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June 25, 2007

Speed: Where Art Thou?

I vaguely recall hearing a popular running line (in reference to what, I cannot remember): "no need for speed." Maybe it was referring to the Galloway walk-a-marathon program, but I need some speed. I was born with one fast-twitch muscle fiber that has now been hijacked by the slow-twicthers . . . people actually laugh at me when I try to run fast. In fact, on Wednesday I tweaked my hamstring trying - key word is trying - to run fast. I completely over-strided and felt like an idiot.

I have no speed. Zip. Zilch. My lack of speed killed me in a 10K on Saturday. My legs have bounced back extremely fast from the half, but I also rested on Monday and Tuesday, ran 6 on Wednesday, 10.5 on Thursday, 2 on Friday, raced on Saturday, and 10.5 on Sunday. But back to my lack of speed: so H. and I decided that I would race the next 2 weekends and take advantage of the fitness I gained going into the half. It's nice to reap the rewards and drown out some of my soft PRs and wash them completely from my PR record book :)

Our goal plan was to go out at 6:00, hit 2 in 12:10, roll the next four in 6:15 and then speed home in 6:00 the final .2. Sounds totally doable. The result would have been 38:17. What did I do? I went out in 6:10, but by mile 2, I discovered that I had, indeed, gone out in 6:00. I passed 2 in 11:57 so right away I knew the markers were off. I passed three in 18 something, 4 in 24:40, 5 in 31:05, 6 in 37 something and came home in 38:45. Something happened around mile 4. Wait! I know what it was: I completely zoned out and fell into half marathon pace.

Logistically, the race was a little challenging because we ran it on a crowded lakefront path and I spent most of miles 3-6 passing 5K runners and marathon training groups. I also took a wrong turn before mile 6 and had to back-track. That was worth a small chunk of change. BUT, no excuses. Somewhere in the race, I decided it was a lovely idea to take a nap.

I am pretty sure that my half marathon pace and my 10K pace should be more than 8 seconds apart per mile . . . but I'm not complaining. 38:45 wipes out my old PR . . . but it also leaves me hungry. When I finished the race, my dad called me and he asked me how I was feeling. My answer: "I didn't run hard enough."

I need to learn to push the limit even more and dip into the unknown territory of the uncomfortable. There's a long road ahead to October . . . so I have some time to get acquainted with "uncomfortable" (which suddenly became a noun).

I am racing an 8K next weekend and then we are shutting it down until the Chicago Distance Classic Half Marathon in August. Real training starts Monday :)

Posted by bridget at 5:58 PM | Comments (2)

June 18, 2007

Grandma's race recap

I'm not exactly sure where to start, so I will start with the most frequently asked question leading up to the half: "What time do you think you will run?" I'm not a big fan of that question, but it's inevitable that people are going to ask it when they know you are heading into a big race. My response: "Well, I hope to be around 1:23-1:24." At that point in the conversation, the person asking the question would raise his eyebrows and without verbally saying, "YOU ARE CRAZY," his eyes would silently scream: "NUTSO!"

I'll admit it: I am slightly nuts. I liked abnormal psychology in college for a reason ;) But I understand the reaction. My PR before Saturday's 1:23:28 was 1:27:12. Yet before Saturday, I never walked into a race deserving to run fast. I never headed into a race where I consistently put the miles and the workouts in the bank. I have spent far too many years magically willing myself to run faster times than I deserved to run. Saturday was different. I toed the line with a quiet confidence because I knew I had put the work in to be there. My nerves eased up before the gun snapped, a fluffy cloud of peace enveloped my body, and I started my watch believing that the race should literally run itself.

H - my friend/coach who doesn't like to be called "coach" but he is the best coach I have ever met - gave me two numbers to remember: miles 5 and 10. I am a bit old school in that I do start my watch, but I never take splits, lap times, half times, mile times . .. I let the race story unfold as it will and I let my internal clock set the tempo. I am fairly good at only obsessing about the numbers that I need to. In this case, H. said the be around 32:00 for 5 and 1:03:25 for 10. His ambitious goal was for me to dip under 1:23. I hit mile 5 a little under 32:00 and mile 10 in 1:03:28. I shook my head as I passed mile 10: how could H. have been so dead on? Clearly, he knows me way better as a runner than I know myself.

When H emailed the race plan the night before the race, I have to admit that I giggled and let out a "yeah right." But when I passed mile 10, I knew he was right. I didn't even know what pace that was . . . all I cared about was hitting 63 minutes.

The last 3 miles flew by even though they weren't problem-free. At mile 11, my right shoulder cramped and I lost feeling in my left foot - it completely cramped and went numb. The temperature was in the 80s at this point and I suppose that I was a tad dehydrated, but I refused to let anything get in between me and the final clock time. When my foot rebelled against me, I took a few deep breath, told myself to relax, and then I completely ignored the fact that I no longer had a left foot working with me. I also got a side stitch, but I ignored that too. This race was just as much a mental test as a physical test.

I flew through mile 11, but mile 12 never came . . . I missed the mile mark so I was completely caught by surprise when I neared the end of the race. Of course, for those of you who are familiar with Grandma's, the final mile is literally the never-ending mile. I made a mistake by not studying the course map or driving the course. I didn't realize the end was near until it was way too late to dig deep and burst to the finish with a blazing kick. I allowed myself to ease up too much toward the end of this race - a mistake I will NOT be making again.

I finished the race with a good feeling: I still had a lot left in the tank to give. Hopefully I will exhaust that extra fuel when I race another half in August.

I am still trying to process the race. A part of me doesn't believe that I actually ran that time because it is something that used to feel so far out of reach. I always wondered, "what would it feel like to run 1:22 - 1:23?" Well, I have tasted that time now . . . and it feels the same as 1:29. I want to go faster :)

The best part of my training - so far - is that I have survived it relatively injury free. My mileage has been steady for the past 9 weeks around 44-54. I have done 2 workouts/week and run mostly 5 days/week. What's the biggest difference between now and when I was running 1:29? Easy: consistentcy and FAITH. I trust my coach, I trust my body, and I believe that I can do it. I have let go of the mind games, the self-doubt, the anxiety over what other people think . . .

I'm not going to get wrapped up in thinking about the Chicago Marathon this October, but if things continue to go well, then I am going to go after it and chase down the one dream that I have had for 20 years. Grandma's was awfully good to me - and Chicago has always been a friend - so I am ready bank the miles and go . . .

Posted by bridget at 7:52 PM | Comments (3)

June 16, 2007

Good Day at Grandma's

I finished the half in 1:23:28 (6:22 pace; 8th woman). I have a lot to say about this race so I will definitely be posting a blog entry when I get back to Chicago tomorrow afternoon!! This is almost a 4 minute PR.

Posted by bridget at 4:44 PM | Comments (7)

June 8, 2007

Things that make you go "Hmmmmmm"

I had a workout on Wednesday that I like to say was a "hmmmmmm" workout. It wasn't particularly terrible, but it wasn't particularly great either. It was like getting a "C" - just average, but the problem is that I never got "Cs" . . . that is, not until I became a runner.

I am about a week away from running the only race that I can truly say that I deserve to run fast because I have done the work, and for the first time in my life as a runner, I have put my faith in someone else to lead me to the "promised land" (in this case, a 1:23 - 1:24 half). After a gut-wrenching 12 mile strength run on Saturday in high humidity (I finished it with a 6:01 mile), I was feeling pretty confident. Yet if running has taught me one thing, it is this: confidence is fragile and it shakes.

My legs were tired heading into my final 15 miler on Sunday, but 7:00-7:10 pace still felt happy. I walked into Monday - my day off - still feeling good. Tuesday I logged 8 miles and started to look forward to Wednesday.

Wednesday morning - 5:30AM - rolled around and I felt completely lifeless and flat. The workout was supposed to be 8 x 800 with 2 in 3:00 (60 sec. rest in between intervals, and 90 seconds between sets), 4 x 2:55, and 2 x 2:50. I started off with a 2:56 and I felt like an alien in my body. We slowed down the next one and clocked a 3:02 . . . but it felt harder than the 2:56. I knew I was in for it.

The next 6 went something like this: 2:55, 2:55, 2:53, 2:55, 2:55, 2:56. I could not crack 2:55, let alone 2:50, to save my life. Our coach thought the 800s (which we ran on the Lakefront - and all of the mile marks have been re-marked) were a little long. I wasn't buying it, though. Well, Google maps did show that they were .02 long, but I have decided not to trust Google on this one.

Anyway, I wasn't very happy with my workout, but I wasn't disappointed in my effort. I wasn't going for a leisurely Wednesday morning stroll . . . I was running hard.

Then again, just 8 weeks ago, I was happy to break 3:00 for one interval . . . how can I be upset now? My fitness has definitely improved and I need to remind myself that not everyday is going to be fantabulous, as my friend Kristen would say. We just have to roll with the punches and keep on rolling . . . especially when we get sucker punched by a bad day.

I'm focused on next weekend. I am running a controlled 5K track workout tomorrow, 12 on Sunday, and then it's all downhill from there. I am going to be quite jittery and antsy all of next week, but I appreciate a nice taper; the taper is a sweet reward for hard work.

P.S. Thank you to all of you who have checked out Her Active Life!

Posted by bridget at 4:59 PM | Comments (3)

June 1, 2007

Breaking Barriers

I promised an update this Friday . . . so here it is :) I ran a 5K last night and I PR'd by almost 40 seconds. I finished in 18:40!!!! I didn't exacly run a smart race, but I will take the PR with no complaints.

A little race recap: The gun snapped at 6:30 PM after a day filled with marshmellowy-grey clouds, rain-tears, and overall dreariness. But just as the race started, the clouds parted enough to allow the sun to peak through, the drizzles to stop, and the humidity to lift enough to make breathing bearable.

The butterflies rumbled and tumbled in my stomach, but I tried hard to prevent my nervous energy from making my body go weak - I have had this happen several times and it usually takes 3 miles to find my race rhythm. Well, I didn't have 3 miles to ease into a rhythm last night so I tried to stay calm and keep things fun. That's when I turned around and saw my husband, B., with a race number on! He told me earlier in the day that he couldn't make the race. So I didn't even entertain the possibility that I would swing around and he would be standing there in his technical T, mizuno shorts, and Karhu racing shoes ready to rock! He' s my good luck charm.

Having B. there made everything fun and it drained some of the nervousness from me . . . which was good! Then H., my friend who is "coaching" me (he doesn't like being called "coach"), showed up to cheer our little team on! What more could one ask for?

But, like I said, I ran semi-chaotically. Ever since I turned those fast loops in Central Loop last weekend, my legs have been pissed off. I took Monday off, ran 12 on Tuesday and 8 on Wednesday and I basically felt like an overcooked potato. I walked Mr. Ajax - my 3.5 year-old dog, race morning and spent the rest of the day working like crazy on my new site, Her Active Life. By the time 5:30 rolled around, I had performed my pre-race rituals (hot shower, read some zen stuff, meditate) and I was ready to roll. Did I mention that I had cookie dough ice cream as my pre-race snack? I was worried that that might come back to haunt me, but - luckily - it was the perfect fuel!

I am totally detouring on actually talking about the race. So here goes: I took off like a bat out of hell and ran 5:44 for my first mile (PR). I freaked out and slowed down. Hit mile 2 in 11:50 and freaked out (another PR). Kept going. Kept going. I was all alone. By about 2.5, I was convinced that I wasn't going to break 19:00. I refused to look at my watch. Then I saw the 1/2 mile to go sign and my legs woke up a bit . . . they had totally gone to sleep!

H. jumped out with 300 meters to go and, without really saying anything, helped me pick up my pace. I suddenly found another gear that I didn't know I had and pushed it. I discovered that - buried somewhere in the deep crevices of my muscles - I have 2 fast twitch muscle fibers. When I crossed the line and stopped my watch, I was elated to see 18:40 staring back at me!

I took today off and my legs feel surprisingly fresh. I am meeting my crew at 6:30AM tomorrow to get in 12 miles, then I have 15 on Sunday. Then I am off again on Monday and back at it again for an easy 8 on Tuesday. My half marathon is less than 3 weeks away!

Once again, I am feeling incredibly humbled by this (knock on wood) streak of PRs and healthy, happy running. I am not taking this for granted - I came pretty close to losing it all this Fall. I think taking a 4 month break to reassess life and running was good for me. I am deeply in love with this sport, and just as the words scroll across the top of this blog, I have miles to go before I sleep . . .

Posted by bridget at 9:41 PM | Comments (4)