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Posts tagged ‘long run’

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.

Oct 30

A twenty-mile journey

Sometimes when you start running, you don’t exactly know how far you can go, you just hope to get where you need to be. That happens to me a lot. I hop on the treadmill or turn onto my street for a run with no number in mind. Instead, I just put one foot in front of another.

I just keep going.

And going.

I, hopefully, eventually, reach my goal.

Some days, with everything going on in my life, I don’t see the finish line anywhere in site. I’m swamped with work. I have way too many extracurricular-type activities. I’m always on the run, literally.

I have days where I feel exactly like  I look in this photo:

Tired. Confused. Defeated.

And then I have days like today.

Today, I feel on top of the world.

My alarm clock was set at 5:45 a.m. I only hit snooze once. I rolled out of bed, put on my running clothes and was out the door by 6:15 a.m. I had packed the reusable bag I got at the Nike Women’s Half Marathon with about 10 different things.

I called it my “no excuse” bag.

It had Larabars, M&Ms, Body Glide, Zensah Compression shin sleeves, a charger for my Garmin and a couple other things. I filled my two 20-ounce Amphipod waterbottles with a Gatorade/water mix.

I also filled a 32-ounce water bottle (also from the Nike Women’s Half Marathon) with Gatorade for Jennie and I. I figured this would take away all our excuses for wanting to stop.

It actually did.

I met Jennie in the Central Community Park in Mountain House. It was pitch black.

We calmed our nerves a little, but the task at hand was a huge one: One 20-mile run.

No giving up. No turning back.

We started running. About a mile in we stopped at a portable toilet in the newest of the subdivisions in Mountain House. We saw a coyote. We kept moving. And moving.

Two miles. Three miles. Four. Five. Seven. Eight. Nine.

We kept counting down, talking about 100 different things. It’s amazing what you can learn about someone when running. I love Jennie. She’s one of the most honest, nonjudgmental people I know. She’s an awesome mother. And she’s determined as all hell. I’m glad she was with me all 20 miles today.

We laughed. We nearly broke down a couple times. We walked a slightly long duration toward the end (I think about 1/2 mile at one point). But we kept going. We kept putting one foot in front of the other.

And, soon, after more than four hours moving, we were done.

“I look like someone ran over my face,” after looking at this photo again.

But we did it. And thank God for Jennie. When I started to get tired, she propelled me. When she started to get tired, I encouraged her. And we stayed next to each other or close the entire time (until my Garmin battery started dying and I had to step it up to get the 20-mile Garmin reading).

And then, we were done.

We celebrated by running over to the one and only market in Mountain House and getting Slush Puppies (Jennie’s treat, which was awesome after a run that long).

My husband said, all you have to do is write: “It sucked.” But it didn’t suck. In fact, it was the total opposite of “sucking.”

I felt amazing after. I felt renewed. I felt alive.

I tweeted this not too soon after:

In high school, one of my favorite bands was Fuel. The band has one specific song, “Sunburn,” that I love tremendously because of a specific set of lines within it.

“You were gone, you were no there for me, and I cursed the sky and begged the sun to fall all over me. This life’s not living, living ain’t free. And if I can’t find my way back to me, let the sun fall down over me,” the chorus repeats.

The highlighted part is my favorite. A friend once asked me why, the real reason, I run. First it was about diabetes. Then it was about getting in better shape. Now, it’s about finding myself.

Today, I did. Between miles 16-20 I found a part of me that I’d left behind for some time. I found the will to continue to despite difficultly. I found a way to keep going even though I was tired. I found my will again.

Sometimes it’s not about the time. Sometimes it’s about the distance. And sometimes, it’s about the journey that gets you from the first mile to the last. There is a part of you that changes when you put on step in front of another. There’s an even bigger part that changes when you realize, after all, you can do it.

My twenty-mile journey, today, wasn’t just a training run. It was about finding my way back to me.

Oct 28

Good sign for the weekend

I’m hoping to do my longest run this weekend. I have  friend, who is also signed up to run the California International Marathon, ready to run with me. I know I can get through the first 10. It’s the second 10 that worries me.

I ran 8 this morning and was tired.

I’m a little scared.

Then I opened this today after I ate my lunch.

This means it will be okay, right?

I sure hope so.

Oct 9

Finally 15

I was supposed to wake up this morning and head to Mountain House for a 15-mile run with Jennie. That didn’t happen. Instead, I woke up at 2 a.m. with a bloody nose. I didn’t think much of it outside of it being annoying. When I woke up again at 5:45 a.m. I sneezed and my nose started bleeding even more. Then it didn’t stop.

Well, crap.

Sorry for the graphic nature, but the blood was running down my throat. I held my head back. I tried to make the nose bleed stop in the bathroom so that I’d still be able to run. Nope. I texted Jennie. We were a no go on the run.

I got the nose bleed to stop, temporarily, and went back to bed. I didn’t wake up again until after 10 a.m. and the nose bleed came back, a little. Great. It was turning out to be a not-so-great morning.

I put away my hopes for a 15-mile run. I decided to just relax.

By 2 p.m. I was feeling A LOT better. But it was past the point I like to run outside. If I venture out at 3 or 4 p.m. I usually end up being held up by traffic lights and not-so-nice motorists who refuse to wait for me to cross.

So I opted for a treadmill run.

Yikes. I’ve done 10-mile treadmill runs. Never 15.

So I prepared.

First, I found the non Band-Aid brand band-aids. I know there’s another term for them, but it escapes me. I still have a bad blister injury from last week’s half marathon. So I wrapped my toe.

I prepared for a slowish run because I wanted to make sure I could last the whole 15 miles. I aimed at 12-minute pacing. I started quick, though, under a 10-minute pace.

I loaded up my 20-ounce Amphipod water bottles with a mix of 50/50 water and Gatorade.

I have two because one typically has a sleeve to keep the water colder. I use the sleeve more during the winter so that my hand doesn’t get as cold. I took it off today so it was easier to hold on to mid-way through my run.

I kept one bottle in the refrigerator. During my long treadmill runs I usually get off the treadmill a couple times. I do that for necessity rather than a real want to get off and start over.

My treadmill maxes out at 99 minutes or 999 calories. After 99 minutes the treadmill shuts down. Everything stops.

That’s part of the reason I invested in a Garmin foot pod for my Garmin 405CX.

This way I can use my Garmin to accurately reflect how far I’ve gone. It’s funny, though, even though I have the Garmin calibrated with the foot pod, my 12-minute miles were coming up short in the beginning and long at the end. It’s likely because I slow down as I run longer distances.

So I use the Garmin and have to get off the treadmill about 7.5 miles in just to reset the treadmill. I usually take this time to also grab the second water bottle, go to the bathroom, give my dog a hug, etc.

It’s always the time I want to stop as well.

I finally didn’t today. I just kept pacing through, usually doing miles under 12 minutes. I just kept moving along.

By mile 14, I was starting to get tired. This is why training runs are so important. I’m not convinced it’s about the mileage I am racking up, but rather about the time I am running. I need to be able to run 4-plus hours in order to run the marathon in less than two months. Whether it was a good idea in between two half marathons is another question.

Either way, I finally hit the 15-mile mark in slightly under three hours.

I know treadmill training isn’t the best for marathon training, but I know it can be done. I’ve read a lot about busy people who only train on treadmills, so I never feel bad running on mine. In fact, it helps my joints and is really better for me in general. So I’m slightly more back on track for this marathon.

It was really starting to worry me, not  getting in the 15-mile run. Now that I have it’s a huge weight off my chest.

On to the Nike Women’s Half Marathon next week. I’ve decided, particularly with the running of three half marathons this month, that I’m going to approach this race as a good opportunity to pace myself and really enjoy the whole 13.1 experience. I’ll be with two friends and my Team Somersaults teammates and I just really want to finish strong and have an awesome time.

Sep 25

The morning 10

My long runs are on Sunday. Right now “long” means 10 miles. Soon it will mean more as I ramp up for marathon training and a Dec. 4 date with 26.2 miles. I run with friends who still haven’t kicked me to the curb, despite the fact that I am slightly faster and often get ahead of myself and them.

We haven’t done these 10 mile runs forever, though.

We started training in January to run Bay to Breakers in San Francisco on May 15. We ramped up our mileage together (I was already running 10 miles on weekends). We had some runs that were painful 3 miles in. Then we moved up to four. Then five.

Now our weekly “short run” together is usually six miles. I say usually because we have some weeks where we can’t make it that far. Sometimes it’s just better to stop at four and call it a night.

And then we have nights like the one last Wednesday when it was blazing hot (hotter than it has been on our recent runs) and we just kept pushing through despite it. We got to six, but it wasn’t our best time ever.

I made that comment and my friend Jennie, who I think tends to the more pragmatic among the three of us who run together, pointed out that we always break some sort of record when we run together. We add mileage, she said. More mileage than last year. More hours run.

My friend Sam always says she doesn’t care about the distance, just the time and the quality of the run.

It’s funny though. We’ve been running together nine months and the quality of the running has increased. So have the conversations. And the distance.

It’s kind of redefined what a “good run” means to me.

It used to be a good time.

I had that today (see photo above from end of the run on my Garmin 405CX) but I never have a bad run with my friends. Even if we are dogging rain and running against horrible wind, it’s a “good run” because I did it with them.

 

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