lung transplant after spending 103 days in the hospital because she had gotten too ill to leave without the transplant. She had interstitial lung disease, and to put it simply, she just could not breathe on her own anymore. The amount of oxygen it required to move at all was unbelievable and we were all very scared for her.
Thank God there was a selfless person out there who was a donor, and a family willing to honor that request. My friend got her lungs and life is full of optimism again.
She couldn't walk down the hallway without a massive amount of oxygen, and here I am complaining about the humidity while on a 2-hour training run. Perspective, right?
Since she received her lungs, my friend has been so positive about the little things in life. Her first time outside again, taking deep breaths without the aid of oxygen, hearing the silence around her instead of the constant hum of her oxygen tanks. Things you and I never had to worry about because we could live unencumbered without disease.
She would have given anything to just be able to run one mile. And soon, she will be able to do whatever she wants.
I want to be thankful for everything I'm able to do. It might hurt to do hill repeats in 93 degree weather (hello, last night's workout), but I can do it, week after week. I might have to slow down on my long runs because it's 97% humidity out at 6am, but I can still do it all summer long.
Every time I breathe in and my lungs have been taxed to capacity, I want to think of my friend and remember that I am so lucky to be healthy, even with the bouts of asthma I encounter. And I want her to be over the moon every time she breathes in with those wonderful, incredible, amazing new lungs.
Speaking of gratitude, have you made an effort to express your gratitude for the little (and sometimes big) things that your friends and family have done for you? There is so much negativity in our world, and people are so quick to complain about such insignificant things, that it's easy to forget the little things that make our lives better. I am really trying to make every effort I can to tell people thank you and to be positive and to be sure they know how much I appreciate them. I do hope it makes them smile and feel good about themselves. I know that when someone tells me thank you, I feel like I'm on top of the world.
Kindness goes a long way!
I need to work on my gratitude that I can even do what I do.
I have a friend who just got a double lung transplant after spending 103 days in the hospital because she had gotten too ill to leave without the transplant. She had interstitial lung disease, and to put it simply, she just could not breathe on her own anymore. The amount of oxygen it required to move at all was unbelievable and we were all very scared for her.
Thank God there was a selfless person out there who was a donor, and a family willing to honor that request. My friend got her lungs and life is full of optimism again.
She couldn't walk down the hallway without a massive amount of oxygen, and here I am complaining about the humidity while on a 2-hour training run. Perspective, right?
Since she received her lungs, my friend has been so positive about the little things in life. Her first time outside again, taking deep breaths without the aid of oxygen, hearing the silence around her instead of the constant hum of her oxygen tanks. Things you and I never had to worry about because we could live unencumbered without disease.
She would have given anything to just be able to run one mile. And soon, she will be able to do whatever she wants.
I want to be thankful for everything I'm able to do. It might hurt to do hill repeats in 93 degree weather (hello, last night's workout), but I can do it, week after week. I might have to slow down on my long runs because it's 97% humidity out at 6am, but I can still do it all summer long.
Every time I breathe in and my lungs have been taxed to capacity, I want to think of my friend and remember that I am so lucky to be healthy, even with the bouts of asthma I encounter. And I want her to be over the moon every time she breathes in with those wonderful, incredible, amazing new lungs.
Speaking of gratitude, have you made an effort to express your gratitude for the little (and sometimes big) things that your friends and family have done for you? There is so much negativity in our world, and people are so quick to complain about such insignificant things, that it's easy to forget the little things that make our lives better. I am really trying to make every effort I can to tell people thank you and to be positive and to be sure they know how much I appreciate them. I do hope it makes them smile and feel good about themselves. I know that when someone tells me thank you, I feel like I'm on top of the world.
Kindness goes a long way!
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Louisiana!!
Marathon #12 is DONE! After a two year marathon hiatus, I committed to getting a healthy body to the start line in Baton Rouge on January 15, and I succeeded!
It's been a long two years and I missed the marathon distance. As tough and demanding it is, there's just something incredibly intoxicating about toeing the line at a marathon. My body has had other ideas over the past two years and after downgrading two previous marathon registrations to the half marathon distance, I was ready to do whatever I could to return to the full distance.
The Louisiana Marathon fell on my birthday for 2017, and I felt like I needed something different to commit to, so before I talked myself out of it, I registered for the Deja Vu. I'd be running the 5k on Saturday, and the marathon on Sunday.
I wrote and rewrote, and rewrote again, a 6 month training plan. From July to October my focus was on building my base miles up, with interval training to try to regain some of the speed I've lost. I ran two half marathons in October, one that I actually raced and one that was pretty awful because of weather. The first one, in California, was spectacular and showed me that whatever I was doing was working and I was regaining strength, both physically and mentally. From October until January's race day, I increased my volume and the length of my interval and speed training sessions until I was consistently running 35-40+ mile weeks, 4-5 days per week, with very few runs under 6 miles. I spent a little time getting my IT band worked on, did countless rehab exercises, and plugged away week after week. The training plan was exactly what I needed.
My marathon PR is 4:17:53, not spectacular by any means, especially compared to my fastest half marathon of 1:51:36. I have run several good marathon races, but always felt like I kept holding myself back for fear of dying towards the end of the race. I love the accomplishment of completing the marathon, but I'm admittedly not a great marathon runner. For Louisiana I really wanted to run a 4:15. If I was honest with myself, I know I can actually run faster than that, but after two years and battling injuries and stress, I thought a 4:15 was totally reasonable and would quite honestly still not be very easy.
Of course race day weather was not bound to cooperate with my plans. My medical woes (asthma) make it tough for me to push too hard for too long in warm, humid weather. I run the risk of ending up in the medical tent, and I have to respect this. It's frustrating, but it is what it is. While temperatures in the 60s wouldn't be awful (40s to 50s are ideal), the fact that the humidity would be at 100% would seriously compromise my lungs. When I ran my first October race, the air was dry and the effect it had on my breathing was dramatic. I had absolutely zero issues racing in 20-30% humidity and it was glorious. It's the opposite when the humidity creeps over 70% (that's what happened in my second October half and it was ugly). The forecast wasn't budging as we approached the race. It was going to be warm and humid, and the humidity was not going to burn off.
But first things first...Baton Rouge is awesome. As soon as we arrived in town, I knew it would be a fun weekend. The downtown area was so pretty, and clean, and vibrant, with lots of great restaurants and services. Once parked at the hotel, everything was in walking distance. My room had a view of the Mississippi, so can't really beat that.
The expo was full of energy. Lots of good vendors and friendly people, with race merchandise that could appeal to everyone. Wandering through the expo was fun and it got my excitement going for the upcoming races. I bought myself a logo tank, mug, visor, and car sticker.
The FOOD. Oh my gosh, the food in Louisiana was wonderful. I was going to be eating well the entire time. Saturday night's meal was so enjoyable, with a glass of wine thrown in to mellow me out for the next morning.
I couldn't control the weather, but there were countless other things I could control. I shook off the disappointment (mostly) and took stock of how I could make the race day great regardless of the weather gods being assholes.
But first on the weekend agenda besides eating all the fabulous food and buying all the fabulous merchandise...I ran a 5K on Saturday. When you run both days on marathon weekend, you earn a crawfish platter. I can't pass up on extra bling, and I've done the 5K the day before a big race a couple other times, so why not? The air Saturday morning was of course thick with fog, but a couple degrees cooler than what Sunday morning would be. I had no plans to go all out in the first mile of the race, but would just try to run a nice negative split without overtaxing myself too much. It would be a fun way to shake out the legs and fire them up a bit before the marathon.
The race was a blast! I ran a conservative 9:00 first mile, then kicked it up slowly before building up more speed after the halfway turnaround. I ran the first half in about 13:40 so right on target to where I expected to be. I felt so great during the second mile (which came in at 8:21) that I continued to speed up a bit for the final 1.1 miles. I was right at 26 minutes when I crossed the finish line. Great for a shake out run, without pushing myself too hard and compromising my race the next day.
Surprisingly enough, that time unofficially got me 6/125 in my age group, 50/958 for females (say what??), and 178/1614 overall. So maybe I'm a decent 5k runner. Definitely better than I am at marathons!
But the air was no doubt pretty awful. Not bad to push through for 3 miles, but a 4+ hour slog in it would be a different story if I wasn't smart. After spending lots of time at the Finish Festival eating all the yummy samples from the vendors and enjoying some great live music, we finally headed out to eat a real brunch. By that time the sun had come out. The air felt pretty crappy and it would probably be the same the next day.
So here's how it all went down on Sunday....
When we were walking to the start line, the air was so thick it felt like it was drizzling on us. You couldn't see the Louisiana Capitol Building at all. It didn't feel too warm, about 60 degrees. Waiting in the starting chute, however, felt really warm and I was eager to just get going and spread out a bit. I kept telling myself that I'd be done before lunchtime and it would all be worth it.
My plan was to run as even half splits as possible. The last thing I wanted was to go out too fast and then crash at the end. If I could just maintain what I was doing, stay mentally tough at the end, and stay as cool and hydrated as possible, I'd consider it a success. So I started really really slow. First mile was 10:45 and I just wanted to get used to the air. I wasn't breathing too hard those first few miles and felt absolutely fine. I guess that's not too hard to do when the average pace is well over ability..ha!
Running alongside my friend Kalynn helped tremendously. She was running the half marathon but since the split wasn't until Mile 11 I got to spend a lot of time talking to her and it made those first miles go by very quickly. She's a Boston Qualified marathoner, so for her to slow down as much as she did for me was a huge sacrifice on her part and I'm so grateful for that!
The course is just great. I got to run through LSU's campus (did you know they have an actual live tiger living in the middle of campus? Although, sadly, the latest mascot recently died), which meant lots of college boys at aid stations. I wasn't complaining. After leaving campus, the course meandered along Lakeshore Drive for several miles. What a beautiful and peaceful area of the city. Each house was unique and most were really spectacular. The race was actually going to by quickly and before I knew it we were already 10 miles in.
After this point, I was running alone. Kalynn was off to finish the half and start enjoying the festival. My other friend, Tony, who was running the full was probably far ahead of me at this point. But the spectators made it feel anything but lonely. The spectators!! Seriously, the only place that has spectators as awesome as Baton Rouge is maybe Houston, but even so I think Baton Rouge may have them beat. They're aren't as many of them, but they make up for their numbers with their enthusiasm and willingness to help out all the runners as much as possible. It seemed like for every official aid station there were one or two spectator pseudo-aid stations set up outside of residences. They were handing out anything from champagne and beer to Swedish Fish and pretzels.
I also think I made a great choice by putting "Birthday Girl" as my bib name. It made me pretty popular with the spectators and they made sure everyone around knew I was running on my birthday. I had so many smiles while running that it almost made me forget how atrocious the air was.
Almost. I never sped up too much during this race. I hated running slowly, but my strategy was working. I felt okay through at least the first 18 or so miles. There were aid stations every single mile, which was a life saver. I could refill my water bottle or dump water on my head, or grab the ice cups they had after Mile 11. It saved my butt, that's for sure. When the sun came out about 3 hours into the race, the aid stations became even more important. If I couldn't control the weather, at least I could be smart about my hydration. I was being really great about drinking water often and using my Base salts every few miles. I stuck to my nutrition fueling strategy of every 5 miles, and grabbed a couple extra things along the course, like Swedish fish and orange slices. I was a soaking mess towards the end of the race with how much water I had dumped over my head, but it kept me from overheating.
I'm honestly surprised I never felt really hot during the race, even with the sun. I expect it not only had to do with staying cool with the water, but also with all the shade on the course. Many of the Baton Rouge neighborhoods have tree canopies across their roads, providing an incredible amount of shade for the runners. This is one of the reasons (out of many!) I chose this race. Shade is imperative if the sun is out. And I know I also felt okay because instead of running my 9:45 goal pace I was running 10:15-10:30.
My splits came through as I had planned them, 1:05 at the 10k, 2:15 at the half, 3:16 at 19 miles. I was slowly improving my pace over the miles and it looked like I was likely to cross the line in about 4:31 or 4:32 if I kept up the current pace.
At about 21 miles I got tired. It was taking it's toll on me. I also realized that this was the first time in a very, very long time I had run a non-stop 21+ miles. Every step I had taken on this course so far had been running. I could still see the 4:30 pacer in front of me, and he was my motivation for several of the previous miles. I battled with my head for about the next mile or so about whether I would let myself take a little walk break. I HATE walking during a race, even if it's just for a minute or two. I would prefer slowing down to walking. I guess this wasn't necessarily an ordinary race. If the air was drier I'd be at least another mile ahead at this point and probably wouldn't feel the need to walk, but after over 3 1/2 hours I was definitely getting tired.
I decided to be really regimented about walk breaks for the remainder of the race. I ran until I got to 22.2 miles, so with four miles to go until the finish I walked 1/10th of a mile, then ran another 9/10. It was pushing my pace over 11:00 but I was still in range for a 4:35 if I finished the race like this. I was okay with that. I stuck to that plan for the last four miles.
At Mile 25 Kalynn found me and she ran the rest of the way with me. That last mile was a bit of a blur, because at this point I was definitely ready to be done. It had been a long morning! I usually can pick up the pace that last mile, but last time I did that in humidity like this I ended up in medical. I would never hear the end of it if I had to visit the medical tent again after a race, so speed up I did NOT. As a matter of fact, that last mile (all of which was "running"!) was just as slow as Mile 1. So I guess I really was tired.
I heard the announcer call my name a couple of times as I was closing in on the finish line and that was really cool. I love races that announce all the finishers as they come in. As soon as I was done (4:35:42!) and could stop running, everything started hurting.
Daaaaamn, walking through the finish chute was hard. My body was seriously yelling at me and all I could think about was that it was time to retire from marathons. I never really hit the wall in this race but those last miles were pretty rough...at least that's what my foggy and tired mind was telling me.
I made it to Kalynn's husband, Cary, and the chairs they had set up and they sweetly took care of me and made sure I was okay. My friend Tony (who trained with MY training plan) PR'd by over 5 minutes. A freaking PR!! On my coaching! A part of me was so proud and so happy and felt so vindicated that the plan I poured over really was awesome, but then I also kind of wanted to hit him a little for running it 32 minutes faster than me. He's a lucky guy to not get affected by the humidity like I do.
The Finish Festival was just as great the second day and I got my fill of Louisiana food and music for the next hour or so. Then spent about another hour walking the half mile to the hotel (not really, it just felt like it). Luckily I didn't have too much trouble stepping off of curbs this time around (not the case a couple years ago post-Houston Marathon when I stared at a curb for a good minute before attempting to step off it backwards).
A 20 minute shower, a rum and coke while IN the shower, birthday cookies made by my friend Shelley of Sharp Cookie, and the promise of all the fried seafood I could get my hands on got me through the afternoon.
I always learn something from every marathon I complete. I trained very well for this race. It was an ambitious training plan, particularly with needing a little rehab on my IT band, but I powered through it successfully. I was TRAINED. It was a great feeling knowing I toed the line ready to complete that 26.2 miles. I couldn't help that the weather was exactly what I DIDN'T need, but I readjusted my goals and my race day plan and was determined to still be successful. At first glance, a 4:35 (which falls at 7th place for fastest marathon out of the 12 I've done) doesn't seem too great when my original goal was 4:15. However, I ran smart, I pushed through, I stuck to the new race plan, I didn't overheat, my lungs held up, and my half splits were pretty good for a bad weather marathon at 2:15:50 and 2:19:52. It could easily have been really ugly those last few miles had I hit the wall. On a side note, when I checked the results I noticed that even with my slowdown at the end of the race, I moved from 40th in my age group at the 10k split up to 24th at the finish...that might be my favorite statistic.
My recovery, despite being horribly sick right now 4 days post-race (the FLU!!), has been better than normal. I actually am not having too much trouble with sore muscles or weird pains. Absolutely no IT band pain, which is a bit of a miracle. After my last marathon two years ago, I struggled that next week and never really recovered like I should have, causing me to downgrade another marathon three months later. That's not the case this time around. My legs feel good, if not still a bit sore and tired, but good overall and ready to get back to regular exercise soon.
I'm definitely wondering if I want to sign up for another marathon this winter or early spring. Should I give it another shot?
It's been a long two years and I missed the marathon distance. As tough and demanding it is, there's just something incredibly intoxicating about toeing the line at a marathon. My body has had other ideas over the past two years and after downgrading two previous marathon registrations to the half marathon distance, I was ready to do whatever I could to return to the full distance.
The Louisiana Marathon fell on my birthday for 2017, and I felt like I needed something different to commit to, so before I talked myself out of it, I registered for the Deja Vu. I'd be running the 5k on Saturday, and the marathon on Sunday.
I wrote and rewrote, and rewrote again, a 6 month training plan. From July to October my focus was on building my base miles up, with interval training to try to regain some of the speed I've lost. I ran two half marathons in October, one that I actually raced and one that was pretty awful because of weather. The first one, in California, was spectacular and showed me that whatever I was doing was working and I was regaining strength, both physically and mentally. From October until January's race day, I increased my volume and the length of my interval and speed training sessions until I was consistently running 35-40+ mile weeks, 4-5 days per week, with very few runs under 6 miles. I spent a little time getting my IT band worked on, did countless rehab exercises, and plugged away week after week. The training plan was exactly what I needed.
My marathon PR is 4:17:53, not spectacular by any means, especially compared to my fastest half marathon of 1:51:36. I have run several good marathon races, but always felt like I kept holding myself back for fear of dying towards the end of the race. I love the accomplishment of completing the marathon, but I'm admittedly not a great marathon runner. For Louisiana I really wanted to run a 4:15. If I was honest with myself, I know I can actually run faster than that, but after two years and battling injuries and stress, I thought a 4:15 was totally reasonable and would quite honestly still not be very easy.
Of course race day weather was not bound to cooperate with my plans. My medical woes (asthma) make it tough for me to push too hard for too long in warm, humid weather. I run the risk of ending up in the medical tent, and I have to respect this. It's frustrating, but it is what it is. While temperatures in the 60s wouldn't be awful (40s to 50s are ideal), the fact that the humidity would be at 100% would seriously compromise my lungs. When I ran my first October race, the air was dry and the effect it had on my breathing was dramatic. I had absolutely zero issues racing in 20-30% humidity and it was glorious. It's the opposite when the humidity creeps over 70% (that's what happened in my second October half and it was ugly). The forecast wasn't budging as we approached the race. It was going to be warm and humid, and the humidity was not going to burn off.
But first things first...Baton Rouge is awesome. As soon as we arrived in town, I knew it would be a fun weekend. The downtown area was so pretty, and clean, and vibrant, with lots of great restaurants and services. Once parked at the hotel, everything was in walking distance. My room had a view of the Mississippi, so can't really beat that.
The expo was full of energy. Lots of good vendors and friendly people, with race merchandise that could appeal to everyone. Wandering through the expo was fun and it got my excitement going for the upcoming races. I bought myself a logo tank, mug, visor, and car sticker.
The FOOD. Oh my gosh, the food in Louisiana was wonderful. I was going to be eating well the entire time. Saturday night's meal was so enjoyable, with a glass of wine thrown in to mellow me out for the next morning.
I couldn't control the weather, but there were countless other things I could control. I shook off the disappointment (mostly) and took stock of how I could make the race day great regardless of the weather gods being assholes.
- I adjusted my race goal to 4:30 (although after running the 5K on Saturday and trying to breathe in that crap, I pushed that to 4:35). Out of 12 marathons, that time would be my 7th fastest...okay by me!
- I rested as much as I could
- I hydrated like I've never hydrated before. At least a gallon of water daily for the week before the race, including electrolytes every day.
- I cut out alcohol.
- I fueled with good food that would make my body happy.
- I purchased a tank made of the lightest possible fabric I could find, in white in case the sun came out (it did).
- I made a new race day game plan (more details below) that took into account this crappy development.
- I reminded myself that I had done the hard work, and had been successful at it, and the race was merely the final bow, and one that I needed to enjoy.
But first on the weekend agenda besides eating all the fabulous food and buying all the fabulous merchandise...I ran a 5K on Saturday. When you run both days on marathon weekend, you earn a crawfish platter. I can't pass up on extra bling, and I've done the 5K the day before a big race a couple other times, so why not? The air Saturday morning was of course thick with fog, but a couple degrees cooler than what Sunday morning would be. I had no plans to go all out in the first mile of the race, but would just try to run a nice negative split without overtaxing myself too much. It would be a fun way to shake out the legs and fire them up a bit before the marathon.
 |
| Can you see the Capitol? Neither could anyone else. |
The race was a blast! I ran a conservative 9:00 first mile, then kicked it up slowly before building up more speed after the halfway turnaround. I ran the first half in about 13:40 so right on target to where I expected to be. I felt so great during the second mile (which came in at 8:21) that I continued to speed up a bit for the final 1.1 miles. I was right at 26 minutes when I crossed the finish line. Great for a shake out run, without pushing myself too hard and compromising my race the next day.
Surprisingly enough, that time unofficially got me 6/125 in my age group, 50/958 for females (say what??), and 178/1614 overall. So maybe I'm a decent 5k runner. Definitely better than I am at marathons!
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| Just a bit humid |
But the air was no doubt pretty awful. Not bad to push through for 3 miles, but a 4+ hour slog in it would be a different story if I wasn't smart. After spending lots of time at the Finish Festival eating all the yummy samples from the vendors and enjoying some great live music, we finally headed out to eat a real brunch. By that time the sun had come out. The air felt pretty crappy and it would probably be the same the next day.
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| The sun came out! |
So here's how it all went down on Sunday....
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| Pre race jitters with a smile |
When we were walking to the start line, the air was so thick it felt like it was drizzling on us. You couldn't see the Louisiana Capitol Building at all. It didn't feel too warm, about 60 degrees. Waiting in the starting chute, however, felt really warm and I was eager to just get going and spread out a bit. I kept telling myself that I'd be done before lunchtime and it would all be worth it.
My plan was to run as even half splits as possible. The last thing I wanted was to go out too fast and then crash at the end. If I could just maintain what I was doing, stay mentally tough at the end, and stay as cool and hydrated as possible, I'd consider it a success. So I started really really slow. First mile was 10:45 and I just wanted to get used to the air. I wasn't breathing too hard those first few miles and felt absolutely fine. I guess that's not too hard to do when the average pace is well over ability..ha!
Running alongside my friend Kalynn helped tremendously. She was running the half marathon but since the split wasn't until Mile 11 I got to spend a lot of time talking to her and it made those first miles go by very quickly. She's a Boston Qualified marathoner, so for her to slow down as much as she did for me was a huge sacrifice on her part and I'm so grateful for that!
The course is just great. I got to run through LSU's campus (did you know they have an actual live tiger living in the middle of campus? Although, sadly, the latest mascot recently died), which meant lots of college boys at aid stations. I wasn't complaining. After leaving campus, the course meandered along Lakeshore Drive for several miles. What a beautiful and peaceful area of the city. Each house was unique and most were really spectacular. The race was actually going to by quickly and before I knew it we were already 10 miles in.
After this point, I was running alone. Kalynn was off to finish the half and start enjoying the festival. My other friend, Tony, who was running the full was probably far ahead of me at this point. But the spectators made it feel anything but lonely. The spectators!! Seriously, the only place that has spectators as awesome as Baton Rouge is maybe Houston, but even so I think Baton Rouge may have them beat. They're aren't as many of them, but they make up for their numbers with their enthusiasm and willingness to help out all the runners as much as possible. It seemed like for every official aid station there were one or two spectator pseudo-aid stations set up outside of residences. They were handing out anything from champagne and beer to Swedish Fish and pretzels.
I also think I made a great choice by putting "Birthday Girl" as my bib name. It made me pretty popular with the spectators and they made sure everyone around knew I was running on my birthday. I had so many smiles while running that it almost made me forget how atrocious the air was.
Almost. I never sped up too much during this race. I hated running slowly, but my strategy was working. I felt okay through at least the first 18 or so miles. There were aid stations every single mile, which was a life saver. I could refill my water bottle or dump water on my head, or grab the ice cups they had after Mile 11. It saved my butt, that's for sure. When the sun came out about 3 hours into the race, the aid stations became even more important. If I couldn't control the weather, at least I could be smart about my hydration. I was being really great about drinking water often and using my Base salts every few miles. I stuck to my nutrition fueling strategy of every 5 miles, and grabbed a couple extra things along the course, like Swedish fish and orange slices. I was a soaking mess towards the end of the race with how much water I had dumped over my head, but it kept me from overheating.
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| So serious! |
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| Clearly I've been dumping a lot of water on myself |
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| This is late in the race but I'm still smiling! |
I'm honestly surprised I never felt really hot during the race, even with the sun. I expect it not only had to do with staying cool with the water, but also with all the shade on the course. Many of the Baton Rouge neighborhoods have tree canopies across their roads, providing an incredible amount of shade for the runners. This is one of the reasons (out of many!) I chose this race. Shade is imperative if the sun is out. And I know I also felt okay because instead of running my 9:45 goal pace I was running 10:15-10:30.
My splits came through as I had planned them, 1:05 at the 10k, 2:15 at the half, 3:16 at 19 miles. I was slowly improving my pace over the miles and it looked like I was likely to cross the line in about 4:31 or 4:32 if I kept up the current pace.
At about 21 miles I got tired. It was taking it's toll on me. I also realized that this was the first time in a very, very long time I had run a non-stop 21+ miles. Every step I had taken on this course so far had been running. I could still see the 4:30 pacer in front of me, and he was my motivation for several of the previous miles. I battled with my head for about the next mile or so about whether I would let myself take a little walk break. I HATE walking during a race, even if it's just for a minute or two. I would prefer slowing down to walking. I guess this wasn't necessarily an ordinary race. If the air was drier I'd be at least another mile ahead at this point and probably wouldn't feel the need to walk, but after over 3 1/2 hours I was definitely getting tired.
I decided to be really regimented about walk breaks for the remainder of the race. I ran until I got to 22.2 miles, so with four miles to go until the finish I walked 1/10th of a mile, then ran another 9/10. It was pushing my pace over 11:00 but I was still in range for a 4:35 if I finished the race like this. I was okay with that. I stuck to that plan for the last four miles.
At Mile 25 Kalynn found me and she ran the rest of the way with me. That last mile was a bit of a blur, because at this point I was definitely ready to be done. It had been a long morning! I usually can pick up the pace that last mile, but last time I did that in humidity like this I ended up in medical. I would never hear the end of it if I had to visit the medical tent again after a race, so speed up I did NOT. As a matter of fact, that last mile (all of which was "running"!) was just as slow as Mile 1. So I guess I really was tired.
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| Not smiling yet...but close... |
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| Finish line smile! |
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| Happy Girl! |
I heard the announcer call my name a couple of times as I was closing in on the finish line and that was really cool. I love races that announce all the finishers as they come in. As soon as I was done (4:35:42!) and could stop running, everything started hurting.
Daaaaamn, walking through the finish chute was hard. My body was seriously yelling at me and all I could think about was that it was time to retire from marathons. I never really hit the wall in this race but those last miles were pretty rough...at least that's what my foggy and tired mind was telling me.
I made it to Kalynn's husband, Cary, and the chairs they had set up and they sweetly took care of me and made sure I was okay. My friend Tony (who trained with MY training plan) PR'd by over 5 minutes. A freaking PR!! On my coaching! A part of me was so proud and so happy and felt so vindicated that the plan I poured over really was awesome, but then I also kind of wanted to hit him a little for running it 32 minutes faster than me. He's a lucky guy to not get affected by the humidity like I do.
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| Thank you Kalynn and Cary for the chair to sit in! |
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| That is a gumbo pot and the fantastic Cajun chefs |
The Finish Festival was just as great the second day and I got my fill of Louisiana food and music for the next hour or so. Then spent about another hour walking the half mile to the hotel (not really, it just felt like it). Luckily I didn't have too much trouble stepping off of curbs this time around (not the case a couple years ago post-Houston Marathon when I stared at a curb for a good minute before attempting to step off it backwards).
A 20 minute shower, a rum and coke while IN the shower, birthday cookies made by my friend Shelley of Sharp Cookie, and the promise of all the fried seafood I could get my hands on got me through the afternoon.
I always learn something from every marathon I complete. I trained very well for this race. It was an ambitious training plan, particularly with needing a little rehab on my IT band, but I powered through it successfully. I was TRAINED. It was a great feeling knowing I toed the line ready to complete that 26.2 miles. I couldn't help that the weather was exactly what I DIDN'T need, but I readjusted my goals and my race day plan and was determined to still be successful. At first glance, a 4:35 (which falls at 7th place for fastest marathon out of the 12 I've done) doesn't seem too great when my original goal was 4:15. However, I ran smart, I pushed through, I stuck to the new race plan, I didn't overheat, my lungs held up, and my half splits were pretty good for a bad weather marathon at 2:15:50 and 2:19:52. It could easily have been really ugly those last few miles had I hit the wall. On a side note, when I checked the results I noticed that even with my slowdown at the end of the race, I moved from 40th in my age group at the 10k split up to 24th at the finish...that might be my favorite statistic.
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| Two medals and a crawfish platter |
My recovery, despite being horribly sick right now 4 days post-race (the FLU!!), has been better than normal. I actually am not having too much trouble with sore muscles or weird pains. Absolutely no IT band pain, which is a bit of a miracle. After my last marathon two years ago, I struggled that next week and never really recovered like I should have, causing me to downgrade another marathon three months later. That's not the case this time around. My legs feel good, if not still a bit sore and tired, but good overall and ready to get back to regular exercise soon.
I'm definitely wondering if I want to sign up for another marathon this winter or early spring. Should I give it another shot?
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Lucky Number 7....well, maybe not so lucky...
December 9 was the day I planned to see a big fat 3 as the first number in my marathon time.
Ha.
That SO didn't happen!
As we got closer to the date of the race, the weather forecast kept getting continually worse. It started out as a starting temp of 40s, then it moved to the 50s, and by the time race morning rolled around it was 69 degrees at 6am. Add in 95% humidity, and it was downright YUCKY. I've had a few good runs in conditions like that, but not a marathon distance...and not 9 minute average pace.
I knew in my heart a 3:59 was not going to happen, so I adjusted my expectations to a 4:15 or so, maybe a 4:20, but I did think I might still squeak in a personal best (4:26:27) since I was a much stronger runner this season. I thought I could maintain less than a 10:10 average if my asthma didn't bug me too much. I held out hope that the cloud cover would keep me from getting too overheated.
I started off the race fairly conservative, running about 10:00 min average pace for the first couple miles, dropping to around 9:20-9:30 for a few more miles, but then just could not maintain it. By mile 6 I took off my tank because it was already soaked with sweat. Running a race in my sports bra for the first time...not a pretty sight, but I didn't really care!
My coach, Tony, stuck with me for much longer than I expected him to. He's probably a good 10 minutes faster than me in a marathon distance, and I know it's been killing him to not have a sub-4 on the books yet, so I told him if he stuck with me and it screwed up his race I would have to kill him. But he knew he wasn't really shooting for that goal for this race, either. It was simply way too humid out to get into a good race groove at that pace. So he hung out for a while and was perfectly happy doing so.
We saw my family at Mile 6 and it was AWESOME. Always wonderful to see friendly faces along the course, especially when you aren't feeling great. And I wasn't really feeling great. I had a decent pace, but I knew my breathing wasn't where it should be that early on in a marathon. I should feel like I'd barely started running, but I was already laboring. And it didn't help when I thought to myself, "only 20 more miles." Ugh, 20 more freaking miles in this soup??
At some point between miles 6 and 10 we saw another friendly face, our friend Dorothy from Georgetown. I had no idea she would be out there on the race course cheering on her friends. She jogged next to us for awhile and chatted and gave us a great mental boost. I seriously love that woman! I hoped we'd see her again (I ended up seeing her twice more...and each time she jogged with me for a bit and gave me the encouragement I needed).
Between miles 7 and 12 there were rolling hills, not bad ones, just what seemed like a lot. The director warned us so we really couldn't complain...but we did anyway. Tony finally decided I was running too slow and went ahead of me at 10 miles. I just wasn't running fast at this point. 9:30 miles felt like 9:00's. I think Mile 10 was more like 9:45. Tony was still feeling okay and I'm sure it felt better for him to run a faster pace.
At the 13 mile point I saw my family again so I finally took a walk break. I felt pretty good that I managed to keep running and was right around 9:35 overall pace through 13 miles. Plus the family had cold wet towels for me....what a relief! I walked through the timing mat at 13.1 (2:07), shared my towel with a couple other runners, (one lady I talked to ran a 3:50 marathon earlier in the year...I wasnt feeling so bad about my performance after learning that!),and then started running again. Mile 14, at 10:54, was my slowest of the race so far since I walked for a couple minutes.
At this point I knew I still had a PR in sight if I could keep my asthma under control. Could I pull off a 2:19 second half? Maybe I could. I told myself to run until I hit 16.2 and then I'd give myself a short break before tackling the last 10.
I passed the 16.2 mark, checked my watch and saw I needed a 1:50 for the final 10 miles to hit a PR. I could possibly do that, so instead of taking that break I kept running. It just wasn't comfortable, however. I couldn't run much faster than 10 minute pace without feeling like it was way too hard to breathe, although my legs wanted to run faster. I kept at it until about 17.7 miles and just needed to give my lungs a break. For the first time ever in a race I had to take a hit on my inhaler. I knew I would see the family again at either 18 or 22 so I started running again.
They were a sight for sore eyes at 18 miles and I got another cold towel. I think I said something to Greg about it being an 8 mile death march to the finish. I couldn't believe I had 8 miles left. But I had to push through. I felt the PR slipping away but tried to focus on the fact that the albuterol might give me magic breathing powers and that my training was great and that I was one tough chick. That thinking didn't last too long, sadly.
After crossing the timing mat at 20 miles (in 3:22), I kind of gave up a little of my toughness. I was so frustrated that my lungs couldn't keep up with my legs (which were fine). I didn't want to walk. I knew that the stopping and starting would hurt my legs more than just keeping a steady running rhythm. But every time I tried to pick up my pace, I felt lightheaded. I had no choice but to walk to give my lungs a break. If I wanted to finish this thing I needed to be smart. This mental and physical battle gave me my slowest mile of the race (14 min) but I sucked it up and vowed to stick to 11's or better for the last 5 miles. I'd have a time in the 4:30's, which would be my third fastest marathon time. Couldn't really complain about that!
Funny enough, with all the turns through A&M we were making on this stretch and all the fantastic spectators, that last hour of the race didn't really feel that long. I saw Greg and the kids again at 22 miles, got my cold towel (I got a couple more after that, too, from towels stations....genius!!), and knew I really was on the home stretch. I was seeing a lot of the same runners going back and forth with me, which was comforting. I knew Tony was a few minutes ahead and hoped he was still pulling off a PR (4:17). I was going to get a time in the 4:30's, which in these horrendous conditions was something to be proud of. I tried running 6-8 minutes at a time, then walking a 1/4 mile, and it was working well enough.
When I saw the 25 mile sign I really felt better mentally. At a mile to go I just ran. It hurt horribly but I needed to be done. That last mile was actually 1.2 (something wasn't right about that extra distance and I should probably ask the race director about it) and it felt so hard to finish it up. When I made my final turn I saw Karen (who ran the half) and Punkin. Punkin started running with me and then I saw Tony with a beer in his hand and it made me smile.
Crossing the finish line was such HUGE relief....and then I couldn't breathe. The medical staff grabbed me, a sweet child from the Downs Syndrome Association of Brazos Valley put my medal around my neck, and the med staff got me my finishers shirt and took me to the medical tent right away. A few cold towels on me and some Gatorade made me slowly feel better. I saw my friend Randall, who also had a bad race, and I could see Tony patiently waiting to see if I was okay. No wheezing so they released me after a few minutes.
Thank God I was done.
Marathon #7 in 4:38:15. 80 degrees, 80% humidity at the finish.
I wasn't disappointed. I know I did my best. It wasn't close to my goal but my training made me a stronger, faster runner. A year ago this would've been another 5 hour marathon. Looking back I realized my legs held up well, I never felt too overheated, and mentally I kept the doubts in check for the majority of the race. Those are all huge wins. And I beat the average finishing time by 7 minutes. I'll take it!!
Karen rocked her half marathon and got a PR, Tony didn't PR but posted his 3rd fastest time of 4:28, and we were done!
Tony and I agree that we are not right in the head.
Ha.
That SO didn't happen!
As we got closer to the date of the race, the weather forecast kept getting continually worse. It started out as a starting temp of 40s, then it moved to the 50s, and by the time race morning rolled around it was 69 degrees at 6am. Add in 95% humidity, and it was downright YUCKY. I've had a few good runs in conditions like that, but not a marathon distance...and not 9 minute average pace.
I knew in my heart a 3:59 was not going to happen, so I adjusted my expectations to a 4:15 or so, maybe a 4:20, but I did think I might still squeak in a personal best (4:26:27) since I was a much stronger runner this season. I thought I could maintain less than a 10:10 average if my asthma didn't bug me too much. I held out hope that the cloud cover would keep me from getting too overheated.
I started off the race fairly conservative, running about 10:00 min average pace for the first couple miles, dropping to around 9:20-9:30 for a few more miles, but then just could not maintain it. By mile 6 I took off my tank because it was already soaked with sweat. Running a race in my sports bra for the first time...not a pretty sight, but I didn't really care!
My coach, Tony, stuck with me for much longer than I expected him to. He's probably a good 10 minutes faster than me in a marathon distance, and I know it's been killing him to not have a sub-4 on the books yet, so I told him if he stuck with me and it screwed up his race I would have to kill him. But he knew he wasn't really shooting for that goal for this race, either. It was simply way too humid out to get into a good race groove at that pace. So he hung out for a while and was perfectly happy doing so.
We saw my family at Mile 6 and it was AWESOME. Always wonderful to see friendly faces along the course, especially when you aren't feeling great. And I wasn't really feeling great. I had a decent pace, but I knew my breathing wasn't where it should be that early on in a marathon. I should feel like I'd barely started running, but I was already laboring. And it didn't help when I thought to myself, "only 20 more miles." Ugh, 20 more freaking miles in this soup??
At some point between miles 6 and 10 we saw another friendly face, our friend Dorothy from Georgetown. I had no idea she would be out there on the race course cheering on her friends. She jogged next to us for awhile and chatted and gave us a great mental boost. I seriously love that woman! I hoped we'd see her again (I ended up seeing her twice more...and each time she jogged with me for a bit and gave me the encouragement I needed).
Between miles 7 and 12 there were rolling hills, not bad ones, just what seemed like a lot. The director warned us so we really couldn't complain...but we did anyway. Tony finally decided I was running too slow and went ahead of me at 10 miles. I just wasn't running fast at this point. 9:30 miles felt like 9:00's. I think Mile 10 was more like 9:45. Tony was still feeling okay and I'm sure it felt better for him to run a faster pace.
At the 13 mile point I saw my family again so I finally took a walk break. I felt pretty good that I managed to keep running and was right around 9:35 overall pace through 13 miles. Plus the family had cold wet towels for me....what a relief! I walked through the timing mat at 13.1 (2:07), shared my towel with a couple other runners, (one lady I talked to ran a 3:50 marathon earlier in the year...I wasnt feeling so bad about my performance after learning that!),and then started running again. Mile 14, at 10:54, was my slowest of the race so far since I walked for a couple minutes.
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| Small race, awesome scenery |
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| Woohoo....a towel!! |
I passed the 16.2 mark, checked my watch and saw I needed a 1:50 for the final 10 miles to hit a PR. I could possibly do that, so instead of taking that break I kept running. It just wasn't comfortable, however. I couldn't run much faster than 10 minute pace without feeling like it was way too hard to breathe, although my legs wanted to run faster. I kept at it until about 17.7 miles and just needed to give my lungs a break. For the first time ever in a race I had to take a hit on my inhaler. I knew I would see the family again at either 18 or 22 so I started running again.
They were a sight for sore eyes at 18 miles and I got another cold towel. I think I said something to Greg about it being an 8 mile death march to the finish. I couldn't believe I had 8 miles left. But I had to push through. I felt the PR slipping away but tried to focus on the fact that the albuterol might give me magic breathing powers and that my training was great and that I was one tough chick. That thinking didn't last too long, sadly.
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| Hook'em! |
After crossing the timing mat at 20 miles (in 3:22), I kind of gave up a little of my toughness. I was so frustrated that my lungs couldn't keep up with my legs (which were fine). I didn't want to walk. I knew that the stopping and starting would hurt my legs more than just keeping a steady running rhythm. But every time I tried to pick up my pace, I felt lightheaded. I had no choice but to walk to give my lungs a break. If I wanted to finish this thing I needed to be smart. This mental and physical battle gave me my slowest mile of the race (14 min) but I sucked it up and vowed to stick to 11's or better for the last 5 miles. I'd have a time in the 4:30's, which would be my third fastest marathon time. Couldn't really complain about that!
Funny enough, with all the turns through A&M we were making on this stretch and all the fantastic spectators, that last hour of the race didn't really feel that long. I saw Greg and the kids again at 22 miles, got my cold towel (I got a couple more after that, too, from towels stations....genius!!), and knew I really was on the home stretch. I was seeing a lot of the same runners going back and forth with me, which was comforting. I knew Tony was a few minutes ahead and hoped he was still pulling off a PR (4:17). I was going to get a time in the 4:30's, which in these horrendous conditions was something to be proud of. I tried running 6-8 minutes at a time, then walking a 1/4 mile, and it was working well enough.
When I saw the 25 mile sign I really felt better mentally. At a mile to go I just ran. It hurt horribly but I needed to be done. That last mile was actually 1.2 (something wasn't right about that extra distance and I should probably ask the race director about it) and it felt so hard to finish it up. When I made my final turn I saw Karen (who ran the half) and Punkin. Punkin started running with me and then I saw Tony with a beer in his hand and it made me smile.
Crossing the finish line was such HUGE relief....and then I couldn't breathe. The medical staff grabbed me, a sweet child from the Downs Syndrome Association of Brazos Valley put my medal around my neck, and the med staff got me my finishers shirt and took me to the medical tent right away. A few cold towels on me and some Gatorade made me slowly feel better. I saw my friend Randall, who also had a bad race, and I could see Tony patiently waiting to see if I was okay. No wheezing so they released me after a few minutes.
Thank God I was done.
Marathon #7 in 4:38:15. 80 degrees, 80% humidity at the finish.
I wasn't disappointed. I know I did my best. It wasn't close to my goal but my training made me a stronger, faster runner. A year ago this would've been another 5 hour marathon. Looking back I realized my legs held up well, I never felt too overheated, and mentally I kept the doubts in check for the majority of the race. Those are all huge wins. And I beat the average finishing time by 7 minutes. I'll take it!!
Karen rocked her half marathon and got a PR, Tony didn't PR but posted his 3rd fastest time of 4:28, and we were done!
Tony and I agree that we are not right in the head.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Crash and Burn....in a 5K???
On Sunday I participated in a 5K...partly because I really need to work on speed and 5K's are an awesome way to push yourself to get better speed, and partly because it was a race organized by our neighbors, the Smiths, to benefit the Epilepsy Foundation in memory of their son Kaden who passed away at age 9 from a fatal seizure last year.
As you know I've developed a lot of confidence in maintaining a faster pace lately. My runs have been pretty strong overall and I've gotten more comfortable pushing myself. I passed up the opportunity to run in really cool temps this past week in favor of the warm gym just so I didn't mess myself up during the race, knowing the temps would be warm that day. I've done a couple speed workouts that turned out well and with it being "only" a 5K I figured I could do anything for 25 minutes so matter how bad it hurt. Famous last words....
My goal ever since I signed up was to get a medal. The race info indicated that the top 3 in each age group would get a medal, and I didn't even think to look at the age group details, figuring mine would be either 30-39 or 35-39. I looked a couple days prior to the race....my age group was 19-39. Me, age 37, competing with 20-somethings? This could be ugly.
The beginning of the race started off well, if you ignored the wind and humidity of course (but I expected this!). I felt good and comfortable at my pace. I actually never looked at my watch to see how fast I was running, not once during this first mile. That would be my FIRST mistake. I saw my friend Erica in front of me the entire first mile and I thought we may have been the top 2 females in the race (found out later Erica was #2 as there was an even faster girl in front of her). As we moved into mile 2 we were directly into the wind, which was probably about 20 mph. Not gonna lie - I shouldn't have passed up the water at that first water stop...talk about dry mouth during a run. Wow, the wind can totally suck. That would probably be my SECOND mistake.
My pain threshold lasted probably about 13 minutes. I really couldn't breathe. My legs were good, my lungs were not. I REALLY couldn't breathe. I didn't know how I'd hold up for another 11 or 12 minutes. Mistake number THREE was walking instead of just slowing down. DUMB MOVE. I know better than to walk - once you give in to that there's really no going back. It's easy to keep giving in. I should have just slowed to a 9 minute pace or so for about a quarter mile and got my breathing under control. I saw that I was just over 16 minutes through 2 miles...a very good pace and even with walking I was going to produce a respectable time and possibly get a medal. However, it was about this time that a couple of ladies who looked no older than me passed me, so unless they just looked REALLY good for their age I was out of contention.
I slogged through that last mile and finished the slightly short course in 25:14. I'm kind of bummed that the course was a bit short as I was about to start my final push to the finish when we turned the last corner and the finish was RIGHT THERE. I don't know why I didn't realize we were that close already. So I never got the opportunity to put on my final fast sprint, which I'm pretty good at usually. Not that it would have made a big difference overall. I believe my actual pace was about 8:35...not what I was looking for at all.
I talked to another lady who finished right in front of me and she mentioned that as we were running alongside each other she could hear me wheezing and definitely having trouble with my breathing overall. She asked if I had asthma. I do occasionally wheeze when around cats but running-induced asthma? Or possibly induced by the high humidity or other allergens kicked around by the wind? It was definitely likely and could have contributed to my crash and burn. It's something I'm going to have to look into with my family's allergy and asthma doctor.
Overall, I finished 5th in my age group and was the 7th overall woman. Had I been 40 or older, I would have gotten that darn medal, but my age group was really tough obviously. A lot of talented ladies were out there running a great race. It was exciting to see three of my neighbors take medals, including Erica and her husband John. Remember them from the relay? Yeah, they rock. I almost beat John...ALMOST. Erica? Not gonna happen. Did I mention she rode 100 miles on her bike into headwinds the day before this race?
Remember how I mentioned I never looked at my watch during that first mile? Yeah, I should have...it was 7:45. About 20-30 seconds too fast. That should have been the pace on my LAST mile. My last mile wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, but it was still a slightly disappointing 9:13. On any training run that wouldn't bum me out, but not during a 5K.
As always, I take lessons from every race. I have another 5K in July. I will not go out too fast. I will continue my speed workouts. I will not go out too fast. I will slow down if necessary and take a breather. I will not go out too fast. I will medal (well, that REALLY depends on the competition...you just never know).
As you know I've developed a lot of confidence in maintaining a faster pace lately. My runs have been pretty strong overall and I've gotten more comfortable pushing myself. I passed up the opportunity to run in really cool temps this past week in favor of the warm gym just so I didn't mess myself up during the race, knowing the temps would be warm that day. I've done a couple speed workouts that turned out well and with it being "only" a 5K I figured I could do anything for 25 minutes so matter how bad it hurt. Famous last words....
My goal ever since I signed up was to get a medal. The race info indicated that the top 3 in each age group would get a medal, and I didn't even think to look at the age group details, figuring mine would be either 30-39 or 35-39. I looked a couple days prior to the race....my age group was 19-39. Me, age 37, competing with 20-somethings? This could be ugly.
The beginning of the race started off well, if you ignored the wind and humidity of course (but I expected this!). I felt good and comfortable at my pace. I actually never looked at my watch to see how fast I was running, not once during this first mile. That would be my FIRST mistake. I saw my friend Erica in front of me the entire first mile and I thought we may have been the top 2 females in the race (found out later Erica was #2 as there was an even faster girl in front of her). As we moved into mile 2 we were directly into the wind, which was probably about 20 mph. Not gonna lie - I shouldn't have passed up the water at that first water stop...talk about dry mouth during a run. Wow, the wind can totally suck. That would probably be my SECOND mistake.
My pain threshold lasted probably about 13 minutes. I really couldn't breathe. My legs were good, my lungs were not. I REALLY couldn't breathe. I didn't know how I'd hold up for another 11 or 12 minutes. Mistake number THREE was walking instead of just slowing down. DUMB MOVE. I know better than to walk - once you give in to that there's really no going back. It's easy to keep giving in. I should have just slowed to a 9 minute pace or so for about a quarter mile and got my breathing under control. I saw that I was just over 16 minutes through 2 miles...a very good pace and even with walking I was going to produce a respectable time and possibly get a medal. However, it was about this time that a couple of ladies who looked no older than me passed me, so unless they just looked REALLY good for their age I was out of contention.
I slogged through that last mile and finished the slightly short course in 25:14. I'm kind of bummed that the course was a bit short as I was about to start my final push to the finish when we turned the last corner and the finish was RIGHT THERE. I don't know why I didn't realize we were that close already. So I never got the opportunity to put on my final fast sprint, which I'm pretty good at usually. Not that it would have made a big difference overall. I believe my actual pace was about 8:35...not what I was looking for at all.
I talked to another lady who finished right in front of me and she mentioned that as we were running alongside each other she could hear me wheezing and definitely having trouble with my breathing overall. She asked if I had asthma. I do occasionally wheeze when around cats but running-induced asthma? Or possibly induced by the high humidity or other allergens kicked around by the wind? It was definitely likely and could have contributed to my crash and burn. It's something I'm going to have to look into with my family's allergy and asthma doctor.
Overall, I finished 5th in my age group and was the 7th overall woman. Had I been 40 or older, I would have gotten that darn medal, but my age group was really tough obviously. A lot of talented ladies were out there running a great race. It was exciting to see three of my neighbors take medals, including Erica and her husband John. Remember them from the relay? Yeah, they rock. I almost beat John...ALMOST. Erica? Not gonna happen. Did I mention she rode 100 miles on her bike into headwinds the day before this race?
Remember how I mentioned I never looked at my watch during that first mile? Yeah, I should have...it was 7:45. About 20-30 seconds too fast. That should have been the pace on my LAST mile. My last mile wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, but it was still a slightly disappointing 9:13. On any training run that wouldn't bum me out, but not during a 5K.
As always, I take lessons from every race. I have another 5K in July. I will not go out too fast. I will continue my speed workouts. I will not go out too fast. I will slow down if necessary and take a breather. I will not go out too fast. I will medal (well, that REALLY depends on the competition...you just never know).
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