Now that I'm back in base-building phase and running so slowly, I really want to be focusing on my form in all my runs. There are little triggers I can use while I'm actually running - the best one for me is to think of someone pulling on a string attached to the top of my head. That really gets me to keep my pelvis and core from tipping too much, and automatically gets my feet more under me, encouraging a mid-foot strike.
I've also been thinking back to my track days, when we started every practice with a warm-up and a good 15 minutes of form drills. You know, high knees, butt kicks, etc. It's been a while since college, so to refresh my memory, I found this cheesy yet helpful video on the Running Times website:
Never mind the bad jokes and the fact that this was targeted towards Master's runners. It demonstrates some of the easiest and more effective form drills that runners can do. The whole thing took me about 20 minutes in the middle of a 5 mile run. I'm an idiot and accidentally stopped my Garmin, but I did basically 2.5 miles, then the drills, then another 2.5 miles; all said, taking about an hour. After each drill, I would jog back, then do a sprint, then walk back. Honestly, each sprint felt easier and more effortless as I kept doing the drills. I'm going to try to add these in to a recovery run once a week. I look super silly doing them, especially in the middle of crowded Central Park, but they're actually kind of fun!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Let's hear it for New York
I can't believe I've been in NYC since Thursday and I haven't made it here to wax poetic about how much I adore running in this city. I've put over 30 amazing slow, easy miles on the flower-lined streets of Central Park. Running with the other people in the park, being in this beautiful place juxtaposed between nature and city, in what's been perfect spring weather to bring the trees and flowers into full bloom puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step.
Since Boston, my running has been pretty unstructured, purposefully so. I ran zip-zilch-nada from Boston Monday to Easter Sunday, when I got out for just over 2 miles before the Easter eating commenced. My legs were confused, sore, and sluggish. Monday's 5 went slightly better, but it definitely took a few days of easy running for my legs to feel any semblance of normal again. I didn't have a mileage goal in mind in the first week back running, so I was pleasantly surprised to hit 31.5 fairly easily, ending with a 10-miler on Saturday. I think the key was taking every run nice and easy, paying close attention to my pulse to make sure it didn't get much above 150.
With Grandma's fast approaching, and NYC on the horizon in November, I've decided to take this spring/summer to do some heart rate-based, Hadd-like base building before entering into a 12-ish week training plan for NYC. I've devised a "plan" to do so, based on some Hadd stuff, a typical week of 60-ish miles looking like this (mins @ HR):
Hadd suggests doing a test of sorts as a way to monitor if all the sub-aerobic training is working. It basically involves running a series of 2400 meter intervals at increasing HRs: 140, 150, 160, 170, 180 with 90 seconds of rest in between. I think I'll plan on doing this sometime next week. This week my mileage should be at least 40, if not 45, and as long as I still feel rested and raring to go, this should be good timing.
I think it's going to be a challenge keeping myself in those zones, but I think it's a good way for my body to happily accept building up some mileage in order to hopefully get into a training plan next fall that peaks at 75-80 mpw. That being said, my legs are feeling absolutely awesome as I've been keeping my AHR below 155 on my recent runs. I'm at higher mileage post-marathon than I have been in the past, even though I took an entire week off. I can feel myself chomping at the bit sometimes, especially on gorgeous days like today when I'm being passed by people in the park and have to keep my competitive side at bay, but I think it will be good for me. It will also be a perfect way for me to have a plan that's flexible enough for me to do the "whenever, wherever" runs I don't get during a marathon training plans - at such low heart rates, adding miles when I feel good isn't such a disaster! I'm excited about this little experiment and to see how I feel during it!
Since Boston, my running has been pretty unstructured, purposefully so. I ran zip-zilch-nada from Boston Monday to Easter Sunday, when I got out for just over 2 miles before the Easter eating commenced. My legs were confused, sore, and sluggish. Monday's 5 went slightly better, but it definitely took a few days of easy running for my legs to feel any semblance of normal again. I didn't have a mileage goal in mind in the first week back running, so I was pleasantly surprised to hit 31.5 fairly easily, ending with a 10-miler on Saturday. I think the key was taking every run nice and easy, paying close attention to my pulse to make sure it didn't get much above 150.
With Grandma's fast approaching, and NYC on the horizon in November, I've decided to take this spring/summer to do some heart rate-based, Hadd-like base building before entering into a 12-ish week training plan for NYC. I've devised a "plan" to do so, based on some Hadd stuff, a typical week of 60-ish miles looking like this (mins @ HR):
| 60 @ 145 | 75 @ 160 | 60 @ 145 inc 30 @ 145 | 90 @ 145-150 | 85 @ 160 | 75 @ 140-150 | 120 @ 155 |
Hadd suggests doing a test of sorts as a way to monitor if all the sub-aerobic training is working. It basically involves running a series of 2400 meter intervals at increasing HRs: 140, 150, 160, 170, 180 with 90 seconds of rest in between. I think I'll plan on doing this sometime next week. This week my mileage should be at least 40, if not 45, and as long as I still feel rested and raring to go, this should be good timing.
I think it's going to be a challenge keeping myself in those zones, but I think it's a good way for my body to happily accept building up some mileage in order to hopefully get into a training plan next fall that peaks at 75-80 mpw. That being said, my legs are feeling absolutely awesome as I've been keeping my AHR below 155 on my recent runs. I'm at higher mileage post-marathon than I have been in the past, even though I took an entire week off. I can feel myself chomping at the bit sometimes, especially on gorgeous days like today when I'm being passed by people in the park and have to keep my competitive side at bay, but I think it will be good for me. It will also be a perfect way for me to have a plan that's flexible enough for me to do the "whenever, wherever" runs I don't get during a marathon training plans - at such low heart rates, adding miles when I feel good isn't such a disaster! I'm excited about this little experiment and to see how I feel during it!
Friday, April 29, 2011
30 for 30
Hello family and friends!
As many of you know, I'm turning 30 on June 20th. As fewer of you may know, I am running the Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN on June 18th. Due to its proximity to my birthday, I thought it would be fun (yes, fun) to add on 3.8 miles to the normal 26.2 of the marathon to run 30 miles for 30 years.
Until now, running marathons has always been a very personal and almost selfish thing. Through that, all of you have offered me more encouragement and support than I could possible imagine. I hope to transfer that to something bigger than me. While the 30 for 30 milestone is a huge one for me, I also know that I'm so lucky to be able to do so and that I can use this opportunity to give something back to people whose lives are changed in an instant.
I have decided to raise money for the charity ShelterBox in honor of my "30 miles for 30 years" run at this year's Grandma's Marathon.
ShelterBox is an amazing organization that I learned about a few years ago during my time with the Rotaract Club at the UN in NYC. They provide boxes that supply up to 10 people with temporary shelter and essential supplies after displacement due to natural disasters. You can learn all about their mission and the incredible work they've done at http://www.shelterbox.org/.
The cost of one such box is $1000, which is my fundraising goal. You can link directly to my fundraising page at the following website:
https://shelterboxusa.myet
I know everyone is watching their pennies these days, but please consider donating to ShelterBox as part of your tax-deductible charity budget this year.
Again, thanks for your donation and I - and ShelterBox and the hundreds of thousands of families they have already helped - appreciate for your support.
As many of you know, I'm turning 30 on June 20th. As fewer of you may know, I am running the Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN on June 18th. Due to its proximity to my birthday, I thought it would be fun (yes, fun) to add on 3.8 miles to the normal 26.2 of the marathon to run 30 miles for 30 years.
Until now, running marathons has always been a very personal and almost selfish thing. Through that, all of you have offered me more encouragement and support than I could possible imagine. I hope to transfer that to something bigger than me. While the 30 for 30 milestone is a huge one for me, I also know that I'm so lucky to be able to do so and that I can use this opportunity to give something back to people whose lives are changed in an instant.
I have decided to raise money for the charity ShelterBox in honor of my "30 miles for 30 years" run at this year's Grandma's Marathon.
ShelterBox is an amazing organization that I learned about a few years ago during my time with the Rotaract Club at the UN in NYC. They provide boxes that supply up to 10 people with temporary shelter and essential supplies after displacement due to natural disasters. You can learn all about their mission and the incredible work they've done at http://www.shelterbox.org/.
The cost of one such box is $1000, which is my fundraising goal. You can link directly to my fundraising page at the following website:
https://shelterboxusa.myet
I know everyone is watching their pennies these days, but please consider donating to ShelterBox as part of your tax-deductible charity budget this year.
Again, thanks for your donation and I - and ShelterBox and the hundreds of thousands of families they have already helped - appreciate for your support.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Boston 2011
Pre-Race
Following my 3:18 marathon in January, my plan was to add 2 easy weeks onto Pfitz’s 12-weeks-between-marathon plan and basically decide along the way what my time goal would be. I had never done two marathons in such close succession before, so I wanted to stay tuned to my body to figure out if it would let me actually race Boston for time rather than just to finish.
And just like that, life gets in the way of the most well-laid plans. For the first 6 weeks, I was still in Israel but running through a broken heart. For the second 6 weeks, I was running in Tucson and just trying to check off the miles, the one thing I could really control. Needless to say, I had none of my usual fitness gauges along the way. There were no tune-up races I could get to easily. I couldn’t tell based on how I felt at certain paces on my familiar routes how good of shape I was in because there were no familiar routes. I was a mental mess during any and all track workouts. My one MP workout was done into a wall of 30 mph wind gusts. But I got the miles in. I felt healthy. By the time I started my taper, I figured I hadn’t lost any fitness, but that I wouldn’t be able to count on much of a PR. Initially, a 3:15 goal entered into my head when I knew several other RWOLers wanted to meet that goal, and it was a nice round number. It had nothing to do with what I thought I could do. But, it gave me a goal off which to design my gmaclin pace band, and a group to start with in the corrals. It also gave me some extra pre-race discipline and another reason to get excited, in addition to the prospect of ending my self-imposed life quarantine and hanging out with all my imaginary, but oh-so-real, RWOL friends.
Race Weekend
The social aspect of the Boston marathon has to be included in any race report. I am lucky to share such a strong camaraderie with folks from all over the world through the RWOL Boston Forums. I had met many over the past 2 years, but even more remained “imaginary” until this weekend. I had a blast being GoAnnie’s roommate, drinking too much beer on Friday with the infamous instigators iRun, and welshgirl – although CGruett, RD, bird, vitadolce, Kari, KJ, AlaskaWrestler, and dcv were certainly not hard to convince.
Saturday meant more gallivanting with forumites at the Expo, at the mall, and in the North End for dinner. And, of course, at the Beerworks party. It’s great to be able to jump right over the silly small talk and feel comfortable with people you’ve technically never met! I met IndyNate and MichRunR, who were two of my 3:15-or-bust group. I got to meet Lap’d on Sunday morning, and I knew we’d have a great little group of runners together!
Sunday morning I did a 3-mile shakeout run with the Aussie-load sprint routine, followed by 1.5 servings of UltraFuel over the next hour or so. Sunday was pretty low-key, and after a small and early dinner with the ladies on Sunday night, it was back to the hotel to get organized and relax with The 40 Year Old Virgin on tv and an early bedtime.
Sunday morning I did a 3-mile shakeout run with the Aussie-load sprint routine, followed by 1.5 servings of UltraFuel over the next hour or so. Sunday was pretty low-key, and after a small and early dinner with the ladies on Sunday night, it was back to the hotel to get organized and relax with The 40 Year Old Virgin on tv and an early bedtime.
Race Day
I was up at 4:45 to meet a small group of runners at the hotel who wanted to be on the first busses at 6:00. I felt pretty well-rested and energetic and definitely in a good mood.
We were some of the first to get to the red dot, where the time passed incredibly quickly between securing the paceband, bib, sunscreen, BodyGlide, ponytail, gels, hat, bladder control, etc. etc.
I had 3 servings of UltraFuel that I had finished by about 7:00. I had done the UltraFuel routine before long runs in the past, so the slight unsettled feeling in my stomach wasn’t a surprise and didn’t worry me. Before we knew it, it was time for the 3:15 group to head to the corrals! Once we got in the corrals, we noticed we were next to Rock and Tadpole, and the time passed quickly joking around and keeping the mood light. It took several minutes to get to the starting line after the gun went off, and I found it amusing that people started to jog before actually crossing the starting line, only to be forced to stop and walk again. I had my paceband set for a slow start and a moderate fade, giving me paces ranging from 7:45 (first mile and Heartbreak) to 7:12 (yikes). I figured I’d stick to it as closely as possible the first half, see what happened on the hills, and then just gut it out the last 5 miles. And we were off!
We were some of the first to get to the red dot, where the time passed incredibly quickly between securing the paceband, bib, sunscreen, BodyGlide, ponytail, gels, hat, bladder control, etc. etc.
I had 3 servings of UltraFuel that I had finished by about 7:00. I had done the UltraFuel routine before long runs in the past, so the slight unsettled feeling in my stomach wasn’t a surprise and didn’t worry me. Before we knew it, it was time for the 3:15 group to head to the corrals! Once we got in the corrals, we noticed we were next to Rock and Tadpole, and the time passed quickly joking around and keeping the mood light. It took several minutes to get to the starting line after the gun went off, and I found it amusing that people started to jog before actually crossing the starting line, only to be forced to stop and walk again. I had my paceband set for a slow start and a moderate fade, giving me paces ranging from 7:45 (first mile and Heartbreak) to 7:12 (yikes). I figured I’d stick to it as closely as possible the first half, see what happened on the hills, and then just gut it out the last 5 miles. And we were off!
Oh yeah, there was running
Miles 1-5: Getting in the groove (7:50/7:32/7:15/7:25/7:30).
All the paces were really close, +/- 5 seconds. There was a lot of dodging, but the group all stayed in sight. I could tell that Nate was behind me even if I couldn’t see him because of the cheers – he had his name written in large letters on his shirt. At some point fairly early, Lap’d remarked that the pace seemed slow. I said that was a good thing, and she slowly but surely pulled ahead to her eventual 3:13 finish. We ran into Jonathan A pretty early on, who also went on to an awesome PR.
I felt pretty smooth and confident during these miles, and didn’t feel much early-mile creaking or tightness. I was alternating water and Gatorade and took a gel at mile 5. My stomach churned a bit but nothing too serious. I wanted to be diligent about fluids because it was hot enough that it would be a potential problem if I didn’t.
Miles 6-11: Dialing in (7:23/7:24/7:25/7:24/7:27/7:29).
This is the one portion of the race where a groove is at all possible. According to my splits through here, I was definitely there. There were some awesome crowds around 8-9 who advertised they were drunk already. A sign for a shortcut was actually not tempting, although humorous. I just wanted to keep feeling this way until Newton. Strong and steady. The only bad part through here was my first though about peeling off for a bathroom, but decided to stick to mostly water instead of Gatorade and thought I’d be fine. Another Gu at mile 11. Almost to Wellesley, and Nate and I were still leapfrogging and together.
Miles 12-16: Feeling it (7:18/7:29/7:19/7:27/7:10).
I cruised through the Wellesley scream tunnel, blowing kisses, but reminding myself to rein it in and not let myself get too pumped up from the crowd. I was successful, but definitely started noticing how tired my quads already were. I also noticed I stopped hearing Nate’s name and realized I had lost him. I hit the half in 1:37.47, perfectly on for an even-split 3:15. The state of my legs really had me worried what Newton would bring and I struggled here a bit mentally. I remember looking down at my paceband before mile 16 and cursing about the 7:12 pace it had for me. Surprisingly, I pushed through it, glaring at the “Entering Newton” sign as I passed. I had a lot of work to do the next 5 miles.
Miles 17-21: Hello, hills (7:33/7:41/7:21/7:42/8:00).
When I ran Boston 2 years ago, I remember being challenged by the hills but not killed by them. Not so this year. I basically just needed to get up and over them without stopping, paceband be damned. I was pretty rejected when I saw that 8:00 split, but considering how I felt trying to get up Heartbreak, it could have been a lot worse. I knew the last 5 miles were going to be painful. But, they would be painful if I was running 7:30 or 9:00, so I knew I just had to endure.
Miles 22-25: Who needs quads, anyway? (7:20/7:36/7:24/7:41)
The paceband had been ripped off. I knew looking at the goal paces wouldn’t actually do anything for my paces: it was all heart at this point. My quads were screaming, my stomach was noticeably queasy, and I just had to press on and run. I let the crowds pull me through, and did notice I was passing people even though I felt like I was plodding along. I tried to focus on my form, even though it was shot to hell. Anytime anyone yelled “looking strong, Erin,” my first thought was to scoff, “yeah, right” but used it to at least pretend I was having a strong finish. I blindly hit the lap button on my Garmin without checking my splits, knowing I’d probably have a PR but the 3:15 would probably be just out of reach. At some point that last mile, Rock flew by me, telling me to look for Sully and “let’s do this!” Then, the Citgo sign appeared (although, seriously, who put that hill there this year?!) and I knew I was in the home stretch and just needed to hold on.
Mile 26.2: Down-up-right-up(?!)-left-----------finish (7:37/1:36[6:50 pace]) 3:16.32/26.41 miles
No offense Sully, but a cannoli would have made me puke. Looking for the cannoli would have made me puke. Doing anything but getting to the finish line would have made me puke. So, I got myself there. There was no kick. I am convinced the hill on Hereford did not exist before. I am convinced the course was stretched between the turn onto Boylston and the finish. I knew every step was bringing me closer, but it was like one of those nightmares where the finish kept moving away as I ran towards it. Mean tricks the mind plays. But then, I realized I had to position myself away from the dudes around me to be visible in my finish line photo. That I wouldn’t get the 3:15 but I would get a nice PR. That Rock was hanging out on the other side of the finish line with a big, sweaty hug. That Sailrun saw me from the back and served as my Gatorade-grabber and post-race analyst. That lifting my knees up caused my hipflexors to scream. That my GI tract needed a bathroom, stat (or, as it turned out, Guinness and a cannoli at Jury’s).
And then, it was onto the party! Three cheers for good friends!
Post-race thoughts
I forgot how hard Boston is. I only momentarily and very temporarily felt in a groove, where I had hit a pace I could hold all day. This course does not allow that – there is constant adjustment and readjustment of pace and effort. Looking at my average HR of 172, I know I was on the low end of where I should be for a marathon. What limited me? Was it mental? Was it the quad-trashing? I am convinced I couldn’t have found another 1:30 on the course that day. I’m also convinced I can run faster. I think the positives of the UF outweighed its apparent affect on my tummy, since it wasn't so bad at the end and I never hit the wall, but I'll have to play around more with amounts and timing. It has me mulling over my training plan for the summer before NYC in November. Do I stick with Pfitz? Do I use Daniels in order to bump the mileage up a bit (but not as much as the next Pfitz jump would be)? Do I do more long, slow base-building or focus on speed? In the meantime, I’m giving myself a bit of time to just run, even though I have my 30-miler on June 18th to finish.
I signed up for Boston not knowing what role it would play in my life. It gave me a goal, a purpose, and a transition from one point of my life to another. Maybe it will also serve as a transition in my running life as well, as I think about what my new goals and purposes will be.
Friday, April 8, 2011
So that's kind of pretty, right? With almost 1000 ft in elevation gain, running here in Sabino Canyon probably won't happen again before Boston, which means it won't happen again until I'm back in Tucson. Whenever that will be. Today's 7.5 there was just the way to say goodbye!
As an aside, see the chick in black capris and the Camelback? Her Garmin was beeping, I'm not kidding, every 20 seconds. I counted. TG I was faster than her :)
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Such a tease.
5 mile recovery runs during the taper are such a tease. I want to run faster. I want to run farther. It is an absolutely gorgeous morning in Tucson and I had to stop after 5. I want to go do it again. Lalalala...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The runner returns.
I’ve been trying to make a “blog decision” over the last few weeks, and I’ve decided to revive this one and put my “Goya in Israel” one to rest. That one had to be retired for obvious reasons, I suppose, but it’s hard to actually close that chapter. In all ways, not just in my blog-life.
So, here I am, dusting off Erin Runs. It seems completely appropriate. Through all the turmoil of the last few months, and all the turmoil that has yet to settle, running has given me my one taste of solid ground, at least for the time I’m on on the road.
With every run, I feel a layer of anxiety and stress and depression and crud dissolve. That layer floats off, no longer having a hold on me. It may have left its mark, but each run allows me to let it go so it no longer can control me.
If I’m lucky, I won’t add another layer between runs. I try to hold onto that feeling of freedom and optimism and hope. Some days I have success; some days it feels like more layers were added than are taken off. But I keep running, hoping to tip the balance. Hoping that at some point, those layers will come off a little more effortlessly.
As my future appears vast and empty and, quite frankly, scary, running has also given me beacons of destination along the way. I’m running the Boston Marathon in 12 short days. The excitement and anticipation of preparing for a race has given me something concrete to focus on and distract my swimming mind. More than that, though, it’s given me a community of runners with whom to interact and meet that weekend. My imaginary friends on the RWOL Boston forum have truly pulled me along through much of this process, and it seems so fitting to be able to share this weekend with them. For me, it represents the next step in moving on and getting out of my own head long enough to actually relax and have fun. That weekend, no one will be judging or taking notes on jobs or relationships or pressuring me to make a decision. Instead, there will be laughing, talking, shopping, eating, laughing, drinking, flirting, laughing, and a little bit of running – all the good things in life that I still have, despite everything. Thinking about that weekend has gotten me in that blissful state of anticipation - when you're so excited for something that you almost don't want it to happen because looking forward to it is just so much fun.
And in June, I will run 30 miles for my 30th birthday at the Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth, MN. The marathon happens to be 2 days before the big 3-0. I’d love to also do it as a fundraiser, and I’m mulling over which charity I’d like to serve. Stay tuned!
And so, ever onward, ever onward. As my legs travel the miles, so my spirit is lifted and my hope returns.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Boston, baby.
Race Report: 113th Boston Marathon; Monday, April 20th, 2009
Pre-race
Coming off a fall marathon (my qualifying at Hamptons in September) and training through a move abroad and the adjustment to life here in Israel left me burned out and almost apathetic towards a time goal for Boston. On top of that, training on a new terrain – one with hills and trails, making it the antithesis of my comfortable Manhattan runs – and having a new schedule made me completely doubtful of my fitness level. I could only hope the hills were making me stronger and, even though I had never laid eyes on Heartbreak Hill before, I couldn’t imagine that it could be any steeper or harder than the hills I encountered on my daily runs. At least this is what I told myself to keep on pushing during training. I loosely followed Pfitz 12/70. My long runs always felt great, and I got in 6 runs of 17+ miles between the end of January and the April race, peaking at 22 miles. My weekly mileage peaked at 70 mpw – a record high for me that was only bittersweet due to the fact that I was ready to be d-o-n-e training so it was mentally taxing (see “things I’ve learned” below).
Now for the fun pre-race: I made the trip from Israel via a work trip to Basel, Switzerland the week preceding Boston. I flew in to New York City to visit friends (and because it was cheaper) and my mom found a last-minute fare to join me, flying in from Tucson. We boarded a Greyhound bus on Saturday morning. Four hours and several hazardous trips to the bathroom later, we pulled into South Station. Since we arrived around noon and the hotel didn’t allow check-ins until 4, we preceded directly to the expo at the Hynes Convention Center. Thankfully we packed light, because our bags seemed HUGE at the end of the day after lugging them all over Boston. The expo was enormous, and after doing my duty of picking up my number and buying a Celebration jacket, my mom and I quickly got a bit overwhelmed by the expo. That is perhaps sacrilegious for a runner to say, but don’t worry, I got my fill of free samples and watched the video of the course. I also ran into several of the ladies from the Runner’s World online Boston forum – Kari, Lisa, Annie, and Shannon. My mom knows all about my internet friends, and found it hilarious that Kari and I could recognize each other from across the crowd based on tiny little avatar pictures (what Mom doesn’t know is our ability to continue the stalking via Facebook, etc.!)
Our hotel was out in Quincy, and while it was far they were very accommodating with shuttles to the subway and to the bus loading area for the start of the race. We had dinner at a hotel restaurant before heading back into Boston to meet up with the RWOL crew at Boston Beerworks. Blueberry ale was the theme of the night, as was finally meeting the people I felt I already knew through our daily interactions on the online forums. Runners are congenial, outgoing people anyway – let alone when you’ve already “met” online.
Sunday was a day to sleep in, get a couple of TM miles and stretching in to loosen up the ol’ legs, and to take an Old Time Trolley Tour of the city. I was, unfortunately, perhaps not the best company for my mom to see Boston for the first time as I didn’t want to walk around too much, but this was a perfect way to see the city without wearing my legs down. Plus, we could get off right at the finish line for the obligatory “here’s where I’ll be tomorrow” photos. We then met Elizabeth and Kristin, two dear friends from high school now living in the Boston area, for dinner in the North End of Boston. The area was crawling with blue jackets and yellow shirts and a general festival atmosphere as all the runners descended on this Italian neighborhood for their final carbo loading meal pre-race. We had a great meal and conversation over dinner and standing in line for Modern cannolis. Then, it was back to the hotel for an early bedtime and a plan for my mom to meet up with the girls to watch me during the race. I fell asleep quite easily after a hot shower and my cannoli.
Goals: 1 – sub-3:30; 2 – PR (sub-3:36); 3 – re-BQ (3:40); above all: have fun and enjoy my first Boston experience.
Race day
Alarm: 4:30 am. I had about every combination of outfit laid out and stuffed into my yellow race bag, as I was still completely undecided about what to wear based on the unpredictable Boston weather patterns. I boarded the hotel shuttle at 5:15 and ate a peanut butter sandwich en route. We were dropped off a few blocks from the race buses, and I chatted with someone from my hotel who had come from Japan for the race – someone who traveled farther! He had only arrived on Friday and was leaving already on Tuesday and was hoping his preference of nighttime running would help him as he wasn’t completely adjusted to the time difference. We were the first round of buses to start the journey to Hopkinton. I sat next to a retired police chief on the way to the start, hoping to redeem his past injury-ridden Boston appearances with this race. From the list of injuries he rattled off in his past few years of marathon running, I was inclined to advice him that maybe someone was telling him to take it easy, but that would be bad form wouldn’t it.
I knew I would have a long morning at the race village, and that I probably could have taken a later hotel shuttle and still make it in time, but I wanted to keep the nerves at bay for as long as possible, and being late wouldn’t help. In retrospect, I am glad I arrived early because there were no lines for the bagels, coffee, or portajohns. Yet. I found a place in the tent to lay down on plastic bags for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, take analysis of how I felt and my goals for the day while sipping on Gatorade. Later, I made my way to the “It all starts here” sign to socialize with the RWOL crew. I soaked in the jovial mood of my fellow runners and welcomed the distraction from overanalyzing my race before it even started. After chatting, waiting with Lisa in the longest portajohn line EVER, and doing my final wardrobe adjustments, number pinning, and BodyGlide applying, the time went by fairly quickly. Before I knew it, it was time to make our way to the starting line for the start of the second wave. I was in the first corral so wanted to make sure I was up as far as possible to take advantage of not having a ton of people in front of me. In the corral, I ran into Jen from the RWOL group who I knew was also hoping for a 3:30. We also both had very similar qualifying times and a lot of the same thoughts about the feasibility of our goals.
The race!
Miles 1-3 (8:08, 7:58, 7:51): Starting off easy
I had the famous Greg pacing wristband pinned to my bib that I promptly didn’t use. I wanted to aim for 8 minute miles no matter what. With all my training on hills, if I had confidence in one thing it was that I knew how to recover after uphills and use the downhills to my advantage. I didn’t want to pull in the reins too much on downhills in order to hit a certain pace. That said, I wanted to make sure my first mile was over 8 minutes, so I was happy with these splits. At this point, my legs felt fine and I was just concerned about getting into a good groove with my pace. Definitely was thankful for being in the first corral because there was almost no maneuvering to get around slower people. The crowds here were great – I loved having the support at the beginning. 5K split: 24:45
Miles 4-9 (8:00, 8:09. 8:03, 8:05, 8:18, 8:28): What’s wrong with my legs? And my shoelaces?
During these miles, I found myself really struggling to feel good. I kept concentrating on hitting my pace, but I never felt like I was smooth. To top it off, my right foot kept falling asleep. Did this happen – ever – in any of my long runs? Of course not. I had to stop twice to retie my shoe (as evident by my splits from miles 8 and 9). The first time I stopped, some kid shouted, “Hey, you’re supposed to be running! What are you doing?” I wanted to smack him, I was already pissed enough I had to stop for the freaking shoe. I don’t know, my legs just didn’t feel “on.” Maybe it was the constant downhill? Or my feet? Who knows. 10K split: 49:52; 15K split: 1:15:28
Miles 10-13 (7:57, 8:05, 7:45, 7:54): Holy shit I’m running Boston.
For as bad as my legs felt, I was having a blast. The crowds were more interspersed than others I’ve run, especially NYC, but where there were people, they were loud. I kept smiling as I saw the different town signs: Ashland, Framingham, Nantick, Wellesley. Running slower didn’t help me feel any better, so I just kept trying to aim for 8 minute miles. I was also using the km markers for the first time ever – I knew 8 minute miles = 5 minute kilometers, so if I would look down at my watch and see my elapsed time around a multiple of 5, I wasn’t doing too badly. It was sometime during these miles that I had my “holy shit I’m running freaking Boston” moment. Maybe it was the famous screams of the Wellesley girls, maybe it was seeing the crowds thicken as we got within commuter rail-distance from Boston, maybe it was the gel I consumed at mile 7, maybe it was an internal light bulb. Whatever the reason, I remember a very distinct chill coursing through me and almost being on the verge of tears with the emotion of running this race. It was also by the half point my legs started perking up. I think the crowds offered a huge distraction, as I made a point to high five people, so I stopped thinking about how gross my legs felt and just… ran. I also encountered Jen again in these miles, who also mentioned not feeling completely up to par. She said she was actually looking forward to the hills, and I found myself thinking the same – at least I’d use different muscles in a few miles. 20K split: 1:40:10; Half split: 1:45:33
Miles 14-17 (8:02, 8:02, 7:45, 8:12): No-man’s land
I popped a gel at Mile 14 and I started looking for my fan club around mile 15. It was a welcome distraction to scan the crowds and keep my mind off the impending hills. As we made our way over the overpass, I remember having read a tip about not being surprised by this incline, and I was thankful – both because I could anticipate the incline and because it wasn’t really so bad. As I was stuffing gels I had picked up at the pit stop ~mile 16.5 into my bra, I saw my mom and my friends on the side. I ran over their way, threw them some air kisses, and proceeded on with an extra spring to my step. However, I think I gave a few firemen a death glare as I passed the Newton firehouse, remembering that another tip I’d read mentioned: “the hills start here.” I think it was also somewhere in here I heard “Erin? From Israel” from another runner, and found Ari – an Israeli now living in the States from the RWOL forum. We waved, said good luck, and continued on our separate paces. Jen and I also found each other again, gave each other a few words of encouragement for the hills, and pressed on. 25K split: 2:05:00
Miles 18-21 (8:04, 8:00, 8:02, 8:07): What hills?
In any marathon, this is the do-or-die point. If you’re feeling good, you start picking people off. If you’re feeling crappy, you try to ignore the fact you’re being passed and still have >6 miles to go. The challenge of Boston: the hills are during this already difficult stage of the marathon. For all the doubting I had done regarding my training, they were erased as soon as I hit the first hill. It was nothing compared to those on my normal training routes, and there was time in between the hills to recover – something I knew I could do fairly easily. Jen was right with me, her Colorado training paying off on the hills as well. Each split was a surprise, giving extra fuel to get over the next hill. Before I knew it, I found myself cruising up Heartbreak Hill. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked and was hard, but I knew what I had to do: make it to the top. I focused on a spot ~20 feet in front of me, concentrated on moving my arms, and let the sounds of the crowds wash over me. My mantra of “fuck you, hill” didn’t hurt, either. Upon cresting the hill, I yelled something unintelligible at the woman with the CBS camera, and wanted to hug someone. But there was still 10K to run. The hugs would come later. 30K split: 2:29:55; 35K: 2:54:33
Miles 22-26.2 (7:39, 7:49, 7:37, 7:50, 9:16(1.2): Right on Hereford, left on Boylston
All I can say about these miles is: adrenaline, baby. I had lost Jen somewhere on Heartbreak Hill and pretended she was chasing me. I let the crowds yelling my name pull me on. I cursed the gusts of wind as they hit me sideways. I felt my quads burning but not failing me and powered through the miles. Boston College: check. Beacon Street: check. Citgo sign: check. Cursing the minor undulations of the course wreaking havoc on my muscles: check (who put that stupid down-up under that bridge in the final miles??). The crowds here were absolutely spectacular. I felt like I was flying and I don’t think I stopped smiling as I cruised through the streets of Boston. The turn onto Hereford surprised me. The turn onto Boylston was breathtaking (or maybe that was the previous 25.9 miles?). I heard a woman near me exclaim “holy shit” and I couldn’t say it any better myself. There is a slight decline towards the finish, a straight shot, and you can see the finish line with the people lined up on the sidewalks like an arrow leading you home. My blood-deprived brain was still able to do enough runner math to figure out that a 3:30 was well within my reach. Now I wanted that clock to say 3:29:xx in my finish photos. One final kick and I was home. 40K split: 3:18:38; 3:29:05 official time. 6990/22,849 overall place; 1110/9,303 gender place; 895/5,023 division place
Post race
About 10 seconds after I had finished, Jen came up to me saying “we did it!!!” They were both the 3:29s that almost weren’t. I shuffled along, feeling about the worst post-race as I ever have – cold, crampy, hungry, thirsty. I almost couldn’t get my leg up to have my chip removed, but the woman’s cheery voice helped me on. It seemed forever until the mylar blankets appeared. But they finally did, along with Gatorade, food and water. The shuffling was fairly well organized, in that my speed through the stations was only limited my by own leg speed and not being stuck behind another shuffler. I found the bus where my gear was, and here the wait seemed eternal because I was so. Cold. The bra and arm warmers were borderline enough while running but now were far from adequate even with the blanket. Finally I was able to pull on my fleece and pants – which took support from the side of a truck to maneuver. I shuffled to the family waiting area and the letter B, which was unfortunately right at the exit and full of people, both Bs and non-Bs. I borrowed the phone of a kind stranger to call my mom, who of course didn’t answer. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, to my relief I saw Kristin (the tallest of my fan club). We gathered everyone for hugs and photos and made our way across Boston Common to give my legs a little more movement and to get to the T stop. Thanks, Liz and Kristin for being there!
Exhausted, hungry, and cold, the T ride was a torture. As were the stairs, although taking them backwards didn’t garner that many strange looks as many others were doing the same. But I talked to my dad on the phone (who was tracking online and serving as a guide for my mom and friends as they wanted to know where on the course I would be at what time). In the hotel room, I entertained my mom by taking an ice bath – I think she thought this was nuttier than the actual marathon thing. Post-marathon showers always rank up there on the best shower in my life list, and this was no exception. By this time, my stomach was controlling all my decisions, so forgoing a nap, we made our way to the hotel restaurant to fill my craving of a burger and a beer. Satiated, we schlepped back to Boston for the post-race FE with the RWOL peeps. It was amazing to hang out with everyone post-race: to celebrate the PRs and rehash the great moments; to mourn the what-ifs and races not up to expectations. Regardless of how people ran, they were happy to be among friends and cohorts.
The next morning, it was back on a bus to NYC. Seriously, one of the best experiences of my life, all around. I’m so glad I made the trip and could share this experience with the RWOL crew.
Things I learned
1. Running a fall and spring marathon combo and training as hard as I did for each was too much. I know I can run 70 mpw in a training plan now, so that’s a plus, but it might have been too much of a jump from my previous training. Not in an injury-prone way, but in a mentally tiring way. I found myself, in the last couple weeks pre-taper, saying “I have to run x miles on this day at x pace” and that is not the way I like to run. I need a break – this summer = just running.
2. For as much of a lone wolf as I am, running-wise, sharing this experience with a group of people was truly special. It made the whole experience completely different. Not only was I running for them, so to speak, but also the weekend was about so much more than just my race – it was about their races and meeting them.
3. I am successful when I take the first miles of a marathon nice and easy. Not banking time, but keeping within my pace and not getting too excited. I’m great running on adrenaline and guts at the end, and as long as I don’t overdo it at the beginning, I’ll always have that quality working for me at the end.
4. Training on hills works, even if the paces of my runs are depressing.
5. I have an amazing boyfriend for putting up with this marathon mania. I’ve run marathons since we’ve been dating, but we hadn’t lived together, and I don’t think he realized how crazy it makes my schedule. And yet, he never complained and I felt nothing but support and pride from him. I’m lucky.
6. I’m also lucky to have a supportive family. So many runners’ parents “don’t get it,” and mine do. It’s pretty awesome.Race Report: 113th Boston Marathon; Monday, April 20th, 2009
Pre-race
Coming off a fall marathon (my qualifying at Hamptons in September) and training through a move abroad and the adjustment to life here in Israel left me burned out and almost apathetic towards a time goal for Boston. On top of that, training on a new terrain – one with hills and trails, making it the antithesis of my comfortable Manhattan runs – and having a new schedule made me completely doubtful of my fitness level. I could only hope the hills were making me stronger and, even though I had never laid eyes on Heartbreak Hill before, I couldn’t imagine that it could be any steeper or harder than the hills I encountered on my daily runs. At least this is what I told myself to keep on pushing during training. I loosely followed Pfitz 12/70. My long runs always felt great, and I got in 6 runs of 17+ miles between the end of January and the April race, peaking at 22 miles. My weekly mileage peaked at 70 mpw – a record high for me that was only bittersweet due to the fact that I was ready to be d-o-n-e training so it was mentally taxing (see “things I’ve learned” below).
Now for the fun pre-race: I made the trip from Israel via a work trip to Basel, Switzerland the week preceding Boston. I flew in to New York City to visit friends (and because it was cheaper) and my mom found a last-minute fare to join me, flying in from Tucson. We boarded a Greyhound bus on Saturday morning. Four hours and several hazardous trips to the bathroom later, we pulled into South Station. Since we arrived around noon and the hotel didn’t allow check-ins until 4, we preceded directly to the expo at the Hynes Convention Center. Thankfully we packed light, because our bags seemed HUGE at the end of the day after lugging them all over Boston. The expo was enormous, and after doing my duty of picking up my number and buying a Celebration jacket, my mom and I quickly got a bit overwhelmed by the expo. That is perhaps sacrilegious for a runner to say, but don’t worry, I got my fill of free samples and watched the video of the course. I also ran into several of the ladies from the Runner’s World online Boston forum – Kari, Lisa, Annie, and Shannon. My mom knows all about my internet friends, and found it hilarious that Kari and I could recognize each other from across the crowd based on tiny little avatar pictures (what Mom doesn’t know is our ability to continue the stalking via Facebook, etc.!)
Our hotel was out in Quincy, and while it was far they were very accommodating with shuttles to the subway and to the bus loading area for the start of the race. We had dinner at a hotel restaurant before heading back into Boston to meet up with the RWOL crew at Boston Beerworks. Blueberry ale was the theme of the night, as was finally meeting the people I felt I already knew through our daily interactions on the online forums. Runners are congenial, outgoing people anyway – let alone when you’ve already “met” online.
Sunday was a day to sleep in, get a couple of TM miles and stretching in to loosen up the ol’ legs, and to take an Old Time Trolley Tour of the city. I was, unfortunately, perhaps not the best company for my mom to see Boston for the first time as I didn’t want to walk around too much, but this was a perfect way to see the city without wearing my legs down. Plus, we could get off right at the finish line for the obligatory “here’s where I’ll be tomorrow” photos. We then met Elizabeth and Kristin, two dear friends from high school now living in the Boston area, for dinner in the North End of Boston. The area was crawling with blue jackets and yellow shirts and a general festival atmosphere as all the runners descended on this Italian neighborhood for their final carbo loading meal pre-race. We had a great meal and conversation over dinner and standing in line for Modern cannolis. Then, it was back to the hotel for an early bedtime and a plan for my mom to meet up with the girls to watch me during the race. I fell asleep quite easily after a hot shower and my cannoli.
Goals: 1 – sub-3:30; 2 – PR (sub-3:36); 3 – re-BQ (3:40); above all: have fun and enjoy my first Boston experience.
Race day
Alarm: 4:30 am. I had about every combination of outfit laid out and stuffed into my yellow race bag, as I was still completely undecided about what to wear based on the unpredictable Boston weather patterns. I boarded the hotel shuttle at 5:15 and ate a peanut butter sandwich en route. We were dropped off a few blocks from the race buses, and I chatted with someone from my hotel who had come from Japan for the race – someone who traveled farther! He had only arrived on Friday and was leaving already on Tuesday and was hoping his preference of nighttime running would help him as he wasn’t completely adjusted to the time difference. We were the first round of buses to start the journey to Hopkinton. I sat next to a retired police chief on the way to the start, hoping to redeem his past injury-ridden Boston appearances with this race. From the list of injuries he rattled off in his past few years of marathon running, I was inclined to advice him that maybe someone was telling him to take it easy, but that would be bad form wouldn’t it.
I knew I would have a long morning at the race village, and that I probably could have taken a later hotel shuttle and still make it in time, but I wanted to keep the nerves at bay for as long as possible, and being late wouldn’t help. In retrospect, I am glad I arrived early because there were no lines for the bagels, coffee, or portajohns. Yet. I found a place in the tent to lay down on plastic bags for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, take analysis of how I felt and my goals for the day while sipping on Gatorade. Later, I made my way to the “It all starts here” sign to socialize with the RWOL crew. I soaked in the jovial mood of my fellow runners and welcomed the distraction from overanalyzing my race before it even started. After chatting, waiting with Lisa in the longest portajohn line EVER, and doing my final wardrobe adjustments, number pinning, and BodyGlide applying, the time went by fairly quickly. Before I knew it, it was time to make our way to the starting line for the start of the second wave. I was in the first corral so wanted to make sure I was up as far as possible to take advantage of not having a ton of people in front of me. In the corral, I ran into Jen from the RWOL group who I knew was also hoping for a 3:30. We also both had very similar qualifying times and a lot of the same thoughts about the feasibility of our goals.
The race!
Miles 1-3 (8:08, 7:58, 7:51): Starting off easy
I had the famous Greg pacing wristband pinned to my bib that I promptly didn’t use. I wanted to aim for 8 minute miles no matter what. With all my training on hills, if I had confidence in one thing it was that I knew how to recover after uphills and use the downhills to my advantage. I didn’t want to pull in the reins too much on downhills in order to hit a certain pace. That said, I wanted to make sure my first mile was over 8 minutes, so I was happy with these splits. At this point, my legs felt fine and I was just concerned about getting into a good groove with my pace. Definitely was thankful for being in the first corral because there was almost no maneuvering to get around slower people. The crowds here were great – I loved having the support at the beginning. 5K split: 24:45
Miles 4-9 (8:00, 8:09. 8:03, 8:05, 8:18, 8:28): What’s wrong with my legs? And my shoelaces?
During these miles, I found myself really struggling to feel good. I kept concentrating on hitting my pace, but I never felt like I was smooth. To top it off, my right foot kept falling asleep. Did this happen – ever – in any of my long runs? Of course not. I had to stop twice to retie my shoe (as evident by my splits from miles 8 and 9). The first time I stopped, some kid shouted, “Hey, you’re supposed to be running! What are you doing?” I wanted to smack him, I was already pissed enough I had to stop for the freaking shoe. I don’t know, my legs just didn’t feel “on.” Maybe it was the constant downhill? Or my feet? Who knows. 10K split: 49:52; 15K split: 1:15:28
Miles 10-13 (7:57, 8:05, 7:45, 7:54): Holy shit I’m running Boston.
For as bad as my legs felt, I was having a blast. The crowds were more interspersed than others I’ve run, especially NYC, but where there were people, they were loud. I kept smiling as I saw the different town signs: Ashland, Framingham, Nantick, Wellesley. Running slower didn’t help me feel any better, so I just kept trying to aim for 8 minute miles. I was also using the km markers for the first time ever – I knew 8 minute miles = 5 minute kilometers, so if I would look down at my watch and see my elapsed time around a multiple of 5, I wasn’t doing too badly. It was sometime during these miles that I had my “holy shit I’m running freaking Boston” moment. Maybe it was the famous screams of the Wellesley girls, maybe it was seeing the crowds thicken as we got within commuter rail-distance from Boston, maybe it was the gel I consumed at mile 7, maybe it was an internal light bulb. Whatever the reason, I remember a very distinct chill coursing through me and almost being on the verge of tears with the emotion of running this race. It was also by the half point my legs started perking up. I think the crowds offered a huge distraction, as I made a point to high five people, so I stopped thinking about how gross my legs felt and just… ran. I also encountered Jen again in these miles, who also mentioned not feeling completely up to par. She said she was actually looking forward to the hills, and I found myself thinking the same – at least I’d use different muscles in a few miles. 20K split: 1:40:10; Half split: 1:45:33
Miles 14-17 (8:02, 8:02, 7:45, 8:12): No-man’s land
I popped a gel at Mile 14 and I started looking for my fan club around mile 15. It was a welcome distraction to scan the crowds and keep my mind off the impending hills. As we made our way over the overpass, I remember having read a tip about not being surprised by this incline, and I was thankful – both because I could anticipate the incline and because it wasn’t really so bad. As I was stuffing gels I had picked up at the pit stop ~mile 16.5 into my bra, I saw my mom and my friends on the side. I ran over their way, threw them some air kisses, and proceeded on with an extra spring to my step. However, I think I gave a few firemen a death glare as I passed the Newton firehouse, remembering that another tip I’d read mentioned: “the hills start here.” I think it was also somewhere in here I heard “Erin? From Israel” from another runner, and found Ari – an Israeli now living in the States from the RWOL forum. We waved, said good luck, and continued on our separate paces. Jen and I also found each other again, gave each other a few words of encouragement for the hills, and pressed on. 25K split: 2:05:00
Miles 18-21 (8:04, 8:00, 8:02, 8:07): What hills?
In any marathon, this is the do-or-die point. If you’re feeling good, you start picking people off. If you’re feeling crappy, you try to ignore the fact you’re being passed and still have >6 miles to go. The challenge of Boston: the hills are during this already difficult stage of the marathon. For all the doubting I had done regarding my training, they were erased as soon as I hit the first hill. It was nothing compared to those on my normal training routes, and there was time in between the hills to recover – something I knew I could do fairly easily. Jen was right with me, her Colorado training paying off on the hills as well. Each split was a surprise, giving extra fuel to get over the next hill. Before I knew it, I found myself cruising up Heartbreak Hill. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked and was hard, but I knew what I had to do: make it to the top. I focused on a spot ~20 feet in front of me, concentrated on moving my arms, and let the sounds of the crowds wash over me. My mantra of “fuck you, hill” didn’t hurt, either. Upon cresting the hill, I yelled something unintelligible at the woman with the CBS camera, and wanted to hug someone. But there was still 10K to run. The hugs would come later. 30K split: 2:29:55; 35K: 2:54:33
Miles 22-26.2 (7:39, 7:49, 7:37, 7:50, 9:16(1.2): Right on Hereford, left on Boylston
All I can say about these miles is: adrenaline, baby. I had lost Jen somewhere on Heartbreak Hill and pretended she was chasing me. I let the crowds yelling my name pull me on. I cursed the gusts of wind as they hit me sideways. I felt my quads burning but not failing me and powered through the miles. Boston College: check. Beacon Street: check. Citgo sign: check. Cursing the minor undulations of the course wreaking havoc on my muscles: check (who put that stupid down-up under that bridge in the final miles??). The crowds here were absolutely spectacular. I felt like I was flying and I don’t think I stopped smiling as I cruised through the streets of Boston. The turn onto Hereford surprised me. The turn onto Boylston was breathtaking (or maybe that was the previous 25.9 miles?). I heard a woman near me exclaim “holy shit” and I couldn’t say it any better myself. There is a slight decline towards the finish, a straight shot, and you can see the finish line with the people lined up on the sidewalks like an arrow leading you home. My blood-deprived brain was still able to do enough runner math to figure out that a 3:30 was well within my reach. Now I wanted that clock to say 3:29:xx in my finish photos. One final kick and I was home. 40K split: 3:18:38; 3:29:05 official time. 6990/22,849 overall place; 1110/9,303 gender place; 895/5,023 division place
Post race
About 10 seconds after I had finished, Jen came up to me saying “we did it!!!” They were both the 3:29s that almost weren’t. I shuffled along, feeling about the worst post-race as I ever have – cold, crampy, hungry, thirsty. I almost couldn’t get my leg up to have my chip removed, but the woman’s cheery voice helped me on. It seemed forever until the mylar blankets appeared. But they finally did, along with Gatorade, food and water. The shuffling was fairly well organized, in that my speed through the stations was only limited my by own leg speed and not being stuck behind another shuffler. I found the bus where my gear was, and here the wait seemed eternal because I was so. Cold. The bra and arm warmers were borderline enough while running but now were far from adequate even with the blanket. Finally I was able to pull on my fleece and pants – which took support from the side of a truck to maneuver. I shuffled to the family waiting area and the letter B, which was unfortunately right at the exit and full of people, both Bs and non-Bs. I borrowed the phone of a kind stranger to call my mom, who of course didn’t answer. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, to my relief I saw Kristin (the tallest of my fan club). We gathered everyone for hugs and photos and made our way across Boston Common to give my legs a little more movement and to get to the T stop. Thanks, Liz and Kristin for being there!
Exhausted, hungry, and cold, the T ride was a torture. As were the stairs, although taking them backwards didn’t garner that many strange looks as many others were doing the same. But I talked to my dad on the phone (who was tracking online and serving as a guide for my mom and friends as they wanted to know where on the course I would be at what time). In the hotel room, I entertained my mom by taking an ice bath – I think she thought this was nuttier than the actual marathon thing. Post-marathon showers always rank up there on the best shower in my life list, and this was no exception. By this time, my stomach was controlling all my decisions, so forgoing a nap, we made our way to the hotel restaurant to fill my craving of a burger and a beer. Satiated, we schlepped back to Boston for the post-race FE with the RWOL peeps. It was amazing to hang out with everyone post-race: to celebrate the PRs and rehash the great moments; to mourn the what-ifs and races not up to expectations. Regardless of how people ran, they were happy to be among friends and cohorts.
The next morning, it was back on a bus to NYC. Seriously, one of the best experiences of my life, all around. I’m so glad I made the trip and could share this experience with the RWOL crew.
Things I learned
1. Running a fall and spring marathon combo and training as hard as I did for each was too much. I know I can run 70 mpw in a training plan now, so that’s a plus, but it might have been too much of a jump from my previous training. Not in an injury-prone way, but in a mentally tiring way. I found myself, in the last couple weeks pre-taper, saying “I have to run x miles on this day at x pace” and that is not the way I like to run. I need a break – this summer = just running.
2. For as much of a lone wolf as I am, running-wise, sharing this experience with a group of people was truly special. It made the whole experience completely different. Not only was I running for them, so to speak, but also the weekend was about so much more than just my race – it was about their races and meeting them.
3. I am successful when I take the first miles of a marathon nice and easy. Not banking time, but keeping within my pace and not getting too excited. I’m great running on adrenaline and guts at the end, and as long as I don’t overdo it at the beginning, I’ll always have that quality working for me at the end.
4. Training on hills works, even if the paces of my runs are depressing.
5. I have an amazing boyfriend for putting up with this marathon mania. I’ve run marathons since we’ve been dating, but we hadn’t lived together, and I don’t think he realized how crazy it makes my schedule. And yet, he never complained and I felt nothing but support and pride from him. I’m lucky.
6. I’m also lucky to have a supportive family. So many runners’ parents “don’t get it,” and mine do. It’s pretty awesome.Race Report: 113th Boston Marathon; Monday, April 20th, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Fun with Photoshop.
Last week I finally brought a camera on one of my runs. It was my way of slowing my effort down in an attempt to see if that is why my legs had felt so crappy lately. It had the additional side effect of making me appreciate what is around me. So, the fruits of my labors for you to enjoy:
hmm, the resolution is kind of crappy. Well, nevermind, it's the course overview. Click on it and it gets nice and clear.
A - starting out: the view as I leave the house at sunrise
B- down the street
C- leaving my neighborhood
D, E, F, G- no explanation necessary
H- Har (translation: Mt.) Tayyasim lookout
I, J- coming back down the mountain
K- the views are great but whyyyyyy can't I live at the bottom???
L, M- the home stretch!
hmm, the resolution is kind of crappy. Well, nevermind, it's the course overview. Click on it and it gets nice and clear.A - starting out: the view as I leave the house at sunrise
B- down the street
C- leaving my neighborhood
D, E, F, G- no explanation necessary
H- Har (translation: Mt.) Tayyasim lookout
I, J- coming back down the mountain
K- the views are great but whyyyyyy can't I live at the bottom???
L, M- the home stretch!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Resurfacing.
After a bit (!!) of a hiatus, I find myself needing to restart this ol' blog of mine. In part because training for Boston starts this week. And, in part, because this transitional phase of my life means there are plenty of thoughts swimming about in my head, and they need a place to land sometimes. I think this blog will be much more of a run-and-life blog now than a running blog. Although, I suppose at the end it's all the same, because as many runners can verify, most of these random thoughts and life realizations and epiphanies solidify from the ether on runs.
Running has become, in a way, my control point and foundation from the otherwise unfamiliar world I am in. I realize this could sound unhealthy in many ways, but I really do think it is helping me feel like myself, despite being in an unfamiliar country, with an unfamiliar language, getting used to an unfamiliar job after being an expert in my old one, driving on unfamiliar roads... It certainly is a shock to the system to go from complete routine and familiarity to the complete opposite. I can't even call it stress. Overwhelmed would be the most accurate description of my status quo. There are two times in the day I feel like ME: when I'm on a run or when I'm R's arms. The former has been there for me during all the stressful times in the past 5 years and is my proactive way of beating into submission any doubts or fears I have that this is going to work. Because it was on runs in NYC that I gained the courage to make the move and take this giant step. The latter is the symbol of why this is all worth it - the relationship with R we have dreamed of and worked for over the distance for so long.
So, it is with perfect timing I have chosen to train for a spring marathon: not only does my life need that constant right now, but I couldn't have chosen better climes in which to train. After a couple weeks of adjusting rest days, long run days and the alarm clock, I now find myself arising before the sun to run before work/Ulpan. This task is made exponentially easier by the fact that I am not forcing myself out into the winters to which I am accustomed. Instead, I don shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt and step out onto trails in the mountains outside Jerusalem. Every morning, as the sun rises, I find myself in breathtaking beauty. Every day the mountains are in a different mood. Sometimes dark and damp, other times misty and mysterious, other times bright and brilliant. Always magical. There has been a point on every run on my usual weekday routes where I round a corner to find a view that absolutely takes my breath away. Anticipating these moments as I'm tying my shoes and drinking my coffee makes the early morning alarms that much easier to bear.
I'll leave the technical aspects to my upcoming plan for another post. I am still, Type A(nal) that I am, still tracking mileage and times (even though the hills depressingly affect my times - although hopefully they will only help my Boston time and the shape of my legs) on my trusty Excel spreadsheet. Things have fluctuated a bit more than I would have normally liked heading into a training plan, but I still have managed to stay above 40 mpw. No matter, though - the mileage and training is now secondary to the fact that now, more than ever, it is my soul benefitting from the running.
Running has become, in a way, my control point and foundation from the otherwise unfamiliar world I am in. I realize this could sound unhealthy in many ways, but I really do think it is helping me feel like myself, despite being in an unfamiliar country, with an unfamiliar language, getting used to an unfamiliar job after being an expert in my old one, driving on unfamiliar roads... It certainly is a shock to the system to go from complete routine and familiarity to the complete opposite. I can't even call it stress. Overwhelmed would be the most accurate description of my status quo. There are two times in the day I feel like ME: when I'm on a run or when I'm R's arms. The former has been there for me during all the stressful times in the past 5 years and is my proactive way of beating into submission any doubts or fears I have that this is going to work. Because it was on runs in NYC that I gained the courage to make the move and take this giant step. The latter is the symbol of why this is all worth it - the relationship with R we have dreamed of and worked for over the distance for so long.
So, it is with perfect timing I have chosen to train for a spring marathon: not only does my life need that constant right now, but I couldn't have chosen better climes in which to train. After a couple weeks of adjusting rest days, long run days and the alarm clock, I now find myself arising before the sun to run before work/Ulpan. This task is made exponentially easier by the fact that I am not forcing myself out into the winters to which I am accustomed. Instead, I don shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt and step out onto trails in the mountains outside Jerusalem. Every morning, as the sun rises, I find myself in breathtaking beauty. Every day the mountains are in a different mood. Sometimes dark and damp, other times misty and mysterious, other times bright and brilliant. Always magical. There has been a point on every run on my usual weekday routes where I round a corner to find a view that absolutely takes my breath away. Anticipating these moments as I'm tying my shoes and drinking my coffee makes the early morning alarms that much easier to bear.
I'll leave the technical aspects to my upcoming plan for another post. I am still, Type A(nal) that I am, still tracking mileage and times (even though the hills depressingly affect my times - although hopefully they will only help my Boston time and the shape of my legs) on my trusty Excel spreadsheet. Things have fluctuated a bit more than I would have normally liked heading into a training plan, but I still have managed to stay above 40 mpw. No matter, though - the mileage and training is now secondary to the fact that now, more than ever, it is my soul benefitting from the running.
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