Fiesta Bowl 1/2 Marathon Recap!! YAAAY!!!

I GOT A PR! I GOT A PR!

Seriously guys, I ran the race of my life on Sunday!

Okay, first, and I’m being completely real here, I did NOT think what happened would happen.

Leading up to my last race of the year, I’d been feeling tired, exhausted, and fatigued. Yes, all three mean the same thing.

I’d eaten like crap the week leading up to the race because I just wasn’t feeling actually trying. My running mojo was lost and I was….tired. I can’t really think of a better way of explaining it.

My husband and I caught Mockingjay Part I at the theatre on Friday and we binged on popcorn and nachos. Not a care in the word about having a race that Sunday.

Saturday morning we went on a short 2 and a something miler to get our legs ready but then we binged on finger foods at two holiday parties that evening.

We didn’t even go to packet pick-up and figured we’d just get it on race day; we were that unmotivated.

Sunday morning our alarms woke us up (aka: kids) and we got ready to go. My mom was a champ ready to baby sit while we went on with the race.

We got there early since we knew we had to get our bibs and I’d come prepared with a jacket and gloves–it was cold!! Like always, I have to add the “for Arizona” as I know that it’s a lot more colder in other parts.

After picking up our bibs, we hung out at my run club’s tent; there were 65 members running the race that day! Many of my friends were gunning for PRs. Fiesta Bowl has the reputation for being PR friendly. Yet, even with that knowledge, I wasn’t going into it with a PR mentality and simply hoped to sub 2–an accomplishment if I achieved it.

My husband was in the same mindset in that if he was near his PR (1:48) he’d be happy–he hadn’t trained at all for the race having been out of the country for a month.

When it came time to line up, we stood near our friends. There were no corrals so you could put yourself wherever. I was near the front but not close–actually with the crowd gunning for 1:50 and under (ha!).

I’d decided to keep my gloves on but ditched the jacket. All I had on me was a salt tablet–I’d decided to utilize the water and fuel stations, a first for me.

There was a countdown but no horn! When the announcer reached 1, nothing sounded! People continued on as, well, he’d reached 1 lol!

My husband kissed me good luck and I never saw him again til the end. I saw many of my fellow run clubbers pass me as I’d started with the speedy crowd.

I was on my own but I was fine.

The first mile chimed away 8:57 and I was pleased. I hadn’t started off fast (which I’d stupidly done in the previous half I’d run) and I also wanted to make sure I hung out as close to the 9s as I could.

I felt myself settle in and mile 2 chimed 9:11— a little too slow for my liking.

I adjusted, and miles 3 and 4 clicked away at 8:59 and 9:03. Much better.

Approaching mile 5, I took my salt tablet and saw my watch chime 9:24.

And then a mini panic set in.

I was very bothered at having seen such a bad split and was very close to throwing in the towel at that point. I felt like I was doing well and to see that mile really messed with my confidence. I worried about trying too hard to compensate in the next miles. I started blaming myself for not taking the days leading up to the race seriously. I began to really doubt my ability to sub 2 again.

Things were not looking good.

I ate half a Gu at mile 6 and saw 9:08. Better, but not as close to 9 as I’d like.

Mile 7, 9:03. I felt like I had to work reeeally hard for that one.

It was at this point that my legs felt heavy and I started making all the excuses on why it would be totally okay to not sub 2. My birthday was coming up (it’s tomorrow!), my daughter had gotten sick again the night before, my diet had sucked all week. I mean, I thought of so many “reasons” why it would be perfectly fine not to meet my goal.

Then, two members of my run club passed me and said, “Good job!” I saw them go by and I thought to myself, you’ve got two choices: You could let them go and wallow in self pity or you could join them and finish the race strong.

I don’t know what compelled me in those quick seconds to choose the latter.

Mile 8 chimed in at 8:37!

Mile 9, 8:35
Mile 10, 8:29
Mile 11, 8:39
Mile 12, 8:21!

WE WERE PASSING PEOPLE. *I* was passing people!

I didn’t know what the hell was happening to me but I was running and I was running fast. My two friends probably said two words to me the entire time but they kept me going and pushing and you know what the funny thing was? I didn’t feel tired! I didn’t feel like I’d felt at mile 7 when I felt like I was working so hard. No, these last 5 miles had gone by so quick, literally, that I didn’t even have the chance to think about how I felt.

I told Stacey and Lori at mile 11 that if I crossed the finish line with them, I would seriously cry. I had done the math, I would kill my PR if I stayed at their pace.

At mile 12, we saw another one of our run club friends, and Stacey announced that we should catch him. At that point, I was just following the leader so if that’s what she wanted to do, well then by golly, that’s what I was going to do.

We reached him at about 12.5ish and he encouraged us to finish strong. We all begin turning the corner to the finish together.

I always like to (or try to anyway) end with a “kick” and it was when we turned that corner that I mustered up whatever energy I had left to cross that finish line as fast as I could.

I gunned it, passing my two friends and the third one we’d met near the end.

My last mile was 8:13.

And my official time….

1:55:37!!!! ONE FIFTY FREAKING FIVE!!!

You have no idea how happy I felt crossing that finish line. I grabbed my medal and went straight to meet up and hug the hell out of Stacey and Lori–I knew there was no way I would’ve done it without them that day.

My husband was waiting for me with a huge grin. He knew that I had blown my PR away (for me, an almost 3 minute improvement is HUGE).

I asked him his time and he’d killed his own PR at an insane 1:42:05!!! A 6 minute difference!!!

We had just run the race of our lives.

I don’t think I stopped smiling all day yesterday or thinking about the race. I’ve replayed it so many times trying to understand how it happened. I don’t know what made me decide to just go for it, to just try and give going faster a shot. I never thought I could maintain an 8:30something pace in a half marathon–or at the back end of one no less!! My husband would often tell me that I keep myself from reaching my own potential. And it’s true. I totally psych myself out. This race showed me that I can do it. That hey, maybe with more training, I can do it for an entire race!

I couldn’t think of a better way to end the year and my last race in my 20s. Tomorrow I turn 30 and all I’ve got to say is, “Bring it on, new age group!!” 😀

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I hope you all had a fabulous weekend! Did anyone else race or long run? I hope it was awesome!!

–Do you ever psych yourself out? How do you tell/convince yourself that you can do something?

 

Marathon Training Week 3 and Turkey Trot 5k Recap

Whew! I’m alive!

I realize it’s December now and I’m a little late on this Turkey Trot Recap lol, but….

I went home to Mexico (well the border, but same thing) for Thanksgiving and came back with two sick kids and a sick mommy 😦

We got to my hometown Wednesday night and I had plans to run the local Turkey Trot the next morning. I kinda really wanted to run it since last year it was my first “official” race post pregnancy and I wanted to see if I could beat my time–last year was 25:40– and, most importantly, it’s also a race that raises money to help local cancer patients and their families. My mother-in-law is in her second battle with breast cancer.

I used to run up that 'D' hill during cross country :)

I used to run up that ‘D’ hill during my high school cross country years 🙂

I knew that circumstances would be different than the previous year. I was alone without my husband to help with the kids so sleeping arrangements were me with two toddlers in a small room. Yeah, not a lot of sleep happening. I managed to get in a couple of hours and was up with the sun my son at 5 a.m. (actually, the sun wasn’t even up then!) The race started late, 9 a.m., and I was thankful for this so my body could adjust to the exhaustion I was feeling from traveling the night before and little sleep.

At the race I met up with my fave high school buddy, Camilla, and we chatted as the smaller kid races passed. Her son ran his first 40 yard dash and it was the cutest thing! I wanted my daughter to participate but didn’t enter her because I wanted daddy to be there too–next year 🙂

Then it was my turn! I scooted myself at the front and chatted with a girl I knew would place in my age group–she always does. The horn sounded and I saw her speed off. I tried very hard to maintain even splits but that first mile always goes by so fast and my watched beeped away a 7:40 something mile.

Mile two was an uphill incline and it always gets me. I managed to stick to a mid 8 minute mile and tried so hard to get a better 3 mile. I barely got it under an 8:30 and finished the race with a 25:11 (8:12/mile). Just about 30 seconds better than last year’s race! Not a PR but that wasn’t what I wanted; I wanted to beat the previous year’s time and I did it 😀

Camilla was cheering me on at the finish line and snagged this pic of me gunning it at the end

It doesn't look like I'm going fast but it sure felt like it lol!

It doesn’t look like I’m going fast but it sure felt like it lol!

I went to look at the race results and saw I had finished 4th in the 20-29 age group—juuust missed it! Next year I’ll be 30 and the odds will ever be in my favor as there were only about a handful this year and I counted about 4 that finished slower than me. So I have that to look forward to–at least for my hometown race lol!

The rest of the day was spent with family and the next day, Friday morning, is when the unhealthy bug bit us. My son woke up vomiting and was miserable the entire day. I decided to call the trip short and leave Saturday back home and when we got there, it was my daughter’s turn. She was even worse and lasted the next two days super sick 😦 On Monday, I went to work the most sleep deprived I’d ever been probably since my kids were newborn. I made it through 1st period before I had to call in for a sub. I felt so sick and I knew that it was now my turn to suffer.

It was the longest time of no running since I could remember (not counting post-marathon rest) but I felt like it did me a lot of good to rest my body and let myself fully recover.

Prior to the Turkey Trot I had run on Tuesday a good solid 5 miles at an 8:58 pace which brought me to weekly total mileage of: 8.1

Yep, lol!

–How was your running week(end)? Did you Turkey Trot?

–Ever ran sleep deprived?

 

I’ve got some humble pie left over if you want some

Part of my recap for my training this past week includes a half marathon race.

I’ll start there.

The Gilbert 1/2 was an anticipated race because it’s local–like less than two miles away from where I live. This being the case, the route was along roads and canals that I frequent making the course advantageous to me in some ways.

Yeah, uh huh.

I woke up and got ready, dressed in shorts and my run club shirt. I packed an extra set of clothes in case I wimped out being so exposed. (Yep, I later redressed in my car.)

I met up with my run club amigos near the start and we talked about how silly we were for being so cold–considering those in the east coast were suffering through record breaking snow.

I chit chatted with Harry (who ran a 1:34!) and he pep-talked me into running the race hard. I had been going back and forth between treating the race more like a training run–considering I’d run a marathon 4 weeks earlier) or taking advantage of the familiarity of the course and attempting another sub 2 hour–maybe even PRing.

I decided on the latter.

The first four miles were great. I was feeling pretty good and well under the pace I needed to sub 2. I made a mental challenge to try and continue to keep my splits under 9 minutes. The next 3 miles were pretty darn close but still successful.

Then I started feeling twinges of pain in my groin around mile 8 and felt myself slow down considerably. I felt that I was still on pace to get a sub 2 though and didn’t let my spirits falter despite registering the next 2 miles well above 9 minutes.

I don’t know what the hell happened to mile 11 and it wasn’t until after the race that I saw it had been an almost 10 minute mile!Somehow, I had missed hearing the beep of the split and failed to see how much my pace had slowed. To me, I felt like I had still been maintaining pace (funny how that happens huh?)

I attempted quick math in my head to see what I needed to do to finish strong but saw again, for the millionth time in my life, how much I struggle with simple addition and subtraction. I decided to just finish as strong as I could so when I saw mile 12 approaching, I began to speed up.

And that’s when my calves awoke. The worst calf cramping I’d ever experienced joined me on that last mile. I cursed and swore and yelled at myself (in my head) that there was no way in hell these cramps were going to keep me from sub 2ing.

I hopped, tip-toed, skipped–did whatever I could to cross that finish line without stopping, trying my hardest to not lose that sub 2.

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My official time was 2:00:16.

 

TWO HOURS AND 16 SECONDS.

Seventeen seconds people. Seventeen seconds.

And I have absolutely nothing and no one to blame but myself.

I had been so confident that I had that sub 2 in the bag, I let it run away. The race wasn’t finished at mile 8, when I had comforted my concerns at having had 2 miles so close to the necessary, required pace. The race wasn’t done at mile 10 either, when I again eased any fears at having registered two miles well over the necessary time.

Waking up at mile 12, by then it was too late.

When I crossed that finish line I was so upset at myself. I was upset that I had let myself run that race so badly. I was upset that I wasn’t celebrating with my friends who had subbed 2’d.

I was upset that at mile 7, I had already been celebrating.

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I have no idea where I was here but I apparently was still in high spirits.

 

It took a few minutes for me to regroup and set aside my own frustrations to focus on my friends, several of whom had achieved a major goal of sub 2ing for the first time. They had been training long and hard and it really was no surprise they’d done it. They’d trained and ran a smart race (unlike me). I took several pics with them and helped them celebrate a well earned PR. I sincerely was/am happy for them as they truly deserved that accomplishment.

When I walked back to my car, I sent a message to my husband to call me as soon as he could. He’s been out of town the country for several weeks and it’s been so hard without him. I really needed him at that moment.

He called me and just like I knew he would, made me feel so much better. He let me know what a dummy I was but told me that this was what I needed. That I got much more from this race than what I would have gotten had I actually subbed 2.

And he’s so right.

When I got my sub 2 earlier this year, I had worked so hard for it. I put months of training (this was 6 months after having my second baby!), studied the course, practiced my splits, thought about it constantly. Crossing that finish line at 1:58:11 was seriously one of my biggest accomplishments ever–even surpassing running my first marathon. I was so emotional and so proud of myself.

I didn’t deserve this sub 2 and now, a couple of days post race, I’m really glad I didn’t get it.

————————

The rest my training week prior was somewhat uneventful–well, kinda.

On Monday I met up with my co-workers and did more stadium drills. On Tuesday I ran 4 miles with my run club at half marathon pace (ja!) and I took a rest day on Wednesday.

Thursday was the last Adventure Run my local shoe store was hosting so a bunch of people from my run club met up to run it. A lot of us were taking it easy considering we had the race that following Saturday.

I was happy with the 3 miles we mapped out but as we were reaching the end, my throat felt scratchy. Then I started to feel my palms itch. And then my legs.

I was having another allergy attack.

I was able to finish and I sat down to organize my tickets for the raffle and hoped the symptoms would just fade away.

They didn’t.

I told a friend I was feeling an attack coming but that I felt okay enough at the moment to drive myself home. I promised to text her as soon as I got there. As soon as I got home, I took some Benedryl and lay down.

The race on Saturday looming, I wondered whether or not I should run it. But yeah, we know what happened lol!

I’m frustrated that these attacks keep happening and that I’ve never gotten a clear explanation on what causes them. The doctor said it was just Exercise Induced Anaphylaxis and that there are really no preventative measure besides not running. (Yeah, no.) He suggested I take allergy medicine prior to each run but I don’t like that idea. It figure it’s just something I’ll have to deal with. It doesn’t happen every time I run or exercise and luckily I can feel the symptoms as they arise and take care of it as soon as they come. It’s just scary and frustrating.

Anyway, how was your running weekend?

Have you ever had a character building run/race? What are some things you’ve learned from running?