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!

For the Love of Running

Why I Love Running, a response to the Boston Marathon bombing:

1. The camaraderie.

I ran my first half marathon last year.  I was really nervous so I got to the shuttle buses early (about 4 a.m.) and took the first one out to the starting line.  A woman sat next to me on the bus and we chatted like we'd known each other forever.  She told me about other races she'd done and we discussed goal times and the best trails to run in Missoula.  We ended up hanging out until the race started and then she found me in the crowd of thousands afterward to congratulate me.  It meant, and still means, so much that she took the effort to find me.

The finish line at the Missoula Marathon/Half Marathon.

2. We get to talk non-stop about running to each other.

Who else but another runner (or an amazing friend that doesn't mind me talking about it all the time) will willingly hang out to talk about pace or form or how badass Shalane Flanagan or Anton Krupicka are?

3. Runner's legs.

Need I say more?

4. All the happy people.

Not to say that we're all sunny, positive people, but I've found some of the most upbeat people at the starting line at 6 o'clock in the morning.  I've seen racers help someone up when they've fallen; I once saw a man carry his wife across the finish line. 

5. All the neon.

Where else can I wear neon pink shoes and have no one give me a strange look?

6. The "Jurek Yell."

Scott Jurek spoke in Missoula to a near-capacity crowd this past winter.  He taught us the "Jurek Yell" and we called it to him on stage.  I got to meet him afterward and was a rambling idiot.  It was awesome.

Tongue-tied while Sam talks ACL injuries.

7. The race organizers.

More goes into planning a race than I may ever know or understand.  Organizers work with businesses and restaurants, the police, the city, the racers, hotels, the media, and countless other people to give everyone the best experience possible.  And most are volunteers.  My hat (or my running shoes?) goes off to those who give up time with their family, friends, and themselves to do this for us.  Thank you.

8. Anyone can be a runner.

It knows no race or ethnicity, creed, gender, orientation, or age limit.  We all own the sport.
.......
I guess mostly what I love is the people.  When the two bombs went off near the end of the Boston Marathon, spectators Carlos Arredondo, Joe Andruzzi, Allan Panter and others ran toward the chaos to help.  The first responders, who were only expecting to treat tired and injured runners, ended up saving lives.  Some of the runners finished the race and then donated blood.  Many residents of Boston are now offering their homes to those stranded.

Runners are a tribe, a community, and a family.  We came together in a time of intense crisis and we don't waver.  When the worst happened, I saw the best of people.

The Athletic Evolution of Ashley

I signed up for my first race of 2013, Run for the Luck of It, a very fun, very green, St. Patrick's Day 5K.  I like to use it as a base time because it coincides nicely with the beginning of my half marathon training.  I do another 5K in late April and I love seeing the seconds or minutes shaved off that base time as my training progresses.

Anyway, the first time I ever ran the St. Pat's race, I didn't run, I walked.  It took something like 45 minutes.  I ran the last 50'ish yards to make it look like I wasn't taking an early spring stroll through the course.

I wanted to be a runner, but I felt like an imposter.  I would go out and try a mile or two and I couldn't catch my breath, my legs were stiff and my sides cramped.  Other runners, better runners, blurred by in their tights and shirts from marathons they completed while I stood, hacking and coughing in heavy sweats.

My Wii Fit (I type this with no irony whatsoever) told me I was overweight in its high pitched little robot voice.  I'd sigh and think, yeah, I'm freaking aware of the situation.  I wasn't hugely overweight, but I was bigger than I'd ever been and unhappy.

 

That's me on the right with the glasses.  I was the funny, smart one.  I felt like the one the guys walked past to get to my beautiful best friends.

Run for the Luck of It 2011

Not long after the race I walked instead of ran, my life changed.  I started living alone for the first time in my life and I was lonely.  I'd lost friends to distance and the end of a long term relationship.

What I did have were an old pair of running shoes and slightly flooded running pants.  I had nothing to do, so I ran.  I mapped out a 3 mile loop and pushed myself through it.  It hurt, so the next day I did it again.

I started running two or three times a week at that distance.  It started to hurt less, or maybe it hurt the same but I started to like it.  I mapped out a 5 mile loop and started doing that too. 

In a small burst of body confidence, I bought running tights, a proper sports bra, and a running shirt.  But I didn't really care about my weight or how I looked in the new clothes.  In fact, that whole year I was weighed three times, twice by doctors and once by myself to make sure the doctors were right.

I started using terms like cross training and negative split times.  I did yoga in my apartment on Sunday mornings.  I started feeling strong.

Run for the Luck of It 2012, with Jim.  He's faster than everyone.

In 2012, I ran Run for the Luck of It in 28 minutes, 14 seconds. A month later, I ran another 5K in 27 minutes, 30 seconds, a PR for me.

I started hiking and running on trails when the weather was nice.  I kept a promise to myself and signed up for my first half marathon.  It made me nervous, terrified actually.  I started thinking those imposter thoughts again.  I didn't set any time goals, I just wanted to finish.  I set up a training schedule and stuck to it, mostly out of fear of what would happen if I didn't.

Hiking in Missoula, MT 2012.  Two months before my first half marathon.

My longs runs got longer.  One afternoon, I ran 10 miles in the pouring rain and it occurred to me - I'm a runner because I run.  People weren't looking at me and saying, hey, what are you doing out here with us?  The other runners were nice, most of them smiled and waved hello.  I realized there was a lot of camaraderie to be had in a sport that was solitary by nature.

We runners are a strange bunch.  Unless we're one of the select few with major sponsors, we actually pay to do this.  We pay for the shoes and the races, the watches and sometimes, the trips to the physical therapist.

I don't know about everyone else, but I run because I have to.  I've learned more about myself by running than I have by doing anything else.  I learned that pushing forward starts with your mind, I learned to like the pain, to breathe.  I learned that bad days can be erased by great runs.  I learned that the silence on a good trail has a feel.  I learned what the words "dig deep" really mean and that this, this small part of my life so far, matters because it matters to me.

Missoula Marathon/Half Marathon 2012

Goodbye, Old Friends

I ran my first race in Converse sneakers.  It was the La Jolla Shores 5k in 2002 and all I really remember was that it was gorgeous and there was free food at the end.  I ran it again the next year in a pair of Nike's that I'd already owned for several years and just replaced less than a week ago.

Seriously though, I need a moment of silence for these shoes.  I had 13 good years in them (and way over the maximum 500 miles experts recommend before replacement).

The first time I went out in them, after a long hiatus from running, I could barely do a mile before feeling like I was really and truly going to die.  I ran because I was living alone for the first time and a little lonely and hey, I still have these?!  It became a daily thing that very quickly, I couldn't live without.  I had no money, few friends, but I had my running shoes.

And then I entered a race.  And then another one.  And then I registered for the Missoula Half Marathon.  My old Nike's got me through 400 miles of training and didn't miss a beat.

I'm planning on eight or nine races in 2013 (two of which are half marathons) so I decided, finally, to retire my shoes.  I bought new ones a few days ago at The Runner's Edge (seriously, if you're in Missoula - go there).  I took them on an inaugural run and I love them.  Also, they're already dirty, which is good.  If they're going to be my shoes, they have to be tough.  Just ask the Nike's.

Run for the Luck of It 2012 in Missoula, MT