Tuesday, March 24, 2015

4-5 seconds from wildin'

 Another Shamrock weekend is in the books, along with my fourth half marathon.  It's two days after the race, and while my soreness melts away, the feelings of accomplishment and disbelief still linger.  I'll start with the Operation Smile Final Mile recap before dissecting my own race performance for you.

This year was Brynn's third appearance in the Final Mile, and I wasn't quite sure what to expect from her.  What a difference a year has made in her "training" (their school holds practices twice a week so the kids can walk/run laps to log 25 miles before race day, hence the race being the final mile of a "marathon").  I enjoy helping out and encouraging the kids at their practices, and in years past, I've had to sort of crack the whip on Brynn to get her to stay on task (I didn't give up an extra hour of kid-free time to go to school and watch her chat with her friends!).  This year, however, she really racked up the miles and went into race day with 32 miles under her belt instead of 25.  

Since she's Fancy like her mom, she added her own shamrocks after she finished the 25 given on the mileage tracker.

Camryn claimed me as her running buddy for the race, leaving Brynn to run with Ryan.  They were a few feet ahead of us in the corral at the start, and once the horn went off, I didn't see them again until the reunion area on the beach.  I'm bummed I didn't get to watch her race in person, but at least her trademark game face was caught by the photographers from marathonfoto.com:

The tongue sticking out is a new addition to Brynn's game face.

Ryan didn't wear his watch for this race, so I had to painstakingly wait until results were posted to see how Brynn did.  Her time to beat (from October's Monster Mile) was 9:38, and she rocked this Final Mile coming in at 8:06!  Given a little less congestion on the course, I know she could've broken 8 minutes.  No pressure from me, but I'm hoping she'll be up for another 1 miler sometime this spring.

This year was Camryn's first time doing the Final Mile.  She also ran the Monster Mile in October, making her race debut at 12:10.  This little one also worked her little tail off at practices, logging about 2 miles each day.  It came down to the wire, but she got every inch of those 25 miles logged before race day.  I had the pleasure of running with her, and she was all smiles as well:

In the starting corral

After the horn went off, we tightly held hands to keep my little nugget from being trampled by the hundreds of kids who followed.  We kept a steady pace, and she only slowed twice to try to get rid of the stitch in her side.  Once we got to the flags marking the home stretch, she really turned it on until she crossed the finish line.


I remembered to wear my watch and clocked her at 11:41...30 seconds faster than what she did in October with two walk breaks and major congestion on the course.  Rock star.  

The girls' elation came to an abrupt end when they realized there weren't any post-race snacks like there have always been in the past, but I managed to get them to smile for a picture before we headed home:


They worked hard all winter to earn those medals this weekend, and I can only hope they continue to want to participate in this incredible sport with us in the future.

On to the half marathon recap...

Remember my goals?
A) 1:39:xx - dream goal where all the stars align and I have a ridiculous day
B) PR (1:42:42)
C) Put forth a solid effort, finish strong and healthy

 I woke up on race day with the usual nervous tummy.  No matter how much I try to convince myself I'm ready for a race and everything will be fine, I feel nauseous from the moment I wake up until the gun goes off.*

*This is the norm for all major events in my life...I actually puked on my wedding day.  

I made my coffee but didn't drink it, and had to force feed myself all but that last corner of my toast with peanut butter, banana, and honey.  I slowly sipped water throughout the car ride to the oceanfront and listened to music to try to calm my nerves.  We found parking with plenty of time left before the start, so Ryan and I sat in the car for a few minutes before getting out to warm up.  Zooming up and parking right in front of us was my friend Teresa, and her calm energy was exactly what I needed to chill out.  We found a great spot to warm up (and pee...and pee some more) before the race, and soon it was off to dry bag check and the starting line.  

Just like that, we were off and running.  I had a plan:

1) Try not to get caught up in the frenzy of the start...make the first couple of miles a tad over pace.
2) Be comfortably at pace by the time we make the turn from Atlantic to Shore Drive.  We would be sheltered from the wind on Shore Drive, and I needed to be cruising before turning into the fierce winds on Fort Story.
3) Maintain effort into the wind throughout Fort Story.  Remember we leave the Fort eventually and the wind will be at our back.
4) Bring it home along Atlantic...feed off the crowd's energy and cheers and leave it all on the course.  

Here's how it went down:
1) I was 10 seconds over pace for the first mile and 5 over for the second.  Exactly where I wanted to be.
2) By mile 4, I was dead on pace.  I maintained that through mile 6 as we turned into Fort Story.
3) Somehow I slowed down just a bit too much in Fort Story.  There was no headwind like we were expecting, so I'm not really sure how I got so far off pace.  By mile 7, my legs were feeling a little heavy, but it wasn't terrible and I knew my GU would be kicking in before long.  I focused on sticking with the girl in the purple shirt who had been either right behind or right in front of me from the start (more on her later).
4) Atlantic Avenue is the greatest sight for sore eyes...and ears.  You know the end is near, and the silence of the Fort is washed away by the thumping of the music coming from the DJ and the cowbells and cheers coming from the North End's faithful spectators.  

I knew I was off pace by more than I wanted to be at that point, so I tried to speed up in small increments so I wouldn't crash and burn.  For whatever reason, mile 11 to 12 seemed to last an eternity, but once I hit 12, I knew I had to give it my all.  Little by little, I surged.  I caught up to the girl in the purple shirt, who had been leading me for several miles by the time we turned at the Cavalier.  All along, I recognized her as the girl I was neck and neck with during the Wicked 10k in October...and sure enough, here we were again, pushing each other to the finish.  When we were shoulder to shoulder, I said, "We got this...let's go!"  She replied with a "You too" and we ran together for a few strides.  

By the time we hit the boardwalk, I knew I had to dig if I was going to make it under 1:40.  Purple shirt girl said "Get it, girl!" and off I went.  The finish seemed sooooo far away, and I tried to time my kick just right.  I never looked at my watch after the marker for mile 12...I knew it would take everything I had so I didn't see the point in wasting time and energy by looking.  I kicked.  And then I kicked again.  I don't know whose legs I was running on at the end because they certainly didn't feel like mine...my stride opened up and I felt myself digging with my whole body.  I crossed the finish line and came to a stop (and a wobble).  I looked at my watch.

1:40:06.

Awww COME ON!!!  Preliminary results posted 1:40:05, followed by official results of 1:40:04.9.  Hence the title of this post, "4-5 seconds from wildin'" (I blame Kanye). Four seconds stood between me and that dream goal, and it's been driving me nuts ever since.  I would love to say I couldn't have given it any more than I did, but anyone could give a half second more each mile, right?  Ahhh, the 20/20 vision that is hindsight.  But really though, I've been smiling despite the frustration of being so freaking close because how could I not?  I worked hard for 16 weeks of training during a crappy winter, managed to stay healthy, and PRd by almost 2:40.  I stuck with my race strategy and had a strong finish, and was greeted by my husband who killed his race as well.  And let's not discount a goal I set for myself this time last year...the one about becoming more social with my running.  Ryan and I spent the two hours after the race drinking beer, chatting, and smiling with several of the friends I've made this year through running.  These people totally get it, and we celebrate each other's highs and curse the lows together.  Like I saw on a t-shirt last night, "Your vibe attracts your tribe."  I'm really enjoying this little tribe I've got going on right now.  

A few race pics for your enjoyment (or pics of race pics, as I'm too cheap to pay out the nose for them!):


 The silent march through Fort Story

Excited to be out of the Fort and getting some crowd support from Christian

Digging deep (and slicing like a ninja?) 

Soooooo close...

But so happy!

 Taking a crack at what's rightfully mine

Thankful to have found an incredible friend in Kristy from Breath of Sunshine 

And icing on the Shamrock cake...running (haha) into Laurie in the beer tent!  She was an athletic trainer and one of my professors at Ithaca College and she just happened to be here running the half as well.  Just a couple of Bombers, having a post race beer some 500 miles from campus.  Mind = blown!

So now I'm trying to figure out what to put on my race schedule this spring, aside from the half in Ithaca in June.  A few jumped out at me already, so I just need to decide and commit.  I'll enjoy an easy week running-wise, but I look forward to getting back out there and striving for more.  Thanks to all of you who offered support, encouragement, and cheers through this year's Shamrock journey!





Monday, March 9, 2015

Won't back down

 Here we are, less than two weeks away from the Shamrock Half Marathon, and I'm finally starting to feel like something has clicked.  And all it took was one little word.  

Tentative.

I've had the good fortune and the pleasure of getting in a few runs this training cycle with one of the area's best runners.  Before that, we'd talked shop til we were blue in the face, but it's simply not the same as having someone actually run with you.  She paced me through a couple of tough tempo runs where the wind was like a big brother's hand on your forehead, keeping you in place no matter how hard you tried to push forward and give him hell.  Wanting to prove I'm worthy of her company on a run, I know I pushed harder than I would have if I had been solo, which can only translate into strength deposited into the training bank to be withdrawn on race day.   I was able to pick her brain about bad race habits of mine  (during the warm up and cool down, of course, as I was struggling for breath to keep up with her easy stride during the tempo portion of those runs), and she gave me little pointers about good running form and visual cues to remember when things get tough.  And while she's encouraging when I'm being hard on myself (usually when I'm struggling to keep the pace outlined in my training plan), there's little sugar coating involved.  Which brings me back to that word.

Tentative.

Talk about an aha moment when you need one.  I think earlier in this training cycle, I had myself convinced I was taking this on with a laid back approach to training.  But in stark contrast, I set an ambitious goal for myself.  With each run, I found myself jumping back and forth between "This could be possible" and "Yeah, that's not a realistic goal for this race, ya big dummy."  And then I read (and re-read and re-read) my friend's text.

You're being tentative.

Tentative.  As in uncertain.  Obviously.  But also as in holding back.  Playing it safe.  That mentality was fine in the beginning of the fall race season when I was just starting to feel like myself again after the IT band debacle.  But in the past three-plus months of training, my body has sent up no red flags to tell me to hold back.  To play it safe.  So why was I still doing those things?  Why hold back when I feel strong, healthy, and have a goal that's maybe even a little within reach if I dig deep?

So tentative got tossed and tenacious has taken its place.  I've attacked every workout for the past two weeks, and I'm relearning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.  I realize that 1:39:xx is still a tall order and will require all the stars to align on race day, but I'm no longer scared to try.  My B goal is a PR, which after Saturday's 12 miler (on cold, tired legs and sans pre-run coffee and mid-run GU) seems completely within reach.  My C goal is to put forth a solid effort and let the chips fall where they may.  But if you believe in magic...

"Magic 8 Ball, will I run a sub-1:40 at Shamrock this year?"


Tom Petty I Won't Back Down