A last-minute Run on the Bayou 10k

On Saturday morning, I woke up to a gray, chilly day, temperatures still in the 40s; in short, perfect race weather. My marathon was the next week, but I grabbed some coffee, went downstairs, and discovered the Run on the Bayou 10k in nearby Westwego. I threw on clothes, grabbed my Garmin, and drove across the Huey P. Long bridge to race.
As it turns out, the race is in lovely Bayou Segnette park. I found it easily, parked, and registered (just $30 even on race day!). There were plenty of bathrooms, and I had enough to time to work in a warm up of a little over a mile. My knee has been bothering me, so I put a strap on to support the pes anserine tendon, and did my Myrtles before I started. It was a small race, and the course was really perfect - flat as a pancake, and mostly really pretty and really easy to run. There is a loop through an RV park that was slightly less scenic and a little treacherous thanks to a few errant RV drivers, but mostly it was along woods and a pretty bayou. I was sort of near the front at first, and after being passed by a gentleman in a hooded sweatshirt in mile 2, I hung behind him for most of the race. Although I was a little far behind, he was like a hook, and kept me moving! I saw at a turn-around that I was first female, and the second and third were far behind.

The cold weather was amazing, and I felt like I wasn't working terribly hard, but I had no speed at all. Just nothing. Also, my Garmin is trash. It's a 620, and I blamed crowded courses for its significant problems on my two recent marathons. But this was a small 10k, and that thing was off by almost a quarter of a mile! That really threw my pace calculations off, and I was distressed at the finish to see that my "keep it under 6:40" plan was not even close. I am most annoyed at this. What's the point of having a Garmin if I can't get some idea of pace?!

For once I remembered to actually lift my arms out of my own way at a finish.,,

Anyway. After the winner finished, the lead bike came back to get me, so I finished part of the last mile with a biker again. I could totally get used to this. I finished in 41:38 Garmin (the race does gun time for overall so it's no doubt quite a bit longer; I started well back to avoid sprinting out with the 5kers). It was a fun last minute little race, a rust-buster for next week, and again, a good omen! You know how I like to do well at a race the week before a marathon!

Art refresh

In the Arts and Crafts Market in Beijing, David and I wandered into a brush and ink store that sold finished art in a back room. While most of the art was framed, in the corner was a stack of well-thumbed pieces priced to sell - and easier to transport than framed art! We spent awhile looking through the art before choosing one. I immediately eliminated pieces that weren't a good size for my house (we have high ceilings, so small art gets lost) or would present framing difficulties. If art requires custom framing or a custom mat, I usually don't buy it. Then we started looking for art we liked. We narrowed it down to two pictures: Both had children, but one was a more classic rock-and-tree picture and the other, well, featured a goose. But I just thought it was charming, and against my more practical aesthetic judgment, we got the goose picture. I's a little odd: two large images compete for focal point status, and the composition is strange. That doesn't prevent me from liking it a lot, though!

It was high time for an art refresh in my dining room, so I swapped some art out and put my new picture on display. Love it!

It's quality week!

The way my silly training plan (of two marathons three weeks apart) is going, this is my quality week. I had one week of much-needed recovery (my muscles were very sore post-race, thanks to taking in almost no nutrition for a day post-race when I had a stomach bug), then I'll have one week of taper, with this week of real work thrown in the middle. 

I took it easy on Monday anyway, running 5 miles easy with a group, so I wouldn't be too tired to go to the track ten hours later. But I was still tired at the track. 

Harrell Track

I ran 6x1 mile, and I was in the 6:50's the whole time. And it didn't feel effortless, either. I can definitely tell I'm still tired! You know when you have heavy legs? I had that even during the recovery portion. With 400 jogs, warm-up, and cool down, I hit 9 miles. 

Tomorrow I'll do a slow medium distance run, like ten maybe, and then actually attempt a tempo on Thursday. After that, workouts will drop in distance and intensity until the race WHICH BETTER NOT BE A MILLION DEGREES, DO YOU HEAR ME, BOB BRECK?*

After track today, I did active isolated stretches, form drills, and myrtles. I do the drills on the turf and just stretch in a lane, since the track is usually abandoned. Then I zipped over to the grocery store around the corner from the track and grabbed my mid-week fresh groceries (mostly fruits and veggies, but also snagged a warm-from-the-oven loaf of French bread we had for breakfast!). And when I got home, I did a long hip-strengthening workout. All before 7:30 am! 

Hopefully this week will all feel ok, but of course, the big test is the tempo. I'll check back after that attempt.

*My favorite, now-retired, weatherman

You can't cheat Hansons

Lesson learned from the Louisiana Marathon: You can't cheat Hansons Marathon Method. That's kind of what I set out to do, and as you know, that didn't produce the most spectacular results.

Heading to a slow finish

Heading into the race, I had high hopes, because my tempos and long runs had both been fast for me. But that speed didn't translate into a fast race. Why?

1. The tempos were on fresh legs. My tempos felt fast and easy because my legs weren't tired, not because I was in amazing shape. This summer, I struggled during every single tempo. But that was because I followed the training plan very closely. They were hard because I was tired, which is the whole point. In December, my tempos were fast because I was cutting corners. I only did the last four weeks of the training, and I cut the mileage in sneaky ways, like minimal warm up and cool down or shortened easy runs.
2. I never got to cumulative fatigue, because the training was too short. I mentioned that I had a solid 229 miles in December - a lot for me - but that November was 146 and October just 119. The only way Hansons allows you to get away with just a few long runs of just 16 miles is because you complete them on exhausted legs, tired from months of long miles daily. I totally skipped that part.
3. My long runs were too fast. I wanted to run more by feel this cycle, but that resulted in me started at long run moderate pace and ending much faster, faster than marathon pace for some long runs. I've been gravitating toward accidental progression runs lately, but that means that I'm faster than even Hansons allows (the book recommends 40 - 45 seconds slower than goal marathon pace). I do my pace calculations a little weird, since I base everything off a 26.3 mile marathon - something that I intend to change. I know that my Garmin readout is off, so I assume it will read at least 26.3 at the end of a race. But this new 620 is off even more than my 305, so that my last marathon I had 26.5 at the end! But anyway, using 26.3 as my distance, I'd need my Garmin to read 7:10, so I should be running long runs around 7:50. I had some down in the 7:40s or lower! Now, given my ACTUAL marathon finish, I should be closer to 8 minute pace....but hey, how was I to know. The point is, I cheated myself out of time on my feet with my faster long runs. And I think that time matters.

So what does this mean for my next race, fast approaching on February 5th? Probably another slightly undertrained race!

Recovery week and transitioning to the next race

It's Thursday, and I'm still sore. Actually, my recovery has been awful, with Tuesday being especially bad. My quads hurt so much on Tuesday that I had to bump down stairs on my rear. I'm not exaggerating.
Why so bad this time? Well, I think there are a few reasons:
1. I was undertrained (I mean, I hit the wall. I wasn't ready for the distance). I had 229 miles in December, but just 119 and 146 in October and November, respectively. I wasn't physically ready.
2. I didn't eat enough post-race. Usually I'm starving the day after a marathon, and eat plenty of carbs and protein to aid in muscle recover. But this time the worst thing that could happen, did: I caught a stomach bug. As soon as we got home from Baton Rouge, David started complaining that his head hurt. Then he was nauseated and throwing up. By bedtime, I had it, too - and you know it's hard to eat after a race, so I hadn't had that much yet. Normally it's the next day that I get my appetite back, but instead, I spent Monday taking Zofran and trying not to throw up. I had half a bagel all day. I think that made a huge difference in my recovery.

I do have to start thinking about my next race, though. It's February 5th - right around the corner! That means that I kind of have to run long this weekend - IF I'm feeling up to it. I think I will: the muscle pain is almost gone. But I am going to play it by ear. So here is my race-the-next-marathon plan:

If I feel good Saturday: 16 long this weekend.
Next week: back to speed, tempo, and 10-mile long run.
Race week: taper.

If I feel ok Saturday: 10 mile long run this weekend.
Next week: No speed on Tuesday, but do Thursday tempo, and 8-mile long run.
Race week: taper.

If I feel tired Saturday: 8 mile long run this weekend.
Next week: No speed on Tuesday, but Thursday tempo, and 8 mile long run.
Race week: taper.

The plan is to hopefully do one solid week to get back on track, then rest again for the next race. I'm sure this will be very interesting!

Louisiana Marathon race report

Here's the detailed recap of how Sunday went down:

We got up before 4 am to make it to the start by 6 am. I was meeting a friend who'd picked my packet up for me. Only - they couldn't find my packet! Eventually they issued me a new bib and a new number, but I was disappointed not to have a personalized bib, because I'd asked for it to say "Captain Slow" as a nod to James May from Top Gear (this drama resurfaced later in the race, as anyone tracking me was using my published race number. They were getting results for it, too, just not my results, so apparently someone else was out there running with a "Captain Slow" bib!).

Visibility nil.

The drive up was dreadfully foggy, and the starting line so humid and foggy that visibility was  seriously impaired. I was nervous waiting for my friend - parking was nuts, but she finally got to the start at 6:40, leaving me just twenty minutes for the bathrooms, warm up, and corrals.

That's the start at the state capitol. Yeah. You can barely make the tower out! Incredible fog! 

My friend, saving the day by getting me ANY race bib after the race gave mine away! 

I scratched the warm up, but since the corrals were closed already, I had to start all the way from the back and work my way up. At the gun, I took a gel. I've never done that before, but I read it on the Hanson's blog and decided to try it out. Conclusion: bad idea for me. My blood sugar peaked (ran too fast!) and then plummeted in the space of ten minutes. From then on, I was playing catch-up with fuel.

The race start. This is what running in 100% humidity looks like.

Miles 1 - 6: From the beginning, my Garmin was way off again. This meant that my early miles all show as much faster than they were, until I once again turned off autolap. I finished this race with 26.47 on my Garmin, the furthest I've ever been off the distance! I definitely think my 305 was more accurate. But anyway. I have little to say about this portion, except that it's a gentle downhill grade, and we were all still sorting out. I was too fast for some of the first miles: 7:03, 7:03, 7:00, 7:11, 7:05, 7:12. Even in the jumble, I realized I was either third or near third. And too fast or not, I definitely didn't want to give up a potential podium spot.

Miles 7 - 10: By mile seven, I was definitely being accompanied by a biker with a "2" on his sign. Well. This was interesting. Of course I started thinking about the possibility of being first. But I was also already going too fast! What to do? I decided to risk it and go for a win. Maybe I'd crash and burn. But maybe everyone else would, too! And then in moments, I was up on top of the first female. She was already feeling the humidity and dialing back expectations. Not that I wasn't feeling it, too. I was having trouble breathing! 7:06, 7:09, 6:54, 7:04.

Miles 11 - 13: A glance back told me that there was a very strong woman firmly making her way through the pack towards me. By now I was SO far off the mile splits that I switched to manual lap (and promptly forgot to hit lap). I was enjoying the company of a fellow runner who was doing the half. We'd been chatting for awhile and I was coaxing him along. But in reality, his presence was a help to me, too. I sorely missed him when the half split off. 15:07 (for two miles - notice how off my Garmin already was!), 7:13. Immediately my mile splits were more reasonable.

Miles 14 - 18: Feeling lonely on the suddenly-empty full course, I tried to turn on my ipod. I messed it up royally. I kept accidentally turning it off, unplugging my headphones, hitting pause - finally I stopped and fixed it. I was really feeling the humidity now, and my clothes were damp and heavy. Lady number two was just seconds behind me now - six seconds, as I verified at a turnaround point. I was starting to feel the early speed. 7:18, 7:09. 7:17, 7:07, 7:14.

Miles 19 - 21: Suddenly I could sense the wall approaching. There was no stopping it. I was trying to take in fuel, but I couldn't correct the damage I'd done, and I couldn't do anything about the suffocating conditions. The sun mercilessly came out. My six-second lead shrunk to one or two, and finally the second woman passed me, looking strong and offering encouragement. No way I could stay with her. 7:20, 7:19, 7:25.

Not smiling. That's a grimace.

Basically dead.

Feel like crap.

Miles 22 - 26: Demoralized, exhausted, overheated, and shaky, I trudged on. My mile splits grew worse and worse, especially for the overpass (the only real hill on the course). I took some salt I'd brought with me, but to my horror the next water stop was...missing. How that happened I, and other runners I talked to, never figured out! My mouth just burned for miles. My biker told me that the third female wasn't even in sight. Miles 24 and 25 were pathetic. Then I turned the corner, finally, and there was the finish. I could hear friends cheering and, in downright agony, finally crossed the line. And then my legs turned to jelly and I had to get help to walk! I was dehydrated, overheated, and miserable. 7:31, 7:33, 7:51, 8:25, 7:49.

My legs quit

After I was done, I ran over to give David a kiss. He was completely surprised to see me, since the race app showed the leaderboard, and I wasn't on it. I'd briefly popped up as twelfth, then back off -  that's because I was listed under my original number! So he didn't expect to see me finish second.

Then I gave two short interviews for local news stations, while trying not to fall over.

Sure, I'll stand here for 5 minutes.

I met the first-place woman in the stretching tent, and she was super sweet. She's obviously usually much faster than today, but was quite gracious and kind. I was especially impressed with how strong she ran because she is from Vermont! You know this heat was a surprise to her! I also stayed to talk to many friends who also ran. It was so nice to receive both their congratulations and their commiseration. A non-runner friend will tell you congrats, expect you to be thrilled; a runner friend will be like, "Sorry your time was no faster than last race"!

Louisiana Marathon: Sometimes you have to take the risk

My race Sunday didn't go as planned at all. Of course, I already posted about the weather situation: warmer than expected, but worse, incredibly humid. After I got my hopes up Saturday when the temperature forecast dropped a little, I woke up to 100% humidity. Yes, that's right, 100%. At least up until 11 am, when it dropped to a cool 98%. What a relief, ha. It was 62 at the start, rapidly rising through the 60s and stabilizing, for the duration of my race at least, at about 68. So actually, cooler than I thought - but oh, dear me, the humidity was killer.

And then I threw my race plan out the window. Purposefully. Because sometimes, you just have to take big risks.

Early on, I knew I was one of the top women. As the pack sorted out, this biker was hanging out by me...I realized, I had a pace bike! It turns out I was third. But by mile 7, I was second. And by ten, I couldn't help but pass the woman in first, who was already fading in the humidity. I made the choice to try to go for the win, but in doing so, I gave up on running a manageable pace. I was feeling the humidity, but a strong, dogged woman was right behind me (she'd moved solidly up from fifth or sixth to hanging a few seconds behind me). It was a huge risk - I knew I was at a pace I couldn't maintain, so my only way to win was if the second woman faded as much as I probably would! But she was a better racer and runner than I. At mile 21, I hit the wall, and gave up first to fall back to second. I struggled terribly, dealing with the heat, humidity, and the hole I dug myself. I ended up missing both my time goal and the win, although I was very happy to take second place.

It was a rough way to race. I would do it again, though. The last few miles were really, really hard: the sun was out behind the sheets of fog, heating the course like a steam room; I dropped my gel; I was mentally drained (leading a race with close competition is TOUGH, hard work!); there was oddly one less water stop than I thought?!; and I was totally exhausted. Hitting the wall is the worst! But I had to respond to that chance. I ran 3:12:07, even slower than this fall, and a much more poorly-run race. Next time I take a risk like that, I want it to pay off!