Blow it Big

It was not my day, but it was not the end of the world, either.

And, more importantly, it was a GREAT day for many of my teammates!

The plan was to run a 3:25, but if you're gonna blow it, you might as well blow it big. I'd call twelve minutes big.

I was on plan at the half, but by mile 15 the wheels had come off. Sciatic pain shot up and down my right leg, settled into my knee area, then settled itself back down in a few miles. But by then my legs had lost all their turnover. My quads and hamstrings pretty much seized and decided they would not go any faster. I tried a strategy to increase my turnover during the times when the discomfort seemed to fade, but it came back each time.

It's a blur from about 15 miles where the 3:30 group passed me to where I caught up with the Dan-O at about mile 21 or 22. Together we hung on. Dan-O was sending all his "good vibrations from the behind" to his brother Mark, who Dan hoped had qualified for Boston. I still don't know how Mark did.

We came upon Rogue Derek in the late miles and he was truly suffering. I tried to get him to go with us, and he did for a short while, but he faded. A short way ahead of me I saw the very distinctive blonde pony tail swinging that could only mean that Julia was having a good day. She looked very strong. Then Michael passed us and I was able to eek out a "Go Michael" but he didn't know it was me until I visited with him in the hotel lobby later.

The Dan-O and I held on and turned the left turn and I was wondering, "God, aren't we there yet?", but the finish line appeared and I said to Dan "there it is!". Just then I saw that I had to go left into the women's chute. I was on Dan's right so there was some maneuvering before could give each other a final high-five and farewell, and it was on to our respective finish lines.

I haven't checked my finish time online as yet, but my watch says 3:37:21. I'm looking forward to comparing notes with the Dan-O.

As I write this a few other notable moments come to mind. The bus ride was quite pleasant, with Erin, breakfast Jon, Derek, Nedra, and Christine. There were several other Austin folks on our bus, too. Robert and Trevor, Paul and Lauren, Danny, James, the Salazars, Andy and Jennifer, Fred and Patrick, and Gazelles Renee and Lisa.

I had a nice visit with Danny along the course because he was doing his come from behind thing so he can visit with folks along the way. Nedra passed me with the 3:30 group and expressed very kind concern for my welfare. It was great to see our coaches Steve and Ruth along the course, but it was hard to face them when, by 19 miles, I had fallen so far off my plan. It was great to see other familiar faces too, like Mandy, Trey, Dennis, and Chris.

It will take a few days to process the rest of the ordeal. But for now it's on to my honeymoon!

Taper Madness

It's less than a week before the race, and it happens every time. Sometimes it holds itself off until I'm actually at the starting line. But it's already started.

The self doubt. The amnesia. The anxiety.

Have I done the work? Has my fitness survived the last two weeks? What's with this new ache, this new pain? Is that a rash? Why does my head hurt? I just sneezed. I'm a little warm; could it be a fever? I'm a little cold; could it be a fever?

Finally, the Pace Run

This morning at breakfast, John reminded me that I need to update my blog. Today's run gave me some material.

Today we ran our first pace run: 3 X 5 miles at MGP with a short rest in between each loop and a 4-mile warm up and cool down.

I've been worrying that we've done what seems to be so little work at sustained pace. Steve has made up some punishing long-run workouts like Soul Builder I and Soul Builder II, but I can't recall any race pace work since we started the speed phase, so I looked forward to today's run.

The weather was perfect. We ran a 5-mile loop in Travis Country three times.

I started out with Nedra, Christine, John (UT Tennis John, not breakfast John), Katie, Brenda, Julia, Michael, and Dave. If there's a way to mess up a loop, we did it, and missed a turn to cut off the first mile or so. We took some heckling, but we made up the mile at the end of the first loop and got the directions figured out for the second loop.

Christine was soon way off the front and Nedra and I ran together. Nedra is trying to break the elusive 3:30, and I'm trying to PR with a 3:25. To hit that, my race pace needs to average 7:48/mile. A few weeks ago I struggled in Soul Builder II to the point that my coach suggested that I reassess my finishing goal. I'm still not quite ready to do that, and today was my test to help me decide.

I used my watch and the mile markers Ruth had set out to figure my pace. Nedra used her Garmin, or whatever contraption that was on her wrist that kept beeping several yards after we'd passed a cone. Here are my paces for loops 2 and 3:

7:39, 7:24, 7:31, 8:03, 8:10
7:52, 7:23, 7:31, 8:07, 8:00

And by my watch,loop 1 took 44:20 with the rest period.

So, given what I was able to run today under ideal conditions and a badass fellow runner to challenge me and push me along, I learned a thing or two.

If I expect to come close to my goal time, it ain't gonna be pretty. It's going to be alot of me gritting and grunting and gasping my way from mile 1 through mile 26 point 2. There will be no dignity left at all.

I've always figured that one should be able to do this, look reasonably good doing it, keep things together, and PR if you've put your miles in. Sure, it gets difficult at a point, but I figure I've done pretty well if I haven't had to walk, I haven't sobbed, I've finished looking and feeling somewhat strong, and I haven't shmooed in my pants. I imagine someone like Christine floating along, looking lovely, never losing her composure, her sweat looking more like a glow than a struggle, and kicking 26 point 2 miles of ass behind her. Quite gracefully.

But today I learned that all of that will have to go out the window if I'm gonna have a hope of getting close to that 3:25. It's going to be ugly from beginning to end, I'm going to be - again - gritting, grunting, and gasping. There will be no way to avoid it.

As for the rest of today's run? That 4-mile cool down from the Travis Country loop, back across MoPac, through Sunset Valley and back up to Central Market? Ouch. If I could have cried, I would have. I sure wanted to. It hurt, I was demoralized, and I could barely run another step. But it's behind me now and, to quote one of my favorite pre-run songs: done, done, on to the next one. (Foo Fighters - All My Life)

And I'm still not quite ready to reassess that finishing goal, bronze standard or otherwise.

Soul Builder II Team Rogue Workout

Holy moley!

Yesterday's workout: 18 miles from Gateway over to Mesa, down North Hills to Balcones, Hancock, down Shoal Creek Blvd, 38th to Jefferson, down to Enfield, west to Lake Austin Blvd.

Then the fun began. The route took us up Redbud to Westlake Drive, and turned around to take us to the dreaded Stratford Drive. Stratford spit us out into Zilker, and an out and back through Zilker brought us to the Austin High track. That was the first 18 miles. At the track, the plan was to run six more miles (for a total of 24 miles before the mile-or-so cool down back to the pool) hard at these paces to test our fitness and mental toughness and to try to simulate how you'd feel at the end of a full marathon:

2 miles at marathon goal pace (mgp) - 1:57/400m
2 miles at half marathon goal pace (hmgp) - 1:51/400m
2 miles at 10K pace - 1:46/400m

Looking at my watch, this is how I did:
Mile 1 - 1:59, 2:02, 1:59, 1:57
Mile 2 - 1:56, 1:55, 1:56, 1:56 - held mgp nicely in the first 2 miles
Mile 3 - 1:52, 1:53, 1:53, 1:54
Mile 4 - 1:50, 1:51, 1:54, 1:50 - was hovering around hmgp in the second 2 miles
Mile 5 - 1:49, 1:54, 1:53, 1:56
Mile 6 - 1:57, 2:07 (spaced on the lap button), 3:30 for my final 800m (spaced on the lap button again) - never quite got to 10K pace in the last two miles except for maybe late in my last 800 meters when I knew it was my last lap.

Somewhere in my last lap I remember thinking, "I wonder if I'll make myself barf if I keep running like this?"

By my coach's assessment on the team forum, since I couldn't quite get to 10K pace, I'd be what he's terming a "bronze" standard, as opposed to platinum or gold, and I should reassess my marathon goal of 3:25.

Hmmmm. I'm not quite ready to reassess just yet, even though that cool down jog from the track over to Barton Springs Pool was the most painful post-workout I've had in 14 years of marathon training.

Ouch!

Hurricane Ike spared Austin. I'd have loved some rain, but I'm happy we avoided any damaging wind. And I'm happy I was able to get the Saturday morning run in.

The Saturday morning run looked uncertain as late as Friday night. Yes, the funk had me hoping for a day off, but I still went through all the Friday motions anyway; I hydrated carefully all day, ate dinner early, shaved the legs, gathered the running stuff, and set the alarm.

In the morning Ruth's note on the website said "we're on." Skeptical, I checked the weather radar online, and it looked safe.

Thankfully the coaches decided to put off the "soul buster" run until next week. With all of my preoccupation with the hurricane and with Ken leaving town for the weekend I would not have had a chance to familiarize myself with the run and visualize it. I would not have been able to take full advantage of it and get out of it what its inventor intends.

But we still ran Mt. Bonnell. And I have a full appreciation for that m-f'er.

I ran the course as my coaches recommended we run it - hit it hard in the final three or so miles at marathon goal pace.

I don't know what my pace was (remind me to ask Santa for a 405), but I was pushing. I felt okay along Lake Austin Blvd and across the MoPac bridge until I felt the fatigue creep into my legs and up through my torso and down my arms. It's a really bad feeling. I'm afraid of it. It's one (just one - there is at least one other) of the fears that I had to confess to my coach when he suggested that I'm afraid. I thought of Kamran's remark that he spent some time training for 5K's so he could find out how much it hurt. I reminded myself that it's SUPPOSED to f'n hurt.

Sure, I slowed down and got passed there in the last half mile. But I think I got more out of that run than just 18 miles that took me up and over (and up and over) Mt. Bonnell. These training runs are for "that which you fear the most" to "meet you halfway." In this case it met me in the last mile.

Hello, pain. I'm Kate. I'm going to stop avoiding you.

Thanks, Coach.

Sunk in a Funk

…but I’m climbing my way out. I’m going to blame hormones because it’s easy, and just leave it at that.

The funk sunk me into a wicked running slump! I’ve been in slumps like this before. I’m hoping this one is just a multi-day slump and not a multi-week or multi-month slump. Again, I’m going to blame hormones because it’s easy.

August was a great running month, with 60-plus-mile weeks up until the Zilker Relays. Since the relay and the long run the day after, which in reality was a very short long run – a very short and torturous long run, the funk has been a lead weight with a firm grip on each heel. It did let go for the progressive pace run on the 2nd and for the Scenic Hill loops on the 4th. Come to think of it, except for some stomach issues on the 20-miler on the 6th, I managed to shake loose of it that morning, too, and had rather a pleasant run. But it grabbed on tight starting on Monday and even a pep talk from my coach hasn’t pried it off.

Hurricane Ike’s messing with me now. I was glad to read Julia’s post on the forum, that Ike better step up because she was planning to spend her day on the couch listening to the rain on the roof. That wouldn’t quite be my plan, but I’ve been secretly hoping that Ike might give me a legitimate excuse to stay off the roads Saturday morning. In that case, I can quit blaming the hormones.

The Great Austin Experiment

This is the first time I’ve run with a marathon training group that has enforced the base phase of training. This may be the first time any group in Austin has done that. In the past I’ve joined groups that assume the runners have a base of running fitness by telling the participants “you should be able to comfortably run ____ miles at the start of this training.” Then the group goes straight into speed and hill workouts and building weekly mileage – with occasional drop-back weeks – up to the traditional start of a pre-marathon taper period.

And what an experiment it’s been! We started at the end of May just building mileage. By mid-July I’d worked my way up to my highest mileage ever (60+ miles per week) and, with a couple of drop-back weeks, I’ve been able to sustain it into August.

The mighty Ken and his fellow fasties have worked themselves into 100-mile frenzies week after week. Testosterone, testosterone. But everyone seems to be staying healthy.

Team Rogue has raised a lot of eyebrows in Austin’s running community.

The running has been the easy part, honestly. It’s everything that surrounds the running that’s been challenging and even comical. Fortunately for me my husband is a partner through all of this. We’re both participating, so we haven’t had to sacrifice time together like so many others must.

The hard part has been all of the pre-run prep like having to pack up work clothes, shower stuff, breakfast food, and lunch the evening before each run; having to go to bed so early that it’s still twilight so that the 4:00 a.m. alarm might not hurt so much; having to rush to prepare dinner so you can eat early enough to digest before the next morning’s run. While we did allow ourselves to watch our recorded coverage of the TdF, we’ve missed most of the Olympics coverage.

There have been some humorous stories about my teammates’ challenges, mostly associated with getting to work on time after squeezing in a 14- or a 16-miler on weekday morning. Folks tell about rushing to work late for meetings, or missing meetings entirely, or getting to the office and “I still have soap in my ears,” or having to work a boat sales floor till 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. after a Saturday morning 22-miler. For me, the blow-dryer has gone unused plenty of times in exchange for a precious few minutes to grab a bite to eat and still get in the office door ahead of my Director. And makeup? Forget that.

Recently, I hung Pearl Izumi’s new ad on my office wall: “If you ran without sacrifice, congratulations. You just jogged.”

I’m almost 48. I’m running the biggest miles I’ve ever run. I’m holding together quite well. I’m part of the great Austin experiment, and I ain’t jogging.

Looking Good - Even on the Second Pass

This morning Crazy Legs Kevin (Mr. Sub-2:50) passed me about five miles into the run. I had started several minutes ahead of everyone else because I think it’s better to get passed by everybody than to get dropped at the outset. There’s a better chance for a little friendly heckling and socializing. And I can’t bring myself to meet up with the 5:00 a.m. group. It’s too much pressure to get myself out the door by 4:40 a.m. It’s out of the question.

Kevin said a quick hello as he went by, his legs doing that propeller action on his back kick. And off he went.

By now I had expected the shirtless “fasties,” as Priscilla calls them, to catch me. Ramon came by, but he was all alone.

I ambled along through Delwood, crossed over to Hyde Park, through Brykerwoods, across MoPac and into Tarrytown still all by myself. Having seen Ken and his gang make up miles on me time and again, I was feeling mighty surprised that I’d stayed out in front of them this long.

Chris K. caught up with me along Lake Austin Boulevard. We chatted for a moment. He told me that the fasties were doing the 16-mile loop. Still glad I’d stayed out in front of them, I was certain they’d be up on me momentarily as I neared the end of my 14-miler.

At the Rock I chatted with Julia and Katie. I headed out across the bridge to Barton Springs Pool and along comes…guess who? Crazy Legs Kevin! He remarked that he was passing me a second time. So, he’d made up at least two miles on me – probably three – since I’d first seen him five miles into the run. As I processed this notion with some frustration with myself and admiration for Kevin, I shouted to him, now already several yards out in front of me, “But, Kevin, do I still look good?” He looked back with a grin and gave me a nod and a chuckle. He may have even verbalized a “yes.” Whatever. I’ll take it and run.

Where were the fasties? Lost, I understand. A little pack of guys in black shorts and no shirts scrambling around the ‘hoods of central and west Austin. If found, point them south to the pool.

Using "Summer" as a Verb

One of the most amusing lines that came out of the republican primary contests was when Mike Huckaby said of Mitt Romney something like: “My family never used the word ‘summer’ as a verb…”

Neither did mine. But I’d sure like to. I’d like to use the word “summer” as a verb that tells what Ken and I might do some day.

On many summer visits to the Cape in the past, I thought that it would be nice to be able to spend summers there. Maybe the occasional and entirely optional and short non-summer visit but what I’m thinking here is the full-on June through August, or July through September extended stay. I’d even stay through October but, come November, Cape Cod and the entire state of Massachusetts should be left to her locals. Case in point: April 15-17, 2007.

And it’s gotta be an extended stay because if you do the standard week or two on the Cape you run the probable risk that it will rain every day you’re there. I’ve seen it happen. Not while I was “summering” there, of course, but as a teenager cooped up in a two-week summer rental with my parents. And a two-week visit doesn’t add up to “summering”.

On this most recent visit, I just about resolved that Ken and I shall “summer” on the Cape at some point in our lives. The great weather on this visit had much to do with my resolution. That, and my sister’s beautiful garden. And ALL of the beautiful gardens there! It seems that these people can just dig a few holes and plant a few perennials and annuals and they have flowers everywhere.

When I actually “summer” there, I’ll be too old to run, but I saw plenty of what looked like younger retirees cycling along the rail trail and the canal trail. You can bet I won’t go antiquing when I’m summering, but I’ll cycle and golf and lots of other nice things. Here will be our typical day:

7:00 – Wake up and have coffee and read the paper and have a bite to eat. I’ll bake muffins or a pie or run to Dunkin’ Donuts. Ken can walk the dachshund and the Labrador that we got from a rescue group.
9:00 – Jog or cycle or garden or golf. I might even let Ken talk me into some inland kayaking.
12:00 – Lunch. We’ll have chowda almost every day.
1:00 – Read or nap or write in our blogs or go to a movie
4:00 – Chores!
5:00 – Happy Hour!
6:00 – Dinner
7:00 – Walk the dogs on a beach
8:00 – Hang out. Maybe we’ll have a porch or a nice deck.
9:00 – Lights out

Away for a Few Days

I just got back from a visit to the family in MA. I gave Ken a pass on this visit to spare him from any family drama. I should have brought him. Folks would have been on their better behavior for him.

I got two lovely runs in. One was an out-and-back 12-miler on the Cape Cod Rail Trail between Dennis and Brewster. It’s asphalt-paved, mostly shaded, straight, and very level. It passes by ponds and several cranberry bogs. It’s marked every half mile. My sister rode her bike along with me. She was a great Sherpa, carrying water along in her bike bag.

The following day we went up to the Cape Cod Canal trail. There are asphalt-paved trails on either side of the canal for foot and bicycle recreation. Like the rail trail, the canal trail is straight and flat. My sister was my patient Sherpa again. It was a beautiful day. The water in the canal was a beautiful blue and there was a lot of boat traffic – mostly sailboats. The air had that great salty smell to it. It was about 72 degrees at mid-day with a steady gentle tailwind for the seven miles heading out that turned into a delightful breeze heading back.

It was nice to get out of the heat for a few days but I was very glad to get home!

What's in a Name?

My favorite line out of one of the songs on my Dropkick Murphy’s CD is: “You got a piece of your life so take it and run now.” That it has the word “run” in it is a bonus. I thought it would make a good name. It’s better than “Ken has a blog so I’ll have one too,” which – I swear to God – I was considering.

This is wicked blog envy. I never wanted a blog before, but suddenly I must have one. Maybe now I gotta get me one of those MySpace pages on the worldwide web just to stay ahead of Ken.