I DID IT!

I did it!  I raced the GO! St. Louis Marathon on Sunday.  I am a marathoner!!  The weather was not exactly ideal but it was good enough.  The crowds were wonderful.  The volunteers were top-notch.  And the camaraderie among the runners was just as I'd hoped.  If you just want the Cliff Notes version, that's it.  If you love race day minutiae, however, read on.  I've got it for you in spades:

PRE-RACE
My dear BRF, who was not running due to injury, offered to drive me to the starting line, and I greatly appreciated her calming voice and peaceful spirit in the early morning hours.  I was sad that she wouldn't be by my side on the course, but I looked forward to seeing her, along with my family, at various points on the course as my dedicated cheering section.

Waiting around before the race, I felt more calm than I expected.  I chatted with a few folks, but I mostly sat quietly on a park bench waiting for the race to start.  I'd packed my pre-race fuel (I love to eat a peanut butter graham cracker and banana immediately before a long run) and ate it just before I entered the starting corral.  Again, in the corral, I felt calm.  I took in the sight of the huge field of runners, focused on my breath, and waited for my turn to go.

The view in my starting corral; my mantras for the day;
pre-race shoe selfie.

EARLY MILES
The wave start was a bit haphazard.  We neatly lined up in our corrals, but the officials did not put much distance between the corrals.  The elites took off on their own, and then the rest of us more or less went out in two massive herds.  Not at all the start I was expecting, but the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd kept me at an easy pace for the early miles, an essential part of my race strategy and one that I thought would be hard given race day excitement.

The crowd remained very thick throughout the early part of the race.  Our first mile took us through downtown St. Louis and then onto the first of two bridges.  The bridge trek was fun, though the running lanes on the first bridge were quite narrow, and my pace stayed lower than I expected.  We crossed over into East St. Louis, IL, and I was pleasantly surprised by the crowd support.  Many residents were out cheering, and the atmosphere was very upbeat.

The only thing dampening the Illinois crowd was the rain that began to fall.  Rain?!  It wasn't supposed to rain!  The forecast showed 0% chance of rain that morning.  Yet here I was, at mile 2.5 in a sprinkling rain.  Fortunately, the shower was very short-lived; it was done by the time we crossed the second bridge heading back to downtown St. Louis.

My incredible support crew on race day.  Not pictured are the photographers: my dad and older sister.
The Little Lady is also absent from the pictures but she was surely there
high fiving lots of runners along with her sister :)

Running on the second bridge, I learned the phenomenon of mechanical resonance.  I suddenly felt unsteady on my feet and momentarily worried that something was wrong with my electrolytes or hydration.  Then I realized that everyone else felt it too: the bridge was bouncing from the feet of so many runners.  Like the rain, the sensation did not last too long, but it was a bit unsettling.  The traffic on the second bridge seemed even thicker, and I worked hard to keep a lane so I could pass slower runners on the uphill section.

By mile 4, we were finishing up the second bridge and heading towards the north part of the city.  We heard a great live band at mile 5, and I saw my cheering section there, too!  I waved and blew kisses at them, feeling strong and happy.  My pace was right about where I wanted it, and though the field was still dense, I felt like I was in a good groove.

Elevation and pace chart for my race.
Clearly, I started taking more frequent (and slower!) walk breaks near the end,
but my running pace stayed remarkably consistent throughout.

Mile 7 took us back to the starting area with an absolutely bustling crowd!  High energy and wonderful enthusiasm.  By mile 8, I had finally found my way out of the thick group of runners.  I felt like I had some breathing room and could set my pace a bit more easily.  I saw my husband, kids, and other sister at mile 9 and collected some quick hugs before continuing towards the Anheuser Busch Brewery.

The fans near the brewery and in Soulard were spectacular, as always.  I saw a good friend at mile 10 and gave high fives to my kids at mile 11 as I headed back up Broadway towards downtown.  Miles 11 and 12 included lots of uphills, but I kept telling myself "kill the hill!" as I charged and passed people left and right.  In mile 12, I found myself next to a woman who was running her 100th (!!) marathon.  I stayed in her general area for almost 10 miles, and she and her posse were a wonderful boost to my spirits.

MIDDLE MILES
At mile 13, as the half marathoners were upping their efforts towards their finish line, I had to remind myself to stay focused.  I felt myself getting swept up in the energy of the finish line crowd, and I had to work hard to maintain a steady pace.  Once the half marathoners turned, the course became a ghost town.  We headed (uphill!) into a more industrial part of town, the fans were sparse, and the runners felt few and far between.  As I neared mile 15, my left knee started complaining, and I hit an unexpectedly hard mental period.  I saw my parents/sister/BRF right around 15 and told them that it was getting tough.  My sister reminded me that my only goal was to finish, a timely reminder that sharpened my focus.

Still churning out industrial-area miles, I saw my husband/kids/sister again around 17 and stopped for a moment to talk to them.  I knew I was close to Forest Park, so I felt mentally renewed as I ran away from them.  Entering Forest Park was like finding an oasis in a desert.  The crowds were energetic, music blasted, and I fell into step with a few more runners.  I cruised through familiar sections of the park for several miles feeling tired but content.  When I saw my parents/sister/BRF at mile 20, however, my commitment to the cause was flagging.  I paused to eat some banana and drink water and told them that I really just wanted to sit down.  They pushed me away, wisely saying that sitting was a terrible idea.

A summary of the day: running strong; crossing the finish line;
legs up the tree post-race; my crew in matching shirts.

My sister and BRF offered to run with me for a bit; I asked if we could walk instead.  We walked for almost half a mile, and though I can hardly recall what they said, their energetic and encouraging voices kept me going.  When they peeled off, I told myself that I'd start running again in 20 more steps.  Nearing the end of this walk break, a kind runner asked if I was ok.  "You look strong!" she told me.  "Pump your arms.  You can do this!"  Too tired to disagree, I followed her directions and resumed my running stride.

We remained in the park through mile 22, and I kept up a reasonable pace.  I stopped to walk at each water stop, with my walking pace becoming slower and slower each time, but I always returned to my run and told myself I only had to run until the next water table.  I saw my husband/kids/sister again at mile 23, and my husband ran and walked with me for about half a mile.  He kept trying to push the pace, but I assured him that I was moving as fast as possible.  He pointed out that I only had a measly 3 miles to go, the equivalent of a simple neighborhood loop that I've run hundreds of times.  I told him that I wasn't sure I cared to finish, but he called my bluff.  "Go get it!" he told me.  "You've got this!"

THE FINAL PUSH
After parting ways, I headed back into the industrial stretch this time with tired legs and a headwind.  Mile 24 found me running uphill with the wind in my face.  Instead of feeling defeated, however, I pushed my pace on the hill and told myself that this is just how things happen for me.  I don't get the easy path; things don't just fall into my lap.  Instead, I work hard, fight through tough conditions, and get the job done.  I walked (slowly!) through the water stop at mile 25 and told myself that I had to push hard to the end.  No more walking until I crossed that finish line.

I felt mentally recharged in that final 1.2 miles.  My knee ached, my hamstrings were fatigued, my toes hurt, but I was going to finish strong!  I turned up the pace even higher at mile 26, not sure that I could maintain it.  I charged down the final straightaway, sensing rather than actually seeing the crowd, hearing their cheers but with eyes solely focused on the finish line.

This photo captures it all: joy, pride, exhaustion, and the unbelievable
feeling that I set out to do something hard and I did it!!

And then I crossed it!  Upright and smiling, just as I had hoped.  Under 5 hours, as I had dreamed.  Under 4:40, the goal I set for myself in mile 24 when I needed motivation to run rather than walk.  I crossed in a time of 4:38:33.  The feelings that flooded in that moment were unlike anything I could have expected.  Elation, fatigue, invincibility, strength, pride, amazement jumbled together in a crazy mishmash in my brain.

I saw my family a few minutes after I finished, and all I could say was "I f@#*ing did it!"  I apologized to my oh-so-innocent mother for the strong language, but nothing else could capture my thoughts.

I did it!  I f@#*ing did it.

Saved by the Run

Since training for my October half ended, I've been a bit relaxed in my weekend runs.  I've gotten them in, but they've happened in the late afternoon rather than the early morning, which is beyond odd for me.  Because I'm not operating under the strict rigidity of a training plan, I'm less motivated to wake up in the early morning hours on a weekend.  But by mid-day, I'm jonesing for a run, needing the endorphins to keep me humming along through the demands of family life.

Yesterday, I planned to get up early because my husband was going to be gone at a day-long training session.  Knowing that underslept and over-sugared post-Halloween kids would test my patience, it would have been wise for me to crank out some miles before he left for the day.  But I'm not always wise.  My alarm sounded; I silenced it without moving an inch off my pillow.  And I regretted that decision for hours...

We survived our day, but we all probably would have been happier had I gone for my run that morning.  They were predictably excitable; I was inexcusably irritable; we were all tired.  By the time my husband got home, I was desperate for the solitude of a run.  "Go ahead with dinner if they get hungry," I told him as I bolted for the door.  "I hope to be gone for a while."

The setting sun on a beautiful fall afternoon.
A much-needed reminder that life is good.

I started out at an easy pace with no clear destination in mind.  Listening to my favorite podcast and breathing the fresh autumn air, I was relaxed and peaceful for the first time all day.  My legs felt strong from the outset, and I tried to push the pace each mile.  As I cruised through the surrounding neighborhoods - at an impressive speed considering that I was largely fueled by Halloween candy - I felt alive and free.  The little things that were stressful and overwhelming earlier in the day melted away until they became utterly meaningless.

Six miles later, I returned home feeling like a new person.  All the same stresses, frustrations, and imperfections were still waiting for me, but I could tackle them with renewed energy.  The run helped put everything back into perspective and remind me that life is good.  Not perfect but good.

Do your workouts ever help turn your day around?

Strava: GPS app and running community

During my (brief) running career, I've used several different apps to log my miles and track my workouts.  I began using MapMyRun because I liked the mapping tool on its website.  As a new runner in 2011, I didn't own a smartphone, so I carefully plotted routes using the MapMyRun desktop site.  I loved looking at my maps and watching the calendar function fill up with my mileage.

Once I upgraded to a humble smartphone (or as my sister called it: a phone that got by with a C average), I wasn't thrilled with the functionality of the MapMyRun app.  Its interface seemed clunky, and though I still loved the desktop version, the app wasn't cutting it for me.  At my husband's suggestion, I switched to RunKeeper, which worked wonderfully as a GPS app.  It had a slick, streamlined interface, good voice feedback, and my husband and I could link up as friends through the app.  I liked the encouragement and accountability of connecting with his activities in the app.  But RunKeeper's website was seriously lacking...

Not completely thrilled with either of my options, I was intrigued when I heard about Strava.  I tentatively took it out on a test run last December and ran down my laundry list of wants for a GPS app:

Clean interface?  Check

Regular voice cues (at mileage or time intervals)?  Check

Social component?  Check

Website with maps and calendar showing progress?  Check

Without even trying, I accidentally stumbled into my ideal running app.  The interface is extremely intuitive, making it easy to start and stop the app even with a carb-starved brain at the end of a long run.  The app has a built-in autopause function that takes into account the time I spend stopped at traffic lights, which is pretty slick.  Strava's website provides endless amounts of data (especially if you upgrade to a premium account), and nerdy, Type-A runner in me loves to check and recheck my stats.  I could even switch the voice from the annoying Rita to a reassuring Aussie (I've named him Al).

And the social aspect of Strava is absolutely unparalleled.  I've found dozens of mother runners to follow and cheer on.  Watching their accomplishments and encouraging them to push their limits has been phenomenally inspirational.  Likewise, their encouragement has kept me going on days that my internal motivation was lacking.  I'm reluctant to admit how much time I've devoted to studying my friends' stats, giving out kudos, and posting motivational/inspirational/silly comments on their workouts.  Checking in with the ladies on Strava has become one of my favorite parts of the day.

I love Strava and plan to stick around, but I must admit that it is not without fault.  Much like the vanity sizing at most clothing retailers, I think Strava gives me a false sense of my own speed.  When my BRF and I run together, her with a Garmin and me with Al the Strava Aussie, my distance usually comes out longer and my pace faster.  Admittedly, GPS is not a perfect science.  My iPhone, which I use for the Strava app, was not built as a GPS device and therefore the data is only as good as the device.

Al the Aussie and I have logged many miles together, and I plan to take him along for many more.  Do you have a preferred GPS app?  What are your must-have features for running apps?

Buns of Steel

In mid-May, a mother runner friend mentioned that she was embarking on a 30-day squat challenge.  Intrigued, I asked for more details.  She sent me the plan along with the sage advice: "Don't look ahead."  Wise words that I surely couldn't heed as I immediately scanned down to day 30.  175 squats?!  Even broken into sets, that number sounded impossibly huge.

The mother runners and I plunged headlong into the challenge, keeping each other accountable via Twitter.  One of my favorite parts of the challenge was giggling over the funny-only-to-us hashtags we came up with over the course of the month.  Beginning with #bunsofsteel and ranging into #squatarama and #squatamnesia, I would sometimes squat just so I could chat with them about it.  Who knew that witty friends and clever Twitter banter could make even squats seem tolerable?

My sister also joined in the fun, squatting with me at Innsbrook and on the banks of the Black River during our family's annual trip to the lodge.  We were squatting in the boonies, or as she quipped, saSQUATching.  Between my sister and my squatting mother runner friends, the month passed quickly, and I stayed surprisingly well on track.  I missed a day or two, but I was able to make up the missed squats and ultimately finished the challenge.  

As I ran the hills at Innsbrook this past weekend, I noticed the benefits of my regular squatting.  Thanks to my stronger quads, glutes, and low abs, the monstrous hills didn't seem quite so daunting.  I felt powerful as I charged each hill, and I still had energy left in the tank at the end of my 3-mile run.  The new challenge, of course, is to maintain this strength now that the 30 days have expired.  I plan to do 50 squats on my non-running days; let's see if I can stick to this plan as well as I stuck to the challenge...  Any volunteers to keep me accountable?

Why I Run: To Set (and achieve!) Goals

I run to give my life structure and clearly-defined goals.  After the rigidity and predictability of academic life and the obvious goals that go along with growing up, I was shocked to find myself floundering in the adult world with few goals in sight.  I'd finished my master's degree, gotten married, bought a house, found a job in my field, and started a family.  As far as adult goals are concerned, I didn't know what else I might hope to achieve.  And I was surprised to find that without goals, I felt aimless and ungrounded.

Enter running.  Running has become a perfect way for me to set goals, both large and small, and feel the sense of accomplishment that comes along with meeting them.  My goals have included finishing the Couch to 5k program, running my first 5k, gradually extending the distance of my long run, running a 10k, consistently running 4 days per week, adding in a day of cross-training, and most recently, completing a 10-mile run.  I love the built-in goal setting that comes with running and the tremendous feeling of pride as I accomplish new milestones.

Setting goals and hitting the mark.  It's what we mother runners do.

Back in the Saddle

I ran for the first time today since July 3rd, and though it wasn't effortless and it certainly wasn't pretty, I am happy to be back.  We spent the last 10 days in sunny Florida where I did some pool running, but mentally and physically, I needed a complete break from road running.

During today's run, which had to be on the treadmill, my legs felt strained from underuse over the past several weeks, and I had to use every ounce of willpower to complete the miles I had planned.  (Full disclosure: a promise of post-run Cheetos and Diet Coke may also have helped motivate me to finish.)

While I appreciate my treadmill and all that it does for me, the hamster wheel concept rings true.

I think I will take a break from my running log for a bit.  I need to reconnect with my love of running and not feel encumbered by counting my weekly miles and studying my average heart rate.  As a self-declared nerd, I love analyzing those statistics, but for the moment, I think I need to run with my heart rather than my brain.  I'm looking forward to running my local outdoor routes this weekend.  How I have missed those roads!