race report: arlington turkey trot

Distance: 3.1 miles
Time: 26:32
Pace: 8:34 miles
Place: 245/1130

Happy belated Thanksgiving! James, Sam, my sister Susan, her friend Diane, and I all ran a Turkey Trot starting in Lyon Park. After seeing my friend Farrokh dressed as a Hare Krishna with two other men at the start, we were off! Well, most of us were...Sam got there ten minutes late and still managed to beat a ton of people. The course was pretty hilly and full of walkers, dogs, and small children, but it was still quite fun to go scooting around Arlington neighborhoods. Afterward, we all went to Silver Diner for coffee, biscuits, and blogidarity.

Catch-Up Post: MCM 2008 (KQB's Version)

It's been over a month since I ran my 2nd MCM (I know, I know, the "more updates to come" has been a long time coming). Since then I've done a couple more races (time trial with the JQUS boys cross-country team and a blogidarity Turkey Trot).

MCM #2 was infnitely better than MCM #1. I came down to D.C. as ready as I could be given the derailing effects of my first two months as a teacher and a knee injury in the Nahant 30K, but still buoyant from a summer of training hard on the Charles River and at CRC track workouts. I felt well-prepared, having learned my lesson after overheating from MCM #1's outfit of UnderArmour, long pants, and a jacket. I came down armed with a suitcase full of tutu, ibuprofen, a phone holder, vanilla Gu, RaceReady shorts and non-chafing sports bra tank top.

JTT's and my joint MCM evite had alerted our friends and family to our running plans, and my parents finally understood how important it was for me that they come out and spectate. The night before, Kristen made me some lovely pasta with sausage and veggies and we caught up while carbo-loading. I woke up bright and early the next day, packed up my stuff, put on an old pair of pants and a sweatshirt, and went with my dad to Rosslyn. I walked to the start line and got there in time to deposit all my stuff at bag check, put on the tutu, and safety pin the tutu to my shorts. I learned an important lesson: do not safety pin shorts to a tutu unless you have already peed. Undoing all that clothing in the port-a-potty was quite traumatic, but not as traumatic as being late to the start in 2005--I absolutely detest being rushed and late at a race start. In spite of all the tutu re-doing, I was still able to meet James at the 4:29-5:00 start pillar. Note to self: line up a half an hour faster than goal time because the first six miles do not thin out whatsoever. Other note to self: RaceReady shorts have a pocket that is perfectly sized for an LG VX8700, which enabled me to find James in the mess of people.

The starting gun went off and it took us about five minutes to get to the actual start line from our place in the crowd. I was so glad to have James to chat with as I ran. Usually I listen to an ipod but I don't like to do that for races. James' cheerfulness kept me going, as did the cheering crowds. Almost bit of the course was lined with proud spectators. I may start the era of TutuGirl--I got so many cheers for my bizarre outfit, and they kept me smiling even though knee pain and fatigue. I first saw my parents near the Spout Run Giant, holding a Go Hoos foam finger and happily cheering. I hugged them both and said "see you on the Mall!" as James and I scooted off. I only started feeling pain around mile 15-16--the same pain from the Nahant 30K, but I took four ibuprofens and decided to finish the race.

By then we had made it through Hains Point (thankfully much earlier in the course) and sung Livin on a Prayer at 13.1 miles. We made it to mile 19 together, seeing my parents and siblings near the National Mall as well as James' pals holding awesome signs for him. I saw old runner friends brandishing beer while dressed as cops and robbers near mile 22--that put a smile on my face as the weather got hotter and my enthusiasm started to flag. Miles 22-26 were definitely the hardest. I was so tempted to walk, but started hearing my old cross-country coach saying "anything's better than a walk" in my head. I unexpectedly saw Janet and Jay cheering in matching Chris Cooley jerseys at mile 25, for which I am forever grateful. Route 110 felt much lonelier than Hains Point, and their smiling faces got my spirits back up. Soo and AQB appeared again in mile 26, and AQB ran with me until the beginning of the Iwo Jima ascent.

The trek up the last hill felt different than the first time. Back in 2005 I'd felt incredibly happy just to finish and sprinted up the last bit of it, bursting into tears of joy at the end. This year, I could only muster up the sprinting for the last 50 yards or so, and only cried a little bit at the end, but I felt infinitely prouder. Next year, I'm going for 4:15!

A Catch-up Post: MCM 2008

Disappointment spills over everything sometimes. It's like a dark ink that just permeates your favorite shirt. Even if it really is just a small stain, it seems magnified and enormously obnoxious everytime you glance down and you just hope the ink isn't as indelible as it may be. With that lengthy metaphor, I introduce my personally disappointing fourth Marine Corps Marathon post.

Now, I did in fact finish the run, but it was certainly longer than what I felt I should have achieved or could have achieved. My final time was 4:46:41, more than Oprah. My PR was in Cleveland earlier in May, at 4:42:43, and in 2006 when I last ran MCM it was a 4:59. So, I was hoping to do better than my last set PR, and with more training, I think I should have bested the last PR and beat Oprah.

But, beyond that disappointment, I of course have to acknowledge the wonderful support of friends and the great changes to the race course this year. I had the pleasure of running with fellow blogger KQB this year as well. First, the weather conditions were great. It was a bit chilly in the morning in the high 40s, and warming up into the 50s when the race started at 8:00. In my previous years of running this race, runners were fortunate to have Daylight Savings Time end, so though the start time was 8:00 AM, it still felt like 9:00 AM. The most striking feature of the early part of the race course was perhaps the fog. As you run out towards Spout Run Parkway in Arlington towards the Key Bridge and Washington, you just see this ground-level fog blanketing everything. Roosevelt Island was like a mystical island covered in wispy cotton.

The best course-change this year was perhaps the shifting of the dreaded Hains Point. Previously this had been in 16-18 mile portion of the race, which is when crowd support and when heavy winds are least appreciated. This year, this portion of the race was shifted earlier with the half-marathon mark at the furthest eastern point of the landmass. Now, instead the tough miles leading up to crossing the 14th Street Bridge back into Virginia were on the crowded and noisy National Mall and near the Capitol, which were much appreciated by the runners and their support crowds.

It was around mile 22 while approaching the end that I hit my wall. Leg cramps were threatening and did happen finally slowing me down. This is where I was most disappointed in myself. I certainly had fun and appreciated the support from my friends, but again, it was just myself to blame. So, with best hopes, for the next year, I look to work on strength training and building up a better training schedule and sticking to it for the next year. And in the meantime, I'm working on washing that shirt.

Live blawrging: Running on the mind

Running is a remnant of my childhood that, like a Star Wars collection for the middle-aged fanatic, will follow me wherever I go. When I do it, I am often transported back to an original state of being a young immigrant in suburban America. I first joined the track team in high school, in a state of teen angst that you could only surpass in the height of the 1980s. Meanwhile, running's also a source of strength and power. Also, I tend to think in haphazard angles, like a shopper trying to find her way through the aisles at Costco.

you're always on my mind

as i start to run again, this blog is helping me feel like i'm part of a virtual track team, minus the loser feeling of coming in last amongst my peers. there's no dirty looks and silent begrudgement for bringing down the liver donation capacity of the human race, due to my fattiness. you're always on my mind, friends.

Ho-hum.

I haven’t posted lately because was afraid of dominating the discussion with not-so-interesting posts. Also, I took a small leave of absence to lick my wounds over my failure to run the Fleet Week Half-Marathon. My training had been going so well! But I learned a valuable lesson or two about travel and budgeting my time before race day. My sleep schedule was so screwed up I felt like hell by race time. I think it was the best decision for my body not to run, but I still feel like a quitter.

Since then, my foot is better than ever, I’ve had great runs, and I have increased my mileage. I’m shooting for about thirty miles a week (up from the seventeen to twenty-four I was tending toward over the summer and early fall), and I am taking my shorter runs up to five to seven miles each (lately, I have been running five miles almost everyday, which is up from doing three to five earlier this year) and my long runs up to twelve miles on the tow path (was running eight miles of the path in the spring and ten there this fall). I am struggling with a little bit of weight gain (maybe it’s muscle, yeah, which is some 18% denser than fat, but I mostly blame the Costco sheet cakes my mother has been buying and sharing). I am also adapting to the colder weather (last year I ran wholly on the treadmill while it was cold).

Today was the coldest run I’ve had in years- about 35 degrees when I left- with the wind chill cutting it to about 26. But my newly cobbled together winter gear did the trick (the running jacket I picked up at Target was fantastic- light, yet still kept the wind out. Its hood will be perfect when I need it- it zips right up to my chin!). I definitely need to spend a little money on some gloves or mittens that resist getting soggy. I got fed up and took mine off with a mile left to go, but that may not fly when it gets colder.

Today, Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” and then N.E.R.D.’s “She Wants to Move” (BPM 115) got me up the first hill. Not the most inspired choices, I admit, but they WORKED.

P.S. What do we think/do about honking? I used to get it only occasionally, but lately it has been at least twice every run. Maybe since there are fewer runners out there in the cold, I’m taking the honks that might have been distributed more evenly? I can’t tell if it’s menacing or supposed to be a compliment. Mostly it makes me worry my tights have split or that someone is about to run me over. For fun, honkers be damned, I am plotting to buy obnoxiously red track tights* (the shiny kind for under HS track uniforms) and wear those, if only because we don’t sell purple ones.

*image from insport.com

Leadership from behind

If the authors of this blog were to run together in real life, I'd be the leader that closes the pack. Like an exclamation point, we'd be a clump of runners, and then there would be me, separated and behind. I probably have more weight to lose, and perhaps the least likely to take up modern dance (or ballet) as an alternative sport. I'm the least likely, I bet, to go to the gym, or even to resist eating an entire set of Kit Kat candy bar, a cookie and a brownie in the course of a six-hour, sit-down, catered meeting.

And yet I believe that I can beat my speeds- through consistent practice, and by setting up social situations that will goad me into engaging in one of the simplest practices of physical fitness I can commit to and enjoy.

so behind

and sorely tempted to quit. I haven't even written a race report from Sept 14, let alone the one from my jubilant 2nd MCM.

Most of my motivation is lost. Laziness = weight gain + associated malaise. Sometimes I just don't care anymore.

How do you take care of the soles of your feet?

Just wondering if all you asphalt-pounding runners exfoliate the skin on the bottom of your feet. Are your soles calloused like the fingertips of a guitar player, or soft as the palm of a blue-blood who's never done dishes by hand?

Hey, I ran a mile today

Hi everyone:

I think it's great that people here run marathons. I like to think it rubbed off in a mild way because I ran a good 20-30 minutes this morning. I liked the crisp air that burned through my lungs. I could feel my body resisting after about 5 minutes of running. So I was grateful to have a buddy joining me, to keep me going.

The motivation was a badly angled photo of my growing chin line. I soon found myself making plans to meet up with people for weekend morning jogs. Saturday's run led me to a world of golden-flecked and burning red trees, hugging a lake that mirrored them and the clear blue sky. The view was worth millions of dollars.

I hope to restart my weekend run-blogs.

Tchus!