Boston 2013

It is finally time for me to add my chapter to the big, huge story that is Boston 2013. Believe me, I have tried to write this post over and over again, but I haven’t been able to find the right way to talk about my weekend – how to address the terrible situation that will forever define such a venerable and beloved marathon, how to describe the wacky, bizarre 3 hours and 28 minutes that was my race, and how to share the truly amazing weekend full of love that was all the hours and days before and after those horrible moments on Monday, April 15th.  Hopefully this effort at articulating all of those disparate events will be successful enough to convey my thoughts.

I think it is really only right to address the bombings first, before I get to the wacky, the bizarre and the fantastic. Like everyone else who was in Boston on marathon Monday, the bombings rattled me to my core.  I was, more than anything, numbed by the shock that this could have happened. While many felt immediate sadness or fear or alarm, I just felt numb. And frankly, I think that I may still feel that way. As a self-professed optimist I just cannot begin to comprehend why anyone would choose to carry out such a horrific act. That said, I also was acutely, instantly awed by the response to the bombings. I was amazed by the rapid and thorough response by the emergency responders in Boston. The bombs went off while Ellen and I were retrieving our car from an underground garage and by the time we were above ground emergency vehicles

Of all the photos from the week
in Boston, this one of a cop
delivering milk to a Watertown
family on lockdown is one of
my favorites.

were streaming by. Before we left the city over a dozen police cars, fire trucks and ambulances sped by us on Beacon Street. Nine big old unmarked, tinted window-ed, lights flashing SUV’s careened around me while I was stopped at an intersection. During the 3 short miles we were on the Mass Pike I counted over 20 emergency vehicles flying towards the city, sirens blaring. When I passed the National Guard building, not 30 minutes after the blasts, the parking lot was teeming with uniformed folks ready to load up and head into the city. And so on. The city of Boston has always been proud of its emergency responders and on Monday (and throughout the week) they demonstrated to the world why they had earned that pride. 



I have also been mesmerized by the innumerable stories of civilians, regular folks like you and me, who ran towards the explosions, right into a melee of severed limbs and blood and screaming and crying, who pressed their hands onto ruptured arteries and who removed their belts and shirts to make the tourniquets that saved a stunning number of lives. We Americans are not always the best at looking out for one another but these folks showed us all how it should be done.

On a personal level, I was absolutely dumbstruck by the outpouring of love, concern and support from my  friends, family, acquaintances, the friends of friends, the family of friends…you get the picture. Never have I ever received so many texts, emails, phone calls, tweets and Facebook messages. (Just yesterday I received a lovely card from Ellen’s Aunt Rose, whom I have never even met!) And even though I was unable to personally reply to them all, these communications all collectively meant the world to me. It fills my heart to know that on such a terrible day over 22,000 runners plus all those observing all likely experienced a similar outpouring of love and concern from their personal communities. 

But even with all that bravery and help and love and support my heart still breaks for a few specific groups of people. Obviously I am deeply, deeply saddened for the families who lost loved ones last week. I cannot begin to imagine their grief. I am also distressed for those injured and their families; so many of them have incredibly long and arduous roads ahead. But I have spent most of my week heartbroken for 2 groups in particular. First, the families of the victims of the shooting in Newtown. Some of these brave families came to Boston to witness a celebration of their loved ones. They were seated in the grandstands at the finish line to watch runners complete the 26th mile, which was dedicated to the 26 victims of Newtown. Instead, they witnessed a horrible tragedy when the first bomb exploded directly across Boylston Street from them. I simply cannot imagine their trauma. Second, I am grief-stricken for all the folks who witnessed the bombings and walked away without any physical injuries but with a depth of psychological trauma that many Americans cannot imagine…especially the children who suffered these wounds. As a mother of an anxious child I cannot even fathom how challenging it will be to help these children and adults negotiate the invisible trauma they experienced.  I hope that all of these folks will experience an outpouring of love and support that far trumps what I received on Monday but that lasts for all the days and weeks and years necessary until their hearts and heads have healed.

It would be far too easy to end this post here; to let the bombings be the story of the entire trip. But, as many other folks have already said, to do that would be to let the young men who planted the bombs win. So, if you will stick with me for a little bit longer I would like to tell you about the rest of my trip to Boston.

before and after the race we
sported our BCTC jackets,
as did Alex Varner (on the right).
But he got to put his back on
much sooner than us: he ran 2:21!

all excitement before the bus ride

First, let's talk a little bit about the marathon itself. As seems to be the 

norm for me, I spent the week before the race fretting about whether I would be able to start, or finish, the whole 26.2 miles. After a completely uneventful training cycle I managed to tweak something in my left glute 8 days before the race. I ran all of 6 miles the week before the race, promised my coach to stop if I felt that I was doing damage that could mess up my season and greeted Monday full of contingency plans. After all that, the glute was the least of my issues. While it did harass me on and off throughout the run, the real problem was….well, everything else. You see, on this particular Monday every single thing that has never happened to me in my 10 previous marathons happened. In one race. It seems impossible, but it really happened. From the moment the race started I felt “off”… a little dizzy and woozy. At mile 3 I took my first sip of water and my stomach did some backflips. Despite this, I soldiered on and took a gel at mile 6 as planned. Instantly my stomach rebelled and began to ask for a bathroom trip. I patiently waited for it to calm down, but at mile 9 I knew that I needed to defer to my knotted up GI system. I reluctantly parted ways from Ellen, whom I was pacing, and my teammates Kara and Nancy. As I sprinted off towards a porta john I promised I would find them when I got back on course. After emerging from the bathroom (only about 45 - 60 seconds later) I sped off in search of them. They were running 7:45 pace, I was running 6:24. I figured I would catch them within a mile. Or not. I ran and ran, all the way through Natick and up into Wellesley, searching the crowds of runners around me but never finding them. Distraught, I 

SO happy to see Tessa
and Blazer, just past
the Wellesley scream
tunnel

stopped in Wellesley, first with my dear friends Tessa and Beth for about 2 minutes, then  for another 7 minutes with the fantastic Oiselle cheering section in front of GettiGear. No one had seen Ellen. We scoured the crowd but didn’t see her go by. Finally I started up again, only to discover that I needed to go to the bathroom a second time. As soon as I emerged from THAT porta john I received a text from Tessa telling me that the athlete alerts put me 2 minutes ahead of Ellen at 20k. I had passed her in my mad dash to catch up. With my “rest” breaks in Wellesley I had crossed the halfway mark (21k) 7 minutes behind her. Honestly, at this point I was utterly demoralized. I had completely failed in my pacing duties. Ellen, Kara and Nancy had run right by me at some point and I hadn’t seen them. But I gathered myself together and sprinted off, hoping beyond all hope that I could catch up. And then, minutes later, a side stitch set in. It was bad enough that I simply couldn’t run through it; I had to walk it off. More time down. I stopped in Wellesley Hills to talk to my amazing friend Mary Mazzio to see if she had seen Ellen…no dice. Side stitch behind me I dashed off towards the Newton Hills. I charged up the hills as best I could, trying to make up time. Finally, at about mile 20.5, I came upon our Saucony rep Jeff Caron, who saw me and shouted my name. Once I registered that it was him I turned around, ran back, and asked where Ellen was. “5 minutes ahead” was his answer. Less than six miles to go and I had 5 minutes to make up. I just didn’t think I could do it, but I raced off once again, determined to try my best to catch her so that we could at least, maybe, finish together. I charged down the backside of Heartbreak Hill and…my calves began to lock up. Big, painful knots just took over where the muscles had been moments before. Somehow, instead of freaking out I was able to convince myself ease off a little bit…just enough to get the knots to loosen up so I could keep ploughing along. Over the course of the next 4 miles I fretted about Ellen, I considered just throwing in the towel, I decided not to. That cycle of thought dominated my brain so completely that I barely remember this portion of the race. And then, at mile 24.5, I looked ahead about 100 meters and saw some orange compression socks. But unlike the dozens of other sets of orange compression socks I had seen along my frantic journey, these ones were topped by a Oiselle singlet and magenta arm warmers. ELLEN! I had done it! One last sprint and I was even with her. As relief flooded over me my first words were “I’m here. Can we walk for a minute?” Thank goodness she obliged; otherwise she would have dropped me instantly. :) While I will never get over the disappointment I feel in not being able to pace and entertain her through the bulk of the race, I cannot put into words the joy I felt in being able to run the last 1.7 miles and cross the finish line with her. 

Looking back, I honestly cannot believe the day I had. I ran 26.68 miles (extra distance for weaving around people and sprinting to and from those bathrooms) and stood stock still for at least 9 minutes of my "race time".  I had almost every physical glitch one can experience in a marathon befall me, but despite it all I still finished. Right next to Ellen, just like we had planned. I am obviously extremely sad that the whole race didn’t work out anything like I had anticipated, but honestly, a week later I can’t do anything but laugh when I think back on it. The marathon is about as unpredictable as it gets and this particular race was my own personal reminder of that fact.

Now, onto the last chapter…the fantastic parts of the weekend. Because really, in so many ways it was an incredibly special weekend for me. First, I got to go to yet another marathon with my running BFF/top notch travel partner Ellen. We just have so. much. fun. We are also both shameless running geeks...fans of the 

hanging out with the incomparable Meb

sport and all its stars. So imagine our delight when we spent some time wandering the mall and chatting with Meb, whom I invited to my house just before he gave Ellen some kick ass marathon advice. 

Oiselle teammate Lauren
Fleshman, her lima bean
and us

We hung out with the delightful Lauren Fleshman, who is absolutely as cool in person as you could possibly imagine. I had tweets favorited by not one, but TWO Olympic athletes whom I respect and admire (marathoner Kara Goucher and 1992 Olympic rower, documentary filmmaking badass and, full disclosure, friend, Mary Mazzio). I spent time with 4 of my most favorite people on earth: my college crew co-captains Inga and Amy who graciously hosted us and my spectacular friend (also from Mount Holyoke crew) Tessa and her amazing partner Beth. 

Some of my nearest & dearest:
Amy, Inga, Beth, Tessa & Ellen

I got to meet and get to know a bunch of my Oiselle teammates, who all proved to be even more delightful in real life than on the internet. I experienced some awesome unanticipated benefits of having sponsorships while out on the marathon course as people shouted “Go Oiselle!” and “Go LUNA!” as I ran by. Each time that happened I felt a little more determined, a little bit stronger and immensely proud of my affiliation with these fantastic companies.

evidently if you send Kara
Goucher a pic like this...

you get this in your inbox!

As if all that weren’t enough, after 22 years I was reunited with the four phenomenal women who were my varsity four (crew boat) in high school. A celebration of the 35 year career of our coach Andy Harris happened to take place on the Saturday before the marathon and Ellen gamely trekked with me out to Southborough to meet up with my coach and rowers. The evening was amazing ... an event packed with folks whose lives Andy had made better with his quiet, paternal, expert coaching and his love of the sport. But the absolute highlight of the evening for me was being reunited with my varsity four, most of whom I had not laid eyes on since high school graduation. If you are not familiar with the sport of crew let me explain a few things. I was the coxswain (or "cox" which is both a noun and a verb): the on board coach, strategist, mom and steering wheel. The four immensely tall women you see below were my rowers; the engines. Their job was to propel the boat by moving with fluid strength and in perfect unison. All together, a boat basically has one heart. A good boat is intensely connected on the water, operating as one unit. And, as I have learned, in a good boat that connection - rower to rower and between rowers and their coxswain - remains a constant off the water and, at its best, never goes away. I can't quite put into words how joyful it was for me to be back together in one room with these women: although we are all now grown women, scattered around the country with unique lives, as soon as we came together we were instantly, once again, the St. Mark's varsity four of 1991. These women and Mr. Harris were really collectively responsible for stoking my passion for the sport which still in many ways defines who I am. If that makes no sense to those of you who are reading this and know me as a runner, perhaps it will become more clear when I tell you that one of my rowers (upon hearing that I had trained alongside Ellen for months and was planning to pace and entertain her through the marathon) exclaimed “oh! Now you cox runners!”  It had never occurred to me that this was the root of my love of training and pacing other women, but when it was said it instantly made perfect sense. I may be a runner nowadays but I will always be a coxswain at my core. 

St. Mark's 1991 girls varsity four, all grown up:
Katrina, Emily, Kara, Charlotte, me and Andy Harris

Before, during and after the bombings that will forever define this weekend in history, I experienced a weekend full of love and support beyond my wildest dreams.  I really believe that this love provided a foundation for me on Monday that allowed me to contend not just with the wackiest marathon I have ever experienced but also with the awful aftermath created by the bombings. I am also intensely proud of the loyalty and love that the running community and the people of Boston have shown towards those directly affected by the bombings. Both runners and Bostonians are, by nature, incredibly tough and this was demonstrated last Monday and in the week plus that has followed. As I wrap up this post, I would like to implore you to remember that while the acute memory of the bombings will fade for many of us, the physical and emotional scars will last a long time for many others. My hope going forward is that somehow we can all continue to find ways to send love, support and assistance to the hundreds of folks who lost their loved ones, their limbs or their sense of safety in Boston.  Even a small fraction of the love and support shown in the last week will make a world of difference to someone still struggling with this tragedy. Whether you make a financial donation, give blood (I understand that NOW, after the acute emergency has passed, is the time to give), or simply give your time and attention to listen to someone still struggling with processing the events of the day, we can all keep working together to ensure that these 2 young men don’t ever win, don’t defeat the spirit of our communities and that, instead, love wins.

To donate to the one fund, please click here:
https://secure.onefundboston.org/page/contribute/default

To find out how to donate blood in your community, please click here:

http://www.redcrossblood.org/make-donation

 A few more gratuitous scenes from the weekend:

Fab Oiselle teammates Rebecca, Paulette, me, Ellen and Meghan

A little pre-race Bull City love from Ellen,
me and Kara!

In the ocean of runners passing
through Wellesley

A Teamwork Tale

This weekend, for the first time in a year and a half, I laced up my shoes to race a half marathon. As you can probably guess, the long lag time between races of this distance had me a little nervous. If that weren't enough, I STILL have some of the laryngitis/chest cold symptoms from the cold I contracted the week before Disney Princess and I have just been exhausted and not sleeping well for the whole week leading up to the race. Needless to say the sum of these factors was that I spent the week before the race vacillating between being incredibly anxious about the race and figuring that I had enough strikes against me that the pressure was off because I was going to run a time somewhere between unremarkable and disastrous. When I signed up for the race I had 2 goals in mind: don't walk (more on that later) and, hopefully, sneak in under 1:24:59. I honestly wasn't sure that I had either goal in me but I also knew that the only way to find out was to prepare as best I could and give it a go.

Despite my concerns going into the race, I was also really excited for the weekend. As usual, Ellen and I were traveling together but this time we were also joined by a bevy of our Bull City Track Club teammates. I had travelled to Kentucky with Rachel, Jen and Caren and knew that I loved spending time with them; as a bonus our fab store owner Kim was racing as well. It was exciting to be going to a race with such a big team of women and that anticipation balanced out at least a small amount of my anxiety.

In the few days before the race I began implementing pertinent elements of the soon-to-be-patented Ellen and Allie official marathon (and now half marathon) prep program. I guzzled down improbable quantities of electrolyte-laced water, tried to sleep extra, ate A LOT (mostly carbs, taking an exciting break from my regular mass quantities of veggies) and fell asleep nightly with visions of my weekend packing list dancing in my head. 

Saturday morning finally rolled around and after a shakeout run/race-planning session with our Oiselle teammate Allison and some delicious crepes and coffee Ellen and I hit the road for Wilmington. Both the drive and bib pickup were extremely easy and before we knew it it was time to cheer for Kim's husband Jason as he dominated the 5k. Then it was off to dinner and some emergency last-minute St. Patrick's Day accessory procurement, green nail painting and finally, bed. Unlike most pre-race hotel stays I was able to sleep like a log but before I knew it 5 a.m., and race day, rolled around. After a hearty pre-race breakfast of bagel with nutella (thanks Caren!), lots of water and a LUNA Lemon Zest bar, it was time to go see what I had in me for the day.

We started the day with a walk/jog/History of Rap part 4 dance party on the way down to the start. Unfortunately we we having too much fun to work in much of a warm up and I was a bit unsure of how this was going to affect me. Before we knew it the time had come to drop our bags, line up, assess the competition and go!

pre-race (post walk/jog/dance party),
sporting our fab new Oiselle
spike bags and our lucky shamrock
hair clips

Although I was still completely unsure about how race-ready my body was I had decided upon an aggressive race plan: start out at 6:25 pace and try to keep it up as long as possible and run with Jen and Rachel. Jen is a 2:55 marathoner. Rachel is 13 years younger than me and beat the pants off of me at XC Nationals. I am a soon-to-be 40 year old 3:19 marathoner. You can see why this was maybe a hair brained plan. Nonetheless, 6:25 pace suited both of their race plans well also and I was delighted at the prospect of running at least part of the race with teammates. 

A few things about this race before we get into the mile-by-mile recap: the weather was perfect - high 50's, little wind. The course was almost completely flat save for 2 very small bridges and a few rollers in the residential neighborhood. And the race support is AMAZING. The water stops are all manned by alumni clubs of local universities and they compete for the title of "best water stop". They were probably the best organized and most consistently enthusiastic aid stations I have ever run by! I really have nothing bad to say about the race organization and the course. If anyone reading is looking for a fab half or full in the spring, I would absolutely recommend this one.

Okay, back to the running. Once we got underway I was surprised by how good 6:25-ish pace felt. It certainly wasn't as easy as I would liked it to have been but from the get go the pace felt decidedly manageable. We went through mile 1 in 6:23. Early in the second mile we passed the only 2 other women in front of us and the 3 of us merrily picked up the lead women's bike and charged ahead together. Mile 2 was a little quick, in 6:12, but I got a bit worked up about getting over the bridge so I know I rushed a little. We settled down in mile 3, hitting it in 6:25. (That said, this was the mile when my watch began beeping early. It beeped early for the remainder of the race and came in at 13.23 miles. I am sure we didn't run the tangents perfectly but it was interesting that the gap between my garmin's account of the course and the course markers happened mostly in one completely straight mile.)

Mile 4 came up in 6:22, still right on pace and feeling good. Jen, Rachel and I were still running in a nice pack and I was enormously happy to have them there. I took my first Clif Shot gel (espresso, as usual) at mile 4.5. Mile 5, unfortunately, felt really hard and was a 6:18 split. I theorized that the problem was that energy was going to my belly to digest the gel and told myself that I would feel better in the next mile. For whatever reason, mile 6 did feel better. We hit the split in 6:20 and I marveled at the fact that we passed the 10k mark about 30 seconds faster than I had raced a 10k in last fall. This was a huge boost of confidence. We crossed the halfway point feeling good as mile 7 came in at 6:22. 

Unfortunately, the race was about to get a LOT harder for me. We entered the residential neighborhood in Wilmington and our pace started to pick up a bit. Before I knew it we were dropping miles that were much closer to my lactate threshold pace then my half marathon pace and that difference took its toll very quickly. My respiration picked up significantly as we went through miles 8, 9 and 10 in 6:15, 6:13 and 6:15. Rachel decided to make a go of it and scooted off at mile 8. Despite her cold and stomach flu she was running strong and I knew that she was aiming for a sub-1:24 so I was completely okay with letting her go. Jen began to chase her down at about mile 9.  While I truly wish I could have gone with her I also felt at that point that I was absolutely at the edge of my capabilities. (Of course, in retrospect I am beating myself up for not having run faster or tougher, but that is another story.) 

I tried to take a second gel at mile 9 and, for the first time in my racing career I was unable to choke it down. Looking back I realized that I was working incredibly hard but at the time I was just annoyed. I held onto it for a while in hopes that I would be able to nurse it down over time but then realized that all I was managing to do was get poop-colored gel all over my singlet and the back of my leg. With that I chucked it in a trash can and actually stopped for a split second in mile 11 to wipe the gel off my leg so that it didn't look like I had had an, um, accident. In the moment it seemed like a totally reasonable thing to do but as soon as I stopped I realized how silly I was and I just got my hustle right back on. Ridiculous, but funny in retrospect. Maybe the lesson here is that I should stick to vanilla gels later in the race. (I did also consider stopping to find out what the heck was causing pain under my big toe but fortunately I had the good sense not to stop, sit down, take off my shoe and examine what turned out to just be a blister mid-race. Guess I still had a little clarity in the final miles.)

Although I was starting to hurt, a lot, I was able to celebrate the fact that I went through the 10 mile mark in a time that smashed my old 10 mile PR by almost a minute and a half. The boost of excitement that brought was pretty brief though and I quickly returned to swinging between the feeling of "I am exhausted, I want to stop, I can't do this" and hearing Carrie Tollefson yell "Get After It!" in my ear over and over again. Regardless of how much I wanted to walk (which was a LOT) I succumbed to CTolle's signature phrase and just kept gettin' after it. Mile 11 was a pretty abysmal 6:26 and there were a few jogging-ish slow downs in miles 12 and 13 (both 6:22's) but, much to my delight I never walked. Not once. This, my friends, is a first in my half marathon racing history! As my energy flagged and I watched Jen and Rachel race off ahead of me I just kept reminding myself that the best thing I could do was keep running hard because then I would get the pain over with sooner. So on I trudged. Finally in the last mile I started to calculate where I was time-wise. When I realized that I could run the last mile at slower than 7:00 pace and still run a PR I felt enormously relieved and my energy picked up. This obviously didn't translate into a faster split but I sure felt better about myself.

If I didn't have proof, I
wouldn't believe it myself!

Finally, finally I turned the final corner and the finish line came into view. I had stopped looking at my watch at some point during the final mile and I just mustered the best possibly kick I could. The clock was over to the side of the finish line so I couldn't even see it until the moment I crossed the line...when it read 1:23:35. WHAT?!?! A 1 minute 54 second PR?!?! Honestly, even now, I don't know what to say. I was just in absolute shock.  At the beginning of the year I boldly (and foolishly, I thought) had stated that I wanted to run 1:23 for the half. I frankly didn't think it was possible, and I sure as heck didn't think there was any way I was going to do it this early in the year and yet there it was. In big, light up numbers on the race clock. Maybe I will just take the rest of the year off!

Podium sweep!
Rachel (1st), Jen (2nd), me (3rd)

When all the dust settled, Rachel had won (with a PR) with Jen hot on her heels (also in PR-time), both about a minute ahead of me. I am in awe of them that they were able to put a minute on me in those final few miles; as I slowed down they both sped up significantly. We were so giddy to have all PR'd and  swept the podium that the pain of the race disappeared almost immediately into my mental rearview mirror. And I am just indescribably grateful to have been able to run with, and then chase, such amazing, talented women. I knew even when I was out on the course that there was simply NO WAY I would have run the pace I maintained without them and I believe that even more strongly as I reflect on the race. I gathered so much strength from being in our group and I know that I have them to thank for my massive PR.

5 of the 6 speedy BCTC/Oiselle
women...missing 2nd place
finisher Jen!

Shortly after we finished our fantastic teammates came rolling in...first Ellen with Caren right behind her, both also in HUGE PR's. Very shortly thereafter Kim showed up, rounding out our perfect team PR streak. Somewhat improbably our entire group all had stellar days. We spent the next 1 and 1/2 hours celebrating our races with a big old dance party (and free beers, cookies and coca-cola) as we waited for the awards. Then we finally got down to the business of cleaning up, heading to the beach and eating. 

Post-race dance party!

BCTC bull horns...and beer. All the makings
of a good post-race celebration!

At the end of the day we all headed home happy and satisfied. Each and every one of us ran our absolute best, mostly for ourselves but also because we were part of a wonderful group and we all wanted to do our best for the group. Okay, also (as we all admitted) because we didn't want to be the one person who had a cruddy day. Two sides of the same coin as far as I am concerned. As Ellen and I drove home we remarked (multiple times) how motivating it was to spend the weekend with, and race with, such a strong, funny, positive group of women. I know that for many people running is a singular pursuit, but today was a wonderful example of why I love training with, traveling with and especially, when I am lucky enough, racing with a team. Whether we ran in a pack or covered the race distance without having a team member in sight we were still a part of a larger group and that team bond pulled us all along to the finish line just a little bit faster.

A confession

I ran a half marathon in a tutu. And a tiara. I, who may or may not have been known to have scoffed at folks who run in costume in the past, happily and willingly donned a tutu....a homemade tutu nonetheless...and a sparkly foam tiara and trotted around Disney World 2 weekends ago for well over 13.1 miles. And guess what? I LOVED it. Of course, if you were anywhere even NEAR Facebook that weekend you already know all about this, but for the few of you to whom this may be news, there you have it.

Carter and me in 1991
at our senior dance

Of course, here is the caveat. I didn't love running in the tutu and the tiara because they are awesome to run in. (In truth, the tiara was a non-event...I couldn't even feel it on my head. But the tutu was kind of a pain to run in. Those things are NOT built for speed!) But I loved running in them because it meant running alongside this chick ---------------------------->>>
my friend of almost 25 years, Carter. Carter and I were roommates when we were juniors in high school and have remained friends despite all of the miles that have separated us over the years and the vast differences in our daily lives. While I am now a running stay at home mom she is now a running OB/Gyn and mom of two. Her ability to balance all of that while keeping a fantastic sense of humor makes her one of my heroes. When my family and moved to N.C. a year and a half ago, we moved to this town and this state specifically because she was here...because I knew that (despite all the miles and years) by moving close to her my husband, son and I would have family to help us settle into a new life. In summary, Carter is a world-class friend and a totally inspiring woman. So when she decided that she wanted to celebrate her 40th birthday by running her first half marathon at Disney I was instantly 100% on board. Just watching her get ready for this race has been phenomenal...when I moved here Carter's standard run was 4 miles at about a 10:00 pace, but over the past 6 months her long runs have creeped up from 6 miles to 12.5 miles at sub-9:00 pace and her weekly mileage has doubled. She worked HARD and by the time the weekend rolled around she was totally ready to rock the half marathon distance.

This is the part of the blog where I will inundate you with photos and a little race recap of my first-ever "girls weekend". There is some serious running in here (skip to the 5k for that) some long humid sauna-like running (refer to the half marathon portion) and just some silliness (see ALL the photos). Here is how it all went down:

Tutu at RDU.
All the cool kids
are wearing them...

6:00 p.m. Friday: we headed down to Orlando. Ellen's tutu was a little too awesome for her suitcase so she treated all the travelers at RDU to a little tutu-preview.

Once we arrived in hot, humid Orlando, where the forecast was predicting 90% humidity and record highs all weekend (uh-oh) we immediately went to bed. Super thrilling, I know, but Ellen and I had BIG PLANS for Saturday. Unfortunately, while Ellen went right off to sleep I opted for the "stay up almost all night coughing and losing your voice" option. Sigh.

Pre-5k. Notice that it is PITCH
BLACK out there?!?!

3:40 a.m. Saturday: the alarm went off. By choice! Ellen and I got up and donned our Oiselle singlets, my LUNA tattoos and warm up shirt and our racing flats and headed off to the Happiest Place On Earth. While it was clearly still night outside of the park, as soon as we arrived at the race start it was freakishly daytime-like thanks to all the flood lights and the music. Lots of music. The Funky Chicken, YMCA, and the Harlem Shake, family style. (?!?!) We picked up our bib numbers and proceeded to run many, many loops of a parking lot as a warm up, eat my obligatory pre-race Clif Double Espresso gel and drink a lot of water in a futile attempt to replace all the sweat we had lost during the warm up.

6:30 a.m. Saturday: Starting gun of the Disney Family 5k. With this comes my only complaint of the whole weekend. If you refer to the registration information for this event it is listed as a 5k. There are results of other 5k's that are run in the RunDisney series. This 5k cost $60 and 8,000 people registered. Given all that info it stands to reason that this will be a race, right? Evidently it was wrong to make such an assumption. A couple of weeks before the race RunDisney sent out final instructions that included casual mention of the fact that this would be a "fun run with no official results and no awards". Huh?!?! I mean, I am all for the fun runs of the world, but I would have loved to have known that this race I had paid $60 for and was getting up in the middle of the night for wasn't a race! I have to admit, I got a little mad for about 5 minutes when I first read this info. But then I decided that I would still run it, at race pace, and use it as a mental toughness exercise and a time trial.

When the gun went off it instantly became clear that there were plenty of other people in the (seeded by pace even though this wasn't a race) corral who were determined to race this thing. Two girls got out in front of me and were running at what felt like a dead sprint. It was pretty clear to me that I wasn't going to be keeping up with that so I just tried to run my own pace. By settling into a manageable pace I was actually able to pick them both off by the 3/4 mile mark. And then I was alone. In the dark. Running around Epcot. It was SO WEIRD. The music was playing and there were flood lights and a few employees getting the park ready who would cheer a bit as I streaked by but otherwise I was just running along solo. I went through the mile in 5:50, feeling the effort and the humidity a bit, but my legs were still turning over well. Because of the humid conditions and my cold my effort level was definitely greater than it was during the hilly 5k I ran a few weeks ago (and that is saying A LOT) but thanks to the training I have been doing I was able to keep cruising along at the high effort. At about 1.5 miles in I briefly lost my focus and started getting lost in how hard I was was working, how tired I was, etc. Fortunately I got my act together pretty quickly and went through mile 2 in 5:48. First time I have ever been faster in the second mile of a 5k in my life! The third mile was, unfortunately, by far the hardest. Obviously I was getting tired, but then...I went off course. Ugh. There was a small area where the course just wasn't clearly marked and I followed the guy who was way out in front of me the wrong way. I figured it out pretty quickly, but I lost about :30 total with that mishap. Even without that little scenic detour behind the bathrooms this mile had the most twists and turns which didn't help my pace. I came through that mile (per my watch) in 5:58. Slower, but still under 6:00! Even though I was frustrated, a little tunnel-vision-y and just plain tired I ran my last .23 miles (not .12, but .23 thanks to my getting lost) in 1:05...good enough for an 18:50 finish time and first woman overall in the non-competitive fun run :) While it is definitely frustrating to run that hard and then have an inaccurate time due to getting lost, I was thrilled that when I converted my time to remove that extra distance I came out with an 18:10, which would be a new road PR by 5 seconds for me! I will spare you any race photos from this event because I frankly look like I am either about to keel over or have just received the shock of my life (thanks to the camera flashes because it was dark out!) in each and every one of them. 

Oiselle super-fan Joyce!
There was LOTS of Oiselle
and LUNA love in Orlando!

Ellen and me, post-5k.
Finally, the sun came up!

Once Ellen finished her tempo run (which garnered her a fifth place finish because her tempo pace is now totally speedy), she scraped me up off the pavement where I was waiting for her and we set off for our cool down. The cool down was interrupted by a delightful conversation with two New Balance employees, a Oislle fan encounter (hi Joyce!) and, of course, a few photo ops. By 7:30 a.m. we had been up for almost 4 hours, run 7.5 miles & were totally ready for a nap.

Lunchtime, Saturday: Time for the half marathon expo, which was punctuated by multiple visits to the fab ladies at the LUNA booth (I was able to replenish my stash of temporary tattoos) the purchase of light up shoelaces for Carter and the retrieval of my "elite" bib, which I found wildly entertaining for some reason.

Carter and me, all grown
 up and race ready!

The rest of the day was spent napping, relaxing by the pool, drinking lots and lots of electrolytes and eating. All massive luxuries for the 3 moms and 1 non-mom who works 7 days a week. It was bliss. I mean, I really missed my husband and son desperately. No wait, it was bliss AND I missed my husband and son.

cookies soften the blow
of a 3 a.m. wake up

3:00 a.m. Sunday morning and a new "wake up early" PR for all of us. Once again, I had decided to cough instead of sleep so I am not sure I actually had any waking up to do. Once we were all up we celebrated Ellen's 32nd birthday with the gift I had been busting at the seams to give her....personalized iced sugar cookies! These may be her most fave cookies in the world so it certainly started the day off right. Once again we set off for the Happiest Place On Earth, this time with 23,000 of our closest friends, in the middle of the freaking night. 

with the 32nd b-day girl
pre-race!

Once we ditched our race day bag and walked the 20 minutes to the starting corral area I decided to do a little warm up. The only area to run was a .10 mile stretch so I just ran down and back for 2 miles. By the time I was done I was drenched in sweat - at 5:00 a.m. it was 66 degrees and 90% humidity. With conditions like that I knew that it was going to be a long morning. Once I hopped back into the corral I quickly discovered that my "elite" bib meant that I was considered qualified to answer lots of questions on topics ranging from "how do I improve my half marathon time so I can get into the "A" corral" to "how do I turn on my heart rate monitor and GPS". Bemused as I was I was also extremely flattered at this perceived expertise and I was happy to help where I could.

5:45 a.m. The gun for our wave goes off. Confetti...sorry, fairy dust...shoots into the sky and fireworks rocket off. And finally so did we! Holy cow was it ever crowded out there though. As soon as we got going I realized that Carter and her college roommate Colleen were MUCH faster than the other women in our corral and so we commenced project "pass 3,000 other competitors. Nicely." There was a LOT of weaving (like .3 extra miles worth of it!). For the next two-plus hours we ran through a LOT of Disney parking lots, right down Main Street U.S.A., THROUGH the Cinderella Castle in the Magic Kingdom (which was actually incredibly cool and exciting), past just about every Disney character ever created, around the giant golf ball at Epcot and even past the site of my running off course incident of the day before. While I can't say that it was ultimately the most scenic race course I have ever run on there were some pretty exciting and entertaining moments. There was also a lot of humidity and unfortunately the combination of the humidity and all the weaving around people definitely took their toll on our overall pace. Despite all of that Carter pushed hard throughout the entire race and had a great attitude, even during the rough latter miles. And ultimately, 2 hours, 7 minutes, 35 seconds, 13.41 miles, 3 bathroom stops (thanks humidity), 4 discarded tutu sightings, a 4 Clif gel net gain and way too many men in bad princess outfits later Carter, Colleen and I crossed the finish line smiling and happy and Carter became a half-marathoner. I am immensely proud of her and incredibly grateful that I got to experience this whole journey to race day with her. I may have even shed a few tears. (Okay, I totally did.)

8:00 a.m. Best part of the day begins...cue the ridiculous, fun photo shoots. I am just going to let the photos do the talking here folks. But seriously, what's not to love? When you are wearing a tutu and a tiara you kind of need to live it up, right?

Usain Bolt. Well, sort of...

the MoBot

Ryan Lochte, eat your heart out!

10:00 a.m. We sit down to breakfast. We have been up for 7 hours, have run between 13.1 and 18.5 miles each, have been to Starbucks and some of us have even taken showers. We feel ridiculously productive and also pretty darn entitled to a few extra pieces of bacon. The rest of the day was spent eating, resting, walking around, eating. And eating. Which made it just about a perfect day in my book. 

So, to answer the question that I am sure is on everyone's mind at this point, would I wear a tutu and a tiara for 13.1 (13.41) miles again? While I can't say that I think it would be a suitable speed kit, if Carter asked me to I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Maybe you'll see us all at the decidedly less humid Tinkerbell Half in California next year...

Monkey off my back

If you have read the other posts on this blog, you will already know that I spent the majority of 2011 injured. If you haven't read the other posts on this blog, here is a brief recap: I spent the majority of 2011 injured. I strained my peroneal muscles on the outside of my right shin, caused my poor fibula to have to do a job it isn't designed to do and got myself into a nasty cycle of bone swelling and recovery. Finally, thanks to the mad skills of my 2 favorite sports chiropractors (Dr. Leo Kormanik in Cleveland and Dr. Jason Pirigyi in Durham) I made it off the disabled list and back into running. 

Just about the time I began running again I decided to go and get my USATF coaching certification. My husband kept asking me why I wanted to take the weekend class and get certified and I honestly didn't have a good answer for him. And while I did learn a lot, became more confident in the knowledge I already had and passed the exam with flying colors, the best part of the weekend was that I met my current coach. Andrew Allden is a totally experienced, seasoned coach and he agreed to take me on and get me ready to race as a masters runner. He has worked me like crazy these past few months! In fact, I ran 293 miles in January alone. For a girl who couldn't run much at all last year that was a pretty amazing feat. He has also pushed my speed to new levels. In the past 2 and 1/2 months my lactate threshold pace has dropped from 6:40 to 6:15. This transformation alone is enough to convince me that hiring a coach was the best thing I could have done this year as I can guarantee you that I would have never, ever pushed myself this hard (my LT pace would most certainly still be a comfy 6:40). While the work has been daunting at times it has also been immensely fun and rewarding to put in the work and see the improvement.

Of course, with this kind of training comes....racing. Two weekends ago I looked at my schedule for the upcoming week and I saw that Andrew had put a 5k on my log for the following Sunday. Cue the heartburn. Seriously folks, I was a wreck the whole week! Every single time I tried to think about the race my heart rate went up. It was ridiculous. But I knew I had to do it, both as a barometer of my fitness and to get the racing monkey off my back. 

Part of my no-fail
pre-race meal

After a week of track work, a hard tempo run and a long run on Friday with my good friend Carter (who is prepping for her first half marathon next weekend!) it was finally time to race. I can't say that I really tapered at all, although I ran an easy 12.5 miles Friday and an easy 4 miles Saturday. On Sunday morning I got up and headed out for a 3 and 1/2 mile shakeout run. The race wasn't until 2 p.m. so I knew I had to structure the day a little differently than a regular race day. Post-run I had a big baked sweet potato, a latte and I did a LOT of laundry. At noon I downed my favorite flavor of LUNA bar (lemon zest!) and packed up. 

I am very, very lucky to have a husband, son and friend who are willing to give up the better part of a Sunday afternoon to come to a race with me, so fortunately I didn't have to go to the race solo. Instead I had the awesome cheering section of D and my son Z and Carter came along to race as well. Just having them there took my anxiety down by a big notch. As we all piled into the car I began to feel a little more calm. Once we hit the road there was no going back, so the anxiety abated even a little more.

With Carter, my high
school roommate,
friend of 25 years and
a fab runner in her own
right!

And then, as we approached the race course, we drove up a BIG hill. Uh oh. I knew the course had been changed and was "on top of Dix Hill" but I really didn't know how big of a hill we were talking about. The answer was big. And the top of the hill was NOT big enough to accommodate a whole 5k on its crest. This was not going to be a flat race. During our warm up Carter and I got a nice idea of just how hilly the course was, but amazingly, instead of the hills making me more nervous they actually made me feel significantly more calm. There was NO way this was going to be a fast race so I just threw all of my attachment to pace and time out the window.

With the course preview done it was finally time to start. Just before I jumped into the start area my husband reminded me of my race plan (relax at the start, focus between 2k and 4k) and also reminded me that I tend to thrive on the uphills. Those reminders proved to be immensely helpful to me over the course of the race. I then quickly sucked down a double espresso clif shot for good measure, found my Oiselle teammate Allison, lined up and before I knew it we were off. 

Mile one: the start was downhill...for about 100 meters. We then turned, leveled off briefly and started a 1/2 mile or so uphill. As soon as the road pitched up the one girl ahead of me put on the brakes and I was alone in front of the women. This was a little daunting mentally but I just tried to relax and keep my effort in check. We finally crested the top, turned and started downhill. I thought about pushing all the downhills but very quickly realized that the prudent thing to do was to use them to recover unless I was in a situation in which I NEEDED to push. I hit the mile in 5:50 and felt surprisingly good.

Mile two: We continued downhill and then quickly headed back uphill, steeper this time. I passed a whole pack of men, which was entertaining. A woman cheered "first woman...er, first girl!" and I chuckled at the thought that she thought I was a generation younger than I am. This mile featured a lovely 50 meter out and back with a hairpin turn around a cone. Evidently this was necessary to allow the race to have the start and finish line at the same place. I think I would have voted to have just pushed the start line back 100 meters, the finish line forward 100 meters or some combo of the two. Running down a hill, slowing dramatically to go a round a cone and then having to accelerate back up the same hill is just not a recipe for speed. Mile 2 was still 5:53 however, so that is okay.

Mile three: Oh. My. Gosh. This mile started midway between the bottom of the hill and the top of the hill (where the finish line was) The first .2 or so was a steep downhill all the way to the bottom. Then we headed back up. And up, and up. At mile 2.5 we hit a ridiculously steep section then the course mercifully transitioned into a much gentler grade. I knew that I wouldn't get caught at this point so I did relax a little bit but I just kept pushing and willed myself not to walk. I was ultimately successful on both fronts and despite feeling like I was going to die I did manage to pass a few guys who were clearly suffering even worse. I finally hit the 3 mile mark in 6:05.

With the finish line in sight my legs felt like rubber but I mustered a kick (5:14 pace) and crossed the line in 18:34. I was totally spent but I had, for the first time in my 5k running history, really parsed out my energy well over the course. I hadn't looked at my watch since mile 1 and I was THRILLED with the time. I have been working my tail off lately, but I know from past experience that sometimes good training doesn't necessarily yield good race results. Not to say that I won't screw up a 5k in the future, but on this day it worked out for me and I
am grateful for that. I was also pleased that after the first 1/2 mile I was not passed by a single person and I managed to pass a ton of guys (I was 16th overall I think). For someone who tends to start fast and then struggle this was a big accomplishment. And really, more than anything, I was just so happy to be running injury-free and to have the "getting back to racing" monkey off my back! I can't wait for the next one this coming weekend (and it will be flat!!!). 

Carter with her age
group award!

Nice 1-2 finish for
Oiselle team NC! 

An added bonus...my Oiselle teammate Allison finished second and my friend Carter WON the women's 40-44 division. I have watched Carter develop as a runner this year and watching her discover her name at the top of her age group was probably the best part of my entire day.

So there you have it, the "first race back" check box has been checked. Of course, it isn't all puppies and roses in my running world: in the week since the race I have been reminded of how fickle the sport of running can be as I managed to both get sick and re-aggravate my temperamental popliteus muscle (for the 99.9% of you who don't have a clue what this muscle is, it is a small and obscure muscle behind the knee that can becomes appallingly tender when I overpronate, run in the rain and wiggle my foot in my wet shoe, etc.). But challenges like that are as much a part of running as having a great race and after a year off of running. Thankfully the illness is behind me, and with a little crackerjack active release work hopefully the sore muscle will be a thing of the past before this weekend's racing begins!

(P.S. Lest you worry that I
am taking my running too seriously,
my next race report will be
featuring this accessory...)