Marathon :: Idea vs. Training

Running a marathon seemed like a great idea at the beginning of this year (by the way, who said it could possibly be this close to April already when I'm pretty sure it was January just yesterday?!). 

Like every year for the past four, I started out training pretty gung ho in January.  I was out every weekend finding a new trail to conquer.  About mid-February, family illness derailed me a few weeks again this year, and I struggled to recommit, but the deadline of race day loomed before me.  Normally, I would put the ax to the grindstone and drag myself back outside for some hill training during the week and distances on the weekend in March to meet April with weakened conviction yet a passion to finish strong. 

This year, however, I personally avoided the family illnesses in February, yet still became home-bound caring for The Sick.  Then March came and I got hit with something that took me out for about 10 days that, fortunately, the children avoided.  Now, April is marching right on into the house and I have commitments and schedules and life blooming itself right into my path of training, and my conviction is truly waivering.  I'm pretty sure this has been the toughest year yet, and this is the year I wanted to succeed in that marathon.  (Last time I trained for a full marathon, I didn't make it to the finish line due to bad weather, although I did finish the distance in my own personal race later that spring.)

I have a friend on Facebook who posts her workouts every day with distance and motivational speeches all typed out for the world to enjoy.  I used to see them as motivational, too.  Now they goad me.

How do you best overcome a waning spirit?  Sit on the couch and type letters to yourself?  Or throw on a pair of tennis shoes and go out for a run?

Thank God He made the sun shine today.  I guess I'll be seeing you later!

How Girls on the Run Made Pookie Fearless

The following is an essay Pookie wrote about her experience training and running a 5K with Girls on the Run this spring.  She didn't win the essay contest (even though I totally think she should have) so now I can post it here! 

Enjoy!


My heart pounds, my legs shake, and my lungs are on fire! Well, that's what I used to fear about running.

Running used to make me feel depressed. It was so hard. I would always come in close to last. My P.E. teacher said everyone in my class had to finish running a lap in 3 minutes, but she would always say to me, "That doesn't mean you, Pookie."

You see, I was born with a hole in my heart. I've had 6 open heart surgeries to fix it, so running has always been hard for me. My doctor told me not to run long distances. 

Then I heard about Girls on the Run and I really wanted to join. I thought it would help me practice so running would not be as hard for me. I didn't have to be fast, and that was good! My doctor said yes!

I'm still not the fastest, but running is getting easier. Now I'm finishing a lap in P.E. in under 3 minutes! I've made new friends and I've learned really cool new cheers. We've learned a lot of healthy habits, too!

When I run, my heart still pounds, my legs still shake, and my lungs still feel like they are on fire, but I'm not afraid of that any more. Thanks to Girls on the Run, now I'm fearless!

A Runner's Heart

About a month or so ago, I visited a doctor that I've seen regularly for 15 years.  I'd say the guy knows me pretty well in terms of being his patient. 

He delivered all four of my kids. 

Anyway, last month he listened to me breathe and checked my heart and - in betwixt and between a myriad of things we discussed that day - he told me I had a heart murmur.

I guess most people would be sort of unsettled by that news.  Or maybe everyone. 

I was terrified.

After all ~ two of my children have heart conditions...7 open heart surgeries between them.  My father died from heart-related complications.  My brother lives with atrial fibrillation...

I honestly could go on, but I think you get the picture.  There is a long-standing family history of heart issues here.

I carried a heavy weight on my shoulders for a number of weeks.  For a while I'd been ignoring chest pains and heart flutters mostly while running but occasionally at rest.  In my defense, I'd taken 4 solid months off from any exercise, so to some extent, I could somewhat conscientiously chalk it up to getting back into shape (it's highly unfortunate how quickly one can actually get out of shape...).

Needless to say - I wasn't entirely surprised by this diagnosis.  But I was still very scared to hear the words.

I began imagining my kids without me. 

I stopped running.  Again.

I waited.  For doctors' visits, for test results, for relief from the bad news. 

I prayed.

Fortunately, good news came - relatively speaking - quickly.  The cardiologist listened to my heart.  He listened from this angle.  From that angle.  Back here.  Over there.  He sat down.

I braced myself.

"What you have is a runner's heart,"  he explained.  Through the course of several more tests, he determined that my heart is very strong, and when it beats, it pumps blood so forcefully across the valves that it causes a 'swooshing' noise that, to the untrained ear, can be construed as a murmur.  He will see me routinely based on family history to assure me that someone - with a trained ear - is listening for changes, but in the meantime, I am running again.

And since the weather is gorgeous ... at least for two days in a row ... I'm out there getting my run {back} on.

In fact, this past weekend, we traveled to Nashville for our annual Country Music Marathon (half marathon this year).  And I came away with a new personal record.  Considering I barely trained, I'm proud as a peacock at how well I did on those hills.  Only 4 minutes more to shave off and I'll be at my lifetime half-marathon goal.

Hooray!!!

... So, I guess I'll have to keep running ...



post-race:  PRs for both



 

Thanks to the ILs for photographing this year :)



The Karathon 2010

Yesterday was the perfect day to run 26.2 miles! Not only that, it was the perfect day to celebrate my birthday!

My family came out and lined the path at various points with their hand-made signs and pots-n-pans. I'll never forget at the 3 1/2 mile mark thinking, 'well at the very least, let's pass those walkers' in the distance. Come to find out, it was my in-laws, quickly making their way back up the trail to be ready for me with their signs and noisemakers. So fun!

Around mile 6, I met up with Tracy - a fellow Nashville Marathon t-shirt wearing runner --- a total stranger --- who ran miles 6-8 with me.

Throughout miles 10 through 18, JT and Pookie met me periodically in Kirkwood to refill my Gatorade and check on my progress.

My mom and the other 3 kids found me back on Grant's Trail at about mile 21 - at which point, T valiantly tried to convince me he could run the last 5 miles with me. He made it just over 0.15 miles before I turned his red-faced, side-gripping 8 year-old self back around to find his grammie. Mom told me later he sat along the side of the path for quite some time, crying, after I left him :(

JT and Pookie rode their bikes by my side for the last few miles. I finished the distance in 5 hours and 30 minutes - my initial goal.

I may well try another marathon one day. Hands down, The Karathon will forever be my favorite race, though. After-all, I was The Winner!

Country Music Marathon 2010

(before re-routing...after, I looked more like the gal in the background...)

I haven't written about my experience with running the marathon last weekend except to mention that weather impacted my ability to finish. Specifically, race officials decided to re-route full marathoners to the half marathon course well before the initial cut-off (due to traffic issues, to be allowed on the full marathon course, runners have to pass the 11-mile mark prior to 10:30). We were scheduled to pass this point well before the cut-off, but just a few minutes before we passed the check-point, I overheard 3 Team-in-Training members (Leukemia/Lymphoma Society runners) mention the marathon route had already been closed. I sped up a little at that point and ran to the official at the 11-mile marker. Indeed, the route was closed, no ifs ands or buts.

The decision to close the race was due entirely to forecasted weather in the downtown Nashville area. As a family, we were well aware of the weather, because my aunt had been sharing the forecast with us for several days prior to our arrival. We waited up Friday night to catch the weather on the news, and my uncle awoke early Saturday to find the latest, as well. In retrospect, race officials even sent an email the day before the event informing racers that the route may be closed at the 11 mi-marker for those pacing slower than a 10:20 mile, we just weren't home to receive the email since we traveled to Nashville on Friday.

To say I was devastated is an understatement. In all my female glory, I cried. Indeed. But I wasn't irrational about it. I kept running, and I finished the half marathon with a crappy time, but I'd been pacing for the full, so whatever. I ran by someone who said she was from California and that her trip had been a waste of time. I crossed the finish line with half-marathoners who complained when I was handed a full marathon ribbon but only finished the half (they were apparently unaware that I had been re-routed due to weather). I didn't even want the medal. I felt like a cheat. I had only finished half my race. Hubby told me to buy the 26.2 sticker for the back of my van regardless. I said no way. I didn't run 26.2 miles. The longest distance I ran in training was just over 20 miles. (3 times, but still!)

My father-in-law told me yesterday that people all over Facebook are lambasting the Country Music Marathon officials for their decision. That makes me angry. Last year a Marine died after running the half marathon in Nashville - temps at race end were topping 90 degrees. Another runner died in the Chicago Marathon in '07. So the weather never became as dicey as predicted in downtown Nashville. Who cares? Wouldn't you rather arrive alive than second guess mother nature and keep running? Race officials did everything they could to keep us safe. The Rock 'n Roll series added 50 spaces to two sold out events - in Seattle and San Diego (too far for me) to accomodate runners from last week. They've reduced the price of next year's event for us by $50 (a substantial reduction). To complain is assinine.

As for me, I will finish my full marathon distance. At least, that remains my goal. All the events close to home for me in the next several weeks are already full. So this weekend, I plan to run the race on my own, here in St. Louis.

And in the meantime, I pray for Nashville. My aunt sent an email that the beautiful Opry Land Hotel, right where this picture was taken two Christmases ago is under 4-5 FEET of water.

The Wyndham Resort, behind the hotel is being evacuated due to chest-high waters. The city and people of Nashville need our prayers. No angst over last week's run from this humble St. Louis girl.

RUN NASHVILLE!

Ike Wins Again

More thoughts to come...but I have just a minute to update.

Storms projected to come through Nashville forced race officials to detour the full marathoners to the half marathon route. Unfortunately, we were not able to complete the full marathon today.

Marathon Man

I interrupt my story of bargain shopping to bring you this story:

The Story of a Marathon Runner

We returned from Nashville this afternoon (thus the reason for no posts lately). I hadn't made it clear to yah'll here on the blawg (notice my newly enhanced southern drahwel?) that JT and I were puttin' a few miles under our feet here in the last few days. Specifically, we took on about 15 pounds of water apiece last Sunday whilst running 13.1 miles in the pouring rain in our own fair city. We both set new personal records for our half marathon pace, though I'd hoped for just a little better numbers on my part. I knew six days later I'd have my chance to improve my time - since I'd be running another 13.1 miles on the streets of Nashville (one year after our first half, documented here).

(here in StL, cold and wet after a decent 13.1)

Yesterday in Nashville, I ran my second half marathon in six days. I recovered fairly well through the week from muscle aches, purple toes, and blisters. I went into the race feeling strong. I passed my pace team - twice. But about miles 6-8 I began to realize it was getting hot. Very hot. And it wasn't just me. It was Nashville. In the end, I only shaved 10 minutes off last year's time. And I'm OK with that. (There's always next year, right?)

(here in Nashville pre-race with my in-laws; my MIL's kajillionth half - she's a pro! My FIL's first @59!)

Now, here's the real story of the day! My husband is now a marathon runner. In case you didn't know, a marathon is 26.2 miles. Twenty-six point two miles. Of running. On streets. And JT ran it. He finished. And at the end of the race, the temperature in Nashville was 90 degrees. (about 30 degrees hotter than a decent running temp!)


I had the distinct privilege of watching marathoners cross the finish line for my first time yesterday. Men and women who made a decision to do something few of us ever will do to and with our bodies. They set a goal and went about accomplishing that task. One. Step. At. A. Time. I saw broken spirits. Within sight of the resolution of their efforts. I saw triumph. I saw mothers and fathers lift their babies across the fence holding spectators back and proceed to carry those little miracles across the finish line with them. I saw a woman fall on the concrete at my feet from intense, excruciating cramps in her toes. Other marathoners stopped to aid her in pushing her feet forcefully toward her nose to counteract the cramping. I saw a man lift his two sons over the fence to accompany him to the finish. Before he could manage another step, he vomited. His young son patted Daddy on the back, took his hand and helped him up to finish his race. Another, aided by the cheers of the crowd, began running only to stop again, walking to the finish. Finishing as strong as he could summon. In the heat. Searing, burning heat.

And, just as we were beginning to worry. Starting to fear that the heat had grown too strong, too much to bear. Just as the concern began to overcome us and force us to run along the sidelines to find him, to catch a glimpse of a green jersey. Right then, my mother-in-law and I saw him. We saw JT with a determined look. A strong stride. A man who had on that day become a marathon runner. Round the corner. Eye his family. Renew his strength. And cross the line. Tears ran down my face from relief. From happiness. From pride.

My marathon man.

(He looks good, doesn't he?!)