Summer Sunrise Watermelon Series, Race #1 (actually #2)

This morning I ran the first (for me) race in the Summer Sunrise Watermelon Series, hosted by the Lakeland Runners Club.  I missed the first race because I was out of town, but signing up for the whole series is still a total deal ($30 total).  So I did that.  The race itself is pretty nice: you run around Lake Hollingsworth in Lakeland, which is about 3 miles around, so ideal for a 5k.  I did the series back in 2010 with the philosophy that if I could run four races in the middle of the summer, a marathon should really be a piece of cake.

I have to say that I was less than enthused about this race because I thought that it would be torture, and also I have not been doing a lot of running as of lot.  Or Crossfit for that matter.  In fact, I have kind of been doing not much.  Although I have tried to do some heat adapting, which has mostly consisted of getting out in the evening (around 6:30PM), hoping that this will build some resistance to crazy temperatures.  Is it working?  I'm not sure, although this morning was encouraging.

In fact, it was so encouraging, that I may have possibly PRed on this course for me--I can't find my old numbers to prove it, but I was close.  Seriously.  I assumed that I would have to walk and that it would not be fun, but I did okay (remembering, of course, to slow down a bit when I felt that I had to walk).  It was even above the Threshold of Ick (temperature + humidity > 160), but that didn't seem so bad.  In fact, I felt that I did pretty well, especially considering that I have not been dedicated to training as of late.

I have been doing the Picnic Island runs as well (we are already through two of three) and a few other 5ks here and there.  In fact, I have been doing a race almost every week, which wasn't the plan at the start of the summer, but here we are.  These shorter distance ones are evidently better for me.  It's nice to feel better about things, even if it was just for one morning!

This week I should be getting back into the routine.  I totally plan to go to Crossfit (unlike those days last week when I totally planned to, then didn't...) and may come up with a super-easy running plan.  However, part of me thinks that continuing in the same vein might be a great idea.  This more laid back approach seems to be working for me, and probably I will want to get back to the grind in the fall.  We will see!

I could get used to this

Picture it: Southern Ontario in early June, temperature in the 60s (that's the high teens for you Canadians), and nary a percentage of humidity to be felt.

[Yes, I watch a lot of Golden Girls reruns]

Okay, admittedly there is a wee bit of humidity, but we're talking under 50% here.  That doesn't really count.  Not to mention that these weather conditions were found in the mid-afternoon, a time when you could not pay me money to go run in Florida at this time of year.  I could certainly get used to this.  Except that I am going back to Florida in a few days, so I am trying not to get too used to it.

I went running along the Walter Bean Grand River Trail, which is conveniently located not too far from my house and is very nice.  This whole area has been developed over the past 10 years or so and they have done a very nice job.  Some of the trail went by a golf course, and there was a part near a Mennonite farm that smelled like summer sausage (signs that you are in the Kitchener-Waterloo region include...).  Also, a gaggle of geese hissed at me as I crossed them and their goslings on the trail.  I will take that over alligators, although admittedly the geese were a bit scary.

I have had a few realizations about running lately. One of them is that I am kind of burned out from it.  That would make sense because I had done so many races in the past couple of years, many of which were long and required considerable training.  I did put in for the lottery to the NYC Marathon, although I figured (rightly) that I would not make it.  That's okay.  In this case, fourth time is the charm, because if you try to get in for three years and don't make it, you have an automatic entry for the fourth year.  So I was mostly just keeping my spot open.

The downside of this is that I am not sure what is coming up next on my schedule, because I am in the process of some potentially life-changing stuff happening.  So I don't feel comfortable planning for things quite yet.  I would like to do the Aching Quad, which is put on by the Lakeland Runners Club and consists of four races in two days (they are all 5k or under).  It's something quirky and could be fun.  I am also signed up for lots of 5k-esque races through the summer, including two more Picnic Island Adventure races and three more of the Summer Sunrise Watermelon Series, which I did in 2010.  I missed the first one of these, but I will make the remaining ones.

Now, if I were still a sane person (e.g., not a runner), I would probably think that five 5k-esque races is plenty.  But there is nothing big on the horizon.  There is no point in training for these in terms of performance because the weather conditions will make it too challenging to break any personal records, which is okay--at least it keeps me running.  I feel like it would be easier to get back on schedule, though, if I had a schedule.  Hopefully things will start sorting themselves out soon.

Now if running were more like here all the time, it would probably be easier too.  At least I can enjoy it while I am here!

Run To Remember update

On Saturday, I took part in a local run to remember the victims of the Boston Marathon.  I used this opportunity to raise money for The One Fund, which is the official fund established by Gov. Patrick Deval and Mayor Tom Menino.  I am thrilled to announce that I was able to raise $515 for this cause.  One of the local papers did a story on the event and I was interviewed (and I'm in the picture!  That is Red Sox gear, by the way).

The run itself was good too.  I did 7 miles--there was no set distance or time, but I wanted to stick with my running plan, so I did that.  The second half went very well and, even better, I could finally breathe properly.  So hopefully the flu is totally done.  The run took place at Trout Creek, then we went on to Flatwoods.  Unlike the last time I ran at Flatwoods, this time wasn't nearly as boring.  Thank you very much Run Tampa for organizing this event.

There is a bit more news: I will not be participating in the Broad Street Run this year.  Changes in my personal circumstances have made it difficult, so I have deferred to next year.  The good news is, though, that I was able to defer, and I look forward to returning to Philly next year for it.

Boston Strong

Dear Friends,

As many of you are undoubtedly aware, I resided for many years in Boston and I am a runner.  Because of this, the recent events at the Boston Marathon have been particularly hard for me to comprehend.  Even though I no longer live there, I love Boston and try to visit whenever possible.  It was in Boston that I first started running, and I can only hope someday to participate in the renowned marathon—as a charity runner because I am not fast enough to qualify otherwise!  In fact, this year I had offered to run Boston for a charity that I support, but for various reasons this opportunity did not work out.

On Saturday, April 20, I participated in a local Run to Remember the victims of Boston, and while I am glad to have this chance, I wanted to do more.  Perhaps the most horrific aspect of the attacks to me is the fact that so many of the victims have been maimed and wounded.  One story from the Boston Globe told of two brothers, who both worked as roofers and who had both needed to have a leg amputated after the attack.  I am very worried about the victims because they will not be able to return to their everyday lives, and I want to be able to help them in a more concrete way.

Mayor Tom Menino of Boston and Governor Deval Patrick of Massachusetts have created The One Fund to help victims from the Boston Marathon attacks.  If you are reading this after the event, I would ask that you donate directly to the fund using the link provided.  Thank you for your support of Boston.

The Bad, the Ugly and the Good

The past month or so of running can best be described by rearranging the adjectives in Sergio Leone's classic Western.

THE BAD

A few weeks ago, I traveled to Atlanta to attend a wedding.  While there, I decided to knock Georgia off my list of states in which I have run a race.  What could go wrong?  I signed up for a 10k trail run because I can officially confirm that I dig trail runs.  Now admittedly, in preparing to go, I did not get enough sleep, plus the day that we drove up, we didn't get in until late.  So I was maybe less excited when the alarm went off bright and early than I might have been otherwise.  Also it was pouring rain.

Rain is not my favorite because I hate running with wet feet.  But there was far more to hate.  Not only was it raining, it was cold.  And there was a thunderstorm at one point.  And the fact that it had been raining for a while meant that there was mud.  Here in Florida, we don't get mud very often because much of the ground is sandy (it's kind of surreal, actually, when it rains like crazy and one hour later there is no trace of it on the ground).  In Georgia, by contrast, it gets CRAZY MUDDY.  For a trail run, this is not great.

If I had to choose my least favorite race of all time, this one just might rank.  We had time restrictions with regard to the wedding so I had to drop down to the 5k from the 10k so that I would get back in time.  This was probably the best thing that happened to me with respect to this race because it was 5ks of sheer misery and hell (okay, the first 2.5 or so weren't quite so bad).  It was by far my worst time ever.  By a lot.  By around 12 minutes, in fact--my GPS wasn't working, so around the normal time when I would expect to finish a 5k, I kept telling myself that there was only a little bit left but no, there was a lot left.  In sum, there were hills, mud, rain, cold, and at one point I wanted to sit down on the ground and cry, 'WHY?  WHY?  WHY?  WHY?'  But I realized--wisely--that this would only prolong the agony.

(I do want to say that this was in no way the fault of the organizers or anything like that.  I'm sure that this is a perfectly pleasant trail race in most conditions.  But I have to say that it wasn't my favorite this year).

My shoes and socks following the run.

How could it get worse?  Trust me, it can.

THE UGLY

After returning to Tampa from the wedding, I woke up Monday morning to find that I had what I assumed was a sinus infection.  Blech, I thought.  No good.  So much for my plans to run 15 miles on Tuesday in preparation for the 16-mile Croom Fools Run coming up soon.  So I took it easy Monday thinking that maybe I would be better Tuesday.  No.  Tuesday I was tired and icky.  Wednesday I couldn't go to work.  Thursday I had severe muscle aches in my quads from the intense activity of lying around on the couch all day.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was the flu.  And not just any flu.  Totally blechy, horrible, awful, BLERG flu.

Seeing as how I couldn't lie on the couch without experiencing muscle pain, I was in no state to run or do anything else.  Nine days after the onset, on the Tuesday, I wrote to the race director to see if I could defer my entry for the 16-mile run (this is a race that has a waiting list and they allow you to defer if someone else wants to run it).  This was a first for me.  However, there was no one waiting for the 16 miles, so that was that.

Wednesday--so 10 days after I went down for the count--I finally got myself back to Crossfit.  It did not go particularly well.  But I survived.  And I didn't cough like a maniac the whole time, which was considerable improvement from the previous two days.

THE GOOD

Since I didn't die at Crossfit (even if I didn't have a banner day) and I got through a 4-mile run on the Thursday night without major incident, I decided to go ahead with the 16 mile.  It's entirely possible that this was not the best idea that I have ever had, but I did it and I survived.  Let me tell you, it was hard, particularly the last four miles--I suspect that this would have been true regardless since 16 miles is the second-longest distance that I have ever raced, but I was still not at 100%, which made it worse.

But the point is that I did it and I have to say, it was pretty fun for the most part.  This race also took place in the Withlacoochee forest, like the previous half-marathon that I did, but it was almost entirely in a different part of the forest.  And as usual in a trail race, I was on my own for much of it in the quiet woods.  Also, the weather was surprisingly pleasant, particularly for April, with temperatures starting in the low 50s.  It was a hard race--a very hard race--but I still enjoyed 75% of it (those last four miles.....okay, they weren't so bad.  At least there wasn't mud).

It's been a week since that run and I remain at less than 100% capacity for running.  My lungs are still not wholly better, which I can see quite easily during Crossfit when I have problems catching my breath.  I may not be very good at Crossfit, but generally I do have the cardio fitness to do things.  Running is also a challenge.  Tonight, for instance, was 4 miles (if you're curious, I am currently training for the Broad Street Run in Philly, which is the first weekend in May).  For the first three or so, it was still hot--the temperature today got up to 88F, so we are starting to get near summertime.  I was slow because I am not heat adapted, and I was okay with that.  Then, when the sun went down and it started cooling off a bit, I was slow because I couldn't breathe properly, which was moderately annoying.

A lack of breath is a new obstacle for me.  In a way, though, I am strangely glad that this happened.  I haven't been injured before and there is a parallel between this and injury.  I am focusing instead on finishing workouts, taking it easy, and realizing that right now, performance is secondary to completing tasks.  It's okay.  Someday--hopefully someday soon--I will be able to breathe again.

It seems only right to leave you with this:

From the vault: my first (and only) triathalon

I wanted to post this.  I wrote it originally on May 9, 2008, back when I posted 'notes' to Facebook (remember that?).  I've made a few references to it on here, so I thought that it might help to give some context for my first triathlon, which I did not enjoy for a variety of reasons.  Enjoy.

Okay, I need to do this to vent and to contemplate and to possibly inspire others to take up this sport even though you have maybe be afraid to try it in the past. Because believe me, if I can do it (and I have the USA Triathlon Approved piece of paper AND a popsicle stick to prove that I did it), anyone can. Although I might advise you not to do one in central Florida in May. 

SWIM (1/4 mile)
Many people fear the swim. If so, I must highly recommend the Lake Louisa Sprint Series that I did last night. You could, literally, wade the whole way out and the whole way back. To me, this posed a challenge, since I was pretty much trained to swim the 1/4 mile (and swim it well, I might add, according to some numbers I checked...my last practice swim was 10:03, which is not at all shabby for a 1/4 mile). Wading quickly was not really my deal and it lifted my heart rate up to that 'oh dear God just please let this erg test be over' anaerobic state. This state was also not so fun for starting the bike portion and it took me probably 1/2 mile just to get to anywhere near a normal, exercisey heart rate level. Small children also passed me at this point in the race.

For fun, there was a sign on the beach warning us that alligators are found in Lake Louisa and offering tips to avoid them. Clearly the best tip would be 'Don't swim in Lake Louisa because FOR THE LOVE OF PETE THERE ARE ALLIGATORS.' But that's apparently just not how Floridians roll.

T-1
I had experienced great anxiety about the transition (after reading about 25 websites that listed numerous tips and strategies for transitions). However, weirdly enough, I feel like I did pretty well. I put on wicking socks which prevented my feet from being wet and icky. I got my bike off the rack fine and even managed to walk it by guiding the handlebars instead of the seat, thus avoiding the pedals bashing into my calves. Seeing as how I am usually hyper organized, doing well at transitions kind of makes sense.

BIKE (7 miles)
As I mentioned, the first 1/2 mile was mostly spent recovering from the Swim-Wade and my elevated heart rate. I then looked ahead and saw an unusual sight for central Florida: hills. That's right: hills. When I want to do hill training in Tampa, I need to search long and hard for a hill. I know of two and they are both found on trails (one is an overpass, the other on the vestige of an old bridge). However, natural hills are few and far between, and normally have a total elevation of around 10-15 feet. That means the kinds of hills that I used to run casually during my warm-ups in Worcester (one of the many Seven Hills cities) are now far beyond my capacity. Being on a bike did not help and I was slightly confused about how to gear in this situation. That's how flat Tampa is.

I need to point out that the temperature was around 90F when the race started. Looking back in my old running diary from last year, I can see that I got really whiny and complaining when the temperature hit the mid-70s. When you combine 90F + Florida sun + hills = splitting headache and many thoughts of, 'Why, why, why?' There was a brief split second where I even thought I might quit. But I didn't because that's just how I roll, even when I'm sure I'm going to place DFL (it's in urbandictionary.com, definition #1). People stopped passing me at this point. That is generally a bad sign.

T-2 (Ich komme wieder...)
I momentarily could not locate my stuff. However, this leads me to my one piece of wisdom gleaned from my triathlon experience: bring a unique towel. That way, you can find your space at the bike rack quickly. My towel was a lovely one from Target that had tasteful, multi-colored stripes. A plain towel will be no help to you.

RUN (1.5 miles)
I know, it's a wimpy distance. And I was hoping to just blast through and kill the thing. That is hard when it is 90F and you have just swam/waded and biked hills. Plus, naturally, there were a few hills going out (these were very tiny and just reinforced the whole 'Tampa has no hills and I am turning into a wimp' thing). I walked the hills, but ran all the way back. It was at this point that I actually *passed* someone. She was an older lady but she was walking and I was running and I passed her, therefore taking me out of DFL. Score.

I finished and got my popsicle stick marking my place (plus it was 10 people off because the popsicle stick labeling person had erroneously started at the wrong number with my set). It is now taped to my 'USAT Approved' paper. The older woman also finished, but after me, as well as 2 other people. That made me 4th last. This is a big step up from December, when I was, actually, last in a 10M course (which also involved hills and lousy weather, just on the other end of the spectrum with 25F temperatures). 

Ricky Bobby wisdom tells me that if you're not first, you're last, so whatever, that makes all of us from #2 down the same. I like that.

FUTURE IMPROVEMENTS
1) Don't race in 90F weather. I am not a 'heat' person. Racing in 90F weather will not change that. In fact, it's the next morning and I still feel over-heated.
2) Practice bike hills more often, even if that means at the gym. Or try to locate hills, perhaps by driving more inland.
3) Think carefully about wading speed and don't let heart rate get too elevated.

WHAT I LEARNED
1) I'm slow. That's just how it goes. The sport does not matter. It would be great if we had more sports that emphasized strength for women, because I think I would be good at those. But since I've committed myself to cardio sports, it's okay that I am not as fast as some other people. I am still working hard. Giving up is not the answer.
2) Bring a unique, multi-colored towel.

WHAT'S NEXT

Tampa Marathon: March 1, 2009. I would be thrilled if the heat/humidity/dew point stayed low for this event. Either way, there will probably be no threat of alligators.

My training schedule also allows for 5ks during the summer/fall. I am looking forward to those and will choose them as they come along. Mostly this summer I want to work at getting faster. According to _Runner's World_, my mile pace (for a 5k) is now at an intermediate level; this is a small but very welcomed accomplishment.

My popsicle stick/official piece of paper

If you're curious, I did not do that marathon because my schedule was too much and I realized I couldn't handle it.  I did the half-marathon instead (Gasparilla), which started hellishly (temps in the upper 60s, humidity in the upper 90s), then got rather pleasant after a major storm blew in.  It wasn't until December 2010 that I would finally do a marathon...and finally discover blogs instead of Facebook notes.

Long Play Race

So apparently I am only writing in this blog after races these days.  That's okay.  I have to admit that I have been more conscientious about Crossfit as of late than running. Probably you don't want to read post and post about how bad I am at all things Crossfit (mind you, if you follow this blog, then you read a lot about how bad I am at running).  Anyway, I did have a race today and I do have something to say about it.

Today's race was a trail half-marathon called the Long Play Race.  It's called the Long Play Race because there is also an ultramarathon of 33 1/3 miles, so it's like a long-play record.  And in fact, for finishing, we all got to choose a record with a distinct cover.  Mine is the 101 Strings, 'A Night in the Tropics.'

So much more awesome than a medal.

I really enjoyed this race for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that we had almost perfect running conditions (in my opinion).  And I don't mean that it was almost perfect for Florida and only started at 72F with humidity in the 80% range or something.  I mean perfect.  Due to a freak dip of the jet stream, it is cold here.  As in, it was in the 40s for the entire race.  With low humidity.  I can still hardly believe it myself, so I want to preserve this graphic forever as a token of remembrance:

Best.  Racing.  Weather.  Ever.  (By Florida standards)

Compare this to Gasparilla last weekend, when I started with the second wave of runners at 9:45, at which time the temperature was 73F and the humidity was 93%.  That is totally over the threshold of ick.  DUDE.  That is almost summer weather.  At least it stayed overcast for most of the race, so we didn't all die.

Anyway, back to the Long Play.  Not only was the temperature pretty much perfect, the course was awesome.  It was in the Withlacoochee State Forest and once I separated myself from the other runners (which took, like, no time at all because the other runners were mostly pretty fast), it was so crazy quiet and peaceful.  Sure, the course was a bit too hard for me because it had hills and copious amounts of relatively loose sand, but I truly enjoyed being in the woods, pretty much by myself, and not dying of heat.  Yet it was still an eventful race in some respects:

1) Some of the forest was on fire.  Well, smoldering.  For real.  I jumped over a smoldering log at one point (then again on the way back).

2) There were hunters somewhere in the woods.  I heard them fire two shots.

So I never have to do Tough Mudder now, because I have been in a race where hunters were shooting stuff near the course and trees were on fire.  This ranks up there with the gators in the lake when I did a triathlon down here.  Ah, Florida.

I have saved the best for last, which is that I placed first in my age group.  Here is a re-creation of the conversation:

Race person: And....congratulations, you are first in the 30 and up division. [I think they meant 30-39]

Me: (stunned) No.

But I was.  And I got a hat as my reward.  And if you are curious, there were two other people in my age division, so I will take it as an achievement.

My time was pretty bad for a 1/2 marathon, even taking out the extended bathroom break (it was extended because the bathroom was being cleaned and added at least 5 minutes to my time)--which means that I totally earned my 1st place because I passed someone in my age group in the very last part of the race.  A lot was on sand, which makes running more difficult, and I am definitely not accustomed to running on this kind of surface.  Also, the course was likely longer than a 1/2 marathon according to the race director--my Garmin is typically useless on trails, although it did record more like a 13.3 instead of a 13.1 (race director thought it was more like 13.8).  People were pretty casual when they learned this news.  I guess if you hang out with ultra people, you learn to be pretty casual.

I decided a few days ago that I spend too much time thinking about bad runs that I have experienced instead of focusing on the good ones.  So I am making an effort to identify good ones and remember them, so that I remind myself that there will be benefits while I am slogging through less enjoyable runs (by which I mean, runs that are too hot).  Today's race definitely ranks as one of my favorites in a while.

Did I mention the baby goats?  No?  In the last part of the course, I passed a fenced-in area that had a goat. She (I am assuming) looked around, then two little, teeny goats came out and hung out with her.  Seriously.  So cute.  Winning my age group, perfect temperature, beautiful course, my very own 101 Strings record, and baby goats.  What more could you ask of a race?