The year in review...and what's next

While I have been a runner for many years (my first marathon was 17 years ago!!), the last year has been a time of significant growth for me in my life as a runner.

Until last year, running had always been a very solitary pursuit for me.  I did all of my running by myself, partly due to scheduling conflicts but mostly because I didn't know any women runners who lived nearby and enjoyed running longer distances.  I wasn't a member of any running clubs and never had someone to keep me company on my 20 mile training runs.  As much as I loved running, it was never something that I was able to share with anyone else -- literally (as in running with someone) or figuratively (as in writing/reading/talking about my passion with someone else who actually cared).

Last June, I was searching the internet for others who had successfully battled tendinitis of the foot when I came across some running blogs.  I had never been one who read or followed any blogs and didn't have any friends who wrote one, either.

I started reading about these women and their attempts to balance their passion for running and their struggles with eating healthy, raising kids, working (in or out of the home), grocery shopping, cooking, volunteering at their kids' schools, practicing yoga, keeping their houses (relatively) clean and keeping their spouses (relatively) happy.  These women supported each other, encouraged each other, comforted each other and motivated each other.

They certainly don't all have everything in common -- some are married, some are single, some have kids, some are childless, some are young, some are old, some are overweight, some are thin, some are fast, some are slow, some are vegan and some live in the midwest.  [Any vegans from the midwest??]  But they all share a love of all things running.

I became inspired.

I started a blog.
I hired a running coach.
I registered for Boston.
I set a big goal to run a sub-3:30 marathon.
I turned 40.  (Okay, this one wasn't something I chose to do or even wanted to do...but it seemed like a big deal to be doing all of this while turning a pivotal age where most runners are starting to slow down.)
I made new running friends who believed in me.
I put in the miles.
I hit the track.
I became comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I added cross training.
I developed a strict post-run recovery routine.
I started going to bed earlier in order to maximize sleep.
And last, but not least, I started to believe in myself.

a jacket I literally had to work for

40th birthday celebrations

Putting in the miles

The site of many 800m repeats

learning to become comfortable running in freezing temps

post-run smoothie

I've looked at this many, many times during my runs

I almost reached my goal in Boston when I ran a 3:30:30 and then finally did a few weeks later with a 3:25:25 in Newport, Oregon.  I was so happy at that moment that I was ready to hang up my running shoes and walk off into the sunset.

But now that a couple of weeks have passed, it is time to start focusing on what's next.

I took a full week off with no exercise whatsoever and then decided to start the Insanity DVD's.  I had bought them a year or so ago but had never actually done them.  I am almost finished with my second week of the program and am really enjoying it so far.  I thought it would be a good way to strengthen my core while also giving my legs a little bit of a break.  As it turns out, my left knee has been really bothering me every time I have tried running so it is probably a good thing for me to be mixing it up a little these days.  Sometimes I run 2 miles on the treadmill after the Insanity workout but even that short run bothers my knee so now I'm taking another week off from running.

I also am realizing that Hood to Coast is just two months away and, at some point, I will need to start training for it.  Running HTC this year is not something that I was planning on doing.  I ran it one time, about ten years ago, and had a great time but I was a last-minute addition to the team and only knew one person in my van.  I knew I wanted to do it again one day and then the opportunity presented itself about two months ago when a friend offered me an entire team to buy.  I jumped at the chance and am looking forward a fun, exhausting and unforgettable weekend with a mix of college friends, high school friends, friends of friends and my husband!!

I haven't yet thought much past HTC but my tentative plan is to run some shorter races in the fall and then pick another goal marathon for next spring...I'm thinking of Boston or maybe Eugene.  And I'm definitely planning on setting another big goal for that race!

Has anyone done the Insanity program?  Thoughts?  Results??

Anyone else running HTC this year?

Has anyone else run the Eugene Marathon?  Would you recommend it?

- Kristen

2013 Newport Marathon -- Part II

Yesterday I wrote about the days and hours leading up to the Newport Marathon but ran out of time to recap the actual race.  I left off with Kate and I standing at the start line, just moments before the starting gun was fired.

As far as race strategy, my coach had recommended that I run the marathon based entirely on feel and not look at my watch.  I had employed this strategy when I ran a 15k race a couple of months ago and was very happy with it, not only based on my results but also on how freeing it felt to not be a slave to my Garmin.

However, there is a big difference between maintaining a pace for a 15k and doing the same thing for a marathon.  I was mostly concerned that I would go out too fast so I decided to look at my watch in the first few miles and then, at some point during the race, start running entirely on feel.

Mile 1 - 7:57

Mile 2 - 7:55

Mile 3 - 7:57

Mile 4 - 7:34 (downhill)

Mile 5 - 8:11 (uphill)

Although my goal pace was 8:00 per mile, I planned to run the first few miles closer to 8:10.  It was a good thing I was wearing my watch at this point because I had to slow down quite a bit and still ended up just under 8:00 pace.  Mile 4 included a steep downhill portion followed by a steep uphill portion during mile 5.  These first few miles wind through the town of Newport and include some gradual hills.  Mile 5 begins the out-and-back portion that makes up the remainder of the race.

Mile 6 - 7:45 (gradual downhill with a steep downhill part)

Mile 7 -7:54 (gradual downhill)

Mile 8 - 7:48 (gradual downhill)

Mile 9 - 7:56

Mile 10 - 7:53

Miles 6-8 are all gradual downhills and it was at this point that I felt myself running very comfortably and starting to position myself behind a group of runners that looked to be running an even pace.  I remember looking at my watch about mile 7 and thinking that I wasn't sure I could maintain this pace for the entire race, especially considering I'd be climbing this gradual hill at the end.  At mile 10, I glanced at my watch for what would be the final time of the race.  It read 1:18:52.  Basically, I started doing the math in my head and realized I was running an average of 7:53 for the first 10 miles.  I didn't think I could possibly keep it up for another 16.2 miles and could only hope that the little bit of cushion I had built up would be enough to keep me under 3:30.

It was also at mile 10 that I made a conscious decision to go for it.  I had said before that I was going to run it aggressively and leave it all out there.  So at that point, I started to pick up the pace just a bit and enjoyed the immense freedom that comes with running only based on feel.

Mile 11 - 7:50

Mile 12 - 7:45

Mile 13 - 7:42

Mile 14 - 7:45

Mile 15 - 7:44

These were some of the best miles of the race.  I was feeling great and was surprised to find myself passing one person after another.  It was a slow progression but one by one, I would pass every person that I found in front of me.  In fact, not one person passed me (and stayed ahead of me) after mile 10.  I took my second GU during mile 13 and continued with my strategy to walk through every water stop for a good 15 or so seconds, while drinking a cup of gatorade and giving my legs a brief break.

Mile 16 - 7:48

Mile 17 - 7:42

Mile 18 - 7:46

Mile 19 - 7:39

Mile 20 - 7:50

Somewhere between mile 15 and16, we turned around a cone and headed back the way we came.  Once I hit the mile 16 marker, I knew that the race would soon be turning into a mental battle so I did my best to keep running consistently and strong.  My friend, Petra's, words were running through my head:  stay strong and run happy!

When I hit mile 20 and knew I only had 6.2 miles remaining, I was so tempted to look at my watch but refrained from doing so and kept plodding along.  I took my final GU and waited to see if I was going to hit the wall.

Mile 21 - 7:44

Mile 22 - 7:40

Mile 23 - 8:03

Mile 24 - 7:54 (gradual uphill)

Mile 25 - 7:58 (gradual uphill)

Mile 26 - 8:10 (gradual uphill with a steep uphill part)

Last 0.2 - 1:31

I was so focused on the race and yet so relaxed at the same time that I was missing mile markers as they passed.  At around mile 22, a guy ran up along side me and glanced over at me.  "3:25?" he asked.  "Umm, 3:25??", I responded, "Hell, no!  I'm just trying to run a sub-3:30!"  He mentioned his PR was a 3:30 and he was hoping for a 3:25 that day.  That was my first indication that this might turn out to be a very good day for me.

We ran together for the next half mile until we hit a water stop at mile 23, at which point I walked for a good 20 seconds to prepare myself for the next 3.2 miles and the gradual climb up the hill.  When I started up again, he was about 30 yards in front of me.  I watched as he stretched the lead to almost 50 yards and just hoped I didn't fall apart and lose my 3:30 goal.

Although I still hadn't looked at my watch, I knew that with just over 3 miles remaining, I had to keep running strong for just about 25 minutes.  I thought about the last few months of training -- all the sacrifices and hard work it took to get me here -- and knew that my goal was within reach if I could just push through 25 minutes of pain.  Although, honestly, I wasn't in any real pain.  Just standard marathon pain and a strong desire to be done!

At about mile 24, a gazelle passed me.  Or what looked like a gazelle.  He was maybe in his mid 20's with long, lean legs and he had a running style that made him appear to be causally loping along.  I wondered at that point what I looked like and was pretty sure no one would describe me as a gazelle.

Over the course of the next mile, I gradually gained on the guy with the 3:25 goal.  As I neared him and was close to passing him, I began to yell encouragement at him.  I was yelling at him to keep it up and to stay with me.  Even after I passed, I was shouting at him to come along with me but saw he had nothing left to give.  (He found me in the finisher's area and thanked me for my help.  He finished with a 3:27:xx and an almost 3 minute PR.)

Somewhere close to mile 26, I realized I was about to pass the gazelle.  I couldn't believe it.  Who would believe that a 40 year-old, mother of three who used to be content with her 10:00 miles was going to pass a 20-something guy who looked like Ryan Hall?!  As I passed him, he very nicely told me I was "looking strong" and I responded with something equally kind.  At that point, I smiled inside and crested the steep hill that was at the end of mile 26.

The last 0.2 miles were a steep downhill before a sharp turn to the finish.  As I crossed the finish line and saw the time on my watch, I was in shock.  I honestly never in a million years thought I would run a time even close to 3:25.  My official time was 3:25:25.  (I knew Kate would love my time because it had the same ring of perfection as the 3:30:30...but just a bit faster!)

(that pace is only for the last 0.2 miles...my actual ave pace was 7:50)

I was barely off the finish mat when I heard someone yell, "Kristen!!!"  I looked over and there was Raina on the other side of the barricade.  It was the first time we had met in person and she gave me a big hug while I apologized for getting her all sweaty.  She was so sweet and I look forward to meeting her again someday for a local race.

Raina -- a.k.a. Small Town Runner

my Boston 2013 medal will always hold a special place in my heart.  But this finisher's medal made of sea glass is absolutely gorgeous!

I quickly picked up my race bag and called Kate to see where she was.  Kate knew she wouldn't be able to run the entire distance so she ran her own unofficial half marathon and then jumped on a spectator bus to get a ride back to the finish.  She then walked/ran another two miles back to our hotel and drove my car to the finish so I wouldn't have to walk anywhere after my race.  I can't possibly thank her enough for all she did for me over the weekend.  Her positive and supportive attitude helped me relax and just enjoy the race.

We headed back to the hotel so I could take a quick ice bath and then went to lunch where I was sporting my awesome compression gear for the long ride back to Portland.

even the ice bath couldn't wipe the smile off my face

rocking my compression socks at lunch

I called my coach from the car to thank him for all the help, support and guidance he has given me over the past six months.  As much as I'd love to continue having him as my coach, with his help, I accomplished what I set out to do this training cycle and it is time for me to take a break.  I said to him on the phone that it was "time for me to retire -- I'm going to go out on top like Michael Jordan did (the first time, anyway)."  I was so happy and content that I felt I would be okay if I never ran another marathon for the rest of my life.

But then he said, "Now it is time for you to go get that 3:20."  And I must admit, he's got me thinking...

- Kristen

2013 Newport Marathon -- Part I

I am not even sure where or how to begin writing my recap of the Newport Marathon.  It is ironic because the last six months of my running life have been focused on one goal -- to run a sub-3:30 marathon at Newport -- and now that the marathon has passed, I am at a loss for what parts of the experience to share.

I suppose the best place to start is on Thursday afternoon when I pulled up to the airport and welcomed Kate to my beloved city.  It was Kate's first visit to Portland and she had a long list of places she wanted to go, food she wanted to eat and drinks she wanted to consume.  But first, we had to get through the marathon.  

We had dinner at home with my family where my kids immediately fell in love with Kate.  (I know she was feeling the love early Friday morning when they woke her from a deep sleep by climbing in bed with her.)  What's not to love about these faces?

they finally discovered the tinted chapstick that my mom put in their Christmas stockings

After spending a few hours eating breakfast, walking to my favorite coffee shop, getting packed and picking up some yummy vegan food for the road, we finally left downtown Portland around 12pm and headed for Newport, Oregon.

just about to leave my house for Newport

As we drove the 2.5 hours to the race expo, Kate couldn't stop gushing about how lush, beautiful and green the trees were.  And how many there were.  As much as I envy her the constant sunshine of San Diego, I really would miss being surrounded by green.  (Or at least that is what I tell myself.)

The marathon is limited to 900 runners so the expo was really small -- a couple of folding tables selling t-shirts and not much else.  After picking up our race packets, we headed to our hotel and had this amazing view from our room.

Newport beach

The weather was shaping up to be almost perfect for a marathon with low 50's forecasted at the start and no rain.  Unfortunately, I was feeling anything but confident as my head hit the pillow that night.  Due to some "aggressive" self-massaging of my left IT band, I had a bruise on my left knee that hurt to the touch and was painful while walking.  It had shown up three days earlier and I had skipped all workouts in the days leading up to the race in order to rest it and ice as much as possible.  The worst part was knowing a self-inflicted pain could derail months of training.

As Kate pointed out, however, I had already had run a great race in Boston where I set a new PR of 3:30:30.  And Kate loved my time so much that she almost thought I should just let it stand -- something about the 30:30 part of it seeming so perfect.  I knew she was right that I had a lot to be proud of and I think it helped ease my anxiety enough that I got a good amount of sleep.  Or at least what I consider to be good before a marathon (5.5 hours).  

The first thing I did when I woke up was to gingerly touch my knee to see how it felt.  I felt a huge wave of relief when I discovered it was almost completely better!  I made coffee and had some breakfast while reading my emails to pass the time.  

The first message I read was from my sweet friend, Petra, wishing me luck on the marathon.  She ended her email with the words "stay strong and be happy!"  I immediately decided to adopt that as my mantra for the race.  Petra was also running a marathon that same morning in the UK and was targeting a sub-3:40 time.  Given the time difference, her race was already over.  I was bursting with happiness for her when I read that she had run a 3:37:39 and won her age division!!  Additionally, it gave me some confidence that I could reach my goals, too.  

A few more pictures before the race...

about to leave the hotel...ready to go!

the state park where the race starts

our twin Brooks Pure Flows

As we stood shivering in the starting corral, I looked over at Kate and mentioned how nervous I was. 

There is something unique to knowing you are about to embark on that which you have invested so much in -- hours and hours of precious time, lots of hard work, countless early mornings, gallons of sweat -- and it all comes down to what is right before you.  The physical, mental and emotional challenge of running 26.2 miles is one that both frightens me and invigorates me.  That feeling of nervous excitement just before the guns goes off is unparalleled.  At that point, your destiny is in your own hands and in your heart.  You just have to go get it.  

[To be continued with the actual race recap...]

- Kristen

A Fine Balance

Does anyone else feel like they are walking a tightrope during the last month of marathon training?  Walking that fine line between too much and not enough running/rest?

I am just four days out from the Newport Marathon and the last few weeks have been a real struggle for me.  I can't tell if my fatigue and exhaustion are simply due to low iron or if I'm just not cut out for back-to-back marathons and having to train so soon after a hard race.

There is such a fine balance between getting enough training and getting enough rest, especially when attempting two marathons close together.  From my schedule, it looks like I have been erring on the side of rest.  After taking a week off completely, I have run only 3 days/week in the six weeks since Boston.  That's nothing for a marathoner.  But I am also cross training 2 days/week and I am always tired.  Although I'm hitting (most of) my paces on my runs, they seem so much harder than they should.

I feel under-prepared for this marathon and, yet, I'm so exhausted that I can't imagine doing anything more than I'm already doing.

Honestly, I just have no idea what is going to happen on race day.  [Then again, when do we ever really know what to expect?!]  But there is one thing I know for sure and that is that I'm going to leave it all out there.  I have a goal of running a sub-3:30 marathon and while my 3:30:30 at Boston came very close, it's not close enough.

Boston was never my goal race.  When I signed up for Newport a few months ago, I decided that Boston would be more for the experience and Newport would be where I would push my limits.  And my plan still is to run it aggressively and see what happens.  I just wish I had a little more confidence going into it than I do right now.  My body is so tired that my confidence is beginning to waver...

So for the next four days, I plan to rest my body as much as possible and put my mind to work instead.  We have all heard the saying "Running is 90 percent mental and the rest is physical."  I am usually fairly strong mentally but can feel myself faltering as this fatigue wears me down.  It is time to kick this self-doubt to the curb.

Sir Edmund Hillary said, "It's not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves."

Nike said it another way:

Nike ad

While I'm focusing on my mental game and getting ready for Saturday, I'm also getting ready for a weekend visitor!  Kate and I met through our blogs last fall and immediately felt a connection with one another.  We share a love of

a sweaty long run with a girlfriend
a steaming mug of freshly roasted coffee
a soul-cleansing yoga class
an aimless walk through a farmers market market
a spur-of-the-moment dance party in the living room
a lazy late afternoon on the beach
an overflowing plate of vegan food
a beautifully written book
a delicious glass of wine and
anything funny that will make us laugh until we cry.

Despite the fact that we are also opposite in many ways -- as a single gal living in sunny San Diego, her daily life is much different than my married, mother of three kids life in rainy Portland -- we are both soul and sole sisters.

at the finish line of Boston...the day before the race

Anyway, Kate and I decided a few months ago to sign up and run Newport together.  She had never been to Portland and loved the idea of combining a marathon with a trip to Portland.  Our running times are almost identical and we had the same goals for both Boston (running for fun) and Newport (targeting around 3:25).

For almost all of my races, I am alone at the starting line and running by myself throughout the entire race.  Occasionally, my husband and I will run a race together but even on those days, he likes to inch up to the starting line while I prefer to hang back a little to keep myself from starting too fast.  And even if we were to start together, we always have different time goals.  Newport was going to be a first for me in this sense.  Kate and I would travel to the race together on Friday (2.5 hour drive from Portland), start the race together the next morning and, hopefully, run together for most or all of the race.

But as anyone who has ever undertaken marathon training knows, just getting to the starting line healthy and ready to run is a major accomplishment.  Never mind trying to get your friend there, too.

So, sadly, it doesn't look as if Kate will be running much of the race on Saturday.  Her body has been on strike ever since Boston and she finally had to give in to the demand for rest.  She's had a few good runs but even more bad runs.

Regardless, we are both still so excited for the weekend and all the fun it will bring.  She is looking forward to being my biggest cheerleader (my husband is going to stay in Portland with the kids) and enjoying the stress-free role of spectator.  And I am looking forward to her falling in love with Portland so that she will move here one day.

Somehow I have to convince her that this:

Forest Park in Portland

is better than this:

Kate on her fave running trail in San Diego

Wish me luck.

- Kristen

Fatigue, Ferritin and my First 5K

Today marks exactly four weeks since the Boston Marathon.  A lot has happened in the past four weeks and yet, if I close my eyes, I am right back there again.  The panic, confusion, terror, sadness and anger...plus the gratitude, thankfulness and relief at being unharmed.  And then a lot of guilt that accompanies those feelings.

While some of the sharpness of those emotions has begun to fade, I will always carry a piece of that day in my heart.  Like a jagged rock that has water rushing over it for years on end, it eventually will become a smooth stone.  But it will never completely disappear.

[So many others carry permanent physical reminders of that day so, again, I know I am lucky in comparison.  And I am forever grateful for the many, many heroes  who did anything from save a life to loan a stranger their cell phone so that they could call loved ones.  Bostonians opened up their collective hearts and houses to all the displaced runners in a way that will never be forgotten.]

But life does march on, regardless of whether we are ready for it or not.  

********************

For me, the past four weeks have been a balancing act of trying to recover from Boston while starting to train for another marathon.  A few months ago when we were feeling healthy, strong and invincible, Kate and I thought it would be a great idea to run the Newport Marathon just seven weeks after running Boston.  It was the first time running Boston for both of us and we had heard that it was a challenging course -- the downhills at the beginning were known to crush your quads and the hills from mile 17-21, culminating with Heartbreak Hill, were said to crush your spirit.  So our plan was to have fun at Boston but not run it too aggressively.  We were hoping to save ourselves a little for Newport, a very flat and fast marathon, where we both wanted to smash our old PR's.

What is it they say about the best laid plans?!  

For days after Boston, I cursed the fact that I lived in a four story house.  Getting from my bedroom on the third floor to the laundry room in the basement was pure torture.  I was convinced I had strained my quads because I had never experienced such pain almost a week after a marathon.  

After diligently taking a full week off from running, I had no choice but to start running again if I wanted to be in decent shape for Newport.  I took it easy that first week back and spent a lot of time pool running in order to minimize the pounding on my legs.  I slowly increased my training and even managed an 18 mile run just two weeks after the marathon but I couldn't seem to shake a lingering sense of deep fatigue.

this run felt much harder than it should have...

I was exhausted by early afternoon each day and ready to go to bed right after the kids each night.  Initially, I assumed it was due to jumping back into training so quickly after a marathon.  But then I remembered Amanda having similar feelings and it turned out her iron levels were low.  So I made an appointment to have my blood drawn to see if there was anything similar going on with my iron.  

Turns out I was suffering from the same thing as Amanda.  As a vegetarian and also a pre-menopausal woman, I am at increased risk of becoming anemic.  Add long-distance running to the mix and the risk goes up even more.  [The constant pounding of our feet against the pavement can cause the destruction of red blood cells.]  Although I am not technically anemic, my ferritin levels are very low, which basically means I am suffering from iron depletion.  If I were a couch potato, having low ferritin levels wouldn't necessarily be a problem.  But it can have a big impact on running performance.

I am now taking an iron supplement that will hopefully boost my iron stores, although it takes anywhere from six weeks to four months to really feel an impact.  I plan to get my blood tested again in six months to see where my levels are at and hopefully transition off the supplements if I can make enough dietary changes to compensate.  

In the meantime, the date of my next marathon is looming closer and closer.  I was able to complete another 20 mile training run last Thursday as well as an 8x800 track workout but my legs just feel constantly tired and sluggish, as does the rest of me.

So don't ask me why, in the middle of all this marathon training and constant fatigue, that I would then decide to sign up to run my very first 5K.  

There are two main reasons I have never run a 5K.  First, it always has sounded like so much hassle -- registering, paying a race fee, driving somewhere, standing around at the start, etc. -- all for an event that will be over so (relatively) quickly.  Second, it just sounded so HARD.  Yes, marathons are hard, too.  But a 5K is a much different kind of pain and one that I am not used to feeling.

However, because it was on Mother's Day, I decided I could endure all the hassle involved and be able to run this 5K guilt-free while my husband took the kids to church.  We would meet at home afterwards and all head to brunch together.  

When I woke up early yesterday morning to head to the race, I immediately regretted my decision to register for the 5K.  My legs simply did not feel recovered from the 20 mile run I had completed three days earlier.  And when I looked at the weather app on my phone and saw that it was already 63 degrees out and 85 percent humidity, I knew it would be a tough day.  

my poor legs just can't catch a break...

I drove across town to the suburban high school where the race was being held and found myself surrounded by hundreds of moms and their families.  There was a kids 1 mile race that was held before the 5K and I couldn't help but smile when I watched them take off at a dead sprint for their race.  

I ran into some friends at the start and one of them mentioned that the top 3 finishers by gun time would receive prizes.  We both thought it was strange to use gun time when we all had timing chips on our bib but she wanted to start near the front in order to improve her chances at winning a prize.  She is a phenomenal runner and I had no doubt she would place in this race -- she had finished 4th woman overall in a half-marathon just the day before!  

I went ahead and started near the front with her and suddenly we were off and running.  My plan was just to run based on feel and not look at my watch.  The first 200 meters were on the track and then we headed out on the streets surrounding the high school.  The streets were nice, wide and empty and the runners quickly thinned out.  I was surprised to find myself in sixth place fairly early on and passed three runners in the first half of the race, putting myself in third place overall.  My speedy friend, Kelly, was in second place (where she ultimately finished) but still far ahead of me.  Amazing job, Kelly!!

The race seemed to go on forever.  I couldn't believe 3.1 miles could be so torturous.  My legs had felt dead from the start but it was my breathing that seemed out of control near the end.  I could feel my body screaming for oxygen but I couldn't get it in fast enough!  Thankfully, it was finally time to turn back into the stadium and finish the last 200 meters on the track.  The 4th place woman was a ways behind my at that point and I cruised to a 3rd place finish in 21:24.  Or so I thought.  

Long story short, despite what was on the website, the prizes went to the top 3 finishers by chip time not gun time.  Of course, that is the only fair way to award prizes and it is how it should have been from the beginning.  And it wasn't like I ever thought I had a chance of winning a prize in the first place.  But that gift basket did look amazing and it included 2 hours of free housecleaning -- what mom doesn't need that?!  Ha!

When I finally saw the results, it turned out another woman had taken almost 40 seconds to cross the start line and she beat me by 3 seconds.  Who knows if I had another 3 seconds in me but I am just happy to finally have a 5K time in my running book.  I will now have to run another one on fresh legs (and hopefully cooler temps) to see if I can improve on that time.  

As much as I didn't like that I-think-I'm-gonna-die feeling that I experienced around mile 2.5, I can see where these shorter races can be somewhat addicting.  You could train specifically for these shorter distances and run them much more often.  And if the race doesn't go as planned, at least you don't have the feeling that comes with knowing you put months and months of time and effort into such a long marathon training cycle and ended up disappointed.  

All that is merely speculation, though, as I still am focused on the marathon for now.  I'm hoping my last 20 mile run goes well this Wednesday and then I'm off to spend a relaxing, fun weekend with six of my best girlfriends before heading into taper once again.  

can't wait to see these ladies (plus one more) in just a few days!!

Anyone else suffer from low iron?  

Am I the only one who finds 5K's harder than marathons?  

- Kristen

Running with an Angel

It was early spring of 2012 and I was running on a neighborhood route that I have run at least a hundred times.

Turn right out the front door.  Run four blocks and then turn left.  Continue straight for a mile and a half until the street dead ends at the high school.  Run as many one mile loops around the high school as necessary before turning around and heading back home.

I like this route for runs that are under 10 or so miles, especially on runs where I need to keep a specific pace.  It is an easy, flat run that doesn't cross any major intersections and the streets are usually empty enough that I can run in the street without worrying about traffic.  The streets are lined with 100 year-old maple trees providing shade (or, more often, rain cover) for the equally old homes in the neighborhood.  It is the perfect route for the everyday, run-of-the-mill miles that I do mid-week during marathon training.  And ideal for letting my mind wander wherever it wants to go.

Back to last spring...

I was running part of this route on one of my long runs and it was a cold, wet and gloomy day.  My mood matched the weather and I just wanted to be done.

Then, suddenly, there was someone running just off my left shoulder.  I knew instantly that it was my mom's dear friend, Trudy.  I had grown up going on rafting trips on the Lower Salmon River in Idaho with Trudy's family.  These week-long, unguided, filled-with-adventure raft trips were the highlight of our summers when we were young.  Spending a week in the great outdoors with no walls for privacy (and a shared poop bucket that we carried with us in a raft every day) made for some close ties between us all.  Ghost stories told over late night campfires, early mornings watching the sunrise over the canyons, water fights between rafts that left us all soaking wet, quiet afternoons spent reading books with our feet buried in the sand...this is where Trudy's family, along with all the other families, became not only friends and neighbors but like family.

group pic after a game of beach volleyball - Lower Salmon River (circa 1991)

early morning quiet before the sun rises above the canyon walls

Middle Fork of the Salmon (1998)

So it was with joy and happiness that I felt Trudy's presence next to me on that gray, chilly day last spring.  I found myself suddenly noticing the early cherry blossoms on the trees, the bit of sunlight struggling to make its way through the thick cloud cover as the rain lightened, the lone bird singing a song and the tulips that were just beginning to bloom.  My pace quickened and my spirit lifted.

As it turns out, Trudy had passed away just a few months earlier, following a courageous battle with cancer.  Although she obviously wasn't actually running with me in the physical sense, she was there in every other sense -- helping me to see the beauty that surrounded me, to hear the sounds of life in my neighborhood, to smell the freshly cut grass and and to fill my heart with a sense of peace.

When I returned home from that run, I emailed Trudy's daughter, Sara, to let her know what I had experienced and to thank her for "sharing" her mom with me for a little while.  In all the time I had known Trudy, I had never even known her to be a runner.  As it turns out, she was a runner in her younger days and one of the last memories that Trudy shared with Sara in the week before she passed away was one about running with a girlfriend and feeling the fresh air on her face while watching the sun rise.

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Fast forward about a year and I found myself again plodding along my same route on a similarly gray day in late March.  I had probably run along this same stretch of road almost a hundred times since that day last spring.  Once again, I was training for a marathon and was just putting in the miles on a day when my heart wasn't really in it.  And, again, Trudy was suddenly with me, just off my left shoulder.

By the end of the run, the sun was bursting through the clouds and my soul was equally bursting with gratitude.  Gratitude for my family, my friends, my health, my life...and for the gift of Trudy.

She left behind a husband, three sons, a daughter, their respective spouses, eight grandchildren and countless friends.  She left behind memories of laughter, tears, hugs, joy and an endless capacity to love others.  Somehow, amazingly so, she continues to do all these same things to this day.  I know I felt her love on those two days this past year and I will always be looking over my shoulder just to see if she wants to run with me again.

Trudy and Dan on their wedding day in 1969

Trudy as a young mom 

Trudy's grandchildren...who will never forget their Grammy

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Has anyone experienced something similar?  Been out for a run and felt the strong and distinct presence of someone else?  

- Kristen

Boston 2013 -- From Beginning to End

As I sit down to share my experience at last weekend's Boston Marathon, I'm still not sure where to begin or where to end.  Do I focus only on what happened after 2:50pm on Monday and those that were injured and killed?  Do I talk about the hundreds of heroes that rushed into harm's way to help?  Do I recount all the good memories that were made in the days leading up to the marathon?  Is it disrespectful to share the details of my race?  If I don't talk about the race, does that let the terrorists "win" in some small way?

After sorting through all my emotions and feelings again and again, I still don't know which is the "right" thing to do.  So I'm going to do the only thing I really know how to do -- share my Boston experience from the (happy) beginning through the (horrible) ending.

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I arrived in Boston on Friday and was so excited to spend a child-free weekend with my husband, see good friends who live in the Boston area, meet new friends in person that I knew through social media and, lastly, experience all the hype and history that surrounds the infamous marathon.

Those who know me or have been following my story know that I was pushing my training to a new level for this race.  I had hired a coach who gave me detailed training plans each week and challenged me to run harder and faster than ever before (while also giving me more rest days than I've ever taken -- I learned so much about quality versus quantity in the last few months.)

My training had been going well and all signs pointed to a great race for me on Monday...until just one week before the race when I was out for an 8 mile run.  I was on a hilly, forested trail and just 1.5 miles into the run, my left knee started to hurt right underneath the knee cap.  It is common to get little niggles early in a run that go away within a mile or two so I kept running.  This one seemed to go away for a little while but then came back strong at mile 6 when I was racing downhill back towards my car.

Long story short, I ended up doing no running at all the rest of the week and spent all my time icing my knee and resting as much as possible.  On Saturday morning in Boston, my husband and I headed out for a 3 mile jog just to loosen my legs and hopefully boost my confidence in regards to my knee.  I ended up in pain just a half mile into the run and had to turn around and walk back to our friend's house, utterly dejected.

I did my best to put any negative thoughts about my knee aside and enjoyed the next two days in Boston with friends.

my first visit to Fenway 

my dear friend, Sarah, who was waiting at the finish line for me on Monday before getting paged to come to work at the ER

Sarah taught me all about April baseball and the importance of "beer gloves"

full of hope and excitement as we met for bagels on Sunday morning

Kate and I at the finish line

we walked past the infamous CITGO sign on Saturday...I got a rush of excitement when I realized the next time I would be this close to the sign would be at mile 25

I remember the soft pink glow of the sky as I first looked outside my hotel window early Monday morning.  The day had finally arrived!  I sent my husband one last text before leaving the hotel room (I had kicked him out to stay with friends the night before the race...I always sleep horribly and it only makes it worse when the person next to me, who doesn't have a race to run, is sleeping like a baby) telling him how nervous I was about my knee.

I met up with Kate and my college friend, Sara, in the early morning hours before the race and we all rode a bus together to Athlete's Village.  Other than a major wardrobe malfunction for Kate (thanks to her dog who likes to eat underwear and had left an enormous hole in her running tights...that she somehow failed to notice earlier), the three of us were amazingly stress-free and calm before the race.  

Kate's running tights...

pre-race hug with Sara in the starting corral

As I stood at the starting line, I looked around and took in all the sights and sounds surrounding me.  The excitement, anxiety, hope and anticipation was almost palpable.  None of us knew exactly what was in store for us that day -- you never really know how your body is going to respond physically, mentally and emotionally to 26.2 miles on any given day -- but none of us could have fathomed this would be a day that would forever be etched in our hearts for reasons having nothing to do with running.

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I had told my husband that I was planning to finish the race no matter what.  That I might be walking for long portions of it -- or limping along -- as my knee was going to dictate the race.  I resolved to start off slow and just take it one step at a time.  I planned to see him at our pre-arranged meeting spots of mile 9 and 16 and then at the finish line.  

If all went well and I had no knee issues whatsoever, I was hoping to run a 3:30 marathon.  As I assessed my chances that morning, I gave myself a 10% likelihood of this actually happening.  Suddenly, the race began and I cruised along at an easy pace on the initial downhill sections.  The miles slowly but surely ticked off one by one.  I waved enthusiastically at my husband and friends at mile 9 and continued on.  Another wave and a quick kiss from my husband at mile 16 before I hit the toughest part of the course -- the infamous hills from mile 17-21 that culminate with Heartbreak Hill.  

all smiles at mile 16

I trudged up and down what felt like endless hills after mile 17 and wasn't paying enough attention to know when I had actually finished with Heartbreak Hill.  I was too distracted by the hundreds of thousands of screaming spectators that were lining the course.  

I have run other "big" marathons in the past, most notably Chicago and NYC, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced.  While the crowds at NYC are huge, I didn't always find them to be loud.  Boston was different from that perspective.  The spectators were literally screaming their encouragement the entire length of the course, not just along the famous Wellesley corridor.  I had brought my ipod along just in case I needed some extra motivation but found I didn't need it even once. I can't say enough good things about the people that came out to scream and yell their encouragement as well as offer anything from wet sponges to ice pops to oranges to keg stands.  (Yes, someone had a "free keg stands to runners" sign and a keg nearby!)

I did my best to run only by feel and was continually amazed that my knee remained pain-free.  And every glance at my watch told me I was running right on pace to reach my goal.  The only real annoyance during my run was the fact that I needed to go to the bathroom.  It was just a matter of when I would stop and whether or not I could make it the entire distance without running into a porta potty along the course.  (The downside of having no pre-race jitters was my inability to take care of the all-important pre-race poop...I know all of you runners reading this will understand!)  Ultimately, I gave in to the growing demand from my body and ran into a bathroom at mile 22.

The last few miles were a blur.  I distinctly remember finding myself with a huge grin on my face as I high-fived children and adults alike.  The roar of the crowd, while already deafening, continued to grow as I took a left turn on Bolyston street and saw the finish line looming before me.

I crossed the line and looked down to see a 3:30:30 on my watch.  A 5 minute PR for me on the first marathon since my 40th birthday on what is a difficult course.  I couldn't have been happier.  As I stumbled through the finish line corral, I collected a bottle of water, bottle of gatorade, protein bar, bag of food and a foil to keep me warm.  Lastly, someone put a finisher's medal around my neck and tears immediately welled up in my eyes.  I had done it.  All those months of hard work and I had reached my goal.  

As I gathered my bag from the baggage bus, I could hear my husband and Sarah yelling my name.  I exited the runner's-only area and was greeted with hugs and congratulations.

my biggest supporter

We chatted for a few minutes at the finish line and then started back towards our hotel.  It was a mile walk that led us through the Boston Common.  I was planning to take a quick ice bath and shower and then we were going to head out to celebrate.  

Just as we arrived at the hotel, Sarah received a text from the hospital where she works, alerting her to explosions at the finish line.  I was so confused.  I couldn't even process the words at first.  An explosion?  Two explosions?  The finish line of the marathon?!

Within minutes, my husband and I began to receive frantic texts and phone calls from friends and family that were worried about our safety.  I was immediately concerned for all the other friends I had running the race, their friends and family, and the thousands of other runners and spectators that were still out there.  Our attempts to check on others were impeded by the fact that the police had shut down cell towers in case more bombs were going to be detonated by cell phones.  

The anxiety only grew as we were told we should evacuate the city.  Sarah ended up having to run (literally) to the hospital as she couldn't find a taxi while her friend drove us out of the city and dropped us off at Sarah's house.  We ultimately heard back that all our friends were safe but our anguish and despair only increased as reports came back with casualties, stories of limbs being ripped from bodies, erroneous reports of additional bombs throughout the city and the knowledge that thousands of runners were separated from family and friends.  

The emotions were overwhelming and I found myself crying often over the next few hours as we sat at our friend's house and tried to comprehend what had just happened.  We couldn't help but think what if?

What if my knee hadn't held out and I had been still on the course and my husband had gone to stand with Sarah (at her spot between where the two explosions occurred)?  

What if we had decided to go back to the sidelines and cheer for our friends that were still out there?

What if my parents and kids had been with us (as we had planned at one point)?

What if Sarah had stayed a while longer instead of meeting us?

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on our way home -- never have I been so happy to see the sun rise

In the end, we were among the lucky ones.  So why is it that I feel so traumatized?  Why is it that when my friend, Marya, sends me a text asking simply "How are you?", I find myself suddenly crying?  Why is it that I still don't feel safe??

My heart is still a mix of emotions right now -- from gratitude that we were spared to heartbreak for those injured and killed to anger at the suspects to guilt that I was able to finish the marathon to fear that next time I will not be so lucky.

Whenever I have something I need to sort through in my heart or in my head, I go for a run.  Unfortunately, my body is deep in recovery mode and I am still not yet able to run.  I am not able to do the one thing that I so desperately need to do right now.

But I know that I will run again.  And I will run Boston again.  And I will volunteer at the finish line of an upcoming race.  And I will continue to be part of this amazing running community that I love so much.  

And Boston 2013 will forever have a place in my heart.