How To Go from 4:05 to 3:39 in 2 Months

It wasn't my intent to leave this half-written story for so long. Turned out to be really good timing, though, to have it ready to post today! If you don't know why, Google when The Boston Marathon is run. (or get your head out of the hole you have it buried in)

At no point during the four hours and 5 minutes I spent running The 2012 Jacksonville Bank Marathon did I think "I will learn to LOVE this experience for all it will teach me". But I totally should have. Because, without that mess of a race, I'm fairly certain I would not have run a Boston Qualifying marathon two months later. It forced me to go back to the drawing board and make some physical and mental adjustments.

I won't drag us all back into the December Debacle, though. I'd just like to share what I did for my 26.2 Miles on February 17th, 'cause...well...it seemed to work out okay.

Nutrition & Fueling: I belive it was Erin who shared some links regarding race day eating, a couple of months back. Until I started running long distances, I'd never had a problem with my intestines misbehaving. For example : I once ate a large burrito, enchilada, refried beans and rice about an hour before setting out for an evening run. (p.s. : that little tidbit falls under the "do as I say, not as I do" category, obvs)

Once I started spending more than 90 minutes on my feet, though, my previously brag-worthy, iron stomach turned into a big, dumb jerk. Through a lot of (mostly failed) experimenting and the aforementioned new fueling plans I was finally cautiously optimistic about not completely falling apart, GI-wise, during the race.

I ate less than 1/2 of a plain bagel at about 4:30 am, while waiting downstairs for my friends to join me on the shuttle. There ended up being some clock discrepancies, though. I waited for a couple minutes before boarding the nearest bus. (hooray for heated transportation!! It was right around 32 degrees) I sipped water, on and off, throughout the morning, but didn't take in any other calories.

$2 jacket from Goodwill, warm bus, very special self portrait

 

I'd cut up some Shot Bloks into easier-to-gnaw pieces and stuffed them into a ziploc. Those, plus one Clif gel would be my race fuel. I decided not to carry a water bottle, as there were plentiful stops along the course. Also, with the cold weather, I didn't see myself needing a ton of hydration.

 

I had a few pieces of the Bloks every 45 minutes, saving the gel for the final few miles. The amount and choices were happily perfect! There were a couple moments where I felt dry-mouthed and wished for water, but it didn't take long before I had cups available to me.

 

The only other, minor problem was the cold + chewy fuel combo. My face was so cold, it was really hard to chew those gooey bits. I'm sure the specatators were treated to a really special show every time I fought through that process. I've checked the race day photos and have yet to see any depicting that hideous scene. Either the photographers didn't catch it or they're kind editors.

 

The Early Miles: I'd made myself some little pace stickers, but they ended up under my arm warmers. I quickly realized they were going to be more of an annoyance than anything, so I kinda forgot about them. (until they pulled arm hairs. Then I remembered them)

 

I've gotten really good at starting longer races nice and easy. This one was no exception. The only glitch was, again, the cold. We'd been waiting in the corral for so long, that I could no longer feel my feet. It's real tricky to run a pace based on feel when you can't, stinking feel anything.

 

the freezing, lonely corral

  

With friends and family choosing to run the Marathon Relay, I had The Best Start, Ever (TBSE) as I got to run my sissy's portion, with her. We marvelled at our Frozen Feet Syndrome and smiled. A lot. Having her with me totally erased any nerves or jitters. I've never felt so comfortable, mentally, at the start of a race.

 

My goal for the 1st 3 miles was 9:00, 8:30 & 8:00. Actual : 8:56, 8:29, 8:00. Pretty good, huh? After that, I'd planned to clock in the next 10 somewhere near a 7:50 mm pace. Miles 4, 5 & 6 : 7:53, 7:51, 7:49. I tried to keep calm as I realized how amazing I was feeling, and the 3:35 pace group was behind me! That 7:49 mile felt ridiculously easy and I entered the beach (after cheering on my relay-ing friend, Kim) with a huge, euphoric smile on my face.

 

I underestimated The Beach.

 

looks so harmless, doesn't it?

 

I live in Florida. I've run on sand and dealt with chillier temps and wind, near the water. I was unprepared, however, for the endless, sand-filled gusts that were attacking us. While I knew that pushing hard and keeping my effort steady was the way to go, I was already realizing the unexpected toll it was going to take on my legs, later in the race.

 

Miles 7-9 were supposed to be at that 7:50 pace, but the sand slowed me down to 8:05, 8:24 & 8:11. I was already a bit ahead of where I needed to be to qualify for Boston, but I'd become attached to the idea of staying ahead of that 3:35 group. (I still know I'm fully capable of a 3:30 marathon. There. I've said it.) Moving on...

 

Leaving the beach was blissful, but I had to rally to shake of the fatigue those wind-filled, sandy miles had left me with. Luckily, neighborhood/crowd support was in full force in that area of Jacksonville. I maintained my form for my new, adoring fans. 

 

Mile 10 was a comfortable 7:52. The next stretch was a bit quieter, specator-wise. I was happy to have completed double digits, but was still too far away from the halfway point to really feel comfortable, yet. I ended up zoning out, a bit, as is my habit and ran 11-13 in 8:01, 8:06 & 8:07. I crossed the 13.1 mat ahead of my goal, but just barely.

 

I was still feeling infinitely better than I had been in the December marathon. I also decided it was time to turn off my brain, for a bit, as it was starting to let some negativity creep in. The ipod was switched on and I took a quick, mental break.

 

The 3:35 group passed me, and I was okay with that. They were still in sight. I knew I was slowing, but it wasn't considerable and I knew I had some time banked. Miles 14-16 : 8:04, 8:06, 8:11, 8:23.

 

uh-oh. Double-digits left to run, and my pace was creeping up. When mile 17 clicked off at 8:30, I had to start working so much harder, mentally, than I had the entire race. I reminded myself that I still felt good. (I really did) I was fatigued, but not sore. My stomach issues were non-existent, the sun was shining and the weather was absolutely gorgeous.

 

I peeled off my gloves & ear warmers with the hopes that I'd see The Husband or other friends, along the course and could toss them.

 

I glanced at my watch and saw an 8:4x, right after that 17th mile. UGGGHHH!!

 

I came around a corner and had caught up to a handful of marathoners (with the 1/2 marathon & relay being on the same course, you never know how fresh-legged the folks around you are) and an awesome realization hit me. I recognized the running form directly in front of me. It was a friend from my running group with whom I am extremely comfortable following.

 

That ended up being the relief I never knew I needed, but that showed up anyway. Mile 18: 8:17.

 

We wordlessly took turns leading, with brief water stop walks thrown in. He was starving and fading and I was running a marathon faster than I ever had. Not the best setup for teamwork, but it worked for us. While the next few miles were slower than I wanted, I fully believe they would've been even slower had I not been running with Josh.

 

Miles 19-22: 8:32, 8:32, 8:28, 8:35

 

By this time, I'd lost a glove, so I tossed the rest of my gear. (very sad about the loss of my favorite arm warmers, btw). I took my final gel, washed it down with some freezing water and just. held. on.

 

Around this point, I took my turn in the lead and Josh faded back. He never passed, again, but I knew he was close. I also knew I just needed to keep my remaining miles under 9 minutes/mile to finish under 3:40.

 

Typing this now, that seems SO easy! That morning, though, I was feeling tired enough to be ready to actually fall asleep. On my feet. It's hard to describe that type of fatigue, but it took everything I had, mentally and physically, to push through it. I drew on some of the thoughts I described in this post and kept telling myself it would be over, soon.

 

It felt like I was pushing hard enough to see 7:00 on that trusty ol' Garmin, but instead the final miles were pounded out in : 8:42, 8:39, 8:48 & 8:49.

 

There was a bridge. Hard doesn't begin to describe that climb during the last mile. There was panic at getting that far and seeing 3:4x on the finish clock. While that would have been a huge PR, for me, it was definitely not what I wanted to see. I also lost an earbud to the wind and was momentarily devastated at the lack of music drowning out my "Let's STOP RUNNING!" thoughts. Coming off the bridge, though, I saw two beautiful sights :

 

1. The Finish Line, adorned with pink balloons.

2. The girl in front of me pumping her fist across that Finish Line.

 

Why was that was beautiful? Because I knew she was in my age group and that she had just qualified for Boston.

 

I was close enough to see that I was going to do the same.

 

The last .36 (by my watch) : 7:45 pace (2:48)

 

I stumbled across and crashed into my poor husband who was trying to record the moment on his phone. Needless to say, that didn't work out so well, thanks to my ill-timed attack. I took for granted the fact that he, my sissy and my friends would be waiting. I'd completely forgotten the setup at this race that doesn't allow family/friends to be at the actual finish. Those sneaky guys had gone out of their way to be where they were. I'm so thankful, but totally not surprised.

I still love them

 

The bottom of my foot hurt pretty badly, as seems to be the norm when I wear the Pure Flows. The good they do outweighs that minor problem, though, so I stand by my decision to wear them for the marathon. Some overly attentive medics (maybe they read this post?) immediately showered me with ice and kind attention.

 

I was dazed and unable to form complete sentences, but I was done. Not only was I done, but I had shaved off almost 19 minutes from my best marathon time and had succeeded in qualifying for The Boston Marathon.

 

The day was still so beautiful, so I wasn't even a sweaty mess. I stretched...painfully, and grabbed my drop bag. Catching up with everyone was frenzied but ecstatic. Phone calls were made, hugs were plentiful and I even became BFs with Joan Benoit Samuelson! (well...we waved at each other, anyway)

 

There was quite a bit of re-fueling, that day, in the form of water, free beer, bananas, an entire pizza and a milkshake. In reality, I had no appetite. My brain tells me I need to replenish, though, so I do it. I actually didn't have much of an appetite for several days, later.

One marathon = one pizza

 

looked so tasty! Only managed a few sips. :(

 

P.S. I'm currently watching the race I hope to be running on this same day, next year. That's about the coolest distraction, ever, right now. ;)

 

For now, this is what I've got for you. I've had so much more to share, since then, but wanted to get this out, first. Thank you for waiting and reading!! 



 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



Feelings

I've been staring at this blank page since I raced my way to a Boston Qualifying time. It's not that I was unsure what to say, there's just too much I want to share. (and probably very little that any of you will actually care to read). I've realized I'm going to have to split it into 3 parts.

 

First: I'm going to have to get some feelings out of the way. They were/are integral and important.

 

Second: The Figures and facts. (mile splits, fueling, etc) It's not interesting to everyone, but I love to have it to look back on. Also, I've made poor Mike wait long enough.

 

Third: The actual race specifics. It's an awesome and fairly unique event. It deserves it's own story. This will likely not happen for a few months, though. I think, once Summer descends and my racing season ends for a while, I'll take that time to go back and share some recaps (expos, crowd support, after parties...that sort of thing)

 

See why this has taken so long? That took up a ton of space and it was only a boring intro!

 

note to moms: step out from behind the camera sometimes. Your children get frustrated when these are the only types of photos they can find with you in them

 

In 2004, my dearest friend (who was also nice enough to have birthed me) found a lump in her breast. She's a semi-professional worrier, so I definitely took it seriously, but didn't panic. She was active, ate healthy, had recently lost a bunch of weight and our family doesn't have a history of breast cancer.

 

I, heavily pregnant, joined her and my dad to hear the results of the biopsy. After what seemed like an eternity, they emerged from the office in tears. They were emotional wrecks (naturally) and started spilling out the bad news. 

 

For some mysterious reason, my every emotion, (even the pregnancy/hormonal ones!) were pushed aside and I just started getting down to business. I'm sure they didn't fully appreciate my immediate barrage of questions and detailed plans of attack, but it sure helped me deal. It was in that moment that I realized my role. I needed to be a source of strength. No, crying and showing raw emotions are not forms of weakness. For me, though, I couldn't break down in tears with them AND sort through how we were going to deal with Breast Cancer. I needed to be tear-free and business-like.

 

Weeks later, my mom and I attended a seminar at the local hospital. The volunteers were explaining various options for headgear during chemotherapy (wigs, scarves, hats) and ways to apply makeup when you've lost all of your eyelashes. They showed a video of heartbreakingly beautiful women, like my mom, who had suffered so much and were dedicated to helping others try to keep their spirits up. It was totally random, but I felt the tears coming. I waddled (still pregnant) to the bathroom and sobbed 'til I puked. My mom never saw, though she may have suspected. We finished off the class, laughed and played with the makeup samples and wigs and left feeling simultaneously devasted and hopeful.

 

 She's not called Grandma, she's "Buddy". Oh, and she loves babies.

 

In January 2005, I delivered a beautiful baby boy and my mom started down a long, hideously awful road of chemo and radiation treatments. We threw her a Hat Party, brought her popsicles when it was all she could stomach, scoured the surrounding cities for some sort of air freshener that was "Nothing" scented. (she became hyper-aware of smells and it further nauseated her) She was so physically weak and battered, but still so very "mom". Everything about her personality remained. I will never forget that. Wouldn't it have been so much easier for her to have just broken down and turned into a whiny jerk?!



"silly, Buddy, it's okay!" "I'm bald, too!"

During one of her follow-up Oncology appointments, the doctor (a runner) stressed to my mom the importance of physical fitness for recovery. At that time, my mom was in no shape to even walk for any length of time, but it turned on a switch in my brain.

Soon after, I started turning my (kinda) daily walks into attempts to run. I knew nothing other than the fact that I could move my feet faster than I previously had, without dying. Also, I loved it.  I kept the new hobby mostly between The Husband and myself, though. (my sissy recently mentioned this in one of her brilliant posts. Yes, my mom's illness and recovery had awakened a desperate need for me to keep my body moving. No, I didn't feel it appropriate to be all "Listen, mom, I know you can't even roll over without pain, but I found out I love to run!" Not good timing.

More babies...more life stuff...lots of time off running, but I re-discovered a passion for it a couple of years later. Short story long : My mom is cancer-free and I've proudly called myself A Runner for about four years. Seemingly unrelated until you toss in the Marathon I just ran.

If you haven't yet clicked on the link, it's a race to "Finish Breast Cancer". 100% of the profits go back into local breast cancer research and support. When picking my races for this year, it was hard to argue with the merits of that one. Since it'd be my third one in five months, though, I expected to just run it "for the cause". Once I fell soooo short of my lofty goals at this disaster of a marathon, though, I was dead-set on running these 26.2 miles in less than 3 hours and 40 minutes.

his Game Face is so much cuter than mine

 

I took the no-brainer route and decided to run this race For My Mom. Only, I didn't actually tell her I'd be doing that. To set a nearly 20 minute PR goal, tell her about it and then tell her how I failed would've been disappointing (for me), to say the least.

 

As I mentioned, all the numbers and race details will be included in the next post. Here's a sneak peek, though : For the majority of the race, I was ahead of the 3:35 pace group. When they passed me, and the miles started getting oh-so-dark, I started down the cowardly route.

 

I told myself it was okay to not Qualify For Boston, as I'd still have my fastest marathon finishing time, ever! That thought was thoroughly destroyed when I remembered My Reason, My Why, My Motivation for this race. Those frightening, surgery and misery-filled days flashed before me.

 

My mother had gracefully survived a Life-Threatening Disease and I was whining about keeping up my pace for 30-40 more stinking minutes?!

 

So I pushed on, without crying. All that strength that magically came to me when my mom was fighting this disease, returned.

I thought of Elaine, another very dear-to-me woman who fought (and fought. and fought) and did not, in the end, survive Breast Cancer. I started to choke up and instead smiled when I realized that, if she were alive, she'd be running this race with me. That type of crazy would be right up her alley.

At mile 24, I thought of Sandy. She, too, was taken by this disease. Instead of running, though, she'd very likely be praying for my soul, assuming I'd lost my mind by paying to run 26.2 miles. That, too, chased away tears and brought a necessary calm.

At mile 25, I was basically a robot. No emotion, no thought other than "You have NOT come this far to FAIL!" Then I saw The Dreaded Bridge and nearly lost it. I was desperately conjuring up images of my mom, my family, the tearful, joyous finish line I'd been imagining all year. That Bridge? It was winning.

Then I saw her. The lady on the left side holding a black poster with white lettering. She wasn't jumping up and down or shaking maracas, like the other spectators. She was simply looking right at me and smiling.

As I begged and pleaded for my shaking legs to make that final ascent, her poster lit those things on fire.

"I'm a Breast Cancer Survivor. Thank You For Running For Me"

We both had sunglasses on, but I like to think we made eye contact. I wish I could've thanked HER. I flew down that bridge and crossed that line while the clock still read 3:39xx. But the tears didn't come. The strength and basic lack of emotion stayed with me. Mostly I was in disbelief. It wasn't until several days later, much like the random sobfest with my mom, that it happened.

I was looking at my race photos and pulled up the Finisher's Certificate. For some reason, when I saw my name, followed by those final numbers, I just sat there and cried. (and cried. and cried) I finally realized that I set out to run a Boston Qualifying Marathon, for my beautiful and amazing mother, and had actually done it. It hadn't just "happened". I FREAKING DID THAT!

I'll never know why my mom was spared when others weren't. All I know is that I'm beyond grateful for every single day I have with her and I'll never be able to thank her enough for inspiring me to conquer seemingly impossible challenges.

 

 





We Interrupt This Running Blog

To bring you...

 

skiing!!

 

Some of my more intuitive readers may have wisely realized that this activity cannot take place in Florida. Indeed, wise friends, we took the boys for a long weekend to North Carolina. The two youngers have never tried any sort of snowy sports, so we figured it cheapest best to start them out on tiny, East Coast mountains.

 

Never ceasing to amaze, though, they took to skiing and snowboarding like ducks to water...or maybe penguins to ice blocks....whatever. They were naturals.

oh. They were really cute, too.

Bonus: The Oldest is big enough to wear The Husband's gear!

 

Middle-of-the-night road trip, followed by an entire day on the slopes should have led to utter exhaustion followed by complete meltdowns. Our children surprised us, once again, by being totally compliant, sweet and in total enjoyment of every second of the day.

 



snow angels

 

I know you were dying to know what my feet looked like when not clad in running shoes

 

On the off chance you stopped by my blog to get your much-needed fix of my awesome running tales, there was a bit of that on this trip, too. After our free!! hotel breakfast, I hopped out for a short, hilly jaunt. It wasn't quite as cold as it had been the previous day, and the overnight rain had washed away any snow. It was still lovely to be in new surroundings, enjoying the beautiful area and the feeling of the cool air on my cheeks.

one of the pic-worthy spots on my route

 

I spotted an enormous hill, just off the main road, and decided to attack it. First, though, I pulled out my phone to take a picture from the bottom. I've always seen photos of hills with a caption that reads something like this : "This picture doesn't do it justice" or "You can't really tell how tall it was from this picture".

 

Mentally scoffing at those who'd gone before me, I positioned myself just right to photographically capture a true depiction of the mountain I was about to conquer.

Listen, you can't really tell from this picture how high that thing really was

 

I made it just over halfway up before gasping and panting my way (carefully) back down. My poor, sick lungs were just not ready for that sort of challenge. That yet-to-be-recapped Marathon did a number on me!

 

We took our sweet, sight-seeing time back to Florida. The trip was long enough to squeeze in just about everything we wanted to do, but short enough to where we weren't aching for home by the end of it.

 

pausing the rock-skipping to pose for mom

 

How was your weekend? 





 



 

 



The Race That Got Me To THAT Race

I want to tell you all about yesterday's marathon. In order to get us all caught up to that point, though, I feel like I need to recap The Melbourne Half Marathon, first. It was really one of the key components to my race, this past weekend. Also, I started this blog to have a place to tell my running stories. Soooo..here's another one!

I ran this half marathon, last year (pre-blogging days) and ended up with a disappointing (for me) finishing time. The course was very cool and challenging, though, and the city put on a great weekend of racing . When registration opened for the 2013 event, I signed up immediately. I wanted more pizza and free beer after the race redemption!

Fast forward a few months:
Minus the whole Jacksonville Bank Marathon debacle, my running and training had actually been going very well. I'd kinda tapped into a new Racing Mentality during The Shoelace Fiasco Race and felt like some really good racing experiences were about to be in my life. I got a teensy bit greedy and decided to try to double-dip with this race. I hoped it'd be a good gauge for some accurate goals for my upcoming marathon, but I also wanted a new PR.

Spoiler : It was both!

Here's the thing. Every time I sit to write this recap, it gets longer and longer. It was my 9th half marathon. It shouldn't have been such a big deal. But it was. It was a game-changer, for me.

a couple of options for Game Faces, on race day

Overly dramatic? Of course!

Do I care? Nosiree

I fully acknowledge that plenty of magical factors were in place, this particular morning. The weather was optimal, for a road race. I was un-injured and very healthy, all around. The course contains two big bridges, but was otherwise flat and well-marked.

(source)

note: anytime the course map directs you over a big, blue area...assume you've got a bridge to climb

 

The Husband and boys were there to cheer* and I even had some friends from the running group to hang out with before we all started the race. Again, it was a pretty perfect setup. Here's the big difference between this race and all the others, though :

 

I set goal paces for every mile and forced myself to hit them*. It sounds so simple, doesn't it? You set a goal, and don't allow yourself to do anything other than reach that goal. In the middle of a tough race, that sort of logic starts to make less and less sense, though.

 

Number One: Racing Strategy finally "clicked" in my slow brain.

 

Number Two: It. Was. Easy.

 

I'd probably get a lot more admiration for reporting back that I struggled mightily for 13.1 miles, but managed to eke out a PR. Yes, it was hard work. However, it felt good enough that I started getting emotional at mile 5, because I realized, without a single doubt, I was going to blow last year's finishing time out of the water. That's how good this race felt.

 

Another indicator: My final mile was the only one where I slipped off the Goal Pace Wagon...because I couldn't slow down. It was my fastest. I was that really annoying person who sprints by the tired finishers, with tear-filled eyes, head held high and a huge smile.

 

I crossed the finish line, finally securing a shiny PR, and felt like I could've gone and run the entire course, again.

me and my (always faster) friend, Jennifer. No, I don't normally race shirtless. We can discuss, later.

 

By this point you're probably wondering why this post isn't titled: The One Where I Brag and Annoy Everyone.

 

My intent is, of course, to not do either. It was just an "a-HA" race, for me. I share in the hopes that it can help/inspire and also explain why I had the aggressive goals I did for my marathon.

 

1:39:28 Chip Time (1:44:36 in 2012)

(1:38:36 Garmin)

3rd F35-39

30th Overall F

98th Overall

 

As always, thank you for reading. Thank you for commenting, too, even if it's only to yourself. Knowing that there are people to share this kind of stuff with makes it that much more awesome, to me.

 

*In the extended recap, there would be details about vomiting children and how hard The Husband worked to keep everything together, that morning. I'm so thankful for him.

 

*Also included in extended recap, would be those actual mile splits and plenty of other race details



 

 

 

 

 



 

 

Short and (really) Sweet Sunday

So, the good news is : I managed to get a 19 minute PR (personal record) in my 3rd marathon, today!!

The other good news : Ha! I totally tricked you, didn't I?! You thought the good news was going to be followed by bad news. Nope. All good.

my only remaining arm warmer. boo.

 

That time, on that watch, qualified the owner of that arm for the 2014 Boston Marathon.

 

More details than you'll ever want to read are on their way...

Let Me 'Splain

...No, there is too much. Let me sum up:

from where most of my daily speech is derived

 

For every day that passes, without a blog post, the stories just start to build, exponentially. There are so many mundane, boring cool things I want to share! The longer it takes, though, the longer the blog-in-my-brain gets. No one wants to read the accumulation of the last two weeks. Right?

 

Tangent Alert!!

I should take blogging lessons from family members. For example: The Husband. Short, sweet, and to the point. Or I could make my posts extremely clever and awesome,  like my sissy's.  My Aunt, however, is an actual, real, live author so I have marginal chances of competing with her witticisms. Maybe I'll just be more like my dad and take a never-ending hiatus...

 

Anyway... here are a couple of quickie highlights. I sincerely hope to re-cap a couple of things, at length. I'm generally pretty good at following through with those threats plans.

 

I had a really, really, REALLY good half-marathon!!

 

ignore creepy background guy...and my frizzy hair

 

I made a 10-foot ReptileFriend on my latest trail run!!

I would've totally befriended the 4 ft gator, too, but the big one had already started eating him

 

I started working, part-time, with a company I love, doing work I love even more!!

Pretty much sums up "win-win"



 

I'll be running my third and (hopefully) fastest Marathon, this Sunday!!

 

I don't have a photo to include with this. It hasn't actually happened, yet. This is the race, though. I was part of the marathon relay, last year, and stupidly decided to run all of those miles by myself, this time. Woo hoo!!

 

We'll all catch up, soon. You bring coffee or tea (your choice) and I'll bring the ice cream.  

 

What flavor would you like?