Recovering from the recovery

One of the hardest things about training for the marathon was neglecting my non-running friends. Now that the race is over, everyone wants me to make up for lost time. This is awesome because my week of recovery has involved a lot of free drinks. But I’m finding that recovery is turning out to be more exhausting than the training. :-)

I decided to REALLY take the week off and do nothing physically active (unless bar hopping counts as exercise). I went out five nights in a row. I stayed up until midnight or later. I ate Cocoa Puffs and Skyline Chili. Bleh. Seven days later and my apartment is wrecked, I have no groceries, and I’m too tired to do anything except lay on the couch.

On an unrelated note, I got to experience first hand how BORING it is to spectate a race. A couple of friends did Run Like Hell on Friday night, which is a really fun 5K where everyone dresses up and runs through a cemetary. Since I’m not up to racing again yet, I just watched and held people’s gear bags. Exciting. I have a whole new appreciation for my friends and family who came out and watched the marathon last week.



The ninja, the runaway bride, and me, dressed as a spectator

The Race…

I barely heard the gun/buzzer/whatever go off and about three minutes later I shuffled across the starting line. Highlights/drivel from the race…what I remember, anyway…

Miles 1-2
Damn it’s freezing out here. My legs feel pretty good though and these first three miles went fast. Hey, I’m about 1/12th of the way finished!

Mile 3
Hmm. Both IT bands hurt. But I’m almost caught up to the 4:00 Clif pacer!

Miles 4-6
Well, crap. Both IT bands STILL hurt. Ok, finish this race and you never have to run again. Ever.

Miles 7-8
Ouch. Where is my support team? And the pacer? I have to go to the bathroom…

Mile 8.5
Finally, I’ve caught up to the Clif Bar pacer again.
Oooh look. Rent-a-Johns with no line! I’m so there.

Miles 9-11
My legs feel better! Was it the bathroom break or is the caffeine from my Gu helping? Hey, there’s my dad! And my friend Jule! I am not alone (cue Michael Jackson music)…

Miles 12-13
Who are these j-holes yelling “almost there”? I realize I am surrounded by half marathoners about to finish. I hate everyone.

Mile 14
I think, yes, I’m pretty sure I see the 4:00 Clif pacer in front of me. WAY in front of me.

Miles 14.5-18
I see a Running Spot coach on the sidelines. She’s coming to run with me! She’s talking to me, trying to keep me motivated, but I am barely listening because I am closing in on Catherine, the Clif pacer…

Mile 19
I catch Catherine and notice she is wearing pigtails. One of them has come unbraided. I’m right behind her and I can think of nothing but the lopsided ‘do. Does she know? Should I tell her???

Mile 20
Is this where I’m supposed to hit the Wall?

Mile 21
Catherine is encouraging us, saying that the race is all in our heads now because the pain is going to be awful. My legs are hurting again but they are also starting to go numb. The Wall must be coming any minute now.

I’m ready. Bring. It. On.

Mile 22
Catherine looks at her watch and announces that “a sub four is on the menu for us today”. This is a silly thing to say but I’m inspired. Am I really less than five miles from a sub four?

Mile 23
My stomach hates me. HATES me. My right knee is suddenly threatening to buckle and my sleeves, which I have pushed to my elbows, are annoying me to no end. But I don’t want to waste the energy to push them back down.

Mile 24
Ok, so am I not hitting the Wall? Hello??

Catherine advises the seasoned marathoners to run on ahead if they are feeling good but tells us newbies to hang with her until at least 25.

I realize I have yet to see four of my five friends who drove up from Cincinnati.

Hey, there’s the 4:00 pace coach from the Running Spot. And. I’m passing him.

Mile 25
Finally, I see some of my friends! I find out later that they were holding signs that say “Runners are Good in Bed” and “Show us Your Nip Guards”.

I pass Catherine and I hear her say “that’s what I want to see!”

I feel like a million bucks.

Mile 25.25
Good grief, where is the F’ing finish line?

Mile 25.5
Hey! There’s my dad again! I. Can. Do. This.

I start sprinting.

Miles 26-26.2
I see more friends on the sidelines. Then I see the finish line. It is right there.

I run all out for the last .2 miles and only then do I glance at my watch. It reads 3:58:25.

I see another Running Spot coach and he puts his arm around me to guide me out of the chute. Both legs have locked up and I am babbling nonstop. A photographer sees us and takes our picture. I make a ridiculous face at the camera, in honor of the Photo Awareness Power Point.

Packing, meltdown, and other pre-race delights

After four months of training, whining, and turning down way too many happy hours, I finally got to run the marathon last weekend! The race was in Columbus, which meant I had to pack three bags filled with every piece of running gear I own as well as all the stuff for my pre-race rituals:

- Three water bottles with Orange Gatorade powder. Orange Gatorade is NOT my favorite but I had it before the Flying Pig half and now I refuse to drink anything else before a race. Two bottles are for the day before and the other is for the morning of.

- My canister of oatmeal. I don’t really like this either but it’s what I always eat before a race or long training run. AND, our hotel had a coffee maker, which meant I got to enjoy actual oatmeal versus taking shots of raw oats floating in lukewarm water.

The weekend itself was a blur. Saturday night we had a pre-race meeting with all of our Running Spot coaches. By this point I was a nervous wreck, still debating the 4:00 vs. 4:15 finish time. I cornered the 4:00 coach and had a small (possibly medium sized) meltdown about pacing. He convinced me to start with the Running Spot 4:00 group, running the first 13 miles with people I knew, then doing a gut check at the half point. If I felt good, I could shoot for a 4:00. If not, I could back off. Sounded like a reasonable plan.

The group met again the next morning an hour before race time to take a photo and walk over to the start line together. The starting area was a ZOO, and of course by the time I found the 4:00 zone I had lost my group (amazing, because my coach was wearing a lumberjack flannel shirt and short shorts – how do you lose someone dressed like that??). Augh.

Express train to Weenieville

Tonight was officially my last group run before the marathon. I’ve been training with these people since July (a few since January, for the half Pig), and it’s hard to believe I won’t be seeing them twice a week anymore. Some of these runners have become close friends and some I don’t even know their names. Regardless, we have run together before dawn on Saturday mornings, cheered each other through training milestones, and bitched endlessly about nothing and everything over the hundreds of miles we trekked. So tonight was bittersweet – awesome that we’ve come so far and sad that I might never see some of these guys again.

This was actually my first run with the group in a few weeks, thanks to work, travel, and my own inability to get out of bed on Saturday mornings lately. I was pumped to see everyone and catch up with my running buddy. In fact, I was so caught up in chatting with her that I ran a little bit too fast for what was supposed to be an easy run. I ended up doing a 7:42/mile pace for our 4.3 miler. Oopsies. Oh, and we almost got hit by a delivery truck. But that’s another story. :-)

Everyone in the group was talking about pace for Sunday, but I’m still planning to take it slow. And ever since I decided to throw the 4 hour finish time out the window, I have been SO much more excited about the race, even though I feel somewhat like a punk. We’ll see what happens I guess.

Although, according to the “Photo Awareness” Power Point deck our coach** sent us this afternoon, 90% of people I talk to post-race won’t care about my finish time! Who knew that how you do in the race is not important compared to how you look in the finish PHOTOS. In fact, the SLOWER you run, the better chance you have of:

- Making 26.2 miles look effortless (think of the legacy you'll leave for your children/grandchildren)

- Not looking like a weenie

- Getting dates on Match.com (profiles with pictures get 15 times more attention – unless you’re ugly!)

These are actual tips, I am not making this up. If I were more Internet savvy I would embed a link to this presentation in my blog. The whole thing was lost on me, as I am just not hardcore enough to care, at all, how I look in my race photos. Seriously, if some poor photographer does happen to catch me on marathon course, I'll be the cross-eyed hunchback of Notre Dame with her hat pulled over her face. Save me a seat on the express train to Weenieville. Actually never mind, I might be the driver.


**Please note that my coach is a highly credible marathoner/triathlete/duathlete and has kicked my butt all summer with an amazing, grueling marathon training program. I really, really do respect him but this Power Point was just silly to me.

Consistency is overrated

At least I hope it is. Otherwise I’m up a creek. :-)

Yesterday was supposed to be another MP run (I’m seeing a pattern here…) of 10-14 miles. I set out to do 10, with a four-mile add-on plan in the back of my head in case I got out there and was feeling super magical. Guess what? I was feeling neither super nor magical.

When I got to the top of the first hill, I was wheezing plus both Achilles were killing me. Ha. It was like I had never run before in my life. I’ve heard that I am supposed to feel like crap during the taper, so maybe that’s what it is? Other factors that may have been adding to my discomfort:

- The 85-degree weather. I can’t remember the last time I ran in anything hotter than 75 degrees.

- Fatigue from driving to/from Columbus the night before plus dancing. One of my college pals got married and I stupidly decided to cut a rug (in high heels) at her wedding. Note to self: No more Electric Slide before the race.

- Hills, hills, hills. WHY did I decide to live at the bottom of half-mile incline??

Whatever my problem was yesterday, I only did about 8 miles and averaged a 9:31 pace. And the 9:31 pace was tough. Shouldn’t I be able to do an 8-mile MP run with my eyes closed at this point? How was I able to run an 8:41 the other night? WTF is wrong with me?

I’m thinking of starting with the 10-minute mile pace group at the race. If I feel ok, I’ll move up. If I don’t…I guess I’ll finish with a 4:22?

I got to say it was a good day…

…and I didn’t even have to use my AK. (only funny if you’re an Ice Cube fan)

Anywho. My taper schedule called for a 5-6 mile marathon pace run last night, and since I actually left work on time, I got to run to Eden Park! Hooray for a change of scenery. I have to run through Walnut Hills (sketchy) to get to the park, so this is a route I normally skip when it’s dark out. Too bad because there’s an awesome overlook of the city/Ohio River in mile 2.5.

I decided to live on the edge and not take my splits every mile. Really I just wanted to see how close I could get to marathon pace by instinct alone. Not that close as it turns out. Once I got to the top of the first hill and was feeling good, I decided to push it a little. There have been a bunch of shorter runs this summer where I decided to “push it”, only to come home and find that I averaged like a 9:30 or something. But last night I averaged 8:41/mile! I was so excited because I felt great through the whole run. I know 5.5 miles is a drop in the bucket for next weekend’s race, but it has been a LONG time since I felt so energized during and after a run.

To that end, I don’t know if it’s the taper, the deep tissue massage I had last weekend, or my crazy daily stretching routine, but my IT bands are finally starting to feel better. Hopefully I didn’t jinx myself by writing that. And hopefully it's ok that I ran 30 seconds per mile faster than marathon pace. I suppose there's probably a reason our coach wanted us to do a MP run versus a "go out and see what happens" run. Doh.

Grazing my way through the taper

You know those farm animals that have to be led away from the trough when mealtime is over? I think I’m officially one of them. Four days into the taper and all I can think about is food.

Despite the fact (or maybe because) I’m eating like a goat, I had a solid negative split workout last night. I ended up running the Lunken Bike Trail, which is super flat and was pretty much deserted. Plus it was just about dark by the time I hit my 30-minute turnaround point, so that was plenty of incentive for me to run faster. There are no lights on the bike trail and there are some interesting characters that appear out of the woods now and then, hence it only took me 26:44 minutes to run back to the car. Probably good that I had something to motivate me because my legs were a little sluggish.

Overall it was a good workout, but after a summer of Tuesday nights spent doing 8-mile hill runs in the heat, grueling road intervals, etc., I walked away from last night thinking “that was it?” Normally Tuesday night workouts leave me wanting to toss my cookies or at the very least, falling asleep in the shower. However, last night I had enough energy to make dinner (and actually eat it) when I got home.

It just seems messed up that I am supposed to be lazy (lazy meaning 20-25 mile weeks) right before the marathon. Feels like I should be cramming in as much running as possible, kind of like staying up all night to study before a big test. I know that's NOT what I'm supposed to do, so I'm now grappling with a drop in training intensity coupled with the urge to consume an entire carton of ice cream.

The best laid plans…

I’ve always had a bi-polar relationship with running, but I think it might be getting out of control. Literally every other run I’m back and forth between “I love running!” and “I hate this sport!” This Saturday’s workout was no exception.

The running group was doing 18-20 miles, which I’d been advised not to do thanks to my stupid IT bands, so I knew I probably should go it alone. I opted to run the 8-mile path at Miami Whitewater Forest and planned to do the loop twice. I’ve never done it before so at least it would be interesting the first time around.

The plan was to run one mile warm-up, seven miles at marathon pace (9:09), four miles at about an 8:20 pace, then marathon pace for the last four miles. Also, I took my iPod with me for only the second time this training season and I actually used it.

The run started out great and I was averaging a few seconds below marathon pace. However, around mile 6.5 my GI system decided it didn’t want to play nice with me. I’d like to blame this on the Leinenkugels I was drinking Friday night but honestly, I think my body is just revolting against all this training.

Adding insult to injury, my legs completely locked up when I pit stopped at mile 8. The IT bands had been bugging me (although not as bad as they had been) throughout the run, and when I went to get back on the trail I was limping.

I could have pushed through and gone out for the second loop, but mentally I just couldn’t do it to myself. I always like to think I’m tough but I feel like I’ve had SO many bad runs lately, the idea of pushing my barely-bendable legs through another eight miles made me want to cry.

So I quit. If I’m going to cry through any run, it’s going to be the marathon, not a training run. I just hope that I have a solid enough base behind me that I didn’t totally F myself by skipping the last long run…

Bad Day = Good Run?

I really, really didn’t want to run tonight. I was in a terrible mood thanks to a bad day at work, a lack of sleep, and the fact that most of my colleagues were headed to our favorite dive bar for some marathon drinking (and I couldn’t go with them). But instead of joining my pals for a beer, I opted for a progressive pace run. I’m just too far behind on mileage this week.

I planned to start my first mile out slow – easy to do since I live at the bottom of a long hill. I normally average a 10:30-11 minute pace on this particular stretch, so when I looked at my split, I was excited to see a 9:39.

The next mile had a small downhill plus some flat spots, which led to an 8:04 for the split. Doh. How can I still be this bad at pacing myself?

Mile three was a gradual climb and I was able to slow it down to an 8:58 pace. (I knew I shouldn't/couldn't keep running faster than an 8:04 for another four miles.) Miles four and five I was able to crank out an 8:31 and another 8:04 respectively. (I was chasing another runner for a while, probably helped me on the hills).

Mile six. This is where I get to run DOWN the long, steep hill back to my apartment and is usually the best part of the run. However, running downhill aggravates my temperamental IT bands so I had to focus on taking shorter strides, leaving me with an 8:05 for the last mile.

Not sure that what I did qualifies as a progressive pace workout? I was in a great mood by the time I finished and I was quicker than I had hoped for, so I don’t really care if I messed up any potential mathematical calculations I was probably supposed to follow. And…this is why I’m a mid-pack runner. Oh well, cheers to that. :-)

Bea Arthur and a negative split run

I spent the last 20 hours in sunny Georgia for business. This trip fell at the end of a three-day sabbatical from running, so I decided to try and get a few miles in this morning before my workday began. Due to a lengthy battle with the snooze button, I knew it would have to be a quick workout if I wanted to make the 9 am client meeting.

St. Simons Island is actually a great place to run - totally flat with bike/run paths everywhere. As an added bonus, I wound up with the Golden Girls theme song in my head since the houses down there are that same architecture style and there is more wicker per square mile than you could ever hope to imagine.

Anywho, I’ve been reading that speed work is really important in this part of the marathon training (less than three weeks to go!) and I thought that a negative split workout would be a good way to get the most out of my short run. There was just enough breeze to mask the humidity, everything smelled like wet pine trees, and I had the road to myself. It was one of those awesome mornings when I honestly couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing AND I accomplished my negative split goal.

Now, if I could just get my IT bands on board with this whole running thing.

I'm bound and determined to show these unruly bits of connective tissue who is boss, but what hurts the most is right around my left glute, which I can’t seem to get with the roller OR the Stick. I think I might have to go get a massage. There are worse things in life. :-)