Revel Rockies - July 19, 2015

You could probably call this the race that almost wasn't. In fact, for many half marathoners, this race actually wasn't, but not for me. The race was officially cancelled about 10 minutes before the half was supposed to start, but I ran it anyway... Let me explain...

A couple of years ago, I met an ultra runner whom I greatly admire. She's strong, she's tough. She's much faster than me, but I'm not sure she would be called elite. She is absolutely elite in my eyes, but that's because she's such a running beast. On top of that, she's supportive... even for a turtle like me. When I heard about the Revel Rockies race near her home in Denver Colorado, I asked if I could plan a trip to visit. And soon, another friend of mine decided to make the trip to Colorado with me to also run the race.

Having lived in Florida for the past 10 years, and having had asthma for the greater part of my life, and having heard horror stories about altitude and having experienced altitude issues myself while in Utah last summer, I knew that I needed to plan accordingly. I didn't have a lot of time, but the plan was to fly to Denver on Thursday, accompany my 2 friends to Aspen and spectate the Aspen Marathon, thus allowing time to acclimate. Then one Sunday, we would meet up with another friend flying in from California, and we would run the Revel Rockies Race.

The best laid plans...

Unfortunately, although packet pickup was smooth and seamless, race morning was an absolute disaster. The race was point to point starting at the top of a canyon, so we had to meet busses early in the morning to take us from parking to the starting line. My friend from Colorado was running the full marathon so she had to meet her bus earlier than the rest of us, so we arrived at the parking lot super early. We waited in the car after she left to catch her bus, then we saw a line starting to form for the half marathon buses. It was bitter cold, but we donned our plastic bags and went to stand in line for the buses.

During the next hour or so, I only saw a total of 5 buses, and they were all for marathoners. We waited and waited. We knew it was about a 20-30 minute drive to the starting line and we all started to get antsy when we knew that start time was fast approaching and the buses still never came. It was like Waiting for Godot. about 15 minutes before the race was scheduled to start, one of the volunteers came to tell us that they were trying to figure out the game plan because the buses never came, and they would update us. Less than 2 minutes later, we watched in shock as we saw all of the people in front of us scatter and start running back to their cars. We looked around confused for a few minutes, unsure of what was happening and meandered to where the front of the line had been. And on the way, my Florida friend learned through a post on the event organizer's facebook page that the half marathon had been cancelled.

I was in shock. I think had I not been so cold and tired, I might have been more upset, but at first, I just stood there dumbly. Until the frustration set in. I had spent a LOT of money on airfare, and expenses. I had taken unpaid time off of work. I had acclimated (although not well because I really wasn't feeling well). I didn't want to accept cancelled as an answer.

I'm not officially a member of the 50 state half marathon club yet (though I plan to be before the end of the year), but they have some guidelines for what counts as a race. As a member of half fanatics, there are other guidelines. My friends and I quickly brainstormed what we would have to do in order to be able to still run a half marathon and have it count for both clubs. We tried to rope others to drive with us to what should have been the start of the race, and run it with us anyway... But they wouldn't.

Eventually, we learned that if we could get ourselves to what should have been the start line within the next hour, we could still run, although we still didn't know whether our times would count, whether we would be entitled to course support, and whether we would get medals at the finish. We didn't know whether others were running the course also, so we didn't know if there would be the required 20 starters that the half marathon clubs require. But we were willing to gamble.

We piled into the rental car and drove to the start line, leaving our car in a frozen yogurt stand parking lot. We would worry about the logistics of retrieving it later. We looked what should have been the starting line and saw that there were others with the same idea.

We jumped on the course and started running.

My race was off from the start. As a back of the packer, I knew that I might be without other half marathoners for most of the course anyway, but with no real pack, I was literally on my own from the word go. Although there was a bit of a crowd (the same logistics that cancelled the half marathon messed up the full marathon and the crowd was really small), I never actually felt like I was running a half marathon.

Instead, I was left feeling like I was doing a 13.1 mile training run, crashing the course of the full marathon. The course was gorgeous, but I was too sick and dizzy from the altitude to really enjoy it to the fullest. Other runners would pass me and realize that I was a half marathoner and ask what had happened, but I didn't really know. All I knew was that I was on my own... and it was tough.

I saw a lot of people struggling out there. After the sun came up, it went from bone-chilling cold to brutally hot, and a lot of people were unprepared. I think a lot of people also underestimated the altitude. I know I certainly did.

Although I had allowed myself to acclimate, I stupidly thought that I might even PR this race because it was almost entirely downhill and was billed as a really fast course because of the altitude decline... but instead, it was the opposite. By mile 9, I was nursing a really ferocious headache. By 10, I was dizzy and nauseous. By 11, I felt like a jackhammer was splitting my skull open. By 12, I was delirious. I sat down on a guardrail to catch my breath and contemplated the race. I wanted to finish more than anything. But I also knew that I was sick. I took a selfie and realized that my lips were turning blue.

I quickly did a little math in my head. I'm no mathematician, and considering how out of it I was, I'm not sure how accurrate this was, but I remember thinking I had at least another hour for the course to remain open (if I was allowed to finish the race considering that technically I was a bandit on a cancelled half marathon). I weighed my options. If I quit due to the altitude (which would have been a respectable quit in retrospect), I would have to spend all that money again. I would have to acclimate to the altitude again. I would have to do the entire race again... and it just wasn't worth it.

So I sucked it up. I finished, but that last mile took me a ridiculously long time... almost a half hour to be exact. The course was kind of jacked in that it ran a little long, and the final stretch was back uphill after a steep and steady decline through the canyon. That seemed a little sneaky to me, but who I was I to complain.

I crossed the finishline, and immediately sought out medical. I've never seen a setup like this before. Medical was not immediately at the finishline, you had to go over a guardrail and down a little hill to get to them... and I didn't see them immediately and started to panic... which of course only heightened my problems. Another runner saw that I was in distress and escorted me to medical. Where I promptly took a breathing treatment and sat for awhile on oxygen. I think that I might suggest that should this race series return to Colorado they revisit their setup for finishline. food trucks do not need to be immediately on top of the finishline, medical DOES.

In the end, although it was a rocky start, and although I never really felt like I got the experience I was looking for, it was a state that I finished. Not every race can be excellent and run smoothly... But I finished, and that's all that counts. There will be other races on other days.

Gun = 4:52:28
Chip = 3:48:31
Pace = 17:26/mile

Halloween Half Marathon, Miami Beach - October 25, 2014

I spent the entire month of September slacking off in the running department. I told myself that it was to help recover from the nasty feet injuries that I had been dealing with for almost the entire past year, but that's not true. I kind of talked myself into thinking that I couldn't find the time to go out for a run with my hectic new schedule of teaching in the evenings, but that's not true either. I could have gotten up in the morning to run if I had really wanted to. I forced myself to go to the gym to try to keep up my cardio, but in the end, I realize that it was more of just going through the motions, rather than pushing myself. The fact, plain and simple is that I was feeling pretty l-a-z-y during the month of September, and I just didn't wanna.

But then, just as I was emerging from my lazy-funk, I suddenly lost my voice. Normally laryngitis wouldn't be a big deal, but it developed into something more. 3 days later, not only did I no longer have a voice, but I was starting to audibly wheeze from somewhere in my throat. Throat wheezing is nowhere near as scary as bronchial wheezing so I dismissed the symptoms as just some fluke allergy issue.

getting ready

But the next day, I developed a cough. A deep dry cough that was as unproductive as congress is frequently proving to be. I sounded like a child with whooping cough, and I couldn't catch my breath. I rushed to the emergency room, where it was discovered (after a few consecutive albuterol nebulizer treatments) that I was in fact having a horrible acute asthma attack. It took me almost a week and a half to recover and feel that I could breath sufficiently without the help of pharmaceuticals.


When this past weekend rolled around, and it was time for the Halloween half marathon in Miami Beach, I knew that I would really have to focus and hold it together just to finish upright, but I also didn't want to take a DNS (did not start) on this race.

with Brina and Seth, my running and travel buds

In some respects, I feel like I really surprised myself, yet in other ways I really felt like I let myself down. For example, I am surprised that I got out there and finished in a decent time considering that I had a fluke respiratory issue in the 2 weeks leading up to the race... and on the other hand, I feel like I let myself down by only being able to run my intervals for the first 6.5 miles and then choosing to walk the rest. In some ways I was surprised that I could make it 6.5 miles doing my intervals in the first place, and then I felt let down that my pace was horrendously slow.

I love having a Garmin to be able to really keep myself in check and ensure that I am staying on pace, but it can be a double edged sword... something that I realized at this race.

My friends Vikki and Richard were completing their first halfs

While its great to keep yourself on track for pace, there is such thing as being too clock and pace obsessed.  I wouldn't say that its a debilitating obsession or anything, but it is definitely something I am concerned about. Whereas earlier in my running half marathons journey I might have been less concerned with the pace if I was having an off day, at the Halloween race, it was clear that not making my interval times (for legitimate reasons like coughing up small children from my injured lungs), was just another reason to get down on myself and start with the negative self-talk.

Gone seem to be the days where I just focused on the running and the journey of it all, rather than the finish.

For this reason, in this post, I wont be including my finish time or my place like I normally would. I'll just say that I finished faster than my first half marathon, but not by much. And that time's not bad considering how under-trained I was... something I am not so proud of.

What I can say about the course is that it was a million times better than the course for the same race as last year. The race started at Jungle Island where the parking was a nightmare. I needed the rest room before the race, and because we had difficulty parking and had to walk to the port-o-lets, we actually arrived back at the start line after the gun had already gone off. The course took us up and over the Macarthur Causeway for approximately 4 miles and into South Miami beach where we ran through South Point Park. From there we traveled approximately 4 miles along Ocean Drive to  Lummus Park and along the boardwalk to a turnaround point where we then looped back to the finish. While It was considerably a better course than last year's with no "hardpacked sand" to run along, we spent the majority of the race running on bricks and concrete. Again, I loved being on the boardwalk but the boards get incredibly slick from the humidity and dew, and I am afraid to fall on my face.

Because most of the race is off of pavement, the jury is still out as to whether I will run this race again next year. But they do have awesome finishers medals, and it is an opportunity to dress up for Halloween and run a race.

What do you think of my lady bug costume?

Half Marathon 28 complete!

Disney Princess Weekend, Princess Half Marathon - February 23, 2014

This is post 2 of my recap from Disney's Glass Slipper Challenge of a 10K on day 1 and a half marathon on day 2. Part one can be found here.

I've got to say, this was a tough race, and I wasn't feeling it from the moment that we returned to the hotel room after the 10 K the previous day. I was in a funk. My foot was bothering me, and the humidity from the day before had really gotten to me. I think I had also overdosed on my albuterol during the race which also can lead to a lot of self-loathing. I had been texting with my friend Julia the night before the race, telling her that I wasn't feeling it... and was actually considering not going to the startline the following day.

But of course, I set my alarm anyway, and that 2am wakeup call came, and I was wide awake and ready to give it the good-ole-college-try. I had hoped that if I repeatedly told myself I was going to be ok, and I was going to have a good time... that I actually might start manifesting that as reality. But the minute my feet touched the floor, I knew that there may be trouble brewing. That pesky heel pain was back, though at a very dull achiness, but this was certainly not a good sign. I got myself ready, had a good cry, then woke the other girls up to begin the day.

We arrived at the start line very early, and were all so exhausted that we cat-napped in the car for a little bit. I had made plans to meet up with some people before the race, but we wound up blowing them off to steal the extra relaxation time. Brina and I were in a higher corral than Kelly and Michelle, but Brina really wanted to share the race experience with them, so she moved back. I was concerned that with the foot pain I was already having, I might lose my pace and run the risk of being swept, So I split off from them and headed to my corral alone. I still wasn't feeling it and was considering getting out of the corral altogether, but then I ran into someone I knew in passing from facebook who was running her first half marathon, so I stayed in the corral. I have to say, that I really liked Disney's new corralling system where the corrals are smaller and the gap between them is only 2 minutes... it made the start line process much more bearable, and soon it was our turn for our send off. Unlike the day before where the runners in my corral moseyed through the start at a snails pace causing an intense bottleneck, during the half, there was running from the start, and I had a little more room to maneuver.

Like most halves where I start the race with a few minutes of running before breaking into my run/walk/run intervals, I got 5 full minutes of running in straight out of the gate. I'm used to having some arch pain during my first long run period, but this day was different. Every time my right foot hit the ground, I got not only the shooting pain up through the trigger point in my heel, as well as a sharp pain in the outside of my ankle.

That ankle pain was ultimately the pain that brought me to the doctor last summer because over the course of a run, it had me worrying that I had fractured a bone in my ankle. It turned out not to be broken, and was instead swelling inside one of the bones in my ankle, but was left inappropriately treated for months and we only found out what was wrong with it this past December when I found a new podiatrist/orthopedic surgeon. But I digress. What you need to know here is that the pain I hadn't felt in this intensity for over 5 months was back with a vengeance. Normally the pains that I feel when starting out on a run will subside by the time I hit 10 minutes into a run, but these pains weren't subsiding... and in fact were getting worse the further I went.

At that point, I REALLY wasnt feeling the race. The self-loathing began in earnest. Crowds have a tendency to make me angry, so being in a field of 30,000 racers wasn't making this experience any easier. And on top of this, the fog wasn't lifting (fog also makes me nervous, I can't explain it, so please don't judge), it was really hot, and the humidity was hovering somewhere around 96-98%. This was NOT fun, and I soon made the informed decision to slow myself down to a walking pace. Even walking, I was passing people left and right and getting stuck behind large groups of women who were walking 6 and 7 abreast at a slower clip than I was... again, increasing my frustrations. I tried to put on some soothing music to calm my nerves, and that worked for the most part, at least until I got to the parts of the course where there were extreme bottlenecks, where we had to take the cloverleaf interchanges. These stretches of road do vile things to my feet and ankles because of the extreme camber. But I kept going.

I had hoped to get in some character stops, but every time I passed one, the lines were ridiculously long. Because my pace was already so slow, I didn't want to lose any more precious minutes of the race and add to my risk being swept. I did stop in Magic Kingdom to wait in line for a photo in the alcove in front of the castle, but that ate up at least 5 minutes... and left me feeling more anxious.

Not anxious enough to not stop and make a pressed penny later in the park or take a picture of myself in the stockades near the Haunted Mansion, though. I also stopped to take picture of me pulling the sword out of the stone, but I accidentally jumped the very short line here, and felt awful about it for the rest of the race. Oops. Sorry.

The rest of my time out there passed in a flurry. I kept moving. One painful step in front of another. Zoning out. I was emotional and wanted to cry. I found myself asking why I do this at all. I was sad and hurting physically and mentally. By mile 9, it was taking every fiber of my being to keep going because I just didn't care anymore. Only twice have I ever thought about taking a DNF at a race... once last year at my terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad race at Singer Island which was brutally hot, and once at the brutally cold race in Albion, Montana.... but this would be number 3. And this time, the desire to just give up was worse than those two events. This time I found myself saying that after this race not only would I be done with running Disney, but I would probably be done with running altogether. I found myself realizing that this wasn't fun. And if I'm not having fun, why even bother?

I told myself I could revisit the idea of quitting in another half mile, and kept going. Somehow a half mile later, when still questioning quitting, I gave myself another half mile. and from there, it was half mile to half mile. I could make the decision later. And somehow I found myself rounding the corner and seeing my favorite sight ever.

The gospel choir.

There is something to be said about that gospel choir. During my first half marathon, I saw that gospel choir. Being Jewish, I am not sure that I believe in the idea of heaven the way that many Americans do... but seeing that choir was the closest thing to heaven I had ever felt.... and during this race, it was no different. I knew that the finish was right around the corner, but these singers took away much of the self-hatred that I had been simmering in for the previous 13 miles. If asked, I'd probably tell people that my absolute favorite part of the Disney race experience is this choir, and that experiencing the crowds and bottlenecking on the course is ALL worth seeing and hearing this choir. It gave me the strength that I needed to push myself forward through the finishline.

And hug Mickey Mouse when I got there.

Net- 3:51:51
Pace 17:42/mile

Definitely not the greatest, but even with all the stops for photos on the course, also not the worst.

Half #19 done!

Now to get that swelling under control before deciding whether I will participate in half #20.

Disney Princess Weekend, Enchanted 10K - February 22, 2014

It was going to be a long weekend. I'd run back to back (x6) races before, but struggling with Bronchitis last week, and still feeling iffy on my foot at times, I knew that the dreaded 2am wakeup call for the first race in the Disney Glass Slipper Challenge would come too early.

It was a girls weekend with my friend Brina, Michelle (her best friend growing up), and Michelle's cousin Kelly (who believe it or not, is a legitimate reigning beauty queen formerly holding the title of "Mrs. Arkansas Woman" and currently holding the title of "Ms. Woman World Elite Grand Champion"). I've got to say, these were absolutely amazing women, with such amazing stories to hear, and though we probably stayed up way too late each night (considering we had 2am wakeup calls), I wouldn't have had it any other way. But still, it was hard to raise myself up out of that bed in the morning. Anyway, I digress.

We got up early, got dressed and headed off to the start line. Like always with the Disney races I have experienced, the crowds were monstrous. We stopped for a quick photo standing in front of the start line, and then trekked over to the start line party where we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

By the time we were allowed into the corrals, my feet were already on fire from standing around so much! Brina and I were in a different corral than Michelle and Kelly. The plan was for Michelle and Kelly to run separate, but for Brina and I to run together. You know what they say about the best laid plans, right?

I had never run a 10k before. Going into this event, I knew that I severely disliked the 5k distance (because believe it or not, it always feels so God-awful long), but I didn't know what to expect for a 10k. I know, I know, the next day would be my 19th half marathon, and half marathons are considerably longer than 5ks, but still... there is something about the shorter distances that gets to me... perhaps that it really takes me a few miles to feel like I even want to be out there, I don't know.

Getting ready to start, I was feeling jittery, yet excited from the pre-race atmosphere. As our corral was moving up to the start line, I realized I had to use the bathroom. I always have to use the bathroom right before a race, but have learned that this is just nerves and I quickly lose the urge once I get moving, so I thought little of it. I reminded myself to calm down, took my inhaler and before I knew it, the fireworks signifying our start were going off.

As soon as Brina and I crossed the start line, we were shocked. It didn't feel like a race start. People were just moseying across the start line like a herd of cattle, slower than anything I had ever seen or experienced before. And this herd never seemed to break up and actually pick up speed. We darted and weaved. Brina would bounce through a group of people and I would do my best to follow, or at least keep her within a couple arm's distances away. At multiple points we were grabbing one another to steer through this crowd. Not only was it annoying, it was downright dangerous. Not even 10 feet into the race, we watched 2 people who were immediately in front of us collide and fall down, leaving us to jump around them lest we be taken out with them. Yikes! I knew the field for the race was ridiculously large and that the course would be packed, but this was something else entirely.

We had started near the back of our corral, and passed probably 3/4 of the people we started with before we even got to 3/4 of a mile... but the crowds never seemed to let up. And on top of the super slow pace, people were stopping in the middle of the right-of-way to take photos and ooh and aah over the Disney eye-candy. By mile 2, the pack had spread out enough for me to get a decent run/walk/run interval going and I was at my pre-injury pace, albeit wheezing very loudly, and coughing up a lot of gunk. I could tell that Brina was getting impatient with me for not being able to keep up, and for continually losing her in the crowd, so I asked her to go along without me, which she did.

And then something amazing happened. We hit a very dark area of the course and over the sound of my music, I started to hear something. It was the strangest sound, so I pulled my earbuds out, to take it all in. It was silence. People had stopped talking, and the course was almost silent except for the sound of sneakers hitting the pavement all around me. I had never heard anything like this before, and it was totally surreal. Unfortunately it didn't last long because we were soon at a water station and the chatter began, but I would have dealt with the insane crowds again and again in order to just experience this sound again. It's funny. I paid all this money for a Disney race, and the one experience from this event that will probably stick with me forever is that moment on an access road without music or entertainment, and just the sound of feet.

Pretty soon, I was entering into Epcot's World Showcase near China. I rounded the corner and saw the flaming pillar and got excited. I'd never run through Epcot before, so this was definitely a first. And while the World Showcase was an awesome experience, with 98% humidity, a fog that hadn't yet lifted, and the heat index rising, I was having more and more difficulty catching my breath. What's more, the ground in the World Showcase was damp and slicker than a freshly surfaced ice rink. I knew that I needed to protect my feet, and I my steps became even more tentative. We exited Epcot through the Disney Boardwalk. In all my times going to Disney, I don't think I've ever been to the Disney Boardwalk, and it was a really neat experience. Running on the boards was sweet relief to my feet and bad ankle after the slickness of the World Showcase, but once again, the participants were significantly bottle-necking. I think on my next trip to Orlando that I may want to visit the Boardwalk again to explore a bit... but again, I'm digressing.

Leaving the Boardwalk, I became acutely aware that I had I still had to use the restroom. I was about 5 miles in at this point, and right on pace, so I kept chugging along. The breathing was getting more and more difficult and the pain was amping up in my bad foot, but I kept pushing. I was going to finish strong. The course took us back through Epcot and around Spaceship Earth. And then the cramping started. I had to go to the bathroom so bad I was almost doubled over in pain. I knew I could push it and make it to the finishline, but waves of nausea were threatening. So I made a bee-line to the nearest bathroom...

At something asinine like mile 5.8 or 5.9.

In a 10k race, this is the equivalent of stopping right before the finishline. The entire time I was in the bathroom, I was beating myself up. Obviously, I am my own worst enemy here, because the stop was REQUIRED, but still... I was taking every opportunity to be mean to myself. Personal note to self: be gentler on myself in the future.

I came out of the bathroom and wanted to cry. Disney races are so crowded that most people know not to count on them to get a personal record, but somehow, through it all, I was right on track for one. And I had thrown it all away, in the blink of an eye.

But I finished, and in the end, I guess that's all that really matters. I got the same medal as everyone else. And I also got some personal knowledge to boot. I'm not a big fan of the 10k distance.

Chip - 1:41:57
Pace - 16:27/Mile.

Day one of Glass Slipper Challenge finished. The Half the next day wouldn't be as "easy" on me.

Sick little princess

Just a quick little update as I prepare to head off to Orlando for the Walt Disney World Princess Half Marathon weekend and the Glass Slipper challenge (a combination of a 10K on day one, and a half marathon on day 2). I am SUPER STOKED about this much needed girls weekend away, spending time at Disney World's Epcot and Magic Kingdom, and  the actual races.

If you remember, I was supposed to run the Disney Full Marathon back in January, but my foot injury prevented me from participating. I left the weekend happy to have supported my friends, but sad that I wasn't able to enjoy all of the RunDisney festivities.

I feel like this is my time to get my RunDisney fix. a much needed RunDisney fix.

So, I'm all packed and ready to go. But I'm bringing a whole lot more stuff than I had planned.

A whole extra bag.

My bad of drugs.

Lots, and lots of drugs.

Because, yep. I'm sick again.

Turns out that although I felt great for the majority of last week, and although I made it through the Ft. Lauderdale A1A half marathon on Sunday without any problems... I never really kicked the crud that I picked up during marathon weekend as my lovely souvenir.

Apparently it just went into hiding and came back no less than 20 minutes after crossing the finishline at the race. Except now, instead of a sinus infection, it is very clearly bronchitis with asthmatic symptomology. I feel like that PSA about asthmatic children with the fish flopping around out of water.


Which poses an interesting situation for me. Of course I am going to listen to my body... but I am also going to cross my everything that the medications work fast... because if there is one thing that I have tons of experience with... it is asthma and bronchitis.

Up until I started this whole running thing 2 years ago, I let breathing problems dictate what I couldn't do. I really struggled with running and calling myself a runner because my whole life I had been told I couldn't... and now, going into this weekend... I am finding myself in the same old battle of feeling like my breathing will hold me back.

I could use all the positive juju I can get right now. Because I want to be a Disney Princess.

A1A Ft Lauderdale Half Marathon - Feb 16, 2014

Let me just say that there is no doubt that this race is BY FAR, my absolute favorite race, with the flattest fastest course that I have ever seen. I love this race. It was my 3rd race ever last year, the first race that I really felt my body working to PR at when I first started running half marathons, and a race that I really looked forward to this year... despite the ongoing health saga that I seem to have been dealing with the past few months.

I had finally kicked my illness that in retrospect may have actually been the flu, I was breathing great without having any residual coughing or wheezing. My body seemed to be recovered from the Miami half a couple of weeks prior (I was SORE SORE SORE for days after this half as it had been my first back after my awful foot injury), and I wasn't really experiencing any twinges of pain that may be residual from that injury either. I was stoked for this race.

And it didn't let me down.

The night before the race, I had a sleepover at my friend Seth's house, and we stayed up probably a little later than we should have laughing and talking about our races past and our upcoming plans for the future (another 5 in 5 days in April). We finally went to bed around 10pm, and I barely slept. Part of that was being somewhere other than my own house... the other part of that was probably just standard pre-race jitters. Because he lives about 2 miles from the start line, that meant that we got to sleep in a little the next day, but the wake-up call still came a little too early for my liking. We got ready, had a few wardrobe disasters, and headed to the start.

We met up with some friends before the start, and headed off to the start corral. One of the things that I really enjoy about this race is the soft starting corral system. This year, there was a huge group of charity runners from the Hebrew Academy for Special Children, and they all staged at the back of the corral.

While I love charity runners, and while HASC is great because they take kids and teens with disabilities to do something amazing at these events, it was quite difficult to share the course with them. First of all, they notably had WAY more energy than anyone should legally have at that hour. Second, when the race started, a number of these kids plowed their way through the waves of runners who were aiming to improve their times, and who had just as much right to the course as anyone. Again, I want to clarify that they were an amazing group to share the course with and they really inspired me to be the best I could possibly be... but in the end, they were just waves of teenagers who didn't really understand race ettiquette, who ran zigzagging patterns through clumps of runners (running me over in the process more than once), who stepped on the heels of runners (myself included again), and who walked 4-5 people abreast with the strollers and were not aware of runners trying to pass them.

And while I loved that they were so supportive to one another in their endeavors, after 10 miles of having one girl continually screaming and whooping in my left ear, I was ready to put her in her place. Thankfully, I didn't because I reminded myself that they were just as entitled to be excited about their first race as I was excited about mine... but that doesn't mean that I didn't *want* to say something.

And now, I'm sure that I sound like a grumpy old woman who begrudges the neighborhood kids who walk across her yard on the way home from school...  But I swear it wasnt like that. I think these kids just needed a little more training in ettiquette and what to expect during a half marathon and it would have made the experience more pleasant for everyone involved.

The course this year was the same as years past. It started next to the Museum and went down Las Olas, across the drawbridge (that thankfully didn't open!), and out to the beach for a spectacular sunrise.

From there, we traveled about a mile north then west for a quick 3 mile detour through John Hugh Birch State Park. I think the park portion of this race is absolutely my favorite part because the road is narrow, and there are overhanging trees and it is shady and peaceful. By the time I get there, the crowd has thinned out a bit and I am able to get into a good groove. It winds up being a very serene and peaceful time running. At that point, I was well aware that I was on track for a PR.

entry to the park

But the truth is (and I think I was trying to deny it), it wasn't really a PR that I was on track for... it was complete burnout. As a run/walk/runner, I do 60 seconds of running followed by 60 seconds of walking and repeat through the duration. Under normal circumstances, I will average about 15 min per mile for the first half of a race, and then get a bit of burnout at around mile 9 and struggle the rest of the way. I know I fall apart, but there doesn't seem to be much that I can do about that. Finishing up my first 10k, I was averaging 14:33 per mile, which I somewhat feared I couldn't maintain, and would lead to a massive breakdown around mile 9. But I couldn't seem to slow myself down to better pace myself.

I was feeling excellent. I was happy to be out there. I was happy feeling the ache and burn in my muscles. I was happy to be alive. I left the park, and ran past my own personal little cheering section (I have a friend who is a TNT coach and who is super supportive of me). He told me to slow down a little, but I was on fire. And it sounds funny saying that because my "on fire" pace is still comparatively so slow when you consider others... but whatever. Enough self-depreciating talk.

I headed back out to the beach and north until mile marker 8 where the turnaround was. And suddenly, the sun was REALLY hot. it had been chilly when the race started so I wore a jacket. I was overheating but the breeze off the ocean gave me a chill when I unzipped my jacket. I felt my face getting sunburned. Those last 4 miles were bound to catch up to me. I knew with every passing interval, I was about to hit my breaking point and have my never-fail break-down moment where I would fall apart.

But it never really came. Sure my time slowed down as I entered the last 2 mile home stretch. I wound up missing my PR by less than 2 minutes, but I never really broke my stride.

And apparently I didn't break my heel either because there was almost no pain in that pesky injury!

Before I knew it, I was entering the chute and collecting my medal. No PR for me, but I got something way better.

The knowledge that even after such a bad injury and months laid up, I'm back! And I'm just as strong.

Gun- 3:23:07
Net- 3:18:01
Pace- 15:07/mile
10K Split- 1:30:20
OA- 3204
GRP- 266/285

*strangely, about 20 minutes AFTER finishing this race, I once again developed a cough and severe wheezing indicating an asthma attack. I haven't had a legitimate attack in years. not sure why it happened after the race rather than during, but hope it gets gone quick, I've got a big weekend coming up!

I'm a slacker

I've run into a slight snag with my training for my big birthday trip... I had originally wanted to spend last week running 5 miles per day, all 5 weekdays... but then the storms came. While I enjoy a nice rain (both misting and torrential downpours) while actually out on my runs, I find it so difficult to motivate to leave the house while it is raining.

When the rain comes while on a run, it serves to cool me off after I have already worked up a sweat. If I have to leave the house while it is raining, I go from dry to soaking wet from rain, and I just hate that.

So last week, I managed to run 2 nights in a row. The next night I was rained out. The 4th night of the week I was also rained out, so Ray and I went to watch the basketball game with friends who are on the Superman Walks Project Tommy's Dream Team. Then Friday, it was threatening rain all day, so I skipped my run for a double date with some friends to see The Great Gatsby.

But as the week progressed, I found myself worrying about something else as well.

With the constant threat of storms lately, my migraines have been out of control. But with the really high humidity index, my asthma has been out of control.

While I am happy to say that I haven't really had to use my albuterol, I have noticed a significant impact on my breathing. I've been short of breath for about a week, and have had some sporatic issues of being unable to catch my breath while walking outside. This makes keeping up with my training difficult.

I know that running in the morning will probably help ensure that I get these runs in, but my sleeping patterns have been messed up for years. The current trend is that I go to bed at 12 exhausted and wake at 4am... but then I am so groggy and out of it (from the sleep medication that I didn't fully sleep off), that motivating for a morning run is just not happening.

I feel like a slacker. I feel like a loser. I feel like a failure.

I have goals. And I know I wont be able to meet those goals if I don't buckle down and get the training done.

The good news is, the earnest training for the 6 in 6 challenge doesn't need to start until Monday.

In the meantime, I will keep on with the 30 day squat challenge.


Technically I am on day 15, but I missed a day this weekend so I repeated. I already notice a difference in strength... That first day when I did 50 squats, I thought my muscles were going to explode. Now it takes getting past 100 to feel that way, and I don't start struggling until I hit about 120-125.  Tonight I do 135, so we'll see how that goes.

How long before I am supposed to notice a difference in my body though?

Jazzercise, anyone?

This is not a running related post, but I wanted to blog about it for 2 reasons: 

1) it has to do with fitness to a certain extent,

2) it is a cute picture, and I wanted to share it.

Oh, and after this photo was taken, I was impressed with myself. So I guess that's actually 3 reasons.

If you don't know me well, or if you are just stumbling upon this blog randomly, you should probably know that other than running, I deeply enjoy giving back to the community through charitable works. For me, a lot of that charitable work is done through my membership with the 501st Legion. This organization is a screen accurate Star Wars costuming club that brings a love for the Star Wars movies to many people in an effort to not only share the passion for the movies but to help raise monies for charitable organizations which serve high risk, disabled, sick, or terminal children (to name a few). In my house, Ray is the big Star Wars fan, and I participate in this organization entirely as a way for us to do something together with the added charitable component. 

Recently we were invited to attend a local Relay for Life event at a local park. When we arrived, one of the first things that I noticed was how my costume would be needing some serious modifications as I was shrinking out of it. I've already replaced my boots because the calves were swimming on me, but as time goes on (eventhough we have already established that the scale isn't moving), I may need to revisit other components of the costume.

And that is incredibly exciting for me.

But what is even more exciting is that before I began this running thing, when we were interacting with the crowds at big events, I frequently felt myself huffing and puffing inside my helmet. I would be able to dance with the kids for maybe the chorus of a song, but much more than that, and I would get lightheaded and need to step away from the crowd to recoup. Last year, we attended a Star Wars themed wedding, and while I was able to dance for the majority of the evening, I never did much more than sway side to side performing dance moves similar to a slow-dance from 8th grade.

This time, things were different. After the first lap of the Relay for Life event, the music started blasting, and the stage was taken by two people from Jazzercise (you know, that aerobic half jazz half dance program that you haven't heard about since you last wore scrunchies and slouch socks).

And like at previous events, as I heard the music and I saw people dancing, I started to sway my hips and bob my head. And the Jazzercise women encouraged me to try the moves. So I did. And I picked them up. Really well.

And one song blended into another. And that song ended, and I found myself going up the stairs and joining them on the stage, because... well... what's cooler than a Star Wars character dancing on the stage with a couple of super fit women? And the song ended, and another started. I felt myself getting winded, but I kept going.

The moves were tough but I managed to hold on, finishing almost the entire half hour routine. 30 minutes of aerobic activity. Who would have ever thought I could not only do that, but do it in a complete costume? I certainly wouldn't have put my money on that bet!

I had a great time. And I'm considering attending a local studio that hosts jazzercise classes.

But when I do, I hope to leave the Star Wars costume at home.

Coral Springs Half Marathon - March 30, 2013

I've got to admit, this spring, I have become completely addicted to the half marathon distance. 

13.1 miles sucks. At my pace, it takes me well over 3 hours, and with my attention span? I'm lucky if I ever do anything for more than an hour at a stretch.

But there is something about 13.1 miles that just really works for me. Unlike 3.1 miles (a 5K) or 5.12 miles (my normal training run), 13.1 miles gives me that opportunity to do something other than just focus on running and finishing. In a 13.1 mile run, I get to really enjoy the process. 

I think maybe it is the difference between rushing through something for the destination, vs. really enjoying the journey.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, but as a general rule, I try to avoid inaugural events. There was a time when we didn't care if it was an inaugural event or not, but we've been burned one too many times with promoters who have a disregard for safety or organization... and after experiencing the poison-water-pocalypse that Sunshine State put on, you could say that I've become a little gun-shy.

On the other hand, in order to get a good jump on my absolutely ridiculous goal to finish 13 half marathons in 2013, and knowing that the race season pretty much stops between May and September in South Florida, I knew I didn't have many options. The race season was winding down, and my options were running out.

So that meant I had a decision to make, would I register for the Coral Springs Half Marathon because it was really close to home, and take the risk? In the end, I decided it was worth it, and I promptly roped my friend Brina into attending with me, as her first race as a Half Fanatic. 
 
I'm glad that I entered this race. Despite the half marathon distance being a first time event for this promo group, whether it be the location or the give-aways, the volunteer support, the amount of law enforcement and traffic control, the friendly faces, the SUPER clean port-o-janes that came complete with running water for handwashing, the fuel and water stops, etc... I found that this race surpassed all of my expectations. I will DEFINITELY run this event again.

HFs Juanita, Bobby, me and Brina

The field of racers for this event was small, and the starting location was at a park, so this meant that parking and finding the start line was easy. After arriving at 5:00 for a 6:00 am gun, I met up with my friends Brina and Juanita for a pre-race Half Fanatics photo. 

When the gun went off, Bobby and Juanita said goodbye, and took off at their own pace. Brina, who had previously run the 13.1 Miami Beach race with me and later claimed to have really enjoyed our time together, opted to run this race at my pace again. I was thankful for the offer, because truth be told, after the excruciating pain I had felt not 2 weeks before at the Shamrock 10 Miler, I was concerned about whether I would be able to finish this race. Better have someone fun to distract me, than get swept in the first couple miles of the race, right?

Just like in other events, the race started and I began to regret my decision to enter. I don't know what's wrong with me. I go to these events, I get pumped about actually doing them, but then right before the gun, I get sick to my stomach and want to go home. Then I actually start running, and the first tenth of a mile I question whether I really want to be doing this, whether I enjoy this, and whether I might have been better off staying home in bed. That first tenth of a mile ALWAYS gets me.

The gun goes off, and we inch our way forward and begin our first running interval, and my brain wont let me get out of my own way. To distract myself, I picked a woman about 10 yards in front of us, and the goal was to pass her. In 13.1 miles, we didn't manage to pass her, but it was a distraction for a little while.  We giggled our way through the first 5 minutes settling into a nice pace.
 
We got to about a half mile in, and I realized I was holding back. I don't want to push it today, I said.

I'm scared my feet are going to hurt, I told her.
  
I (legitimately) was scared. I had no arch pain yet, but I knew better than to count my chickens.

You know? I just want to enjoy the journey. Lets forget about times and pacing. Lets just enjoy the morning, I suggested. 

And it sounded like a great idea. I did want to just enjoy the journey and forget about packing and times. But that is so much easier said than done.  

At mile marker 1, I didn't care. But by mile marker 2, I was chomping at the bit, dying to know what we were pacing. The sun had come up, I was enjoying myself, Brina and I were joking with one another, and we were having a great time with other runners too. But I was itching to know what kind of pacing we were making. I had a vague idea based on the clocks at the mile markers, but I wanted more accuracy.

Every so often Brina's Garmin would chirp and she would look down and smile.  I'd beg her to tell me, and she would just brush me off and start in on another story. By mile 4, I was going nuts.

Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! I begged. 

56:12. She said. 14:03 per mile.

Call me shocked. And still no pain. And we kept that pace up until around mile 10, when I began to feel some blistering in my left baby toe. And then after another half mile, there was some blistering at the right ball of my foot area (probably from compensation from the blister on my left foot).

Then around mile 11, when we began to get into the home stretch, I bottomed out. Because of course, nothing is easy with me and something always seems to go horribly wrong.

The sun was high in the sky, the temperature was rising and the air was becoming thick with humidity. I felt under-hydrated, and my stomach was upset. Every time I tried to push forward with a run interval, it felt like a 10 ton elephant was sitting on my chest. I couldn't catch my breath.  Up until then, we were on pace to finally make it to my goal of a 15 minutes per mile finish time, but I also knew the risks of pushing it when I can't catch my breath. We slowed down.

Me with my 6th finish for '13, Brina with her 3rd

At mile 12, we passed a girl from Black Girls Run who was having some severe dehydration issues. I always said that even when I had a PR so close I could taste it, I would stop for another runner in distress... so of course I stopped to help her out. After giving her some much needed fluids from my hydration belt, we kept going.

Pretty soon, the finishline party area was in sight. And Juanita was standing there with her post-race flip flops and sweatpants on. I heard Juanita asking Brina if she knew what the clock was reading, and I heard Brina whispering back that she didn't want me to know.

Juanita jumped onto the course with us and I heard the thwap thwap thwap of her flip flops behind me.

As I rounded the corner and the finish line clock came into view, it was like having my own private cheerleaders.

You can do it! You're almost there! You're gonna PR!  Push it! Go! Go! Go!

And like that, I pulled out all the stops. The 10 ton elephant sitting on my chest and I sprinted toward the finish line. With Brina quick on our heels, that elephant and I ran like we've never run before.

Brina later told me that in the home stretch, we were running at just over 8 minutes per mile. I would never be able to sustain something like that long distance, because even doing what I did made me nauseous, dizzy and turned my lips blue... BUT, I did it.

Oranges, just what this (future) doctor ordered.

And that's got to count for something.

Chip - 3:17:23.330
Pace - 15:04
Overall - 509/531
Gender - 303/321
Category - 53/53

I had hoped to finish at or below 15 minutes per mile... which I didn't quite do, but I'm happy with what me and my own personal elephant accomplished. And hey, no arch pain.



*As an aside, in order to reach the next "moon" level with Half Fanatics, I needed to either complete 3 halves in 16 days or 6 halves in 6 consecutive calendar months or 8-11 in 365 days. For those playing at home, the Coral Springs half was my 6th in 2.5 months. Finishing this race qualified me to move from the Neptune (1-moon) to Uranus (2-moon) level.

The next stop is Saturn (3-moon) level with 4 halves within 37 days or 12-18 halves within 365 days or 4 halves in 4 different states, countries or Canadian Provinces in 51 days. If  When I finish my 13 in 2013, that will qualify me to moon up. Saturn, here I come.