The Case for the Selfless Race

One of the things you often hear about running is that it is an individual sport and for the most part, I agree. On race day, victory or defeat lies solely in your own legs and mind. There's no pitcher to throw a strike out, no quarterback to rely on for a miracle toss, no goalie to make the amazing save. Just you, your body, and your brain to get it done.

I've spent the better part of 2018 focused on my own running goals: in March, my first trail half; in April, a half marathon PR; and last weekend, a PR and 15 minute BQ at Monumental Marathon. 

All gave me a huge feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment, but none hold a candle to this past weekend when, for the second time, I had the privilege to pace the 2:00:00 group at the Richmond Half Marathon.

You see, while running is indeed an individual sport, there is no denying that along the way, we all get help from others. From training partners, from coaches, from family, from other runners we meet on race day, and from random strangers who we see for 2 seconds on a course as we run by. And many people look to a pacer to help settle their nerves and guide them to a personal best, a Boston Qualifer a first time finish at a certain distance. 

I won't ever forget Stuart - the amazing pacer who helped me to my redemption BQ at Wrightsville Marathon in 2016. It is no exaggeration for me to say that without him, I wouldn't have done it. And in large part, he is the one who inspired me to try my own hand at pacing.

Arriving to the corral wearing a pacer shirt, you feel a huge responsibility to the people around you. These people are pinning their hopes on you and putting their trust in a complete stranger to help them achieve goals that in many cases, they set months and months ago and have been working toward since. 

Corral DA with fellow pacers Kevin and Eric

Weirdly, for me, the weight of responsibility to others is energizing. I can't pace myself worth a damn, but when I know there is a group of runners relying on me, it is a whole different story. It's almost freeing to not be inside my own head, worried about my own performance. My only thoughts are centered around what can I do to make sure these guys achieve what they want to today. How can I help distract them when they're struggling; how can I make sure they keep going; what self-depreciating story can I tell to make them laugh and forget that they're running; what can I say to inspire them to push that much harder in the last two miles? How can I give them the confidence to keep going?

This year, we had a large group of strong runners with us. We spent the first miles setting the comfortable easy pace, telling jokes, learning about the runners with us, handing out advice both serious and silly (serious: look at at the ground right in front of you when you're going up a hill instead of at the top of the hill. silly: alternatively, pick a pace booty in front of you to stare at instead.)

Mile 3 along Broad Street

As we made our way through the course, my fellow pacer Eric and I could sense that we had some really strong runners with us who were capable of picking it up for the last two miles. We conferred with our other two group leaders and they agreed to keep even for the 1:59:30 target while Eric and I would drop the anvil at mile 11 and take whoever was feeling good with us. 

I ended up with a half marathon virgin Jay, who I had been checking on like a mother hen throughout the race, and a group of about 5 more who dropped the pace in a big way. As I did last year I collected more runners as I went, encouraging all those around me to push it to the sub-2:00 - maybe a bit too enthusiastically as I was too busy yelling at everyone else to watch my feet and stepped in a pothole around mile 12 on Grace Street. I nearly bit the pavement, but recovered thank goodness.

As we flew down the 5th Street hill to the finish, nothing was more exhilarating than watching my runners cross that line in 1:56 and change. And nothing better than the sweaty hugs, high fives, and first bumps from dozens who came through as I waited for Eric, Sonja, and Kevin with the main body of the group to come through. So many thrilled as they finished their first, or PRd in a huge way. 

What an honor to play a small part in helping them get there. 

What freedom and joy to get out of my head and run for others.

Post race with fellow pacer Kevin. Success!

Rebooting

2017. What a weird year of unfinished business. Both of my marathons were decided long before I started training for them; holdovers from 2016 that took 18 months to put to bed. 

After the disaster of Boston, it took me a long while to get my groove back. Until Labor Day weekend, to be exact. It was that weekend when the second toenail on my right foot - which had gotten damaged during Boston - finally gave up the ghost and fell off. And with that toenail, a lot of the weird baggage that I'd been carrying around about my failure in Boston seemed to finally take a hike too. 

(Yes, I realize that sounds completely crazy.)

Going into Marine Corps, I felt good. The goal was a 3:35, which based on how the last two months of training went, should have been achievable. Unfortunately, just like in Boston, the day was warm. Things started out ok but everything came apart at mile 20 on the overpass from hell. I submit that the last 10k of MCM is the most miserable 10k in all of marathoning. I held it together better than I had in Boston and finished in 3:52:26. Another disappointing race in 2017. That race is a one and done for me. 

After that, Kit and I toyed with the idea of going to Delaware in early December to run the Rehoboth Beach Seashore Marathon. Neither of us was happy with Marine Corps and wanted redemption. We made a deal that if we could run 18 miles at race pace at the end of November, we'd do Delaware  and we did it. But barely. The thought of running 8 more miles at that pace seemed impossible for both of us and the last thing either of us needed was yet another disappointing marathon in 2017. So we didn't run Delaware and for the next month +, we kind of putzed around aimlessly with no plan. 

No plan meant no motivation. No motivation meant a lot of hitting snooze on the alarm clock and not running. I was burnt out and uninspired.

So, I made the decision that I was not going to run a marathon in the spring of 2018 - the first time I haven't run a spring marathon since I started marathoning. Instead, I decided to focus on the half marathon - tackling my first trail half in March and then focusing on a road half PR in April.

Per usual, Kit joined me in the adventure and we created a blended 14 week training plan that included long runs on the trails until the trail half, gradually building in speed and tempo road work then shifting to all roads in the 5 weeks between the races.

It took me a while to get my groove on the trails. I'm not by nature a great trail runner; I am cautious with my footing and not confident enough to let loose and go, especially on downhills. For the first few miles I am completely a mess and out of my element; by mile 5ish I finally settle in. It took a solid month for me to start to gain confidence and feel like I was making good time on trails. The great thing about the hybrid plan that we were running is that after a weekend on the trails, we felt like we were flying on the roads.

At the beginning of March we ran a small trail race called the Solar 10 Miler. The weather was beautiful, the field was relatively small, and the trails were not terribly technical. After holding back for the first 4 miles, I turned it on and ended up finishing as the first woman, 10th overall. It was a fantastic confidence booster going into the my half marathon - the Pocahontas Trail Fest on March 17. 

The race is held at Pocahontas State Park, which is nearby and where Kit and I had spent most of our trail time. We had done a dress rehearsal of the course a few weeks before, so I knew exactly what to expect. The first four miles are spent running around a lake, with some gentle hills. After a long uphill at 5, the race plateaus essentially until the last mile when you enter a very hilly and more technical single track section. 

My primary goal was to finish in under 2 hours. After the dress rehearsal I realized that that goal was probably a bit too conservative, so in my head I aimed for a 1:50 and a hopefully a top three in my age group. 

What I ended up with was a 1:46:56, 5/79 women, 15th overall, and 3rd in my AG. I was very very happy with that finish and with how I ran the race in general. I learned a lot about myself as a trail runner; primarily that my biggest weakness is downhills and that I can really open up on the flats and make up ground. Typically there aren't many flats in trail running so obviously I need to work on those downhills. 

I also learned that while trails can be fun, I am a road warrior at heart. So, I've been happy to be back on the streets for the past few weeks, really pushing with some tough tempo, speed workouts, and fast long runs. All of the trail training has translated into strength and speed on the roads; I am running faster and with less effort than ever before. For the first time ever, I successfully completed a 3 x 1600 speed workout hitting every single target, and because this is half marathon training, the target was lower than ever before too.

There have been rough weekends when all of my friends are out running marathons, BQing, and setting PRs. Watching all of their achievements makes me itchy to run a marathon. But I don't regret taking the spring off from a marathon training cycle and focusing on new things instead. I needed the break - physically and mentally. 

Now, having just completed the toughest week of the training cycle and with two unofficial training run half marathon PRs under my belt, I'm feeling confident and looking forward to my half marathon PR attempt on April 22. 

You might also I've revamped ye olde blog. I thought maybe a new look and new title would help me get my writing mojo back, much like a new goal has helped me in my running. 

 

Race Report: Portland Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon

This past weekend I snuck off to the West Coast (for the first time ever!) to spend some quality time with my beloved Work Wife, who moved to Portland, Oregon last July.

It just so happened that Portland was hosting the Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon on that very same weekend. Well... I will confess that this happy coincidence was planned. Of course the primary reason for going to Portland was to visit Work Wife, but I did make an effort to identify a weekend with a race on it. Typical crazy runner behavior.

Being just 5 weeks out from my marathon, on the West Coast, and featuring a rather frightening elevation chart (see below), I didn't have any big plans to have a great race in Portland. I just wanted to do it to say I'd run a race on the West Coast.

The race was such a non-event in my head that I often forgot that I was running it at all. For instance, I packed pretty much everything on Monday night and then on Wednesday as I ticked through the things that I needed, I ticked off running shoes. When I got home, I luckily realized that my shoes were not packed at all. In other words... I almost left for Portland without my running shoes.

Which segues nicely to the next part of my tale. My flight to Portland was last Thursday at 6:00 am. That meant that I had to wake up at 4:00 am and leave my house by 4:30 am to get to the airport in time. 4:00 am is very, very early and my brain was not working very well when I threw my suitcase and bag into my trunk and took off at 4:40, running late. About 20 minutes later, as I was driving down a back road to the airport, it dawned on me that I had forgotten something very important.

My Garmin.

But there was no going back - I was cutting it close as it was and I definitely did not have time to go fetch my Garmin, which was chilling on its charger in the office (and which I had had a feeling I would forget). So, for the first time in years (quite literally), I was going to run without my Garmin. And worse yet - I was going to run a race without it.

Once in Portland, I spent two days enjoying the very un-Portland-like dry weather by covering the city on foot with Work Wife, walking miles and miles through The Pearl, the Rose Garden, and Downtown. Copious amounts of coffee were consumed, along with flights of cider and all manner of delicious foodstuffs.

Small sampling of my pre-race strategy (or lack thereof)

Clockwise, starting top left:

Cocktails at Petite Provence

Cider Flight at Bushwacker Cider

Burger at Besaw's

International Rose Test Garden in Washington Park

The whole point of this bit of the story is that in the days leading up to the race, I surely wasn't doing myself any favors by spending a ton of time on my feet and stuffing myself to the brim with caffeine, alcohol, and food.

We did make a pit stop at a Target, where I obtained a $6 Timex to wear during the race so I would have some sense of whether or not I was running myself into the ground - which was my main worry associated with not having a Garmin strapped to my wrist. I also grabbed a pace chart bracelet for a 1:45 at the expo. Mind you, I had no intentions of running a 1:45 - it was just the closest pace chart that they had for my real expected time of somewhere between 1:50 and 1:55. I figured that I'd use it as a warning sign - if I was actually on pace with that chart, I'd know I was running too fast.

After two lovely days with little to no rain, Portland decided to be Portland and it poured on race morning. Work Wife kept apologizing, but I was like, "Eh - it's Portland! It wouldn't seem right if it wasn't raining." I debated and debated as to whether or not to wear my water resistant running jacket and against my better judgment, decided to keep it on because the rain was coming down hard and it was just slightly chilly as we walked down toward the start area.

As we stood in the rain waiting, the guy next to me turns to me and goes, "So, when are the wheels going to start to fall off?" I was somewhat taken aback. "I'm sorry... what?"

"When are the wheels gonna come off? For me, I think Mile 10, " he said.

I just stared at him like he had a third eye. "Dude, you can't be standing in the start corral thinking about when your wheels are coming off! They aren't coming off!"

O_o

I was kind of put off by that little exchange and therefore didn't try to engage anyone else in chit chat, worried that the result would be more Negative Nancies adding to my anxiety level, which was already pretty high considering my lack of Garmin, that I was in an outfit I didn't feel comfortable in, that it was pouring rain, and that I knew there was a very daunting hill somewhere out there ahead of me.

The start was slightly delayed, and after what seemed like ages of listening to the race announcer cycle through sponsor shout outs and annoying "Let's get psyched, Portland!!!"-esque rambling, my corral finally crossed the start at 8:15 am.

The first half of the race was nice and flat, but not exactly what I could call scenic. We ran along the waterfront park which gave way to an industrial section of town before looping back on itself at mile 1.5. That's about where I couldn't stand having the jacket on anymore. The rain had slowed to a barely-noticeable drizzle and I was hot. Of course I hadn't packed a bib holder and the bib was safety pinned to my jacket, so I wasted probably a minute standing on the side of the Naito Parkway, unpinning then repining my bib to my tank and getting my jacket tied securely around my waist.

Back on course I tried to settle in to a pace that felt good. We crossed the Hawthorne Bridge into South East Portland during miles 5-6 and that's when things started to get dicey. And by dicey, I mean a giant hill in the form of Hawthorne Boulevard, which we ran up for a very long mile and a half. It wasn't the steepest hill I'd ever run during a race, but it was definitely the longest.

After we finally took a left hand turn off of Hawthorne, I felt like the worst was behind me. I recalled from the elevation chart that everything was (relatively-speaking) downhill after Hawthorne. I didn't feel great but I didn't feel terrible, and I thought I was keeping a pretty decent (but not killer) pace.

Somewhere after Hawthorne, I started thinking to myself that I wanted to PR this damn race. I guess it was because I had that all-downhill-from-here elevation chart in my mind's eye and I figured that if I was ever going to PR, it would be on a downhill course. The funny thing about all of this is that I didn't really even know what my PR would be. In my mind, it was a something in the 1:47 - 1:48 range.

And of course, I didn't have a Garmin to help me with my pacing. I had been doing my best to try to do math and see how I was stacking up against the 1:45 pace chart, but my ability to do mental math had left me somewhere back on the other side of Portland. And let's be honest; my ability to do mental math is pretty pathetic to begin with.

We finally crossed the river again on the Steel Bridge with one mile to go and I looked at my little Timex, which read 1:43. I figured there was no chance of a PR but still put on the juice as we ran along the waterfront toward the Finish because to be honest, I really just wanted to be finished!

After hitting the stop button on the Timex, I promptly accidentally erased my time, so I really had no clue what it was. Unlike in Raleigh, I really did want to know what my official time was. Thankfully, I have some good stalkers friends who immediately texted me my results (I had posted that I forgot my Garmin on my Facebook and asked someone to text me) - 1:50:25.

Good, but not a PR.

Or so I thought.

Since I couldn't actually recall what the half marathon PR was in the first place, I pulled up this good old blog on my phone and what do you know - it turns out that my previous best half was a 1:51:52 at the Shamrock Half in Virginia Beach in 2012.

A very flat, fast course, need I remind you.

So, the race that I kept forgetting about, that I neglected to pack my Garmin for, that started in the pouring rain, that was fueled by a terrible mix of caffeine and alcohol, that contained a ridiculously long upward climb, and that I had no intentions of running well turned out to be my new Half Marathon PR.

Funny how things work sometimes, isn't it?

 

Big Fat Shout Out to my Work Wife, for not only being "my person" at the race and holding all of my junk, but also making all of the associated logistics a piece of cake. I didn't have to worry about a darn thing. She even cooked me my traditional pre-race meal of a steak on Saturday night and as soon as I crossed the finish, she hugged me even though I was sweaty and then said, "I made us brunch reservations while you were running."

Seriously, Work Wife, you are the best.

Race Report: Divas Half Marathon - DC Wine Country

I should have known better than to sign up for a race with the word "Diva" in the title, but this one just happened to fill a need. Marcey and I wanted to go out of town for a girls' race weekend. I prefer longer distances, Marcey prefers shorter, and we wanted something within driving distance. The Divas Half Marathon - DC Wine Country met all of these parameters: it was 2 hours away in Leesburg, it had a half marathon and a 5k, and it worked with our schedules.

So we got excited and signed up for it way back in January and have been counting down ever since. We reserved a room at the official Race Hotel, the Landsdown Resort; planned coordinating outfits (not matching, just coordinating); planned a post-race afternoon of wine, cheese, and lounging in our room in pajamas with not a care in the world; made dinner reservations at one of the resort's restaurants; and picked out little black dresses to wear with our medals.

Everything about the weekend turned out just as we had hoped... except for the race itself. A better name for this event would have been the Divas Disaster Half Marathon. 

From the top...

Packet Pick Up

Packet pick up and the race expo are always my least favorite parts of a race. This one was no exception, with the one saving grace being that it was held at Landsdowne so it was convenient for those of us who were staying there.

Otherwise, it was ridiculous because they offered packet pick up for only a few hours on a Friday night in Northern Virginia. Anybody who has ever lived in the DC Metro area knows that traffic on a Friday night is a flat out nightmare. To give you an idea, when I lived in Gaithersburg, Maryland my commute to North Bethesda was 11 miles... and it took me ONE AND A HALF HOURS. Leesburg, the site for this event, is pretty far west of DC and for anyone trying to come from there, I'm sure it was difficult. Marcey and I left Richmond at 4:00 pm and barely made it ourselves, arriving just after 7:00 pm (expo closed at 8). 

Strike one for the organizers. 

Once we got to the expo, we had to stop and be surveyed by Divas staff before we were allowed to pick up our packet. This was also annoying. The questions were: Where are you staying? How many nights? Do you have spectators? I know they were gathering this information so they could show the resort hotel what a great revenue generator this event was, but it was still aggrevating for people who had just sat in hours of traffic and just wanted to get their stuff. I actually tried to bypass them but they caught me.

Just give me my damn bib and shirt, please!

Race Day Arrival

Here's where the real fun starts. On Friday evening I put the address for the Tarara Winery (the race site - in theory, very nice) into my navigation and it showed that it would take 25 minutes to get from Landsdowne to Tarara. That kind of annoyed me... the whole reason that I paid for an overpriced resort hotel room was because I figured that the official race hotel would be extremely close to the race itself. 

Guess I was wrong.

The event organizers made it very clear that the road into the Winery would be shut down at 7:15 am, meaning we all needed to be parked before that. Marcey and I decided to leave the hotel between 6:00 and 6:15 am, giving us a cushion of at least 35 minutes. I anticipated some traffic build up since we would all be converging on the same place and figured that this would be adequate. It was cold that morning, and we didn't want to arrive insanely early and stand around freezing.

We got into the car at 6:15. Things were going fine for about 15 minutes. And then we hit the start of the traffic. I got more and more anxious as I watched the minutes tick by. 6:40... 6:45... 6:50... 7:00. I was worried we were going to get turned away. But then we realized that everyone else around us was also going to the race and there was no way they could turn us all away - it seemed like ALL of the participants were sitting on that stretch of Route 15 - and as Marcey said, the last thing you want to do is piss off 5,000 women. 

7:15 came and went. FINALLY we came to a point where there was an alternate route we could take, so I did. This alternate route was a dirt road that led into the back entrance of the winery. We parked the car in a field at 7:20, jumped out, and literally ran toward the start. I had half a bottle of water in the car and HAD to go to the bathroom. My race was supposed to start at 7:30, so as we jogged toward the starting area I was already assuming that I was going to be jumping in late. Marcey's 5k was supposed to start in waves, with the first being at 7:45. 

Note on the parking: we parked in a freshly mown field. And it was very wet. My feet were soaked by the time we got through it. This was a bad thing, as we'll see in the future.

When we arrived at the start it was obvious that we weren't starting on time. We heard people saying 30 minute delay as we headed toward the porties. Excuse me... the LINE for the porties. 

I was grateful for the delay but I knew that people who had been there and were in the start corral were pissed. I truly do feel for those who had been there in time and were standing in the cold, getting hungry and thirsty and stiff legs. They had every right to be mad. I was pissed because it was obvious that the race organizers had no idea what they were doing when they chose this winery that was accessible only by 2 dirt roads as the venue for a race with 7,000 participants. Dirt roads cannot handle that capacity. I also heard that there was an accident on Route 15 (the way they told everyone to take) that made traffic congestion even worse. 

THEN the announcer had the gall to make an allusion that the delayed start was the fault of the participants. That just sent me over the edge. NO. I left at 6:15 for what I anticipated to be a 35-40 minute drive. Based on comments I have read since on Facebook, others who had left even as early as 5:45 am did not make it to the race in time. To try to blame participants for not planning well enough was truly bad form.

At 8:25 it was announced that we were going to continue to be delayed. FINALLY, the half marathon started at 8:55 am... nearly 1 hour and 30 minutes late. It was bad for the people in the corral, it was bad for the people who got stuck in traffic. It was bad for the volunteers at water stops who had been standing out in the cold, ready to go. It was bad for everyone.

Really bad.

As for myself, I had gotten to my "corral" (more on that later) at 7:55, expecting an 8 am start. When that didn't happen, I decided to try to find Emma, of A Mom Runs This Town. I knew she was running and I figured at least we could chat for a while to kill time. It wasn't hard to find her ... there weren't that many people in the corral. She had been there since 6:30 am and was really really unhappy about the repeated delays (as she should have been). She was starving, freezing, and getting tight after having performed all of her pre-race rituals in time for a 7:30 start. We tried to make light of the situation, but by 8:45 with no start time announced, we were just done. Personally, I didn't even feel like running anymore. All I kept thinking was that if we had started on time, I would have been almost finished by now.

So. BIG FAT FAIL on Race Day Arrival.

Starting Area

1. Not enough porties. 7,000 women, 50 porties. NOT ENOUGH.

2. Tiny, dirt starting chute with graded, sides. Not cool. Accessible only from the back, so if you needed to work toward the front to your "corral", you had to weave your way through everyone else.

3. Non existent "corrals." They did a wave start for the 5k, but there was no such thing for the half. We all just kind of self-selected into waves based on estimated pace. Emma is super speedy, so she was hanging out in the 7:00-8:00/mile area. There weren't many others there, unlike the area where I should have been, which was swamped. So I did something very bad and just stayed with her and started in that "wave". I wasn't in anyone's way because there just weren't that many ladies in that area. Yes, I'm a bad racer. Sue me. But after standing around for an hour, I just didn't care anymore.

Course

I am kicking myself for my procrastination because the official course description from the Divas Half website has been taken down now. But here is the gist of it, from what I can remember (and I read it a few times because I was nervous about the course, knowing that the Leesburg area is hilly):

"Enjoy this scenic course in Virginia's wine country. You'll pass vineyards, rustic farmhouses, open fields, and country churches. The course has gently rolling hills and two more significant elevation gains of 300 feet that are minimized as they are spread out over 1/2 mile."

My interpretation of that was yes, there are 2 challenging hills but otherwise this won't be so bad.

As far as I can tell, this was everyone elses' interpretation as well, because let me tell you, hot topics on the course were the delayed start and the hills.

They seemed to never end. From the time we started, if we weren't running up hill, we were running down hill. "Gently rolling my a$$!" was the general consensus. Every time we turned a corner and saw yet another hill, a chorus of groans and expletives rose from my fellow Divas and myself. What was even worse is that the course doubled back on itself so you knew that once you ran over one big hill, you were going to have to do it AGAIN later. Just that thought made me want to quit so many times.

Here's the elevation chart, which doesn't look that scary. But trust me, these hills were no joke. They were small but they were fairly steep and just never ending.

The only respite that we got was a fairly flat stretch between miles 7.5 and 9.5, but by that point I think it is fair to say that most of us were already beat and our legs were shot. It was just a matter of survival. I remember looking down at my Garmin at mile 8 and saying to myself, "5 miles. You can run 5 miles. That's all you've got. 5 miles... less than an hour... just keep going...".

Oh, and the scenery. HA. Yes, there may have been "rustic" farmhouses, quaint churches, and vineyards, but we were all too miserable to enjoy any of it. There was also a fair amount of time spent running in McMansion neighborhoods (decidedly NOT scenic).

Finally, this was advertised as a road race. Sure, we were on roads... but at least 8 of these miles were completed on very uneven dirt/gravel roads. I don't care how hilly or flat something is... the minute you throw dirt or gravel on it, it becomes more challenging and it is far different than pavement. If you never run on trails, doing so for the first time is a learning experience that can sometimes be dangerous. Thankfully, I've run on all kinds of trails so it didn't throw me, but I know that a lot of people wiped out and were very angry about the running surfaces. I feel very badly for anyone who had only previously run on roads or treadmills. To experience dirt/gravel surfaces for the first time during a hilly race had to be quite jarring.

So basically, I felt pretty misled by the race organizers as to this course. Listen, I like to be challenged. But I was NOT prepared for this in any way. I like to think that I am at the top of my game right now as a runner. But after the first 6 miles of this race, I honestly just wanted to quit. They were the hardest 6 miles I have ever ever run, including the last 6 of the 18 miler last weekend.

Ok, well maybe not ever. The worst miles I ever ran were the last 4 of the Army 10 Miler a few years ago. But this was close to that misery, especially considering my level of fitness is SO much higher now. If I had KNOWN about the hills and the dirt roads, at least I would have known what to expect and could mentally prepare myself. 

Oh, and the course was 13.3 miles long. I know that they are never exact, but come on... nearly a quarter mile?

But let me say something positive about it: there were more than enough water/Gatorade stops, all manned with smiling happy volunteers. God bless them... they were just as inconvenienced by the delayed start as we were.

The Finish

Finally, at the end, there was some REAL scenery in the form of a lovely pond back on the Tarara Winery property. But honestly by that point I didn't care if I was running through a nuclear power plant... I just wanted to be DONE. At mile 13 we ran through the "Tiara and Feather Boa" station, which is a cute idea but honestly, it's kinda hard to jam a tiara on your head and putting on a cheap feather "boa" at mile 13 is not really enticing. However, I did both because dammit, I had suffered and I was going to live it up at the end. 

After crossing the line, I received my GIGANTIC medal from a very fit shirtless man. Then they tried to shove a plastic flute of "champagne" (aka sparkling cider) at me... pretty much the last thing I wanted but I took it because I didn't want to be rude. Same with the rose. All before food and water. I JUST WANT WATER AND A BAGEL OMG. Luckily I had Marcey there on the other side of the chute to dump off this stuff with so I had free hands to get my food.

The food was lackluster. Bottles of water, plain or cinnamon raisin bagel halves (which were kinda stale) and chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin cookes. That's it. There was no other runner support at the finish ... honestly I don't even recall seeing a medical tent. I'm sure it was there... somewhere... right? 

Overall Grade

Sorry, Divas, but this gets one big fat F. There was really nothing enjoyable about this experience. I guess at least I got a really gigantic medal out of it and a nice techinical race shirt that actually fits.

To be fair, this was an inaugural event for this particular location. I knew there would be hiccups... there always are at the first go around. HOWEVER, this is a National race series whose organizers should have forseen many of the problems and prepared for them. To me, the misleading course description was almost worse than the traffic issues. 

But the real rotten icing on this bad cake was that the organizers seemed to blame participants for the traffic and only took responsibility for their error much later - I believe in a Facebook post/email the next day. And they NEVER acknowledged the course problems.

And that is why I am never, ever doing a Divas race again.

Ever.

Personal Performance

Other than the Army 10 Miler, I have never been happier to be finished with a race.

After the 1.5 hour delay, I really just wanted it to be over with, so I went out way too fast. I knew it was stupid and I knew I would regret it later, but I just didn't care. My legs were tight thanks to standing around, and my feet were numb with cold after getting soaked from walking through the field that we parked in. I don't think I actually felt them until mile 3 or so.

By mile 6, when we turned a corner and saw yet another incredibly steep dirt hill in front of us, I really just wanted to walk. The only thing that got me through were the Schwings on my shoes.

Whenever I looked down at my feet because looking UP at the hill in front of me was too terrifying, I saw my Schwings and said to myself, "Kathryn, you have wings on your shoes. You cannot walk. That would just be ridiculous. People with wings on their shoes don't walk."

I wish I was making this up, but I'm not. I really did tell myself that.

Near the end, when I really felt like crap, I saw others starting to walk. I thought by encouring them I could also convince myself to not cave, so I would run pass and cheer them on. "Come on come one, we've survived the worst of it. We have less than 2 miles... you can do this! Don't walk now!"

These were really just pep talks for myself.

When I hit 13.1 (before the official finish line), my watch showed 1:51:something. That's unofficially a PR for me. My official time was 1:53:16, NOT a PR but also NOT a half marathon, as my Garmin read 13.3 miles. My average pace was 8:31/mile. That also included a 60 second trip to the portie located a mile 7.

Given all of the cirumstances, I'm pretty proud of myself. I ran fast despite the hills. I did walk for about 25 yards during mile 12 before I got pissed at myself for being a quitter and started running again. I did stop at water stops and I even took the time to stretch my poor calves at mile 12. Why I thought it would help at that point was beyond me... I guess really I just wanted to stand still for 30 seconds.

I finished 85th out of 2,535 participants, so that's not too shabby I guess... but to be fair I think that at least 50% of the people walked it instead. I placed 24th out of the 454 participants in the 30-40 year age group.

I was really so exhausted by this point that I have no
idea how I look remotely presentable.

But the people that I am most proud of are Emma and Marcey.

Despite all of the things working against her and the less than ideal conditions, Emma placed fourth overall and won our age group with an amazing time of 1:31:58! That is just flat out amazing to me. I can't imagine running that fast ever, and especially not on that torturous course.

I hope some of Emma's greatness rubbed off on to me.
Just a little teeny bit.
(Photo yoinked from Emma)

Marcey PRd her 5k time too! Thankfully, she said that the 5k course was not very hilly and the participants of that race seemed more pleased over all.

Marcey is pleased.

So, there's my book on the Divas Disaster Half Marathon.

I'm really hoping that I can redeem myself at the Wilson Bridge half in 2 weeks. After the Divas course, it should be a relative breeze (I hope).

Race Report: Shamrock Anthem Half Marathon

People often give me crap for being a pessimist. But here's how I look at it: when you have high expectations about things and then they don't go as well as you'd hoped, you'll be pretty disappointed. However, when you have low expectations and then things turn out even just ok, you're thrilled. It's just easier to be thrilled than to be disappointed, wouldn't you agree?

My expectations for this race were low. Very low. Given that my training plan was basically the easiest plan you can do and that I missed two long runs during the most critical weeks of the plan, I think that my low expectations were more than justified. 

So, you can only imagine how over the moon I am over what actually happened yesterday. The running Gods smiled down upon me and I somehow managed to pull out a 1:51:52 - a big time PR - besting last year's time of 1:59:05 by almost 9 minutes! (Is that right? My head hurts too much to figure out math right now... at any rate, that's a lot of minutes!)

Not much about the race itself changed from last year, so I'm not going to write up a full race report. Expo, course, and finish, were all basically unchanged. If you want to know more about them, check out last year's report. Instead, here are some highlights (note: none of these pictures are mine - they are courtesy of Greg, Gretchen, and Sheila).

Race Outfits 
Because we know it's really all about the clothes.

Generally, I am not the type who likes to wear extra stuff when I run. However, since the race was actually on St. Patrick's Day this year, Sheila convinced me that we should wear tutus. We got ours from Amazon and they were surprisingly comfortable for the duration of the race. In fact, I forgot that I had it on until spectators (usually little girls) yelled, "I love your tutu!" I also made an interesting observation in that the further up Greg and I worked in the pack, the fewer people were wearing any kind of festive gear. Apparently serious runners don't wear tutus. Guess I missed that memo.

The rest of my outfit included a Lululemon Cool Racerback in Gingham Frond, Lululemon Run a Marathon Crops, arm warmers, neon green Reebock socks, and my pink Brooks PureCadence. Oh yes, and how could I forget my BIC Band in sparkle apple green? Sheila borrowed the lucky Lululemon Stay on Course tank that I wore to this race last year. I told her that if she wore it, it would help her get that sub-2.

Weather
Well, it didn't rain. But it was cold. Very, very cold. During the first 6 miles of the race, we were thankfully sheltered from the wind by various object (trees, houses, etc) but during  miles 7, 8, and 9 we were on Fort Story and the wind was just terrible. I actually had goosebumps throughout this portion and felt genuinely cold and as a rule, once I get going into a run, I am NOT cold. Ever.

I look happy, but I'm freezing to death.

Thanks to a lack of planning and communication, I had a hard time finding Jason after the race. Therefore, I was standing at the finish area for at least 20 minutes without the benefit of a jacket and I got very very cold very very fast. Sheila and her guy Roel found me first and Roel immediately started taking off his coat and wrapping me up. Apparently, my lips were blue.

So yeah. It was cold. Thank GOD it didn't rain because I probably would've gotten hypothermia!

The Run
The plan for this race was to stick with Sheila through mile 3, then take off with Greg in hopes of a sub-2.

Somehow, we all started in Corral 2. I have no idea how this happened. Sheila and I both put our expected finish times at 2:00; Greg put his at 1:50. While respectable, these aren't super fast times and with 10 corrals, I was really surprised at our placement.

The worst moments of the race were the delayed start. We all stood shivering and huddling in our corrals while the announcers repeatedly apologized for the delay while they "cleared the course." I'm not sure what the total delay was, but it was somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes. Personally, I just wanted to start running because I was freezing to death. As a result of the standing around, I'm pretty sure my legs were tighter and I couldn't feel my hands for at least the first 2 miles and no, I'm not exaggerating.

Despite not feeling my hands, the first three miles felt almost casual. We were those  annoying people who laugh, joke, and take photos while running.

At mile 3, Sheila told us to go for it. We high fived and with that, Greg and I picked up the pace slightly. My right thigh, still sore from too many lunges a whole week earlier, started to feel tight but I wasn't going to stop or slow. Everything else was great: the appendage-that-shall-not-be-named was a non issue, my cardio felt awesome, my stomach was fine. Greg and I passed the time by goofing off, singing, telling dirty jokes, etc. Greg even updated his Facebook with on-the-run photos, for which I admonished him, "You know, we are  running a half marathon right now!"

Throughout miles 4-9, we somehow maintained a pretty much on-the-nose 8:30 pace. I was thoroughly impressed with us, especially considering that I am generally the world's worst pacer. So Greg and I had a the following conversation about who was in control:

Me: Greg, how are we doing this? We are rocking this. Thank God you're here to.
G: What are you talking about? I'm pacing you!
Me: Nuh uh. I'm pacing YOU.
G: But are you?
Me: I dunno. Who is in charge right now?
G: You are - or am I?
Me: Alright seriously, who is running this show?

We never agreed on who was in charge.

At Mile 11, my legs really started to ache. I know that I had not stretched enough in the corral... I had been so cold that I spent most of my time huddling with Sheila and wishing we could just start running.

At 11, Greg and I had dialed things up. His goal was to PR, meaning he needed a 1:52:00 or better. Considering our pace to that point, I knew that I was going to PR no matter what so when my legs really started to sing at Mile 12, I told him to kick it and that I would see him at the finish - I didn't want to be the reason he didn't get his own PR that day.

The last mile was tough for me. I was hoping to get the same boost that I got last year once the spectators started to cheer, but it just didn't happen. I wanted to tear it up as soon as I hit the boardwalk but my legs weren't going to allow me to go any faster than I was going. About 20 feet from the finish line I spotted Greg waiting just on the other side for me and I finally found a tiny bit of reserve in my legs, propelling myself over the finish and immediately giving him a huge hug. We had done it - we had both PRd.

My splits:

After leaving me and my slow legs, Greg really kicked it. His last mile was a super speedy 7:18 and he finished with a time of 1:50:41.

Sheila also totally rocked it - her first half marathon and she got a 1:59:30! I'm so proud of her.

Lucky Lulu strikes again!

How did this happen?
I still kind of feel like the entire race was a dream. The fact that my right calf has been howling at me all day is the only thing telling me that yes, in fact, I did run a half marathon. And not only did I run it, I kind of totally kicked its a$$.

Being me, I've been trying to figure out how I did this. By all accounts, this should not have been a PR. Three months ago, I was still run/walking. Even before the injury, when I thought I was in the best shape ever, I was not running this fast. My training for this race was not nearly as intense as the plan that I followed last year. But here I sit with a 1:51:52 (official time) half marathon and the best news is that the appendage-that-shall-not-be-named does not hurt. Not one little bit.

So how did this happen?? A few theories.

• First and foremost, running with Greg. Not only at the race, but also during all of those training miles. Running with someone else just makes it that much easier. Though Greg definitely has far more stamina than I do, I think that we are both in the same pace boat (which is why we can never agree on who is running the show) and are very good for each other as running partners.
• Cross training. Running just 3 days a week and with low mileage to boot, I have to attribute my speedier pace to the miles of biking and swimming. 
• Pure dumb luck.

I guess I should just stop theorizing and take it and run with it, right? 

Actually, this one is my photo
and my metal! =)

Sham-Rocked It

Full race report later. Until then...

Visions of Shamrocks

While everyone else is dreaming of sugar plums and presents under the tree, my mind is filled with visions of half marathon training since this week is officially my first week of training for the Shamrock Half Marathon.

But first, I suppose I should report on what is making this training possible: last Tuesday I officially "graduated" from physical therapy! When Steve walked up to my therapy table with my file in hand and said, "So is today graduation day?" I didn't get what he was saying at first. I suppose that PT has become such a regular part of my life that I hadn't considered the fact that one day I would no longer need it.

Once I realized what "graduation day" meant, I was ecstatic and immediately whipped out the training plan that I had had folded up in the pocket of my Lulu jacket for a month. I shoved it under his nose like a kid showing off their straight "A" report card to Dad and said, "Awesome! So can I do this training plan and the Shamrock Half??"

Steve approved the plan that I had chosen, with a few minor adjustments. This plan is the most conservative little baby beginner half marathon plan ever. Don't laugh when you see it:

Compared with last year, this thing is a breeze. And a good thing too, because I'm afraid that I may have lost more of my cardiovascular endurance than I thought.

My rules for this training cycle are:

• No back to back days of running. No matter what. I'm already having trouble with this one. It is really hard to not just put on my shoes and go out when I feel like it.
• No more than 3 days of running per week accompanied by...
• 2-3 days of cross training.
• No more than a 10% increase week over week, as much as possible. There are two spots where the increase is slightly more, but they are Steve-approved.
• As many miles as possible on soft surfaces like the vita course or the median of Monument Avenue, at least through January.
• Ice foot after each and every run.

With these in mind, I've sketched out a schedule that looks something like this:

• Monday - Run
• Tuesday - Cross training: yoga or bike
• Wednesday - Swim or Rest
• Thursday - Run
• Friday - Swim or Rest
• Saturday - Run
• Sunday - Swim

Of course I doubt that's how things will actually work out as the training progresses. I might play with the run days and attempt M-W-F instead of a weekend long run. This is what I did last year, and it worked out well. The only problem with that plan is that M-W-F are the best days for swimming at the Y so we'll have to see.

And I've officially just bored you to death. Sorry, I'm just happy I get to use the word "training" again and actually have a plan to plot. Yippee!

So, to my first run this past Monday. Things didn't start out so well. As I changed from work clothes to workout gear, I realized that I had forgotten a sports bra. The thought of sweating into my nice bra was not appealing, but I was scheduled to meet Greg, the weather was nice, and it was only 3 miles.

"Suck it up," I said to myself.

So I did. And boy was I going to regret it.

The run itself was good. Earlier in the day, I had told Greg that he needed to "make sure I don't go too fast" because I was (and am) fighting off a cold and wasn't feeling so hot. By the afternoon I had gotten DayQuil-fueled second wind and the whole not-going-fast thing went out the window. Instead Greg pushed the pace and we ended up running negative splits with Mile 3 being an 8:10.

I felt tired - dog tired - at the end of the 3 miles. I'm still not sure if this is because I've lost THAT much endurance or because of this pesky cold that just refuses to go.

I had also earned myself a first time visit to Chafe City. Wearing my underwire bra to run 3 miles had not been such a good idea. At all. The results are too gruesome to describe in a public blog, but let's just say that it was a very painful post-run shower that evening and Neosporin and Band Aids have replaced Steve in the New Best Friend department.

In positive news, nothing else hurt when we were finished. In fact, these days I've almost forgotten that my foot was broken.

Almost.

Race Report: Shamrock Anthem Half Marathon!

Well friends, I did it! I somehow managed to run my first ever half marathon in under 2 hours (barely!) with a finish time of 1:59:05!

And you know what? It wasn't that bad! Dare I say, I may have even had fun? At the end I didn't feel like dying or like my legs were going to pop off or anything. Today my legs are a little stiff, but really that's it!

Expo/Packet Pick Up - B

J and I arrived in Virginia Beach for packet pick up on Saturday around 3:30 pm. The pick up was at the Virginia Beach Convention Center which was pretty easy to get to and had plentiful parking.

Virginia Beach Convention Center - kinda pretty!



 Just like at the Virginia is for Lovers 14k, the actual packet pick up area was completely deserted.

I walked right up and picked up my bib and then my bag (a drawstring pouch) and my race t-shirt. No pictures now, there is going to be an entire section on race swag later!

I had one mission for this expo: to obtain a pair of compression sleeves for my calves. Last week after running my 11 miler, my calves were extremely tight for the next few days. Of course I have been reading advice about avoiding injury after long runs for a while, but had stubbornly refused to buy any compression gear. After the calf pain I experienced this past week, I then decided I needed some compression socks and figured that the perfect place to buy them would be the race expo. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me that there would be some vendor there selling them. Wouldn't it make sense? I mean, here are thousands of people about to run half and full marathons and some of them are probably in need of compression garments, right?

Although packet pick up had been deserted, the vendor side of things was decidedly crowded. It seemed to me that perhaps they should have given the vendors more of the space and condensed the packet pick up and t-shirt pick up areas. At any rate, J and I set out on our mission. We got distracted by sunglasses and neon race clothing.

Hey Neon Blonde Runner, I think I found your mecca!

But alas, despite spending more than half an hour and circling the vendor area twice, there were no compression sleeves to be found.

What the heck.

And this is why I'm giving the expo a grade of B.

Race Day Arrival/Parking/Start Area - A

The "A" is really only for 2/3 of this category. After examining the map and experiencing Virginia Beach's horrible traffic patterns the night before when going to dinner, I decided that we would not be attempting to park the car near the start.

Our hotel was 2 miles from the start of the race and at first I had delusions of hoofing the 2 miles, but when I realized it was actually going to be cold in the morning I convinced J to drive me up to the start line area where I would jump out, then he would go back to the hotel and our guaranteed free parking. When he got my mid-race alert text, he would then walk to the finish line (about 1.3 miles from our hotel) and meet me there.

Race morning, I got up at 5:15 am and got ready.

Race Day Outfit (toe to head):

Brooks Ravenna 2

Injinji Toe Socks

Lululemon Groove Biker Shorts

Lululemon Run: Stay On Course Tank in Glacier Lace

Target C9 Sports Bra

Saucony Arm Warmers in Envy

BIC Band Skinny Sparkle Apple Green

The plan worked out beautifully. Nervous about traffic, we left the hotel at 5:50 am (start time was 7 am). Luckily there was no traffic to be seen, probably because the road closures hadn't started yet. I ate my usual 1/2 peanut butter and jelly sandwich on wheat bread and drank a Gatorade Prime in the car on the way there. Jason got me from 18th Street (our hotel) to 42nd street by 6:00 am. I jumped out of the car and immediately thought, "Crap. It's really cold."

There was hardly anyone else there at this point so I wandered around for a few minutes trying to find a place that was shielded from the pretty cold breeze that was whipping around. I came across the start line, very sad and empty at the moment:

After taking this picture I decided that I was going to walk to the nearest hotel (The Cavalier) and hang out in the lobby until closer to start. Of course some other early-comers also had this idea, but not too many. I found a relatively peaceful corner and killed some time on my iPhone, then went to the bathroom (ahhhh, nice warm, clean, flushing  indoor bathroom), then stretched. Then killed more time. Then stretched. By now it was started to get more crowded. I betcha The Cavalier really hates Shamrock race weekend and all of the runners who invade its lobby at 6:30 in the morning. I especially felt bad for the people who had the bad luck of having a room on the first floor.

At 6:40 I took advantage of the indoor facilities again, stretched some more, then decided I should walk outside and make my way to my starting corral. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea at about the same time that I did, so there was a huge bottleneck of people trying to get in. I ended up walking down the street parallel to the corrals for 3 blocks, then taking a side street to access my start area.

This race was organized by the same folks who did the Virginia is for Lovers 14k, so I had learned my lesson about corral signs and made sure to get in front  of the sign for Corral 3.

In summary: I can't comment on parking because I didn't dare attempt it. Hanging out in the lobby of the hotel was nice (sorry/THANK YOU Cavalier Hotel), but if I had had to stay outside there were plenty of port o johns available and the lines didn't look terrible. I always appreciate a corraled start and the actual corral areas were large enough that I didn't feel like a sardine.

Course - C

Yet another disappointing course! Call me crazy, but when I go to participate in a race in a city with "Beach" in the name, I kind of expect a good part of the race to actually take place within view of the beach. Especially when said beach has a perfect boardwalk on which to run!

But I digress. Let me be positive first.

The good:
1. Flat. Flat. Flat. I looooooooooove me a flat course.
2. Good course support. For the first few miles and then last few miles there were lots of spectators, which is always a nice thing. Water and gatorade were available every 1.5 miles along with port-o-johns (thankfully I did not have to utilize any of them). The website claims that there were carb-boom energy gels at mile 6 but I sure didn't see them. This could be because I carried my own water and basically tried to steer clear from water stations.
3. Paved with lots of room. For the majority of the course we had at least 2 full lanes of road to run in and even in the beginning there was not a lot of traffic or bunching. This also made it easy to zoom through the water stops, as there was more than enough room for there to be water on both sides of the road and for people to keep running down the center.
4. Nice ending on the boardwalk next to the beach. (Imagine that!) The only time spent actually running on the waterfront was the last .5 miles, but those .5 miles were pretty glorious because there were tons of spectators, the beautiful ocean, and a clear view of the finish line!

The bad:
1. B-o-r-i-n-g. We spent time on a tree lined highway, then a few miles on Ft. Story (yawn). Not very stimulating. Where's the freaking beach????

Actually, I'm gonna say that's all that was bad about it. I was just really disappointed, obviously. Here I had imagined running on the boardwalk with the ocean and beach as my scenery and instead I get a highway, an army base, and more highway.

Finish - A+

The finish was my favorite part (isn't it always, though?). That last .5 mile flat, straight shot to the finish line was just great. I had pulled out my earphones and was looking/listening for J, but was unable to see him. Then I saw the giant race clock on the finish line and it said 2:02:40. I knew I had started 3 minutes behind wave 1 and that if I was going to get in under 2 I needed to book it. So I did! When I crossed the line I was so excited that I forgot to stop my Garmin right away, but when I reached down to shut it off it showed 1:59:17 - meaning I DID IT! I was so excited. Then I heard someone yelling my name and there was Jason on the sideline. I showed him my Garmin and got a quick high 5, then back down the chute.

The chute was large and wasn't overcrowded when I came through. First stop, medal.

How awesome is this medal? I love it.

Then water, gatorade, a race hat, Nature Valley Oat & Honey granola bars, a shamrock shaped sugar cookie, bananas, pretzels, and a Finisher sweatshirt (!). I never do this, but this time I stopped to get my official picture taken (first half marathon, gotta do it!) then made my way out of the chute to find Jason.

Once we located each other, he took some photos for me.

My only teeny tiny complaint about the race finish was that I had signed J up for text alerts so he'd be able to know when I crossed the finish even if he didn't lay eyes on me (and I'd have an immediate official time result) and it took a full hour for the text to finally show up!

I didn't participate in the post-race festival. I don't drink beer, so I had no interest in it. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I'll never have an interest in a post-race festival. When I'm finished all I want to do is drink some water, eat a granola bar, and get to a shower as quickly as possible.

Swag - A+

This race had some pretty impressive swag, in my opinion (as it well should have for the $95 registration fee!)

I got the drawstring bag and short sleeved tech race shirt at the Expo. The shirt is nice, but as usual, I should've sized down (I got a small and should've gone extra small... some day I will learn).

At the finish I got the medal of course, then the technical finishers hat and hoodie sweatshirt. Both are very nice. The hat is super light weight and comfortable - I can see myself wearing it this summer. The sweatshirts were available in sizes XS to XXL and you could get whatever you wanted, so I was able to get that in an extra small and it fits perfectly. Plus it is a hoodie and fleece lined, making it extra comfy.

Overall Grade: A-

I think I would run this race again. In fact, I just might try to run the full marathon here next year. The only thing I would change is I would try to get a hotel closer to the start line (this was my fault - I registered and then procrastinated on the hotel room and as a result everything was sold out). The course itself was disappointing but it was  flat and easy (relatively speaking of course). I believe that the marathoners get a better course that includes more ocean front:

Marathoners, taken from my hotel balcony

Personal Performance: A+

How could I give myself a grade of anything less? Not only did I run my first half, I managed a sub-2:00!

I did a few slightly daring things - I wore my arm warmers for the very first time and this was only the second time wearing my new Ravenna 2s. This could have ended in disaster, but I'm happy to say that the Ravenna 2s are nearly identical to my beloved originals and that the arm warmers turned out to be a new favorite item as well. Once I got warm around mile 4 it was very easy to roll them down and let the air hit my arms.

After much internal debate last week, I decided to run with my iPod. I did, however, pull out my earphones during the last half a mile to fully drink in all of the cheering and hoopla.

My first mile was pretty slow. I was afraid of going too fast and burning out. Eventually I worked into a comfortable pace and just went with whatever was feeling good. Once again, my left hip was bothering me slightly but other than that I felt pretty great. At times my legs got heavy, but I just powered through. I hardly looked at my Garmin at all. I drank my full 12 oz hand held water bottle, finishing it off around mile 12, but only ate 2 of the Swedish Fish that I had brought with me.

I checked in with my Garmin at mile 10 and realized that I had a lot of ground to make up if I was going to sub-2:00. Throughout those first 10 miles I knew that I wasn't running fast enough, but I honestly stopped caring. My body felt good, my breathing/cardio was absolutely fine, so I wanted to stick with what I was doing. I was going to finish a freakin' half marathon, so what if it wasn't in under 2 hours?

Then at mile 11 I saw a sign bobbing ahead of me in the crowd of people. At th start, I had been standing next to a pair of pacers who were dressed to the 9s in Irish gear (suspenders, kilts, socks, crazy green glittery glasses, etc). The man had a stick with a sign on the end that said "2:00" on it. They had taken off and were far out of my sight during most of the race. But then I saw that 2:00 sign waving above the heads of the runners ahead of me as I passed the mile 11 flat.

I thought to myself, "If you just catch them and hang with them, you can do this."

So I caught them. And hung with them for much of mile 12. And then something crazy happened. I wanted to run faster than they were. So I did! Then Gaga's "Bad Romance" came on just as I started mile 13 and I knew that I was going to do it. It was my song! How did my iPod know that I needed it right then? Who knows... but with the help of those pacers and Gaga, I ran mile 13 in 8 minutes and 23 seconds!

As I approached the finish and saw that I had just 20 seconds to achieve my goal, I opened it up and went full throttle, absolutely determined. Crossing the line with seconds to spare was an amazing feeling!

I am a half marathon finisher! Can't believe it.

So when's the next one????