My Better Half Marathon

In attempt to build my endurance, I have decided it is again time to attempt difficult and/or high mileage runs back-to-back. My first taste of this kind of training was preparing for Hood to Coast last year. While I ran that well and felt proud of my overall performance, I realized after the race that endurance is my weak point. Increasing my overall endurance is going to be even more important in 2017 as I prepare for Ragnar Trail Rainier and Hood to Coast Washington this summer, so my goal over the next several months is to focus my energy on becoming a stronger runner with decreased recovery time in between long runs.

This weekend I decided it was time to step up my game and actively focus on achieving this goal, so I started Saturday with a 9+ mile hilly trail run around Lake Youngs with a couple of friends, then I woke up at a comical hour and watched the sunrise over Lake Washington before running the My Better Half Marathon at Seward Park on Sunday.

Lake Washington at Sunrise

My Better Half Marathon ended up being five loops of the park, which would have included some hills except our stormy weather knocked over several trees last week, so the course had to be modified just before the event. Running the same loop over and over was a bit monotonous, but Mount Rainier made her majestic appearance, so at least the views were spectacular for the entire race.

My apologies for the poor quality in the photo...
iPhones cameras struggle in dim lighting.

Of course, in light of the theme, I ran with my better half even though I did spend part of my time glancing over my shoulder to make sure he was keeping up with me. He hasn't been training as much as he should due to all his recent travel (and because he has been spending more time playing ice hockey than in his running shoes... but we're letting that slide because I don't want to be a nag... *cough*).

Looking a little haggard, but whatever. No shame.

Despite my long, hilly run the day before and James' lack of preparedness, we ran a strong 13.1 miles and finished with a decent time. We weren't out to set any records with this particular race; it was more about spending time with each other and our friends. Nevertheless, I was proud of our strong finish.

Finishers say, "CHEESE!"

Yes, we wore matching INKnBURN shirts, and I realize just how painfully cheesy (or shall I say... ridiculously spectacular!) we look with our gooey-lovey-dovey hug and smiles, but whatever. We love each other and the whole event is meant to be pretty cheesy, so we fit right in. By the way, the shirts have a hidden unicorn... do you see it? 

INKnBURN Men's ISO Shirt

Anyway, I know you're dying to hear my list of What I Learned this time around. Here you go.

1. Some of my friends are really grumpy in the morning (*cough* no names mentioned, but YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)... approach with coffee and do not make eye contact next time. And here I thought I was the grumpy one. 
2. I need to remember to use the foam roller on my calves and achilles after a trail run if I plan on running a PR the day after a long training run.
3. The trick I learned from Golden Harper regarding thinking of swinging my arms back instead of pushing them forward really keeps my posture upright when the fatigue tries to sneak in.
4. I learned from my last half marathon and didn't push the first few miles, which led to a strong pace even through mid-and-late race. 
5. Steamy, salty vegetable lentil soup is my favorite post-race snack ever. Must find a good recipe and make some to have ready after next race.
6. Not only is James not allowed to be the pacer, but he also runs into me and swipes me with his elbow if I allow him to get too close while running with him. Next time I'll just have to run with a taser and zap him with it if he gets too close.
7. Stashing warm clothing in the drop bag was a really smart idea. Note to self: do this every time.
8. Wearing matching shirts might be a little dorky, but it was actually really fun.
9. Running a race for fun at a conversational speed is very rewarding, and I still ran faster than expected.
10. I am a better runner and stronger than I think I am.

Side note... it is my Better Half's birthday today. Even though I give him a lot of heck about running into me when we're running a race together, he's still my favorite partner for just about everything in life (except for maybe a girl's night). 

Happy birthday, my sweetheart!
(Yeah... I know this is ultra mushy. Deal with it.)

Running the Tucson Half Marathon in Style

Last Thursday I did something I had never done before: I flew to another state to run a half marathon.

My family lives in Tucson, Arizona, so I suppose it's not too running-obsessive to have chosen to visit for the race. In fact, it's safe to say that I took the three-hour flight out there more because I wanted to see my parents, sister, brother, brother-in-law, and niece and nephew, and that I just happened to choose that particular weekend because I thought the event would be a nice bonus. My dad was actually the one who wanted me to run that race with him, so I'll just blame him for the travel.

Wow. Just listen to me trying to justify the fact that I flew to Arizona to run a race. I can stop anytime I want. Really. 

Obligatory bib and packet pickup photo op in my
Kimono Tech Top by INKnBURN (obviously).

I have to say that I was pretty impressed with the event. After running most of my races in the Seattle area, I felt that the Tucson Half Marathon was very well organized. Additionally, it was far more challenging than I expected because the course is primarily downhill for the first several miles, saving the "rolling" (read: long stretches of incline) hills for midway and during the last several miles. To top it off, the course finished with a few intense and fairly steep inclines at mile 11. 

The views were gorgeous for the first several miles. We started the race at 7:00 a.m. before the sun was up, and the temps were downright cold for the first half hour. But then, the sun rose over the mountains, and the views of a pink and blue sky with the mountains near the border in the far distance were breathtaking. Either that, or I was out of breath because I started at an 8:45 min/mile pace and held it for miles, which was just downright stupid for someone who usually runs longer races a minute per mile slower. 

I slowed down at the halfway point and managed a finishing time of 2:04:29, which was a 9:30 average pace. This was a personal record for me (or a "PR" in runner's terms), but I'm not going to lie... it was tough, and I nearly lost it on the last hill around mile 12. Luckily, I found a sweet lady running at the same speed around mile 9 and asked if she minded if I pace with her. She had flown in from California to also visit family and run the race, and we kept a small amount of chatter going through the tough last few miles that helped me push through to the end. 

When I finally reached the finish line, I was awarded both my PR and one of my favorite medals to date, which deserves some serious recognition because it is evident that the designers took a lot of pride in creating it. My dad crossed the finish line about five minutes after I did and was equally excited about the bling's craftsmanship.

Tucson Half Marathon Finisher's Medal

Bling with Stained Glass

As I have mentioned before, I love to spend some time reflecting on what I have learned after running a race, so here's my post-13.1 list from this time around:

1. The first six miles of the Tucson Half Marathon course is a LIE. Next time, I must start at a more reasonable pace to conserve my energy for those last painful several miles.
2. Trying to keep up with the 2:00 pacer is, sadly, not a reasonable speed for me yet. Patience, young grasshopper.
3. I need to focus on strengthening my hips. They both felt like they were tearing away from the sockets at mile 11. I think it was the stress on my muscles from all the downhill. 
4. Bringing an emergency blanket to wear while standing in the 20-minute porta-potty line would have been a good idea. A 70-degree December daytime high in Tucson is commonly paired with a 38-degree nighttime low. 
5. I need to train at higher elevations. I commonly run at or around sea level. This race started at about 3500 feet, and the nagging side aches I experienced for the first three miles probably could have been prevented had my body been used to the oxygen levels. 
6. Eating Mexican food (oh, the glorious Tucson Mexican food... be still my heart) would have been a really bad idea the day before the race. I'm awarding myself a gold star for practicing self control.
7. Running with an ingrown toenail sucks. Darn you, big toe. It sucks even more when I don't pack a pair of comfortable street shoes to wear after the race. But by all means, at least I had my fashionable ankle boots with a narrow toe box to wear with my skinny jeans. *Facepalm*
8. Asking to pace with a random, pleasant-looking stranger running the same speed at mile 9 was a great idea. 
9. Traveling to run a race is mildly insane but worth it. 
10. My colorful INKnBURN Crane Pullover and Dragon's Gate Capris was my top-complimented and favorite race outfit to date. Seriously, this comfy pullover was a godsend in the chilly temps, and a huge shout-out to the company for ensuring it arrived at my parents' house in time for the race after I contacted them inquiring about shipping times. 

Cheesy 2016 Tucson Half Marathon Finisher!

Half Marathon Survival Tactics

Yesterday I ran the half marathon that I was semi-dreading due to last week's unfortunate snotty sinus infection paired with ebola (or whatever landed in my stomach and tried to kill me). Despite my concerns and more-delicate-than-usual health condition, I finished strong in about 2:15, which is nowhere near my personal best but still much better than I expected. That time included a few-minute waiting period while my running buddy made a pit stop at a Honey Bucket around mile 11, during which I enjoyed the beautiful Lake Washington views and stretched a little while checking my Suunto watch impatiently. I suppose I could have trotted along without him, but the conversation was keeping my spirits high and I did not feel any pressure to finish in a hurry.

In addition to the decent finish time, I am most proud of how I ran the race. So now, whether you really care or not, here's my play-by-play of *drumroll*... how I survived running a half marathon while sick.

I couldn't sleep the night before, probably due to anticipation of oh my God how am I going to run after nearly dying this week. I bounced out of bed early after my date with insomnia and woke myself up with a quick warm shower to encourage my stuffed-up sinuses to have mercy on me. The temperature was predicted to be surprisingly decent for mid-November in the upper-40s/low-50s, but a large storm passing through promised rain. Last year I ran the same race in 28°F while slipping on ice and frosty fallen leaves, so this year's weather prediction was a massive improvement. I dressed in a pair of my favorite INKnBURN capris, short-sleeved tech top, and Gore Windstopper jacket.

Did I take this photo before or after running?
Only the smell will tell.

After shoveling a very small bowl of cereal down my throat (we were out of bananas, which is my go-to pre-run food), downing a shot of hot caffeine, and brushing my teeth, I rushed out the door about five minutes late. The race was being hosted by my running group, which is only a ten minute drive from my house that early in the day. My meager breakfast didn't cut it, so on my way over, I hastily ingested my favorite pre-running energy treat: Stroopwafel, which you must pronounce loudly with a comical accent as [Strōp]+[vä+fəl].

Stroopwafel! Strooooooopvahfeeel!
I never promised I was totally sane.

Somehow, I made it on time to check in, pin on my race bib, and use a flushing toilet before heading out to start the race with an easy 10:30 mile. Several of my Hood to Coast team members were there for a normal Sunday run, so I had the unexpected pleasure of pacing with three of them for the first several miles as the rain prediction turned into reality. My team captain was there to tease me in his German accent, "Okay Tamra... are you warmed up yet? When were you planning to pick up the pace?" It has been three months since I ran that amazing relay, and I still feel a gush of warm-and-fuzzies every time I see these people.

At mile five, the last of my H2C buddies turned, waved, and wished me luck. My running friend also going the full 13.1 and I were discussing various trail races and had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that we managed to very slowly increase. By the time we made it to the porta-potty at mile 11, we were running a comfortable 9:00 mile through the light but persistent rain. Nothing hurt, no aches and pains nagged me to run slower, and I managed to keep a conversation going through the rolling hills without too much heavy breathing or snot-blowing involved. We finished at the 2:15 mark at a speed of 7:53 min/mile according to my Suunto, and I was neither out of breath nor limping as I made my way to the bagels and apple pie. I am usually pretty spent after that kind of distance, so I was incredibly proud of myself for holding back and playing it safe. Additionally, this was my first consistent negative-split half marathon, which I consider a heck of an achievement. If you are unfamiliar with what "negative-splits" are (I was, so no shame in that), it basically means that each mile you run is faster than the previous mile.

Whenever I have race experience, I like to think about what I learned. Here's my list from yesterday:

1. Running a half marathon while sick may be incredibly stupid but is entirely doable.
2. My Ón shoes are still my favorite half-marathon kicks, even in the rain.
3. Walking the steep hill at mile 9 is an acceptable energy-saving strategy.
4. Waiting for your running buddy to take a dump mid-race makes for hilarous conversation.
5. Starting much slower than normal can equal consistent negative splits and plenty of energy at the end of the race.
6. I am never wearing that old sports bra for a long-distance run again. The chafing is unbearable. 
7. Running more than 13.1 miles is completely doable. I don't need to be afraid anymore. 
8. I am much stronger than I think I am.

Rain-Soaked Shoes by Ón
Shoe Pod Tracker by Suunto

Half-Marathon Prep Time

The idea of running a half marathon this weekend without racking up some weekday mileage scares me a little, so I decided to go for an easy three-mile run yesterday with my running group despite still not feeling 100%. Usually, I try to run that short of a distance at a sub-9:00 min/mile pace, but last night I kept the pace at something closer to a 10:30 min/mile. Although I was worried about doing too much too soon after being so ill, I actually felt energetic and strong during my run. A running buddy of mine kept an interesting conversation going, which was a good distraction as well.

During this last year, I have aimed to run a half marathon or similar distance about every other month. The most recent half I ran was in September, followed by a 15K trail race through Point Defiance Park in Tacoma, WA last month. I never thought I would enjoy running 10+ miles through rocky paths, mud, and intense hills, but the views make trail racing worth every rolled ankle and mud-ruined sock.

This stump seems to be having a volcanic
identity crisis.

View from Point Defiance

This weekend's half marathon is a very small, informal race, and I am planning to run it at an easy pace as prep for the Tucson Half Marathon in a few weeks. With any luck, maybe I will PR that race. Or maybe I won't. I'm not a very competitive runner; my goal is always to simply finish strong. Side note: I'm not sure when traveling to attend a race became a thing for me, but this is the second time this year that I have ventured out of Washington to take off at some starting line and hurl one foot in front of the other until I pass through the finish line.

Due to this darn sinus infection that has been going on for almost two weeks, I had to back off on my weekly mileage. This concerns me a little because I have found that keeping up with a decent number of miles in the few weeks leading up to a long race is essential for me to feel strong and avoid injury. I have not yet run two half marathons within three weeks of each other, so I hope that I will feel back to normal and can run a strong 13.1 miles in Tucson without feeling too fatigued.

In the meantime, a friend of mine is attempting to coerce me into running an ultra next year. She will be my running buddy for this weekend's half marathon, which is predicted to happen right in the middle of a cold torrential downpour. As much as I hate admitting this to myself, I'm intrigued and know that there's a good chance I'll be too high on adrenaline and endorphins to say no. If I decide to go for it, this blog is about to get a lot whinier. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll just prove to myself what a badass I am really capable of being.

A Rocky Running Journey

My relationship with running began as a child. My dad was and still is a runner, and the kitchen counter always held the latest versions of Runner's World and the Road Runner Sports catalog. I remember occasionally flipping through the pages of the magazine and feeling excited about the idea of running, but I never really had the opportunity to give it a try because 1) I lived in a miserably hot neighborhood without sidewalks full of old people and the occasional weirdo in southern Arizona; 2) I attended a small Catholic school without sufficient sports activities; and 3) my parents did not encourage me to run. I was also just dumb enough to think that kids did not have the option to be distance runners because I had never seen anyone my age actually running. 

Fast forward to high school when, for the first time in my academic career, I had the opportunity to attend public school. My naive, abnormal teenage self was shocked to learn that a couple of my drama class buddies, who all seemed like normal people, ran on this thing called cross country after school. I wasn't sure what cross country was, but it sounded really cool when one of the girls told me that she actually liked running and that the team ran for three or more miles every day. This news dumbfounded me. How on earth did a fourteen-year-old run more than, say, one or two laps around the track we used for PE classes?

I started eating lunch with humans who ran on the cross country team. They were fun people, high on endorphins, and their energy was contagious. For a short time, I dated one of the runners. He was my first boyfriend, and he crushed my pathetic little goody-goody heart one month later when he dumped me in between classes. I wasn't about to let that stop me, though. I wanted to be a runner.

Finally gathering enough nerve to put myself out there, I joined track the second semester of my sophomore year. Much to my dismay, I was awful. My running was sluggish and weak, I knew nothing about running or proper form, and my heart rate topped the charts at well over 200 beats per minute during practice on a regular basis. When I told the coach, he didn't believe me, so I didn't dare tell him that I was seeing black spots in front of my vision while I gasped for breath for fear I'd be kicked off the team. I attended a few track meets and ran the 800 meter race, taking dead last just about every time. 

That summer, I was determined to get better. I woke up at 4:00 a.m. to beat the sweltering Arizona summer heat and went for a few mile run regularly, but the training did not seem to help. Every time I ran, my lungs screamed and my chest felt like an elephant had taken residence on my ribcage, but I stubbornly keep going. I was so excited to finally be part of the cross country team my junior year only to discover that... well, I sucked. Finally, after that season, I gave up and resigned myself to understanding that I was not destined to be the runner that I felt was trapped deep inside of me. 

I learned I have a minor issue with tachycardia and heart palpitations in my mid-twenties, which accounted for the chest pain and breathing issues I experienced. Like many runners, I started out running too fast, not allowing my cardiovascular system or the rest of my body enough time to build the strength and endurance it needs to pump oxygen and utilize energy efficiently. 

Well over a decade later, my good neighbor friend and I had the conversation that I posted last week: 

A:    I want you to run a half marathon with me.

Me:  No. I hate running. 

A:    You should really run a half marathon with me. You would LOVE it.

Me:  In the event of a zombie apocalypse, I'd willingly be eaten first just so I don't have to run. 

A:    Please? It's not until June, so you have plenty of time to train.

Me:  Ugh... I'll think about it.

The inability to say no to a friend asking me to do something I really didn't want to do segued into the bizarre decision to keep doing this weird thing during which I step one foot in front of the other while pumping my arms back and forth at a cadence of around 170 steps per minute with the hope that eventually I'll be able to stay at 180 steps per minute one day... for fun. 

Once I made the decision to do the half marathon, I bought the cheapest treadmill I could find because I was too embarrassed to be seen attempting to move my lead feet in public. I followed a couch to half marathon plan and started with walk/jogging. The jogging was difficult for me, just a couple of minutes felt nearly impossible, but I kept with the training program. This time, I knew I had to start very slowly to avoid the chest pain. 

A couple weeks into the program, I ran a full mile without stopping. I remember feeling my face crack into a smile as I stared at my garage wall with my feet pounding the cheap treadmill tape. It had been an impossibly slow mile, but my heart rate did not exceed the safe zone, and I had actually done it. Another four months of avid training, and I finished my first half marathon. I was not fast and the last three or four miles were borderline agony, but I did it. 

The day after that half marathon, I learned the valuable lesson yet again that too much too soon is a really bad idea when I unsurprisingly suffered massive IT Band pain that left me hobbling for weeks. It pays to have a physical therapist as one of my closest friends. With her help and recommendations, I became best buds with a foam roller and lived to tell about it.

I began running again two months later. This time, I held off on running another half marathon until more than a year of consistent training had passed. During the course of that year, I joined a local running club, signed up for shorter distance races like 5Ks and 12Ks, added a little trail running to the mix, and eventually, got to where I am today. 

My most recent half marathon was a personal best by ten minutes. More importantly, though, I had a great time running with my husband and close physical therapist friend, and I managed to feel strong and healthy for the entire 13.1 miles. I love the picture below because for the first time, I look like a "real runner" during a race. I'm also smiling like some crazed lunatic. Seriously, who runs that kind of distance for fun?

Beat the Blerch Half Marathon - September 2016

Several miles after this photo was taken, I had a sweat stain in the shape of a smily face on my boobs and waist, and my friend said, "I'm not going to lie, I kind of hate you right now," as I powered forward and kept us on track with our 9:45 min/mile pace strong to the finish. 

I think she's forgiven me since.