Saturday, May 28, 2011

$1.98 Gift, Lifetime of Smiles



Found out this weekend that somebody actually reads my blog! How do I know this? In a rare trip home this weekend, CT and I were treated each to a pink gift wrapped package. The contents of said package once opened......ONLY our medals from our last race! You know, the medals we didn't get from the previous blog entry (yeah, I know you didn't read it!).

I stand completely amazed that not only does somebody read my blog, but my Mom could use the internet to find us the official Susan G. Komen medals we should have received! I don't think I've ever seen CT smile bigger, but my favorite part was how excited my Dad was to tell me they were "only $1.98"! Forget about running a good race, getting a PR, the accomplishment, he's more proud of deal they got. That's my Dad.

I may have got second place in the last race, but I came in first place when parents were being handed out.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Race for the Cure - (PR)etty in Pink



What a difference a week makes. Even though it's a week closer to summer, the temperature dropped and it was borderline freezing. That was the unexpected change, today's Susan G. Komen 5K race brought back the emotion that my Marathon lacked last weekend. The excitement, nervousness, adrenaline...okay and hypothermia were all back for this race. Why? Maybe it's all because I knew it would be over so quickly. Maybe it's simply because my body will love me for stopping after three miles. Or maybe it's because this race had some purpose.

I have to be honest, I look damn good in any color! It does however, take a special occasion for me to not only dress in pink, but to make a trip to my favorite running store to specifically buy a female's pink shirt to wear...in public. CT's best friend's mom is fighting breast cancer and this was a special occasion to run to support her. CT's goal for herself was to place in her age group and give her the medal she'd win. After my second 5K last year, I set the goal for myself to place in my age group this year. I definitely wanted to backup CT in her quest, I've never placed, but figured if the two of us were going for it, it would only increase our chances. I know I've improved greatly from last year, but would it be enough?

21:18 a new PR (personal record) for myself! CT also got a PR for herself. When the dust settled, we checked our results to find that CT did in fact get first place in her division and I ended up second in mine. To say we were both ecstatic afterward, probably a bit of an understatement.

The final twist to the story, going to claim our medals, they hand us envelopes. How do they fit a medal in an envelope? Answer, they don't. Turns out the "prize" was a gift certificate. For a fraction of a second, there was some disappointment in both of us to find this out, but that was quickly replaced once we thought about what we accomplished today. Oh....and I was quick to point out, this was our first official payday for racing, we are (PR)o's now!

Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Kalamazoo Marathon, Mile 20



A Marathon is 26.2 miles. That's a hell of a long way to run, I think this blog entry could equal that distance when reading, so if you are still awake after all my ramblings, congratulations. It was even difficult to decide the title for the entry. Without going into the details of my thought process, what options I weighed, I'm simply going to say Mile 20.

Six months of training, 679 miles, for a total time of over 4 days (100:19:57 h:m:s to be exact) of running all to prepare for 26.2 miles on May 8th. It's been quite the journey even getting to this point as I stood at the starting line, emotions, could very easily be the theme. Before even committing to doing this Marathon, crazy and insane come to mind. Starting the training, I remember how unsure I felt, wondering if I could even complete six miles. I remember the exact spot where I experienced "runner's high" and I fell in love. Confidence and exhilaration with successes, then worry and doubt with injuries and setbacks. This final week, nervous. The moment is here, what do I feel? Nothing! Calm before the storm, all emotion used, am I numb? Every race up until this point, it was pure adrenaline at the start. Now, nothing.

In my mind, I had two goals: Finish and do it under four hours. The average time to finish a Marathon sits around 4:20 and who wants to be average? Not me. Once training started, a new goal crept up and suddenly 3:40 felt very realistic. I debated a number different styles as to how I would run this race. In the end I felt most comfortable starting out strong and I knew eventually I'd start to get tired, then at that point slow down my pace and finish. My fear if I started out slower, in the final miles when I am tired, I probably wouldn't have enough to make up the time I needed. There was also the thought of sticking with my partner, CT for the whole thing. We always seemed to help each other and it felt good knowing she was close by. The draw to run my first Marathon and get a 3:40 was too tempting. My strategy was pacing myself off of the pace groups. The pace groups were broken up to finish times every fifteen minutes, so 3:00, 3:15, etc. all the way up. I would find the 3:30 group, start with them, then as I got tired fall back and hopefully not drop any further than 3:40 pace back. Simple plan.

Now to the story. Eeeeeeeeeert goes the starting horn and three thousand people surge forward. We had been told to enjoy the excitement and the energy of the first two miles. Again, I felt nothing. I got CT settled with the 3:45 pace group, then I moved ahead and settled in behind the 3:30 pace group. Three miles in, it felt like a practice run, minus the six thousand pounding legs. Mile 5, started into Western's campus and was the second water stop. Mile 6, just leaving campus, I took my first GU. At this point my confidence started to raise, if felt like I was hardly using any energy and was completely comfortable staying with this group. Hmmmm, goal was 3:40, is 3:30 possible? The temperature was raising, but I had hardly even broken a sweat yet. Running along Stadium Drive at this point a water stop should be coming, right (because they are spaced about every two miles apart)? Just like my emotion before the race, nothing. The next water stop wasn't until almost mile 9. That seemed like a big gap in my mind, but I still felt fine.

Mile 11, now I started feeling some fatigue. Up until this point, I had been on the ankles of the pace group. I dropped back some for two reasons, the first being water was starting to be more important to me. This is called learning on the job, but there was a sizable group around the pace group and what I was finding is it was harder to get water because going through the water stops there was only so many volunteers with only two hands. I liked my chances hanging back some and helping my chances to get two cups. second reason, was simply the fatigue I was feeling. Up until this point, I was ahead of where I wanted to be, might as well save energy for the end.

The halfway point, still feeling pretty good. Up until this point, water stops were split, first half water, second half Gatorade. I don't know if they didn't get the memo or this is standard practice, but the water stop in this area switched it up and I downed two cups of Gatorade before I knew what I was drinking. I've never drank Gatorade all throughout training. Mile 15, my stomach was feeling weird. I knew my pace was slowing down, I had already lost sight of the 3:30 pace group. The downhill section of the course was coming up. Don't ask me why, it seems like that would be the easiest part, but give me flat and level every time! I knew I could coast some, but the down also puts more strain on everything, with what my stomach was doing this is the point I completely ditched the fantasy of staying with the 3:30 pace group and this is also the point where survival entered my mind.

Around mile 18, I saw a kid that was in my Run Camp group walking. I stopped for a moment and asked if he was alright and he said he started out to fast. We walked into the water stop, I did another GU and wanted to make sure I got good drinks of water. I wasn't feeling great, but in my mind if I could get to mile 20, all I had to do is add an hour to my time worst case and that would be my finish time and even that was being conservative. I got to mile 20 around 2:50.

Mile 20, here it is. This is the title, hence the real story of this blog and this Marathon. I had heard about "the wall", I even somewhat joked about it in a previous blog entry. My understanding, this was the term thrown out as the point when you didn't want to continue. In my mind, I defined it when everything hurts physically and it becomes a mental game to fight through it, if you want to quit or continue on. Probably naive on my part and cockiness because with my training I felt no real physical pain, but my definition of "the wall" was complete wrong and I was about to figure it out first hand. I could go out and grab the scientific explanation of "the wall" (I have since looked it up), but I'm going to sum it as a living, breathing, nightmare.

My legs stopped working. As the reader, you'll attribute that to of course they did, you just ran 20 miles fool. No, they stopped working. Breathing fine, heart rate fine, no physical pain, brain sends signal to legs to run and nothing....just like the emotional void before the race. So, now that's going on, lets enter the mental aspect. My brain is now in what I'd describe as a panic, "what's going on", "why is this happening", then it transforms. It just so happens that my Run Camp team leader runs by me at this exact moment, somebody who I always felt I performed better than throughout all this training. Defeat. Next thought, I ran almost this exact course a few weeks ago and did 20 miles and was fine. Confusion. Then the 3:45 pace group just passed me. Dreams of 3:40, gone. Somehow enough brain messages reach my legs and I keep up with the 3:45 pace group, at least I can finish with that time. Forget it, legs stop again. Again defeat. Wait, 3:45 that's where CT wanted to be, where is she? Oh no, she's struggling too. Worry. Why didn't I stay with her? Anger, fear. Check watch, only to see all the time I had built up to guarantee I finish under 4 hours, almost gone. Goals dying. It was a front row seat to watching dreams, expectations, hopes all go racing by meanwhile unable to do anything to stop them.

All of that took place in Mile 20 and I still had roughly 6.2 miles to go. Heart was still beating, but it felt like life itself had been sucked out of me. Somewhere between Mile 21 and Mile 25, I was able to feed off two familiar faces one from Run Camp who helped push me and told me finishing under 4 hours was still possible, the other from Gazelle's who had become a frequent acquaintance with all my trips to the store. Not too many details in this stretch because my mind was fried. People cheering "Looking strong" felt insulting because I knew I was neither at this point.

Mile 20 wasn't done rearing it's ugly head though. The home stretch, surely it will be possible to feed off the mobs of people cheering to make it the final half mile and finish strong. I had to stop twice with the finish line in site to walk. Embarrassment. It took one last Gazelle face to come up to me and ask how I was doing. I believe my response was that I'm dead. He said something along the lines of lets finish this. That was enough to do it and felt like the first true positive to the nightmare I was stuck in was coming to an end.

Up until this point, every race the pain has always stopped the moment that line is crossed. Six months of waiting and dreaming how good it would feel to cross the line, what did it feel like? Finally crossing it, it didn't feel empty like the start, instead I felt completely and utterly defeated. The accomplishment of finishing my first Marathon and even squeaking in under 4 hours, were completely negated by the mental anguish that started at Mile 20. Physically running that distance was by far the easiest part. I wasn't prepared for the mind games at all. Years from now, I know the mention of this Marathon, instantly is going to flash up images of how terrible Mile 20 was.

Thought you were done? Oh no, there's still story left. After crossing, was given the cool medal in the picture, grabbed a water than sat at the finish line waiting for CT. Finished my water, then asked if I could go back on the course. I walked back to where CT's sister (Downhill) was watching for her. Still no CT. I told her sister I was going to run out to find her, at which point I was told by her no I wasn't. She'd go find her, get her to me, then we could finish. Normally, I would have argued the point, had I NOT JUST RUN A MARATHON! Ha....even though this entry is depressing, I can still work in some horrible humor. True to her word, Downhill got CT to me and I crossed the line with her. Probably the way I should have planned to do it to begin with. Soon after the rest of the Superstars crossed the line.

That night I made the comment to CT that it was the first Kalamazoo Marathon and it was my last Kalamazoo Marathon, I was that defeated by it. Sleeping on it, without any nightmares I might add, I woke up to decide I'm not letting it get the better of me. I'll run this race again and I'll get the time I wanted.

Think the story is finally done. You can stop here, because this is more for me. When I think back to how the training went, I'm very disappointed that I had to find out what "the wall" was during the race. Had I had a better understand of what exactly it was, I don't think it would have been as devastating to me. Maybe it's hard to push people into finding it in training. If that's the case, it would have been helpful to hear from people who experience it. Then again, maybe everybody is different and there's no real way to explain it. It's not as simple as getting tired like I was lead to believe. As far as my plan for the next Marathon, I'm going with starting slower than I'd like, hit the halfway point, then try to get faster. I very easily could get in the same situation as I did this race and be that much worse off, but it seemed to work for many people as they passed me late when I was dead. I'm also not sold on the whole tapering philosophy. I suppose I did finish and body felt good when it did work, but I didn't like cutting my miles down as much as we did and I also wished we had at least hit Marathon distance prior to do it. Lastly, diet is going to play a much larger role. I can't help but wonder had I paid more attention here, if I could have avoided what happened to me.