See Sarah Run

Wow. What a race!

Earlier this spring, when Coach Mick and I were planning out the race schedule, I got the idea that it might be possible to break 50 minutes for the 10K. I haven’t run a lot of 10Ks. Ok – I have run ONE stand-alone 10K in 80 degree weather and twice I ran the 10K directly following the 5K as part of the Runners’ World Festival. I suspected my 54:33 PR was pretty soft, but 50 minutes seemed like a reach. Not impossible, but the right amount of challenge. 10K isn’t a very common race distance and some of the races I found didn’t fit well with my overall training schedule but then I came across the Sprint into Spring 10K right next door in Middlefield, CT. The race starts and finishes in Peckham Park, a frequent destination for playground time for the kids. Perfect. Snarky Girl signed up too. More perfect.

Coming off two pretty big PRs in the last month, I was starting to feel some confidence that my time at the Donna marathon really was a combination of heat and a bad day at the office. Rose is even starting to talk about “MY PR MAMA!” But I went and ran the course twice for training runs and it is hilly. Very hilly. So, you never know.

Last weekend I went to Boston to cheer and to be honest, it was a little traumatic. The expo was incredibly fun and massive. Hanging out with Coach Mick and his wife and a bunch of his runners was amazing. Staying with Corgi Speedster was a blast. Watching the race was hard. I didn’t mind so much getting wet and cold myself, but watching the runners and especially the wheelchair racers – I have rarely seen that kind of suffering. Everyone has been processing the insanity that was Boston 2018 this week, including me. But when I asked Coach Mick if he would do it over again in the exact same weather conditions, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. HPRM #1 said he would run Boston on hot coals every step of the way. I knew better than to ask the Retiree this question but even he seems to be recovering from his Boston trauma. So maybe even something as awful as Boston 2018 can be a survival story. Even Des Linden said, “If it hadn’t been as difficult, it probably wouldn’t mean as much.”

In texting with Coach Mick before the race, we talked about splitting the difference between the Bunny race at a 7:35 pace and the Middletown 10 miler at a 7:55 pace. 7:45 seemed reasonable for a 10K. I also sought advice from a bunch of people about how to approach hills. My takeaway was a collection of three short phrases: A posture cue from Coach Mick about leaning slightly into the hill on the uphill – break the tape; fast feet on the downhill – like Roadrunner; take advantage of the flats, Coach Mick described this as “goose it” which made me chuckle. Break the tape, Roadrunner, Goose it.

The night before the race, my gang went over to Snarky Girl’s house to watch an episode of Sherlock. I took my new R8 roller and my Rubz spiky ball because I’m allowed to be total runner-freak girl at her place. I love these evenings with our families flopped all over their living room together. We decided to carpool to the race with the running moms heading over earlier and the support crew dads coming after a bit.

The next morning was the usual oatmeal and coffee routine. Plus the 5 hour energy shot, which Nutrition Guy recommended, and plenty of water. I was nervous but just kept sort of shaking my hands out and telling myself to relax. Snarky Girl picked me up at 6:45 as planned. On the drive there, we discovered a little segment they had added to the course – a short out and back in the middle of the second downhill.

At the park, we got our bibs and our shirts and I roped Snarky Girl into a mile warmup and did a few drills. Our hubbies arrived with the kids in tow. The park has a great playground making this an awesome race for families.

Nervous or focused?

I was quite nervous before the race, but kept remembering what Coach Mick had texted me. It will get HARD, like the 5K and the 10K were hard, but you have trained for hard and you are ready. I did feel ready! I lined up right in front! There was no timing mat for the start and I knew I wanted to start fast, so that’s where I went. One thing I have learned from the last two races, being paced by HPRM #1 and the Retiree, is that I probably need to start faster. I have been a conservative starter because I’m always afraid of falling apart at the end, but you give up time that way and I was pretty sure I needed to get out of the gate more quickly. If that meant I bonked at the end, so be it. HPRM #1 has called it an experiment. Just see what happens with a quicker start.

They buzzed us out with an air horn and off we went. I had spotted someone from the Manchester Running Company, the Retiree’s running club, while I was warming up. I just signed up so I introduced myself in the first mile and asked about her goal time. She said she was aiming for 46-48 minutes. Not wildly off from me, I had been thinking 47-49 minutes. I ran next to her for a bit but a glance at my watch revealed 6:45 pace. Um, what? No, no, no, not ok. It also started to feel very not ok, so over the course of the first mile, I settled down and thought, all right, you probably have no business passing her, but keep her in sight and hopefully you can chat after the race. First mile in 7:28.

This is a two loop course with two big hills on the loop. Approaching the first hill, I tried to remember everything I had learned in the crash course on hill racing I had solicited over the past two days. Lean into the hill a little. Look straight ahead of you. I tried to find some cute buns to look at, heh heh. Shorten your stride. Don’t gas yourself. Up and over the first hill.

There’s a more or less straight stretch between the two hills and I just tried to focus on keeping the pedal down. “Goosing it” as Coach Mick had recommended. The first time through, this was okay. I felt pretty good. The Retiree will be dismayed to learn that I decided to keep the music for this race. I suspect I am in the process of weaning myself off music but one step at a time and I didn’t want to do it here. The second mile ends near the corner and at 7:57, it was a good deal slower than the first, but not tragic. The third mile is up the second huge hill, then the massive downhill. I could still see the woman from Manchester ahead of me and I ran next to a young girl on the hill. Then on the out and back, I saw Snarky Girl! She was not nearly as far behind as I thought she would be. She had said she expected to run an hour for this race?

As we ran past the start, I could see the Incredible Mervus and Aidan. I tossed my gloves in their direction and apparently hammed it up for the camera, though I have no memory of doing this. Third mile in 7:27. Then we started the second loop. The young girl I had been running with turned into the park for the 5K. It turns out she is only 12 and she won the 5k! But now, I was alone.

I ran the second loop in no man’s land, as Coach Mick calls it. It is surprising how much harder it is to run fast in no man’s land. I ran by some volunteers and they yelled “Go on! You can catch her!” referring to the Manchester woman. I rolled my internal eyes and thought, no, that would be a completely terrible idea. I need to keep my own pace now. I tried to goose it on the flat section but I started to lose heart a bit. Then I just yelled at myself internally: DO NOT GIVE UP! You run this thing hard! It’s just another solo tempo run and you’ve done plenty of those. Mile 4 in 7:40.

The hill at mile 5 was the worst. I had to walk a little at the top but I tried to walk the way Snarky Girl does, sort of up tempo hiking. I was soooo glad to crest that hill. One more bad hill to go. The long straight section that finishes mile 5 was quite hard. I could see that the Manchester woman was getting further away but after my walking I was glad she was there at all. Otherwise I couldn’t see anyone except some people out for a stroll.

I listened to the soundtrack to Dear Evan Hansen for this race. I know, I know, “real runners” don’t listen to music, especially not while racing. Well, screw that. Especially since I ended up by myself so much of the time, I was really happy to have music this time around. One of my favorite songs came on, “You Will Be Found,” and it was perfect. That long stretch of road, alone but not alone:

Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need someone to carry you
When you’re broken on the ground
You will be found!

So let the sun come streaming in
‘Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again
If you only look around
You will be found!

Running is not the only way to be found. But feeling connected to others, knowing that you matter, that they care – this is what my family and my running friends mean to me. Even when I run alone, I know I am not alone. This was the hardest mile of the race for me and the slowest at 8:24, but in some ways also the most beautiful because I kept fighting even when it was really hard.

I still had one more big hill to get up though. This hill is reallllly steep but shorter than the first one and I didn’t walk. On the out and back in the middle of the downhill, I spotted Snarky Girl behind me, but closer than she had been last time. Yikes.

I gunned it down the hill, my brain chanting roadrunner, roadrunner, turn those legs. At the bottom it’s a quick left turn into the park and I heard Snarky Girl behind me yelling something like C’mon! Let’s GO! Give it all you’ve got! Eek. She is sooo close. In one of those moments when time stops I thought: Turn it up! She’s going to pass you! Crap, she is passing you! I am going to have to tell HPRM #1 that Snarky Girl passed me! I hope she doesn’t wait for me. She’d better be racing like crazy here, WHEN IS THIS GOING TO BE OVER?

Then I saw the clock and it was 47:50 or something. My pie-in-the-sky goal was to break 48 minutes so I ran like an absolute maniac. The Incredible Mervus has amazing video footage of the clock changing from 47:59 to 48:00 as I am between the two mats! Official time: 48:00. Just to be clear, I am over the moon about this. My original goal was to break 50:00 and that seemed really really fast when I decided to try for it. 48:00 is FABULOUS. But also, sub-48 next time around.

I finished and I was my usual incoherent mess at the finish line. I mean, I run hard when I race. Isn’t that the idea? When the volunteer tried to give me water, I kind of semi-collapsed into her arms instead and then got her to hand me off to Mervus, who was waiting right there, thank goodness. He told me I was third woman, which I couldn’t even believe. I knew the Manchester woman was ahead of me and I knew Snarky Girl had passed me just at the six mile mark. But there hadn’t been any other women ahead of us? What? Third woman OVERALL? I had to hear that a couple of times before I believed it. I still can’t quite believe it.

I sort of semi-collected myself and we of course put it together that Snarky Girl and I were second and third woman overall and both going to place in our age groups. That meant we had to stick around for the awards ceremony! Only first place overall folks got trophies, but we got pint glasses, which might be better than a trophy anyway. Then, I also won a gift certificate to my favorite restaurant in the raffle. I didn’t even know there was a raffle! Score! We will be headed to the Blackbird Tavern very soon for a celebratory dinner. This morning, we went to Carmela’s on the Extension for brunch. I had a mimosa, of course!

Catching up on training logs with two weeks in one. Back on the track, new shoes, some physical therapy, a 10 mile race and a trip to Beantown. Been a busy couple of weeks!

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Two weeks training in one post because life has been really busy! This is transferred over from Salty Running, where I tend to be a bit more on the ball with these. But yes, I have been training, not just racing.

The first week marks a return to my normal running schedule, post-marathon, post-AT business, post-Germany trip. The second week is the lead up to the Bunny Rock 5K that I ran last weekend in Chicago. The general theme is: the weather sucks but the running is going well. Read on to hear how it all played out.

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Getting to do something you love with people you love and getting an outcome better than the best one you imagined. Is this not the stuff that dreams are made of? That was this year’s Middletown race.

This is the sixth year of this race, but the Hartford Marathon Foundation keeps changing it. The race started as a four miler. They added a half marathon. They changed the course. They changed it again. One year it got postponed because of a huge storm. This time around it was a 10 mile race plus a 3.5 miler. Of course most of my friends and I were doing the 10 miler. Plus, North Shore Strider was coming for the race and staying with us overnight. We went to dinner Saturday night with the Retiree.

Racing at home makes me nervous. Racing is supposed to make you nervous, but racing in Middletown can send me right off the edge. I had a long talk with Coach Mick Friday night and that helped, but by Saturday night, I had a new attack of nerves. Coach Mick had suggested a goal of 1:21 or thereabouts and that seemed pretty reasonable to me. My PR for a 10 mile race was 1:25:25 from Broad St. 2016. So 1:21:xx would be an enormous PR and I’d be happy with that.

But North Shore Strider hadn’t picked this race randomly. The Retiree was pacing the 1:20 group and she planned to run with him. Could I join them? That seemed like a big stretch. Not completely impossible, but a stretch. Using my time from the Bunny Rock 5K, the various race time predictors were saying 1:21:30-1:22:30 depending on which calculator you used. But, the weather at the Bunny Rock race had been truly awful and as HPRM #1 put it “There is no reason to believe (I mean really, none) that you’re some kind of 5K prodigy who can run 23:20 in ATROCIOUS weather off of literally ZERO training specific to a 5K.” I didn’t mind this since I have no claims or plans to be a 5K prodigy. But bad weather and lack of 5K training meant I might actually have under-performed at the Bunny Rock race? That was almost too much for my brain to handle. But I did really want to run with North Shore Strider and the Retiree. Then it turned out that Ghostie was joining them as well. I love running with Ghostie. But 1:20?

So, my wheels kept spinning until they were ready to fly right off my bus. Should I start with them and hang on as long as I could? Maybe run just the first mile with them and then revert to my race plan and run my own race? Surely running your own race is always a good idea? Or, try to start with them and see how long I could stick it out? But the race predictors, but Coach Mick’s original plan, but the bunny race, etc. Eesh, I just couldn’t settle.

After texting with Coach Mick again Saturday night, I asked what he thought about aiming for 1:20-1:21. Was that crazy? He said, he would not use the word “crazy.” Maybe “aggressive.” Ok, aggressive but not crazy. I touched base with HPRM #1 and he asked: How did I feel about “aggressive?” I had no idea. Maybe scared would have been the more honest answer. We had been chatting about running and faith earlier in the day and he noted that the thing Jesus says most in the Gospel is some variation of “Do not be afraid.” He said: Christ calls us to live life with a bold and unafraid spirit.

I have sometimes raced conservatively. I know this about myself. I have often run to within the minute of the time predicted for me by my coach. Often within 10 seconds. That might be because I have had the privilege of working with some truly excellent coaches and I give copious feedback so they know where things stand. It might also be because I run to meet expectations. But not to break them. I suspect my inner running circle knows this about me. Now I was getting nudged to run more aggressively. When people ask me what I have learned from running, I always say: To stop being afraid. Now I was looking at fear in running again. I went to bed not knowing how I was going to handle the race.

Things were not much clearer when I woke up the next morning. This race doesn’t start until 11:30am so North Shore Strider and I hung out and chatted and enjoyed our oatmeal. I got to see her prep her UCAN, which she’s been trying for races. The Incredible Mervus and I did a bit more clean-up for the post-race party. Suddenly it was time to go and the only thing I had really decided was not to look at my watch during the race. I’ve done a lot of running by feel or effort this year, often following Tina Muir’s policy of #nowatchme. I don’t always run that way. But now, I was making myself crazy with my internal battle between 1:20:xx and 1:22:xx and I needed to shut that down, so no looking at pace was the way to go.

North Shore Strider and I got down to the South Green for packet pickup just after 10:30. We got our bibs and shirts, found our friends, and did a quick warm-up. As we dropped stuff at the van, I grabbed a pen and scrawled “Be Brave and Unafraid of Spirit” on the back of my bib.

We found Teacher Runner and Snarky Girl at the starting line, but hanging back a bit. I dragged them up to the front and introduced them to the Retiree. In my sometimes-bossy way, I announced: Hey friends, we are running 1:20 today, this is our pacer, the Retiree, he’s fabulous, just stick with him. We heard the national anthem and off we went.

I have run every single foot of this race many times. These are the roads we train on constantly. I know the mile markers from place to place. I know the potholes. I know the hills, even the ones that are so gradual you can’t see them. These streets are the tapestry that make up the backdrop of my daily running. Before the two mile mark, I had seen friends from church handing out water and been passed by twin boys I have known since before they could walk. I love being integrated into this small town of mine but it also freaks me out a bit on race day. They are going to see me out here running. I look ridiculous, I am such a poser. Who do I think I am and what do I think I’m doing? But I feel this less every year and much less this year. I have become more public with my running and even my non-runner friends know about my crazy hobby now. I’ve been at this long enough in a serious enough way that I am starting to look the part a bit more. This year, more than any previous year, I am more comfortable with this aspect of my identity being public and that feels good.

We started the race with a great crew. The Retiree had his special pacing singlet and his sign that he had to carry the whole race. Also present and accounted for were me, North Shore Strider, Teacher Runner, Ghostie, and Snarky Girl, and a woman named Sue, who seemed to know the Retiree from previous races. We came through the first mile split in 8:11, just as planned. I pulled my arm sleeve over my watch so I wouldn’t look again by accident. I did peek one more time – in the second mile, the pace felt too hard and I checked. 7:50. Sorry Retiree, I can’t hang there. But a second or two after I backed off, he also noticed and slowed down. After that, no more looking at the watch.

The course is two loops, a shorter one around campus and a longer one, out towards our house. I had decided to check in with myself at mile 3, when we passed by the start again. I felt fine and I could tell I was running pretty smoothly. In fact, having become comfortable running close to High Power Running Mentor #1 last weekend, I found myself frequently right at the Retiree’s shoulder and happy there. As we passed mile 3, I told the Retiree that HPRM #1 thinks I should race more aggressively. The Retiree said he wouldn’t disagree. I said: Remind me of that around mile 7.

The next few miles passed by pretty well. I was starting to work now. The Retiree and I are very good friends and apparently that meant I felt comfortable cursing at him while we were running. I can drop F-bombs with the best of them, when I’m I the right frame of mind and I guess that’s the frame of mind I was in!

At the five mile mark, the Retiree checked in with his crew. How were we all doing? I was right on his shoulder again and said, I am just going to take this mile-by-mile. To be honest, I had not expected to still be with the pace group. I knew his pacing plan was 8:10-8:15 for the first few miles and then dropping to 8:00, and speeding up the last few miles which are downhill. I figured when the 8 minute miles started, I would be done and the trick would be to drop back intelligently, meaning not too much. Instead I was still with the group. Right on the Retiree’s shoulder. Ghostie was saying I looked like a machine – “In a good way, of course!” But I also felt like one. Just hammering away at it.

When I got scared, which was often, I repeated what Coach Mick and HPRM #1 had told me. This is aggressive, but not crazy. Run with a bold and unafraid spirit. This is aggressive, but not crazy. Be bold and unafraid. God’s eye is on the sparrow and also the long distance runner. Don’t worry about the end of the race. You are running fine now.

We came up Long Lane and Long Hill. I have run these streets so many times. I know the dips and the crests in the road. I know how to run them feeling smooth and happy. I know the right turn onto Daniels and the sudden steep climb that is shorter than you expect. Suddenly we were at the 6 mile mark and I know this course is downhill from here on out. Much to my surprise, I was still with the 1:20 pace group. It occurred to me for the first time that I might run under 1:20. In fact, I was quite certain that was possible.

We turned right again onto Laurel Grove and a headwind hit us. The Retiree immediately jumped ahead a bit and waved to me to get behind him. This wind was less crazy than at the bunny race and drafting actually worked. I stuck behind him until we got to the dirt road through the park, my very favorite stretch of road in town. The Retiree kept telling me to take deep breaths. We came down out of the park and turned right. Next up are a couple of small hills where you can catch your breath from the steep descent. As we passed seven miles, I asked the Retiree what he was supposed to tell me. He didn’t remember and there was no way I had the breath to explain the whole run aggressively thing.

With about 2 miles to go, the Retiree told us to pull ahead. Snarky Girl had dropped back a bit but the rest of us went. We were now running ahead of the 1:20 pacer, just hammering it. I asked Sue how old she is as it occurred to me we had four different age groups and we might all place. She is 60 and our age distribution is confirmed. We were not competing with each other so much as working like crazy together to finish this race strong.

Our gang running ahead of the Retiree!

We passed the tennis courts and the water station with the church friends again and turned onto High St. I knew the Retiree was behind us, but I had no idea how far back. Just before we turned left onto College Street, Maple Leaf Trail Runner emerged from behind a tree. She snapped this picture and the Retiree said something like “Does everyone here know you guys???” That’s when I realized how close he was. Too close. College Street is a big downhill and I remembered Coach Mick’s advice: Most people attack the uphills and it zaps their energy and they don’t run the downhills hard enough. Better to chill a little when running uphill and really go for it on the downs. I took that to heart and found another gear. North Shore Strider asked something, but I couldn’t understand what and couldn’t answer anyway. Within seconds she was next to me again and we flew down College together.

Then we turned onto Main Street and we could see the finish line. I told myself to expect it to appear miles away so when it showed up, it actually didn’t seem so far off. I spotted the Incredible Mervus in the crowd and he jumped in to run a short stretch with me! He’s never done that! I could see the clock read 1:19:04 and I knew I was going to be well under 1:20:00. Our little pace crew gang blasted down the street. Five of us finished within seven seconds of each other, all but Snarky Girl more than 20 seconds under 1:20 and she’s just a few seconds over!

I got my medal and my water and for the first time in a long time, I cried at the end of a race. I am hugging Mervus. I am hugging Teacher Runner. I am hugging the Retiree (“You are freakishly strong!”) I am hugging Ghostie and North Shore Strider and Snarky Girl and crying. I had a crazy fantasy about finishing this race with these people, probably about a minute slower than we actually ran it and that was my very best imaginable outcome for the day.

Eventually we calmed down a bit and checked the official results. We all came in fourth or fifth place in our various age groups except Sue who has taken first. Somehow this was collectively hilarious. I called Coach Mick for the first time without a text warning. He did not even say hello, but just asked: “Was someone else wearing your watch? That was amazing!” and then “Do you know what your last mile split was? 7:25!” Totally shocked, I tell him I took his advice about running the downhills hard to heart! I was still sort of incoherently happy when a friend from Running 4 Real said hi.

After milling around a bit, North Shore Strider and I got pizza and did our cool down. The running felt completely awful but the conversation was top notch. Back at the house, the Incredible Mervus prepared both dishes we had planned as he realized my ability to cook was severely diminished by my post-race high. For the next three hours or so, runners and their families come and go and life is truly so good.

I’m left stunned. I have run beyond expectations maybe for the first time. I remember Broad Street from two years ago. I was there with a huge group of Sub30 people and a very tiny group of the really fast folks ran under 1:20. Now I have done that too. That’s going to take awhile for my brain to accept, but I am so happy and have not stopped smiling since the race.

Redemption.

Kind of a funny thing to be looking for at a race called the “Bunny Rock 5K” but life is funny sometimes.

After recovering from plantar fasciitis and having my best marathon training cycle ever, I got hit with high heat and humidity for the Donna marathon in February. I know bad weather is always a risk and if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. In other words, if you can’t stand to have your race plans ruined by bad weather, don’t run marathons, blah blah blah. It’s still pretty much of a bummer to train for months and then have your race go badly.

The evening after Donna, High Power Running Mentors #1 and #2 (a.k.a., the Chicago Boys) sent me pictures of the drinks they were toasting me with and we cooked up a plan. We had already arranged to meet in person during an upcoming work trip of mine to Chicago and of course, we planned to run. Now, they decided, we should find a 5K, and I should get myself a shiny new PR at a shorter distance. HPRM #1 quickly came up with the bunny race and also volunteered his services as pacer. It turned out Coach Cupcake was going to be in Milwaukee that weekend and she could also come down for some fun and the race!

The three days in Chicago were a smashing success. Facebook sees the pictures of me running on the lake shore and eating incredible meals. Meeting with colleagues, old and new, coming up with new ideas, making intellectual connections – these aren’t things that make good photographs, but plenty of that occurred as well. I packed an awful lot into just a few days.

Finally it was Friday afternoon. Coach Cupcake arrived and we met HPRM #2 at Fleet Feet for a shoe fitting, a lesson in cushioning versus stability, and some new kicks. After a quick glass of wine, HPRM #1 picked us up and took us to the Gage for dinner. More amazing food. Fantastic cocktails. More laughing than I’ve done in months. Alas eventually bedtime rolled around and we had to go our separate ways until morning.

A word about pre-race planning, A, B, and C goals, that sort of thing. My 5K PR before this race was 25:08, set last summer at Old Wethersfield, with only about a month of running under my belt, post-injury. Everyone on my team knew that PR was probably soft, but how soft? HPRM #1 said he would pace me to whatever time I suggested so I kind of needed to suggest something. Coach Mick said maybe 24:10. I loved that idea, but what about sneaking under 24? Not impossible. Then I ran a speedy track workout, but we also got the weather report for race day. Gale force winds and rain. Goody. In the end, I told HPRM #1, let’s try to get under 24 and see how it goes.

The weather on race day at 7:30am was not bad. Overcast, about 40 degrees and a little breezy – perfect race weather really. But by 8:15am it was closer to 30 degrees, very strong winds and starting to rain. I had convinced quite a few people to join us for the race though in the end, many had to back out because of family or work commitments. But the intrepid crew of me, HPRM #1, Coach Cupcake, The FatMan, and Peperuda met up before the race. The weather was really getting bad so we picked up our bibs and hid in Coach Cupcake’s car.

By 8:30am, it was sort of now or never for a warm up so HPRM #1 and I got out and braved the weather. We ran a bit on the course and back. It was basically just plain awful. We were getting pelted with freezing cold rain that was coming down nearly sideways. The race coordinators took down the inflatable finishing line arch and packed the petting zoo animals back into their crates. Of course I considered adjusting my goal for the race, but I also thought, it’s not like slowing down is going to suddenly make this thing fun. It’s going to be pretty miserable either way. I thought even if I couldn’t get under 24, I could probably still PR. You never know, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I figured we might as well go for it.

We got back to the start to line up and I handed over my watch. This was HPRM #1’s only pre-condition for his pacing duties and he was quite specific: One watch, mine, on his wrist. He would be sure we were close together so the time was accurate, but I would have no information about pace. He also told me I should run quite close to him so he could block the wind. He did this funny hip-patting move while we were running, just to remind me. HPRM #1 did not earn his nickname for nothing and I had total faith in his pacing abilities. I just wasn’t sure I would be able to keep up! I gave him my watch, showed him which buttons to push, and we got into the corral. We would have liked to start closer to the front than we did but it was too crowded to get up there. They started us off and we started dodging around people. HPRM #1 really knows how to move through a crowd so I just followed in his wake until we got clear of the slower runners in front of us.

I’m guessing it took about half a mile for the race to start feeling hard. That was disappointing and scary because I knew we had quite a ways to go yet and I was not at all sure I could hold that pace for 20 more minutes. Coach Mick has this graph about effort versus perceived effort in a 5K. The point of the graph, I think, is to get you to understand that at some point, the same effort will feel much harder. That’s ok and you should just keep going. But I had certainly been hoping to reach that point quite a bit later in the race! I tried not panic and HPRM #1 said some reassuring stuff about smooth breathing or something, but somewhere in there, I also started to feel a little bit better instead of worse. I probably wasn’t adequately warmed up at the beginning, but given the weather, that was likely inevitable.

In the first mile, I thought some about running with music. I generally run with music when I’m alone and without music when I’m with friends. I hadn’t been sure what to do at the race because I think the music helps distract me from the hurting, but I didn’t know if HPRM #1 would care (he did not). It also felt like a bother to be messing with my beloved iPod shuffle given the weather. I know “serious” runners don’t usually listen to music (I’m looking at you Retiree…) and I’ve had plenty of debates on this topic with those serious runner types. I ended up listening to music or at least having the shuffle on – I’m not sure I could hear it – but I might start experimenting more with no music. In this case, though, I realized music was a time cue. I didn’t have my watch, but I know how long my songs are. That pretty much kept me going for the first mile.

The worst thing about the second mile was that we passed the 2-mile marker but it was on the other side of the course for the out-and-back. In my increasingly foggy state, it wasn’t clear whether that had in fact been in fact two miles or whether we had to turn around first and come back to get to two miles. It turned out to be the latter, unfortunately. HPRM #1 kept up a pretty constant stream of chatter about smooth breathing, it’s going great, you’re right where you need to be. He also picked out a girl in a green shirt and said we were going to run her down. Despite his promise that this would take half a mile, we ended up chasing her the last two miles of the race. I’m sure she could hear him talking and sped up!

My only finishing line picture. That is the girl in green. Behind her HPRM #1 is fussing with my watch and next to him is Bruno Mars. You can see my light blue shoulder behind HPRM #1. Haha!

Somewhere along the way, HPRM #1 had a friend show up. He was just out for a training run, but when he heard about the pacing project, he jumped in to help. I didn’t completely catch his name, but it was something like Bruno. Like Bruno Mars? Really? Who names their kid Bruno? That’s the sort of weird stuff that was going through my mind. I think I am wider than the two of these guys smushed together so I’m not sure they created much of a wind block, but they did their best.

By now things were getting really quite hard. I had assumed I would think about form cues like “elbows!” or “nose before toes!” or maybe about people who inspire me or something along those lines, but I did not. Instead my thoughts ran more like this:

• This is so damn hard. It had better help with marathon running. If it doesn’t, I am going to be so pissed.
• I don’t want to trip. Or do I want to trip? Then I could stop running, which would be good, but I don’t really want to stop so it would be bad, so please don’t trip.
• God this is hard.
• Why does HPRM #1 keep telling me to look up? Does that matter? Who cares where I am looking?
• Don’t quit. Don’t give up. This is so awful. When will this be over?
• HPRM #1 is saying something about “every second counts” – does that mean I am close to 24 minutes, but a couple of seconds will matter?
• When this is over, I am getting waffles for sure. That brunch place had better have waffles.
• Don’t give up. You had better not give up. You will be so pissed if you give up.
• I should do harder swim workouts. There is not enough air in the world for this race.
• HPRM #1 needs to stop talking to Bruno Mars because I am going to die and he is not going to notice my corpse. I will get all muddy by the side of the course before he sees me.
• When is this going to be over with? Can I count yet? Where is the stupid finish line? Two more turns? It cannot possibly be two more turns.
• He is saying every second counts again. Shut up! I am running as fast as I can! Oh God, is he going to expect some dramatic finishing kick? That is so not happening.
• Can I count now? Just start counting and it will be over! This needs to end!
• Oh thank God, finish line, I can stop!

The next part is a bit of a blur. I gave HPRM #1 a big hug. He gave me my medal. I went and leaned pretty hard on the barricade with my head down trying to catch my breath. He asked me if I wanted to know my time – I said YES! He asked if I wanted to guess my time – I said NO! He said 23:21 [Actual time 23:20!!! That is a PR by 1 minute, 48 seconds! For a freaking 5K!]. I started smiling and I haven’t really stopped. It also turns out I was second in my age group and 12^th overall woman out of 307! Coach Cupcake was third in our age group! We cheered as the rest of the gang finished. I got to say hi to another one of Coach Mick’s runners who had come to the race. HPRM #1 and I ran a mile or so out by the lake which was spectacular because of the big waves. Then our gang went to brunch at the Chicago Diner. They did not have waffles, which I no longer wanted anyway. They did have mimosas, my go-to post-race celebratory drink.

Redemption. Coach Mick once distinguished between two types of runners. One would be “Sarah the Runner” and the other is “Sarah who runs”. It’s an identity question. Neither is better, but they are different. I spent a lot of time and effort trying to become “Sarah the Runner” because I thought that was the only way to get faster. Instead I got injured, frustrated, and so very sad. About a year ago, I realized I had to be “Sarah who runs” instead. Many people have told me I am inspiring, but I am not sure I had much choice in this evolution. “Sarah who runs” is much happier and I’ve had my suspicion that she also got a lot faster, but no proof. So thank you, crazy bunny race, for the chance at some proof and a little piece of redemption. Thank you to my wonderful team, especially Coach Mick and HPRM #1. Thank you always to the Incredible Mervus, whose support and love is invaluable. 23:20 ain’t too shabby. If I can stand to run another stupid 5K, who knows what might happen next.

In the last year or so, I’ve been incredibly blessed to get to know the British runner, Tina Muir. Tina’s built a fabulous community in conjunction with her podcast, Running for Real. This week on Running for Real she interviews some folks from that group, including me! Give it a listen, if you’re interested:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-running-for-real-podcast/id1225735334?mt=2

This week felt like finally a return to more or less normal training. I’ve got my energy back after the marathon and the travel. The anterior tibialis is behaving itself. Every day felt great and I even managed to dodge a mid-week snowstorm.

Monday, 3/5, Morning Crew – Swim 2100

Swam with Snarky Girl. Usual Monday routine. YEAH!

Tuesday, 3/6, Early Morning Crew – 6 easy miles (9:52 pace)

Easy morning run. I’m experimenting with doing some runs fasted, including this one. Usually if I don’t eat something before running, I feel sick, but today was fine. More importantly, anterior tibialis was fine, maybe a little stiff, but no pain.

Wednesday, 3/7, Morning Crew – 45 min elliptical plus weights

I met with Tough Guy Trainer earlier than usual to beat the impending snow storm.

Thursday, 3/8, Morning Crew – Swim 1650

We ended up with about 18 inches of snow. I am so totally over winter. Roads were in terrible shape, but I convinced Snarky Girl to drive to the pool and we snuck in a good swim. It feels like I’m finally getting my energy back this week.

Friday, 3/9, Early Morning Crew – Tempo Intervals, 2 miles WU, three times 1 mile at 8-8:15 w/90 sec recovery, 1 mile cool down

First real workout post-Donna! Teacher Runner came with me and we killed it. Splits for the faster miles were 7:55, 7:55, 7:52. I’m pretty sure I’ve never run three sub-8 miles that close together before. Plus, running next to Teacher Runner is pretty much my definition of running heaven. PLUS, no pain from the ant tib. I kept my appointment with the Maestro for later in the day anyway and he found what he called a “spicy meatball” with his needles. I nearly jumped off the table, but it seems to have paid off because even the lingering stiffness in my shin has been gone ever since. Fingers crossed.

Saturday, 3/10, Early Morning Crew – 45 min stair stepper machine plus weights

The stationary bike has been bugging the ant tib so even though it’s feeling so much better, I decided to play it safe and climb the stairs to nowhere for 45 min. Then weights. Nothing fancy.

Sunday, 3/11, Early Morning Crew – 8 miles plus strides, (9:42 pace)

I met Teacher Runner and Rooster for a pre-church jaunt. Anything under 10 miles, I can get done before church and that frees up the afternoon for critical activities like Girl Scout cookie deliveries. The run felt great. It’s so wonderful to be running with my girlfriends again.

Total: 20 miles

The last two weeks have been marked by frustration, worry, travel, recovery and trying to play it smart. Heads-up: this training log may contain profanity. There’s been more swimming than running, but the most miles have been covered by train and plane for sure. I’m so incredibly ready for normal life to return so let’s hope that’s what I have to talk about next weekend. As for the past two weeks: Continue reading →

I’ve gotten way behind with these training log posts over here so I’m just going to transfer a pile of them over from Salty Running today. Enjoy! This one is the week before and after the Donna marathon.

Continue reading →

How can my heart be overflowing with joy, while at the same time breaking just a little bit?

I finally got to run another marathon and I finished. I got my running life back. The long runs that structure the weekend. The feeling of accomplishment after a tough tempo run. The rhythm of a week marked by training sessions. Time with my real life running girlfriends and the chance to compare workouts with my virtual training partners. The crazy obsession with the weather when a hard run and a storm loom simultaneously. Even the endless laundry. A year ago all of that felt so tenuous. The running was about to come to a crashing halt. I had to wear the dumb boot and figure out how to get my foot better, but I did it. I worked hard at recovery. I played it smart with the comeback. I found a great coach to help me. I got back what I love but felt very close to losing. My parents got to see me cross a marathon finish line for the first time. I met my coach in person and got to hang out with him for a whole weekend. My dad ran a 5K with us. My heart is happy and full of gratitude.

But still: 4:54:48.

That is not at all the time I thought I would be posting for the Donna Marathon. To be honest, it’s a full hour off the time I thought might be possible. I’ve had a fantastic training cycle. Better than expected, I think it’s fair to say. I am in great shape. I’ve lost a bit of weight and fine-tuned some nutritional issues. I was mentally ready to go. And yet. 4:54:48.

That is even slower than the 4:29:12 I ran at Vermont City in May 2016 last time around.

But let’s step back a bit. How did I even get to this race? I considered Philadelphia, but that seemed too soon. I didn’t want to wait until marathon season re-opened in New England and I was willing to travel. Coach Mick suggested the Donna marathon and said that I could stay with him. Sold!

Of course, there was a risk of a repeat of Vermont. An edge-of-the-season race, training in the cold, racing in the heat, etc. But – I have a little distance from Vermont now and I’ve watched many more friends train for many more marathons. Weather is the great uncontrollable and all you can do is stack the odds in your direction. Northern Florida in early February has reasonable odds. With reasonable odds, you might as well run the race you want to run because weather is a crap shoot regardless. I am totally at peace with my choice of races. Plus, my parents heard about the chance to escape the chilly north in February and decided to come watch me race in Jacksonville.

We had a lot of fun with the WTForecast weather app. Have to find your fun somewhere.

Early January was frigid in Connecticut. I did many runs at below 20 degrees and some at below 10. Meanwhile early January was also pretty chilly down in Jacksonville. But as race day approached, Florida got warmer and Connecticut sure didn’t. In the days leading up to the race, the temperature at start time just crept slowly upwards.

My parents and I arrived from our respective northern climes on Thursday night. Coach Mick joined us for dinner and the next day the parents went to St. Augustine while Coach Mick and I went to the race expo with his family. That evening we met up with some Sub-30 friends for dinner, including Florida Girl. I love that pretty much no matter where I go, I can find some running friends from my online gang.

At the expo with Coach Mick!

Sub-30 Dinner with the parents!

The Donna race weekend includes a lot of distances and on Saturday, we decided to run the 5K. This was a nice shakeout run for me and a chance to see a little bit of downtown Jacksonville. My dad got a chance to check out the expo. Then my dad and Coach Mick both placed in their age groups! Plus, we got to meet the Olympians.

Ready for the 5k!

Age Group Winners and Olympians – who is who?

The only negative about the 5K was the first hint that the weather reports weren’t wrong. I wasn’t exactly trying to ignore them, but I was trying not to get too worked up. After Vermont I had a lot of experience running in the heat, and surely it wouldn’t be that bad? When the sun was out, it was pretty bad though. With a little cloud cover or in the shade, it wasn’t terrible, but in the full sun, it was pretty warm.

Running Munchkin was also escaping the freezing cold north to run the marathon and she came over on Saturday afternoon for a course tour. Coach Mick drove us along the route, which is mostly up and down the coast along the beach communities. This race raises money for the DONNA Foundation, an organization that funds breast cancer research and provides assistance to families with financial need who need help getting treatment. Lots of neighborhoods were decked out with pink flags, pink banners, pink balloons, etc. In the car, we talked race strategy and made a quick stop at a grocery store for last minute supplies.

Saturday night, Coach Mick made a pasta and garlic bread dinner. How’s that for full-service coaching? Provides accommodation and pre-race meals as well! We chatted about the race and how the crucial question was whether the sun would come out or not. We went to bed at a totally reasonable hour and I slept well. In the morning, I had oatmeal and gathered my stuff. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so relaxed before a marathon in my life. We drove to the office building where we were hanging out before the start and got our gear situated. Lots of people were making sick jokes about the heat, but I was trying to stay relaxed. It wouldn’t be as bad as Vermont, I said. I know how to run in the heat, I told myself.

With Running Munchkin and Mr. Running Munchkin

Soon enough, it was time to head to the starting line. Now we were a little nervous and revved up for sure. Running Munchkin and I (and Mr. Running Munchkin, who was running the half) bid adieu to speedy Coach Mick who needed to line up at the front. We headed back to hang around the 4:00 hour pacers. During the Star Spangled Banner I remembered that Mr. Running Munchkin is a vet and I felt proud to stand near him. We did some warm-up lunges, high-fived, took a couple of pictures, and jumped in the corral. The gun went off and we headed to the start. All kinds of pink confetti was flying around as we crossed the line!

Feeling happy at mile 6

Running Munchkin is faster than I am so she took off right after the gun. I was mindful of Coach Mick’s advice about running in the heat: if you think you are going too slow, slow down. I ran really slowly with a 10:21 first split. I truly am not afraid to run slow when appropriate, but that was slower than intended. But the next 4 miles all came in at 9:25-9:35 and that felt right. He had talked about how your energy is like a bag of Skittles. Your body knows how many Skittles are left in the bag so don’t spend them all at the beginning. I was running really easily and chanting in my head: Save the Skittles. Save the Skittles. At mile 6 I saw Florida Girl at the first relay exchange. It was SO incredibly great to see her! And she got this awesome picture! I was still on pace and everything was going according to plan.

The original race plan had been pretty straightforward. Run the first five miles a little slower than goal pace, especially with the heat. Then move to goal pace until about mile 21. Then try to pick it up, hopefully finish strong. It’s a flat course with a bridge at the end. Nothing too complicated. Given the heat, Coach Mick said if there’s not a lot of sun, that plan is probably ok. If the sun is out, all bets are basically off. For the first five miles, the sun played hide and seek with the clouds. We also got some deliciously cooling fog blowing in off the beach. With a breeze and the fog, it was ok. When it was just sun and no fog, it was pretty ugly. And about to get uglier.

Miles 5-10 were also not terrible. I decided to adjust for conditions and aim for 9:15 instead of 9:00, my original goal marathon pace. Splits here ranged from 9:00 to 9:26. Mile 11 was 9:38 and that’s when I knew I might be in serious trouble. I haven’t abandoned the #nowatchme approach exactly but I’ve been using it with some serious modifications lately. I never look at my watch on easy runs. I haven’t looked on most tempo runs. I did use the watch for track workouts sometimes. I have used the watch on long runs when aiming for marathon pace because in those cases, I actually wanted to hit a particular pace. I sort of fell into the habit of getting mile splits, which is what I did during this race as well. In any case, the 11 mile split was bad news and I knew it. I also knew that I was not at all on track for a sub-4 race and with these conditions, I wasn’t going to make that time up either.

The race course does a kind of loop-around thing in the northern edge of the course before heading back south again. I went through the half in just under 2:05 and thought, well, a PR is not numerically impossible, but very unlikely. It would mean negative splitting the race, which had certainly been the plan, but it was getting hotter and sunnier. I knew lots of folks were trying to watch this race – thank you everyone! I actually love knowing friends and family are out there cheering – but I also knew the tracking app was wonky so I wasn’t sure how much information was getting through. Anyway, 2:05 through the half ain’t sub-4 and it ain’t BQ either. But it could still be a solid race and I wasn’t giving up. Up in this turnaround was where I had the first sort of darker feelings though never as bad as in most previous marathons. But this is where the first seeds of doubt started to creep in. Big hint. This is TOO SOON for that to happen. In a quality marathon – meaning one run to your potential, I guess, or maybe just one that I would feel happy with – you should feel pretty happy through the half. In any case, to be starting to question things at mile 11 is not good. But, just as I was wondering if I was really going to start to struggle, I saw what I had hoped not to need, not expected to have, and really really wanted: ice.

I completely believe that ice saved my race in Vermont. If “saved” is a good description of that race at all. North Shore Strider ran all over place with a backpack full of ziplock baggies of ice and I dumped it all down my sports bra and my shorts. I’m convinced that kept me going during that race, but I didn’t expect to have access to ice during this one, though Coach Mick had said he would try to bring me some near the end. But maybe I could get ice after all. The first place I saw it was an ice machine being used to keep water cool. But the spectators didn’t care at all if I grabbed big handfuls and shoved them into my clothes. Packed in ice, I felt better and kept running. Later, spectators figured out that handing out baggies full of ice was the best thing to offer runners. I got ice from people’s personal coolers and my favorite source of all – someone’s champagne bucket. Coach Mick also brought ice in bags from medical though he thinks they did a bait and switch on him. They told him it was ice but by the time he got it to me, it was just water. Hardy har har. Coach Mick is a serious expert in what one might lovingly term “dad jokes”.

Florida Girl captures me starting to look a little weary.

The tracking app was a complete flop, but the race website had split times from the mats. Anyone tracking me got a lot of info from splits at 10 miles, 13.1 miles, 15 miles. Friends and family could observe the corresponding collapse of the race as splits got slower and then much slower. Looking back I can see the shift happened quite quickly. Miles 9 and 10 were fine. 10 was a little slower, but this is when I had my second Gu and also the 5 Hour Energy Shot and monkeying around with those just takes a few seconds. By mile 11 I was in trouble and mile 12 was the last reasonable split of the race. That’s really early for a marathon to go south. Split times for miles 11-14 ranged from 9:20 to 9:51 but then mile 15 was 11:11. I knew I might see Florida Girl again at mile 16 or so and I did. I also knew by then, these splits were probably out there and I just said “Tell them I’m ok”. I didn’t want people to worry. It’s a little scary when someone slows mid-race because you don’t know what’s wrong. My foot was fine. My mind was fine. I was just too dang hot.

Already at mile 15, it was a pretty big battle to keep going. I knew Coach Mick was going to run out to meet me at mile 23 after finishing the half marathon. I also knew with how slowly I was going that there was some chance he would find me sooner, but he didn’t want to run too many miles so I wasn’t sure. I just started thinking about that. Make it to mile 23 and find Coach Mick. Whose real name is Mark. For the next six miles, I counted down. Five miles to Mark. Four miles to Mark. Etc.

I also used every trick I know to keep running as strong as possible when a marathon gets hard, and I know quite a few of them. I grabbed ice every chance I saw it, down the bra, down the shorts, if possible. I kept with my fueling plan, a Gu every 30 minutes. I drank two glasses of water at every hydration stop and started dumping a couple on my head as well. For me, one of the successes of the race is that I stuck to my fueling plan and I didn’t get dehydrated. Big score for me and Mr. Nutrition Helper.

I tried changing music. I had started the run with the soundtrack to Dear Evan Hansen. That is bouncy happy music. Great for staying in a good mood, though not necessarily what I would pick for running fast. Ideal for the early stages of a marathon. Then I switched to Hamilton, which had been my original plan. I’ve run a lot of miles to Hamilton – I mean, an absolutely insane number of miles, to be honest – and I got my half PR to that music so it’s a good bet for race music for me. I got through about “Wait For It” – less far than I’d hoped – before I needed “change music” as a strategy and switched to Girl Talk. Girl Talk is excellent for running fast and it probably helped for awhile until it didn’t anymore and I switched to the Moana soundtrack. By then I was so far gone that music changes weren’t going to do it for me.

I brought some inspiration along with me in my fuel belt.

A mantra or just thinking of other people can also be a huge help during a marathon. I had bought a bracelet that says “believe” a word that came to me during a hard training run that went well and I stared at my bracelet. I carried a crane for Glitter Mom’s son in my pocket and I thought of that. I also had a card with names of people who have been affected by cancer and I thought of them and how cancer is such a horrible disease but they had fought it bravely. These sources of inspiration worked for awhile until they didn’t anymore.

Sometimes interacting with other people in the race can help. I high-fived kids and thanked volunteers. I tried chatting with other runners and waving at spectators. When the 4:30 Galloway pace group leaders passed me, I tried hopping in with them. They were looking great and they were totally on pace and I absolutely could not hang.

It’s perfectly reasonable in hot conditions to try walking a bit. I started with walk breaks of 30-60 seconds every mile. Then every song. But the walk portions got longer and the run portions got shorter.

This is the part of the race that is most mysterious to me. Miles 15-21. That’s an absolutely classic portion of the marathon for people to find difficult. Miles 11-14 had not been a lot of fun either. What was strange is that 15-21 were less mentally dark than they sometimes have been in previous marathons. This is often when I think of Rose and her unbelievable sweetness lifts me out of the dark. No world with that girl in it can be entirely bad. She lifted my spirits in Vermont and got me moving again when I was in a sinking spell. But this sinking spell at Donna was longer and less deep than previous ones. Part of my brain was laughing at the insanity of the situation. I would find a solution: some ice, new music, inspiration from someone I love or something on the course, run-walk intervals – and start running again. Then I would just slow way down and walk until the next solution. My brain kept telling my body to run, but my body was not listening. The best split here is 10:27 for mile 16, almost certainly due to seeing Florida Girl again. The worst is 13:13, the dreaded mile 19. By mile 17, I had resorted to counting to 100, a strategy I usually save until the end of the race. Here I used it at mile 17. When a strategy ran out of steam, I re-calculated: how many miles until Mark?

At mile 17, with Mark at mile 23, that’s six miles and using a 10 minute per mile pace, that’s still an hour. I could hardly bear to think of that, particularly since I was well aware that I was moving more slowly than 10 minute miles. But I had nothing else to do so I kept cycling through my strategies. Count to 100, walk a minute when I had to. Try to do this for a mile, but fail dramatically. By 21.5, I was walking. Again. But here was Mark at last. He arrived with ice water, having been duped out of ice by the tricky medics. More importantly, he brought a sense of humor, reports that my parents had made it to the finish line, and an arm to lean on.

Much appreciated rescue from Coach.

I actually got even slower after he arrived, but much happier. It also got hotter and the last few miles on the bridge, you are totally exposed to the sun. We mostly walked. Sometimes I tried to walk faster or run a little. I felt a little bad because he’s an amazing coach and I want him to be proud of me and I want him to think I’m tough and strong. But, he is proud of me; I know that. I’m not sure if matters if he thinks I’m tough and strong because I think he will help me run faster regardless. He’s an absolutely incredible friend, no matter what. So we mostly walked those last four miles. He goofed off some. He worked to encourage other runners because we were a pretty bedraggled crew by then. He told me he didn’t think we should have trained differently and I agreed. He said some of my inability to run might be mental but it didn’t matter either way. It was a long time to be out there in the heat. He got me through it and I wasn’t miserable. We had a good laugh when I said I had to pee, but refused to go at the first opportunity because there was a line. I did go at the second chance, though, even though we were less than half a mile from the finish line. What the heck – I was going to be under five hours even with a potty stop and I didn’t want my bladder to explode while I was getting my medal.

Finished at last!

We managed to run the last 400 yards or so, by which I mean, I managed to run and he ran with me and whooped it up for the crowds. We saw my parents and the great banner the Incredible Mervus had made. We found Running Munchkin who had had a very good day. Coach Mick gave me my medal, which is something I had wanted though I had hoped for quite different circumstances. I got a massage. We got a little food and gathered our stuff and headed back to the Coach Mick Family Residence for champagne and snacks before going out for dinner.

Nothing like getting your medal from your coach.

Marathoners! And tenured professors!

Amazing banner the Incredible Mervus had made for me!

Hurts so good!

Champagne fixes a lot.

Celebration dinner!

It was an amazing and wonderful day. I ran a marathon again and I’m as sure as one can be that I’ll run another. Physically, I am mostly ok. I have a little shin twinge but I think the Maestro and some time off will clear it up. My foot is fine – no plantar fasciitis. It was kind of heartbreaking. So much hard work and not the race I wanted. But I believe so deeply – if you can’t accept a day like this, you have no business playing at being a marathoner. This is par for the course. The marathon is like a casino – the house always wins and the best you can hope for is the occasional temporary victory. I had a good chat later with the Chicago Boys and they are already planning some shenanigans for my upcoming visit, including a (hopefully) speedy 5K. They reminded me that the fitness I have gained is not lost because I ran a race in hot weather. They posted pictures of the drinks they raised in my honor. I have spent a couple of days processing the race and there is surely more of that to come. I was already interested in the question of how to manage a race gone wrong mentally so now my interest is not merely academic. But I am running again and my heart is very happy.