Miles 200-213: Williamsburg Run for the Dream Half Marathon

Yesterday morning, in Williamsburg, Virginia, I ran my fifth half marathon.

For this recap, I'm going to start at the end: I finished in 2:15:23, at a 10:20 pace, 135th out of 284 for my age group (20-29) and 1145th out of 2050 total finishers.

Certainly not a PR, but considering that the race day weather conditions were very similar (if not worse) than the April St. Louis experience I am extremely pleased. We started the race at 69° at 83% humidity and finished at 77° and 69% humidity.

So it was hot. Despite the heat, I actually felt great for the first 9 miles. It was also hard to not feel great, because this race is by far the most beautiful course I have ever run.  As you can see, they took us from the campus of the College of William & Mary, through historic Williamsburg, and out to a scenic overlook of the James River. I should have known that the gently sloping downhills on the front side allowing me to run at a good clip would come back to haunt me, though.



See how the flipside of the race beat me up? The timing and cadence charts show where the uphills forced me to a crawl, then a walk.

On the whole, with a couple of minor exceptions, it was also one of the best planned and best staffed races I have ever run. With water and Gatorade at pretty much every mile, and family and volunteers cheering us all along the way, lack of support was not the reason that I bonked. I bonked because I slacked off my training at the most crucial time (the last two weeks) and I was in no way prepared for the hills. And definitely not the heat.

I'm not going to lie. It was a bit of a blow to my ego, having run my first three races at 2:10.  But having the privilege of running a race in a beautiful place (which I learned days before going was one of my recently passed grandmother's favorites) with James by my side.

Yes, James ran by me the whole time, and helped first by keeping pace in the front half when I was feeling strong, and then consoled me when my legs just wouldn't go on in the back half.

One of the neatest components of this race was the finish (though at the time, I was so spent, I was cursing them under my breath). As you came back onto campus, the volunteers directed you through a chute, where those who had already finished waited, leaning over barricades, cheering you on, and out onto the track. The announcer called out the names of those finishing and yards from the line, I reached for James's hand. "You want to finish this hand-in-hand?" I wordlessly nodded.

So we did.

Miles 200-213: 145 minutes of joy, pain, awe, frustration, and love. So much love.

Prelude to Another Half Marathon

Tomorrow morning James and I will run the Run for the Dream Half Marathon in Williamsburg.

As with so much in life, training has once again not gone as planned.

The beauty of this particular instance is that since we ran our first half marathon a year and a half ago, this will be the first we run together.

See, my competitive husband doesn't want to run the race as a "race" because if he runs slower than his previous time, he fails. But if he runs with his much slower wife? Win for him, win for me.

Check back tomorrow for the race recap!

Miles 195-199: Saying Farewell with Hands Held High

On Friday, just past noon, my grandmother passed peacefully from this world.

On Saturday, James and I went home to spend time grieving and celebrating with my family. Saturday and Sunday were appropriately chilly, rainy, and misty and we all huddled inside, taking comfort in each other, our conversations and memories, and good food and drink.

On Monday, the sun finally came out and we headed to my first running haunt, Queeny Park. It felt good to be there, running those familiar paths, letting my mind completely go, letting my feet carry us along the five mile circuit. James knew talking was not necessary and we ran without stopping, lightly and nimbly.

On Tuesday, we gathered to bid our final farewells, my father opening the funeral mass with this beautiful introduction:

My name is Mike Macauley and it is an honor to welcome you to this celebration of both life and of love.

Several weeks ago, my wife Janet and my daughters Erin & Emily participated in and completed the St. Louis Half Marathon. The race was difficult at times, especially toward the end, but they completed the race and crossed the finish line with hands joined and raised high because it was an endeavor worth celebrating.

Today we recognize another race well run. Mom completed life's race in grand fashion and we now celebrate her victory. Throughout her race mom exhibited great determination. Through it all she was at many times graceful, though when necessary she was also gritty, especially when the running was most difficult. But mostly, she swept many others along with her in a wave of love, tender care, and dedicated friendship.

And so, therefore, we wish to thank you for being with her as she ran and we thank you for being here, at the finish line, to honor her victory and to send her off with the recognition that a true champion deserves.

Miles 195-199: 48 minutes joyously meditating on family, home, and love.

Ben Woodbeck on Running

In the June 2011 edition of Trail Runner magazine, Ben Woobeck recounts pacing his wife Diana Finkel in the Hardrock 100, the most notoriously difficult trail ultramarathon. After nearly winning, Diana placed second, broke the women's record, and suffered acute kidney failure the next day.  In the closing of his article, he writes:

 "Asking about running is just another way to wonder, what is it for? Just as ineffable as why one would climb a mountain, or kayak a river, or jump from an airplane, I guess. Running makes life more worthwhile, maybe. It gives a little definition outside the confines and strictures of work and family. It offers a community, one in which we can be individuals, ourselves, sometimes our best selves. It reminds us what is important, somehow, even if it does so by reminding us that running is not really that important. Relationships are important; another truth that we know but sometimes forget."

Miles 191-194: Spacially Challenged

Those who interact with me on a daily basis know that for a fairly active person, I can be terribly clumsy. Or rather, I'm a bit spacially challenged.  Doorways, counters, doorknobs, dressers, stairs, steps, puddles - you name it, chances are I've miscalculated my body in space and ran, stepped, walked, or slammed hips, feet, shoulders, and wrists into them.

Today, I add mailboxes to that list.

Thankfully, it wasn't actually part of my body that was slammed into the mailbox during today's run, but rather my iPod. Somehow I managed to loop my headphone cord around the tab on the mailbox door, thus yanking headphones from ears and iPod from armband.

I wish I could blame my mishap on the emotional fog that I've been in for the past few days, but no, this is 100% bonafide Erin.

Aside from this thirty second blip, I am happy to report the run was an uneventful success.

Miles 191-194: 34ish minutes adding freckles to my arms and a new item to the Objects Assaulted by Erin list.

Tribute (I know, I'm getting sappy)

My Maw Maw, Jacqueline Combs Macauley

I just looked through my wedding album and realized that this picture was not a part of the selected images.

Well, Maw Maw, you may have not made the book, but you're making the blog.

And if you're wondering, yes, she really does look upon anyone she's talking to with that level of attention and sweet interest.

I love you, Maw Maw. Really, really, really.

Miles 184-190: Long Distance Run, Truncated

Yesterday started out overcast, chilly, and rainy, but by afternoon the sun had broken up the clouds and it turned out to be a pretty nice day for a run.

I enjoyed breakfast while talking with my mom. We had a good laugh over her Mother's Day card (of the "Who needs chocolate and flowers when we have alcohol?" sentiment) and she gave me the family news run-down. Unfortunately, it was not the best update (my paternal grandmother has been brought home to be cared for by hospice nurses) but this eventuality was one I had been expecting for a while now.

Even still, I had a bit of a heavy heart all day and the physical aches from Saturday's booth-staffing session at a local festival didn't exactly help. I sat and half-watched TV for a good part of the afternoon while James tuned our cars and watched English Premiere League soccer, but  mostly I was thinking about how happy I am that I saw my grandmother when I was in town last, for the St. Louis Half Marathon.

She's a feisty lady, my 90-lb Maw Maw. She's the original over-gesticulating, animated storyteller and each of her daughters and granddaughters have followed suit. She likes her hats, her flowers, her cigarettes, and her cute men. She's an avid fan of kisses and hugs and she has loved us all so well, and I have been so blessed to have her around for so long.

We ran one of our normal routes backwards, so we could cut it short when we needed to. The air held the smells of charcoal, grass, and sun, and I threw a prayer skyward again for the wonderful spring we've had. Last year at this time, Eastern NC was already in its fifth week of 80-90 degree temperatures and the yards were shriveled and brown.

To be honest, I don't really remember the run, except that my legs felt very heavy during the last two miles, which I chalked up to dehydration from Saturday. All in all, though the splits were respectable:

1	9:05
2	9:07
3	9:05
4	9:27
5	9:28
6	9:30
7	9:45

Miles 184-190: 66 minutes running to forget, running to remember.

Miles 180.5-183: Three for Speed

I can't believe I'm going to write this, least of all on a Friday, but I think I might be starting to like the treadmill.

I know - wtf? Allow me to clarify.

Another spring storm rolled in this afternoon, foiling plans for a six-miler Friday Freedom Run. I could take my chances and wait for the storm to pass, but - let's be realistic - if I waited to run, I would inevitably find an alcoholic beverage of some sort to drink while reading Infinite Jest or Runner's World magazine and maybe James and I would chat a bit and have a bite to eat and next thing you know, it's 9 pm and dark outside and the idea of a run is running itself right out of my head.

So. To the gym.

After my recent success with treadill mile repeats and Tuesday's fast four-miler, I headed back to the machine with plans to run 3 - possibly 4 - x 1 mile sprints. Playing it safe, I ran Mile 1 at last week's 7.0 mph after a quick .15 mile brisk walk. Feeling great, after a .10 mile break, I ramped it up to 7.5 mph (8 min/mile) for Mile 2. Mile 3, I held at 7.5 mph, until the last two-tenths of a mile, which I jacked up to 8.0 mph (7:30 min/mile).

At this point, the left shin started to twinge; to not derail this Sunday's scheduled distance run of 10-11 miles, I (dare I say wistfully?) opted to not run a fourth mile.

To say the least, I'm elated. If I can continue to make progress with mile repeats on the treadmill, I might have to take back every nasty thing I ever said about it.

Miles 180.5-183: learning how to make the machine work for me.

Miles 177.5-180.5:

Today the temperatures dropped back into the 60s after a brief storm blew through.

Consquently, I had an awesome run.

When I got home and on Facebook, a friend posted a video that was made with one of my favorite Fleet Foxes songs. It's a terribly appropriate song.

Though it does make me long for the mountains.

Just in case you didn't watch it before:



Miles 177.5-180.5: 4 miles at a speedy 34 minutes.

Are We Crazy Enough to Do This?

My friend Glenna came up with the awesome idea that we should run the Warrior Dash coming to Huntersville in August.

You decide.

Shocks and Prayers

I woke to everyone celebrating the death of Osama Bin Laden; I arrived at work to find the office celebrating the life of one of our coworkers.

He was spared from death in the motorcycle accident, but he lays in the hospital ICU with - among other things - two broken hips and one leg amputated below the knee.

I can't help but think about how his and his family's whole world has just changed. I have been fighting off queasiness all day.

That could be me, there in that hospital. That could be you.

Miles 172-176.5: Company Mill Trail

Today's visit to Raleigh's Umstead Park made this weekend's runs two for two on the awesome scale.

Ridiculously happy in the sunny parking lot.

We arrived just after lunch to tackle the Company Mill Trail. Readers, I geekily present you with James's Garmin stats from our run.

James and I actually hiked this path once before, many moons ago, before I lived in North Carolina. It's delightfully hilly and wooded and reminds me of the rise and fall of the bluff country that is St. Louis county. A few more pine trees than you would find back home, but otherwise heart-warmingly similar.

As with our previous run in Umstead, we were gleeful and practically frolicking like children. My feet were singing, so happy have something to trod upon that was not pavement. Like the Loblolly trail (and as the graph and map indicate), CMT also wound through the woods, complete with dips and swells, roots and rocks, wooden bridges and pineneedle carpets. As with before, I marvelled at James's natural talent, especially on the steep, technical ascents that left me winded.

(I have no trouble ascribing to the ultra-marathoner's creed that if you can't see the top, you can walk. Or my own creed that if I can walk it as fast as I can run it, I best walk it.)

I know that trail running is inevitably slower than road racing, however, I was still surprised with the pace stats because - especially on the downhills - it felt like we were flying.

Miles 172-176.5: An hour of fun, playing in the woods.