Sometimes Plan B is Awesome

With plans to run with my running buddy suddenly derailed on Thursday, I was left with a few options:  1.  Run by myself at 8pm in the dark, 2.  Skip the run, or 3.  Figure out somehow to run that somehow incorporated the kids while John was at taekwondo.  I opted for #3.  It turned out to be one of the best decisions of my week.

The neighborhood across from ours is essentially a mile loop with cul de sacs that add another mile or so.  Though my original plan for the evening was to run about 5-6 miles, I knew that I had to adjust that goal if my kids were involved.  I decided that 3 miles would suffice.  The kids got their helmets and bikes and I laced up.

Initially, I thought my kids would be outpacing me by a bit.  We had a plan for them to ride around the cul de sacs until I caught up and then we would head to the next one.  It turns out that I can run up hills faster than they can ride up hills.  There were enough hills that we more or less took the same amount of time to make it around.  In some cases, I had to stop for a bit to wait, but they gave it their best.

The hills turned out to be a highlight for me, as behind me I heard Everly, pushing up the hill, yell "Victory is mine!!"

I started down the hill before they made it to the top.  But I knew when they were right behind, as Everly yelled, "Comin' in hot!!"

As we continued, finally finding a flat stretch where we could keep pace with each other a bit better, Cortlan said to me, "Mommy, I love that you love to run."  That meant the world to me.

And it only got better.  We finished the run/ride with a couple more stops (and Cortlan asking, "Next time we stop, can I have a hug?"), and made it safely home.  As I was tucking the kids in for bed, Cortlan tells me, "That was a happy moment in my life."

I completely agree.

About that race...the finish!

Between the lack of bathrooms without huge lines, some (minimal) navigation issues, and the uphill and trail runs that some of us had, the second half of our 77.7 mile run was definitely a little bit more challenging than the first.  But it was no less fun.  And it was amazing how quickly the many hours flew by.

By the time I got to my second leg of the race, the sun had warmed things up enough for me to brave removing a layer or so of running gear.  I felt the pain for runner 4 (who had the hardest leg of the race - a huge and pretty steep uphill climb) as I ran for a little less than a mile downhill and then the remaining almost 4 miles uphill.  I was glad for the many miles I had run around my house, with the rolling hills of the area serving me well for the uphill climb.  But still, my pace slowed and my calves screamed as I made my way up.  And up.

The first (and easiest) part of my second leg...I can definitely learn a few things about my running form from this pic.

Unlike my first leg, when I had passed no one and no one had passed me, there were many more people around for this 4.8 miles.  The hill did many people in; I passed 8 or 9 people but I also got passed by a few people.  I worked hard.  I had to force myself to look around and enjoy the scenery.  I was so happy to see the exchange point and I was so proud of my average pace for the difficult run: 8:16/mile.

The lake was beautiful.  The sky was clear.  The route took us through a state park and past many more wineries and distilleries.  Amanda's leg of the race took her past the winery where she was married.  The evening was upon us.  With an 8 am start, our projected time of finish was 7:03 pm if we were to hold to the 8:30 pace chart.  With some legs we would gain a minute, but with others we would lose a couple.  The uphills were challenging.  The fatigue of getting up at 6 am and running twice already was catching up to us a bit.

My third leg was my shortest leg, and despite my legs having already carried me over nine miles, it was the most fun.  I actually still felt pretty good.  I was really enjoying the day and was definitely excited to see what I could do, having never run three times in the same day before.  As Amanda ran in for the exchange, I lived up to our team name (70's Seven - You Should See Us Dance!) and danced her in.

Then I took off.

I had a great deal of confidence as I left, knowing I had nothing to lose, that I didn't have to save anything, and that we had all done our best.  I knew the worst was behind me and that this was it.  I enjoyed my music.  I enjoyed the fresh air.  I enjoyed the scenery.  As I approached my last hill of the day, I enjoyed the steady pace that I found.  I passed a few people who had slowed to a walk, and got passed by one or two, as well.

One of the people I passed was not happy about it.  She was walking when I passed her going up a hill, but I felt her right behind me as I came to the crest of the hill.  I wasn't sure how far the exchange point was from there, but when I crested the hill, I saw it.  I started to speed up.  So did she.  I sped up more.  She did, too.  By the time we got to the exchange, we were both in a full sprint, with teammates cheering us on.  Unfortunately, we would have to cross paths to get to our teammates.  We got a little tangled, but my teammate took off first.  I finished the leg with a 7:59/mile average...slower than my first leg, but I was thrilled to have broken 8:00 on my third run of the day.

The next stop would be the end of the race, where we would all reunite and cross the finish line together.  There were many start times for the race, with some people starting as early as 7 am and waves leaving every half hour until 9:30 am.  The 9:30 groups were the fastest.  Their goal was to pass everyone along the way and finish before the 7 am groups.  So, as we jubilantly crossed the finish line, we had no idea how we really did in comparison to everyone else.  But, it didn't even matter.  We couldn't have been prouder of ourselves.

Initially, we weren't sure if we would finish by 8 pm.  Then we set our sights much higher.  We ended up crossing the finish line at 7:12 pm...11 hours and 12 minutes after we had begun our race.  Our average pace was 8:38/mile.  When we woke in the morning, we discovered that we had placed 5th (out of 35) in the all-women groups and 87th (out of 209) overall.

Our team finish!

This was definitely a race that I will never forget.  I met some awesome women, laughed my butt off, and ran my heart out.  We exceeded our own expectations and had an amazing day filled with memories and experiences that will last a lifetime.  Thanks, girls, for a great race.  For a great day.

About that race...part 2

As runner three took off, we all got in the car, with runners five, six, and seven thinking of coffee more than anything.  Fortunately, not far along the drive to the next checkpoint was a little gas station.  I ran in quickly, and it was like a scene from an old movie - the sheriff sat at the counter enjoying his cup of coffee and some small-town conversation with the owner.  I filled three cups, and the owner asked, "Are you involved with this running thing that is going on?"  Yep.  I am running around the lake as part of a team of seven women.

We got to the next checkpoint with about ten minutes to spare, and then off went runner four.  Our short term goal became to find bathrooms that didn't have a long line before quickly heading to the next checkpoint.  Fortunately, there were several port-a-potties at this stop, which was one of many wineries along the way.  Unfortunately, port-a-potties without lines would not to be the norm for the next many hours.

Runners 7, 5, and 6

I began to get a touch nervous as runner five (Amanda) sped off.  There would be another bathroom trip necessary.  I was worried about what I had eaten (and not eaten).  I was definitely not used to running in the late morning. As my turn approached, I was glad that a teammate had packed some energy chews.  I ate a few and downed some water.  My adrenaline started and I anxiously awaited as Amanda flew in to the exchange point.  I grabbed the slap bracelet, slapped it onto my arm, and went.

Heading out for my first leg of the race...

It was cold.  Only in the upper 30's at best, I was not quite sure what to wear.  But once I got moving, I warmed up quickly.  Starting off, my legs felt wobbly and unsure, and I had to mentally move them for a while before I felt them calm down and I was able to find a comfortable stride.  I was excited when my team drove by, honking the horn, ringing the cow bell, and cheering me on.  I would see them again soon.  The rolling hills were much like the roads I run around my house.  I could handle them.  I ran along a relatively isolated road with but one person ahead of me, just out of reach.  I focused on him, and, for a while, thought I might be able to catch him.  I did close a bit of distance, but never did reach him.  I passed no one, but no one passed me, either.  I passed the slap bracelet to the last runner on our team.  My pace on this 4.6 mile leg: 7:42/mile.

Just finished my first leg and made the hand off

I stretched for a minute or two before we took off in the Yukon again.  My next focus was to eat.  Never have an avocado smeared on bread and a hard-boiled egg tasted so good.

We would do the whole thing twice more.  Getting out of the car, cheering one runner in as the next went off, getting back into the car, passing by our teammate, honking and yelling and ringing the cow bell, finding bathrooms (or sides of roads), sneaking in food when and where we could (the pit stop halfway through for pizza was one of the best decisions).  We were pretty close to being on our lofty-goal average pace of 8:30...at least for the first half of the race, which was predominately down hill.  The second half proved to be more of a challenge, as it was just as much uphill to get back to where we started.

Mmmm...pizza!

To be continued...

About that race...part 1

One year ago, I was getting ready to run a half marathon in the city.  I am not running it this year, but the weekend immediately before Cortlan's surgery escapade was another running adventure for me...

That Saturday morning, I headed out for a five hour drive to meet up with two members of a seven member team that I would be running with on Sunday.  It was April 20th, and less than 45 minutes away from my house, I hit the first of many snow squalls of the drive.  Beyond the snow, the drive was uneventful and easy; I enjoyed  listening to the radio stations of my choice.

When I got to my destination, I headed to the salon where my friends were and where I got a great new look with a new haircut.  We headed to lunch, went back home to pack our running gear and get situated for the next day, stopped at the grocery store for a few items, and then we were off to the lake house owned by one of the other members of our seven member team.

The lake house was beautiful and spacious.  The three of us were assigned a bedroom that had three twin beds in it.  We dropped our stuff and headed back downstairs for some introductions and socializing; eventually, we made dinner and ate at around 9 pm.  Many laughs and discussions of when we were going to get up and out of the house later, we made our way to bed a bit before midnight...definitely a late night for me, and far later than I have ever stayed up the night before a race.  But we had a great time, and I didn't drive five hours to just sleep!

The rules said that we were to arrive by 7 am to pick up our race packet.  Our entire team had to be there to sign something; the race started at 8 am.  Not everyone in our group agreed that we should abide by this rule.  In fact, by the time we left the lake house, it was 7 am.  I was quite worried that we would miss the opportunity to pick up our packet or that we would somehow be disqualified.  Those fears intensified when I realized the lake house was almost 40 minutes away from the starting point.

The third car in a three car caravan, we nervously watched as the lead drivers spoke out of their windows to race officials and police officers.  They were given instructions and information.  A couple of people got out of the car.  One shrugged her shoulders at us.  I was sure our race was over before it even started.

We finally were able to find a parking space and reconnect with our group.  I was amazed and relieved when I was asked to sign a paper and our team leader was told where to pick up our packet.  We quickly got our bibs pinned on and headed back outside.  We attempted to get a group picture, but the race was minutes away from starting.  The first runner made it to the starting line with no time to spare; the second runner ran after the shuttle that would take her to the first checkpoint as it drove past us.  The remaining five of us got in the Yukon and drove to the second checkpoint.  The adventure had begun.

The race was around a long, skinny lake - Seneca Lake in New York - and was 77.7 miles long.  There were seven of us that would cover that distance as a team, each with three legs of a total of 21 legs.  I was runner six.  Being that I had no coffee or breakfast to speak of, I was quite happy to have a bit of time before I had to run and was hopeful that somewhere along the route I could get a cup.

After we waited in line for quite a while for the bathroom at the second checkpoint, we saw a shuttle arrive and our first runner get off.  Now a group of six, we anxiously awaited our runner #2 and cheered her in as runner #3 took off.  We had a couple of loose goals:  first, to finish the race; second, to not get kicked off the course or picked up by the sweeper van because we didn't finish by the 7:58 pm race cut off.  Our third and most lofty goal was to keep up with the time estimator in the back of our map book.  It told us when to arrive at each check point if we were to average an 8:30 pace.  Our group was composed of women with a wide variety of experience and training - one was training for a marathon and had missed qualifying for Boston last year by 35 seconds, one had gone to college on a cross country scholarship, one had just run her first race in March and it was a five-miler.  Our paces ranged from the mid-7's to the mid 10's.

To be continued...

Reflecting

Maybe it is because I haven't been paying enough attention. 
Maybe it is because there is just so much going on.
Maybe it is because I spend more of my time diffusing arguments, dealing with bickering and tattling, and trying to figure out ways to contend with the behavior issues that come with having a near-four and a six year old.
Maybe it is just because my children are growing up and it takes more effort, in general, to effectively parent them.

In any case, I haven't been very good at enjoying the moments lately.

Don't worry - there is nothing wrong.  I am totally fine.  The thing is, I am just...well, fine.

Fine is fine.  It really is.  But, two years ago, after I had started this blog and was consistently writing for a while, I felt way better than fine.  I had so much to write about.  I was finding those kairos moments more often than not.  Back then, I got a long taste of that feeling that is too often fleeting these days. 

That is how I started the blog post that I began earlier this afternoon.

I didn't have a chance to get much farther in writing it, as my five "allotted" minutes at the end of the day were up so soon and it was time to head out to get the kids.

John and I drove to work together today, and, after getting the kids, we realized that there was enough time for one of us to go home to get something accomplished while the other took the kids to gymnastics.  He graciously offered to take them so that I could go for a run.

Typically, I would have said "no," as I have a standing 8pm running date on Tuesdays with at least one of my two consistent running buddies.  But today my partners were unable to run with me.  A schedule conflict was the reason for one, and for the other, the 5 degree temperature with wind chills at least that many degrees below zero played a large part.  To be honest, I was a bit hesitant myself, but in the daylight the weather seemed much less daunting, and I felt like I needed to go.

So, John dropped me off at the house and I donned many layers.  I headed out without my watch, without my ipod, and without my friends. 

Immediately, I felt a sense of peace that I haven't felt in a while.

And somewhere around mile 3, it hit me:  Maybe, just maybe, I haven't had an easy time enjoying the moments lately because I haven't had time to think about them.  I haven't spent the necessary time to reflect.  I haven't spent much time at all alone with nothing but my thoughts.  Here I was, with nothing to do but move one foot in front of the other and think.  And it took me three miles to realize what it was doing to me.  And what it did to me was a great thing.

I absolutely love running with my friends.  I truly, truly do.  And I will continue to do so, because it allows me to exercise and socialize and have great conversations with great ladies - a perfect combination for this multi-tasker who has so little time for a social life.  My friends get me out of the door in the dark and cold, when I know I would never do it on my own.  And I never, ever regret running those five miles with them. 

But those days, not so very long ago, when I had so much to write about?  Those days full of kairos moments?  Those were the same days that included me running by myself for five days a week.  Running solo 20-30 miles is great therapy.  It is much needed time to process and regroup.  It is often the only time during the week that I can slow my brain and assimilate everything.

Over the next mile or so, I thought of many things.  Life changes; I don't doubt that many of the things that I mentioned at the start of this post contribute to how I feel.  I also don't doubt that writing this blog less has something to do with it, because the less I am writing, the less I am reflecting.  I do think that giving myself the opportunity to think and be alone with my thoughts every now and then is an important part of that sense of balance for which I always seem to be striving.  And I do think it is possible for me to gain back that sense of ease at appreciating the moments.

Time to readjust.
Again.

Half Marathon #3

When I ran a half marathon through the city streets in May, though I was proud and satisfied, I was mostly happy it was over.  I enjoyed the race only on some mental level that I am not quite satisfied with, or at least not enough to want a repeat performance.  The early-bird registration for the 2013 version of that race has come and gone, and I have no desire to sign up.  After that race, I took a short break and then resumed running, though without any goals in mind.  I continued running, often meeting with a new running partner, through the summer, and then, surprisingly, into the fall.  My mileage steadily increased as my friend and I talked away the dark evening miles after the kids were in bed during the week and I headed out at daybreak on the weekends.  With no goal in mind, I actually wasn't sure when to stop or what to do.  In late September, my friend finally convinced me to run the half marathon that she was training for; somewhat reluctantly, I did.

My reluctance was largely due to the fact that I was kind of enjoying the no pressure runs.  With no plan, I didn't have any regrets when I cut a run short.  I didn't care if I did sprints, or hill workouts, or tempo runs.  When I felt like it, I went a bit faster, when I didn't, I went slower.  But I also felt as though I needed a "grand finale" to this season of running.  Not that I am going to totally stop, but I kind of was missing something to work for, after which I could give myself permission to cool it for a bit.

About a month prior to the race, I signed up not having the slightest clue as to how I would do.  I had certainly been putting in the miles.  At my peak, I was running over 30 miles a week; typically, more in the 26-28 range.  I knew I had it in me to finish without an issue.  I had also done some workouts with my friend here and there when our schedules aligned and we wanted to.  But I really didn't know what to expect from myself.  Therefore, I didn't put a whole lot of pressure on myself. 

It was a chilly morning, with threatening rain.  My friend picked me up at 6:30 AM and five of us drove the 40 minutes or so to the race packet pick-up location.  We got our timing chips and bags and got on the school bus that served as the shuttle to the start.  Once there, we headed into the heated building that was available.  I did my fair share of waiting in lines for the porta potties but otherwise managed to stay warm.  Soon, it was time to line up.

The five of us that drove together split off, with two sticking together and the rest of us going at it alone.  The gun went off and so did we.  Stuck in a large pack, I jockeyed myself through the sea of people until I was in a comfortable place with some elbow room.  We ran on the streets for about half of a mile, and then a hairpin turn took us down onto a trail that is part of a "Rails to Trails" program - unused railways have been converted into running paths; the rails are gone and crushed gravel and, in some places, asphalt have been put in their place.  As soon as I got onto the trail, I knew I was going to love this race.

One of the guys that rode with us had a similar race plan as me...we both planned to start at around an 8 minute mile pace and adjust from there.  When I was approaching the hairpin turn, I spotted him heading the other direction.  I got to within about six feet of him and decided to hang there behind him for a while.  He had no idea I was there, and I later found out that he thought I was ahead of him.  I let him pace me at between 7:55 and 8:00 miles for a while before he noticed me.  I was surprised at how easily I was able to maintain that pace, but I still didn't feel confident enough to speed up at all.

I had thrown together a play list the night before, and I was loving it.  At around mile 7 or 8, a great song came on that made me itch to run faster.  I pulled up beside my friend and said, "Are you ready?" He said, "You go."  I did.

As I ran, oftentimes singing along to my music, I was struck by the beauty of the course.  All around me were trees with beautiful fall foliage.  At one point, to my right was a lake.  For much of the course, there was a creek to my left.  I passed a water fall.  There were boulders and cliffs.  The skies cleared and the sun shined through the tree branches.  Leaves, blown by the slight breeze, fluttered down.  For a little while, I tried to catch them as I ran, thinking that Cortlan and Everly would love to have a leaf that I caught during my race.  I soaked it all up and enjoyed it; this was such a different experience than May. 

And I could hardly believe it, but my legs felt great. 

As I came upon mile 10, I still felt like I had another gear left.  In that mile, I averaged 7:51 as I slowly caught and passed people.  I did the same for mile 11.  Something fantastic happened in mile 12 and without looking at my watch until the end of the mile, I was able to average a 7:36.  With 0.2 mile to go, I could see the finish line and I began to go as fast as my legs could carry me...I brought it home with a 6:59 pace.

With low expectations, a beautiful downhill course, and what turned out to be perfect race conditions, I finished with a personal record of 1:43:05.70.  What's even better is that this may be one of my favorite runs ever.

_____________________________________________

Here are my results:

Finish time: 1:43:05.70
Overall Place: 164/822
Division Place: 7/87
Female Place: 35/426
Average Pace: 7:52/mi

Can this count as 4 posts?

A couple weeks later and here we are. This is what has been happening.

EVERLY:

• has started calling her brother "Cotlan" instead of "Totlan."
• wore jewelry to school three out of five days last week; one of those days, she got her necklace taken away because she wouldn't stop playing with it, even when her teacher asked her repeatedly not to. She's not allowed to wear that one to school anymore.
• changed her clothes three or four times this morning before leaving for school. Ultimately, she wanted to wear a sweater. As soon as we got to school, she took it off anyway.
• has been getting out of her bed regularly at night. I finally told her that I am going to start marking down how many times she gets out of bed, and there are going to be consequences if she gets too many marks. (I have yet to figure out how many is "too many.")  Last night, she didn't get out of bed until 11pm, when she woke to go potty. (She won't get a mark for that.)
• loves cutting and gluing, is very good at recognizing her letters and letter sounds, and is very motivated to learn.
• thinks that she can spell, because she keeps randomly spouting off letters and asking me what that spells. For example: "Mommy, what does 't-t-t-t-l-p-l-r-y' spell?." Usually, I sound out what she spells and then tell her it isn't a word. Once, though, she said, "Mommy, what does 'e-a-r-l-y' spell?" I had to give that one to her. Cortlan was amazed she could spell "early".
• doesn't care much about saving things. When she is done, it can be thrown away.
• started gymnastics and loves it. Though, she needed to be sure to have the ponytail holder that matched the leotard she wore.

CORTLAN:

• laughs and says "You kicked me?? No you didn't!" when his sister clearly means "tricked." He calls her on her mispronunciations all the time...maybe that is why she has started to say his name right.
• was on "yellow" three out of five days last week at school when we picked him up. This isn't as bad as red, but he should be on green. His teacher said, "He was being way too silly with his friends."
• has been doing a great job at getting himself dressed in the morning. For the most part.
• seems to be taking advantage of his color blindness (for John's benefit: his color vision deficiency). Several of the worksheets that he has had lately have required him to correctly identify colors. For example, he was to color all of the pictures that rhymed with "boat" blue and the ones that rhymed with "jar" red. Other worksheets had him using as many as eight or ten colors. I asked his teacher how he has been doing with those activities. She said that his friends help him tremendously, giving him all of the crayons, telling him what color they are. "Here, Cortlan, this is the brown one! This is the red one!" I can just picture it.
• went to the allergist in August and found out that, among the things for which he was tested, he is severely allergic to grass, ragweed, two other weeds that I can't remember, oak, and cat. He did not show a response for crab, lobster, or shrimp. He is on a nasal spray, a liquid allergy medicine, and eye drops. Yesterday, at the follow-up appointment, we found that he may have to get his adenoids removed. An ENT appointment is up next to find more information about that.
• must save everything. It is driving me crazy. Every piece of paper. Every bottle cap, paper towel tube, even the used dixie cups he drinks water out of at school. He sobbed when I told him we were going to have to throw some of it away.
• started soccer again. He got a goal in the first game and was thrilled! The second game didn't go quite as well, but he did seem to enjoy it. He is really liking gymnastics.

JOHN:

• has been working hard and doing a great job at what he does. I am proud of him...it isn't easy to deal with as many people as he does with the grace and respect in which he does it. He is very appreciated at work and at home.
• has been able to experience the "gymnastics thing" this year which involves listening to a whole lot of moms chatting away in the viewing room. He is driven as crazy (or crazier) than I typically am.
• washes dishes like nobody's business.

I:

• have been wondering how I got such a high maintenance daughter.  Seriously. 
• can't believe that I spelled kindergarten incorrectly in two posts. And my mom had to call me to let me know about it.
• have been running regularly (though half the time not getting home until after 9pm) and finally was convinced to sign up for my 3rd half-marathon.  I have a running buddy that I get to run in the evenings with most days, and I have been loving the opportunity to chat and have some social time while exercising.  Often, it is the only socializing I get to do.
• have had some very stressful days at work lately, but I am kind of proud of myself in how I handled them.
• am somehow calmly appreciating my life.  I have alone time (kind of); I have time when it is just me and the kids; I have time when it is the four of us; I have time when it is just John and I...and I appreciate and enjoy all of those times for what they are.  I realize that I need all of that, and that it is all good.

Pittsburgh Half Marathon

Well, I did it.  I trained for a race through the winter, injury and all, and this morning I ran the Pittsburgh Half Marathon.  And right now, I am sitting on the deck enjoying my runners high on a beautiful day, relaxing while the kids are asleep.

This was my second half marathon, my first being last September in Erie.  And the two races couldn't have been much more different.

I had been nervous for a little over a week, since my last "at pace" run.  That run was supposed to be five miles at the pace I hoped to run the race, and those five miles weren't nearly as easy I had hoped they would be.  In comparison to the training I was able to do last summer (waking up early in the AM to run, not one injury holding me back, completed most of my scheduled miles), my training for this race was not quite up to par (running in the evening after working all day, three weeks off in February due to injury, then a gradual ease back into training, missing many miles).  There were definitely more challenges to overcome in preparation for this race...and that is not an excuse of any sort, but it is exactly what led me to have no real idea at what pace I should hope to run today's 13.1 miles. 

The mental aspect of running long distances, and the planning and thought that goes into training and running a "smart" race, is still something that I am working on and that doesn't come easy for me.  I ran my race in the fall in ideal conditions on a completely flat course in about 1:44.  When trying to decide on my goal for this race, I took into consideration many things:  It would be a more difficult course, it would be warmer, and I hadn't trained as well; but it would be a larger race with much larger crowds and potentially more energy to push me along.  I set my sights high on a 1:45 goal but knew I would be very happy with a much more realistic 1:50.

They were giving away free pace tattoos at the Expo...I went with an ambitious one.

The morning started off well.  I rode down to the city with a new friend and a friend of her husband's and we got street parking (for free!) right near the baseball stadium. We walked to the bag check with plenty of time to spare and made our way to the bathrooms and then corral B.  (For reference, there were no corrals in Erie.)  The excitement at the starting line was palpable...we were near a parking garage and people were on all levels of the garage hanging over the rails ready to cheer us on, and cheer they did.  The starting gun went off and so did we, en masse.

I remember in Erie starting off and finishing my first mile too fast and with ease.  I didn't want to do that, but when I looked down at my watch and my pace, I was surprised that I was going slower than my goal pace.  That was a little worrisome, being only the first mile, but I spotted the 3:30 marathon pace group ahead and established my plan.  I would try to stay with them until mile 7, reassess, and speed up if I could.

Through the race  - over bridges, through neighborhoods and business districts, under overpasses - there were crowds of people lining the streets cheering us on and many bands rocking out tunes.  I tried to focus on the 3:30 sign that the pacer was carrying, while simultaneously avoiding tripping over curbs, manhole covers, and other people's feet and also trying to avoid being elbowed or elbowing anyone.  The 3:30 pack was tight.  But I was happy to find a groove.

The miles went on.  I hardly listened to my music.  I was happy to not have too many hills to run.  At mile 7, I felt pretty good and braved passing the pacer.  At around 8.5 miles in, the pacer was passing me.  Ok, then.  I resolved to keep him in my sights.  At mile 10, he started to pull away.  No, wait...that was me falling behind.

I was struggling a bit, but was hopeful...I had managed to gain a touch of time somewhere along the way, so my slowing by a touch would still be ok if I could maintain my new pace and then kick it in at the end.  That became my new plan.

At mile 11, the marathoners stayed right, the half-marathoners stayed left.  I lost my pacer, but would have anyway.  As I crossed the bridge, I hit a wall.  I looked at my watch and saw I was going a full minute and forty-five seconds slower than my anticipated pace.  I willed my legs to go faster; they wouldn't.  And then came the largest uphill of the race.  Awesome.  I was swearing at the hill.  I asked a police officer on the side of the road to make it stop.  He told me I was almost there.  My thoughts went to Erie for a second, remembering me jubilantly singing along, cranking up my pace at this point in the race and the guy I passed telling me he hated me.  I hated my Erie self, too, in that moment.

Finally, the top of the hill came, and so did mile 12.  A little more than one mile to go, and it was literally all downhill from there.  I had slowed for the better part of a mile and a half.  My legs had recovered just enough to let me get down the hill at a decent clip and recover some of the lost time.  I took my ear buds out and soaked it all in.  I can't tell you how happy I was to see that finish line.  I did my best to push through.

Hot, sweaty, gross and not looking too pretty, but damn proud!

I finished my race in 1:46.43 and I am extremely happy with that time.  I feel that I left it all out on the course and came in on E, and I can't really think of anything I would have done differently during the race itself. I walked through the finishers chute, got my picture taken, grabbed a Smiley Cookie, some water, and some fruit, and just as I got my wits about me to start looking for somewhere to stretch and meet my friend, I heard, "Joyce!"  It was John and the kids, and I was so glad to see them...I wasn't sure if they would be coming down to the race at all; the logistics got pretty tricky and it was going to be a game-time decision.  Everly wasn't interested in being my monkey (I don't blame her - I was so sweaty), but having my family there at the finish was awesome.  I stretched, we walked around a bit, and then headed home...with the windows down because I stunk so bad I was repulsing even myself.

So happy to see my family at the finish...a great end to the event.

All in all, it was a pretty good race - it was extremely well-organized, the crowds were great, the volunteers awesome.  I challenged myself and, for the most part, came through.  I am proud.  But at the moment, I am also glad it is over!!

________________________________________
My results: (updated...they fixed my division)

Time: 1:46:43
Pace: 8:08.4 min/mile
Division Place: 47/1302
Female Place: 286/7432
Overall Place: 1058/12,103

Superhero Run 2012

About a year ago, when Cortlan was four, he ran his first race - a 1K that he and I "trained" for together.  Not long after I had registered us for that race, I had heard of another race for which everyone participating dressed as superheroes.  The tag line for the Superhero race was "Every child needs a hero, but abused children need superheroes."  I thought the race was for a fantastic cause, and thought to myself, "Next year, we will run this race." 

The time came a couple months ago to register for this year's race, and I jumped at the chance.  Knowing Cortlan's current love of superheroes, I was sure he would be all for it; he was.  Everly caught wind of the fact that we were going to run a race and begged for us to let her run it as well.  She wanted to train; she wanted to run.  How could I say no?  I registered all three of us.

We woke on the morning of the race to temperatures far below seasonal - it was in the low 30's when we got to the park.  Despite that fact, we left our coats in the car and superhero-walked it to near the starting line.  Cortlan had decided at the last minute that he wanted to be Bumblebee, I was Robin (thanks to a great friend lending me her Halloween costume!), and Everly, who was thrilled to have gotten a race t-shirt (that could easily be a dress on her) insisted on wearing it and the cape that we got with our entry fee.

Pinning on the bibs

We were cold, but there was a lot going on.  We enjoyed seeing the various mascots from local sports teams, listening to the music, and seeing all of the other costumes.  Soon enough it was time to head to the starting line.

Stretching a bit (and trying to stay warm) before the start

We were all very excited for the start of the race and when it began, we took off.  The three of us ran together for a bit to start, and then before I knew it, Cortlan was pulling away, as Everly and I were too slow for him.  He peered back over his shoulder and I encouraged him to go for it.  The course was an out-and-back course, and Cortlan was to the turn around point and headed back to the finish before we were even close to turning around.  I cheered him on as he passed us going the opposite direction.  I didn't see him again until Everly and I crossed the finish line.

Cortlan running it home

Everly fussed a bit while she was running, and at one point, I thought she was going to bail.  I asked her why she was crying - her fingers were cold (so were mine!).  I showed her how to tuck her hands in her sleeves to protect them a bit (no buttercups in our family!...ok, I just forgot to grab gloves...) and as we reached the turn-around, she seemed to gain speed and confidence.  Approaching the finish line, the spectators were yelling and cheering, and Everly was smiling and determined.  I actually got a bit emotional hearing all of the cheering for her and seeing her reaction.

Everly and I nearing the finish

Everly has already started talking about running another race and I think Cortlan has a newfound sense of confidence after running this one.  I love that they are enjoying something that I love so much.  And I am very proud of both of them.

My little superheroes!

Next up...The Pittsburgh Half Marathon on Sunday! 

The Top 10 Reasons I Prefer an Early Run Over an Evening Run

10.  Because the sky gets brighter as I go, not darker.
9.  I am not trying to run on legs that have stood all day and walked from the first to the third floor of my building and back numerous times.  In heels.
9.  Even if I don't get anything else accomplished during the day, at least my run is done.
8.  I shower in the morning anyway.
7.  John makes me breakfast when I get home.
6.  I feel invigorated and ready to tackle the day.
5.  The birds are chirping in the springtime.  The snow is silent in the winter.  Most of the world is asleep.
4.  I wake up before anyone else and have some peaceful time as I drink my coffee.
3.  I can run long and far without worrying about my bedtime.
2.  When I get home, everyone is excited to see me.

And the number one reason I prefer waking up early on the weekend to run over an evening run any day:
1.  All I have to say is "I need a monkey!" and I have one on my back to help me stretch everytime.

My monkey is usually asleep when I get back from my evening runs.  Just one of the reasons I love running in the morning.

On ice and athletes

Not long ago, John declared me an athlete.  I am not sure I agree with him, but I will take it as a compliment.  It didn't happen after a PR or a race or even a particularly awesome run.  Nope...it happened on a day when I didn't think twice about lacing up my shoes and heading out the door for a four mile run just like any normal morning.  It just happened to be that on that particular day it was pouring rain.  And then when I got back, I sat in a bath of freezing cold water.  So, I guess if running while nearly ruining my ipod and then torturing myself afterwards makes me an athlete, an athlete I am.

At least one of us is looking cute!  (For some reason, Everly really wanted a picture with me after I ran in the pouring rain.)

After taking some time off, I have slowly been making my comeback from being injured and I think it is going relatively well. What I initially thought was a hamstring pull may actually be sciatica or some other nagging ailment.  As awful as it may sound, I am convinced that soaking in an ice bath (or REALLY cold water bath, sans ice) has helped me remain pain free over the last month or so.  The time off also helped, though it definitely put a kink in my training plan. I am finally beyond my pre-injury mileage; yesterday I completed a nine mile long run for the second consecutive week. I have some good and bad runs recently, but for the most part my confidence is up.  Less than a month to go before the race.  This "athlete" might just be ready!!

 No ice in this bath, but trust me, it was cold! 

Updates

Running

I figured since I just got out of my first ice bath, this would be a good place to start with a few updates.  I am training for my second half marathon and race day is May 6th.  All was going swimmingly, until suddenly it wasn't.  As in: I had a killer run on a Thursday, an enjoyable eight mile run on a Saturday, and then by the end of that day, it felt like I had a huge muscle cramp in my butt.  I actually thought that is what it was.  If you have ever had a muscle cramp, you know how it feels even days later (I know this first hand from the many calf cramps in the middle of the night that I had while pregnant with Cortlan).  There is some weird residual effect that you feel for a while.  So, that is what I thought it was, but I figured it would be worth taking a couple of days off.  I did.  And then when I ran on the following Wednesday and it started screaming at mile 2.5, I entertained the notion that what I had thought was a muscle cramp may have been a pulled hamstring.  Over the course of the next two weeks, I fluctuated between thinking I had a high hamstring pull and sciatica.  I still am not entirely sure what it was, but I finally, after over two full weeks of not running, was able to run again on Sunday.  I ran a measly 1.5 miles at a pace a full two minutes slower than my typical pace.  Tonight I did the same thing again....and then came home and sat in an ice bath.  I am ready for the big comeback.

Potty Training

The potty training went pretty well last summer for Everly.  We had quite the issue with getting #2 to happen on the potty, but once it did, we were golden.  Everly started the school year in underwear and has not yet (knock on wood) had an accident at school.  (She has had two at home, but that is another story.)  Anyway, she has still been wearing Pull-Ups to bed.  Until recently.  Check this out:

See those stickers?  On February 5th, Everly woke up dry.  She got a sticker.  She repeated her performance for eight more days, had one wet morning on the 14th, and then three more dry days.  On Friday, February 17th, we decided to put her to bed in underwear.  I have changed the sheets three times since then, but I am feeling pretty good about that going by the wayside pretty quickly.  Could my girl be fully potty trained, day and night, by her third birthday?  I am thinking yes!

Kindergarten

It is hard to believe, but last Friday, John and I took Cortlan to his Kindergarten registration. I think he was overwhelmed. He started off well enough, but as he got further into the introductions and people giving him attention, he withdrew more and more until he was buried in my leg and unwilling to leave my side for the evaluation portion of the morning. I walked him to the first station and sat nearby as he quietly, and then more confidently, answered the questions, sorted the shapes, built towers of colored blocks, cut out a dinosaur picture, and drew shapes and letters. Eventually, I was able to walk away, and in the end, he was fine. And he will be fine next year.  I am sure of it.  Now I guess the real question is: Will I be fine?

Contrast

Over the past several years, I have really come to appreciate contrast in life.  The winter makes me appreciate the summer more.  The loud house makes me appreciate the quiet.  The busyness makes me appreciate the calm.  And vice versa.

The summer helps me to appreciate the winter...so do my kids.

My kids are typically good sleepers, but recently, we have had a string of sleepless nights.  In the middle of the night, we have heard screams of "My knee hurts!" (growing pains?)  "I'm wet!!!" (Pull-up failed.)  "I can't find Sasha!"  (The babydoll.  Seriously?!)  And "I spit up!"  (I would have said "puked"...all over the bed and floor and IN the bedframe...twice.)  So when I went to bed last night and didn't wake again until this morning when my alarm went off, let's just say I haven't been so appreciative for a full night's sleep in quite a while.

I also was appreciative of a recent great run (even on freshly snow-covered roads) after numerous slow, exhausting, horrible runs that made me wonder what ever could have possessed me to sign up for a May race. 

So happy to have had a great run that I am including this totally awful picture taken right after. 

And as good as that snowy run was, it made me appreciate the 60 degree run around the lake a few days later even more.  And on my way home, when it suddenly poured and then stopped, I certainly appreciated the beautiful rainbow that filled the sky.

Keeping on

I just finished reading an article about Sherry Arnold and I am feeling pretty sad.  Sherry is a mom of five, a high school teacher, and a runner.  She went for a morning run last weekend and wasn't seen alive by her family again.  Two suspects were arrested but little information is being released by authorities about how she died.  My heart is aching for her family, her children, her students, her friends.  I can't imagine the pain they must be enduring right now.  As a fellow a mom and high school teacher, this is devastating.

As a runner, I am also a little angry.  You see, recently, not far from where I live, two women were assaulted near their homes after returning from early morning walks.  The man hasn't been caught, and similar attacks have occurred in another community not too far away that authorities are suspecting may be related.  In this low-crime, very safe suburb, women who have never been scared before are scared.  One of my best friends, also a runner and a teacher, has recently learned how to load a shotgun.  This upsets me.  Don't get me wrong - I am not upset that she knows how to load a gun.  I am upset because there was a reason she felt the need to learn. 

I am angry because when I woke up Saturday morning, I decided not to run.  I decided not to run because in order to get back in time to prepare for my son's birthday party, I was going to have to leave at 6:30 AM.  It is dark at 6:30 AM.  Sherry Arnold left her house at 6:30 AM.  I have run at 6:30 AM and earlier many, many times.   I am always cautious and vigilant, aware of my surroundings, and choose my routes carefully.  I am especially cautious about traffic; I try to make eye contact with as many drivers as possible, I wear visible clothing, blinking lights, follow all rules of the road, and stick to low traffic areas as much as possible.  But Saturday morning, I decided not to go.

I am training for a half-marathon; I don't have a treadmill or a gym membership.  I work full time.  My options are limited, and I typically run in the dark during the week.  I will probably continue to do so.  But I am angry that I am thinking twice.  I am angry that there are women all over this country who have heard the story of Sherry that are thinking twice.

Why did I choose running in the first place?  Because I had a baby at home and little spare time and I could lace up my shoes and head out the door.  Freedom from the schedule of an exercise class.  Freedom from a gym and membership.  Freedom from having to drive to a location to exercise.  Freedom to be outside in the fresh air and to just run.

And now I feel that a little bit of freedom has been taken from me and countless other mother runners who kiss their kids goodbye before they leave with every intention of returning as a better mom.  Or at least returning.

I began this post on Saturday; it is now Tuesday and I am finally getting back to it.  I have since run 12 miles - seven during the middle of the day on Sunday and five in the dark last night. I woke this morning to find a blog post in my inbox from the authors of Run Like a Mother with reminders of safety tips that any runner should review.  I am certainly going to be more mindful.  And with a refusal to be terrorized, I have decided that I am going to keep running and find that freedom again.

I hope that the guy in my area is caught soon.  I hope that Sherry's family sees justice served and they find strength to get through the grieving process.  I hope that all the runners out there return home safely.  And that they keep on running.

Running 2011

Well, I logged my last run of 2011 this morning and I am happy to say I made it through the year injury-free.  Some other running-related facts of the year, including many "firsts":

• I ran at least some miles in 11 out of 12 months of the year.  That is three more months than ever before.  I can say for a fact that this was the first December that I ever put in a single mile, and I managed about sixty.  Running with Christmas lights lighting my way was definitely a new experience, and not a bad one at all.
• I ran in cold rain, warm rain, and pouring rain, sweltering heat, strong winds, and snow.  I ran when the temps were above 90 and below 20.  I ran on beautifully perfect, low humidity, blue-sky days.  I ran as the sun set and as the sun rose and when the sun was high in the sky.
• I ran over 700 miles and for over 100 hours and burned over 60,000 calories doing so. 
• I ran at the beach in North Carolina.  I ran in Corning, New York.  I ran at a hotel in New Jersey (my only treadmill miles of the year).  I ran in a suburb of Philadelphia.  I ran in Erie, Pennsylvania. 
• I ran two 5K races and I ran my first half-marathon.
• I ran with friends.  I ran with music.  I ran with the Nike+.  I ran with my brand new Garmin watch.
• I ran when I was tired and angry and frustrated and busy.  I ran to feel energized and happy and clear-headed and calm. 
• I ran to stay fit, to stay sane, and to set a good example.  I ran for everyone around me and I ran for me.

It was a big year for me, running-wise, and I am feeling pretty good.  And I am feeling pretty optimistic about running 2012.

This week's highlights

I am unbelievably busy these days.  A lot of great things have been happening, but I haven't had much time to write them down.  So, here is my best recollection of the week's highlights:

• Everly didn't bite, hit, or kick anyone at school, and she didn't prevent any of her friends from taking naps by screaming.  Not that she ever did that or anything.
• Early in the week, when I was telling Cortlan to use his manners and be good (as I do every day as I am dropping him off at school), he said to me, "I will do what is appropriate, Mommy."  Seriously?
• I loved seeing the kids parade around in their costumes with their friends at school.  They got to trick or treat through the school, and Cortlan and his class got to go on a special trip to a local nursing home to sing a few Halloween songs.  (I especially loved that, and he did, too.)

• Thanks to DVR, we got to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.  The holiday movies and shows are always on past my kids' bedtimes, so this is the first year that they will get to see any of them.  I really don't get that show, though, to be honest.  I mean, Snoopy flying around on his doghouse in a war, Charlie Brown only getting rocks in his bag, and the Great Pumpkin never showing up.  If you ask me, it is kind of a downer.  But the kids seemed to enjoy it.
• I ran 7.5 miles on Saturday catching snowflakes on my tongue.  It was my first run in the snow since those early track practices in high school, when we would occasionally see a few of the last snowflakes of the season.  This was some serious snow I was running in - big huge snowflakes with some actually sticking to the grass - and the surprise was that I actually enjoyed it.  My plan this winter is to continue running, but to only run outdoors.  So far so good.
• Our local grocery store really outdid themselves with the Halloween festivities.  They led us trick or treating through the store and gave us free hot cocoa, coffee, and cookies.  They took our picture (we still need to pick it up).  There was a fire truck and a petting zoo, and the kids could paint pumpkins.  Thank goodness the weather was kind of crappy or I imagine it would have been packed.  My two favorite parts: Cortlan asking the lady, "Can I get an extra one for my mom?" and him picking out a special piece of candy just for me, and Everly and I going into the petting zoo, where she fed a little pig out of a bottle all by herself and then chased the rest hollering, "Here piggie!!" hoping to give them some, too.

• Pumpkin carving was fun:

•  And of course, Halloween night is always awesome.  This year, despite the rain, was just as fun as ever. 

Happy Halloween!!

Why I hate sidewalks

I was running through the park one day a while back and even through the music on my headphones I heard someone yell at me from their car window to "try the sidewalk!"  It really pissed me off. Yes, there was a sidewalk I could have been running on.  And yes, I was running on the road.  But the road was PLENTY big enough and I was running so close to the edge that part of my foot was practically on the grass - on the opposite side of the road from the car. 

Though I am a huge proponent of putting sidewalks everywhere in our community (particularly down the half mile stretch of main road that I am forced to run on from my neighborhood to get anywhere else), and I do choose sidewalks over a busy road any day, if I get the chance to safely run on the road, I take it.  Why?

1.  The asphalt road is about two and a half times softer than the concrete sidewalks.  That makes a big difference on your knees and ankles and hips when you are logging many miles.

2.  Sidewalks are often uneven.  And though you may have a ton of reflective gear on so that cars can see you while you are running in the dark, that doesn't mean you can see the road/sidewalk in front of you very well.  Which means you might trip and fall due to that uneven sidewalk.  And then you might be glad it is dark so that there aren't many people able to see you fall.  And you might be glad that you were able to at least get your hands up so that your face didn't hit the ground.  And then you might have to think about whether you should run home to clean your wounds, but you will probably decide to finish the run and shake it off.  And then it might happen that when you are looking for a Band-Aid for your bleeding hand, the only one you find at the moment is a Donald Duck one.  And then your daughter might see it and get a little mad that you took "her" Band Aid.  And after the ensuing "conversation", so you might curse running on the sidewalks even more.




It might happen.

A rainy fall weekend

Despite the rain that hasn't stopped since about 8 AM Saturday morning and the temps that dropped a little too low for my tastes, the weekend was a pretty good one.  At least on a working mom scale.  The highlights:

• Pizza, wine, cookie cake, and chips with the neighbors.  Gotta love Friday night health food and great friends.
• My first October run that I can ever remember.  The best part?  I got my 6.5 miles in just before the rain started on Saturday.
• Our nephew's birthday party at Chuck E Cheese.  Ok, I know some people would lose it if they found out they had to go to Chuck's on a Saturday morning and spend time and money while crazed kids ran around and a large rat occasionally appeared out of nowhere.  But, I actually enjoyed it...from finding my zone playing Shrek pinball (I miss having a pinball machine in my basement like I did when I was growing up) to watching Cort throw the skeeball overhand across two other lanes (seriously, it is hard to believe there aren't more head traumas from skeeball), I have to admit, I enjoyed myself.  And getting to see family was pretty cool, too.
• A shopping trip to Kohl's.  Woo hoo for a 30% off coupon and a running jacket that was on sale...among other sale and clearance items for the fam.  I love a good bargain.
• A four-mile Sunday morning run in the rain and cold.  Why is this a good thing?  Because I did it and now I know I can bring myself to do it again.  I am on my way to easing into the winter runs that I have never before attempted.  (Thanks, in part, to the aforementioned new running jacket.)
• A very cool Heroes and Villains exhibit at the Andy Warhol Museum featuring the comic book art of Alex Ross.  Granted, due to an infringement on nap time, we had to drag Everly out of the place kicking and screaming (literally), but it was fun while it lasted.  And the kids got to silkscreen a tote bag with fun "Bang!" and "Pow!" comic book designs.
• A lazy, rainy, Sunday evening spent removing too-small clothes from the kids' drawers and decorating for fall, topped off with a pot roast dinner.

Perfect.  But that's just my opinion.

The Race Weekend, Part 2: The Race

Sleeping in my own bed may have been nice the night before the race, but at the very least, staying in a hotel forced me to plan for the morning well beforehand.  The alarm went off.  I turned on the coffee pot.  I brushed my teeth and got dressed in my layers that were all ready to go (with my bib already pinned).  I ate half of a chocolate muffin, drank my coffee, checked my ipod and laced up my shoes (with the chip already tied on).  As the kids and my parents still slept peacefully next door, John and I headed out the door at 5:45 AM.

With the race being held so close to the hotel, it was no time at all before I was getting out of the car and making my way down the dark path lit by orange glow sticks toward the sound of music being played near the starting line.  And it was no time at all before the full body shivers began, partly because of the cold air and partly because of nerves.  I had to be there by 6, but my race didn't start until 7:30, after the full marathon and 5K had already begun, leaving me plenty of time to stand in the line for the bathrooms.  Twice.  (Again, nerves.)  Fortunately, my neighbor was there, too, and we got to talk and laugh the time away.  Soon enough, I was lining up at the start.

The gun went off, I started my watch, and I concentrated on my pace, trying hard to heed the advice from so many:  Don't start too fast.  I felt great, but I knew I had to hold back.  There were plenty of miles to go.  When I got to the first water station, I couldn't believe how fast the first mile went.  I looked at my watch: 7:26.  And people were passing me left and right. 

When I began training for this race in April, my training plan perplexed me.  In the plan were written tempo runs, runs that included certain distances at marathon pace, hill sprints, and more.  I had no idea how to figure out what my marathon pace was without ever having run one.  I had no idea at what pace to run for tempo runs when I hadn't run a race since before being injured.  Unlike my high school sprinting days, when I ran as fast as I possibly could for 100 or 200 meters, I realized that this distance running was going to require some thinking and control.  And if it was going to work, I had to have a goal.  I adjusted my goal throughout the training, as I realized of what I was capable.  And not capable.  And when I got to the race day, I had in my head goals in three tiers: what I would be happy with, what I hoped for (which was what I thought I might be able to do on a great day), and what I would love to achieve.  On the pace band that I wore on my wrist was a little better than what I hoped for: 1:45, which was about an 8:01 pace.

So as people passed me through the first couple of miles, I just focused on my music and the sights, and tried to keep my pace.  The second mile came at right around 16:15.  I had slowed a bit too much, so I picked it up and found some people to keep an eye on.  I took my long sleeved shirt off at mile 3.  The sun was just above the horizon over the water to my right.  I tried to take mental pictures as it shone through the trees on such a crisp, beautiful morning.  I looked straight up and couldn't help but to smile.  As I write this almost a week later, the picture is still there.

The miles clipped by.  Water/sports drinks at every mile helped me keep track of time.  As always, I sang along to my tunes, a great play list I had put together specifically for this race.  I tried to keep my voice quiet, though, and did a lot of lip syncing, especially around people who didn't also have earphones.  But, honestly, I was so excited to be running that it was hard to not dance just a little here and there, too.

Near mile 8, I was right on pace.  I had been running near a particular couple for much of the race, and suddenly I heard the guy say "time to go."  At first, I wasn't sure whether he fell back, or if she took off, or if both happened.  But suddenly, I was running ahead of him and she was pulling away from me.  I got out of the trance I had been in for the previous few miles, and refocused.

It was hard, having never before run 13.1 miles, to know how much to have in reserve as mile 10 came along.  I increased my pace ever so slightly.  At mile 11, I finally figured out how to drink from a dixie cup while running without most of it splashing on me or making me nearly choke or drown.  At mile 12, when I still felt great, I knew that it was time to go.  I hit my power song on the ipod, and pushed, with adrenaline rushing through me.  I was nearly there.

The power song ended, one more song came on, and I kept singing...this time perhaps too loud.  The guy that I passed on the left said, "I hate you right now."  I smiled. 

The song ended.  The finish line was almost in sight.  And through my headphones suddenly blared "Hey Diddle, Diddle."  WHAT?!!  Seriously.  I have no idea why, and I can't figure out how.  The song was definitely not on my play list.  But, though pushing the power song again (because I certainly couldn't finish the race with "Hey Diddle, Diddle"), I couldn't help but to run a little faster having been reminded of my kids and how so much I do, including running this race, has so much to do with them.

I approached the finish line, and tried to look for my family.  I couldn't see them, but I could hear them.  "Go Joyce!"  I heard my mom say.  I raised my arms, and seconds later crossed the line, finishing with a time that I loved to achieve.

Almost a week later, I still can't shake the feeling of pride from running this race, and I am not trying to.  I know a lot of people that have run many half marathons, and perhaps some may think I am being a little too dramatic or am making a bigger deal of this than I should, but I am hoping that they know exactly how I feel and can totally relate.  There is just something about setting a goal, working hard for months in preparation, and then achieving or even surpassing that goal.  I enjoyed every moment of this race, wouldn't change a thing, and would totally do it again.

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Here are the results of my first half marathon, September 18, 2011

Time: 1:43:54
Pace: 7:56/mile
Division Place: 4/72
Female Place: 17/440
Overall Place: 97/800

A million thanks from a runner

I have officially run 506.5 miles (or so) since the first week of April, which is when I began training for my first half-marathon.  That race is this coming Sunday, and I have a mere 10 more miles to run until that big 13.1. 

I am so lucky to have many amazing friends that have encouraged and supported me through the training, by doing everything from writing my training program to providing me with playlists to commenting on Facebook to actually running with me.  I am sad though that, due to circumstances beyond anyone's control, the friend with whom I signed up for the race isn't able to run it.  But I will just pretend she is there listening to me breathlessly sing to Ke$ha and Pitbull and Mumford and Sons as I make my way to the finish line, and all will be well.  To be honest, since she lives so far away from me, we weren't ever planning to actually, physically, train together.  And despite the fact that I was hoping to have her there at the race pushing me along, I think that what I needed most was the push to sign up for the race in the first place, and that she did.  And she has encouraged me and answered my annoying, novice questions all summer long.  So for all of that, I thank you, Coach A.  :)  I will miss you on Sunday.

I am also incredibly lucky to have a husband who has been totally willing to work around my somewhat crazy running schedule, especially since the beginning of the school year, when time became very scarce.  The bedtime juggling act combined with trying to get 6-8 mile runs in before it gets too dark has been challenging, but John has fully supported my efforts and goals, and has sometimes nearly pushed me out of the door as I lingered a little too long doing "one last thing" before I left.  I didn't even have to set my alarm to wake at ungodly hours to fit my 12 and 9 mile Saturday runs in the past two weekends.  Thanks, babe.  Love you.

Finally, I must thank my kids for accepting completely that Mommy runs, for respecting and expecting that it is a part of our lives, for encouraging me, for wanting to go to my races, for asking if they can run with me, and for constantly asking me if I am sweaty.  And for giving me the best hugs, even if I am.

Let the countdown begin.