By the rumble in my tummy, I know I'm back in training. I'm always famished during the day when I'm running!
Today we did 500m reps at our 1k time, allowing a 30sec rest in between sets. Sounds complicated? I'll break it down.
My 1k rep at this stage is likely 5.30-6.00min pace (sob!) which means I could run 1k in 5 1/2 to 6min. So, I had to run at that pace for 500m up the track. At whatever time I got to the end, I would have until the timer hit 3min30sec to recover. So if I ran up the track in 2min30sec, I had a 60sec recovery, and so forth.
My initial speed wasn't the issue, but my overall strength & endurance was. I managed to make every lap around the 5.45 pace mark, but it was more of a struggle than I'd like to admit!
Still, it was a good feeling to have hunger gnawing at my stomach throughout the day, reminding me that I was a good girl who exercised. Less than 7 weeks to go until Whitsundays!!! The countdown is ON!
Total time: 42.32min
Total distance: 7.30km
Avg pace (including warm-up/cool down): 5.49min/km
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Back in the Groove
Well, after a week of recovering from that sinus infection post-Gold Coast, I decided I needed to prepare really well for yesterday's 10k Park2Park Race as it has lots of hills. So with my family in Australia, I had three solid weeks (four, if you count the one I was sick) of "tapering" and "carb loading". So really, I should have been super fit and prepared for the Ipswich race on Sunday, right?
Ha! Was it a challenge. It was alos a big wake-up call. After my family left, I couldn't even think of getting back into the training regime I had been in. Why get up at 4.50am for a hardcore run when I can sleep in until whenever I want?
And that, friends, is why you sign up for races! I had holed up in my cozy house long enough. Time to get back into the groove of running & training. I am, after all, running an intense 29k trail run in about 7 weeks time.
And the Ipswich Race was the kick in the butt I needed.
Total time: 1.06.21
Total distance: 10k
Total elevation: 134m (I was sure this had to be some ridiculous high number. But no, it's just that I'm unfit!)
Avg speed: 6.36min/km
(This picture taken of me is at 5k which was the halfway mark and the end of the first loop. One day I will be fast enough that it will look like I'm running in photos - not going for a weird walk. Do my hands really look like I'm boxing when I run?)
Yes, it was slow, it was painful. I held a good pace for the first 3k (around 5.50) until the second hill hit and my energy fatigued. Then in the last 1k of the race I saw the 5kers flooding towards me (they had started about 45min after me, but the course was two loops so when I hit the 9k mark - or the 4k mark of my second loop - they were nearing the 2k mark of the loop).
I made the decision that I wanted to see the famous Australian runner Steve Moneghetti win the 5k race - as surely he would. I certainly didn't want him passing me! So I picked up speed until I felt sick, and pushed that pace (around 4.30) through the final 600m. I nearly passed out at the end. My loving teammates offered me water and encouraging words. The first thing on my mind was air, and once I'd had enough of it that my brain stopped swirling I was able to appreciate their kindness.
Fitness test: Failed!
Time to get serious with this training business.
Ha! Was it a challenge. It was alos a big wake-up call. After my family left, I couldn't even think of getting back into the training regime I had been in. Why get up at 4.50am for a hardcore run when I can sleep in until whenever I want?
And that, friends, is why you sign up for races! I had holed up in my cozy house long enough. Time to get back into the groove of running & training. I am, after all, running an intense 29k trail run in about 7 weeks time.
And the Ipswich Race was the kick in the butt I needed.
Total time: 1.06.21
Total distance: 10k
Total elevation: 134m (I was sure this had to be some ridiculous high number. But no, it's just that I'm unfit!)
Avg speed: 6.36min/km
(This picture taken of me is at 5k which was the halfway mark and the end of the first loop. One day I will be fast enough that it will look like I'm running in photos - not going for a weird walk. Do my hands really look like I'm boxing when I run?)
Yes, it was slow, it was painful. I held a good pace for the first 3k (around 5.50) until the second hill hit and my energy fatigued. Then in the last 1k of the race I saw the 5kers flooding towards me (they had started about 45min after me, but the course was two loops so when I hit the 9k mark - or the 4k mark of my second loop - they were nearing the 2k mark of the loop).
I made the decision that I wanted to see the famous Australian runner Steve Moneghetti win the 5k race - as surely he would. I certainly didn't want him passing me! So I picked up speed until I felt sick, and pushed that pace (around 4.30) through the final 600m. I nearly passed out at the end. My loving teammates offered me water and encouraging words. The first thing on my mind was air, and once I'd had enough of it that my brain stopped swirling I was able to appreciate their kindness.
Fitness test: Failed!
Time to get serious with this training business.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Gold Coast Half Marathon 2012
I ran 21.1km 6 days after being diagnosed with a sinus infection. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't fun. But I did it.
The weather was gorgeous and I had the best cheering squad I have ever had come to my race - my parents. Yep, Mom & Dad flew halfway around the world to watch this race. They had never seen me race previously and I had been only too anxious to show them how far I'd come...what I actually showed them was not intentional!
I loaded up on cough medicine and cough drops the morning of the race, arriving super early to avoid any cat-fights for pre-race bathroom privileges. A little too early actually. As my mom asked, "where are the other racers?" My answer: "probably still in bed. Clearly smarter than me."
(In the picture of some of the half marathon crew, I'm in the green hat towards the left).
But I survived the dark, brisk morning as more racers and fellow teammates trickled towards the start line. The half marathon crew had a good 1 hour head start on the marathoners, but there were still tons of supporters out to see us off. The gun went off at 6am to more than 10,000 half marathon runners!
My friends and I started near the front - it took us only 4 minutes to cross the start line.
Consuming some cough drops, I stuck with plan to run with a friend at a 5.45 pace to cross us over the finish line at just under 2hours. I kept it up for 5k, but I knew long before that I wouldn't last. I was hoping I could...but at 5k I let her get ahead. At 7k, two cough drops and 1 handkerchief later my goal changed: let me not stop. If I stopped, I would never start again. So at 7k I decided to forget pace and focus on keeping those legs moving.
At 9k the blister started to form on my right foot. I never get blisters, but in my pre-race haste I tied my shoe too tightly. All I needed to do was loosen it and I'd be fine...but then I would have to stop to loosen it. At one point, I slowed to a 7-min pace crawl, but I kept the legs moving. I decided that I may not end with a fast time...but I would end smiling! And one thing that helped me through was the knowledge that I wasn't running for me today. I was running for a beautiful woman who faced some truly vicious battles in her life and whose time with us was cut too short. I was running in support of those friends and family she left behind.
I passed my teammates cheering from the sidelines with 500m to go, high fiving them along the way.
I saw my parents in the stands less than 20m from the finish line and blew them a kiss, smiling as much as I could through my pain, exhaustion, and disappointment. Crossing the line at 2.19.08 (a personal worst), I don't think there is much else I can say about that race. My dreams of running a personal best for my parents had been dashed from Monday morning when I woke up feeling so sick, so I can't say it was a surprise. I have never felt so badly before a race nor felt so wrecked after one! Try explaining "this isn't typical" to my parents when they saw my blistered feet and the mere act of sitting down was agony for three days afterwards!
But enough about this...the marathon was the biggest event of the day! And on they came! Whatever struggles and personal demons I had faced were nothing compared to what those first time marathoners (or umpteenth time marathoners) battled over the course. I had numerous teammates that ran it. They thought to run it together but that didn't pan out as expected...and yet none ran alone.
In a show of true friendship, faster runners buddied up with slower runners to ensure that everyone had support throughout the 42.2km of bitumen. One of my teammates wasn't running as well as hoped and had fallen far behind. Two amazing runners stayed with her the whole way, and not one of us waiting on the sidelines thought to leave before she had finished. A few of us even went up to meet her just past the 41k mark to walk with her on a few of those final steps to cheer her to the end of her first marathon (in the picture, I'm second from the left). Yes, I did cry as we walked the course with her, chanting her name and cheering as loud as we could. Because it isn't always about the destination. It is about the journey and the courage and determination we summon to put one foot in front of another when the way seems endless and our bodies and minds are beyond exhausted.
It is about knowing that we don't run this race alone.
The weather was gorgeous and I had the best cheering squad I have ever had come to my race - my parents. Yep, Mom & Dad flew halfway around the world to watch this race. They had never seen me race previously and I had been only too anxious to show them how far I'd come...what I actually showed them was not intentional!
I loaded up on cough medicine and cough drops the morning of the race, arriving super early to avoid any cat-fights for pre-race bathroom privileges. A little too early actually. As my mom asked, "where are the other racers?" My answer: "probably still in bed. Clearly smarter than me."
But I survived the dark, brisk morning as more racers and fellow teammates trickled towards the start line. The half marathon crew had a good 1 hour head start on the marathoners, but there were still tons of supporters out to see us off. The gun went off at 6am to more than 10,000 half marathon runners!
My friends and I started near the front - it took us only 4 minutes to cross the start line.
Consuming some cough drops, I stuck with plan to run with a friend at a 5.45 pace to cross us over the finish line at just under 2hours. I kept it up for 5k, but I knew long before that I wouldn't last. I was hoping I could...but at 5k I let her get ahead. At 7k, two cough drops and 1 handkerchief later my goal changed: let me not stop. If I stopped, I would never start again. So at 7k I decided to forget pace and focus on keeping those legs moving.
At 9k the blister started to form on my right foot. I never get blisters, but in my pre-race haste I tied my shoe too tightly. All I needed to do was loosen it and I'd be fine...but then I would have to stop to loosen it. At one point, I slowed to a 7-min pace crawl, but I kept the legs moving. I decided that I may not end with a fast time...but I would end smiling! And one thing that helped me through was the knowledge that I wasn't running for me today. I was running for a beautiful woman who faced some truly vicious battles in her life and whose time with us was cut too short. I was running in support of those friends and family she left behind.
I passed my teammates cheering from the sidelines with 500m to go, high fiving them along the way.
I saw my parents in the stands less than 20m from the finish line and blew them a kiss, smiling as much as I could through my pain, exhaustion, and disappointment. Crossing the line at 2.19.08 (a personal worst), I don't think there is much else I can say about that race. My dreams of running a personal best for my parents had been dashed from Monday morning when I woke up feeling so sick, so I can't say it was a surprise. I have never felt so badly before a race nor felt so wrecked after one! Try explaining "this isn't typical" to my parents when they saw my blistered feet and the mere act of sitting down was agony for three days afterwards!
But enough about this...the marathon was the biggest event of the day! And on they came! Whatever struggles and personal demons I had faced were nothing compared to what those first time marathoners (or umpteenth time marathoners) battled over the course. I had numerous teammates that ran it. They thought to run it together but that didn't pan out as expected...and yet none ran alone.
In a show of true friendship, faster runners buddied up with slower runners to ensure that everyone had support throughout the 42.2km of bitumen. One of my teammates wasn't running as well as hoped and had fallen far behind. Two amazing runners stayed with her the whole way, and not one of us waiting on the sidelines thought to leave before she had finished. A few of us even went up to meet her just past the 41k mark to walk with her on a few of those final steps to cheer her to the end of her first marathon (in the picture, I'm second from the left). Yes, I did cry as we walked the course with her, chanting her name and cheering as loud as we could. Because it isn't always about the destination. It is about the journey and the courage and determination we summon to put one foot in front of another when the way seems endless and our bodies and minds are beyond exhausted.It is about knowing that we don't run this race alone.
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