I ran my first 20 mile run this past weekend. Sure, the calendar only said 18, but if you round up, that's 20, right?
It was a nice, relatively flat run, but man was it sunny and hot. I poured almost as much water on my head as I drank! At one point about 16 miles into the run, some company had their sprinklers running and I just zig-zagged my way through each and every sprinkler, pausing at the final sprinkler to let it just soak me. Sure it slowed my time down a little bit, but it was worth every second! A mile later I had completely air dried.
The first 18 miles were actually pretty good, but those last two...I just wasn't sure if I could make it to twenty miles. The self-doubt melted away (like the sunscreen I had applied over three hours earlier) as I tried to finish strong during the last half mile. Did I feel happy afterwards! After Saturday, I KNOW I can run 26.2 in October when I run my very first marathon. Will I make my sub 4-hour goal? Well, I'm not sure about that, but I am going to try my best and I am going to try my best to believe!
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
A Team Thing
I ran in my second relay race a few weeks ago up in Lake Tahoe.
The DeCelle Memorial Lake Tahoe Relay Race is the oldest relay race and takes runners on an adventure around scenic Lake Tahoe. It's a beautiful run and challenging too. For some runners, running at 6,000 feet proves to be a formidable challenge. The course has plenty of hills as well.
I've run the Hood to Coast Relay Race in Oregon. That was a fun race as well, but the size of these two races give them very different vibes. Hood to Coast was crazy - vans were everywhere, teams decorated their vans extensively, traffic was insane. On one leg, we were stuck in a Hood to Coast traffic jam and as our current runner passed us (running) the next runner had to jump out, pull on his shoes and sprint up to the exchange. Lake Tahoe Relay Race was way more mellow and laid back (perhaps not running around the clock for over a day mellows things out a bit). They were both a ton of fun.
On the drive home after the race, we saw a few of the last teams finishing up. Two teams looked destined for DNFs. What a bummer! 6 runners finish their legs, perhaps even the 7th runner finishes, but the record book shows a DNF.
The DeCelle Memorial Lake Tahoe Relay Race is the oldest relay race and takes runners on an adventure around scenic Lake Tahoe. It's a beautiful run and challenging too. For some runners, running at 6,000 feet proves to be a formidable challenge. The course has plenty of hills as well.
I've run the Hood to Coast Relay Race in Oregon. That was a fun race as well, but the size of these two races give them very different vibes. Hood to Coast was crazy - vans were everywhere, teams decorated their vans extensively, traffic was insane. On one leg, we were stuck in a Hood to Coast traffic jam and as our current runner passed us (running) the next runner had to jump out, pull on his shoes and sprint up to the exchange. Lake Tahoe Relay Race was way more mellow and laid back (perhaps not running around the clock for over a day mellows things out a bit). They were both a ton of fun.
On the drive home after the race, we saw a few of the last teams finishing up. Two teams looked destined for DNFs. What a bummer! 6 runners finish their legs, perhaps even the 7th runner finishes, but the record book shows a DNF.
Relay races bring a new element to running - the team element. When I run a 10-K or half marathon, I'm accountable only to myself. Running in a relay race puts more pressure on me - I want to perform well - I don't want to let my team down. It's a very different feeling, that's for sure. I think it's good to run with a team once in a while because I think we are capable of pushing ourselves harder when other people are counting on us.
I'm ready for some more relay races now!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
A Monster PR
Last weekend, I joined a small group of friends for a weekend of wine tasting and running. "Wine tasting and running, really?", you might ask. Yes, really (even though I wasn't all too sure myself whether this was a good combo or not).
I lined up at the start on race day morning with zero expectations. I had no goal pace or time. The "real" race I have been training for is coming up in another two weeks, so this was just a fun run. I was going to run with friends, and enjoy conversation and the scenery of wine country.
The race wasn't too crowded. The only waves at the start were those from friends and family members who had come out to cheer on the runners. Those first few miles felt good. We ran up and down a couple of rolling hills and then hit the first meaningful descent. Woah! I could learn a thing or two from my friends about descending hills - I barely kept up! When we hit the next up hill, one of my running pals was not feeling the greatest, so my friends decided to cut back on the tempo.
It's a decision every runner who runs with a friend or friends has faced at one point or another....do I forge ahead, or stay with my friend? My veteran running buddies had no qualms about encouraging me ahead. So I kept going. I actually believed that with all the hills and their mad good descending skills, I would see them again soon.
I did not seem them again until the finish line.
I felt great. Loose. Relaxed. Enjoying the scenery. Enjoying conversations with other runners. One runner complimented an elderly male runner as we each made our way past. "You're truly an inspiration!", she said. "I hope to be just like you some day!" We chatted about growing old and staying fit. We talked about the importance of building bone density today (she was 29) so that we are strong when we are older. We talked about how expensive race registration fees were for the Rock 'n Roll series. We talked about our training. She'd been having problems with shin splints and had not been able to train much. She was running at what felt like a blistering pace. I was just trying to keep up. And then she paused. It was the kind of pause I've experienced just before the runner says, "well, been nice chatting with you, have a great race!" and sprints off into the distance. I thought to myself "You've been a delightful running partner. I know you want to go faster - thanks for the run!" Then she said, "well, I'm going to let you go ahead now, I need to take the down hill easy. Have a great run!".
Woah, was someone seriously saying that to me?
"Have a great run", I yelled, and off I went. I had become the other runner. The fast runner.
I saw my friend in one of the photos and looked up her time from her bib number. She finished only 3 minutes after I did at a pace I would have been thrilled to have run that day.
At mile 7, I saw my husband. It always makes my day to see my sweetheart on the course. He always has encouraging words and today, he was able to help lighten my load. I had wore arm warmers, but as the race went on, I had rolled them down. I had also brought my iPod, but had not used it at all. Well, one of the additional benefits to seeing my husband on the course was being able to unload these items mid-run. We chatted about how I was feeling as he biked along beside me. I confessed to my husband that I was aware that I was going faster than I anticipated. I warned him (and me) that "I might blow up". He said there was no way I was going to blow up. That I was going to crush it today and we both knew it. He wished me good luck and promised to see me at the finish. By mile 8, I had a lighter load and happy spirits.
At mile 10, I had another great conversation with a fellow runner. I was working my way up to her and she said to herself, "come on, just three more miles". "That's, right", I said, "only a 5-K to go". She was shooting to run the race in under two hours. It was her first half marathon. I told her she could do it, wished her good luck and kept going. Was I really running this fast?
Then it happened. I passed the 12 mile mark and saw it. The hill. I had been warned about a hill. I had checked the elevation chart and compared the hill to the infamous "Donald Street Hill" (a hill in a race I've run a half a dozen times and used to regularly train on). It seemed smaller, shorter, less steep...basically I was not emotionally prepared for the evil hill that rose before me.
Some spectators lined the hill, cheering us up and on. The pace I was moving at could hardly be considered running. I checked my watch. I still had 12 minutes left to get to the top and make the two hour mark. The two hour mark has been my coveted goal since I began running half marathons. "Quick feet", I chanted to myself, hoping somehow my feet would grow wings and sail me to the top of the hill. I looked up briefly. Photographer. Great. "This is where they put the camera? There goes another shot at a good race photo", I thought to myself. Finally I made it to the top of the hill. "Where was the finish line?", I wondered. And then I saw the runners ahead of me slogging down and up another hill. I checked my watch again, I still had 8 minutes to make my two hour cut-off. Then I saw my husband again. "How much farther?", I asked, begging for the pain to end. "It's not much farther, just a few hundred yards! You're doing great!", shouted my husband.
I turned a corner and finally saw the finish. I summoned every ounce of energy to sprint to the finish.
1:54:55.
An 11 minute PR! I crossed the finish line and started to cry. You would have thought I had won the race (or at least my weight in wine - the prize to the top male and female runners).
I lined up that morning expecting nothing but a good time, a fun run, some conversation, and some scenery. I got all those things (in different ways than I had envisioned) and more. It was a great day!
My friends? I felt bad about leaving them earlier in the run, but they were so stoked for me that I knew there wasn't any reason to feel badly. And they still ran a great time. A time that would have been a PR for me in February and a time that I would have been delighted to run that very day.
I am still in amazement and I still get emotional just thinking about the race.
Wow.
I lined up at the start on race day morning with zero expectations. I had no goal pace or time. The "real" race I have been training for is coming up in another two weeks, so this was just a fun run. I was going to run with friends, and enjoy conversation and the scenery of wine country.
The race wasn't too crowded. The only waves at the start were those from friends and family members who had come out to cheer on the runners. Those first few miles felt good. We ran up and down a couple of rolling hills and then hit the first meaningful descent. Woah! I could learn a thing or two from my friends about descending hills - I barely kept up! When we hit the next up hill, one of my running pals was not feeling the greatest, so my friends decided to cut back on the tempo.
It's a decision every runner who runs with a friend or friends has faced at one point or another....do I forge ahead, or stay with my friend? My veteran running buddies had no qualms about encouraging me ahead. So I kept going. I actually believed that with all the hills and their mad good descending skills, I would see them again soon.
I did not seem them again until the finish line.
I felt great. Loose. Relaxed. Enjoying the scenery. Enjoying conversations with other runners. One runner complimented an elderly male runner as we each made our way past. "You're truly an inspiration!", she said. "I hope to be just like you some day!" We chatted about growing old and staying fit. We talked about the importance of building bone density today (she was 29) so that we are strong when we are older. We talked about how expensive race registration fees were for the Rock 'n Roll series. We talked about our training. She'd been having problems with shin splints and had not been able to train much. She was running at what felt like a blistering pace. I was just trying to keep up. And then she paused. It was the kind of pause I've experienced just before the runner says, "well, been nice chatting with you, have a great race!" and sprints off into the distance. I thought to myself "You've been a delightful running partner. I know you want to go faster - thanks for the run!" Then she said, "well, I'm going to let you go ahead now, I need to take the down hill easy. Have a great run!".
Woah, was someone seriously saying that to me?
"Have a great run", I yelled, and off I went. I had become the other runner. The fast runner.
I saw my friend in one of the photos and looked up her time from her bib number. She finished only 3 minutes after I did at a pace I would have been thrilled to have run that day.
At mile 7, I saw my husband. It always makes my day to see my sweetheart on the course. He always has encouraging words and today, he was able to help lighten my load. I had wore arm warmers, but as the race went on, I had rolled them down. I had also brought my iPod, but had not used it at all. Well, one of the additional benefits to seeing my husband on the course was being able to unload these items mid-run. We chatted about how I was feeling as he biked along beside me. I confessed to my husband that I was aware that I was going faster than I anticipated. I warned him (and me) that "I might blow up". He said there was no way I was going to blow up. That I was going to crush it today and we both knew it. He wished me good luck and promised to see me at the finish. By mile 8, I had a lighter load and happy spirits.
At mile 10, I had another great conversation with a fellow runner. I was working my way up to her and she said to herself, "come on, just three more miles". "That's, right", I said, "only a 5-K to go". She was shooting to run the race in under two hours. It was her first half marathon. I told her she could do it, wished her good luck and kept going. Was I really running this fast?
Then it happened. I passed the 12 mile mark and saw it. The hill. I had been warned about a hill. I had checked the elevation chart and compared the hill to the infamous "Donald Street Hill" (a hill in a race I've run a half a dozen times and used to regularly train on). It seemed smaller, shorter, less steep...basically I was not emotionally prepared for the evil hill that rose before me.
Some spectators lined the hill, cheering us up and on. The pace I was moving at could hardly be considered running. I checked my watch. I still had 12 minutes left to get to the top and make the two hour mark. The two hour mark has been my coveted goal since I began running half marathons. "Quick feet", I chanted to myself, hoping somehow my feet would grow wings and sail me to the top of the hill. I looked up briefly. Photographer. Great. "This is where they put the camera? There goes another shot at a good race photo", I thought to myself. Finally I made it to the top of the hill. "Where was the finish line?", I wondered. And then I saw the runners ahead of me slogging down and up another hill. I checked my watch again, I still had 8 minutes to make my two hour cut-off. Then I saw my husband again. "How much farther?", I asked, begging for the pain to end. "It's not much farther, just a few hundred yards! You're doing great!", shouted my husband.
I turned a corner and finally saw the finish. I summoned every ounce of energy to sprint to the finish.
1:54:55.
An 11 minute PR! I crossed the finish line and started to cry. You would have thought I had won the race (or at least my weight in wine - the prize to the top male and female runners).
I lined up that morning expecting nothing but a good time, a fun run, some conversation, and some scenery. I got all those things (in different ways than I had envisioned) and more. It was a great day!
My friends? I felt bad about leaving them earlier in the run, but they were so stoked for me that I knew there wasn't any reason to feel badly. And they still ran a great time. A time that would have been a PR for me in February and a time that I would have been delighted to run that very day.
I am still in amazement and I still get emotional just thinking about the race.
Wow.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Quick Feet
Last weekend, I ran 12 miles for my long run. It was a really windy day, so I set my run up to run the first 6 miles into the wind. The last 6 miles, even though they were mostly uphill, were with the wind. It was a great plan and it worked out really well too.
When I started my run, I felt like I wasn't moving at all (winds were about 20 mph). I decided that since the wind was going to make forward progress feel difficult, I would try to move my feet fast. "Quick feet. Quick feet." I kept repeating it to myself. It was great! I felt light on my feet and finished the run at a much faster pace than I had hoped.
Quick feet.
It might just be my new mantra!
When I started my run, I felt like I wasn't moving at all (winds were about 20 mph). I decided that since the wind was going to make forward progress feel difficult, I would try to move my feet fast. "Quick feet. Quick feet." I kept repeating it to myself. It was great! I felt light on my feet and finished the run at a much faster pace than I had hoped.
Quick feet.
It might just be my new mantra!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Running Mind Games
I think I need to add a new song to my running playlist...."Head Games" by Foreigner.
Head games, it's you and me baby
Head games, and I can't take it anymore
Head games, I don't wanna play the...
Head games
Sometimes, I am out running and what I refer to as the NST (negative self talk), kicks in. Negative thoughts are running through my mind and I just want to stop and go home. It can be incredibly difficult for me to overcome the negative thoughts. I have tried to do things like re-focus on just the running - counting steps or breaths - so that the NST doesn't have time to fit into my thoughts. "Inhale (1-2-3), Exhale (1-2). Inhale (1-2-3), Exhale (1-2)." But NST is powerful, and it creeps back in like a draft underneath a door on a cold, blustery night.
A couple strategies have helped me overcome this head game. The first, is what goes into my mind before the run. Because I am keenly aware of my tendency to have negative thoughts during long or hard runs, I plant positive thoughts in my mind before I head out the door. I also plan and prepare for my runs. "Gu? Check. Water? Check. Good tunes? Check."
There are days, though, when all the planning and preparation is not powerful enough to overcome the NST. It's just there, running with me and it seems like I will never shake it.
The second strategy has turned out to be more powerful than the first and focuses on what goes into my mind during the run. The one thing that has consistently helped me get over the NST - having a mantra. Conceptually, the idea is similar to my attempts to focus on my steps or breaths. It's a distraction technique away from the NST and toward something more positive.
The running mantra works better for me than counting steps or breaths, because it reminds me of what I am trying to accomplish. My first running mantra was something I came up with after a six month break from running due to emotionally exhausting events in my life. I wasn't running to break a PR or to qualify for Boston. I was running for my fitness and to gain control back over my life. My mantra was:
"Get fit. Get healthy. Get strong."
It worked for me. I used it for about a year and am ready for a new one now. I've tried out "Just Run" (a play on words from the Lady Gaga song). I like it, but I'm not quite sold on it. I've also used "I Get To" [run]. This one came directly from a Runner's World article I read about a year or so ago. So many people don't get to run because they are injured or sick. I am the lucky one - I get to run.
The one I used during my last half marathon was "The Faster You Run, The Faster You're Done!" I need to come up with something catchy and positive, though.
In the meantime, I'm going to stick with "Just Run" because it works really well with my current running playlist. Whenever Lady Gaga sings "Just Dance", I sing "Just Run" and I'm good to go.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Race Entry Fees
I generally don't blink an eye at paying $30 or even $40 here and there for a 10K or $80-$85 for a half marathon, but the other day I went to register for San Diego's Rock-N-Roll Half Marathon and had serious race registration fee sticker shock...$125! Seriously?! Add in processing fees and we're talking $10 per mile. What do I get for that big entry fee? A shirt. A finisher's medal. A free beer at the finish. Am I really going to pay $10/mile to run? Probably. I thought that maybe since it's a TNT event, I would be able to take part of it as a charitable contribution on my tax return, but no go there. I contemplated just registering for the full marathon because the price per mile drops dramatically ($160 for the full so just about $6.11 per mile). In the end, I'm sure I'll register for the half and defer buying that new iPod for another month.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
What a great run!
The Surf City half marathon turned out to be a great race for me! I set a personal record and didn't even really suffer all that much in the process. I wrote down all the things that I did to prepare (water, granola, gu, etc.) to make sure I can replicate the "morning of" as much as possible.
I'm pretty stoked and ready for another half!
I also ran with the running club again this week. I love these people!
I'm pretty stoked and ready for another half!
I also ran with the running club again this week. I love these people!
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