Race Report: Wichita Prairie Fire 1/2 Marathon

You guys didn't even know I was training for a half marathon, did you? Well, neither did my body, at times. Have to admit, I wasn't too concerned with training in general. I put my long runs in, but didn't do much running beyond that. I certainly wasn't that committed to my program. I had the goal of running under two hours this time, but wasn't really putting in the time to achieve it.

Race morning I overslept a little bit, and wound up rushing through a morning routine. Put lube all over my feet (not enough, it turns out). Grabbed a race belt for my number and ate some oatmeal and a fried egg. My running buddy picked me up, and we were out the door for downtown Wichita. We jogged across the bridge over the Arkansas River (which looks more like a meadow, right now), got a cup of coffee (Prairie Fire, the main sponsor, is a local coffee roaster and distributor), and went to stand in line for a dozen port-a-johns. There were a dozen port-a-johns, and the race directors were expecting around 4,000 people. Anyone else see a problem with that?

So we stood in line for a good 30 minutes, and got out of the toilets just in time to start the race on time. It was a close call, though. I was stripping my jacket off as we ran, and fortunately saw my dad on the sideline, waiting to start the 5k. He was kind enough to babysit my jacket for the duration of the half marathon. And then I plugged in my headphones and got to work, side-by-side with my running buddy.

I sped away within the first mile, trying to cut through the crowds, fully aware that I should slow down and bide my time. But I hate being behind people! So I took off and ditched my running buddy. She caught me up at around mile 3, going steady the whole time. We made it until somewhere between miles 4 and 5 together, then there was a hill, and I just felt like pushing it, knowing (again) that I was going to pay for it later.

And it was in college hill that things started to get tough. My calves had already been tight, but that was starting to fade. But somewhere after mile 5, where I usually start to feel really good, I ended up with a tough cramp in my left psoas (deep in the front of the hip). I ran through it, and it spread to my right quadratus lumborem (low back). I found that if I breathed deeply and engaged my transverse abdominus (deep belly) on my exhale, it went away. And I kept running.

I kind of hit a very short second wind around mile 6 (I think it was my first gel kicking in), but it didn't carry me very far. I took another gel somewhere around mile 9, and was feeling good by mile 10, ready to push it in the last 5k. Miles 11 and 12 went really well. Then the wheels came off. I was suffering, with just a mile left to go, and my body just wouldn't work anymore. Both my psoas cramped, my low back cramped, my middle back cramped, my shoulders cramped, my diaphragm cramped. I could hardly breathe the pain was so sharp and so bad.

I slowed to a walk a couple of different times. The pain was just too bad, and I couldn't make my body do it anymore. My iPod was telling me, "He will make a way where there is no way / He will bring His peace where there is no peace." I took my headphones out. I found that I could concentrate better that way.

I passed the 13 mile marker and checked my watch. 1:59:31. I had to run a 5 minute mile pace to meet my goal. I was doing well just to keep running. I managed to run strong across the line in 2:00:31, just 31 seconds shy of my goal. And I felt just fine about that.

I grabbed a bottle of water and a mylar blanket, even though I was burning up, and staggered in the direction of the medical tent, barely able to stand from the pain of the cramping. I figured I'd hang out there for a while, just in case. I managed to get both shoes off, and discovered a big, bloody blister the size of a quarter in my left instep. The right instep had a blister, too, but no blood. I eventually just laid down on one of the cots in the medical tent, and felt immediately better since my psoas weren't being tasked with holding up my whole body anymore.

My dad found me and congratulated me and showed appropriate pity for my disgusting blisters. He also gave me a Gatorade protein recovery drink that they'd given him after his 5k (which ended up being more like a 5 mile run, because the course wasn't properly marked and the lead cyclist missed the turn) and he hadn't needed. I made myself drink that, then managed to leave the med tent and start staggering around to look for my running buddy, who had passed me in that last mile and left me in the dust. She was looking and feeling great (she's still in great shape from taking 4th in her age group at Vineman)!

I'm going to try again to go under 2 hours in the spring at the Wichita Half Marathon. I think it will be a cinch, if I actually train and nail my nutrition. I don't know what I need to do differently with the nutrition, but I assume that all that cramping was an indication that something was very wrong. So I need to dial that in a little better. I had water and Gatorade on the course, and took two gels. I felt well-hydrated going into the race, but obviously it could have been better in some respect. And I probably didn't pace myself as well as I should have. I think I would have been fine if I had just stuck with my buddy the whole time; I think I could have finished with her with no problem.

I do feel like I pushed my body absolutely as hard as I could on this particular day. The weather was cool and rainy and overcast, but a little humid. I would have liked it a little bit colder, actually. But it was a good day for a run. And the pain that I am in now tells me that I demanded a lot from my body, as much as I could. The Photographer was concerned that I was in so much pain (and grossed out by my blister), so I had to explain that for me this is actually a good thing!

And hey! I also set a new PR by almost two minutes!

Total: 2:00:32
Mile 1: 9:06
Mile 2: 9:10
Mile 3: 9:37 (stopped to walk an aid station)
Mile 4: 8:54
Mile 5: 9:15
Mile 6: 9:16
Mile 7: 9:07
Mile 8-9: 18:21 (never saw the 8 mile marker)
Mile 10: 9:12
Mile 11: 8:55 (picking it up for the last 5k!)
Mile 12: 9:09
Mile 13: 9:23
The last tenth: 1:02

Race Report: River Run '10

PR! PR! PR!

So . . . this race report is over 2 weeks late. If I were pregnant, and the baby were 2 weeks late, I would be pissed. It's a good thing my blog is not my baby. Because if it were, it would have died from neglect this month.

Anyway. Back into the race report.

The River Run is THE race in Wichita. Actually, it's arguably the largest race in Kansas (the big Kansas City races are on the MO side, natch). There were around 2200 signed up for the 10k, and another 3200 who finished the 2 mile race. More people than that signed up, but that's how many finished. The River Run has had up to 10,000 participants in past years. In other words, around here it's a big deal.

That's me and The Photographer. And Craig. From cycling class.

I rode my bike to the race, all on the bike paths. It was a little chilly, and my hands and feet were frozen by the time I reached downtown Wichita. The Photographer was there, and I found her right away. What took me much longer was finding my dad. I was later than I'd expected to be, and he'd already put his phone away. I found him at our arranged meeting point, and we walked way far away to where he'd parked so I could stow my bike and spare gear in his car. We jogged back to the start line (a good mile), and I decided that I HAD to find a toilet. So I went to stand in a remarkably short port-a-pottie line (great organization from the River Festival folks), and came back out right as they were announcing "90 seconds to the start!" I hustled to the mass of humanity waiting to run, and pressed as far forward as I dared, trying to seed myself for the mass start. This would turn out to be my big mistake for the day.

When the cannon blasted, everyone sort of jumped forward, like they were going to be able to run or something. I walked. No sense in making the 10k one step longer than it has to be! The start line was hard to miss at this race, and so I was able to start my watch right where it should start. The pack was moving slowly, though. I couldn't open up any kind of speed, except in bursts. I really seeded myself too far back; I should have pressed forward closer to the front. I spent a good mile running, walking, and sprinting, trying to get around the slower runners and up to my own speed. Running through the narrow streets of Old Town was the worst. I hopped up onto a raised planter and ran along that for a while, trying to pass people from above. The course cleared out sufficiently after the Old Town section, and I was able to move myself up through the ranks a little.

In spite of the sluggish start, I hit the 2-mile split in 17:01!

After finally working my speed up to a good (for me) pace, I checked my heart rate and settled in at about 163 BPM. I've realized that the best way for me to pace my races is probably by heart rate. I know it's variable, but the last time I tried to run by pace at a 10k, I really blew up. I'll keep experimenting with race strategies, but I was confident that a heart-rate based pace would help me do my best for the River Run. I really wanted to redeem my performance at the Easter Sun Run, at which I was not very happy with my performance.

Keeping my heart rate in the 160s, I tried to find someone off of whom I could mentally draft. You know, let them set the pace and just kind of dove-tail. I ran with a few people for a little bit; one of them seemed almost perfect. She was running just the right pace, and I think I stayed with her for about a 1/2 mile. Then her pace got a little quicker, and my heart rate got a little higher, and I decided that it was harder than I wanted to work before the half-way point. So I let her go, and felt pretty good about it. I hit the half-way point in 25:59. 

After the 3-mile mark, I let my heart rate start moving up to 165-168; at 4 miles (34:33), I let it creep up to 170; at 5 miles (42:58), I just opened it up. And right about that time, I came upon the woman who'd out-paced me previously. Apparently she had run a little harder than she could sustain, too. I locked into step with her. We ran right through the water station (I'd made a point of hydrating for two days prior to the race so I wouldn't need to slow down), and I thought I'd lost her in the crowd. Then I spied her a couple yards ahead and most of the way across the road. I reeled her in, then settled down to stay with her until just before the finish.

We played a little bit, testing each other's strength and speed. She'd try to surge; I'd try to surge. Coming around the last corner, with just about 400 m to go, I picked up my pace significantly, hoping to drop her before I had to out-sprint her. No dice. She responded, and stayed right with me. It was less than 100 m to the line before I really opened up the sprint, and felt her slowly dropping back. I crossed the line with her maybe two seconds behind, and stopped my watch at 52:37, a new PR.

Me and my running buddy in lockstep. This is right where I started to drop her.

I had the most vicious side stitch, and my running buddy was bent over like she was going to hurl. I gave her a hug and thanked her for pushing me to my limits. She expressed the same sentiment. My Photographer found me, and we went over together to watch my dad finish. He came across in under an hour--a new PR for him, too! After we collected him, lo and behold! there were my mom and younger brother! They had woken up early (a true sacrifice for my mom) to come see us race! It was very special to me. Thanks to Stephen for helping my mom wake up!

My parents and me.

This was a great race. It was fun and well-organized. Genesis Health Clubs, the gyms at which I work, are one of the main sponsors for the race, so there were plenty of familiar faces on the race course and in the crowd. I ran in to Jerome Biggars, who's lost almost 300 lbs and had run his first 10k that day. I saw buddies from the cycling scene, and from the tri scene. I ran past people I've taught to swim and coached to their first 70.3s. I even ran into a couple who come to my 8:00 Arthritis water aerobics class, whose son was running the 10k.

And my whole family was there, which just can't be beat. Reflecting on it now (two weeks later), I realize that it was one of the best races I've had--fun, friendly, and with a new PR to boot.

Race Report: Emporia Spring Migration '10

Thanks to my Photographer for putting together this video and taking all these pictures. I'm really lucky to have such a wonderful and talented . . . Photographer.

Podium.

That's what you need to know, straight off. 2nd place, female overall. Podium, baby.

This has been my first time making it that far up the ranks, and it was my primary goal for this race. Go for it, go all out, and get into the top 3 overall. And I did it.

Still, I'm not quite content. The race was smaller this year than it has been previously. I don't feel like the field was as competitive, especially on the women's side. A lot of familiar faces were missing, including a few friendly rivals. And (as always) I know that I could still go faster. So there's still room to improve.

Pre-race

A certain special Photographer came with me to this race, and it was wonderful to have some company on the ride up, and some support as I readied myself for competition. Also interesting was seeing triathlon in a new way, as I introduced someone new (a tri virgin, if you will) to the wonders of multisport. It makes everything more fascinating; lets you see it through new eyes.

Registration and body-marking were straight-forward. There was only a slight breeze, but it was chilly (not as chilly as last year), and the sky was grey. The main thing that struck me--and I could not get over this--was how few faces I knew, and how the familiar faces were conspicuously absent. It was kind of sad, really. Still, there were a few that I recognized, and I got to chat with some of the folks I've met casually at other races, or in previous years. Also? Got to introduce The Photographer.

Warm up was 15 minutes on the bike--very chilly!--followed by a mile on the track. And several bathroom stops. My stomach was roiling with nerves. Between the bike, run, and bathroom, I ran out of time for a swim warm-up. I went to stand in the snake between numbers 46 and 49 (48 was a no-show) and waited for my turn to come.

Swim: 400m in 7:36 (1:53/100m, 7:35 in '09)

I always feel very restrained in a triathlon swim. I'm definitely not giving my all. Just trying to stay within the pack, within a good effort zone, maximizing every stroke, and trying to set myself up for a strong bike/run. Should I be working harder? I don't  know . . .

Didn't get passed. Didn't pass anyone else. Felt strong and fluid throughout. And time is almost exactly what it was last year. Probably have some room to improve on this leg.

T1: 32 sec (52 in '09)

Estimated about 32 seconds, based on the discrepancy between my official bike time and the time on my bike computer. Did I mention that I did this race without so much as a watch?

Bike: 20 km in 36:40 (20.3 MPH, 40:30 in '09)

For the first year EVER, there was almost no wind at this race. Notice that I said almost.

The bike was where I did my best work, at this race. I was focused. I was intense. I was competitive. I was counting down the women as they passed me on the out-and-back. I was a hunter.

But I still feel like I should be faster.

T2: 57 sec (57 in '09)

Oh my goodness, what a mess this was. I was using my new Giro aero helmet for the first time at this race, and it's much tighter than the old one. So I had to put my sunglasses on over the helmet straps. Well when I went to take the helmet off, I forgot about the sunglasses, and ended up getting sunglasses, helmet, and hair all tangled together. I wasted a good 30 seconds standing there and swearing and trying to yank my hair out of my head, if that's what it took. My apologies to the parents of young children who were standing nearby; you may have to explain to your kiddos what some of those words mean.

Again, note that the T2 time is only an estimate.

Run: 5 km in 25:00 (8:02/mi, 25:48 in '09)

I don't think I've ever felt this good on a tri run. My legs felt good and strong and capable. It was like the hills weren't even there. No one passed me on the run, for once! There were a few muscles that felt like they might cramp, but they held off.

Alan (captain of the KSRVTC) was waiting for me about a half mile from the finish. He cheered me all the way in (as he does every year), and helped me to a strong finish. I came across the line feeling like I was going to toss my cookies, but knowing that I'd done my very best.

Total: 1:10:45 (1:15:42 in '09)

Fastest time I've ever posted at this race. 2nd F overall. 36th overall with the men. I'm pleased. But now I'm anxious to see how I'll do at a bigger race, one with a little more depth (especially in the female field). Although looking at the results from last year, I would still have placed 2nd overall with 1:10. And I've done it, now: I've been on the podium. The real podium. The overall podium. And I'm pretty happy about that.

Happy. But not content.

Race Report: Rock 'n' Roll Arizona 1/2 Marathon

2:02:21.

I was totally blown away by this result. I was hoping that I could do 2:06, which seemed realistic based on a 12-miler I did a couple weeks ago at a 9:40/mile pace. When I crossed the finish line and checked my watch (after downing a bottle of water and sitting back on my heels half-asleep for about 20 minutes), I couldn't believe it. I held a 9:20 pace for 2 hours straight?! I had no idea I could do that.

And you know, I keep trying to write more about it than this, but the truth is there isn't much to say. My training for this race was spot-on. I've been consistent and strong in all my runs. I mean, I've missed a run here or there, but it's been more hit than miss (and that might be the first time I can say that about run training for any race). I got in a solid 15-mile run at the beginning of last week, and I managed to hit some really good tempo runs. When the race began, all I really had to do was show up and do what I knew I could do.

I didn't set out to run a 2:02 pace, though. Based on what I had been doing in my training runs, I decided to set out with the 2:07 group and try to hang on. I figured I would feel a little too fresh in the early miles, then end up hanging on for dear life in the last 3-4 miles. The pace group was wonderful: perfectly paced, with an encouraging leader and a good vibe. I felt good at that pace, and had no trouble surging ahead to pass, or to sneak ahead for some water. My legs felt zippy and springy every time I needed to accelerate. I knew I had plenty of gas in my tank.

I think it was around mile 8 when I started pulling away. I felt good, and I kept edging ahead of my pace group. There was another girl (in a pink "iRunLikeAGirl" shirt) who was sneaking ahead, as well; she had told the pacer early on to pull her back if she started to get ahead, because she was afraid that she would fade in the last few miles. So when she started to really pull away, I decided to pace off of her instead. At any rate, I figured if we slowed down later I could pick the pace group back up and still finish around 2:06, 2:07.

There were a few times when I lost the iRunner at water stops, then caught her up later. At around mile 10, I thought she'd dropped me for good, as she was picking up speed. I started to go with her ("She's not faster than me! I can keep up!"), but decided it wasn't worth it to pursue. So instead I just held my own pace. I passed her around a mile and a half from the finish line, when she started walking.

I have to say, the last 2-3 miles were difficult; they were tough. There were a few very slight inclines (like in Kansas, they were slight but noticeable) that were enough to hurt, but not enough to really offer an excuse to slow the pace. During those last 20 minutes or so, I kept glancing down at the clock, wondering when the pain would be over. I repeated to myself, "Strong and steady and strong and steady" as a mantra. I focused all my attention on that point just between and behind my eyes (the Third Eye). And all of it paid off. I didn't slow down, or at least not much; my last mile split was 9:30.

I ran without an iPod, because I wasn't going to be like all those one-timers in their basketball shorts with their music-players strapped onto their biceps; I am a runner, and I don't need music to have a good result, thank you very much. It was nice to have bands right on the course, although I was running by them at such exceptional speeds, I'm afraid I didn't get to enjoy the music for very long (I'm just kidding, of course).

One of my favorite parts about the race is that the Super Official and Very Expensive Thank You Very Much race photos of me all came out very well. I'm not going to pay $80 for them, but I can tell you that I actually look like a runner, I am not making any funny faces, and my legs aren't doing that wonky displacement thing that you often see in race pictures.

I am so happy with this time. Like my 70.3 time, I'm right on the cusp of breaking through a Big Number Barrier--in this case, 2 hours. I can surely knock off a measly little 2:21; all I have to do is run 20 seconds faster per mile next time (and all I have to do to break 6 hours in a half ironman is not stop at the toilet in T2). I can do that. I'm still nowhere near my potential.

You know, the great thing about endurance sports is that the horizon is forever receding. Today I ran 2:02:21; tomorrow I'll start trying to run 1:59. And once I do that, I'll lower the bar a little more. In fact, the whole endurance sports process is very much like a very long, very painful game of Limbo.

Post Race: Rock 'n' Roll Arizona 1/2 Marathon

2:02:21.

A new PR.

By 10 minutes.

:-D!

Race Report: Clearwater Summer Scorcher 1 mile and 5k

My preparation for this race was not optimal.

It involved abnormally large quantities of beer (which for me is anything more than two drinks) and not much sleep.

Yesterday, I also (for some reason) felt it was a good idea to swim (which I haven't done in a week and a half), do a hard 30-minute spinning session, and take two different group classes--a yoga and a Pilates. Do not ask me why I thought this made sense. I was feeling fat and lazy and trying to overcompensate for it all. And besides (I told myself, when the sensible part of my brain tried to politely suggest that I am an idiot) swimming, spinning, yoga, and Pilates are all different things! They're not running! I'll be fine.

Clearwater is my home town, by the way. I spent my middle school and high school years in a district that routinely took top honors at the state cross country meet. I, of course, wasn't a part of that; the only sport I ever played in high school was football (my coaches asked if I had asthma, because I ran so slow and breathed so hard). So even though this was my first year at this race, I expected a fairly significant field of young, fast runners.

It's been a while since I've run a straight-up 5k; in fact, I can't remember the last time I've done one (have I ever done one?). The last mile I did was the Jingle Bell Run last year, and I did 7:49 there. So I was hoping to set PRs for both races, but obviously wasn't taking that goal too seriously, or I would have behaved differently yesterday.


The 1 mile started at 7:00 a.m. I was not feeling my best. I wasn't hung over, but my stomach was rumbling and squishing and generally making me uncomfortable. And I knew that I hadn't prepared adequately to run my best. Late nights, booze, and hard training do not make for fast legs. Add to that the fact that I haven't really been training (as a runner), and a PR does not look likely.

At the gun, I tried to go out fast but not too fast, and immediately wished I were somewhere else. The first thoughts in my mind were "I don't want to do a 5k later; I don't even want to do this." Fortunately, a mile is not very far. And each stretch we ran was only a couple blocks; having the run so broken up was helpful. I remember coming around the last turn onto the main road through town. I checked my watch, and it was just ticking over 6:00. I thought, "Holy cow! I could still come in under 7:00, I bet!" But I felt like I was running through Jell-o, and the last three blocks were longer than they looked. I crossed the line in 7:27, feeling awful, but happy with my new PR. I also got first place in my age group! A new trophy for the shrine!

During the mile, I felt generally miserable, and really didn't want to run the 5k. If it had been just me, I would have DNSed it and gone home. But my dad was running (just) the 5k, and there was no way I was going to bail on him. At about that point, I did decide to scrap the PR plans, and just run at my dad's pace, try to help him do really well.

We settled into a comfortable pace, although every time I looked at my heart rate monitor, I was surprised by the numbers that I saw. 166? Really? At a 10-minute-mile pace? About halfway through the 5k, I realized that the humidity was probably taking its toll on our bodies, jacking my heart rate way up and making me regret wearing a shirt. 

The last mile or so, my dad really started slowing down. The 5k course ends with a long (for Kansas) uphill, a similar downhill, and then one more block to the finish. We toiled up that hill, and at the top I said, "Hey Dad, you see that guy with his shorts bunched up between his fat little thighs? Well do you think you can catch him?" And with that, I took off down the hill, trying to get my pop to use his momentum to carry him past the fat dude. We did catch the fat guy, but had nothing left for a kick. I think that was another effect of the humidity.

We finished the 5k in 30:20. Afterwards, I sort of regretted not running as hard as I could. But on this day, in these conditions, I guess it was understandable (if not exactly commendable). I don't know what I might have done had I actually tried. But there will be other 5ks, there will be other PRs, there will be other opportunities to break 24:00. I can wait.

Even with the new PR, this race didn't feel particularly successful. My legs were dead in a way I haven't felt in a while--maybe since after my last half marathon. It's not so much that they hurt. And they were working well; my form was fine--probably better than usual. But my legs just didn't have the power and force I wanted to demand from them today. And the humidity was palpable. Only 65% or so, with a heat index around 80*. But it felt much worse than that, and I know that made a difference.

Still, 7:27 is the best I've ever run, and I'm starting to see that sub-7:00 performance within reach. On a good day, with proper training and preparation, I think I could run sub-7:00 . . . well, not exactly easily, but without going beyond the red-lining zone. And I'm sure I'll have that opportunity soon.