Race Recap: 2015 Philadelphia Half Marathon

Hello and happy post Thanksgiving it's Christmas time how did that happen? time! I know that I have really neglected the blog and it's a goal of mine to get back to it on a more regular basis.  I have so many thoughts and blog posts in my head, but making the time to write isn't happening right now.  It will.  

But I have a race recap!  On Sunday November 22, I ran the Philadelphia Half Marathon.  It's the first race I've done since the disastrous New Jersey State Marathon in April ... April!!!  Just about 7 months to the day even.  After that race -- actually during that race -- I realized I had lost my racing mojo and needed to take a break.  A break from racing, not running.  I allowed myself the Summer and Fall to just enjoy running (and a tiny bit of biking and an even tinier bit of swimming) and run for the love of it without a training plan.  I had signed up for the Philly half a long time ago because, at the time, I thought it would be a good first race to start my Boston Marathon training.  When Boston didn't happen, I knew I'd still run Philly because it's such a great race at such a perfect time of year.  And frankly, after training for full marathons for so long, training for a half felt a lot more fun and more manageable.  It is.  I won't and would never say training for a half is "easy", because it is not, but it is definitely less onerous than training for a full.  I truly enjoyed training and only did what I wanted to do: long runs and a mix of shorter runs.  No speedwork.  No hill repeats.  No intervals.  This was to be about fun and what I love, and while those things truly work to make me a stronger, faster runner, they do not make me very happy.  

My "training plan" for the half, such as it was, enabled me to focus on the pure joy of running and why I was doing it in the first place.  It was just what I needed.  And I found that the more I ran and focused on the race, the more I really wanted to race.   It was a feeling I hadn't felt in quite a long time.  Races had become part of the drill ... something that I did, versus something that I really wanted to do.  So this shift alone was exciting for me.  Oddly enough, I did not feel the competitive urge to hit a certain time or to get a PR.  Of course, I wanted to have a strong, fast race, and I wanted to get a new PR, but I also knew I wasn't in tip top fighting running shape, so a great race of which I could be proud was the number one goal.  

Something very sweet happened in the start corral that showed me that just that would happen.  Backing up first, ever since my friend Maggie died eight years ago this December, when I run in the Autumn, I try to catch a falling leaf in my hand as I run.  When I do, I like to think it's a little nod from Mags.  I don't know why, but it's what I do and it makes me feel her presence, and oddly enough, it happens quite a bit.  As I stood in the corral on the Ben Franklin Parkway in Philly, I was thinking about my race and how I would run, when a leaf fell right on my head.  It was so random and so weird because I was on a street in Philly, not in a wooded trail.  I liked to think it was Maggie bopping me on the head saying "just have fun."  And have fun I did!

I raced this one in 1:53:38 [8:40/mile pace].  Certainly not a personal best, but it was a really solid, strong effort and I truly did love every moment and every mile of this race.  Initially I thought I would try to follow the race plan I used for the Philly Love Run in March 2014, but after a few miles, I decided to just run by feel.  Even though my race was not my fastest, the miles ticked off faster in this race than in any I have ever done.  So much so, that unlike in past races, I cannot really remember vivid detail of each mile.  I was so happy to be running and surrounded by other runners that I focused on the experience versus details.

The last time I ran the Philly Half was in 2011 and my life was completely different then.  So was my running.  I raced that one in 2:06:15 [9:37/mile pace].  This year I was 114th of 824 women in my age group, 936th of 6,595 women and 2398th of 10,903 overall.

Here's a list of my splits (these may be a little fast because my watch had me at running 13.15 miles ... but I am too lazy to figure out the differences and they're not that far off):  

Miles 1-6 -- I just remember feeling so happy and so fast!  Initially I wanted to run these miles between 8:25 and 8:30.   There is no feeling like running down the Ben Franklin Parkway at the start of the race with tons of people cheering you on.  It was a very warm day for the race ... I was happy to be in just a tee shirt.  With each mile I looked at my watch and thought, ok, good mile, keep it up.  I was surprised at South Street - this was the first year where it was pretty empty.  It's usually filled more with spectators.

Mile 1: 8:33
Mile 2: 8:38
Mile 3: 8:16
Mile 4: 8:23
Mile 5: 8:22
Mile 6: 8:32

Mile 7 is my favorite.  It's the absolute best.  You run up Chestnut Street essentially the entire length to Drexel.  And it is packed - three people deep - with people cheering.  This mile is almost always my fastest mile on this race for that reason.  You can't help but feel like a running rockstar on this mile.

Mile 7: 8:10

Miles 8-10 are rough.  Mile 8 is a hill at Drexel, and while it's not particularly steep, it is super long and seems interminable.  What helps in this mile is it's very populated with college kids, most of whom are drinking (and offering) beer.  So fun.  Mile 9 is near the zoo and has a couple of little hills.  Mile 10 is the doozy - a huge, steep, long, punishing hill to the Please Touch Museum.  It's the hardest, and the last, hill on the course, and the reward is my running club (including Amy and Bill!) are at the top handing out water, Gatorade and gels.  Knowing that my good friends were at the top made me inspired to get up that hill ... and it was awesome to see them.  They told me where they would be, so I stayed to that side and got huge high fives from them when I saw them.

Mile 8: 8:59
Mile 9: 8:38
Mile 10: 9:07

Miles 11-13 are back on the flat ground and are straight to the finish. I was happy to rally and hit my usual 8:30ish pace.  The photo is about a half mile from the finish.  I was pushing hard here!

Mile 11: 8:26
Mile 12: 8:25
Mile 13: 8:38
Mile 13.1: 7:54

As I got closer to the finish, I looked at my watch and knew that a PR was out of reach.  I was totally OK with this.  My inclination at the finish is always to push it as hard as I can, but this time, I decided to just hold the pace.  An extra thirty seconds-minute wouldn't make a difference, and I wanted to just soak in the sights and sounds of the finish line.  I always try to turn off my music and listen to everything, and this race was no exception.  I love that feeling of seeing the finish and hearing all the cheers and cowbells.  And because I finished before the first full marathon finisher, Mayor Nutter was still on the half marathon side to give high fives to finishers!  I got a nice high five from the outgoing mayor.  Woo hoo.  

What a great race!  And look at this medal! A little Liberty Bell that actually rings! It rings!  It was hilarious walking back to my car because of the pure cacophony of hundreds and hundreds of ringing medals!  The full marathon finishers got the bigger red one and the half finishers got the yellow one.

This was my last big race of my 30s, and what a way to go out.  I'm allowing myself a full on sleighride of no pressure fun through the holidays, but come January, I'll resume swim-bike-run training.  Nothing Ironman crazy, but I am looking forward to the variety again.

PS: playlist time! I created a new, fantastic playlist for this race.  This one is a little heavy on Chicago and Lionel Richie, and very light on ABBA.  Enjoy! I sure did!  My notes in italics!

1812 Overture (Finale) (London Philharmonic Orchestra) don't laugh - it will make you feel like a winner!
A Horse With No Name (America)
All Out of Love (Air Supply)
Annie's Song (John Denver)
Bad, Bad Leroy Brown ( Jim Croce)
Break My Stride (Matthew Wilder)
Can't Hold Us (feat. Ray Dalton) (Macklemore & Ryan Lewis)
Do You Hear the People Sing? (Les Misérables Original London Cast) 
Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? (Chicago)
Double Dutch Bus (Frankie Smith)
Down (feat. Lil Wayne) (Jay Sean)
Dynamite (Taio Cruz)
Emotion (Samantha Sang)
Feels So Good (Chuck Mangione)
The Gambler (Kenny Rogers)
Hard to Say I'm Sorry / Get Away (Chicago)
I Can't Hold Back (Survivor)
I Got a Name (Jim Croce)
If I Had $1,000,000 (Barenaked Ladies)
If You Could Read My Mind (Ela Wardi)
If You Leave Me Now (Chicago)
It Takes Two (Rob Base)
It's Not Unusual (Tom Jones)
It's the Same Old Song (Four Tops)
Knowing Me, Knowing You (ABBA) this was the last song that played at the race, which I loved, as it's my swim song and the first song I sang at the Ironman (and every other tri) swim start.
Let It Be (John Denver)
Let It Go (Demi Lovato)
Let's Hang On (The Four Seasons)
Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now (Starship)
Oh No (The Commodores)
One Moment In Time (Whitney Houston)
Party In the U.S.A. (Miley Cyrus)
Philadelphia Freedom (Elton John) gotta have this song at a Philly race
Push It (Salt-n-Pepa)
Reflections (Diana Ross & The Supremes)
Sailing (Christopher Cross)
Saturday In the Park (Chicago)
Shake It Off (Taylor Swift)
Sloop John B (The Beach Boys)
Take Me Home, Country Roads (John Denver)
The Tears of a Clown (Smokey Robinson & The Miracles)
Theme from "Greatest American Hero" (Believe It or Not) (Joey Scarbury)
This Is It (Kenny Loggins)
Truly (Lionel Richie)
Weekend In New England (Barry Manilow) I love to run so much to this song I played it twice.  sure did. may have even run with emphatic arm and hand motions.  
While You See a Chance (Steve Winwood)
Working My Way Back to You (Spinners)
You Are (Lionel Richie) sigh ... love this song.  love lionel.  
You Give Love a Bad Name ( Bon Jovi)
You May Be Right (Billy Joel)
You Shook Me All Night Long (AC/DC)
You're the Inspiration (Chicago)
(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher & Higher (Jackie Wilson)

Race Recap: 2015 Novo Nordisk New Jersey State Marathon

Hello hello.  Happy Tuesday!  I rarely (ok never) post on Tuesdays, but I haven't been making time for blogging lately.  Part of that is because I've been avoiding this post.  I am usually so super excited to recap a race here on the blog ... but this one ... not so much.

On Sunday April 26, I raced the 2015 Novo Nordisk New Jersey State Marathon.  Even though I qualified for Boston back in October at the Steamtown Marathon, I wanted to really "seal the deal" and run a marathon even faster to guarantee I could run at Boston in April 2016.  That was the plan going into New Jersey:  I would train all Winter and early Spring, get faster, and boom! I'd PR and run the marathon around 3:40.  Ah ... the best laid plans of mice and men.  Needless to say that did not happen.  It didn't even come close to happening.  It the opposite of happened.  And I have a lot to say about it, having had two full weeks to think about it and learn from it.  So, I'm going to split this post into two parts: part I - the race recap (which will be replete with photos) and part II - my take-aways.  Sit back, grab some coffee and a small delicious treat, because this is gonna go on for awhile.

Part I:  Race Recap  

I'll give it all away up front with a screencap of my splits and final time:

Yeppers.  4:03:15.  That's the second slowest stand-alone marathon I've ever done (I don't count IMLP).  It's the slowest marathon I've run in years.  And it was a freaking battle.  I'll get into that in Part II, but man.  Oooooooooooof.  Oof.  

My training was totally on track until I got the flu about 3 weeks before the race.  That laid me flat on my back and unable to train.  My training runs after the flu weren't that great.  So going into the race, I was not very confident.  Still ... I had put in the hard work and thought I might be able to do it.  My race plan was to run the first 3 miles at 8:30 pace and then drop to 8:20-8:25 and hold it for the rest of the race. 

And then God laughed.  My paces steadily get slower and slower with each mile. 

Miles 1-3:  8:24, 8:26, 8:26

I held the pace.  I felt really good.  I did a systems check at mile 3 and thought to myself, "OK ... you can push a little faster."  So I did.

Miles 4-8:  8:22, 8:12, 8:28, 8:19, 8:27

These miles were great.  I remember running over a little bridge around mile 6-7 and I felt all gazelle like and powerful and happy and strong.

Miles 9-11 - 8:29, 8:34, 8:39

Yah.  I was starting to feel it a little.  I convinced myself I would just slow a wee bit and then make it up at the end.  Once I hit mile 11, I started questioning this wisdom and was really tempted to bag the marathon and just finish at the half.  

Miles 12-13:  8:50, 8:54

I am usually feeling so super strong at miles 12-13.  Not so much here.  I just kept thinking how I still had to run another half marathon.  Not the right mindset.  No way.  And these were the last miles where I'd see an 8 as the first digit in my time.

Miles 14-20:  9:19, 9:09, 9:24, 9:22, 9:48, 9:28

I don't remember much about these miles to be honest.  I know I was miserable. I was tired.  My legs were tired.  I told myself I could walk through any water station that was around and tried very hard not to walk otherwise.  I also allowed myself to walk for as long as I wanted through the aid station. 

Miles 21-23:  9:38, 10:19, 9:44

OOF.   

Mile 24:  11:06

I can't use words.  How about pictures from this mile

That is not the face of a happy runner. 

Miles 25-26:  10:39, 9:30

Once I hit the final mile and could see/hear the finish line, I rallied a bit and tried to run as hard and strong and fast as I could.  Here are some final pictures of me nearing the finish.  

And then in the finish chute ...

Pictures are definitely worth a thousand words.  If ever race photos told the story of a race, it is these for sure.  I can read the pain, disappointment, resignation and just plain unhappiness on my face.  

Part II:  The Take-Aways

I will forever consider this race my "Tale of Two Cities" Marathon, or more precisely the Tale of Eight Cities Marathon, as the course winds through a bunch of shore towns in the Northern New Jersey beaches (Oceanport, Monmouth Beach, Long Branch, Deal, Allenhurst, Loch Arbour, Asbury Park and Ocean Grove).  But geography aside, looking back, I can't help but think that the race was one of contradictions, just like the beginning of one of my favorite books,  A Tale of Two Cities.  

It was the best of times ...  the first 10 miles

It was the worst of times ... pretty much everything else.

It was the age of wisdom ... at the end when I decided to cut myself a freaking break and look at the ocean and relish the fact that I was alive and able to run a marathon

It was the age of foolishness ... that I didn't really trust my body and go by the signs it was showing me those last few weeks in training. I started way too fast.  

It was the epoch of belief ... there was a moment early on when I believed I might actually do it.

It was the epoch of incredulity ... the moment at mile 24 when I realized it was impossible to run a sub 4:00 marathon.  Unless I sprouted wings.  Or roller skates.  

It was the season of Light ... the start and that hopeful anticipation.

It was the season of Darkness ... mile 20 when the woman on the side of the road cheerfully said, "you're almost there!"  MURDEROUS RAGE NO I AM NOT!!!!  

It was the spring of hope ... there was a brief shining moment sometime between mile 15 and 20 when I thought I might rally.  I might do it.  I might ... no.

It was the winter of despair ... mile 15.  I took my first walk break.  I have never had to walk that early in a race.  And I looked at my watch, and looked at the mile marker and thought "Goddamn.  This is just like labor with a second child.  I know what to expect, having been through it before, and I know I have a lot more pain, and a lot more time to go, before this is over."  And then I realized that I was comparing running to childbirth.  And I wanted to cry.  

At the end of the day, I just didn't have it.  I don't know what happened.  Believe you me, I have wracked my brain to figure it out, and I can't.  Yes, the flu set me back, but I cannot believe that a week of not running would destroy my fitness after all the hard work that I'd done over the Winter.  I do know that on my last two long runs, I finished them completely gassed - my lungs were tired and my legs were tired.  The lungs didn't worry me.  I know that the lungs take awhile to recover from the flu.  But the legs?  This wasn't my first rodeo and I knew that my legs should be feeling really strong - and nothing like they were feeling - that close to race day.  

I think, at the end of the day, I lacked the heart.  As much as I wanted to convince myself that I wanted to do this race, I wanted to PR, I wanted to run fast, etc. etc. etc., I am not sure my heart really felt that way.  And if I've learned anything in sports or in life generally over the past few years, if your heart isn't in it, there's no point.  The heart just doesn't work that way. 

Amy sent me a text with about two weeks to go and I saved it.  I had expressed to her my concern that things just didn't feel right.  And she said this:

The marathon is two weeks of healing and strengthening - mind, body and soul - away. You've got the legs and the lungs.  Now for the heart.   

She was, of course, spot on right.  And while I tried to get my heart into it, the heart doesn't want what it doesn't want.  Deep down, I knew I had already BQed.  Deep down, I knew my Steamtown time was good enough to get me into Boston.  Deep down, my heart just wasn't in it.  And I was tired.  

It's hard to admit that.  But I am. I am really tired.  Not of running.  But of the hamster wheel of races and training that I happily put myself on over the past 3 years.  It's hard to admit that I'm tired of racing because I've heard cautionary tales and warnings time and time again about burn out.  I didn't, and don't, want to play into that.  But in complete and total candor, it is very hard to go from Ironman! BQ! Racking up PRs like they are beads on an abacus! to a string of pretty good, but ultimately disappointing, races that fell short of the times I expected or that I've seen or that I've come to expect over the past few years.  So far, 2015 has been that kind of year.  It's been frustrating and challenging in so many ways.  Rather than continue to be frustrated and feel like training is a chore and I'm spinning my wheels or moving backwards, I'm taking a little break from it and will just swim, just bike, just run and enjoy.  

I will completely admit that I wanted to quit this race.  Many times.  At mile 11, I seriously considered turning left at the split, doing the half marathon and walking away with a decent time.  I almost did it.  But yelled at myself to do something to myself that was anatomically impossible and went right.  Every time I passed a police car on the course, I was so tempted to run over, say "I am quitting. Please take me to the finish line." But I didn't. I kept on going.  I learned that while my heart may not have been in that race, I still had guts and grit -- and a lot of them.  I learned what it felt like to race on those two things alone.  It isn't pretty.  It isn't easy.  But I did it.  I showed myself that I had some serious mettle.  

At the end of the race, in that final mile, I went from beating myself up about a crappy, hard fought and disappointing race, to realizing how completely ridiculous I was being.  I thought about my cousin who just passed away and my friend Maggie who died a number of years ago, and realized that I was being so selfish, stupid and spoiled.  Here I was, on a stunningly beautiful Spring day in a beautiful spot, with the ocean in my sights, finishing my 7th marathon and I was sad and mad because I was not hitting a time that I thought I should hit -- how utterly dumb and myopic.  I forced myself to look out into the ocean and soak it all in and be thankful for this amazing life that I get to live and this incredible thing that I did. And somehow, the photographer managed to catch that moment.

And then as if that moment were not enough, I followed another runner to the finish line.  It was obviously that person's first race and while I normally try to gun it to the finish, in this case, I hung back a bit, so that the first timer could have a moment at the finish without me busting through and ruining the shot.  There's nothing like seeing someone cross a marathon finish line for the first time.  Here's the picture:

What you cannot see is right after this picture was taken and we crossed the finish line, that first timer ran to the side of the chute to his mother, who was waiting for him.  The two hugged and just collapsed into joyful sobs.  That ... that is the heart and soul of the marathon right there.  You can't fake that heart.  And I wouldn't ever want to.  It was honest, pure and raw emotion.  It was pure heart.  I'm ready to get mine back into the sport that I love, and seeing that moment at the finish line showed me that I am not there yet.  I'll get back there again, but I know I can't force it.  In the meantime, I'll remember that finish line moment that was not my own but which profoundly affected me and reminded me how much I truly love running.    

Race Recap: 2015 Frostbite Five Miler

Ahhhh ... Monday Monday.  Monday after freezing cold and ice Monday.  March sure did come in like a lion, so I am holding onto hope that it will go out like a lamb.  Tomorrow would be awesome. 

But despite the freezing cold temps, I had a race this weekend! The Frostbite Five Miler in Ambler, PA.  I've run this sucker a bunch and I like it because it's a true apples-to-apples comparison of performance since the course is the same.  Only this year, I think it's an apples to oranges comparison with past races because coach had me do an 11 mile warm up.  The big race (NJ State Marathon) is just 8 weeks away, so Saturday was just another long run day.  Last year, I managed to break 40 minutes, which put my pace in the 7s, which thrilled me given how hilly it is, and I was hoping that this year I could do the same.  That didn't happen, but I'm still pretty pleased with my performance.  

Here's a little history of my times:

2012:  42:28 (8:30 pace)

2013:  40:51 (8:10 pace)

2014:  39:35 (7:45 pace)

2015:  40:30 (8:06 pace)

Sure, I didn't break 40 (so close!) and I didn't beat or tie my time from last year, but even with 11 miles in the tank, I managed to beat my 2013 time.  That's not bad at all.  And in order to keep it simple, I just ran two loops of the race course and then tacked on an additional mile at the end.  My running buddy Tina met me at 6:45 (the race started at 9:00), so we were able to run that course twice and had about 20 minutes before the gun went off.  Perfect.  

It was ZOMG freezing when we started running our 11 miles at 6:45.  I think the temp was about 15 degrees.  It was so cold that my water bottle (that I wore on my fuel belt) froze.  Still, it was a lot of fun and it's always good to see the course conditions.  I forgot just how hilly this course really is!  

What's funny is if I look at my splits from this and last year, there is a definite pattern, which says a lot about the course!

Mile 1:  7:38 [last year: 7:41]

Mile 2:  7:32 [last year: 7:48]

Miles 1-2 are not bad.  There are a few uphills, but there's a lot of down.  I felt like I was flying down these hills.  I looked at my times and was like yes - yes - yes hold on to this pace. You can do it (put your back into it).

Mile 3:  8:15 [last year: 7:57]

Mile 4:  8:04 [last year: 7:46]

Mile 3 is a doozie - it's very uphill and the hills are long and really tough.  Mile 4 isn't easy either.  A bit of a break but still more hills.  You can see how even last year my time slowed on mile 3 and rebounded, but not as fast as the early miles, on mile 4.  I knew when I saw those 8s that I was in trouble.  Because Mile 5 is the hardest of all.  I tried to push and make up some time, but I was just done.  My legs would not go any faster.  

Mile 5:  8:26 [last year: 8:09]

What I remembered as a "gradual" uphill is actually a very challenging hill for a good 1/2 mile.  I saw my watch and knew that a sub 40 wasn't happening, but if I ran hard, I could come close.  You can see my face here - I wanted to finish strong:

The coolest thing about this race was that when I crossed the finish line, a woman in purple behind me came up to me, gave me a high five and then hugged me and said "THANK YOU! You paced me the entire race!"  I had no clue.  But damn ... that made me feel good.  Who doesn't like to be a rabbit?

So, I'll consider this one a bit of an anomaly in terms of results.  And I'll keep on keeping on with the training.  I have to hope that when the weather turns, I'll feel better about running. Right now I feel a little off my game.  

Just a head's up that there won't be a post on Wednesday.  This weekend was cray.  I have a bunch of half finished projects but had zero time (or inclination or motivation) to do them this weekend.  

See you swoon,

Race Recap: 2015 Austin Half Marathon

I raced the 2015 Austin Half Marathon in Austin, Texas on Sunday, February 15.  It was the most challenging half marathon I have ever done - more challenging than Cesar Rodney in 2012.  Why was it challenging?

Hills.  Humidity.  Heat.

Well, it wasn't *hot*, but it was about 55 degrees at the start and warmed up even more.  I'm not used to that kind of weather.   The hills on the course were relentless, and I completely underestimated them.  They don't call it Hill Country for nothing!  And race day was very humid. Add to those conditions, I had a kind of angry belly.  Things weren't 100% right and I'm not sure why.  But the race is what it is, and I'm glad I did it and really glad I finished.  This picture of me at the finish pretty much sums up the effort.

I finished in 1:52:36, which is the slowest I've run a half marathon since 2012.  Ouch.  Still, with that time and an average 8:36/mile pace, I was in the top 7% of my age group and among women (48th of 665 and 361st of 5124, respectively) and the top 14% overall in the race (1,258 of 8,846).

My race plan was to run the first mile at 8:20, then miles 2-6 at 8:10-8:12, then miles 7-8 at 8:00 and then go by feel and either hang on or really put the hammer down and race.  Obviously, that didn't happen.

Mile 1:  8:28

Mile 2:  8:27

Mile 3:  8:19

Miles 1-3 were up a pretty steady, but not too punishing grade, hill.  Mile 1 was also really crowded.  I didn't worry much at this point about my paces being slower than the plan - I had to take the hill into account, and that definitely slowed me down.  I figured I could make up some time on the next few miles, which appeared to be all downhill.

Mile 4:  8:17

Mile 5:  7:48

Mile 6:  8:01

And I did.  I was able to let it go a bit and coast down some of the hills.  Even though I was heading down a hill, around mile 5, I just felt off - I wasn't at the top of my running game and I could feel it.  I wasn't enjoying the race.  I wasn't enjoying my music.  I was just running.  

Mile 7:  8:18

Mile 8:  8:29

Miles 7 and 8 were supposed to be fast - like 8:00 miles.  It wasn't happening.  There were some hills here (because hills were everywhere!) and I would lose steam.  I realized at this point that I wasn't going to hit the time that I really wanted unless I pushed super hard.  I had to make a decision: I could either really race and push myself to the limit or I could continue as is and treat this as another training run.  I did a sort of systems check of my body and determined that the latter was a better idea.  My stomach wasn't right, my breathing was a bit labored and my legs were not feeling very fresh or strong.  I listened to my gut (uh, kind of literally) and decided to scale back.  I thought that if I held on to mid to low 8s, I could come close to beating my current PR.  This picture was taken around mile 8 of the course.  Not a happy runner.  

Mile 9:  9:01

Mile 10: 9:04

Ba boom.  I haven't seen a 9 minute mile pace in a half marathon in a long time.  I was not happy when I did here, but I also could feel myself slowing.  There were hills again in these miles - pretty steep ones.  This is the point in the race when I took it mile by mile.  Around mile 9, I wanted to stop running and walk.  And then I turned myself into Nikki from Save the Last Dance and got all up in my own face and was like NO and turned on my resting runner bitch face ...

and refused to let myself walk.  I told myself to get to the next mile and see how I felt.  So I did.  I hit mile 10 and felt OK - not great, not awful.  I told myself just get to mile 11.  

Mile 11:  8:43

Mile 12:  8:56

Mile 13:  8:51  

Even in sparkles, I wasn't very sparkly.  I felt a little better in the last three miles - mainly because I knew it was almost over and I knew I could do anything for 2 miles.  I looked at my watch, did the math and knew hitting under, at or near my PR wasn't happening.  I also knew hitting under 1:50 wasn't happening.  I did figure out that unless something crazy happened, I would at least finish under 2:00.  

I came around the bend and saw my friend and her daughter - seeing their faces gave me a huge boost to finish strong and fast.  And to do what I do best: react with an incredibly and impossibly dorky smile and wave.

And then back to business. I am looking at my watch with contempt and disdain. 

But this smile after the finish is actually real because I was so so so happy that the race was done!  And the photographer was hilarious.  

I feel a little bratty, but I'm just not thrilled with this race.  I know that's part of the sport - I'm not always going to PR, and there will be really tough races where I walk away feeling a little defeated.  I'll mope a bit and then move on.  

But my time in Austin was terrific! I stayed with my friend, her husband (who ran the full marathon) and their daughter and they were wonderful, gracious hosts.  I got to hang out with other friends in Austin as well, which was wonderful.  And ... look at this weather.

I did a training run in a tank top in the sun!  In February!

I drank beer and ate yummy food with friends at the Hula Hut outside along the water! In February! 

I went to a bar that had tons of specialty, house made donuts and got one with cream cheese filling, fruit on top and cream cheese frosting!  And then had a Texas IPA!  !!

The trip was really wonderful.  And I think I'd like to run Austin again.  Now I'm prepared for the course.  

Next up is the Ambler Frostbite Five Miler in two weeks.  And at the end of March is the Love Run half marathon.  I've done both of those races before, so I can get a real apples-to-apples comparison to past performance and see how I'm doing. 

See you swoon,

Race Recap: 2014 Philadelphia Marathon

Hello!  I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  And week before Thanksgiving.  Today I'm recapping the 2014 Philadelphia Marathon!  I paced my friend of 33 years - Heather.  She did it!  

I wanted to recap this race last week.  I hadn't planned on taking a week off of the blog, but a funny thing happened after I ran the Philadelphia Marathon last Sunday: my body completely shut down.  As in ... shut the heck down.  Over and out.  No fighting.  Just shut down.  I am usually the Energizer Bunny, but this is what happened:

I guess once I crossed that finish line, I knew that all my goals were met and I could finally rest. Ironman? Check.  BQ? Check.  Pace Heather at Philly? Check.  A few days at home with my family made me feel so much better.

And now I can recap the race!

I've watched Heather as she began running years ago.  She started with the couch to 5k program.  And then ran her 5k.  She decided at that 5k that the next year she would do the half marathon at that same race.  And she did.  She's gotten faster and stronger and has fallen more and more in love with running as the years went on.  She and I talk often (and a bunch about running of course) and she was toying with the idea of doing a full marathon. We agreed that for her first full, I would run with her on race day.  I helped her develop a training plan that was about 4-5 days of running per week: one long run, one day of speedwork and some other runs in between.  We also decided to adopt the Ironman marathon training plan that my coach used: rather than run the whole thing, we would do 9 minutes running/1 minute walking repeat.  Heather trained for months and come race day, she was ready.  And so was I!

Race day weather was picture perfect, especially for late November. It was in the upper 30s at the start at 7:00 am, and gradually warmed to the mid-50s later in the race.  Sunny but not hot.  No wind.  No rain.  A runner's dream.  

We got to the start pretty early (but that's better than the alternative) and used the bathroom in the Four Seasons for a bit.  Around 6, we worked our way to the start and found our corral.  We had some time to kill, so we do what runners do: we found the porta-potties and got in line.  The porta-potties said to make a line in front of each unit, but the people in line did not do that and had created this long snakelike line.  The women next to us decided to go rogue and start our own line, arguing (with good reason) that if we actually paid attention to the signs and made lines in front of each unit, the lines would move faster.  We followed those rogue women and used the porta-potty after them.  Yes. 

We got in our corral and waited and waited and waited.  Finally, the gun went off at 7:00 am.  We finally hit the starting mat around 7:15.  And we were off!  

The first few miles were pretty non-eventful.  We took it nice and easy and controlled in the beginning, which is always difficult.  We agreed to stop at the second sets of porta-potties,  Unfortunately, the line for these was pretty long, but it moved quickly.

With that out of the way, we ran/walk/repeated for a few more miles.  On South Street, some guy with an enormous American flag passed us. It was surreal because the flag was waving all over us.  We were like ok dude, it's cool that you're running with a flag, but the flag is invading our personal running space.

We were really looking forward to mile 7 on 16th & Chestnut Street, as Heather's family was there.  Unfortunately, we were looking on the wrong side of the street for them and because of how busy that area is with spectators, we missed them entirely.  We were both pretty bummed, but my boss/friend Sandy was waiting at 19th & Chestnut Street, and we easily spotted him.  His high five gave Heather a huge boost.

After Chestnut Street, we hit 34th, which is around Drexel University. This area is a lot of fun: tons of college kids are out cheering (and drinking ... and offering drinks to runners).  It's also a pretty prolonged but not too steep hill.  And it is also the scene of what I like to refer to as Bonk Breaker Gate.

Heather's choice of fuel for her long runs is a Bonk Breaker, which is a bar.  Heather had cut her Bonk Breaker into small pieces and had cut just enough for the race.  I could use words, but I like pictures.  Here's what went down. 

First, I heard Heather say "ARE YOU SERIOUS."

I turn around and see what happened.  The Bonk Breaker was in the middle of 34th Street because some dumb woman bumped into Heather and knocked it from her hand.  Imagine the below is on the street.  

The woman who bumped into Heather was all ...

And Heather was like ...

And I was like ... 

The offender ran away but Heather really wanted to do this.  

Snafu aside, we had a real problem.  Heather had just enough food for the run, and when the woman knocked that piece out of her hand, she was one 100 calorie bite short.  Not good.  We agreed that she should keep eating and at the end, we would deal with the nutrition. We said bad things about the woman who knocked the bar out of her hand too.

We knew at this point that at mile 10, once we got to the top of the huge hill by the Please Touch Museum, that we would see Amy and Bill, who were volunteering at the water stop up there.  We saw them ... and they were another huge boost to Heather.  Amy jumped up and down so we could see them, and Bill ran along side of us for a little bit and it was funny and fun.  Bill and Amy later showed up at the finish line with Sprites for us.  Yes! And thank you - we didn't even ask for the Sprites.  I am blessed with great friends.

After the water stop, we were nearing the half way point.  We found Heather's family, which she absolutely needed. Her kids were so excited to see her and she was so excited to see them.  We stopped a moment and then ran past and headed out on Kelly Drive for the second half of the race.  About a mile on Kelly, her dad and step-mom were there cheering for us, which was a huge surprise!

We saw some amazingly funny signs at this race.  My absolute favorite was this one:

I saw it and was like ZOMG I LOVE IT.  It literally took all of my self-control not to steal that sign.  So clever. So cute.  So kitten.  There were also a ton of pictures of just cats.  I liked them too.  Some other signs that I enjoyed:

* You're my heroine. And by heroine I mean inspiring woman, not that I want to inject you and then listen to jazz

* Smile if you're not wearing underwear (with a pair of enormous cheetah print underwear tacked to the sign)

* Tired? Blame Obama.

The miles on Kelly ticked off pretty fast, just as they always do.  We hit my least favorite part of the race - the weird out and back on the Falls Bridge. Heather didn't mind it that much.  I did.  The best part of this segment was the music that was playing - Will Smith and House of Pain.  Thank you!

Heather and I headed into Manayunk and she was struggling a bit.  We talked about what was happening, and I suspected she needed some food.  As usual, the folks in Manayunk were handing out oranges.  Heather took one and instantly perked up.  We grabbed more and she felt a lot better.  The oranges gave her fuel and boosted her blood sugar a bit.  That was just what she needed.  

Once we got out of Manayunk, it was the usual four mile slog back to the end.  I have to say - this went so fast!  I was really surprised.  We were walking a bit more, so I made up for it by having us run longer intervals.  When Heather was running, she was nice and strong, so I rationalized that the running would be fine.  

At some point around mile 24, a woman was there alone with a cow bell.  A little down the road, a group of women were cheering.  One said, "You get a medal! You get a medal! You get a medal!" a la Oprah and the cars:

On an otherwise very quiet part of the course, this was such a huge boost.  We finally hit mile 25.  I knew at that point that things would turn around fast.  Heather was feeling just like you should at mile 25: tired.  She said she just wanted to finish strong and happy.  I knew she would ... we just had to get closer.  We saw Boathouse Row and then the crowds picked up.  We finally hit the Art Museum and then could hear and then see the finish line.   

Heather's entire face changed and the tears started.  She increased her pace to the mid 9:00s and beamed and smiled through that finish line.   Our final time was 5:28:19.  

Her family was so proud.

With good reason!  She did it! 

Running by her side for 26.2 miles was amazing.  It was truly inspiring and wonderful to be with someone as she reached her dreams and did something that she once thought was impossible.  I was, and am, so proud.  

We went through so many emotions and moments on that race - highs like the start and the finish, lows like Bonk Breaker Gate and Manayunk ... and every mile and every step in between.  We laughed and cried together.  We yelled at each other (in an encouraging way).  We struggled and persevered.  And in the end, we did it and crossed the finish line side by side.

Heather is still on a high from the race and is super happy and proud of her experience there.  I hope that whenever life gets lifey and hard, she can look back to that day and remember that she can, and will, do anything.  I am so, so proud of my friend.  

See you swoon,