So… I’m back. And when I say I’m back, it should also be noted that I’m about to take it easy. Whiplash yet?!
Let me backtrack… when last we met, I believe I was still slaving away at the thesis, dating Fred, looking for a job and chilling on the running because North Carolina in the summer isn’t the best for avoiding heat. Now, the thesis is done, degree in hand, Fred… is still Fred but not mine, details on the latest version eventually, back to looking for a job, and yes, almost about to take a break from running because its already 60* at 7am nowadays.
I got back into running in September. Yeah, no clue why I got back into it when it was SEPTEMBER and still suuuper warm, but I knew I needed to get back into some sort of routine. Maybe there were even a few cooler days that gave me hope?! I stopped writing stuff down, so who knows. What I did discover was that I was faster! I hadn’t lost the “speed”, but I could go faster! I started back on KR’s 10k plan, and then got boy whiplash and thought that maybe I’d ratchet it up to a half marathon in…January?!
But FIRST! The roomie, the mom and I dressed up like fools for a Turkey Trot 8k on Thanksgiving Day. What better way to make sure you won’t gain as MUCH weight from the turkey and stuffing and pies than to rev up the metabolism before all the goodies?! I tried to rev up quickly for a couple of halfs in January, but shin splints, traveling for Christmas and the realization that apparently yes, at 25 is when your body decides it wants to break down led to 0 half marathons for January.
Except… you see… I’d done something crazy on Thanksgiving Day, darn post-race endorphins! But let’s keep this chronological! Having conquered my own 8k, I volunteered to mentor for Fleet Feet’s 8k Training group. Making it even more fun?! I knew I’d have someone to drag, I mean, keep my company twice a week. The roomie had gotten into running, starting with the couch to 5k plan and was ready to go be faster, stronger and generally more bad-ass!
So, with our first run a chilling 2 miles on a Tuesday evening in January, the roomie and I were off! We were both in the 11-13 minute/mile pace group. I started off being comfortable at the back, but as the weeks progressed, I sometimes had to be the mentor at the beginning of the pack. Those 11 minute miles got trimmed to 10:30s and shorter, while talking, and before I knew it, it was the last week of January which meant…
MY half marathon training started! On Thanksgiving Day, I’d signed up for the first NC Half Marathon at the Charlotte Motor Speedway. There were a few other races in that general time frame that I was considering. I figured late March would mean it would still be cool, maybe rainy, but warm enough to run without 50 million layers. The one I’d originally had my heart was soon ruled out. Never underestimate the power of bad word of mouth!
The roomie’s friends had heard that my “target race” was on a great course, but the people running it didn’t know what they were doing. Messed up logistics? Yeah, that sounds like a recipe for disaster at my first half. Plus, that was the race where KB got injured and was a hobbling fool for weeks afterwards. I started looking around and, having family near Charlotte, figured that driving 2 hours to go race was totally sane, so why not?!
I did the 8k with the training group, rocked it, but dear heavens, the HILLS around here! I realized I’d pushed myself more than I planned to or remembered when I went to go run the next day. It totally did not happen. I think I did 2 miles, and cried like a baby for the last mile. Always great walking into the house and explaining to your boyfriend that, despite being out for 25 minutes, you only went 2 miles and yes, your face is caked in snot and tears, Cosmo’s surefire way to attract men!
At this point, I had to juggle the Runner’s World half training plan I’d been following with what my body would physically allow me to do. I did most of my long runs, but my mid-week runs weren’t as long or as fast or inclusive of the speed work as I would hope or plan for. The two “perfect” examples were the 8 mile run that didn’t happen and the 10 miles of pure suck. The 8 mile was supposed to happen on a Thursday evening, about 2 weeks after the 8k. I’d run 2 miles on my shin splints the Sunday before and knew that if I could just get 5 minutes in, the pain would just be numbed and dull and I could power through.
Except… I couldn’t get out of my own head. This is a seeeerious problem for me, but that night, I just panicked, didn’t want to keep pushing through the pain, yelled at my training partner (aka dear sweet willing to mess up his workout schedule for me boyfriend) for always staying 2 steps ahead of me, not by my side, and other random thoughts just took over and I was DOA. I maybe did 2 miles? And that was it. Buried the thought of that run, shook it off, moved forward.
A trip to the beach that weekend threw a huge wrench in my 10 mile plans for that weekend, so I decided I was still on shin splint recovery rest, and had a much better and motivating 2 mile run with the bf and a dog that can actually run! (Yes, I still love Lucy, but the gremlin rebels at walks up hills, she can’t pace you for 2 miles!) There was still another weekend to do a 10 miler, so I marked on the calendar in Sharpie, planned out a challenging but scenic route, made sure the phone with music was charged and headed out! At 10 am... when it was really sunny…with plans to just get water/Gatorade at random gas stations and fountains along the way…and some darn evil hills…and a part with just the side of the road, no sidewalk…and one of the most stressing things that could happen to a girl less than 48 hours old … I did 10 miles.
Did. I didn’t run the whole way. Might not have run even half of it, but Huck (so bf has a nickname, its “Huck”…continue on) refused to let me turn around unless it was on the route. He let me walk some, took pictures of the snakes on the sidewalk near the arboretum, downed the world’s best Gatorade at mile 8, looked at me like a CRAZY person when someone that I knew (but didn’t explain to him that I knew) stopped to give us water, but most of all kept me moving and reminded me WHY I was doing this and that I was doing this for ME and HE was doing this for me, darnit! That’s love, ladies and gentleman.
They say awful training runs set you up for some pretty awesome races. You know, sort of like how awful dress rehearsals in band or for a play get out all the suck, so that all you have left when it counts is the awesomeness you have inside of you?! Well… today was awesome. There were signs that said “embrace the suck” but I didn’t, because there wasn’t any left. I’ve had some pretty awful days since the shin splints reared their ugly head, and not just because of running, but the kind of days where you have to consciously and deliberately remind yourself that its just a bad day in a good life, or an awful day in a flipping AMAZING life, focusing on the positive, working on the parts of your life that you CAN control. Today, I blocked it all out.
The butterflies grew noticeable as I was standing in line waiting to pee when it was 7:26 and the race was scheduled to start at 7:30 and I didn’t know exactly where to line up. Thank heavens for lightning delaying the start! Oh yeah, by the way, tooootally saw lightning driving into the speedway. Not scary at all! But, I peed like a champion speed demon, found Huck, and found my way to the start line, my pacing group and started the music, after taking a picture or 2, of course, and posting it to Facebook. Priorities!
There was a lot of “ok, run YOUR race, know YOUR goals, forget about the people around you, they didn’t train like you, their shins don’t hurt like yours, they might just be faster than you, this tank needs to last you longer than anything you’ve prepped for so its okay to be conservative now” running through my head for, oh, 2 miles?! I ran into people I knew at the first mile marker, had someone else talk to me shortly after that, and my mood was just ON!
The music was great, I ran into more spectators and runners that I knew, and at mile 6, picked up a running buddy. BJ was walking, but I told him to get back to running, he was almost through the worst parts! We ran into mile 10 together, when he peeled off for the bathrooms. He and I had the same goal pace, and were both super excited to not be crawling (yet…or do I?! keep reading!) and setting personal distance records with every step we took. Reason #918 I love running- you can make new friends mid-race and make 5 miles feel like a walk in the park.
Other highlights include:
kid with the sign that said “slap sign for extra power boost”- I hit it twice!
Running over US 29 on a pedestrian bridge that had some bounce to it. Later found out that a few years ago, one of those bridges collapsed! Seriously excited I didn’t know that before the race!
I was on the 4th mile when I saw the eventual winner, and he was in mile 9. Yeah…he did it in half my pace, but he didn’t look as happy as I did across the finish line and he probably didn’t get as many hugs as I did!
I never. Stopped. Running. No walk breaks. NONE! I told myself to get to 10 miles, and once I got there, I pulled a mental switcheroo and said “enh, you only have a 5k left, no walking, suck it up!” and it worked! Personal pride, determination, not just to say “I didn’t walk” but also to just get this thing DONE with were amaaazing motivators!
The course went around the NASCAR oval, then out around that track, around the dirt track and down and back over the drag strip, around the outside of the NASCAR track then, and this is the cool part, you ran through the tunnels to get onto the asphalt again. Something SUPER chilling about running through a tunnel, and then emerging to the light and lots more spectators and a finish line that, yes, is 2 miles away, but that you can at least SEE!
And last…but oh.my.goodness…not least. I smiled I ran across the line, and I cried for a second because I was done, I did it, in 2 hours and 27 minutes, without walking, and hey, here comes a super awesome medal. Seriously, this medal has cars that move and LED drag strip lights that do the countdown. I got my picture taken, grabbed food, found Huck, and just reveled in the glory that was my first completed half. Yeah, I said first. This might be a regular thing!
Every muscle in my legs is on fire, my upper abs even took a turn at being in pain, but the pride of what I did makes it all worth it. The medal is hanging on my door right now, but I need to find a place of honor to hang it in my room. Yeah, I’ve got my master’s, but right now, the accomplishment I’m the most proud of culminated with two and a half hours on a Sunday morning in Charlotte. Maybe it’s the post race endorphins, but dang they’re good and strong, and I wouldn’t trade my hobbling body for the world right now!
…pictures to come!
Here’s to the next TV timeout,
Syd
