The Race of My Life

This past Sunday I officially became that asshole who cries at the finish line of a big race. I have no problem with people doing this at the end of a full marathon - if you DON'T cry at the finish, you're barely human - but given that this was my 3rd half marathon, and my 2nd in the last 2 months, this wasn't some sort of life changing moment. I'd run the distance before. Hell if we're going by the distance alone, I've run that distance at least a dozen times. But this race was different. I had the race of my life.

It started out god awful. The first mile I had this sharp, shooting pain in my stomach - it felt like someone was stabbing me with a knife over and over again. I legitly wasn't sure I'd be able to keep going like that for 13 miles, that's how bad the pain was. But, by some miracle of god, the pain went away after about 10 minutes and it stayed away the rest of the race. Because that first mile had been so crappy, I decided to screw the race plan, and just run the entire thing by feel.

The first 4 miles FLEW by, and then on this one stretch by mile 4.5 there were the funniest signs that someone had nailed to consecutive telephone polls. My favorite said "Remember, you PAID to do this!!"  I'm usually so damn focused when I race that I don't even notice the signs - these definitely made me laugh and I love that someone took the time to climb up a telephone pole and nail these posters. Classic.

We passed the 5 mile mark, and I got excited. My parents had driven all the way down to Philly to watch me run this race, and I knew they'd be cheering around mile 5.5. I came up Chestnut Street and there they were, mom cheering with my cheerleading pom poms from middle school and dad videotaping me on his phone! That was really awesome. They always came to my athletic stuff growing up, but competitive sports pretty much ended for me when I was 18. It was so great to have them out there cheering me on!

And from then on I cruised through the race. I gave a high 5 to who I can only assume was Benjamin Franklin, and smiled at the people cheering my name (our bibs had our names on them - nice touch, Philly half organizers!). Then, I have to hand it to them, the Drexel kids were friggin awesome. The race was early (7am start time), and those frat boys were out on the sidewalk, blasting music and screaming for the runners. Some were handing out Keystone Light - I didn't drink that shit in college, I wouldn't drink it during a half marathon, but I LOVED the gesture! There were some gnarly hills over in that area, which were somewhat unexpected, so the boost was very much appreciated.

The finish line for this half was about 2 tenths of a mile further down the road than it was for the Philly half I ran in September. It was kind of funny because you come out under this overpass and that's where the previous finish line was. I was charging hard, thinking I had literally 5 seconds left of the race, and then was like "Oh shit, I have another 30 seconds left." So I stayed charging hard, but I lifted my head up and took in the amazing crowd. I don't think I've ever felt that good finishing a race. I crossed the finish line, hands in the air, and slapped my watch to stop the clock. I looked down at the time to see one hell of a PR - and that's when it happened. I started crying. Like a complete asshole.

Part of it was that I was proud of the PR, part of it was happiness that I'd just enjoyed a race for the first time ever, and part of it was relief that it was done - it was a fine moment of catharsis. I had been putting so much pressure on myself to do well, hit a certain time, stay competitive with my friends who were also running, make my coaches proud, do well in front of my parents, etc. Thank god for coach Jason - he put everything in perspective for me last week. Without his guidance, advice, and tough love, I don't think I would've performed as well as I did in Philly; and there's no way I would've enjoyed it as much.

I feel amazing. I don't think I'll ever forget that feeling as long as I live.

Miles for Brian

Tonight my friend Sarah, who did the San Diego season with me, posted a link with an update on her cousin, Brian, who was her inspiration for her TNT marathon experience. Brian was diagnosed a few years ago with Stage IV soft tissue sarcoma; the cancer progressed to his brain, and things are not looking good. For the full story, please read their blog update on Caring Bridge:  http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/brianmichaelschultz

It's heartbreaking. Brian has a matter of months at this point. He has a wife and baby daughter, and the reality of the situation is that he's likely going to have to leave them. Miracles do happen and no one should EVER give up hope, but it's equally important to accept the gravity of the situation and do what you can here and now to make sure whatever time he has is as wonderful as it can be; it's precious time, for certain. The blog talks about how the family is pursuing palliative care, which is such a great decision. I wish we had known a little bit more about some of the options for palliative care for Grandpa. We were fortunate that he wasn't in severe pain for long, but the benefits of palliative and hospice care are undeniable, and the sooner you begin it, the more comfortable the person will be for a longer period of time. There is a wonderful book called Final Journeys that is written by a hospice nurse named Maggie Callahan. She passes along amazing advice and lessons to families tending to a dying person. It's something I wish I'd read in June, though when I read it in August I did find some comfort. I hope this book makes it into the hands of Brian and his family, if for no other reason than to help them feel like they're not alone.

When Grandpa was diagnosed back in January, we were told he only had months. Grandpa said it was a time for tears and prayer. I think now is that time for Brian.

Miles for Brian tomorrow.

The wall of Grandpa's oncology floor at UMass Memorial in Worcester

Consecutive Hills of Death

Today we did the infamous GWB run (for those unfamiliar, the GWB is the George Washington Bridge). It's sort of a misnomer, since the bridge is only the first mile of the run, and then it's down into Palisades Park, NJ, for a crazy hilly run. During my San Diego season, this run was one of the highlights, no doubt. I met my running partner, Audrey, and we conquered the crap out of those hills, including the half mile almost-straight-vertical incline on the way back up to the bridge. We felt like we could move mountains.

Today, I did not feel like that. Today, I felt like shit. I knew it would be a tough run - as with our San Diego season, Michael announced that this would be the hilliest run we'd do all season. I'd been through those hills before, I knew what to expect: I knew there were some bad ones and some rolling ones and some that seemingly never end. It wasn't the hills themselves that made today a crap run. I can't explain it, but for some reason the entire second half of the run I felt really dizzy. My nutrition and hydration were dead on, I didn't go out last night, I slept fine, I ate a good breakfast - like I said, I can't explain it. Then when we finished I laid down and put my legs up (to get my legs higher than my heart) and I got absolutely freezing. The weird thing is, it was actually really warm today - sunny and mid 60s - so I had no reason to be that cold. At that point I guess my lips had turned blue, but not being able to see my own face, I didn't realize that was happening. I don't know why this happened. I changed in Michael's car into some dry clothes, which helped, and I had a little food shortly thereafter which I'm assuming helped too, but my lips stayed slightly blue for a couple hours and I was still pretty cold most of the day. Not ideal.

I feel fine now, so I think everything is okay. No one had a particularly great run today, due to the brutal elevation changes - Steph and Olya actually referred to them as the consecutive hills of death. Next weekend my long run will be the Philly half marathon, where there will be NO hills and it should be a GREAT run :)

Well That Sucked

Last night it was back to the hills - this time we were "cresting" the hills, which means you sprint up the hill and then maintain your effort level (constant breathing) as the road flattens out. I was grateful that we were working with a much less steep hill, as we used the hill at west 86th, but right off the bat I knew I wasn't going to have an awesome practice. My left leg has really been bothering me for a few weeks now. The pain in my thigh appears to keep rotating - sometimes it feels like the center of my quad, sometimes it feels like the VMO, sometimes it feels like the hip, sometimes it feels like the groin, and sometimes it's just impossible to pinpoint. My PT doesn't feel a tear and confirmed that it's likely just a sore muscle or charley horse of some kind, so I'm just trying to be patient and massage, stretch, and heat it, and hope it subsides.

Then there's the knee - the goddamn knee. The original problem with my knees had to do with the patella being horribly pulled to the outside and grinding against the cartilage. That pain is to the front and the outside of the knee. Oh how I wish the current pain were to the front and the outside... No, this pain is now in the back and center of the knee. It's right where the hamstring connects to the knee, so when you're running hills (aka blasting your hamstrings), the pain is amplified and the ligament is aggravated. Super frigging awesome. During repeat number 5 I asked Michael Conlon (who is also a PT) to look at it, and he said the ligament is likely inflamed. That means icing, motrin, rest, and stretching for a few days and we'll see if it improves. Fingers crossed, pretty pretty please!! I had to stop after the 5 repeats so as to not aggravate it any further, which was a bummer since I was supposed to do between 6 and 8, and I don't like failing. I'm hoping it's for the best and it'll let the knee repair or relax or just chill the F out. Sigh...

NYC Marathon Weekend

Whether you're a running enthusiast or not, the buzz that comes over a city during its marathon weekend is undeniable and extremely contagious. This weekend was no exception, as it was the NYC marathon weekend, meaning it's one of the most prestigious marathons in one of the world's most amazing cities, and I'm lucky enough to call it home.

The weekend kicked off with a hell of a long run on Saturday morning - my best so far this season. We ran an out and back up the west side highway, which you all know is my personal favorite place to run in the city, and we had such a great time! Legs were strong, lungs were strong, I'm loving the people in my pace group, and we were dead on as far as pacing. Can't ask for anything more than that!! Throw in a post-run ice bath and a Brooklyn brewery beer and I do believe I've found my groove for this season. OHH YEAH!!

Then Sunday it was on to spectating the NYC marathon. I headed down to Greenpoint to mile 12.5 to cheer at one of the official TNT cheer stations, which was awesome. There's an excitement in the air as you see the NYPD motorcycles come around the bend, and then the press van, and then finally the lead women runners! Those ladies are FAST, let me just tell you. They go flying by so fast and have the most amazing physiques, and you can't help but envy and admire them. Next up are the lead men, and it's the exact same rush (except I don't really envy a man's physique...). It makes you want to run if you aren't already a runner, and if you are already a runner it makes you want to get faster. A LOT faster.

The crowd of runners starts to thicken and we were all obsessively checking our phones to track our friends who were running, and then alternately obsessively scanning the crowd to see if we could spot anyone in TNT purple. I am stoked to say that I saw EVERY single person I was trying to spot!!! First up was Rory, who ran with Grandpa's initials on his back. He is amazingly fast and such an inspiration. Rory runs for his dad, who passed away from leukemia in 2002, and I was so grateful he shared his miles with me and my Grandpa. He is amazing. Then I saw Brett and coach Pam within a couple minutes of each other, coach Peter ran by and actually spotted ME first, Herb cruised past, and then coach Dari came running and stopped for some cheers and a hug!

The TNT station was 100% female, so a ton of the male runners were waving, winking, and blowing kisses at us, which was entertaining and hilarious. Ethan Zohn, who won Survivor a few years back and is actually a cancer survivor himself, pointed to us as he ran by, cheering "Go Team!". Stuff like that is pretty awesome. I was also getting a lot of love from the crowd for my sign, which can be viewed below :) A lot of people were running with charities, a lot of people were running for loved ones, and a lot of people were just running to run. Regardless of their reason, I was screaming my ass off for every single one of them. I have no voice left, but it was completely worth it! It was incredibly inspiring and made me really, really excited to run my race in January.

My sign for the NYC marathoners :)

Consistency is the Name of the Game. Apparently so is "Rachel"

Since we'd done two straight Wednesdays of hills, last night we returned to speedwork.This workout was half mile repeats, meaning you run as fast as you can for a half mile, then jog at a very slow pace back to the start - and then do it again 3 more times. The goal is to make your repeats consistent, within 5-10 seconds of the previous rep, getting slightly faster with each one. My usual problem with workouts like this is that I go out too fast and can't hold the speed, whether it's within each repeat (i.e. running the first quarter mile too fast and backing off the second quarter) or getting slower with successive repeats. Last night, however, I was almost dead on with how we're supposed to run these:

• Rep 1 - 4:08
• Rep 2 - 3:55
• Rep 3 - 3:58
• Rep 4 - 3:54

The Rachels, icing our injuries in New Paltz

I not only increased speed throughout the workout in terms of each rep, but I was able to really finish strong and actually increase my speed for the last minute or so EACH TIME! And you will notice that with the exception of the 13 second jump between repeat 1 and 2, we were damn consistent in timing, and to top it off, we ran the last repeat the fastest. So freaking fantastic.

Now, you might be asking, "Who's 'we?'" For the second week in a row, I did my Wednesday workout with Rachel Bliner, a fellow San Diego alum, a fellow Phoenix mentor, and (obviously) a fellow Rachel. (She is also a fellow faller - she wiped out in New Paltz, too). This week, Michael Conlon didn't like that we were running together because in theory that would mean we weren't pushing each other. I know I wasn't holding back, and Rachel B says that I tend to push her anyway, so I think it was actually a pretty dead on workout for both of us.

At the end of the workout, I was really proud of what we'd accomplished. Setting these little mini-goals feels good, and crushing them feels even better. Rachel B told me after last night's workout she's dedicating the song "Defying Gravity" to me. For those of you unfamiliar, it's a song from the musical "Wicked", and listening to it gives you chills. Most of us ladies on the team really love the song, and I actually plan on singing it in my head for the entire Philly half marathon, which I'm running 2 weeks from Sunday. Speaking of the Philly half, I have some major goals for that race, which I'm not going to vocalize because it's a very personal thing. I am really focused on that race right now and I want to really see what I can do with that distance. I feel like if I can crush these small goals, I can work toward the bigger ones. It's a totally different approach to those races than I've taken in the past - I've never actually had a set time goal - so I find it both frightening and motivating, and I can feel the adrenaline pulsing through my veins already. I am PSYCHED.