Tricia, Moi, Janielle and Sylvia
Running a local 1/2 marathon sounded like a great idea, especially because the majority of the race would be in areas I frequently run in the Upper Valley. Other pluses: my running buds were all interested, no traveling would be involved, no change in elevation, and we would have the hometown crowd advantage. I really liked the idea of running the last mile on the race track as I just knew that would cause an adrenalin rush at the finish. I did not like the idea that our image would be shown on a mega screen but ignored that fact so I wouldn't talk myself out of signing up for the Flying Horse 1/2.
The 8 am start time was later than I liked because warmer weather would slow me down. Not to worry, El Paso delivered the first cold day of the season, with a 44º starting temperature plus a gusty breeze. Brrrrrfect.
After positioning ourselves on the track there was a peaceful and patriotic silence as we listened to "The Star Spangled Banner" trumpet solo while watching our flag waving in the breeze. That was followed by the traditional first call and the bell, and then we were off.
Sylvia and I knew that the young 'uns would leave us in the dust, but we were able to stay together and were keeping the pace we hoped to, right around a 10-minute mile almost to mile 7. This is when I usually find some extra energy and kick it up, but not this time. Right when I thought I was going to lengthen my stride I hit a wall. I made sure Sylvia knew that she shouldn't hang back with me, thinking for sure I would regain some energy and catch up.
Mile after mile I struggled just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. This was a first, a very discouraging first time that I was unable to mentally work through the fatigue. I was mad at myself for not getting enough sleep during the week. I was mad at myself for not adding protein to the pasta I had for dinner the night before. I was mad at myself for not knowing what else to do but plod along. I was really mad at myself for giving up processed sugar all week and didn't even take a nibble of the triple chocolate cake or pumpkin Boston cream pie we had at the office the day before.
Just before mile 11 I did something I've never done. I walked. For about 45 seconds. And a little later I did it again. Still unbelievably fatigued I headed into the last mile before the track and then I was on the track, that l-o-n-g mile of dirt with people watching from the stands. How mortifying. I did my best to pick up my pace and look like I was having the time of my life. Into the final stretch I was passed by one or two, maybe three people. Hurrah for me, so generously letting them have a better time! I finished. When I saw the time - 2:25:59 I was surprised because I thought I had been much slower. But I was still 5 minutes, at least, off of what I felt would be a reasonable finish time, and almost 11 minutes off my goal. Ah well, the good, the bad and the ugly all rolled into one.
Other than some achy calves and sore lower back for most of the rest of the day, and being slightly stiff and needing a nap on Sunday I don't feel any worse for the wear. Does that mean I didn't try hard enough? I keep second-guessing myself and landing back at knowing that I did give it all I had. I just need to use the experience to learn and grow, to be patient with myself. Saturday I was pretty sure I wouldn't want to do another 1/2 again. Sunday I was willing to consider it. Today I know I have to because I know I haven't run my best race yet.
And my running buds? They were AWESOME! Tricia ran a 2:09 (she thought it was brutal too, but she's an Arizona girl and didn't like the cold!); Janielle ran a 2:12, besting her Bear Lake time by 16 minutes! and Sylvia ran a 2:19 in her first 1/2!!! I'm so proud of all of them, and grateful for the friendship and love - and running - that we share.
Looking for my next 1/2 - open for suggestions!
November 2012 epiphany: I am now an absolute believer in the rule that you shouldn't try anything new on race day. The day before the race I bought a pretty snazzy pair of Zoot compression sleeves, hoping to cut down on the achy calves I have after most longer runs. They did the trick for recovery, but it took me over a month to figure out that they actually slow me down if I wear them when I run. Now I just wear them for 1/2 hour to 1 hour after each run, and my legs feel fresh from the start.
The 8 am start time was later than I liked because warmer weather would slow me down. Not to worry, El Paso delivered the first cold day of the season, with a 44º starting temperature plus a gusty breeze. Brrrrrfect.
After positioning ourselves on the track there was a peaceful and patriotic silence as we listened to "The Star Spangled Banner" trumpet solo while watching our flag waving in the breeze. That was followed by the traditional first call and the bell, and then we were off.
Sylvia and I knew that the young 'uns would leave us in the dust, but we were able to stay together and were keeping the pace we hoped to, right around a 10-minute mile almost to mile 7. This is when I usually find some extra energy and kick it up, but not this time. Right when I thought I was going to lengthen my stride I hit a wall. I made sure Sylvia knew that she shouldn't hang back with me, thinking for sure I would regain some energy and catch up.
Not to be. My GuBrew didn't help. My peanut butter Gu didn't help. My mantras didn't help. I couldn't even get my brain to think of scripture mastery verses.
Mile after mile I struggled just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. This was a first, a very discouraging first time that I was unable to mentally work through the fatigue. I was mad at myself for not getting enough sleep during the week. I was mad at myself for not adding protein to the pasta I had for dinner the night before. I was mad at myself for not knowing what else to do but plod along. I was really mad at myself for giving up processed sugar all week and didn't even take a nibble of the triple chocolate cake or pumpkin Boston cream pie we had at the office the day before.
Just before mile 11 I did something I've never done. I walked. For about 45 seconds. And a little later I did it again. Still unbelievably fatigued I headed into the last mile before the track and then I was on the track, that l-o-n-g mile of dirt with people watching from the stands. How mortifying. I did my best to pick up my pace and look like I was having the time of my life. Into the final stretch I was passed by one or two, maybe three people. Hurrah for me, so generously letting them have a better time! I finished. When I saw the time - 2:25:59 I was surprised because I thought I had been much slower. But I was still 5 minutes, at least, off of what I felt would be a reasonable finish time, and almost 11 minutes off my goal. Ah well, the good, the bad and the ugly all rolled into one.
Other than some achy calves and sore lower back for most of the rest of the day, and being slightly stiff and needing a nap on Sunday I don't feel any worse for the wear. Does that mean I didn't try hard enough? I keep second-guessing myself and landing back at knowing that I did give it all I had. I just need to use the experience to learn and grow, to be patient with myself. Saturday I was pretty sure I wouldn't want to do another 1/2 again. Sunday I was willing to consider it. Today I know I have to because I know I haven't run my best race yet.
And my running buds? They were AWESOME! Tricia ran a 2:09 (she thought it was brutal too, but she's an Arizona girl and didn't like the cold!); Janielle ran a 2:12, besting her Bear Lake time by 16 minutes! and Sylvia ran a 2:19 in her first 1/2!!! I'm so proud of all of them, and grateful for the friendship and love - and running - that we share.
Looking for my next 1/2 - open for suggestions!
November 2012 epiphany: I am now an absolute believer in the rule that you shouldn't try anything new on race day. The day before the race I bought a pretty snazzy pair of Zoot compression sleeves, hoping to cut down on the achy calves I have after most longer runs. They did the trick for recovery, but it took me over a month to figure out that they actually slow me down if I wear them when I run. Now I just wear them for 1/2 hour to 1 hour after each run, and my legs feel fresh from the start.
