4/24/11

For the run of it....

Sometimes you have to run just because you love to run. Marathon training is so regimented. It was nice to run a 6 mile leg and just run without regard to pace, time or distance. This is our Jersey Shore Marathon Relay Team. The 5 of us finished a marathon distance (The Riddler was just there for show. He will run next year, when he's ten years old.) in 3 hours and 39 minutes.

4/11/11

while we're on the subject of "all things are possible"

In my last post, I said that I am living proof that anyone can run- all they have to do is want to do it more than they want to quit. I might not have believed that when I was younger. I always thought that fitness or athletics of any kind was one of those "ya have it in ya or ya don't" type situations. And if I was not a direct witness to the fact that anyone can make what seems impossible a reality, I might have trouble believing it still.

I am so excited that the fifteen mile run that left me feeling strong, confident, eager, and ready for the challenge of a marathon coincided with the completion of my fiance's twelve week transformation this weekend.

How #$^@!*ing $#@%*ing awesome is that. I'll spare you the words that reinforce my "anything is possible" mindset. Those pictures say enough.

4/10/11

Flying Pigs and Perfect Pace. Fo' real.

I decided on fifteen miles today. Yeah I know Hal said I should run thirteen, but I was craving a challenging distance. I have not run more than a half marathon distance in about 4 years and I've been anxious to tackle longer distances since I started this training schedule. So fifteen became my magic number. A friend of mine got me started on a trend of always wearing knee high (which are usually over-the-knee since I'm just barely 5'3") tube socks. They remind me not to take myself too seriously. Also, I hope that they challenge people to work harder in a race. Heaven forbid that you get smoked by a girl in knee high tube socks. I now proudly own several pair and for today's run I chose the flying pigs.


I don't have a long route. I know every tenth mile of the boardwalk for a 10 mile (or less) out-and-back. I can't imagine multiple loops for a training run on the boardwalk. Since this is the closest safe place to run, the boardwalk is my place when the weather is ideal. This run put me far south of home where the boardwalk kinda ends. I had to improvise (and make sure I didn't get lost) by running on some main roads and some private streets in order to try and get my full 7.5 miles in one direction. I came up short and had to turn around at 6.75 miles. I passed my town and went into the neighboring town just north to complete the last mile and change of the run. Sometimes I forget how beautiful the shore front properties are in this area. I ran with an ocean view through Ocean Grove, Bradley Beach, Avon, Belmar, Spring Lake and Sea Girt AND BACK and did the remaining difference on the Asbury Park boardwalk. I'm blessed to have this beautiful place to run!

For my first marathon, I have a goal time of 4:30. I kinda think I can do a little better, but I'm playing it safe. I know there will be other marathons in my future and I'll have plenty of opportunities to obsess on getting better and better at this distance.

Today, I was determined to run as close to my race pace as possible. For me, it's hard to go slow like that especially when I know that speeding up will help me finish the run faster. I rarely do it, but I ran with a Garmin Forerunner. It's a great training tool, BUT one must use it carefully. I never run with the heart rate strap. Watching my heart rate actually makes my heart rate go up! (I've tested this.) Also, I have to fight looking at the thing every 20 seconds. The watch is fairly heavy and large and the last buckle hole is too tight, but the second to the last buckle hole is too loose... I have considered wearing it around my neck in a Flavor Flave type fashion but that would be even more annoying. But this thing shows you your pace, distance and time. So I was able to watch myself and make sure that I did not exceed 6.2 mph (I just picked that number) for very long. Running at 6.0 was hard but once I figured out how to stride to make this pace work, it wasn't so bad. I noticed that my ego passively gets the best of me- whenever someone passed, I would speed up. Whenever I passed a runner that I recognized, I would speed up. Whenever people were looking at my socks for too long, I would speed up.

Anywho, without too much effort, I accomplished another negative split. This time it was only a difference of two minutes, but I couldn't allow for much more- I haven't run fifteen miles in a long time and I didn't want to chance hitting that notorious wall. I am impressed with this run- I didn't stop the clock for bathroom or hydration breaks (I wore a belt with two bottles in it!) and I know for certain that the second bathroom break took longer because I refilled my bottles with water in addition to just using the facilities. (That's right I used boardwalk bathroom sink water...) Additionally, during the second half of the run, I stopped to adjust my patella strap and I also stopped once to stretch.

Here's what I accomplished:


15.02 miles in 2:32:47. Not bad for the longest distance I've run in years!!! And I felt like I could've kept going. I'll say it again and again, I am living proof that anyone can do it. You just have to want to do it more than you want to quit. Particularly when it sucks. Really, it's that simple.

4/7/11

negativity and the negative split

Guess what happens when you decide that you can't?

You don't.

Especially when you know what you are supposed to do and how you are supposed to prepare and what you are supposed to focus on and you behave as though these things are optional.

Since I don't believe in luck, I must create my own success. This entails following a plan and preparing the path to success. If I don't succeed, I make no room for whining and crying and blaming random occurrences (or people) for preventing my success. If I want it, I have to get it my damn self.

Several months ago, I registered for a ten mile race in Washington DC and I ran this race on Sunday. (We actually put ourselves in as a team in the lottery and got selected. That's not luck, that's favorable odds.) This made me have to swap out long runs in my marathon training program, but I checked with Hal and he said it was ok to do this once in awhile, as long as you get all of your mileage in. (And by the way, the previous entry was about a race the week before, so don't get all uppity and say I'm over-doing it...)

I was already intimidated. I knocked 39 seconds off of my previous ten mile pace PR. If I'm doing the math right, I shaved more than six minutes off. That's freakin' awesome. Since I always compete against myself, I know that in this race, I am supposed to beat my previous PR. I already know that's a tall order- how much more time can I shave off after only a couple of weeks? Additionally, several thousand people are running this ten mile race. Two weeks ago, that was a nice local one. Freehold NJ isn't as popular as Washington DC I suppose. For me, crowded races are difficult to navigate through. It's like rush hour traffic. Go, slow down, go around, watch out for the person that's tail gating, double check your blind spots before you change lanes, etc...

So, we take a leisurely 4-ish hour drive to the nations capital. I'm quietly anxious about my competition- I have no idea how I'm going to beat my time from two weeks ago. I decide that the only way it can happen is through sheer will and determination. Do I have it?

Well, not today. I didn't say anything to anyone about it- I didn't want to give power to the doubt. I didn't want to risk hearing any implication of "it's ok- just do your best".

But what happens when you're already anxious and doubtful, then you eat food that you know you shouldn't, have a couple of drinks, only get 5 hours sleep, and show up with no time to stretch or warm up before a race? You drag ass. And you resign to dragging ass. My legs are actually HURTING for the first two miles. And there are so many people to go around. So I hang back and tell myself that I'll make this a training run and ignore the clock... Yeah that's it. That's what I'm doing. My pace is so easy- the photographers through the course caught me smiling, giving a double thumbs up, and actually looking pretty good in general. (That never happens- I am usually slightly frightening in race photos.)

By the 5th mile I say to myself "Hey, what is this? No more slacking!" and I pick up my pace. I want this PR. But you know what??? It's too late. I can't make up for the leisurely five miles I just ran. I come in 4 minutes slower than that coveted PR that I was supposed to top. Oh well. That's what you get.

HOWEVER...

I looked at the race results. And I ran a negative split. By a lot. My per-mile pace was 50 seconds faster in the second half of the race. AND that pace was 4 seconds/mile faster than my previous PR. So it was there. I just didn't find it until mile 5. I'm trying really hard not to type "duh... winning" after that last statement.

So from this race, I learned that my mindset is more than half the battle. I already know I can run. I already know I have a great VO2 max and I can go for a long time. But none of this matters if I resign myself to doubt AND pave the way for it to take over.

And I'll also run more negative splits. Just because I can.

4/4/11

Fear

A 12 mile run was on my marathon training schedule. I decided that I could run strong and stay committed to the distance if I registered for a 20k race. I already know that I can run 12.4 miles. But I didn't want to trudge through a boring, cold, predictable run on the boardwalk. Different scenery is good. Running amongst others makes longer distances seem shorter. And of course, I'm always up for a challenge. After all, I was on freakin' fire from last week's 10 mile race- I had a respectable new PR under my belt and I was ready to tackle 12.4. No sweat!

I never experienced a trail race before. I didn't think about it too much. I just figured I won't be first and I won't be last, so it's no big deal... When they handed me a trail map at registration, I actually said something like this and didn't even look at the map.

When the race begins, I realize that there are not that many people running the 20k. It can't be 100 people. I assume that the race was not adequately advertised so this is why. It's barely 40 degrees out and we are all bouncing and stretching at the start and finally, the race official says go! Only one mile in and the pack that I was in is already thinned out to maybe 4 people. I know my pace very well, and I realize that I am running a little too fast to have to keep this up for 11.4 more miles. So I hang back a bit and make sure I keep the guys that are just ahead of me within my sight line. This works out ok until the trail starts winding and there are times when I can't see them. I settle for the blur of their clothing through the brush and trees and this is how I navigate my way through these woods. There are no race officials anywhere to be seen. There are no water stops. We are climbing hills on paths that accommodate only one (thin) person. We are going over makeshift bridges that are 2 foot wide planks of wood. The downhill is just as dramatic as the uphill. This trail is not well marked and it's winding and to me, it's endless. And wouldn't you know it, I lost the blur of people ahead of me.

I can hear the people behind me. I realize that I am leading them. And I have no idea where I'm going. And I am not a woods kind of girl. I've never been here before, I don't know how big this park is, and I have no idea how to get out. We're at mile four and I see a guy ahead that has slowed down- no, he has practically stopped. I decide that this guy (even though he doesn't know it) is going to lead me through these woods. I already know that most guys don't like to be left in the dust ESPECIALLY by a small girl- and I am right. As soon as he sees me he picks up his pace. I chat with him and he even gives me a gatorade out of his backpack as we still have not seen a water station and we are approaching the last mile or so of the first loop.

As I type this, I am not giving enough emphasis to how utterly and purely relieved I am to have found someone to lead me through these woods. I have a genuine (though fairly irrational) fear of getting lost. I panic when I lose people in a store. I don't like "I'm going to this section, I'll be back in a few minutes" type shopping with people. I get a little scared when I can't find people I'm with. I'm still not giving this fear enough credit. Probably because I am having an issue with the idea of "speaking it" out and giving it power by admitting to it. Oh screw it. I have a fear of getting lost. It gives me anxiety. It's not paralyzing anxiety, but still, it weakens me. And I do not like when I make conscious efforts to give in to weakness. This fear of getting lost wins against me all the time. I don't go to grocery stores I am unfamiliar with. My fiance knows that he can't separate from me for too long when we are out anywhere. The absurd thing about this fear, is that I KNOW that if I "get lost" that nothing horrible is going to happen. I'm not afraid of getting abducted or anything wacky like that. I just have an unexplainable genuine anxiety when it comes to being alone or getting lost in unfamiliar places. I let this fear have power and strength over me. I allow it to limit my life. I have asked loved ones to work around it on my behalf. I ask them to cooperate with this fear and let it determine what we can and cannot do. Such a compromise is a personal failure to me.

I did not expect this failure to rear it's ugly head during a race. But here it is.

So I pace with this guy and we talk about... whatever... It's amazing how much you get to know a total stranger when you pair up and run with them. He tells me about his daughters. I tell him about my sons. He was/is a wrestling coach. He's an accountant of some sort. He's running the NYC Marathon (his first marathon) this year. We will both run the Jersey Shore Marathon Relay. I pull at any string I can find to keep the conversation going. He is worn out and tired and telling me that he is going to quit after the first loop. I gently encourage him to continue but I am careful not to be too insistent or too inconsiderate in my plea to have him continue this with me. I don't know this man well enough to insist or guilt or push him into continuing. He has no idea that I am dependent on him. He has no idea that he saved me from the fear that rules and always wins. Therefore, he sticks with his decision and he leaves the course after the first loop.

Now what do I do?

I find a new savior.

A well mannered guy in his mid 50's or so approaches and I pair myself up with him. With 6.2 miles behind me and a new partner, I'm ready to trudge on. In the very same fashion that I managed with the last guy, I become fast friends with this person and we chat through this run. My mind is at ease for most of the time. I know I can finish this crazy race. I'm ok with the fact that I'm not doing it in record speed. I don't have to lead. I don't have to strain to follow... Hey, wait.

I'm practically walking- just barely a jog. I'm not challenged at all, in fact. Keeping up with this man is TOO easy for me. I am not running. I'm not challenged. I'm just... meandering through the woods, really.

See that? The fear won. It took my purpose from me. It took my will and strength and my ability and my goal. In one quick flash, it took everything that I went out there for in the first place. I'm meandering the woods with a stranger. This is not why I came here. (Don't get me wrong, he's a nice person and all, and I respect him and his efforts incredibly. I'm just not into hanging out in the woods with strangers on the weekends, that's all...)

When my brain grasps this disappointing truth, I quietly acknowledge my own personal defeat. How did this happen? The fear isn't supposed to win. Not here. Not while I'm running. Running empowers me. And the fear squashed that without warning. I can't believe I let it win. I didn't even see it coming so it didn't occur to me to fight it. I submitted immediately. And now I am running (barely) really slow in the woods with a stranger. Anyone who knows me knows this is not on my top 100 list of ideal things to do on a Saturday. The fear that I opened the door to and allowed to invade my space is not giving me a choice. This is where I am.

I finish the race with this kind man. He even encourages me to sprint to the finish and allows me to finish ahead of him. Tee-riffic.

So now what? I have to do that race again. I need to defeat the fear. And I will. I don't like the woods. I don't like being alone in an unfamiliar place. I don't like getting lost. But most of all, I don't like letting fear rule my life, even in the slightest way. Fear will not rule my run. It stole this 20k from me. I have to take it back. That might sound silly to some people and that's fine.

2 Timothy 1:7 For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.