January 16, 2007
Viva Las Vegas!
Question: How long does it take to write up a race report of an unexpectedly good half-marathon that you weren't even sure you wanted to run?Answer: A little over a month.
Question: Even if someone gave you a head start? And you had two weeks off work?
Answer: Yes. Do not underestimate the power of vacation-induced laziness. Inertia is a powerful thing. Especially when couches are involved.
At any rate, I have absolutely no excuse for why this report took so damn long to write. I was going to just skip it after I managed to get through two weeks off work with absolutely no progress on this front, but then I was publicly shamed about the lack of report this weekend. (OK, maybe "publicly shamed" is a little strong. More like, "gently reminded that my local running blogging friends hadn't yet seen a report.") So, without further ado, here it is: The Vegas Experience, by Dawnie.
My path to the Vegas half marathon was anything but direct. Early in the year, I decided I was going to run it because it'd be fun to meet up with whichever parts of the RBF contingent showed up. Plus, it would be a weekend in Vegas. In December. When the weather would be pretty much guaranteed to be crappy here in Chicago. Really, there was no downside. My only concern was whether or not I'd be up to running another marathon just 6 weeks after kicking ass and taking names in the Grand Rapids marathon. When I found out there was a half, I knew I was in. I booked travel and hotel, decided I'd just wait until after GR to register, and if I didn't think I was going to be ready for the full 26.2, I could just run the half. As late as the beginning of September, though, I was all for going for the whole enchilada. I was running like a maniac. I was training hardcore. I was a lean, mean running machine and two marathons in 6 weeks would be totally doable, because I was just that awesome.
Then September happened. I missed two weeks of running when I got the cold that wouldn't die. I had some annoying personal crap go down, and between the general funk I'd found myself in and the complete and total loss of speed that my hiatus caused, I was totally unmotivated. I scrapped Grand Rapids, figuring I'd ramp back up in time to run the full in Vegas, but I just couldn't do it. I'd lost my running mojo, and dragging my sorry butt out for anything longer than 5 or 6 miles damn near took an act of Congress. (Of course, said butt was also expanding, since I hadn't cut my eating back as much as I'd cut the running back. This did nothing to help the funk or the motivation.) I'd already booked travel, I was looking forward to the trip, and I couldn't quite bring myself to drop out entirely, so I took the easy way out: I registered for the half. A half would be totally doable. Training for a half wouldn't require 15-mile long runs. Training for a half would be fun instead of punishing. The half was totally the way to go.
Aaaaand then I spent the next 6 weeks sitting on my ever-expanding butt drinking beer. On a good week I got in 15 miles... maybe. And none of those runs were longer than 6 miles. The week before the trip, I just about forgot that I was heading to Vegas to run 13 miles. I was all, "Woo! Mini-vacation to Vegas! Yee-haw!" I avoided thinking about the race at all costs, because I was convinced it was going to be a horrible, awful, 3+ hour death march, much like my first half-marathon was. I figured if I was lucky, I'd get through the first 10 miles before I crashed. If I was really lucky? I'd finish in 2:45 or so. When people asked me about my goals? I just said, "I'll be happy if I can finish in under 3 hours," and I wasn't quite sure how realistic that was. I was fat. I was out-of-shape. I was slooow. I was going to suck the big one, but, hey! Vegas! Woo!
As it turns out? I am a big ol' sandbagger.
I woke up the morning of the race bright and early, and decided that the leftover pasta from the previous night's dinner would make a fantastic breakfast. If nothing else, it sure beat the pants off trying to go downstairs and locating a bagel or similar. It's not that I didn't think there wouldn't be anything open - I was in Vegas, after all - but I wasn't quite mentally ready to be awake, and there was absolutely no way I was mentally ready to be awake, dressed, and walking through a smoky casino littered with what, at that hour (4 a.m.), could only be the incredibly sketchy or incredibly drunk. I ate my leftovers, got dressed, and eventually made my way down to get a cab to the start. I wound up sharing a cab with another runner, and as we explained to the cab driver what was going on that morning, he was clearly not pleased. Not only did he not get why we were running the half-marathon ("Are you going to win? No?"), but he totally didn't get why they needed to close down the strip for a couple of hours so we could. ("What do you mean they're closing the strip? Everything's on the strip! How am I supposed to pick people up and take them places?") Add in the confusion that resulted from neither of us having small change to split the fare and it was an interesting start to the day. One that sort of reinforced my general hate for cabs. (On one hand, they're beautifully convenient. On the other? I always seem to get drivers that are just Not That Happy, which always makes me uncomfortable and AAACK. If I'm alone? I'd rather take the bus, unless it's too late for that to be an intelligent option. Or I've been drinking, and want to get home ASAP without having to navigate the CTA.)
Cab-related issues aside, I made it to the start just as jeff was calling to see if I needed a ride. (I'm just going to tell you this now: jeff? Is just as awesomely amazing as you think he is. Not only did he organize dinner for us all and provide terrific on-course support, but he offered Ali and I rides to the start if we couldn't get cabs in the morning. I'm thinking that having jeff in the crowd is as good of a reason to run a particular race as anything else.) I'd talked a bit with Reece about running together during the race, since we were expecting similar finish times, but had totally failed to make any sort of plan to meet up with him at the start. Somehow, though, he found me while I was waiting for Ye Olde Port-O-Lets, which was good... except I was not in a remotely social mood. This happens before every big race I do - I just get sort of withdrawn and quiet. It's not like I'm really even focusing on anything, but I just don't feel like talking to people, preferring instead to lose myself in the crowd. Which is totally fine if I'm running by myself. If I run into someone I know, though? Then I just end up feeling like I should apologize for appearing to totally blow them off, lest they think they did something to offend me.
Anyhow, I did look for him once I was ready to head back into the corrals, but there was just too many people. I kept an eye out for him as I headed into the corral, hoping that maybe he'd spot my obnoxiously pink hat. While I wasn't so much down with being social pre-race, it would be nice to have someone to run with, especially since I still wasn't sure how I was going to handle the 13.1 miles ahead of me. I was fearing a repeat of my very first half-marathon: I was hopelessly undertrained for it, and while the first 6-7 miles were fine, by mile 9 I'd crashed and burned. The last 4 miles of that was a death march in the suprisingly warm Florida sun, and when I saw my then-boyfriend on the course at mile 12? I sort of wanted him to just carry me back to the car because WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DID I THINK I WAS DOING and MY FEET HURT and I AM SO DAMN TIRED, CAN I PLEASE LIE DOWN AND DIE NOW? Crossing the finish line totally lifted my spirits and convinced me that with the right training I could do it again, but during the race? It was ugly. Really, really ugly. The vague option of not having to go through that alone? Was incredibly appealing.
Unfortunately, the start came and went and Reece didn't resurface. I figured I'd keep an eye out for him during the race - maybe once the crowd thinned out, he'd be easy to spot - but I also got into my solo running groove. I settled into a nice easy pace, kept the weaving to a minimum, tried not to think too many evil thoughts about the insane number of walkers that clearly started way too far up in the corral (I'd started right next to the 5:00 pace group, figuring that would be just about right), and enjoyed my run up the strip as the sun rose.
Running up the strip in the early morning? Was awesome. There were a fair number of spectators out, as well as enough drunk people stumbling out of the casinos with bemused looks on their faces to keep it interesting. There was also the group of Guys In Suits on the pedestrian overpass near MGM. I spent a good chunk of time during the race trying to figure out their story. Prior to the race, I'd spent a good chunk of time debating whether or not to wear a watch. On one hand, I wasn't running this for time: I wasn't going to set a PR, and I was afraid that the watch would shift me into Race Mode and I'd burn myself out unnecessarily. On the other, having a watch with me would keep me at a good, slow honest pace for the first few miles, not to mention give me some sort of reference point for how far along I was later in the race (I have absolutely no sense of time or distance if I'm running in an unfamiliar place). In the end, the pros outweighed the cons and I wore the watch. I figured if I wound up having a no-good horribly bad day, I could just shut it off.
The first couple of miles clicked by right around a 12:00 pace. It felt good, it felt easy, and while it was on the faster end of what I expected, I figured it would be OK. If I needed to slow down? I'd slow down. I was, however, Not Allowed to speed up before the 10 mile mark. The plan was to keep it slow and fun until I had 5K left, and then see how I felt. If I felt like ass? I'd drag my sorry butt through the last 5K. If I felt good? Well... we'd see what happened.
I got through the first half with no problems at all, feeling surprisingly good. I spotted jeff at miles 3 and 6, and was able to hand off my jacket to him for safekeeping. Shortly after mile 6, we left the strip and headed through downtown. When we turned onto Fremont street, I was amazed. I've been to Vegas a few times, but I've always stayed on the strip so this was unexplored territory for me. The first thing I noticed was that the street, which was lined with bars and restaurants, was covered with an awning and clearly closed to regular vehicle traffic. The next thing? Was the big huge Christmas tree right in the middle of the street. It was fantastic, and you had to be a little careful making your way through here as people slowed to a walk and/or stopped to take pictures. (I fully admit to being a part of this particular problem, thanks to my cameraphone.) I made a mental note to get to this part of town the next time I was in Vegas, and then moved on. I successfully navigated the full/half course split and then turned off Fremont back towards Mandalay Bay and the finish line.
While I still felt pretty good, here's where the wheels sort of came off the race, organizationally speaking. Up until now, there had been water stops every 2 miles or so. On the second half of the course? They were incredibly random. There was a spot where I must have run almost 3 miles between water stops, and then another spot where they were about 1/2 mile apart. I say "must have run" 3 miles because I honestly have no idea - the mile markers and course clocks became just as sporadically placed. The first sign of trouble was when I crossed a chip mat after the course split and the volunteers there told us we were "halfway!" A glance at my watch told me that it had been over 15 minutes since I passed the 6 mile marker, and while I had dawdled a bit taking pictures of Fremont street and wasn't exactly speeding along the course, I knew there was no way I'd only managed to cover a little over half a mile in the past 15 minutes. As I turned this over in my head, panic set in: what if they'd messed up the course? What if it was more like 14 miles instead of 13? What the hell was I going to do then?
I took a deep breath, calmed myself down, and realized that if they'd messed up the course? There was nothing I could do about it now. I was moving along, I still felt really good, and as long as I took it easy the extra mile wouldn't kill me. Would it annoy me? Yes. But I'd make it, and I could always e-mail the race director and complain later. Fpr now? Well, all I could do was keep running.
It was during this second half of the race that I became incredibly thankful that I'd decided to wear the watch. My splits weren't telling me much, but I could look at the total time and, assuming a roughly 12:00 pace, get a fairly good idea of where on the course I was. I kept it easy, I kept it loose, and I remained constantly amazed by how good I felt. By about 1:45 in, the fear of crashing and burning before the finish finally evaporated, and I started wondering just how fast I could finish this sucker. I didn't really think that breaking 2:30 was a possibility, but I figured if I continued to run smart, I could probably come pretty close to it.
At 1:52 in (by my watch), I passed an aid station where they excitedly told us, "only 5K left to go!" I looked at my watch. I did some math. If I could run a 38 minute 5K, I could break 2:30. Which meant.... if I could just maintain my current pace, I could break 2:30. No. Way. That would rock. I started to speed up a little bit from all the excitement, but I made myself hold back. "I just have to maintain pace," I told myself. No use in speeding up and then burning out at mile 12 just because I got overexcited. I knew better than that.
5 minutes later, I passed another aid station where they yelled, "Mile 10, right here!" What? Huh? What??? At this point, I'd give up on seeing regular mile markers, but I was hoping that the ones that were out were at least correct. It was at that point I realized that the whole thing was just messed up. Mile markers weren't going to tell me anything between here and the finish, so all I could do was run by feel and use my watch to guess how far along I was (and, thusly, how far I had left to go). It was annoying, but I tried to take a deep breath and let it go. Getting all worked up wouldn't do me any good now - all I could do was finish the race and then send an e-mail to the race director letting him know exactly what I thought about all of this crap. (As it turns out... I never did. I thought about it, but I decided to give myself a few days to cool down and organize my thoughts. Just as I was getting ready to send it, the race director sent an e-mail to all of the participants saying, "We know we screwed up, we're sorry, please come back next year." I did reply to that with a few additional thoughts, and then let it go.)
The annoying thing was that had I been having a bad day, the misplaced mile markers would have been far less of an issue than they were. Since I was having a surprisingly good day, I wanted to kick it up a notch. Run a good race. See what I could do. But... given my fitness level at the time (read: not all that great), there was a big difference between "kicking it up for the last 2 miles" and "kicking it up for the last 3 miles." I'd had a great day so far, and I didn't want to ruin it by overdoing it at the end and dying a half-mile from the finish. I settled for kicking it up, but doing so conservatively. It was annoying, but I'd work with it. I knew I probably wasn't going to break 2:30, so I just focused on finishing strong.
And finish strong I did - during the last mile I was tired and ready to be done, but I kept plugging along. I turned the last corner and sprinted as fast as I could through the finish. I crossed the finish line feeling absolutely fantastic, pleasantly surprised that I hadn't died.
My final finish time? 2:34:05
Yes, 2:34:05 - a mere 15 minutes slower than my PR. This from the girl who was "hoping" to run a 2:45 but "wasn't sure if that was going to happen." For a race that I'd trained for primarily by drinking beer and thinking about running. Suddenly, getting back into marathon shape - a task that had seemed completely impossible 48 hours ago - seemed like a completely reasonable thing to do.
So, inspired by my success (or my incredible luck - you choose), that's what I'm doing. I'm starting small, building the miles, and shooting for 26.2 at the Flying Pig in early May. I'm not training for a PR, although if I'm in any sort of decent shape there's a good chance I'll get one. Instead, I'm just training to get my butt into shape for summer racing, a fast fall marathon, and to be in good enough shape to enjoy running the Pig, much like I enjoyed running Vegas.
For a race that I wasn't even sure I wanted to run? It all turned out pretty darn good.
Posted by Dawn at 05:42 PM
November 29, 2006
Getting There
This morning, I got up early, got out, and ran 5 miles. It's still harder than I'd really like it to be, but it's definitely getting easier. My heart rate isn't as low as it was in August, but each run it seems to stay a bit lower for a bit longer. However, today wasn't about being frustrated by the fact that I'm out of shape. Today was about enjoying what will probably be the last 60-degree day around here for a long, long time.It's late November in Chicago, and I headed out this morning in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Shorts and short sleeves! On November 29! That's just about unheard of. I knew if I didn't get out there and enjoy it, I'd be kicking myself all winter long.
In other news, I'm horribly undertrained for the half I'm running in 11 days. Oops. However, it's still a weekend in Vegas, so I think I'll live.
Posted by Dawn at 12:46 PM | Comments (2)
November 07, 2006
Registered!
As you can tell, I haven't been blogging. However, I have been running... sort of. I went through a rough couple of weeks, motivation-wise: I was running on treadmills during the week (ugh), I was on a new medication that has a diuretic effect which made long runs a challenge, and I just generally felt slow and out of shape.So I took last week off. No treadmills, no long runs, nothing. I called the doctor and we adjusted my dosage, so I'm not getting as dehydrated. Then I readjusted my work schedule to go in a bit later, which gave me time to run in the mornings before work, and, man, did that make a HUGE difference. I had my best run in a while this morning. On top of all that, I realized something: Sure, I could train for the full Vegas marathon. I could probably run it and do a decent job. But I wouldn't enjoy any of it - not the beating myself into marathon shape in 6 weeks, and not the slog through a full 26.2 miles.
The half, however, would be totally doable. I made it through a (very slow) 11.2 miles on my first long run in a while a few weeks ago. So, with an extra 5 weeks of training, 13.2 would be manageable. Most importantly, it would be enjoyable. I could run 5 miles a day for 2-3 days during the week. I could do long runs of 12-15 miles. I could toss in another weekend run of 6-8 miles. All of this would be manageable and, like I said, enjoyable.
So today, I officially registered for the Las Vegas Half Marathon. It's not going to be a speedy PR race, but it's going to be a heck of a lot of fun.
Posted by Dawn at 03:33 PM | Comments (3)
October 10, 2006
Why I Heart Nike
I got an e-mail just as I was getting ready to leave work today, reminding me of the Nike group runs that are happening in Chicago right now. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they have 3 and 5 mile group runs that leave from places convenient to either work or my apartment. Since most of my Tuesday and Thursday runs for the next 9 weeks are 9 miles? It works out perfectly.Thank you, Nike, for you have saved me from the treadmill. Plus, I got to run today! I didn't think I was going to, since I slept in too late to hit the gym before work, and I just can't handle the treadmill after work. Not only did I get to run, but I got to run with some fun people and then hang out with them afterwards while enjoying free wings, quesadillas and veggies. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that situation, and that doesn't even include the awesome view of the skyline we got on the lakefront.
As far as I know, these runs are going to be pretty much a year-round thing. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, because that would be awesome, and limit my treadmill time to one day a week. One day a week! Like I said, I heart Nike big time right now.
Posted by Dawn at 08:21 PM | Comments (1)
Relax, Regroup, Reschedule
Man, September was just not a good month for training. I wound up not running at all for the first 10 days of the month, due to my British Vacation Adventure. Sure, it was less than ideal, but it wound up being just fine. I came back, I jumped right back into my training schedule and had an awesome long run of 18 miles the following weekend. Sure, I'd lost a little bit of speed/fitness, but not enough to worry about. I'd log the miles, get that back, and be more than ready to rock in Grand Rapids on 10/29.Then the temperatures dropped 30 degrees overnight, and I got sick. When I woke up Monday morning, I felt fine. By the time I got home Monday evening? My throat was sore from the drainage, and I was tired and cranky and not in a good place. I had a cold. Crap. I spent a week sleeping it off and not running, telling myself that I was much better off this way. I'd get back into the schedule next week. I still had a couple of long runs planned before the taper. It would all be OK. Sure, Grand Rapids wouldn't be as rockin' fast as I'd originally hoped, but it would still be more than fine.
The next week, though, I just couldn't kick the damn thing. Overall I felt better and my energy levels were back up to almost 100%, but I had all this chest congestion and couldn't run more than a step or two without hacking up a lung. This was, to say the least, a bit discouraging. I wound up running a pretty reduced schedule during the week, and figured I'd rest up and save my energy for the weekend's long run, which would be fine and get me back in gear. Except the long run wasn't fine. It was supposed to be 18 miles, but after 10 I was exhausted and hacking up a lung. I tried to talk myself into gutting it out until at least 12 miles, but it was a crappy run anyway (I was underhydrated and poorly fueled, thanks to spending the previous day at an amusement park) and I just didn't have the desire to pull through.
I think that was when my motivation died. I tried not to worry about it too much - I still had a 20-miler on the schedule for the next week, and I could still rock that before tapering - but I was just done. Getting up early to go run in the gym before work was never easy, and became nearly impossible. I just didn't care. I knew that my best hope for Grand Rapids was going to be to just finish. Sure, I could probably run a nice, solid race and still probably set a new PR (the nice thing about crashing and burning on your first two marathons? The bar is set pretty low for #3), but I'd be running just to finish. Not to run fast, not to run well, but just to not die.
If I was going to be honest with myself? That's just not worth it to me. Both marathons so far have just been about survival (although for totally different reasons), and I just wasn't that excited about adding a third to the list. I know I can get myself through a marathon - what I want to find out is can I do it well? And the pure and simple fact of the matter was that right now, I'm just not in a position to run a good marathon in 3 weeks, and knowing that it's hard to get myself psyched up about spending the time on the treadmill or on the long runs for it.
So, I decided not to do it. It kind of kills me to just say, "Nope, not running Grand Rapids anymore," to, in a way, give up without even trying. But I'm not quitting completely. Instead, I decided to take a few days off (and skip this weekend's long run - sometimes, you just need to be a little lazy) and, starting tomorrow, I'll jump back into a training schedule focused on Vegas. I've got 2 months, which should be enough time to get that fitness and speed back and be able to run a good race down there. I can step back my long runs into the 15-16 mile range, which is a lot easier to mentally gear up for after a break than someting in the 18-20 mile range. I'll rebuild the mileage, I'll run a 20 or two before the taper starts, and then I'll rock Vegas like it's never been rocked before.
It'll be great. Most importantly, though, I'm excited about running and training again. As bad as I feel about opting out of Grand Rapids, the change of plans was clearly what I needed.
Posted by Dawn at 09:33 AM | Comments (1)