One Month, Three Races, and Jay-Z

I ran six races last year and by August, I was feeling the burn out.  So, I decided to take it easy this year and register for four, including two I'd never run.  What I didn't realize at the time was that three of the four happened in a one month timespan. 

This year's winter was the hardest I'd been through in the years I've lived in Missoula.  It snowed every single day in February and there was an avalanche in town that took the life of a Missoula resident.  It was a difficult time.

By the time March rolled around, I had been hermiting indoors for weeks.  I nixed Run for the Luck of It that month because I knew I wouldn't run well and that it would just depress me.  Instead, I ran the YMCA Riverbank Run in mid-May.  I wasn't sick (like I was last year), so that was a plus.  I ran it faster than my fastest 5K last year, which meant things were moving in the right direction.

YMCA Riverbank Run 2014

One week later, I ran 11 Miles to Paradise and faced that whole getting lost in the woods issue I have.  I started (after four nervous pees and VERY reluctantly taking off my jacket) in the second wave of runners.  We ran the first mile on a fire road before making a sharp left onto the trail.  This is what I've been waiting for, I thought to myself.

Quinn's Hot Springs, home of 11 Miles to Paradise

The announcer told us before we started, "Stay on the trail.  If you step left, you'll fall down the mountain and into the river.  If you go right, you'll be scrambling up the mountain."  Solid advice.

I ran that race for the enjoyment of it.  I had embarrassing thoughts about bounding around the forest like a deer and being one with nature.  I'd never run a race so happy.  I hiked up steep inclines and hopped over rocks, listened to the river below me and the sound of my own breathing.  It was a kind of solitude I'd never felt in a road race.

And then I heard it...

"We doin', big pimpin', we spendin' G's
Check 'em out now, big pimpin', on B L A D's"

Another racer's motivational music.  Solitude is overrated anyway.

The last turn in the race was under water because of flooding, so I scrambled over and around some rocks to get to the finish line.

I knew, right then and there, that I'd be running this race again.  Jay-Z or no Jay-Z.

11 Miles to Paradise 2014

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Next up is the race that made me want to run trail races, the Pengelly Single Dip. 

Conservative Runs and Coughing Up Lungs

A couple weeks ago, I was getting ready for something and noticed (if I squinted with both eyes and the lights were dim, maybe I took out one contact) that my body was starting to show real results from training.  Maybe.  I think.  Regardless, with a race coming up, it felt pretty good.

The YMCA Riverbank Run was my second race of the year and I was hoping to see some seconds/minutes shaved from my 5K time.  I have a terrible time psyching myself out, so the week before the race I never uttered the phrase "PR."  I thought it a lot though.

A few days before the race, I caught a cold.  I'm not one to take so much as an aspirin, but this time I bought the pharmacy.  Zicam, Mucinex, multi-vitamins, it's all in my cupboard now.  I took Advil when I spiked a temperature.  I drank water and tried to eat regular meals even though I had no appetite and couldn't taste anything.  I took two days off from work and running.  I felt atrophied.

The race was a Saturday morning and by Wednesday, I felt enough cabin fever to pull off a slightly disastrous four miler.  Thursday, I did a little better at two miles and on Friday, I tried four miles again.

The problem was the breathing.  I couldn't really do it.  My chest was congested, my nose was stuffy, and I was wheezing by a mile out.  On Friday, I took my last Zicam, went to bed early, and hoped for the best.

Pre-race tree pose

The 5K course for the Riverbank Run is probably my favorite of all Missoula races.  It starts downtown and curves through the University of Montana campus, passing through the U neighborhood on the way.  It makes a sharp turn onto the Kim Williams trail and then is a straightaway to the end.

And they're off!

The first mile went great.  It was a beautiful morning, all the runners were chatting and laughing, and there was a guy ringing a giant cowbell about half a mile in.  Partway through the second mile, my stuffy nose caught up with me and I had trouble catching my breath.  It slowed me down pretty significantly.

Huffing and puffing

No, it wasn't my best race, but I had a good time.  Sam and his mom were there cheering and having people cheer for you is one of the best feelings ever.

All the pretty

Lessons for next time:

• Add speed work.  I have a couple ideas how, Sam to help me with timing, and a track I can use.  I want to make a "need for speed" joke here, but that would be silly.  Right?
• Nothing beats a positive mindset.  
• And last, don't get sick.  Like ever again.  

My next 5K is in October where I'll still be chasing that elusive PR.  And next month is the Pengelly Double and Single Dip.  Bring on Mt. Sentinel!

  

Bad Days Make for Great Races

My best run was the 2012 Riverbank Run 5K.  It wasn't the best because I was in the zone, or had a good night's sleep the night before.

It was my best run for one reason - I was pissed the hell off. 

The first half of 2012 was full of ups and downs in my love life, and the week of the Riverbank Run was no different.  I was dating someone that I liked very much.  I wanted to be his girlfriend.  At the very least, I was hoping we were headed in that direction.*

*side note: Are these really the stages of dating for the new millennium: hooking up, casual dating, dating, and official-exclusive-dating?  It's exhausting.  And there are probably like, 27 stops in between that I don't even know about.

Anyway, we had the relationship talk.  During which, the guy I really wanted to be my boyfriend said this: "I can't say that I can be exclusive with you, what if I go out tomorrow and meet the love of my life?"

That propelled me to my current 5K PR.

A bad mood can't compete with a runner's high and a new PR.

It was cold and drizzly that day, which suited me fine.  There were hundreds of people in the race and I felt like I had road rage.

In retrospect, it's silly.  This guy was obviously not right for me.  But at the time I was hurt by the statement, so I took it out on the course.  And the rage-running worked.

I'm running this race again in a month.  This time, I'm hoping for better weather and a better mood.  And, just maybe, a happier PR.

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Thanks to MissZippy for this blog idea!  See her best run recap and many more at this link:

What's your recent #bestrun?

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