Track Crazies

"For something to hurt that bad, and feel so good, it's just inexplicable"-Adam Goucher

Every so often, a runner goes crazy. She intentionally decides to inflict hurt upon herself, to put herself on the line, and risk disappointment. Sound familiar? This is the track workout.

Recently, I felt myself heading down this path. Frustrated after a hard day at work, I felt the need to relieve some stress. Although I had been craving some local ice cream, my thoughts immediately went to the track. For some reason, the idea of pounding out 400s on the track, rounding those corners again and again, gasping for air, legs heavy from lactic acid, appealed to me. Oh yes, its masochistic. But at the same time it feels fantastic to leave it all on the track. I knew that if I could get through this workout I would feel so much better.

Yesterday I almost didn't make it. It threatened to rain, and then did, and I considered scrapping the workout and biking at the gym while watching old episodes of SNL. But in the back of my head was the reminder that I wanted to run fast, and that this doesn't happen overnight or on its own, so I laced up and headed to the track. I'm working up to this 10k in a week so I went for a classic 10k workout from college: 3xMile. Like my last race, I didn't know what to expect for this workout. I figured I'd aim for 7:45 pace and try to dip down the last mile. As I started my first rep, I realized I hadn't even calculated my splits, and since I am not great at math, I had no idea what to shoot for. Having been on the track probably a thousand times, there are certain benchmarks: 1:30 for 400 is 6:00 pace, 1:45 is 7:00. But what if I wanted to run 7:39? Forget it. I started out at a comfortably hard pace and didn't check my watch until the first quarter. The math still eluded me but as I saw a 1:49, I knew that this would be a good workout. And so the chase began. On the one hand, I was pushing myself hard, constantly reminding myself not to let up on the back stretch, and to use my arms to motivate my legs. On the other hand, I didn't want to be disappointed; it was only a track workout after all, and it was just me out there.

I split every 400 and even as my splits dropped, I continued to feel good. Between miles I took roughly 1 minute rest, and felt heavy, droopy, and queazy in the thick, spring air. But once I stepped back on the track and began again, the humidity would fade and I could focus once again. I clocked two miles in 7:14, 7:15, with the first mile being my new post-broken leg mile PR. After mile 2 I felt good and decided I was going to go for sub-7 for my third mile. I started out a little harder than I had before, and crossed 800 at 3:32, slightly above 7:00 pace. I dug in, faced the wind and rain around the corners, checked my watch with 200 to go, and went for it. I do not have the best kick, but dammit I wanted a sub-7 mile. I may have groaned out loud as I crossed the finish line (I did). 6:58. This is a post-broken leg PR that I can be proud of.

What I'm most excited for, though, is the difference between this workout and my 5k race just a few short weeks ago. I'm not saying that I could average 7-flat for 6.2 miles next weekend in Providence on a hilly course, but now I have confidence in my ability. Throughout the workout I reminded myself that it was only myself holding me back. Not my legs, not my training, not the weather or the road conditions. If I want to run fast, I can.

Cast to 5K: Complete

"When the legs go fast, the heart goes free" -Lauren Fleshman

There is something to be said for rest. Despite having been on my feet and back running seriously for 4 weeks, when it came time for my first race back (!) after breaking my leg in December, I was hoping that rest was on my side, and that the time off my feet would actually help me in my glorious return to competition.

There is also something to be said for adrenaline. I really wasn't sure what to expect for this race. I had run a handful of fast miles but hadn't done any real speed work yet and had run no more than 7 miles at a time. Certainly I had a base, but what was I to expect in a race where 3 months prior I was in a walking boot? The excitement of the race propelled me forward, along with the sloping downhill of the first mile, and my competitive spirit came back.

Before the race started, I warmed up for 15 minutes nice and slowly. I had my racing flats on and some new Oiselle duds (the Winona Tank is the softest article clothing I own, and Oiselle's signature Roga Shorts are tight and flattering without the bunching up of spandex and are the absolutely best pair of shorts I have ever owned), so I was ready to focus on the race. I drank a lot of water and did a few dynamic stretches, because let's not get too ahead of ourselves with pre-race prep. Joining me were the boyfriend and my best friend and running buddy from work, who ran almost the whole race with me.

We don't look pretty, but we look like we worked hard!

My goal was to run sub-24, but I didn't have a true sense of how my fitness and speed would play out in the race. We started in the middle of the pack and went out comfortably. I was surprised when I looked at my watch that we were chatting easily at 7:45 pace. We somehow managed to keep that up and went through the first mile in 7:44. We soon stopped talking and started passing people. The race, Jog with Judy, was a relatively flat out-and-back, so we looped around the farthest point and picked up the pace a little more. I saw a lot of women ahead of me but we kept it up and were able to pass many of them. The second mile ticked off in 7:42 and we had negative split! Unfortunately the last mile was the most uphill and this was where it started to feel hard. I dug deep and was surprised to find that I actually had another gear. Maybe it was that my legs were actually well rested, or maybe it was the adrenaline, but I was determined not to slow down. It hurt and I liked it. It felt good to run fast again, and especially to do so while passing lots of people. With less than half a mile left, I yelled to my friend to come with me as I surged, but she didn't have it in her and so I went. I battled with one last woman as we rose and approached the finish line and she ultimately won but I was okay with that because I was spent.

I crossed the line in 23:48, beating my goal of sub-24 and I negative split the whole way and came from behind, which in my opinion is always the best and smartest way to race. And running with a friend and partner for the majority of the race gave me so much strength to keep working hard. I finished 4th in my age group, but the 3rd woman was over a minute faster than I was so I don't feel so bad about that.

I'm charged up about being truly back, about averaging 7:39 pace (that's my half marathon pace already), about long runs and track workouts and no more PT. And I'm psyched to race more and get my speed back, so I have two potential races lined up to keep me honest. First is a Girls on the Run 10k in Providence which supports a great organization, on June 1st, and soon thereafter is the Hollis Fast 5k in New Hampshire on June 12th, which claims to be the fastest 5k in New England. I'll take it! I have a lot of work to do to get to anywhere near my speed from college but after so long I'm definitely ready to take on the challenge.

Follow me and Robyn as we chase down some new PRs this spring and summer!

Celebrating our comebacks post-race

Dear Deb: A Letter To My Coach

Dear Deb,

Congratulations on your upcoming retirement. This letter is simply to say thank you for all that you gave to me, to my innumerable teammates and to Colby's track and cross country programs. Although I didn't choose Colby simply for the cross country team, you had a big influence on my decision; an athlete's ability to work with a coach is so crucial for the success and happiness of the individual and the team. I immediately knew that I was in good hands with you. You were the adult presence that we wild and crazy college kids needed: someone to tell us when to stop and when to go,  who challenged and supported us and genuinely cared. The girls on the team were my sisters, and you were our mother; I think the credit is due to you that many Colby track and cross country friendships still run so strong after graduation. You created a safe space for us. Personally, I often felt like I had failed miserably or felt confined by my own limitations, but you kept pushing me, and your presence and support kept me going. And when I succeeded and "crushed my goals," as you once said about one of my races, you were so happy and proud. You celebrated all of us, and not just on the track or the course. You made sure that we were on track with our studies. It felt good, and I was always proud, that you ensured that we were students before athletes, and that you expected us to be our best in both aspects of our lives.

You also made sure we enjoyed and appreciated our beautiful surroundings. I loved always visiting your camp for the long runs, the lake time and your incredible coking. I was never bored on our runs, marveling at the fall sunsets or the sparkling icy winters or the random goat on someone's porch. Because of you, I got to know Maine in a way that I had not anticipated when I decided to go to Colby. Running in Rome was always an out of body experience, running by the horses and striving to reach the water at the end of the run. Even Upper and Lower trails became meditative in their own stubborn way.  I never knew I could love Maine as much as I did. All of my best memories from college are from the cross country and track teams.

As a cross country coach now, I appreciate you in another way as well. It is no secret that you knew what you were doing with your athletes, and it was no question for me that I would adapt your training model for my high school runners. My girls have run well and whenever I have a question about how to prepare for a certain race or how to best take care of my girls, I ask myself what you would do. I found success with your support and so I trust that my runners will do the same with my guidance. Although I work with a different demographic, the care of athletes and love of the sport still holds true. If my girls graduate being half as fond of me as we were of you, I will know that I have succeeded.

With you, after graduation

After each season, you would always give each of the seniors a yellow rose for everlasting friendship and thanking them for their contributions to the team. I still have all three of mine, dried up and drooping in my bedroom. This letter is my yellow rose to you: a reminder of the friendship, camaraderie, support, and Mule Love that you gave me and all of my teammates. I wish you happiness, lots of family time and beautiful runs in your retirement. Because of you, I am proud to be a Colby Mule.

Sincerely,
Rachel

Standing up against pancreatic cancer - Welzel Strong

Dear friends and readers,

I wish I could write you with better news, but unfortunately that is not the case this time. Just a few weeks back we found out that my goofy, thick-Boston accented, marathon ace Aunt Jane has pancreatic cancer. It certainly wasn’t what I expected to hear that afternoon, and the feeling of déjà vu was unpleasant and unnerving. You see, several years ago, my mom got the same phone call about her brother, my uncle Andy, who eventually lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. Thus, this diagnosis is a double-whammy for my family. Pancreatic cancer can be genetic, and having two siblings in a family afflicted means that we need to jump into action for genetic screening and perhaps routine monitoring for the rest of us. You better believe that the first thing I did after finding out was to pull up PubMed and start researching the success rates of treatment, stats on increased risk for familial inheritance, the latest in screening options, and success of early detection. I won’t lie and say the numbers are favorable…

While the odds are against us, I know that if anyone can fight this, it’s Jane. She certainly has everything that can work for her, working for her. After all, if anyone is going to stand up to cancer, it’s going to be a Welzel. (Long-running family joke that Welzels regularly refuse to sit and would rather stand: maybe restless leg syndrome is hereditary too). Besides, this wouldn't be the first time Jane has overcome extraordinary odds. First of all, she qualified and ran in 5 U.S. Olympic marathon trials.  Not impressed yet? She broke her neck in a terrible car accident in between Olympic trials #1 and #2, and spent three months in a cast. I can still recall some hilarious stories my mom told me of taking full upper-body cast Jane out for walks: with a few falls and ensuing hilarity in trying to get back up since her legs still were remembering how to function. And that’s only a drop in the sea of the endless “crazy Aunt Jane” stories (like the time she spent a night in a tree after being chased on a run by a moose during mating season, or when she taught my little cousin Kate an age-inappropriate catch-phrase:  “kick-ass Kate”, or the shorts with fake plastic butts that she wears with her friends to  trick people into thinking they are being mooned). In her professional life, she is up against another difficult statistic – the prevalence of eating disorders in athletes. As a psychotherapist, she specializes in counseling those with eating disorders. My point is, look up resilience in the dictionary and don’t be surprised to see a Welzel standing there (yep, still not sitting!).

I am telling you all of this because in support of my entire family for what we have been through, what we’re going through, and the future unknown challenges, I am fundraising money for pancreatic research and awareness. As a scientist, I know first hand the impact that public awareness can have on funding levels. The most fitting way that I can see to try to help my family is through running: on June 14^th, I will be toeing the line for the second time at the PurpleStride 5K in Washington D.C.. I ran this race last year  in honor of Uncle Andy and in my first time breaking 20 minutes on the roads. Little did I know just how much more special this race would feel to me one year later. And that is why, despite all the odds against me (being out of shape from having pneumonia in February and an unrelenting work schedule), I am going to attempt to break 19 minutes for the first time at this race. Besides, what’s post-pneumonia lung compared to a broken neck? In these next two months, I’m going to be training “Welzel Strong” to beat the odds at this race. I'd love to have anyone who lives nearby join me!

Thanks for reading my story! I hope you will consider donating a few bucks to my fundraising page if you can afford it. The link to donate is below.

http://purplestride.kintera.org/dc/welzel_strong

Jane - nicknamed her tumor "Pigpen", from Peanuts, for when she beats it, the dust will settle.
(unlike her opponents, who she left in the dust)

The Anti-Gravity Experience

As I mentioned in my last post, one of the ways that I got back on my feet (literally) as soon as I did was because I ran on an anti-gravity treadmill. Its huge advantage is that you can run at a percentage of your body weight to minimize the impact on your legs. I ran so much more than I thought I would be able to, but before I recount my weightless experiences, let's go back a little farther.

The summer before senior year of high school, my mom connected me with a colleague and friend who coached and ran. Her guidance and support, among other influences, helped me reach the next level of running and training, and senior fall I finally had the cross country season I was hoping for, and got my 5k times down enough to run in college. This mentor, Marcia, helped me think about my training, connected me with a sports masseuse, and got me in the pool the first time for aqua jogging. Marcia is the queen of aqua jogging, due--unfortunately--to the many injuries that have plagued her over the years. She has since stopped running, but we've kept in touch and she always inquires into my running when she sees my mom.

December, when I broke my leg, was the first time I considered an anti-gravity treadmill. I knew that elites often ran on them, but never thought that I, a mere D3 college runner, could or should try it out. My mom brought up Marcia and her connection to a local AlterG (that's the brand) at my very first orthopedist appointment. I was barely on crutches, but was already planning on my return to running via an anti-gravity treadmill.

No sooner was I given the green light to run (3 months to the day that I broke my leg), than I contacted Marcia and booked an appointment on the AlterG. For those of you in the Boston area, this one is in Woburn, right off of I-93. It was surprisingly affordable for 60 minutes, and I visited once for free to work with the physical therapist to figure out the machine and focus on my stride. To get set up on the AlterG, you put on wetsuit-like shorts that zip into the bubble. You turn the machine on and it weighs you and calibrates. This is where it starts to feel exciting, because as it's figuring you out, you're being raised and lowered by the seat of your pants. I elected to run at 80% of my body weight, and it didn't feel particularly special. Any lower percentage and I felt like my feet were barely touching the ground. But at 80%, I was able to run without pain for 3 miles. We won't talk about how slow those miles were, because that short distance was a huge milestone in and of itself. Once I turned the machine off and came back to 100% gravity, I noticed the difference; all of a sudden my legs felt so heavy and leaden. This is how our legs normally feel, and the difference of 20% body weight makes me realize how much stress we put on our bodies on a daily basis. The AlterG is undoubtedly a great advantage for elites or recovering runners, and it turns out that anti-gravity treadmills are way more accessible than I thought. Many marathoners will often do one anti-gravity run a week to minimize the pounding in a high milage training plan. The treadmill looks badass, but isn't just for those hardcore folks out there. I encourage everyone to try it out, either for the thrill of weightlessness or for the recovery advantage.  

Marcia accompanied me on the last day, and as I slogged through the miles, she took pictures of me and we caught up and talked about running and life (one in the same, right?). I am so grateful to Marcia for her support over many years despite her own athletic ups and downs, and for introducing me to her secret recovery weapon. She refers to the AlterG as "Mariah" because it can be a lifesaver. This is certainly true in my case, for it not only got me back to running and kickstarted my running recovery, but it gave me the confidence and strength to tackle the humbling and invariably frustrating experience of a slow comeback. Thanks to Marcia and Mariah, I have many miles ahead of me once again. 

Training like an Elite

Three months to the day that I broke my leg, I started running again. But before I go on about how awesome it is to run again (because it is), I want to reflect on some things that happened to me during my recovery process.

Robyn was the one who pointed this out to me. After I texted her about setting up an appointment to run on an anti-gravity treadmill, she observed that I’ve essentially been training like an elite runner, minus the whole running part. And she’s right; I’ve run on both an underwater and anti-gravity treadmill, machines that your average runner doesn’t normally have access to. More on that later. I’ve also been working with a physical therapist (read: trainer) on strengthening my legs and working on those inequities that developed from 6 weeks in a walking boot. But what Robyn doesn’t know is that I’ve also formed some pretty solid connections with a couple of my favorite (actual) elite runners.

First, I was driving on Comm Ave in Newton a couple of weekends ago, looking yearningly at the runners out for their long runs and Boston Marathon build up runs, when I noticed one runner running with traffic. That’s annoying, I thought, any real runner knows to run against traffic. I looked closer and realized that there was a reason this runner was running with traffic. Clearly she was training on the exact path of the marathon, instead of sticking to the safer sidewalks. There was someone biking next to her, protecting her from traffic. She was blonde and she was going fast. Could it have been…it must have been Shalane Flanagan! Perhaps the best American female distance runner and the top American woman in last year’s Boston Marathon. I didn’t stop or roll down my window to say hi, and this may very well end up being one of the biggest regrets of my life because seriously, how cool would that be? I was still only 99% sure that it was Shalane (a Massachusetts native as well—twinsies!) so I casually tweeted at her when I got into Boston and put my phone away. Little did I expect a response. Day/week/life made:

Meanwhile, Shalane’s longtime best friend and training partner, Kara Goucher, also had some great recent news. After running for Nike in Oregon for 12 years, Kara ended her contract with the athletic goliath and moved back to Colorado to train with her coach, legendary Mark Wetmore. At the same time, Kara needed a new sponsor and after a lot of deliberation she signed with Oiselle! I’ve written about them here and there on our blog before, but it’s an awesome women’s apparel company that makes comfy and fly clothes and champions women’s running. I have loved every article of Oiselle clothing I get and I’m so glad that Kara and I will now be twinning in our neon strappy bra and rogas. Kara has been my favorite runner/role model/hero/motivation for years, so now we’re basically best friends.

Aside from Shalane and Kara, I follow a lot of other professional and elite female runners (Lauren Fleshman, Jordan Hasay, Alexi Papas, Mary Cain, Brenda Martinez, etc) and one thing that they do often with their coaches and training programs is to train at altitude. Training at altitude is all about putting in the hard work now to reap the benefits later. At altitude, the air is much thinner so you have to work harder when you breathe to absorb enough oxygen. It takes a while to acclimate but training, or simply being, at a high altitude will allow you to maximize your oxygen intake when you come back to sea level, likely for competition.  Although this was not my intent (I won’t be racing for a while still) I headed up and out to spend a long weekend in Lake Tahoe, California with one of my best friends for spring break. The trip was so fun and Tahoe is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It’s an active place so I did as the Romans do and hiked, walked, paddled and ran. Yes, I actually ran this time! My first real run back I was very careful and ran on a flat and clear bike path. I did 2 minutes running/2 minutes of walking for a total of 20 minutes, plus a long walking warm up and cool down. Look at me getting after it. Even though I’m sure I was going at least 10-minute mile pace and probably looked ridiculous, I felt awesome (must have been the Oiselle apparel I was wearing) and elite-worthy. I snapped some pictures during my walking intervals to document my return to running in this beautiful and altitudinous destination.

So even though I’ve only run a total of 3 miles, maybe, since being cleared to run, you better believe that I’m out to get it. Rubbing elbows with elites and using elite-worthy equipment has motivated me to keep after it and hopefully I’ll be able to enjoy a true run outside, just in time for Spring! Stay tuned for my anti-gravity treadmill recap, since you’re probably not even reading this anymore. And if you just read this whole post, thanks and you should probably stop and go for a run. 

Pacers for Marathons & World Records

Remember back in 2011 when they decided that women’s world records that were performed with male pacers were no longer recognized? Refresher article if not:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/22/sports/for-womens-road-records-only-women-only-races-will-count.html?_r=0

Wellll, I’m whistle-blowing a double standard here. To be honest, I was mildly annoyed back in 2011 about this but had long since forgotten about it. When I heard that Haile Gebrselassie was pacing the 2014 London Marathon, I thought aha!, a great point to support my side of the debate.  Yes, I acknowledge that he’s not going the whole way and he’s on the older side, but Geb is a world-class runner and it would be hard to argue that his pacing contribution during the first 30k (18mi) is insignificant. Just something to think about when we glorify the “assistance” of a pacer for women’s marathoning  simply because they can go the whole race when men also have pacers for nearly ¾ of the race.

Side note for fellow running book lovers, check out The Greatest: The Haile Gebrselassie Story

Pneumonia update:

Survived 4 days of skiing with Ben, stopping to catch my breath turned out to be a good time for pictures!

I went for a 3 mile jog today and it didn't kill me, a great surprise after struggling through two 9:00 miles last week. Feels great to be back on my feet.

ffffffrozen

Mont-Tremblant