The Decision

What do you look forward to this time of year?  In Colorado, it's the changing of seasons: the shifts of hues in the tree leaves that leave hillsides ablaze with color, the bugling of the elk, the cooler temps that inevitably bring snow...and for a bunch of us runners, marathon season! 

Yes, marathon season is in full swing now, and no--non, runners--that's not when you can hunt down a marathoner! Fall is the time when most (though not all) of the major marathons occur, along with some smaller gems that one of my friends tend to find and race.  This is the time when we want to see all of our consistent training pay off...all those early morning long runs, speedwork sessions, goal pace runs, recovery runs, and the cross training we've been doing.  (And, of course, the nutrition we've hopefully dialed in as well as the REST we've been getting.)  As some of my friends and teammates head off to their races, their "hay is in the barn" (and they must just now "feed the horses"), while I still have some hay stockpiling to do (5 weeks, to be exact:  3 weeks of "regular" training, followed by a 2-week taper).
 

And so I headed out in the early morning darkness (as usual) again today to do my goal pace run. (I have to interject here that I do enjoy running in the darkness.  There's something almost magical about only being able to see the ground directly in front of you that removes that visual reference of where you are and how far you've gone versus where you're going and how far you've gone.) The weather folks said that we'd have a cool front moving in today, so I was prepared for--and actually looking forward to--a cooler run.  I've been a little tired this week, having volunteered at a race on Sunday and probably also just due to where I am in my training cycle, so I wasn't sure how this goal pace run would go.  I adjusted my expectations a little, but not so much that I'd be disappointed in the target pace I was hitting. 

Now, when I do my goal pace training runs, I deliberately start slowly to warm up, but gradually pick up the pace with each successive mile prior to the actual goal pace section, so that moving to the goal pace miles doesn't seem like such a big shift.  I've found that works well for me, and makes that transition much smoother.  This morning, even though I'd adjusted my expectations of my target goal pace to be a bit slower, something was clicking in those miles.  I found that I was holding my target pace (for this morning, at least) pretty exactly mile after mile after mile.  Given that I was tired going into this run, you'd better believe that there were several times that I wasn't sure I was going to keep up the pace.  There were times when it wasn't comfortable to keep going--today, my hamstrings were arguing with me a bit--and the wind gusts made sure to hammer that feeling home this morning.  Somehow I kept my inner metronome going and repeated "I can do this, I can do this..." to the rhythm of my footfalls and breathing.  "Keep the turnover quick, watch your form...".  (I mean seriously. This was a morning when I have to admit that the thought of sleeping in did cross my mind for a split-second, because I knew I was just tired and that this was probably going to hurt a little. Not as in "injury" hurt, but as in "dipping into the pain bucket because you're pushing yourself" hurt.) Mile after mile, though, I was able to nail the goal pace I'd told myself I could live with this morning, and then something happened in that final mile.  Without planning it, and I think simply because I was trying to keep the effort constant, the final mile ticked away at a slightly faster pace.  And then, the beep of my Garmin signaled the end of goal pace miles and one final, recovery pace mile.  Ahhhhh...a comfortable, easy pace for my last mile back to the car!

This morning's run--along with every race I've run this summer and fall so far--reminded me that I have to be willing to "dip into the pain bucket" and endure the discomfort during my race(s) if I want to PR, BQ, or RAFASP  (run as fast as smartly possible).  (And thank you to my friend who challenged me to do so after I ran Boston last April.)  I have a "pain bucket" theory.  There's the discomfort of the marathon in and of itself, and then there's the discomfort of pushing yourself and your pace (as fast as SMARTLY possible) during the marathon, and they're not necessarily the same. We hope and pray that we've trained well so as to avoid much of the first pain bucket, because by virtue of the fact that we've even toed the line at our race, we're facing that one, but we either choose or we don't choose to possibly dip into the second pain bucket when we decide on a goal pace and strategy for our race.  Don't get me wrong here:  I absolutely believe that we have to run a SMART race (including pace)!  But we're also faced with the choice of taking a CALCULATED risk and testing ourselves with our pace.  And that's where it gets scary.  (At least it does for me...  Anybody with me??)  We know the consequences....And we dream of the reward.  

This is the decision I'm faced with, as are my friends and teammates who will toe the line at our respective races this fall.  Take that calculated risk, or play it safe?  


 

May the running gods smile on you, my friends and teammates, in your races this fall.  

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...  

Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon: The TakeAway

Every year about this time in August, several thousand runners along the Front Range of Colorado, myself included, head up to the mountain town of Georgetown, Colorado to run the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon.  For the group that I train with, this race is considered a "training race", and we each can go into it with different goals--some to race it, some to test their marathon pace, some to have a supported, fun, long run in a beautiful area, and some to test their pacing prowess while helping others meet their goals. This is one of the few times a large part of our group does the same race, so it's always fun because of that, too.  And then, there's the post-race party and liquid carb-replenishment...but I digress...

This year, for me, it was a very good race, and I managed to hang on to run a PR--personal record--for my half marathon distance.  Training race or target race, it's usually worth some time to reflect on the experience and what I learned from it.  (The difference being that if it's a training race, there's still time to take action in training before the target race!) 

1)  It's a little intimidating to think that what I'm about to do, if I actually race it, might actually hurt.  Accept it. (If it does, there are effective ways to deal with it.)
2)  No matter where in the lineup I start, I still must allow myself to be passed at the beginning by those either faster or more foolish than me.  This is nothing new to me--the best piece of running advice I got as a beginner runner was to "not go out too fast". I'm good at holding back, but knew that, in this race, I'd have to pay special attention to that, due to where I toed the line.  (I did, and my Garmin showed it: my first two miles were my slowest.)
3)  Don't be afraid to take a chance with the pace, but keep in mind that I still have to "have some left" for the rest of the race.  That was a little scary at times, but I found that if I could just settle in at the new, faster pace, it was doable.  (Not "easy", but doable.)
4)  There will still be rough patches, but keep going!  There was a stretch where I wondered if I was going to fall off my pace significantly, but I remembered that an elite runner once mentioned to keep going through the rough patches--that they'll pass.  I focused on keeping my turnover going and it did pass in just a few minutes.  (What did Winston Churchill say?  "When you're going through hell, keep going".  Sounds like good running advice to me!)
5)  Focus, focus, focus on form when fatigue sets in.  There were a few times late in the race where I felt like my form was breaking down a bit. I don't necessarily think that it was, but even wondering about it brought my focus back to keeping good form going (perhaps a bonus since it took my mind off the fatigue).  This is something I can actively work on in the remaining training before my target marathon, by continuing to strengthen my core and pay special attention to my form when I get fatigued, especially during speedwork. 

It was a fun day for me, in part because I enjoy challenging myself.  We each may have different goals for our races, yet when it comes down to it, there's nothing quite like meeting our goal--whether it's to finish the race, to run our marathon pace successfully, to set a PR, or to win something.  The beauty of it is that we can all take away something from our races no matter what our goal is, and be successful. 

So...what's your takeaway from your last race?

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

What do you do when the "holy grail" of marathons fills up in only 8 hours and 3 minutes of registration?  If you're the folks in charge, you take a serious look at what might need to change.  Of course, I'm referring to the Boston Marathon and the Boston Athletic Association.

As you know if you've read previous blog entries here, or if you have qualified, want to qualify, or are even remotely connected to distance running, the 2011 Boston Marathon filled within 8 hours and 3 minutes, in the midst of technical computer issues, and there was an uproar within the running community immediately.  Consequently, the BAA implemented changes for the upcoming 2012 and 2013 Boston Marathon.  (For details, see my earlier blog entry or go to http://www.baa.org/).

After the first (and second, and third) reading of the details of these changes (and from the 2011 Boston Marathon program itself and www.baa.org) , I was still left with questions about some of the specifics concerning the new registration process.  Several of my running friends weighed in with their interpretation of the new process, but none of us were completely sure. So, instead of waiting and wondering, I emailed the Boston Athletic Association because, after all, "inquiring minds want to know":

"... If I register on that day, and someone else in my division with a time that is, say, even one second faster than mine registers after the 10 min & faster registration window closes (when the next faster 5 minute window opens) would I be bumped?  Or, are we confirmed for our registration as one 'fast wave' ends and the next one begins?"

Their response:

"Thank you for your email.   On September 14th and 15th (10 minute or faster registration period) all entrants will be accepted until the last hour of registration.   If registration fills during those two days (which we feel is unlikely) then there will be a selection process.  If that is the case there is a chance that another runner could have a faster time than you do and therefore secure a spot before you do... " 

After receiving their response, I still felt that some clarification was needed, so I forwarded the email exchanged to another (running) friend for her take on it, and we were still left with some questions: 

"Thank you for your response.  To clarify,

1.  If I have been accepted by the end of that registration period, then (assuming the race hasn't filled) I won't be bumped?

2.  What happens in the event that someone with a faster qualification time than me waits until, say, the last registration day of the second week to register?

3.  When will we actually receive confirmation that we "made it" into the race--at the end of our period of registration, or at the end of the second week of the entire registration process?"

And finally, the response from the BAA Registration Office:

"You will receive confirmation of you acceptance when we are able to verify your time.   Once your registration period has ended (on September 15th) if you are accepted pending verification, you will not be "bumped out"  by a faster runner."

What will happen during those two weeks in September?  Stay tuned for the rest of the story...

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

Race Recap: The 2011 Estes Park Half Marathon

Got hills?  Got altitude?  The Estes Park Half Marathon has them both!

The Estes Park Marathon is billed as the highest paved marathon (and hence, I'd assume, half marathon) in the world.  Estes Park sits at the gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado--you know, where they're lucky to have the enormous snow drifts on Trail Ridge Road plowed by Memorial Day, and where you're likely to see all kinds of wildlife not only in the Park, but in town (as I did).

It goes without saying that this isn't one of those huge big-city races, where tens of thousands of runners turn out and there are bands every mile along the course.  No, this is a smaller race where your spectators are just as likely to be elk, deer, and hawks, as well as the supportive race volunteers and some of the people of the town of Estes Park...and perhaps some curious tourists, too.  (Sidenote:  Estes Park is a wonderful day-getaway for those of us here on the Front Range, and is also popular with tourists from around the world who want to visit Rocky Mountain National Park.)  Make no mistake about it, however, this is one challenging race course!

Preview

I decided to run the Estes Half Marathon because I'd not run a half other than the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon (three times) and also because the timing seemed good, following Boston in April, but before Georgetown in August. I knew, especially on the heels of the BolderBoulder, that I'd be taking a chance that I wasn't fully ready to actually 'race', but thought I'd give it a go and just see how I felt.  To quote Coldplay, "But if you never try you'll never know", right?  And so, last weekend, I decided to go up to Estes for my long run, deliberately scoping out as much of the course as I could (I'm not a runner who likes to be surprised that way), and ran a 9 mile loop, 8 of which was on what I think is the toughest part of the course.  The views are majestic and unparalleled for any other race I've run.
Race Day

I arrived at Estes Park High School, where the race was to start, in time to do a slow mile warm-up, with some strides thrown in.  Since I can't really eat before I run (except for a Honey Stinger Waffle), proper nutrition pre-race is always a challenge. I lined up with the other half marathoners, and we listened to race co-director Terry Chiplin give us directions (in his fabulous Aussie accent) about what to do if we encountered wildlife--especially elk--on the course, part of which included the following admonition:  "If you encounter an elk on the course--and it's been known to happen--DON'T try to run from it!  Elk are much faster than you!" 

After he counted us down to "Go!", we crossed the first set of mats and were on our way.  One of the best pieces of advice I ever received for my very first race (the Race for the Cure 5k) was to "not go out too fast...don't get sucked into the wave of people who take off quickly", and I made it a point to stick to that race strategy today.  We turned the corner onto Highway 36, then up and around to Highway 34 (and the first of many hills), and I found my rhythm, but not my pace yet.  I don't listen to music during races--and usually don't on most all training runs--because I've found that it's better for me to settle into a rhythm with my breathing and footfalls.  If I speed up or slow down, either in pace or in my turnover, then my breathing changes along with it.  Maybe that's part of the musician in me, and the conductor, but I can keep a steady beat, so I use this to keep my running rhythm consistent. 

 We crested the first hill on Highway 34 and turned left onto Elk Trail Court into a residential area and kept ascending.  There were a few people out, but if you need heavy duty crowd support, then this is not the race for you.  Following the residential area, we were granted a short reprieve downhill.  Next, though, was the grueling uphill of Dry Gulch Road toward McGraw Ranch Road and then on to Devil's Gulch Road.  I'd run this loop the week before, so knew what was coming, and wondered what would happen to my pace? (It wasn't a question of if it would fall slower, but how much.) Starting this part of the course, I kept reminding myself to stay (run) within myself.  For me, that meant focusing on my turnover and where my feet fell beneath me, as well as my breathing and keeping the perceived exertion level 'easy', comparatively speaking.  There was a lot more of this race to go, and if I didn't want to blow it, I knew I had to stay within myself.  I noticed three other guys in my general vicinity--there were no other women who I could see around me--and couldn't help but feel good when I kept at it like a tortoise and eventually passed them. (This, by the way, is what we call "chicking", and my apologies to all my male runner friends, but it is gender-specific and--for me, at least--only applies if I don't know you.) It wouldn't have mattered whether they were guys or gals, as any runner knows, it just feels good if you pass someone on a hard stretch. 

We ran.  Uphill.  We kept running. Uphill.  This first stretch of this portion of the race is, I believe, approximately 3 miles of long, gradual, unrelenting uphill. Once you reach the junction for McGraw Ranch Road (ok, yep, I'm feeling my hammies here!), there's a slight dip but then another gradual incline before you crest a hill that will then allow your hamstrings some relief but tax your quads for some downhill running. I was encouraged by an aid station volunteer at the bottom of the hill just before McGraw Ranch Road, who said to me "3rd woman overall"!  Now, whether that was true or not, I didn't know, but it gave me more motivation to keep at it!  At this point, I was running along with the small pack of guys, some of them taking turns leap-frogging each other at various times.  After a short downhill just before mile 8, the climb to the crest of the next hill was the shortest, but the steepest, on this part of the course.  Now, after making it this far on this hilly course, would I have the control in my legs to allow gravity to help me out and take advantage of the downhills? 

And, the answer is....yes.  At times, I felt as if I was flying downhill, but still in control.  The pack of guys was still in my general vicinity, but I was trailing one in particular who seemed to be regulating his pace a bit better than the others, and I decided that was to my advantage.  As long as my pace felt good and I was in control of my running, I kept him in my sights, trailing about 10 feet behind. Finally, some descents!  "What goes up, must come down" is the saying that came to mind.  The caveat here, however, is that from what I knew of the course (and I didn't get to preview the last several miles of it), there were still some hills! 


We made our way back up and over to Wonderview Avenue/McGregor Avenue, turning left and heading--again, uphill--to the Stanley Hotel grounds.  After a short jaunt through the adjoining neighborhood, we finally reached Highway 34 again (aka Big Thompson Avenue), and were in the home stretch.  Now, however, I was facing the unknown:  the last couple of miles of this half marathon were on the bike path that ran south of Lake Estes and then up to the high school track.  I was completely unfamiliar with this part of the course, because although I've biked in and around Estes Park, I've never biked this side of the lake.  Fortunately, it was only being used by us crazy runners, so I just had to keep my wits about me and be prepared for anything.  If you're a runner, you know this, but if not, I'll clue you in:  there's a point in any race, especially marathons and half marathons, where any incline--whether it's a 'big' hill or not--can cause you to want to throw in the towel, at worst, or to slow off pace to the point where you can't regain your rhythm.  You also might be fighting lactic buildup (which literally keeps you from moving any faster), fatigue, heat, or dehydration (though hopefully not that last one!) For me, it's the unknown in these last two miles that had the potential to throw me mentally. 

While running on the bike path, I again passed some official-looking fellas and heard one of them say (to the other, not to me, but talking about me), "There goes our first..." and then I lost him.  What did he say, I wondered?  How could he know I was the first whatever?  I can't be the first woman, so what...???

When I looked up and could see the track at the high school, I knew it was almost over.  Just before making the last turn up to the track, one of the race volunteers called in my bib number (746) so that the announcer would be able to call out my name as I crossed the finish line.  As I ran into the stadium and onto the track, another volunteer repeated my number.  I looked across the field to find the finish line--less than one full loop around the track--and spotted another gal in front of me about 40 or 50 feet. As I hit the curve of the track, I kicked it into a slightly higher gear, but didn't have as much as usual, so couldn't catch the gal in front of me.  Nevertheless, I crossed the finish line as I heard the announcer say my name across the loudspeakers, a strong ending to my first Estes Park Half Marathon.  I was glad to be done! 

After walking for a while, to keep the blood circulating and avoid it pooling in my legs, I made my way over to the water/Gatorade/Mix1/snacks area.  No, I didn't want to eat, but I knew that I needed to get something in the way of carbs and protein in me asap.  As I was standing there, I met a fellow runner by the name of Lisa Marshall, who paid me what I consider to be one of the biggest complements I've received.  Lisa is a resident of Estes Park, a Boston Marathon finisher, has run the Estes Half race before, and placed in 2010, so when she told me that I "killed those hills!", I was honored!  We talked more about the race and the hills, training, and so on, and by the time I'd left Estes for the day, I'd made a new friend in Lisa.  By the way, Lisa snagged 2nd in our age division!  Congratulations, Lisa!

 

 The awards ceremony was held in the student center of the high school, and this race certainly gives out some very nice prizes.  The overall winners received beautiful framed print photographs of a scene in Rocky Mountain National Park, taken by local artists.  Age group winners received elegant plaques, and the 2nd and 3rd in each age group received another medal.  (All half and full marathon finishers receive a different medal.)

After the awards ceremony, taking pictures, and watching the female winner of the full marathon finish (in 3:29-something!), I said my goodbyes and headed back home to Denver, where my pup and the first ice soak of the season awaited me. 

If you're considering the Estes Park Half Marathon, and are up for a challenging, hilly course, I'd definitely recommend it as one to put on your list.  While you don't get a 'free' t-shirt (do we really need another cotton t-shirt?), you do get a medal, and some tasty goodies post-race.  The scenery is incredibly beautiful, and the organization is top-notch, from the starting line, through the plentiful aid stations, to all of the very clear course markings.  The fact that there's an awards ceremony and some nice swag is also a plus, as is the fact that it's a smaller race, so you could actually meet your competition.  Kudos and thank you to Terry Chiplin and Belle Morris, race Co-Directors, as well as the Estes Park Marathon Committee and all of the volunteers for a very nice event today! 

So what's my takeaway from today's race?

1.  Hill training is worth it, and it can work. (Sidenote here:  I have my close friend Marguerite to thank for the fact that I've embraced hills over the past year.  After one run at Dino Ridge with her, seeing how she loved hills and ate them up, I've been motivated to embrace hillwork, rather than just 'do' it. Thank you, my friend!)

2.  'Staying within myself' became much more well-defined for me on a personal level. 

3.  Accurately assessing when to take advantage of a situation versus when I'm pushing too much will help in the future.

4.  I may have a patch during a race where I consider DNF-ing.  DON'T!!! Keep going!!!

5.  Runners are amazing, resilient, determined, encouraging, and friendly people from whom I constantly learn, and I'm proud to be one of them in their community!

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

God Bless the USA--Memorial Day and the BolderBoulder 2011

This isn't your typical race recap, because today's race wasn't your typical race.  Whether you're a runner or not, read on, because I think you'll identify with some of the uniqueness of today, Memorial Day 2011.


My day began at 3:15am when my alarm sounded to rouse me for the running of the 2011 BolderBoulder, an annual 10k (6.2 miles) held on Memorial Day in Boulder, Colorado.  While I've lived in Colorado nearly 20 years, this was only to be the second time I've run this race, so I was looking forward to it for a number of reasons.  The BolderBoulder is also a tribute to everything that this days means to our country--I just had no idea since I wasn't able to stay for the 'festivities' the first time I ran it.


After meeting up with a friend and warming up, we each took our places in our respective waves.  My race went off without a hitch, and after the usual post-race stretching, hydration, snack-bag-getting, pictures, chatting-with-friends-who-aren't-staying, and gear bag retrieval, we headed into Folsom Field (the stadium at the University of Colorado) to meet other friends for the festivities.  Now, the BolderBoulder is the second largest 10k in the country, with some 50,000 participants expected this year (I don't know yet what the final count was).  We'd started in one of the first few waves, and given that the official celebration wasn't slated to begin until around 11:30 or so--after the elite men's and women's races, we had a lot of time.  Given that all of the runners finish by running into and around the stadium, naturally we watched the runners.  There is, of course, some silliness that ensues in the BolderBoulder, but not with one group who did this race as a unit.  Looking up on the jumbotron, then spotting them entering the stadium, our group--and the entire stadium (which was now getting quite full)--jumped to our feet shouting and clapping, and the clamor grew with each section they passed:  a group of about 12 military men--Army, I think--running two abreast, in their fatigues and combat boots, carrying their branch's flag and the American flag!  They stopped just before the finish, the flag-bearers standing at attention, and in formation and with the precision of a well-oiled machine, executed a set of push-ups before resuming formation to run in to the finish.  The crowd went wild. That was just the beginning.

This year, the BolderBoulder would celebrate its 1 millionth runner crossing the finish line. As we were waiting for the elites to finish their race, the announcer presented the unsuspecting 'winner' to the crowd, interviewed her, and let us all know the bevy of cool things she would be getting.  On this day, how fitting it was that we discovered that she was a veteran herself, and was running for a group of fellow soldiers with whom she'd served who'd not survived to return home.  On her back was a race bib filled with each of their photos.  


Following the International Team Challenge, the elite men's and women's races--which deserves another entry all its own--the official celebration began.  There was a flyover, then the announcer asked us to stand to honor several significant veterans who were being recognized on the podium.  In a stadium now full of at least 50,000 people, you could almost hear a pin drop.  Next was the presentation of colors and the 21-gun salute.  It's always impressive to see the precision and discipline of our military men and women during these time-honored traditions.  When it came time for the singing of our national anthem, it was an a Capella soloist who did the honors.  Standing there, hand over heart, something inside me just wouldn't allow me to sing.  Silent.  Be silent, and honor in that way.  Even if I'd tried to sing, I don't think it would've happened, because I was already sensing something welling up in the 'ol esophagus...


In the sky over the stadium, a plane slowly circled in the air, and as we watched, one...two...three...four...five parachutists jumped, pulled their red-white-and-blue chutes, and began slowly descending in a large spiral--one at a time--toward the center of the stadium in Folsom Field.  But wait...there's something else they've each unfurled that's now trailing behind them.  One by one they spiraled down, got into position, then made their final descent onto the center of the grassy area meant to be a target--each representing a different branch of our nation's military, and trailing that branch's flag behind them as they did.  Army...Navy...Air Force...Marines...Coast Guard. With each successive solo entrance, the crowd became more appreciative, and you could just feel the sense of pride growing.


It was what happened next that capped off the experience I wasn't expecting today...


We'd watched each parachutist land, gather his chute, and make way for the next one.  Without realizing it, though, there was one more who'd just jumped from the still-circling plane.  Suddenly, he released the American flag to trail behind him, and as he did, the music to Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" began. We all stood, initially cheering with enthusiastic pride. Then, every one of us in the crowd in Folsom Field got quiet, listening to the music as we watched this amazing experience unfold before us. Some sang softly, but in our group there was nothing but silence.  There was no singing for this runner--there was no way I could eke out a sound.
He took his time, circling, descending, circling, descending, until the moment for the final chorus was at hand.  I looked up behind me, and there, seemingly within arm's reach, he positioned himself in the center of the end of the stadium above the crowd...floating.  At the final chorus of the song, he released from his position and flew right over us, American flag in tow, and--to the wild excitement of us all, right down onto the center of the field, where the volunteers were waiting to scoop up the American flag so as not to let it be on the ground. 

The excitement, the honor of being an American, and the appreciation for those who had fought and were fighting for our freedom all came together in that moment--at least for me.  Everything I'd just experienced reminded me how thankful I am for the freedoms that we have--not just the ones we usually think of, the big ones, but also the little, daily ones that we sometimes forget.  Thank you, BolderBoulder, for such a great event in which to participate and be reminded of the significance of this day.  And thank you to the men and women of our military, both past and present, for your service.  Those of us who haven't served will never truly understand, but we are appreciative nonetheless.   God bless you and God bless the USA.

God Bless the USA--tribute video




Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

2011 Boston Marathon Recap -- Countdown to Marathon Monday: T-1

Marathon Monday.  That's what they call race day for the Boston Marathon.  In contrast to other marathons that are usually held on Sundays (and in a few cases, Saturdays), the Boston Marathon is held on a Monday, and is always on Patriots' Day.  It's a holiday for the city of Boston, and the Red Sox have a game that day, too.  Marathon Monday is extremely well-supported by the citizens of Boston and the towns along the race course!

We've now reached T-1 day, Sunday, the day before race day.  Our three goals for the day are:

1)  Stay off our feet as much as possible,

2)  Tour the course, and

3)  Talk out our race strategy.

I won't go into detail about each one--just the highlights...

1)  Stay off our feet as much as possible.

     The last thing we want to be doing is spending lots of time on our feet the day before our marathon.  For the last few weeks of the taper, and now especially this close to the race, our objective has been to avoid doing things that would sabotage the training we've put in and hurt our race. 

2)  Tour the course.

     Thanks to a friend in my running group, I'd made reservations for us to take a tour of the course through Marathon Tours.  We were sure to get to the coach buses early in order to get a seat in the front--where we could actually see the course as it unfolded in front of us.  With half an hour to spare before the stated departure time of 10 am, I quickly went to the shirt exchange area in the expo so that I could exchange the technical shirt that came in our packet for a better fitting one.  As I came out to the bus area again, with 13 minutes to spare, Marguerite stepped off the bus and motioned for me to "come on!!"  After I ran to the bus and took my seat, she told me that the tour director had come on the bus at 9:45 wanting to leave, but she proceeded to keep that from happening.  It was an uncomfortable scene for her, and I'm extremely glad that she's a strong woman and friend who'd do that for me.  (Note to Marathon Tours:  If your stated departure time is 10am, then you shouldn't plan on leaving early without telling your paying guests prior to the day of the tour!)  Despite this incident, I highly recommend taking this course tour.

Our tour narrator proved to be very knowledgeable not only about the course, but also about the history of the Boston Marathon, as he'd run it twenty-something times.  His experience on the course dated back to the 1960's, and he had quite a few interesting stories to tell about now-famous runners, such as Alberto Salazar, with whom he'd actually run! 

We arrived in Hopkinton, a small town where the race begins, and they alloted about twenty minutes for us to walk around and take pictures.  If you're a runner, you may have seen some of these pictures before. 



This well-known sign is almost at the Starting Line for the marathon.

The folks in Hopkinton must be very patient...just about every runner out there, including us, had to get their picture at the Start Line.









 

The Start Line for the 115th Boston Marathon!

While on the course tour, we paid close attention and tried to remember as many aspects of the course as possible. The mile markers are actually painted onto the road, and every so often there is an 'elite' marker as well.  These people are committed to the longevity of this marathon.

We made it a point to note were there was a rolling hill and where it flattened out, as well as how steep we thought the initial descent really was.  One important thing we came away with: the course is more of a rolling course in those first miles than it's been described, and we'd need to plan for that accordingly.

Of course, the primary things that everyone wants to see on the Boston Marathon course are the hills.  How steep are they?  How long are they?  I'd read various descriptions of the course, but until I actually saw the hills, I didn't know how they compared to the hills that we'd run in training.  Let me just say that the hills that we run in training are enormous energy-suckers that drain even the best hill warrior.  The hills in Boston are notorious not just because they're hills, but because of where they are in the race--starting at mile 16.5 and lasting until you crest Heartbreak Hill at the end of mile 21.  They aren't to be taken lightly, but because of the hill training we do, we should be ready for them.  I believe it's the running strategy employed up to this point that also helps you navigate them. 

Here is a video of the infamous Heartbreak Hill:

   

 Interestingly, at the end of the course tour, the bus stopped short of the finish line on Boylston Street.  We'd heard that it was bad luck to walk across the finish line prior the the race, so we opted to skip the walk down Boylston and returned to our hotel instead.  It was time to rest and talk strategy.

3)  Talk out our race strategy.

     Up to this point, we'd talked casually about running the race together, but hadn't made a firm decision yet.  We also hadn't talked pacing or pacing strategy. 

     After a few minutes of discussion, we decided that we did want to run the race and cross that finish line together.  Unusual, yes, but we might not ever get a chance to run Boston together again. We agreed on one 'ground rule':  that if either of us had to stop, the other would automatically go on.  As for pacing, we reviewed the different times and settled on the most conservative time as well as the most conservative pacing strategy.  Our plan was to run conservatively through the top of Heartbreak Hill (mile 21), check in with each other, and slam it in from there to the finish on Boylston Street.  We both believed that we could run faster than the pace we'd chosen, but one of our goals was to run a smart race, strategically speaking.

Finally, we caught a cab to the pre-race pasta dinner at City Hall, where we were treated to some pretty decent pasta and a pary-like atmosphere.  It wasn't Little Italy, but we also didn't want to linger at a late dinner the night before we ran the Boston Marathon.  Get in, get out, and get back to our final preparations for the next morning's ride to the race start in Hopkinton.  

In line at the pre-race pasta dinner.



 Ready for Marathon Monday for the 2011 Boston Marathon!

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll!







2011 Boston Marathon Recap -- The Countdown to Race Day Begins

Well, it's been quite a whirlwind in my world for the last few weeks.  With a two-week taper for Boston nearing an end, my friend who recently moved to South Africa came back into town prior to us flying to Boston for the race.  I made it through the taper without going stir-crazy, and actually learned that I like a two-week taper much better than the typical three-week taper. (I probably don't have to tell you, then, that I don't ever want to have a four-week taper!) After staging everything I thought I might need--most of which was running gear--and then actually getting it into a suitcase (except for the critical running gear I'd need on race day, of course!), I headed to Beantown with my friend, both of us hardly believing that we were actually going to run the Boston Marathon!  I have to add that there were several other runners who were obviously going to run Boston on our flight out of DIA that morning.  It was interesting to share the camaraderie of knowing that we were all going to the same place for the same purpose--even if we didn't speak or exchange more than a "good luck" to each other. Southwest 2907, take us to Boston! Marguerite & I are ready to go! "Running is not, as it so often seems, only about what you did in your last race or about how many miles you ran last week.  It is, in a much more important way, about community, about appreciating all the miles run by other runners, too."  (Richard O'Brien) Once we reached Boston, checked into our hotel, and had a good dinner at a nearby restaurant, we tried to get a good night's sleep. The next morning, Saturday, we decided to do our final, "shake-out" run, an easy 3-miler, along the Charles River, which was just a few blocks from our hotel.  As we ran, talked, and just enjoyed the scenery and each other's company (after all, there's nothing quite like running with a close friend), we passed other pairs of runners, solo runners, and even a large group of runners, all out doing their final pre-race runs as well.  In those moments, I couldn't help but sense a kindred spirit between all of us running the pathway along the river, for despite the fact that we each had followed our own individual training plan, we shared enough in common to understand what it took just to get here...the long weekend runs, 18, 20, 22, 24 miles...the typically-solo-early-morning / evening / lunchtime runs squeezed into an already packed schedule...the freezing, pre-dawn sessions with your speedwork group where you're demanding difficult things of your body before non-running friends and co-workers have even thought about that first cup of coffee...the nutrition...the cross-training...the aches and pains of daily training...the frustrations of a training stretch not going so well, and the joys of training going better than planned...and the races.  Each of us had to run a qualifying time in an earlier marathon to even be considered for entry into the 2011 Boston Marathon.  I thought about my friend, who'd consistently kept up her distance and speedwork training and racing through an international move and all the frustrations that come with it, often logging her long runs in the pouring rain, usually solo, and driving an hour each way just to reach an area where she could run safely in a new country.  Yes, whether I knew you very well or not at all, I could appreciate what you've been through just to make it to the starting line of the Boston Marathon. Following our shake-out run, we got ready and walked over to the race expo at the Haynes Convention Center.  For my non-running friends out there, the race expo for your marathon is where you pick up your race packet, which has, among other things, your official bib and timing chip, as well as your official race shirt.  So, every runner is inherently required to go the the expo to (at the very least) pick up these critical items.  (In this case, the timing device was built into our bib, so we didn't have to worry about attaching a chip or d-loop to our shoes.  I like that new trend in races, because it's one less thing you have to fiddle with.)  The tricky thing about marathon expos is that there are tons of other things to see, do, and try there, as well as purchase, but those who are racing need to limit the amount of time on their feet before race day.  As a result, many runners often try to attend the expo two days before the race, if possible.  If you're not running, however, you can also attend the race expo, since it's usually open to the public as well as to the runner. Mindful of wanting to save our energy, we walked the expo with a time in mind to call it quits for the day.  Of course, we had to do a bit of shopping, and particularly had to be sure to go to the official Adidas area where we could get any and all things that were officially licensed 2011 Boston Marathon apparel...especially The Jacket!  I think it's safe to say that whether a runner buys anything else or not, he or she will buy The Jacket. By that, I mean The Official 2011 Boston Marathon Jacket.  This year's model is a sleek black with green stripes on the shoulders and down the arms, and had the official Boston Marathon logo on the front and back.  It's been quite controversial, as the logo wasn't embroidered this year, as is typical, but rather screen-printed, and the BAA and Adidas have probably heard a lot of "input", shall we say, about it.  Nonetheless, both Marguerite and I wanted to get The Jacket.  Once secured (yes, along with other purchases--what else did you expect?), we neatly folded them and put them into our bags.  It's bad luck to wear The Jacket before you finish The Race. One tip, here, for anyone who might be reading this who has yet to run your first marathon:  enjoy the expo, but be aware of and careful about what food/drink samples you might try there.  This is because 1) there are usually lots of them and 2) the last thing you want to do in the day or two before your race is to eat or drink lots of things your system isn't used to.  As our coach put it, "now's not the time to try anything new"! We did take the time at the KT Tape booth to both get any pieces-parts that had been bothering us during training taped, and I have to give a shout out to Dr. Billy Kuykendall of the Airrosti Rehab Centers in Dallas (www.airrosti.com) for the expert tape job on my left calf.  He not only did a great job, but also took the time to explain how to duplicate it if I needed to do so.  And so, taped up, packets in hand, and a few bucks poorer, we finished at the expo, ate a fantastic seafood dinner at the Atlantic Fish Company, and walked the few blocks back to our hotel in Back Bay.  It was time to call it a night. Another tip: Tonight's sleep--two nights prior to race day--would be the most important in the days immediately prior to the race.  Why?  Because you're usually so keyed up the night before your marathon that you don't rest well anyway!

Relentless Forward Motion, ya'll!

Boston Marathon Athlete Tracking

Ever wish that you could actually be there when someone you know runs these crazy things called marathons, but something keeps you from it (such as the cash outlay to fly/drive, stay in a hotel, etc, etc)?  Well, you're in luck.  For the major marathons, there is usually a way to track an athlete who you know is running, which may be the next best thing to being there.  While most of the biggies are broadcast on tv, that time-space continuum is reserved for the elites...those extremely fleet-footed folks who are capable of sustaining 5-minute (or less!) miles over the course of 26.2 miles.  The rest of us won't get that tv time (unless they happen to leave the finish-line camera running after the elites are done, as they did in this year's Chicago Marathon, and if you happen to be streaming it online, as I was).

If you have friends or family running the 115th annual Boston Marathon, click on the link below to find out what you need to know and do if you want to follow their progress.  And if, for some strange reason, it's me you want to follow, just please DON'T tell me until AFTER the race!

Finally, don't announce an athlete's time if they haven't done it themselves.  Not cool.

For information on race day media coverage, or other spectator information:

http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/event-information/spectator-information.aspx

For individual Athlete Tracking:

http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/participant-information/att-athlete-alert.aspx 

  

Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

7 Days

The final countdown has begun.  With 7 days until race day, our training is in the bank and our taper is in full swing.  That doesn't mean that we don't run or train, just that there's nothing more that we can do now that will help us on race day--if we haven't done it by now, it's too late!  In fact, we have to be careful that we don't do things that will hurt us on race day from here on out. 

...Try to avoid being around anyone who-might-possibly-remotely-slightly-could-be-or-could-have-been-sick-or-feeling-the-least-bit-"iffy"-lately (sorry, no, I don't want to shake your hand at church or have you up in my "space" at work)...Stop eating anything that we know might give us issues before or on race day...Get as much rest as is humanly possible and still hold down a job...and so on.  You get the idea.  We may get a little "paranoid", but who wouldn't if you'd put in as much time and effort over the past 12 weeks--not to mention the previous time and effort it took us to qualify for Boston in the first place! (Although, anytime I get close to race day, this is my mind-set...It's just magnified for Boston.)

So, for the next 7 days, in addition to my regular "day" job (because I can't yet make a living at this running thing, and won't ever, because, well, I'm a little older than is ideal and--perhaps more obvious--I'm not nearly fast enough!), my life will look like this:  I will...
1)  do my scheduled runs (for a grand total of 16 whopping miles this week), including an abbreviated regular speedwork session with my Runners Edge of the Rockies speedwork group,
2)  make lists of what to pack...what to pack for race day, including the clothing and other items that I'll need for the wait in Hopkinton, what I'll need to keep with me (or on) until just a few minutes before the start (which means I'll be discarding some stuff that will be collected and donated to charities), entire sets of weather-specific clothing options for the actual race, the electronics (Garmin), nutrition (gels), geetah straw (although I think we decided to call it a Wise straw on our last long run...) and anything else needed for the duration of the race, clothes for changing into immediately post-race if necessary (again, weather specific), what to pack for post-race recovery, and what to pack for the days I actually might need to be presentable in public.  And running shoes.  Perhaps the most important. Remember the running shoes!
3) Then I'll stage and pack all of that stuff, being deliberate to either wear the items I can't run without or put them into my carry-on bag that I won't let go from my hot little hands.  (Another RER Boston-bound peep advised wearing the running shoes I'd wear for the race, since he'd had his carry-on taken from him one year and it never made it! Yikes!)
4)  Get a massage.  A deep-tissue "tune up" massage.  This, of course, is to be done by the one and only person I trust for it nowadays: the amazing Karen Kalbach.  (Hint:  You really should go see Karen if you regularly train for long-distance running.  Caveat: You and I will be fine just as long as I can get in to see her! :-)  )
5)  Obsess over the weather in Boston, knowing full well that all predictions could go completely out the window on race day morning when we're headed out to Hopkinton!
6)  Rest...'nuf said.
7)  Get the proper nutrition (no, you can't eat like crap and then expect to "carb-up" the night before the marathon.  It doesn't work like that. Thanks to Nancy Pudwill for her guidance in the nutrition arena!)
8) Make reservations for wherever we think we might want to eat while in Beantown.  (I'll have a kitchenette, so will have some control over my food, but we can't possibly go to Boston and not patronize some of their eating establishments!)
9)  Visit the expo, pick up my official bib, hopefully meet some of the elites who will be racing (see http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/event-information/2011-elite-field.aspx for more details) including CU graduate Kara Goucher.

And, finally (well, there are probably more things to list, but I'll cap it at ten)...

10) Buy that bottle of champagne for post-race celebration.  (Hey, it's either post-race celebration or post-race condolences, and I'm going to think positive here!)


Boston...here we come!


Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...

Bostontirikulitis! (Bah-stahn-tee-rick-yoo-li-tuhs)

I've come down with something in the last several days, and I don't think there's anything anyone can do about it. I've got a fever, and this time I don't think that more cowbell is the answer.  I take some comfort, though, in knowing that I'm not alone in my illness.  No, there are at least 20 other people in my running group, and probably thousands more (whether they'll admit it or not is another story) who have the same disease.

It's BOSTONTIRIKULITIS.  < Cue dramatic violin. >

What is Bostontirikulitis, you ask?

Bostontirikulitis, according to the encyclopedia Jodavisannica, is "a brain disorder that causes one to only be able to think about running and nutrition in the weeks leading up to the Boston Marathon.  Symptoms include forgetting people's names, forgetting things you were just told, blank stares when trying to discuss anything other than Boston, and finding not funny things very funny.  The only known cure is to set a PR." 

Bostontirikulitis, thus far, has manifested itself in numerous different ways, but we are continually observing new symptoms each and every day.  The symptoms range from the subtle (blank stares of glassy-eyed runners who only respond to words such as "speedwork", "long run", "taper", "pacing strategy", "bib number", or "corral") to the perplexing (“president of my corral”), to the obviously overt ("oh-my-god-I-dropped-the-pliers-and-have-to-get-them-out-because-I-CAN'T-miss-the-last-speedwork-tomorrow-before-Boston-so-I'll-call-the-locksmith-and-give-him-a-chunk-of-change-to-get-them-out-because-it's-midnight!!"), and everything in-between.  Chances are, if you're running this race, or if you ever have, or if you know someone who is, you've seen the symptoms but might not have recognized them.  I urge you to be aware of them and watch for signs of this disease in runners you know, and to exercise patience (and possibly restraint) as they work through Bostontirikulitis.  In most cases, it will run its course in about two weeks, but you should also be prepared for the onslaught of a related illness known as Post-Bostontirikulitisdepressionilicisim. This is a specific derivation of a more widely known malaise (Greek name: Post-longassdistanceracecompleteddepressionilicisim) that sets in following the completion of any long-distance race (very commonly the marathon), when the runner, for recovery purposes, is not allowed to run, but is resigned to walking, then running only very short distances for a certain period of time.  Each runner may manifest different symptoms, however it is generally marked in all runners by a sense of purposelessness and loss of direction.  It is, fortunately, temporary, as most of these fleet-footed types resume training within 3 to 6 weeks for yet another chance to toe the line.

Please consider this your public service announcement concerning Bostontirikulitis. While it is somewhat contagious (I was diagnosed just this past weekend), those of us with the disease are doing our best to control the symptoms and anticipate a "speedy" recovery.  We thank you for your understanding.


 Relentless Forward Motion, Ya'll...


(Thank you to JD and Kathy for providing the inspiration for this entry.)

Hills for Breakfast

"Today we have an awesome route through Parker,"
<Cue evil laugh> ... "Bwaah-haaa-haaa-haaaaaaaaa!!!!"

That's how today's long run was introduced the first time I ever ran it, as a marathon-wannabe-newbie (just two summers ago, by the way), and it's stuck ever since. The official name of our route is, simply, "The Parker Run", but it's come to be known as "The Infamous Parker Run", followed by the evil laugh, of course.

Now, we run a variety of courses on our weekend long runs.  I think our coach has over 150 different courses throughout the Denver and Boulder metro areas, so we don't ever run the same course twice within a training session.  We have several other hilly courses (which you'll no doubt hear about in this blog at some point), but this one trumps them all.  Why? Well, take a look at the elevation profile, but pay particular attention to the total climb and total elevation change:

     Total Climb: 1012 ft
      Total Elevation Change:1864 ft


    







As you can see, this is one hilly course!  And I have to tell you, too, that these aren't hills of the "rolling hill" variety (not that those are necessarily any easier within the context of a long run), but these puppies are long. And steep.  They're unrelenting, and will do a number on you not only physically but also mentally if you're not prepared for them--and sometimes even when you are.

The Parker Run course is always set out for a maximum of 24 miles--12 out and back--but not everyone goes the same distance. (It depends on where you are in your training plan.)  Until this session, this was always one of my 24-mile long runs that I had in my training schedule, so I usually ended up running solo from the 22-mile turnaround (which is the 11-mile mark) out and back to the finish/start.  It was a great mental boost to me when I'd finished, knowing that I'd accomplished a 24-mile, very hilly route (and often in some fairly intense Colorado heat).   Today, however, I "only" had 22 miles of The Parker Run to do, since my coach took out the 24 milers and added more goal pace runs to my level training plan.

We started off very conservatively, as we always do on our long runs, so that we can get warmed up properly and not burn too much glycogen--our primary fuel--too fast.  On this course, that's also when we're giving our bodies an introduction to the shock of what we're about to ask them to do! After we've picked up the pace ever so slightly during those first two miles, we start to get into the "middle miles" of our run--for me today those were the middle 19 miles-- and we run those in thirds, with each third targeting an average pace.  Of course, that average pace gradually gets faster, but since this isn't a goal pace run, it's still slower than what we'll try to target on our race day. The purpose of our long run today was to build endurance, stamina, and strength (hence the hills). The final mile is done again at a slower pace in order to start the recovery process and flush the lactic acid and other "garbage" out of our legs.  Actually doing that last mile at a slower pace but yet continuing to run is tough, though, because your body wants to either keep running at your current pace or stop and walk altogether. 

Out of my pace group, there are four of us preparing for the Boston Marathon, so we all had 22 on our schedule today, and also a few others who are doing later races who also had 22.  This is a key workout for everyone, but especially for the Boston bound folks, because it's two weeks before race day and gives us not only the training effect of the hills, but also the mental edge we need to fortify us for that day.  We ran and we talked and we took notice of the gorgeous view of the mountains, and as each hill approached we employed our best uphill technique and before we knew it (well, maybe not that fast) we'd crested the hill...time to practice that downhill running technique.  For several hours we did this, and spurred each other on if the hill suddenly seemed even larger and our legs even heavier.  At one point, as we were nearing the final push of the long (or should I say Long, with a capital "L"), arduous hill near the school, one of my friends and Boston-bound teammates who was running beside me said "C'mon, Donna! To the top!" and we both gave it an extra kick and increased our turnover to take the rest of that hill as if we weren't tired at all.  I couldn't help but wonder if she also had the same mental picture as I did:  running up that final hill in Boston, crowds screaming...?

It's amazing what the power of running with a group can do...Although we often get somewhat separated naturally as we run--especially on a long run like this one--we still know that our teammates--friends, now--are there close by, running the same tough, hilly course in the same heat as we are, and encouraging us on no matter how they feel. As an aside,  I have to tell you:  runners (at least the ones in my group, but I'd like to think the majority of runners out there) are some of the most encouraging people around. 
And so it is that as we reached miles 15...16...17, we all remarked that we "couldn't believe" that we'd reached that mile "already". 

By the time we reached mile 22, the recovery mile, our final one for today, we'd gotten spread out again, but it no longer mattered.  As we ran to the finish in the beautiful, warm Colorado sunshine, we'd done it again...we'd finished yet another Infamous Parker Run. 

For me, today, it was a good run, one that I needed not just physically, but mentally as well. 

Wham! Parker hills DONE! We came, we saw, we ran!


Relentless Forward Motion, ya'll!