Two weeks ago, I ran my best half marathon to date at the Hershey Half Marathon in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Two weeks ago. So, when it came to training for this half marathon I am running in Louisville this morning, it consisted of a few short, easy runs, and a 10 mile run last Sunday morning. And that was all the time I had.
The only reason I signed up for this half marathon was that it is literally in my backyard. One short drive over the river into Louisville, Kentucky and…there we are! I promised to treat it as a training run. A recovery run. I promised to take it easy.
And…I know that I will. I know I will because it’s freakin’ COLD out there. The Weather Channel claims that the temperature is currently 39°F outside, but feels like 37°F when you factor in the wind. Pardon me while I say…BRRRRR! Granted, I would rather run in cold weather than warm, despite not liking being cold. Even at little 5K races, I’m a wimp when the weather turns cold. I like a nice 55°-65°F temperature to run in. It’s ideal and perfect. But, after experiencing a half marathon in brutal heat and humidity, I’ll take cold. Even bitter cold.
So, this morning, I am taking to the streets in the Louisville Sports Commission Half Marathon. This is the second year that it has run. Last year, I was going to run it, but I just hadn’t prepared for it and honestly wasn’t ready. And when I saw the people at the mall walking around in the t-shirts with their finisher’s medals on…I was sad I hadn’t done it. I knew when they announced this one that it was only two weeks after Hershey, but I wanted to run it. No excuse. It’s right where I live.
My greatest source of nerves and concern, however, has not been with my training. I know I’ve trained for this. I’ve run three other half marathons this year and still have one more to go in December. Nope. It was with what I was going to wear. Before you get the wrong idea, let me explain. I have never, as a runner, had to run 13.1 miles in 30 degree temperatures. This is not be trying to be a fashionista runner and look as cute as possible at the start and finish. Nope. I just didn’t know if it was better to wear compression tights…or go with shorts and compression socks. I didn’t know if I should wear a jacket over my tech shirt, or just go with a cold weather tech shirt. This is all a guessing game with me. I went ahead and bought knit gloves I could wear at the start of the race and then simply discard them as I warm up. The fact of the matter is…this race isn’t going to get much warmer than the temperature when it starts. A couple degrees…and that’s it. And that was my biggest source of nerves this time around.
I’m not concerned with my time on this race. I’m not out to set a new PR (although it would be awesome…it won’t be happening). I just want to make sure I am prepared for the conditions. There is a chance we might see a bit of rain at the beginning of the race now. I didn’t prepare for that because the rain wasn’t supposed to hit until late afternoon. I’m hoping it stays north of Louisville.
So, yeah…as you can tell, I’m still a little worked up over it all…but I’ve settled on compression tights and a cold weather tech shirt. Gloves. And, of course, my BondiBand, which I can pull down over my ears to keep them warm. This morning, I am going to just go for a run. A really long, quite chilly run.
And when I’m done…I’m going to go get some food and some coffee…then come home and take a nice warm shower. Because, tonight…I am heading back to the site of the start of the race for a very different sort of event.
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN at the Yum! Center. I can’t wait for that either. Lots going on today…but now, I’m turning my focus to the race ahead of me…and just running it the best I can in whatever conditions await.
Me crossing the finish line of the Million Mutt March – Louisville, Kentucky
Race: Million Mutt March 5K
Place: Louisville, Kentucky
Date: October 27, 2012
Time:24:44
It had been a pretty intense week for me. After churning out my fastest half marathon not even a week earlier, getting in my training runs for next week’s half marathon, traveling, getting caught up on work, and having the weather go from 80 degrees one day to 43 degrees the next…I admit…I was tired.
I also admit that on Saturday morning, the thought of stepping out into the windy, cold morning to go run a race at Cherokee Park was not really thrilling me. I don’t dislike Cherokee Park. I train there a lot with my fun run group at my local running store. The hills make for a nice challenge and definitely help build strength in my legs. But I just wasn’t feeling it that morning. My legs were achy due to the sudden return of cold weather. My original plan to wear one of my running skirts changed before I walked out the door after a quick check of the weather. I know a lot of people who would still venture out in shorts to run. Normally I would too. But not with that wind. I was already cold just sitting around my apartment. So, before my roomie and I headed out, I changed into my capri pants, grabbed a Lärabar, and stepped out into the cold.
Like I said…it wouldn’t have been too bad save for that wind. That’s what made it cold.
We arrived in really good time at Cherokee Park and managed to find parking not too far from the pavilion where packet pick-up was happening. I ran in the Million Mutt March last year too, and one of the best parts of this race is the number of dogs that are brought out. You see, this race benefits our local no-kill animal shelter No Kill Louisville, and not only are adoptable pets brought out, but runners bring their dogs as well. Some dogs even run with their owners. The first dog across the finish line gets an award. It’s a fun race for a good cause. So when I saw I was going to be in town for it, despite the still travel/race weary legs, I had to sign up for it. I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.
Packet pick-up was a breeze. It had just opened up 15 minutes before I arrived and no one was there. Granted, there had been an option to pick up your race packet the previous night at the local Fleet Feet in Louisville, but I wasn’t going to make an extra trip into Louisville only to return the next morning. Not for this race. Packet pick-up at Cherokee Park is never difficult. Go to the pavilion, tell them your name, get race bib and t-shirt. Easy. And that was exactly how it ran. The only difficult part was that the lady at the packet pick-up had to reluctantly remove her mittens (yep…told you it was cold!) in order to flip through the race bibs to find mine.
I was handed my number (28!), asked what size t-shirt I wanted, and wished luck. I thanked them, grabbed four safety pins and went to find where Cathy was standing. I handed her my race bib and she went to pin it on me. This meant I had to unzip my hoodie and be a little chilly for a moment. So…I did.
Before you think I’m wimping out, I understand that I did run a half marathon where the temperature was 43 degrees and I was in short sleeves and a running skirt. But with the wind here,this 43 degrees felt like 37 degrees. And my rule is once it hits the 30s…I don’t do shorts. So, with that rule in play and the temperature feeling like it was in the 30s, I went with capris and my Soft Kitty (from Big Bang Theory) socks. Long sleeve tech shirt and my running jacket. Layers. Layers are my friend in this sort of weather.
I got my number pinned and immediately zipped my jacket back up. We walked my t-shirt back to the car and I debated on whether or not to wear my gloves. I decided, in the end, to skip them. Not sure that was the best choice, but…you know…
We still had about 40 minutes to go until the start of the race, so we ventured back toward where all the activity was. Vendors and pet adoption/rescue places were setting up booths for the event that followed the race. We made a quick circuit of the area, then returned to the little basketball court. I stood there, shivering, looking at the dogs that passed, giggling at some of the costumes they were wearing (some owners dressed up their pooches for the Doggie Costume Contest). I eventually devoured my Lärabar (Peanut Butter Cookie, in case you were wondering) about 30 minutes before the race was to begin. And then, I began to do a few stretches.
When it gets cold, I usually get lazy with the stretching. I don’t want to stand out in the wind and loosen up. I wand to fold my arms across my body and attempt to just stay warm. But that won’t help me in a race, especially with hills, if I pull a muscle. So…I half-assed some stretches, but at least I did it.
Soon, runners, walkers, and pooches were all making their way toward where the start and finish line of the Million Mutt March were set up. A woman wearing a t-shirt walked past declaring that today was her wedding day. I congratulated her and she said that her husband-to-be is afraid she’ll fall on her face and get hurt. We laughed a little at that. Then, I moved to find a spot, actually near the front of the pack for me, to get started. We were given instructions about the course…and then had to part from the start due to one of the shuttle buses arriving. Seriously. The bus went to the drop off point, some cars followed it through, and we got back into our spots and prepared for the start of the race. I hit play on my iPod, saw the small group ahead of me begin to move, and headed for the start. I hit the start button on my Garmin as I crossed the line and was off.
Somewhere in those first few steps at the start line, I made a decision. I run Cherokee Park quite often, so I figured, why not experiment a little with this race. Push a little harder. Yes…tired legs…I said push harder. I could at least try, yes? So, with that decision made, I made for a quick decent down the first hill to the point where it levels off. I tried to keep my hard pace. It wasn’t too difficult. I had an older lady running just slightly ahead of me in a yellow jacket. I used her for the first mile to help me keep my pace up. It was a trick I had read about in numerous books on running and one I was now going to employ. The course veered from the Scenic Loop and headed down one of the roads connected to the park. Mile 1 was now done and I was making good time. I didn’t check my watch, but I heard it beep. I know now…if I don’t focus on my time, I run a better race. Keeping that in mind…that’s how I chose to run this one.
We finally hit the turn around on the road and I looped around, now just behind the woman in the yellow jacket. This part of the course was flat, but I knew some of the worst hills in Cherokee Park were still ahead. My brain was telling me to slow down, my legs were screaming at me to slow down, but I didn’t listen. I had 2 miles to go, and this was a course I ran often and knew well. If anything, even on travel/run-weary legs, I could push this. I could.
As Cathy and I had driven into Cherokee Park, I knew that Mile 2 hit as we began the never-ending climb up what we call Dog Hill, so with that in mind, I went to go ahead and push a bit more, get past the woman in the yellow, and prepare to set my own pace going up that hill. It would be coming up in a few minutes. I went to pass, and she moved over to where I was running and cut me off. WTF?! I moved the other way, and she did it again. How aggravating and very unsportsmanlike.
Fine…if that was the game she was going to play, I’d pass her on the hill.
Or, that was my plan. As we started up Dog Hill, I once again moved to pass her, and she once again slid over in front of me making it impossible to do so. I thought about faking to the left and going right, but while that works in basketball, it doesn’t really work in running. I had heard about, even read about, these types of runners…but this was my first actual encounter with one…and I’ll be honest…she was really pissing me off!
I pushed even harder than usual on the hill now because I really wanted to get past her. But, every time she’d move in front of me and make it impossible. I finally just let her have the lead. No sense killing myself trying to pass when it obviously wasn’t going to happen. I was raging inside. I hit the top of Dog Hill, and now it was down before the last stretch of the race, uphill toward Hogan’s Fountain.
Usually this part of Cherokee Park I run on fresh legs, coming in from Eastern Blvd. from the running store. However, in the 5K runs held here, this is always the last stretch. So, I tried to run this as I would on fresh legs. I really dug deep here, wanting to just go all-out, even on hills, for this run. It was something I had wanted to do in the summer, but the extreme heat didn’t really allow me to throw caution to the wind and just push it at a race to see what I could do. Choosing to do that on a race with hills on tired legs…probably not the best way to go…but…well…the decision was made and I was now less than a mile out from the finish.
As I was nearing the crest of the hill at Hogan’s Fountain, another bus came through. Seriously. A bus. A lot of runners run with headphones in, and the guy and his dog just ahead of the bitch…er…the lady in the yellow jacket…didn’t even hear it coming. He could see the finish line and he was going for it. The director of the race was having a fit when that bus showed up. It even honked at the guy with the dog, but he just kept on trekking.
And while the woman in yellow was distracted by the bus, right there, right at the finish, I blew past her. FINALLY!! And wow…did I ever feel that run. I stopped my Garmin and turned off my music.
Cathy was there at the finish line, waving her hands as I went through. She came over to tell me I set a new PR, but either by a second or…by whatever my Garmin said. My Garmin said 6 seconds. So, only when official results posted would I know for sure. I held up a finger and walked away in an attempt to catch my breath. A table with bananas and water bottles was just up ahead, so I walked that way, taking deep breaths, and finally getting to a point where I could answer.
And the first thing I said was, “I have been trying for most of the race to pass that woman…and I just barely did it.” Yeah…don’t focus on the important thing there, star…bitch first. Oy. But…you know…I’m not normally the competitive type at these things, but the fact that she kept purposefully blocking my attempts to pass just set me off.
I took a drink of water (which I had to get Cathy to open as I couldn’t feel my fingers), and we walked around the little vendor/doggie adoption area. I bought another little race mascot, a little dalmatian in a No Kill Louisville shirt, which I named Frank N. Spot. And I nommed on my banana. We pet a few puppies, met some great dogs, were asked more than once to adopt a pet (if we could…we would), watched the Derby City Disc Dogs preform their frisbee tricks, and then were ready for the awards ceremony.
I knew that I had been the 5th woman across that finish line, so I figured I at least placed in my division somewhere. But as the names were read out for the 30-34 age division…I wasn’t called. I knew that couldn’t be right because the evil blocking woman was one of the grand master winners…so I had to have won something.
After all the awards were handed out, I checked with the race director. Lo and behold, my name had been on the page prior, as had three other people, and the awards were given to those who came in 5th-7th. Whoops. So, without any fanfare at all, I was handed my first place medal for the Million Mutt March age division and sent on my way. My roommate didn’t even take a picture immediately. I had to ask her too. Like I said…no fanfare. Kind of a disappointment for that kind of an error to happen…but these things do happen.
So, the official results of the Million Mutt March 5K are that I finished in 24:44 seconds, my new PR for a 5K race. Not bad for a hilly one, yes? I was 16/161 finishers overall. I was the 5/107 women to cross the finish line. And I was 1/19 in my age division. WOOHOO!!
I loved that I pushed myself on this race to do a little more than I normally do. I didn’t like some of the unsportsmanlike action taken by the woman ahead of me. I loved that in the end I beat her across the finish line. And I loved that my money for this race benefited No Kill Louisville. It was a cold morning, but a good one…and I ran for a great cause. And in the end…that’s what it is all about.
This has not been an easy road for me. I started off my year strong with a goal of running 500 miles by December. Well, that happened back in June. With that being said, I decided just to keep going…see what all I could manage beyond that. Tentative goal…perhaps 1000 miles this year.
And then…the great plantar fascia tear happened and I had the three week set-back that included no form of running at all. When I should have been increasing my distance and miles for an upcoming half marathon (at that point…only 4 weeks away), I was sitting on the couch, doing foot exercises given to me by my podiatrist and physician, praying with all my might that the pain would go away and that I would make the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon.
I got fitted for orthodics…which I hate. I hate them like death. I have only run in them once, but I am going to put some more mileage in on them this coming week. Why? Because that is what my podiatrist wants. My feet are adjusting to them when I walk around in them, so it is time to see what I can do in them on my runs. But not the longer ones yet. I’m not prepared for that. I can tell you…my feet aren’t either.
Slowly…I got back out to the roads. Barely at first. A couple miles here. A couple miles there. I was afraid to run. Here I am doing one thing that has always brought me joy…and I have this almost paralyzing fear to do it. And when I would go out, I would run painfully slow…afraid that if I pushed more or harder, I’d hurt myself again.
This went on for weeks…and then, just before the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon…I decided to just face my fear…and go out for a run. Just find a good pace. Stick with it. The problem was…the summer has been brutal so pushing would expend way too much of my energy and by the end of my run, I would be ready to collapse. But, I pressed on, even if it wasn’t the level I had hoped for. And my speed, very slowly, began to return.
And then, with the permission of my podiatrist, an amazing tape job on my feet, and a promise to take it easy…I made it to the start of the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon. The weather was, as it had been, brutal. More so with Hurricane Isaac on the brink of making it to Indianapolis. The humidity was at 90% and the race started out under a red flag. This half marathon almost did me in. It took me days to recover from it. I was dehydrated, despite having water with me and keeping a slower half marathon pace. I wilted more and more as the race went on and just prayed to reach the finish line. Which I did…sooner than I even anticipated. No new PR…but I wasn’t there to set one. I was there to return to running and face my fears.
And with all that done, my next half marathon was only a month and a half away. So, I jumped immediately back into training (again). I know that recovery time is important, and due to the strain of that half marathon on my body, I really did listen and slow down until I felt back up to par. In addition, I started doing circuit training workouts to help build up some core strength, and perhaps strengthen some muscles. I’ve almost done it for a full week now and I’m already feeling stronger. My runs…are feeling better.
Or maybe that’s the break in the hot weather.
This morning, I’m heading out for my long run. I don’t know how far I’ll go, but I’m going to run over at Seneca Park in Louisville, Kentucky for the first time. Why? It’s a chilly 57 degrees out this morning…and I just need a change of scenery. I’ve run everywhere in New Albany. I know where the hills are, where the flat areas are, where it’s difficult to run due to traffic lights, etc. I need to just go out there…to run. No worries. Just focus on starting slow, and then building into it. That’s the only way to properly prepare for a half marathon…and I want to work on that.
With the Hershey Half Marathon only weeks away, I’m already looking forward to it. September has arrived and the weather is starting to cool down. Humidity…going down. And I find myself more eager than ever to go out for my runs.
Here’s to staying strong, to staying injury-free, and to the next 100 miles…
Me crossing the finish line of the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon – Indianapolis, Indiana
Race: Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon
Place: Indianapolis, Indiana
Date: September 1, 2012
Time: 2:05:28
Let me start off by saying that this was one of the most difficult half marathons I have ever participated in. It had nothing to do with the course (which was wonderfully flat). Nor the number of people.
What made this race so difficult was the conditions it was run under.
The Good: It didn’t rain on us. In fact, the rain that the remnants of Isaac was supposed to bring pretty much stayed in Illinois until around 6 p.m. that evening. And even then, it was a passing downpour that was gone. So, my shoes live to see another race. YAY.
The Bad: This race began under a RED flag. For those of you who are new to running or are unfamiliar with the flag system on race day…let me sum this up:
Green Flag: Low risk. If the Green Flag is displayed – Go, Go, Go.
Yellow Flag: Moderate risk. If the Yellow Flag is displayed – The heat index is at a point where runners/walkers should slow their pace if they are sensitive to the heat. Participants should be aware of their hydration level.
Red Flag: High risk. If the Red Flag is displayed – Participants should be aware that heat illness is possible and should slow down and increase their hydration. If they are sensitive to heat or humidity, they should not run.
Black Flag: Extreme risk. If the Black Flag is displayed – Runners should slow to a walk and walkers should walk very slowly. Stop, rest, seek shade.
So, while the rain held off, the weather conditions weren’t exactly ideal for a half marathon.
The Ugly: Running on a healing torn plantar fascia. Also, running in 90% humidity. Let me tell you…this sucks!! Imagine running and trying to breathe through a wet towel. Welcome to my Saturday morning race. I promise you…this didn’t feel good and it literally took me out afterwards. I’ll get to that later…
For now…we start at the beginning…which was Friday evening at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Indianapolis. Getting there wasn’t a problem, despite not being able to leave early from work. As long as I got there before the race expo closed, I was golden. It felt like a very near thing…but there isn’t much that you can do when more than half your office is already off and both myself and my roommate were pretty much the only people on our respective teams there. So…yeah…meh. The important thing is I got there in time for packet pick-up, which was what needed to happen.
Now, this race is only in its second year, so it is really small compared to most other half marathons I run in. I think the original count for pre-registers for the half marathon was 1799 as of Friday afternoon when I left the office to head to Indianapolis. This does make it the smallest half marathon I have run. But, that’s rather respectable for a second year race. However, I was kind of bummed about the race expo. It just…was a whole lot of nothing. Granted, everything that was promised on the Web site was there, I just thought it was going to be bigger. The expo was spread out over the 2nd and 3rd floors of the Hyatt Regency, but what it consisted of were some vendors in with packet pick-up, then a few scattered tables outside of the giant ballroom that was in. Then on the third floor, a couple other races and vendors were promoting their respective races/merchandise. And…that was it. There were manicures being done and some massages, but that had pretty much wrapped up by the time I had gotten there anyway from the Louisville area.
With that said and done…Cathy and I headed over to Noodles & Company for dinner. We got it to go, opting to head back to the room, put our feet up and relax some while we ate. Now…with me being gluten-free, Noodles & Company pretty much has one thing I can eat. The Pad Thai. Fine. Except I couldn’t get a protein on it. The tofu isn’t gluten-free. And I’m a vegetarian, so the chicken, shrimp, steak or meatballs. So…I was protein-less when it came to dinner, which actually bummed me out…but what can you do? At least it had 76 grams of carbohydrates. And to compensate for not getting a protein, I got a small bowl of strawberries to enjoy as well. And that was dinner. So, very light on the protein, but good on the carbs. It was something at least.
Of course, after eating I was restless and kind of wanted a dessert. So, we headed through the skywalk to the Circle Center Mall. We wandered around for a bit and then stumbled into Godiva. I got an Extra Dark Chocolate Truffle and that was my treat pre-race. Cathy got a truffle as well, then found a place that sold Diet Mt. Dew in the bottle so she could have some caffeine in the morning.
We went back to the hotel to unwind, relax, and catch up on the weather. At that time, they were still predicting heavy rains to make it into the Indianapolis area and completely soak the city for much of Saturday. Meh. So, I decided to lay out my race clothes for the following day. I decided on a pair of shorts and a bra top. Less fabric meant less to weigh me down in the rain. With that done, I set out my race number, safety pins, headband, shoes, socks, and ponytail holders nearby…and called it a night.
And it was a restless night. But I never sleep well the night before a race. Especially when I’m away from home. I just get restless and think too much or worry over things (in this case…Hurricane Isaac).
The alarm went off at 5:40 a.m., but I had already gotten up and gotten dressed. This was more of Cathy’s wake-up alarm, because I was already in my race clothes and just curled up in bed…waiting for her to figure out it was time to wake up. She actually got out of bed faster than I anticipated, so I set to getting myself fed to fuel up for the morning. This meant a bowl of Envirokidz Gluten-Free Amazon Frosted Flakes (eaten dry) and a banana with Justin’s Almond Butter for some potassium and protein. This is my typical pre-big-race meal. I now my tummy can handle it as long as I eat it an hour before I run. Which…was definitely manageable. Cathy ate her breakfast as well and downed her Diet. Mt. Dew to help her wake up. Then, I went to brush my teeth, pull my hair up, get my Garmin and my Road ID on, put on my headband, lace up my shoes, and then go and have Cathy pin my number on.
Problem. My race bib was bigger than my bra top. HAHA! Story of my life. I was going to put on my tank, but then figured I’d just wear my skirt and pin it to the front of that. So, I changed from short to skirt…which I was okay with…because there was no rain falling from the sky yet and it looked like it would at least be out of the area for the duration of the race. So, that wardrobe change wouldn’t affect anything at all. Now that I had a place for my race bib, I was pinned up and ready to run. Cathy grabbed my sign, again because there was no rain, and we headed down to the lobby of the Hyatt.
Plenty of women were milling about, eating, stretching, taking, getting coffee…whatever it was they felt needed to be done. We walked through and found a semi-vacant area where I managed to get some minimal stretching done before Cathy was telling me we should move outside. So…out the doors we went and headed toward where the start line was going to be.
And it was then that the announcement was made that due to the high humidity, the race would begin under a red flag so runners should not aim to set any new PRs or the like on this race. We were told to run smart and to stay safe. And if the flag was changed to black, we were given instructions on what to do and how to proceed. Well, I’ve run races under green and yellow flag conditions. This was my first red flagged one. With the conditions, we were also told that much of the non-essentials had been removed from the course. There were still water stops and volunteers there, but some of the signage and the like had been removed for safety purposes. This also meant the original corralled start by pace wasn’t not happening. Instead, once the road was closed down just before the race, all the women in the half marathon moved up toward the start line (which had a lot of wire strung out over it to register and start bib chip timing), with no sense as to pace. It was just a gaggle of women, of varying speeds, intermingled and strewn out across the road.
Cathy had given me a good luck hug and moved on toward the starting area to prepare for the start. The National Anthem was sung, beautifully, by a group of women (fitting as this is an all-women race). And then…we were all pretty much unprepared but suddenly we were on the run. The blowhorn went off and we all made our dash across the starting line and began our journey through the streets of Indianapolis. Just women…all on a mission.
I was told about 15 minutes after our start the Indianapolis Women’s 5K Race went off without a problem.
But…I was running the half marathon. And due to the fact that I was coming back from a bad, bad injury (a torn plantar fascia in my left foot that literally left me immobile without the aid of crutches for two weeks), I had promised my podiatrist that I wouldn’t break any land speed records. My foot felt great that morning, but I didn’t want to press my luck. I started off at a good pace…probably a little faster than I intended, and that was when the sheer weight of the humidity hit. I wasn’t even a half a mile into the race and I was already drenched. I could tell then this was going to be a difficult one. I just didn’t know how difficult until I got further into it.
The first couple miles I maintained a normal race pace for me, so I had to actually tell myself to slow down. It was early and I still had a lot of race left. I hit the 5K mark at what would be a slow 5K for me, so my reminder did work. I was already starting to really feel what running in high humidity does to the body. I was really feeling tired. It wasn’t fatigue from not sleeping well. I’ve gotten the same or less amount of sleep prior to all my other half marathons. This was the soul-sucking, energy-sapping humidity and it was really giving me a fight. At mile 5, I had to crack open my Sports Beans and take a few with some water (I carry my own water bottle). This helped a little. I felt a little more energized the next few miles. Mind you, I have never had to break into my Sports Beans so early in a race. I normally hit them up around Mile 10. But that wasn’t happening. I needed a boost because I was really feeling like I was losing energy and fast.
It was about at Mile 5 I decided to walk a water stop and take in some cold water the volunteers were handing out. I haven’t walked a water stop since I ran the Chicago Half Marathon a year ago. But given the humid conditions, the fact that I was trying to recover from a bad injury, and that cold water sounded better than the lukewarm stuff now in my bottle, I walked the stop. I drank a little of it, then poured the rest of it over my head. Which was fine, except it loosened one of my ear buds. And then I couldn’t get it back in. So, I just tucked it into my bra strap and carried on with only one ear bud in and my music still going to keep me company on the road. I figured I could attempt to tuck it back into my ear further up the way. Problem was, when I tried…I noticed that the actual cushion on my Yurbuds was now missing, so putting it back in my ear wasn’t happening. GRRR. Oh well…
I noticed a lot of women who were slowing down and walking more than usual at these races. But the humidity was causing a lot of problems with hydration and stomach issues. Many women were getting stomach cramps. Some were not able to keep anything down. Some just needed to use one of the port-a-potties along the course. The gist of this is…we were fighting. All of us doing this race were literally at war with the humidity…and it was starting to win.
At Mile 8, a volunteer on a bike came riding the other way telling all the women running by to make sure they stopped and got water at that water stop. I decided she was right and I should do that. I was already fighting to lift my legs again, so I figured another drink of cold water would refresh me. I poured the rest over my head again and carried on.
Two more miles ticked by…and the race was getting harder and harder. This course was very flat. But the humidity was unrelenting and many women who were being cheered on by their friends/family members along the course were declaring that they didn’t feel to great, despite insistent compliments from their loved ones that they looked great. Around Mile 10, I was heading toward the crest of a very minor incline and on the corner, a man was standing there shouting down the hill at one of the women who had chosen to walk for a moment. In this sort of weather, under a red flag, that is to be expected. He was just harassing her, telling her that she needed to run, that this was a run not a walk, and it was just plain mean. A man walking the other way shouted at him and said, “Hey! Be nice! They’ve come a long way.” The heckler replied, “Fine, I’ll be nice. Run. RUN!” Grrr. I just wanted to smack him upside the head…but I didn’t want to expend any of my energy on him and focused on the last 3.1 miles. That was all that remained. A 5K.
Longest 5K ever. And at some point in the early part of it, my other ear bud refused to remain in my ear, so it was done without music to motivate me through. Let me tell you…it was a struggle. I glanced at my Garmin at one point and saw my pace at 11:54, which I have never run at. That is like…amazingly slow for me. But each step felt like a battle I was losing. I got out my Sports Beans again, though they didn’t even sound appetizing, and downed a few more with some of the water left in my water bottle. By Mile 11, I was doing a little better. Mile 12…I was starting to see more spectators and the extra encouragement always helps on a hard race.
It was also at this point we were rounding a corner to head toward the finish in White River State Park and we were directed around where some Barbeque Festival was going on. Let me tell you…after running in 90% humidity and feeling like (I’m not going to candy-coat this, friends) shit, the last thing I wanted to smell was charring meat. I mean, aside from being a vegetarian, it was pretty much stomach-churning at that point. But, I pressed on and came around a corner, seeing the entrance for White River State Park. I was almost there.
I think it was sheer stubbornness that got me across that finish line in the time I managed. I figured I’d finish more around my first half marathon time (Chicago 2011 – 2:20:51), but with Cathy cheering me on near the finish line, and tons of spectators just making some noise, I pressed on. The announcer said my name as I crossed…and that was that. Race done. I got my race chip deactivated and headed into runner’s services, where I was given my finisher’s medal, a beautiful rose, a bottle of water, and a banana. I waved at Cathy and set my stuff down to get my finisher’s photo taken in front of a backdrop, then continued on to where Cathy was waiting for me. She gave me a hug and we moved away to give other finisher’s and families/friends space to locate each other.
The massage tent was just up the way. So I cracked open my bottle of water, took a few sips, and headed over to get signed in. I was told to head into Line 3, which I did. Cathy dug out my protein shake and then hurried to go check the unofficial finishing times. While she was gone, I was chatting with the woman ahead of me about the race and we both thought the humidity was just enough to do anyone in.
And as Cathy returned…I handed her my protein shake, which I managed a couple of sips from and said it wasn’t sitting well in my stomach. A moment later, I looked over at her and told her I felt really light headed. She told me to lay down and put my feet up in the air. Which I did…and that helped. A lot. After a couple moments, I felt better and got back up. This lasted for a few minutes, and then I was feeling light headed and seeing a lot of black in my vision. So, I laid back down and got my feet elevated again, and remained that way until it was my turn for the massage chair. As my legs were feeling heavy, I asked to have them worked on, which my masseuse did to perfection. She was very nice and kept me talking about running, racing, and other such things. I felt so much better afterwards, drank some water and called my mom and dad as the unofficial results had posted my time.
I meandered back to the hotel with Cathy where I ducked into the bathroom to shower off. Thank God for that hotel stay for another day. I needed a cool shower to really bring me back to life. I took my time…just let the sweat (or liquid awesome) just wash away. I got out of the shower, dried off, and dressed for the rest of the day, which involved sushi for lunch, a visit to the Indiana State Museum, more sushi, rest, and then dinner at The Adobo Grill. For much of the visit to the museum, I felt awful. I managed to get through the three floors of displays and the like and it was only when we were in the gift store that I told Cathy I was ready to leave. I wasn’t feeling good. It was dehydration. Because when I got back up to the room, I got my large bottle of smart water and began drinking that…and I was feeling revived. The second round of vegetarian sushi was an added pick-me-up as well.
So…I managed to make it through to the finish, though the humidity kicked my butt in the process…and honestly almost did me in. But I made it through to the finish and recovered the rest of the weekend.
Official result for the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon are that I finished in 2:05:28. I was 236/1416 finishers overall. And I was 46/254 women in my division. Fighting back from injury, walking water stops, and battling the weather made this a bittersweet finish. It’s my second slowest half marathon time…but I felt like I fought for every second of it. And I couldn’t be happier with these results. Sure, part of me wonders what I might have managed had the humidity been better or even walked the water stops…despite having an injury…I think I could have set a new PR. But this was not the race for that. Not under these conditions. And I’m okay with that. I overcame a lot to get to this race and I overcame more to get through it.
And for that…I feel like a winner.
Me conquering my injury, my doubts, and the humidity at the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon.
Well, I was hoping and praying and dreaming of a nice day for the Indianapolis Women’s Half Marathon on Saturday morning. But it seems Hurricane Isaac has other plans for the race. So, as much as I was hoping to stall any chance of me running a half marathon in the rain…it seems like this will not be the case. It is going to happen…on Saturday.
Am I worried about it? Nah. I mean, yeah running for 13.1 miles in the rain isn’t my idea of a great time…but I do love to run in the rain. Hurricane weather, however, I’m not too sure of.
As it is, they are predicting winds up to 7 mph and about 6 inches of rain in Indianapolis. That’s a whole heap of rain.
So, if I like to run in the rain…why the blog?
Because…I just got new running shoes not too long ago. And, sadly, running in the rain shortens the life of shoes by…a lot. So, the hard-earned money I put into those new kicks…is about to be shot. I will do my best to get them dried out as soon as possible. This means I’ll probably be grabbing a newspaper at the hotel and getting the inserts out of them as soon as possible.
As of now, the race is set to go off as planned. However, if there is lightning…there will be a delay of the start of the race.
I trained so hard to get back to running in time for this race. I’ll run it rain or shine. And I know I’ll have a blast doing it. This race means a lot to me because I had to really fight my way back from injury…taking baby steps…working with the most amazing podiatrist ever…and taking a hit on my training…but it’s been worth it. And I want this race to be good. Even if Hurricane Isaac drenches me from head to foot. Even if it means I have to go buy new shoes when all is said and done. The fact that a month ago I couldn’t walk…but in two days I’ll be heading out for a wild, wet, crazy 13.1 with 1799 other women in the streets of Indianapolis.
Amy I ready for this? Yeah. As ready as I can be and ready to shine as best as I can given the circumstances. No new PR will be set on this race. I have to run this one smart so as not to injure myself again. My podiatrist was kind enough to get me to this race I owe him the respect of following through on my promise to run this one easy.
Me and Cathy at my first race back after injury last year – the Walk Away From Colon Cancer 5K Run. It has the same distinction this year.
It was just last year around this time that I was prepping for my first race back from an injury. That injury was stress fracture in my right foot and really bad runner’s knee in my right knee. It kept me out of running for 3 months last year…and I struggled hard to come back to it. I was determined to be a better, stronger, and smarter runner after that. And…with a lot of motivation, a lot of practice, and listening to what my body was telling me…I did just that.
And my first race back happened on August 27, 2011 at the Walk Away From Colon Cancer 5K Run in Louisville, Kentucky. It was my first time running in Iroquois Park, so I had no idea what to expect. But from what I heard…it was hilly. Not what one wanted to hear when coming back from injury. But…with a lot of long-distance cheering from friends and family…and my ultimate support section (that being Cathy, my roommate…who has never missed a race yet and is always at that finish line)…I got through it and finished with my slowest 5K race to date. Yes…even slower than my first 5K ever.
But there are lessons in these stories.
As I stated in my earlier post, I’m recovering from a torn plantar fascia. This very painful injury had me on crutches for two weeks and has since had my foot taped up in order for me to comfortably move around. It was hard for my podiatrist to even okay me to run a little bit, let alone okay me to run in a half marathon on September 1, 2012…but he did okay it as I assured him that I would not push too hard and I would slow my pace. The point was to heal properly, not do further damage.
Well, that date is rapidly approaching…and my first official race back after missing out on two prior due to being on crutches and unable to run…is this Saturday. And what is it?
The Walk Away From Colon Cancer 5K Race.
Again.
But, I think I’ve done well to prepare myself for this. I rested for the first week after seeing my podiatrist. He had given me permission to run up to 2 miles, but I didn’t…figuring I could take the rest of that week off and then slowly get back to it. And…that’s what I did. When I went back to get fitted for inserts for my shoes, he said that I could work my way up to 10 miles over the next couple of weeks, gradually increasing my runs by 20%. But if I hurt…I was to stop. I agreed.
And so far, I’ve been doing fine. Sometimes something hurts, but I slow my pace and ease up…and I get that flow going again. My first weekend back on the road, I did a 10K run around my parent’s neighborhood. This past weekend…8 miles…with as many hills as I could find. I’ve kept my pace slower than I used to run and so far, my foot has treated me well. Nothing that has crippled m up again. And I intend to keep it that way.
The road to recovery is not an easy one for me. I put on my running shoes and all I want to do is take off and see how fast I can go and for how long. I’ve had to train myself to look at my runs differently. And it’s even more challenging when what used to be an easy run now feels so hard. It’s amazing how much fitness you can lose over just 2 weeks from being up on crutches and unable to even walk. I’ve been pretty good about doing my foot exercises he gave me to do, hoping to get that tendon back into perfect shape. I struggle at times to push myself because I have this fear that if I push even a little bit…I could get injured again…or do worse damage. And that’s the last thing I want to do. Those two weeks I couldn’t run were two of the worst weeks I’ve had in a long time. I was miserable.
But when I finally laced up my shoes for an easy 2 mile run…my first since the incident…I looked at my roommate and told her I was afraid. She told me not to be afraid of something I love doing so much. It’s okay to be nervous…but I shouldn’t be afraid. And so…I set out and ran…2 very easy, very slow miles. And I was glad I did.
That fear is still there every time I put on those running shoes and head out for a run. I want to get back to where I was pre-injury, but I know I need to take it easy. Ignoring the pace on my Garmin is not an easy task. I tell myself not to look…just to count the miles. And that’s what I do. But, sometimes it is just so tempting to let my eyes wander down on the watch and see what pace I’m going at.
Right now…it’s not about speed, it’s about getting through each run safely, without pain, and feeling good. The fitness will return once my body has healed completely. Until then…it’s all about pacing myself. Slow and steady means I get to race. And if that’s the case, I’ll be a tortoise. Because a stretch of time without running is torture to me. I’d rather be slow then sedentary.
On Saturday…I hit up the road at Iroquois Park once again for the same race I made my official comeback in last year. My goal is to simply finish…whether it means walking the hills like I did last year or not. At that finish line, I want to cross it without having to limp or needing assistance. I just want to run a good race and continue on my path to a full recovery.
Yes…this isn’t an easy task…but I’m making it work because in the end, I know it will make me a better runner.
The hardest lessons are most often the most important ones. I’m learning a lot about myself and what I’m capable of now more than ever.
Remember my letter to my left foot? Epic fail. Instead of doing me a favor and getting better…it decided it was going to ignore my pleas all together and so something of its own accord. It decided to get painful.
After my 4 mile run over a week ago, where I carefully taped up my foot and got through the race with no issues…my foot decided to fight back. So, after cooling down and standing around and chatting with my friend Keith afterwards, I stepped off the curb to start toward my car and found myself literally paralyzed with white-hot pain coursing through my foot. Not good. And from there…it got worse. To the point that after fighting all day to move, when I got home that Saturday late afternoon, my foot had enough. And I could no longer put any weight on it.
It was like that on Sunday too. So, Monday morning I made a phone call to my doctor to see about getting an appointment. I figured something had to be wrong because any pressure I put on my foot led to lots of pain and tears. She was booked up until 3:30 p.m. on Monday, so I ended up taking time off from work and finally getting in to see the doctor. This meant I needed some help from Cathy (the roomie) because I couldn’t walk anywhere. She got me up to the office, back to the scale, and then to the exam room.
My doctor came in and asked me some questions. At that point, my ankle was still a little swollen, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. I had been icing it religiously and taking Ibuprofen though. Well, she decided it was Plantar Fasciitis, which is inflammation of the thick tissue on the bottom of the foot. This tissue is the plantar fascia and it connects the heel bone to the toes and creates the arch of the foot. She said she would schedule me with a podiatrist, but until then I was given some exercises to help with my foot. She offered to write me a prescription for crutches, but someone at the office had already volunteered to bring some in for me.
Every day, I would say a little prayer that when I woke up, I would be able to stand on my foot. But it didn’t happen. The pain didn’t lessen either. To bear any sort of weight on my left foot was excruciating. I’d try…oh, I would try, but it hurt like hell. The crutches were a Godsend, except they hurt my arms. That following day after I saw my doctor, I got a call from her office saying my appointment with my podiatrist would be the following Monday. A whole week away. I was more than a little frustrated. And I still hoped that I would be better by the weekend and could cancel my appointment with the podiatrist and get back to my active lifestyle and daily runs.
It didn’t play out like that. And one reason I had hoped to be better by that weekend was I was registered (for a whopping $55) to be a runner at The Color Run in Louisville. What is so great about The Color Run? Well, they throw paint powder on you as you run the 5K. A few ladies in my office were doing it. Every time they brought it up, I started to cry. Because I knew…I couldn’t do it. Not even walk it. Not with crutches. Could you imagine going 3.1 miles on crutches. My arms hate me for even thinking about it. It sucked. But I consoled myself with the fact that I was out of luck…and out of my entry fee on this 5K.
I thought I was dealing with that well, until I went to packet pick-up (after all, I paid $55, I should at last go get my number and swag bag…with t-shirt and all). I got my race number, my packet, my t-shirt and hobbled back to the car. And started to cry. I had really wanted to be a part of that race. And my foot had other ideas. No amount of consoling from my roommate helped either, but she tried. She really did. As the day went on, I endured pictures of the race going up on Facebook by not just my co-workers, but friends of mine who were able to be a part of the fun event. I had to stop going to Facebook, because it only made me cry again.
The very next day was my appointment with my podiatrist. That morning, I hobbled into the office and turned in my paperwork. They soon took me back to an exam room, got me prepped for some X-rays. Let me tell you, when you can’t put any weight on your foot, stepping up to a platform to get X-rays of your foot sucks. It sucks scissors.
But with the help of the X-ray technician, we got me up there and positioned for a few different X-rays…of both feet, the left foot, and the right foot. And then, with my crutches, I was back to the exam room and waiting on the podiatrist. He arrived…and introduced himself. He seemed very nice. He asked me to give some background as to what happened, so I told him the story about the race and everything. So…he was quite aware that I am a runner. Oh…and then I broke some more news to him…I am signed up for a half marathon on September 1, 2012…exactly a month away.
He hung his head, “Oh crap.” When he inquired as to my training schedule, I whipped out my iPhone and pulled up my app for that (Yes…I do have an app for that). He looked at it and then handed the phone back to me. And the said that it looked like I had tiny tears in my plantar fascia. He pulled up the X-rays and began to show me the evidence of this. And when he was done with that, he said that normally he would give patients a Cortisone shot in the foot, but as I am a runner, he wouldn’t do that. He believes giving runners a Cortisone shot is sending them on a suicide mission. So, he instead taped up my feet (yes…both of them) and got down to the nitty-gritty.
He gave me 6 exercises for my foot/ankle/calf muscles to do three times a day. I could still run. But I really had to dial it back. No more than 2 miles. Slow. Easy. And then…for the rest of my training, I was to move to the pool or the bike or the elliptical (as long as my heel doesn’t come up off the machine). Two miles of running. When I’m training for 13.1? Yep. But…I want to get better, yes? He then said, that if the pain didn’t let up…then we would have to nix the half marathon in 4 weeks. I almost cried. Almost. The only reason I didn’t was because it was still green lighted for now. FOR NOW.
Then he told me he wanted me back in the office on Thursday to get fitted for some orthotics for my shoes. Okay…I was supposed to go out of town to Columbus after work on Wednesday…but getting my foot back in working order did have to take precedence. So…I agreed and scheduled the appointment. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be until later in the afternoon. GAH!
Two reasons this frustrated me. For one…I was entered in a 5K (which I knew I couldn’t do…so now I was out another $30 I was out), and had to postpone my journey out of town to visit with a friend. But…it was for the best and in the best interest of my foot. It just sucked. Oh…and he told me I was not to use the crutches unless I was in a lot of pain. So, I sucked it up…and walked my way out of the office. Wouldn’t you know it…having my feet taped up helped!
So…here I sit…$85 poorer from races I don’t get to run. Plus out my co-pay at the doctor’s office…plus the co-pay I have to pay tomorrow when I go back. Let’s not forget the cost of my inserts for my shoes…
Yeah…it’s not pretty, friends. Not at all.
But, there is a silver lining to this cloud. Tonight I was able to stand on my left foot as I was changing into my pajamas. It didn’t hurt enough to make me think that I should sit down to do it. So, I see that as a good thing and as an improvement. I’ve been good about taking the anti-inflammatory he prescribed me. And I’ve been doing my exercises three times a day. I haven’t gone back to the gym yet…and I haven’t tried running…yet. I’m scared to. I don’t want it to hurt and I don’t want to do further damage.
But not running is killing me more, I think. I’m irritable, I’m cranky, and I’m missing it. Even if I can go for just two, slow miles…then…I’ll take it. So, I think on Monday…I might give it a shot. Even if I last for a few steps. I’m at least trying. I’ll get back to it. I hope. I was just reaching the peak of my running. I was better than I ever had been. And then I was sidelined. So…here’s to thinking positively and hoping for continued improvement. I’d really like to run in that half marathon. It’s women only race…which I love. I ran the 5K last year and said that this year it would be the half. I hope to still be able to do it. But that’s up to my doctor in the end. I trust him. After all, he called me the day after my visit to see how I was progressing, if the prescription was working, and if I was staying off the crutches.
As for the tape…it’s been a huge help. I’ve been walking on my own since he taped me up…and that was leaps and bounds ahead of where I was prior to going into his office to see him.
So, I’m bummed to sit out of yet another race I paid for…but I hope this will mean I can come back to the 13.1 miles I want to run in the beginning of September. Keep your fingers crossed. And here’s hoping my foot continues to heal properly, perfectly, and remains strong so that I can get back to pounding the pavement and building my speed and endurance back up.
I don’t know what more I can do for you. Ever since you were hurt, I have done my best to take care of you and get you back into running form. But you are fighting me with every step. I have bathed you in Icy-Hot. I have rested you on an ice pack. I have given you gentle massages. I have kept you elevated. I have even stopped running. And you know how much I hate not running. I’ve sacrificed for you in hopes of getting some compensation and a little relief in return.
But tomorrow is a 4 mile race I have been really looking forward to running. And you still aren’t better. I’ve done all I can for you and said prayers to the running gods that each morning I’ll wake up and take a step…and not feel pain.
But you have let me down each and every morning since the injury occurred.
I know runners have the mantra to run through the pain…well…tomorrow that is what I will have to do. Slowly. Easily. The very things I hate doing during a race.
I’m starting to wonder if my plan to really push myself on a race will ever come to be.
So…I ask again…before I rise to get the ice pack for one more night…please…please feel better in the morning.
I have my athletic tape ready in case you protest…but I’d really like to be able to move without limping or wincing. And I’d really like to…RUN!
So, please…have a little mercy on the runner who has taken some mercy on you.
Please? I bought you new running shoes last weekend…that should be incentive enough…
Anyone who knows me and has seen me this past week will know that I am not a happy girl. How could I not be happy, you might wonder. I mean, on Saturday I purchased brand new running shoes. That would make any runner happy, yes?
Well…normally…yes.
But not me. Not right now.
Why, you might inquire, am I miserable? Because I haven’t been able to run.
It happened…again. My roommate followed me too close and when I had to stop as someone stepped in front of me, her foot came down on the back of my shoe and tugged my Achilles again. AGAIN!!! At first I tried to lessen my speed and intensity…but the pain wasn’t getting any better. So, I had to make a conscious, and difficult decision, to rest.
Yeah…I’m moody now. My runs mean more to me than anything. I’m hard at training and now…for the second time…for the same reason as before…I’m sitting on the bench. And here I sit with weekends of races ahead of me, including a 4-miler this Saturday. I’ve been taking Ibuprofen like it’s crack and icing my foot whenever possible…but it just won’t get better. My mornings at the gym have been delegated to the weights and the elliptical. UGH!! Let me run!!
I hate it. I hate every moment of not being able to run. Every synapse in my brain tells me to just do it…and then the logical part kicks in and tells me…if I rest it…it will get better…faster. Well, I’ve been resting it and while the pain has subsided some, I feel like every muscle from my left calf down to the bottom of my heel (and sometimes through the arch) is tight now because I’ve been trying to compensate for the soreness in the heel. UGH. So, I’m now making an even bigger conscious effort to not limp and not baby my foot. The problem is…it still hurts. And the longer the pain lasts, the more concerned I get about Saturday’s race and the unhappier I become.
I’m not in a good place right now. The elliptical machine does not make me happy. My 35 minutes are better spent running than gliding back and forth on a machine. It’s not the same. It’s fantastic cross training…but it’s not the same. It doesn’t feel the same. It’s not…the run.
The Grand Slam 4 Miler is taking place downtown this weekend…and I’ll be there. I just hope I can put forth some effort in this run. I ran one hell of a 4 mile race this past winter and I was hoping to see how this compared. I’m thinking my pace will be slow…my effort easy…and I’ll just have to wait until the next one.
And yes…this once again…makes me unhappy. It literally pisses me off. I hate being injured. Yes…it was an accident, but being sidelined again for being stepped on again is not an easy pill for me to swallow. I want my run. I want to get out there and do what I love to do more than anything in this world. And when I can’t…when I have to sit here with my foot on an ice pack, praying that the running gods will have mercy on me and get me back into form by Saturday morning…it’s hard to feel confident. I want to train. I want to be out on that road, feeling that pavement under my feet, or…hell…finally properly seeing what my new running shoes can do.
Frustrated doesn’t begin to explain how I feel. I’m upset. I’m sad. I’m missing my run.
I just need to run.
So…another day of rest, more ice, and a shot of Ibuprofen in the morning, noon, and at dinner. Maybe, at least, by Saturday, I can walk without a limp. Or better yet…make some attempt at a lope…if not a jog. But a run? Would that be asking too much?
I hope not. Because the call of the road is constant…and my running shoes are begging for some pavement to beat.
It’s early. I know it’s early. But this is actually later than I would normally get up to prepare for a race I need some time to travel with. The fact of the matter is…I wanted to rest so I set a later alarm. This means a little more hurrying this morning, but it was worth it.
You see…I’m nervous.
Why?
This morning, at 8:30 a.m., I will be taking off from the start line of the Activate America 5 Miler in Frankfort, Kentucky. No big deal, right? Well…it is for me.
You see…last year when I ran this race something happened. First of all, the weather was horrible. No exaggeration. I’m talking thunder, lightning, driving rain…the works. The race start was postponed…but they finally decided to let us run it. Even with a couple flashes of lightning still working. So, we lined up, immediately got soaked to the skin, and headed out for a very wet run.
I was doing okay for the first part of the race. We were told that if we felt uncomfortable running in the weather to come in after 2 miles as there is a 2 mile walk attached. I paid for this race, so I was going to run the entire thing. And after the 2 mile and 5 mile races separated, I felt a sharp pain in my foot.
I admit…I’d been nursing the foot for a little while. I walked around Vegas a couple weeks prior in Sketcher’s Tone Ups, which are great, but not for walking the strip for 8 hours straight. So, I had already been sore. But this was all-out pain. I didn’t stop though. I just altered the way I would stride and land. By the end of the race, I was fighting for each step but made it past that finish line. And then limped around for the better part of the summer. You see, instead of listening to my body, I ran through the pain and ended up with a stress fracture in the top of my foot and really, really bad runner’s knee. I didn’t run the rest of the summer. No joke. There was no way I could. I’d try…and immediately have to stop. I was cranky because of it, I hated wearing bandages and braces on my knee and foot, but I was in a lot of pain. From June to August. And it took multiple doctor’s visits, x-rays, and specialists to finally get me back in shape to run.
So, yeah…I’m nervous. This was the race that briefly ended my running last year. I’m sure all my U2 concert going peeps remember my hobbling around, tears, and the way I had to bandage and brace my right leg and foot. It sucked.
This year, the weather is going to be hot!! No rain. Just starting at 72 degrees is going to suck. So, the plan is to run smart. Yes…I want to beat last year’s time, which was actually really good for someone running on a bad foot and an injured knee. Will I be upset if I don’t? Probably. But the important thing this time is to run smart, listen to what my body is telling me, and to finish strong…not limping.
I’m about to finish getting ready to climb into the car for the drive to Frankfort, Kentucky so I can pick up my packet and get some stretching in before the runner’s line up. Here’s to a good, injury-free race.
Think of me, friends. And I’ll try to focus on the run, not the injury I got last year.
The Celiathlete 