I have to say, this marathon is sneaking up on me much quicker than the last one. Maybe it's because of the stress fracture that got me off my training schedule for a couple of weeks. Maybe it's because I'm training in the winter this time. I'm not really sure, but there are only 3 months to go before I lace them up and try again, and that just seems like it's happening awfully soon.
What is different this time? Well, I'm definitely eating better, but because I've been sidelined, I'm not sure how it's working from a fueling standpoint. I hope to learn more about the effects of a better diet as I once again ramp up the mileage.
Another difference is that I know what to expect, and the fear of the race isn't really there anymore. Of course, with the injury I suffered, I'm a little scared that it not healing might keep me from completing the marathon. But I don't have the fear of the unknown this time, and in fact, I'm the one alleviating the fears of my new marathon teammates. Letting them know how it feels when you hit the wall, when you get that second surge, the mental games you play at mile 19 and when the tears hit.
The one thing that hasn't changed this time, though, is the camaraderie I'm experiencing with my fellow marathoners. This, by far, is the best part of committing to this endeavor once again just as it was the best part of preparing for the first one. There is nothing like the bond that forms when you are running on a trail out near North Bend in the pouring rain on an early Sunday morning when everyone else you know is inside and warm. And you know there is nowhere else you'd rather be. Nothing better than checking in on how many miles everyone did this week, how the bodies are holding up, what is the best plan to be following, and when we can all get together for another long run.
So even though time is growing short, I will enjoy every minute of every training run, every marathon dinner, every mega e-mail exchanged where we plan the rest of our Napa adventure. And I will be forever grateful for the teammates, both the new ones this time around and those that I shared that first experience with. You have made these experiences so rewarding, and it's because of you (and the future teammates that I convince next time around) that keep me agreeing to do these crazy things at my age.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Injury Part Deux
It happened when I started running on the treadmill. People are always surprised when I tell them that because the treadmill is supposed to be easier on the body. At least that's what they say. But for me, the treadmill apparently changed my stride and foot placement just a little, just enough to put extra strain on my shin. Combine a few times on the treadmill with a pounding downhill run at the end of the Magnolia 12K, and voila! 3 weeks in a boot.
So what does this mean for my training? That's easy. Week one - total rest. Week two - I can start activity, but nothing weight bearing. End of week three - boot hopefully comes off.
Beginning week two, my friend was nice enough to loan me a bike trainer and set up my bike in my living room so that I can ride while watching everything that's been sitting on my DVR. I've also incorporated kinesis back into the routine, but since it's typically a whole body workout, the trainers at Vera Fitness have been great at modifying the monthly routine for me so I can do at least the upper body stuff sitting on the exercise ball.
I'm currently at the end of week two and counting the days until my doctor appointment next Friday and hopefully resuming my training.
What's been most eye-opening for me is that this experience has shown me how much my mind and spirit have changed, and I am truly a couch potato no more. First thing was, unlike my hip injury last year, which really discouraged me, I approached this with a pretty positive outlook from the day I left the doctor. No activity just meant more of an opportunity to eat well and cook good meals and, it got me refocused on the importance of incorporating healthy eating into my training regimen. I've actually lost 5 lbs since the injury.
Second, though, was the coolest thing to discover about myself, and it's that I'm truly an athlete. Back in the 1990's and early 2000's when I was a true couch potato, I could go weeks without working out. I was that person who joined a gym in January and went pretty regularly for 4-6 weeks until I got bored with it or made excuses to do other things, and before I knew it, I'm paying for a gym membership I don't use. An injury back then would have just given me an extra excuse to sit on the couch.
Now, I don't want to make excuses to not be active. Week one of the boot where I was allowed no activity killed me. I couldn't wait until that bike trainer was set up so I could jump on and get a little cardio in. It was like my body craved it. And with the kinesis, I also did two things I never do, which is work around an obstacle to get in activity and ask for help. This is a true breakthrough for me.
With any luck, I've got one more week in the boot. Three weeks in the big scheme of things is a blip in the training and I will hopefully be on the road again logging miles soon. But this injury has been a great opportunity to test drive many of the things I've been working on in my wellness coaching - viewing obstacles as opportunities, not being a victim, appreciating the present moment, and treating myself well.
Maybe the boot's not so bad after all.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Working Out Becomes a Lifestyle Choice for This Former Couch Potato
I haven't posted in here in a while, and as I sat down to write this post, I wondered why. It's not like I haven't been busy with races and events. Since the big marathon in June, I've done: 1 5K, 1 10K, 1 12K, 1 half-marathon and two triathlons, one with an ocean swim (I'll talk more about that in a sec.).
So it's not like I did the marathon, collapsed back on the couch with a pint of Chubby Hubby and never looked back. And it's not like there haven't been challenges to share here. A visit to the medic tent after the half-marathon and a new injury that might be shin splints or might be a stress fracture. So there's plenty to share.
And then I realized why as I sat here on the sofa with ice on my shin, unable to run tonight.
Sitting on the couch and being a couch potato, even if forced by an injury, is not in my makeup anymore. There is nothing more I'd rather be doing tonight than running on a treadmill or on a path around the lake. I see hills...Hills!...and I wish I was able to run up them and work on my intervals. After all this time, my mindset has truly changed. I don't envision a time in my life when I'll ever give up on fitness again.
And this is why I agreed to do a sprint triathlon with an ocean swim with virtually no training.
About a month ago, I flew down to California to spend some time with my sisters. I had extended my trip for a few days longer than originally planned because I wanted to be there to cheer them on as they did the Carpinteria triathlon. My sister Nancy picked me up from the airport, and no sooner did we start driving up the 101 did she inform me that our friend Kerry had to back out of the triathlon due to a back injury, and there was a space for me to do it.
My first thought was that I hadn't been on a bike since the Danskin in August, and I'd never done an open water ocean swim, and oh by the way, aren't there sharks????? So I ducked it and said, "Love to, but I don't have a bike."
"We have an extra one you can use."
"And I don't have a wetsuit," I said.
"We have an extra one of those too."
"I've never trained in the ocean." I was grasping for anything at this point.
"We'll get you out there today if you want."
I was running out of excuses. "But there are sharks! I don't want to die!" As I said, I was grasping.
This mind shift to fitness as a lifestyle has been life changing, and I hope that I have good health late in life so I can continue taking on fitness challenges for a long time to come. I like the person I've become, the people that have come into my life because of it, and the much-needed confidence it has given to me.
Oh, and you'll be glad to know that I used my "reluctance" to do the triathlon and parlayed that into a challenge for my sister, Nancy. One that she reluctantly accepted.
I said, "Okay, I'll do your triathlon if you do the Napa Marathon with me in March." All of a sudden, me doing the tri didn't seem like such a good idea. And once I stepped foot in the ocean on the day of the tri, she knew she was committed.
Good thing she didn't know that I was gonna do the tri anyway with no convincing.
Next up: Training for Marathon #2: Applying Lessons Learned
So it's not like I did the marathon, collapsed back on the couch with a pint of Chubby Hubby and never looked back. And it's not like there haven't been challenges to share here. A visit to the medic tent after the half-marathon and a new injury that might be shin splints or might be a stress fracture. So there's plenty to share.
And then I realized why as I sat here on the sofa with ice on my shin, unable to run tonight.
Sitting on the couch and being a couch potato, even if forced by an injury, is not in my makeup anymore. There is nothing more I'd rather be doing tonight than running on a treadmill or on a path around the lake. I see hills...Hills!...and I wish I was able to run up them and work on my intervals. After all this time, my mindset has truly changed. I don't envision a time in my life when I'll ever give up on fitness again.
And this is why I agreed to do a sprint triathlon with an ocean swim with virtually no training.
About a month ago, I flew down to California to spend some time with my sisters. I had extended my trip for a few days longer than originally planned because I wanted to be there to cheer them on as they did the Carpinteria triathlon. My sister Nancy picked me up from the airport, and no sooner did we start driving up the 101 did she inform me that our friend Kerry had to back out of the triathlon due to a back injury, and there was a space for me to do it.
My first thought was that I hadn't been on a bike since the Danskin in August, and I'd never done an open water ocean swim, and oh by the way, aren't there sharks????? So I ducked it and said, "Love to, but I don't have a bike."
"We have an extra one you can use."
"And I don't have a wetsuit," I said.
"We have an extra one of those too."
"I've never trained in the ocean." I was grasping for anything at this point.
"We'll get you out there today if you want."
I was running out of excuses. "But there are sharks! I don't want to die!" As I said, I was grasping.But here's the thing, and my sisters don't even know this. Not only did I know I'd do it from the first minute she brought it up, I had actually planned my trip to stay and "cheer them on" in the hopes that maybe I could find a way to do it too. It didn't even dawn on me to not participate. I didn't really want to be on the sidelines. And that is such a huge mindset change from where I was when I started this fitness journey almost 10 years ago. I didn't finish with my fastest time, but it felt great to do it, and even better to share that experience with my sisters.
This mind shift to fitness as a lifestyle has been life changing, and I hope that I have good health late in life so I can continue taking on fitness challenges for a long time to come. I like the person I've become, the people that have come into my life because of it, and the much-needed confidence it has given to me.
Oh, and you'll be glad to know that I used my "reluctance" to do the triathlon and parlayed that into a challenge for my sister, Nancy. One that she reluctantly accepted.
I said, "Okay, I'll do your triathlon if you do the Napa Marathon with me in March." All of a sudden, me doing the tri didn't seem like such a good idea. And once I stepped foot in the ocean on the day of the tri, she knew she was committed.
Good thing she didn't know that I was gonna do the tri anyway with no convincing.
Next up: Training for Marathon #2: Applying Lessons Learned
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
You didn't think I'd stop there, did you?
It's been almost 2 months since I finished the marathon. Since then:
- I officially lost one toenail
- I've started training for my sprint triathlon and, due to the horribly cold summer in Seattle, have only managed two open water swims
- I've gotten back on my bike, but haven't done enough riding
- I've run here and there, but nothing over 5k
In other words, a little bit of a marathon letdown. I thought that once I completed a marathon, I'd be so strong that training for the sprint triathlon I always do will be a piece of cake. But what happened is that I've lost the motivation I had.
I never thought I'd say this, but I miss training for the marathon. I miss the strategy sessions with my training buddies, the long weekend runs that I always dreaded, the aches and pains that came with those long runs, shopping for the right electrolyte powders and gels, and mostly, anticipating the big event.
I'm finally starting to kick the triathlon training into gear and getting myself motivated for the Danskin. But I still needed something else, something to look forward to, another challenge.
A brief Internet search turned up the answer. The Napa Valley Marathon. March 4th, 2012. Yep, I'm gonna do this again. Janna too. And we've already got some new recruits.
Sasha, my dear friend who has already signed up and is researching fabulous accommodations for us. Cindy, another fabulous friend, who was convinced to join us by Janna on a train ride to Portland (and hasn't quite committed yet, but maybe this will convince her). Amber, my amazing friend who just did her first half marathon in Missoula in July, and immediately declared herself 80% ready to join us. And if I can convince her, my beautiful sister Nancy, whose birthday is the day after the marathon (what better way to celebrate?).
Training starts in November. To prepare, I'll be doing the Oregon Wine Half Marathon in September. A perfect kickoff as it includes both running and wine.
And this time, I will be putting more focus on technique, injury prevention and nutrition, and I'll be blogging about what I learn as I go. My goal this time is to finish with a better time than last time, and my BHAG is to slice 45 minutes off my Edge to Edge time.
So stay tuned for more of the couch potato marathon blog. Here we go again.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- I officially lost one toenail
- I've started training for my sprint triathlon and, due to the horribly cold summer in Seattle, have only managed two open water swims
- I've gotten back on my bike, but haven't done enough riding
- I've run here and there, but nothing over 5k
In other words, a little bit of a marathon letdown. I thought that once I completed a marathon, I'd be so strong that training for the sprint triathlon I always do will be a piece of cake. But what happened is that I've lost the motivation I had.
I never thought I'd say this, but I miss training for the marathon. I miss the strategy sessions with my training buddies, the long weekend runs that I always dreaded, the aches and pains that came with those long runs, shopping for the right electrolyte powders and gels, and mostly, anticipating the big event.
I'm finally starting to kick the triathlon training into gear and getting myself motivated for the Danskin. But I still needed something else, something to look forward to, another challenge.
A brief Internet search turned up the answer. The Napa Valley Marathon. March 4th, 2012. Yep, I'm gonna do this again. Janna too. And we've already got some new recruits.
Sasha, my dear friend who has already signed up and is researching fabulous accommodations for us. Cindy, another fabulous friend, who was convinced to join us by Janna on a train ride to Portland (and hasn't quite committed yet, but maybe this will convince her). Amber, my amazing friend who just did her first half marathon in Missoula in July, and immediately declared herself 80% ready to join us. And if I can convince her, my beautiful sister Nancy, whose birthday is the day after the marathon (what better way to celebrate?).
Training starts in November. To prepare, I'll be doing the Oregon Wine Half Marathon in September. A perfect kickoff as it includes both running and wine.
And this time, I will be putting more focus on technique, injury prevention and nutrition, and I'll be blogging about what I learn as I go. My goal this time is to finish with a better time than last time, and my BHAG is to slice 45 minutes off my Edge to Edge time.
So stay tuned for more of the couch potato marathon blog. Here we go again.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, June 24, 2011
Last...But Not Least by a Long Shot
My marathon, the Edge to Edge Marathon from Tofino to Ucluelet, was June 12th. In some ways, that seems like so long ago. In others, I can still feel the fatigue in my legs as if I just crossed the finish line. This is my attempt to recap the experience, from the emotions to the physical challenges I faced throughout. As I learned well, the two things are inextricably linked.
Pre-Marathon - Preparing for the Battle
The alarm went off at 5:15, but I was wide awake by then. I always have a fear of oversleeping for really important events, and that fact alone usually wakes me up a half and hour prematurely. Combine that with the sheer terror I was feeling, and I was wide awake by the time it started to get light at 4:30. Of course, waking up to the pacific ocean isn't so bad.
I started drinking one of my water bottles I had prepared with my GU Brew because I knew that eating anything would probably be difficult given my extremely nervous stomach. I did manage half a banana and about 1/8 of a multigrain bagel with peanut butter, but even that was a struggle. Janna, my roommate for this adventure, was just excited, not nervous. She's one of these people who doesn't get nervous for these races like I do, but on this morning, her excitement wasn't rubbing off on me.
I can't even really tell you why I was so nervous. I certainly wasn't competing to win. I was only really competing with myself, with my mind. Maybe that's why I was so nervous. I wasn't sure it was a competition I'd win. I also didn't want to finish last, and in a marathon with only 150 people, there was a better than even chance I might.
6:15 - Waiting for the Bus to Tofino
There were six of us outside the BlackRockResort waiting for the bus. Mea, Tara, Janna and me, and two men who must have thought we were crazy. Let me explain. As I mentioned above, I was nervous. And during the course of the trip, we discovered a little song/video that sort of became the trip mascot. In order to relieve the tension, I decided to play our song and got us all dancing. At 6:15 in the morning. To Baby Monkey.
7:30 - Start Time for the Slow People, but Where is the Start Line?
So we arrive in Tofino, and there are a handful of people around, but I'm not really seeing a start line or any evidence that a marathon is about to take place. Now to be fair, I was starting in the unofficial early wave start, but I expected there to at least be a start line.
Finally, we saw a lady with a clipboard and a pace car, and we knew we were in the right place. And then we saw the start line, before
And after.
Time to get this party started. On island time, of course.
Miles 1-5 - Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me Where to Turn?
So the horn goes off, and I take off with about 25 other early bird runners and walkers. I get off to a good start and am planning to follow my "run a mile, walk a minute" plan. But I'm slow, and soon, I'm at the back of the pack with about 5 others. This is nothing new for me. I run at a pretty slow pace normally, and with having to go 26.2 miles, I'm definitely pacing myself.
Now, the Edge to Edge marathon is an open course, meaning you share the road with cars. This isn't a big deal leaving Tofino because there is a bike path we ran on. It's also not incredibly well marked at this point because a) we're starting at 7:30, and as evidenced with the start line, they're not quite set up yet, and b) it's Tofino, which gives laid back a whole new meaning.
I don't know the course, but I know that at some point, I make a turn onto the beach. I just wasn't sure where that was, and with some turns in the road, there wasn't really anyone in front of me to watch where they go. So I jog on, figuring there would be a person or a sign. And I was right. There was a person. Unfortunately for me, he drove after me, stopping me about 1/2 kilometer past the beach turn, telling me I needed to turn back.
Yes, I went 1K out of my way. It was pretty discouraging, but that feeling soon went away when I got to the beach and was running along the surf. I didn't get my camera out to capture the moment, but luckily for me, Janna and Mea did.
Miles 6-12 - The Lonely Open Road
Running on the beach was definitely the highlight of the marathon. Unfortunately, it wasn't a long enough stretch, and soon we were back on the road where most of the run takes place, the road between Tofino and Ucluelet. And it was long. There were aid stations about every 2 miles, and it took me until the final aid station to realize they were all themed. The volunteers were all really great and put a lot of work in. A big thank you to them.
It was about mile 8 that the fast people from the 8:30 start time began to catch up to me, but until then, there were times when I couldn't see anyone in front of me. It was a little weird. This was also the point that the bear warning started to dance around in my head. Were they in the forest along the side of the road? Were there other animals? Hey, it kept my mind occupied.
At about mile 11, Janna and Mea had caught up to me. They were going strong.
We spent a couple of minutes jogging and talking, but soon they were off. But not before they gave me encouragement in the promise of much beer at the end. It definitely kept me going.
Somewhere Between Mile 12 and 13 - Heartbreak
About 10 minutes after Janna and Mea ran off, I approached the next aid station, and I saw a welcome face, but not welcome under the circumstances. It was Tara, and she had her knee brace hanging off her right knee. I was at first surprised to see her because when we started at 7:30, she took off and I lost sight of her quickly. I had figured she was at least a mile ahead, and it took a minute for it to dawn on me that seeing her here wasn't good news. And I was right.
She started to have knee pain around mile two and bravely continued running for another 10 miles! By mile 10, the pain in her knee had become unbearable, and by the time she got to the aid station we were at, she had to stop and end her marathon early. She put on such a brave face when I saw her, but I could see and feel how disappointed she was. I stayed and talked to her for about 10 minutes, and then I had to continue on. It was really hard to leave her there, and I kind of knew at that moment that this wasn't going to be my last marathon. Between Holly's knee that kept her from even starting and Tara's injury, we still had 2 team members to get through a marathon. Edge to Edge 2012, here we come.
Mile 13 - 20 - Let the Mind Games Begin and the Second Wind
Miles 13 to 17 could also be called the dead zone. You're over halfway, so that's promising. But it took me more than 3 hours to get to that point, so I knew I had another 3 hours at least to go. That is not a pleasant thought. My legs are already feeling fatigued, and I just left one of my friends who couldn't finish. This was probably when my confidence was lowest. I just had so far to go, and I was running on the fumes of GU Brew, Powerade and water.
After 18 miles of running and walking on a nearly empty stomach, the last thing I expected was a burst of energy. But it happened. After about a steady 30 minutes of walking, I suddenly felt ready to run again. And at this point, it becomes a mental game more than a physical one. I knew I had some energy to run, so I started to. But I was afraid to hit a wall I just knew was coming, so I played mind games to get me through. Run until the next car comes. Run to the next beach turnoff sign. Run to the next water station. Anything to keep myself running.
Mile 20 - 23 - Where Did All These Fu#%ing Hills Come From?
Ahh...the home stretch. The road to Ucluelet. It won't be long now. Except...what the hell is this? Hills? At the 20 mile mark? Whose idea of a bad joke is this?
At this point, it's me, an injured couple and a woman in a red jog bra. We're all in close enough proximity that I can hear faint conversation from the couple, and the woman in red isn't too far in front of me. Like me, she's walking up the hills and running down. So I'm pacing her pretty well. Until I summit one hill, and I see her at the bottom, thumb out, looking for a ride. Is that an option? I mean, I know this is my first marathon, so I don't know all the rules, but I'm pretty sure hitchhiking to the finish is frowned upon. I don't know for sure that she ever got a ride, but I do know that after the next hill, I never saw her again.
Mile 23 - Tears
There it was. The only 5K to go water station. Just to be sure, I asked the wonderful volunteers at the peace themed water station how much further. "Only 5k to go!" I drank my water and a cup of Powerade and continued on, and then it hit me. Only 5k to go. I can do that! How many 5k's have I done? Piece of cake. And then tears. A few at first, and then they started flowing. It was the first moment I knew for sure that I'd finish. I was going to do this, and all the training and effort was worth it. And given the injuries that hit two of my friends, it was never a foregone conclusion that I would finish. Until that moment. And I jogged and cried. At least until I got to the next hill.
Mile 24-25.5 - More Fu#%ing Hills?
Now I'm officially in Ucluelet, and more rolling hills. Seriously, for the last 6 miles. Rolling hills doesn't sound bad in theory. I mean, what goes up must come down, right? But by this point, going uphill makes every muscle in my legs burn, and going downhill, I can feel each toenail pressing against the front of my shoe, separating from my toes with each stride downhill. I had vaguely heard of this losing toenails thing, but it wasn't on my list of pre-race concerns. Maybe it should have been.
Mile 25.5-26.1 - Where is the Damn Finish Line?
About this time, I'm beginning to wonder how big Ucluelet really is and if they're going to make me run through all of it. I mean, I entered the town about a mile ago, and I just didn't remember there being this many side streets. Every time I saw someone and asked how much further, it was just one more kilometer, then 500 meters. Will this thing never end?????
Mile 26.1-26.2 - The Finish Line, All My Friends, and the Sprint to the Finish
Now I'm headed down hill, and I can see it. The finish line. And because there isn't really anyone left out there with me (not sure if the hitchhiker finished or not), I can start to hear my friends before I see them because they can see me. It was one of the coolest feelings I've ever had. I felt this surge of energy (a combination hearing my friends cheer me on and my overwhelmingly intense desire to be done with this thing), and I started to sprint! Seriously!
And finally, after 6 hours and 45 minutes, I crossed that finish line. My first words? "THANK CHRIST THAT'S OVER!" That made a couple people at the end chuckle. Next, a medal, and then hugs from all my friends, my support, the people that got me through this. Janna told me when I sprinted across the finish line, it made her cry. It makes me cry just to type that, to know what great friends and great support I have.
After lunch, a nice hot shower and much wine, it was time to bask in the accomplishment and tend to the sore muscles. And to celebrate what an amazing experience the whole thing was. Not just the run, but the training, the injuries, the strategy dinners, the email chains about which anti-inflammatories work best, the post-training beers, the pep talks, the physical therapy, the friendship and the support.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, I finished 126 of 126. There were a couple of people who crossed the finish line after me, but they were either from the 8:30 start time or relay people. I was dead freaking last. And I've never been prouder of myself.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Pre-Marathon - Preparing for the Battle
The alarm went off at 5:15, but I was wide awake by then. I always have a fear of oversleeping for really important events, and that fact alone usually wakes me up a half and hour prematurely. Combine that with the sheer terror I was feeling, and I was wide awake by the time it started to get light at 4:30. Of course, waking up to the pacific ocean isn't so bad.
I started drinking one of my water bottles I had prepared with my GU Brew because I knew that eating anything would probably be difficult given my extremely nervous stomach. I did manage half a banana and about 1/8 of a multigrain bagel with peanut butter, but even that was a struggle. Janna, my roommate for this adventure, was just excited, not nervous. She's one of these people who doesn't get nervous for these races like I do, but on this morning, her excitement wasn't rubbing off on me.
I can't even really tell you why I was so nervous. I certainly wasn't competing to win. I was only really competing with myself, with my mind. Maybe that's why I was so nervous. I wasn't sure it was a competition I'd win. I also didn't want to finish last, and in a marathon with only 150 people, there was a better than even chance I might.
6:15 - Waiting for the Bus to Tofino
There were six of us outside the BlackRockResort waiting for the bus. Mea, Tara, Janna and me, and two men who must have thought we were crazy. Let me explain. As I mentioned above, I was nervous. And during the course of the trip, we discovered a little song/video that sort of became the trip mascot. In order to relieve the tension, I decided to play our song and got us all dancing. At 6:15 in the morning. To Baby Monkey.
7:30 - Start Time for the Slow People, but Where is the Start Line?
So we arrive in Tofino, and there are a handful of people around, but I'm not really seeing a start line or any evidence that a marathon is about to take place. Now to be fair, I was starting in the unofficial early wave start, but I expected there to at least be a start line.
Finally, we saw a lady with a clipboard and a pace car, and we knew we were in the right place. And then we saw the start line, before
And after.
Time to get this party started. On island time, of course.
Miles 1-5 - Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me Where to Turn?
So the horn goes off, and I take off with about 25 other early bird runners and walkers. I get off to a good start and am planning to follow my "run a mile, walk a minute" plan. But I'm slow, and soon, I'm at the back of the pack with about 5 others. This is nothing new for me. I run at a pretty slow pace normally, and with having to go 26.2 miles, I'm definitely pacing myself.
Now, the Edge to Edge marathon is an open course, meaning you share the road with cars. This isn't a big deal leaving Tofino because there is a bike path we ran on. It's also not incredibly well marked at this point because a) we're starting at 7:30, and as evidenced with the start line, they're not quite set up yet, and b) it's Tofino, which gives laid back a whole new meaning.
I don't know the course, but I know that at some point, I make a turn onto the beach. I just wasn't sure where that was, and with some turns in the road, there wasn't really anyone in front of me to watch where they go. So I jog on, figuring there would be a person or a sign. And I was right. There was a person. Unfortunately for me, he drove after me, stopping me about 1/2 kilometer past the beach turn, telling me I needed to turn back.
Yes, I went 1K out of my way. It was pretty discouraging, but that feeling soon went away when I got to the beach and was running along the surf. I didn't get my camera out to capture the moment, but luckily for me, Janna and Mea did.
Miles 6-12 - The Lonely Open Road
Running on the beach was definitely the highlight of the marathon. Unfortunately, it wasn't a long enough stretch, and soon we were back on the road where most of the run takes place, the road between Tofino and Ucluelet. And it was long. There were aid stations about every 2 miles, and it took me until the final aid station to realize they were all themed. The volunteers were all really great and put a lot of work in. A big thank you to them.
It was about mile 8 that the fast people from the 8:30 start time began to catch up to me, but until then, there were times when I couldn't see anyone in front of me. It was a little weird. This was also the point that the bear warning started to dance around in my head. Were they in the forest along the side of the road? Were there other animals? Hey, it kept my mind occupied.
At about mile 11, Janna and Mea had caught up to me. They were going strong.
We spent a couple of minutes jogging and talking, but soon they were off. But not before they gave me encouragement in the promise of much beer at the end. It definitely kept me going.
Somewhere Between Mile 12 and 13 - Heartbreak
About 10 minutes after Janna and Mea ran off, I approached the next aid station, and I saw a welcome face, but not welcome under the circumstances. It was Tara, and she had her knee brace hanging off her right knee. I was at first surprised to see her because when we started at 7:30, she took off and I lost sight of her quickly. I had figured she was at least a mile ahead, and it took a minute for it to dawn on me that seeing her here wasn't good news. And I was right.
She started to have knee pain around mile two and bravely continued running for another 10 miles! By mile 10, the pain in her knee had become unbearable, and by the time she got to the aid station we were at, she had to stop and end her marathon early. She put on such a brave face when I saw her, but I could see and feel how disappointed she was. I stayed and talked to her for about 10 minutes, and then I had to continue on. It was really hard to leave her there, and I kind of knew at that moment that this wasn't going to be my last marathon. Between Holly's knee that kept her from even starting and Tara's injury, we still had 2 team members to get through a marathon. Edge to Edge 2012, here we come.
Mile 13 - 20 - Let the Mind Games Begin and the Second Wind
Miles 13 to 17 could also be called the dead zone. You're over halfway, so that's promising. But it took me more than 3 hours to get to that point, so I knew I had another 3 hours at least to go. That is not a pleasant thought. My legs are already feeling fatigued, and I just left one of my friends who couldn't finish. This was probably when my confidence was lowest. I just had so far to go, and I was running on the fumes of GU Brew, Powerade and water.
After 18 miles of running and walking on a nearly empty stomach, the last thing I expected was a burst of energy. But it happened. After about a steady 30 minutes of walking, I suddenly felt ready to run again. And at this point, it becomes a mental game more than a physical one. I knew I had some energy to run, so I started to. But I was afraid to hit a wall I just knew was coming, so I played mind games to get me through. Run until the next car comes. Run to the next beach turnoff sign. Run to the next water station. Anything to keep myself running.
Mile 20 - 23 - Where Did All These Fu#%ing Hills Come From?
Ahh...the home stretch. The road to Ucluelet. It won't be long now. Except...what the hell is this? Hills? At the 20 mile mark? Whose idea of a bad joke is this?
At this point, it's me, an injured couple and a woman in a red jog bra. We're all in close enough proximity that I can hear faint conversation from the couple, and the woman in red isn't too far in front of me. Like me, she's walking up the hills and running down. So I'm pacing her pretty well. Until I summit one hill, and I see her at the bottom, thumb out, looking for a ride. Is that an option? I mean, I know this is my first marathon, so I don't know all the rules, but I'm pretty sure hitchhiking to the finish is frowned upon. I don't know for sure that she ever got a ride, but I do know that after the next hill, I never saw her again.
Mile 23 - Tears
There it was. The only 5K to go water station. Just to be sure, I asked the wonderful volunteers at the peace themed water station how much further. "Only 5k to go!" I drank my water and a cup of Powerade and continued on, and then it hit me. Only 5k to go. I can do that! How many 5k's have I done? Piece of cake. And then tears. A few at first, and then they started flowing. It was the first moment I knew for sure that I'd finish. I was going to do this, and all the training and effort was worth it. And given the injuries that hit two of my friends, it was never a foregone conclusion that I would finish. Until that moment. And I jogged and cried. At least until I got to the next hill.
Mile 24-25.5 - More Fu#%ing Hills?
Now I'm officially in Ucluelet, and more rolling hills. Seriously, for the last 6 miles. Rolling hills doesn't sound bad in theory. I mean, what goes up must come down, right? But by this point, going uphill makes every muscle in my legs burn, and going downhill, I can feel each toenail pressing against the front of my shoe, separating from my toes with each stride downhill. I had vaguely heard of this losing toenails thing, but it wasn't on my list of pre-race concerns. Maybe it should have been.
Mile 25.5-26.1 - Where is the Damn Finish Line?
About this time, I'm beginning to wonder how big Ucluelet really is and if they're going to make me run through all of it. I mean, I entered the town about a mile ago, and I just didn't remember there being this many side streets. Every time I saw someone and asked how much further, it was just one more kilometer, then 500 meters. Will this thing never end?????
Mile 26.1-26.2 - The Finish Line, All My Friends, and the Sprint to the Finish
Now I'm headed down hill, and I can see it. The finish line. And because there isn't really anyone left out there with me (not sure if the hitchhiker finished or not), I can start to hear my friends before I see them because they can see me. It was one of the coolest feelings I've ever had. I felt this surge of energy (a combination hearing my friends cheer me on and my overwhelmingly intense desire to be done with this thing), and I started to sprint! Seriously!
And finally, after 6 hours and 45 minutes, I crossed that finish line. My first words? "THANK CHRIST THAT'S OVER!" That made a couple people at the end chuckle. Next, a medal, and then hugs from all my friends, my support, the people that got me through this. Janna told me when I sprinted across the finish line, it made her cry. It makes me cry just to type that, to know what great friends and great support I have.
After lunch, a nice hot shower and much wine, it was time to bask in the accomplishment and tend to the sore muscles. And to celebrate what an amazing experience the whole thing was. Not just the run, but the training, the injuries, the strategy dinners, the email chains about which anti-inflammatories work best, the post-training beers, the pep talks, the physical therapy, the friendship and the support.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, I finished 126 of 126. There were a couple of people who crossed the finish line after me, but they were either from the 8:30 start time or relay people. I was dead freaking last. And I've never been prouder of myself.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, June 12, 2011
A Shout Out to my Four Marathon Partners
Well, it's over. I did it. And I'll talk about more about the particulars in an upcoming blog.
But first, I wanted to talk a little about the amazing women that took this journey with me. I never would have crossed the finish line if it weren't for the things that each of them gave me on this journey.
First, Tara. You are the reason we are all here this weekend. If it wasn't for you and that damned article in Northwest Runners magazine (and too much wine), none of us would have even dreamed of attempting this. You are my shopping, travel and now running inspiration, and I promise to come back and do it again with you next year. But next time, we'll run together because my best training runs were when you were there pushing me.
Holly, you are such a super stud runner that the only reason you were held back this weekend is that you are so fast, it takes the messages from your body time to catch up. So many times through this, you encouraged me when I was injured, sick or just frustrated at how slow I was. And your friendship has been invaluable to me. As I said to Tara, we will all come back and do this again next year. I promise.
Mea, you are such a supportive friend. You made me believe I could actually do this, and you seem to think I can do more, but we'll discuss that later. :-) I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other so much better through this, and I might let you talk me into an olympic marathon, but we'll wait and see. ;-)
Janna, your positive outlook on everything is so infectious and inspires me, not just with running, but in life. Knowing that you are in for adventures like this encourages me to do things I might not do without you. I'm so proud of how you overcame so much to rock this marathon, even wearing bright pink socks to get it done. I am so looking forward to our next adventure together (as long as there's wine).
To all of you, from the decision to do this, to commiserating over our various injuries to all our training runs and subsequent celebrations, this has been one of the best experiences of my life. 2012 Edge to Edge, here we come.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
But first, I wanted to talk a little about the amazing women that took this journey with me. I never would have crossed the finish line if it weren't for the things that each of them gave me on this journey.
First, Tara. You are the reason we are all here this weekend. If it wasn't for you and that damned article in Northwest Runners magazine (and too much wine), none of us would have even dreamed of attempting this. You are my shopping, travel and now running inspiration, and I promise to come back and do it again with you next year. But next time, we'll run together because my best training runs were when you were there pushing me.
Holly, you are such a super stud runner that the only reason you were held back this weekend is that you are so fast, it takes the messages from your body time to catch up. So many times through this, you encouraged me when I was injured, sick or just frustrated at how slow I was. And your friendship has been invaluable to me. As I said to Tara, we will all come back and do this again next year. I promise.
Mea, you are such a supportive friend. You made me believe I could actually do this, and you seem to think I can do more, but we'll discuss that later. :-) I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other so much better through this, and I might let you talk me into an olympic marathon, but we'll wait and see. ;-)
Janna, your positive outlook on everything is so infectious and inspires me, not just with running, but in life. Knowing that you are in for adventures like this encourages me to do things I might not do without you. I'm so proud of how you overcame so much to rock this marathon, even wearing bright pink socks to get it done. I am so looking forward to our next adventure together (as long as there's wine).
To all of you, from the decision to do this, to commiserating over our various injuries to all our training runs and subsequent celebrations, this has been one of the best experiences of my life. 2012 Edge to Edge, here we come.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, June 11, 2011
One More Sleep and Then The Fun Begins
It's go time. I'm sitting in my unbelievably gorgeous hotel room at the Black Rock Resort staring out at the ocean and a surprisingly clear sky as the sun sets. I've mixed together my GU brew and laid out my clothes, and now all that is left to do is run 26.2 miles.
Yikes.
Today was packet pickup day and a free day to explore Tofino and Ucluelet. And may I say, I love it here. A remote surfer community on upper Vancouver Island. Who would have known?
As promised, there is wildlife, but to my eyes, no bears yet. You might remember from an earlier post that one of the distinct charms of this marathon was the possibility of seeing bears. And with the exception of Janna and me, everyone has seen one. In fact, the Tofino Visitors Centre has even issued a warning.
But the wildlife is here in abundance. At breakfast, the entire restaurant abandoned their meals to view a couple of passing Orcas. There are deer aplenty, and we saw a sea lion bobbing in the water in front of our hotel. During a late afternoon adult beverage outside at a great place called Shelter, we were graced with two very majestic bald eagles perched just overhead.
All of this has made for a great setting for my first marathon, and at this time tomorrow, all the work and friendship and support and injuries will hopefully pay off in a marathon finish. Here goes nothing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Yikes.
Today was packet pickup day and a free day to explore Tofino and Ucluelet. And may I say, I love it here. A remote surfer community on upper Vancouver Island. Who would have known?
As promised, there is wildlife, but to my eyes, no bears yet. You might remember from an earlier post that one of the distinct charms of this marathon was the possibility of seeing bears. And with the exception of Janna and me, everyone has seen one. In fact, the Tofino Visitors Centre has even issued a warning.
But the wildlife is here in abundance. At breakfast, the entire restaurant abandoned their meals to view a couple of passing Orcas. There are deer aplenty, and we saw a sea lion bobbing in the water in front of our hotel. During a late afternoon adult beverage outside at a great place called Shelter, we were graced with two very majestic bald eagles perched just overhead.
All of this has made for a great setting for my first marathon, and at this time tomorrow, all the work and friendship and support and injuries will hopefully pay off in a marathon finish. Here goes nothing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Marine Dr,Ucluelet,Canada
Friday, June 10, 2011
3 days to go: Venturing to Victoria
All packed and ready to go, and we're off for Victoria. It was a relatively easy drive to the border until I was questioned by Canadian customs. When he asked me where I was going, I said, "Ucluelet! To run a marathon!" Suspiciously, he said, "there is no marathon in Ucluelet," at which point, I noticed a second customs agent walk over and size up me and my car. After much convincing and even showing him the race web page, he waved me through and I continued on to the ferry, where I stared in amazement as to the scope and size of the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal. It was so big, a guy selling makeup offered to change my life.
The terminal was only matched by the actual ferry, which is huge. It has its own buffet and spa. It was an unbelievably beautiful ride. The ferry slaloms between little islands on its way to Victoria, some so close on either side that you could see the pebbles on the beach.
Arriving in Victoria, I was not disappointed at its beauty. This is my first time in Victoria, and it's much larger than I thought it would be. Among the sites from today were: the Empress Hotel, a statue of Captain John Cook in a Canucks jersey,
and a fiddling Darth Vader.
I had said that I was going to lay off wine until after the race, but a rooftop setting at dusk foiled that plan. Besides, isn't red wine good for you? I keep reading articles that it cures everything from athletes foot to old age. It's got to be good marathon training, right?
Anyway, tomorrow we are off to Ucluelet, the site of the marathon. Now the nerves start to sink in.
Tomorrow, the long trek up island will still take less time than I will to run the marathon.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The terminal was only matched by the actual ferry, which is huge. It has its own buffet and spa. It was an unbelievably beautiful ride. The ferry slaloms between little islands on its way to Victoria, some so close on either side that you could see the pebbles on the beach.
Arriving in Victoria, I was not disappointed at its beauty. This is my first time in Victoria, and it's much larger than I thought it would be. Among the sites from today were: the Empress Hotel, a statue of Captain John Cook in a Canucks jersey,
and a fiddling Darth Vader.
I had said that I was going to lay off wine until after the race, but a rooftop setting at dusk foiled that plan. Besides, isn't red wine good for you? I keep reading articles that it cures everything from athletes foot to old age. It's got to be good marathon training, right?
Anyway, tomorrow we are off to Ucluelet, the site of the marathon. Now the nerves start to sink in.
Tomorrow, the long trek up island will still take less time than I will to run the marathon.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Victoria, BC
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Packing Up The Tools for a Successful Marathon
Four days to go until race day, but one day to go until I leave for Canada. Packing for this trip is much different than other vacations because my biggest focus is on items I'll need for the race.
But first, don't forget your passport! Okay, now that I can get across the border, what are the tools of a successful Edge to Edge marathoner?
First, fuel for the run. My favorite? Has to be Shot Blocks. Shot Blocks rock. They are little gel cubes, or energy chews as they are identified on the packaging. Shot Blocks were created by the creator of the Clif Bar and they have long been a staple of my triathlon training. They're easy to carry, easy to digest and rather yummy. Shot Blocks...check.
Next, GU Brew electrolyte powder. Now normally, I'm strictly a water drinker, but after talking to countless distance runners, all of them said I need some sort of electrolyte or glucose liquid. After trying several powders and goos on long training runs, I settled on orange flavored GU Brew, which isn't too sweet and is pretty easy to mix up on the run, so to speak.
Finally, bear bell. Bear bell? Why the hell would I need a bear bell for a marathon, you ask. Well, that's a good question. Apparently one of the enticing things about this particular marathon to my friend Tara was the description that "runners may even spot a bear while running through some of the wilderness areas."
Now, on the one hand, that's kind of cool that we might see a bear. On the other hand, I'm pretty slow and destined to be near the back of the pack, or as it might be known on Sunday, bear lunch. So I'm hoping that the bear bell will keep Yogi and Boo Boo at a nice safe distance and will not act as a dinner bell.
Special socks, running shoes, running pants, dri-fit shirt in case of rain, iPod, hat, heart monitor, check, check, check. I think I'm ready to go.
Tomorrow...my first visit to Victoria eve. High tea and carbo loading.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
But first, don't forget your passport! Okay, now that I can get across the border, what are the tools of a successful Edge to Edge marathoner?
First, fuel for the run. My favorite? Has to be Shot Blocks. Shot Blocks rock. They are little gel cubes, or energy chews as they are identified on the packaging. Shot Blocks were created by the creator of the Clif Bar and they have long been a staple of my triathlon training. They're easy to carry, easy to digest and rather yummy. Shot Blocks...check.
Next, GU Brew electrolyte powder. Now normally, I'm strictly a water drinker, but after talking to countless distance runners, all of them said I need some sort of electrolyte or glucose liquid. After trying several powders and goos on long training runs, I settled on orange flavored GU Brew, which isn't too sweet and is pretty easy to mix up on the run, so to speak.
Finally, bear bell. Bear bell? Why the hell would I need a bear bell for a marathon, you ask. Well, that's a good question. Apparently one of the enticing things about this particular marathon to my friend Tara was the description that "runners may even spot a bear while running through some of the wilderness areas."
Now, on the one hand, that's kind of cool that we might see a bear. On the other hand, I'm pretty slow and destined to be near the back of the pack, or as it might be known on Sunday, bear lunch. So I'm hoping that the bear bell will keep Yogi and Boo Boo at a nice safe distance and will not act as a dinner bell.
Special socks, running shoes, running pants, dri-fit shirt in case of rain, iPod, hat, heart monitor, check, check, check. I think I'm ready to go.
Tomorrow...my first visit to Victoria eve. High tea and carbo loading.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
5...4...3...2...1...
Five more days. The marathon is just 5 days away. And believe it or not, I'm excited.
Through all the injuries, illness, training, doubts and fears, I know that, barring any unforeseen injuries, I'll finish. Not only that, but I'll finish strong. And so will my friends.
But, what I've learned is that I didn't do this just to finish. I finally realize that I did it for the journey. The journey has made this whole experience something I will treasure forever.
I learned that despite my insecurities about being the slowest runner and holding people back, I like running with a friend better than I like running alone. I like the support I get and the encouragement I can give. I like having that friendly face waiting for me as I come around the corner at mile 5 and encouraging her to start running again because I'm not quite ready for that walk break. And what keeps me going is the shared experience of each training run and having that celebratory beer at the end.
I learned that training for a marathon is a lot like life and vice versa. Some days the runs are easy and natural and you feel like you can run forever. Others, it feels like a struggle, like you don't know how you'll even get through the first mile. And it's taught me that it's all a journey, that even when you reach one destination, it's just a water station on the longer journey.
I learned that beer is hydrating, or at least it is according to an article I'm taking as gospel.
I learned that injuries are a part of the deal once you turn 40, and the key is managing them, stretching religiously and using that f#%king foam roller.
I learned that Shot Blocks rock and will be consumed by me every two miles.
And I learned that I'm doing this race with some of the most dedicated and most supportive women I know, and I am one of the luckiest people in the world to call them my friends.
So we leave for Vancouver Island on Thursday, and starting today, I'm going to make this a daily blog up until race day (thanks to the magic of my wonderful iPad), so stay tuned for the adventures of the Seattle Monthly Runners - Marathon Division as we head up to Canada and conquer the Edge to Edge Marathon.
Tomorrow...packing all the goos, electrolytes and supplements. Can I take all that crap across the border?
Through all the injuries, illness, training, doubts and fears, I know that, barring any unforeseen injuries, I'll finish. Not only that, but I'll finish strong. And so will my friends.
But, what I've learned is that I didn't do this just to finish. I finally realize that I did it for the journey. The journey has made this whole experience something I will treasure forever.
I learned that despite my insecurities about being the slowest runner and holding people back, I like running with a friend better than I like running alone. I like the support I get and the encouragement I can give. I like having that friendly face waiting for me as I come around the corner at mile 5 and encouraging her to start running again because I'm not quite ready for that walk break. And what keeps me going is the shared experience of each training run and having that celebratory beer at the end.
I learned that training for a marathon is a lot like life and vice versa. Some days the runs are easy and natural and you feel like you can run forever. Others, it feels like a struggle, like you don't know how you'll even get through the first mile. And it's taught me that it's all a journey, that even when you reach one destination, it's just a water station on the longer journey.
I learned that beer is hydrating, or at least it is according to an article I'm taking as gospel.
I learned that injuries are a part of the deal once you turn 40, and the key is managing them, stretching religiously and using that f#%king foam roller.
I learned that Shot Blocks rock and will be consumed by me every two miles.
And I learned that I'm doing this race with some of the most dedicated and most supportive women I know, and I am one of the luckiest people in the world to call them my friends.
So we leave for Vancouver Island on Thursday, and starting today, I'm going to make this a daily blog up until race day (thanks to the magic of my wonderful iPad), so stay tuned for the adventures of the Seattle Monthly Runners - Marathon Division as we head up to Canada and conquer the Edge to Edge Marathon.
Tomorrow...packing all the goos, electrolytes and supplements. Can I take all that crap across the border?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Marathon Training
Well, I'm getting into the meat of my marathon training, and the long runs on Sundays are getting longer. 12 miles. 15 miles. 18 miles!!!
But the weekend before last, I ran just a mere 6.2 miles. Oh sure, I was scheduled for a 10 mile run, but I didn't care. Because this wasn't just any old 6.2 mile run. This was the Vancouver Sun Run. And it wasn't just me running, but 11 of my good friends and nearly 50,000 of Canada's finest citizens, including winner Eric Gillis of Guelph, the first Canadian to win since 1998 (edging out, of course, the Kenyan).
The Sun Run is very special to me. It's really when I began running. I started doing this run 8 years ago with my friend Ravina, who lives in Vancouver. One day back in late 2003, she phoned me and asked if I would join her in running it in 2004. Neither of us were runners at the time, and this was a huge challenge we were undertaking. Even though I had done a sprint triathlon the year before, I was still more walker than runner.
Ravina and I trained together remotely. We both worked from the same training schedule and shared our experiences and results weekly over the phone. When race day arrived, I was terrified as we took a cab down to the start line at Georgia and Burrard. I couldn't eat the bagel I had prepared, and when I saw the throngs of people waiting to start, I wasn't sure I could make it 6.2 miles.
We found our purple wave and squeezed our way into the crowd of people waiting. And that's when the Sun Run took hold of me, never to let go. I looked back, and all I could see was wave after wave of runners. Same view in front of me. I felt this amazing energy that I was connected to, and I drank it all in as I excitedly waited for our wave to start.
Little did I know that once the race started, it got so much better. The Sun Run takes you through the heart of Vancouver, BC, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The beginning of the race takes you toward Stanley Park, where you just skirt the edge and then turn and run along the water. All around me were the faces of Vancouver - old, young, large, small, and every race and creed you could imagine. Some people were in costumes, one was even carrying a gigantic tennis racket to promote his sporting good store, Raquets and Runners. Lots of people wore group shirts that represented their work or school or cause. And about every mile, there was a band or musical group to keep us entertained, everything from old school rock to bagpipers to boys choirs and even Native American dancers.
At about the 5K mark, you cross the first of two bridges, the Burrard Bridge, and as you look right, you see English Bay with snowcapped mountains in the background. Just stunning. As you descend the bridge, the Molson brewery greets Sun Runners with encouragement. The next stretch is a couple of turns into a straightaway where you are once again overwhelmed by the waves of runners as far as the eye can see. And the finish, well, that is just about the best part. At the 9K mark, you ascend the second of the two bridges, the Cambie Bridge, and you can see the finish now, BC Place, the dome that hosted the opening and closing ceremonies of the 2010 Olympics. As you descend the Cambie Bridge, you take an offramp that leads to the finish.
As I reached that point of my first Sun Run, I got a burst of energy as I saw that finish line. No, I hadn't run the whole race, but I ran more than I walked, and when I caught up with Ravina at the end, who had done extremely well, by the way, we were so energized and proud of our accomplishment that we forgot to be tired or sore.
That was 2004. In 2005, I convinced my friend Lori to join me. In 2006, my friends Janna and Lori (another Lori) came up and did the race too. By 2007, I had convinced my friend Tara to bring her family up for the weekend with us, and now it wasn't just a race, it was a getaway weekend with a bunch of friends. This year's race was my 8th Sun Run, and now it wasn't just me; as I mentioned earlier, 11 of my friends joined me. We had a couple of first timers with us this year, and I feel pretty confident in saying that it probably won't be their last Sun Run.
It's an amazing experience to run around such a beautiful city with such a diverse group of people. It's a celebration of Vancouver, and it feels like the entire city is there to celebrate it. I always feel so privileged as a visitor to just be a part of it. Two years ago was the 25th anniversary of the Sun Run, and my friend Tara and I agreed that, God and good health willing, we will be there for the 50th and every one in between.
And now...back to the regularly scheduled marathon training.
But the weekend before last, I ran just a mere 6.2 miles. Oh sure, I was scheduled for a 10 mile run, but I didn't care. Because this wasn't just any old 6.2 mile run. This was the Vancouver Sun Run. And it wasn't just me running, but 11 of my good friends and nearly 50,000 of Canada's finest citizens, including winner Eric Gillis of Guelph, the first Canadian to win since 1998 (edging out, of course, the Kenyan).
Ravina and I trained together remotely. We both worked from the same training schedule and shared our experiences and results weekly over the phone. When race day arrived, I was terrified as we took a cab down to the start line at Georgia and Burrard. I couldn't eat the bagel I had prepared, and when I saw the throngs of people waiting to start, I wasn't sure I could make it 6.2 miles.
We found our purple wave and squeezed our way into the crowd of people waiting. And that's when the Sun Run took hold of me, never to let go. I looked back, and all I could see was wave after wave of runners. Same view in front of me. I felt this amazing energy that I was connected to, and I drank it all in as I excitedly waited for our wave to start.
Little did I know that once the race started, it got so much better. The Sun Run takes you through the heart of Vancouver, BC, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The beginning of the race takes you toward Stanley Park, where you just skirt the edge and then turn and run along the water. All around me were the faces of Vancouver - old, young, large, small, and every race and creed you could imagine. Some people were in costumes, one was even carrying a gigantic tennis racket to promote his sporting good store, Raquets and Runners. Lots of people wore group shirts that represented their work or school or cause. And about every mile, there was a band or musical group to keep us entertained, everything from old school rock to bagpipers to boys choirs and even Native American dancers.
At about the 5K mark, you cross the first of two bridges, the Burrard Bridge, and as you look right, you see English Bay with snowcapped mountains in the background. Just stunning. As you descend the bridge, the Molson brewery greets Sun Runners with encouragement. The next stretch is a couple of turns into a straightaway where you are once again overwhelmed by the waves of runners as far as the eye can see. And the finish, well, that is just about the best part. At the 9K mark, you ascend the second of the two bridges, the Cambie Bridge, and you can see the finish now, BC Place, the dome that hosted the opening and closing ceremonies of the 2010 Olympics. As you descend the Cambie Bridge, you take an offramp that leads to the finish.
As I reached that point of my first Sun Run, I got a burst of energy as I saw that finish line. No, I hadn't run the whole race, but I ran more than I walked, and when I caught up with Ravina at the end, who had done extremely well, by the way, we were so energized and proud of our accomplishment that we forgot to be tired or sore.
 |
| 2011 Sun Runners from Seattle (left to right) Sandy, Holly, me, Janna, Tara, Rebecca, Colleen, Steph, Kathy, and Cindy in front (the Loris, G and H, not pictured) |
It's an amazing experience to run around such a beautiful city with such a diverse group of people. It's a celebration of Vancouver, and it feels like the entire city is there to celebrate it. I always feel so privileged as a visitor to just be a part of it. Two years ago was the 25th anniversary of the Sun Run, and my friend Tara and I agreed that, God and good health willing, we will be there for the 50th and every one in between.
And now...back to the regularly scheduled marathon training.
Friday, April 8, 2011
I Have To Run How Far???
Well, tomorrow is make or break day in this marathon training. The 15 miler.
My hips are feeling good, and the last couple of runs have not left me too much worse for the wear. Granted, the longest run lately was only 7 miles, so this one is going to be a doozy.
But I feel confident. I'm under no illusion that I can run the entire thing. In fact, I have a strategy to break it up into 5 minute increments. Run 5, walk 1. And I'll do that for well over 3 hours. Not sure if that is easier in the long run, but mentally, it makes it more manageable for me.
I've selected a relatively flat run. There are 2 hills I know of, but nothing that should be too hard. And the rain is supposed to hold off at least for the morning. So there are no excuses.
I will report back tomorrow how it went. It's definitely in my head, but in a good way. I know that if I can do this, I can do this thing in June. Wish me luck!
My hips are feeling good, and the last couple of runs have not left me too much worse for the wear. Granted, the longest run lately was only 7 miles, so this one is going to be a doozy.
But I feel confident. I'm under no illusion that I can run the entire thing. In fact, I have a strategy to break it up into 5 minute increments. Run 5, walk 1. And I'll do that for well over 3 hours. Not sure if that is easier in the long run, but mentally, it makes it more manageable for me.
I've selected a relatively flat run. There are 2 hills I know of, but nothing that should be too hard. And the rain is supposed to hold off at least for the morning. So there are no excuses.
I will report back tomorrow how it went. It's definitely in my head, but in a good way. I know that if I can do this, I can do this thing in June. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Channeling The Tarahumara
In the book Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, which I referenced in a previous blog, he tells the story of a tribe of people that live in the mountains of Mexico. For these people, running is a passion and a way of life. They don't organize 10K's or marathons. Running is how they get around, and there is a pure joy for them in running.
I thought about these people on my recent trip to Mexico. This was a much needed vacation for me, and my plan was to try and get a couple of treadmill training runs in at the hotel in Cancun, where I stayed on the first and last nights of my trip. For the rest of my time in Tulum, I planned to take time off from training and continue to rest a couple of injuries that were starting to get a little better. In other words, I was going to minimize the chore of running while I was on vacation. I mean, who wants to spend their beach vacation working out? The word "work" is right in the phrase.
I arrived in Tulum to an absolutely beautiful white sand beach and a turquoise Caribbean sea. On the first morning, my friend and I walked the length of our beach, and we found that it ended a little over a mile and a quarter down the beach, at a cliff, upon which stood a Mayan watch tower. We had known that our hotel was relatively close to the Mayan ruins at Tulum, but to happen upon one of them from our beach was pretty darned cool.
When we arrived back at the hotel, my friend informed me that she was going to do a beach run, and as she said it, the idea sounded pretty cool. First of all, I could test out this whole barefoot running thing. Second, the weather was just cool enough to make it not too hot and unbearable to "work out".
I got on my running gear (sans shoes, of course), strapped on my heart rate monitor and set out. In my mind, this was going to be one of my required training runs that I could get out of the way so I could relax and enjoy my vacation. I had a whole plan for interval training ready to go. I was worried because I didn't have my music, but if worse came to worst, I could just walk. I walked down the stairs to the beach, and I started my run.
And then a funny thing happened. The hip injuries that I had been dealing with seemed to disappear after a couple of minutes. With each step, I could feel the sand between my toes and the warm Caribbean water lap at my ankles. I became very aware of the beauty of this place I was in, and I stopped thinking about my breathing or optimal heart rate. I was so glad to not have music so I could just drink in the whole experience. I just ran, and I think at one point, I even smiled. When I got to the turnaround and saw the Mayan watch tower on the cliff, I thought about the Tarahumara from the book, and I felt the pure joy of running.
I did that run - a little over 2 miles round trip - every single day I was in Tulum. That wasn't part of my training schedule, but that's not why I was doing it. I did it because it was joyful and such a great way to start my day.
Now I'm back in Seattle, where there is no white sand beach, no Caribbean sea out my front door, no Mayan ruin watching over me. How could I bring that joy of running back with me?
The answer came simply last Sunday. It was my friend Janna's 40th birthday, and she celebrated by running a half marathon. She is doing the marathon with me in June along with three other friends, and we all joined her on her birthday, a few of us doing the 10K instead due to our various injuries. But that allowed us to be there when she crossed the finish line, in just under two hours (1:58 to be exact), and I'm glad I didn't miss that.
As she glided across the finish line, she had this huge smile on her face. Not like the early finishers who looked pained and some who even got sick. She was joyful. Tired, but joyful at the accomplishment, happy to spend her birthday running 13.1 miles. She had channeled the spirit of the Tarahumara right here in Seattle.
So as I continue to train for the marathon and sometimes struggle, I'll be able to think back on those beach runs in Mexico and the joy I felt. But as those memories grow more distant, I'll be able to find the spirit of the Tarahumara in Janna and my other friends training with me for the marathon.
I thought about these people on my recent trip to Mexico. This was a much needed vacation for me, and my plan was to try and get a couple of treadmill training runs in at the hotel in Cancun, where I stayed on the first and last nights of my trip. For the rest of my time in Tulum, I planned to take time off from training and continue to rest a couple of injuries that were starting to get a little better. In other words, I was going to minimize the chore of running while I was on vacation. I mean, who wants to spend their beach vacation working out? The word "work" is right in the phrase.
 |
| Not the watch tower we could see from the beach, but there was one at each corner, and the one I saw looked just like this. |
When we arrived back at the hotel, my friend informed me that she was going to do a beach run, and as she said it, the idea sounded pretty cool. First of all, I could test out this whole barefoot running thing. Second, the weather was just cool enough to make it not too hot and unbearable to "work out".
I got on my running gear (sans shoes, of course), strapped on my heart rate monitor and set out. In my mind, this was going to be one of my required training runs that I could get out of the way so I could relax and enjoy my vacation. I had a whole plan for interval training ready to go. I was worried because I didn't have my music, but if worse came to worst, I could just walk. I walked down the stairs to the beach, and I started my run.
 |
| The barefoot runner. |
I did that run - a little over 2 miles round trip - every single day I was in Tulum. That wasn't part of my training schedule, but that's not why I was doing it. I did it because it was joyful and such a great way to start my day.
Now I'm back in Seattle, where there is no white sand beach, no Caribbean sea out my front door, no Mayan ruin watching over me. How could I bring that joy of running back with me?
The answer came simply last Sunday. It was my friend Janna's 40th birthday, and she celebrated by running a half marathon. She is doing the marathon with me in June along with three other friends, and we all joined her on her birthday, a few of us doing the 10K instead due to our various injuries. But that allowed us to be there when she crossed the finish line, in just under two hours (1:58 to be exact), and I'm glad I didn't miss that.
 |
| My friend Janna at the end of the half marathon. |
So as I continue to train for the marathon and sometimes struggle, I'll be able to think back on those beach runs in Mexico and the joy I felt. But as those memories grow more distant, I'll be able to find the spirit of the Tarahumara in Janna and my other friends training with me for the marathon.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Another Setback...But Also a Lesson Learned
February was a tough month for me training-wise. As in, I didn't do much of it. The person who never gets sick (me) got a terrible upper respiratory infection that sidelined her for three weeks, and it's really only now in the sixth week since getting ill that I'm feeling 100% again with my breathing. There was a benefit to the time off, though, and it's that I had the opportunity to rest my injured left hip flexor. The rest, combined with some physical therapy during that time to restrengthen the muscle, seems to have helped, and I'd say it's at about 90%.
Great news, right? I could jump right back into the training and pick up where I left off and I'd still be on target for the marathon in June. Except that I found out it doesn't work that way, and just to remind me of that, now my right hip is messed up, probably bursitis.
I thought that much of the challenge of training for a marathon was going to be mental. Running 26.2 miles isn't just a physical endeavor. You have to contend with the aches and pains and the walls you will hit during the run. It's why the phrase "it's a marathon, not a sprint" exists. It's like a little microcosm of life, complete with ups, downs, failures and triumphs. And training for a marathon is the same way.
When I started this blog, I said that part of putting my story out there was to hold me accountable and make sure I do this. I didn't want to have any excuse to quit when it got hard mentally. I wanted to weather the ups and downs and ultimately triumph. What I didn't know was that the mental challenges would not be my only challenges. I had no idea that my body might not cooperate. I had never had injuries due to athletic activity. I figured my only hurdles would be mental, and I spent all my time preparing for those.
So what is this lesson that I've learned? That I'm old and my body might not hold up the way it did when I was 30-something? No. In fact, the lesson I learned is that the best laid plans sometimes don't work out the way I want or expect them to....and it's okay. That second part, that's the part I learned. That it's okay if things outside my control - like a physical injury (or a boyfriend dumping me unexpectedly over the phone) - mean that I have to do the half-marathon instead of the full (or that I have to sign up for Match.com yet again). That it's how I react to the setback that matters, by accepting it and by not making it mean something negative about me.
I guess I've had to learn this lesson before (recently, even), but I admit that I've never been great at accepting when my plans don't work out. I've never been great at letting go. And that's what this is. Letting go of something and not feeling like a failure that it didn't work out. Accepting what is and making the best of the situation. That is the gift I've gotten from this experience.
Now, before you ask, I have every intention of doing the marathon in June. I hope to resume my training as soon as I rest this latest injury, and I will do everything in my power to prevent further injuries by stretching, using the evil foam roller, buying new shoes and even trying barefoot running. I really want to accomplish this goal more than anything.
But if my physical limitations prevent me from being able to run 26.2 miles on June 12th, then I'll run 13.1 miles on June 12th and celebrate the accomplishment just as happily. And then I'll sign up for another marathon at a later date and hope that my hips hold up for that one.
Great news, right? I could jump right back into the training and pick up where I left off and I'd still be on target for the marathon in June. Except that I found out it doesn't work that way, and just to remind me of that, now my right hip is messed up, probably bursitis.
I thought that much of the challenge of training for a marathon was going to be mental. Running 26.2 miles isn't just a physical endeavor. You have to contend with the aches and pains and the walls you will hit during the run. It's why the phrase "it's a marathon, not a sprint" exists. It's like a little microcosm of life, complete with ups, downs, failures and triumphs. And training for a marathon is the same way.
When I started this blog, I said that part of putting my story out there was to hold me accountable and make sure I do this. I didn't want to have any excuse to quit when it got hard mentally. I wanted to weather the ups and downs and ultimately triumph. What I didn't know was that the mental challenges would not be my only challenges. I had no idea that my body might not cooperate. I had never had injuries due to athletic activity. I figured my only hurdles would be mental, and I spent all my time preparing for those.
So what is this lesson that I've learned? That I'm old and my body might not hold up the way it did when I was 30-something? No. In fact, the lesson I learned is that the best laid plans sometimes don't work out the way I want or expect them to....and it's okay. That second part, that's the part I learned. That it's okay if things outside my control - like a physical injury (or a boyfriend dumping me unexpectedly over the phone) - mean that I have to do the half-marathon instead of the full (or that I have to sign up for Match.com yet again). That it's how I react to the setback that matters, by accepting it and by not making it mean something negative about me.
I guess I've had to learn this lesson before (recently, even), but I admit that I've never been great at accepting when my plans don't work out. I've never been great at letting go. And that's what this is. Letting go of something and not feeling like a failure that it didn't work out. Accepting what is and making the best of the situation. That is the gift I've gotten from this experience.
Now, before you ask, I have every intention of doing the marathon in June. I hope to resume my training as soon as I rest this latest injury, and I will do everything in my power to prevent further injuries by stretching, using the evil foam roller, buying new shoes and even trying barefoot running. I really want to accomplish this goal more than anything.
But if my physical limitations prevent me from being able to run 26.2 miles on June 12th, then I'll run 13.1 miles on June 12th and celebrate the accomplishment just as happily. And then I'll sign up for another marathon at a later date and hope that my hips hold up for that one.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Barefoot Running? Really?
I'm currently reading this book, Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. It was a gift from my good friend, Holly. And I've reached the point in the book where it talks about all our modern-day running injuries being caused by modern-day running shoes. Seriously, everything that has been hurting in my left leg, the fallen arches and all of it, caused because I spend $200 on running shoes and custom insoles? Consider me skeptical, but intrigued. I read on.
Apparently there is a scientific explanation for this. As we add more support and shield our feet from their natural position, it weakens the foot. By going barefoot or in cheap shoes without support and cushion, you actually strengthen the foot and reduce the risk of a whole bunch of problems, many of which I'm having right now. In fact, according to a study led by a Swiss doctor, "runners wearing top of the line shoes are 123% more likely to get injured than runners in cheap shoes." Hmm...I can fix my injuries AND save money on running shoes. This is worth trying for sure.
And there are now styles of running that are being taught that have emerged from the barefoot phenomenon. One, Chi Running, is one that I went to a short workshop on, and in just 20 minutes, I felt more comfortable running that way than I ever have. I loved it, and I shared my 20 minute education with all my running friends, but a few months after the short workshop, I went back to my plodding style, slow and apparenly, injury-prone. Now, I'm not sure why I gave up on it.
I still have about 20% of the book left, but I'm ready to at least introduce barefoot running into my routine once a week. Maybe my weekly short run on a local track to see if it makes a difference. I'm also ready to give Chi Running another try. The place that offered the short workshop I attended offers a day-long training, and I think I'm going to sign up for the next one. Hey, it can't hurt, right?
Oh, and read the book. It's a great story with very colorful characters, a few of which I'd kill if I met in person (talking to you, Jenn). But it's fascinating and hard to put down. You will enjoy it even if you are not a runner.
Apparently there is a scientific explanation for this. As we add more support and shield our feet from their natural position, it weakens the foot. By going barefoot or in cheap shoes without support and cushion, you actually strengthen the foot and reduce the risk of a whole bunch of problems, many of which I'm having right now. In fact, according to a study led by a Swiss doctor, "runners wearing top of the line shoes are 123% more likely to get injured than runners in cheap shoes." Hmm...I can fix my injuries AND save money on running shoes. This is worth trying for sure.
And there are now styles of running that are being taught that have emerged from the barefoot phenomenon. One, Chi Running, is one that I went to a short workshop on, and in just 20 minutes, I felt more comfortable running that way than I ever have. I loved it, and I shared my 20 minute education with all my running friends, but a few months after the short workshop, I went back to my plodding style, slow and apparenly, injury-prone. Now, I'm not sure why I gave up on it.
I still have about 20% of the book left, but I'm ready to at least introduce barefoot running into my routine once a week. Maybe my weekly short run on a local track to see if it makes a difference. I'm also ready to give Chi Running another try. The place that offered the short workshop I attended offers a day-long training, and I think I'm going to sign up for the next one. Hey, it can't hurt, right?
Oh, and read the book. It's a great story with very colorful characters, a few of which I'd kill if I met in person (talking to you, Jenn). But it's fascinating and hard to put down. You will enjoy it even if you are not a runner.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Landing on the Disabled List...sort of
Last time, I shared that I had my first injury. Of course, as one who hasn't been injured much in life, I hoped, like the common cold, I could play through the pain and it would go away. Didn't happen.
So it was off to the doctor for me. Of course, the joys of health insurance mean that I have to go to my primary doctor, who will probably not be able to diagnose anything and then will send me off to someone who can actually help me. Well, I was half right.
My primary doctor was actually quite helpful. After asking about my symptoms, she had me stand up. "Well, there's part of your problem," she said. "You have no arch anymore in your left foot." In other words, the Fred Flintstone diagnosis...flat feet. She said that's what's been causing stress, probably in my hip and IT band. From there, she watched my walk and gait, checked out the pain areas and gave me the following diagnosis: bursitis in the hip, IT band inflammation and fallen arches. The good news? There's no reason I have to stop my training as long as I do the following:
So the lesson learned? It's not as easy on my body doing a marathon at 43 (44 on race day). There are more creaks and aches and pains to manage. There are flat feet to deal with and middle aged hips. But when I conquer all that and finish this marathon (and then take on my next challenge), I'll know that I welcomed and conquered the challenges - all of them - to do it.
So it was off to the doctor for me. Of course, the joys of health insurance mean that I have to go to my primary doctor, who will probably not be able to diagnose anything and then will send me off to someone who can actually help me. Well, I was half right.
My primary doctor was actually quite helpful. After asking about my symptoms, she had me stand up. "Well, there's part of your problem," she said. "You have no arch anymore in your left foot." In other words, the Fred Flintstone diagnosis...flat feet. She said that's what's been causing stress, probably in my hip and IT band. From there, she watched my walk and gait, checked out the pain areas and gave me the following diagnosis: bursitis in the hip, IT band inflammation and fallen arches. The good news? There's no reason I have to stop my training as long as I do the following:
- New running shoes stat
- Copious stretching BEFORE and AFTER running
- Heat followed by ice to the inflamed area after running
- Physical therapy
- Referral to a podiatrist
So the lesson learned? It's not as easy on my body doing a marathon at 43 (44 on race day). There are more creaks and aches and pains to manage. There are flat feet to deal with and middle aged hips. But when I conquer all that and finish this marathon (and then take on my next challenge), I'll know that I welcomed and conquered the challenges - all of them - to do it.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The First Injury
When a 43 year old woman trains for her first marathon, I guess injuries were inevitable. And in week 5, it's happened.
Throughout the years of my training for various things, I've had creaks and aches and pains, and those have definitely increased as I age. But this ache is a little different and is a little confounding because I can't quite diagnose it myself.
The symptoms: upper left leg stiffens up and gets painful on the outsite (IT band area) when I'm sitting for long periods of time, and then is painful to walk or run on. But it doesn't feel like a muscle strain, pull or tear. It almost feels like a circulatory issue, but whatever it is, it has hampered my last two training efforts, and it is frustrating the hell out of me.
I'm very lucky as to be very unfamiliar with the injury bug. So I'm not quite sure what to do with this turn of events. I want to keep training; after all, I have a schedule to stick to. On the other hand, I don't want to aggravate an injury that keeps me from my longer term goal. And I HATE going to the doctor, so that will probably be a last resort. I'm going to take the next 5 days off and rest my body, and hopefully that will solve the issue. I guess this is where I'm hoping this blog becomes a dialogue. Anyone know what's going on with my leg? Any and all comments and advice are appreciated.
Before I sidelined myself, I started 2011 off right and did the Resolution Run on 1/1/11. This is me with my friend Mea waiting to start the race. I did not, however, do the Polar Dip portion. It was 25 degrees outside already. Submerging myself in an ice cold lake didn't really appeal to me at that point. But you'll see in this picture hundreds of people who did.
Next blog: Recovering from injury and adding miles.
Throughout the years of my training for various things, I've had creaks and aches and pains, and those have definitely increased as I age. But this ache is a little different and is a little confounding because I can't quite diagnose it myself.
The symptoms: upper left leg stiffens up and gets painful on the outsite (IT band area) when I'm sitting for long periods of time, and then is painful to walk or run on. But it doesn't feel like a muscle strain, pull or tear. It almost feels like a circulatory issue, but whatever it is, it has hampered my last two training efforts, and it is frustrating the hell out of me.
I'm very lucky as to be very unfamiliar with the injury bug. So I'm not quite sure what to do with this turn of events. I want to keep training; after all, I have a schedule to stick to. On the other hand, I don't want to aggravate an injury that keeps me from my longer term goal. And I HATE going to the doctor, so that will probably be a last resort. I'm going to take the next 5 days off and rest my body, and hopefully that will solve the issue. I guess this is where I'm hoping this blog becomes a dialogue. Anyone know what's going on with my leg? Any and all comments and advice are appreciated.
Before I sidelined myself, I started 2011 off right and did the Resolution Run on 1/1/11. This is me with my friend Mea waiting to start the race. I did not, however, do the Polar Dip portion. It was 25 degrees outside already. Submerging myself in an ice cold lake didn't really appeal to me at that point. But you'll see in this picture hundreds of people who did.
Next blog: Recovering from injury and adding miles.
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