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Posts tagged ‘26.2’

Dec 6

Battling the elements at California International Marathon: Part II

I had planned to do the rest of this race recap yesterday, but in the past 24 hours have started feeling significantly more under the weather than I have been lately. I’m blaming the deluge from the race.

It started, as colds do, with a little itch. It’s now a sore throat and general soreness.

But I was feeling really good on Saturday. I fell asleep at 9:30 p.m. and, unlike my last marathon, actually slept really well during the night.

I woke up and immediately got to work “lubing” up, for lack of a better term.

Glide under my sports bra. Aquaphor between my toes, along my arms, etc. Anti-chafe anywhere I could put it. My greatest fear was that I would be running and suddenly realize I was chafing somewhere thanks to the rain.

That definitely should have been a fear, except not in the spots I thought.

My husband and I got out of our hotel, near downtown, at about 5:30 a.m. It took us about 20 minutes to get up to Folsom, two miles from the start line.

It was then that the rain was really coming down.

Someone posted the image above to Facebook, showing what we ran through that day. In the morning, when I got to the busing area for the marathon start, it was already pouring. The wind was howling. A local transit line had crews all along the street because a tree fell on the lines. That wouldn’t get fixed for another day or so.

I ran across the street toward a line of school buses. There was no escaping it at this point. It was pouring down rain. It was crazy. The wind was blowing so much that it was hitting me horizontally. I threw on the $1.47 poncho.

It kept me dry for about two minutes. That’s right. My legs were wet by the time my five-minute wait for the bus was over.

Speaking of the bus … it was warm. But our bus driver took us a very different way than last year. We ended up behind the start instead of in front of it. There were a couple questions on the bus whether she knew where she was going, but we ended up right where we needed to be.

I quickly ran over to the long line of portable toilets.

There was hardly any lines, but people were also sticking around in the stalls rather than getting out. Seriously. I waited five minutes and no doors opened in front of me where there were seven or eight toilets.

Come on people. When one, further down, finally opened, I jetted to it. I didn’t care at that moment whether or not someone else was in line. (Sorry folks, put waiting in a portable toilet line in the pouring rain is not cool. Wow. Thanks for being considerate folks.)

I huddled under a gas station cover until about 6:58 a.m. along with everyone else.

At 7 a.m., the race began.

And it was downhill, crazy fun for the first couple miles.

Mile 1: 10:36 — Nice start, my legs didn’t feel cold at all. I was still mostly dry.

Mile 2: 10:34

Mile 3: 10:50

Somewhere around this time, my Garmin turned itself off. I got to the three-mile sign and realized the Garmin hadn’t beeped. Instead it was stuck at 2.67. When did that happen?

And how was I supposed to get it back on track.

Crap. Less than three miles in. I turned it back on and kept going.

Mile 4: 10:52 — Still feeling good.

Mile 5: 11:11 — It’s pouring down rain. But I’m going fairly consistent. I’m actually enjoying the run here. About this time I get to the relay switch, which always brings a good amount of people. (Remember, Garmin was off the entire time, so the real exchange is somewhere at 5.9 or so.)

Mile 6: 6:30 — This isn’t right. I only ran .53 miles here to get my Garmin back on track with the signs.

Mile 7: 11:21

Mile 8: 11:58

Mile 9: 11:54 — I felt as if I was being fairly consistent here with pacing. But it appears to be a little more off than I thought here.

Mile 10: 11:41

Mile 11: 12:12

Mile 12: 11:50

Mile 13: 11:47 — My half time was somewhere close to 2:30. I was excited to be coming in pretty strong in this area. I wasn’t tired, yet, but that would come soon enough.

Mile 14: 12:25 — And here’s where the fatigue actually set in. It came so quickly. The rain was still coming down. I was running through puddles, but also skipping here and there. It was killing my feet. Killing. It hurt so bad.

Mile 15: 13:30 — Slowing down. Lame. But the rain is letting up. Good sign, right?

Mile 16: 12:38 — Gu to pick it back up. Trying to get back into this. Trying.

This is the point where the rain was letting up. I realized then that I was drenched. I mean I was wet in places where I really didn’t want to be. Seriously. My underwear? Yes. My sports bra. Yes.

And I still had the poncho on.

The water had absorbed through my clothes and the poncho was basically useless at this point. So I took it off and threw it to the side near the end of this mile.

This is about right after I ditched the poncho. When I realized my long-sleeve shirt was also wet, I just took it off. It was a warmish 60-degrees, so I felt as if I could finish in my tank top.

I was starting to get ridiculously tired now.

The wind and water had taken nearly everything out of me.

Mile 17: 12:30 — One foot in front of the other.

Mile 18: 13:16

Mile 19: 13:59

Mile 20: 13:02 — The “wall” party wasn’t as exciting as it could be. I’m sure it had everything to do with the weather. There were hardly any people out there. I realized, however, that we didn’t even have the start arches at the beginning because of the rain.

Mile 21: 13:28 — This is when I looked down and realized something was very wrong with my right foot. It was rubbing really bad against the back of the shoe, which is something that it has never done before.

Mile 22: 14:21 — I briefly stopped at an aid station to grab a Band-Aid. Except it wouldn’t stick. My feet were too waterlogged. Both were completely saturated.

Mile 23: 13:59 — I had to keep going. My foot was killing me. My IT band was hurting too now.

Mile 24: 14:37

Mile 25: 12:29 — Just need to keep going. By now, the feet were really killing me. I’m nearing the end here, and I look as tired as I am.

Mile 26: 13:05 — Notice the overcast sky? It didn’t seem that dark, but it was.

Mile .31: 3.27

Chip time: 5:24:52

I added four minutes onto my time from last year. I was actually aiming at coming in around 5:15 this time, but the weather and the wet feet kind of killed that for me.

I crossed the finish line and was handed by epic medal and I wandered, now in pain and wanting to take my shoes off, through the end corral.

It seemed as if there were more people around this year when I finished, probably again because of the rain. I took a heat sheet and a bottle of water, though I’d been hydrating well along the course too, and walked out.

My husband wasn’t yet at the finish line. Apparently he didn’t have as high hopes for me as I did. He figured I’d be done around 5:30.

I did shave more than 10 minutes off time from San Diego, but that’s not even comparable.

I’m upset that I was doing so well and, yet, it all kind of fell apart after the fact. But I was pretty damaged. My feet hurt. My face had wind burn. And heels were torn apart.

Yes. I put up a photo of one of my feet. Both were completely pruned up. Little blisters everywhere. (That blood blister was there beforehand. It wasn’t caused by the race, but the blister on top of it was. I didn’t even know that was possible.)

And when I got home, I realized that only Duct Tape could have saved that heel that Band-Aids wouldn’t stick too.

The back of my running shoes and my socks were bloody. It was a wet, bloody mess.

I’m thankful that I was able to get most of it out. It now just looks like a faint pink stain. Sorry to put up the gross stuff, but I’ve never had that happen in a race before. In San Diego my shoes torn up my feet completely. My Nikes were fine for the first 15 miles or so before this started.

In fact, I don’t think this happened until it started to get dry outside. The water was apparently lubricating my feet, along with the Aquaphor and Glide. Then it ran out.

Would it have been better if I had applied for Glide instead of trying a Band-Aid? I think by the time I realized it was happening the damage was already done.

I should be upset by this race. I should be mad that I didn’t make goal.

But I’m not.

I ran a good race. The things that came up were unexpected. I was exhausted by mile 15. After battling the rain, I just had little to nothing in me. My foot was killing me the last six miles. And I ran, in the rain, for nearly the entire thing.

And I finished.

That’s a lot more pain on my face than I was expecting. I heard some people say at the expo that they weren’t even going to run the race because of the weather. I know more probably woke up and decided against it that morning.

I never doubted I’d be out at the start. I never doubted that at some point I’d get to the end.

I battled through this thing. And I won the battle.

A year ago, I probably wouldn’t have thought about waking up and running a whole 26.2 in the mostly pouring rain. Critics say you shouldn’t run a marathon your first year as a runner. I believe that now, even though I did it last year.

This year, I realized that the marathon isn’t just about running all those miles. It’s about realization. It’s about finding something deep within yourself to pull you through. This year, I had that in me from the start line. Last year, I doubted myself until mile 25. Only then I knew I could do it.

I know I can do it now, even in the pouring rain. I just want to get better, and maybe achieve that 5:15 goal soon. Then, maybe, work on getting my time to under five hours.

But I’m not disappointed in this race. Not at all.

In fact, it was even a little bit fun. Or at least it was before my feet started getting torn up.

Dec 4

Battling the elements at California International Marathon: Part I

I’ll be honest, I’m not even sure where to begin this race report. In many ways, California International Marathon should have been a better run for me. It should have been the race where I recorded a new personal record, after months of solid training runs. It should have been where I finally felt as if I was ready to run 26.2 without problems.

Unfortunately, the weather had other ideas.

ying it wasn’t fun. Not at all.

But the elements took everything I had out of m

For the first 18 miles of the run, it was pouring rain. There were wind gusts up to 40-miles per hour. At one point, I swear the rain was coming at me horizontally. I’m not sae. And it sucked.

Let me rewind, though, to the day before. My husband and I left for Sacramento when the sky was overcast in Tracy. It was actually present until we reach the county line.

Then we saw ominous foreboding of what was to come.

And we knew that was only the beginning of what was coming. Forecasters projected up to an inch of rain during the morning hours on Sunday. It was to start raining the night before.

It was going to the rain. No matter what. No doubt about it.

The forecast couldn’t get much worse than that, right? Then it did. Suddenly the wind speeds were projected to be higher. Add to that a possibility of thunder storms and it’s every runners dream to tackle a marathon in.

Or not.

We made it to Sacramento around 3 p.m. and made our way to the expo. It was already pouring down rain then. Plus, the streets were flooded in most directions. To get to the convention center, we literally had to jump over puddles that were more than six inches deep.

Needless to say, my shoes got wet.

My jeans were also wet up to my knees. The expo was, just like last year, quick to navigate. I picked up my packet and Jennie’s, again without needing an identification, and we wandered around for a couple minutes. I picked up a $5 poster commemorating the 30th anniversary of the event in addition to the race swag.

Let’s talk about the swag for a minute folks.

The marathon runners were given some extra prizes this year in addition to a nice green long-sleeve shirt.

Each runner received a reusable bag, a nice one not one of those cheap ones the Rock ‘n’ Roll series gives out, a pair of gloves and a neck gaiter with custom CIM logos.

The items were pretty nice.

I’m especially excited about the neck gaiter. It can be used as a headband, or a neck wrap or a cap. Lots of uses, definitely an awesome addition to the swag bag.

Now I know it was raining and people tend to be cranky when it rains, but the complaints from the relay teams about not getting the extra swag was ridiculous. A guy in the line behind my husband and I was getting angry with the volunteers. Angry. With volunteers. Really?

“When we registered it didn’t say anything about NOT getting this stuff,” he complained.

The timid teenager who was opening up the swag bags just kept telling him that the items were for “marathoners only.” The guy kept getting more and more upset.

Wow. Calm yourself dude. Seriously. Sure, the website didn’t say anything about relay runners not receiving the goods, but at the same time it’s not the volunteers who made the decision. Don’t yell at them. OK. Rant over.

We didn’t stay at the expo too long if only because I was wet and tired. Instead, we headed to our Sacramento hotel. It wasn’t one of the shuttle hotels, but my husband would be driving me to the start.

After check in, we decided to head downtown, as we kept checking the weather reports, for dinner. The problem is we didn’t have reservations so our first attempt at a pasta dinner was thwarted.

We ended up getting a nice pasta, chicken mix at the 4th Street Grille, where other marathoners were also eating. Our waiter was awesome, despite teasing about the weather for the next day. I know, I told him. It will be bad.

Just then, it really started raining.

The storm system had come in. It was bad. Awful. Buckets upon buckets of rain.

Not really buckets, but it was pretty bad.

We watched the rain out the window as the television showed a storm tracking into the area that would likely deliver the brunt of the storm at the beginning of the race. So. I’ve never run a race in the rain before. Never. There have been times where the rain threatened a race, but in the end it only rained for a couple minutes or not at all.

I was going into this blind. With a rain poncho. And lots of Body Glide.

I kept telling myself I would be fine, just fine. The poncho would keep me dry. Right? The Glide would make sure I didn’t get blisters anywhere. Yes? I had no idea what I was in for the next day. Not at all.

See all my anti-chafe stuff? Little did I know it wouldn’t be enough when my feet were soaking in my shoes for more than three hours. It was going to be a wet and wild run, that’s for sure.

Nov 30

About that rain forecast for CIM

So rain is still on the forecast for Sunday’s California International Marathon. And it’s what everyone is talking about on Facebook on the race’s page. A lot of people have even asked if the race would be canceled due to the inclement weather.

That doesn’t surprise me, in light of the cancellation of the New York Marathon after Superstorm Sandy hit the east coast.

Except this is California.

And it’s rarely THAT BAD here.

In fact, one of the last times we experienced epic flooding in the Sacramento area was 1996. That’s when levees were breached. That’s when whole areas of homes were flooded, including some in areas down by my hometown of Stockton.

But it is never really that bad here. Sure, flooding is projected. But we sometimes define “flooding” as streets getting six inches of water. All the news stations today showed “flooding” just like that.

In any case, I’ve taken a couple days to prepare a plan.

A plan? If it’s not that serious, why would I have a plan?

I’m trying not to start the race completely drenched. I know that will be a fruitless effort once I get going, but I’m going to try to keep dry for a least a minute or two.

First off, the weather is projected to be about 60 degrees.

That’s not cold.

UPPER: So I’m actually planning on wearing a Lululemon Run:Swifty tank as my main race shirt. I’ll wear a long sleeve over it, but not something too heavy. I don’t want to wear something bulky, but I want to be warm. I’ll likely take a Nike wool pullover I have. The wool will keep me warm in the morning, but it’s light enough that I can tie it around my waist during the race. I’m not worried about it getting wet. I’ve run in the rain with it before.

I may, though, opt for just a regular Nike pullover. I’ll take a variety of clothes, just in case.

LOWER: I’m planning on wearing Lululemon Run: Bright at Night capris. I was considering pants, but because it won’t be too cold, I’d rather not have wet ankles. The capris will mean my ankles get wet, but with the wind (it’s supposed to be strong), I’m hoping I’ll also dry off a little too.

VISOR: I’ll wear my Asics visor to keep the rain out of my eyes. I’m opting to not wear a hat, if only because it will just get wet and my hair will get wet. I can handle running with wet hair, so why not just start out that way?

CONTACTS: I rarely, if ever, wear my contacts. I’m more annoyed with them than not most the time. And I’ve just become incredibly comfortable with glasses since I started wearing them in 2004. But my contacts come out every once in awhile, mostly for special occasions. Last year I ran with contacts for CIM. I’m doing it this year mainly because I’d rather not have rain all over my glasses.

SHOES AND SOCKS: I’m applying the fabric protector above to my shoes and socks. It may not work. That’s fine. My hope is that I can get through at least some of the race with dry feet. If it’s the downpour it’s expected to be, I’ll be all wet at the end. I’m hoping that a comfortable pair of socks will mean I don’t have blisters.

TOES: I’m still having issues with my baby toes curling under the toe next to them. I’ve gone through three pairs of shoes and this is still a problem. I actually bought toe spacers because if I end up with blisters, it will be in this area. I used similar toe spacers for the Clarksburg Country Run a couple weeks ago.

These ones are thicker, but I have a blood blister on one of my toes I don’t want to aggravate.

CHAFING: I’m going to use Body Glide everywhere. I’m also taking a small container of it, purchased at an expo a while back, to carry in my capri pocket just in case I chafe along the way. I know there will be Vasoline along the course as well.

BEFORE RACE: And I bought a poncho. I grabbed one for Jennie too. I’m not planning on running the entire race with this, but I likely will run a couple miles if it’s really bad. Or I may just throw it to the side once the race starts. I’m hoping it keeps me dry before the race though, when we’re all standing waiting for the gun to fire.

I know that I am going to be a mess at the end of this. That’s inevitable. But I’m hoping taking some precautions beforehand, and at least planning, will set me on the right path on a rainy day.

I’ve never run a half marathon in rain let alone a marathon, so we’ll see how it goes. I’m trying not to be worried about beating last year’s time. If it happens, it happens.

A lot of people are saying they are just hoping to finish this year. I’m trying not to be too pessimistic about my chances, but I think it’s going to be a “wait and see” thing for me.

But I’m ready. Even with the 100 percent chance of rain.

 

Nov 2

Cancellation of NYC Marathon brings mixed reactions

In case you’ve been under a rock over the past week, a lot has happened in New York City and along the East Coast. This not so little weather system called Hurricane Sandy (yes, my sarcasm is coming back, a little), hit the area and left widespread devastation.

Most of Lower Manhattan was flooded. Power was out everywhere. And the surrounding boroughs were just as bad. That was just that area too. In the running community the big news every early November is the New York City Marathon. It was scheduled to be run on Sunday, Nov. 4.

Today, it was canceled for 2012.

An official announcement was posted to the marathon’s Facebook page only a couple hours ago:

The City of New York and New York Road Runners announce that the 2012 ING NYC Marathon has been canceled. While holding the race would not require diverting resources from the recovery effort, it is clear that it has become the source of disagreement and division. We cannot allow a controversy over an athletic event — even one as meaningful as this — to distract attention from all the critically important work that is being done to help New York City recover from the storm. New York Road Runners will have additional information in the days ahead and we thank you for your dedication to the spirit of this race. We encourage runners who have already arrived in New York City to help with volunteer relief efforts.

To say there are a lot of bummed runners would be an understatement. But there are also a lot of pissed off (for lack of a better term) people who thought the marathon should have been canceled days ago, when the storm first hit, when Manhattan was flooded, when Staten Island (where the race starts on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge) was asking, but not getting help and when people were still surveying the damage.

Let’s get this out of the way: I agree with the decision.

But, I also didn’t make the lottery this year. With what’s happened to me recently, I doubt I would have made the trek this week anyway. Still, as someone who has trained for a marathon and lined up knowing the nerves that come at the start, I can’t help but be a little disappointed for the runners who will not be making the 26.2-mile journey through the city’s five boroughs.

The reactions online, in countless articles and Facebook specifically, are very mixed.

Some are glad the run was cancelled.

Some are upset they won’t be running.

Others are urging people who are already in town to volunteer to help victims of Sandy.

In any case, people aren’t being quiet when it comes to how they feel.

The question is: How should people feel?

To train for something that long and not be able to run? To have spent a lot of money on a hotel room and flight and not be able to participate?

I’m tempted to say get over it.

But I also understand how sad it is to not be able to take on a goal.

I think, though, that race is about showcasing the beauty of New York City. In recent days, Mayor Michael Bloomberg and race officials said, instead, it would showcase New York’s resilience. I didn’t buy that.

And yesterday, when Katie at Runs for Cookies wrote about the cancellation of the Saturday 5K event. I figured the marathon would be next. I didn’t think it would take this long, though. I figured it would have been before people started getting into town.

How can you showcase the city when people are without power? Or water? How can you showcase a city when so many need help?

Yes, I’m glad the race was cancelled.

Not because I didn’t get in. But because I think the natural thing to do was cancel it. But for all those who were scheduled to run, letting go of that dream, I’m sure, isn’t easy.

I’ve DNSed several races, specifically when my body was too tired to do anything except sleep, but the races were small. I didn’t have a lot invested into them outside of fees (which for both was in the $40 range).

I feel for race organizers, who can’t please everyone with a decision like this. At the same time, I think the best thing for everyone would be to move on, find a new race if possible, and just be thankful. After all, some people on the East Coast no longer have anything.

Nov 1

Looking past the present

Like my awesome PhotoShop skills? I actually am really good at it, but this is just the simple smudge tool over my emergency room band. I’ll give away that much. I recently had a trip to the ER. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t planned (hence, an emergency).

People usually say they are “working through stuff.” Yep. I’m working through stuff.

And that’s where I’ll leave that.

I’m trying to look past the present right now.

To the future. Or at least to my running future.

I’ve been doing some planning over the past couple days on races I’d like to run next year. I’ve been putting together a short list so far. Only a couple are solid in terms of choices right now. Financials will play a role, obviously. And, surprise, I’m actually considering running a spring “A” marathon and a summer marathon.

I’ve run enough races to know where I like to travel and what I love to see when I run. I also know which ones I’d like to do again, but maybe not in 2013.

So, today, I started planning.

JANUARY

Brazen Coyote Hills 10K: I love this race. The rolling hills. The beautiful view. It’s got a lot to offer. Plus, it’s Brazen. And I love Brazen. This race is kind of difficult logistically for Brazen, with shuttles needed to send people back and forth, but Brazen does an awesome job making it happen.

FEBRUARY

Rock ‘n’ Roll Pasadena Half Marathon: This wasn’t my favorite race ever, but I want to give it another go. I now know what to expect, including the hill right at the beginning. My hope is that I won’t be a straggler at the end this time. I signed up for it today, before the price went up.

MARCH

Brazen Badger Cove 10K: Brazen hosted this combination half marathon, 10K and 5K for the first time in my neck of the woods this year. It’s literally only over the hill from where I live. It’s also a week before the Oakland Half, which makes it a perfect warm-up and taper run. The hills are crazy, but I felt great after. Definitely a must-do again.

Oakland Half Marathon: This will always be a favorite for me. Oakland holds a special place in my heart because I spent my two years as a student at University of California, Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism living in the Temescal neighborhood. I love it there. I’ll always love Oakland. And I usually sign up for a steal (half price!) with a coupon code from the San Francisco Marathon. A side note: Oakland is still one of the ONLY events you can defer entry to the next year if need be.

APRIL

San Luis Obispo Marathon: Here’s where I really switch things up. This race is a little more than a week after Oakland. I don’t know how I found out about it, but I’m hoping to run 26.2 here. A bonus? My husband has family in the area, which means he wants to go too. And there are rolling hills…so I’ll have to work the only hill I know in Mountain House, and maybe some others.

MAY

Bay to Breakers 12K: This is less of a race, more of a fun run. Unless you are my brother and smash it in under an hour wearings short-shorts and looking like the kid who knocked up Juno. There’s been some changes to the 2013 website, so I’m not even sure when this is happening. I’ll probably ask my brother to run with me again. And I likely won’t do “premium” or “plus” registration because, despite being sponsored by a T-shirt company, this race has some of the ugliest shirts I’ve ever seen.

JUNE

The San Francisco Marathon: Let’s have an “oh my God” moment. I’ve said, numerous times, that I would NEVER do a marathon in San Francisco. I’m actually really considering this because it would put me in the elite “52 Club.” Who runs for bling? That would be me. Actually, it’s just a sweater. But now I know the beginning and end of the marathon path, I’m kind of excited to try it. Will I sign up? We’ll see. This wouldn’t be an “A” race, but it would be one I’d train seriously for.

And that’s it, for now.

I figured I’d wait on planning the rest of the year. Will I run CIM again? I don’t know. Will I sign up for the Nike lottery? Likely. I’m also considering the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Jose Half again. We’ll see. Since I’m only signed up for two of the seven races I have planned, nothing is really set in stone yet.

But I’d rather plan ahead right now than deal with some other stuff.

Speaking of which, I probably mentioned having to return two pairs of pants to Lululemon due to bad design. I got two great gift cards in return.

A couple days ago, I got a new package.

I opted for two new shirts in lieu of the capris. I show this mainly because Lululemon changed it’s packing. It’s no longer an simple gray mailer. Instead, it’s covered in the company’s manifesto. As much as I love it, and it gave me a smile for the moment, I’m a little disappointed that my Lulu packages won’t be anonymous anymore.

Good thing my the people in my neighborhood don’t seem to be the running type. Otherwise I’d worry about the packages disappearing.

Jul 22

A second chance, a second try, another marathon

I hate it when bloggers make signing up for races a big deal. There’s a bit of the “I-just-signed-up-for-a-race-and-have-to-make-a-big-deal-out-of-it” moments when you come to a blog and the title of the post is “an announcement.”

So this is not an announcement. Not even close. It’s a mere statement of fact.

I signed up to run the California International Marathon on Dec. 2.

A second year of it. The 30th anniversary. Another marathon to try to bring down my time. I failed miserably in San Diego, despite months and months of extra training.

I “accidentally” ran a marathon at the Brazen six-hour endurance run in early July. But it wasn’t based on time and with the heat, I struggled at the end.

CIM presents a perfect opportunity to run a net-downhill course and revisit the route that, let’s face it, I don’t remember much of after mile 18. I’m hoping to remember it all this year. I’m also hoping to run better, both in how I feel and in how fast I run. So I signed up. I’m excited, but also nervous. I’m lining up races until then, especially since I’ll be training for the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Jose Half Marathon and the Nike Women’s Half, both in October.

I also, because I’m crazy, signed up for a half marathon the weekend after the San Francisco 1st Half Marathon. The Brazen Summer Breeze race is “flat and fast.” And I did it because I’m taking the week off of work. What a better way to take a vacation, right?

I didn’t think this year would be full of races, but life, and some other stuff has kind of changed things for me. So I’m looking forward to running hard and long into the next couple months. I’m looking forward to getting to the start, and finish, lines at CIM in December too.

And so the training begins…

 

Jul 9

Going long at the Brazen Dirty (Half) Dozen

I want to say I didn’t set out to run a marathon during the Brazen Dirty (Half) Dozen six-hour endurance run. But I knew it was a possibility. I knew I could run a marathon in six hours. I had before, even though my last experience in San Diego wasn’t pretty. I also knew I’d never attempted such a distance on trails, which in many cases tend to increase my time thanks to not-so-secure footing and rolling hills.

But I was confident in my ability for this one.

I’ve had some really good runs lately. Those were mostly on flatter ground or on the treadmill, but I felt strong going into the run. My goals were pretty simple. I wanted to attempt eight laps. And I wanted to run the entire time.

I wanted to run the entire time even if it meant slowing down on certain areas and not pushing myself super hard on others. There was one specific hill that I power walked up every time and I was really glad I did by final two passes around.

I’m happy to report that I made both goals basically. I made it eight times around the 3.37-mile course. And I ran 5:52:21. I probably could have made the .7 loop around too once more, but figured I didn’t want to chance it, since they were starting to countdown and I was pretty tired.

My morning started out at 4 a.m. when I woke up to get ready to make the trek to Point Pinole Regional Park. We arrived at about 6:22 a.m.

It was a beautiful, foggy morning.

The bathroom lines were nonexistent. And with two bathroom locations on the course, I didn’t have to worry about ever needing to wait in line. Though two or three bathroom stops during the run added to my time. My brother came too and we tried to get his packet early. No go. They weren’t giving them out for a couple more hours.

Danny went back to the car and fell asleep. Thomas also took a nap. (Important note for later.)

The race got started right on time after some announcements. I should note that there were probably less than 200 people in total racing the six and twelve hour runs. I think there were more for the six than the twelve, definitely.

There’s another photo from the start. We all stared together. By the second loop, we were all pretty spaced out, which was one of the appealing features of this race for me. I wanted to do a race without a lot of pressure. I wanted to be relaxed after the experience in San Diego. This was perfect.

I started out strong. I found my pace pretty quickly and I just kept moving. And moving. And moving.

My splits were all across the board. I ran all over. From 11:22 to just under 16 minutes.

There’s more detail of it here. I don’t think I was inconsistent though. It’s a timed race where individual laps are counted. That includes pit stops, like water bottle refills and stopping to look at results. I also stopped at the aid stations. My average moving time, according to Garmin, was 12:40, which isn’t bad at all, especially since I kept repeating the course. There was a A LOT of course fatigue for me at the end because of that.

My shirt here says “Run Happy.” I kind of feel like that was what I was doing all day.

This was at the top of the last hill on the loop. I ran up it nearly every time. In fact, I was doing pretty good running up nearly every hill. I paced down as I went uphill, with small steps to make it through. I was also incredibly conservative with the downhills, including a fairly steep one on a single track near the point of Point Pinole (also the best view).

I wore my long-sleeve shirt the first three laps. I wanted to take it off sooner, but Thomas was still sleeping. He didn’t show up with a new bottle until I was finishing my fourth lap. And he didn’t bring my back. I was a little upset. It had everything I needed it in, including sunscreen, which would come in handy later.

He kept refilling my bottle, so every two go rounds I would refill it.

Each time we’d pass under the Brazen arch. Later a second arch would go up for the 5K/10K. I ran the 10K last year and thought the endurance runners were crazy. And then I became one.

And there were great, changing signs throughout the course. Fat cells burning? You bet. According to Garmin, I burned 2,855 calories. I did five Gu in Vanilla Bean flavor. I also had Thomas constantly refilling my 20-ounce Amphipod water bottle. I brought my own Gatorade, because I knew it wouldn’t be available on the course.

I wish I would have taken a photo of an aid station, specifically the one at the arch where volunteers had everything from mini peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to oranges to chocolate candy. The other aid station, at 1.7 miles from the arch, was staffed by Mountain House runners who encouraged me on each go round. I looked forward to getting to that aid station every time.

All the volunteers were so encouraging. Including the “woo” guy taking photos. In the six hours, he showed up three places along the course.

The second time I saw him, I told him I was glad he moved because he was so encouraging.

That’s me saying “hey, you moved!” and telling him I was glad to see him. He then said he’d be moving again and I thanked him for the support. He caught that too.

Notice that these photos are vastly different from the ones I posted for the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon a couple weeks back. I wasn’t miserable during this run. I wasn’t in pain. I was having a really good time. I was taking my time. And I was loving every minute of the nearly six hours I was running. It was awesome. It was probably the best run I’ve had in a long time.

And I think it had a little something to do with my shoes.

My shoes that are now covered in dust. Check out my legs post run. I was sunburned during the last marathon, covered in dirt for this one.

And yes, I ended up at the end running a marathon. Slow and steady, finishing, according to my Garmin, with 26.7 miles. I’m still waiting for final results to post on the Brazen site to see what the timing company has recorded.

Another one with my jiggly arms. I’ve slimmed down everywhere on my body except my arms. Swimming was helping that, but I haven’t picked it up again since my swimming school shut down. So my arms just flab around when I run. Gross, I know. Look how slim my legs are though! Silver lining I guess.

It was during the lap that I’m photographed in above that my brother Danny whipped the competition during the noon 5K. I’m not even kidding. He finished fifth overall. He also was first in his age group. I’ve only ever twice finished in the top three in my age group and that was during incredibly small races.

Danny was wicked fast.

So he was waiting at the end with Thomas when I finally came in on my last go round. It took him 23:58 to run one lap. It took me much, much longer, but I was trying to pace myself to get through all six hours. (Not making up excuses at all, I was slow and steady.)

At the end, Danny was presented an awesome medal that the announcer referred to as a “piece of poop.”

Is that not the coolest medal ever for a 5K or 10K? I would have been kind of jealous if I hadn’t also earned a pretty awesome medal that also doubled as a coaster and bottle opener.

It even has backing on it so it won’t scratch the table. That on top of the awesome hoodie I received instead of a shirt and I think this is the best distance run I’ve ran so far. I know I felt great after I finished. And that was really important to me after the disaster in San Diego.

Plus I got to spend the day with my husband (who wasn’t all that great at crewing, so much so he said next time Danny could crew for me and he’d go to the nearby shooting range) and my little brother, who got a second age-group medal that I didn’t take a photo of.

I sent my mom that photo as a “proof of life” for my brother. Danny ran his first half marathon with me in 2011. After we ate and got back to my house, he had an accelerated heart rate. He ended up in the emergency room in the hospital down the street. I felt horrible, so I didn’t ask him to run with me again until Bay to Breakers. I sent her a “proof of life” photo after that too.

You can tell I changed shirts here. I had to. As it became hotter (probably why I slowed a lot near the end), I became more and more sweaty. I smelled so bad after I finished. I immediately took off my tank top and put on another shirt. Yeah, it was that bad.

We hung around a little, mostly so I could regain my bearings. Running for that long kind of wears the legs down. Surprisingly I’m not feeling half bad a day later. As we left, the 12-hour runners were still going strong.

I admire that. I honestly don’t think I could have gone six more hours. My toes were starting to blister (just from repeated pounding), and my right hip was starting to feel a little pain. But I had no IT band issues. My shoes were wide enough to not push my feet into a curve. I was happy the entire way through.

A good day? Yes. A good run? Yes.

It’s funny that taking longer to go a similar distance than I did just over a month ago came make me feel better, but this run wasn’t about the distance as much as it was covering all six hours. It was about finding my stride and sticking to it. It was also about finally meeting a goal I set for myself.

And I did. Success. Finally.

Jun 10

4 Comments

Second marathon sophomore slump: Part II

I usually don’t start out posts with the “after” photo, but felt in this case it was necessary. The above photo comes from near the finish line. I’m beyond spent at this point. I don’t even think I can describe how tired I am at this point. My feet are killing me. I’m near tears. I just wanted it to end.

At 4:45 a.m. I woke up to my iPhone alarm. I usually have to set two, but since I didn’t sleep at all I didn’t even need the second one. I rolled out of bed and started getting ready for the 6:15 a.m. wave starts. I was in corral 25, so I’d be heading out later, obviously, than 6:15 a.m., but I still wanted to be down to the start area with enough time to go to the bathroom (necessary, always) and warm up.

I ate an apple in the hotel room and most of a Chocolate Peppermint Luna bar. I also wrapped my feet. My shoes had been giving me a lot of problems, more than my Nikes ever did. I kept thinking I’d break in the Saucony Hurricane 14s before the marathon. By the time I hit the streets of San Diego, I had put about 80 miles on them alone.

Broken in? No. Not at all.

My pinky toes were completely raw. I also kept getting blisters on the inside of my foot. All of this would come back to haunt me during the 26.2. But at 5 a.m. I thought wrapping my feet with moleskin and then doing a once around with tape would make the world better.

Thomas drove us away from the hotel on the less than 10-minute drive to the starting line.

The portable toilet lines were ridiculous. I’ve seriously never seen so many people waiting to use the bathrooms. This was a complete 180 from the Oakland Half Marathon earlier this year where there ALWAYS seem to be ample bathrooms and no lines.

The bathroom wait ended up being about 30+ minutes. That was actually fine, if only because the waves went off every two minutes or so. By the time I was done using the bathroom, there were still six or more waves in front of me. I lined up with Corral 25 and set my Garmin.

Nerves were taking over. I downed a Vanilla Bean Gu before I crossed the start. It didn’t help soothe my stomach.

I figured they would get better once I started running.

Nope.

But either way, close to 7 a.m., we were off and running.

It started out promising.

Mile 1: 10:59 — I was hoping I wouldn’t start running and suddenly have to go to the bathroom. Thankfully I didn’t. The first mile is downhill straight until a quick turn onto University Avenue. I hit Mile 1 and was feeling OK.

Mile 2: 11:08 — The first water stop comes pretty quickly here. I bypass it because I’m carrying my 20-ounce Amphipod water bottle.

Mile 3: 11:12 — We’re in Balboa Park for parts of miles 2 and 3. It’s beautiful. Nice architecture. I’m still feeling OK. We’re passing the zoo. This is also the point is seemed like every guy on the course seemed to be running off into the bushes to go to the bathroom. The women on the course talked about how they were envious they couldn’t do that.

Mile 4: 10:54 — This is what split the course between the half marathon and the marathon. I suddenly felt so much more comfortable with fewer people around. A little more than 7,000 were running the marathon. There were more than twice that many in the half marathon. I took a Gu, hoping the fatigue I was feeling would level off.

Mile 5: 11:10 — Lots of street, few big sites.

Mile 6: 11:10 — We ran through Petco Park, which was pretty nice in itself. This is also the point where I started to feel tired. The Gu seemed to be working too.

Mile 7: 12:48 — And then, just like that, it wasn’t working anymore. A gradual incline started here. My body wasn’t having it.

Mile 8: 14:52 — Things went from bad to worse here. The stable group I was running with was suddenly gone. I was still moving up an incline. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I was lucky that this mile wasn’t longer really. I got lucky and ran into a portable toilet that was behind a performer’s stage. I don’t think we are supposed to do that, but there was no one stopping me. And by the time I ran out of the toilet, there was a line of people waiting to use the bathroom.

Mile 9: 13:15 — We got onto Highway 163 at this point, which is banked for most of the surface. I wasn’t down for the count yet.

In fact I still looked pretty happy despite slowing down again on the inclines. Everyone was starting to look a little fatigued here, but I was still in good company.

Mile 10: 14:12 — I had done a Gu at mile 8, like planned. But my body wasn’t having it. I did another here.

Mile 11: 11:37 — The Gu, with a nice long downhill allowed me some speed here.

Mile 12: 13:58 — But not long enough. By this time, the tape I had secured around the moleskin was wearing into my foot. I’m not talking about a slight wear. It was a painful searing. I didn’t want to stop, though, because I already knew I was quite a bit behind my goal.

Mile 13: 12:07 — The Gu caught up with me, but my half marathon time was somewhere around 2:41. I was spent. Two runners tried to help my spirits, but I wasn’t having any of it

Mile 14: 13:36 — The slowdown continues as we start moving back uphill.

Mile 15: 11:37 — I did another Gu here.

Mile 16: 14:30 — Here we start an excruciating out and back area. By now I can tell my foot has been rubbed raw. I also know my baby toes are completely trashed. This is also the point where I stopped at an aid station and had a woman re-tape my foot. I thought, maybe, it was at mile 19. That’s where I nearly melted down. A nice woman at a medical tent along the way told me that I could give up. But if I did, the sweep crew would be nearly two-hours behind. I had a moment here where I almost did give up.

Mile 17: 13:32 — Gu. This was probably the most depressing part of the run. I was so tired. I didn’t want to go. Every step was painful. I wanted to cry.

Mile 18: 13:17 — More of the same.

Mile 19: 13:07 — I started to feel as if this run would have an end. I did another Gu, before I was supposed to, but I kept going.

Mile 20: 11:42 — The Gu propelled me through a beautiful park area. I couldn’t help but be propelled to move forward.

That’s about the point in the run where I knew that if I put my mind to it and forgot about how much pain my feet were in, I could get through it. That would prove harder than I thought, though. The photos are my purchases from MarathonFoto. And they get better, just wait.

Mile 21: 12:07 — “Keep moving,” I kept telling myself. More Gu. I’m surprised I finished with one Gu left for all I was taking down.

Mile 22: 13:19 — This part was discouraging. We moved from one island, full of support, onto another where it seemed the crowd thinned out so much that we were the only ones there.

Mile 23: 13:43 — Then, I couldn’t do it anymore. My feet were killing me.

Mile 24: 12:56 — The pain took control.

Mile 25: 15:05 — Those photos? Yeah. That happened. I didn’t care who was taking my picture. It hurt. My legs felt fine. But my feet were not having it. Not at all. I was so mad. I was mad at myself. I was mad at my shoes. I was mad at the run itself. I was just hoping to finish at this point. I knew I wouldn’t be breaking any records. I knew I wouldn’t be better than my previous time. I was pissed. I can’t even say how pissed I was. It was depressing. Considering I’d spent more time preparing for this run than the first, I was depressed. I did a Gu.

Mile 26: 12:28 — It’s here, I decided to pick it up again after another Gu. Yep, another. I just kept taking them down.

Mile .2: 3:53 — Pushing it here. Trying to run it in. The finish line seemed so far away.

I ran over a very uneven part of road/sidewalk here. You can see it in the photo on the left. That one little imperfection at the end just added insult to injury. Finally, after all that pain, I crossed the finish line.

Garmin time: 5:34:26

Chip time: 5:34:14

I walked in a daze through the finish area and collected my medal. I had enough energy to smile for the photo at the end, but no more. I was done. It was over. And I hated nearly every minute of it.

So what went wrong? I want to say everything. My training was strong. I went out conservatively.

The shoes were the biggest problem. I had blisters everywhere at the end. I could barely stand after I sat down. The bottom line: After nearly a month of trying to break my Saucony Hurricane 14s in, I was getting nowhere in making them work for me. Instead, they put me in excruciating pain the entire way through. My small toes were rubbed raw. I had gnarly blisters. I even had two blood blisters. It was a mess.

Something I wish I knew before the marathon: My shoes weren’t working for me.

I’m a big believer that the bad runs make the good ones all that much better. But this was ridiculous.

My husband tried to reassure me that I should be proud. I ran 26.2 miles. He was proud. Yet, all I feel is defeated. Defeated by a distance that only months earlier I ran 14 minutes quicker.

I contemplated this as I sobbed on a curb. Thomas had forgot my backpack with flip flops in it. I didn’t want to put my shoes back on. So I sobbed while he went and got the backpack. It was kind of like Pink’s “Just Like a Pill” when she says “I haven’t moved from the spot where you left me, this must be a bad trip.”

And it was a bad trip indeed.

Like that, it was over. I waddled to the car. We started on our way home. Nearly eight hours in the car later, and suddenly realizing I had a gnarly leg sunburn, the weekend was over. I’ve never been so thankful in my life to have taken a Monday off.

I wish I could say I learned something from this run about my training structure or what I need to do in the future. But the truth is, nearly a week later, I just want to put it out of my mind.

I’m thinking it will take me awhile to get over the disappointment my second marathon.

Jun 9

Second marathon sophomore slump: Part I

To say I’ve been dreading writing my race recap for the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon would be an understatement. Part of me was hoping, maybe I could just not write anything about the race outside of saying that it sucked. It was not fun for me. It made me work every minute. And I was miserable the entire time.

But that wouldn’t be much of a race recap.

I keep having these “I should have known” moments. I don’t do travel races all too well. I proved that during the Big Sur Half Marathon in November and again during the Big Sur 21-miler. (Or maybe I’m just not up to par for Big Sur races?) Somehow I managed to do OK with California International Marathon last year, though.

The plan was that we’d go down to San Diego on Saturday, early and head back after the race on Sunday.

So we ventured down Interstate 5 in the wee hours of the morning. We hit the road around 5:30 a.m. We sped past Los Angeles, which is about five hours south of where I live, before the noon hour. And, after only two stops along the way, we made it to San Diego sometime after the noon hour.

The happy buzz kind of started to end there as we hit traffic along Harbor Boulevard in downtown on our way to the Convention Center where the expo was happening.

I’ve been to three Rock ‘n’ Roll expos so far. This one was the biggest. This was also the biggest of the three races I’d run.

The check in process was simple. I was handed my blue “marathon” bib.

Rock ‘n’ Roll generally has a pretty efficient system. Bib. Shirt. Reusable backpack.

I got lucky this time with the race shirt. It was a female size. And it even fits good. My one from Pasadena seemed to run a little large. It’s also a nice blue color and basic enough for me to want to wear it again. (I should do a post on what makes race shirts wearable, seriously, because I have quite a few I want to send in and have a quilt made from because I don’t wear them.)

The biggest thing I noticed about the expo was that there was a ton of free stuff. Free milk. Free swag. Free Jamba Juice drinks. Free cake. Even free tuna fish.

Speaking of tuna, I even got a photo with Charlie the Tuna, the mascot from StarKist Tuna.

So that’s a pretty awesome photo. I walked around for about an hour, making a purchase of a 26.2 shirt at the Brooks booth and a new roller for my legs.

The new roller was actually on sale. It’s called a TigerTail and it’s somewhat like my Stick roller from another expo. But it has a solid roller in the middle instead of the beads. This is amazing because my Stick roller pinches me every now and then.

That’s what it looks like. I’ve used it multiple times since the marathon. I’ve also taken it to work to roll my legs out when I need to if I am sitting for too long. At $25, I feel like I got a deal on it.

I didn’t spend too much money at the expo. I just didn’t see anything I really needed, outside of the TigerTail, and maybe some items here and there. I should note that I bought a new container of Glide, but not the name brand. I had forgotten my Glide at home and my fat little arm on my right side has been chafing pretty badly. My arms and gut are the first places I gain weight and where it usually stays, so even when my stomach is looking more svelte and my legs are bulked out, my arms are still chubby.

Before the exit, the videos of the course were playing out.

It was then I had a moment where I realized “I’m running 26.2 miles tomorrow.” And I was nervous. And scared. I’d like to think it doesn’t how many times you do this distance, the  likelihood is that if you are more mortal, less Olympian, you never really full comprehend how long it is when you sign up for it.

It’s a bit of a distance.

We left the expo and headed into the Gaslamp District in San Diego for cupcakes. For me. Because I love cupcakes and I knew specifically where a shop was since I was down in San Diego overnight for an American Society of Newspaper Editors conference in early 2011.

Then we headed back to the hotel. It’s there that a headache started to flair up. But I went and had a pasta dinner, usual fuel, and decided not to head out for a night on the town. Instead, I’d try to tuck in early and see if I could catch up on sleep.

That’s where my experience in San Diego all goes down hill.

I got into bed at 9 p.m. and couldn’t sleep. I turned every which way. I put on the fan for white noise. I was comfortable, but I wasn’t sleeping.

So I laid there. For seven hours. Eyes closed, but never fully falling asleep.

There was nothing I could do about it. My mind kept wandering. Every time I thought “this will be the point I’ll fall asleep” it didn’t happen. I just kept staring at the ceiling.

There was no way I wouldn’t be exhausted running this race. I knew it then. I’d woken up at 4 a.m. the morning before and hadn’t slept the entire night. When my alarm clock went off at 4:45 a.m. I considered not running.

But I’d trained so hard. I’d come so far.

Part of me thought I could pull it together and get it done. And that’s all I thought about as my husband drove me to the start line. My mind wandered. My stomach turned.

It wouldn’t get any better going into the race.

 

Jun 4

San Diego was beautiful, but painful

Every single one of my worst thoughts came true. But I blame my downfall on a bad case of insomnia. I didn’t sleep the night before the race. At all. I probably shouldn’t have even tried to run 26.2.

But I did. And I hit the wall early. And it got ugly.

A day later my feet are blistered. My legs are sunburned and sore. And I’m overall exhausted.

My finish time: 5:34:14.

That’s 14 minutes slower than California International Marathon. It’s enough to make me rethink my focus, my training and my attitude. My husband says I’m over thinking it. I probably am. But I want to get better. Not worse.

I was exhausted by mile eight. And I just couldn’t pull the magic back. There was not enough Gu in the world to save it.

I nearly quit at mile 19. But a really nice aid station volunteer persuaded me against it. So I pulled it together, got back out there and finished.

I have some bad splits. I was 12 minutes behind the entire way. But I made it.

My husband, who bought me the little bear above, was proud. I finished. And on some days, sometimes that’s what it’s really about.

A full race report to come later.

Am I disappointed? Yes. But I also ran 26.2 miles. And I pretty damn proud of that too.

 

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