By the numbers: Providence Marathon Race Recap

I can barely put into words the experience of my first marathon the other week. It was incredible, hard, fun, rewarding, painful, and everything in between. Instead of writing a blog post as long as the race itself, I am going to recap by the numbers.

18: the number of weeks I trained for the race.

563: the number of miles I ran, from January 1 to May 3rd.

55: the number of miles I ran during my highest mileage week.

20: Longest run pre-marathon.

3:03: How long it took me to run those aforementioned 20 miles. In the marathon, I hit 23 miles in exactly the same time.

3: the number of pairs of shoes worn for training. Mizuno Wave Inspire, Mizuno Wave Rider, Brooks Launch 2 Boston edition.

5:15: the time I woke up on the morning of the marathon. Rarely am I ever awake that early.

Is that you, sunrise?

15: the number of people I knew at the race. Jillian and Colleen ran the half marathon. Sharon, Amelia, Amanda, Than, and a Oiselle teammate Beth all ran the marathon. Robyn, Chris, Sarah, Sarah's parents, my parents and my brother were all there watching, cheering and taking pictures.

Chris, Robyn, Jillian, me and Colleen

Amelia (her first marathon as well!), Sarah and me

Dad and Mom

Me and Sharon

3 1/2: the number of GUs I consumed. In order: mandarin orange (my favorite!), triple berry, salted caramel, and half of a chocolate. By the time I tried my last one, it was so hot and the sugar was starting to make me feel sick. I held onto it for many miles and finally threw it away.

18: the mile at which I hit the wall. Mentally I was fine, but my legs tightened up like crazy. I felt like I slowed down considerably, even though in reality I was able to maintain a decent pace and even push through at the end.

22 and 24: the miles at which Robyn found me, first in pain and agony "deep cleansing breaths, like Deb taught us" and later in excitement and elation. Hearing her say "see you at the finish line!" helped me realize how close I was to finishing and qualifying.

"I can do this?"

"I can do this!"

7:59: my last mile. I was able to stay under 8:00 per mile for 18 miles before I hit the wall. As I approached the finish line, despite my legs being completely dead, I tried for one last rally. Sub-8 after 25 miles felt like a huge accomplishment!

164: My overall place. In a field of 1,107 runners, I was in the top 15%.

3:31:07: My official finishing time. Average pace of 8:01, and fast enough for a Boston Qualifier!

Full marathon results here.

Marathon "Precap"

The other night I had a dream that I qualified for Boston. That I ran a race that I was proud of, and that I could walk without pain after finishing my first marathon. This, I think, it the best sign of what I am about to do this weekend. On the one hand, I am anxious and unsure of what running 26.2 miles will feel like for me. But on the other hand, I am excited and know that I have worked very hard over the past five months. Hopefully I've done enough to ensure a good race on Sunday!

Like with any big race, I have a gradient of goals. A: Finish my first marathon. B: Run sub-4:00 C: Qualify for the 2016 Boston Marathon. I believe that I can hit all of these goals, but even if I just finish, I'll be happy.

Instead of detailing my training as a way of "precapping" this race, I want to share 26 photos from my runs, one for each miles of the race. Not sorry for all the selfies you're about to see.

Finally, big thanks are in order to a few people who have supported me in various ways throughout my training. First to my parents and brother, who have changed their schedules to allow my runs to happen, and for feeding me and picking me up after runs end in darkness. To my coach, Lauren, for guiding and supporting me with workouts that really challenged me and helped me grow. I wouldn't feel nearly as ready for the race if I hadn't had her plans to push and motivate me. To my training partner and bestie, Jillian, for enduring the long runs, complaining together and for picking me up when I was down or depleted after a workout. To my speedy co-blogger Robyn, who has been supportive of and excited for me and who will be there on Sunday as I cross the finish line. And finally, to all of our readers. I'm so lucky to have people who don't tire of listening to me talk about my running!

Westfield Half Marathon: Honoring My Brother and Race Recap

It does not escape me that, except for a small incident last year, I have been very lucky with my running health. My sophomore year of college I finally got smart about my training and since then I have been healthy and basically injury free. I have been able to run when I wanted to and trained hard through multiple training cycles. Since college, I've tackled the half marathon, run some respectable post-collegiate 5ks, and even hit 50+ mpw in my marathon training.

Not everyone close to me has been so fortunate. Robyn has gone through many ups and downs in her training; she is relentless and patient. My younger brother, too, has had a hard few years. Without going into too many details, David missed most of his junior soccer season this fall due to some serious health problems. He's healthy now and back to playing soccer, but his hiatus from the sport he loves offered a lot of perspective for me about my running.

With my cross country girls every fall, we encourage each of them to dedicate their races to someone--to find a person whose memory or story motivates the runner when the race gets hard. It could be a parent or best friend, a relative, the student at our school that passed away this fall, or anyone else. We don't ask for explanations. Each runner has her own reason for choosing someone to motivate them. They write the names on their hands and arms and then toe the line.

A few weeks ago, I ran the Westfield Half Marathon as a tuneup race, 5 weeks prior to my first marathon. The race was hilly (actually a lot hillier than I expected), so I went into the race with a relaxed mindset. This doesn't mean, however, that I wasn't motivated. I'm a competitive person and I accept nothing but the best from myself, and this race was no different. I knew as soon as I woke up that Sunday morning, that my brother's strength and resilience would push me to run hard that day. The course of the race alternated between fast, flat miles and long, hilly climbs. I ignored my watch and focused on effort and reeling people in. Around mile 8, I got pissed that I was approaching another hill and thought about stopping but having David in the back of my mind kept me going.

The last 5k in the race was flat to downhill, and I wanted to make up as much time as possible from the ascents in the bulk of the race. I changed gears and started really moving. Another runner pulled up behind me and breathed into my ear, "hey girl, you're cruising." I didn't realize that I was going any faster than I had been, but his words encouraged me to really cruise. I dropped down to 7:00 for my 12th mile and tried to keep it up in the last stretch. This was one of the hardest moments of my racing career. I felt strong and good, but I also felt like I was working so hard and I didn't know how long I could last. I thought of my brother and what he went through this fall with his medical treatments and how hard that truly was. How strong he was throughout everything and how gracefully he handled it all. The pain and discomfort I experienced from doing something I love was trivial. I hit mile 13 in 6:55 and crossed the finish line 5 seconds past my half marathon PR.

For me, this race was not about a PR or the time; it wasn't even a goal race. I'm happiest with how I finished, because it proved my speed endurance and validated the training I've been doing. And because I'm proud of my effort, I feel like I honored my brother in the best way I could.

Life Update (& Race Recap): WCRC 4 Miler

4 years 11 months 4 days.
That's how long I've waited to say these words: I ran a PR. It's true, I could have earned a college degree faster than I was able to improve on a single one of my personal bests in any event.

Which is why I can now officially retire from competitive running with a clear mind.

The last time I ran a personal best was in the 1500m at NESCAC outdoor championships on April 24th, 2010. I came so close senior year to setting a PR in the 1000m during indoor track. So close in fact, that you might have to put an asterisk next to that 4yr mark. I actually ran my exact PR to the hundredth of a second (3:09.77), but a tie is not a better time, so the drought went on until now.
Don't worry readers, I'll still post on the blog about my new run for fun life!











Oh and if you actually believed that I'm retiring, HA. APRIL FOOL'S to you, you big fool!

6 and 1/2 days on Earth

I used to live on Earth 6 and a half days of the week. The remaining half day was spent absorbed in the fuzzy haze that was race day. With a stare that could pierce a brick wall, I was transported to that floating otherworldly reality where burning competitiveness pumped through my veins. I could give off the impression that I was there talking with you, but you were really getting autopilot responses while I envisioned the crowd-muffling sensation of going race mode. I wasn't always this way.  One time I almost napped through the start of a high school track race. I wasn't serious yet, I knew the joy of running, but had not the need for speed ingrained into my bones, my very being.When I was younger my pre-race routine was somewhat less finicky; I avoided eating Cheese Nips, the one food I threw up during a race, which falls somewhat short of the transcendental trance I was apt to be found in on any given Saturday morning during college.

Some days now I'll daydream about racing during a training run. To the point that I'll catch myself making faces despite the fact that I'm doing 8 minute miles. I have to snap myself out of it so that I don't a) run into the front of the treadmill or b) get lost. Both of which have happened more than I like to admit. 

Now the cloud came not from a sense of nervousness or fear. Races were not life or death, make or break. But, like getting into a good book, I loved the feeling of being completely absorbed. The other 6.5 days of the week my brain is like an overexcited puppy with ADD stuck on a runaway freight train. Here, on race day, I knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed to do, and how I wanted to feel. The simplicity and clarity of it all is therapeutic. A chance for me to release all of the pent up fears, dreams, and frustrations in a channeled display of insanity. For in the end it came down to one thing, putting your everything on the line.  There aren't too many things that can make you, in the moment, know unequivocally that there is only one thing you want. The line. 

"The gun goes off and everything changes...the world changes...and nothing else really matters"

Captured in my natural habitat
(photo: M.Gouzie)

This post was inspired by my second time reading the book "Pain" by Dan Middleman. A good read if you're on the lookout for running novels.

~Robyn "race cadet" Runner

Marathon Motivation

Recently one of my students, a star basketball player, asked me how I stay motivated to run day in and day out. For her, like for so many team sport athletes, the constant games, Win-Loss columns, and stats help them keep track of their progress. If they lose one game, they rebound quickly and move on to the next a few days later. So when my student found out that I'm spending almost half a year training for one race, and I have one shot to get it right (whatever "it" is), she was really puzzled.

I told her about how I set goals for myself and because I have specific goals I can know tell if I'm improving or not. Running often becomes objective; you hit a certain split or you don't, you come in first or you don't. And so even though it will still be months before I race my first marathon, knowing that I have committed to running a BQ means that I need to push myself every day to work for this. If I miss qualifying, I can't whine my way to an entry to Boston for the following year, or use my charming personality or make excuses. The numbers are the numbers. It's kind of scary, and it's extremely motivating.

I told my student about how much money I've invested into this race. Registering for a marathon isn't cheap. I could stop there, but I also have a coach whom I pay monthly. She provides me with training plans and motivation and it's undoubtedly worth every penny. There are, of course, the running shoes every handful of months to keep my legs fresh, and running clothes to keep my warm/dry/cool/fly. After spending so much time at the gym and on the treadmill (hello 13 mile tempo run), I splurged and bought some bluetooth headphones. What started as one race fee has turned into a big investment, and it will be worth it if I can run my best race come May.

And of course I told her about how I love to run. Some days clearly more than other days but I genuinely love to run and that's how I choose to spend my time. If I were passionate about basketball instead, I'd be in the gym every day practicing my shot like she does. Instead, I'm out slogging miles or hitting splits.

All of this talk of motivation made me pause and reflect upon my 2 months of marathon training so far. It's been going really well and I haven't missed a single workout. I don't hate the treadmill and I feel fit and pretty fast. The future is bright. This is great!

...And then this week I totally botched a workout. Like, really badly. Mad at myself for not managing my time better and with really heavy legs, I quit a workout that I love halfway through. I started crying on the treadmill next to some man calmly walking and reading the WSJ and definitely within earshot of a colleague whom I respect and admire (and who I think is pretty cute). I was embarrassed to have to tell my coach that I couldn't finish and really started to doubt myself. I was mentally and physically exhausted. The next day wasn't much better; I had to stop a mile and a half (a mile and a half!!!!) into a mere 3 mile run to stretch out my calves. If I couldn't run 3 miles, how was I supposed to train for, let alone race, a whole marathon? I resigned myself to a week's worth of training of junk miles and dreaded my long run later in the week.

I went to bed and the next day, I tried to just run. I bundled up because I couldn't bear the treadmill once again, and forgot about the tempo I was supposed to run. I chose a route that I love, and just went. A mile in and I didn't feel so bad after all. A few miles in and I threw in some tempo miles after all. I got back to campus in the dark (with my reflector vest, don't worry) (but yeah, time management, huh?) and I felt a million times better. I did actually like running, and I could actually train for a marathon. 7 miles with up-tempo miles wasn't even that hard. I can do this.

A long picture from a long run

So after this volatile training week, I got my motivation back. Just in time, too. Yesterday I ran 14.5 miles--my longest run ever! It certainly took a while and my legs were aching at the end but with my best friend and training partner by my side, a couple of GUs, and some beautiful scenery, I pulled it off and I want more. I'm still daunted for my upcoming and increasingly long long runs, for the inevitable pain (and chafing), but I'm also still motivated to run.

Friday Favorites

It’s Friday! Time for a compilation of some of our recent favorite things.

Rachel

Favorite gear: Oiselle’s Wazzie Wool Baselayer in geofast red. So comfortable and warm. It’s been my go-to in these frigid temps when I just can’t stand the dreadmill anymore

Favorite run: a 9 mile loop in the neighboring town. Rolling rural roads and beautiful views.

Favorite song: Outside- Calvin Harris ft. Ellie Goulding

Favorite Instagram: Runnersloveyoga. Her posts remind me to slow down, stretch out, and work on my strength in order to improve my running.

Robyn  

Favorite run: 9.4mi loop around the Charles from my apartment, past Harvard and back on the BU side of the river

Favorite superset: 3 x [10 squat rack, 20 roman chair back extensions, 10 straight arm pull downs]

Favorite quote (of the week): “When you walk, one foot is always on the ground. When you run, most of the time you are actually airborne. For example: a 6-foot-tall runner with feet about 1 foot long was found to take 1,250 steps while running 8-minute miles. Thus, while covering 1 mile—5,280 feet—he was in touch with the ground for 1,250 feet and airborne for 4,030 feet.

Put another way, he was in the air for 76% of the time. So don’t think of it as a 10-mile run. Think of it as 7 miles of flying.” -Paul Richardson

Favorite Kick: Brenda Martinez (and Team USA) to win the DMR and set a new World Record.