Birthday Bash

September is Trea's birthday month, and this year I celebrated by making him run a 5K with no training. He loved it. {That was sarcasm.}

Bentonville had a Birthday Bash 5K the week of his birthday, and it seemed like the perfect race -- celebrating the one-year birthday/anniversary of Wishing Springs Trail, which is where we used to run before we moved.

Who wouldn't want a birthday cake race shirt the week of their birthday -- followed by birthday cake flavored snow cones at the finish line?

We got up painfully early for a Saturday, discussed staying in bed, whined about how we weren't prepared, almost flaked out, and then pinned on our race bibs and faced the music. At this point, I hadn't run more than 2 miles since the Bentonville Half 5K, and Trea hadn't run a step in about a month.

The race was point-to-point and started in our old stomping grounds, just a few miles from our old house. It was nice to go back to where I've spent most of my time running and where we first started.

The first mile went pretty well; we were keeping a slow, steady pace with a goal only to finish. Then the wheels fell off, just as we expected. I felt pretty good and could have probably jogged slowly the whole way, but poor Trea hadn't run in forever, was still barely awake and had forgotten to take his allergy meds in our haste to leave the house. He was miserable, so we took a few walk breaks along the way. The last mile was the worst, as with most races, but he stayed in good spirits the whole time and we finally, finally made it to the finish line. It was nowhere near our best time, but it wasn't my slowest either.

We were greeted at the finish by a snow cone truck passing out free birthday cake flavored snow cones, and I must say, I don't know why all races don't do this. After trudging along the trail with not much shade, we were so grateful for an icy treat.

It was humbling how beaten up we felt by only 3.1 miles, and I think we were the first ones on the shuttle to head back to the starting line and our car. {Thank goodness we were first. I hope they burned those seats after hauling all those sweaty runners around. GROSS.}

Afterward, we could barely move for the rest of the day and groaned with every step. We are embarrassingly out of shape but we're getting better! I've talked Trea into going to the gym with me a few times, and I'm back to running three times a week now, slowly building up my mileage.

I have another 5K on the calendar for the end of October (my first costume run!), and my only goal is to finish each race better than the last. I'm getting there.

My 5K time starts with a TWO! Finally!

This weekend, at the Bentonville Running Festival 5K, I set a new PR and finally, FINALLY, ran 3.1 in under 30 minutes. It wasn't the half marathon I was hoping for, but it'll work.

I hadn't planned on trying to PR this race, but I ran with my fav gal, Laura, who paced me to an unofficial 29:37 finish! 

Reaching a time that I have been trying for, for about three years now, was a pretty darn good birthday gift. 

Birthday cupcakes at Savoy Tea!

My first DNS

For those of you that don't speak runnerd, that's "did not start."

Last Saturday, Trea and I were supposed to run as a couple in the Valentine's 8K race. We had 5 miles on our training plan to run that day, so I thought this little race would be the perfect training run. It was right by our house and didn't start until 9 a.m., AND we got awesome long sleeve tech pullovers.

I've never missed a race due to anything other than injury before, but a few days before the race, I got an email saying the location and start time had changed. It was no longer close to our house, and the new start time was 7 a.m. SEVEN! On a Saturday!

I picked up our packets the day before and was prepared to get up at stupid-thirty to run with my Valentine. But after a long, stressful week at work, when the alarm went off that morning, I just didn't have it in me. I slept in. DNS. When I don't get enough sleep, I transform into a demon. And when I get really, really tired, I get a cold. I would totally be the first to die in the Hunger Games because I need my beauty rest to be able to function.

When I woke up around 9:00, I saw tons of tweets about how much fun the race had been, and I felt like a loser for skipping it. I had to email the race director to find out where to return our time chips, and was so ashamed to hit send on that message.

Trea and I both ran an 8K that day -- by ourselves and on our own schedule. That's the beauty of being childless. I can wake up when I want and run when I want. It was my best 5 miles since I returned from injury. But the worst part about missing this race -- THE SHIRT ACTUALLY FITS! Of all the races I've ever run, all the shirts are unisex sized and swallow my petite frame. Before this, I only had one race shirt I could wear because I got a youth large. Even my marathon shirt -- the one I sweated for 6 months to get and suffered a broken bone for -- looks like I'm wearing Trea's clothes.

But this Valentine's pullover is amazing. I would show you a picture, but it's in the hamper because I want to run in it every day. This race actually had women's and men's sizes! So my shirt is simply perfect. But I didn't run the race. I DID run the distance that day...just not with the group. Does that count?

Have you ever missed a race because getting good rest was more important? Have you ever worn a shirt for a race you didn't run?

I'm thankful for you

When my alarm went off yesterday for the Springdale Turkey Trot, my first post-injury 5K, I didn't want to go. Recovering from a stomach bug, busy with family and work, and pretty much dreading what seemed like the worst race course in the world -- out and backs on hills in the middle of cow pastures -- I was ready to hit snooze and forget the whole thing.

But then I thought of Jodi, a far-away cousin who says this little blog inspired her to start Couch to 5k. Like me, she was a self-proclaimed couch potato and running hater, and she's running her first race next weekend. And I thought of Chuck, a local Internet stranger turned friend who has sent me some of the nicest emails I've ever received in my life, telling me how my story gave him the confidence to run a half marathon. And I thought of Craig, my oldest friend, who called me a few weeks ago and said, "I just ran a trail race and it's all your fault. You make running sound all romantic, but this is hard!" And after blame was appropriately assigned, he started talking about his next race and dropping words like "half marathon."

I've said it before, runners are a special kind of people. We wave at each other on the road or give an understanding nod because we know each other's pain -- just like we know each other's joy when we do what we thought was impossible. We compete with each other, but never stop encouraging each other. I can't believe anyone would be inspired by my meager accomplishments and the kind words I've received from fellow runners, especially this year as I've struggled with injury, have inspired me more than you all could know.

So I got up and trotted myself a 5K, dragging along my favorite running buddy, and we crushed it. Trea and I finished in 31:42, only about 1:20 slower than my 5k PR. This is slow to a lot of folks, but I was just glad to finish. It was our longest run all year!

I had dreaded what I thought was an awful course, but the out and backs turned out to be really helpful in pushing through the pain. Even though we were on farm roads with nothing to see but cows, I was continually greeted by runners ahead of me or behind me, making their way to the turnaround. Even though I didn't know anyone, I was inspired to keep going. And at the second turnaround, I saw a tall stranger running toward me yelling, "Go Anna!" accompanied by a big smile and a high five. (My sincerest apologies to the girl who got smacked in the middle of that high five.) It was blog reader Chuck! We had only corresponded via email through the blog, and I knew he would be at the race, but I didn't expect to spot him in the crowd. He finished ahead of me and was at the finish line to cheer us on as we huffed and puffed to the end.

After we were finally formally introduced, he thanked me for writing about my story, and I felt so silly because I should thank HIM. Without accountability and encouraging words from folks like him, I might have given up a long time ago. So thank you, Chuck, Jodi, Craig and all my runner friends who haven't given up on me this year.

I'm humbled to know I've helped spread the running bug, but I can relate. I never thought I could run farther than a 5k until I read That Pink Girl, the Redhead and Chic Runner. Runnerds are an odd bunch, and I'm so thankful to be counted as one of them.

My first 26.2

I ran my first marathon Saturday - the St. Jude Memphis Marathon. I learned that all the training, all the planning, all the agonizing over every little detail still doesn't guarantee that all will go right. 26.2 is a beast. I learned the only thing that's fully in my control is how hard I try.

I was incredibly nervous in the days leading up to the race. Nervous, but excited and pretty confident that I could finish. Friday night I was so proud when I picked up my number at the expo. 16 weeks of training, long runs in sweltering heat, running in the dark after a long day of work, raising money for Team Carson, and the day was finally here!

I barely slept a wink Friday night, which is typical for me right before a race. Saturday morning, Trea and I walked to the finish line to check our bags and then met up with our training friends at the start. Trea and I always run long miles together, and since this was our first marathon attempt, we agreed to stick together the whole time, even though he's faster. 

We started out with the 4:55 pace group, but I was pretty sure we would fall back from them quickly, which we did. (I swear they were going too fast.) My Garmin kept losing satellite signal, so I wasn't able to monitor my pace at all. I just relied on Trea since his Nike watch was working. The first few miles were exciting because there were several spectators, and we were running through downtown Memphis. We ran by the pyramid and then through the St. Jude campus. When I looked at my splits later, I saw that miles 4 and 5 were about a minute faster than what I should've been running. That was because of all the sweet St. Jude supporters and signs that said things like, "A blister never needed chemo!" We couldn't help but run faster!

As we passed by Rhodes College, I noticed the pace felt too quick for me, so we slowed down. I had some goals in mind, but mainly I just wanted to make sure I could finish. I was feeling really good, and I just knew I would come in somewhere between 5:00 and 5:15, which I would have been thrilled with. But around mile 10, trouble set in. And by trouble, I mean uncontrollable waves of nausea. FAN. TASTIC. 

Somewhere around this point, I decided that I needed to eat something because I thought that would make me feel better, so we slowed to a walk while I tried to choke down half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We had already made two bathroom stops since we failed to synchronize our bladders, and while we were walking, the 5:10 pace group passed us. I was feeling so sick, and the sight of that pace sign bobbing by did not lift my spirits. 

I had been walking quickly through water stops since almost the beginning, and my walk breaks were getting longer and longer. I was having trouble just making it from station to station because I felt so awful. At around mile 12.5, the halfers split off toward the finish, and I almost started to cry because I wanted to follow them. But I still had over halfway to go. The course thinned considerably, there weren't as many spectators as there had been earlier in the day, and my nausea was getting worse and worse. I kept taking walk breaks just to keep from getting sick. 

At mile 17, things got ugly. I ralphed on somebody's lawn...twice. I've never gotten sick on a run before. I've trained up to 20 miles and not had any issues. I was so upset and disappointed. I was upset because I couldn't run, embarrassed to be in such a condition on the side of the road, and even more upset that Trea was watching it happen. After three years of marriage, we still try to be polite and keep private things private, but I suppose the honeymoon's over. And when he said I had to keep running because we still had 9 miles to go, I wanted to cry again. But I didn't. I ran. 

I started getting thirsty and feeling weaker almost immediately, so at mile 18 I diluted some Powerade with water and drank it. At mile 19, I turned into the exorcist and vowed to never drink Powerade or lemon-lime anything ever again. I kept running and walking, and my walks were getting crazy long. I would wait until I could see a water station and run to it, then walk again when I got there. It was terrible. Every time I tried to run, my stomach would cramp so bad that I couldn't stand up straight, so I would have to walk again. I hadn't had any calories or electrolytes since mile 12, so at mile 23, I gave up and decided to walk the rest of the way. I had thought even with all the pit stops and walking that we could still make it around 5:30, but there was no way to do that if I stopped running. Mentally, I had already checked out. My music had been off for a long time, my heart wasn't in it, and I was just plain sad. 16 weeks of working my butt off...for this. 

When we got about half a mile from the finish, we started running again. No way was I going to walk across the finish line, even if I threw up on the medal volunteer. I felt like we had been out on that course for two days.

I finished in 5:56 -- almost an hour longer than what I had hoped for. My aunt, cousin and Carson were the only members of Team Carson that had stayed at the finish line for us, and I was so happy to see them. The rest of the group had run races earlier in the day and spent a long time waiting before giving up. My friends had finished way before me and were cold and ready to head back to their hotel -- as were we -- so we all briefly said our congratulations, snapped some photos and went on our way. 

My cousins, Ginger and Carson

I was so disgusted with the way my day had gone that I didn't even think to get a heat blanket or have someone take our picture at the finish line. I was really looking forward to finally getting one of those space blankets and feeling like a real runner. But I didn't feel like a runner that day. 

When we got back to our hotel, Trea surprised me with this necklace. He worked really hard to find all the charms and had it engraved with 26.2 on one side and Memphis 2011 on the other. I never would've dragged myself to the finish line if Trea hadn't been with me. He's the best running partner and an amazing best friend.

I'm still unhappy with the way things went, and I haven't at all made peace with it. I've hated having to tell the story to everyone I see this week who wants to know all about it, but I'm trying to just focus on the fact that I finished. I didn't finish well, but I finished, and I still got a medal, and I'm still a marathoner. 

I know I tried my best. I ran as much as I could run. I trained as much as I could train. I studied nutrition and hydration tips, and I made sure to stick with what worked for me in training. So I just have to be ok with knowing I did my best, even though on this day, that wasn't enough. 

I'll just have to try harder next time. ;)

All my bags are packed

I'm ready to go...but I'm not leaving on a jet plane. 

Trea and I are hitting the road for Memphis. It's marathon weekend! Tomorrow, I will run my first (possibly my last) 26.2 and I am 100% terrified. The marathon is nothing to sneeze at. It's far. It's hard. If it were easy, more people would do it.

I told Bella how far a marathon is. This is her "Say what?" face.

Looking back on my training, I think I'm as prepared as I can be. No, I didn't follow my plan. Cross training intentions died somewhere in the first few weeks, and speed work followed not long after. I wasn't in good enough shape to get through all the workouts without causing problems with other parts of my life and my health. So I've done what I can do. Will that be enough tomorrow? We'll see. 

As for goals, my first goal is to finish. As long as I finish, I'll be fine. My even-better-than-finishing goal would be to come in at 5:10 or under. There's a 5:10 pace team I'm thinking of joining, and while it would be awesome to finish faster than that, I know deep down that that's the group for me. 

My over-the-moon goal would be to finish in under 5 hours. But let's get real here. When I check my half marathon time and 10 miler times on a race calculator, the result always projects that I'll finish around 5:12 or so. That's my ability level. And if crossing the line in 10 or 15 minutes more means that I don't collapse at mile 22, then who cares? I ran 20 miles in about 3:55, so I just don't think I have excellent chances of finishing in less than 5:00. But that's ok! Because I'll still get a medal! And I will still be a marathoner! 

I will know I've done my best. That's all I can do.

Mother Road Half Marathon Recap

I've been putting off writing this because I felt like roadkill on the Mother Road last weekend. I ran this half as a training run with Trea, Jennifer and Lori, and it was definitely my worst race experience to date. Also, it was not what any of us expected it to be.

We arrived in Joplin early Saturday evening and went straight to packet pick up at City Hall. The "expo" consisted of about four tables in a small room - two advertising other races, a chiropractor I think, and a group of ladies who asked us to donate $1 toward the production of a Route 66 quilt. Um, no thank you. Luckily, the local running store, The Run Around {which happens to be awesome}, was just across the street and having a sale, so we scored some good deals.

I thought the "expo" was odd, but that was nothing compared to our goodie bags. Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for...the horse head necklace. {Which I graciously left behind for the hotel maid. You're welcome.}

Before we settled in for the night, we drove the race course so we'd know what to expect Sunday. It started in Baxter Springs, Kansas and followed Route 66 back to Joplin, Missouri. This race was advertised as following the "mother road" through two states {three states for the full marathon}. So in every email from race organizers and all over their website, I've read that I would be running down a highway. But, because I'm stupid, it didn't really sink in until I was driving the course that I would be RUNNING DOWN A HIGHWAY. A big, four-lane divided highway in KANSAS, kind of like an interstate -- with absolutely nothing to look at -- for 13.1 miles. Awesome. I thought even though Kansas would be boring, it would at least be flat. Wrong. Giant hills. And I mean giant. They weren't terribly steep, but they were long. The kind where you look toward the horizon and all you see is more hill and it ends in the sky.

If you'll recall, I got sick on my runniversary, stayed sick the whole week leading up to the race and was still under the weather on race weekend. {Side note: There will be no weekly training recap post for week 8. I trudged through a grand total of about 8 miles for the week before this race and spent the rest of the time clutching a box of Kleenex.} I was very worried about how I would do and was concerned about even being able to finish. I was also nervous about getting ready and dealing with breakfast in a hotel and freaked out about it in this post, but everything went fine leading up to our arrival at the starting line.

There were about 260 runners in the half, and we all lined up in the middle of nowhere on a narrow country road - the historic part of Route 66. I planned to keep an easy pace the whole time and just focus on finishing -- no PRs and no race paces. But just two weeks before, I had reached 13.1 in about two and a half hours -- 4 minutes faster than my time at the Bentonville Half Marathon -- and I wasn't really trying. So even though this wasn't a real race for me, in the back of my mind, I hoped I could PR by a minute or two because I had already done it in training. Silly me. I started out way too fast, and I knew my pace was going to come back to bite me, but I felt good and just kept going. I kept checking my watch, and my pace was below my 10K pace, which is pretty stupid since I still wasn't feeling well and wouldn't have been able to maintain that pace for 13 miles even if I had been at 100%.

The first few miles stayed on a country road, and it was actually really nice. I had been dreading this awful course after we drove it, but it was cool outside, the sun was shining, I could hear cows mooing as we passed by, and I was having fun. Since I had decided not to care about my finish time {even though I totally cared about my finish time} I slowed down to take some pictures.

Somewhere along the way, maybe around mile 3 or so, a girl ran right up beside me and started staring at me. I just kept running, thinking maybe she was looking at something in the distance on the other side of me. She kept running with me and kept staring, and finally she said, "Are you Anna?" I said yes, and then she introduced herself -- it was Amy of Amy Does Life, one of my friends on Twitter and Daily Mile who I had never met in real life! She recognized me and Trea and asked if I was feeling better after being sick all week. It was so funny to me to just start talking with someone I've never actually met, but who knows a thing or two about me. I guess I will always be amazed by the internets. Amy ran with us for a while until my pace started suffering on a huge hill. {Amy, it was great to meet you, and congrats on your PR and your first half marathon!!} 

There was a massive hill just before the 6 mile marker, and I walked when I got to the top. This was the beginning of the end. I started walking at water stops. Then I would walk through water stops and just keep walking. I could not find the energy to make my feet run again. Trea kept urging me on with pep talks like, "There are only 12 people behind us. We're gonna finish dead last." Thanks a lot. These pep talks don't help AT ALL.

At mile 8, I was seriously struggling. Trea had issues of his own. He hurt his ankle a couple of weeks ago and was running in a brace, and he started having a lot of pain. On top of that, he had forgotten to wear band-aids and had to take his shirt off so he wouldn't end up with bloody nipples. It was miserable. By this time, it was also hot. And we had seen about 5 spectators along with a whole lot of nothing.

By mile 10, I stopped caring. I just wanted to be done. I was running with my phone in my SpiBelt, and I was seriously trying to put together a plan to quit and have someone come pick me up. Race exhaustion makes you really dumb. All the miles started running together, and I don't remember how much I walked or ran at this point. I know I walked a lot, and the more I walked, the more discouraged I became. I was eating ShotBloks along the way, but I was feeling nauseated and couldn't stand to eat or drink as much as I should have. I ended up being very dehydrated. Trea was ready to hustle to the finish just to get it over with and also because his ankle hurt and he didn't want to prolong the pain, but he stayed with me and walked when I walked.

I was almost in tears when we got to the finish line because I was so embarrassed by how much I had walked and how poorly I had done. But my time was only about 4 minutes slower than my PR in Bentonville, and after being sick and feeling so awful, I was just happy I hadn't barfed on my shoes before I reached the end. I felt like I had been running all day, but we FINALLY made it.

This was not a fun race, but I wasn't prepared to race either. I was still weak from being sick, and since I hadn't been feeling well, I did not hydrate well enough at all in the days leading up to the race, which we all know is super important. So running directly into the sun, into a 20 mph wind, climbing a total of about 400 feet in 13.1 miles with a tummy full of antibiotics was kind of a perfect storm for disaster. The Mother Road was...a mother...but I lived to tell the tale!

Race travel and freaking out

This weekend is the Mother Road Half Marathon in Joplin, and it will be my first out-of-town race. I'm getting nervous about remembering everything I need to pack and getting ready/having my pre-run breakfast in a hotel instead of at home. I'm also nervous because I'm STILL sick, and I might not even be able to run at all. I went back to the doctor today for a stronger antibiotic, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I will wake up feeling like a million bucks Sunday morning for the race. We'll see.

This race is point-to-point instead of a loop, so we'll have to take a shuttle to the starting line in Baxter Springs, Kansas and then run to the finish line in Joplin, Missouri. So of course I'm stressed out about shuttle schedules. And what is this I keep hearing about gear trucks? Should I pack a bag that will be waiting for me at the finish line with dry clothes and stuff? What do you put in your bag? What kind of bag do you take? A backpack? Small duffel? Gallon-sized Ziploc? I am totally serious about these questions.

Trea and I have our long run routines down pat, and I'm more than concerned about changing things up this weekend. The morning of our long runs, Trea always makes a trip to McDonald's for egg McMuffins, or I make homemade ones for us, and then we don't leave the house for another 45 minutes or so to let everything settle. We normally eat around 5:45 and are running by 6:45 or 7:00. But at this race, the last shuttle arrives at the starting line at 7:00, but the race doesn't start until 8:00! So we'll still need to get up early and eat early, but I'm worried my McMuffin will be "wearing off" by the time we're ready to start. Maybe I need to get two... {Trea is allergic to both peanut butter and bananas -- runners' favorite fuel -- so our pre-run options are limited. PowerBars and ClifBars are out for him too.} We're running with friends, so ideally, we'll be able to drive one car to the start and leave it and take another car to retrieve it later. This would relieve tons of stress...as long as the race folks will let us do that.

Even though it stinks to be sick on ANOTHER race weekend, I'm still looking forward to this experience because I think it will be a good dress rehearsal for the St. Jude Memphis Marathon in December. Much better to figure out our out-of-town/hotel routine now than in downtown Memphis at our first full marathon! I just found out only 262 runners are registered for the Mother Road Half, so this is going to be a tiny race. This is terrifying because my chances for finishing dead last just increased dramatically, but having a small turnout might be easier on us as we learn how to handle racing far from home.

I'm treating this weekend like a training run, so I'm not shooting for a certain time or anything. Since I've been sick for a week now, I'll just be happy if I'm able to run at all. I actually have 15 miles on my training schedule this weekend, so if I'm feeling better, I'm planning to run a mile or so before the race to warm up, and then whatever is left at the end as a slow shake-out run.

So, expert out-of-town racers...how do YOU get ready to race when you're away from home? 

How do you handle racing during training, when the race is shorter than your training distance?