For My Valentine

When you do a lot of races, it's sometimes easy to forget the people around you that are always at the finish line.  They put up with our pre-race anxiety, they listen to us talk about injuries and nutrition, they wake up early with us, and they always cheer us on.  So, this is for Sam who has always been at the start and finish line for me.

It was 4 a.m. the morning of the Big Sur Half Marathon and I was having a small panic attack because I couldn't find Band-Aids anywhere.  Instead of saying something like "that sucks," Sam went out in the pre-dawn coldness and found a place that was open and sold them because they didn't have the right kind at the hotel front desk.

Big Sur Half Marathon

A few minutes before the Pengelly Single Dip, I realized I'd forgotten to put my timing chip on my shoe.  Sam knelt down and fixed it for me, and then again when I didn't think it was right, and then again when I was still afraid it would fall off.

Pengelly Single Dip

After the Run for the Luck of It last year, I was bummed over a disappointing finish time.  Sam took me on a hike and got my mind off it.  He's driven back to race finish areas when I've forgotten to print off my results, and peanut buttered countless bagels.  He's gone to all the expos, events, and film festivals.  He's pinned on my bib, fixed my timing chip, and taken a metric you-know-what-ton of pictures.  And he's always there cheering at the finish, race after race. 

Thanks to Sam, my Valentine and biggest supporter.  Love you to the moon.

I Run Monterey Bay

Sam told me that the Big Sur Half Marathon might have to be an annual thing I do to give us an excuse to come back to Monterey.  I agree.

All the pretty.

We arrived the Friday prior to the race and went straight to In N' Out.  Carb loading, ya know?  Saturday, we walked around the expo and I picked up my bib and shirt.  We took a drive and learned a little secret about the Central Coast of California: it's most beautiful weather is during the fall.  Shh.

We were there in late July and while it was nice, it was definitely foggier and colder.  That Saturday was the kind of weather that makes you want to quit whatever thankless job you have and move there.

Anyway, that evening we stopped at the market for bagels, peanut butter, and juice.  I went to bed early and slept as well as I ever do before race day.

By 4 a.m. I was up and trying to figure out how to cut open my bagel with no knife.  Sam improvised with a stirring straw and our room key.  We would kick ass on Survivor.  Is that still on?

I got ready and we went down the street to the shuttle stop.  I met a nice woman named Maria and we chatted until it was time to get into our corrals.  I made one more pit stop at the porta-potties and then looked around.

"TWO MINUTES!"  The announcer said.

How do I get into my corral?  I thought.  I'd looked at the map of the starting area, but anyone that knows me knows I have the directional sense of a goldfish.  I couldn't see an entrance on my side so I raced to the end of the corrals and around to the other side.  Still no way in.  I got to my fenced off corral and asked a girl who said she didn't know.  Some helpful guy told me to jump the fence.  Because with my luck, I definitely would not fall and I most certainly would not hurt myself.

At this point, I was fully prepared to run along the outside of the fence and hop in at the last minute.  I jogged up to the front of my corral and asked a married couple how to get in.  The man told me to jump the fence.  I was debating the mechanics of that when the woman told me that the fences snap together.  "Here," she said, and unsnapped the fence.  Success!

My adrenaline was going and I was finally in my corral.  The announcer started our countdown and everyone started clapping.  My nerves evaporated.  Oh, that's right, I do this because I enjoy it!

Cannery Row, pre-race

Sam was at Cannery Row when I got there.  He took pictures and ran alongside me for a few yards.  A woman said we were cute.

For the first five miles, I felt great.  I saw the elites coming BACK when I wasn't even quite halfway.  We cheered for them and everyone around me was having a good time.

Somewhere around mile five, the sun came out.  Unfortunately, when I get hot, I wither.  I made it to the turn around, but enough time had passed that the sun was still in my face going the other way.  I ran by sheer will.

Look at the pretty ocean, don't be a baby, be grateful.  Look at all the people cheering!

I'm hot.  I'm hot.  I'm hot.

I had a blister on my left foot and a side stitch which I was able to mostly ignore.  Keep running, I thought, and you'll finish faster!  That was enough to keep me going.  After that, I didn't think of anything else except being done.  But I was supposed to enjoy the scenery, that was what everyone said.

I'll enjoy it later.  In a car.

I crossed the finish line and a little girl gave me a medal.  I couldn't remember what I'd been complaining about because it didn't matter anymore.

Sam was smiling and taking pictures at the finish line.  A photographer took our picture.  Since we were still separated by a fence, we agreed to meet on one of the piers after I went through the food tent and grabbed my things.

While I was waiting on the pier, a couple with their dog came up to me.  She asked me about the race and said that she was a marathoner.  She was funny and friendly and helped me to remember to enjoy the day. She asked me if I'd ever run that race before and I said no, but that it might become an annual destination race.

I learned a lot from this race for next time.  And there will be a next time!  One, there are uphills.  They were rolling, but I hadn't been prepared for that.  Second, bring sunglasses.  Third, enjoy it.  Monterey is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  Fourth, figure out how to enter a corral.

Last, I want to give a special thank you to all the organizers and volunteers.  This was one of the most well organized races I've ever done.  Thank you to everyone that made it happen!

Here are a few more pictures from the race:

Runners be crazy

The elites rounding the corner at Cannery Row.  The winner, Jacob Chemtai, is at the front in red.

Crossing the finish line.  Actual finish time: 2:34:21.

Me in a nutshell

Nerves and Cookies

I sent my boyfriend, Sam, a text that read, "I'm kind of sick to my stomach."  And then I thought, I should probably write about this.

On Sunday, I'll be running the Big Sur Half Marathon with a few thousand kindly strangers.  I hope they're kindly (note: please be nice to me, I'm really nervous).  Also, it's my first destination race.

Monterey, CA.

Luckily, the destination is my home state of California.  The out and back course begins in Monterey, near the wharf, and winds its way through Cannery Row, into Pacific Grove and Asilomar Beach.  It's oceanfront nearly the entire way.

Cannery Row in Monterey, CA.

Sam asked me why I felt sick.  I told him that I was nervous about the race and also two chocolate chip cookies I ate that may have been a bit suspect.  Pre-race jitters are familiar to me and many other runners, but I also don't like flying, crowds (especially of strangers), or most members of airport security.  Sorry about that last one, but it's true.  Anxiety, thy name is Ashley.

I'm in shape for it after running a half marathon in July and then maintaining that level of fitness.  It will be a beautiful course in a beautiful city.  It is forecast to be perfect running weather.  The flight, hotel, and rental car are booked.  But I still feel a vague, jittery sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The excitement won't come, I know from some experience, until I toe that line on Sunday morning.  The nerves change to adrenaline and excitement and we're off.  The race will be the payoff.

Until then, I'll be making list after list of everything I don't want to forget because it's my process.

Also, no more cookies.

Mercury and Mercury

For the first time ever, I have officially run through a pair of shoes.  My first blog post ever was about retiring some old Nikes for these, my highlighter pink running shoes that I called The New Girls.

Saucony ProGrid Guide 6, brand-spankin-new.

And a couple after shots:

Crossing a teeny bridge in Big Sur, CA this summer.

Big Sur, CA. Shoes are much dirtier, but no less spankin.

I went back to The Runner's Edge, since they were pretty awesome the first time I bought shoes there and decided to stick with the Saucony Guide 6.  I named the new ones Mercury, though I was informed each shoe should have its own name.  I can't think of anything that goes with Mercury though.

Three generations.

I trained for and ran five races, including a half marathon, in my pink shoes.  I can't get rid of them.  I've already made peace with the fact that my running shoes will one day take over my house.  It's cool, everyone knows runners be crazy.

The Race I Trained For

"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." 

- A.A. Milne

I started training for the Missoula Half Marathon in March.  I always use a spreadsheet when I'm training because I get a little obsessive and also, I like to cross off each day's workout with a different colored marker.  

Code that only partially makes sense.

The carb loading began about three days before the race, or if I'm being honest it started about ten years ago.  I got a good nights rest two days before the race and tried to sleep the night before.  Side note: Does anyone else have weird dreams the night before a big race?  I dreamed that I was in this huge crowd and the race was over; I didn't know my time or anything.  I'd run, but totally missed the experience.  Telling, no?

I woke up at 3 a.m. and made breakfast.  I can't even describe how much thought went into a bagel with peanut butter, an apple, and a smoothie.  Sam came over (he slept elsewhere because I live in a studio apartment and was going to bed at 7pm on a Saturday) and helped me with my chip and bib.

Sam drove me to the shuttle stop downtown and we said goodbye before I joined the several hundred runners already in line.  I chatted with a woman with princess stickers on her hat and saw the shortest pair of shorts I've ever seen on a man, even as a runner.

Heard on the shuttle: "Welcome to the south Missoula refugee camp."

Thirty minutes before the start I got in the giant line for the port-o-potties, peeled off my jacket, stretched, and had a gel.  Then it was time to line up.

We had a moment of silence to remember Boston, to remember why we run and who we run for.  

After another minute, we were off.

I started slow, but strong, and stayed that way.  I let the fast starters go ahead of me instead of trying to keep up with them and bonking later.  I kept a mostly straight line instead of weaving around people.  I listened to the pounding of feet, my own breathing, and the conversations (woman to her husband at mile one: "I can already tell I'm going to have to pee." Husband: "There's lots of trees off to your left, just go.")

It's all smiles when you're only six minutes in!

A short way past the mile three marker, I realized I'd run a 5K without slowing down.  At mile five, I had half a gel and had the same realization.  At mile nine, I had the last half of my gel.  It was the longest distance I'd ever run without having to slow to walk once.  In retrospect, it kind of made me think of that part in Forrest Gump where he talks about running and how he might as well keep on going.

I surprised myself.  This past year I've been wrapped up in my struggle for speed and I never stopped to think about strength.  Every mile marker I ran past surprised me.  How was I still running at this pace?  How have I not had to walk?  How have I kept going all this time?

It's a heady thing to know, not to believe but to actually know, that you are stronger than you think you are.  It made all the training, the injuries, the time spent alone on the trails at 6 a.m. worth it.  I worked damn hard and every minute of it was worth it.

Law enforcement running to commemorate a fallen officer.

I had a few little goals for this race: to run the second half faster than the first, to not have to stop to pee (I had to stop last year and it has irritated me to no end ever since), and to enjoy it.  I had no time goal; I just wanted to run strong.  I ran the second half of the race 9 seconds faster per mile than the first half and ran right by every single port-o-potty!

Ultimately, I ran 5 minutes slower than I did last year, but didn't care.  I loved the experience and knowing that I'm stronger than I was last year.

Goals accomplished and on to the Big Sur Half Marathon in November!

And now a few more pictures from marathon weekend:

Goodies from the expo.

Half marathon finishers flyin'.

Top men's finisher in the marathon, Jason Delaney.

Finishing strong.

Run like a girl!

Ticks and Training Updates

I'm officially registered for two half marathons this year, the Missoula Marathon/Half Marathon and the Big Sur Half Marathon (which I've been flirting with for months now).  The Big Sur half is in my home state of California, in a city I may very well be moving to in the next year.

Monterey, CA.  Oh, the pretty prettiness.

My next race is the YMCA Riverbank Run on May 11th.  I'm running the 5K and I don't want to say that I'm going for a PR, but I know I can run it faster than I ran Run For the Luck of It last month.

Since that race, my training has been going really well - nothing motivates quite like a couple of halfs in the pipeline.  I think (hope) I've rebounded at a good pace since my little (ahem: 5 month) training hiatus.  I did my first six mile run on Monday after work and, despite being tired and grouchy, I felt great afterward.  Because running does that.

My boyfriend, Sam, and I have also been hiking Waterworks Hill, Mt. Sentinel, and Mt. Jumbo (all Missoula based hiking trails) a couple of times a week and doing core work together.  Neither of us can stand to be indoors when the weather is nice; I think we're solar powered.

Hiking on Waterworks Hill

Anyway, what I didn't know was that spring is tick season.  Warning: having a tick fall out of your hair and onto your neck in the grocery store may cause nuclear meltdown.  Please take universal precautions.  Also, can humans use Frontline?  No?  What about Advantix?

I washed and combed through my hair like I was looking for lice (or greys), and then did the same to Sam (the combing, not the hair washing).  That night, nightmares about ticks on my pillow had me waking up every couple of hours to check.  Do I know how to make things into an event, or what?

Lesson: stay off Mt. Sentinel for the time being.  Also, don't use tick medication meant for your pets.