Race Report : Manchester City Half Marathon

I wish I could go back in time and tell my 4 years ago self, or even my 1 year ago self, that I would one day run a 13.1 mile race. Past self would have thought that was SUCH a funny joke.
I remember when my loftiest goal was to run a 5k. When I spent the summer of 2004 struggling half a mile around the lake before a stubborn side stitch always sent me home. It was a goal so seemingly unattainable at the time. So I always quit running, over and over again.

Yet here I was, on Sunday, running the Manchester City Half Marathon
Having no race-day pickup actually worked out pretty well. I went to the expo on Saturday to get my number and chip and race shirt. Unfortunately, they were out of all but Large and XL shirt, which would have been fine if the shirts weren't nice, but they were really nice long-sleeved half-zip tech shirts with a subtle logo. I ended up giving mine to my brother, even though he never comes to see me run because that would mean he had to get up in the morning.

Yesterday I woke up rested at 6am (thank you, Standard Time), had some oatmeal, and put on way too many layers. I always make this mistake, but I suppose I'm still a beginner. Anyway, I dressed head to toe in brown spandex, ensuring that I looked like a giant poop. Great. I also had a stocking cap, gloves, and my awesome new Nathan fannypack thingo to carry my Gu and iPod (not for listening, just for timing since I don't have a fancy watch).
After guzzling down a cup of coffee and several bottles of water, I was quite concerned to see the shortage of portapotties and the long lines 15 minutes before race start. Still, runners are nothing if not fast, even in the bathroom, so we all managed to make it to the start and the race started on time at 8:50.
The lack of shirts in my size and the toilet sitch made me slightly worried that this would be disorganized disaster of a race, but I was very wrong. The volunteers and police officers were AWESOME, especially as the course was not closed to traffic and they had to maintain the delicate balance of letting the runners pass unfettered while keeping the fine drivers of ManchVegas from running any of us over in a fit of road rage. Excellent job to all.

Anyway, the course. It was scenic, both urban & suburban, and J.C. of A., they were NOT KIDDING about the hills. OW.
I was surprised at the section of the course that was entirely trails, in Livingston park. That was unexpected. We veered off through the woods and around a small lake for several minutes near mile 6. The pack had dispersed enough that nobody was on anyone else's heels and while I spent most of the time making sure I didn't trip over an unearthed tree root and biff it, I enjoyed the break from pavement.

I started to struggle around mile 9, and by 10 I was running entirely on autopilot. There was a giant, sloping, winding hill right around mile 8 and it pretty much zapped me. I shuffled through mile 9 and when I saw the marker for 10 I knew I was in uncharted territory and started to make some sort of lame Star Trek joke about boldly going where I hadn't gone before, and then giggling to myself, and then realizing I was starting to lose my mind. There were a couple short hills and then by mile 11 it was pretty much all straight or downhill from there. After I passed marker 11, I felt like I had a vast desert to cross before the end, but before I knew it I was passing marker 12, and realized that I was going to finish this thing, and started to cry a little.
I kicked it up a tiny bit near the finish, but the truth is, I had nothing left. I didn't cross the finish line shuffling, but I didn't cross it sprinting either.
My mom was there with her camera, and she gave me a high five. I ripped my chip off my shoe and shuffled over to get my medal (!).
I posted a 2:15ish gun time. I don't know if they're going to post chip times, but mine was definitely faster. Even with the gun time, I managed to average 10:20 per mile, despite all the uphills and the trail portion, so I'm okay with that. I didn't stop running.

Results

After some free chili, a warm bath, and a nap, I headed back to Manch to meet up with the bro at the Strangebrew. His best friend was having an engagement party and it was $2.50 beer night. Gotta love a place that will just pour you an entire pint of 8% Russian Imperial Stout (that just happens to be brewed in your small hometown) for $2.50, and also has free popcorn. Ah, the land of the free.
I also got to overhear my brother tell everyone in earshot that his sister had run a half marathon, which was neat.

Looking forward (as I started to do around mile 7), I don't think a full marathon is in the cards for me, at least not yet. I'd do another half, for sure. I think I'm going to spend the winter trying to get faster and stronger and see how much better I can come out on the other side.

Boo!

Much as I expected, after almost an entire week of not running (*tear*), my hip feels good as new. However, I also feel sluggish and cranky. Possibly because I've been eating myself into a sugar coma pretty much every day this week. Halloween week was not the best week to try and eat healthy. Especially since I'm in charge of buying the candy for my office, and I take that responsibility very seriously.

Anyway, speaking of candy, I love it so much I'm dressing up as it for Halloween. My friend Jenna & I are being candy corn and indian corn (I'm the candy corn).
We're having a Halloween party tonight in the new apartment, and everyone seems really excited about it. As they should be, it's going to be awesome.
My roommate is being the Reading Rainbow (green dress, blue tights, rainbow belt, rainbow bangles, red necklace, purple shoes, a copy of Frankenstein in her pocket, and a pin with a picture of Levar Burton on it). My brother is being Party Fowl - he's going to dress up like a chicken and wear an obnoxious slogan tee, sunglasses indoors, man jewelry, maybe some glowsticks. I told him he should also spill a beer on himself (get it?).

Anyway, I'm restraining myself this weekend and will try my best to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'm heading home, dad is going to take me to the race expo in Manch-Vegas and then I'm going to hit the hay early before the race on Sunday!
I'm not feeling all that confident about it, to tell you the truth, especially since I haven't run this week. But at least I'm not limping and snarking around like Dr. Gregory House, M.D. and wishing that I too had a sweet pimp cane.
Anyway, it's going to be a beautiful day and a fun race and at the end of it I'm going to get a friggin' medal so I guess I can't complain. And after that I'm going to drink $2 microbrew drafts at Strangebrew, so I definitely can't complain.

Happy Halloween and happy running!

Thanks, Lance.

I've been hearing a lot of those "Congratulations, that was your longest workout yet!" celebrity encouragements from my iPod for the last couple weeks because, well, every Sunday has been my longest run yet. Today it was Lance Armstrong congratulating me, last week it was Joan Benoit Samuelsen. Fun.
I ran 10 miles today, my last long run before next Sunday's half marathon. It was a perfect, sunny, breezy day. Across the bridge and downtown, through the Common, down and around the Back Bay Fens, and back home. I followed that with a 10 minute soak in a bathtub full of cold water and bags of ice, while wearing a bathing suit, stocking cap, knee socks and a fleece jacket. And cursing liberally to myself through clenched teeth. After a giant bowl of pasta and a short nap, my body still feels like it has given up on me. It's not a nice feeling to be pushing through a run like this thinking that you won't be able to finish it and certainly won't be able to finish the half marathon without stopping. It's defeatist and I am exhausted and have to edit and rewrite a paper tonight. I don't want to end up just doing it tomorrow at work because I know that just perpetuates bad habits.

I read up on ball-of-foot pain on CoolRunning.com and at the internet's suggestion, cut some pads out of a foam insole and taped them behind the balls of my feet. The right one was perfectly placed and made a world of difference, while the left one could have used some adjustment. I think I'm going to try and MacGuyver them up a little bit more. Having perfect feet for dancing and perfect feet for running are two very different things.

The strategy for this coming week is to eat well and take care of myself. First order of business - eat breakfast. I don't eat enough good things in general, because I have a very light appetite. Combined with a killer sweet tooth and high metabolism, that means most of my caloric intake is comprised of skittles, cupcakes, and pumpkin spice lattes. Because those things are delicious and make me happy. However, they don't make my body happy. First order of business - eat breakfast. As much as the idea of eating in the morning makes me queasy, I've got to teach myself to do it. Next up, more vegetables, lean protein, whole grains. I can do that for a week. And maybe if I can do it for a week, I can do it for another one!

Hipper than thou

There is no denying at this point that there is something very wrong with my body. The pain has settled in my right hip, the same pain that I felt last week after not preparing for or stretching after the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women. It had loosened up after this weekend's hike, but after last night's strugglicious 9 miles, it is back and worse than ever. I don't know what to do. I even did a short yoga routine with plenty of hip openers last night in the kitchen post-run. I can barely walk. The half marathon is in two weeks. I just want to ignore this until it's over and then figure out the next step, whether it be a massage or PT or foam rollering or ANYTHING BUT STOPPING.
The main issue for me is that I don't think I'm going to be able to finish the race. I pushed through the last three miles last night by sheer force of will, singing along to "All These Things That I've Done" through clenched teeth. My cardiovascular fitness is awesome, it's just that by mile 7 or so my legs stop working. My feet don't want to pick up off the ground, pains shoot through my knees, my feet ache, my arches fall. I don't want to entertain the idea that I may not be "built like a runner". My tiny, delicate, high arched feet might be causing these problems, but I don't know. I don't know how to fix it. I'm sick of buying new shoes every month or so, but my beautiful new Asics Nimbus 9s just aren't cutting it - my feet are swimming around in the 7.5 size, though the 7s squished my toes. Maybe I need narrow shoes. I don't know.
I'm witnessing and appreciating the affects a 9 mile run has on my mind and general sense of well-being and I don't want to lose that just because my body is being a party pooper.

The run itself was pretty fantastic. That loop around Pleasure Bay is mighty convenient, because it's about 2-3 miles but feels like nothing. It's so beautiful, even at night, and if I need to squeeze in an emergency long run, I can just loop around it twice and continue down the shore. I didn't stop once, and got up to what I'd probably estimate was a sub-9 minute mile several times. I still can't get over how beautiful Southie is at night. Looking at the city in the distance is kind of like a memory summary of my entire three years here, and then I see exactly how far I've come and how much further I have yet to go. I'm excited.

Cranky

It's been exactly a week since the 10k, meaning exactly a week since my last run. If I don't go for a run soon, I seriously am going to lose my mind. I've been taking it easy for the past week because of some aches & pains that I didn't want to take too lightly. Of course, by "taking it easy" I mean "spending two hours hiking a mountain that was so steep and precariously covered in loose rocks that I had to climb up parts of it on all fours and slide down other parts on my bum."
But still, it's no substitute for a good run, and I missed my scheduled 9-miler because I was stuck in the middle of a Mexico-truck extravaganza for five hours coming home from New York. Also missed my two scheduled 5-milers and scheduled 3-miler. This is not a good way to prepare for my first half-marathon.
RAR.

I signed up for this.

Note to self : Stretch. Seriously.
Saturday I ran an easy 9 miles, much to my surprise. On Monday, I ran the Tufts 10k for Women in 1:00:16 (a 9:42 pace, whoo!).
Neither of those times did I stretch, and now my right hip is out of joint or something and I am limping around all over the place.
Ow.
And I just signed up for a half-marathon in two weeks. Oh boy.

A touch of crazy

Reading all these posts about "taper madness", I've come to realize there's a bit of constant crazy in every runner, isn't there? As I approach my first full year of hardish-core running, the longest commitment I've ever made to anything remotely unpleasant (including college and boyfriends), I'm becoming more conscious of the root of that madness - the fear of losing this strange compulsion I've come to love and honestly depend on, so much.
Training has been patchy lately. I've not been getting in my two 5-milers per week, and last week I missed my long run. I plan on making that up on Monday when I do the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women.
I've also been a little sick, but I managed to bang out five miles on Tuesday night. By the end of it the only thing running was my nose (har har har - sorry, I had to go there) and I felt like I was going to collapse, but at least it happened.
What I noticed though, was something I'd been ragingly upset about all weekend and probably through the end of last week doesn't upset me as much any more since that run. It's starting to build up again, but since I know I'll be doing an 8 or 9 miler on Saturday, it's not such a big deal. Weird.
At the same time, there's this terror in the back of my mind any time I feel less than invincible, that something is going to stop me from running. Forever. That's the madness. Every time there's a cramp, or a twinge in my leg, or the sniffles, I freak out a little bit. It's going to stop me from running, and then my quitaholic nature is just going to take over and decide to not start back up again.
I've felt for the past 8 months that I've been carrying on a relay race of my entire life. Every day I run I carry the baton further, and I'm a different person every time.
Now that's crazy for ya. But I'll take it.