Finally!

5.5 years
more than 10k miles
7 marathons

And I finally did it well.

I was supposed to run the NYC Marathon this fall. I was a lottery reject and was finally granted registration this year. Sometime in late summer, I threw out any training plan I was trying to follow and just started running by feel. Enjoying the run. I became more comfortable at a faster pace. I giggled through almost all of my long runs because it felt so easy. I took in the nature around me, and I said hello to everyone I ran by. I was comfortable, I looked forward to my runs, and I was ready for NYC. No plan in mind, just enjoy the experience.

Then Sandy hit. Storm of a lifetime. And in the last minute, NYC was cancelled.
It should have been. While I was ready to run it if it was held, it didn't feel right. I was disappointed but a little relieved when the cancellation was announced.

I took a few days, thought it all over, and despite feeling exhausted and super stressed from the effects Sandy had on my family, I decided to run the Philadelphia Marathon 2 weeks later. I was running well. This should have been my race to finally break that 4 hour mark and run a solid 26.2. I paid the $200 fee and made it official.

The morning after NYC was cancelled, the day before it was to happen, and 2 weeks out from Philly, I set out for an 18ish miler. I figured if things felt fine I'd go 20; if my exhausted body said otherwise, 16 would be enough. I went the 18, and though it wasn't as smooth as my other long runs had been, I still felt ready for a good race day.

I was doing this one alone. My sister decided not to run it, and while I'm resigned to the fact that she'll always be faster than me at the marathon distance, running this one without her in the race meant I didn't have to think about how far ahead of me she would be. A little less to think about. I didn't want to have any fan fare about this day -- I kept the mindset that I was just heading to Philly for a long run, just like I had done so many times before. Although it upset my mom, I was ok with her and my dad not being able to make it over to the race because of my dad's knee replacement surgery. I realized it was easing my mind to think of the race as a 4 hour run, rather than 26.2 miles. For some reason, that sounded less daunting. I had my chicken, potatoes, and beer for dinner, laid out all my gear, and headed to bed. I reminded myself I had run comfortably for 20+ miles several times at a pace that would allow me a big PR, AND an enjoyable run. I was ready for a good day.

Tried as I might, I still freaked out on race morning. Parking was an issue, which wasn't the norm for us, and I told my sister I felt like I was going to puke. My stomach was in knots as we waited in the car and then on the porta-potty line in the hour+ before the race start. I just needed the waiting to be over. I just needed to start running. Soon enough, Aimee was snapping my pre-race picture as I headed to the special corral for the first wave of NYC refugees. (Notice my own attempt to keep me focused on enjoying the day -- my Brooks "Run Happy" shirt!)

I was in NYC-1, which was to start just after the elites and first fast wave. There were special announcements about us, and although I have run this race twice before, and I'm not from NYC, I felt a huge wave of emotion roll over me as they welcomed us and then played "New York, New York" as we started across the line. And then I was fine.

I got in my groove, I ran comfortably, I took in the crowds, the people lining the streets, the many signs welcoming the NYC runners, and the perfect weather. The early miles ticked by and I saw my friend A by her block, and then another friend running the half. I kept my pace comfortable and a bit slower, and decided early to stay ahead of my fueling and drinking. Soon enough I was running up the hill to Drexel, remembering seeing my friend E there last year. Then I was coming up to the Zoo, into Fairmount Park, and then down toward the river. I was comfortable. I smiled. Everything I was doing was working. I saw another friend, C, on his bike.

I made my way up to the Art Museum circle, the 12.5 mile mark, and kept my eyes peeled for my sister. I found her right where I thought she'd be. As I ran past, she asked how I was.

"I'm good," I said.
"Want me to jump in with you for a bit?" she asked.
"Nah, I'm ok," I replied as I turned the corner and headed onto Kelly Drive -- a place I'd run so many times before. Just 13 to go, I thought -- less than 2 more hours -- I can totally do this!

And then, as I got to Boathouse Row, just past mile marker 13, my right hamstring seized up on me. I pulled up. I couldn't even walk. I almost buckled over it hurt so bad. WHAT THE HELL!!!

I hopped to the side of the road and tried to massage the muscles in my leg. I couldn't move it. Here I am, running so well, ready to finally have a sub-4 marathon, and I couldn't even walk. I glanced over to a girl on the sidewalk and seriously thought I'd ask to use her phone. I'd have to call Aimee and let her know I'd be dropping out. I didn't run Philly, I didn't pay $200 on top of all the money I'd paid for NYC, just to limp in another marathon time that was way slower than I should be doing. I was pissed, and I was ready to quit.

And then I was pissed that I might have to quit. I was pissed that after all this, I wouldn't get the finish, let alone that sub-4. I was pissed. And somehow, after more than 2 and a half minutes on the sideline, I got my leg to move, and then walk, and then jog. And soon I was running again.

It hurt, it wasn't smooth, but somehow I kept going. I started looking for my fast friends that would soon be passing me on their way to the finish as I was heading out to Manyunk. I saw Matt, who ran his 2:39. I saw Colleen, who ran her 2:46. I was energized by seeing them. I was hurting, but I kept running. And I realized that if I just kept this pace -- slower than I'd like, but fast enough -- I'd still squeak in under that 4 hour mark.

I passed the beer table on the way into Manyunk and smiled, knowing I was feeling ok. I made the turn around at mile 20ish, and knew I was going to make it. Just keep this pace. As I climbed out of Manyunk and made my way back to Kelly Drive, I knew. Just keep moving. I was going to do it.

By the time I hit mile 25, my legs were feeling heavier, but I was still moving. No stopping, no muscle cramps, I was still moving. I was starting to get emotional as I made my way up through that final quarter mile of crowds. While you want the energy of all those spectators, it seems like that final quarter mile takes another 3 miles to get to the finish line. I knew I'd make the sub-4, and I was ready to be done, but I soaked it all in. I heard friends shout my name, and I waved. I caught Aimee's eye, and gave her a wave that meant, yup, I'm going to do it -- as my twin, she should be able to figure out that's what that wave meant, right?

I saw the finish line just ahead, saw my watch read 3:57, and thought,

FINALLY.

I got my medal and heat blanket, got some hot broth (best part of Philly's finish line!), and found my sister.

And then I sat down, because I just couldn't move my leg another step.

We sat there for a bit, caught up, and then headed home.

It was over.

I think I thought I'd be super excited about the sub-4. I think I felt like I'd have this huge wave of accomplishment swarm over me. Driving home, though, I just felt like I did something I knew was going to happen. I ran like I have been. The reality of it is, I could've done it faster.  I realized those 2.5 minutes at mile 13 were probably as important as the sub-4 itself. I didn't let myself quit. I had a good day, despite a bump in the road. Despite the stupid pre-race nerves. The swarm of accomplishment which never happened, was replaced by a swarm of confidence. I can run 26.2 in under 4 hours, like I've trained to do so many times. I don't need to feel intimidated by the race itself, or the 26.2 distance. I can do it, I can do it solidly, and I can even do it when the day isn't perfect.

Finally, I know I can do it.

Time's Passing...

Time's been passing by... I haven't felt like talking, really.

The marathon wasn't the day I wanted. Shocking, I know. *rolleyes*
This time, though, I feel differently about the experience. I'm frustrated, rather than dejected, which is a better place to be. Legs cramped bad -- especially my left quad and my right calf. I'm blaming the day on my pacing, though I'm not sure if that necessarily would produce such cramping. Whatev. I don't want to analyze it anymore -- I just want to get out there and run another one better...

I've been swamped with school work this year. Too many kids in my classes. Ugh.

I'm also working on renovating some stuff in my house. Floors, kitchen cabinets and countertops, window treatments, and a few other things. What I really want is the contractor on Property Brothers -- an HGTV show I'm addicted to -- to come do my house. If anyone out there has contacts with HGTV, let me know what I need to do to get on one of their house renovation shows, please!

So all that, plus working at the running store and now getting ready for Christmas, means I've been busy. And time's been passing by. Nothing too exciting, nothing terrible.

I Love Kinesio Tape

Three weeks ago, my right groin/interior thigh area started hurting. Pretty aggravating -- made me question if I'd be able to do the 21 miler I had scheduled that weekend.

I got through that run, and although the leg was bothering me, I ran well.

But I decided to take two recovery days after it to get the leg pain under control. I didn't run at all on Sunday, and Monday I biked. Then, Monday night, I thought, remember how the Kinesio tape (sort of)helped my calf last year?

Maybe it'll help my groin/thigh. So, I googled the video that shows how to tape that, and I did it. By Tuesday afternoon, I noticed a significant improvement. I kept the leg taped through that week, and by the next weekend, there was nothing to note about that right leg. All was well.

The following weekend (last weekend), I ran a similar route to that 21 miler I'd done, and at around mile 14 of 24 I noticed a tightening of my left lower calf/upper achilles area. My mind started freaking out. I still have 10 miles to go! This isn't just a little twinge, this is hurting! WTF!!! I stopped, massaged it a bit, then sucked it up and continued -- but ran the rest of those miles constantly thinking about whether the left leg was going to give out on me or hold up.

It held up, and I was pleased with the overall run, but it was definitely a tougher run than the 21 was -- and that was purely because of the mental mind play. Stay conservative -- the race is in two weeks, don't push the leg, run easy, etc., etc., etc.

I got home and taped up the leg. Wore the tape for the next 4 days, and took two days off again. Nothing the next day, biked the second. By Tuesday, when I ran an easy 6, the left leg wasn't really bothering me anymore.

Whew.

This is the most radical and crammed training I've ever done for a marathon, and I have to keep reminding myself just to run comfortably. So far, that's happening -- thanks, in part, to the Kinesio tape keeping my legs working!

That really happened.

You really did drink a few beers and barely eat dinner and then ran 21 miles the next morning.

You really did make it through all 21 miles with a right groin/adductor muscle pain that made you worry the previous 4 days whether you would be able to run at all.

You really did run at an easy pace for the first 10 miles, then speeded up so that the last 8 were fast. FAST.

You really did run better and more comfortably in those faster miles, with the groin pain fading significantly as you ran more.

You really did have the thought that if you just added 5.2 more miles, which didn't seem like it would be a problem, you would have PR'd your 26.2 time.

You really did exercise restraint, being smart and stopping at 21.

You really did fuel and hydrate well. Remember what you did.
You really did run strong and run well. Remember what you did.
You really did blow that run out of the water. That really happened.

40

This is what it looks like.

My sister and I celebrated our birthday with a fun night out with great friends. Despite my feet being WORKED by the super high heels I wore, I peeled myself out of bed this morning for a cool, crisp, sunny 10 mile run and then worked at the running store.

A good swim Friday, a 15 miler and lunch with my family yesterday, and then an awesome night with friends and a solid run today. Finished my 30's on a good note and got my 40's started pretty well.

No, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop telling people I'm 34.

20 miles of burn

I ran 20 miles on Sunday.  2 miles were easy on my way to the start line of the LBI 18 Mile Run.  The temps were ok (mid 60's), but the sun was warm at the 10:30am start.  My plan for this race, rather than trying to better my PR,  was to just log the 20 miles for the day.  2 before, then run easy for the first half and pick up the pace for the second half.  Total of 20 miles -- the longest I've run since May of 2010. 

My sister and I ran the first 13 miles of the race together.  We kept the pace easy and comfortable.  At the 13 mile mark/water stop, though, I felt a weird stabby pain in my left lower front side.  A cramp?  Maybe -- but it didn't feel like a normal cramp.  Whatever it was, it stayed with me for the duration of the race.  WTH!? I tried taking in fluids and then fuel.  I tried stretching it out.  I had to stop and walk just to catch my breath each time the pain returned.  I might fade momentarily, but it kept hanging in there and taking my breath away.  SO FRUSTRATING!!  The sun was hot, but I was feeling ok otherwise.  I had just run 18 miles solidly two weeks ago, and here I was having trouble with the last 5 miles of this race.  AGH!

Maybe because I wasn't trying to run a certain time, or maybe because I knew I was already 15 miles into my run at that 13 mile mark, or maybe because I kept thinking it would go away, I never got dejected about this speedbump.  Frustrated, yes, but not dejected.  Pissed, confused, frustrated, but not down and out.  The last five miles of the race, which were really miles 15-20 of the complete run, were slow and tough, but I finished strong and felt good about getting that 20 miles done. 

And when I got home, I jumped right in the ocean with my running clothes still on.  My nephew watched from the beach and asked why I was just standing there.  I told him this was my ice bath and I wanted my legs to take in the cold water.  He decided not to join me, so I dunked my head under the waves and then headed home. When I stripped off my top, my sister noticed my sunburn.

I had put SPF on before the race, and yet I still got sunburned. Huh. Shocker. I had another race day with warm temps and full sunshine.

Ideal temperature

50-55* 

That's it -- and I'd say closer to that 50* mark. 

I've run a lot of miles this week.  My legs should feel workd.  As the weekend approached, the temps dropped.  I ran 15 yesterday morning, and followed that with 10 miles today.  Both runs felt great.  Low temps, solid running. 

It's amazing just how drastically warmer temps and humidity kill my running, and how much better I feel in temps in the low 50's. 

I read somewhere that 55* is the ideal temp for cold therapy after physical activity.  In other words, directly applying ice can be too cold -- it stops the blood flow to the area, which is why you limit it to 20 minutes.  You then take anti-inflamatories to prevent swelling when the blood flow returns.  On the flip side, we don't use heat therapy to help recover from activity.  Apparently, 55* is the ideal temp -- it's cool enough to decrease the blood flow to the area while still allowing the flow of the capillaries -- thereby reducing the possibility of swelling. 

Scientific, yes.  How accurate is that?  I'm not sure.  But what I do know is that my muscles, my legs, my body run better in cool temps -- and that 50* mark seems like the best one for me.  Yesterday and today were strong arguments for that. 

Now if I could just get an ideal temperature day for my goal, distance races!