Wrapping Up

Summer in the Valley of the Sun is the same and different from everywhere else in the country.  In most areas summer marks the season of vacation, of travel, of time off from school and more time with family.  In Arizona especially, people look for a reason to abandon the heat for a week or a long weekend.  For those of us without children and with full time jobs here in Arizona, there is less vacation and more of a "hibernation".  Either hibernation inside an air-conditioned building or as a triathlete, lots of long solo hours of training since everyone else is indoors.  Summer is about putting your head down and getting the training done in the hot, endlessly sunny conditions.  There are no races to speak of because no one wants to race when it's over 100 degrees at 7 am.  So between June and September everyone goes into hiding.  Myself included.  Only this summer, I've been holed up in my own little world trying to balance work and training and sleep.  I have been working my ass off, and loving every second of the training, pushing myself to new limits.

As summer wraps up and I am a mere 3 days away from the start of the fall racing season, I can look back over the last few months and see the progress I've made.  It's been a busy summer.  It seems like forever ago, when in reality it was 9 weeks ago when I was running across the Golden Gate Bridge.  And 6 weeks since I ran through the woods in Tahoe.  4 weeks since I was in Canada crewing for Ultraman.  And the week after Ultraman I raced the Mountain Man Half IM in Flagstaff.  Rather than recount every detail of Mountain Man, I thought I would share the recap I gave my coach in my workout log:

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For starters, I have been feeling really good physically.  Nothing more than what I would consider normal soreness which is great given my last 4 weeks of bonus activities.  The last night in Canada I only got 4 hours of sleep because the awards banquet lasted until after 11 pm and I had an early flight .... I know better for next time.  That set me up for a rough week because I was only getting 6-7 hours of sleep for the rest of the week.  

So waking up on Sunday morning, my brain felt like it was ripped out of a deep sleep (I'm usually always awake when my alarm goes off no matter how early).  I immediately felt nauseated and a little headache from not enough sleep.  The nausea lasted until I started the swim.  At one point in transition, I was kinda hoping I would get sick so I'd have an excuse not to race.  I'm glad that I didn't because it turned out to be a GREAT training day for me. 

Mountain Man is a really small event, and I'm generally trying to compete more with the men than the women, especially when there's not a lot of fast girls that show up.  AF told me in the morning that it would be my race to lose. 

I took off fast in the swim to gain a little separation from the group.  DB said by the first turn buoy (maybe 300 yrds?) I had two body lengths lead over JP (I think you met her?)  in second, and then dropped her shortly after the turn.  She was 2 minutes back coming out of the water.  I didn't push the swim after the first turn buoy, knowing I'd want a little oxygen in my legs when I hit the bike.  I was happy to come out of the water in 29:23 since I know I could have swum a lot harder, and there were only two boys who swam faster.  And I was 2 minutes faster than last year. 

On the bike, I pushed as much of the flats/ downhills as I could.  On the uphills, I switched to an easy gear to spin but kept my effort consistent.  I ended up passing a lot of guys on the ups.  We had some horrific crosswinds in the final 15 or so miles.  Normally wind is my kryptonite, but I just remembered what you told me months ago- and I was seriously talking to myself out loud... Keep my rear in the saddle, and my weight in the aero bars....  By focusing on that I didn't get freaked out, and was able to stay aero and just go with it.  Came off the bike in about 2:56, 5 minutes faster than last year.

It's really hard to compare this run course to other half im's.  Clearly, I ran no where near my "normal" half IM run pace for something like Oceanside.  But this course is a lot harder, and at elevation so I try to just compare to previous years.  I have always blown up on this run course.  At 1.5 miles in, there is a 1.5 mile switchback that you climb, turn around and descend, and then the final 9 miles are slightly rolling hills (no crazy hills, if you were just out for an easy run you might not even notice that you're going uphill).  This year, I made a conscious effort not to go out crazy in the first mile and half.  I got my run legs under me, took the hill comfortably and then when I got to the top, I picked up the effort a little.  When I hit the final 9 miles, I was pretty much spot on 9 minute miles for the rest of the course, which for me is a HUGE improvement in pacing.  I looked at my splits from last year, and in the final 5 miles I lost 10-15 seconds per mile.  This year, even when I was feeling bad, I was still able to push myself and hold onto my pace.  I think I was a little slower than last year overall pace, but the course was also a half mile longer than last year and I haven't looked at the pace on my garmin yet so not exactly sure.  But this is the BEST I've ever run on this course performance-wise.  And I was reeling in guys every mile.  (Ran 2:02 for 13.6 miles),  finished 16th out of 92 people:  5:32:07 (this is decent for me on this course, not my fastest.)

So... although I'm happy with the win, I'm most happy about my improvements from last year on the swim/ bike and how I did on the run.  I think it really showed me what is going to be required of me on the run course at ironman, and that when I feel like shit, I CAN still hold onto that effort.  There were so many times when I wanted to stop and walk and I refused to let myself do that.  Plus, I felt like my nutrition/ hydration plan on the bike really contributed to how I felt on the run - I came off the bike feeling fantastic (nutrition/ hydration-wise)  and just held onto that through the run-- staying diligent with my plan.  

First place Eagle trophy!  My teammate got the Bear for the men's title. 

And as much as I wanted another bear trophy, I decided that the eagle was more appropriate.  The eagle is a bird of prey, and from now on, I am a predator.  I will be the hunter until I have captured my prey.  

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The next weekend I biked Mt. Lemmon with a friend and finally stopped to take a photo at the sign I've wanted a pic of for the last 3 years:

Ha!  Middle Bear!  That's me!

Made a few upgrades to my bike! 

New Powertap!  Thanks Wheelbuilder.com!

Don't mind the sleeping kitten...

And who doesn't love kittens??  My babies are 19 weeks old.  They are finished with their kitten vaccines, and breezed through their neuters with flying colors.  From here on out it's cuddling, sleeping, eating, and entertaining everyone around them!

Blackie and Moo birdwatching.

Looking forward to my first race of the season in a few days, I am relaxed and confident.  I believe in my training, I believe in my coach and I believe in the work we've done over the last 8 months.  I know exactly what it will take for me to achieve my goal.  In a word:  Everything.  It will take absolutely every ounce of energy, every bit of focus, and every last thread of effort for me to do what my heart so desires.  I am not the most talented, but I like to think I have that little something extra.  The sheer will to accomplish the impossible.  

In my mind I know that when I signed on with Team HPB in January, I committed to a 2-3 year process to achieve my goal.  But in my heart I want it so badly it hurts.  The only other time I have felt this way about a goal was in 2009 when I was running to qualify for my first Boston Marathon.  Only this time, I don't control the outcome.  For Boston, there is a time goal.  I hit the time, I qualify.  For this race (affectionately known in my circle as "That Which Shall Not Be Named"), it is all dependent on who shows up on race day.  First place punches the golden ticket.  Everyone else stands in line and hopes there is an extra slot available at the end of the day.  If I give everything I have and execute the best race of my life, it still might not be good enough.  That is the toughest pill to swallow.  

I am committed to the process regardless of what happens on Sunday and am staying focused on the long term plan.  Sunday marks the 5 year anniversary of my engagement to my wonderful husband.  He has supported me all summer (year!) long and has driven me to and from both races in Flagstaff (I hate driving!!), been an awesome cheerleader and sherpa, and has encouraged me through all my ups and downs.  He was with me in Napa when I qualified for Boston, he's run Boston with me twice, and he knows the deepest desires of my heart.  I know on Sunday he will be with me from start to finish.  Regardless of my placement when I cross the finish line on Sunday, we will be celebrating.          

  

Vegas Marathon Run-Through Wedding Ceremony.  Where else would we get married?  

Processing: The Boston Marathon 2013

Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe.  Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe.  With my earplugs in, I blocked out all sound save the sound of my breath released into the water.  It felt good to move my sore muscles and I allowed my body to be buoyed by the cool water, weightless, the way my soul longed to feel.  Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe.  Counting laps I could clear my mind of everything else.  If only for a moment.    

It was meant to be a perfect day.  Perfect weather forecast.  Wonderful city.  The biggest marathon on the planet if you're talking hype and prestige.  We were just so happy to be there and be part of it.  The morning started out like any other race morning.  We got up, did our business, and scurried out of the hotel to walk the mile or so to Boston Common to catch the shuttle bus to the start line.  On our way, we passed what would be our finish line a few short hours later. 

Finish line at first morning light.  Monday, April 15, 2013

It was such a beautiful site.  I'm superstitious in that I won't walk across the finish line until I cross it at the end of the race, but you can see other athletes walking up close to get a good look.  Everyone was anticipating a perfect race.

We shuttled to Athlete's Village 26 miles away in Hopkinton, MA.  Here, you wait for a couple of hours until it's your turn to stage at the start line.  With 27,000 runners on some narrow country streets, they send us all off in waves beginning with the elite women at 9:30 AM, and ending with the final wave at 10:40 AM.  My wave, wave 2, was set to run at 10:20 AM.  My husband qualified with a faster time, but elected to run with me for fun, so he started side by side with me in Corral 6 in the second wave of runners. 

My friend CL was running her very first Boston Marathon, having qualified 16 months earlier after enduring a personal tragedy that motivated her to a very fast PR at the 2012 PF Chang's RNR Marathon.  We were able to track her down in Athlete's Village and agreed to give her a shout out when we passed her on course. 

Athlete's Village

Despite the cool morning forecast, by the time race start neared, we were warming up nicely.  The BAA does an incredible job with Athlete's Village, providing bagels, water, coffee, Gatorade, PowerBars, etc that might be necessary during the wait.  Shortly before 10 AM, we began our walk to the start line about 3/4 mile away.  By the time we reached our corral, we had a few short moments and then we were off. 

The first 10k of the course are extremely crowded and straight downhill.  Unlike other marathons, which tend to clear out after the first mile or so, at Boston you are running with other athletes who are equally as fast as you are, so it is literally elbow to elbow for at least 12 miles.  After that, it's still very crowded but you're able to maneuver a little bit easier.  Being in the middle of Ironman training, my legs definitely didn't feel great, but I just wanted to 'run it how I felt it' which is exactly what I did. 

During the race, I had mixed emotions.  I felt amazing for the first 5k-10k, enjoying the beautiful morning and the downhill.  At 10 miles in, I really began to feel fatigue in my legs (not surprising, since I had just biked 100 miles in training 6 days prior).   At the halfway, the Wellesley girls were a big lift.  My favorite signs were:  "Kiss me, it's my first marathon!", and "Stop chasing your dream, I'm right here!"  These girls are wonderful to carry on this tradition year after year, and I hope they know how much we look forward to that mile of the course.  Beyond Wellesley, it's a few short miles to the infamous Newton hills, which is sort of a misnomer since a majority of the course is rolling hills.  But there are some pretty good climbs between 17-21 and then you start to dream of the finish line. 

I always get choked up when the Citgo sign comes into view around mile 24.  I start to reflect on how lucky I am to be here, how much hard work it took to qualify and how much this race means to me.  I wonder if I will ever qualify again, or will this be my last chance to run Boston?  I will try, forever, I will try.  I was a little sad the last couple of miles, remembering 2010 when my family was there.  When you make the right hand turn onto Hereford, we could see them on the corner near the firehouse cheering and screaming for us.  Knowing that I wouldn't see their faces, see their love and support, made me a little sad. 

We turned left onto Boyleston and took in the view of the finish line banner that I had photographed several hours earlier.  I smiled and ran with joy in my heart across the finish line, hand in hand with my husband.  I grabbed some water and allowed the volunteers to usher us through.  I cried when the volunteer draped the medal around my neck.  This accomplishment, above so many others, means the world to me. 

We made our way slowly, along with thousands of other runners, through the finish corral.  When we reached the end, where the gear bags were located, my husband sat down on the curb while I went to retrieve my bag.  When I got back to where he was sitting, I helped him up and we continued toward the exit, retrieving his bag on the way.  We put our warm clothes back on, as we were shivering by now with the wind chilling our sweat-soaked clothes. 

We made our way into the streets and began to observe people with frantic looks on their faces.  Everywhere.  We heard sirens.  5, 10 emergency vehicles streamed by heading toward the finish line.  "Maybe someone had a heart attack", I suggested to my husband with a shrug.  We didn't know.  Dozens of sirens.  Police everywhere.  And then we saw the big black armoured vehicle.  I looked at him with a sick feeling in my stomach.  "That's the bomb squad", I said, emotions sinking.  He grabbed my hand and began to pull me faster through the crowds. 

We were trying to move in the direction of our hotel, but the area was being quickly evacuated.  Police were shouting and directing everyone away.  Traffic was everywhere, but going nowhere.  I paused to ask someone what happened.  She told me that all she knew was that there were two explosions.  I sent a quick text to my mom.  It read, "Just want you to know we are safe.  I'll call later."  Knowing the marathon was televised live, I knew it would be a matter of seconds before it was all over the news.  I'm so thankful that I texted those short words, her reply came "now you have me curious, anything happen?" but it was too late.  Our cell service had been cut off.  I knew that she would soon find out, and she would know that we were OK.  I hated the thought of them being worried. 

We made it back to our hotel, the lobby packed with runners and families who had been hustled into the nearest building in an effort to clear the streets.  We hurried up to our room and turned on the news.  We lay on the bed, stunned, watching the events unfold.  18 minutes.  We had passed that area 18 minutes before the first bomb.  I was numb.  In shock.  We lay there for an hour, or more, just processing.  Finally, I got up to shower.  I needed food.  We needed water. 

We went down to the bar in the hotel lobby.  3 years ago, we celebrated there with beer and pizza.  Today it was like a war zone.  People everywhere, all the tables full, people sitting on the floor still wrapped in mylar blankets.  The staff was overwhelmed.  My husband walked up to place our order, observed the chaos and offered to step behind the bar to help.  The bartender, bravely smiled, and then burst into tears.  We drank a couple of beers and ate some food.  Unable to use phone service, we posted updates on Facebook and watched to make sure our friends all checked in as OK.

I am not a fan of Facebook.  I have dismissed it routinely as being a waste of time and energy.  Today, I witnessed the power of social media.  We were able, in rapid fashion, to get messages to friends and family around the world, letting them know our status.  We were able to receive emotional support from people who loved us and were thankful we were safe.  We were able to get in contact with friends who were also running- making sure they were safe.  I was thankful, on that day, for the ability to communicate so quickly with so many people. 

After a few hours, cell service returned and we began to receive calls from the newspapers back in Arizona wanting to hear our perspectives.  It's certainly not as glamorous or as exciting as everyone wants to portray.  It was all very confusing, and we felt disoriented and alone.  Later in the evening, when the lockdown had been lifted, we wandered outside of our hotel.  There were police and SWAT everywhere.  We literally could walk across the street to the Sheraton, or nowhere.  So we wandered through the Sheraton and then back to our room.  My mind was in overload.  I couldn't think.  I couldn't sleep.  I just lay there.  Trying to process.  Looking out our window, we watched police pace the streets 7 stories below. 

In the morning we wanted to get out of Boston, leave this nightmare behind.  Our flight was scheduled for 7:30 AM.  We rose at 4 AM, called a cab and walked a few blocks outside the restricted zone in order to catch the ride to the airport.  Security was efficient despite the long lines.  We boarded our flight and tried to sleep the hour or so to Newark.  By the time we reached Newark, media was catching up with us.  My husband did two more phone interviews with newspapers from his home town in Ohio.  We had a very long flight to Arizona, but it was nice to detune, not listen to constant news updates and watch the same video footage over and over again.  I read my Kindle and tried to sleep. 

Once we landed, the frenzy continued.  There were reporters outside the airport, stopping everyone in Boston marathon gear on the way to our cars.  We got into the car and received another phone call from a valley newspaper.  Then a TV station called for an interview.  She wanted to meet us at Cadence Running Company to do an interview for the evening news.  It's great publicity for the store so I couldn't say no, but really I wanted to burst into tears.  All I wanted was a hot shower, and to crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head. 

We met the newspeople, and did the interview, sharing our plan to donate 10% of our sales this week to the relief funds in Boston.  We were inspired that morning by Endurance Rehab, our PT office, who promised to donate $5 for everyone who showed up wearing a race T-shirt.  We wanted to do something good, see something positive.  So that was our idea, to share what we have with those who have lost.  I also am feeling called to run a marathon in the near future, raising money for the Challenged Athletes Foundation.  CAF helps to support people who are disabled, by helping them to pursue an active lifestyle.  I have watched many challenged athletes finish marathons, and Ironman events.  Some with double-leg prosthetics.  And given the number of runners' family members who lost limbs in the senseless violence on Monday, I want to recognize the challenge that they are now facing adapting to a new lifestyle. 

The number one question I've been asked since Monday, would I run the Boston Marathon again?  My answer:  unequivocally, heart and soul, absolutely YES.  What happened on Monday is not Boston.  Nor is it the Boston Marathon, nor the Boston Athletic Association.  It is the work of a sociopath who just needs to be placed 6 feet under.  On top of that, I have made peace with death in a manner of speaking.  As a triathlete, every day that I get on my bicycle and hit the roads with the sun on my face and the breeze on my skin, I am taking my life in my hands.  There have been too many friends who have been hit by cars and injured, or killed.  This is a risk that I am aware of and will do everything in my power to avoid.  But I know that when my time is up, my time is up.  I want to die knowing that I lived life to the very fullest.  Living in fear, and not venturing out or enjoying public sporting events, is not a life lived.  This is my passion, my joy, my life.  No one will stop me from living my dream.

My husband's medal, on top of the headlines in Tuesday's paper.

My heart aches.  My mind is foggy.  I feel numb.  I'm tired of talking about it.  I desperately want to be hugged, tightly.  I want the FBI to find whoever was behind this and do to them what we did a few short months ago to the mastermind of 9-11.  Whether this is international, or home brewed, I don't care.  No more publicity.  No more media.  It's that simple.  And then, just like marathon runners after a long race, the city of Boston can rest, recuperate, and rebuild.  Stronger than ever.

Revenge is.... sweet!

Revenge is a dish best served cold.  True.  But it's also sweet, so it must be kinda like my post-race chocolate shake. 

I don't really feel like hashing out every step of the 26.2 miles that I ran this morning.  I ran.  I ran fast.  It hurt.  I'll skim through the highlights:

*Race:  IMS Arizona Marathon, Buckeye to Glendale, AZ.
*The race was extremely well organized.  It's small size probably contributes to the flawless logistics.  I hopped on the shuttle bus which took us from the finish to the start line, arriving at 6 am.  They had a warm, indoor holding location for us so we didn't stand outside freezing.  (And I didn't have to pay extra for this!!) 
*Relatively promptly, the RD made a few announcements, a beautiful young girl sang the National Anthem, and at 7:04 am we were off and running.
*The course was flat, but very nice.  I'm not big on flat.  But we wound through some rural countryside for a short time and then through many beautiful neighborhoods in the west valley. 
*My goal was to hold 8 minute miles or faster through mile 20.  I made it through 18 at that pace and then began the inevitable slide.  But I felt decent.  I didn't let my head get in the way of my running.
*At mile 24, my husband popped out of the brush to run with me the last 2 miles.  It was so nice to have him there to distract me from the pain.  He had biked from our house to the finish line to meet me.  His encouraging words helped in a desperate moment. 
*I finished crossing the line in 3:32:28ish (waiting on official timing, but this was my Garmin time).

I didn't tell more than a handful of people (my husband, my PT, a friend who guessed what I was getting revenge at...) that I was running this race.  (In my defense, it was posted the entire time on my blog's event timeline...)  Mostly, I didn't want to disappoint anyone besides myself if things didn't go as planned.  And I had no idea how the race was going to pan out.  After a disappointing performance at PF Chang's RNR AZ Marathon, I wasn't in the mood to talk about racing, I didn't want any well wishes.  Not because I don't like well wishes, but because I didn't want any more pressure than that which I was already putting on myself. 

I am happy that the race is over.  I'm beyond ecstatic that I achieved my secondary goal.  (Primary goal was sub 3:30, secondary goal was to BQ with > 5 minute cushion, tertiary goal was BQ.)  It kinda feels surreal.  I had thought about this for so long, and sometimes I wonder if that's what gets me in trouble.  I had already planned on going back to Boston in 2013, I took for granted the amount of work that it takes to get there.  I won't make that mistake again.

I'm trying not to hold a grudge against RNR AZ.  As my husband pointed out, each time I've raced it and dropped out, I've come back within 8 weeks to have a PR performance.  I can't be upset about that.  And it's true.  But I did feel like I had some revenge to take out on today's race.  And I exacted that revenge with the precision of a sniper. 

I would like to take a moment (since this is my space to do what I choose) to thank a couple of people.  My husband is relentlessly positive and has undying faith in me, even when I don't believe in myself.  I have spent six weeks questioning if I would ever run a BQ time again.  He has never wavered.  Even when I kissed him goodbye this morning, through his sleepy haze he mumbled something about seeing me between 3:25-3:35. 

And secondly, my physical therapist at Endurance Rehabilitation.  He was worked on me weekly for over a year.  I was not born to be an athlete, but with his help I am strong and have learned about injury prevention.  About 3 weeks after RNR AZ, I popped the question.... so, you think I could try another marathon in 2 weeks?  At that point, I'd not run more than 13 miles for a long run, and hadn't attempted anything involving a hill.  He assured me that I could.  I know I could not do what I do, time and time again, without his help.  So thank you, Nate and Endurance Rehab, for keeping me running.  Literally. 

So now I will sit on pins and needles for the next 7 months until I know for sure that my time was fast enough to secure me a spot in Boston.  Based on this years times, I should be OK.... but I won't assume that I am.  I hope and pray that I will be on the start line in Hopkinton in April 2013.  And this time around, I will run it like it deserves to be run.  All out.