Training, a DFL and a PR
January 2, 2016 § Leave a comment
Half training is going surprisingly well. I’ve made peace with being slow, and I’ve even gotten a little faster with no real effort other than Coach’s prescribed consistency and patience.
I’ve also used Jeff Galloway’s run-walk-run method in my recent training. I’ll have to admit, at first I thought taking walk breaks during longer runs was what I shouldn’t be doing. And then I shaved 3 minutes off my two-mile run from one day to the next, even with 30-second walk breaks at half-mile intervals.
It wasn’t really too difficult to stay on track over Christmas, even though the group run the day after was cancelled. Some volunteers showed up in case anyone wanted to get the day’s run in with a group, but I couldn’t go because we left first thing for Justin’s parents’ house. I’d modified my schedule a little bit to make sure I didn’t miss too much on mileage.
A couple of weeks before Christmas, Lauren asked me if I wanted to do a 10K on New Year’s Day. It was basically a free race, but you could make a donation to a local school’s cross country program. I wasn’t sure about doing a 10K, but I finally said what the hell and registered.
The race was put on by a couple in the next town. Like, literally at their house. And the house was open for everyone, and it had like 5 or 6 bathrooms. And they made blackeyed peas and cornbread for everyone — runners and spectators — in keeping with our Southern tradition for good luck. But I loathe blackeyed peas, so maybe being in the race will count for me. It was really just amazing that this couple pulled this off with 300 or more runners, right in the middle of their neighborhood.
I knew with so few people running (and so many of them were ultra-elite runners) that I could very well finish last. DFL. Especially doing the 10K distance. I really didn’t want to be last. But! Someone has to be last. Even more than not being last, I didn’t want to give up. So I didn’t.
Yesterday morning as I got ready for the race, I gave myself two goals: Finish. And finish in 2 hours.
I did finish. And I had the sweepers with me for the last 2.5 miles. We talked and laughed and they gave me encouragement because I was only trailing behind another group by less than .1 mile or so. The route was out and back, so the hill we’d coasted down on the way out was a real bitch coming back in.
My parents had never come to see me run before, and I sent my mom a text at mile 4.22 to tell them I was dead last and not to come. But they were already headed that way. I ran past them up the hill toward the finish line yelling, “I am NOT going to puke!” and finished my first official 10K at 1:37:18. So, yeah, I killed my time goal at least!
Then we all went to my brother’s burrito restaurant and quickly replenished our calorie deficit.
We had a 3-mile group run this morning, but it pretty much had to be a recovery run for me. I ran with the volunteer I met the first week, Alisha, and met a new girl named Bridget. She told me right away that she didn’t think she was ready for 3 miles, so she was going to run one mile out and go back. I told her I was slower today because of yesterday, and we talked some about Jeff Galloway. She said she wonders sometimes if she should’ve signed up for the group training and for the half marathon. And I told her there are more than 100 people on a wait list hoping we will quit, so we just are not going to quit. And she ended up running most of the 3 miles with me and Alisha.
Tomorrow is a rest day. Sweet, blessed rest day. Sometimes I get antsy on rest days, but I am so looking forward to the break!
A long silence and a long run
March 29, 2015 § Leave a comment
Well! So much has happened since I last had a spare minute to write. Keeping up with my training here was my priority, but one that kept being shuffled to the bottom of the deck.
I just checked the date of my previous entry: March 5. My longtime friend’s husband died suddenly that day. I was offered a job — the one with the second interview I wrote about — on March 11. I had to pass a pre-employment drug screen, which I did first thing the next day. That weekend, March 13, I had to go out of town for my friend’s husband’s funeral. I couldn’t start my job until the drug-test results were back, so I got back from Little Rock on Sunday evening.
That Monday morning, I was in the middle of what I hoped would be a 5.5-mile run when I got a call from the office to say, of course, my drug test was good and I could start work the following morning. HOWEVER. They would need me to go to the Little Rock office for training Wednesday morning. So I worked all day March 17 and drove back to Little Rock that night. I was there Wednesday and Thursday. And I had to be back in our local office Friday morning. It was a whirlwind to say the least.
During all of that, my running suffered. I didn’t want to get too far off track, so I joined a gym close to the office. I ran every day during lunch last week, only taking Friday off.
Friday was packet pickup for the half marathon. Because I was doing the relay, I really only had about 6.5 miles to do. But I was doing the first leg and I didn’t want to be so slow that my teammate didn’t have time to finish. But you can only worry about it so much.
I had to be in the corral by 6:45, so Justin dropped me off around 6:20 yesterday morning, about two blocks away from the start line. I was worried about being there early and needing to pee a thousand times, so I didn’t drink more than a swallow before we left the house. Don’t be like me, friends. Justin had packed some drinks for me (what a guy!), so I was able to get a swig of Powerade before he dropped me off. I ended up in line at the porta potty anyway.
Then it was time to line up — I went as far to the back as I could. The sun wasn’t really up yet and it was drizzling. The gun went off at exactly 7 a.m. and we took off. The route went down a hill and up a hill before turning right, and when I was going downhill and saw the other runners — an absolute sea of them — I started crying.
Not even six months ago, I showed up for my first training run for the 5k. We ran two minutes that night. Two minutes, that’s all. My heart rate shot up to 210, I got a side stitch, and it still ranks as #1 on my list of Worst Runs Ever. Six months ago, running two minutes was a long time and it was difficult. And yet there I was yesterday, right in the middle of a half marathon.
Before the race started, I posted a picture of the start line on Facebook. “It’s kind of amazing I made it this far.”
I made it to the start line of a half marathon. The rest would be a piece of cake.
I’d told Lauren I was shooting for 6.5 miles in 95 minutes. I could see Lauren and Justin waiting for me at the relay exchange when I was still about a quarter-mile away. We all started cheering. Lauren came out to cross my finish line with me, which was her starting line, and she was off. I finished in 99 minutes. Slow, maybe. But definitely happy.
I knew I would need to do a little bit of a recovery run today, but I was so sore I couldn’t even imagine it. I finally just made myself go outside and run a little. And no wonder a recovery run is a thing! I walked mostly, but it really helped ease some of that stiffness, especially in my glutes.
So the next race is a 5k and the one after that is a 2-mile run. It’s funny how doable and EASY that seems now.
Valentine race
February 15, 2015 § Leave a comment
Making the loop at Crystal Bridges
I had my Valentine race yesterday. I almost talked myself out of it because (TMI alert) getting older has been a total misery for my uterus. I woke up around 4 yesterday morning to deal with a catastrophic period and I thought there was no way I could go to the race. But I was still awake at 6, and the race was at 7:30. So I went. And, as usual, I was glad I did.
I went with Lauren and her two kids. The thing about racing at my age is that the age group is very competitive. Women my age are done with kids — some of their kids are probably even grown. Women my age are battling middle-age weight gain and they’re realizing how much their “old” bodies can do. And I’m fine with showing up for a race knowing I’m not taking home a medal. It’s always just a good experience. It’s fun to see everyone and to hear all the cheering. I feel good about how much I ran yesterday, and I feel good about the walking I did, too. And I’m proud of my buddy Oliver, who was such a motivator and inspiration to me when I first started running in October. He’s 4 now and I hope he will not find himself in his late 30s, out of shape and miserable. I hope he will always love to run and to be part of that community. He’s already well known with a lot of runners in town and his parents are so great to encourage him without forcing him into it.
I’m glad I got to race with him yesterday, and I hope we will race together often. I also know, though, that it won’t be long before he is leaving me in the dust. I hope he will. I can always bring up the rear if he’ll be waiting at the finish line!
Of course, I also wouldn’t be where I am without other volunteers I met through the training program. I saw James yesterday as I pushed toward the finish line. He stopped to shake my hand and congratulate me for continuing. I will look forward to seeing him out there at races, too.
And none of us would have the fantastic community of runners that we have if it weren’t for our coach and biggest cheerleader of runners of all ages, shapes, sizes, abilities, and goals. Mike Rush and his whole family is devoted to runners in our area. I can’t even begin to imagine how much goes into these races, long before they happen and long after we’re at home laying on the couch. If you even think you might want to run, even if you’re pretty sure you’ll hate it and you just want to see if you’re right, see Mike. No matter what shape you’re in, he sees you as a runner. You’re an athlete. You can run to your mailbox and he thinks you’re a beast for it. Best of all, he will do anything he can to make sure you’re not out there in the middle of the course thinking you hate running and you’ll never do it again. Because just as soon as you start to have those thoughts, you will hear a madman hollering and then you will see Mike running toward you in a ridiculous costume — boxer shorts and angel wings? — in 30-degree weather. And he will cheer for you. You specifically. And you’ll pull yourself out of that fog of hating running and you’ll go farther and faster than you ever have.
My running coach in his Cupid getup at the race on Saturday
Afterward
December 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
Today is the first Wednesday since Oct. 1 that I won’t be going to a group run with my coach.
I ran/walked my 5K on Saturday. It was so great to see everyone I met along the way during training. But even greater was coming into the finish line and hearing someone from my group shout, “Here comes Meghan!” and everyone went nutty with cheering. I crossed the line and, as I was waiting to have my timing chip cut off, I saw the little boy from the first weeks of training coming to high-five me. It was so absolutely amazing.
I talked to his mom on down at the end of the corral. She is having a baby in a few weeks, but she’d started having some contractions about a month ago and Coach benched her from training sessions. It was still so great to see them a the race. I mean, just … amazeballs.
I was a long time in getting to the finish line, so there were plenty from the group there to congratulate and talk about the race with as we waited for everyone else to finish. We all went wild any time someone from the group came toward the finish line. Everyone hugged and high-fived and hollered.
But during the race, I had a moment when I was alone. Lots of moments, actually, as I am pretty much a middle-pack runner. So I started walking. I could see people way up ahead of me, but I couldn’t see anyone behind me. I try not to look behind too much because I can’t really worry about the distance I’ve already put in. But I started walking and having crazy thoughts that I shouldn’t have done this race, I’m not ready, I’m still not a runner … And let me tell you how much that DOES NOT help.
Then I started telling myself that I was my only competition. I wasn’t going to win. I didn’t even want to. I wanted to race because it was fun, challenging, and because I couldn’t have done it a few months ago.
I was still walking when I heard a distinctive loud holler.
My coach LOVES running. And he assumes that you love it, too. Ice, dark, sweltering heat? Go for a run! And that’s part of what makes him such an inspiration and a wonderful motivator. He’s also quite a character. He was running that day in a full Santa Claus suit with a stuffed belly and the white hair and everything. He loves nothing more than passing people right at the finish line and even taught us to take huge comical strides if we needed to get our timing chips across the mat ahead of another runner. But he’s good-natured and a good sport. Or maybe I’m just saying that because I know I will never be able to cross a finish line when he does.
So I was walking along and I heard a whoop. And I said, “Well shit.” I knew it was my coach and if he saw me walking, I’d never live it down. He was making the loop to finish up his race, but that didn’t stop him from shouting to me that I was doing great and to keep going!
After the race, my husband said he was watching my coach at the finish line. He ran up behind some other runners shouting, “I’m gonna get you! I’m gonna get you!”
When my coach and his wife finished (I think she finished before he did, yay girls!) they went back out to find us. Which meant I couldn’t be seen out there on the course just strolling along. They both ran by and told me what a great job I was doing (which didn’t feel like all that great a job to me, honestly, but I loved hearing it from them) and told me I was almost done.
My husband got a photo of Coach keeping runners motivated.
And eventually, I was done. It took a little longer than my turkey trot. I think my official time was 46:32. But when I checked my GPS watch at home afterward, the turkey trot was 2.9 miles and the Frosty was 3.19. Best of all, though, was torching 698 calories in that amount of time. I can really get behind that.
Then it was all over. I hugged as many people from my group as I could find after the race. We’ll see each other at other races, but we may not ever train together again.
I really had a hard time with that. I really felt sad. Truly sad. It seemed like I’d worked so hard with these people to get to that race and then it was over just like that. Yes, I did 99% of my training on my own, but without my coach and the other runners I met, I would have given up.
But they’re also the reason I feel like I can’t give up now. I didn’t get into the half-marathon training with a lot of the other people I met, so I’ll be running solo now. If I want to see my running-group friends at other races, I’ll have to keep running so I can do those races.
Last Place Runner 