Reflections on Running 750 Miles

Okay, crappy picture, I know. You can't read the Garmin, but hopefully you can see that the bar at the bottom is completely filled in. Which means I met my goal of running 750 miles in 2012.

I'm a proud lady.

It was a few degrees above freezing when I set out this morning to run the neighborhood loops, but sunny and relatively calm.  I started the Garmin, then covered it up with my outerwear.

Today wasn't about time.

Reflecting on this run, I find that my recall is fragmented . I don't remember if I had to stop for any cars to pass, but I do remember seeing the detritus of Christmas at the curb - overflowing trashcans and over-sized cardboard boxes (some lucky kid got an air hockey table). I don't remember if I saw any one, but I do remember the way the sunlight entered my squinting eyes through my eyelashes - glittering, dazzling.

According to my records, I ran 39 out of 52 Sundays in 2012. And six of the missed Sundays, I ran on Saturday. I ran in North Carolina, Missouri, Virginia, Minnesota, and Georgia and climbed a mountain in Colorado. I ran on trails, greenways, and streets. I ran in sun, wind, and rain, in temperatures ranging from 34° to 95°.

It's no wonder that my recall of these familiar neighborhood loops this morning is fragmented. I know them so well; I've run them alone, quietly, and with friends, chatting. Small particles of my shoes's soles are ground into the pavement.

Small pieces of me are scattered here, too.

Another day, another sunrise

My sublime experience on the way to work - or rather, the timing of it - reminded me of something I had long been meaning to do since moving to North Carolina.

Go watch the sun rise over the ocean.

This time, with pictures.

As a reward for (finally!) finishing painting yesterday evening, I roused myself at five, made some coffee and headed to North Topsail Beach. I timed it almost perfectly. The symphony was just starting as I crested the high rise bridge over the sound onto the island.

 I pulled alongside a few other scattered cars behind the dunes and walked onto the beach.

I took a seat and settled in to watch.

I even got lucky and someone was out working this morning.

The cold bit my cheeks and fingers as the waves roared over the rumble of the boat. Platoons of pelicans soldiered past.

And then, she came.

In all her glory.

And this morning, nearly alone on the beach, it felt like it was just for me.

Richmond Half Marathon Recap

It is 8:13 on a Saturday night and I. am. wore. out.

But it's a special Saturday night, 11/10/12, the third anniversary of my first half marathon - a race in Richmond, VA that I marked with running the same half marathon.

(What a difference three years makes.)

As I write, I am fed up on meat and beer from the local restaurant the Village Steakhouse, my calves are being hugged by my Zensah compression sleeves, and I've got the first of at least two glasses of water next to my left hand to drink before I lay down.

(What one learns in three years.)

Today has been a whirlwind day of perfect awesomeness.

(Even the weather gods smiled kindly three years later.)

 Ladies and gentleman, the course:


This morning was the usual pre-race flurry. Groggily making coffee, choking down a bagel, lacing up and pinning on the bib number. Downtown, at the starting area, we made a last minute pit stop and checked a bag for me to pick up for all of us before I ripped off the top to a Gu and headed towards my starting corral.

Richmond has been labelled "America's Friendliest Marathon" and I have to say, that even from the start, you could feel this vibe. Everyone was happy, the air full of excited chatter, and the volunteers were keeping things running smoothly, the half marathon starting at 7:30 sharp and my B Wave starting exactly 2 minutes later.

The memories flooded in as soon as I started running that straightaway down Broad. Three years ago, the skies were a churning grey, the air heavy with mist, and the winds whipping up bands of spitting rain; runners flung shirts and garbage bags left and right as they warmed up in the first mile. This morning, the sun shone bright, the skies were calm, and no one had need of extra layers.  I was also running with a group paced 20 minutes faster and these people knew what they were doing. I quickly honed in on a woman in a pink shirt and told myself that I would keep her in my sights.

Taking the first right onto Boulevard, we crested a hill over a bridge and then I powered down. Into mile 4, you run down a beautiful split parkway and get to see your fellow runners doubling back. Three years ago, James and I saw my cousin Bridgette as she sped along with some Richmond friends. 

Just before heading into Bryan Park, I remember seeing a beautiful pond, complete with a fountain, and a fading willow tree. Then we hit the Party Zone and the crowd really ramped it up.

While three years ago running through Bryan Park was a chore, this year I welcomed the rolling hills and change of scenery.  I kept powering down the back side of the hills to make up time where I could and tore open my second Gu as I left the park.

Miles 9-13 were an absolute treat. Virtually flat and full of spectators, the last miles were some of my most lucid. It became apparent to me at Mile 10, which I crossed at about 1:25, that a 1:50 finish was not highly likely. But, if I busted my ass, I figured I could pull out a sub-1:53. I was very aware of my pink-shirted rabbit that I was chasing and at mile 11, I threw on my burners and ran past her.

(I was also acutely aware of the Inclusive Racing teams, especially Team Heather and Team Keith, which ran beside me almost the whole time. Those teams were badass.)

It was especially eerie, remember my death shuffle three years ago. A quarter of a mile slog, a few choked tears, some walking and repeat.  Not this year. This year, my last 5K was my fasted 5K.

How about those splits?!?!

A big kudos to the race planners for adding a truly spectacular downhill finish (different from three years ago). Gravity enabled a whole new level of sprinting. :-)

It wasn't 1:50. But 1:52:28 is not too shabby.

Richmond Half Sneak Peak - 1:52:28!

Thoughts before the Tenth

Hard to believe that in less than a week, on the third anniversary of my first, I will run my tenth half marathon in Richmond, Virginia.

This morning I ran my last LSD before the race and it was a beautiful, sun-dappled experience. With Daylight Savings Time ending, I was up with the sun (as were the cats) and ready to go. I went through City of Goldsboro again, admiring the homes and yards in fall, feeling my cheeks pink up with the cold.

I thought a lot about has much has changed over the past three years - especially with regards to my running.

I'm not even sure I ran a LSD the weekend before my first half marathon. My training was extremely spotty that fall. I know I went into that first race in Richmond having never ran more than 10 miles at a single go. And I remember being in a lot of pain both during and after running. I remember a lot of frustration. In retrospect, I came into racing a bit unwillingly. Running had always been a mental and physical release for me. If I got it from running two miles, great. I needed four? Okay. James and Margaret were both more driven by competition. But I found that racing different courses, seeing different things, being a part of something with a bunch of other folks, now that was fun.

I remember how nervous I was; my shin had been giving me a lot of problems (in retrospect, my "training" was a recipe for a shin-splint disaster). I remember watching one runner roll his ankle not even a mile in and another drop his iPod. I remember James having to stop and pee around Mile 3 and him telling me to go on, he would catch up; then, when he did, telling me how many other girls with black capris, long-sleeved white tech shirts, and ponytails there were in the sea of runners.

I remember running through the park around miles 6-9, the unexpected hills and extremely slanted pavement. And I remember Mile 10 and the slow death shuffle that my running became during that last 5K.

I remember the way my body revolted after the race. I couldn't eat. Couldn't nap. My legs, my stomach, my head all felt like lead. 

It's hard to believe now that running 10+ miles on a Sunday morning - rain or shine, hot or cold - is the thing that I look forward to most in my week.

It's taken until this year, 2012, to really feel that way. I've kind of come full circle, too. LSD runs are a balm for my weary soul. If I can just get my feet moving, I know that the rest of my run, my day, will be better.

Sun-drenched

This weekend North Carolina pulled out all the stops.

It was absolutely gorgeous and I not only managed to get pinked by the sun but I'm pretty sure I was drunk off the prettiness of it all.

---

When James first moved to North Carolina, I seriously contemplated joining Teach for America because the town he was moving to was in the middle of their "rural North Carolina" designated area and it seemed like a great way to transition from what I was currently doing. When I was reading the description, I distinctly remember the sentence stating "You will quickly find yourself joining the locals at the Friday night football games."

In the four years I've been here, I've never been to a game. This past Friday, my work sponsored a hot chocolate give-away at the high school just down the road from my house. I didn't have to stay (just bring cups), but I did. The game was pretty bad; the home team got slaughtered (and it was homecoming - ouch), their kickers struggled with their punts, their scrappiest player was their best, their quarterback threw more incompletes than successful passes. But it was such the quintessential Friday Under the Lights that I kind of got caught up in the magic of it all.

The young ones ran amok outside the fence while the high schoolers tumbled around, between, and through each other, not unlike an enormous school of tuna. The stands were full of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. The temperatures quickly dropped, the bleachers grew cold to the touch.

The air was dry, so the night shimmered with that sparkle in the way only chilly fall evenings under bright lights can.

--

The next morning was clear, bright, and chilly. James's schedule called for an eight mile run and since I hadn't run since Tuesday and was myself due for 5, we ran a tempo run together. A little over two miles to warm up, followed by 5 at a 9:00/mile pace, and a mile to cool down.

We ran past the church across the street where the whoops and hollers from the small back field signaled the opening day of flag football for the five year-olds. My coworker heads up this organization and he told me to stop by - "Getting these kiddos to play flag-football is like herding cats."

After the run, we joined our neighbors under the blue skies to work in the yard - covering the pool, trimming trees and bushes, cleaning gutters. I'd be lying if I didn't say it was bittersweet.

But it was also beautiful.

---

Morning came fast. David and James were scheduled a 15-miler and had planned to head to base around 7:30. When 7 am came, I swam up from the depths of a deep sleep and declined joining them; there was no way I'd be firing all circuits within 30 minutes.  By 8 am, after a small breakfast and some water, I was ready to go.

Alone for my long run, I opted for some old stomping grounds.

When James and I first started running in North Carolina, we did a small 3-4 mile loop out our apartment door and back. As I grew to know the area through my incessant Google Map use at my job, I added an adjoining neighborhood. Then James's old coworker Margaret joined us and we would run from her downtown loft apartment in a loop. This morning, I mish-mashed them together, really appreciating my Garmin watch and my own understanding of the area to let me wander as I needed to get to ten miles.

I'm not going to lie. Doing back-to-back long runs in a weekend whooped my tail. I am sore. And since I'm sore today, I shudder to think how I'm going to feel tomorrow.

But that's what coffee is for, right?

---

After a breakfast at IHOP, James and I showered and headed down to the once-capitol of North Carolina New Bern for the Mum Festival. It wasn't so much that the festival promised to be something amazing, but the weather was truly spectacular. So without further ado....

Autumnal Weekend

Finally. After a trying week of North Carolina weather - with temps hitting 87° on Tuesday and Wednesday - my efforts slogging through the runs in unseasonably hot, humid nights was rewarded with a beautiful fall weekend.

I ran The Usual 4 on Friday night, and James and I ate supper and went to bed early. Saturday morning we got up in the predawn darkness to drive to Athens, Georgia.

--

In a few weeks, James will be beginning a position with James Greenhouses and our lives in North Carolina will draw to an unexpected close. As with so many things this year, I am startled by my wildly oscillating feelings. I am proud, nervous, hopeful, doubting, terrified, sad, and confused.

(Is this what happens as you grow older?)

Dear family and friends, please do not fret - this oft-wandering soul seems to just be struggling with the fact that she unknowingly began putting down roots.

Lucky for me, I have running shoes. And running is a wonderful balm for a weary soul.

--

We managed to conduct our business quickly and decided to return to North Carolina last night so we could tackle our LSD runs this morning. James was due for another 20 mile run and two circuits in the neighborhoods seemed the easiest way to tackle this. After running the first half, he popped in for some Gatorade, a GU, and me.

We ran the loops again, in blissfully chilly winds and under overcast skies. Despite some knee pain, James soldiered on and finished his 20; I felt so good I decided to add a few more loops - why not run a half marathon on this first truly autumnal day?

I am very encouraged by my 9:25/mile average moving pace and even more so by clocking my last four miles at negative splits down to 9:08. I am not sore. I was not taxed during those miles. Richmond will not get the best of me this year.

Half Marathon Training Check-in

As hinted a few posts ago, this fall has been tumultuous, which is part of the reason I haven't been writing a whole lot. But this is not a post about that.

The other part is that this time around, I have so much more experience and so many more tools to help make this training successful.

However, I thought it might be helpful to do a check-in at the halfway point of my training for the Richmond Half Marathon.

I have been less than perfect with following this plan...but have also surprised myself with my dedication to speedwork.

And I have been surprised with how well I've performed during my speedwork! Last week I clocked a 6:51/pace for one of my sprints. Didn't think I had it in me...

I've been toying with the idea of signing up for a pace group this time around. I'm waffling because on the one hand, I'm excited about making this goal, but on the other hand there's a small part of me that worries I won't get the same race experience. That my senses will be distracted by the other people in the group. Racing has always been about the minutes between start and finish for me...setting goals for exactly how many minutes it will take just makes it interesting.

I don't want to lose that heightened and yet blurred sense of time, where sounds are more layered, sights sharper, and feelings more visceral.

All that I do know

First and foremost, here is a huge shout out to my mother-in-law Cathy upon her completion of the Quad Cities Marathon today. Even though I was not there, thanks to her use of Endomondo, I was able to follow along and track her run.

I know that today's technology can be amazing. The site refreshes about every minute and it was so neat to be able to see how she was doing. Even cooler was the ability to send her Peptelk text-to-voice messages along the way. I have no idea if they helped or not...but it certainly kept me from biting my nails off. So proud of you, lady!

Last weekend I went to visit a dear friend in Minneapolis for a 48 hour escape to the big city. We wined, we dined; we walked, we talked. And I ran.

Despite having only slept six hours and drank far too much wine, I dragged myself along the first three miles of this gorgeous 9.25 loop. And I am so glad I did. I know that running in new places is always an eye-opener. Lakes Harriet and Calhoun are surrounded by some of the most beautiful homes, restaurants, and shops and the parallel bike and running paths were chock full of runners, cyclists, and strolling families or families-to-be. So many gaggles of pregnant ladies.

This morning, I ran with Glenna, treading the very familiar loops of the Pinewood-Bayleaf-Hunter's Creek-Mimosa Park neighborhoods. The air was cool, the sky blue, and the conversation stimulating. I know that I will not solve my problems while running, but damn does it feel good to work out the kinks while moving my legs. 2012 has been a weird one, but very instructive - living in the moment has never had more meaning than now.

In other news, this morning's run put me within spitting distance of 500 miles - I might just have to go out for a walk tonight to get there.

All that I do not know

Many moons ago, somewhere before or just after the turning of the year, I talked about how I felt 2012 was going to be a most auspicious year.

Thus far, 2012 has been peppered with moments of amazingness.

Installing beautiful bamboo floors with a lot of help from some wonderful friends.

Running a sub-2 hour half marathon in hilly Raleigh.

Climbing Buffalo Mountain in Silverthorne, Colorado with family.

Celebrating three years of marriage with an amazing bottle of wine.

But 2012 has also handed out some doozies.

In the spring, I learned that sometime this fall I will be an aunt. I have been taken by surprise how this news has held me captive. The many feelings and faults it has made visible. The many ways it has challenged my understanding of my self and my relationships.

In the early summer, some changes were made at work that required scrambling and spawned one too many of those 2 am panic attacks that rip you from your sleep.

Fall is coming early to North Carolina and my business continues to struggle. Tensions are running high.

The older I get, the more I realize how much I do not know.

And I'm learning to be okay with that fact.

Speed Drills

Yesterday was Day 3 of Week 1 of my training plan for the Richmond Half Marathon.

It called for speed work - 5 x 400 @ 5K pace (7:50 min/mi avg for me).

And I nailed it.

A first

A running first at that.

Yesterday, after a couple of false starts, James and I ran a good chunk of the Capitol Greenway in Raleigh.

In the rain. In the pouring down rain.

Surprisingly, it wasn't half bad. Our spirits were pretty high, despite the leaden shoes, pruned fingers, and rat's nest of a ponytail I finished with.

It was breezy and warm and the rain was cool. We chatted about the past three years of running - remembering our lowest moments and our breakthroughs - and talked about those to come. James is officially in training for the Richmond Marathon on November 10th and after a lot of debate, I've decided to run the half.

It will be my tenth half marathon and I'll run the course on which I ran my first.

I've got a really lofty goal for this one.

I'm terrified of typing it because I'm afraid the moment I do, the procrastinating will begin.

The Summer That Slipped By

It's July 21st? What?

As the media reports, America is caught in a heat wave - especially in the Midwest - but the mid-to-upper 90s for North Carolina is pretty par for the course.

But combine that with the regular storms that are rolling through, and the hours for running after work slip away before I can even realize it.

James and I are trying to enjoy ourselves in other ways, this summer. We feel we found a bit of a gem with the North Carolina Museum of Art's concert series and enjoyed both Andrew Bird and Neko Case in one week.

Sometimes we feel isolated, in the small Eastern NC town we live in. We get sucked into the 7-5 grind of work, eat, and sleep; and despite the longer hours of sun, the summer heat sometimes makes it worse. But finding some cool grass to dig your toes into, a good bottle of wine to share...

 and some good music to listen to...it goes a long way.

Even better, a week from today, James and I head west to Summit County Colorado for some much needed time with my dad's family, the beautiful mountains, and some hard playing in the form of hiking, water water rafting, bicycling, and rowdy dinners with good food and drink. I look forward to being exhausted every night.

But I'm craving this getaway the way in more ways than one.

I have some peace to make there up among the rocks.

Summer makes an even bigger procrastinator out of me

Dinners, concerts, days by the pool, and runs in all kinds of weather....

Watermelon Salad with Goat Cheese, Pickled Jalepenos, and Crushed Pistachios

Waiting for Andrew Bird

Listening to Mavis Staples, dry

Watching the threatening clouds

Andrew Bird, rocking out

Listening to Andrew Bird, wet

I'm back!

Make no mistake - time has still not corrected itself in my brain; tonight does not feel like Friday night, nor does today feel like the penultimate day of June, but somewhere in the last week, my universe has tilted itself back onto its axis. It started with a trip home and some bird watching.

Two weeks ago my folks were so kind to fly James and I home for Father's Day weekend. We caught a flight from Raleigh Friday evening; Saturday morning found us drinking coffee around my parents kitchen table and admiring the frenzy of activity at their new birdfeeder.

Stan Tekiela has produced some great field guides, including the Birds of Missouri Field Guide that my father had purchased. That morning, he recited the different sightings from his checklist and we discussed the fascinating habits of different birds - the chickadees, sparrows, cardinals, grackles, house finches, and blue jays. While James and I are no strangers to these birds - we had dabbled in birding in Southern Illinois, which has the same profile as St. Louis - my father was in the middle of telling us that a blue jay's feathers are not actually blue when a red-bellied woodpecker alighted upon the feeder. Not unlike this picture:

Woodpeckers are my favorite birds to try and sight while in the woods. They have a very distinctive call which you can hear long before you ever - if you are lucky - spot it. It was pretty nifty, seeing that big bugger (9" tall!) fly out of the woods to on the feeder, scattering the chickadees and sparrows left and right. My father joyously checked that box off the list in the back of the book.

The book is organized by color, so if you see a bird, you can thumb to the pages and quickly scan to (hopefully) identify the bird before it flies away. One bird that we all agreed we'd love to see is the male Indigo Bunting - a small song bird with rich blue coloring.

The rest of that day was the perfect reprieve from the oscillating emotions and racing thoughts that has colored the last several weeks and that night, it stormed. I slept deeply and did not dream.

------

I've written before about my love of running in Queeny Park; that Sunday morning I headed out to wander the hills and trails with no specific mileage in mind. Queeny was thick with vegetation and as the sun heated up the meadows and woods, the steam rose and with it the smell of damp earth, rotting leaves, and sweet honeysuckle.

As I rounded the reclaimed wildflower meadow, there, swaying atop the heavy bud of a thistle flower was the male Indigo Bunting.

Turns out that he, too, like the blue jay does not actually have blue pigmentation in his feather. "Their jewel-like color comes instead from microscopic structures in the feathers that refract and reflect blue light, much like the airborne particles that cause the sky to look blue."

Pretty cool trick for a little songbird.

RunRaleigh Half Marathon

Year of Firsts: run a sub-2 hour race in Raleigh, CHECK!

Before I get into a race recap, let me start by saying that I am terrifically happy that I both a) ran with James and b) started and stopped by Garmin as I was going through the chutes. I say this because:

Do you see what I see? My chip and clock time registered as the same. Since I'm not crazy and was not toeing the actual start line, this can't possibly be right. James and I ran the whole thing together and crossed almost simultaneously, so my chip time should be -/+ 1-3 seconds of his. So, since I was actually diligent enough with my own GPS timing system:

I officially claim 1:59:57.

The course the folks at Capital RunWalk selected for this inaugural race was absolutely phenomenal. Raleigh is hilly and, as I've experience previously, the route the directors select can maximize or minimize the pain that they can inflict upon racers. Luckily for us, the latter was served up today.

As you can see, it trended downhill on the front and uphill on the back, but on the whole, it was a series of small hills (up, then down), which was a lovely trick on the body. We also got to run along Walnut Creek Trail of the Capital Area Greenway. (A place I will definitely visit again!)

I went out too fast and paid for it later; but having James run with me was definitely a huge help, especially during those last few miles. My original goal was to a) run the whole thing without stopping (something I had not been able to do at either Raleigh Rocks or City of Oaks) and b) run a 2:05 (decreasing my previous Raleigh race times by 5 minutes). Going into the final 5K at under 1:30, I turned to James and said, "Unless I totally bonk, I've got another sub-2 in the bag." He wisely said, "You mean, as long as there are no unforeseen monster hills?"

The entire race I had been fairly conservative with the uphills - shortening my strides, pumping my arms, and focusing on not stopping - but pretty aggressive with the downhills, and as the race went on, I knew my quads were going to be trashed at the end. Nevertheless, I kept tackling the hills one at a time. But there, at the start of the last mile, was the doozy. In a mere quarter of a mile, we gained nearly 100 feet of elevation. When I realized that I could walk faster than I could run, James and I slowed up and used the opportunity to stretch out our legs.

Coming into the straightaway - blessedly, downhill! - I had just about a minute left. I used gravity to my advantage and just let 'er rip!

1:59:57. I'll take it.

Awesome course, awesome day.