Akron Half and the Summer of Run

Akron rocked something fierce this year. For the third year in a row, the weather was perfect, the streets were lined with cheerleaders and I crossed the finish with a PR.

Talk of the bad weather loomed like scary clouds all week. Cold temps, hard winds, driving rain. We were supposed to get something nasty on Saturday, and I showed up at the start prepared with shorts, a singlet and my trusty Red Sox hat. Unfortunately, I also showed up with a serious need for a bathroom stop.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… I have a history with bathroom starts and Akron. But this year I had an excuse! Long story short: Neil joined the ranks of awesomites running at Akron this year, kicking off “Crazy for Swayze” in the marathon relay. When we saw bathroom lines were too long, he split to hang with Pacer E at the start… and I tried finding a line. Until I realized Neil hadn’t picked up his relay bracelet, that is. I ditched the line with five minutes to go, picked up a bracelet, spied E’s 3:40 sign, and found Neil with a bracelet already in hand. Nuts!

At least I found Landon at the start. Too bad for him, all I could talk about was needing a bathroom. Thankfully for the race and my blog post, the bladder saga didn’t last too long.

We took off into Akron at 7 a.m. sharp, and I had my Strategy A in place: stay within eyeshot of the 3:20 pacer (7:38/mile), aiming for 7:47 splits over 13.1 miles. Imagine my consternation when I hit mile 1 at 7:11 (not another speedster pacer at the start)!

Well, I learned from the Cleveland debacle and slowed down. Landon had taken off with the fast guys and my bladder was weighing my down. I fought my sinking spirits hard… until I heard the next pace group nipping at my heels! How frustrating to think the 3:30 group (8:01/mile) was catching up already.

I almost felt like taking the race easy until the pacer passed. With his 3:20 sign. I didn’t show up at the start with glasses or contacts, so I didn’t notice I was tracking the 3:10 pacer through the first mile. Switching off my negative thoughts, I found a bathroom (lost about 2:00 and the pace group) and then found my rhythm as I ran the most steady, metered and evenly paced race in my three years.

Well, steady for Akron, at least.

It was going to be rough hitting my A Goal (1:42:30) with the bathroom break, but I was going to give Akron and its hills a run for its money. I was surprised, though, by the magnitude of Akron’s hills—despite two previous appearances, I seemed to have deleted all memory of the race route and its complete absence of flats—as I embraced the challenge.

For all Akron’s elevation, it has plenty of supporters cheering you up those damned hills. I lucked out in my race position too: I kept pace with a guy running in full costume as good ol’ Rick Vaughn from Major League! Every crowd we passed erupted in cheers for the guy and he totally kept me on pace, and it was a major bummer when we parted ways at the marathon split.

The rest of the trek was delightfully uneventful. While I had a few momentary cramps and energy slumps, I just ran a very comfortable pace and absorbed the atmosphere. It was way rad to see Landon’s lady Laura race-side handing out high-fives. Her spirits came in quite handy after heart-attack hill… but that’s for mile 12.

We only had a few cool sprinkles throughout the race, so I was burning up under that baseball cap. I thanked my good graces, then, when I caught site of Kate, cheering on the U. Akron campus, and threw all my spare stuff her way. What a savior! (Thank you, Kate!) Rick Vaughn thanked me for ditching the Boston hat, and as I crossed mile 10 at a PR 1:19:30, I assured him it was from my Johnny Damon halloween costume from a few years ago. It was the least I could do.

Although I should have done much more in the way of long, drawn-out hill-training this summer. All was dandy through 11 as we sped downhill just outside downtown Akron. I met Rob from ultrarunner.net and picked up as many seconds the hill offered. But then the marathon split, and it was confirmed: what goes down, must go up.

The half turned onto a part of the towpath where, I’m almost certain, bad people are taken to be tortured. We all went silent, huffing and puffing up heart-attack hill. The route was marked with “5% Grade” signs the whole way up (as if I needed to be reminded I was running uphill), but felt like a much bigger pain. So, I was surprised when I clocked an 8:38 mile-12 split because it felt like 30!

Now, I don’t know Akron very well, but I could tell we were so close to the finish. I gave Laura one last sweaty, happy-to-be-almost-done high-five on my way into downtown and just tried to stay even… while totally emptying the tank!

No one passed me in the last mile, and I was happy to see Neil cheering at the stadium entrance as I barreled down the final street. Akron’s stadium finish can’t be beat, even when the final stretch (cloth-covered grass outfield this year) catches you by surprise the first few steps and makes that final sprint pokier than you’d hoped.

But even as my feet sunk and slipped, I watched the clock and knew that even if I somersaulted to the finish, I’d get a huge PR!

I finished in 1:44:32 (7:58/mile), a 9:06 PR!

Neil led off his relay with a 3.5-mile leg in 29:13. The awesome fivesome ran 26.2 in 4:02:49. Congrats to Neil, Glen, Steven, Melina and Christine! (Neil’s finisher medal is hanging on our fireplace just below his Fantasy Football trophy.) And high-fives all around to Landon, E, Salty, CJV, Janet and everyone who made it to the races, including cheerleaders Nino, Jessica, Laura and Kate.

Akron Half capped a pretty sweet summer for running. Not only did I finally make it to a major race injury-free, I had won my first race at the Holy Cross 5K with a 22:26 PR two weeks earlier. I’m so proud of Neil venturing into the world of running and being so fast… so fast!

And these races have me on pace to wear a Boston hat for good reason when I hit the Pittsburgh marathon this spring.

Running: Lift Us Up Where We Belong

OK, I admit it: I ridicule Northeast Ohioans who complain about the weather.

It’s not just any weather (to an extent, we’re entitled to some quips); it’s mostly snow in March. I can appreciate your need for sun, spring and no more snow, but when in the past twenty years has uninterrupted spring arrived with the vernal equinox?

Being a ridiculer isn’t something I’m proud of. I just don’t think anyone should really be surprised anymore. And among everything else in the world, weather is the one thing we just cannot control.

You can imagine my surprise (and shame) then when on Saturday I was not only queen ridiculer of the NEOhio unfaithful, but I was also a client.

It’s not the snow, the cold, the roads that have gotten to me this year; it’s the limitations for running in any given area. Run in Cleveland Heights: spend two hours walking back in chest-deep snow; run in University Heights: spend 45 minutes running through chest-deep puddles; run in Cleveland: fall into a sink hole and then get splashed by a passing car; run in Hudson or Stow: spend the whole time dodging angry cars who don’t want you running on the street.

None of it’s the end of the world, but I’d like to take a non-track run in which I spend more time focusing on my workout and less on worrying about my life.

Running on the street isn’t bad at all. In quiet neighborhoods. Because of my common schedule (run after work), I’m often running in rush-hour traffic in a younger neighborhood chock full of people willing to drive 50 mph down a 25 mph street.

And I’ve been just waiting to cross paths with the guy who hit me last year to see if he has any vengeance left in his system (and if he ever fixed the palm-dent I left on his hood).

What’s more is this weather makes my blogging kind of bland because each of my runs becomes just another 9:30-10:00/mile run for 30-60 minutes in one of three neighborhoods. Blah blah blah blah blah.

I’ll do another hour run tonight to the tune of mid-30s and sloshy stuff in my shoes. But now I have renewed motivation: on Monday I officially started my six-month training plan for the Akron Marathon on Sept. 27, 2008. Yippee!

How's that for a change of pace?

I’m still having trouble envisioning myself running over 26 miles (in a row), but that realization will come with the six months of training and, well, miles 1-25 at the race, eh? It’s nice to have goals again (which will also include the Cleveland Half and a late-summer Olympic tri) and I’ll post a 2008 race schedule later this week.

The Report of 1:54:10

No sooner had I packed up my second cupcake after the Akron Half Marathon did I come down with the flu (OK, I also went to a birthday party on Saturday and the Browns game on Sunday)!

For years I bragged about never getting sick, but it’s been quite the year for me to be down and out. Everyone seems to think it’s my body’s way of begging for a day off, but I think it’s work germs. I’m going to start wearing rubber gloves and a surgical mask at work now.

But at least I’ve had nearly a week to reflect on the half marathon. And if you’re still interested in getting the full report, here it comes:

By now you know that I did, in fact, find a parking spot! I woke up early on Saturday, ate a Greens Plus bar for breakfast and followed scant early morning traffic into Akron and straight into a University of Akron parking lot. Lucky me! So, I followed a group jogging to the start, picked up some espresso GU and wandered into the starting area.

Never in my life have I seen a race of this size. There were just thousands and thousands of people. And thousands and thousands of good attitudes. I think that’s my favorite thing about running, triathloning, racing, in general: just about everyone involved in these events arrives with a positive attitude. You really have to, don’t you? It’s such a breath of fresh air, a change of pace from the everyday. Did I mention it wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet?

In the pre-dawn darkness I waddled through the crowd in the starting corral and somehow ran into Tom from work. I had twisted his arm about running the Akron Half all summer long, so it was pretty awesome to see him waiting to begin. We talked about our pre-race anxieties (neither of us had ever run a half) and suddenly the race was starting!

We struck out into the dark Akron morning, and, man was it crowded! For the first 2 miles I was stuck in a tight pack and was only able to move maybe 1-2 people ahead when the street gently widened from time to time. I was right behind the 4:00:00 marathon pacer and really wanted to break ahead; we hit mile two at 18:00 and I was really itching to go! My calf was still numb from the BioFreeze, and I wanted to use my early energy and painlessness while I still had it.

Once the sun rose, I had to wiggle out of my hooded sweatshirt and tie it around my waist. To keep it out of my way, I pulled my t-shirt over it (see photos). And then I had someone ask how “far along” I could run a half marathon. Sigh. It’s the third time this year I’ve heard someone assume a non-pregnant woman was with child. So, I thought I would take this moment to remind people that you should never ask a woman whether she’s pregnant unless she’s a) talking about it or b) has a baby coming out of her. That’s my public service announcement!

Finally, around mile three the crowd loosened. We headed back into downtown Akron, whose streets were lined with cheerers—5-6 people deep in some spots. The number of supporters at the race blew my mind almost as much as the number of runners. Absolutely awesome! What was even better: we were able to have our names printed on our bibs, so as I ran by some crowds of people I didn’t know, they would yell, “Go Gina! You look great!” Thank you people I don’t know! You were fantastic! It really made me want to visit more races and cheer on more people I don’t know.

But there’s always a down side: it was right around this downtown section that I was stuck again in a small pack. We were running a good pace at this point, but I was stuck behind a guy who, umm, had a gas problem. Cover your ears if you’re sensitive to flatulence stories. Cruising through downtown, I heard this repeating noise that I thought was coming from the guy’s shoe in front of me. I wasn’t quite so lucky as I soon caught wind of what was actually going on. On the one hand, I felt bad for the guy who was obviously having stomach issues… but then I felt bad for me because I had to hold my breath while running uphill toward mile 4!

I missed the mile-3 marker while trying to escape, but I hit the mile 4 marker at 34:45. At this point I was less concerned with my original goal (8:30/mile) and just aimed to beat 9:00/mile for each marker. Following my training plan’s advice for the race, I reached a comfortable pace and just maintained it throughout the race. I also walked the aid stations to get proper hydration and avoid evil stitches.

Proper hydration and nutrition, however, does not include doubling up on energy gel. For me at least. Before I reached the 10K aid station, I took down the raspberry Hammer gel I brought with me and then grabbed a vanilla GU at the stop. I washed it all down with water and ran on my way. It wasn’t three minutes after I crossed the 10K mark (53:41) that I started getting some serious heart palpitations. Apparently I don’t handle doubled-up caffeine energy as well as I had hoped. I felt like my heart was in my throat, but my limbs were throbbing with get-go! So, I slowed way down to get my HR under control and crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t have a GU-induced heart attack!

With my HR under control, I was pumped when I crossed mile 7 at exactly 1:00:00. I was more than halfway done and I knew I could finish in under 2:00:00 despite all the mishaps to that point. And then I just locked into my stride and focused on finishing strong.

We wound through all of the Akron neighborhoods I’ve never visited and were serenaded by more bands than I could count (several marching bands, a steel drum group, a country band), and somehow I stayed relatively focused. After all, it’s not like I was on my bike! But as we made our way up and down hills, and the area became increasingly urban, I knew were getting closer to the finish!

It was only when the half marathon split off from the rest of the pack at mile 11 that I had some down-on-myself time. We were running up a never-ending incline along a freeway when my energy bottomed out. I guess the GU high spiked too soon! My mind was torn between my excited “I only have two more miles left in a half marathon!” side and my downtrodden “how did I end up running in the berm of the MLK freeway?” side. I was surprised that no one passed me at this point in the race… so maybe we were all feeling the same way!

At 1:45:47 I crossed mile 12 and thought, “Fifteen minutes? I can totally run 1.1 miles in less than fifteen minutes!” I started hoofing along and cheered on a few people who were obviously sputtering out. And then I started looking (desperately) for anything that looked like a ballpark.

While I live 10 miles from Akron, I’m rarely in the city and I’ve never seen Canal Park, which was the site of our finish. Signs on the side of the road bore inspirational sayings, including “See your destination.” But I couldn’t see it! Where was the godforsaken park?

After what seemed like five more miles, a guy on the side of the road cheered for us and yelled “two more right turns and you’re done!” So, I made one right turn… and only saw people running forever! And still nothing looked like a ballpark! Then I saw runners making another right turn and I started picking up my pace. I couldn’t quite hear the cheering that marks most race finish lines, but I could distantly recognize the voice of an announce. And was he announcing finish times?

I took the final right turn, chugged down a brick road hill and then crossed through a threshold… into the ballpark! There had to be thousands of people in the ballpark—and they were all cheering! I felt like a superstar! I crossed into the ballpark and saw the big finish arch 250 yards around the warning track. So, I kicked into super gear and sprinted toward the finish. And as I crossed the finish line at 1:54:10, I yelped with joy! I finished a half marathon! Woo hoo!

I collected my finisher’s medal and aluminum blanket (which I ditched early and then froze off my butt later), and then somehow found Melissa, Jeff and Vincent in the crowd of thousands! We took photos, complained about how badly I smelled and then took off for cupcakes.

A hazelnut cupcake was my celebration dessert of choice, but I took home a You-Must-Be-Chipping-Me cupcake, which is now in my freezer and waiting to be enjoyed. Main Street Cupcakes also has a most-delicious pumpkin spice cupcake right now, which Melissa was nice enough to let me try… and I was dopey enough not to get.

Unfortunately, I won’t be celebrating a 5K this Saturday with that pumpkin spice cupcake. I’ve been out of commission all week with the flu, and unless a super miracle of energy and healing happens between now and Saturday morning, I’ll have to sit this one out. I’m most bummed because it’s the Bowman Cup 5K at Kent State. It was supposed to be my first race ever—when I first tried running in 2006, I thought I would give Bowman a try, but I didn’t think I could run 3.1 miles!

How funny is that? What a difference a year makes! I guess there is always next year. Besides, my calf is still a little achy. It would probably appreciate the extra rest. And I guess the flu is the best way for my body to force me into some calf-healing time.

Now I have to figure out what’s next. I really enjoyed having a focused training plan—something that made sense and helped me work toward a specific goal. So, I’ll have to figure out what races are in my future. And, you know, which cupcakes are best for those celebrations!

1:54:10

There will be time for reflection later: I ran a half marathon!

The short story: I woke up early and slathered my leg in BioFreeze before heading to Akron and finding a parking spot within seconds (I thought you might have been worried). After jogging to the race area and hitting the bathroom, I slurped down a GU and got in position for the start. I wasn’t very strategic in my starting position, which I regretted when I got stuck in the jam behind the 9:00/mile pacer for the first 2+ miles.

My calf went from numb to dire to erased by adrenaline, but I finished my first half marathon in 1:54:10 (8:43/mile), which was good enough for 23/126 in my age group.

And the cupcake report: I had a hazelnut cupcake and took a “You must be chipping me” home. My running-stale stomach just wouldn’t have appreciated it the way such things should be loved.

But most importantly: thanks to Melissa, Jeff and Vincent for being my fan club and meeting me at the finish. It was the crowning moment of my race season to have you there. High fives to Stef, Dane and Ethan for hitting Main Street Cupcakes with us to celebrate. And a billion thanks to everyone who has given me words of encouragement and help over my whiney obstacles.

Ahh, running. It takes a village.

What a happy day! More on the race later…

Half Marathon: Here I Come!

Bloggers and friends are awesome. It’s been a down couple of days, but between comment-encouragement and an angel-hair-with-all-kinds-of-good-stuff lunch, I’m feeling all right.

And now my remaining anxiety is all about parking in downtown Akron. Sigh. There’s always something.

My plan: leave the house early tomorrow morning (I only live about 10 miles away, which as a lifelong Clevelander seems strange to me), find parking, stretch, warm-up, stretch and stay active. For all of my this-is-the-longest-I’ve-ever-raced events, I’ve burned up so much energy and water being nervous that I’m determined to distract myself and stay positive. Besides it’s only 13.1 miles. I can totally do that!

My goal: it all depends on the calf. Believe me, it’s not a cop out. But if I’ve feeling strong, I would be pleased with 8:30/mile (1:51:00). I know I’m capable of it without a bum calf. With a bum calf, however, I’ll aim for anything under 9:00/mile (1:58:00). And if I’m feeling flippin’ fantastic, the sky is the limit—that is, if the sky is 8:00/mile.

Last night I took another 3-mile brisk walk without even attempting to jog. My fingers are crossed that the extra-super rest will help. It’s been a very strange week—going from 31 miles in a week to… two. I think I’m literally itching to run. I jogged rapidly down the hall at work when I heard there was free food in the kitchen, but that was it.

My friend Jeff, however, has extolled the virtue of BioFreeze pain reliever gel (think BenGay but less stinky), which I know I’ve received samples and samples of in goody bags all summer long. I just hope I’ve kept some of them.

Finally, when I cross the finish tomorrow, my friend Melissa and I will head to Main Street Cupcake in Hudson for my celebratory treat. Good things come to those who wait… and run. If you’re feeling cupcakey, please join us!

For now I’m going to go join other marathoners/half-marathoners/relay-racers/10Kers in Akron for packet pick-up. All the best to Salty on her inevitably speedy leg of the relay and to everyone else running this weekend!

Runners' Lost and Found

Tuesday’s much-awaited easy 2-miler was run at an “easy” pace, but the run was anything but easy. Was it the heat? I hope. Perhaps it was just a bad day. Whatever it was, I struggled to keep up with 10:00/mile.

For the entire run I felt like I was on the verge breaking out of the lactic threshold. But my legs just lingered. After the first mile (when my legs, even my pained calf, are generally warmed), my legs just felt stiffer and stiffer with each stride. For a minute I thought that the past several months was all a dream. I wasn’t a runner after all. I hadn’t run 12 miles on Sunday. I didn’t have a summer of races under my belt.

But then I started being practical. These weren’t my legs! Sure, they’re the stubby, knee-scarred things I’m used to trotting on, but they weren’t my running legs. So, when I came home I made and posted the following sign all over Summit County:

OK, I didn’t actually post that sign. But I am desperately trying to figure what has happened. I’m also trying to calm myself down. We’ve all had bad running days, so I’m pinning my hopes on that notion. Just a bad day.

And Saturday will be a fantastic day. Whatever legs show up at the starting line.

Now I’m going to rest until Saturday, stretch and ice my calf, and eat my carbs. Mmm, gnocchi and grilled plums, here I come!

Flip flops and ice cubes

It’s finally here: my “taper” week (it’s a “taper” week because I don’t think my training is quite to the level—neither the highs nor the lows—to truly warrant being called a true taper… ahh, semantics)! Several weeks ago I was thinking that I wanted my taper week more than I wanted a vacation. And I’m not sorry.

But before I made it to this week, there was some hard running involved, such as my Saturday and Sunday runs. I’ve been adhering to my strict schedule of stretch-ice-stretch for my calf and I nixed all interval training last week. For once I was listening to my body. At least partially listening. And by Sunday I had incorporated pill-popping into the mix (OK, I took two anti-inflams and it was fab) and all was well.

On Saturday I completed a 6-mile round-the-neighborhood run. While it started with my slow-as-torture jog to warm up my calf (maybe 11-13:00/mile), the calf warmed up and the pain all but vanished after 2.5-3 miles. I had plenty of thoughts running through my brain—running and life related—that distracted me from the ouches, but then it actually dissipated. Mostly. I would get the occasional pang, tweak or yowzaas, but nothing stuck around too long.

After the first three miles, I thought about making up the intervals I skipped last Tuesday. Running guilt gets me every time! I had been thinking about that workout all week, and had hoped to finagle some intervals into my painful existence. Thankfully, I’ve actually learned something over the past several weeks about pushing myself too hard.

OK, I’m lying. I haven’t learned anything. It just hurt to run fast. Sigh.

But I was able to keep up a 9-9:30/mile pace for the last three miles without any discomfort. At least I can make the minimum pace, I thought.

Sunday, however, would be the true test.

Aside from seeing Skippy (whose prognosis has improved and whose skippiness peaked when he saw Neil “Dogman” B.) and spending quality family time, one of my favorite parts of spending a weekend in Euclid is running. If only I had known that during my 22 years there!

I woke up early Sunday morning and rounded the north-of-boulevard (NOB) blocks from East 219th Street to East 185th and back for a 12-mile roundtrip run. The only drawback: it was almost all flat. The largest grades were the wheelchair-accessible sidewalks and maybe a few dips in the road (in case you’re not familiar with the Akron Half route, it’s pretty bleepin’ hilly… to me).

On the bright side for this injured runner, there’s great novelty to finding a single roundtrip route that measures twelve miles in totally distance, but whose farthest point reaches only 1.5 miles from your mom’s house. I’ve had some distance anxiety the past several months, fearing that my knee, hip, back, ankle, body might give out when I’m dozens of miles from home. And while my calf was feeling OK yesterday, I had the reassurance that I should an injury trip me up, I could easily hop on one foot to safety. Either that or catch the bus.

This run started with my slow jog too, but the anti-inflams made it a cautious slow jog rather than a painful one. I trotted gingerly down one street before I grew more comfortable with my close-to-pain-free calf warming up. And after about ¾ -1 mile I was running at about 75-80 percent energy/flexibility/comfort.

My legs really loosened up after the second mile, so I picked up my pace to 9:30/mile and kept it there for the duration. It was a wholly uneventful run in itself, but it was entertaining to troll the old neighborhoods and check out some houses. Plus, it couldn’t have been a more glorious morning.

The only downside to a beautiful Sunday morning run was my rumbling belly. Everywhere I ran it smelled like someone was cooking something hearty and filling and warm. The open-house houses were baking apple pies, one church smelled like fried chicken and another like muffins.

About one hour into the run I was fighting off more drool than sweat, and I should admit now that this 12-mile run was supposed to be a 13-miler. Sigh. I admit it. I misjudged my distance (I was supposed to take another two streets past my mom’s street) and bolted up the driveway for some cream of wheat. Mmm. But I’ve totally convinced myself by now that my body needed the extra rest and the extra yums.

I didn’t have much downtime when I arrived, however: I showered and suited up for the Indians game. Twelve miles and the AL Central clincher? Doesn’t get better. Well, it could. But we don’t need to talk about the Browns.

And now I can rest. It’s two easy miles on Tuesday and likewise on Thursday. I’m looking forward to some stretch-ice-stretch-ice-eat action this week. I’ve even taken to wearing flip flops and all flat shoes this week to keep the stress off my lower legs. My calf claims that it will be ready for Saturday’s race. And my fingers are crossed.

Stretch, Ice, Rest

Man, am I pooped and achy! But after two days of feet-up with icy rest, I was able to hit the pavement today to run 9+ miles. I made it home early from work, so I dressed for running and then stretched, stretched, stretched. It wasn’t comfortable (again) to run at first, so I started to super-walk again. About a quarter mile later, I upgrade to an unsuper jog, which eventually grew into a slow jog. And by the end of the first mile I was running. Just gently.

Today was a deal run: I made a deal with myself that if my calf hurt and anything felt wrong I would stop. Sure, it felt wrong at first, but it warmed quickly and felt fine just in time for me not defy myself.

My first 3-mile lap around the neighborhood was 10:30-11:00/mile. I was being some aware and conscious of my gentle stride that I really lost track of myself for the first 20 minutes. With each left-step I wondered, ‘will this one hurt?’ and then ‘how about this one?’ I would feel the occasion tweak that would last 10-20 yards, but most of my discomfort subsided before it became a hindrance.

Lap two was steady and less deliberate, and I admittedly skipped my interval training for the day. I just ran the nine miles straight. In honor of those tempos, however, I did pick up the pace for miles 4-9 to about 9:15-9:45/mile. Again, the most painful part of running was the anticipation of pain. Step off the curb—is it hurt? Jump up on the sidewalk—am I OK?

The best distraction was my local UPS driver completing his early evening route. He follows the same path I run around 6 p.m., and we passed each other back and forth for a full three miles. So, if nothing else, I moved as quickly as a UPS truck… with stops.

On my final lap, I picked up the pace again… but not much faster than 9:30/mile. I started thinking about the half marathon and how slow I would have to run if my injury surfaced in the middle of the race. The Akron Half Web site indicates that runners must maintain a minimum pace of 13:40/mile. And by the time I finished multiplying 13:40 x 13.1 I was almost done with my last stretch! My right foot was getting achy again (as it did on Sunday), but only in a complaining could-you-please-stop-beating-me kind of way.

Not surprisingly, I’m totally beat. We taught workshops all day today (I did a cool one about podcasting and then some not-so-thrilling stuff), so I’m spent mentally and physically. But I have to admit it’s a good feeling. So many people come home from work too beat and downtrodden to even get a run. I’m grateful I can run. I wish I could tell my running-hater self from five years ago what I was missing all those years!

Now my nap-loving self is taking over…

Blogger Triathlon: Race, Off-season and Injury Reports

First: Saturday’s race. We made it to Portage Lakes by 8 a.m., and that’s when the madness began.

As previously mentioned, I’m writing a feature story about Fran, a 59-year-old retired teacher who raced her first tri on Saturday, so I had to put my bike together, check in, find safety pins, set up my transition area and then catch up with Fran and friends for pre-race talks. All in a bulky swimming parka and flip flops.

You would know even if you looked outside on Saturday morning that it was cold. Neil and I guffawed as we drove past a highway-side car dealer on OH-8 whose lighted sign read 50 DEGREES. Not bad, I thought. It could be colder. In winter.

Amid the cold and rush for non-existent safety pins (they ran out right before I arrived; I had to tie my bib to my shorts and begrudge myself for not taking advice and getting a racing belt!), I never made it into the water for my planned warm-up. But I did make it into the 72-degree water for a quick wade. I was relieved to feel the water was warmer than the air. Until I stepped out.

As I walked down the beach to the start, my toes started to burn with cold. Flocks of tri-ready women waddled down the beach wondering what they were doing on the beach in this weather. And all I wanted to do was get back in that warm water… which explains why I was far and away the first body in the water!

It was only my second triathlon, but I think I can dig these in-the-water starts. No swift kicks to the face, no slaps to the jugular, no punches in the back. The only downside was that I had to tread water for 5-7 minutes before the start while most everyone else could stand (they said it was “chest-deep water,” but they apparently weren’t measuring it for a five-footer).

As I treaded water, I saw the 2006 open water champion and tried to position myself behind her. She would be my guide. The starter explained the water course a number of times, but the 29 and under age group was a sea of chatter and “whats?” Despite the constant repetition of the directive “swim toward Adam; he’s the one waving,” I had a hard time deciphering my path. I could see Adam, but there were buoys and kayak between us.

But I didn’t have time to worry because we were off before I knew it. The 2006 champ propelled ahead of the crowd immediately and bolted way toward shore. I stayed right with her (albeit not so close to shore) for the first 100 yards, spotting with her yellow cap, before she pulled ahead and I lost my course orientation.

Breathing on all sides, I could see shore to the left, champ and kayaks up ahead and nothing on my right. I was doing all right. A yellow lane-marker confused the bejesus out of me, but once I caught sight of champ’s yellow cap again, I could see the shape of our entry to shore. I took the final turn and begrudgingly got out of the water.

Swim time: 4:25

So, I ran around the beach in my frozen delirium trying to make it up the hill to the transition area. It was quite a trek! And when I arrived, the champ and I were the only people in sight. It was a rush to know I finished second, but I was terrified to jump on my bike and be one of the first on the course. Why? I have no idea. So, I took a tad longer to wash my feet and get myself together—long enough for 2-3 people to mount and ride. Then I took off.

T1: 2:25

What I didn’t do during that extra time in transition was grab my sweatshirt! My summer of muggy days had me convinced that I would warm up on my bike, but it never happened. I was frozen from the get-go. Two miles into the ride I was wheezing with freeze-burning lungs, my throat was soar and I was too cold to drink my Gatorade. My fingers were numb and my knees were turning funny colors. Finally, I started getting really dizzy and rode into the grass a couple times before I realized things weren’t going well and I still had 3-4 miles to ride! I stood up on my bike and just tried to pedal hard, stay afloat, do anything to overexert myself and get some body heat boiling. Oh, how I longed for my sweatshirt! Lucky for me it was only a 7-mile ride.

Bike time: 33:57

All I wanted when I entered T2 was to jump in the water again. Instead I swigged a touch of cold Gatorade that made my chest burn, bundled up, pulled back my hair and took to the road.

T2: 1:21

But not until I twisted my ankle. The left calf was acting up only slightly during the race, but my inability to follow arrows and waving hands was running on all cylinders. What’s been with me the past two weeks? When I took the turn into my 2-mile run, I misstepped, rolled my ankle and used colorful language to, umm, express my pain. Sorry kids!

My legs were already warmed and beginning to recover by the time I hit the first aid station, but I was parched. I grabbed a cup of water from the first aid station, but couldn’t take it down through my swollen throat. Of course my mind flooded with dehydration fears, but it was only two miles. And that’s what I kept telling myself.

After just a half mile my legs were totally ready to run. Perhaps I had been a touch distracted by my treacherous inability to ride a bike, but my head cleared when I realized I was again running the final leg of a triathlon. Ahh, I hope that novelty never leaves me!

I was operating at about 75 percent with a parchy throat and wheezy lungs, but I focused on stretching my legs and enjoying the run. But not too much. I’ve never really run a cross-country type course, but this was more like an obstacle course. Divots, sink holes and tree roots galore. Thankfully, the race organizers did a fantastic job spray-painting each of the obstructions and accidents-waiting-to-happen bright orange! My peripheral vision was enough to keep me on the up-and-up as I weaved in and out of runners on my way to the finish.

Run time: 17:16 (8:38/mile)

No confusion about the finish for this race. I ran right through to the finish with a final time of 59:24.

If you check the results, you can see that the women’s triathlon had quite the crowd. Fran and her friends finished with flying colors. It was an awesome event. And I stuffed my face with PB+J until peanut butter actually oozed from my pores. Yummy.

My only problems are a) the place results have changed since they were first posted on Monday; and b) there are 29 & under age groupers listed with faster swimming times than they could have had. Not only were they not on the beach or in the transition area by the time the champ and I made it, but the spectators and race coordinators noted we were first and second. Odd. But perhaps they started late? I have no idea. I’m just happy that my times look right and met my goals.

What’s next? Well, I dismantled my bike and tucked it away in the garage for the winter. I’m going to keep my eyes open for some secondhand tri-bikes and train in the off season. Neil and my mom might be happy if I actually know how to ride a bike next summer!

I also have to decide very soon on my rec. center membership (it ended last Friday) and make sure this swimming off-week doesn’t become something bigger.

And then there’s the Akron Half Marathon on Sept. 29.

Half training half continued today: my left calf isn’t doing well. I tried to test my idiot IQ by jogging on it for about 100 yards before my brain kicked in. I took my workout down to a 14:00/mile fast-walk that was pain free over four miles.

Today’s “workout” will replace Saturday’s 5-6 miles, and then I’ll push my tempos to Thursday and Saturday. For now I’m icing, resting and yogaing in the hope I can make it another week and a half.

Waiting Games

It’s been such a bummer the past couple of days: I’ve been sitting with the same three windows open on my computer (www.trifind.com, www.hfpracing.com, www.runohio.com) and hitting refresh, refresh, refresh ever 30 seconds. I’m waiting for Saturday’s results!

But I did take a break from that excitement to run on Sunday—my first 10+ miler since June 17!

The run started off shaky. While my legs were a little tired on Saturday evening, they felt fine by morning. My left calf was a different story.

After stretching and a snack, I headed outside. It was a little bit crisp, but I was bundled in pants, a t-shirt and a hoodie… and toting plenty of tissue. I’m still getting used to the cooler weather—I’ve never run in fall—and wondering how on earth I ran in -10 degrees last winter! Neil was right. I must have been nuts.

There was plenty of take the sweatshirt off, put it back on, take it off, put it on, which all served as little distraction for my calf. My first two steps were utter agony. On most other days, I would have just turned around and spent the morning doing yoga, but Sunday was my big mileage day. And I wasn’t going to make it up later!

But I wasn’t going to be an idiot about it either. So, I started walking. Walking was fine. Then I started walking faster. And that was fine. I jogged a little bit. Agony. Ugh. I slowed back to a speedy walk and then tried to jog r-e-a-l-l-y slowly. It hurt, but didn’t make me want to cry.

What did make me want to cry was the idea of being hurt again. I started getting misty at the thought of putting in all this training time only to miss the half marathon in two weeks. I pressed on.

After about ten minutes of uber slow shuffling, I picked up the pace just a bit (maybe a second/mile faster!) and then a little after that. Each pickups made it a little uncomfortable to run at first, but then my calf would warm to it. By about mile four, I was fully warmed and at 75% of my normal training stride.

Before I hit the streets, I had mapped out my run from my apartment in Stow to just outside of downtown Hudson. It’s a different route than I’m used to running (I generally just drive to shop Heinen’s or buy cupcakes… it’s difficult to run with grocery bags), and it’s filled with all of the varying terrain, grades and hills I need. I picked out a street called Thirty Acres as my turnaround, never saw the thing and ran well beyond my mark. Lucky for me, I was feeling peachy at this point, hit Hudson and then started back.

Back uphill, that is. But I actually felt strong running down OH-91 and for the first time felt capable of running a half marathon in less than two weeks. Aside from some slight discomfort lingering in my calf, some right-foot cramping and a little bit sciatic flare-up, I felt healthy and prepared trucking the last five miles home.

My total run: 11.35 miles in about two hours. The first 4-5 miles were record-breakingly slow, so I won’t take this training run as a reflection of my future. I’m just happy to feel healthy.

My sciatic nerve, however, is threatening to be a pain again. It’s been pretty quiet for the past two months, but it’s been hinting at a comeback the past two days. I’m beginning to feel that strain in my left leg that preceded it last time. So, I’m trying to be quick about taking anti-inflams and getting my yoga in gear. I refuse to be tackled by that thing again! Good thing today is another rest day.

While I was running (and quietly sobbing), I reminded myself that this week is my last of higher-mileage/hardworking training before the half. I have about 32+ miles to run this week before having a bit of tapering next week (easy 2 miles on each of Tuesday and Thursday). I’m not going to lie: I’m really looking forward to it. And I guess I’m pretty pumped for the race as well. I just have to stay healthy!

Weekend Update: 26 Miles Down for Week 2 Half Training

After work on Friday I picked up my car from the shop and headed to Heinen’s to buy a shut-in’s worth of produce, including Italian plums, strawberries and a boatload of super juicy peaches.

Aside from my recent focus on my diet, the trip has little to do with my training, but I didn’t want to start off on a bummer note about not being able to swim on Friday. New-but-old car duties call. But at least now I have a safe ball joint… and some day I might understand what that means.

Friday did, however, serve as a pleasant and much needed day of rest. It’s been a high-intensity couple of weeks on all fronts. Plus classes start on Monday! Neil and I took a slow, pleasant walk on Friday evening, but the rest of the day was all about kicking my feet up and letting my legs rest.

Saturday, on the other hand, was all about straight shooting. I woke up at 7:30 a.m. and headed right out the door for my 4-mile run. I’ve been sticking to my neighborhood and the community across the street lately because it offers some variation of terrain—plus I know my distances at most points. Saturday morning was a great time to run and an even better contrast to the hellish conditions from Thursday evening (I can just feel that slick humidity sheen forming on my skin just thinking about it).

The only problem was a couple of tired legs and still-tight calf muscles. When I first kicked off from my front door, I felt the tightness and took a few more minutes to stretch, but they really only started to feel better once they were warmed. Right around 3.5 miles!

It was a mid-range training run, which I took around 9:00/mile. Then I came inside, took a shower, did some light weight training, ate breakfast, dressed myself up for a party and then headed to my friend’s wedding in North Canton. My friends and I danced for a couple hours (I’m all about the sprinkler, lawn-mower, q-tip, and that dance Olive does at the end of Little Miss Sunshine), which I think made for some bonus aerobic training. And laughing that hard is better for abs than any crunches I can do.

We visited friends after the wedding. While Neil and his buddies watched the Browns, I chatted with my tri-friend Fran, who will be racing her first triathlon at the Akron Women’s Triathlon on Sept. 15. It was a blast to share my first experience stories, as well as the things I wish I had known or considered before my first race (i.e., bring extra shoes for after your transition area is set up, have a pan of water available to quickly clean the sand off your feet, getting kicked in the face doesn’t really hurt too much).

My sleepy head didn’t hit my pillow until 1 a.m., so waking up this morning wasn’t as pleasant as most days. On the bright side, I have noticed a sleep pattern over the past several months: if I go to bed at midnight or later, I will wake up groggy regardless of how many hours I have slept.

Does that sound silly? If I get to sleep within or before the 11 p.m. hour, I can wake up and feel refreshed at almost any reasonable morning time (say, 5 a.m. or later). But if I get the same number of sleep hours after getting to bed later, it just feels all wrong. Sigh. I suppose I’m not a college student anymore.

Today was no different. I woke up at 8:30 a.m. and then snoozed until 9:30 a.m., which is oftentimes almost the middle of my day! I ate some breakfast and lugged around. By 11 a.m. I was thinking there was no way I would get any running done. So, I did some weight training, thesis reading, Indians baseball watching and napping until 6 p.m. rolled around.

Fortunately for me, my laziness annoys me. I felt irritated by sitting around all day, so I grabbed a few bites of a Think Thin Crunchy Peanut Butter bar (it was yum!) and headed out for an undecided distance.

My training plan called for 8 miles today—the conclusion to a 26-mile second week of my half marathon training—which I didn’t think I could complete. But when I stepped out into the lovely day, I was hooked. It was sunny and breezy with light air and temps in the lower 70s. Ahh. Plus, our neighborhood Ninja Warrior was practicing his nunchucks in a nearby parking lot… and what’s cooler than that?

My warm-up was laid back at 10:00/mile for the opening two miles of the run with one stop to stretch these tight calf muscles. I felt a little looser by mile three and ran miles 3-6 around 9:30/mile. My pace was a bit off today, but more so from my daylong lethargy than the fatigue I felt on Thursday. Or perhaps I’m still recovering from that fiasco!

I briefly spoke to Ninja Warrior as I circled the mostly empty parking lot that is his training space. He has a shaved head, an Eastern European accent and the cheerful demeanor that you wouldn’t expect from a Romanian Ninja Warrior. He mentioned that he would like to add some running and endurance training to his regiment soon, so I invited him to run with me around the neighborhood whenever he was ready. But now I’m wondering whether he’ll be carrying the nunchucks as he runs. I just don’t think our sidewalks are wide enough for that type of action.

As I finished mile six, I was finally feeling warmed up, loose and ready to take off. It’s been a while since I had that refreshed-after-several-miles feeling. Since mid-June, to be exact. In fact, today’s 8.25-mile run was the farthest I’ve run since I stumbled over my sciatica. I’ve missed reaching that threshold at which your body kind of forgets what it’s like to not be running, so your breathing, pace and effort just feel normal (credit to Landon for that description).

So, I stretched out the last couple miles at about 9:00 pace and carefully strode home. I took a cool shower and ate dinner… all with my fingers crossed that I could please stay healthy this time.

Fun With Interval Training

Running high-intensity intervals on Tuesday tickled me: it was a butt-kicking workout and I had good, hard-sweating time with it. Generally, I enjoy running for the challenge of overcoming something I spent most of my life firmly believing my big butt would never let me do.

Here I am now on a plan to run half marathon (to run it well) and enjoying my training. Hee hee.

And today that plan had me run the following 6 miles…

• 4 miles around semi-hilly/medium grades terrain at 9:00/mile
• 4 x 1:00 aerobic intervals (~ 1 mile)
• 8 gentle pickups (~ 1 mile)

To steal some Web content, Runner’s World describes gentle pickups (in case you had as much a clue as I did—a.k.a. none) as:

“Walking, then slowly increase your leg turnover on a flat stretch for 100 meters—up to the point where you start to breathe hard. Hold it there for 10 to 20 meters, then gradually slow down. Walk to full recovery before you start the next one.” –RW

This break down of six miles was far more intense than Tuesday’s workout. Of course it started with twice the miles and ended with some real speed, so it wasn’t unexpected. And I jogged home with about thrice the sweat and a smile.

According to the training plan, the aerobic intervals and gentle pickups “improve your stamina, leg speed, running efficiency, and […] make your normal pace feel more comfortable.”

Results obviously require repetition and training, but I can feel my stride improving just after a couple days. I’m sure it’s 50 percent mental. But again, I had been running flat-fronted for so long that these faster intervals are finally letting me stretch my legs (without leading to dangerous speed while building distance). Plus, they make my runs interesting again!

I do have to admit, however, that I was a tad rundown at the outset: I returned to my power vinyasa yoga session during lunch today. The one that checks my hubris. But as I’ve previously mentioned, it leaves me with the type of soreness that makes me feel more powerful than pained, and maybe just a little bit tired.

One of these days I will complete the 90-minute workout (I think I’m up to 45 minutes), and I will be the Yoga Master. Or I’ll just settle for a gold star.