Escape to the lake! That was the only reasonable course of action by the end of a week that just kept getting hotter. I had to shuffle some things around based on travel and weather, but ended up getting all my planned workouts done. As of Sunday, July 1st, my race is 10 weeks away and I’m feeling good about how training is going – knock wood so I don’t jinx myself!
One more week of marathon training in the books. Twelve more weeks until race day! From here on out, it’s more marathon-specific training. This week featured a fun track workout, loads of running with friends, and the first time breaking 40 miles since the Donna marathon in February. Continue reading
Sometimes spontaneous social racing is the best. The Retiree suggested I come run the Spring Street Mile sponsored by his (our) club, the Manchester Running Company. It’s a downhill mile race. I have only raced a mile once in my life, four years ago, so that 7:19 PR felt particularly soft. To add to the fun, the Retiree and I managed to convince North Shore Strider to come to town on really short notice to join us. She’s fresh off a BQ marathon (WOOT!), so why not a speedy mile?
This week is mostly recovery from the Iron Horse half marathon which meant lower mileage and everything a bit easier. The Incredible Mervus was out of town so I had to juggle work time and running time and kid time. The end of their school year is so close that we can all taste it. And on Saturday, I raced a crazy downhill mile. But that’s it for races until Erie except for the Boilermaker, which will likely end up more as a training run. Here’s the details from the week: Continue reading
Memorial Day marked a halfway point. Fifteen weeks since my last marathon and fifteen weeks until my next one. I’m still really excited about training for Erie and this turned out to be a great week. It ended with a huge PR at the half marathon distance and a few days later, I’m still flying pretty high. Here’s how the week leading up to the race shook out.
The week started terribly with news that a dear friend had been hit with a car while running. I was angry and emotional a lot of the week. Then the weather heated up and my parents arrived for their annual dance recital visit. Despite all the craziness, training this week went really well!
Real life happened and I sort of dropped the training log habit, but now: It’s kick-off week! This is the first week of my training cycle for the Erie Marathon on September 9th. I’ve had a lot of fun with shorter distances this spring, but the marathon is where my heart is. It makes me a tad nervous to say it, but this is a serious BQ attempt, so let’s go!
I ran a 1:45:45 half marathon last weekend and I am still smiling. I can hardly believe I did that!
I can’t even remember why I signed up for this race, the Amica Iron Horse Half. I expect the Retiree suggested it because he was pacing the 1:45 group, but I can’t imagine I thought that was a reasonable goal when I registered several months ago. It was a good match from a scheduling standpoint though – about a month after my last half marathon in Redding, CT and just at the beginning of training for the Erie marathon in September. Maybe I signed up because it’s a fairly flat course? I’ve run Iron Horse once before, in 2013, with Fast Friend. That year was so hot, they sent extra ambulances to the race. I remember the color-coded signs changing from green to yellow to red while we were running and seeing people laid out with IVs at the finish line. I can’t remember very much else except feeling like the course was not all that interesting. For whatever reason, I signed up again this year.
I had been targeting Redding as my goal half for the spring, but then that course ended up much hillier than I expected. More than that, I just couldn’t get into a good head space for the race, no matter how hard I tried. I really didn’t want to sandbag the race, but I couldn’t figure out how to get my head on straight and I don’t feel great about how I ran it. That was frustrating, but it did mean I was much hungrier for a big PR going into Iron Horse.
A quick note about PRs. My best half prior to this spring was 1:52:44 at Hartford in October 2016. That was a solid race. I was well trained and I executed it well. The half is also the distance I know the best so unlike some of the other PRs I’ve set this spring, I didn’t regard my half time as soft. At Redding I ran 1:51:28. Better than Hartford for sure, but not the race I felt I was capable of. A look at my trusty race prediction calculators showed times around 1:46-1:47. But the Retiree was pacing 1:45…..Hmmmm.
I don’t know why I couldn’t fix my head for the Redding half, but I know I felt like I “took the deal.” When you’re racing pretty hard, your brain is going to start offering you bargains: You don’t want this that bad, this pace is not sustainable, you’ll do better if you slow down now and save something for the end, it’s pretty hot and there’s another race next month you could do instead, etc. At Redding it was: these women are running too fast for you – if you try to stay with them, you’ll blow up. I took the deal and slowed down and regretted it later. One of my main goals going into Iron Horse was not to take the deal.
It hasn’t been all that long since Redding so it’s not like my training has changed drastically in the last month. We did do a couple things differently though – between Redding and Iron Horse, I had two long runs of more than 13 miles. Between Donna and Redding, I had zero long runs of more than 13 miles. I do think for the half marathon distance, it helps a lot to run a few long runs longer than the race so I was glad to get those in. I also did hill sprints on Thursdays instead of longer intervals on the track, but this was really as early-stage marathon training. I like hill sprints but I can’t imagine they made much difference.
I don’t think the training was the most important difference between Redding and Iron Horse. And even though Iron Horse is a much easier course, I don’t think that was it either. The biggest difference was mental. I’ve been reading Deena Kastor’s new book, Let Your Mind Run, and it’s full of inspiration for “thinking your way to victory.” Deena writes about finding the positive in any given day and about the importance of confidence in your own abilities. Somehow in the week leading up to Redding, I let doubt sneak into my mind. I could feel it happening, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I fixed it for Iron Horse though.
Thursday afternoon before the race, I talked to Coach Mick. I told him straight up: I want to run with the Retiree. But also, that I felt pretty nervous about the idea. We talked about the possibility of things going wrong – if I went out too fast and ended up running 1:53, could I live with that? Yes, I could. Much better to take the risk than to take the deal. I didn’t want to be left wondering again what I might be capable of. I knew what I wanted to do, but Coach Mick helped me believe I could do it. He said the plan was aggressive but do-able and assured me he would tell me if he thought otherwise. By the time we were done talking, I felt a lot more confident.
With two more days until the race, I gathered more positive reinforcement. The Retiree was confident I could stay with him and I knew he would run a well-executed race. High Power Running Mentor #1 was also convinced I could run 1:45. He and the Retiree have engaged in a little mock-competition about which of them is the superior pacer. I will hold my judgement and say, I am astonishingly lucky to have two close friends with this skill who are willing to run with me. Sometimes the chips in life do fall your way and I hit the jackpot with my running friendships.
HPRM#1 and I have had a lot of conversations about pain. Running fast hurts; you can’t deny that. Runners develop complicated relationships with pain. The pain of a race is not entirely to be feared and certainly it won’t help to deny it. Coach Mick talks about bracing yourself for it, knowing the pain is coming and being ready for it. To a certain extent, we runners welcome the pain – it’s a sign we are doing things right. HPRM#1 offered one of his mantras: “This is what you came for.” That’s true and I didn’t want to miss it. I re-read Sarah Crouch’s essay, “Stigmata.” The pain is how we know we’re alive. Sometimes the pain is even a path to God. Deep stuff.
The weather report for race day was pretty favorable. Upper 50s at the start with humidity higher than desirable, around 80%, but dropping, and some cloud cover. Not the most perfect weather, but given that the Retiree and I individually tend to get more than our allotted share of hot races, we expect near apocalyptic conditions whenever we show up on a race course together. This was far from apocalyptic.
One logistical complication of this race was that the Incredible Mervus was not going to be there. His supportive presence at races this spring has been incredible indeed. But – from a purely practical standpoint – he was leaving town so I lacked child care. Luckily Snarky Girl came through, as she always does, and took both kids for a sleepover the night before the race. I’ve been having bizarre worries about what to eat the night before a long run lately so I just fell back on my pre-marathon meal of whole wheat pasta, tomato sauce, broccoli and vegetarian sausage. Simple and tasty. The Incredible Mervus was still here so we enjoyed a rare meal at home together sans children. When we spotted a coyote in the backyard, he said it was my spirit animal for the race. I got to bed really early.
The predicted weather was unchanged race day morning. I had gotten everything ready the night before, including my brand new On Your Mark Coaching singlet. I’ve been begging Coach Mick to get this project organized for months and I’m so happy the singlets arrived on time for Iron Horse. I did not have time to take one for a test run but I wore it around on Saturday and it was comfortable and moved well. Even though I generally am pretty rigorous about nothing new on race day, this seemed low risk and I went for it. I just wanted so damn bad to wear that shirt!
It’s funny to remember last fall when I was so out of practice with racing that I wasn’t sure what to do. Now it’s like clockwork again. Get up, make coffee, make oatmeal, gather stuff, take care of potty business, etc. HMRP#1 was up insanely early so I texted with him a little, said good bye to Mervus and drove to the race. It was cold. I didn’t want to take my long sleeve shirt off! I took my 5 hour energy shot, went to packet pick-up, and found the Retiree. I texted hello and good luck to Rooster and Teacher Runner for the 10K. Ghostie popped up so we did the warm-up mile together, which was lovely. In just an hour, it had gotten much warmer. The clouds had cleared and now I was comfortable in my singlet instead of freezing in my long sleeves. I worried a little about this development – no one can blame me for being gun shy when it comes to heat – but the weather report had said it wasn’t getting hotter and I chose to believe it. Positive attitude, all the way.
At the starting line there was some jostling and joking around, as usual. We found Sue from the Middletown 10 miler. They sent the wheelchairs off and just like that, it was our turn. I had tried to formulate this whole race as taking care of business and even though I was nervous, it also felt like that. I told both Coach Mick and HPRM#1 that I was tired of being a 1:5x half marathoner and ready to be a 1:4x half marathoner. This was a task that needed to be taken care of. Just get it done. I have worked hard and earned this and I just needed to check the official race box. I was convinced I could run sub 1:50 and it was just a question of finding out how low in the 1:40s I could go – I intended to get as low as possible. My confidence level could hardly have been different from Redding.
In terms of watch-watching – something I have thought about and written about – I had originally planned to check mile splits even though I would be with the Retiree and I knew we would be on pace. My theory had been to use this as sort of exposure therapy. I intend to look at my watch during Erie and this was my last major race before Erie because the weather is surely about to get hot. But trying to figure out my “watch technique” had really messed with my head at Redding and I didn’t like what I did. This time around Coach Mick suggested not overthinking it [Hahahahaha! He clearly momentarily forgot who he was talking to….]. After telling the Retiree that I was going to check splits and not to worry – it was practice and exposure therapy, not doubting his pacing – I decided against it. Coach Mick said, just rely on him, it’s one fewer thing to think about, and I liked that plan. While I was with the Retiree, I only peeked once and it was to check which mile we were in, not pace.
Ghostie decided to run with the other pacer so our little crew turned out to be me, the Retiree, and Sue. Sue was in the mood for chit-chat and she and the Retiree talked about this and that. I was pretty focused right from the beginning. It wasn’t so much that the running was hard as that I didn’t have a lot of extra head space for banter. Like most runners, the Retiree occasionally gets down on himself more than he needs to and I chimed in at those moments to correct the record. Otherwise I was happy to listen to them chatter about past races, the course, future plans.
By about mile 3 or 4, I started to feel like I was working. Some of that might have been adrenaline. No matter how much I told myself I was just checking off a box, taking care of business, etc etc – the fact is, I was still starting this race with the goal of an absolutely massive PR. We started much faster than I have ever started a half before. Often I’ve enjoyed the first five miles or so of a half marathon, or even a few more than that, before the real work starts. This race was more like a few miles of focus followed by a lot of miles of work. One of the number one things I’ve learned from running shorter races with pacers this spring is this: I need to start faster. It’s a strange lesson for a marathoner and I don’t know if it applies to the 26.2 distance, but for the half or anything shorter, it’s clearly paying off.
By mile 4 I was already wondering if I was going to be able to stick with the Retiree for the whole race. Or, to be more accurate, I was fairly certain I was not going to be able to stick with him, and was wondering exactly how long I could hold on for. I figured I had better at least make it until mile 5, anything less than that seemed ridiculous. Somewhere around mile 5, he asked how I was doing. I said, I’m working. He said, a little work is not a bad thing. As an aside, that’s a great comment for a pacer to make. He acknowledged that this was not a walk in the park for me, but also that really everything was fine. It’s supposed to be work. I had not expected it to be as much work so early in the race. After mile 5, I took it mile by mile. Every mile that went by, I just thought, good, that’s another one down. Let’s do one more. Hang on for one more. Hang on to get to the halfway mark. I had been expecting a timing mat there so Coach Mick and friends would know how I was doing, but there wasn’t one. I honestly thought – they’ll get the halfway split when I’m on pace and then they won’t know I am going to fall apart until it’s over. Eek – it was not positive thinking 100% of the time. There was a timing mat at 8 miles when the course goes back through the start/finish line and I was still with the Retiree and still on pace.
I told the Retiree after the race that this was going to be a short race report, which is clearly not true! But I have little to say about the course. It was not perfectly flat, as had been promised, but it was much flatter than Middletown and the “hills” were no big deal. The Retiree and Sue chatted sometimes. We passed the 10K people coming back and I saw Rooster and Teacher Runner and waved and said hi. The Retiree quipped: “Too much energy wasted!” Me in my head: “Cheering for other people is supposed to give you energy – that is what both Deena Kastor and Desi Linden seem to be saying! – but I don’t have enough air to talk about this so we will discuss it later. Anyway, just listen to him – he is temporarily in charge here. Don’t tell him that though, he’ll get an even bigger head than he already has.” That was probably the most interesting conversation of the entire race and only his half of it was out loud.
Otherwise, I got this, over and over again:
Brain: Ok, that’s about it. You’ve held this pace as long as you can. It’s time to back off. Switch to 8:20s. That will feel so much better. Maybe even 9s, that would feel wonderful.
Sarah: No, I am not taking the deal this time. Stick with the Retiree. Stay at 8:00.
Brain: This is hard. This is harder than you thought it would be. You will blow up if you keep doing this.
Sarah: It’s supposed to be hard. This is what I came for. I want this. I do NOT want your fucking deal.
Brain: Maybe the Retiree’s pace is too hot. This feels pretty fast.
Sarah: He is not too fast. Coach Mick said I have this in me and I do. I am fine right now. Right this minute, I am running 8:00 and it is fine. Worry about what happens later, later. Hold steady for one more mile and then re-assess.
Brain: I dunno, do you want to be walking later?
Sarah: Shut up! No fucking deal! The Retiree would have to report that to HPRM#1 and how would that be? [This line of thinking strikes me as both inspiring and somewhat hilarious. I have really let these guys inside my head. They might as well know it, if they don’t already, which I am sure they do….]
Sarah, still: No fucking deal. I. Have. Got. This. This is what I came for.
It was pretty much that, over and over, from about mile 4 until about mile 10. Interrupted only very briefly by occasional chatter. By remembering to take my Gu at mile 3 and forgetting (!) at mile 6, but having it at mile 8. By grabbing water at water stops. By the comforting sight of the safety signs staying green. Somewhere around mile 7, I turned on my music, which definitely helped. At mile 9, I barked out “TALK!” and the Retiree chuckled and started rambling. But my effort level had risen from 10K pace to at least 5K pace and even with only 5K left to go, I was pretty sure I was about to lose contact with the pace group. That happened at 10.27 miles, to be exact, because that’s when I finally looked at my watch for the second time during the race.
There was a different voice coming at me now, not my brain, but my legs, which weren’t responding how they had been even as I yelled at them. Ok, time for phase two. This will sound more premeditated than it was, but it worked better than expected. The 8:20 idea wasn’t random. An 8:20 pace yields a 1:50 half marathon and my number one goal was to get under 1:50. I was pretty sure that I would lose the Retiree at some point. I figured if I stuck with him as long as I could and then only backed off to 8:20, I would still be under 1:50. So when I lost contact with the pace group, assuming he was on pace – which he was – I knew that even if I ran 3 miles at 8:20, it would only add a minute or so to my time, so still 1:46 and change. I felt good because I had hung on longer than I thought I could. I also suddenly flashed to a discussion I had had with HPRM#1 after Redding. I had been running with two women in that race and then I let them get away from me and well out of my sight. HPRM#1 said it’s hard to know whether to stick with people in that situation, but you can try to keep them in view. That’s what I had done with a runner at Sprint into Spring and it had gone much better. The Retiree and Sue were both in neon yellow so it was easy to spot them when the course was straight. I tried to keep them in sight.
Now I was on my own for pacing and I knew I still had a couple of hills to manage and a stretch through some fields that might be hot. I had hoped to hang on through mile 11 because of this, but it just wasn’t happening. I am completely satisfied that I didn’t take the deal – I gave what I had to give. Now I had to handle the fields and the hills alone. The fields came first and I could still see the pace group inching ahead of me. But the sun was much less bad than predicted so this segment was really fine. [Side note: I am totally channeling Deena here! My brain was re-framing everything to find the positive angle. Go me!]
At mile 11, I started counting. I usually try to put this off until the last mile, but here, I needed it earlier. I know it takes me about a 500 count to run a mile and I figured: I can do anything for a count of 1000. I won’t say this section of the race was easy, but it was differently hard. It was a relief not to have to keep up with the Retiree. I was in charge of pace now and I looked at the watch a few times, to be sure I wasn’t slower than 8:20. The first mile split I saw was 8:06. Not bad at all! Just those 5-6 seconds a mile slower were also making a huge difference in how I felt. Instead of panicking and feeling despair that I was losing the pace group, I felt a kind of lightness. 8:06 felt so fantastically much better than 8:00. Instead of their chatter plus my music, I now had just my music plus my counting. The road here had a steep camber so I focused on running on the yellow divider line where it was flatter. I was so focused that a couple of times I almost ran right into the cones dividing the runners from traffic.
For the last two miles, I counted. I thought, this is what I came for. I tried to find God on the road at the end of a long, hard race and maybe I did, just a little. No more pace group. No external voices. Just me, and God, and my music, and that double yellow line, stretching on, hopefully not for forever, but just for a count of 1000. I saw a clock that said 1:32:xx or possibly 1:35:xx and I suppose that must have been at the 12 mile marker. I saw another one at 1:42:xx and I suppose that was the 13 mile marker. My math skills were pretty much zero and I didn’t have a ton of confidence that the mile markers were placed correctly anyway. But when I saw the finishing clock at 1:45:30, that was clear enough. I found a bit of a kick for the last few yards after all and I knew when I was done that I had run 1:45:xx. YES YES YES!
1:45:45!
I crossed the line absolutely elated. I was sad Mervus wasn’t there but the Retiree more or less caught me and I didn’t knock him over. Why-Not was handing out medals and it was an extreme honor that she gave me mine. The Retiree got me some water and I sat on a railing for a bit catching my breath. Ghostie was there and some other folks from the Manchester Running Company. I like this gang a LOT and I was just over the moon with happiness about the run. The only drawback of the MRC folks is they don’t seem to hug enough so I started working to break them out of that. Every time I remembered my time it was like a new jolt of happiness coursed through me. THIS is how it feels to run a really great race!
Always great to get a medal from Why-Not
Happy Half Marathoners: Ghostie, the Retiree (as happy as he gets), Me
Celebrating with the Manchester Running Company!
Once I caught my breath, we went and checked the results for the official time: 1:45:45! 5th in age group! Then I got my bag so I could call Coach Mick and Mervus. I shoved some of the post-race food onto a plate and somehow ended up eating it. Then I forced out a slow cool down mile and did a little stretching. We had settled on Ana’s Kitchen for our post-race brunch and it was excellent. The only drawback was that they don’t have a liquor license so no post-race mimosa. I took care of that on the way home though and had one on the porch while talking with HPRM#1 on the phone. Snarky Girl brought back the kids and proposed dinner out and who am I to argue with that idea? And if we had cosmos instead of mimosas, I can live with that as well.
Remote toast with HPRM#1
Actual toast with Snarky Girl
I will be smiling about this race for a long time to come. More than any other race this spring, I understand what a 1:45:xx half marathon means about the kind of runner I am becoming. It’s been a long road and a lot of work, with more to come. But the payoff is even sweeter than I imagined it being. Bring on Erie.
The Last Word with High Power Running Mentor #1. Who gets the last word?
Life got *super* busy with the end of the semester, travel, and racing, oh my! I haven’t done a training log in five whole weeks! But of course, I’ve been training so here’s what I’ve been up to. This three weeks takes us from the weather insanity of the Boston marathon, through a 10K race, a trip to Chicago, a little heatwave, and a humid half marathon. Whew!
Monday, 4/16, Boston Marathon Spectating!
Standing and cheering for hours in the wind and rain – best workout there is! Maybe…..more on this experience forthcoming when I get past the PTSD.
Tuesday, 4/17, Morning Crew – Stamina Intervals, 2 miles WU, 4×1200 @6:10 w/400 recovery, 1 mile CD
I am loving these track workouts. These were a little faster than planned at first so I worked to slow down a bit. I’m also practicing keeping my pace as consistent as possible for each 200m section. It’s incredibly satisfying to click these off. 1200s came out at: 5:47; 5:52; 5:57; 5:56.
Wednesday, 4/18, Lunch Crew – 4 easy miles (9:21 pace), plus weights
Usual run from the gym. Kept it pretty chill.
Thursday, 4/19, Morning Crew – Easy 6 miles (8:55 pace)
Second time running the Sprint into Spring 10K course. I wanted to go run those hills again. 10K coming up on Sunday!
Friday, 4/20, Morning Crew – Easy 6.5 (8:40 pace)
We are gradually sneaking the pace a little faster on easy runs. It totally blows my mind that I can run 6 miles at 8:40 and call it easy. I can remember struggling to hold HALF a mile at 8:40. Crazy.
Saturday, 4/21, Morning Crew – 2 miles plus strides
Usual pre-race run. I like to do this in the cul-de-sacs near my house. Feeling good!
Sunday, 4/22, Sprint into Spring 10K (plus 1 mile WU and 1.5 miles CD)
Eek! New 10K PR of 48:00! Plus third woman overall! What is going on??? See race report for details!
Total: 34 miles
Lots of running with friends this week! Met my local buddies on Tuesday and then some not-so-local buddies in Chicago. Running friendships really are in a special category all their own.
Monday, 4/23, Morning Crew – 2100 swim
We All Love 50s – Favorite swim workout right now!
Tuesday, 4/24, Early Morning Crew – 5 easy miles (9:29 pace)
Lovely girlfriend run with Teacher Runner and Blue Turtle. We ended up with perfect negative splits, always fun when that happens. It’s so good to catch up with everyone.
Wednesday, 4/25, Lunch Crew – 4 easy miles (8:48 pace) plus weights
I felt extremely peppy today and this might have been my fastest outing on this course. It is SO GREAT to be able to do these four miles outside in decent weather instead of battling the snow or dealing with the treadmill.
Thursday, 4/26, Lunch Crew – Stamina Intervals, 2 miles WU, 4×1 mile @ 8:00 w/400 jog recovery, 1 mile CD
I seriously could not be happier about how this went. It was 55 degrees and a little humid, but things just totally clicked into place and I felt like a metronome. Part of me felt like I could just keep doing this indefinitely. Very fun and a big confidence booster. Split times: 7:56; 7:57; 8:01; 7:58. I’m incredibly pleased (and a little surprised!) that I could keep them that even.
Friday, 4/27, Early Morning Crew – 6 easy miles (8:51 pace)
I went to Chicago for a girls weekend, but of course, I also wanted to meet up with High Power Running Mentor #1 for a run. He showed up head-to-toe in Tracksmith just to make me jealous of his running wardrobe. We had a great jaunt on the 606, a fabulous running trail through Chicago. He promised not to run me into the ground and he didn’t. The somewhat more uptempo pace was entirely my fault.
Saturday, 4/28, Early Morning Crew – 6 easy miles (11:30 pace) 
Just about nine years ago, a woman I call Tiny Dynamo convinced me to start running. This weekend she convinced me to come to Chicago for a spur-of-the-moment visit. Thank goodness she has great ideas, since she is so persuasive! Phenomenal to run with her this morning!
Sunday, 4/29, Early Morning Crew – 9 miles, first 6 at 8:45-9:00, last 3 at 8:30-8:45
Back to the 606 for solo 9 miles. This is such a great trail for running!
Total: 38 miles
Back home after my Chicago adventures, I spent this week wrapping the semester up at work and getting ready for the Redding half marathon next Sunday.
Monday, 4/30, Morning Crew – Swim 2100
March Madness workout with JJ. Lots of travel. I am tired. Swimming is good. Same old, same old.
Tuesday, 5/1, Early Morning Crew – Cruise Intervals, 2 miles warm up, 4×800 @4:00 w/400m jog recovery, 1 mile cool down
Lots of fun at the track. Teacher Runner and Rooster were both there. My girlfriends have kept Track Tuesday alive and kicking in my absence. Hope to join them more in the future!
Wednesday, 5/2, Lunch Crew – 3 miles easy plus weights
Stupid hot today. 85 degrees and who knows what humidity. This is a full 40 degrees warmer than yesterday’s track workout. Get it together Mother Nature. Went to PT to work on results of gait analysis, but not sure that is going anywhere at the moment.
Thursday, 5/3, Morning Crew – 4 miles easy (8:48 ave pace)
It’s still kind of stupid hot, though 75 is better than 85. Ran with Snarky Girl and had a good snark session.
Friday, 5/4, Morning Crew – 4 miles progression run, descending 8:53 to 8:02
I was supposed to do 4 easy miles but the humidity hasn’t broken yet and I’m a bit worried about weather on race day. I just wanted to get a feel for faster running with these conditions. Not terrible, not brilliant.
Saturday, 5/5, Morning Crew – 2 miles easy plus strides
Usual pre-race routine. The weather is somewhat better but changing a lot. We shall see what tomorrow brings!
Sunday, 5/6, Redding Half Marathon – Run For The Cows!
New half marathon PR of 1:51:28, but a race that left me with a lot of questions. See race report for details.
Total: 33 miles
Last Sunday I ran the Run for the Cows Half Marathon in Redding, CT and I’ve been mulling on it ever since. I ran a PR of 1:51:28, but I had been hoping for under 1:50, potentially a good bit under 1:50. A PR is a PR and of course I am happy about that. But I also want to figure out what happened. Was this a case of mission creep? A harder course than expected? Not enough mileage? Unwillingness to face the race demons? Maybe some of all of that. Racing can be a learning experience and I’m working on the lessons from this one.
Why did I decide to run this crazy cow race anyway? Rashi couldn’t stop raving about it. Lots of cool swag. A pretty course. A race director with a big personality. A race with a home-town feel but all the amenities. We worked out a kind of swap – I would do Redding if she signed on for Erie. Let me state for the record – I knew this was a ridiculous swap at the time, even if she didn’t. I committed to an in-state half marathon in exchange to her committing to a destination full marathon. That’s not close to an even trade and if she has to bail on Erie, no hard feelings. Redding did look like a good race. In fact, it looked ideal for Snarky Girl so I convinced her to sign up as well. This race sells out so we all registered on January 1st.
Fast forward to spring race planning post-Donna Marathon. High Power Running Mentor #1 kept telling me to run more short races and apparently a half marathon doesn’t count as “short”. I added the bunny race 5K in Chicago and a local 10K plus my hometown race, the Middletown 10 miler. Now I had a spring schedule with a smorgasbord of distances, four races in a six week period, plus three weekends out of town. No wonder my house is a bit of a mess!
Flat Sarah ready to go
The first three post-Donna races this spring were big PRs, bigger than I expected, to be honest, and that boosted my expectations for Redding. The goal of jumping from my old PR of 1:52:44 to 1:50:00 was already ambitious, but the various calculators and some folks in my inner running circles were saying maybe I should even be thinking something pretty far south of 1:50. Times like 1:45-1:46 may have been batted around. Then as race day approached, it looked like we would have high humidity and Coach Mick suggested that might call for a more conservative approach. I have been trying to run without fear and to start more aggressively. But the hills on the course are truly insane. How fast should I start? Should I run without looking at my watch? #nowatchme worked well for my two half marathons last fall. In listening to me yammer on about this, HPRM#1 said I was looking for excuses to sandbag this race. Suddenly the hills seemed bigger. The weather felt more problematic. 1:45 felt absurd. We worked through some of that, but I was left with lingering doubts. I texted with Coach Mick about “Trying Not To Suck,” my half marathon mantra from the fall. On the morning of the race, I got encouraging texts from both Coach Mick and HPRM#1. The Incredible Mervus also offered lots of support, as he always does. But what would happen during the race? I sort of let go of expectations, for good or for ill. It just felt too hard to predict.
Snarky Girl and I drove to the race together. We passed the hospital where Rose was born and had a long chat about our birth experiences. It reminded me of running the Providence Marathon together when we spent so much time talking about how we met our husbands. Racing together is such a great opportunity to deepen friendship and I’m so lucky to have my running friends in my life.
Amazing Swag!
We arrived at the race just after 7am, having seen some of the course on the way in. Gorgeous! Through the woods, often along a stream, and yes, very hilly, as promised. Also as promised, incredible swag. You get a shirt, but also a hat, a tin cup, some chapstick, a sticker, and a cowbell, plus there was a huge spread of food, including chocolate milk. We sampled a little but mostly held off until after the race. I had had my usual race day (really every day…) oatmeal at home and I had the Five Hour Energy Shot once we got parked. We got our bibs and found Rashi and she and I did a warm up jog around the field they were using for parking. We had to rush back from our warm-up during the Star Spangled Banner, which I didn’t like at all. That’s the one little piece of Suck that kind of snuck into the process, but it wasn’t a big deal.
Just before lining up, I got separated from Snarky Girl and Rashi in the porta-potty zone. I would have liked to line up with them but I couldn’t find them and I went more to the front. This made no difference in outcome but it would have been fun to stand with them. They blew a vuvuzela to start the race and we ran a loop around the fields. I’m sure this makes for good spectating because the cheer squad can see the runners spread out along the farm and I bet it’s lovely. For actual running, it’s not brilliant. Running on grass on a rainy morning meant our feet were even wetter than they had been. There’s also a hill (of course there’s a hill) and it felt kind of like half a mile of not being able to establish a pace, but whatever. I glanced at my watch once and it said 7:15. Oops. Way too fast so I slowed a little as we left the farm and headed out to the roads.
Start of the race – photo from race website
My race plan had been to start at 8:20 pace and see how that felt. The first five miles are a very gradual uphill with several small rollers. Deceptively hard because you can’t perceive the gradual uphill but it’s surely there. I knew the quick start on the farm would also mean the first mile was pretty meaningless so I decided not to check pace and just go by effort. Early in the race, I glanced at my watch a few times, but it was clear the instant pace information was useless. I know the instant pace is often off, but especially with the constant up and down and probably less-than-ideal satellite connections, this was just garbage information all the time. In retrospect, though, I wish I had checked mile splits. I think knowing how things were going might have helped me adjust my goals more consciously. I would have known earlier that 1:45 was ridiculously out of reach on this course, but maybe held onto the sub 1:50 goal for longer. Live and learn, or I guess, race and learn.
Despite mostly not looking at my watch, I caught the four mile split by accident: 8:46. That’s a bit too bad because it’s one of my slowest. But even when I saw it, I knew that mile had both a big hill and a Gu stop so it would be slower. Still. I kind of wish I had either not seen any splits or seen all of them rather than just that one.
As we got into the rhythm of the race, I started to recognize the people around me. In particular, there were two women who looked to be about my age. I’ve started to check times for age group placements for races. This is still a weird activity to me and one that feels unnatural but I’m doing it nonetheless. After all, I was 2nd in my age group at the 5K bunny race, 4th in age group at the 10 miler, and 2nd in age group at the 10K. That’s somewhere in the top four for each of those races. I’m not going to hide it. I LOVE being able to place. This is complete terra incognita for me and I plan to enjoy it. I might even search out some tiny races at some point just to see if I can win stuff. The idea that I might win anything at all for a footrace completely blows my mind. But for Redding – I knew that anything under 1:50 might get me into top three in my age group, or at least top five, and I would love that. I didn’t know who these women were, but I wondered if I could hang with them.
I did hang with them for quite awhile. They clearly knew each other. One was tall and thin and did not seem to be working all that hard. The other was shorter and muscular and she sometimes fell behind. I never got ahead of tall-and-thin, but I could pass short-and-muscular on the downhills, where I was faster. She always came chugging back though and passed me on flats or uphills. I was working hard to stay with these ladies and I started to wonder if I was working too hard. It was only 5-6 miles into the race. My effort was more like “sentence” rather than 1.5-2 sentences. I was keeping up. But I also felt like their presence was starting to mess with my mind. Was I trying too hard to stay with them? Was that a good idea or a terrible one? I really didn’t know. Around the halfway mark, I decided to let them go. In retrospect, was that a mistake? Maybe sticking with them would have carried me through? No way to know. Race and learn.
Just before the halfway mark, there’s an absolutely massive descent. You can see this on the course map but wow, running down it is still bonkers. The road switches from paved to dirt and you sort of drop off the face of the earth in terms of running down that hill. In any case, I explicitly avoided getting my time at the halfway mark. I’ve run plenty of half marathons and I can do halfway split x 2 math even when pretty fatigued, but that was information I really did not want. Therefore I was halfway through the race without much of a clue as to how it was going.
This race has lots of funny signs along the way with pictures of cows and they also count down the hills for you, all 15 of them. Right after the big descent, a sign said something like, miles 7-10 are either downhill or flat. Looking back at my splits, I clearly felt worse than I was running. My splits say I was back under 8:20 pace after the big downhill, but my head kept saying “When is this going to be over with?” I had promised Coach Mick that I was going to run with joy, but I did not really manage that. Unfortunately, I ran with a good deal of frustration instead. The things I often think of to lift my spirits: my daughter Rose, being able to run healthy, uplifting songs on my trusty iPod shuffle – I didn’t really remember any of that stuff. Instead my brain was sort of locked on an internal debate. In Coach Mick’s facebook group we had had a discussion about running with fear versus running stupid. Do you have to be stupid sometimes to find the place of running without fear? I had proposed that yes, you do. I even wrote “God loves idiots” on the back of my bib along with one of HPRM#1’s favorite slogans: “Do. Work.” I was certainly “Doing Work” but I don’t know that I was doing it all that effectively because I couldn’t get my brain away from the debate of whether I was running stupid or not. I think I spent a lot of mental energy at this race trying to commit to some strategy or another and not really being able to. I had wanted to run a bit stupid or run without fear and I don’t think I managed either of those things, but I am not sure why. Race and learn.
I want to give a shout out here to my friend the Fat Man [I kind of can’t bear using that name, but HE PICKED IT!]. When we talked about his recent half marathon, he said he wasn’t that miserable at mile 9. That’s how I know he could have run it even faster than he did – and he got a massive PR! At mile 9 in my race, I was already pretty miserable, but with only four miles to go, I wondered if I could pick it up a little?
Before I could answer that question, the game changed or really, the course changed. We had been running for miles on a paved two-lane road through a forest. The road wasn’t closed to traffic, but there were barely any cars and runners were well distributed. I was never alone but it certainly wasn’t crowded. Then there was a sign at the bottom of a hill (of course) that said something like: 10 miles – The Race Starts Here. Ha ha ha, I thought, yeah, the last three miles of a half marathon are always the hardest. But for this course, that was genuinely true. The course left the paved road and shifted to a wide gravel trail. It was narrower than the road had been and we also caught up to the early start folks – the race lets slower runners start the half 45 minutes ahead of time. Suddenly we had twice as many people on a road half as wide and the hills started again.
All of this combined to shift my head, though I am not sure whether in a good way or a bad way. I was really tired and kind of over the whole thing. I could feel myself slowing down, but since I hadn’t been looking at my watch, I had no real idea of how fast I had been going anyway. I decided I had better change my approach. If racing is like a battle with your demons, this is the moment when I said, ok demons, we are all done boxing. I am not doing well with boxing today. This is a fencing match now, so find yourself a freaking blade and let’s go.
I resolved that I wasn’t going to look at the watch anymore at all, but also that if I could establish something that felt like a comfortably hard tempo pace, that had to be good enough. This was another moment of mentally and physically easing my foot off the gas pedal a bit – it is what Sarah Bowen Shea of Another Mother Runner has called “taking the deal.” Tempo effort is not race effort. I don’t feel great about this choice. On the other hand, I did get to a happier place. I decided instead of fretting about pace, I would start counting people I had passed. I would count up for people I passed and down for people who passed me to arrive at a net tally and hope to end up positive.
I got to 30 people before anyone passed me at all. I decided to aim for 50 people passed. Then thought, maybe I can get to 100 people passed? All this time we were running on this damn path through the forest and it was beautiful if kind of crowded. I wish I could report that I found joy, but that would be a lie. I found some grit and that will have to do this time around. Miles 11 and 12 are 9:20 and 9:33 and having just run 3 consecutive races at a sub-8 average pace, that’s disappointing. Finally we got to the bottom of a never-ending hill, turned around to climb back up and then off the path and back onto the road. I was at over 100 people passed already and my final tally by the end of the race was 130! How many people are even in this race? (Answer: 505 for the half marathon; 450 for the 7 miler).
At the 12 mile marker I thought – ok, let’s sneak a peek at the watch after all. 1:42:xx. Jesus, I’m not even going to manage under 1:50? What the actual hell? Then I thought – wait, a mile to go and 8 minutes. Maybe I can pull out an 8 minute mile and at least be close. FINALLY I picked up the pace, only to be confronted with yet another hill. Oof. Really, Redding Half people? IS THAT NECESSARY? Oh, and another tiny hill and another one again? Sheesh. But this mile is overall a huge net downhill and I finally found some fire at the end. Most of the downhill sections of this mile are sub-7 pace and the last mile of the race was my fastest at 8:07. At the end, you turn around a corner and run through a barn and I spotted Mervus and the kids and gunned it for the finish line, but I could see the clock – 1:51 and change. No sub 1:50. Damn. At least a PR.
You get a carnation at the end of this race and the medal and some water. All I really wanted was to find the Incredible Mervus.
I handed him all my stuff and just wrapped my arms around him and cried a little and tried to catch my breath. I gasped out “That was so freaking hard.” I just needed to stay like that for a bit and pull myself together. Finally I was ready for him to put my medal on me, to drink some water, and to sit in the chair that Aidan had been using. Mervus asked me how the conversation with the demons had gone – I said, today we agreed to disagree.
By then Snarky Girl and Rashi were also done. We collected our troops, enjoyed some pizza and chocolate milk, and I presented my flower to Rose. I did a cool down mile around the parking lot and we piled into our cars for brunch at the Early Bird Café. The only shortcoming of the Early Bird was no mimosas, but we made up for that later that night at home.
I’ve been thinking about this race a lot this week. It’s good to experiment and sometimes you try things and they don’t work out. I managed most of the business of Trying Not To Suck, that is, controlling the controllables, so I feel good about that. If my main goal was a really fast half marathon, I would probably need to run higher mileage prior to the race. But my main goal is a fast marathon, and the past few weeks have partly been a break between marathon training cycles. A chance for body and mind and life-schedule to recover. Of course, I still got a PR even if I didn’t meet my goal time. Mostly I am learning that I want to learn how to race better. Next time around, I would keep better track of how the race was going. I hope I get better at not taking the deal and at racing without fear. I’m not there yet, but more races ahead means more chances to experiment.
