Little Legs Runners

Becci and I ran the March Madness Half Marathon in Cary on Monday. It was a perfect weekend - just over 30 degrees at the start, in the 40’s during the race, and gloriously sunny - so we feel like we won big time, considering March weather can be such a gamble!

We both had a terrific race. About 7 miles into the race I was feeling fantastic, so Becci encouraged me to kick out ahead. Halfway through I was on pace to run a 2:03, but I had some more gas in the tank so I thought I could whittle that down a bit.

Despite some monstrous hills, the most cruel of which at the end was more than a quarter mile long in its steep rise, I kept pushing the pace. Around mile 11 I realized I could clock 2:00. I poured it on for the last half mile and came in at 2:00:00 exactly. (Actually, my Garmin watch captured 13.18 miles in 2:00:00 so you do the math).

Awesome race, awesome day, awesome course. And the speedwork is really working. Best part of the day besides meeting my goal? The chocolate chip-walnut-sea salt cookies I had made Saturday and wolfed down sitting in the sunshine outside the car, post-race.

Next race is May 3, the Great Western Half.

In preparation for the March Madness Half Marathon in Cary, Becci and I have been logging some hilly miles, mostly on treadmills, and for me in Portland and in Wisconsin. Milder weather and minimal snow gave us a window to get out to Cary and run some double-digits on the course we’ll actually race.

Here is the route we ran:

It was a good run, although the wind coming from the north was fierce (we ran the route clockwise, as indicated). The other unpleasant part was all the dogs running loose in the yards. Three times we had to stop and walk as I was deathly afraid of being eaten.

Oh - and I did sign up for Chicago. Both of us did, in fact.

Sign up for the 2009 Chicago Marathon opens in less than a week. What to do, what to do?

I have been thinking about signing up at least since the day after the race this year. Two, perhaps three, of my nearest and dearest may have recalled some delusional yelling the day of the race (maybe even at the finish line) suggesting that I was never, ever, ever going to run a marathon again. Those dearly beloved readers of this blog should have recognized at the time that a rare, perhaps once-in-a-lifetime occurrence had taken place. Instead of my brain and larynx and mouth doing the talking, my quadriceps muscles and IT band had actually activated their long-dormant vocal capabilities to protest the idea that I would ever subject them to this activity again.

They’ve been mostly silent since. Thankfully.

I’ve never been quite as aware of the Cartesian mind-brain divide as when I found myself trapped in the last, hot, cement miles of both 2008 marathons. Yet, the feeling of achievement and - yes - relief at the end of both races made it very worth it.

I’m not usually a waffler. As my nearest and dearest again can tell you, usually I proceed through decisions like a bull through the nearest matador. Often I can walk into a restaurant and decide what to order in under 20 seconds. Yet I’m deliberating here and have been for about 5 weeks. I need your help.

I present my list of pros and cons.

Pros

1. The [should everything go relatively well] feeling of accomplishment. In October this lasted for ten days. That is nothing to sniff at.
2. Bragging rights.
3. Excuses rights: oh, honey, there is no way I can unload the dishwasher. My calves are just burning after that 18 miler. By the way, can you make me some pancakes? And some bacon?
4. The appetite. Nothing beats how food and beer tastes after double digit miles.
5. The camaraderie. Even though normally I cannot stand being in crowds, and people can sorely test my patience, for some reason I really like the feeling of being in a huge crowd of people doing the same thing.
6. The motivation. Having this huge looming deadline works really well for me.
7. The self-discovery. Each time, I have learned something about motivation, grit, what makes the mind tick, what works for me, what doesn’t.
8. The overachiever in me loves the idea of besting my Chicago time.
9. I have been working really hard. I should run a faster time.
10. Third time’s the charm, right?

Cons

1. The pressure. Once I sign up, I’m going to do it.
2. The schedule. Sticking to it costs some of the great flexibility I’ve enjoyed this fall and winter.
3. The risk. I need to be careful to arrive at the starting line healthy.
4. The long runs. Becci doesn’t want to do the marathon. That means a lot of solo miles. And I love the feeling of achievement but don’t love the long, long, long miles each week.
5. GU. Puke.
6. The chafing. Each time I think I have learned, something new gets chafed. Worst yet? Right armpit, during marathon. Couldn’t close my arm properly for 4 days.
7. 125 bones. That’s a solid chunk of cash.
8. The burning of my quads from roughly 18 miles to the end. Although this, I must say, is also a motivator. What can I do to reduce this?

I could come up with a couple of more reasons to get to 10 total, but they’re stupid. Like blisters. Like running clothes stink a lot more in the summer. But those are whiny excuses.

So…I need your help. Before Sunday, tell me why I should or shouldn’t sign up for Chicago 2009.

Plenty o’images like this flooded us yesterday. The coldest day since February 1996 seized Chicago and it hasn’t let us go yet. On Wednesday night, after several inches of new snow had arrived, the temperature plunged from 10 degrees to -7. The highest the temperature ever got was -1 yesterday, and not anywhere near me.

This morning it was -17 at 7:40 am when I left for work. After yesterday’s brutal reminder of how cruel winter is, I busted out the full Wisconsin today: 4 layers on the bottom, including windproof snow pants, and warmest sweater I own + warm puffer coat + 2 scarves + creepy Hannibal Lecter face mask + ear warmers + 2 pairs wool socks + Grabbers toe warmers in boots + warm wool hat + gloves + mittens “calibrated” for -40.

And this was just to get to work. Needless to say, this week I have been treadmilled, as this week’s weather violated my 0 degrees rule. And my miles have taken a hit. It looks like somewhere rural and remote on our street, with a couple of inches of ugly snowpack and ice, and huge snowdrifts at driveways. In short, it looks like last winter in Madison.

I thought we had escaped that when we moved SOUTH. Apparently we did not go far SOUTH enough.

I am hoping to get outside tomorrow. One outside run this week does not a happy Little Legs make.

That one outside run was a good one, though. And here is what I said when I came back home: “Wow. I love winter running. I mean, it’s beautiful, you get to be outside when most people aren’t, and once you’re going, it’s like you’re your own little furnace. It’s almost better than summer running!”

To which I got a slitty-eye, “you’re nuts woman” nonverbal reply. And then got smacked in the head by Mother Nature this week. So I’m going to keep my mouth shut for the duration, which at this rate, should be another 12-15 weeks or so. Right? I mean, spring HAS to come sometime…right?

Since I last posted, it has been a while. During that while the temperature has steadily dropped. Last Sunday when I ran it was 7 degrees. At one point I thought I had lost my chin and almost sent out a search party for it.

This morning it was 4 degrees when I left the house to meet Becci. But I was prepared in craftily created multiple layers. And the best thing of all was my new friend, the Grabbers hand warmers.

Ben got me a new pair of running gloves as an early Christmas present. They are actually glittens: glove-mittens with a little pocket in the mitten flap for a hand warmer. I got the Grabber Warmers at the Jewel. They heat up almost instantly when exposed to air. And instantly is ideal, especially when I am headed out at 5:30 am and desperately want to minimize preparation in an attempt to maximize sleep.

So I tore these babies open, stuffed them in the mitten flap, and headed out for 4 1/2 this morning. I remember a lot of runs last winter when I would have to stop and put my hands in other, warmer places since they would be partially numb or tingling along the wrist. With the Grabbers I’m set. In fact, I was almost TOO warm this morning with all my layers, my creepy Hannibal Lecter face mask, and the Grabbers.

Have I just been under a rock this whole time? Or do other runners not know about Grabbers? If you don’t know about them, consider this post to be my Christmas present to you. Get yourself some Grabbers.

This morning - if pitch black can count as morning - it was 27 degrees out. The frost was not on my pumpkin but it was definitely on my car. I know that in 3 months, 27 degrees will be considered a field day, but for now it felt like a slap on my sleep crusted little face.

The last long weeks of training for the marathon were a pretty solitary endeavor: no iPod, no running buddies, just me and the end of summer. But since the marathon things have picked up socially for me as a runner. Ben has now been out twice with me and is making noise about going again. Don and I ran this past Saturday morning in Madison, circling Monona Bay. And this morning, I had my first running “date” with my yoga instructor. She lives just 3 streets away and we are going to try to keep each other motivated to run outside this winter. We run about the same pace, and let me tell you, I leapt out of bed knowing that someone was going to be waiting for me on a cold street corner.

It’s nice to have running buddies again!

Next week I am looking forward to running down Highland to cast my vote for president at South Middle School. Go Obama!

I ran the Chicago Marathon this past Sunday. It was a terrific experience (especially now that I am viewing the race through rose colored glasses and the soreness is gone).

6:45 am Sunday: Jill, Andy, and I pose for the “before” shot.

It was hot, this I will not deny. And my watch malfunctioned a little bit, but I dialed into my pace, hitting mile after mile right at 9:55 or 10:00. I felt a little icky in the first couple of miles from nerves. At miles 6-8 I started feeling a little sore in my left hip, but that went away. By mile 11 I was happily cruising along in a little bubble of exhilaration. This mild euphoria lasted until around mile 19, when I started to feel the effects of the heat and my legs got a bit sore. From 19 to the end I stopped every 2 miles to spray with Salonpas (a big help) and I stopped at every aid station along the course to drink. It was much more fluid than I had planned on drinking, but it was very hot and I wanted to take necessary precautions.

Twelve miles in I am enjoying the race.

I finished in 4:32. I estimate I walked less than 5 minutes of the entire race - enough to spray, give my quads and hip flexors a little break, and drink (rather than slosh myself with) Gatorade. I was crabby and tired at the end, but I am so relieved that this went better than L.A. I am still riding that high 3 days later. I was nervous up until mile 17 that things would crash like L.A., but after I was still running past 18 miles I knew I would better my time.

I think the heat cost me 10 mins. Right up until the 30K mark I was on pace to run 4:22.

I can’t wait to do another, and to spend some serious effort now getting faster and stronger. I think I’ll wait another year and do Chicago again, and do some half marathons and shorter distances in the meantime to buy me the space for some speedwork.

Thanks to all my spectators, especially Ben (who was at miles 3, 12, 21, and 25), and to all of those who listened to my incessant marathon chatter for the last 7+ months, and who encouraged me along the way.

Andy’s triumphant fist punch underscores his joy in running the marathon.

Getting used to running without my iPod has meant that I’m running in a more extroverted way. This morning, for example, I ran over several streets’ worth of fallen locust tree leaves, and they stuck to my shoes and then fluttered behind me, making soft rustles as they scattered. That is a sound I never would have heard with the iPod on.

Tuesdays in this neighborhood are garbage days, and today was no exception. It was pungent this morning, and then near the park a skunk had “gone off.” North near my turnaround, someone was cooking bacon and that most delicious of smells was wafting out into the street.

I’ve been reading Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It’s a terrific memoir of a novelist’s running career, and great food for thought going into the marathon. He talks about runner’s blues, about how tough a marathon is after 22 miles, about his commitment to running and how he still waffles on whether or not to go until he’s lacing up his shoes and heading out the door. That helps me feel better about preferring to be in bed on some of these early moments - at least until I’m a mile in.

Ah, the sweet feeling of crossing the line into the land of the taper!

This morning I ran my last long pre-Chicago Marathon run. And I did all the things I’m going to do on marathon day:

I stuck to my plan for gels, Gatorade, and water.
I ran without my iPod.
I ran a consistent, careful pace.
I completely focused on how I felt, how fast I was going, and on my form.
I Body-Glided until I felt like Andy does: a slug leaving a slime trail.

And, the result was that I felt great from beginning to end. My legs started to hurt a little bit around mile 13 but the hurt never increased past a slight ache. Initially, I was concerned that I was going to really be bored without my iPod, but I’ve found in the last couple of weeks that I’m running better without the distraction of music or Audiobooks. I focus on myself, and I find that this amazing little cocoon of meditation envelops me. I think about things; I look at the scenery; I think about more random things; I think about my next meal; I reflect on that I’m happy that I’m running. And in the end, I feel less destroyed.

With two super long (20 or 20+) runs under my belt, I feel a lot more confident going into my second marathon. I know what’s waiting out there for me. I know that the race is going to require persistence, confidence, and endurance. It’s also going to require focus. The way I felt today, I’m ready for this challenge.

Also, I’ve been reading Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, and it’s been a real help to me so far (I’m not that far into it yet, but I keep nodding in recognition). Basically, the biggest takeaway has been his saying that “pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.” He suggests that every runner has a mantra somewhere inside, and I think I am finding mine: persistence. If I keep saying it to myself, I stop suffering (as much).

And now I’m going to celebrate the start of my taper.

With a new full time job, a husband working seriously long hours, and friends in town for visits, I’ve definitely been remiss in posting.

Training is going relatively well. I ran a fluid, amazing 18 on Labor Day weekend. At 9:50 pace I felt strong, relaxed, and in control. I felt only a shadow of soreness the next morning and even felt good enough to run.

The next Saturday I went out for what was to be 20 but ended up being 21.5. I ran in Madison with Andy, and he’s fast so despite going slow for me the pace was pushing it at 9:35 for most of the first 13-14 miles. I had forgotten that if you run the Lake Monona route counterclockwise you encounter those rolling hills on Waunona Way early and they are tiring! Andy thought that at 16 miles he would strike out on his own, and believe me, I was counting down the miles from 13-16 so that I could find some relief.

Final pace ended up being around 10:06 by the time I finished. A lesson to myself with 5 weeks to go. Don’t push.

I have one more long run on the calendar Sept. 20 and then am going to taper. I’ve learned that my little legs are inherently lazy, and that they love to rest. Therefore, I’m going to try a more aggressive taper than I did for LA because I have a sneaking suspicion I am going to feel much better on race day if I do. Also not spending Saturday on a plane should help. Also eating more should help. Also not being greedy and thinking I could bang out a 4:15 my first time out of the gate should help.

But I have two trains of thought going at this point. The first is, how can I not feel sensitive about or like a failure for not being a very fast runner? It’s good to have aspirations of being faster, but now is not the time to try to put those into place.

Secondly: I am going to obey the rules and run without my iPod. I don’t want to be disqualified. In preparation, I’m going to run this last month without the iPod for the most part to get ready. But I’m concerned about being alone with my mind for the tough part of the race (which I suspect will be the last 6-8 miles) with no music as distraction.

What has worked for other runners out there in terms of positive self-talk in those final miles? Also, how can I not create unrealistic expectations for myself that make the race harder? I had this crazy notion in LA that somehow I would not suffer. What I’ve learned is that suffering is part of the marathon experience. I need to find some more grit.

What has worked for you?