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Week 11: Running Daddy

5 May

What’s up with Liv?:  This week, all our girl wants to do is move!  She’s a total wiggle worm, twisting and squirming, her arms and legs flapping and flailing constantly.

5/2/2013

5/2/2013

Another constant, is her nonstop bubbles and drool soaking her clothes, fists, blankets, my shoulders, etc.

Mommy's little drool monster, 5/3/2013

Little drool monster, 5/3/2013

Drool baby, 5/3/2013

That’s just drool. Seriously. 5/3/2013

Giggle time on the changing table, 5/3/2013

Drool baby, 5/3/2013

Liv’s had some exceptionally fussy evenings this week, but we’ve learned the sound of the exhaust fan in the bathroom calms her.  So I’m publicly admitting Liv’s taken a handful of naps in the bathroom this week.

5.2.13_sleepyliv

Loves napping with a blankie by her face, 5/2/2013

Best of all, Liv’s started laughing out loud, which is the highlight of my whole life.  We spend 90% of her awake time trying to make her laugh.  Have I mentioned how much I love being Liv’s mom?

4/27/2013

4/27/2013

What I’m up to?:  It’s been quite a week!  Hubby ran the La Jolla Half Marathon on Sunday (his 20th half marathon!).  This was only my second time spectating and although it was a lot more difficult with an 11-week old baby (who still nurses every two hours), it was a blast.  Liv wore her Chicago Bears sleeper and let me show her off as all the runners zoomed by.  Jared even paused for a kiss at Mile 9 and a quick picture with his daughter.  I think she carried him through all 13.1 of those miles.

La Jolla Half Marathon, Mile 9, 4/28/2013

Mile 9 of the La Jolla Half Marathon, 4/28/2013

20th half marathon, 4th year at La Jolla! 4/28/2013

Post-race celebration beers, 4/28/2013

On Monday, I was still so fired up from the race, that Liv and I went for an 8 mile stroller run!  And on Tuesday, I finally got my wisdom teeth out after they decided to show up right when I got pregnant last May.  So basically, I haven’t eaten this much ice cream since I was pregnant!

Recovering from oral surgery, 5/2/2013

Recovering from oral surgery, 5/2/2013

Also new this week, I finally conquered my fear of the breast pump!  It took a couple hours to go through the cleaning, sterilizing, and assembly before I pumped Liv’s first bottle, which Jared promptly gave to her.  And she ate like a champ!  She’s had several more bottles through the week as I’ve been recovering from oral surgery and (knock on wood) it’s going really well.  Our girl just loves to eat any way she can get it!

First bottle with daddy, 4/28/2013

First bottle with daddy, 4/28/2013

Running Mama:  Another awesome highlight of the week was reuniting with my favorite run bud, Suzie, which inspired me to set some running/fitness goals for the month.

That, and I bought myself some new runners (happy early birthday to me)!

5/4/2013

5/4/2013

  • Saturday:  OFF
  • Sunday:  2 mile walk
  • Monday:  8 mile stroller run
  • Tuesday:  OFF – wisdom tooth surgery
  • Wednesday:  1.6 mile walk
  • Thursday:  1.6 mile stroller run
  • Friday:  3.3 mile stroller run
5/4/13

Take 1: Scowly-faced Liv, 5/4/2013

5/4/2013

Take 6: Finally, a smile! 5/4/2013

Week 11 Thoughts from the Zen Dad:

So much has happened in one, short week.  Liv is most certainly a time warp.  Sometimes, time seems to stand still.  Others, it flies by.

Last Sunday, I ran my 20th half marathon.  The La Jolla Half Marathon is one of my favorites and I’ve run it for four consecutive years.  Truthfully, I was incredibly nervous this go round.  I haven’t been training at all (maybe five runs since January), and this is a VERY hilly course (with over a mile running up Torrey Pines mountain).  The week prior to the race, I seriously debated dropping out.  The night before the race and even the morning OF the race, I was still considering it.  After a lot of hemming and hawing, I realized that I’ve been looking forward to this race since before Liv was born.  I kept reminding myself this would be memorable as my 20th half marathon and my first one as a Dad.  So there I was, the morning of the race, looking at my sleeping baby, realizing what better motivation is there to complete this run than to show my daughter you can do ANYTHING you put your mind to.  The race was incredible, but nothing will ever measure up to seeing Meg holding Liv at mile 9.  I was so overwhelmed with excitement, I stopped racing and grabbed Liv for a mini photo shoot.  Not only was it the highlight of my week, it was one of the highlights of my life.

Running daddy, 4/28/2013

Half marathon daddy, 4/28/2013

Just when I thought this week couldn’t get any better, Meg worked up the courage to tackle the pump.  Know what that means?  DADDY GETS TO FEED THE BABY!!!  Holding her in my arms as she took her bottle and looked me square in the eyes was unlike anything I can begin to describe.  It was as if she was talking to me, deep in my soul.  Since then, I’ve fed her a handful of times and each time is equally as amazing.

I feel so grateful to have such an amazing daughter and amazing wife.  Week 11 rocked my world.

Breathing in, I connect deeply.
Breathing out, I inspire.

Week 11 in Review:

  • Liv loves:  Music, nursing herself to sleep, staring at herself in the mirror
  • Liv hates:  Getting too hot, having her nails clipped
  • This week’s firsts:  First time spectating at a race, first bottle
  • This week’s almost first:  Liv hates tummy time so much, she’s almost rolled herself over a few times!
  • Workouts:  2 walks, 3 stroller runs = 16.5 miles
  • 1st post-baby race:  22 days
  • 1st post-baby half-marathon:  29 days
  • Highlight of the week:  Watching Jared give Liv her first bottle.  And watching Liv stare up at her daddy with big, bright eyes, as if to say: “Thank you, daddy.”
First bottle with daddy, 4/28/2013

4/28/2013

Week 38: Carlsbad Half

27 Jan

Today, hubby ran — and rocked! — his 19th half marathon (no big deal)!

Carlsbad Half Marathon FINISHER! 1/27/2013

Carlsbad Half Marathon FINISHER! 1/27/2013

Several months ago, when the Carlsbad Half Marathon was getting close to selling out, I seriously considered registering.  Being here, now, with this big ol’ bump, our “due date” just two weeks away, and knowing our little one could be born any day…  Well, I made the right decision in not signing up.

And so I got to be a spectator at one of Jared’s races for the first time ever!

We were on our way to Carlsbad by 6:15am.  The clouds looked ominous, but luckily, it didn’t rain!  Spectating was really emotional for me (I blame Bob).  I got to see the first female marathoners fly through Mile 22 — literally, they weren’t running!  I swear, they were flying!

I saw first-time marathoners, stroller runners, cancer survivors, and hundreds of courageous, determined people, reinforcing and reminding me of the infinite reasons I love running so much.  I cried a bunch.

Hubby stopped for a photo at Mile 8.5, 1/27/2013

Hubby stopped for a photo at Mile 8.5, 1/27/2013

…especially when I saw hubby.

I couldn’t be more proud of him!!  His training included: walking Sully every day, waiting on his pregnant wife hand-and-foot (also daily, ha!), a few short runs, and only two long runs.  Despite everything we have going on right now, he absolutely killed it.  I managed to see him at miles 4.5, 8.5, and 13.0, and he was smiling and having a blast the whole way!

I tried to be funny by cheering with a poster that Jared got a huge kick out of…

Totally joking! 1/27/2013

“Run faster, hubby, my water broke!”  1/27/2013

But the sign may have freaked out a few runners and nearby spectators, ha!

(Totally joking!!!!) 38 weeks pregnant, 1/27/2013

(Totally joking!!!!) 38 weeks pregnant, 1/27/2013

No baby yet!!  (Hopefully we do have a couple more weeks…)  But our little Bob will be here soon.  And I think that’s why today’s race was extra special and emotional and awesome.  Even from the sidelines.

38 weeks pregnant, 1/27/2013

Mommy & Daddy-to-be, 38 weeks, 1/27/2013

Week 27: Silver Strand 10.1

15 Nov

I ran the AFC Half Marathon at 15 weeks pregnant and although I was definitely slowing down, I felt so great that I excitedly registered to run the Silver Strand Half Marathon on 11/11/2012—at 27 weeks pregnant.

Well friends, A LOT changes in 12 weeks of pregnancy.  My running has been slowing down since the very beginning, but it really started to change at 20 weeks.  Not only was I dealing with the constant urge to pee, but the belly started feeling awkward and heavier the further I ran.  My pace slowed from 10:00 minutes/mile to 12:00 minutes/mile.  Recently, I’ve been averaging 13:00+ minutes/mile as I’ve had to break up the short, slow running intervals with more and more walk breaks.  Running has become such a mental exercise for me because cardio-wise, I crave—and want to do—so much more.  I barely break a sweat during these “runs,” and yet physically carrying this sweet little Baby-on-board has been so surprisingly strenuous.  In simple terms: My heart wants to do more.  My brain thinks and feels like it can do more.  But my uterus is saying: “Girl, you are crazy!”  So yeah, it’s a mental exercise to, um, listen to my uterus, I guess.  Then again, it’s pretty impossible NOT to listen to it…

So on Sunday, I set out to run/jog/walk/waddle my way through my third and final pregnant half-marathon.  I tried to be a smart, responsible mom about it:

  • I dressed warmer than usual—prepared to do as much walking as we needed.
  • I carried my handheld water bottle with electrolytes.
  • I wore my Spibelt with ID, snacks, and my cell phone, so I could stay in touch with hubby and if necessary, have him pick me up along the course.
  • And I promised myself I’d listen to my body.

I lined up in the back of the pack with the walkers, but I started out with a nice, easy jog.  I took my first walk break as soon as I hit Mile 1.  I stayed to the side, doing my walking thing as other runners passed.  One runner patted me on the shoulder as he ran by—a gentle, supportive, you-can-do-it-sorta pat, then he looped back and said, somewhat surprised: “You’ve got a bun in the oven, don’t ya!?”  I smiled and told him I’m just starting my third trimester.  He stuck with me, saying his wife was a dancer and danced all the way through her third trimester before she had their son 26 years ago.  I started jogging again and we ended up chatting for four miles.  At that point, I told him I needed to start walking and sent him ahead to finish strong.

This course isn’t the most spectator-friendly, since the majority of the route runs along Highway 75 with very few opportunities for spectators to park their cars and cheer.  I was prepared to run without seeing Jared until the finish; however, my #1 Fan and Baby Daddy did his Mr. Amazing-thing and managed to see me (and run with me!) three times before Mile 8!

I spotted him just shy of Mile 4, where he let everyone know within earshot that I’m his pregnant wife.  We saw him again after Mile 5 and I let him know I was slowing down—the belly was feeling very, very heavy.  And by Mile 8, I told him I knew I was going to have cut it short.  He refilled my water bottles, walked and jogged with me, and repeatedly told me how proud he is.  I believe him, he’s definitely proud of me, but I think he also knew how hard it was for me to not finish the race.

Mile 8, Silver Strand Half Marathon, 11/11/2012

Mile 8, Silver Strand Half Marathon, 11/11/2012

From previous years, I knew of the upcoming out-and-back stretch at the end (Miles 9.5-12.5) and when I had the choice to turn right and commit to the final three miles or go straight towards the Finish Line at the pier, I went straight.  I jumped in with the other runners and ran through the Finish Line with 10.1 miles on my Garmin.  A small piece of me felt like a failure—disappointed that I didn’t complete the full 13.1 miles, but the other 99% of me knew I made the right decision.

I’ve never needed to lay down and take a nap so badly in my life!  Bob and I were donezo.

10.1 miles @ 27 weeks pregnant, 11/11/2012

My #1 Fan & Baby Daddy, 11/11/2012

I had some pretty immediate soreness in my lower abdomen—like overworked muscles screaming: “We’re tired of carrying this heavy bump!”  So I spent the afternoon waddling around the house with my hand under my belly, trying to offer Bob some support.  I laid on the couch and in bed, napping on-and-off for several hours (yes, HOURS), and eating everything in the house.  After a shower, I felt (practically) good as new, just tired.

Several days later and I’m still reminding myself that I didn’t fail and I’m not a quitter.  I’m still reassuring myself that I did the right thing by bailing at 10.1 miles, and that I earned that race medal as much as I earned every other race medal I’ve ever gotten.

Best of all, I’ve been daydreaming about telling Baby Chuck the story of our seventh race together.  I sure hope he or she likes the race medals we’ve earned, because I think they’ll look good in the nursery.

Bob @ 27 weeks, 11/11/2012

Fast forward to today: I was doing my usual walk/jog on the treadmill during lunch when the security guard came through on his rounds.  We see each other almost every day—often while I’m in the gym, but rarely say more than a few words to each other.  He’s complimented my haircuts in the past, when no one else has noticed, but he’s never said anything about my bump.

Today, he caught my eye and said: “That kid’s gonna come out running.” 

I smiled and said, “I hope so!”

Week 15: AFC Half Marathon

24 Aug

This past Sunday, I ran the AFC half marathon for the third time, but this time, at 15 weeks pregnant!  The past couple years, we were blessed with cloudy mornings and mild temps.  This year, though, our luck ran out.  It was set to be hot-hot-hot and muggy.  For several days before the race, I worried about my lack of training and the heat.  Would I peter out early?  Would the heat be too much?  Although I’ve run 19 half marathons and over 60 races, pregnancy is uncharted territory for me.  I didn’t know what to expect…

I tossed and turned Saturday night, continuously weighing whether or not to run Sunday morning, but when my alarm went off at 4:30am, I got up and got ready.  Of course, I was going to run.  That’s just what I do.

My rockstar hubby, drove me to the busses at 5:00am, where I waited in line to be shuttled to the start.  I wore my purple “Running for Two” tank, thinking I would get some positive feedback from spectators and runners—you know, a little pat on the back or a “You can do it!”  Surprisingly, I got whispers and weird stares.  Standing in line for the bus, a couple girls behind me whispered to each other: “Oh my gawd, did you see her shirt?!?!  She’s running PREGNANT.”  It wasn’t necessarily judgmental or negative, but it was awkward to know I was being talked about.

Waiting around at the start, I noticed more whispers and pointing.  I heard someone say: “I like her shirt.  That’s awesome,” and another: “She’s running pregnant, wow!”  But no one said anything directly to me.  It was so strange.

At 7:00am, the race started.  I settled in with the back of the pack, wanting to make sure I took it easy and didn’t go out too fast.  I found a groove, running 10:00 minute miles (almost 2:00 minutes per mile slower than the half marathon I ran six months ago).  It felt amazing to be out there, doing what I love so much, with a little person, who I haven’t even met yet, but love so much, too…

The race was mostly sunshine and rainbows, but it wouldn’t be a good race if it didn’t have some gnarly twists to it (right…?).  With this one, it was all about the heat.  Weather.com promised a cloud-covered morning, but those clouds were nowhere to be seen and at 7:00am the sun was HOT.  I was dripping sweat by Mile 1 and continuously sipped from my hand-held water bottle, refilling it at water stations along the course.

At Mile 3, I spotted Jared and waved as he cheered: “THAT’S MY PREGNANT WIFE!” which made spectators and runners around us cheer too.  I ran on, on cloud nine, drenched in sweat, but so happy.  I was surprised to spot hubby again, at Mile 5, this time holding a neon green poster board: Go Chuck and Bob: Running for 2.  I paused to refill my water bottle, gave him a sweaty kiss, and kept running as he hollered he’d see me again at the finish.

By now, I really had to pee.  Every port-o-potty station I came across was a zoo with dozens of runners stopped and waiting and even though I really had to go, I really didn’t want to stop… so I kept passing them up, thinking: I’ll stop at the next one… next one… next one… by Mile 8, it had to happen, so I stopped and waited.  I sucked down a Gu while waiting for the half dozen people in front of me and although I lost more than 5 minutes with that pit stop, I came out of the john ready to zoom to the finish.

Runners were dropping like flies around me—overheated, drenched in sweat, and out of gas.  I plodded along at my 10:00-11:00 minute per mile pace, weaving around one walker after another.  It was hot and I was so sweaty, but I still felt great, so I guzzled water and kept going.

At Mile 10, I was surprised and thrilled to see my professional race spectator hubby, again with his neon green poster board, giant grin, and tagline: “THAT’S MY PREGNANT WIFE!”  It was odd to be at mile 10 of a half marathon, feeling sad that it was almost over, but I was.  The course wove through downtown, where there were some blissful stretches of shade from the tall buildings, and then we started the two mile ascent up to the finish line.

Those last two uphill miles of the course are usually annoying, but I was ready for them and felt surprisingly good.  I wound my way into Balboa Park and crossed the finish line with an official time of 2:20:51—more than 10 minutes faster than I’d predicted.

It was my 20th half marathon, but in so many ways it felt like my first.  I wandered through the finish area overwhelmed with emotion—proud of myself, in love with Bob, and running with Bob… and so infinitely grateful to be a happy, healthy, pregnant runner!

After a shower, brunch with friends (a HUGE stack of gluten-free pancakes!), and a lazy evening with my pup, hubby, and growing baby bump, I really can’t think of anything that would’ve made for a more perfect day…

Channeling my inner Mermaid

13 Jan

Despite my Resolution to race less, I’ve been (obsessively) hunting for a half marathon to do in February.  Originally, I had my eye on the San Dieguito Half Marathon, which came highly recommended by a rockstar runner friend, who made the mistake of throwing in the word “challenging,” while describing it…  This wee little word slowed me down from registering on the spot and after a little research, I learned it’s a pretty gnarly course–like, crazy hilly!  Check out the elevation profile from halfmarathons.net:

I didn’t rule out San Dieguito right away, because I do love a challenge–I’ve really enjoyed running the La Jolla Half Marathon course, which is also very hilly; but, I would definitely say it’s not a PR-course, unless you’ve trained for the hills.  Welp, my priority is a PR, and I have NOT been training hills!

And so I stumbled upon the Mermaid Run, which is an all women’s race hosted by Prevention magazine and it’s, like, spitting distance away from our front step!

If it was called The G.I. Jane Run, I probably would’ve signed up already.  I’m just not a big fan of the name “Mermaid Run”–although I was a huge fan of Disney’s The Little Mermaid, oh, 20 years ago… ish…  I would be much more inclined to sign up for a run that showcased tough, badass, fighter chicks…

So do I choose the sweet, flowery, girlie race over the killer, hill-saturated, challenging one???  Hang with me for a minute while I work through this:

#1) Like I said, it’s right in our backyard on Mission Bay and looping around Fiesta.  While I’m not stoked about the course (which is b-o-r-i-n-g), this is very familiar territory for me.  I’ve been running these same pathways since we moved to San Diego, so that’s, like, hometown advantage, right?

#2) Also, with it being in our backyard, I can SLEEP IN!  My family doesn’t tease me about being a grumpy grouch for no reason, it’s because I am not a morning person.  I was born that way.  Leave me alone.

#3) The course is flat, flat, FLAT!

#4) It’s on a Saturday morning, which rocks, because it won’t suck up the whole weekend.

#5) Alison Sweeney–the host of Biggest Loser!–will be there and I adore her, mostly because she had a daughter a couple years ago and named her Megan, so obviously, she’s rad.

#6) Registration is “only” $60 for the half-marathon, which is durn cheap for a half-mary in these parts!

#7) The fee for the San Dieguito half currently stands at $80 and has been touted as a “cheap race.”  I don’t know about you, but 80 bucks ain’t cheap to me!  If I do the girlie run for 60 bones, that’s 20 bones SAVED.  Or, more likely, $20 for trips to Yogurtland!!!!

#8) Icing on my I-love-racing-cake: Instead of finisher’s medals, we get necklaces!

#9) AND instead of boring old unisex t-shirts, we get HOODIES!  I love me a cozy hoodie!

#10) It’s a small field thanks to it being a women’s only event with half marathon, 10K, 5K, and mini races staggered from 7:30am to 9:45am.  Megaraces have their perks, but small races have their own awesomeness too!

#11) Last, but not least, a half marathon is a half marathon!  Running 13 miles is a challenge with or without hills and men!

Should I channel my inner Mermaid?  Or balls up and hit the hills?

Any other races I should consider this year…?

Expo day!

29 Oct

It’s 9am here in San Diego and for us, it’s chilly (FYI: San Diego “chilly” is upper 50s-low 60s, brr!), so I’m bundled up in sweats, drinking toasted coconut coffee, and soaking in the feeling of fall.  If I wasn’t so chilly (or lazy…), I’d go carve a pumpkin or make a pumpkin pie.  But alas, there’s no time for that because…

Today is EXPO DAY!!!!!!!!

In three-ish hours, Jared, Muffin, Sully and I will be en route to L.A. for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Los Angeles Half Marathon, which will forever be remembered as Muffin’s first half marathon!  Although he continues to insist that he hates running and this race is it for him, I’m not convinced.  There will be more.

Hubby and I will be running together(!), which we rarely do because although we both love running, we often run with different intentions.  I am admittedly obsessed with it and love and crave pushing myself to the max.  Hubby’s love for running is more of a laid-back affair that he defines as a “connector”–to connect with me and my passion, to connect with nature and health.  But tomorrow, we will run the entire race together, which we’ve only ever done a few times (out of 40-some races)!  I wish we had costumes to wear, but again, there’s that whole lazy thing…

As for Sully… Sully’s a dog.  He won’t be running the half marathon–not because he wouldn’t love to, but because it’s prohibited.  Moreover, he doesn’t have a job, so he wouldn’t be able to afford the registration fees.  Especially for a Rock ‘n’ Roll event… In any sense, we’re bringing him along for fun (and moral support in the form of love and cuddles).

In other news, I may or may not decide to run a marathon next weekend.  I’m leaving it up to tomorrow’s event to decide… Crazy much?

Tajmaunion 2011: I ran a half marathon!

14 Jun

Let’s start this off by acknowledging something that I did not…

  1. I live in San Diego at Sea Level.
  2. Frisco, Colorado is 9,097 feet elevation.
  3. That’s a big difference.

On Friday, the fourteen of us were finally all together in Frisco, Colorado, so we spent the day wandering around the cute little city, peeking in tiny museums and random gift shops.  We were sampling gumbo and beignets at a little Cajun place, where Dave spotted a sign advertising a Half Marathon taking place the very next day.  On the spot, I decided to do it.

Saturday morning, I got up at 6am and walked one block to the Frisco Community Center, where I paid for a bib and boarded a bus to the Start Line.  I shivered and froze my tail off for an hour and a half before the gun went off.  As I huddled amidst the crowds, I listened to endless fretting about the wind, the big gray clouds that were quickly rolling in, and the altitude.  I had forgotten my iPod and it had been six days since the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon, so I couldn’t help wondering what the heck I was doing out there, but at the same time, I wasn’t the least bit nervous or worried.  I had no expectations or plans for this event other than to enjoy running in Colorado with all of it’s obstacles and challenges.

At 8:30, we were off.  Immediately, I was aware of the most difficult challenge: breathing.  It was impossible to get full, deep breaths and although I started out at a slow and easy pace, I felt out of breath like I was all-out sprinting.  I kept on, but was overwhelmed with emotions as I struggled to breathe.

Mile 1 – 10:06
Mile 2 – 9:45
Mile 3 – 9:11
Mile 4 – 9:19
Mile 5 – 9:32
Mile 6 – 9:36

Without my iPod, I went to a dark place… I had flashbacks of the trauma eight years ago, of being choked and the moments before I lost consciousness where I had absolutely no control and no ability to fight.  My eyes filled with tears as I ran, but I wasn’t sad.  I was angry and empowered, knowing that eight years later, I’m in control of my life and my body.  It’s those excruciatingly tough parts of running that I cherish because when I dare to remember that horrific day of my life and the stormy year that followed, I also remember that I saved myself.

I’ve been running for four years now, and it’s (still) not easy.  A couple years ago, I wrote: “I run because it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  It’s the most challenging and painful form of exercise that I’ve pursued.  It tears you down, beats you up and leaves you stripped of everything, so all that’s left is you, doing what you can to survive the journey.  No one’s going to carry you to the finish line–no one can get you there but yourself.  You push, you push harder, you breathe, you sweat, you fight… you save yourself or you remain unsaved.”

At the heart of it, I run for me–for my life and for what I’ve reclaimed by running.  I run because I’m a survivor and no matter how many years may pass, sometimes, I still need to save myself. 

Just shy of Mile 6, the Half Marathon and 10K courses split and I hit a wall.  I wasn’t getting enough oxygen.  My muscles were cramping and I was overcome with nausea.  I veered into the woods and threw up.  I shuffled back to the course, laughing at myself, feeling dizzy and lightheaded and much, much better.  I ran on.

Mile 7 – 10:30
Mile 8 – 11:39
Mile 9 – 10:33
Mile 10 – 11:55
Mile 11 – 11:21
Mile 12 – 10:30
Mile 13 – 10:51

 

Last 0.1 mile – 0:43 (7:27/mile)
Garmin Time: 13.1 miles, 2:15:37 (10:20/mile)
Official Finish: 13.1 miles, 2:15:42 (10:22/mile)

I caught sight of the Finish Line and was flooded with another wave of emotion as I spotted my friends waving, jumping, screaming, and cheering for me.  I didn’t expect anyone to be there… we were on vacation, it was early in the morning, I’d decided to run at the last minute, and knew it was a crazy move on my part.  Honestly, I think I underestimated how much they love me and really get it.

Anyhow, they were there!  And as though my heart wasn’t already about to explode from the altitude and exertion, it overflowed as they screamed my name and then showered me with hugs.

 

We flew back to San Diego last night and although I can finally breathe again (I heart sea level!), I couldn’t have asked for a better or more perfect weekend and like I said in the previous post, I am truly brimming with love and gratitude for these crazy, awesome peeps.

    La Jolla Half Marathon: Take 2

    19 Apr
    Yesterday, I ran my eleventh half marathon.  It was my second time running La Jolla and although I was really pushing for a PR, I’m satisfied with a PR for this course.  I was about four minutes off of my personal best for the half marathon (1:53:15), but I ran 18 minutes and 34 seconds faster than I did last year at La Jolla (2010 = 2:15:33 and 2011 = 1:56:59)!  It’s hard not to be happy about that! 
    Saying this course is “tough,” feels like an understatement.  I tried to downplay the hills in my mind: “Yeah, they’re steep, but they’re short.“  The truth is, those suckers are killer!  My hammy’s were screaming climbing the hills and my quads were trashed by the steep descents.  Just like last year, the race announcer at the Start Line kept calling them: “Character-building hills,” which was almost as annoying as the half dozen spectators strategically placed along the course, shouting: “It’s all downhill from here!“ 
    I wish I was stronger on hills and I really wish I could accomplish that without having to train on them… sigh…

    Knowing the popularity of this race, we registered early and paid the minimum fee of $60, which isn’t too pricey for a race in Cali, but… not worth the money, if you ask me.  The expo was a super lame waste of time, the shirts we got are starchy, stiff, white, cotton tees (mine’s heading straight to Goodwill), and they didn’t have any fuel along the course, except for water and Vitalyte.  I found it pretty amusing that a boy at one of the water stations was shouting: “Vitalyte, here!  It’s just like Gatorade, just with a nasty aftertaste!“  I can’t handle electrolyte drinks during races, so all they had for me was water. 
    Since it’s a point-to-point course, they provided shuttles and the option to be shuttled from the finish to the start or vice versa.  They had a 5:30am cut-off to catch a ride to the start, so Jared and I had a lovely 4:00am wake-up call on Sunday morning.  I barely slept due to race nerves, our neighbors’ Saturday night shenanigans and Jared’s and Sully’s incessant snoring (…those rascals).  I was a restless mess.
    We left the house at 4:45am, parked near La Jolla Cove, then waited in line for a shuttle.  The shuttle system they had going on was absolutely stupid.  Coming from a race-aholic who genuinely couldn’t care less about blips in race organization because nothing trumps the high of racing, that is BAD.  They had a couple thousand runners waiting for shuttles to the start line, a dozen busses were lined up, ready to be loaded and sent to Del Mar, but the officials were only loading ONE bus at a time and they were doing this very, very SLOWLY.  Seriously, so stupid and I just don’t get it.  It seemed like they didn’t know what was going on.
    The 13.1 mile bus ride to the Start Line took an unnervingly long time.  Jared dozed, while I tried not to pee myself.  And when we finally got off the bus, I was horrified to see the usual lonnng lines for port-a-potties.  I did the pee-pee dance while we waited for what felt like an eternity.  I kept looking at Jared and saying: “I am going to die before we even get to those hills!“  Fortunately, I made it.  We dropped off our warm-ups at the chaotic bag check as a duo sang the National Anthem and the race announcer said what he said last year: “That was the BEST National Anthem that we have ever heard at this race.”  The gun went off while I was stuffing a gel in my back pocket and ripping open a sample packet of Sport Beans and I started to relax as we made our way to the Start Line.
    Between trying not to pee myself and getting ourselves to the Start Line, I hadn’t had a moment to stretch or warm-up, so I started off feeling sluggish.  My pace was well below target and I started to panic a bit inside.  It wasn’t an ideal start, but I wasn’t going to hand over my goal that easily.  I flashed Jared infinite love and gratitude and kicked it up a notch.
    On the bus ride I’d taken one last look at the course map and elevation chart, noting hills at miles 1, 3, 4, 6 and 12.  Knowing that the big one was at mile 6, I set it in my mind to churn through the first half, survive mile 6, then cruise to the finish.  I clipped off one mile after another:
    Mile 1: 9:12
    Mile 2: 8:33
    Mile 3: 8:36
    Mile 4: 9:13
    Mile 5: 8:14
    At mile 5, I pulled out another sample packet of Sport Beans to fuel-up for the monster hill looming ahead, but as I ripped open the package, the jellybeans went flying everywhere.  Only two jellybeans made it in my mouth before we started to ascend into Torrey Pines.  Another runner yelled: “We’re coming for you, Torrey!“
    I’d resolved to the run the whole hill, but it grew steeper and steeper and steeper as I realized it’d be faster to hike up the hill than to continue attempting to run it.  And so I started power walking up that monster of a hill, just like a majority of the runners around me.  My PR hopes deflated and I didn’t dare look at my Garmin as it chirped my mile time.  I knew it would be atrocious.
    The cartoon elevation chart makes it look like you get to the top of the hill, then the course flattens out before descending, which isn’t accurate.  There were some rolling hills from that high point, which were tough because my hamstrings were worn out.  For the next couple miles, I struggled to pick up the pace again and reached for my Clif gel, praying it’d give me superpowers. 
    Mile 6: 10:53
    Mile 7: 9:27
    Mile 8: 9:02
    A little Clif gel magic plus a substantial descent, helped me pick up my pace.  I was happy to know there were only five miles to go and let my legs fly down the hills thinking: “Give it all now, recover later.”
    Mile 9: 8:33
    Mile 10: 8:44
    Mile 11: 7:26
    One of my goals for 2011 is to run a mile in under 7:30, which I’ve never done before.  Go figure I’d pull that off during the tenth mile of a half marathon…
    Hang on, I told myself as I headed towards the last hill and another cluster of spectators shouting: “Last hill!“  A runner nearby said, “Why do they keep telling us that?!”  And I replied, “This time they’re right!  Hang on!”  As we crested the hill and descended on the Finish Line, I willed my legs to go faster and faster, but still, several runners blazed past me.
    Mile 12: 8:07
    Mile 13: 9:02
    Last 0.28 mi: 1:50 (6:49/mile)
    Garmin Results: 13.28 miles, 1:56:59 (8:48/mile)
    Official Results: 13.1 miles, 1:56:59 (8:56/mile) 
    The finish line party was the highlight of the race.  Without a doubt, La Jolla has one of the best beer gardens we’ve ever attended because they fence off a gorgeous grassy area right by the ocean AND the beer was unlimited.  Being a celiac (a.k.a. gluten-intolerant) girl, I can’t drink beer, so I got to stretch out in the grass and watch Jared coast his way to a “beer PR.”   

    Five beers later… we wandered into La Jolla for brunch at the Coffee Cup.  It was a 30 minute wait, so we put our names on the list and wandered around the corner to Cups, where we had dessert first!  Life is short, afterall… AND we just ran 13.1 miles…
    We each got two mini cupcakes, since the tiny ones are calorie-free.  Right?  I got the two gluten-free flavors of the day, which were limone ricotta and bunny love (carrot cake).  The carrot cake one was heaven!  Jarebear got a (vegan!) cookies n’ cream one and one called a brulee-J that had vanilla custard in the middle and a carmalized top… it looked amazeballs.

     
    All sugared-up, we walked back to the Coffee Cup, where we finally got a table and filled our bellies with more delicious food before heading home to veg on the couch all day… at least until we were hungry enough to venture out for Chipotle and Yogurtland!

    Life is a rollercoaster… so what the heck do I do with this surfboard?

    9 Feb

    You guessed it, life’s been a little rollercoaster-y over here with ups and downs and more ups and downs.  I’m doing my darndest to throw my hands up in the air and enjoy the ride, but I’m a girl who likes her peace.  My mantra for this week should be: “Change is good.”  It’s certainly not easy for me, but I need to learn to embrace the possibilities that come with it.

    Anyhow, onto the good stuff…

    Last night, Jared surprised me with tickets to see Sarah McLachlan in concert.  I’ve been a fan of hers since my freshman year of high school and I feel pretty confident (and smug) in saying I know all of her published work.  I certainly knew every song she sang last night and the concert, by far, surpassed all of my expectations.  It was absolutely perfect.  I was surprised to find myself so unbelievably emotional before, during and after her concert, but she’s just such a beautiful person with a beautiful soul and her music has carried me through some indescribably dark times in life.  To this day, her songs soothe my soul like no other artist and before I fall further down this well of melodramatic awe, I’ll sum up by saying (and it probably goes without say) that the concert rocked my socks off, despite the fact that I was paralyzed in my chair because I didn’t want to start bawling like a baby.  Again, it was perfect and I’m infinitely thankful to have a hubby who just gets it.

    We weren’t allowed to take photos during the concert… but here’s the stage!
    Waiting for the concert to begin!
       
    New boots!

    Last fall, I determined that Sunday, February 6th, 2011 was destined to be the gosh darn BEST day of our lives, man!  We signed up to run the Surf City Marathon in Huntington Beach, then planned to watch our teams go head-to-head in the Super Bowl (his team: Chicago Bears versus my team: Pittsburgh Steelers).  I was convinced it’d be the Steelers’ seventh Super Bowl win, since it was supposed to be my seventh marathon; HOWEVER, destiny had a different plan.  I got injured during my fifth marathon (Long Beach on 10/17/2010), hobbled through the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas half instead of the full and when my physical therapist repeatedly demanded: “NO RUNNING!” I threw my hands up in the air and downgraded from the Surf City full to the half (compromise, right?).

    So it wouldn’t be my seventh marathon (or my sixth, for that matter), but the Steelers were on their black-and-yellow way to the Super Bowl and I was still jazzed for a Heath Miller-hail-mary-last-second-of-the-game-winning-touchdown.  Again, Ms. Sassy-Pants-Destiny has a mind of her own…

    I’ve run over two dozen races in the past year and a half and I’ve never had the #7 on any of my race bibs–no joke!  My Surf City number was 19229–still, no #7.  And still, no #7 for my Steelers.  Darn cheeseheads… Oh well.

    Surf City Expo in Huntington Beach
    J’s bib said “Monkey” – too bad it was so small…
    Hey, hey! A chick named Chuck!
    Buying a Spibelt.  Jared took pics because it took me forever and a day to decide which one I wanted.
    February in So Cal
    We swung by Maggiano’s in Costa Mesa on our drive home.
    Despite my happy face, I really picked the wrong time to do a vegan cleanse…

    Moving along to my Surf City Race Report:

    Huntington Beach is 80 miles north of San Diego, so Jared and I were up at 3:30am on Sunday morning.  I am NOT a morning person and I’m usually extremely slow to get out of bed (my snooze button gets A LOT of action), but race mornings are an exception… well, I was up after one five minute snooze instead of ten.  I got dressed (in black and yellow, of course) and scurried around the house, gathering a change of clothes for the ride home, and packing pre and post-race snacks.  Sully was a wimpery, confused mess.  Jared was probably singing (he’s always singing).

    Check out all that black and yellow!

    The website warned that the (free) parking lots would be full by 6:30am, so we took off at 4:15am and arrived at 6:04am.  By golly, I think we were the first ones there.  Jared reclined his seat and took a nap, while I ate my oatmeal, made nine billion pee pee trips to the public beach restrooms (WAY awesome compared to traditional race’s port-ew-potties) and quite literally watched the sun come up.

    We decided to hoof it to the starting line since an absurdly long line had formed for the shuttle.  We ended up walking 1.5 miles to the start and arrived at 7:45am as the race announcer was sending the wheelchair racers on their way, so we quickly checked our jackets at the gear tent and headed for the corrals.  We ducked in with the 2:10 pacers and just shy of 8:00am, we were off!

    It was extremely gray and foggy, so although we were running along Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean views were pretty minimal.  We cruised along with the 2:08 pacers and hit Mile 3 at 28:18 (averaging a 9:26/mile), which was both surprising and exciting.  Two weeks ago, I ran the Carlsbad half in 2:09:53, so I was hoping for another sub-2:10.  Jared and I got separated during a water station and I briefly pulled to the side to look for him, but couldn’t spot his yellow t-shirt, so I continued on, shooting him infinite love and gratitude.  Just short of Mile 4, he caught up to me just to say he loved me (Reason #6,237,590,294 why I’m the luckiest girl in the world) and after encouraging him to enjoy the run, practice his meditation and smile for the entire last mile, we parted ways.  I’d caught up to the 2:06 pacers and was already gunning for 2:04.

     At Mile 6, I grabbed a cup of water and a cup of Sharkies (energy chews) and struggled to choke two of them down as I ran.  These are very stick-to-your-teeth chewy, though I think they’d be perfect pre-run or if you take breaks mid-training run.

    I cruised through miles 7 and 8, ambitiously thinking: “I wonder if I can break 2-hours today?”  As I crossed a split mat at 8.2 miles at 1:13:30 (averaging an 8:58/mile pace), I realized I was pushing awfully hard for having another 5 miles to go and started to feel like I couldn’t hold it.

    But I did my best.  I’d caught up to the 2:04 pacers and while I desperately wanted to hunt down the next group (2:02, I suppose), I couldn’t muster enough umph to push past the 2:04s, nor could I even see the next group ahead.  At mile 10, I was feeling totally beat.  I could feel that phantom twinge in my right knee, alerting me to a looming IT Band temper tantrum, but I wasn’t about to throw in the towel!  I focused on running with a strong core and proper form, aiming to land mid-foot with each stride.  This helped for about 39 seconds.

    I was tired.  And I really, really, really wanted to slow down, but I also really wanted to do better than I did in Carlsbad.  So I hung onto the 2:04 pace group, which consisted of three female pacers leading what looked to be just one runner.  And that one runner, bless her heart, was really having a tough time of it.  She was hunched over, sucking wind, her eyes glued to the ground in front of her.  So I focused on looking livelier than her.  One of the pacers ran next to her shouting: “Keep your eyes up!  Do.  Not.  Look.  Down.”

    And so I kept my eyes up, but I still felt grumpy and angry and frustrated and discouraged.  I was struggling.  I knew how important it was to stay positive because as soon as you let that negative just-give-up voice take over in your mind, you’re finished.  I did not want him to poo on my parade, so while I couldn’t seem to locate my positive you-can-do-it voice, I knew Jared would share his.  And so I thought about what Jared would say if he were physically by my side.  He would say he believed in me and that I amaze him and that I can do anything I put my mind to–optimistic, positive, lovey-dovey junk like that.  And it worked.  I held pace.

    I walked through my last water station just shy of Mile 12, gagged on a couple more Sharkies, then ran on with Jared’s voice in my head and a big stupid grin on my face (or at least in my heart, because my race photos are atrocious…) and I crossed the finish line with 2:14-and-some-change on the clock.  I hit the stop button on my Garmin and stared at my time in disbelief: 1:59:54.

    Officially, I finished in 1:59:52 with a pace of 9:09/mile and although it felt like a major effort in those final 3 miles, it gives me hope that I can come back quickly and hit my sub-4:00 marathon goal soon.  Very soon.  I scooped up my surfboard-shaped medal and huddled by the curb until I spotted Jared coming through the finish line chute, then scurried over so we could hug, kiss and congratulate each other, muttering our usual exclamations: “We did!  We did it!”

    Stopped by the medical tent to have a bag of ice saran wrapped to my right knee/IT band

    This was my tenth and his ninth half-marathons and it never gets old.  It never ceases to be awesome and amazing and completely exhilarating.  I actually teared up a bit on the drive home as I realized we don’t have any half or full marathons in the very near future (we have the La Jolla Half on 4/17 and the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon on 6/5… so dreadfully far faaaaar away, sigh…), so that’s when I shifted my focus to Super Bowl Sunday… and we all know how that turned out…

    Oh well, I guess it was my day to win and not theirs!  Sorry, Steelers.

    Heartbreak didn’t break my heart

    13 Sep

    Well kids, I’ll admit it: I got greedy.

    Having PRed at my last 7 races, I was extremely hopeful about Saturday’s half marathon, despite my meager attempts to take the pressure off: “It’s just a training run, really!”  I guess I really shot myself in the foot when A) I demolished my half marathon PR last month, by cutting more than 12 minutes from my previous time, B) ran a 20 miler on Monday, 5 days before the race, and C) selected the most challenging course I’ve ever run (i.e. off-road, all hills, hot and sunny).

    On Friday night, before the race, I had the hardest time winding down after work.  I lingered in the fridge too long, I goofed off on the computer, then tossed and turned in bed second-guessing my race outfit, my fuel choices, my wake-up time.  I kissed the hubby good-bye at 6:15am and headed for the military base where the race would take place.  It was 45 miles away but the drive flew by because I was totally wrapped up in my head: nervous, anxious, excited, terrified.  I reminded myself: This is optional, you know.  You don’t have to race.  You could scrap the run, go home and go back to bed.  That silly thought didn’t last more than 10 seconds.  I’m too curious to not go through with it.  I’d spend the rest of my life wondering how that race would’ve turned out.  I guess that’s why I can’t stop myself from signing up for so many races… I’m just so darn curious to know what I’m truly capable of accomplishing.  That, and there’s nothing like finishing a race–no matter how phenomenal or terrible, crossing that finish line is always an accomplishment.  It’s like getting a grade back on a project you busted your ass for–you’re dying to know how you did because you gave it your all.  You just have to know what the effort earned you.

    I arrived at the base, where I was required to show my ID, proof of insurance and vehicle registration before following “Race Event” signs several miles across the base to the Starting Line.  This was, by far, the most organized race I’ve ever participated in.  I’ve said this to a few people who all respond: “Duh, it’s held by the military,” but seriously, I’m still jaw-to-the-floor impressed.  I picked up my t-shirt effortlessly, got markings on the backs of my calves: “27″ for my age and “C” for civilian.  I walked right into the cleanest port-o-potty without waiting in a line and even washed my hands in a portable sink with soap and paper towels!!!!  All, effortlessly!  I am still amazed…

    The race was delayed by 15 minutes because there had been a long line of cars entering the base, but by 8:15, the National Anthem had been sung, the first wave (military men) was corralled and they were off!  The second wave lined up (civilian men), where they waited for 7 minutes before taking off.  The third and final wave was called (you guessed it, all women) and I lined up with another runner who appeared to be by herself.  She introduced herself as Kathleen and we chatted nervously, joking that our running buddies ditched us because they were scared of the hills.  Up until this moment, it had been blissfully cloudy and cool on base, but as the race director gave us our cue: “Get ready…” the sun burst out from the clouds and it’s punishment ensued.  I looked at Kathleen and said: “Figures.”

    And then we were off!  Right away, I realized Kathleen was targeting a slower pace than I was, so I wished her luck and focused on finding my rhythm.  Mile 1 went well.  The crowd thinned out and I was thrilled to run a sub-9:00/mile without any kind of warm-up.  Mile 2 brought the first uphill stretch, which got remarkably steeper through Mile 3.  I felt so defeated to feel myself slow down so drastically and so early in the race.  I wanted to cry, but thought: “What goes up, must come down.”  Sure enough, Mile 4 took me downhill, where my heartrate also came down and I could let my legs fly.  Miles 5, 6, and 7 were rolling hills that gave me a better opportunity to manage my pace and start picking off girls in my age group (i.e. this was the fun part!).

    During Mile 5, I spotted a blonde in turquoise with “28 C” on her calves.  I steadily caught up to her and when I started to pass her, she took one look at me, furrowed her brow and picked up her pace, pulling ahead.  I let her go, taking the opportunity to draft behind her for a quarter-mile as we passed through an especially windy stretch, but she started to slow and I was holding steady at 8:20/mile and started to pass her again.  This time, turquoise shirt shot me a dirty look–you know, one of those I-hate-your-guts looks from the playground–and sprinted ahead of me.  Wow, I thought to myself, she’s gonna burn out.  And so I hung out at 8:20/mile as she periodically glanced over her to shoulder, making sure I wasn’t trying to pull ahead.  At Mile 7, I stopped at a water station to make sure I actually swallowed some water and turquoise shirt looked like she had hit the jackpot as she left me in the dust–literally!  It was so hot and dry, we were all caked with dusty-dirt from our feet to our thighs.  I got such a kick out of her giant, triumphant grin.  I quickly settled back into 8:20/mile, soon passed her and she was nowhere to be seen by the time I hit Mile 8, which was a shame.  I could’ve used the push as I headed into that 4-mile uphill climb.

    Miles 8, 9, 10 and 11 were incredibly defeating despite the fact that I was consistently passing civilian and military men from the first two waves.  I cursed the constant uphill climbs, one after another.  My left hip ached.  I was absolutely livid that my pretty, purple Asics were filthy.  Sweat burned my eyes.  My heart felt like it was going to explode.  I looked at the pace on my Garmin and was furious.  I wanted to give up.  But I still had hope.  C’mon, you can still break 2 hours!  Make it happen!

    Heading into Mile 12, I heard a volunteer shouting: “Top of the hill.  Home stretch!”  At that point, I let it fly–”fly” being relative here…  I fell back into an 8:20/mile pace and held on for dear life thinking: Break 2 hours, break 2 hours, break 2 hours.  The last few tenths of the course twisted and turned, uphill, over a curb, uphill again, through a parking lot and finally, finally, there it was, the glorious finish line.  I raced across the blue and orange finish line strips with 2:12:00 on the race clock and hit stop on my Garmin: 13.27 mi, 1:58:30 (8:55/mi).

    Again, I wanted to cry, not because of a hill or pain or feeling defeated, but because I did it.  It felt like a Christmas miracle.  No, it wasn’t a PR.  I was more than 5 minutes off of besting that time, but this course…. this course was brutal.  And still, I ran my heart out at Heartbreak Ridge and in my book, I won.

    Mile 1 - 8:54
    Mile 2 – 9:05 (uphill)
    Mile 3 – 9:42 (uphill)
    Mile 4 – 8:25
    Mile 5 – 8:16
    Mile 6 – 8:26
    Mile 7 – 8:34
    Mile 8 – 9:03 (uphill)
    Mile 9 – 9:38 (uphill)
    Mile 10 – 9:39 (uphill)
    Mile 11 – 9:42 (uphill)
    Mile 12 – 8:29
    Mile 13 – 8:24
    Mile 13.27 – 2:07 (8:07/mile)

    Official Time: 13.1 mi, 1:58:32 (9:02/mile)

    Clearly, I have a mixed bag of emotions about this race.  Despite the fact that I am sorer from this race than ANY race I’ve run (including the marathons…), I am already planning to go back next year because, as my buddy, David, a marathoner in the Air Force would say: I want to DOMINATE IT!  I hate walking away from a race feeling like I have unfinished business, like I did with the Flying Pig Marathon, but with that race and with this one, I did my best.  I gave it my all, and I should be proud.  I learned a lot about myself and the variables of running and racing and next year, I’ll dominate it.

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