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January 30, 2005

3M Half Marathon

7:02 pace on a downhill marathon was not easy. I think that's the nail in the coffin on a pr for Freescale. I'm really surprised at how I've struggled over the past few weeks, but I'll bet that stress - work- and injury- related - has a lot to do with it.

The plan was just to run and see how things felt. I definitely didn't want to race it; I wanted to run comfortably and hard and see how things turned out. I opened with a really easy 7:31 pace and then worked down to 7s and then hit 6:49, 49, 52 and thought I was in a groove. But after that I hovered back around 7s and at one point had a 7:14. Then ... I stopped looking at my watch. It was just too discouraging. It *definitely* could have been worse. I just knew it wasn't going to be the redemption I was hoping for! The acute pain in my leg subsided, as usual, after a few miles, but there's a more general tightness/ fatigue in my calf that never quite goes away. Now it feels nearly as bad as it did when I first decided to lay off of it. If I were a racehorse ...

Making things a little harder was the fact that people were pr-ing around me left and right. Big pr's, too. Three guys I beat at the last half marathon came in 1:25-26, which is 2-3 minutes faster than my fastest half ever. I'm genuinely happy for them, but it'd be a lot easier to be happy for them if I had something to celebrate myself!

Andy has been trying so hard to convince me that I can still do well at the marathon. Well yes ... there's always a chance for a miracle! But the numbers don't lie, and I just need to come up with a plan with the information I've got (and it ain't gonna be 6:50s from the starting line. That'd be a recipe for disaster, fer sure.)

Alison, there was a big Hansons group at the race this morning. Brian Sell pretty much blew the field away. Andy's been checking out their training logs since he read about them in the paper - maybe he'll be inspired to run a 140-mile week.

Blondie, I got some really weird looks this morning standing around in cold, cold weather in my shorts and jog bra and gloves. Once I got in with the crowd I was pretty warm, and later on in the race I was definitely happy with my wardrobe choice.

Oh and to top things off I got the big age-group boobie prize: 4th.

Taper On.

Posted by jenandmats at 7:56 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

January 27, 2005

Twilight Zone

I joke a lot about being tightly wound. And I am. But not nearly as much as I joke that I am I don't think. At least I hope I'm not. I think as a teenager and younger I imagined myself a calm, cool, and collected person, but as I got older I realized more and more how easily I become flustered and frustrated. I used to get really down on myself when I got flustered or frustrated in front of people. I still do, and will probably always wish I were that calm, cool, collected person I imagined myself when I was younger. But for the most part, I've come to accept the fact that I tend toward the uptight and hyper and have just learned to laugh at myself. My friend and coworker Maria is rarely flustered by anything; sometimes I wonder if anything really fazes her (or if she has a pulse!), and we joke about how different we are. We always joke that I'm like Steve Martin's oldest kid in (quite possibly my favorite movie of all time) Parenthood; a kid who totally freaks out when he loses his retainer and starts crying at the slightest frustration.

All that self-analysis to get me to my point: I haven't been sleeping very well with this leg injury thing. Especially the nights before I've decided I should run; I'm constantly fidgeting with my leg in my sleep, poking at it and wondering "should I really run in the morning?" And sometime about 3 this afternoon it all hit me like a ton of bricks: I need a nap NOW. I got through the rest of the afternoon with a Coke, and then had one of those weird, slow, rainy commutes home where I pull in the driveway and think "How did I get here?" Right now I've got a little tunnel-vision and have that Twilight Zone feeling. So I'll be asleep shortly, I think.

I've been particularly snippy with people the past few days as a result of the stress and the sleeplessness, and have had a few minor outbursts of frustration. Mostly people have understood, but I just wish I could not let that side of me out so often. To my credit, I don't wallow in it - I just let it out and then move on. But I'm always still embarrassed that I do it, mostly because it makes some people uncomfortable. My good friends, however, are pretty much used to me by now, and they just usually pat my head and tell me I'm ok.

I managed to get in 3.5-4 miles of another "good clip" in. I'll call it tempo, but I'd probably be really disappointed in the pace if I'd timed it. It was dark and the trail is uneven, which always makes it hard to relax and stay focused. And this morning it was raining and I was battling with a surprising number of walkers with big umbrellas taking up the whole trail. (Good on them for being out there, though.) I started with my friends Wendy and Daryl, and after a mile I put in a little surge but then lost interest after about 400 yards. I tried again, but lost interest again, and Wendy and Daryl caught up to me, which was when one of the aforementioned mini-hissy-fits occurred. They offered sympathy and encouragement, though, and by the time we started back to the rock after crossing the bridge I decided to give the up-tempo one more try. And this time it stuck, and I got the 3+ miles in. Thank you Daryl and Wendy.

Same story with my leg on this run. Two miles or so of pain every step that subsided after I got good and warmed up. Then it felt good all morning but got worse as the afternoon went on. I iced at breakfast and stretched a few times during the day, so hopefully it'll be ok tomorrow.

So enough self-analysis and flagellation for one evening probably. I need sleep.

Posted by jenandmats at 8:35 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

January 26, 2005

Beat 3

So here's Andy's story:

This was my 4th Houston and 14th marathon. Houston is a well-supported, flat, fast course with the big unknown being the weather. Last year I hit a new PR of 3:07:33 when it was upper 40s, low 50s and a mild wind, nearly perfect, but this year’s forecast looked even better, promising upper 30s, low 40s and mild wind. Last year I followed Pfitzinger/Douglas’ 12wk 70mi program and this year I extended to the 18wk plan. I was excited but guarded since this year I had no pacers and my training was weak in the weeks before the race coupled with shoe/foot issues. My only prospect for a running partner was a guy named Jeff from Austin whom Jen heard was also trying to break 3 but this news came on Friday afternoon and I’d never met him and couldn’t contact him. I had his picture and knew he’d be wearing Texas shorts but that was it.

Saturday, we hit the expo in the afternoon and then headed to my parents’ house in NW Houston to pack in some final carbs of spaghetti and bread. Jen was in bed around 9 while my sister, Holly, and I hung out with Mom chatting and getting organized for the morning. I got my clothes together, stuffed 3 Clifshots in my shorts, and spelled ‘BEAT 3’ in duct tape on the front of my shirt knowing that the crowd support was going to be key. I was in bed around 10pm.

Gun time was 7am so I was up at 4am drinking my Boost, eating half a toasted bagel, and making final preparations. Final preparations included removing my chip from my Brooks Adrenalines and lacing it onto my new New Balance 856s, my biggest mental dilemma going into Sunday. The question was did I want the pain in my instep from the Brooks or the pain in my Achilles from the NB. I leaned towards the Achilles pain but was worried since I’d never run more than 5 miles in the NB but they were fresher shoes where the Brooks had over 225 miles on them and I couldn’t afford a stress fracture with Austin just 4 weeks away. Off we drove, Jen and I following Holly to downtown Houston where we found a parking garage and an empty elevator.

Entering the downtown Houston street from the parking garage, the first thing I felt was a breeze across my face and I thought, “Wind...#$&%...the one factor that could ruin this, otherwise, ideal marathon day.” We walked on towards the George R Brown stopping momentarily at a row of available port-o-cans on the way. Continuing through the streetlamp-lit darkness with hundreds of other runners headed in different directions, we entered the GRB and made our way to the bag drop. I stripped down to shorts, long sleeves, gloves, and a stocking cap and then pulled a trash bag on for last minute warmth. A final kiss for Jen, we parted, and Holly and I headed to the Hilton to stand in line for a final bathroom break before the race.

As I headed out of the bathroom, I heard Holly behind me. She told me that there were two of her friends from San Antonio in the bathroom and they were shooting for 3 also. Right then, she thought one of them came out and urged me to catch him. I fought through the sea of runners in the hotel lobby, tapped him on the back and asked him if he was Arnand from San Antonio to which he replied, “sorry, wrong guy.” My only hope for a running partner is to find Jeff in this crowd of thousands of runners…ughhh. Out of the warm lobby, into the chilly Houston air, and into the starting area on Crawford I went. The corral of runners was growing dense but I was able to work my way near the front where I could see the 3:10 pacer. Moments later the announcer was introducing Shawn Colvin who sang the National Anthem as a pair of F-16s flew overhead. The cannon sounded and the shuffle over the mats started.

I hit the starting mats with 15 seconds showing on the official clock and worked into a comfortable stride quickly, hoping to hit low 7s for the first mile which I did, 7:16. I was searching the crowd for those Texas shorts and saw several but no one matched Jeff’s picture. Picking up the pace slightly in the 2nd mile, I was feeling relaxed and didn’t have to weave through other runners too much. Near mile 2 the marathoners merged with the half marathoners and somewhere in the mix was the 2 mile marker which I missed. My watch showed 7:22 which I knew was off but I didn’t know by how much. I was suddenly distracted by Texas shorts ahead of me and I picked it up to catch him. “Are you Jeff?” “Yeah.” “I’m Jen’s husband, Andy.” “Oh, hey, good to meet you (handshake) and this is Ricky (handshake)” We chatted a little but were focused on pace which was a bit fast for the next couple miles until we settled down. Jeff’s friend Chris met us at mile 6 to pace the final 20 right about the time I saw Brent cheering from his balcony, “Good Job, Stew!” Chris set the pace out in front of us. When he heard the pace called out around mile 10 as 6:52, he said that we needed to push that down to 6:50. Too fast for me. I could feel those couple seconds difference he was running versus what was comfortable for me and I struggled with staying with them for the company or letting them go and running alone at my comfortable pace. They were very focused on pace and weren’t too chatty so I decided to run my race, my pace. They stayed nearby and I’d catch up to them and then they’d pull away again. Constant shouts of “BEAT 3, GO 3, ALRIGHT 3, You’re on pace for 3!” followed me. Around mile 12 I heard a familiar voice cheering for me and saw it was Keri and Anne all bundled up. After the half, Jeff and Chris pushed to maintain the pace as the wind grew noticeably stronger and I fought to draft with them. I took my first half of Clifshot (chocolate) and held the second half until the next water stop near 15.

Mile 15, 6:39, big surprise at the time but looking at the times now it looks like 15 may have been short and 16 long. After mile 15 I let Jeff and Chris pull away again and was alone headed toward Post Oak where a headwind was blowing at 16mph, the highest recording of the day, recorded around the minute I was fighting it. Post Oak is a straight, open stretch nearly a mile long typically with good crowd support which was lessened by the weather conditions. I could see Ricky about 100 yards ahead of me in the middle of a draft line of about a dozen male runners led by a female runner; that looked cool. Jeff was drafting off of Chris about 50 yards behind them, 50 yards in front of me. There was no way I was going to attempt to close the gap to draft but the wind in my face had my mind suggesting that I go for 3 on another day. I kept telling myself that I was still on pace and though I may drop a few seconds here, the final 5k should have more crowd support to help me get the time back. The wind in my face was torture and my mind kept talking louder encouraging me to throw in the towel. This was my day to break 3 and here I was alone with a headwind still questioning my shoes and still feeling the ache in my quads that started before mile 13. “BEAT 3, You’re gonna do it!” “Hmmm, as much as I’d like to, I can’t keep fighting this wind.” Mile 16, 7:00, “Damn!” I knew I had some time in the bank but I couldn’t afford to lose that much in a single mile (now it looks like the mile was long). I opened another Clifshot (MochaMocha w/ caffeine) and took down half of it saving the second half for the next water stop around 18.

After the turn off of Post Oak, it was a relief to be out of the wind but the effects lingered. I continued to give up time in 17 and 18 running 6:56 and 6:55. The crowd was thin after 18 but my mind was busy, frantic. Was I or was I not willing to keep fighting, how much time was in the bank, which mile was I at, is that wind still in my face?? I was still near pace. My legs could still go even though they weren’t 100%. The motivation was lacking and I was alone. In a stretch of sparse crowd support leading to mile 19 there was a group of young black girls, maybe 15 of them, who went freakin’ crazy when I ran by. “What the….?? Why are these girls yelling?! There’s no one here but me!” I saw the mile marker and hit my watch- 6:50! I looked back to see what mile it was. Mile 19, not 20 like I thought for a split second, but I’m ok. I felt energized. I was on the verge of throwing in the towel, just backing off completely but now this?! This group of young fans urging me on. Why? I was headed toward the final 10k, and I had actually got a couple seconds back. I realized that I was still in the game and that if I stuck with it, I could have a shot at beating 3.

Entering Memorial Park there was a very familiar song playing as I got closer to the Bayou City Runners area. They were blasting Dave Matthews's Ants Marching, one of my favorite songs! This was a sign. I remember the stretch through Memorial Park last year being dead but this year it was lined with music which is exactly what I needed. I had dreaded reaching this stretch since before the race started. I knew that if I could make it through here, I was golden. I didn’t foresee nearly caving at mile 16, 17, and 18. I was still wounded but my outlook was brighter and I also knew that my parents were waiting to cheer me on at 22.5.

Around 21 I took the first half of my final Clifshot (also MochaMocha) and continued to try to hold pace and enjoy the music. As I approached the turn between Memorial and Allen Parkway, I could see the neon green signs with sparkling streamers bobbing up and down. My parents had spotted me. My eyes flooded. I rounded the corner thanking them and high-fiving my cheering mom. Onward to the final 5k.

Though my spirits were higher, I’d continued to give up time after 19. I’d see the mile marker and look at my watch thinking I was on pace but the seconds ticked too fast. I couldn’t beat them! I’d nearly sprint the final steps to the mile marker to try to get a 6:52 frozen on my watch but I couldn’t catch it.

The big crowds I expected to carry me down Allen Parkway to the final mile didn’t show up, too cold, I guess. There were some supporters but it was more sparse than usual. Miles 23, 24, and 25 were 6:58, 6:54, and a crushing 7:07. I was fighting so hard to keep my pace and my new energy but the lacking crowd-support nagged at me. My legs were tired and I was becoming disappointed at the thought of just missing breaking 3. The cheers of “Go Beat 3, Go 3, You’re Gonna Beat 3!” continues here and there and at one point I heard the cheer followed by a muffled, “He better hurry up!” which is exactly what I was thinking.

This year’s finish has the final 2 turns just past 25 and then it’s a straight shot down a downtown street to the finish. You can actually see the arch over the finish line from nearly a mile out! When I made that final turn, I suddenly wanted that carrot! I snapped; I was mad! I could see it at the end of the street, that big, blue arch with the official clock ticking below it. I looked at my watch and the total time was still under 3 hours but my tangled mind couldn’t compute the reality of the ticking seconds. I had to constantly blink my eyes to clear them to read my watch. I pushed down the homestretch, solely focused on the time rapidly approaching 3 hours. The gap between me and the finish line seemed unchanging. I increased my pace and thought, “Am I pushing as hard as I can? No. You’ve got more. Dig. Deeper, Damn it! There you go. Go!” Turning my legs over as fast as I could, I was in a dead sprint now closing that gap. I suddenly recommitted to beating 3 even though I had no idea if it was possible; I was just unloading everything I had left. The on-looking crowd grew dense. Their deafening screams were a muffled cloud in the back of my sharp, focused mind. I was in a rage sprinting past one runner after another to get my foot on the mat; me versus my watch!

Around the 26 mile marker one loud little voice penetrated my focus. It was Jen yelling, bouncing, cheering me on. Again, my eyes flooded. “I’m gonna do this!” I thought. I passed a blue and white blur that was Ricky. I glanced at my watch frantically as I watched the official clock ahead of me pass 3 hours. My chip time was still under but not by much. The final chute was lined by a roaring crowd that couldn’t be ignored as I grinned. I hit the finish line mat and yelled “COME ON!”- a final prayer for a sub-3 official time as I clicked my watch. I stared at the display through tears. 3:00:01. I knew my foot hit the mat before my finger hit my watch but was it 1 second, 2 seconds? I didn’t know but I was sure it was under 3:00:01 and I was ecstatic! I pulled my gloves from my waistband and put them over my eyes to catch the tears as I stood a few yards past the finish line. I couldn’t believe it! I had almost given up! (the 1.2 mile pace comes to 6:25 and change! Where that energy came from, I’ll never know.)

After posing for a photographer, I entered the finisher’s area in the GRB. It was almost empty, only a few volunteers and runners milling around. The food and water tables looked nearly untouched. Now I realize that finishing in 3 hours in Houston puts you around the top 100 so the crowd was behind me. It was a bit strange but good to have some time alone. I grabbed some Gatorade and water and couldn’t help sob a little. It was a similar, uncontrollable emotional experience to my first marathon. I really thought I couldn’t do it and here I was on the other side of the finish line. I remember cheering at the finish line the day my brother-in-law first broke 3 and I thought, “That’s impossible.”

Heading to the bag drop area, another runner read my shirt and asked, “So, did you do it?” It felt surreal to smile and say, “Yeah, I did.” I found my walkie-talkie and radioed to Jen who was waiting for Holly to pass 26. Over the radio she asked what my watch said and I could barely get the words out. I found her at 26 and we cheered for Holly as she passed looking strong running with Mike Chica.

As usual, we had a big crowd at Star Pizza and celebrated with pizza, beer, and a big chocolate cake, courtesy of Mom. The Johnsons, Betsy and Jeff, Cory, Tiffany, and Madison all made it out along with Mom and Dad, and a big San Antonio crew including Ricky. After the party, we returned to Mom and Dad’s house to grab a nap before the drive back to Austin. I didn’t nap much and wasn’t tired at all as I drove back to Austin. I couldn’t believe what had happened earlier that day. I got several congratulatory calls Sunday and Monday and was made to feel like a celebrity among our running friends. My legs began to ache Sunday night and my first steps Monday morning were difficult and painful. My quads were very sore and my left Achilles hurt as did the instep of my left foot. 2 toenails on each foot blistered but were relieved with a needle. Tuesday my quad pain was minor, my left foot pains were gone, and I ran 3 mile fairly comfortably. I skied very comfortably over the weekend and must now prepare to pace Austin!

Splits 7:16, 6:52, 6:51, 6:41, 6:49, 6:50, 6:42, 6:45, 6:51, 6:52, 6:52, 6:50, 6:50, Half 1:30:28, 6:51, 6:39, 7:00, 6:56, 6:55, 6:50, 6:57, 6:53, 6:55, 6:58, 6:54, 7:07, 7:50 for 1.2mi. (6:26 pace)

Final Clock 3:00:14
Final Chip 3:00:02
Final Official Pace 6:51 (equals 3:59:36)
Final Watch 3:00:01 (after crossing mat)

So, did I beat 3? I’m really not sure but I’m proud of myself for my perseverance and know that when I face life’s challenges, I can always reflect back on that lonely mile up Post Oak with the wind in my face.

Posted by jenandmats at 7:37 PM | Comments (9)

January 25, 2005

Minute by minute

I did a fartlek this morning on the trail - one minute on, one minute off - and had a pretty good time of it. I had gone to the track and had intended to do Steve's workout, but he didn't think track was such a good idea, especially since it's the outside of my outside leg that's been bothering me. So I headed to the trail and the first mile or so of fartlek just hurt with every step. But then after I crossed the bridge and headed back I couldn't really feel it anymore. And then walking around afterward I couldn't feel it at all.

But now it hurts like a mo-fo. So I've concluded that it's sitting at my stupid desk all day at work that is making things bad! Seriously! Desk job + overtime = bad running.

I have been missing out on reading everyone's blogs, and have only had time to skim. So if I'm missing something big would somebody fill me in? Thanks very much.

Posted by jenandmats at 8:55 PM | Comments (4)

January 22, 2005

The hay is in the barn

One of the worst aspects of having an injury like mine is the constant uncertainty. When I had my stress fracture a year or so ago I was put in a boot and told to not run for four to six weeks. Period. I wore the stupid boot for four weeks and then followed a walk-jog program to get me back into shape slowly but surely. With this injury, every day requires a decision of sorts: "Should I run today?" "How far to run?" "Will I be able to do this without making things worse?" "Will the hills on this course be a problem?"

All this week I wondered if I should do the 20 miles my friends were doing this weekend. Both Steve's group and Gilbert's group finished their 20-milers last week (and Gilbert on Wednesday emphatically told me "it's too late!" for any more 20-milers. Anything he tells anyone is done "emphatically," by the way. Dude has more energy than anyone I know.) And my shin pain made a subdued appearance on Thursday, complicating things further. But when my friend Wendy emailed me late yesterdy afternoon asking me if I'd join them for 20 I said yes. When I woke up this morning I looked at my shin and said "you might really hate me after this."

I was very tightly wound this morning, (ok, what else is new, right?) worried that maybe I shouldn't be out there at all, wondering how bad my shin would get and remembering that my hamstring had really bothered me on Thursday, too. Plus, Wendy and the others who had organized the run were carrying water bottles, indicating that water stops were not necessarily in their plan. And I had put my Gu in my gloves, then decided I didn't need the gloves and forgot to pick the Gu back up once I took the gloves off. So ... no water, no Gu, and a potentially bum leg.

Ultimately it all worked out and we had a fun run, following the course from about the 10K mark down to the finish line. Just past the halfway mark the cop sitting at the capitol cheered us on over his speaker, telling us that it was all down hill to the river. At mile 21 we saw the course certifier (certifier?) out marking the course, and our timing was such that we caught him nearly every mile after that. The last marker we saw him spraying was 40K. We all re-grouped with about 200 yards left and ran to the finish marker together. It was a great way to close out the training.

At breakfast our friend James showed up and the first thing he said to me was, "you weren't racing that half last weekend, were you?" I thought about kicking him very, very, hard in the shins. But I thought better of it. He was just giving me a hard time. James can be *so funny* like that. I had been joking with everyone during the run, though, about how after each of my races this year other than Houston I'd come into work on Monday morning to an in-box full of congratulatory emails. But not so much last Monday. I think I heard crickets chirping when I opened my email on Monday. Well ... maybe it's because it was a holiday. Or because they were too busy emailing Andy about his awesome race. Or ... maybe they just know that it sucked!

So there's not much left to do now. Two more weeks until MY cake week!

Posted by jenandmats at 1:08 PM | Comments (3)

January 20, 2005

Oh Whatever

I'd told myself at the beginning of this week that I'd take running easy until Thursday, and then try to get something worthwhile in. Unfortunately, Gilbert's fun group was doing track - a workout that I'd normally really enjoy, a downward ladder - but I'm afraid of track when I'm feeling vulnerable. So I did another "dice run" with a group of friends instead, most of whom are faster than I am, and secretly hoped I could con one of them into running something resembling a tempo run on whatever route we rolled.

It was a fun run - those guys are always entertaining - and at one point I had a group of about four of us running a good clip, but then there was a stoplight and a motion to let the group regroup, and that was the end of that. It was probably less than 4 minutes. Bah. I totally understand, though - socializing is the point of the dice run! I ended up cutting out early and running about 4 miles on my own at a good clip - a clip I'm calling "tempo." I was happy that I did it, especially since I kept it relaxed and I actually enjoyed myself. Maybe I'll be more inclined to do it again! I just dread doing stuff like that on my own.

I feel like I'm adrift right now without a plan. I did have a plan, but I think it's too aggressive for right now when I'm feeling vulnerable. Long intervals one day and a tempo another. It was a plan I thought was brilliant in its simplicity. But now I just don't know what to do. Now I feel like I'm making it up as I go along, which is tough to take mentally. I had wanted to feel like I'd prepared as best I could! I guess I *am* doing the best I can given the circumstances, but it's not a real confidence-builder, ya know?

Posted by jenandmats at 6:48 PM | Comments (3)

January 18, 2005

Taking it easy

I can't believe how sore I was after Sunday. I'm hoping Blondie's right that it's from my being rusty after more than a week off. That's my hypothesis as to why I locked up on Sunday and why I was unbelieveably sore the last two days. I was going to go for an easy 3-4 mile shakeout last night but felt so tight and sore I decided to walk-jog instead. And it wasn't just my injured leg that was sore - my legs were sore all over. I think I remember hurting like that when I first started running! During the race my injury really didn't hurt, although I think the calf/achilles on that leg was a little more tender than it normally would have been.

I'm well on my way to a complete recovery from last week's injury, I think. I had a massage today and the therapist could really make it hurt with all her poking and pulling, but that's the only time I can feel it really. It does seem a little like the pain has kind of moved around to other areas, but I'm doing the best I can to get rid of that.

I got new shoes. They're orange. Anybody else run in Asics Gel Flash (used to be Landreth?)

Posted by jenandmats at 9:45 PM | Comments (1)

January 17, 2005

A tale of two races

It was the best of times and the mediocre-est of times in the Bayou City yesterday. I'd looked forward to it for so long I can't believe it's all over now!

We were prepared for sub-freezing when we went to bed on Saturday night, but when I took Matty out at 4:45am for her morning constitutional on Sunday I realized that it wasn't freezing ... it was *perfect.* It felt like high 30s or low 40s. We were *all* going to have a stellar day. I could just feel it.

Parking at George R Brown was stressful, but everything else about this race is always so smooth. Except that Andy's sister Holly and I are ALWAYS two of the last people out of the convention center because we wait until the last minute to get in line for the porta-potties. Last year I was in one of them and I heard her come blasting out of hers and yell "good luck" at me as she's running away toward the start line, and when I came out I swear I could hear the crickets chirping it was so empty in there. The gun went off as I was running to the starting line and I got stuck behind a horde of walkers. This year we finally got our act together, and I was at the starting line a good 10 minutes before the gun went off, and I think she was too (the marathoners and half marathoners start on different streets and don't merge until about the two-mile mark.) And I remembered to smooch Andy and wish him luck - I've been so focused before I've forgotten to do that. The worst was when Motorola was on Valentines day and I just wandered off to the start from the car, off in my own little world. And I managed to get my bag to the right place, too. In Chicago a few years ago I suddenly realized how late I was and just dropped my bag where I was standing and ran off to the start (it made its way to the right place, though, thankfully.) Again, I thought we were all going to have a stellar day.

The national anthem was sung by Shawn Colvin, who has been one of my favorites since I discovered her right after college, and who ran the half. As she got to the rockets red glare two fighter jets flew over head and I got a little teary-eyed. Again I thought we were all going to have a stellar day.

Turns out I'd lined up a little too far back. Two years ago they changed to this split-race start from a separate gender start, which I LOVED. I could easily find my way around and figure out where I needed to be at the start when it was all women. Now I'm just part of the crowd, and unlike in Austin where I recognize people and can more or less place myself, I just placed myself about 10-15 seconds from the start. There were walkers in front of me, and groups of people running together. I bobbed and weaved and got to mile 1 in 7:12. I'd wanted a little closer to 7:00, so I felt I was in a deficit. Remember Galindo Bordin's emphasis on patience? I didn't.

Actually, I did great on the second mile, right at 6:50. I love the end of this race and had imagined myself holding a strong pace until mile 10 and then hauling back to the convention center. I had a 6:37 third mile, but it felt good, and I thought it was something I could hold for another 10. So why did I run a 6:33 next mile? I don't know. That was followed by 6:47, 44, 42, 44, which was consistent with what I'd hoped I could do. And then it started to get hard all of a sudden. The next mile was a 6:49 and then we turned into the wind and my next mile was 6:56. I decided to stop looking at my watch at that point; I could tell my legs were getting really tight. Not just fatigued, but downright tight. Like I had near-cramps in my calves and hamstrings. I felt like I was at the end of a marathon! I got passed by four women before the finish line - one of whom was tailing me and then blew by me within 15 feet of the finish line. I hope she feels good about that.

My time in the results isn't right - I think it's off by 30 seconds. I think I was a hair over 1:30, which is slower than my previous three half-marathons over the past two years, one of which was on a horrendously hilly course. So when I finished I just wanted to stand there and sulk for a minute, but the volunteers wouldn't let me. They wanted to make sure everything was alright, and one of them asked me how the hoopla was. The hoopla was what salvaged this race for me. I knew, even as my legs were falling apart, that I loved this race and the crowds and I should try to enjoy it. So I smiled and acknowledged the crowds and had a good time. Our names were on our bibs, and having people you don't know call you by name can be a little unnerving, but cool. One guy had a flapper noisemaker and as I ran by he started flapping it at me telling me to get a move on or he was gonna come get me. That cracked me up and definitely lightened my mood.

So after a brief sulking period that included a free full-on breakfast with eggs, sausage, buscuits, bagels, cookies and coffee (among other things, like the ice cream that I completely missed but was too cold to eat anyway), I headed back out to see the marathoners finish. I had intended to synch my watch with the finish clock, but I couldn't see it from where I came out of the convention center. So I stood at mile 26 obsessively checking my watch and looking for that familiar stride I knew so well. I had had his and Holly's splits delivered to my phone, so I knew that things had gone relatively well for both of them all the way to the 37K point (a checkpoint I'd thought was weird until I realized that it was 5K from the end.) When I got my first sight of Andy I wasn't sure it was him. I didn't recognize the shirt he was wearing. As he got closer I realized he was wearing one of his regular black shirts but he'd used duct tape to write BREAK 3 in huge letters on the front. My watch said he had no chance of doing so but I also knew my watch was significantly fast. He said later he heard several people say as he passed "well he'd better hurry up." I didn't say that but I was thinking it. I freaked out and I think I just yelled "KICK IT IN" over and over. I can't wait to see his finish pictures. He was in a full-on sprint. When I got his finish time on my phone it said 3:00:14, but I knew that was gun time. When I finally got him on the walkie-talkie he said his watch said 3:00:00.1. It wasn't until we were in the garage on the way to eat pizza that friends called to report his official finish time: 2:59:58. The garage acoustics were perfect for the WHOOP I let out. (I don't know why, but the results now look like they're about 30 seconds fast.)

Holly had a strong but disappointing race. I imagine that her race was very similar to mine, with things going well and then slowly falling apart. I'm so proud of both of us for continuing to push and stay strong even when we knew we weren't going to have the race we wanted. She looked really strong and determined when she came through, even though I knew she was probably disappointed - just a few minutes slower than a pr; a pr she knows she can break. (Just like me!)

We celebrated late into the afternoon and then headed back to Andy's parents house for a nap and then the 2.5hr drive home. I sure wish I didn't have to work today!

Posted by jenandmats at 7:33 AM | Comments (5)

January 14, 2005

Sports Performance International done me right

As much as I've missed running lately, I have certainly enjoyed my mornings at Austin Java with my work and coffee and breakfast. That's where I saw Andy Roddick and where I've had one of the city council members sit right behind me and have staff meetings and where, for the past two days, I've been seeing one of our Congressmen. He's not *my* Congressman, mind you. Travis County, one of Texas's few blue counties, was completely carved up two years ago in a nasty partisan fight (which ultimately led to the Democrats in both houses fleeing to Oklahoma and New Mexico - maybe you saw this on the Daily Show where the situation received the skewering it deserved.) But he's one of our senior members out there. So he's *kinda* famous, but not nearly as cool as Andy Roddick. I wonder if they'd talk to one another if they were in there at the same time?

BUT ... my leisurely breakfasts have come to an end now, because I've been cleared to hit the trail again. In fact, I ran three easy miles tonight down there. And everything felt great. I saw Dr. Spears at his free runner's injury clinic at RunTex today at lunch. I only talked to the guy for 10 minutes or less, but it was a worthwhile 10 minutes. I talked to his accompanying massage therapist, Ron Perry, for quite a bit longer. Because I was feeling so much better after only a week and because the injury warmed up with exercise, they diagnosed it as a muscular (anterior tibialis) problem, and said that while taking time off didn't hurt, what was really going to help it was exercises and some deep tissue massage and some ice. They said as long as I warmup that muscle up good on Sunday I should be fine.

SO. Hopefully that closes the book on *that* little dramatic chapter of Freescale '05 marathon training. Yuck.

I was only at RunTex for an hour or so, and got to see so many of the people I've been missing the past week! The RunTex 30K is this weekend and people were coming in to pick up their packets. I talked with the race directors of both Freescale and the 3M half marathon and socialized pretty much the whole time I was there. It's a good thing my leg was feeling much better and I was feeling optimistic or all those runners picking up their packets for the 30K might have been depressing ...

OK, so ... to Houston and beyond!

Posted by jenandmats at 9:54 PM | Comments (4)

January 13, 2005

Time to get back out there?

Ok so everybody send good vibes Andy's way this weekend. He's running the Houston marathon and is soooooo ready. (... to get it over and done with already.) I can't wait to see how he does; I have it set up so that his results and splits will be sent to my phone. My sister-in-law is running it, too. It's always such a fun weekend. Houston has a FABulous marathon.

I still don't know what I'm going to do this weekend. I may try a little training run tomorrow; it'll be the first time I've run since last Wednesday. I think that combined with my trip to the ortho clinic will give me enough information to make a good decision. Today the leg felt good, although I can *still* make it hurt if I try. I had wanted to wait until the pain was completely gone, but I'm not sure I can afford that luxury. We'll see. Our friend Joe told me yesterday he suffered something really similar (that started bugging him after the same run mine starting hurting me on, only a few months prior) but didn't stop running and just dealt with the pain. He *won* his marathon! (Hi Joe!)

Last night I swam at the Texas Swim Center which was really cool. I'd been in there before but hadn't swam there. I did one set of 25s where I was looking at the clock right under the "pool records" board so each time I'd come up from a lap I'd look up and see "Ian Croker" or "Aaron Piersol" or "Janet Evans" or "Natalie Coughlin" or any number of famous swimmers.

Swimming's been fine but it's getting tiresome. I drove over the river this morning and got a little heartsick seeing the fog on the water on a crisp clear morning. It was just about the time I'd normally be on the bridge - right under my tires, actually - looking out over the water stretching. I think it's about time to get back out there.

Posted by jenandmats at 10:18 PM | Comments (2)

January 11, 2005

Cake Week

Several weeks ago, Andy went to a seminar at RunTex featuring Gelindo Bordin, Olympic marathon champion in Seoul, and winner of the Boston marathon, among other things. I was blogging when he (Andy, not Bordin) walked in the front door, looked at me, and said "Good news."

Of all the training and racing gems Bordin dispensed that night, the one that stood out in Andy's mind was the recommendation that a marathoner should eat a cake every other day beginning six days out from race day. That was his "good news." He's been talking about it since before Thanksgiving. And since Andy makes great cakes (he's famous for it) and since today marks his race day minus six, I fully expected to come home to the sweet smell of a cake baking in the oven. No such luck. Hopefully he'll start tomorrow!

This afternoon I was particularly glad to be reminded of Bordin's talk, as Andy related it to me that night. He emphasized above else the role of patience in marathoning. Don't spin your wheels. Have faith in your training. Don't worry about what others are doing. It's advice that, if heeded, probably would have saved me from injuring my leg, and it's still valuable advice now. I'm taking this thing day by day and just doing what I can.

To clarify my dilemma about the Houston half this weekend, I fully intend to run the marathon, regardless of what happens with my leg. But if I do have a stress fracture (I'm going to a sports med clinic on Friday), they take 4-6 weeks to heal and that's a long time not to run. I think it would be pretty remarkable to maintain fitness that long. So if I'm going to run a mediocre marathon I don't really care if I do a kinda mediocre one or a *really* mediocre one. But I still have a chance to run my best half-marathon ever, which, while not as gratifying as a full marathon pr, would still be pretty kick-ass.

But the more I think about it the less inclined I am toward racing it - unless I've done at least one prior run without any pain. Even though this will be my last serious (read: high-mileage) marathon, halfs take far less time and commitment, so I'll probably have plenty of other opportunities to run a good half. More importantly, running it would be conceding that there's no realistic chance to still run a good marathon, and I'm not willing to say that yet!

Pain report for the day: still there. Making sudden stops when I'm walking makes me gasp and wince still. So does any lateral movement of my leg. But overall it's definitely better.

Workout report: another 2 miles of swimming. Janie gave me the workout. At first I was disappointed that we weren't doing the workout together, then she told me she was supposed to do 20x100 pull (or something close.) I really like pulling, but I don't need a total upper body workout to make me all PUMPED UP. So I was happy to do my sets on my own. And happy that she had the foresight to know that I didn't want to do her workout!

We had coffee at Jo's afterward, which was very cool, although I feel a little self-conscious with my serious goggle pock-marks. We saw my friend/coworker there dressed in a suit, reminding me that it was the first day of the 79th Texas Legislature (like I could really forget.) The reminder was such a workout/coffee buzz-kill. But I survived the day. Only 139 left!

Posted by jenandmats at 8:11 PM | Comments (5)

January 10, 2005

Email to Meghan

I didn't think I was going to have time to blog today, but I wanted to respond to Meghan's last comment, so I decided to shoot off a quick email to her to let her know I was ok. But I just couldn't keep it short! So I figured it was worth a post:

Thanks, Meghan! I didn't even realize there was a running fairy - maybe that's where all my troubles started. I didn't believe.

I'm going to talk to an orthopod if I can today. The thing barely hurts most of the time, but when it's been sitting still for a while and then I try to make it hurt it hurts just as much as it did last week.

I didn't spin yesterday - it was such a bust of a workout day! After reading ALison and Bridget's posts about being careful on the bike and remembering how much the leg hurt after the bike last week I decided to ditch the spinning class *on my way to the gym!* So I decided to go a la Mary and row, but the machine was broken! And then I thought "Nordic Track?" but that thing was broken, too.

This week's going to be tough. I was looking forward to running the Houston half this weekend almost just as much as I was looking forward to the marathon and I have to decide what to do about that. Houston's half is FAST, I'll still be in shape then, and there's much less risk of the leg acting up during a half and causing me to DNF. I might could salvage ONE good race and then just do what I can at Freescale. I just don't know what I'm risking. What if there is a full chance of recovery and some good training and I blow it at the half?

THanks so much for all the support.

Posted by jenandmats at 7:42 AM | Comments (5)

January 8, 2005

Swim Practice!!

Swimming carries a lot of emotional baggage for me. I swam on swim teams from 8th to 12th grade and then intermittently to stay in shape throughout college. The emotional baggage part comes from my last two high school years, though, which probably comes as a surprise to no girl who has ever been 17. Making things particularly bad for me was that the summer before 11th grade we moved to California and I went from a teeny-tiny high school on an island in the middle of the Pacific to a high school that was one of the largest in the nation. And they had an incredibly deep swim team.

I worked really hard at swimming, but was never very fast. But it was worse than just not being fast. Because I wanted to *be* fast, I swam with the club team during the winter, before swim season started for the high school. So both years I swam in California I began the high school season in lane 1 with the fast girls and then was systematically booted down to lane 8 as everyone else got in shape, and asked if I'd rather swim junior varsity. I cried in frustration at a swim meet on my 18th birthday (in private, of course.)

So yesterday I emailed my friend Liz in a panic about my leg - it's actually been getting worse even though I haven't been running. Liz ran a huge pr marathon after battling several injuries a few years ago, and I asked her what she'd done to stay in shape during the injury time. Swimming and spinning were her answer (well she aquajogged, too, but I don't think it's a very good idea for me. I hated it. And I never felt like I got a good workout, even when I did it without the belt.) So I decided to plan for the worst: 5 weeks of no running. If I can't run I plan to spin and swim myself into a frenzy.

This morning was morning #1 of my new plan, and I headed over to the neighborhood pool for master's swimming. The whole experience sent me way back - digging out my swimsuit and goggles, hoping the goggles wouldn't fall apart from rot, standing on the freezing pool deck, trying to get all my clothes off in a way that kept me warm the longest, splashing the paper workout to the pool wall so it sticks, the way that first length just feels soooo good and smooth before your shoulders start getting tired, getting lectured about breathing only on my right side ...

Our first set was a 2x 400, and I started to panic at about 275 when I realized I was in danger of getting lapped. But on the kicking set I dare say I was the fastest in our lane! Imagine that. My legs are strong. No. Way.

The swim coach was great - she's a two-time Olympian and a double Olympic medalist. She trained with Gilbert this past summer when I did my stint with him before my base-building ("run til you drop") phase. I googled her just now and there was a story about how she'd gone to the 88 Olympics at a really young age, had a goal of medaling in '92, and didn't make the team. But she came back in Atlanta and got her medals. A story about setback and ultimate goal achievement -exactly what I needed to hear.

I still got to go to runner breakfast, with serious goggle and cap marks on my face (very attractive. I have very UN-resilient skin.) In the back of my mind I've thought it might be best not to talk about my leg. If it does turn out to be nothing I don't want to be embarrassed about being so melodramatic. But it's hard not to talk about it. I'm what my friend Shannon calls a blurter - I have a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself (which makes me a VERY good blogger, by the way.)

So day one of the new plan went pretty well. I got in about two miles or so. Nothing was really that hard or fast; I guess they do more endurance stuff on the weekends, too. My arms were really tired at the end. I just don't know if it's financially worthwhile - there's a pretty hefty startup cost and you have to pay at least two months in advance. I only need 5 weeks.

My leg feels better today, too. (And here comes the excruciatingly boring part where I describe the pain in detail.) It seems to feel better after activity. Sitting at work yesterday it just got more and more painful when I'd get up, move it around, or press on it. Last night after sitting a long time at happy hour/dinner I stumbled a little bit on a parking bump and MAN it hurt. It hurts when I first get up - and if I use my leg to turn myself over in the middle of the night it hurts enough to wake me up. It hurts when I press on it, but if I keep pressing it doesn't hurt anymore. It hurts when I flex my foot, but if I keep it flexed or repeatedly flex it it goes away. It's an acute pain, not a soreness. I just have no idea what I'm dealing with. It does remind me a lot of the way my foot felt with the stress fracture, though.

So tomorrow the plan is to try spinning. I worry a little bit, though, since I did the bike at the gym on Thursday night and yesterday my leg hurt worse than it ever had before.

Oh I dunno.

Posted by jenandmats at 2:55 PM | Comments (10)

January 6, 2005

YOU PEOPLE ...

are so cool! I get emails (to my non-work email, of course)when someone posts a comment to my blog, so recently I've been getting these little pick-me-ups all day long. Which is nice since work is crazy. Thanks for all the encouragement!

I think tonight I'm actually going to cross-train. It may be the first time I've done that since my stress fracture last year. I was willing to risk one workout with shin/calf pain but not two. So I missed out on a tempo run this morning. I've missed a lot of tempo runs this training cycle which worries me A LOT. But there's still some time to get some good ones in once this new little pain goes away.

So here's to making this new little pain go away ...

And just in case I don't get around to blogging before Sunday: GO LIZ!

Posted by jenandmats at 7:00 PM | Comments (4)

January 4, 2005

Risks and Resolutions

On my right shin the muscle that flexes my lateral toes is very sore. You'd think I'd traumatized it somehow. It hurts when I first start running and then becomes barely noticeable until I get tired and then it gets tight again and I think it causes my calf to get tight, too.

So this morning as I jogged over to meet the group for the workout my mind was occupied with this new little nagging pain and the recognition that I'd run my longest training run *ever* just two days ago. I didn't feel like I was being very smart to be going to this workout (ok plus it was o'dark-thirty and I was on the trail on my own, which was making me feel even more crazy.) I usually err on the conservative side when it comes to spacing out my workouts and running when things hurt, but I decided this morning to take a little risk and see how things turned out. If my shin hurt or I felt like poop I could always just ease up or cut it short. I figured it'd be better than not starting at all. I'm at the point in my marathon training where a bad gamble can have really grave repercussions; but it's also probably not the time to sit around and wait for the perfect conditions for a workout, either.

I think this morning's gamble paid off. I have been craving long repeats, and Gilbert did not disappoint this morning. Last Thursday was 5x 1000; this morning was 5x 2000 on the same course we ran the Zilker Relays back in September. I did not do them as well as I would have liked. I would have liked to have done them progressively faster; I ended up alternating fast and slow. It was something like 8:06, 7:44, 7:47, 7:43, and 7:53 (I left my watch at work; I took it off while I was fidgeting over something I couldn't figure out.) I'm a little embarrassed about the last one being one of the slowest, but the crowd had thinned out drastically after three, even, and Gilbert had told us remaining marathoners that four was fine. But I had intended to do five when I started, so I made a deal with myself (and another woman I convinced to go with me) that I'd do a fifth one if I kept it more or less under control. Only three of us finished 5 repeats - I'm so proud of us. Hopefully I won't strain my shoulder patting myself on the back.
****************************

I have been reading all the other bloggers' resolutions and it's been inspiring! I feel left out of the party to some extent, though, because I don't really have any New Year's resolutions. The timing of this calendar year just doesn't line up well with the timing of my life. Right now I'm starting to wrap up a huge commitment in the marathon, something I've planned for now for months, and at work we've been getting ready for the session. Now's just not the time to start anything new. My "new year" will begin after this legislative session is over at the end of May (and if the members run off to Oklahoma or New Mexico again I'll have plenty of time to think about what to do with my free time!) I already have ideas of what I'll do when I get my life back in May, but for now I'm just going to focus on what I have in front of me. It's plenty!

Posted by jenandmats at 9:38 PM | Comments (5)

January 2, 2005

24 (and there's so much more)

I'd been apprehensive about this morning's run for probably the last week. With 15 marathons under my belt the longest I'd ever gone in training was probably 23. And that was maybe once. Most of the time I'd topped out at 22. I'm not sure I need 24, and the thought of missing quality workouts next week because I'm too tired from my long run doesn't really thrill me. So I decided to play it by ear (legs?)and told myself that I'd see how I felt late in the game, and if I was ok I'd push ahead with 24.

Complicating things further were 1) the instruction that we were to do 6 miles of marathon goal pace from miles 4 to 10; and 2) the fact that miles 15-20 were going to be hilly. Since I'd resolved earlier this week not to let "goal paces" dictate my running, I decided to play the goal pace running by ear, too. I figured if anyone else did it I'd play along. But I was just going to run with them and not really worry about what my pace was exactly. There was nothing I could do about the hills, really, aside from change the route entirely!

So I started off nice and slow, working out some kinks in my shins and one calf, but by the time we got to 3 miles or so I felt pretty good. A little after mile 4 one of the guys came up on me pretty fast doing his "marathon pace" so I picked it up to run with him. His marathon goal pace is a little slower than 6:50, but since there were no mile markers we really couldn't tell what we were doing anyway. It was just nice to run hard with someone for a while. It was tough, especially mentally since we knew how far we had to go, but we got through it. We may have even been a little fast at the end, because somewhere around mile 8 (so about 4 miles into the up-tempo) we took a wrong turn and added on an extra half mile onto the route and our up-tempo segment. Unfortunately we had people following us, too, and had to wave everybody to turn around. (It wasn't our fault! It was the map's fault ... even though I should have KNOWN better.) So we ended up trying to catch up to the people we started out the run with.

Right after we finished our up-tempo segment we caught a little bit of a police chase, which was a nice diversion. Some lady in a big old sedan was tearing down the neighborhood streets with the cops and their sirens in hot pursuit. Andy was running his run a little to the west of us and saw her in another neighborhood. I wonder if she was ever caught.

The next few miles were nice and uneventful, but as we headed back toward the river we passed my favorite clean bathroom and I just couldn't pass up the opportunity. I knew there wouldn't be anything in the last 10 miles or so. So I lost my pack but picked up another one as I came out of the bathroom. Eventually I left them, though, and ended up in a no-man's land in the middle. It would have been o.k. except I'm not very good at running and looking at the map at the same time, so I kept slowing down to make sure I could see people behind me. I was a little more apprehensive than I'd normally be after having already been lost once on this run! Mentally this was the hardest part, through the hills on my own. I really started to sag here, but managed to catch up with my regular pack at one of the water stops. By that time we only had 5 miles left and I was feeling pretty good. We finished on a nice long downhill stretch and I was feeling really good all the way to the finish.

It's nice to end 24 miles feeling strong! I'd say it was an excellent run, despite the wrong turn, except that my mile-16 self would probably disagree with me! She wasn't too happy in those hills by herself. (And did I mention it started to rain there, which was actually a nice change from the 100% humidity?) I saw my friend and our coach Janie in the middle of that stretch and when she first said "Hey how are you?" I responded "good!" And then I think a little later she revised the question and asked me "How are you doing?" and I was a little more honest with her (and myself) the second time! I think I responded with a sad little "okay ..." But, as the Monty Python crew would say ... "It got bettah."

Mile 25 was the ice bath afterward. I'm so proud of myself for getting my chilled, drowned-rat self into that bath tub. And sitting there for 10 whole minutes. But that's the only way I'm going to recover from this run and move on to the next one!

Posted by jenandmats at 2:42 PM | Comments (7)