The Obviously Outstanding Okanagan Half

This was the least fit I've ever been for a half marathon. But on the bright side, one of the healthiest as well!
The day started out great. The weather was warm - much warmer than my nerves initially realized.

Shoe laces double knotted...check! Geared up and ready to go! Or so we thought...

Fortunately amongst all the people crammed into the starting crowd, I spotted my dad holding up the race posters I had made earlier with a friend. So my sis and I squeezed over to him and quickly delayered. For myself, it was a simple matter of unzipping my jacket and passing it over.

While my sister discretely swaps over to cooler layers at the race start, my mom decides this is the optimum time for a photo. Really, Mom? Really?

 Not forgetting the gorgeous scenery at the start line

 And a special statue to commemorate Ogopogo, seen here ready to kick the Loch Ness Monster's butt.

The gun went off and I new just what to do. THIS time... THIS time I would be following my race plan and not jettying it out the window in the first few hundred metres.

My plan was simple and more humble than my normal race plans. But unlike in other races, going in to this one I had no delusions about my level of fitness and didn't even plan to try hit a sub-2hr time. Instead, I thought that maybe, just maybe - with good weather, a flat course, my speedy sister at my side and a strong commitment to those elusive "negative splits" - maybe I could make a PB.

You see, my previous record was June 2011 on the Doomben course, when I ran it in 2.05.28. Doing all my math, that worked out to about 5.55min/km.

Feeling strong and optimistic the first 50m in. Only 21.05km to go!

Thus, my race plan was as follows:
1-11k: Run between a 5.55-6.00min/km pacek. (12k is usually where I burn up and give out...or is that burn out and give up?).
Divide the next part of the course into 2x 5k runs. At each 5k interval, aim to improve the speed by just a little bit.
12-16km: 5.50-5.55min/km
17-21k: 5.45-5.50min/km.

With these times, I would get both my unremmittant A1-Goal of running a PB, and my newly established A2-Goal of running negative splits!

Humble [compared to all my previous half marathon race goals], but doable. I hoped!

And what was my B-Goal, you may ask? That was to run a sub-2h10min.

But remember I wasn't running this alone! However, my sister's goal - running without stopping - was a perfect one for her first half marathon, and super achievable since she could run circles around me at any race any distance any day of the week.

 Still smiling at the 10k mark. I even have the energy to ward off off invisible ninja's with a Ninja-chop wave.

 Even in a cast my mom still came out with clappers to cheer.

Off we went into our second loop (the race did a semi-figure 8, so at least we didn't have to do the same lap twice). The second lap was even prettier than the first, which was a nice bonus.

From the start, my sister had been like a horse going to corral and I had to keep reigning her back in. Some fellow Running Room gals passed us and off she galloped. "Woah, there!" I called out. "We're going a little too fast."
Heather was trusting me to the timing/pacing, so she pulled back. For a time. Until the next person passed us (and we were passed a lot in those first 7k, even though we had deliberately hung back a respectable distance at the starting gate). In the meantime, I had discovered this cool setting with my fancy watch. For years I'd been using this watch and I never knew it had a "lap pace" option.
What's a lap pace option, you ask? Why, it shows you your predicted/expected pace for that lap. And as it so happens, my laps were set to 1km intervals. So instead of watching my GPS go ballistic trying to configure my exact pace at any given time, it would calmly tell me if I were to finish my current km within the target time frame.

Those of you who know all this already are probably rolling your eyes. But for me, it was a revelation! I had always been doing mental math in my head ("okay, so I've just run 17minutes 22seconds and my watch says I've hit 3kms. So that would mean that my average pace right now is...which means that I if I maintain this pace I will finish the race in...).

Only this time it was mindless.

But I digress.

Because not long after this sign at 10k...

...we hit this sign at 13.75k...

 

...Okay, I lied. There was no sign at 13.75k. These are just random scenery shots from the starting area of our course.

But 13.75k was memorable for me. Why is that? Simply, it is the point on the race when I got tired.

Just over 1/3 of the course left to go...Visions of a fast PB time on the clock as I crossed the finish line danced around in my mind, fighting with the little demons telling me to stop, rest, catch your breath. And most prominently, you can't do this. Just give up.

My enthusiastic waves to volunteers and supporters became wrist twitches I doubt anyone noticed. My smile turned into a snarl as I sucked in air. Upon previous agreement, Heather kept on talking while I occasionally grunted in response.

One thought stayed strong in my mind, trying to quash the little demon telling me to give up: you are SO CLOSE to that PB! You CAN'T give up now! This is what you have been training for. How grumpy would you be if you gave up SO CLOSE to the finish?

So then I did my inward focussing: I told myself that if I acted like I wasn't going to make it, then I wasn't going to make it. I used every trick I knew how:

>>I mantra'd. Fast arms, fast feet... Steady breath, strong legs...
>>I did mental math. (If I drop down to a 6min pace right now when there are 4k's left to go, what will my finishing time be?). Fear of not making it drove me on.
>>I sang. (Thanks, Shane, for showing me that huffing out a silent version of "Mary Had a Little Lamb" helps me control my breathing.) And let me tell you, Mary had lots of little lambs chasing me on that homeward stretch.

So how did we do, in the end?
1-11k split times (goal 5.55-6.00): 5.55 / 5.56 / 5.56 / 5.53 / 5.56 / 5.53 / 5.55 / 5.56 / 5.57 / 5.51 / 5.53
12-16k split times (goal 5.50-5.55): 5.47 / 5.47 / 5.49 / 5.52 / 5.43
17-21k split times (goal 5.45-5.0): 5.35 / 5.40 / 5.39 / 5.42 / 5.33

Gun time: 2.04.20
Net time: 2.03.36
Average Pace: 5.52min/km
Category Place (Females 20-29): 75/169
Gender Place: 275/693
10k split time: 1.00.06min

To Recap:
Goal 1A = Run a PB (sub 2.05.28) - ACHIEVED. And it's the best kind of PB! It's the PB where the minutes changed. Yes, I could have run a 2.05.02 and been okay-happy with it, but how much more awesome is it that I can say the minute changed. Because now I can cut off the seconds and just say with the cool head-tip/nod, "Yeah, I can run a half marathon in two-oh-three."
Goal 1B = Run negative splits - ACHIEVED.

Proud Sisters

Heather, Me, and my Running Room friend Rachel showing off our medals. I am The Voice of Experience in this crew, as for both Heather and Rachel it was their first half marathon...but hopefully not their last!

Post-race ice bath for the legs in the cold Okanagan waters. Brr!

Walking back to our hotel, Heather and I proudly held up cheering signs for those still running in the marathon. Surprisingly, none of the marathoners took Heather up on her offer, although a few spectators did.

Support Crew

I am one of the lucky ones. The verrryyyy lucky ones.
There is barely a race that I've run without support. Now I'm not talking about the organized volunteers handing out water and making sure I don't make a wrong turn (although that is pretty awesome, too). I'm talking about friends waking up at 4am and indulging my "let's get to the race start an hour and a half before the gun goes off at 6am" pre-race anxiety. I'm talking about friends who stand out in the cold for that hour and a half with me as I bounce around to the washroom, to warm-up, to chat nervously with people I recognize, back to the washroom, etc. And then they stand for another 2+ hours as they wait patiently for me to finish the race. What they do in that time, I don't know. All I know is that when I run those long km's on the back half of a half marathon, the thought of those special people watching for me in the crowd keep me going. And when I come around the corner to the finish line, there they are; cheering and screaming and encouraging me to that finish.

So when a few of my fellow running group friends decided to run the small (capped at 1000) but beautiful (running through Fish Creek Park) Harvest Half Marathon, what else was I to do on a Saturday morning but go and support them?
One of my fellow pace group gals and good friends picked me up with pre-race jitters at 6.15am for a 7.45am race. I know what that feels like! What I didn't expect was the pre-support crew jitters that kept me up at crazy hours the night before. Thoughts of, "What if I sleep in and forget? Did I bring enough warm clothes if it's cold? Should I pack more snacks?" Danced through my head. I guess I had such high standards from my own support crew experiences that I wanted to live up to those.

We wandered around, met up with the others, the gun went off....and....now what? The first person we were expecting to see was planning to cross the finish line at 1h40. So what are two Canadian supporters to do for the next 90minutes while we waited? Go to Tim Horton's of course!
With two of us, the time just flew by and before we knew it we were back at the race start watching people zip in to the finish. It was fun to watch the display of emotions. Some people laughed, some cried, some looked stunned (particularly the poor guy who face-planted 50m from the finish line), and a lot had that grimace of intense focus.

The support crew legacy lives on

There weren't many supporters to this small race, but they were encouraging. And nobody had as cool signs as we did! Another gal was going to come in support but work had called her out of town, so she helped me make up the race signs that we could hold up and cheer people on with. I don't know if anyone actually read the signs or if they were too focussed on the finish. But I do know that watching my friends cross the finish line and being able to cheer their names and congratulate them...that was pretty amazing. That is what the running community is about. It may be a solo sport, but everyone has their own personal cheerleaders in the form of other runners. And whatever the time you ran in, whatever your feelings on the race, we are there to support you, because you matter.

My incredible Australian friends taught me that.

 Only the truth!

Winner

I'd forgotten that feeling of feeling like a winner. It doesn't always mean winning races or even getting a personal best. Sometimes I feel like a winner when I just have a really good workout.

What can I say about tonight except Goal Achieved?

I wasn't setting my expectations high when I started out on our 6k tempo. My legs were still sore from Sunday's long run, and admittedly I had been eating lots of yummy junk food all day, topping it off with a bowl of ice cream right before I went out into the cold windy weather to run.
The goal was negative splits. And I was bound and determined that this time - THIS TIME - I would actually do negative splits!
I set off with some of my favourite gals and we had what I thought was a decent tempo run plan: 5.40 pace the first 3k then 5.30 pace the second 3k.

The first 3k set a not-so-surprising trend: 5.33...5.35...5.37...all a little too fast for the goal plan. The first two k's especially, I was worried. I felt I could maintain this or maintain close to this, but negative splits? That was gonna be tough!

We hit the turn around point and knuckled down for the final 3k.

First k: 5.22. Excellent! I felt it was tough, but I was feeling pretty good.
Second k: 5.15. Whoop! Even faster! I made the mistake of calling out the time to my crew. My sister then suggested, "let's do a negative split on this last km." Huh. I mean, I was feeling okay but going even faster? Yikes.
But then a funny thing happened. I remembered back to all those 1k repeats I did in Australia and how I consistently cracked a sub-5min time. Oh, how much I miss those 1k repeats! No, this isn't sarcastically spoken. They were a kick-ass way for me to learn to self-judge speed and learn that my mind holds me back from what I'm capable of doing. So I listened to that memory and pushed that little bit harder.
Third k: 5.05. And the best part was, I felt really good at the end. Tired? Yep! But definitely I felt I could have kept going a little faster for a little longer...

I wonder, is this what it normally feels like to run a negative split? Is it typical to end on such a high note? Further investigation of using negative splits in my running is warranted to scientifically quantify this feeling to determine if it is a fluke or a trend.

Stages of a Long Run

Stage 1. Anticipation
Anticipation generally includes the following:
-getting all running gear organized (nothing worse than showing up and realizing you forgot to bring the right fuel/clothes!)
-checking the weather forecast
-eating the right dinner and breakfast. Or for the super keen, super nervous, or super gastro-sensitive, eating carefully for two or even three days before the event
-checking the alarm is set for the right time and maybe even a back-up alarm as required
-getting to bed early the night before
-ensuring your watch or other appropriate technology is charged and ready
-being as lazy as possible the day before to store up energy for the long run (this may just be my thing)
For me, this stage typically starts the night before and goes right up until I start running the next morning. Others may have anticipation starting earlier in the week.

Stage 2. Small Talk
As the run starts, you settle in with the person next to you and small talk starts up. This either takes the form of introduction for someone you haven't met before, or catching up on the week with familiar faces. You might jostle for places a bit as you settle in. At this stage, your focus is on keeping it slow. No sense sprinting from the start line, after all!
This stage occurs for the first part of the run. It usually doesn't occur past the first few km's unless you are in a group where you are constantly running next to someone new.

Stage 3. Solving the World's Problems and Other Important Conversations
The small talk gets old as the pavement pounds under your feet. Within a few km's you've exhausted talk about the weather and job descriptions and are ready to Solve the World's Problems. Yes, many an interesting debate of worldly affairs has been had on a run. Like any normal conversation, you start off with something mundane - "I'm planning on going to Banff/Gold Coast/other location this weekend" and launches into a spirited discussion about the merits of "yam fries are way better than regular fries" before winding onwards to remarks of "do you know what would really solve our infrastructure problem?..." Yes, this is the time to discuss every niggling problem, be it personal or politics.
This stage occurs in the middle km's. It goes until well under half the distance is left, although one person or group can bounce between Stage 3 and Stage 4 during the run.

Stage 4. How Much Farther?
At some point in the run you really start to feel it. Exhaustion has set in, legs are aching, blisters may be forming, and you just want to be DONE. This is when conversation staggers. You might talk about upcoming races or running goals. This is also the time when you start thinking about After. Yes, the beautiful After that you couldn't let yourself think about before the run. But now as the km's tick upwards you start to imagine what you are going to do when you finish. Hot showers, a cup of coffee, breakfast, sleep...all those beautiful thoughts whisper through your mind. You try to shake it off, because there is still a ways to go yet. But the delicious After thoughts begin to distract you from the conversations you so thoroughly enjoyed just a few minutes ago.
Stage 4 usually occurs when you are close-but-not-too-close to the finish line. Depending on the distance and energy levels, you can bounce between Stage 3 and Stage 4 during the run.

Stage 5. Intense Focus 
You don't even pretend to hold conversation. Heavy breathing permeates the group, interrupted by brief comments of "my legs feel like lead / I can't wait until we're done / I have the worst chafing right now" and so on. But mostly, there is silence. It's really hard to get through Now, so much easier to focus on After and just keep one foot in front of the other.
This stage occurs in the final part of the run, whether the last few km's or the last quarter.

Stage 6. The Stretch of Smugness
You slow your legs and click the "stop" button on your watch. Finished. The word tastes sweet in your mouth. High fives and smug smiles are shared. You walk aimlessly around the finish area, partially to slow your heart rate and breath, partially because you're stunned by this revelation. Finished. Group stretches are filled with the excited chatter about how "exhausted but great" you feel. Whether you felt great or terrible in the run, it can't change the truth of I DID IT.
This stage occurs immediately after the run from the time you stop running until the time you leave the group/finish stretching.

Stage 7. The Bragging
The long run may be finished but by golly it isn't over! Everyone - from friends, to co-workers, to random strangers - deserve to hear about your accomplishment. "Boy am I stiff! I just ran 20k yesterday." "Beautiful day today! And yesterday, too. I ran 20k yesterday and it was so nice out the whole time." "Of course I can finish that report for you right away. I ran 20k on the weekend so everything feels easy in comparison."
Who am I kidding? This stage has no endurance. Milk this puppy for as long as you possibly can. "How funny! Your story about yam fries reminds me of when I used to run 20k's on the weekend. What? When was that? Oh, not since the '90s, but anyway..."



And how far did I run, you ask? Oh, why of course I will tell you! And my co-workers. And my friends. And anyone else I can possibly tell for as long as I can get away with it.

Total Distance: 20.0k
Total Time: 2h 10min

Time-Honoured Ritual

"Wow, you look really sick!"

Those were pretty much the first words out of one of my friend's mouth when I showed up to clinic. It's good to know that we believe in honesty above all else. 

She quickly tried to back-track. "No, no. It's just that your eyes look really glazed over." I wondered briefly if I was still wearing my work-face. There has been a lot of sitting at the computer the last couple of days.

Today we had a hilly 5k tempo. My legs were still feeling it from last night's long run, my voice was still hoarse, and a lingering cough nagged at me.

When my friend asked me to pace her at a 5.10, I just laughed the high-pitched whinny laugh of someone who still has laryngitis. Then coughed. Then whinny-laughed a bit more.

I was feeling good the first km as we jaunted up the hill. I enjoyed the view of the city as we ran along the bluff. Around halfway into the mark, I started to lag behind my group. At first I resisted. Keep up, girl. You've got this!

And then I went into the stage of acceptance. Focus on effort, not speed. Let the others do their own pace...you focus on yours.

One of the guys noticed I was behind but failed to notice my "I'm alright. You keep going your pace and let me do my thing back here and really you don't have to check on me I'm not lost there are lots of people around so I don't feel unsafe and I'm not injured or in trouble so I'll see you at the end when we all stretch together" hand gesture. Really, there is such a gesture.

He slowed down to run with me. Because that's the kind of people runners are. And of course, then we went through the time-honoured ritual of me encouraging him to run his own pace and not to worry about me, and him insisting he would rather run a little bit easier and keep the lagging runner company. Whatever the country, this is what runners do.

And then...then I bit my tongue as I realized exactly what I had become. Excuses Girl.

Now, I'm not talking about all the excuses I make for not going on a run. I've always been that girl, as anyone who has read my blog will know. Fair-weather runner is a name I wear with pride, after all. No, I'm talking about a decent runner who is working hard and doing her best but feeling like it's not good enough compared to other runners. I mean really, the only one I should be comparing to is myself, but comparing to others is just way to easy and tempting sometimes.

Oh, how I tried not to become That Person. It's easy to become That Person when you remember a time when you were fitter and faster (and even then, I could never be too fit or too fast!). And yes, there have been many a time when I've been fitter and faster. But there have been even more times when I've been unfit and unfast. So right now - today - I am as fit as I can be for the effort I've put into it. No excuses necessary.

I almost forgot. After my friend joined me - when I was all set to throw in the towel - I was suddenly more interested in our conversation and less in my pace. And you know what? We even picked up the pace in the end. And I felt pretty great.

But I Have REALLY GOOD Excuses This Time

Running has happened. So have LOTS of excuses of why I couldn't run.
First, there was a niggling knee. Better to rest than risk further injury, right?
Then, there was the snow storm. No one does summer snow storm like Calgary. Who wants to run in a snow storm?

 Snow? Ice? Falling trees? Downed power lines? Psshhh! It just makes the run all the more interesting...**

 ...Said me never. I stayed home, thanks. I drank hot tea and smiled because I still had electricity.

Okay, lots of Calgarians grabbed extra layers and braved the elements to keep up their training. I still consider myself more of a Brisbanite when it comes to "good running weather". Give me hot and humid over ice and falling trees any day.
Then, because it's Calgary after all, the weather turns back to hot and glorious with the snap of ones fingers and...I get a COLD. Ugh.

So I spent last week feeling miserable for myself, sniffling and hacking and shivering in the hot summer sun. I cancelled my long run on Sunday. While I was on the mend, I wasn't quite back in the "let's run for 2 hours" energy mode .

Monday came along and my sister let me know that she was running. In the early evening, that is.
And for once, I was more than keen to go for an evening run. I'm sure it had everything to do with
a) guilt over missing two 18k runs in a row!
b) impending half marathon. I should at least do a little training before the event!
c) freaking out over Australian taxes (Thank goodness that in just a few more weeks, I will only have one tax year to give me headaches rather than two.)

Still, by 7k my energy had run out. We opted to do a figure 8 around our houses to hit maximum pretty park with fall leaves (most of the paths have now been cleared of dangerous dangling tree limbs and fallen debris. Points to the city for hopping on the clean-up bandwagon) and also to minimize distance from home. Just in case.
I did end up turning back early on the last loop as my shin started to give me an alarming pain. But fortunately after a couple minutes of walking it eased back.
So we didn't quite do 18k. It was more like 17k. But that is at least 10k more than I might otherwise have done today, so I'm A-OK with that.

**Thanks for letting me steal your photo, Bill! The other two are courtesy of google.

Falling Apart

I've been blessed in my running life to be a person who doesn't experience many chronic injuries. Acute injuries, sure (I've been on crutches 5 times in my life! All of those times were from spraining an ankle while playing sports/exercising). But rarely chronic.
So on yesterday's long run, I was very disappointed when I started off the run with a twinge in my knee. I'd gone hiking the day before in beautiful Drumheller, and I know I did something to my knee when sliding down the steep paths in my sandals, since by the end of the day it definitely hurt going down stairs.
But anyway, about that running.
I started my 16k long run 7.30am and my friend happened to be starting at that time as well. (Most half marathoners start at 8.30am). So we wound our way along the river, having a great conversation. By 4k my knee had definitely moved from "twinge" to "sore". But it wasn't that sore, and I knew it would hold out for the run.
At 6k my friend suggested we turn around early, then just add an extra add-on at the end with whatever distance we had left. This would have been a great opportunity to say, "yes, please!" and do so. The benefit being that if my knee started getting worse, I could simply cut the run short.
But I didn't want to. I had never run that route before and was really, really curious to see what was around the corner. And the next corner. And the one after that. And...you get the idea.
So we didn't turn around until 8k. And the logical part of my mind was mockingly singing to me, you're gonna regret this! And the irrational part of my mind was sticking it's tongue out at the logical part and saying, nya nya. No I'm not!
The best part of long runs is the company I keep, and I had a stellar conversation with my friend. So the time back felt really fast.
With two kms to go, I suggested to my friend that she speed up to feel what race pace might feel like on tired legs. I told her I wasn't going to go much (if any) faster, because I wanted to look after my knee. Off she went, and I picked up my own pace a little bit more. I couldn't help it. I have a bit of a competitive streak and I was morbidly curious to see how far I could push my stupid knee.
At 15.7k as I was coming near the finish, my ankle (same leg as my sore knee), started to twinge, and I could feel it about to give out. Yikes!
I quickly slowed down to more of a recovery pace. My ankle continued to wibble and wobble but got no worse, so I eased myself through the last 300m of the run.
I'm writing this the next day, and while my ankle is fine, my knee is definitely on the sore side. We'll see what the week brings, but I may need to take a bit of rest before I run some more. Now that I'm not running, the logical part of my brain is reminding me that my body is too precious to push it to the point of falling apart.

That's What Friends Are For

Every now and then someone approaches me about something I've written on my blog. It is always a surprise, because typing into the void of cyberspace, I really don't expect anyone to read this (but thanks to the awesome people who do!)
So when a friend suggested we motivate each other by going for a run together, my first thought was, "wow, you read my blog?!" and my second thought was, "Fantastic! My whining on my keyboard has turned into a productive solution!"
It's friends like that who really keep me going when times are down. The ones who say, "yeah, I know where you're at. I'm there too. Let's join forces to get ourselves out of this and into a better place."
So now we've joined forces to kick our unmotivation in the pants and get out there and train. And you know what? I'm feeling better about running. I'm getting just a bit more excited about it.
And it shows! I kicked ass so much in my 30-minute tempo run on Tuesday that a couple people commented, showed up for hills on Wednesday (recently, just showing up is considered a Good Day) and today did a fun and easy 5k with two great gals.
Because sometimes you need a kick in the pants to find motivation. Other times you need a friend to take hold of your hand and lead you to a better place.
I don't know what next week will bring, or any of the weeks after that. But I'm grateful for where I'm at now.

Smiling and happy after our 16k jaunt: John, Steff, and Me (at that time, not intentionally wearing a shirt with her name on it!)

Countdown to the Day After

I have come to the conclusion that I am rather unfit. Today's 16k (okay, maaaybbbee it was 15.75k) felt tough for a lot of the run. We kept a steady pace of around 6.15min/km but from the get-go I was counting down until the next walk break.
But the conversations were lively and the route was scenic. I attempted to do the last 1.5k around race pace to see how it felt. Not as good/easy as I would have liked.
Hmmm. Maybe I should focus less on lying on the couch eating chocolate and more on getting my running shoes laced up to actually go for a run. There is, after all, only 7 weeks until race day!
I can't remember the last time I was so unmotivated for a half marathon. Have I ever been unmotivated for a half marathon? Right now, I'm more motivated to get to October 13th, when the race is finito and no more training is required.

No Longer a Distance Runner

You know you're no longer a distance runner when 14k feels like a reaaaalllyyyy looooooonnnnggg sllllooooogggg.

Ugh.

To Marathon or Not to Marathon

Change is in the air. Or maybe it is in my heart.

Regardless, something has happened since I moved back to Calgary. In Brisbane, I had a large contingency of great running friends and looked forward (sort of) to waking up at 4.45am to meet my friends and work hard at a run. The excitement of signing up for races together and cheering each other on was amazing. And who can forget those Long Slow Runs on the weekend, where we would nestle in with our cozy pace group and talk incessantly for 2+ hours, only to follow-it up with breakfast, tea, and even more talk!

To everyone I ever ran with in Brisbane: you put the smile on my face at 5.30am.

Now I'm in Calgary, and the running scene is...different. No longer in the morning, the sessions are now in the evening, on our own, or "late" Sunday morning (really, 8.30am is considered late to start a 2-3 hour run, isn't it?!). And runs in the evening are...not my thing. There is the dilemma of should I squeeze in some food after work before running and run on a heavy stomach, or wait until late in the evening when I get home? And then there is the fact that there are so many other fun things to do in the evening, that running has been starting to feel like an obligation more than a higlight.

It is no secret that I have been planning to run a marathon for my 30th birthday next year. The debate has previously been between Chicago or New York (assuming I squeeze in to one of them!). But when visiting my parents at my dad's log cabin, I made a mistake of passing by a kennel and looking at the puppies. You see, after running my first marathon next year, my thoughts were drifting towards "retirement" from serious running so I can focus my energies on a dog. But now I'm thinking, why wait? If I'm struggling for motivation to train for a half marathon, what will suddenly rev me up for the full marathon training?

I mean, there is something to be said for both options. There are two ways I can think about this decision. Like this:

Or like this...

86

I had signed up for a 10k race with good ole MEC. It was a last minute decision. I needed to get a few extra k's under my feet but I didn't want to exhaust myself with a race. The idea, I decided, was to practise.
I had two goals in mind:
1. To discover what it feels like (at this point) to run at my goal race pace for 10k
2. To work on my running cadence and form.

When the gun went off, I enjoyed the lack of self-inflicted pressure to perform well. I hung towards the back of the crowd.
It was interesting to be taking it easy. I passed some people at the 2nd km that were already gasping. I'm not sure how they were going to manage the next 8k!

As far as goal 1 goes, I wasn't expecting much. In half marathons I can usually keep on target race pace until 12k or so, and then I start slowing down. So just to go 10k, I didn't think I'd hit that point of fatigue. And I didn't.
But I got a good feel for what a 5min40sec pace feels like, and with the exception of the 8k mark, every other km was within 5sec of that goal time. I felt slightly fatigued at the end but nothing unmanageable. Still, I have a long way to go before I could maintain that pace for twice the distance.
It was also of interest to note how many people I passed on the second half of the course. Ah yes, those runners just like me who deceive themselves into believing "I can hold this pace for 10k easy!" and then don't. Poor suckers. How well I know your frustrations!

I focussed on keeping as steady a pace as I could, and at the same time I periodically counted my cadence, to see how fast my feet were hitting the pavement.
I've been told that ideally a person's cadence is 180 foot strikes per minute. There is no way I could count every footstep (and it is in fact especially hard when I am near other runners and get confused as to who's foot is hitting the ground when), so I did what most people do and divided in half to count every step on one foot. So my goal number ended up being 90. I really worked on keeping my cadence fast. But this also typically means my speed picks up, so it was a joint effort of fast cadence/easy pace.
Most times I got 86. There were a few 84s and I even went down as slow as 80 when I wasn't paying attention. But no matter how "fast" I told my feet to go, I seemed stuck at 86.
Oh well. At least it's not too far off!

Yikes

The small little 1:50 pace group that started out with three people (one myself, one my sis, and one a gal slower than me) has suddenly grown to Really Good athletes! Yikes!!! What have I gotten myself into?

Tuesday was okay. We did hill training. Which everyone knows involves doing laps. After a couple of years of weekly hill training for 1 hour on the daunting Mt Coot-tha, this was rather tame by comparison! The hill took me approximately 1min30sec to get to the top. Note I don't say "bottom to top", because we didn't actually start on the bottom.
And instead of doing 1 hour of constant repeats, we did 3 repeats! Well, the half marathon group did 3 repeats, while the marathon group did 4 repeats. Since I've been missing a few runs, I decided to do a bonus run up the hill with the marathon group. I forgot how exhausting hill repeats are!!! If you think of it, 1.5min x 4 = 6min. So I was only doing about 6minutes of intense cardio. But my legs were shaking and my lungs were burning. I rarely got passed on the way up but was consistently passed on the way down. Most of the people in my group were taking the hill slow and steady. Me? I've been trained that hill repeats mean sprint up the hill and recover on the way down, so up I sprinted, and down I staggered. Repeatedly

Wednesday was a big Challenge. This was when all these super fast athletes decided to join my group for a 4k tempo run. My best 4k tempo run pace this year is around 5.08. Yet the tempo pace I was supposed to lead was 4.45-4.57min. Hmmm. I whispered to my sis that I was planning to go a bit slower, since I couldn't hold the faster pace. She gave me an "Are You Crazy?" look and told me aloud, "of coooooourse you can run that fast. Just give it a try!"
Ha! If only I weren't in the habit of listening to my older, sometimes wiser sister.
I planned to keep around the 5.00 pace mark. And then the 2-hour pace group set off before me and they were so fast. My competitive nature got the best of me and I decided to show them fast! (Yes, you can see where this all starts to spiral downhill...)
The first km I ran a blistering 4.51min/km. As a reference point, when I did 1k repeats last year with a long rest break in between, 4.45-4.50 was my average on each km.
The second km I ran at 4.56min/km. Slower, but still on target!
I maintained this another half km or so. And then in dismay I saw the pace on my watch creeping up: 5.01...5.03...5.04...
I gasped to Heather and the nearest runner to keep that pace, since I knew I was fading. They strongly encouraged me "no way, you're doing great!" and then blistered on ahead. The next three runners responded in a similar way when I told them to follow my sis and the other guy if they wanted to maintain the correct pace. "No thanks, we like your pace! It's too hot to go faster!" And off they sprinted as I dropped farther, and farther back.
The two hour pacer breezed by me with less than 500m to go. He encouraged me to stick with him, but I just couldn't. I had eaten way too much dinner, my legs were sore from the hills the day before and - let's all be honest here - I had [once again] started off way too fast!
But on the bright side, I set a kick-ass pace for over half the distance, I kept to my own personal tempo pace goal of sub-5.15min average (At the finish my gps watch told me I'd averaged 5.11min/km. Woohoo!). And I got to remind myself - once again - why running negative splits is so much better than starting out too fast and burning up halfway through. Will I ever learn?

You Can't Avoid the Politics

Ahh, politics! What would we complain about if not for them? Besides the weather, I mean.

I go away for one weekend and my running group goes into a huge upheaval. There are whispers and speculations and uncertainties. I know you're thinking it is all because I - huge running advocate that I am - betrayed my sport to run my first triathlon instead, but that was surprisingly not the reason for such chaos.

I won't get into the juicy gossip on this forum, but let's just say that as of now our half marathon clinic has merged with the full marathon clinic and our former coach is no longer with us.

So along with our new coach, we had an awkward clinic about nutrition (which turned into a sales pitch for a specific supplement) and then split off into pace groups for the first time. 

And then the even More Unexpected happened: I volunteered to lead a pace group.

Yet not just any pace group! I volunteered to lead the 1hour 50minute pace group. I realize those of you who have seen me run may have burst out laughing at my ambition. But to be fair, in the pace group tonight was myself, my sister, and one other girl, who happens to be slower than myself. And the way the training program is set up, I'm slightly too fast for the 2hour pace group (I know, right?!) and slightly too slow for the 1.50 pace group. I spoke with my new coach and explained my dilemma over offering to pace the faster 1.50 group and she cared not a wit, telling me to go for it and do my best.

So this is me, about to go for it and do my best! With over 40 members signed up for the half marathon clinic surely there are others who will slink into my group and outrun me. But for right now, I'm enjoying the strange but awesome feeling of being one of the fastest runners in the clinic.

Heart of the Rockies Triathlon

My first triathlon. A sprint version, but I'm happy. I've heard comparison that a "sprint triathlon" is like running a half marathon (time wise) and an "Olympic triathlon" is like running a marathon.
With this handy comparison, I had some idea of what I was getting into.
A-Goal: sub-2hours. My mental breakdown of my race was: 20min for the swim, 60min for the bike, and 30min for the run, with 10min allowed for the two transitions (swim to bike, then bike to run).
B-Goal: just finish. My first tri and all that.

The weather was perfect in Invermere for the 8am start and Lake Windermere was calm and a blessed 22C or thereabouts - warm for a mountain lake!
The shore was extremely rocky so I was glad we started in the water. This race was - so other athletes told me - one of the most low key (this year being the first year they used such things as timing chips), and one of the toughest courses. Great. My one and only triathlon I happen to pick the toughest!

 This picture sums up the sentiments of us sisters going into the tri.

 Putting on a brave face before the swim. My sister's friend was also doing her first triathlon sprint, so we adopted her into our family for the weekend.

The gun went off (figuratively speaking) and I...waited. Yep. One of the best pieces of advice I got from a triathlete before I ever dreamed of doing a tri was to wait for 30 seconds at the start line and let all the competitive swimmers kick each other in the heads, while I followed behind in my own sweet time.

 Well at the back of the pack, just getting ready to start the swim (I'm on the left, in the shorty wetsuit, Heather is directly to my right already in the water)

  

It was an out-and-back course. The way out felt a lot harder than the way back. I don't think it had anything to do with wind or currents, because there were none, but everything to do with the mentality of seeing how far that turn around buoy looked and struggling to get into a decent rhythm. By the return trip I felt much more settled, but I didn't want to push it out of fear I would burn out later in the course.

As I ran onto the shore, adrenaline kept me from feeling any of the sharp rocks under my pampered bare feet. I was so excited waving to the crowd I may have forgotten to start taking off my wetsuit as I raced to the transition. Sort of.

 

 After I reached my bike I realized that I should have been stripping off my wetsuit like the lady right in front of me. Oops!

I geared up in what felt like a long time (in reality, it was as far as triathletes are concerned...more on that later). Fortunately, Heather was there waiting for me as promised so we could set off on the bike together.

 Heather ready to go, me finally remembering to take off my wetsuit.

I had two big concerns for the bike portion:
1. All the hills. Especially the Really Big Hill in the first 2k of the bike section. It was definitely all about the rolling hills! I don't do very well on hills. Maybe I would be better if I'd learned to bike with those fancy clip-in shoes. Alas, it was just me and my runners.
2. The un-covered cattle guard. We were assured by the race director there was a path over it. Sure there was. The path was at most 30cm wide and had a post sticking out of the side that you could easily clip a pedal on if your foot was at the bottom of the pedal stroke when you went across.

Heather kept an easy chatter as I wheezed along the bike. Those hills were TOUGH!!! But I did make it over the cattle guard without falling off the bike. And I did manage to make it up all those hills without having to walk. I consider the bike a success!

Finishing the bike! I wave in happiness knowing there are no more cattle guards between me and the transition zone, 200m ahead. Woohoo!

 Heather raced ahead of me down the final hill to the transition, as she had to change from her fancy clip-in shoes to her running shoes, whereas I didn't have to change any shoes, so I knew I'd be faster. We had a bit of a mix-up over where we left the transition point to start the run, but some helpful volunteers quickly re-directed us.

 My favourite section! At last!

On to what had to be one of the hilliest 5k races I've ever done (I'm talking to you, Ipswich Park2Park!!!). I had not timed myself for the swim. On the bike, I used the speed and distance gauge, but only glanced at the clock twice. On the run, I strapped on a timer watch. I couldn't resist! I'm a runner, after all. I really wanted to do the 5k in under 30 minutes, hills and all. It started with a steep uphill along the sidewalk before going off on a narrow dusty trail that sharply descended back to the lake. Then it was a matter of short but steep rolling hills until we looped back to go up an even Bigger and Steeper hill than before. I passed three walkers on the way up that rotten hill. I checked my watch at the top. With just over 1.5k to go, the 30 minute goal would be close. I pushed it down the hill and kept on pushing hard for the finish.

 Coming into the finish line. Smiley and Wheezy. I'll let you figure out who was who. (Hint: at the recommendations of my "family doctor", I will try to remember to get inhalers in future)


Overall goal time: 2 hours
Actual time: 1.53.09* (ranked 7/10 in age group; 43/67 females overall)

Swim goal: sub-20min
Actual swim time: 20.31* (age rank 8/10; overall 49/67)

[Transition swim > bike: 4.16min (age rank 9/10; overall 61/67. Yes, this is slow in triathlete terms. But faster than the 6-8minutes I was predicting!)]

Bike goal: sub-60min
Actual bike time: 56.21 (age rank 7/10; overall 52/67)

[Transition bike>run: 1.38min (age rank 7/10; overall 39/67)]

Run goal: sub-30min
Actual run time: 29.50 (age rank 5/10; overall 29/67)

VICTORY!!!

*Remember that this includes my 15-20second delay prior to the swim starting! This time would have been added on to my overall swim time.

Short and Sweet

It has been a bit of a kick-ass week for my running.
Goal 1: Run tempo runs at 5.15min/km pace
Goal 2: Stretch after every run
Goal 3: do runs outside of scheduled runs.

All three goals get a big TICK!
Goal 1: I had two other short tempo runs in the past week - one about 3k, and tonight's about 4k. For the 3k I managed a time of 5.10min/km once again. Tonight the distance was closer to 4.3km, and I had a killer 5.08min/km, and it felt much easier than the previous tempo runs. I credit my wonderful sister, who pushed me to run harder and it felt slightly less painful. It seems, though, that I just can't keep a 5.15min/km pace. I think a big part of my problem is I worry I'll go to slow and won't be able to keep up the time. I am supposed to be doing negative splits. While I haven't exactly been doing negative splits, at least there has been no significant drop in my times as the kms roll out.

Goal 2: Stretch? Why yes, I will, thanks! It is super helpful that my running crew all stretches after as well. If I'm going to stand around and talk / gasp for air, I might as well thank my body for it's hard work by stretching out after. And the visual reminders of seeing others stretch is a big key in this.

Goal 3: I love short runs! I did a lovely 5k with a friend (unfortunately, I made the ambitious suggestion of running up Nose Hill and proceeded to regret every step of the first 1.3k until we reached the top). I also did an easy steady run of 4k. Out and back. Niiiice and short! This was a steady run, with the goal of running at about 5.50min/km. I may have cheated just a little. I spoke with a few runners who suggested that I practise the run at my target race pace. Since that is just 9 seconds faster (5.41min/km), I thought I might aim for a nice median of about 5.45min/km.

One thing I have learned: I am pretty good at measuring my times in 1k reps. After doing weekly 1k reps for months on end in Australia, I got to be pretty good at judging my speed and determining if I needed to speed up or slow down. But the trouble is, that is going flat out for 1k reps (I was usually aiming for around 4.45min/km). My ability to judge speed for a tempo run or steady run is poor at best. I am therefore reliant on my Garmin watch which isn't all that reliable. As such, when aiming for a 5.15 pace I often say "oh no! 5.33...better speed up. Wait! Yikes! 4.47... that's way too fast!" and back and forth I go, rarely hitting that sweet spot of my target pace. But perhaps, if I continue this week after week for months on end, I will be able to fine tune my self-judgement of pace. Maybe in the end, I won't even need a fancy watch!

Mind Over Muscle

Happy Canada Day! To celebrate, I met up with my group for a run. Fun times! It was our "clinic night" which meant a chat followed by a run. I had emailed my coach earlier with my goal of running a sub-2 hour along with one of my Australian coaches. Wow! So much great advice has come pouring in!
To start, we were doing a 4k "steady" run. My coach recommended I run that at a 5.15min/km pace.
Gulp! I was nervous. I wasn't sure how I would do.
The first hundred metres was thick with people (Eau Claire being THE place to celebrate Canada Day, apparently), but this quickly thinned out.
The goal of our group was two-fold:
1. Run a steady pace (my pace was 5.15).
2. Run negative splits. This is always a weak point with me!

First km - pretty easy. Feeling okay. I was pulling myself back a few times. 5.10min/km split.

Second km - getting tough! Where is the freaking turn-around point? WHERE??? 5.14min/km split.

Third km - I can't do this. I just can't. But...I need to give it my best shot. And sheesh it's almost over. Mind over muscle! You've got this. Don't give in. 5.10min/km split

Fourth km - wow, this sucks. I am really struggling. All I want to do is stop. I just want to stop!!! This is misery. But if I slow down, then I'll know it was because I gave up on myself. And...if I slow down, that will just be prolonging the agony! 5.06min/km split.

Total time: 20.14
Total distance: 3.90km
Average pace: 5.10min/km. Comfortably under my goal time!

It may not sound like much. It may not even mean much, but getting under that goal time even when things got really tough and I just wanted to give up...that felt pretty awesome.

Food for Thought

My first LSD with my new "running clinic" group (that's Long Slow Distance for those who aren't into the running lingo). Today was an easy 7k.
I joined up with a group of 3 other girls who were going at a reasonably slow pace for me. Always great to have some sticklers for the slower pace in the group. "Hold up now, ladies! We're going a bit too fast." My legs were sore after yesterday's triathlon training, so every time we slowed down I was happy. I was even more happy when the weather was forecast for rain but it was a pleasant overcast weather instead - not a drop of rain!
But the really interesting part happened in the post-run coffee. I've never run with this clinic before, and I was curious what people thought of the training.
The consensus of the group: Running Room is to get people involved in running and to get people to love running. The goal is to increase distance rather than speed.
My thought: rats! I want to increase speed - I already know I can do the distance.
So I spoke with a few people in the group about what I could do if my goal was to increase speed. As always with runners, everyone was filled with good ideas of "I read in X book that...." or, "for me, I found that Y works really well" and so on.
It certainly isn't the type of running club I'm used to from Australia (oh, how I miss my Australian running groups!). It will be interesting to see what happens.
Certainly, the coffee discussion gave me lots of food for thought. I may have to chew on some things for a while.

K-100 Relay: Colour Clash Girl

It's a moonbeam... it's a rainbow. No! It's... it's... Colour Clash Girl!

Yep, that was the super hero name I picked out for myself in this race. The only thing I was missing was my bright orange shoes (although the shoes I wore did have purple laces).

It was a really big struggle for me to wear my cape, in the end. My inner shyness crept out and kept whispering seeds of doubt over my decision to don the superhero cape. No one else is in costume. It hissed at me. You'll look silly.

Everyone will think you're an idiot.

Yes, those seeds of inner doubt that make me more concerned with being judged by other people than having fun. But do you know the one little thing that tipped the balance from non-cape-wearing to cape-wearing?

You.
Yep. That's right! It is you, my fantastic readers (whoever you are) that convinced me to get my colourful butt out there and Wear. That. Cape.

Just me in my cape, hanging out at the tag line with a volunteer.

I thought about sitting down to stare at my non-judgemental computer screen as I typed out this blog entry and talking about how I chickened out of the cape. And I realized that I would be disappointed with myself for chickening out. I don't know how it happened, but years ago I made a pact with myself that I would step out of my comfort zone when opportunities came up.

So I took a deep breath and had my team mates help me pin on my tape. Did I feel ridiculous? Yep. Embarrassed? You bet! Judged? Absolutely!

But I put on a big smile and joked about how awesome I felt. Fake it til you make it, and all that. Draw a comfort zone snug around me, then take a giant leap outside of it!

 ...And away I fly!

The first 6k or so were a gentle downhill, and with the small head wind that flapped my cape out behind me, I really did feel like I was flying.
I had told my fantastic support crew to meet me every 3k for water. At 2.5k when they hadn't driven by yet, I became slightly worried. At 3k there was still no sign of them. I was rather disappointed! I had known that they might be delayed at the transition (long story. I won't even bother trying to explain it here), but I hadn't thought about how delayed they might be. I settled myself grimly in to my stride. My beacon of hope was that I saw a girl running ahead of me and I realized (with a competitive gleam in my eye) I could catch her!
Luckily, my crew zoomed up at the 4k mark to give me some much needed support and water.
They promised to stop every 3k thereafter, and kept their word. This was a good thing because the GPS on my watch cut out part way through (stupid mountains!) so I wasn't sure how far I had gone.
It was a bad thing because they always managed to stop on the uphill parts of my run.

 Hill...

So after that first 6k, the road was filled with what a driver might call "gentle rolling hills", but what I as a runner called...well, I will leave that to your imagination! My pace slowed considerably and by 10k I was exhausted. I had been hoping to run under 90min (about 5.40min/km).
At 10k I realized this wasn't possible. I just struggled to keep going. And I remembered from my review of the course description that the second half had a lot more uphills than the first half! The only one I can blame is myself. I had been overly confident in my fitness level a month ago and started to slack in my training. Naughty, naughty me. I suffered the consequences!

 ...After hill!

 (Aren't they a fabulous support crew? Running up the hill with me to give me water even after they've already done their 16k legs?)

By the second support stop (7k) my team had all caught up with one another. Let me tell you, coming around the corner or up the hill and seeing their cars all pulled over on the side of the highway was a huge highlight for me. Not only because it meant water. Not only because it meant a big screaming cheer of encouragement from my race buddies. But because it meant I was 3k closer to the finish.
And when I saw that marker one mile from the finish line, I was as ecstatic as I could be given my state of exhaustion.
Coming into the finish chute, I felt slow. I felt awkward. And I felt more than a little disappointed with my own lack of training/fitness.
So I did what any super hero would do in such a position. Fake it til you make it!
I grabbed hold of my cape, plastered a fake smile/grimace shape onto my mouth, and "flew" to the tag line.

I didn't make my goal time of sub-90minutes.
I made it in exactly 96.00minutes. That's 6min/km.
Oh, and I did pass that girl in the end! Yes, I was also passed by probably 5 other runners, but that's not the point, right? To each, her own race.

I guess I'll have to train harder when I do this relay next year! And you know what? I think I may wear my cape again too!

This is Colour Clash Girl, signing off from the K-100 Relay.