Showing posts with label race face. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race face. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Boston Marathon Race Report
When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to dress me up on Patriot's Day in my marathon outfit and I'd run a course in their backyard south of Boston. As I grew older, the idea of running Boston always percolated, but it wasn't until I started running marathons that I started seriously courting the idea. In her demented state, my grandmother thought every marathon I did was the Boston marathon, so it was nice this past year to be able to say "Yes, Nana, this year I will run Boston." It is both heartbreaking and fitting that she died on the Thursday before Boston.
I arrived in Boston exhausted and sad. Thankfully, I was staying with two dear friends who boosted me up. I slept for 12 hours on Saturday night and even slept on Sunday night for about 7 hours. I drank plenty of water and powerade, ate well and stayed off my legs. On Monday morning, I met up with a teammate who convinced me that we didn't need to catch the bus until 6:45. While I'm not sure who was more nervous, having Matt around made for a very smooth race morning. By the time I got into the starting corral, I had 5 minutes to go and was feeling good.
My splits aren't particularly exciting. I went out slowly as planned and stayed steady through the whole race. My one mistake was thinking that I would have any sort of hammer to drop. I felt great throughout the race, but couldn't have picked it up anywhere past 20 without risking a blowup.
Start to 6: Went out slowwwwwwwly. Got in one collision at a water stop and subsequently teamed up with some other people to share cups instead of having to veer off to the left or right.
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| Cruising down Boylston |
My splits aren't particularly exciting. I went out slowly as planned and stayed steady through the whole race. My one mistake was thinking that I would have any sort of hammer to drop. I felt great throughout the race, but couldn't have picked it up anywhere past 20 without risking a blowup.
Start to 6: Went out slowwwwwwwly. Got in one collision at a water stop and subsequently teamed up with some other people to share cups instead of having to veer off to the left or right.
Mile 1: 7:38
Mile 2: 7:19
Mile 3: 7:20
Mile 4: 7:07
Mile 5: 7:17
Mile 6: 7:08
6 to 16: Spent most of these miles trying to stay patient and telling myself "only ten more miles until you see Mom and Suzy," "only 30 minutes until you see Mom and Suzy." I will say that I was more than overwhelmed by the Wellesley girls and rolled far left away from their waving arms. I was overjoyed to see my mom and sister at Newton-Wellesley hospital and impressed that they got the whole group around them to also cheer. It was a huge mental boost that carried me into the hills.
Mile 7: 7:01
Mile 8: 7:13
Mile 9: 7:09
Mile 10: 7:12
Mile 11: 7:10
Mile 12: 7:09
Mile 13: 7:09
Mile 14: 7:03
Mile 15: 7:08
Mile 16: 7:01
17 to 21: The Hills!! I decided early on to approach the hills as an opportunity to run strong, not something to be feared. I am a strong hill runner and actually prefer inclines to flats. I focused on form, using my arms to drive me up the hills. I am happy to report that I think Heartbreak just gets a bad rap...
Mile 17: 7:17
Mile 18: 7:21
Mile 19: 7:24
Mile 20: 7:23
Mile 21: 7:27
21 to finish: Once we were done with Heartbreak (bizarrely announced by a huge inflatable sign), I started to grind towards home. It was about here that I realized a 3:08 wasn't in the cards. I decided instead to try to run smooth and strong to the end. I saw my dad and aunt in Coolidge Corner and my mom and sister again at 25. I struggled with the silence under the Mass Ave bridge, where I had my first opportunity all day to think about the hallowed ground upon which I was running, to remember my Nana and Coop and how proud they would be to watch me finish. Thankfully, that silence doesn't last long. My girlfriends were at the turn onto Hereford and from there, it was time to head home.
Mile 22: 7:12
Mile 23: 7:19
Mile 24: 7:18
Mile 25: 7:18
Mile 26: 7:12
.2 (slash .4, ooops, not perfect tangents): 2:47 (6:47 pace)
Monday, April 18, 2011
Thank You
The marathon is an unforgiving mistress. It takes everything you'll give, and like most mistresses, it takes something from those around you too. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the group of people who got me to the starting line this morning. (And yes, I wrote this last week, I'm not that motivated or clear-headed on marathon day. That said, if I left you out, sorry. I really tried...)
Thank you to...
-The GMAA Sunday running group, for getting me out of bed all winter long
-Jason, Matt and the rest of the Dee PT team for putting me back together again, repeatedly
-My co-workers, for not teasing me for eating all the time, for forgiving Monday morning exhaustion and for trying to understand why someone would run 26 miles in a row
-My Phour, I won't even try to quantify
-Dr. Jimmy Slauterbeck, Dr. Ryan Duffy and the OSC at Fletcher Allen for pretty scars and a lot less pressure
-The Dailies crew, for keeping me honest, motivated and in awe 365 days a year
-Meredith and Lindsay, because there's a distinct chance that at some point today, my only motivation will be the after-party.
It's been said that the halfway point in a marathon is at mile 20. Miles 20 through 26 supercede training and preparation and most of the time, require pure guts. In my first marathon, I dedicated miles 20 through 26 to people in my life, wrote their names on my pace band and thought of them through some incredibly challenging miles. It worked, and I'm doing it again for Boston for people without whom this would not be happening.
Mile 20: Will Moss. For reminding me who I am and for getting me into this in the first place.
Mile 21: Mom, Dad, Suzanne and Stacey. When the going gets tough, I always have you and there is no amount of thanks I can give for that.
Mile 22: Will Manning. For being the place to vent with someone understands the stakes.You'll be back soon.
Mile 23: Matty. For biking with me in the pitch black, for never questioning why Sunday had to be dedicated to 3 hours of running, followed by ice baths and naps, for your continued effort at understanding why someone would choose to run.
Mile 24: Grampa Coop and Nana. I've been dressing up for Marathon Monday since I was a little girl. I wish you were here to see me finally run Boston, but something tells me you'll both be around. I'll do you proud.
Mile 25: Erin. Good running partners are hard to find. Great running partners are even harder to find. I hope you have a great race today. We deserve this.
.2: For me, because a year ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to run here.
See you in 3 and change...
~S
Thank you to...
-The GMAA Sunday running group, for getting me out of bed all winter long
-Jason, Matt and the rest of the Dee PT team for putting me back together again, repeatedly
-My co-workers, for not teasing me for eating all the time, for forgiving Monday morning exhaustion and for trying to understand why someone would run 26 miles in a row
-My Phour, I won't even try to quantify
-Dr. Jimmy Slauterbeck, Dr. Ryan Duffy and the OSC at Fletcher Allen for pretty scars and a lot less pressure
-The Dailies crew, for keeping me honest, motivated and in awe 365 days a year
-Meredith and Lindsay, because there's a distinct chance that at some point today, my only motivation will be the after-party.
It's been said that the halfway point in a marathon is at mile 20. Miles 20 through 26 supercede training and preparation and most of the time, require pure guts. In my first marathon, I dedicated miles 20 through 26 to people in my life, wrote their names on my pace band and thought of them through some incredibly challenging miles. It worked, and I'm doing it again for Boston for people without whom this would not be happening.
Mile 20: Will Moss. For reminding me who I am and for getting me into this in the first place.
Mile 21: Mom, Dad, Suzanne and Stacey. When the going gets tough, I always have you and there is no amount of thanks I can give for that.
Mile 22: Will Manning. For being the place to vent with someone understands the stakes.You'll be back soon.
Mile 23: Matty. For biking with me in the pitch black, for never questioning why Sunday had to be dedicated to 3 hours of running, followed by ice baths and naps, for your continued effort at understanding why someone would choose to run.
Mile 24: Grampa Coop and Nana. I've been dressing up for Marathon Monday since I was a little girl. I wish you were here to see me finally run Boston, but something tells me you'll both be around. I'll do you proud.
Mile 25: Erin. Good running partners are hard to find. Great running partners are even harder to find. I hope you have a great race today. We deserve this.
.2: For me, because a year ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to run here.
See you in 3 and change...
~S
Friday, April 15, 2011
Patience and Grit (aka the Plan)
I debated about sharing my running notebook where all of these plans are sketched down, starred, circled and highlighted. As my calendar post perhaps belied, I am someone who requires a plan to function. However, since this week is anything but normal and I still don't know my travel plans to Boston, I'm going to keep my journal to myself. I will, however, share my plan.
After reviewing my training log (4 times), the Boston course (at least 10 times) and using some of the various calculators available, I think I'm going to aim for a 3:08, plus or minus a couple of minutes. Although this is a 7:10 pace, this certainly isn't an even pace course. Go out too hard, and you'll understand first hand what a meat grinder feels like. Go out too easy, well, I'm not sure that's really a possibility.
My personal plan, in a nutshell, is to go out easy through 16, then grind it in. I'm a strong hill runner and my first marathon was very similar in profile to Boston (http://cityofoaksmarathon.com/course_info/), although without the constant hammering downhill of the first 6 of Boston. I remember this race much more fondly than the pancake flat Las Vegas, where I honestly thought another step at mile 21 was an impossibility.
I assume that my first mile will be slow due to a crowded start. Should this not happen, I am still prepared and planning to run no faster than a 7:20 mile for Miles 1 and 2. Through 6, I am going to be chanting patience in my head (and possibly writing it on my arm). This excludes mile 3, where a steep downhill may naturally pull me a little under. Then the plan is to cruise through to 16, somewhere around 7:05, plus or minus a second. 16 is where I swap mantras for grit. Climbing hills takes more time per mile, and I'm not expecting a negative split on this course, so I think a 7:19 is reasonable through the Hills. From mile 21 in, I want to focus on running strong, with the best form I can manage. If the going gets tough, I'm doing like Kara Goucher and counting to 100 over and over again.
16 miles is a manageable bite for me at this point. It's probably one of my favorite long run distances; long enough to feel like a workout, not long enough to hurt. If I can get through 16 with patience and legs that feel good, then I'm ready to fight like hell for the next 10.
Splits? (Again, pretty flexible, at least on the slower side. I am going to work very hard not to turn in anything under 7 minutes)
Through the half no faster than 1:34:30
16 around 1:54
20 around 2:30.
After reviewing my training log (4 times), the Boston course (at least 10 times) and using some of the various calculators available, I think I'm going to aim for a 3:08, plus or minus a couple of minutes. Although this is a 7:10 pace, this certainly isn't an even pace course. Go out too hard, and you'll understand first hand what a meat grinder feels like. Go out too easy, well, I'm not sure that's really a possibility.
My personal plan, in a nutshell, is to go out easy through 16, then grind it in. I'm a strong hill runner and my first marathon was very similar in profile to Boston (http://cityofoaksmarathon.com/course_info/), although without the constant hammering downhill of the first 6 of Boston. I remember this race much more fondly than the pancake flat Las Vegas, where I honestly thought another step at mile 21 was an impossibility.
I assume that my first mile will be slow due to a crowded start. Should this not happen, I am still prepared and planning to run no faster than a 7:20 mile for Miles 1 and 2. Through 6, I am going to be chanting patience in my head (and possibly writing it on my arm). This excludes mile 3, where a steep downhill may naturally pull me a little under. Then the plan is to cruise through to 16, somewhere around 7:05, plus or minus a second. 16 is where I swap mantras for grit. Climbing hills takes more time per mile, and I'm not expecting a negative split on this course, so I think a 7:19 is reasonable through the Hills. From mile 21 in, I want to focus on running strong, with the best form I can manage. If the going gets tough, I'm doing like Kara Goucher and counting to 100 over and over again.
16 miles is a manageable bite for me at this point. It's probably one of my favorite long run distances; long enough to feel like a workout, not long enough to hurt. If I can get through 16 with patience and legs that feel good, then I'm ready to fight like hell for the next 10.
Splits? (Again, pretty flexible, at least on the slower side. I am going to work very hard not to turn in anything under 7 minutes)
Through the half no faster than 1:34:30
16 around 1:54
20 around 2:30.
Friday, March 25, 2011
New Bedford Half Marathon Race Report
I arrived at the starting line of New Bedford with few expectations. After a rough winter on bad surfaces and numbness returning to my calf and foot, the only thing I knew was that I would finish and that at the least, I was working towards my resolution to race more. My goal was to run even splits, start at a pace I could finish at and dig deep.
This was the first race in a long time where I didn't find myself nauseated on the start line. Normally, I'm almost paralyzed with nerves. I don't know if it was the lack of a particular goal, the safety of not being fully tapered or the fact that I hadn't had to deal with race day details beyond getting to the start line, but I was calm and collected. Besides a minor altercation with a runner way in front of where she should have started and her lack of appreciation for my elbow in her back, the start was smooth. I let everyone else barrel out and just ran a relaxed opening mile in 6:46 with Matt. We chatted through 3, clicking off a 6:52 and 6:45 for Miles 2 and 3. Matt was aiming for a 1:25, so we split around 3. I felt good, although my calf had the all too familiar full feeling.
After topping the hill at 4, it was a downhill cruise for a few miles and I just focused on smooth, strong strides. Paces were 6:53, 6:28, 6:33, 6:21and 6:31 for Miles 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 respectively. I had a minor meltdown at 9, an incident perhaps predicted by Norm, who warned me to stay focused during the mile. My quads were shot from the downhill section and my stomach was upset from the Gu I'd taken during 8. I decided that the finish was as close as anything and got over it, turning in a 6:43 for 9. From there, I alternated between celebrating the finish and dreading the hill at 12.
A surprise wind around 11 was unpleasant, chilling the cup of water I inadvertently dumped on my singlet. Miles 10, 11 and 12 were 6:38, 6:39 and 6:39, which took considerable effort despite what those splits suggest. Then came the hill. Although we had run it during the warm up, and although I tend to be strong on hills, I was no happy camper while trucking up the hill. There were a few women around who were in the open class that I needed to pass, but my normal ponytail drive was focused almost entirely on just surviving the hill without stepping in a pothole. Mile 13 was a 6:52. Despite wanting to drop it for the finish, I settled for forward motion and turned in the last .2 (guess I wasn't running tangents...) in a 6:00 pace. My gun time was 1:28, chip time of 1:27:51.
After 30 seconds of feeling like shit (and looking like it, apparently, as the race volunteer wouldn't let me go), my all systems check suggested that things were fine, and I headed to the fence to cheer and cool-down. My post-race routine was not optimal; the food included clam chowder or fish sandwiches, neither of which I eat out of fear of accidentally consuming seafood. Instead, I ate pretzels and drank beer. A lot of beer. I paid for it Monday through Thursday, when stairs were not my friend. Just clicked off an 18, though, so I don't think the beer permanently harmed me.
All in all, it was a good confidence builder. I went out slowly, ran a smart strategic race and didn't have much left, as the picture below demonstrates. Don't mess with me in a dark alley...
This was the first race in a long time where I didn't find myself nauseated on the start line. Normally, I'm almost paralyzed with nerves. I don't know if it was the lack of a particular goal, the safety of not being fully tapered or the fact that I hadn't had to deal with race day details beyond getting to the start line, but I was calm and collected. Besides a minor altercation with a runner way in front of where she should have started and her lack of appreciation for my elbow in her back, the start was smooth. I let everyone else barrel out and just ran a relaxed opening mile in 6:46 with Matt. We chatted through 3, clicking off a 6:52 and 6:45 for Miles 2 and 3. Matt was aiming for a 1:25, so we split around 3. I felt good, although my calf had the all too familiar full feeling.
After topping the hill at 4, it was a downhill cruise for a few miles and I just focused on smooth, strong strides. Paces were 6:53, 6:28, 6:33, 6:21and 6:31 for Miles 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 respectively. I had a minor meltdown at 9, an incident perhaps predicted by Norm, who warned me to stay focused during the mile. My quads were shot from the downhill section and my stomach was upset from the Gu I'd taken during 8. I decided that the finish was as close as anything and got over it, turning in a 6:43 for 9. From there, I alternated between celebrating the finish and dreading the hill at 12.
A surprise wind around 11 was unpleasant, chilling the cup of water I inadvertently dumped on my singlet. Miles 10, 11 and 12 were 6:38, 6:39 and 6:39, which took considerable effort despite what those splits suggest. Then came the hill. Although we had run it during the warm up, and although I tend to be strong on hills, I was no happy camper while trucking up the hill. There were a few women around who were in the open class that I needed to pass, but my normal ponytail drive was focused almost entirely on just surviving the hill without stepping in a pothole. Mile 13 was a 6:52. Despite wanting to drop it for the finish, I settled for forward motion and turned in the last .2 (guess I wasn't running tangents...) in a 6:00 pace. My gun time was 1:28, chip time of 1:27:51.
After 30 seconds of feeling like shit (and looking like it, apparently, as the race volunteer wouldn't let me go), my all systems check suggested that things were fine, and I headed to the fence to cheer and cool-down. My post-race routine was not optimal; the food included clam chowder or fish sandwiches, neither of which I eat out of fear of accidentally consuming seafood. Instead, I ate pretzels and drank beer. A lot of beer. I paid for it Monday through Thursday, when stairs were not my friend. Just clicked off an 18, though, so I don't think the beer permanently harmed me.
All in all, it was a good confidence builder. I went out slowly, ran a smart strategic race and didn't have much left, as the picture below demonstrates. Don't mess with me in a dark alley...
 |
| Courtesy of Justin Ryea |
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Confession
Running movies and clips make me cry. Inconsolably. So does watching the finish of almost any race. This is somewhat surprising, as I am not a crier in any other situation. But show me someone working towards the finish of a race, be it a 4 minute mile or a 4 hour marathon and the waterworks start. With that in mind, I am sharing an article and clip that made me cry like crazy.
I grew up with Taylor. He and his brother Xander are the closest that I have to brothers. Taylor's parents both run and in fact, are probably part of the reason I went with running in junior high. Clearly Tayz and I found different ends of the running spectrum; he's an unbelievable 400 runner (those quads!) and I throw up at the thought of a 400, even one 20 to 30 seconds slower than what T runs.
Taylor was part of the DMR team that won Nationals last weekend and my sister forwarded both a clip and an article about the team. I made it through the article with minimal mistiness. I did not do so well with the YouTube clip. So Taylor, I'm infinitely proud, excited to have someone to talk running with and look forward to sharing the roads for the next 60 years, or until we decide to replace running with power-walking.
Enjoy all. Congrats to the Allegheny team.
Article: http://bit.ly/hUlk7q
You Tube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v
I grew up with Taylor. He and his brother Xander are the closest that I have to brothers. Taylor's parents both run and in fact, are probably part of the reason I went with running in junior high. Clearly Tayz and I found different ends of the running spectrum; he's an unbelievable 400 runner (those quads!) and I throw up at the thought of a 400, even one 20 to 30 seconds slower than what T runs.
Taylor was part of the DMR team that won Nationals last weekend and my sister forwarded both a clip and an article about the team. I made it through the article with minimal mistiness. I did not do so well with the YouTube clip. So Taylor, I'm infinitely proud, excited to have someone to talk running with and look forward to sharing the roads for the next 60 years, or until we decide to replace running with power-walking.
Enjoy all. Congrats to the Allegheny team.
Article: http://bit.ly/hUlk7q
You Tube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Wordless Wednesday: Count to 10 and you'll be done...
Many thanks to RunVermont for capturing this beauty of a race photo...
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