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!! 



 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



Pride Cometh After A Fall

I was going to recap yesterday's 5k. I'll still do that this week. Today's initially innocuous run just took precedence in my tiny brain, though. Fair warning: there are some gross photos and fairly raw emotion included. Drama? Yes. Long-Winded? Mmm. Hm. Tempted to keep reading? Probably not.

If you prefer to spend your time reading something funnier, lighter and more intelligent, please visit my sissy's new blog and enjoy this post.

Having not run more than 17 miles since my mess of a marathon in December, I planned to knock out a solid 20-miler before this much-anticipated event. Training has been solid. Other than some overall fatigue, I've been feeling great. So, when preparing for this morning's long run, I set a goal.

Keep it easy, but finish with an average pace you'll be happy and confident about. That actual number's not important to the story, but I had a small range in mind.

Unfortunately, even after a relaxing night, good sleep and plenty of hydration, I woke up feeling pretty groggy and un-motivated. Coffee helped and I was out the door with little trepidation. It was (Florida) cool, very damp and foggy. The morning was still dark, quiet and almost silent. Everything was shrouded in creepy, heavy mist and it was too early for even die-hard dogwalkers to be out.

not quite as dark as this run ,but you get the idea

A lot of my runs begin this way. Normally I enjoy the peace. It's a chance to clear my thoughts, plan my week, set small goals and focus on happy moments my family and I have spent together, recently. Today, though, the dark miles passed very slowly, both physically and mentally. Yesterday's race was taking it's toll on my legs and I ran out of happy-go-lucky way too quickly.

Sunrise happened and helped my mood, immensely. And then it didn't. Oddly, for me, I felt very lonely. While most of my runs are solo, I was suddenly craving company. There were overwhelmingly ugly feelings of jealousy towards my running buddies I knew would be enjoying their miles with friends, today.

where were all these guys when I needed them?!

 

Then my phone rang. Sometimes, while "in the groove", the distraction can be a slight annoyance. Today's call was perfectly timed, though. My dear, sweet husband wanted to know where I'd be so he and the boys could come offer "on-course" support. We picked a place and I hung up with a smile to replace my former, sour frown.

 

Miles 8-14 were mostly a blissful blur. I threw in a challengingly faster mile, turned on my audiobook and looked forward to seeing my guys in a short while. The weather prevented me from even working up a real sweat. My legs were getting achy and fatigued, but in a good and normal way. The city was wide awake, finally, and the bevvy of new activity around me was a welcome distraction.

 

When I came up to The Husband and Middlest, sans vehicle, I realized they'd be hoofing it with me, for a bit. That brilliant idea was such an awesome surprise! Middlest rode his scooter (not so fast!) in front of us, and The Husband and I caught up on fun stories while he tried to slow his (much fresher) legs. After a couple sips of water, I left him with my half-full handheld as it was getting annoying to carry. With less than five miles to go, and the temperature being so lovely, I'd be fine without any more fuel.

 

They honked, waved, cheered and drove back home. I returned the wave and rallied my heavy legs to finish this run strong.

Quick disclaimer : "strong" and "fast" are not interchangeable, in this particular context. I'm a firm believer in the benefits of running my long days at an easy pace.



 

I'd gotten about a quarter-mile away before I tripped on a minuscule crack in the sidewalk.

 

My body went flying and skidding. As was the case with my last fall I simply didn't have any spare energy to try to stop the crash. I slid on my palms, scraped my arm, hip, knee and hand.

 

Two things registered, immediately.

1. OW!

2. There was a line of cars waiting to pull into the church entrance where I was hideously sprawled and a dozen or so congregation members, in the parking lot, staring at me in horror.

 

Fact Number 2 got me to my feet faster than I could've ever imagined. I surveyed the important damage (Garmin ok? Ipod still as intact as ever?) ,while I ran away from the humiliating scene. My body, while bruised and stinging, was still moving as it should be. That fact, along with the realization that my phone was in the handheld water bottle I'd sent with my husband, forced me to continue this run I so desperately wanted to abruptly end.

 

When I reached the 16th mile, and remembered that the next few stretches would be full of tall (Florida) hills, I finally paused my watch and fully stopped to survey the damage. I guess I was hoping that it was much less benign than I thought it was? I stopped the exploratory searches when I saw this:

spoiler: I survived and took pics after the run

 

While I now, rationally, realize it's simply a scraped knee, at that moment it was enough to drive me to actual tears. Frustration (why does this keep happening to me?!), Embarrassment (which isn't an emotion I generally succumb to), Exhaustion and Defeat overwhelmed me. Glancing up the steep hill, I saw people coming, so I slowly and sadly stumbled on. The thought crossed my mind to ask them if they had a phone so I could call my husband for a ride. By the time I reached them, though, my stupid crying fit was over and I'd decided to keep running. My pace was abysmal, my spirit was dead and my freaking bruised hands hurt like a b*#)%!

 

With everything now aching, inside and out, I shakily managed to switch my ipod back on to drown everything out with some music. When it started filling my ears, brain and heart, it was like a switch was flipped within me, as well.

 

I picked up my head, focused on the wisdom of Van Halen ("Right Now? It's Everything!") and my form, and destroyed the next hill.

 

Now, well into the seventeenth mile, I stopped looking at my watch but remembered my earlier goals for this training run. My legs started churning out beautiful-feeling movements but my breathing stayed soft and easy.

 

When Dave Grohl started singing about his "Hero", there wasn't a doubt in my mind he was referring to me.

 

Thinking back to my very first 20-miler, and the overwhelming sense of emotion and pride I felt when I knew I was going to finish it strongly, I started to get choked up, once again. That run had been prior to my injury, . While I'd managed to heal and get my fitness to a place where I could giddily complete my very first marathon, I'd very rarely felt "back", during my subsequent runs.

 

Here's the thing about running. It can, without warning or provocation, turn into an absolutely spiritual experience. It's not something you can plan or force. Some miles, some races, some impromptu jaunts with friends, just totally morph into something that cannot be explained without sounding like a complete dork. This, obviously, doesn't stop me from trying...

 



When I finished today's 20 miles, and realized they were, overall, even faster than my pre-injury ones(complete with fall and blubbering like a baby!), I couldn't decide whether I wanted to holler, cry (again) or just let my proud smile overtake my tired face.

 

So I did all three.

bruised & bloodied hip

 

curious about how I managed to scrape the palm AND back of the same hand

 

 

 

 

 



Happy Times for Day 22

Now that I've recapped That Thing Which Must Not Be Named (hereby shortened to "That Thing", or the like), and have gotten annoyed all over again, I'm moving on to happier posts. If for no other reason than, It's Christmas.

I do, Actually, LOVE this movie

Since, That Thing, I have had some of my happiest runs, ever. I carved out at least a week of recovery time, and figured I'd be flexible and add even more time, if necessary. However, due to the nature of the way I ran The Thing, and some very solid, wasted training, I ended up feeling 100% recovered just a couple days after TT.

This was good news for several reasons:

• I was anxious to get back to running...not training. It wasn't an obsessive desire out of habit. I just needed to make sure I still loved it.
• I wanted to do something to get my mind off That Thing. Walking gives you waaaayyy too much time to think, dwell and get angry.
• My oft-injured dad has been (knock on wood) feeling good enough to pick up his running, again.
• He, my sissy and I all had time in our schedule to be at the same group run. At the same time.

post-run. We're not generally that shiny

 

That was an awesome run, with even more awesome people. In completely unplanned (hooray for no more training runs!) fashion, I started out nice and conservatively and effortlessly negative splitted the heck out of the rest of the few miles.

 

It turns out I do, actually, still love running. I love, actually, my family even more and Christmas is pretty cool, as well. So, getcher waffles ready. The next few days are going to be dripping with sweet, syrup-y love-talk. I can't plan these things, but I can surely spread the good cheer when I'm enveloped in it.

Was that subliminal enough? Even if you've already watched "Love Actually", this year, go ahead and watch it again. You have my blessing.

Day 21, The Final Chapter

Only 3 more days of Adventrageous. My gift to all of you will be No More Daily Posting.
You're welcome.

Chapter Four: The Aftermath

 

I drank some cold water and got quick recaps on how the half and full had gone for my peeps who'd already finished.

 

If you're reading this and know the people who were there, you already know everyone's results. If you're a reader who doesn't know those people, you probably don't care. Thus, we'll move on with wrapping up my story.

 

I felt awful for finishing in such a crappy, lethargic mood. The Husband, my sister and her in-laws had all been waiting to cheer me on. I did my best to smile and not look like a total jerk. It's unlikely that I was successful with that, but I did make an effort.

my attempt at "chipper"

 

The Husband walked with me over to the medical tent to get some bandaids. They had me stand very still while they sprayed the biggest scrapes with some antiseptic junk. One medic asked if I wanted a banana and a few seconds later I had one, in hand. While they were trying to clean dirt and road bits out of me I was apologizing over and over for how disgusting I was and thanking them repeatedly.

 

Suddenly I couldn't figure out if my eyes were open or closed. As I was trying to decipher this new development, I managed to wheeze "dizzzzzy"...or something like that. I was plopped in a chair and ice bags were strategically placed. Turns out it's not healthy to run for hours then stand, completely still, in the sunshine.

 

So, that was pretty cool, too.

 

My sister wheeled her stroller, complete with my lovely niece, into the public restroom with me when I was all bandaged and could stand again. She was unlucky enough to get to hear me ramble on, completely without filter, about the race. Here's how the restroom scene broke down :

 

Good news: I'd packed an entire change of clothes and one of these magical delights! I can still vividly recall the relief I felt after peeling off my dirty stuff and replacing it all with clean, dry, non-matching items.

 

Bad news: I experienced another, new (to me) marathon treat! My foot cramped and deformed itself, so badly, that I almost screamed and couldn't figure out how to fix it. Holding onto bathroom stall walls, staring at your newly redesigned, throbbing, foot is every bit as fun as it sounds.

 

Good news: My sissy reached under the door to save the day. She massaged that dirty old thing 'til it looked human, again, and I could manage to get a sock on it. (thank you, again, sissy!)

 

We re-joined our group, in the middle of the field, to cheer on the other finishers. Everyone got to share their tales while we stretched and wished it wasn't getting so darned hot. Then, right after the 5-hour mark, the guy with the microphone announced that they'd run out of medals.

 

This racing company has a good and long-standing reputation, and I hope it stays that way. For real, though. How do you run out of medals? Their excuse was that they'd thought more people would drop out, due to the heat...

 

This meant the poor people who'd been running the longest AND in the most heat, were going to be sent home bling-less. Realizing we had three first-timers in our group, the decision was made to meet them at the finish line and give them our medals. Only after I'd happily passed mine on to my running friend, did I realize it was pretty blood-splattered. (sorry, Mike!)

 

When everyone was done, we went out to try to refuel, together. I had zero appetite, but enjoyed the company immensely.

beers and waters, all around

 

managed a few loaded fries

 

Went home.

Crashed.

Hobbled around the next day.

blah, blah, blah.

 

I'm still not in a real "zen" place regarding this race, so I'll keep my current thoughts to myself, for now.

 

Thank you, anyone who was there to support me, that day.

 

Thank you to anyone else who thought of me, that day, and/or read this whole saga. I am grateful for an outlet to recap all that mess and especially thankful that anyone took the time to re-live it, with me.

 



 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Day 20, Chapter 3

If you're not caught up on this saga, feel free to read chapter 1 and chapter 2.  Otherwise, lets all move on to :

Chapter Three: In Which I Bypass The Wall (and Hit the Sidewalk, Instead)

 

 

Cautiously optimistic about the reprieve I seem to be experiencing from my "internal issues", I took a peek at my Garmin after passing the 19th mile marker. I'd stopped checking, many miles ago, when the numbers were too disheartening and I was totally wrapped up in damage control.

 

What I saw gave me a glimmer of new hope.

 

While the 3:40 goal was a distant memory, I really could still pull out a PR. It took an inordinately long time to do the math, but I finally calculated that it would actually be possible to run only slightly faster than my current pace, for the remaining miles, and finish faster than I had in my first marathon. I was still pretty grumpy about the whole experience, but decided to pull it together, turn that (literal and mental) corner and finish this thing strong(ish).

 

Only there was a moving SUV in my way. (ha! You totally thought this was the sidewalk part, didn't you?!) 



I'm still not sure if the driver had accidentally gotten into the runners' lane and couldn't get out, if they thought they were pacing us or if he/she was simply a moron. (I guess that option would cover all the others, too) Regardless, it was ridiculous. The vehicle kept changing speeds and was taking up the entire lane. The only way around it would've been to run into oncoming traffic and I simply wasn't that smart desperate, yet.

At one point, after almost running into the bumper when the car came to a sudden stop, I sidestepped and received a disgusted yell and nasty face from another runner.

Really, lady? You thought, out of courtesy, I ought to throw myself into a Sports Utility Vehicle so as not to break your spectacular stride?

Wow. I thought I'd be over that little moment, by now. Apparently not.

Eventually the Surprise Car Obstacle was gone but my already sad pace had suffered, further. The heat was rising, the humidity was at about 100% (for real) and I was finding myself unable to take a deep breath.

Good times.

When I saw the 20th mile marker, I almost cried.

Here's the part I could never understand, until I'd been through a rough marathon. You will, potentially, lose control of your body and brain. I'd read other recaps and heard other stories about "I couldn't imagine how I was going to run that last 5k", etc., but never understood how someone could get to that point.

When I saw that I had a mere 10k left, of this Race O' Death, I nearly had a breakdown. The distance that would, sometimes, be a warmup for me, seemed utterly daunting.

How. the &*$^@ was I ever going to run for nearly an hour more?

Prior to this marathon, that thought just seems silly.
After the marathon, that thought just seems silly.
During the marathon...that thought made perfect, bone-chilling, mind-numbing sense.

It was then that I took my first walk break. Yes, you're reading that right. Other than the bathroom stops, I hadn't yet stopped running. At all. The smart person outside of my body was freaking screaming at me to keep running and squeeze out a PR. The mushy brain inside my skull, though, would just not allow it.

I couldn't remember a single mantra...couldn't really even remember why I was putting myself through this mess and had exactly zero happy thoughts, at that time.

even the thought of this little celebratory treat failed to improve my mood



Just after the 21st mile, or so, I saw a friend from the running group. He was walking. He and I had similar goals and training so the sight of him was simultaneously sobering and encouraging. I was extremely sad that he was in the same boat, but felt a bit better knowing I wasn't alone in my misery.

We talked a little. He asked if I had anything to eat. When I offered him the gel I had left he looked like he was going to barf. I quickly shoved it back in the pouch and tried to get him to run with me.

That lasted for about ten seconds. Somehow his deathmarch gave me strength, though, so I picked up the pace when he dropped back to continue his walk.

A PR was still within reach and I had my 14th wind! We turned off a side street and onto a pretty busy road. A duo in front of me came to a complete stop, so I hopped onto the sidewalk to go around.

When I fell, I didn't even really feel myself tripping or going down. I simply noticed I was suddenly skidding on the sidewalk, hitting both hands and both knees. I remember actually making an "OOF" sound as the little breath I had left was forcibly slammed out of me.

Without bothering to survey the damage, I shakily stood up and started running again. Just about the time I looked down and saw blood dripping down my legs, fingers and arms, I realized I still hadn't really caught my breath. That's when I learned Hard Fall + Extreme Fatigue = Projectile Vomit.

Blessedly, as I didn't have much left in my digestive system, it was very brief.

Show of hands : Who, at this point of the story, is dying to run a marathon with me ? For any of you with hands raised, let me give you the full picture all the horrified spectators got to see for the rest of the race :

I took one blood-soaked hand, smeared it across my sweat, snot and vomit-splattered face to "clean up". That attractive look, paired with the blood and dirt-caked knees, and clothes decorated with every other bodily fluid known to man brought on some pretty comical reactions. The cheery smiles and pumping fists slowly gave way to frozen hands and horrified gasps.

"GO...ohhhh.!" "Oh my. "
"You can DO...oooh. maybe not..."
"Only two more miles to....holy *%$#!"

My weirdly-wired RunnerBrain didn't know any better than to just keep shuffling towards that finish line. The knees that had taken the brunt of my klutziness, though, had other ideas. I almost fell, again, when they locked up, completely. I was unable to even walk. Scooting over to the side, I stopped to massage them until I could move, again. That happened about five times.

I finally just laughed. I'm sure that was the icing on the CrazyCake the onlookers were witnessing, but it felt good to just stop caring. After that, I really don't remember feeling anything else. Physically and mentally I was completely numb.

When I crossed the finish line, four hours and five minutes after I'd started running, I felt no emotion. I wasn't happy to be done.
I wasn't sad about my finishing time.
I wasn't even registering the exhaustion.

I half-heartedly grabbed my medal and hobbled over to meet my ever-patient husband, and spectating sister.

You didn't really think there wasn't more drama to come, did you?

Adventrageous 19, Chapter Two

When we left off the drawn-out Jacksonville Bank Marathon story, we were cruising past the halfway point of the race...

Chapter Two: My Guts Revolt

This portion of the race, for me, is pretty much an ugly blur. Unfortunately, for you, that's about the way you'll feel about his Chapter, as well.

I'll keep it brief and painless, though, which is the exact opposite of the description of miles 13-21 of that marathon.

Not seeing the people I was expecting to see, at mile 13 (14, 15, 16 or 17) was more of a letdown than I thought it would be. I hadn't realized how dependent I'd become on having someone else to run with, until it became clear that wasn't going to happen. I had my music to keep my spirits up and plenty of GUs and fluids to keep me fueled. While maintaining my goal pace was becoming more and more of a challenge, there wasn't anything physically holding me back, I realized.

Right around the time that I was mentally rallying myself back into a decent mood, my body decided to attack me.

I live with four males. While totally loveable, they are pretty darned gross, most of the time, and I've had to learn to just roll with it. That having been said, I still do my best to maintain my "ladylike" status. This means you'll have to let your imagination take over, in lieu of me actually describing what happened to me during those miles. Hint : Whatever you're thinking...bump it up a couple notches on the  "Oh. my. gosh." scale.

There was seemingly nothing I could do to remedy what was happening. It was so hideous, so miserable and there seemed to be no end in sight. Naturally, my pace suffered. The real nails in the BQ coffin, though, were the two, looonnng, port-a-potty stops. I have never needed to stop for a bathroom break, in any race. I'm sure there's a skill to it that I simply don't posess. Even opening and closing the door, sweaty and shaking, took forever!

For days leading up to the race, one of my goals had been to not let the 3:45 pace group pass me, at any point. My strategy, then, turned into : Hope the bathroom stop is timed right so that they pass while I'm in there and I don't have to witness it.

Instead, they jauntily flew by me right after I hobbled back out onto the course. I said an extremely inappropriate word (s?) and knew I had zero chance of catching, much less passing, those perky jerks.

When I finally saw The Husband, at mile 18, I couldn't even manage a wave or smile. I was so glad to see him, but didn't know how else to convey how very wrong everything had gone since the last time he'd seen me.

I had many, vivid fantasies of dropping out of that stupid race, during those horrific miles. I felt utterly alone, embarassed, defeated, disgusting and overwhelmingly exhausted. I couldn't even manage to keep more than a sip of water in me, at a time. The worst part, though, was that the rest of my body, felt fine. My legs were still strong. My feet still longed to race.

these poor shoes did their best to carry me

 

Upon reflection, I'm still not really sure why I didn't just DNF. I had already mentally sworn off  running in Florida, marathons and/or racing any distances over one mile, by that point.

Maybe I was subconsciously waiting for the excitement still yet to come...

Day 18, Chapter One

Yes, it's okay to mix Adventrageous with Marathon Recaps. Also, in an effort to make this story more reader-friendly, it'll need to be broken down into a couple of parts. Short parts! Don't worry!

Chapter One : Fog, Smiles and Happy Feet

 

not from Marathon Morning, but you get the gist

 

A group of running friends, with The Husband as our fearless driver, met at our house at 4:00 am. We loaded up a 15-passenger van and drove to Jacksonville for the race. It was fun to have lots of other running stories and nervous goals to focus on, other than my own.

 

The time passed quickly. I ate the breakfast I'd brought, two hours prior to the start time, drank my water and coffee and enjoyed everyone's company. We made one group-necessary pitstop and parked with only some minor issues.

 

From there, it got a little hectic. I make it a habit to have everything done and be lined up nice and early on race days. I love and need to have those moments to calm down, reflect and ease into the day. Instead, I ended up jogging to the start right as they shot the cannon. There was an enormous cluster of people where I needed to be and I barely squeezed in to get over the starting mat. Yuck, but I shook it off.

 

At this point, I have to get some the Runner Geek talk out of my system. Feel free to skim if this doesn't interest you.

I was pacing myself for a 3:36 marathon. This gave me a nice, big cushion to get in under my actual goal of 3:40. When you look at my other marathon result, that goal just seems silly. However, based on my more recent half marathon time, every pace calculator assures me I can run a 3:30 marathon. While the 3:40 goal is ambitious, it's within my capabilities.

(I still believe that!)

I gave myself a conservative start, building slowly to some faster, early miles and then allowed some wiggle-room for the inevitable (for me) positive splits in the second half of the race. With this plan in mind, the first twelve miles went by like magical clockwork.

It was foggy and about 60 degrees at the start. I was nervous about the later heat being a factor, but the morning weather was pretty nice. The humidity was above 80%, the entire time, but I live in Florida. I can deal.

My entire body felt insanely perfect. No aches, no nagging injuries, no nerves. There was nothing but happy feet and smiles surrounding me. I was hitting every mile at exactly the pace I wanted. It wasn't difficult to maintain, nor did I even really have to think about it.

Everything was simply falling into place exactly as I had trained for.

I waved at the festive spectators. I saw The Husband and gave him a big smile so he knew I was right on target. I chatted with a lady with a similar pace goal and we took turns pacing each other. I faithfully sipped my GU Brew-filled, water. I completely deviated from my original fueling plan starting at mile 3...(oops. foreshadowing)

Between miles 12 and 13, my pace started to slip a teeny bit. My new pacing friend's did not, so I just kept her in sight and turned my ipod on. I wasn't too worried, though. I knew I'd see some running friends at the halfway point. One guy was even going to try to jump in and run with his girlfriend (and me, if I could time it right).  If I could just hang on a bit longer, things would continue to fall into place. The miles would undoubtedly be tough, but I was still feeling great.

Anything below a 1:50:00 half was necessary for a 3:40 finish. My 13.1 (halfway point) split was 1:48:55.

Absolutely no reason to panic.

Adventrageously Aching

Just a brief note, for Day 17.

The first half of my second marathon, yesterday, was perfectly and constistently paced.

The second half involved every. single. race nightmare you can imagine. (minus actual death, of course)

Right now, if you're thinking "but, surely that didn't happen, right?"

It did.

"but, wait...what about that? Did that happen, too?!"

It did.

Thank you for all of your cheering  and support, cyber or otherwise. Marathon Days are amazing, regardless of the outcome. I'm glad I have such a cool community to share these experiences with.

I'll leave you with a couple photos (don't look if you're bothered by blood). I'd love to leave you with a photo of my medal (Spoiler :  I did finish that thing!) but I don't have one. That story will be in the recap, too.

kinda fuzzy. My hand's covered in blood and cuts.

and my knees...

 

Day Sixteen, Marathon Two

Those numbers and events are unrelated. When I type them together, though, it looks totally legit, doesn't it?

I was already several paragraphs into a reflective, touchy-feely post about the Second Marathon I'm about to run.

 

In lieu of all that chatter, I'll simply say this :

 

 I'm going to run 26.2 miles in 3 hours and 40 minutes or less.

 

Today.

 

There are people, in my life, who doubt the likelihood of this. Sadly, on some days, I'm one of them.

 

Today's not that day.

 

What sort of epic (for you) things do you have planned for your Sunday?

 

 

Adventrageously Fourteen

Late Edit : I posted today's entry before the news of the Connecticut tragedy broke. I'm not a shallow, heartless blogger. However, I can't say or think about it, too much, just yet, though. It just takes me some time to try to process something that absolutely senseless.

Now that we've coined "Adventrageous" as an actual word, we can start using it in its various forms.

Today's Topic: Really boring occurrences which I have captured, in photos, to make them seem more exciting.

Now you may be thinking : "Wait a minute, there, lady!" "Isn't that what all your posts are about?"

No, my friends. The difference is, this post is only about that. Others actually offer of a pretense of containing interesting content, with some boring photos on the side.

See?

really bad picture. really good cookies.

 

Thanks to this sweet blogger, I figured out what cookies I wanted to make for our Book Club's Christmas Extravaganza. When you visit her site, take note of how much better her photos are, too.

 

I've already eaten two, today. Why? They're delicious and they contain carbs.

 

Also, this happened:

I was trying to think of something lucky about all those sixes. No luck.

 

Please note this Odometer Excitment occurred in a different vehicle than the one from this post. No, you're not losing your mind. I really did share two different photos of two different odometers on the same blog.

 

Did you ever imagine you'd be fortunate enough to stumble upon reading material this compelling?

 

Today's Share: Haha! I snuck in a twoferone! The topic actually contains the blogshare. Go forth and visit Jade. Be entertained by her funny and bubbly stories. Make those cookies. Encourage her as she gets back into running after being out of comission.

 

Have you considered running a marathon after fueling solely on cookies? Me neither. (lie)

 

 



 

 



Lucky 13

Is it a little weird/sad that when I typed "13", above, it didn't feel right. I had to fight the urge to add a ".1" after it. What's happened to my brain?

Today's Topic : A peek inside my world . My tiny, corner, desk/workstation, as it looked today :

Organization? I lack.



Some highlights :

• The blue foam roller peeking out, on the right. I am proud to say that I remember to use it 5-7 days/per week. It took me a while to remember to do it, regularly.
• The coffee warmer, on the left. That poor thing has been dropped and spilled on numerous times and keeps on warmin'.
• The library book, with the cover strategically hidden under my grocery list. Last month's Book Club host's selection...not mine.
• A 2013 calender that I've had out for over a month, to remind me to start filling in important dates. In all likelihood, that task will actually take place in early March of 2013. Until then, I'll keep pulling out the 2012 one, currently stuffed in the basket on the lower left, and getting frustrated that it still doesn't show the right date.
• My fancy, black Organizer I bought to keep track of Running-related stuff : upcoming race promotions, contacts, Running Club activities, etc. I dutifully filled in pertinent information for about four days. After that, I started stuffing receipts, scraps of paper, and lists in and out of every couple (sadly) blank pages. I still carry it around and will continue to use it. I feel it makes me look immensely cool and important.
• A plastic nose

Pretty sure it's part of these glasses. If not, someone has some 'splaining to do

 

• A teeny, tiny cow with a teeny tiny suction cup. I'm not sure how it ended up there, but I like it.
• 1,415 other random items

You can't see the monitors but I can guarantee one of them would show the predicted weather for Sunday, December 16th, in Jacksonville Florida. must.stop.obsessing.


Other than random body parts or farm animals, what do you have on your desk?



Heavenly Eleven(ly)

I'm feeling a bit "off", during this taper week. Trying not to use it as an excuse, but my posts may be a bit "off", as well. I think it's a combo of limited running and trying to not be nervous about the upcoming marathon.

Today's Topic : Healthy Food Doesn't Have to be Disgusting : I like to promote a feeling of positivity on this blog. However, I also feel it's my duty to prevent the trauma that inflicted The Husband and I, on this past Sunday.

I bought a new kind of healthy snack/protein bar for my hungry man to try. The local Health Foods store had them on sale, so I grabbed a flavor I thought he'd like. He took a long, miserable bite...and then another. When he reported how god-awful it was, I thought he was just being overly picky.

Then I tasted it.

If you're wanting to know what it tastes like to have someone or something die and rot in your mouth, please try these treats!

Someone from their promotions department should be contacting me any minute, now!

just enough to wash the taste away

 

Including bars, there are a plethora of healthy food options for runners and non-runners, alike. Please don't ever sacrifice good taste when trying to make good food choices. If you're ever in doubt, send me an email and I can suggest a healthy option for whatever you're craving, at that time. I just won't be able to actually provide the product.

 

We imaginary internet friends do have limits.

 

Today's Share: Lisa is another blogger I felt instantly connected to. While I generally end up reading only the most recent posts of the blogs I follow, I actually went back and read quite a few of her archived entries. I liked her humor, stories and way with words that much. Someday, the stars will align and we'll pace each other in a race. (she just doesn't know it, yet)

 

not quite Elf Material, yet. Better luck next year, guys...

 

 

Have you recently tried anything that surprised you with its taste?

 

Do your loved ones do their best to look as ridiculous as possible when you try to photograph them?



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the Eighth Day of Adventrageous

Man! That has such a catchy ring to it, eh?
 

what? You think I used this pic of our advent calendar door because I ran out of cool shots?

The nerve!

 

 

Not only is this Day Eight of our Adventrageous Adventure, it is also Eight Days until my second marathon! In honor of that very special coincidence, I present you with the following:

 

Today's Topic: Eight Happy Things About My Upcoming Marathon!!

 

1. I love the course. I ran the half-marathon, there, last year and vowed to return. From their site :

The Jacksonville Marthon course is a USA Track and Field certified flat, fast and very scenic with 85% shade. There are no hills, bridges or overpasses.

 

There isn't a ton of crowd support, as it winds through a lot of quiet neighborhoods. The areas where spectators can get to, though, are fun and festive. It also finishes on a track, at a school. I love races that end that way!

 

2. I love the location. It's far enough away from home (about 1.5 hours) that it seems like a Destination Race, but close enough that we can drive up and back the same day. The drive up will be decidedly less painful than the drive back, I'm guessing. The Husband I and will be riding, in a van, with a  bunch of people from WVR . I'm so excited about the nervous, happy energy on the way there!! (The Husband's decidedly less excited about the moaning and whining he'll likely hear on the drive back)

 

3. The boys will be far away and well-cared for. While I love the races the whole family's able to attend, this one's just not the best for that sort of thing. It's such a relief to not have to worry about them for that day!

Thanks, Kim, for taking on all that action!

 

4. (knock on wood) I won't have a big, black eye for the Race Photos, this year! Long story...

 

5. In addition to the transportation situation (that's a cool phrase, huh?!) I'll get to run with people I know. My first marathon was, by choice, solo in a city far, far away. I'm SO happy about the prospect of lining up with running buddies and a couple cool people I've "met" through DailyMile. Now to just try to keep up with them...

 

6. The weather is shaping up to be perfect. Last year, it was high 30s-low 40s at the start. This year it's forecast to be low-mid 40s when we start. 71% humidity (for those in more dry climates, this is a good number for us!!) and the high is only supposed to be low 60s. Great conditions!

 

7. The post-race meal. I rarely have an appetite after any race. My digestive system wasn't feeling normal for about two days, after my last marathon. However, I'm good at forcing myself to eat. I'm looking forward to sitting down, with friends and family, and eating whatever the heck I want.

 

8. I'm going to go ahead and get a PR. I should also add that it'll be a big one...

 

Today's share: I was lucky enough to stumble upon Sheila's blog and bookmarked it, immediately. That's pretty rare, for me. She has a passion and talent for running, three boys and an awesome sense of humor. Still not quite sure how she manages to fit everything into her busy schedule AND blog about it, but I love reading her anecdotes and wisdom.

 

How's your Saturday?