Sunday, December 7, 2008
We carbo loaded last night at PF Chang's. I think I was pretty nervous because the dinner felt like a rock in my stomach as we were eating. This morning, I was definitely nervous before the run, as evidenced by 4 trips to the restroom before leaving the house (is this too much information? Sorry.). On my way out, I told Robert that I wasn't sure if I was feeling bad because I was nervous, or because of the dinner last night. "It's nerves," he grumbled, in a half-asleep state, "go out and run." So I did.
The run was pretty good! We had our Garmins with us (Shelly's ran out of batteries halfway through), our new packs of Clif Shot Blox (we're trying those instead of Sports Beans for variety), and good attitudes. We ran past the 6-mile mark on the Scenic Loop into uncharted territory. Our plan was to run 7.5 miles out and then turn around. There were some ridiculous new hills, including one incline that lasted almost a mile. As we came closer to the 7.5 mile mark, we saw a busy intersection ahead. Having passed our turnaround point, we ran up to the intersection just to see what road it was. We'd reached the Boerne Stage Road; the Scenic Loop Cafe was in front of us! I couldn't believe we'd run all the way to the Scenic Loop Cafe. We turned around and headed back.
The second half of the run passed by uneventfully, except for Shelly getting a rock in her shoe (as usual) and spilling a river of snot out her nose when she bent over to take off her shoe (again, TMI? Sorry.). Luckily, we had some Kleenex (and something to laugh about for a couple of minutes).
As we approached mile 12, we were running down a hill. We saw a cyclist at the bottom of the hill, and discussed whether we should move into the middle of the road so that he could proceed up the hill without having to swerve around us. As we came closer, I realized that we knew him...the cyclist was Robert! It was so cool to see him! He'd decided to surprise me and also get a workout in. I think seeing him gave me the energy to finish the run.
When we got to mile 13.1, we exclaimed that we'd just run a half-marathon, and every step beyond would be further than we'd ever run before. Although we ran into a little trouble with having a low supply of water, we finished the run happily and walked like grandmas into Roger Soler's Sports to buy a drink.
Hooray! Eight more runs, each one longer than the last, to go! (Not really, but it sounds impressive, doesn't it?) 16 miles next week.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
So now it's time to really get training for the marathon. *eek*
The big news is that Shelly entered a contest and won ... and the prize was a paid entry into the New Orleans Mardi Gras Marathon in February 2009! So we thanked our lucky stars that we hadn't already signed up for the Austin Marathon, adjusted our training schedule for a race that is two weeks earlier than we'd planned, and booked a hotel in New Orleans for February.
Laizzez les bon temps rouler!
Having said that, I have to say that today's run with the Garmin was luxurious! Guessing about our pace? A thing of the past. Estimating how much further we had to run to reach our 6-mile goal today? Don't be ridiculous. I have that information right here on my wrist! Wondering if we're running too fast? Nope, let me check the Garmin...it says we're right on track for our goal pace.
It was so super cool! I love my new gadget. It's the perfect running companion for someone who wants to be precise about distance measurements! Go Garmin! And thank you, Robert, for the perfect present.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Today was our first long run of the training program. We ran 9 miles on Scenic Loop Road at 7:30 this morning. Last week's "long" run was a 5 miler; the last time I ran 9 miles was up a mountain at Reach the Beach 6 weeks ago. I didn't sleep so well last night - I guess I was a little nervous about this run.
We had an amazing run. I mean, it was an amazing run. I don't even know how else to describe it! We ran 5 miles out and 4 miles back, and then walked the last mile back to our cars.
The first half felt like a normal, everyday long run. As usual, the first couple of miles were weird until I got into a rhythm. Then it felt fine. We trotted along, chatting and laughing, enjoying the 55 degree weather (Lesson Learned: Do not wear long sleeves when it's 55 degrees outside. You will get hot after 7 minutes).
At mile 4 we started eating our first pack of sports beans and began to ascend The Hill, a mile-long hill that just seems to keep going and going. We hammered up it and then turned around to head back. Shelly struggled a bit, so we walked for about 30 seconds on our way back down.
But then... the run turned AMAZING! The second half of the run felt like a breeze. We were flying back towards the start. We even passed some roadkill (two runners and an actual dead animal). Both of us felt incredible for the 4 miles back to the cars. I felt like I was floating along in my fabulous, new, pillowy-cloud shoes (Asics Gel Kayanos).
I don't even know what happened, but I hope every long run feels like that. Last week's run was fantastic too. I guess Shelly and I have gotten into really good shape somewhere along the way. The cooler weather probably has something to do with it too. Hooray for a fantastic long run! Shelly, how about another high five!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
It's good that I had that conversation with him. Reach the Beach is an incredibly difficult event. You run the equivalent of a half-marathon or more on virtually no sleep. You can't stretch out or cool down after your runs are over, because you have to jump in the van and head off to meet the next runner. You get crammed in a van with 5 or 6 of your closest friends (or people you've never met before) and try to behave like civilized humans while getting no sleep and taking baby-wipe baths to (try to) stay clean. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it's cold, and sometimes you run through blazing heat. You run afraid for your life (of moose, drunk drivers, and the Blair witch) on the middle-of-the-night legs, which are up to nine miles long.
But... it's so much fun! First of all, you get to casually tell all your friends, "I'm running in a 200-mile relay." And you burst with pride as their jaws drop in shock and awe. That's in the months leading up to the race. You train and get your body into great shape during the hottest months of the year, and get to be amazed at your own stamina and determination as you reach new heights of training.
Where else would you get to hang around talking about nothing but running for two days straight with people who know what you're talking about and actually enjoy talking with you about it? It's so much fun to chat with your teammates about the racing plans they have for the fall and the best training plans to follow.
For two days, you get to ride around in a van and act like a child, singing songs (The Final Countdown, anyone?), yelling out the windows, and laughing hysterically. You get to blame your ridiculous, juvenile behavior on sleep deprivation. It's great!
And in between the silly antics, you get to talk with your new closest friends about serious matters like work challenges, marriage issues, and the frustrations of trying to get pregnant. The camaraderie of RTB is definitely the thing that brought me back this year.
Robert, will you remind me again why I said I wouldn't do it next year?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
What I didn't expect is that this race would bring me closer to my husband. Of course we were close physically - he was the driver of our van, so we stayed an arm's length apart for 33 hours, except for the times that I was out running. Emotionally I felt closer to him, too.
On my first leg of the relay, as I struggled up 5 miles of hills that seemed endless, I got bored and decided to start singing. I started with the anthem "I Will Survive," and then somehow segued into my favorite love song, Ben Folds' "The Luckiest." If you know the song, you know it isn't exactly the most energetic, kick-inspiring song. But I sang that song out loud for the last mile and a half of my run, thinking of Robert, who would be meeting me at the finish line. That song always makes me cry, and this time it was no different. (Note: It's kind of hard to run up a mountain while you're crying.)
There were some conversations Robert and I had during the 33 hours of the race that we probably wouldn't have had in "real life." The emotions that strenuous exercise and sleep deprivation bring out create some interesting subject matter. Although it was difficult to run for that many hours on almost no sleep, the experience was made so much richer for me because of the time I was able to spend with my amazing, supportive, loving husband.
Thank you for volunteering to drive the van, Robert. I really am The Luckiest.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
4 - Days until we leave for New Hampshire (at 6:45 a.m. CST)
3 - Days in my work-week this week
2 - People who will be accompanying me on the trip
(one running buddy (Shelly) and one husband/van driver (Robert))
1 - Year that I've been counting down to this trip
(since we got home from the last one)
Hooray, hooray, Reach the Beach is here and I can barely contain my excitement!
I have a score to settle with the San Antonio Half Marathon. In 2005, I ran the (Half) Marathon of the
And as I began to smile and wave at my adoring fans, the winner of the marathon breezed past me and crossed the finish line. That’s right, the marathon winner ran 26.2 miles in the time it took me to pound out 13.1 (two hours and 36 minutes). If you want proof, you can see me in the background of the marathon winner’s finish-line photo in the San Antonio Express-News.
It took me two years to muster up the courage to attempt the half-marathon distance again. But, still intimidated by the idea of racing 13.1 in
When I heard that the Rock ‘n’ Roll race was coming to
I pledge that this year, with months of base-building, speed work, hill training, and long runs behind me, fantastic bands on the course, and a supportive running buddy at my side, I will finish the San Antonio Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon with a smile on my face (hopefully, at least a few minutes before the marathon winner crosses the finish line).