Saturday, July 6, 2013

The difference between my Fourth of July celebrations last year and this year is kind of amazing. Last year, I was on a rooftop in the East Village watching hooligans launch fireworks into a rival building (which was actually kind of hilarious). This year, I went camping! I was much happier this year. I don't have any photos, unfortunately, since the lack of cell signal drained my phone before I could snap any, but it wasn't the most stunning place anyway (think trees and a creek), so you're not missing out on much. Happy birthday, 'murica.

----

Long weekends are so nice. Like, I've already had an entire weekend, but it's only Saturday morning! What am I supposed to do with all this free time?

Go hiking!

Love this picture. 


My thighs are definitely feeling this. Marathon training does not a hill-climber make. 


HD: higher-quality but more prone to blurriness. Call it a deliberate aesthetic choice.

During this hike, I came up with a super awesome invention that may or may not exist and that may or may not be possible.

My big Nalgene is the only non-leaky water bottle I own. However, I didn't need nearly that much water, and the bottle is nearly as big as the pack I was planning to carry. I like having the option to carry an entire liter (pint? I don't know anything about liquid measurements), but oftentimes I don't need that much water.

Being the enterprising soul that I am, I decided it would be cool to have a water bottle that can hold a liter of water, but that can also be compartmentalized to allow excess space to be used for food or other storage. I'm an idea person, so I haven't thought at all about how to actually do this; it's obviously a really developed idea. Any investors?

----

Running may or may not start up again tomorrow. During my hike, a fellow hiker told me he had seen a black bear so I spent a lot of time scanning the area instead of looking at my footing. This resulted in me stepping on a shifty rock that re-tweaked my right ankle. Amateur hour! It doesn't hurt that much, but I'm a big believer in waiting until body parts are 110%, so I might have to give it a few more days.

Question:
  • Do water bottles like the one I described exist?

Tent > East Village

The difference between my Fourth of July celebrations last year and this year is kind of amazing. Last year, I was on a rooftop in the East Village watching hooligans launch fireworks into a rival building (which was actually kind of hilarious). This year, I went camping! I was much happier this year. I don't have any photos, unfortunately, since the lack of cell signal drained my phone before I could snap any, but it wasn't the most stunning place anyway (think trees and a creek), so you're not missing out on much. Happy birthday, 'murica.

----

Long weekends are so nice. Like, I've already had an entire weekend, but it's only Saturday morning! What am I supposed to do with all this free time?

Go hiking!

Love this picture. 


My thighs are definitely feeling this. Marathon training does not a hill-climber make. 


HD: higher-quality but more prone to blurriness. Call it a deliberate aesthetic choice.

During this hike, I came up with a super awesome invention that may or may not exist and that may or may not be possible.

My big Nalgene is the only non-leaky water bottle I own. However, I didn't need nearly that much water, and the bottle is nearly as big as the pack I was planning to carry. I like having the option to carry an entire liter (pint? I don't know anything about liquid measurements), but oftentimes I don't need that much water.

Being the enterprising soul that I am, I decided it would be cool to have a water bottle that can hold a liter of water, but that can also be compartmentalized to allow excess space to be used for food or other storage. I'm an idea person, so I haven't thought at all about how to actually do this; it's obviously a really developed idea. Any investors?

----

Running may or may not start up again tomorrow. During my hike, a fellow hiker told me he had seen a black bear so I spent a lot of time scanning the area instead of looking at my footing. This resulted in me stepping on a shifty rock that re-tweaked my right ankle. Amateur hour! It doesn't hurt that much, but I'm a big believer in waiting until body parts are 110%, so I might have to give it a few more days.

Question:
  • Do water bottles like the one I described exist?

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Well, I didn't anticipate writing this post for another few days, but I actually had an evening to chill out and think on it a bit, so here you are!

----

I've mentioned that the Hansons recommend taking a two-week break from running post-marathon. I think they meant less sitting on my ass and more of a "light resistance training program or a cycling regimen," to paraphrase or maybe directly quote them, but whatever. I've been busy enough that I haven't even noticed I haven't been exercising, although I'll probably be itching to run a million miles by the end of this (long!) weekend.

I did get out today for a "hike" with Bailey, which was delightful. We saw a bear! It was tiny, black, and way too close for comfort. Bailey redeemed herself as a watchdog by sensing it and refusing to go any farther, preventing me from walking right into it.

I was obviously really into these flowers:






The sky looks strangely ominous here.




It's been a bit dreary here (but the heat's gone!), which seems to have caused a mass mosquito exodus. I haven't been bitten in days!

----

So finally, that elusive "what's next?" post you've all been waiting for! And by all, I mean approximately three people. And by "next" I mean the next two months, because I don't know what's up with grad school. I hear it's hard.

[Side note: before you worry your pretty li'l heads off, I do plan to continue running and blogging (albeit with much less frequency) in Eugene. A few of my coworkers have actually told me they were in the best shape of their lives during grad school (my boss, of Mayor's Marathon fame, joked that he may have been the worst student in his class-which I highly doubt-but he was by far the best marathoner), which bodes well for my hobby jogging career. I just can't commit myself to any specific race, especially since I tend to be a bit... obsessive? about training. Eugene 2014 is definitely a possibility, though. Billions of bloggers assure me it's a magical race. Longest side note ever.]

I've never been big on races, but I had such a great time during my marathon that I'd like to race again before the end of the summer. And since Alaska's the best, why not race here? Done!



Okay, I suppose "done" is misleading. "Done" implies that I've registered for something. I have not. "This is something I'm considering signing up for in the future" may be more accurate.

I was actually seconds away from registering for the marathon, thinking "I'm already trained! I'd just have to maintain my fitness for another six weeks! I could run a flat marathon and possibly drop my 4:20 Mayor's time!" Then the more rational part of my brain chimed in with "You just ran your first marathon. You have not been doing this for long enough to run another marathon two months after your first. Come on, now." 

So I want to run the half. Professor Amy said she likes to follow up marathons with a half because after 26 miles, 13's no big deal. I like the sound of that. And maybe, just maybe, I can end this 2:03-2:1?-2:04-2:11-2:04-2:11 (are you sensing a pattern?) curse of mine, even if that means running, like, a 2:06. I would love to break two hours, although that McMillan asshole tells me my 4:20 marathon translates to a 2:03 (noooooo!) half. Looks like it's time for some speedwork!

The tentative training plan is to ease into running over the next couple of weeks before busting out a few high-quality training weeks based very loosely on this plan I found. Its authors may or may not rhyme with Shmanson. However, I plan to give myself the option to hike on easy days because I've missed it so terribly, and if it seems like the mileage is too much, I'll modify. That's FLEXIBILITY, folks. Working on it.

Question:
  • What are your thoughts on how far to space out marathons when you're new to the sport?
  • DO YOU THINK I CAN BREAK 2:00 IN THE HALF? Because you obviously know absolutely everything about my running ability.

WHAT'S NEXT

Well, I didn't anticipate writing this post for another few days, but I actually had an evening to chill out and think on it a bit, so here you are!

----

I've mentioned that the Hansons recommend taking a two-week break from running post-marathon. I think they meant less sitting on my ass and more of a "light resistance training program or a cycling regimen," to paraphrase or maybe directly quote them, but whatever. I've been busy enough that I haven't even noticed I haven't been exercising, although I'll probably be itching to run a million miles by the end of this (long!) weekend.

I did get out today for a "hike" with Bailey, which was delightful. We saw a bear! It was tiny, black, and way too close for comfort. Bailey redeemed herself as a watchdog by sensing it and refusing to go any farther, preventing me from walking right into it.

I was obviously really into these flowers:






The sky looks strangely ominous here.




It's been a bit dreary here (but the heat's gone!), which seems to have caused a mass mosquito exodus. I haven't been bitten in days!

----

So finally, that elusive "what's next?" post you've all been waiting for! And by all, I mean approximately three people. And by "next" I mean the next two months, because I don't know what's up with grad school. I hear it's hard.

[Side note: before you worry your pretty li'l heads off, I do plan to continue running and blogging (albeit with much less frequency) in Eugene. A few of my coworkers have actually told me they were in the best shape of their lives during grad school (my boss, of Mayor's Marathon fame, joked that he may have been the worst student in his class-which I highly doubt-but he was by far the best marathoner), which bodes well for my hobby jogging career. I just can't commit myself to any specific race, especially since I tend to be a bit... obsessive? about training. Eugene 2014 is definitely a possibility, though. Billions of bloggers assure me it's a magical race. Longest side note ever.]

I've never been big on races, but I had such a great time during my marathon that I'd like to race again before the end of the summer. And since Alaska's the best, why not race here? Done!



Okay, I suppose "done" is misleading. "Done" implies that I've registered for something. I have not. "This is something I'm considering signing up for in the future" may be more accurate.

I was actually seconds away from registering for the marathon, thinking "I'm already trained! I'd just have to maintain my fitness for another six weeks! I could run a flat marathon and possibly drop my 4:20 Mayor's time!" Then the more rational part of my brain chimed in with "You just ran your first marathon. You have not been doing this for long enough to run another marathon two months after your first. Come on, now." 

So I want to run the half. Professor Amy said she likes to follow up marathons with a half because after 26 miles, 13's no big deal. I like the sound of that. And maybe, just maybe, I can end this 2:03-2:1?-2:04-2:11-2:04-2:11 (are you sensing a pattern?) curse of mine, even if that means running, like, a 2:06. I would love to break two hours, although that McMillan asshole tells me my 4:20 marathon translates to a 2:03 (noooooo!) half. Looks like it's time for some speedwork!

The tentative training plan is to ease into running over the next couple of weeks before busting out a few high-quality training weeks based very loosely on this plan I found. Its authors may or may not rhyme with Shmanson. However, I plan to give myself the option to hike on easy days because I've missed it so terribly, and if it seems like the mileage is too much, I'll modify. That's FLEXIBILITY, folks. Working on it.

Question:
  • What are your thoughts on how far to space out marathons when you're new to the sport?
  • DO YOU THINK I CAN BREAK 2:00 IN THE HALF? Because you obviously know absolutely everything about my running ability.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

I'm officially declaring this week a big ol' blog fail. Too much fun, work, and linear algebra going on. Therefore, you get another lame photo dump. Fortunately, it's a pretty photo dump:




There's a cabin on the left! I'd love to stay there sometime, although it books up months in advance.


We saw a rescue helicopter on the way down. They couldn't find their patient. Drama!

Hike to Crow Pass.

On my last post, Beth made what I can only assume to be a joke about "buying" my photos. To that I say, go right ahead and take them!*

----

I've gotten a few questions to the effect of "what's next on your racing schedule?!" and "what's going to happen with running when you head to grad school?", which I totally promise I'm not ignoring. I'd like to tell you that I've got a bunch of posts on the topic queued up, just waiting to be posted, but that's a big fat lie. The truth is, apart from a brief moment immediately following my marathon when I wanted to sign up for all the races, I decided to just bask in my post-race glow and not think about the future. Maybe next week, when I've got more time.

*NICE HUMANS WITH INNOCENT INTENTIONS ONLY. Companies and dumb people will be sued. I'm pretty sure this is what a lawyer would tell me to say.

Big Ol' Blog Fail (My Weekend: Part 2)

I'm officially declaring this week a big ol' blog fail. Too much fun, work, and linear algebra going on. Therefore, you get another lame photo dump. Fortunately, it's a pretty photo dump:




There's a cabin on the left! I'd love to stay there sometime, although it books up months in advance.


We saw a rescue helicopter on the way down. They couldn't find their patient. Drama!

Hike to Crow Pass.

On my last post, Beth made what I can only assume to be a joke about "buying" my photos. To that I say, go right ahead and take them!*

----

I've gotten a few questions to the effect of "what's next on your racing schedule?!" and "what's going to happen with running when you head to grad school?", which I totally promise I'm not ignoring. I'd like to tell you that I've got a bunch of posts on the topic queued up, just waiting to be posted, but that's a big fat lie. The truth is, apart from a brief moment immediately following my marathon when I wanted to sign up for all the races, I decided to just bask in my post-race glow and not think about the future. Maybe next week, when I've got more time.

*NICE HUMANS WITH INNOCENT INTENTIONS ONLY. Companies and dumb people will be sued. I'm pretty sure this is what a lawyer would tell me to say.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

I'm continuing to recover from last week's marathon, which has been great. I'm feeling well (ankle's still slightly wonky but almost back to normal) but waiting the recommended two weeks before running again. So far, I don't miss it! Here's what I did instead this weekend:



Those are seagulls. 




Mr. Grouch



A preview of part two:


My Weekend: Part 1

I'm continuing to recover from last week's marathon, which has been great. I'm feeling well (ankle's still slightly wonky but almost back to normal) but waiting the recommended two weeks before running again. So far, I don't miss it! Here's what I did instead this weekend:



Those are seagulls. 




Mr. Grouch



A preview of part two:


Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Continuing with our JEANO RAN A MARATHON coverage, I wanted to give the Hanson Method its own post. The Hanson Method was the unsung hero of Saturday's race. Yes, I put in a lot of work to get myself there, but without those crazy brothers I would undoubtedly have ended up

1) injured
2) hating running
3) dead

Okay, that last one may be a slight exaggeration.

As I've mentioned before, I chose to follow the Hanson Method without really knowing anything about it. The book was very convincing, but so are a lot of books. Their logic made a lot of sense, but so did "balancing humours" via blood-sucking leeches (!) at one time. I searched for bloggers who had followed the Hansons' plan to completion, ultimately in vain. Finally I decided to just go for it and see what happened. I would devote my body to science and prove, once and for all, whether the Hanson Method was to be trusted (I was obviously feeling a bit grandiose at the time).

So, now that all's said and done, did the Hanson Method do its job? Anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows the answer (and if not, what's wrong with you?! I thought we were friends!), but to anyone who stumbled upon this thing by googling, oh, I don't know, "sexy jogging pics" (moving up in life!), the answer is a resounding YES. With one caveat.

The Hanson Method took my running to a whole new level. The runner I am now is unrecognizable from the runner who started this crazy plan 18 weeks ago. I went from someone who maxed out at 20-25 easy miles a week (because of chronic shin pain) to someone who can very comfortably run 50 miles in a week. I no longer consider running six days a week something that only dumb, obviously disordered runners do. In fact, it's not that hard! The gains I have made are, in every sense of the word, incredible.

Now for my caveat, which relates specifically to the marathon itself.

There is something to be said for the peace-of-mind that comes with running 20+ miles prior to race day. For someone who has completed a marathon before, I think the Hansons' program is excellent as is. As a newbie marathoner, however, I have to admit that I questioned my ability to complete the entire 26 miles more than a few times during my race.

There were a lot of unknowns that came with maxing out at 16 miles: how was my stomach going to take it, were my shoes going to fall apart/give me a stress fracture, was my body going to disintegrate at mile 20? These are questions all marathoners face to a certain extent, but I think that in my case the "what the hell's going to happen to me" factor was upped significantly (both because of my shorter long runs and my unorthodox shoes). Although it runs counter to one of the Hansons' central tenets, I think I could have used a few extra miles on my long run for sanity's sake.

Unrelated photo of my shoes because I cannot tolerate a post without pictures.

My suggestion would be that if you follow the Hanson Method and are worried about the length of the long runs, add a couple of miles on. The Hansons say that the damage outweighs the benefits after three hours of running, and yet my 16-milers took me around 2:45. Faster runners could easily run 18-20 miles without violating the three-hour rule. Plus, I very highly doubt there is a sort of "cliff" at three hours after which your body falls apart. Going ten minutes over shouldn't do any harm. Don't sue me if I'm wrong.

I have no idea what plan I'll end up using for my next marathon (you read it here first: next), but the only reason I wouldn't use Hanson Method again is if I decide I want variety; using the same plan time and time again is probably pretty boring. But, you know, old habits die hard.

Question: does anyone want to know anything else about the Hanson Method, or are we all Hanson-ed out?

Hanson Method Review

Continuing with our JEANO RAN A MARATHON coverage, I wanted to give the Hanson Method its own post. The Hanson Method was the unsung hero of Saturday's race. Yes, I put in a lot of work to get myself there, but without those crazy brothers I would undoubtedly have ended up

1) injured
2) hating running
3) dead

Okay, that last one may be a slight exaggeration.

As I've mentioned before, I chose to follow the Hanson Method without really knowing anything about it. The book was very convincing, but so are a lot of books. Their logic made a lot of sense, but so did "balancing humours" via blood-sucking leeches (!) at one time. I searched for bloggers who had followed the Hansons' plan to completion, ultimately in vain. Finally I decided to just go for it and see what happened. I would devote my body to science and prove, once and for all, whether the Hanson Method was to be trusted (I was obviously feeling a bit grandiose at the time).

So, now that all's said and done, did the Hanson Method do its job? Anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows the answer (and if not, what's wrong with you?! I thought we were friends!), but to anyone who stumbled upon this thing by googling, oh, I don't know, "sexy jogging pics" (moving up in life!), the answer is a resounding YES. With one caveat.

The Hanson Method took my running to a whole new level. The runner I am now is unrecognizable from the runner who started this crazy plan 18 weeks ago. I went from someone who maxed out at 20-25 easy miles a week (because of chronic shin pain) to someone who can very comfortably run 50 miles in a week. I no longer consider running six days a week something that only dumb, obviously disordered runners do. In fact, it's not that hard! The gains I have made are, in every sense of the word, incredible.

Now for my caveat, which relates specifically to the marathon itself.

There is something to be said for the peace-of-mind that comes with running 20+ miles prior to race day. For someone who has completed a marathon before, I think the Hansons' program is excellent as is. As a newbie marathoner, however, I have to admit that I questioned my ability to complete the entire 26 miles more than a few times during my race.

There were a lot of unknowns that came with maxing out at 16 miles: how was my stomach going to take it, were my shoes going to fall apart/give me a stress fracture, was my body going to disintegrate at mile 20? These are questions all marathoners face to a certain extent, but I think that in my case the "what the hell's going to happen to me" factor was upped significantly (both because of my shorter long runs and my unorthodox shoes). Although it runs counter to one of the Hansons' central tenets, I think I could have used a few extra miles on my long run for sanity's sake.

Unrelated photo of my shoes because I cannot tolerate a post without pictures.

My suggestion would be that if you follow the Hanson Method and are worried about the length of the long runs, add a couple of miles on. The Hansons say that the damage outweighs the benefits after three hours of running, and yet my 16-milers took me around 2:45. Faster runners could easily run 18-20 miles without violating the three-hour rule. Plus, I very highly doubt there is a sort of "cliff" at three hours after which your body falls apart. Going ten minutes over shouldn't do any harm. Don't sue me if I'm wrong.

I have no idea what plan I'll end up using for my next marathon (you read it here first: next), but the only reason I wouldn't use Hanson Method again is if I decide I want variety; using the same plan time and time again is probably pretty boring. But, you know, old habits die hard.

Question: does anyone want to know anything else about the Hanson Method, or are we all Hanson-ed out?

Monday, June 24, 2013

Workout: rest, until the end of time...

Okay, not really. But the Hansons have told me not to run for two weeks AFTER MY MARATHON (did I mention I ran a marathon?!) and since I have a hard time letting go, I'm still allowing them to boss me around. Also, "being smart" and all that.

Professor Amy was wondering how I spent the rest of the weekend post-race. I am nothing if not obedient (see above) so I shall oblige, but SPOILER ALERT: it's rather boring.

You see, I am not the kind of person who wants to go to brunch after a race. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to celebrate. I just want to crash for hours and hours and hours, emerging from my cocoon days later when I'm fully restored/a beautiful butterfly. Or at least a few hours later.

I stayed at the race finish just long enough to pick up a shirt (it turns out finishers actually get a really nice long-sleeve technical shirt! I can't believe I bought one at the expo. Oh well, more for me!) before jetting out of there. No food, no attempt to find people I knew; I was done.

My parents were kind enough to drive me home and on the way, treated me to a Dairy Queen vanilla ice cream, my first calories after the race. That thing was heaven. Never mind the fact that it could have destroyed my insides (it didn't!); it was SO. GOOD.

That was all I got in me before passing out (okay, writing a blog post BECAUSE I'M A GOOD BLOGGER and THEN passing out), which meant I woke up many hours later half-crazed and ravenous. This meant one thing: pizza time. I got a pal to pick me up and drive us to a ("the," more like) local pizza joint, where I consumed my weight in chicken/bacon/ranch pizza. It was incredible and just what the doctor ordered. I chased my pizza with a couple of brews, although my tolerance was obviously affected by the marathon so I had to shut it down after two to avoid an overly-sloppy situation. And no, I wasn't wearing my medal. I would have liked to but I couldn't bring myself to be so open about my deep dark running secret. Plus, I would have been paranoid about people whispering about that douchebag in the corner wearing a medal.

I opted to go home straight after because I'm boring and wanted to sleep, but I ended up waking in the middle of the night going out of my mind with hunger. A bowl of cereal held me over until my morning pancakes, but I was a bit pangry for a while there.

I was pretty lazy on Sunday, as I felt was my right, but I was dragged to a dog show that was actually kind of hilarious. Also, I have a new best friend:

Jowls for miles

Sorry, make that two new best friends:

All the saggy wiener red-eyed basset hound things were wearing bonnets. I didn't get it, but I was overjoyed nonetheless.

----

Amy also asked what my boss (who really did save my race) said to me at work today. Well, it was pretty much what you would expect ("Fancy seeing you out there!"), but it was fun to tell him I actually ran the marathon (he thought I was part of a four-person relay). I'm not one to insert running into every conversation so it actually only came up with one other coworker, but her constant "I can't believe you ran 26 miles" was fun.

----

Finally, because Amy's basically drafted this post for me, my recovery!

My body feels great, for the most part. I was pretty sore yesterday (Sunday), but by this morning it had all but subsided. My legs feel surprisingly fresh and there's no hip/knee/shin/etc. aching whatsoever. I'm spry as a spring chicken! Well, except for my right ankle. I think the shifty gravel from miles 7-13 aggravated it because the inside wrist bone equivalent (does that even make sense?) is slightly bruised and swollen. There's some minor pain when I walk, but it's nothing major (hence, minor) and mostly goes away when I walk on it a bit. I'll definitely keep an eye on it, but I'm not too worried. And NO, COACH HOLLY, I WILL NOT RUN AGAIN UNTIL I'M COMPLETELY PAIN-FREE. I know you were worried.

It's funny how now that I've survived the race I don't really care what happens to my body. Like, come on, break everything, running gods! See if I care! Am I tempting fate here? Whatever, at least I made it to race day.

Questions:
  • Do you ever experience bruising or swelling after a big race?
  • What do you like to do when you're done? If I had traveled somewhere else to race I probably could have been forced to "do things," but I wouldn't have been happy about it. I like curling up in a ball for a while.
  • WHAT DO I DO NOW? Just kidding. I've already got little runner thoughts swirling around in my head.

My First Guest Post (No, Not Really, Don't Click Away!)

Workout: rest, until the end of time...

Okay, not really. But the Hansons have told me not to run for two weeks AFTER MY MARATHON (did I mention I ran a marathon?!) and since I have a hard time letting go, I'm still allowing them to boss me around. Also, "being smart" and all that.

Professor Amy was wondering how I spent the rest of the weekend post-race. I am nothing if not obedient (see above) so I shall oblige, but SPOILER ALERT: it's rather boring.

You see, I am not the kind of person who wants to go to brunch after a race. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to celebrate. I just want to crash for hours and hours and hours, emerging from my cocoon days later when I'm fully restored/a beautiful butterfly. Or at least a few hours later.

I stayed at the race finish just long enough to pick up a shirt (it turns out finishers actually get a really nice long-sleeve technical shirt! I can't believe I bought one at the expo. Oh well, more for me!) before jetting out of there. No food, no attempt to find people I knew; I was done.

My parents were kind enough to drive me home and on the way, treated me to a Dairy Queen vanilla ice cream, my first calories after the race. That thing was heaven. Never mind the fact that it could have destroyed my insides (it didn't!); it was SO. GOOD.

That was all I got in me before passing out (okay, writing a blog post BECAUSE I'M A GOOD BLOGGER and THEN passing out), which meant I woke up many hours later half-crazed and ravenous. This meant one thing: pizza time. I got a pal to pick me up and drive us to a ("the," more like) local pizza joint, where I consumed my weight in chicken/bacon/ranch pizza. It was incredible and just what the doctor ordered. I chased my pizza with a couple of brews, although my tolerance was obviously affected by the marathon so I had to shut it down after two to avoid an overly-sloppy situation. And no, I wasn't wearing my medal. I would have liked to but I couldn't bring myself to be so open about my deep dark running secret. Plus, I would have been paranoid about people whispering about that douchebag in the corner wearing a medal.

I opted to go home straight after because I'm boring and wanted to sleep, but I ended up waking in the middle of the night going out of my mind with hunger. A bowl of cereal held me over until my morning pancakes, but I was a bit pangry for a while there.

I was pretty lazy on Sunday, as I felt was my right, but I was dragged to a dog show that was actually kind of hilarious. Also, I have a new best friend:

Jowls for miles

Sorry, make that two new best friends:

All the saggy wiener red-eyed basset hound things were wearing bonnets. I didn't get it, but I was overjoyed nonetheless.

----

Amy also asked what my boss (who really did save my race) said to me at work today. Well, it was pretty much what you would expect ("Fancy seeing you out there!"), but it was fun to tell him I actually ran the marathon (he thought I was part of a four-person relay). I'm not one to insert running into every conversation so it actually only came up with one other coworker, but her constant "I can't believe you ran 26 miles" was fun.

----

Finally, because Amy's basically drafted this post for me, my recovery!

My body feels great, for the most part. I was pretty sore yesterday (Sunday), but by this morning it had all but subsided. My legs feel surprisingly fresh and there's no hip/knee/shin/etc. aching whatsoever. I'm spry as a spring chicken! Well, except for my right ankle. I think the shifty gravel from miles 7-13 aggravated it because the inside wrist bone equivalent (does that even make sense?) is slightly bruised and swollen. There's some minor pain when I walk, but it's nothing major (hence, minor) and mostly goes away when I walk on it a bit. I'll definitely keep an eye on it, but I'm not too worried. And NO, COACH HOLLY, I WILL NOT RUN AGAIN UNTIL I'M COMPLETELY PAIN-FREE. I know you were worried.

It's funny how now that I've survived the race I don't really care what happens to my body. Like, come on, break everything, running gods! See if I care! Am I tempting fate here? Whatever, at least I made it to race day.

Questions:
  • Do you ever experience bruising or swelling after a big race?
  • What do you like to do when you're done? If I had traveled somewhere else to race I probably could have been forced to "do things," but I wouldn't have been happy about it. I like curling up in a ball for a while.
  • WHAT DO I DO NOW? Just kidding. I've already got little runner thoughts swirling around in my head.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

When I started writing this recap, I included a promise to "keep it short." Well, as we all know, no blogger ever has been able to keep a marathon recap short and concise. I'm not even going to apologize for the length of my own because I DO WHAT I WANT! But don't freak out yet about how tiny your little scroll bar is - it's, like, 50% pictures, give or take 30%. Without further ado, Jeano's first (of many) posts about her dinky li'l marathon.

----

So, remember when I was too cool for school and said I wasn't nervous about my race? Well, I should have held off on that post until the night before the race because I was REALLY NERVOUS. Like, could hardly eat my dinner nervous. Like, nauseous nervous. Like, on-the-verge-of-panic nervous. I'm such a liar.

I managed to get a few hours of fitful sleep before waking up at 5:00 am to force pancakes down my throat and have a nervous breakdown. It wasn't until I got to the race start that I finally chilled the eff out, which goes to show that the anticipation is often much worse than the task itself. As soon as I arrived at Bartlett High School, I was cool, calm, and collected. I hung out like the cool kid I am in the bathroom line until just before 8:00 am, and then we were off!


Cool kid. So innocent, so naive, so blissfully ignorant of how hard marathons are.

Taking into account the course profile,

my race plan was as follows:

  1. Aim for a 9:44 pace for the first 15 miles, but recognize/be okay with the fact that you will likely be a few seconds slower than this. 
  2. Make up for lost time on the steep descent from miles 15-17.
  3. Run conservatively from miles 17-22.
  4. Gradually increase speed from miles 22-24 and go hard the last 2.2 miles.
Let's use those conveniently-segmented steps to delve into the meat of this race.

1. Aim for a 9:44 pace for the first 15 miles, but recognize/be okay with the fact that you will likely be a few seconds slower than this.

The first few miles of the race run along the Glenn Highway, which is surprisingly scenic for a six-lane thruway. The path was slightly monotonous, but the honking cars added some excitement to what was to be a very spectator-light course. After we exited the highway, we spent the next few miles on a flat road that ran along two golf courses, which fortunately we didn't have to look at because, duh, golf courses are boring (my dad will disown me if he ever hears me say that).

During these miles I tried to settle into a quicker but natural and easy pace, which unfortunately was slower than what I had hoped "quicker but natural and easy" would be. The course profile on the race's website is a bit misleading, so although I knew these miles were gradually uphill, I thought we would gain about 250 feet over the first 15 miles. It was actually more like 700. The early miles didn't feel uphill, though, so the fact that my natural pace was tending towards 10:00 was slightly demoralizing. Unwilling to lose too much time so early in the race, I made an effort to keep it a bit faster than my body wanted.

9:53, 9:44, 9:47, 9:52, 9:41, 9:54

At this point in the race, I was getting passed by a lot of people. I never felt like I was racing against anyone but myself, though, so this didn't bother me. In fact, I suspected that many of these people didn't realize what lay ahead so I was pretty sure I'd see them again.

Around mile 7, we hit the infamous gravel, which also coincided with the start of some pretty significant hills. Even I, who read countless race reports, wasn't fully prepared for this section of the race. I knew there was gravel, but I wasn't expecting it to be as hilly as it was. During this section there was a lot of complaining, more than a few snide remarks about my how my shoes were totally inappropriate for this terrain, and hordes of people starting to walk. These walkers were extremely frustrating because they were all walking on the sliver of road with the least amount of gravel, which meant I was doing a lot of weaving and expending more energy than I would have liked. I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same in their position, but it was pretty tiresome after a while.

9:54, 9:36, 9:43, 9:45, 9:58, 9:35, 9:57

Around mile 13, we crossed a very rickety bridge and entered the "trail" section of the course. I had to suppress more than one chuckle between miles 13-14, which was sort of steep and definitely not paved. I was able to run on this a few weeks ago, so I knew exactly what to expect. Other people most certainly did not. I only saw one other person run up the last hill to the high point of the course, and more than one runner was screaming bloody murder at the "nerve" of the race organizers for forcing this upon unsuspecting marathoners.

High point of the course! Great view, obviously.

Although I wasn't running as fast as I would have liked, I felt very strong and in control during these miles. I had done my research, I had run some hills, and I knew going in that it was likely to be a harder course than I suspected. Although the reality of running on that gravel was more difficult than I had realized, I feel like mentally I was much more prepared than most of the people around me. And honestly, as mean as it sounds to... take pleasure? from someone else's pain, seeing them struggle while I was still feeling good undoubtedly made this section easier for me.

10:01 (up to the top!), 9:32

2. Make up for lost time on the steep descent from miles 15-17.


At mile 15, I finally allowed myself to turn on my music. I was back in familiar territory, didn't really have to worry about moose/bears, and I was pretty sure things were about to get tough.

Well, things totally got tough. Downhill running is no joke, y'all. For me, this descent was much harder than any of the climbing that preceded it. The fact that people were still walking tells me I wasn't alone in thinking this. Sure, I was running faster, but I wasn't feeling particularly good. At mile 16 I had that inevitable thought of, "We have 10 more miles of this" which, combined with the fact that I hadn't run more than 16 miles in over a year, was a pretty serious downer.


9:30, 9:42

3. Run conservatively from miles 17-22.

I was still Mopey McGee when I reentered civilization at mile 17, but there were small groups of spectators along this section, which helped a bit. Most helpful was seeing this incredibly sweet woman for the third time of the race. She somehow managed to pop up in places I believe far too distant from each other/largely inaccessible via normal means, which is my way of saying she was my magic witch guardian. When I saw her, I turned my music down, said "I feel like this is the third time I've seen you!", and her response of "Yes it is! You look faster every time I see you!", although a lie, propelled me through the next mile or so...

9:45, 9:44

... until I hit mile 20.

At mile 20, I came to an area entirely too familiar to me. I had been wondering whether I would welcome or curse this familiarity, and unfortunately the reality was the latter. Suddenly, my beloved power jams seemed more like elevator muzak, my handheld water bottle weighed a million pounds, my sports beans tasted like, I don't know, let's say poo, I was hot, sweaty, and bothered, and, screw it, I was going to walk. Although walking certainly wasn't what I meant by "run conservatively."

BORING.

At mile 21, I told myself, I was going to give myself AN ENTIRE SONG to walk and do whatever I damn well pleased. I'd earned it! I was totally going to use those 3-4 minutes to regroup and then bust out a mind-blowing last 5 miles, by which I actually mean I was going to be doing a lot of walking. Once I start walking in a race, it's over.

As if on cue, I suddenly saw a horde of angels my boss and his cheer squad. My boss is the best person ever, and since I hadn't mentioned the race to any coworkers out of fear that I'd end up unable to run, it was doubly exciting. I was doused by someone with a hose, which was literally the best thing ever, refused a delicious-looking watermelon treat (I wasn't really in the mood to consume anything), and then surprised my boss with a "Hey, name-removed-for-privacy-reasons!" After yelling my name a few times in surprise, he blasted a tune on his tuba as I ran off.

I didn't ask any of my friends to watch me race because I know that to non-runners, race spectating (especially that early in the morning) is incredibly boring. I didn't realize what a huge boost seeing people you know can provide, though. I am not even remotely kidding when I say that seeing them saved my race. I blazed past the mile 21 sign without realizing it and was shocked when I was suddenly done with mile 22. I was back, baby!

10:11, 10:12, 9:57

4. Gradually increase speed from miles 22-24 and go hard the last 2.2 miles.

It turns out that boost didn't last forever. I had done a reasonably good job of following my race plan up to this point, but at mile 22 there was no turbo speed switch, as I had hoped there would be. To my mind, four miles was nothing, but to my legs it was everything. I tried, but I felt I had very little left to give.


Everywhere I looked, people were walking. Whereas earlier in the race this had motivated me, now it was seriously bringing me down. There was a lot of, "They're walking, so why can't I?!" I hadn't looked at my watch in a while but I was fairly certain a 4:15 was off the table. I started thinking that it wouldn't be so bad to end up with a 10:00 average, which would likely allow me to walk for a bit and take it easy.

But then shit got real and I gave myself a serious talking to. I was tired, yes, and I didn't think I had any turbo speed left in me. But I could most certainly keep running; I wasn't too tired for that. I just didn't feel like it. I knew that stopping to walk would be a huge disservice to myself and, really, to the Hanson Method, which had prepared me so excellently for this very moment. Lecture over, I kept chugging along.

9:40, 9:56, 10:26, 10:24

Around mile 25.8, I knew I was close. I only had one more song, and then it would be over. I skipped whatever song was playing, and Kanye's Power came on. Perfect. I was going to sprint my little heart out up that last hill, which was a walker wasteland, and not stop sprinting until I crossed that finish line.

This plan worked perfectly, minus the very last tenth of a mile when I was seriously struggling not to puke everywhere.


Jamming to Kanye or suppressing vomit - take your pick!

Repeat.

Success.

And now for picture overload.

"You ran HOW many miles?"

"My chauffeur needs to hurry it up already."

My medal is larger than your medal because it's the LARGEST MEDAL EVER.

Official (gun) time: 4:20:15
Official Jeano (net) time: 4:19:40

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting to finish faster. Rationally, I knew that first-time marathoners often underestimate how long it will take them to finish, and I knew that it was entirely possible I'd finish a good 10-15 minutes slower than planned. But despite acknowledging that I might need to reevaluate my goals, I really did think I had 4:15 in the bag.

That's not to say I'm disappointed with my time. Far from it. Given the somewhat unexpected difficulty of the course, I'm really happy with how it turned out. But after zeroing in on 9:44 pace for the past four months, finishing with a 9:50 (by my watch) was a slight blow to my ego. Fortunately, it could have been so much worse. Given my tendency to walk during races, finishing my very first marathon without doing so is definitely something to be proud of.

Plus, I was kind of blown away by my stats:


I mean, I didn't break any world records or anything, but I did all right. I consider myself a middle-to-back-of-the-pack runner, so finishing in the top fifth for women and the top fourth for my age group is kind of remarkable. Sorry, that sounds incredibly arrogant but it's true! Don't think less of me for being happy with myself.

Thank you ALL for your encouragement throughout my training. I've mentioned before that I don't really talk about running in my normal life because I know so few runners, so blogging about this has really done me a lot of good. I was definitely thinking about you guys during the race.

More on all-things-marathon later in the week!

"It's Mostly Pictures, I Swear!" Mayor's Marathon Recap

When I started writing this recap, I included a promise to "keep it short." Well, as we all know, no blogger ever has been able to keep a marathon recap short and concise. I'm not even going to apologize for the length of my own because I DO WHAT I WANT! But don't freak out yet about how tiny your little scroll bar is - it's, like, 50% pictures, give or take 30%. Without further ado, Jeano's first (of many) posts about her dinky li'l marathon.

----

So, remember when I was too cool for school and said I wasn't nervous about my race? Well, I should have held off on that post until the night before the race because I was REALLY NERVOUS. Like, could hardly eat my dinner nervous. Like, nauseous nervous. Like, on-the-verge-of-panic nervous. I'm such a liar.

I managed to get a few hours of fitful sleep before waking up at 5:00 am to force pancakes down my throat and have a nervous breakdown. It wasn't until I got to the race start that I finally chilled the eff out, which goes to show that the anticipation is often much worse than the task itself. As soon as I arrived at Bartlett High School, I was cool, calm, and collected. I hung out like the cool kid I am in the bathroom line until just before 8:00 am, and then we were off!


Cool kid. So innocent, so naive, so blissfully ignorant of how hard marathons are.

Taking into account the course profile,

my race plan was as follows:

  1. Aim for a 9:44 pace for the first 15 miles, but recognize/be okay with the fact that you will likely be a few seconds slower than this. 
  2. Make up for lost time on the steep descent from miles 15-17.
  3. Run conservatively from miles 17-22.
  4. Gradually increase speed from miles 22-24 and go hard the last 2.2 miles.
Let's use those conveniently-segmented steps to delve into the meat of this race.

1. Aim for a 9:44 pace for the first 15 miles, but recognize/be okay with the fact that you will likely be a few seconds slower than this.

The first few miles of the race run along the Glenn Highway, which is surprisingly scenic for a six-lane thruway. The path was slightly monotonous, but the honking cars added some excitement to what was to be a very spectator-light course. After we exited the highway, we spent the next few miles on a flat road that ran along two golf courses, which fortunately we didn't have to look at because, duh, golf courses are boring (my dad will disown me if he ever hears me say that).

During these miles I tried to settle into a quicker but natural and easy pace, which unfortunately was slower than what I had hoped "quicker but natural and easy" would be. The course profile on the race's website is a bit misleading, so although I knew these miles were gradually uphill, I thought we would gain about 250 feet over the first 15 miles. It was actually more like 700. The early miles didn't feel uphill, though, so the fact that my natural pace was tending towards 10:00 was slightly demoralizing. Unwilling to lose too much time so early in the race, I made an effort to keep it a bit faster than my body wanted.

9:53, 9:44, 9:47, 9:52, 9:41, 9:54

At this point in the race, I was getting passed by a lot of people. I never felt like I was racing against anyone but myself, though, so this didn't bother me. In fact, I suspected that many of these people didn't realize what lay ahead so I was pretty sure I'd see them again.

Around mile 7, we hit the infamous gravel, which also coincided with the start of some pretty significant hills. Even I, who read countless race reports, wasn't fully prepared for this section of the race. I knew there was gravel, but I wasn't expecting it to be as hilly as it was. During this section there was a lot of complaining, more than a few snide remarks about my how my shoes were totally inappropriate for this terrain, and hordes of people starting to walk. These walkers were extremely frustrating because they were all walking on the sliver of road with the least amount of gravel, which meant I was doing a lot of weaving and expending more energy than I would have liked. I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same in their position, but it was pretty tiresome after a while.

9:54, 9:36, 9:43, 9:45, 9:58, 9:35, 9:57

Around mile 13, we crossed a very rickety bridge and entered the "trail" section of the course. I had to suppress more than one chuckle between miles 13-14, which was sort of steep and definitely not paved. I was able to run on this a few weeks ago, so I knew exactly what to expect. Other people most certainly did not. I only saw one other person run up the last hill to the high point of the course, and more than one runner was screaming bloody murder at the "nerve" of the race organizers for forcing this upon unsuspecting marathoners.

High point of the course! Great view, obviously.

Although I wasn't running as fast as I would have liked, I felt very strong and in control during these miles. I had done my research, I had run some hills, and I knew going in that it was likely to be a harder course than I suspected. Although the reality of running on that gravel was more difficult than I had realized, I feel like mentally I was much more prepared than most of the people around me. And honestly, as mean as it sounds to... take pleasure? from someone else's pain, seeing them struggle while I was still feeling good undoubtedly made this section easier for me.

10:01 (up to the top!), 9:32

2. Make up for lost time on the steep descent from miles 15-17.


At mile 15, I finally allowed myself to turn on my music. I was back in familiar territory, didn't really have to worry about moose/bears, and I was pretty sure things were about to get tough.

Well, things totally got tough. Downhill running is no joke, y'all. For me, this descent was much harder than any of the climbing that preceded it. The fact that people were still walking tells me I wasn't alone in thinking this. Sure, I was running faster, but I wasn't feeling particularly good. At mile 16 I had that inevitable thought of, "We have 10 more miles of this" which, combined with the fact that I hadn't run more than 16 miles in over a year, was a pretty serious downer.


9:30, 9:42

3. Run conservatively from miles 17-22.

I was still Mopey McGee when I reentered civilization at mile 17, but there were small groups of spectators along this section, which helped a bit. Most helpful was seeing this incredibly sweet woman for the third time of the race. She somehow managed to pop up in places I believe far too distant from each other/largely inaccessible via normal means, which is my way of saying she was my magic witch guardian. When I saw her, I turned my music down, said "I feel like this is the third time I've seen you!", and her response of "Yes it is! You look faster every time I see you!", although a lie, propelled me through the next mile or so...

9:45, 9:44

... until I hit mile 20.

At mile 20, I came to an area entirely too familiar to me. I had been wondering whether I would welcome or curse this familiarity, and unfortunately the reality was the latter. Suddenly, my beloved power jams seemed more like elevator muzak, my handheld water bottle weighed a million pounds, my sports beans tasted like, I don't know, let's say poo, I was hot, sweaty, and bothered, and, screw it, I was going to walk. Although walking certainly wasn't what I meant by "run conservatively."

BORING.

At mile 21, I told myself, I was going to give myself AN ENTIRE SONG to walk and do whatever I damn well pleased. I'd earned it! I was totally going to use those 3-4 minutes to regroup and then bust out a mind-blowing last 5 miles, by which I actually mean I was going to be doing a lot of walking. Once I start walking in a race, it's over.

As if on cue, I suddenly saw a horde of angels my boss and his cheer squad. My boss is the best person ever, and since I hadn't mentioned the race to any coworkers out of fear that I'd end up unable to run, it was doubly exciting. I was doused by someone with a hose, which was literally the best thing ever, refused a delicious-looking watermelon treat (I wasn't really in the mood to consume anything), and then surprised my boss with a "Hey, name-removed-for-privacy-reasons!" After yelling my name a few times in surprise, he blasted a tune on his tuba as I ran off.

I didn't ask any of my friends to watch me race because I know that to non-runners, race spectating (especially that early in the morning) is incredibly boring. I didn't realize what a huge boost seeing people you know can provide, though. I am not even remotely kidding when I say that seeing them saved my race. I blazed past the mile 21 sign without realizing it and was shocked when I was suddenly done with mile 22. I was back, baby!

10:11, 10:12, 9:57

4. Gradually increase speed from miles 22-24 and go hard the last 2.2 miles.

It turns out that boost didn't last forever. I had done a reasonably good job of following my race plan up to this point, but at mile 22 there was no turbo speed switch, as I had hoped there would be. To my mind, four miles was nothing, but to my legs it was everything. I tried, but I felt I had very little left to give.


Everywhere I looked, people were walking. Whereas earlier in the race this had motivated me, now it was seriously bringing me down. There was a lot of, "They're walking, so why can't I?!" I hadn't looked at my watch in a while but I was fairly certain a 4:15 was off the table. I started thinking that it wouldn't be so bad to end up with a 10:00 average, which would likely allow me to walk for a bit and take it easy.

But then shit got real and I gave myself a serious talking to. I was tired, yes, and I didn't think I had any turbo speed left in me. But I could most certainly keep running; I wasn't too tired for that. I just didn't feel like it. I knew that stopping to walk would be a huge disservice to myself and, really, to the Hanson Method, which had prepared me so excellently for this very moment. Lecture over, I kept chugging along.

9:40, 9:56, 10:26, 10:24

Around mile 25.8, I knew I was close. I only had one more song, and then it would be over. I skipped whatever song was playing, and Kanye's Power came on. Perfect. I was going to sprint my little heart out up that last hill, which was a walker wasteland, and not stop sprinting until I crossed that finish line.

This plan worked perfectly, minus the very last tenth of a mile when I was seriously struggling not to puke everywhere.


Jamming to Kanye or suppressing vomit - take your pick!

Repeat.

Success.

And now for picture overload.

"You ran HOW many miles?"

"My chauffeur needs to hurry it up already."

My medal is larger than your medal because it's the LARGEST MEDAL EVER.

Official (gun) time: 4:20:15
Official Jeano (net) time: 4:19:40

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting to finish faster. Rationally, I knew that first-time marathoners often underestimate how long it will take them to finish, and I knew that it was entirely possible I'd finish a good 10-15 minutes slower than planned. But despite acknowledging that I might need to reevaluate my goals, I really did think I had 4:15 in the bag.

That's not to say I'm disappointed with my time. Far from it. Given the somewhat unexpected difficulty of the course, I'm really happy with how it turned out. But after zeroing in on 9:44 pace for the past four months, finishing with a 9:50 (by my watch) was a slight blow to my ego. Fortunately, it could have been so much worse. Given my tendency to walk during races, finishing my very first marathon without doing so is definitely something to be proud of.

Plus, I was kind of blown away by my stats:


I mean, I didn't break any world records or anything, but I did all right. I consider myself a middle-to-back-of-the-pack runner, so finishing in the top fifth for women and the top fourth for my age group is kind of remarkable. Sorry, that sounds incredibly arrogant but it's true! Don't think less of me for being happy with myself.

Thank you ALL for your encouragement throughout my training. I've mentioned before that I don't really talk about running in my normal life because I know so few runners, so blogging about this has really done me a lot of good. I was definitely thinking about you guys during the race.

More on all-things-marathon later in the week!