It's hard to believe that one year ago this coming weekend, the 3 of us crossed the finish line of our very first half marathon. Since then, we've logged on many more miles and captured some of our very best PRs. As I went for my 5-miler earlier this week, I kept thinking about the past couple of years. We all took an idea and literally ran with it. No huge goals were set, just the simple one of 'don't die'. We celebrated any and all accomplishments along the way. And what has surprised me most of all, is that I am still running (and that if you run enough you will inevitably start to eat bananas coming from the person who really didn't like to eat them).
I've always known that running has made me feel better but little did I know how it would really change me. I went from really dreading any sort of workout to desperately trying to find some time to put in a mile or two. It clears my head like no other workout can. I'm able to put aside some everyday stresses and worries just so I have that coveted me time. I can't take long breaks from running. It drives me crazy. I start craving that hard workout. There are times when there is nothing more satisfying than just going out and coming back completely covered in sweat but wearing it all with a HUGE grin on my face. I'll even start dreaming about running if go too long without them. No matter how hard I try to push it to the back burner, it all comes back with a big, 'I told you so'.
My expectations for Sunday's race aren't big. Just the usual, don't get hurt and run to have fun. To be honest I am more looking forward to some bigger races with the girls in the coming year. As grueling as the training can be, it's the end result that I love. That feeling that, yes, I can do anything. And yes, I can do the one thing that I think I cannot do. I've said it once and I'll say it again, I wouldn't be where I am today as a runner, if it weren't for April & Rachel.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
San Jose Rock and Roll, part 2
This race was different for me too.
Since our last half in June, April and I had talked about a goal of finishing under 2 hours. 1:59:59 would be ok with us! I was totally on board for this and was amped up for the training it would take. Then life happened...
Work got very busy, the kids kept me very busy, home life kept me very busy, we traveled A LOT this summer, I was finding it very hard to find time to run. I could usually squeeze in one or two runs during the week and one longer run on the weekend.
And my runs were not good. Craptastic actually. I was getting very discouraged. And, somewhere during one of my horrible runs, I realized I wasn't going to finish in under two hours. And I got a little depressed.
A few weeks before the race, April and I ran a 9 miler. We talked. I told her my frustration and she convinced me to take the pressure off of myself and just go out and run the race, at my pace and, if nothing else, have fun.
And that is just what I did.
I lost April pretty much right after we crossed the start line. Lost Becky right around mile 3. But I was ok with running this race by myself. The course was great, it wound through areas of San Jose I have never been too, and through areas that brought back so many memories (my old Junior High!).
I finished the race in 2 hours, 13 minutes and 23 seconds. Not under 2 hours, but I don't think the smile left my face until I went to bed that night. I had so much fun, was so proud of myself for finished my 3rd half marathon in less than a year and crossed that finish line feeling no pressure and looking forward to my next race.
Since our last half in June, April and I had talked about a goal of finishing under 2 hours. 1:59:59 would be ok with us! I was totally on board for this and was amped up for the training it would take. Then life happened...
Work got very busy, the kids kept me very busy, home life kept me very busy, we traveled A LOT this summer, I was finding it very hard to find time to run. I could usually squeeze in one or two runs during the week and one longer run on the weekend.
And my runs were not good. Craptastic actually. I was getting very discouraged. And, somewhere during one of my horrible runs, I realized I wasn't going to finish in under two hours. And I got a little depressed.
A few weeks before the race, April and I ran a 9 miler. We talked. I told her my frustration and she convinced me to take the pressure off of myself and just go out and run the race, at my pace and, if nothing else, have fun.
And that is just what I did.
I lost April pretty much right after we crossed the start line. Lost Becky right around mile 3. But I was ok with running this race by myself. The course was great, it wound through areas of San Jose I have never been too, and through areas that brought back so many memories (my old Junior High!).
I finished the race in 2 hours, 13 minutes and 23 seconds. Not under 2 hours, but I don't think the smile left my face until I went to bed that night. I had so much fun, was so proud of myself for finished my 3rd half marathon in less than a year and crossed that finish line feeling no pressure and looking forward to my next race.
Monday, October 4, 2010
San Jose Rock and Roll Half Marathon
This race was different for me. I wasn't nervous the weeks approaching the race. I wasn't nervous the night before the race. Or excited. I couldn't figure it out. I got butterflies as Rachel parked the car in the race lot. The only time I had real nerves was as we were trying to find our fourth running Mama before the race. Five minutes to go, no sign of her. One minute to go, no sign of her. Start whistle blows, NO SIGN of her.
It wasn't until I crossed the start mat that the emotions caught up with me. I had tears in my eyes. The MONTHS of hard work: waking up at 5 am, running with the jogging stroller, running the long runs NO MATTER WHAT, running in the heat, running in the rain, sacrifice: skipping dates with mommy friends to make sure I could wake up and run on the weekends, skipping coffee dates, lunch dates, FUN stuff to run had got me here: the START. Unlike my first half, I knew what it really meant to train for and RUN a half marathon. The time commitment. The physical commitment. The emotional commitment. The family commitment. At that moment, I had already won. I knew that I would finish. I may not like my time, but I would limp, crawl, roll my way across the finish if I had to. Despite the many challenges and obstacles, I never gave up. I didn't quit. I had set a goal and done it. And was surrounded by 13,000+ other people who had in some way or another done the same and I was overcome with emotion.
The emotions, adrenaline, and excitement got me through the first few miles. Music playing in the background. New sights. The HOPE that our fourth running Mama would come running up beside me. It took me a couple miles to get over the disappointment of not having found her. I lost Rachel super early on, before the quarter mile mark. I suddenly had to change gears and realize that I was going to have to run this as a onesome. I was not prepared for that. I focused on finding a person to pace with. Granted, I ALWAYS pick the wrong ones. The undercover super runners dressed in unassuming, older looking person clothing. I fell into a comfortable pace. Miles one through six breezed by:
Mile 1 8:43
Mile 2 8:42
Mile 3 8:45
Mile 4 8:53
Mile 5 8:51
Mile 6 8:57
By mile 7, I was hot. I could feel the blisters forming on my feet. I don't have the take-Gu-out-of-pocket-open-eat-and-drink-water thing down. I have to walk through aid stations or else risk losing all contents of my pocket, drenching myself with water, and possibly choking on my Gu chomp. I had just watched the Men's winner haul past me. FYI: he won the race in ONE HOUR. Ass. And I was realizing that there was no way I was going to find my friends.
Mile 7 9:26
I had a brief burst of energy for mile 8.
Mile 8 8:51
And then hit a wall. I knew there was an aid station around mile 8 somewhere. Turned out to be closer to 8.5. I told myself I would slow down and walk through the water station. And did. And debated why I should run again. Walking was nice. Walking was comfortable. The music was good. And then I watched the most inspiring young man run past me in an Army shirt. And prosthetic leg. If HE COULD DO IT, certainly I could. I threw down my water cup and ran right behind him. Tears welled up in my eyes. I followed him for the next few miles.
Mile 9 9:33
Mile 10 9:12
Mile 11 9:16
At the completion of mile 11 I felt like I had NOTHING more to give but knew I was SO SO close. I also knew I had two miles left and has just crossed mile 11 at about 1:40. In my mind, I knew I could somehow pull off two miles at a 10 min./mile pace. I saw my sub-2 goal slipping right before my eyes. THIS is where I wish I had one of my running girls. THIS is where you could use someone by your side to push you. Encourage you. REMIND you not to give up. REMIND you that you are completely capable of this.
Mile 12 9:21
As we near mile 13 you can hear the music and crowds cheering on the finishers. I was finally welcomed by familiar sights I had seen while waiting for the race to start. I told myself to PUT IT ALL OUT THERE. THIS is what I had trained for. If I didn't leave it all out on the race course it would have all been a complete waste of time. Blisters burning my feet. Hamstrings tightening up. Left knee screaming. I put my big girl panties on and RAN. As fast as I could.
Mile 13 8:43
Mile .24 8:14
GARMIN totals: 13.24 miles, 9:00 min/mile average, 1:59:11.
Chip time: 1:59:03
I had done it. Sub-2 hour half: DONE.
As I gimped my way from the Finish, I watched others cross the mats. Two women hand in hand, one wearing an "I survived cancer" shirt, tears streaming down their faces. A young boy, likely around 10-ish running with his parents. The young soldier with the prosthetic leg. If I ever wondered, I no longer needed to. Runners come in all shapes and sizes. All different skill levels. The lucky ones, the really lucky ones, learn that running is so much more than putting one foot in front of the other. It's about being part of a community. Experiencing success. Learning about challenges while ignoring failure. It's about mental toughness, determination, and perseverance. Never giving in to excuses, self doubt, or life obstacles. It's having an I CAN and WILL attitude instead of an I could, would, or should attitude. It's about doing whatever it takes to get you to that start line. And across the finish.
It wasn't until I crossed the start mat that the emotions caught up with me. I had tears in my eyes. The MONTHS of hard work: waking up at 5 am, running with the jogging stroller, running the long runs NO MATTER WHAT, running in the heat, running in the rain, sacrifice: skipping dates with mommy friends to make sure I could wake up and run on the weekends, skipping coffee dates, lunch dates, FUN stuff to run had got me here: the START. Unlike my first half, I knew what it really meant to train for and RUN a half marathon. The time commitment. The physical commitment. The emotional commitment. The family commitment. At that moment, I had already won. I knew that I would finish. I may not like my time, but I would limp, crawl, roll my way across the finish if I had to. Despite the many challenges and obstacles, I never gave up. I didn't quit. I had set a goal and done it. And was surrounded by 13,000+ other people who had in some way or another done the same and I was overcome with emotion.
The emotions, adrenaline, and excitement got me through the first few miles. Music playing in the background. New sights. The HOPE that our fourth running Mama would come running up beside me. It took me a couple miles to get over the disappointment of not having found her. I lost Rachel super early on, before the quarter mile mark. I suddenly had to change gears and realize that I was going to have to run this as a onesome. I was not prepared for that. I focused on finding a person to pace with. Granted, I ALWAYS pick the wrong ones. The undercover super runners dressed in unassuming, older looking person clothing. I fell into a comfortable pace. Miles one through six breezed by:
Mile 1 8:43
Mile 2 8:42
Mile 3 8:45
Mile 4 8:53
Mile 5 8:51
Mile 6 8:57
By mile 7, I was hot. I could feel the blisters forming on my feet. I don't have the take-Gu-out-of-pocket-open-eat-and-drink-water thing down. I have to walk through aid stations or else risk losing all contents of my pocket, drenching myself with water, and possibly choking on my Gu chomp. I had just watched the Men's winner haul past me. FYI: he won the race in ONE HOUR. Ass. And I was realizing that there was no way I was going to find my friends.
Mile 7 9:26
I had a brief burst of energy for mile 8.
Mile 8 8:51
And then hit a wall. I knew there was an aid station around mile 8 somewhere. Turned out to be closer to 8.5. I told myself I would slow down and walk through the water station. And did. And debated why I should run again. Walking was nice. Walking was comfortable. The music was good. And then I watched the most inspiring young man run past me in an Army shirt. And prosthetic leg. If HE COULD DO IT, certainly I could. I threw down my water cup and ran right behind him. Tears welled up in my eyes. I followed him for the next few miles.
Mile 9 9:33
Mile 10 9:12
Mile 11 9:16
At the completion of mile 11 I felt like I had NOTHING more to give but knew I was SO SO close. I also knew I had two miles left and has just crossed mile 11 at about 1:40. In my mind, I knew I could somehow pull off two miles at a 10 min./mile pace. I saw my sub-2 goal slipping right before my eyes. THIS is where I wish I had one of my running girls. THIS is where you could use someone by your side to push you. Encourage you. REMIND you not to give up. REMIND you that you are completely capable of this.
Mile 12 9:21
As we near mile 13 you can hear the music and crowds cheering on the finishers. I was finally welcomed by familiar sights I had seen while waiting for the race to start. I told myself to PUT IT ALL OUT THERE. THIS is what I had trained for. If I didn't leave it all out on the race course it would have all been a complete waste of time. Blisters burning my feet. Hamstrings tightening up. Left knee screaming. I put my big girl panties on and RAN. As fast as I could.
Mile 13 8:43
Mile .24 8:14
GARMIN totals: 13.24 miles, 9:00 min/mile average, 1:59:11.
Chip time: 1:59:03
I had done it. Sub-2 hour half: DONE.
As I gimped my way from the Finish, I watched others cross the mats. Two women hand in hand, one wearing an "I survived cancer" shirt, tears streaming down their faces. A young boy, likely around 10-ish running with his parents. The young soldier with the prosthetic leg. If I ever wondered, I no longer needed to. Runners come in all shapes and sizes. All different skill levels. The lucky ones, the really lucky ones, learn that running is so much more than putting one foot in front of the other. It's about being part of a community. Experiencing success. Learning about challenges while ignoring failure. It's about mental toughness, determination, and perseverance. Never giving in to excuses, self doubt, or life obstacles. It's having an I CAN and WILL attitude instead of an I could, would, or should attitude. It's about doing whatever it takes to get you to that start line. And across the finish.
Monday, September 27, 2010
If you can't run...just DANCE!
I (once again) made the mistake of sleeping through an alarm to run this morning before it got hot out. I knew getting out on a Monday after a pretty productive weekend was a crapshoot but I was optimistic anyway. As I was driving kiddo numero dos to school, I had my XM radio tuned to my favorite station, channel 8 (the 80s station). Yes, I am a child of the 80s. Love 80s music. Grew up on all those fabulous 80s sitcoms and can still remember what my favorite commercials and jingles are. I know some people can only take so much of hearing Toni Basil's "Mickey" or Rick Springfield's "Jessie's Girl" but not me. Those are the songs that get me moving. I had the sheer delight of hearing one that transported me back to 1987 today. The song was "Wipeout" by The Beach Boys & The Fat Boys. We had moved to NorCal from SoCal. It was a hard move on us kids. I could see me & my siblings in some amazing hypercolor t-shirts (remember those?) with some equally amazing acid wash jean shorts. We missed being close to the beach (although for years I thought the beach was hours away since that's what my parents told me--a story for another day), spending days at Disneyland or Universal Studios or hanging out at South Coast Plaza. I turned up the radio loud...but not too loud that I wouldn't get to enjoy it over the protests coming from the back seat. I started bouncing around in my seat---even got the kiddo to wave his hands in the air and bob his head back and forth. The fun didn't stop there...Madonna's "Like a Virgin" was next...I moved to my other favorite station the 90s after that to change it up and got transported to my high school days with some Green Day. I could get used to this...and then I realized, well duh, no run might mean it's a dance party kind of day!
So here I am at home writing this little bit on the computer with my Sirius on in the background. With every song that comes on, I am immediately transported back to some fun times and I'm moving like none other! But with all of this comes some warning, I really can't dance if I tried. Sure I can mimic the moves of Milli Vanilli and the good ol' Running Man, but that's about it. Most times my moves look like something out of Night at the Roxy or SNL's Spartan cheerleaders. If you are a friend and usually go by my usual stomping grounds, don't give me the side eye or laugh when you see me stopping in tracks and busting out some crazy and so not worthy of So You Think You Can Dance moves on the trail or sidewalk. Instead why don't you join me because it's not a dance party if I am the only one having fun!!
Gotta run Vogue, will you join me?!
Feeling left out (and kinda emotional)
I had a bit of a pity party going on with myself over the weekend. A few FB friends mentioned upcoming races and a twinge (ok not a twinge) of sadness came over me. I had decided to not enter into a fall half marathon race partly because I knew the summer would yield not very good training runs with the plans I had and that (sadly), money was an issue. But no matter what, I would continue to cheer on my best running buddies and whenever they wanted an easy (and I emphasize the word easy as my runs are basically walks to them now) and some time to chat, I would be there to pound the pavement with them. While I am entered in a race at the end of October, a sort of anniversary marker of our 1st half together coupled with celebrating someone's birthday on race day, I still feel left out. I have missed the camaraderie of our long runs, laughing or venting about the week's events and the beloved and well-deserved coffee pit stop at the end. I miss throwing out my own pats on the back for accomplishing a long run after an awful week with my best buds. And even though I could sit here and stew about it all, I remind myself of how far I have come with (or without) them. What's been amazing about my running buddies is that no matter where I am in training or not training, they'll join me and check up on me. They will continue to lift me up and encourage me to do anything or nothing. It looks like I have just talked myself out of my funk and into some warm & fuzzy good feelings at all the fun we have had along the way. :)
Guess I just needed to get this out there and again tell you two (and anyone else that's reading) how much I admire and am inspired by you both. Your half is coming up this weekend and I know that some incredible PRs will be made. :)
Guess I just needed to get this out there and again tell you two (and anyone else that's reading) how much I admire and am inspired by you both. Your half is coming up this weekend and I know that some incredible PRs will be made. :)
Monday, September 20, 2010
Race Report: DSE Half Marathon
In my head, this was a practice run. The days leading up to it, I saw it as a long run. Aiming for 12. Would be happy with 10. PRACTICE run. I pull into the parking lot and there is no one there except for a few of the organizers. Okay. Exactly what I expected for my fake, non-real, non-race Half.
And then more people showed up. Tents went up. More tables were set up. BIBS were handed out. Timers went up. Ummmm...FAKE Half, not so much. I still wasn't nervous. I intended to run the entire thing slow, or at least I would try. My main goal is to rock the Rock-n-roll Half in two weeks. I didn't want to hurt myself. Or overdo it.
I had the honor of running with someone who I see as a total Mommy Athlete Stud, Melissa. Her intentions were similar to mine. Rest legs. PRACTICE run. And then we set out...first mile: under 9 min/mile. Second mile: even faster. Third mile: even faster. Apparently, we are both a little more competitive than we thought.
All was rockin until the first aid station. It was muggy. I was thirsty. I reached out for the Cytomax. Stopped to walk and drink. I have NOT mastered the run and drink thing. At least not the run and drink AND get said liquid in my mouth thing. I Gu. I take off. About a half mile later, around 5 miles in, it hits. THE WORST SIDE STITCH I have ever had. Ever. I couldn't get a full deep breath. I tried to walk it out. Breath it out. It never really went away. I was pissed. And hurting. NO CYTOMAX for this girl, apparently. I ran, walked, jogged the remaining mileage. Feeling good for a stretch and then side lined by the side stitch. More than anything, this makes me completely scared and nervous for race day.
All in all, despite the plethora of walking breaks. Desire to quit. Funny weather: muggy, humid, rain, hot. We managed a respectable 2:09. For me, the fact that I can say I ran 13.1 as a PRACTICE run baffles my mind. A year ago, I would have laughed at you. I would have thought it impossible. And yet, here I sit, slightly frustrated that I know we could have run faster. I'll chalk it up to keeping some in the vault...for the *REAL* Half. Though there was ABSOLUTELY nothing *fake* about the 13.15 miles I ran on Sunday.
All in all, it was an awesome race...WITH goodie bags. For $10, this is a race I would absolutely run again. FASTER.
And then more people showed up. Tents went up. More tables were set up. BIBS were handed out. Timers went up. Ummmm...FAKE Half, not so much. I still wasn't nervous. I intended to run the entire thing slow, or at least I would try. My main goal is to rock the Rock-n-roll Half in two weeks. I didn't want to hurt myself. Or overdo it.
I had the honor of running with someone who I see as a total Mommy Athlete Stud, Melissa. Her intentions were similar to mine. Rest legs. PRACTICE run. And then we set out...first mile: under 9 min/mile. Second mile: even faster. Third mile: even faster. Apparently, we are both a little more competitive than we thought.
All was rockin until the first aid station. It was muggy. I was thirsty. I reached out for the Cytomax. Stopped to walk and drink. I have NOT mastered the run and drink thing. At least not the run and drink AND get said liquid in my mouth thing. I Gu. I take off. About a half mile later, around 5 miles in, it hits. THE WORST SIDE STITCH I have ever had. Ever. I couldn't get a full deep breath. I tried to walk it out. Breath it out. It never really went away. I was pissed. And hurting. NO CYTOMAX for this girl, apparently. I ran, walked, jogged the remaining mileage. Feeling good for a stretch and then side lined by the side stitch. More than anything, this makes me completely scared and nervous for race day.
All in all, despite the plethora of walking breaks. Desire to quit. Funny weather: muggy, humid, rain, hot. We managed a respectable 2:09. For me, the fact that I can say I ran 13.1 as a PRACTICE run baffles my mind. A year ago, I would have laughed at you. I would have thought it impossible. And yet, here I sit, slightly frustrated that I know we could have run faster. I'll chalk it up to keeping some in the vault...for the *REAL* Half. Though there was ABSOLUTELY nothing *fake* about the 13.15 miles I ran on Sunday.
All in all, it was an awesome race...WITH goodie bags. For $10, this is a race I would absolutely run again. FASTER.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Getting discouraged
4 weeks. We have 4 weeks until our next race.
I have had craptastic run after craptastic run for the last few weeks.
I can't find time to run during the week. I can't find time to run with my running buddies.
I am starting to get discouraged.
I need one good run to get my head back into the game. One good run. Please let it happen for me this week.
I have had craptastic run after craptastic run for the last few weeks.
I can't find time to run during the week. I can't find time to run with my running buddies.
I am starting to get discouraged.
I need one good run to get my head back into the game. One good run. Please let it happen for me this week.
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