Half Marathon Takeaways

I’ve had a couple days to process Saturday’s race, and I’ve started sifting through some things I learned that I can focus on for the next one. (Cue “The more you KNOW…”)

1. My pace – in the end – wasn’t all that bad. Maybe I’m just bad at math, or lazy because I didn’t bother to actually figure out what my pace was when I finished (Oh wait, I AM bad at math!), but finishing in 2:29:10 means that my pace was 11:23. Most of my runs lately have been in the 10:30 area, so for an 13.1 mile run, with the cramping I had during the first loop, 11:23 ain’t too bad. In fact, I’m pretty darn proud of that pace. Takeaway: I need to recalibrate my Nike Plus app, because it was telling me my pace was around 12:20. THAT was discouraging.

2. Still, I need to push harder during my training runs. That’s what will really make the difference in my pace and endurance. I think I have a tendency to slack off a bit with my pace, especially during long runs. I need to go into my runs with a training mindset with the goal to improve, instead of, “OK, let’s get this over with!”

3. I also need to find some hillier courses so I can get my leggies used to a bit more up-and-down terrain. I mostly run on the Cardinal Greenway (flat), around IWU (flatty flat flat), or the Riverwalk (one or two hills, all paved). There’s a mental strength aspect to this, too – in the case of running on the Cardinal Greenway, you run straight for however long you want, passing few obstacles for miles on a flat surface. In trail running, you’re dodging low-hanging branches, hopping over roots, leaping over streams, slipping in mud (all of which I did on Saturday during the race). You have to keep your mind engaged to do all that without falling on your face.

4. As I’ve tried to pinpoint what could have caused the cramping, I’ve come to three things: 1) what I ate for breakfast, ie, digestive issues, 2) nerves, or 3) the somewhat invasive chick medical procedure I underwent two days before. With the food thing, maybe I’ll play around with eliminating wheat right before a run. I’ve heard that can cause stomach issues. With the nerves thing, ehh, hopefully as I become more confident in my abilities that will go away. (Although my friend Beth, who runs a LOT, says she still gets nerves-induced cramps before her races.) With #3, it was a one-time deal, so that shouldn’t be a problem next time.

The next four weeks will be interesting. We go down to one car, so I’ll be biking to work several days a week. With our busy weekend schedules, I’ll probably have to go down to three runs per week instead of four. I think though, that combined with the biking, I should be OK as long as I really push myself during my runs. Possibly I need more angry 80s rock on the playlist.

Sometimes I still can’t believe I did it…

Half Marathon Recap

Holy WHAT?? I just ran a half marathon! That’s 13.1 miles DONE.

This is a bit of a long post, but I wanted to make sure I documented everything. I got up at 5:00, ate a whole-wheat English muffin with peanut butter and a banana, my standard pre-long-run fuel. Steve and I were out of the house at 5:30 and headed to Zionsville, a small town northwest of Indy. (Isn’t he awesome? For getting up before dawn on a Saturday to watch his wife run?  He’s the best.)

When we pulled into the parking lot at the Zionsville town hall, we saw other runners gathering of all fitness levels. That was nice to see; crazy-fit people and normal people like me. I had been on the fence about using my iPhone (with the running app and music) and my water belt, but after checking in to sign the waiver, Steve encouraged me to use them. The course was three laps on dirt paths and paved trails, about 4.4 miles per lap. So, I went back to the car to fill up the water bottles, and joined the rest of the runners at the starting point. Well, actually pretty much at the back of the pack. I didn’t want to get caught up in a pace I knew I couldn’t sustain.

I chatted with a couple people, including one other guy who was using this race as a test run for a half marathon in a couple weeks. We talked about pacing, gear, how long we’ve been running, etc. It was nice to talk to someone who was at the same place I was, fitness-wise.

As we first started off, I felt great. I took it nice and slow for the first mile, just enjoying the scenery and the energy of people around me. The course was gorgeous – green, fresh air, gently flowing river. One mile out, I came to a four-switchback boardwalk. It had rained recently, so it was a teensy bit slippery. The course took us up and down the boardwalk on each lap. I ended up walking it a couple times, especially going up.

At around 2 miles, I started feeling terribly crampy. Like, dive behind the closest tree and grab some leaves that hopefully aren’t poison ivy crampy. It was agony. I don’t know why exactly, since I hadn’t eaten anything new that morning and I’d used the restroom right before the race. I switched to walking, drank some water, took deep breaths – even prayed. I was texting Steve to let him know why I was taking longer, and he asked if I thought I could finish.

“We’ll see,” I texted back. “You can do it!” he said.

As I finished the first lap, I was feeling better. I had some fruit snacks and more water, and kept on going. Lap 2 was fortunately uneventful. I was feeling pretty good, although the course was more difficult than I’d anticipated. The boardwalk, plus ups and downs in the dirt trail section, combined with having to take a long walking break during my first lap…my pace was not exactly awesome. My goal had been to finish in 2:30, but I was starting to doubt that I could do it.

As I finished lap 2, I handed my water belt to Steve to refill and ate some more fruit snacks. I had thought I would try to do the last lap without the belt, but after two laps, I knew I would need water. The temperature was in the 70s, but it was humid and I was sa-WEATING. I put the belt back on, said, “Let’s do this!” and was off again.

By now, I’d already been lapped by skinny dudes in tiny shorts. That was slightly demoralizing. I texted Steve to tell him, and he replied, “Don’t sweat it. Run your own race.”

During my last lap, there were times – especially in the trails that wound through the woods – that I was completely alone. I had a rough idea of who was ahead of me and who was behind me, but I couldn’t see anyone. I thought about something my good friend Judy told me last night, “Run and feel His pleasure,” a reference to Eric Liddel in Chariots of Fire. Especially during those times when it was just me and the squirrels, I thought about that. I thought about how thankful I was that God gave me strong legs, a beating heart, and lungs that can expand. I thought about my family – Steve who was still texting me encouraging things (“Legs of the ostrich!!”), Mom and Dad and my siblings who were at Cedarville to watch Karley graduate. I thought about how I started in March 2011 with the Couch-to-5K running plan, and now I’m pounding out a half marathon. Feeling His pleasure!

By mile 11, my legs were starting to hurt. My whole body was tired. I walked up the boardwalk to the final mile stretch. A deep breath, pumped up the volume on the tunes, and pressed on ahead. Right before I rounded the bend back to the finish, I pulled out my ear buds. I wanted to be completely in the moment as I finished. (So much so that I forgot to hit End Workout until 10 minutes after I crossed the finish!) I came around the trees, just a few meters from the finish, and saw the clock.

2:29:00

I gasped, “WHAT??” and just all-out sprinted to the end. I crossed the finish line at 2:29:11.

Steve was right there, cheering me on and snapping pictures. I started to cry as I realized what I’d just done, the goal I accomplished. And crying when you’re panting for breath isn’t a great thing to do! Gasp, gasp, gasp…it took me a while to catch my breath. Then I was just in shock! I did WHAT, now? I finished a half marathon?? Who does that?? And I did it in my goal time, even with the cramps and difficult terrain. Just crazy.

I had some water and a banana from the cooler, stretched and toweled off, and then we went on a short walk into the woods to find a nearby geocache to commemorate the occasion. Also, it’s Cinco de Mayo, so that’s fun, too!

Thank you, thank you so much to everyone who has encouraged me in this journey! I couldn’t have done it without you! Your words of wisdom, Facebook posts and Likes, compliments – it’s meant so much to me. As I considered quitting during the first leg, I thought of all the people who have encouraged me so wonderfully, and I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I’d backed out! Plus I’m pretty sure that Steve wouldn’t let me wuss out.

And now? A few days of rest, then the sneakers come back on as I train for the Ludington Lakestride half marathon on June 9. And then there’s this triathlon in September…

Sweaty, muddy, but oh so happy!

‘Twas the Night Before Race Day…

…And Rachel was slightly nervous that she’s running a half marathon tomorrow.

Now entering the ohgeezseriouslywhatwasIthinkingohgeezohgeez state of being. They say on teh interwebz that this is normal, and that it’s actually a form of mental preparation. Thinking through the race, visualizing it. It’s an unknown. Am I physically able to run 13.1 miles? I’m pretty sure I can, since I’ve run 11, but it’s still an unknown.

Generally, I’m okay with unknowns. Especially travelling unknowns. I have absolutely no fear of going to new places; in fact, I thrive on the burst of energy that comes from going to a place I’ve never been before.

But physical unknowns? Scares me to pieces. I’m not good with new medical procedures AT ALL. (Even shots make me squeamish) And unknowns regarding new feats of athleticism?

“AHHHH! What if I can’t do it?!”

Fear of failure? Lack of faith in myself and my abilities? Possibly maybe a little of both. I think being able to claim being able to run a half marathon as an accomplishment will be a huge boost. This 13.1 mile thing is a mile marker or roadblock I’ve created in my mind – if I can just GET there.

I feel strong. I feel powerful. I even feel sexy. So there’s nothing to be nervous about, right?

RIGHT!

So, I obsessively pack my essentials bag and get the cooler ready (no aid stations at the no-frills, for-frees Zionsville Anti-Mini Half Marathon). I set out my running clothes. I pick out a pair of tiny Nepali silver earrings that won’t bang against my ear buds. I rest.

Imma gonna rock tomorrow.

Running My Own Race

Next Saturday, I’ll be running my first half marathon at the Zionsville Anti-Mini Marathon, the same day as the Indy Mini. In central Indiana, the Indy Mini is like, THE race of the year. One of the biggest half marathons in the country, I think, with over 35,000 runners. It’s also $75 just to run, plus parking, food, and hotel. So I be doing the free one instead! I never was a huge fan of massive crowds, and I like the idea of running with 200 people instead of 35,000.

As it’s gotten closer, I find myself devouring websites about race preparation. What should I expect? How should I pace myself? What should I eat before the race? The anxiety grows even as I gain more information. Maybe BECAUSE of all the information! And I have my little hidden fears that get whispered to me in my head…

Hal Higdon says in my book about marathon training, “The best female runners are shaped like skinny men.” He doesn’t say that to discourage female runners, but it’s simply a matter of anatomy. Narrow hips and all that. But that would not be me, not even a little. I have things like hips and curves, plus I still want to lose another 23 pounds. I like my legs – they’re crazy muscular – but they are definitely chick legs.

And I’m not fast, not even a little. My average pace is about 10:30 right now. In my more morose moments, I wonder if I even have a right to run a half marathon.

And then I stumbled on a blog about running that talked about running your own race. Don’t think about the others. Don’t think about your prior expectations, hopes, plans, goals – just run your own race. Listen to your body. Know when to push, when to back off, when to fuel. Trust the work you’ve put in. Trust all those miles that you pounded out in all types of weather.

I like that idea. Because there’s one thing I DO know: I will finish. It might not look pretty and it might take a long time, but I’ll finish. Cuz I’ll be running my own race.