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Dec 31

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Brazen bookends

I ran my second 10K on Jan. 2. It had a huge hill. I vowed to NEVER, EVER do it again. That day, though, I fell in love with the racing company.

Despite the fact that I had another runner grab my back and nearly pull me down (nice running etiquette lady) and there was mud everywhere, I managed to finish in 1:34:18. I literally got to the finish line, ate only half of an It’s It and told my husband to take me home. Brazen Racing, though, found a place in my heart.

The race director and his wife are good people. They are prompt in replying to email. They are responsive to every question. They make each and every racer feel as if they are a winner. I’m not kidding. This race was the first race I’d ever received a finisher’s medal at. I ran a 10K and got a beautiful medal (pictured above, left).

But I hated the run. With a passion.

I put the Lake Chabot route, with it’s 600+ rise in elevation over one mile, on my “no go” list.

Then midway through the fall I decided to run a half marathon on New Year’s Eve, which put me out of consideration for any Brazen New Year’s runs. Unfortunately, the half was canceled.

I haven’t been in top shape to run over the past month. I was told to expect that as a first-time marathoner. Confession: My legs were thrashed for three weeks post marathon. I’m just getting my running form and want to run back. I knew Brazen was offering back to back days of racing. I also knew that after the past year of putting down an average of $70 a race, I didn’t want to do two back to back right after Christmas (I forgot I had a credit from the race I couldn’t do in August because of the strained Achilles).

So I hemmed and hawed about signing up for even one. Finally I saw on the Brazen Facebook page that there were only 41 spots left for the 10K on New Year’s Eve. I signed up.

I knew what I was in for.

Yep. All uphill between mile two and three. And it burned.

And so it began.

Mile 1: 10:48 — Oh hey legs, remember when I told you we’d never do this again? Apparently I lied, don’t worry, let’s just get going.

Mile 2: 12:54 — Where did the hills come from? I’m not even warmed up yet. Oh and a backup at the single-file bridge. “This is totally going to mess up my time!” said one woman. Eh, whatever.

I don’t even look like I’m running here. Plus, there’s pain on my face already. To be fair, I don’t even remember this photo being shot, but it was before the bridge, so somewhere going into mile two.

Mile 3: 18:57 — OH. MY. GOD. WHY. AM. I. DOING. THIS? Yes, I said that over and over again. I’m surprised it didn’t take me longer.

Mile 4: 13:22 — Uphill continues, congestion at aid station. Lots of people finally turning around.

Mile 5: 12:12 — Down, down, down. I’m being careful because I don’t want to topple to my death.

Mile 6: 12:33 — Keep it classy rolling hills, make me work for it. My legs are completely dead at this point. I just want to see the finish line. COME ON FINISH LINE.

Mile .36: 9:49 — Seriously? Why did this take so long? What was I doing? I have no explanation for my slowness here. I was whipped.

Chip time: 1:24:04

I was more than 10 minutes faster than my previous time. Go me. Seriously. That is awesome.

Cross the finish line, grab five cups of water. I’m not kidding. I run 10Ks without my Amphipod bottles. I didn’t even have my iFitness belt. I was crazy thirsty.

I was handed my medal with an old man on it, part of the “out with the old, in with the new theme” and was done. I had no cell phone reception to call the fine gentleman I call my husband.

Instead, I ran into this fine group of folks.

The Mountain House Runners were out in force at this event. (Though I’m pretty sure we missed one or two here?) I live in Tracy, but run out in Mountain House more than I do in my own city limits. I like it better out there. And these folks are really nice. I’m glad they haven’t kicked me out or anything for living in Tracy.

Corey let me borrow his phone. Thomas didn’t answer. But we could send texts. He was actually still waiting for me on the trail. He thought I was slower than I had been. I finally found him.

I think that’s his excited face. He’s really thrilled to be up at the crack of dawn waiting for me to finish a run. He does because he loves me. Plus I’m really at driving with other people. I always freak out a little bit. Then have to go to the bathroom. It’s just better if he takes me.

Brazen is also hosting New Year’s Day races. I’m not heading back. I like my 2011 Brazen bookends, as I call them. Plus I’ve learned enough about this racing company to know I always want to spend a couple extra bucks getting an awesome tech shirt.

When I finished the race, I thought I’d finished my 20th race this year. Turns out I forgot about my Turkey Trot 10K PR. Oops. The last Brazen race of the year marks my 21st run of the year. And because it’s Dec. 31, I figured I should tally it all out in this blog post as well before the New Year happens.

Total miles: 930

5Ks: 1

5-miler: 1

10Ks: 9

12K: 1

Half marathons: 7

Marathon: 1

Team events: 1

All for a total of 21 races.

I started out 2011 with hopes of running a half marathon. Running a full 26.2 was never on the agenda. I’m glad, too. I think I would have psyched myself out a bit too much.

So, with that knowledge I make no projections for my running in 2012. I hope to make it over 1,000 miles this year. I ran probably closer to 400-500 in 2010, so this year’s progress is huge. I also want to get back on track for losing some weight. I need to eat better. I need to cross train. And, at some point, I’m planning a sprint triathlon.

We’ll see how far the feet take me next year.

Dec 30

A runner’s Christmas

I’m posting this five days later than I wanted to. That’s mainly because I’m tired. I’ve been swamped at work most of the week. And I have a 10K tomorrow morning I’ve been thinking about a little too much. (As in, am I ready for a 10K less than 30 days after a marathon? I’m crazy.)

Christmas was awesome, though.

Consider my presents started collecting earlier in the month with these beauties:

No, not running shoes. I do need a new pair of those, but that will have to wait. These are bicycle shoes. Score one that they match the bike. Score two that now I can clip in and get going.

I also got a wonderful trainer for the bicycle from my husband.

I didn’t think I needed this. I do. My butt hurts nearly immediately when I start riding. I can’t go for more than a couple minutes. This baby will be my cross-training device starting next week. Running every other day with an alternating swimming + biking day here and there. To accomplish this, I’m going to need a cadence sensor for the bicycle too.

My husband got it together for me and got it mounted. I think he may have enjoyed it too. Just a little.

And now I’m ready to go. This is good for several reasons.

I’m having a hard time getting going on the bicycle. I’m blaming fatigue and the fact that I’ve been overindulging on EVERYTHING food related lately. Why? I’m in a slump. I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a lot of things I’m not happy with about my life/professional/personal situations right now.

I’m making an effort to change those things in 2012.

I also am still experiencing some fear when it comes to the bicycle. It’s fast. Ridiculously fast. I’m scared of it. There, I said it.

So while I’m making changes to my life in 2012, I’m hoping to also be less afraid of my bicycle.

Maybe it I name it, we’ll develop a greater kinship? That helped with the uber-intimidating Garmin, who is now Gertrude II or Gert-II.

We’ll see.

I’m going through a bit of a frustrating patch with an injury from shooting video as well. I’m planning to blog more about that soon. I just don’t want to rehash it because it’s really bothering me. It’s a tendon strain in my right thumb. It hurts. A lot. I can’t even begin to describe how much pain something so small can be to someone.

Which brings me to another one of my favorite gifts:

Oh yeah, I’m a 27-year-old woman who got Legos from her husband and parents for Christmas. Why? Playing with them helps me increase dexterity in my bad thumb.

I don’t care if when I get better they won’t be nearly as useful. Legos are awesome.

Dec 24

Like the first time

On Wednesday, the treadmill repair guy came. I expressed some hesitations about my dealings with the warranty company before.

How can you diagnosis a problem without, first, seeing the treadmill?

What if the fix isn’t as simple as you think?

Turns out, at least in this case, my fears were unwarranted. The repairman was highly knowledgeable, cordial and funny. He didn’t take too long. And the best part? He got my machine back up and running.

The culprit behind the nasty belt slip wasn’t the “walking belt” as they call it. (Serious? It’s a “running belt” in my house. I NEVER walk on my treadmill. Ever. The idea is ridiculous.)

The problem was the drive belt and tension coil holding on to it. Turns out I actually did run my treadmill into the ground, via a very worn, but not mangled, drive belt. The repair company also sent lubricant for the deck. Apparently I needed that too.

The fix was quick, but I didn’t get to take my treadmill on a “maiden voyage” per se until my Friday off from work. I’ve been really busy with the holidays. To be fair, I wasn’t even sure I could make six miles.

I’d only run two and four since the marathon (recovery took more time for me than most people). Nonetheless, I hopped on Friday morning. And set the speed for a slow 12-minute pace. That’s my most common beginning setting since my shin splints earlier this year.

And I ran. And ran. Six miles later I’d reached my goal for the day.

Today I hopped on for an eight mile run.

Oh treadmill, I missed you so. I stared at my frozen duck pool outside and said: “This is why people buy treadmills. So they don’t have to run in that.”

I should mention the ride is smoother than I remember too. I had no pain. The belt was running good. It was like a new treadmill. Like the first time all over again.

I’ve run a total of 18 miles this week so far. I’m considering a four or six mile run for Christmas morning on the treadmill. Why? I’m considering it a Christmas miracle that I WANT to run again. I WANT to run far. No “I’ll do three.” I want a 10-mile run sometime soon.

Two weeks ago I was wondering if I’d ever run again. That thought did cross my mind.

Now I do. I even signed up for one last 10K for 2011. More on that later.

Fixed treadmill and 18 miles so far this week. A minor Christmas miracle for this runner and her tired legs.

 

Dec 22

I (heart) sweat

I’ve done some Christmas shopping for myself in addition to others this year. Why? Because not everyone understands my love of the sport. I didn’t want to make a “running wish list,” though I’ve had one for awhile.

So I’ve been dropping hints for myself lately and picking up some much wanted items.

One came today.

I read a great blog called Ali on the Run. The author is based in New York City and has Crohn’s disease. She ran a marathon earlier this year and raised money for the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America while working toward her 26.2. She ended up raising more than $20,000.

Now I’m really bad at fundraising. I remember the typical elementary school walk-a-thon. I only asked my parents, grandparents, etc. And I raised just enough to earn a T-shirt. (Wooooo!)

Ali is impressive because she had a great idea. Insert shirt above.

She came up with the “I (heart) sweat” shirts. I started seeing them all over running blogs. I wanted one.

But they were nowhere to be found. I even Googled “I (heart) sweat” to track one down. I saw some generic knock offs of the shirt, but they definitely weren’t the Ali versions. AND, none of them were benefiting her awesome cause.

I got lucky then when I saw her blog mentioning she had more shirts. The post was several hours old. I saw comments that said “you’re already sold out!” and quickly went to the T-shirt website.

The site was out of a lot of colors. But they had a long-sleeve version in rouge red.

Score!

And she still had some larges in the Brooks shirt left.

It came today, like promised, before Christmas.

It’s actually the same feathered red color as my Brooks “Run Happy” shirt.

It came with a cute little “I (heart) sweat” label on the package too.

I’m excited to wear it for one of my next runs. It’s been cold here. Not as cold as the on the East Coast or anything, but it’s cold enough that I can see my breath more than 30 minutes into a run.

So I’ve been layering. And this is the perfect addition to my now many layers.

The shirt is pretty cool, if I can say so. I’m glad I locked one in before they all sold out.

 

Dec 18

Treadmill troubles

I have a confession to make: I love my treadmill.

It’s something of a sin as a runner to say that, though. I’m supposed to love running outdoors. Feeling the breeze through my hair. Enjoying the sun beating down on me. Blah, blah, blah.

The truth is, running outside is sometimes not very glamorous. I’ve had guys yell at me from cars. I’ve nearly been hit by cars. I’ve had to make unexpected pit stops at not-too-pleasant park bathrooms.

I only really like running outside in Mountain  House. My long runs in Tracy have a tendency to be incredibly painful at times.

So I turn to my treadmill.

I do it often. Sometimes it’s a mid-length eight-mile run. I’ve done as much as 15 miles on my treadmill before.

Why? Because, unfortunately, my treadmill is always ready. It gets dark and my running buddies are unavailable. I don’t want to run alone, for the reasons I mentioned above.

And I love my treadmill. I can put on Netflix on my iPad and watch crazy programs such as Destination Truth or Ghost Adventures. I just kind of go on automatic and push through. I’m admitting now, much of my marathon training was done on the treadmill.

So when it started acting up about four weeks ago, I panicked a little, but didn’t overreact too much. My treadmill is four years old. I’ve never had is serviced.

And it needs to be serviced. But I kept going on it. Why? The marathon was only weeks away. And it’s been getting cold here.

I know “cold” is a wussy reason to not want to go running outside, but my last long run before the marathon was a 10-miler through Tracy and I was cold and tired all 10 miles of it.

I took a week off after the marathon.

To be fair, my legs are still tired. But they are also itching to run. And I’m overeating. Bad combination.

So I readied myself to hop on the treadmill earlier this week.

The belt was slipping before. When I hopped on this time, it WOULD NOT MOVE.

Yep. It was stuck. And I haven’t gained THAT much weight not running since the marathon (I’m still swimming and I’ve gone to another fitness class with Sam twice).

I turned it off. And on.

Started with a walk (rare for me).

Go. Go. STOP. Go. STOP. STOP.

Well there goes that.

One of my running club buddies wrote on my Facebook wall that it was pretty badass to run down my treadmill.

And that’s essentially what I had done. I’ve run a ridiculous amount on my treadmill this year staring down this marathon. It fits in with the two-jobs, multiple responsibility work environment I’m in. It fits in with my lifestyle.

So I placed a call to the treadmill repair folks who hold my warranty. They said they’d send a kit out to my house. Then I’d have to call another number.

This is a dumb process to say the least. Shouldn’t the repair person come BEFORE to diagnosis the problem? I’m so glad they take my word for it.

I was expecting a large package (maybe a new belt?), but instead, I got a small brown envelope with two items:

In this bag is a new drive belt. I’m not 100 percent sure the guy knew what I meant when I said my belt was “slipping.” He should have. But I got this nonetheless. I’m a little confused by this.

Oh, and they sent me lube. I thought this was kind of funny. It even came with a “lubrication pattern” diagram to make sure the person who eventually comes to fix my treadmill knows what he or she is doing.

I called the number back for treadmill repair and was told someone would be calling me within 48 hours to schedule an appointment. That was Friday afternoon. I haven’t heard yet and it’s Sunday night.

I’m assuming I’ll get a call at some point Monday. I better. I’m a little annoyed by this not-happening-quickly repair so far.

And I’m worried that once someone comes, it still won’t be right.

I just want to run again. I know I can open my door and move outside, but right now my treadmill feels comfortable to me. Maybe it’s post-marathon anxiety, but my treadmill is where I want to be.

I can’t wait to have it back functioning.

Dec 16

Things to catch up on

Over the next couple days I need to blog about several things: swimming, biking, a broken treadmill and pole dancing class among the topics.

I need to get on this.

And I need to start running again.

Dec 12

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Meet me Monday: Duration champ

 

 

With all the marathon training and preparation, I didn’t get a chance to write this post until now. In late November, my running club had its first quarterly awards. I earned the title “Duration Champ” for posting 60+ hours of running in a quarter.

That’s a lot of running.

I laughed, though, because it didn’t seem like I got very far. The truth is I’m a little slow, my pace ranges from 10 minute miles to 12 minute miles. So it takes me longer to do the same distances as other people.

If I didn’t have two jobs, I could devote more time to running. But this is kind of my situation as it is now. I’m not complaining at all. I wish I had more time to work on being faster. I just don’t.

I’m honored by this medal, though. I found the Mountain House Running Club thanks to my running buddy Sam. I live in Tracy. Mountain House is about 5 miles west of Tracy and sits along the Altamont.

It’s a beautiful, small community. There are some nice trails, but, more importantly, there are wide sidewalks to run. That’s one of the reasons I love it. It’s kind of become my running home.

I’d rather run there than Tracy any day. And I do run a majority of my outdoor runs in Mountain House.

I also like the club because there are good, dedicated people involved. They care about running and the club. It’s a nice group.

So I’m humbled to be the club’s duration champ this quarter.

I’m not sure I’m working on any sort of medal this quarter. I’ve only run two miserable little miles since the marathon. I’m having a hard time convincing myself to get up and go. I kind of feel like I’ll never run again. I felt this way after my first half marathon too, but I don’t like it much. I want to get up and go. I just can’t find it in me to do so.

That said, I’ve done some swimming and biking instead. Good cross training. Still…I’d like to get my legs going again soon.

Dec 8

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Mind over marathon: Part III

I crossed the starting mat about two minutes after the gun went off. I was surprised it went that fast actually. And the flow was good. It wasn’t too fast, because I wasn’t in he front or anywhere near. I was making good time. Or I thought so at the time. It turns out I as going out way too fast.

Mile 1: 10:30 — A gentle downhill, through an intersection. It’s deserted, but nice.

Mile 2:10:36 — The path started going uphill a little, but not bad. Still moving along fine.

Mile 3: 10:30 — The gentle downhills seems OK about right here, but I’m starting to feel the burn in my thighs. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m just starting to warm up.

Mile 4: 10:58

Mile 5: 10:54 — Hitting some small hills here.  I slow to take a Vanilla Bean Gu.

Mile 6: 10:49

Mile 7: 11:50 — Here’s where the nerves start getting me. I can’t tell if it’s because I did the Gu too quickly or because my stomach is still in knots. But I start to slow a little over the next couple miles. I feel fatigue. I realize feeling tired with 19 miles to go is not good.

Mile 8: 11:46 — Trying to pick up the pace a little, still feeling queasy.

Mile 9: 12:19 – An uphill here. We were heading into Fair Oaks at about this time. It was a cute little area that turned into more up and downhills. People kept saying “Don’t worry, it’s all downhill.” No. I knew there was a difference between “downhill” and “net downhill.” California International Marathon was a “net downhill” race.

Mile 10: 11:28 — The quad burning continues. This was about the point I noticed the 4:55 marathon group was passing me. I decided I, perhaps, needed to slow down. Why? I was thinking I’d finish this around 5:30 in time at some point. I knew, only at that point, I’d gone out to past and not consistent enough.

Mile 11: 13:06 — I hit my half marathon wall here. This is usually when I pick it up, but I was feeling a little tired again. I was slowing. I did another Gu, despite the fact that I was feeling queasy after the first one.

Mile 12: 12:07 — Speeding up a little. There were a lot of people cheering me along here. I started to get motivated more.

Mile 13: 12:45

HALF MARATHON: 2:31:53 (This would be my third best half marathon ever if I was running a half marathon.)

Mile 14: 12:58 — At this point I hit my real metaphorical wall. I can’t describe it outside of panic and insecurity. My feet started to hurt. I slowed a little again. But I kept pushing. I was trying to not get below the 13:45 average that would mean I didn’t finish in six hours. I was really worried about that time limit.

Mile 15: 14:23 — It didn’t help that I decided at this point that I needed to go to the bathroom. I only did so because there were six portable toilets lined up and only four people standing in line. In between the water stop and another Gu, the pack of people I was running with passed me.

Mile 16: 11:18 — I had to pick it up again.

Mile 17: 11:40 — Still moving.

Mile 18: 11:53 — My last good mile. I say that will a lot of pride, but there’s a reason why that was the last good mile. My IT band, which had plagued me greatly when I moved from 5Ks to 10Ks. All of the sudden I was feeling it.

Mile 19: 13:09 — I slowed and walked to try to get back the leg a little. I spent the next few miles using that method. Run, walk, run. When I ran, I was averaging 11-12 minute miles.

Mile 20: 12:52 — “The wall” literally. We ran through an area that was marked by a fake wall. I looked happy, but the smile was masking my pain.

Mile 21: 12:54 — I thought of this mile as a plane descending into the destination point. This was the point where we buckle our safety belts and put the tray table  in an upright position. This was also the point my feet started killing me. My IT band wasn’t behaving either.

Mile 22: 13:47 — Run/walk continues.

Mile 23: 13:20 — And more.

Mile 24: 13:07 — This was actually a very frustrating time for me. People were cheering me on from the sidelines. One guy kept yelling “if it was easy, everyone would do it!” I liked that. But it wasn’t enough to pull me out of my funk.

Mile 25: 13:18 — Still moving, but getting more excited. Someone asked me when I knew I’d finish. I didn’t for a long time. When the IT band started throbbing and I knew my feet were blistering, I didn’t think I’d make it. I had four moments where I wanted to stop, cry and call Thomas to come get me. “I don’t need to finish this,” I thought. “I have nothing to prove. I knew, as I started to make my way toward the 26-mile sign, that I’d make it. It took me that long.

Mile 26: 12:46 — And then I really knew. Thomas ran across my path. I felt a huge smile stretching across my face. I had made it.

Mile .2: 3:35 — Here I pushed. I saw the clock reading 5:22:13. I could make it before the clock turned to 5:23, I thought. I picked it up.

Gun time: 5:22:39.

Chip time: 5:20:41

I wish it was like Ironman and someone said “Tara, you ARE a marathoner.” No one did. I was handed my medal and my space blanket, which I really needed at that point if just because I wanted some comfort. I saw Thomas, kissed him and handed him my water bottle (it always gets in my way at the end even though I love it).

Then I teared up a little. I had a moment. I had done it. Less than two years after I set out on my treadmill and started running. I had run a marathon.

I was surprised at how good I felt. My feet hurt, yes. My leg was killing me. And my shins were throbbing. But I felt good.

So good I even opted to get my photo taken at the end. I NEVER do this. I always say “it’s a waste of money.” But I felt compelled to do so. You only run your first marathon once.

I found Thomas and immediately walked over to the merchandise booth and he bought me an awesome shirt that said “26.2 finisher.” I can’t wait to wear it when I run. (I haven’t done any running this week to give my legs a well-deserved rest. I’ve also been eating a ton of food,which I feel bad about, but I also deserve it.)

I didn’t find any of the requisite food that I was told was popular. The food vans were closing down as well. (That was really discouraging, especially when I finished with 40 minutes left for the finish line to be open AND it actually stayed open longer.)

We opted to head to Red Lobster on Howe Avenue after we found the car.

And then we headed home.

I was exhaustion and in pain for about two days. Not a bad pain. A good pain.

And, four days later, I’m still in awe that I did it. I ran a marathon.

Every insecurity that I’ve ever had about my work as a journalist, as an editor, as a instructor and as a person diminished during those 26.2 miles. They say it changes you. I think it makes a person stronger. You have to get mentally past barriers. You have to keep going when you want to quit. And you have to believe you can do it when you’re body is failing under you.

I ran a marathon. And for it, and all those things mentioned before, I’m 100-times better for it then I was the day before.

Dec 7

Mind over marathon: Part II

Another warning: This post may now be more than two parts. I think the whole “race” will be its on separate post.

My alarm for race morning was set for 5 a.m. I woke up at 4:55 a.m.

The lights outside were bright. It wasn’t daylight. Not even close. But the La Quinta in Rancho Cordova was in a well-lit area. So the lights shined through the window. I kind of hopped out of bed. I don’t know why.

Part of me was excited. Part of me was still worried.

These are the moments were the doubt really gets you.

“I’m not ready,” I thought. No way.

“I can’t do this,” was another.

I put my clothes on, somewhat methodically. I woke Thomas up, though he dwelled in the bed for about 30 minutes before really getting out of bed. I looked outside and it didn’t look cold. I knew, though, that would be deceiving. It was near freezing.

I had asked Thomas to get me a banana the night before. And a blue Gatorade. I don’t know what flavor blue is, I think it’s Glacier Freeze or something, but I like it. Thomas forgot the banana. I had a Peppermint Luna bar in my gym bag, though. My stomach was turning knots, but I knew after my Big Sur Half Marathon no-food beforehand debacle that I had to eat.

I tweeted my nervousness at close to 6 a.m.

Jennie sent me a text message saying she was ready. I told her to come on down to the room. She was there for a good 10 minutes before we packed up and left.

The moment we stepped out the door, it was cold. It wasn’t windy, despite the fact it had been for days. I felt the sting of the cold on the few parts of my skin that were exposed. I was wearing my Zensah compression sleeves with my capris. I had my new gloves on too.

The drive wasn’t that long. Not even a week later and I don’t remember much of it. Thomas made quick work of it, though. I’ve learned one thing about my husband in the past year of racing: He’s very good at getting me to the start and showing up at the finish.

But he didn’t get us close, exactly. We saw people walking toward what we thought was a start area.

Turns out it wasn’t.

It was the place where the buses from Sacramento were dropping people off. Another set of school buses were taking people up to the actual start line.

Suddenly Jennie and I were in a line.

“Where are we going,” I asked.

“TO THE START,” responded an overly enthusiastic volunteer.

And we were put on a bus. Jennie and I both had “we didn’t pay for this bus” moments. “I think we just hijacked a bus ride,” I said to her.

No matter. The bus was warm. At least for the 5 minutes or so it took us to get to the start.

There were two huge arches to mark the start. It looked a little something like this:

The photo above is from the California International Marathon website. I’m not trying to steal it or anything, but I didn’t do a lot of shooting photos in the morning. I knew it would come back and haunt me later.

The start line was actually very nice. I was way in the back. Further behind me was a gigantic line of portable toilets.

The California International Marathon Facebook page include a photo of  it earlier in the week. This is that photo, cropped:

OK, enough stealing photos. That’s what it looked like. Jennie and I got in a line. It wasn’t too far back, but not close up either.

It was about 6:32 a.m. We literally waited in line until the 7 a.m. start.

In fact, there wasn’t much standing around at all. The start was quick. All the literature says the start line closes exactly five-minutes after the gun goes off.

I started my Garmin fairly quickly. I only had 10 seconds of time off between my chip time and the Garmin at the end.

I started near the back. I worked my way forward. And I took off.

The first part of the course is downhill. I got into a nice stride. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving.

And, as everyone had predicted, my nervousness all started to fall away.

Little did I know, this run would test my mind and body in ways I’d never been tested before.

Dec 6

Mind over marathon: Part I

This is a fair warning: This post is going to be long and over two parts. I may ramble in parts, but I’ll try to keep it together. Two days after crossing the finish line for the California International Marathon, I’m still in a little disbelief that I did it. But I did.

My time wasn’t spectacular. It was 5:20:41. But I’ll own every minute of it.

I’m now a marathoner. I can’t believe it. I don’t feel changed at all. But I know this means the beginning of something new.

But I digress.

Our journey to Sacramento started at the Sacramento Convention Center. That’s where the expo for the 29th Annual California International Marathon was being staged. My husband and I seemed to walk in at a busy time. The number/chip lines were packed in some areas. My “C” wasn’t bad. We got my number in about 5 minutes. I was also picking up my running buddy Jennie’s chip. It was her first marathon too.

The line for Jennie’s last name was much longer. And the volunteers seemed a little flustered by people coming up without their numbers. I knew mine. I knew Jennie’s. I had printed both out. So it was a breeze. The volunteer actually thanked me for having the number and not making him search by name.

I was surprised I didn’t have to do much else outside ask for Jennie’s number. I didn’t show identification. No one asked me to confirm I was me.

Even in the “chip check” area when my husband scanned Jennie’s chip, no one said anything. It was odd. to say the least.

We were sent over to the shirt table. I believe we had the choice between short/long sleeve shirts if we registered before a certain time. I opted for the long-sleeve one because I enjoy my race long sleeve shirts. It has a bear jumping out of the California flag and into the race. It’s a light blue color. And, unfortunately, I’ve already snagged it twice. That sucks because I love it! I think that might just be first marathon high still.

We walked around the expo for about 45 minutes. I scored a new pair of Zensah compression socks in purple for $32. I also got a California International Marathon shirt.

I also grabbed a pair of gloves at the expo. The temperature at the start was expected to be around 37 degrees. Cold. Very cold. And I’ve never had running gloves before. They were reasonable at $18, though on second thought I should have probably bought the size medium instead of large. But my thumb injury (which I’ll blog about at some point here) made it where I have a nearly impossible time getting gloves on and off. So I opted for the larger ones.

We spent about 15 minutes looking for where to buy posters too. It was at the same booth where people could buy $20 bus tickets. Thomas was dropping us off at the start, so we didn’t need to worry (though we ended up finding ourselves on a bus anyway, more on that in the next post).

I found the poster for this year, and another with the route. I bought both.

I can’t tell you how nervous I was at this point. This was happening. No more training runs to prepare. It was happening in less than 24 hours. I was a little freaked out. OK. More than a little.

I was having panic moments. Everywhere I turned I was reminded that the word “marathon” did not have “half” in front of it. Nope. This was the full 26.2.

Yikes. OMG. Yikes. Breathe. Yikes.

There was a lot of that happening over and over again.

Do I look nervous? I really am. I was trying to stay calm. Thomas is used to my neurotic tendencies, but I think I was on a bit of overload with this one.

I was glad then, when he suggested we go for dinner earlier rather than later. Why? I figured my stomach wouldn’t be turning as many knots if I ate early. I didn’t want to chance it.

So we headed over to Old Sacramento. Our hotel reservation was in Rancho Cordova (halfway between Folsom, where the race started and Sacramento, where it ended).

I wanted pasta. But we haven’t been to Old Sacramento in years, so we didn’t know where would be a good place to go. We walked by some pub-style places, but I didn’t want “bar food.” We found a restaurant called Ten22.

Thomas ordered the steak special. I had the chicken with pureed butternut squash and vegetables. It was amazing.

Thomas also had wine. I just had a couple Diet Cokes. I was still feeling the butterflies in my stomach when we left. Thomas wanted to walk around the waterfront for a couple minutes. It was chilly, but beautiful in Sacramento.

I’m counting myself lucky that I’ve had two overnight-type adventures lately. The trip to Monterey with my mom was a nice getaway. And this one-night away with Thomas, despite having to wake up really early, was also nice. It’s just nice to get away, even if I’m running 26.2 miles.

Thomas snapped a photo of be with the newly painted Tower Bridge in the background.

It was getting really busy in Old Sacramento. The holiday lights were beautiful, but Thomas and I were also a little tired. I’d slept in Saturday morning to prepare for what I knew would be a long night before the marathon.

We hopped in the car and headed up Highway 50 for the short drive to Rancho Cordova. Our La Quinta was nice. We stayed on the fifth floor where I saw a bunch of other marathoners.

We kind of relaxed the rest of the night, waiting for Jennie and her husband to come and get her number. Then we checked out the spa for about 30-minutes. Overall, I was just trying to calm my nerves.

When I got back to the hotel room, I laid out my clothes for the day. I had a Nike Thermal long sleeve, black Nike running capris, NikeID “I run to be powerful” shirt, Equalons, iFitness belt, timing chip on shoe, race bib, gloves, Garmin, RoadID and all my Vanilla Bean Gu was there.

I was just trying to take it all in. I wanted to take it in. But I also knew I had to make some significant strides early on in the race if I wanted to make the six-hour time cutoff. I didn’t want to go out and not be able to finish.

I tucked in with my own blanket (a tip from another runner’s blog who said it would help me sleep better and it did) and went to sleep around 10:30 p.m. Thomas went downstairs to the lobby to watch television. He came back in at around midnight.

And I slept pretty good, until about 4:55 a.m. on Dec. 4.

Race day.

More important, my first marathon.

 

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