Good-bye Twenties

In honor of turning 30 tomorrow....29 things I'm proud of, were learning experiences, or I accomplished while in my 20's:

1. Was the first in my family to graduate from college.
2. Got my Bachelor's Degree in Art History.
3. Paid off all my university debt.
4. Found my career in higher education.
5. Became 100% financially independent from my parents.
6. Bought my first car.
7. And paid it off.
8. Had my first (and hopefully only) at-fault car accident.
9. Pierced my belly button.
10. Moved in with a boy for the first time.
11. Learned how hard it is to move out of that situation.
12. Learned how to mend a broken heart.
13. Learned that it is possible to pick up the pieces, put yourself back together again, and come out the other side only to find you are a much better person than before and that love is always there when you least expect it again.
14. Discovered that my sister really means when she says she's there for me, any time of day or night. Because I've tested it and she's proved it.
15. Lived on my own for over a year.
16. Ran my first marathon.
17. Ran 6 more after that.
18. With the exception of my sister and my friend Jess from college who I met when I was 19, I have made all of my very best friends in my 20's.
19. Fell in love with my very first pets.
20. Learned how hard it is to lose them to illness.
21. Learned that it's true, time does heal all wounds.
22. Realized my family is too important to live this far from them.
23. Learned how to communicate with my parents.
24. Traveled the world. A lot.
25. Had my first surgery.
26. Found my own voice and learned how to stick up for myself.
27. Learned that you are never too old for anything.
28. Learned to trust my instincts, my gut feelings, my intuition.
29. Know that this is only the start of what I will accomplish in my life.

Athlete shopping

The lovely people at become.com asked me to write a "Top 5 Gifts for Athletes" guest blog, and I tried to make it all-encompassing. An 'athlete' can mean a lot of things, so I hope this list is helpful to those shopping out there. Feel free to send people to the link if they ask you, 'hey, what do ya want for Christmas?' Hee hee!

Top 5 Gifts for Athletes

Almost done with my IMAZ spectator report, so that should be up this week!

Stay warm, everyone!

California International Marathon Race Report

Short version:

It was cold. It kinda sucked. Definitely felt Malibu on my poor legs. 5:27:32. It's over.

Long version:

I was actually really looking forward to race weekend, minus the race. I kept referring to it as a 'girls' weekend, with an unfortunate race thrown in.' Nicole flew into town on Thursday at noon from Michigan and I was soooooo excited to finally meet her in person! Some people can't understand the whole idea behind meeting friends online, but I really think this is a whole other ball game with runners. Especially runners who blog. Also, sometimes you have to trust your gut to ensure that someone you are meeting for the first time in real life is not going to be a serial killer. Nicole was just as awesome and warm and funny as I knew she'd be! She and Tara came over for dinner at my house on Thursday night and we had a blast and drank champagne. Wait, who's running a race? Surely not us!

Friday night, the group grew even more as Danica flew in from Long Beach and we hit up the local watering hole that Tara & I frequent. Then we decided it was a good idea to go to the local greasy diner. There were mozzarella sticks, fries and sundaes to be had. Mozzarella sticks were dunked into sundaes. Let's just leave it there. Wait, who's running a race?

Saturday, we all regrouped to make the drive up to Sacramento together.

On the way up, we realized that Nicole had never been to In-N-Out! Guess where we stopped for lunch? All together now: Wait, who's running a race? But boy, was it delicious.


We checked into our hotel, and headed down to the expo, which was only 3-4 blocks away. As soon as we started walking, we all got a bit scared I think. It was pretty freakin' cold. According to my phone, it was about 40 degrees with 10mph winds. The cold went straight through my coat. Eff. The forecast predicted it would be around 28 degrees in Folsom for the 7am start. Double eff.

We chilled out in our hotel room before dinner by snuggling up in bed and watching college football.

  

I did my nails and then Aron and Amy came over to visit! We all sat/laid around and talked marathoning and it was so nice to just hang out doing not much. A bit later, we decided to walk down to CPK for dinner. It was REALLY cold now, since it was dark out and we knew we better prepare for the cold the next day. Forecast still predicted 27 degrees F and 3-10mph winds at the start. I had 2 Blue Moons with my tomato basil pizza because clearly, I'm not running a marathon tomorrow. I remember saying at dinner, 'I'm just ready for this to be behind me.'
 
 
Dinner ended up sitting just fine in my belly but….really? Sigh.


We were all in bed by about 9 or so, and I had a pretty easy night of sleep considering.  The alarm went off at 3:45 and we were up.

And it was COLD.  We bundled up in all our layers, got our race bags ready and headed down to the lobby to wait for the bus.

   
There is nothing quite like riding the bus from the finish area of the race out to the starting line when it’s point-to-point.  It feels far.  It feels like it takes forever.  It dawns on you that you may be crazy.

On the bus ride, we all shake up our Hot Hands, because it’s going to be cold. REALLY cold.  27 degrees F cold.

There’s a jumble of madness at this point.  We get off the bus to use the port-o-potties and then jumped back onto another bus just to keep warm.  I take off all my added layers and stick my Hot Hands packets into my gloves and into the back of my arm warmers.  I step off the bus and am instantly freezing. This is going to be a long day.  Danica and I head to the bag check trucks, where we proceed to lose Nicole and Tara.  The gear check seemed really unorganized and people are just tossing their stuff into one of 2 trucks. There is conflicting information as to which #s go in which truck, so I hold up my bag to the guy on the truck and he signals for me to throw it in, that it’s my truck.  For a second, I really want to just jump into the back of the truck myself and ride it to the finish.

Danica and I stand around and look for Nicole and Tara and then decide we’ll just pick a spot for the start and not worry about it at this point.  They sing the national anthem, I start my hour-and-18-minute-continuous-Michael-Jackson-mix that I’ve been saving for this race and cross the start mat. 

Par for the course, I start off way too fast (sub-10) and run straight through the first 3 miles.  I run into Sandra, say hi and wish her good luck, and proceed to slow my @ss down.  I KNOW I’m going too fast now, because girl was trying to beat 4:15.  I’m just trying to not die and not DNF.  After 3 miles, I decide I need to start taking my walking breaks.  I need to not cramp up and I need my legs to last me the remaining 23.2 miles.  So I start to run 1 mile, walk 1 min, repeat.  By mile 8, I’m feeling Malibu on my legs.  I’m already tired.  My shoulders, arms and back are sore and I realize it’s because I’m tucking everything in and tensing up because it’s so cold.  I try to relax and stretch everything during my walk breaks, but I know it’s going to be a long road.

CIM is a net downhill, which really could be described more accurately as ‘non-stop rolling hills.’  Up, down, up, down.  Walk 1 min. Up, down, up, down. Walk 1 min.  After feeling poopy at mile 8, I miraculously get a second wind from miles 14 to about 18.5.  Then….I hit the wall. HARD.  (That’s what she said.)  I kept telling myself that all I needed was to see the mile 20 marker and then I’d know I’d finish, no matter what. 18.5 to 19 felt eternal.  19 to 20 felt even longer.  A cold wind was blowing through this part of the course and I was going VERY slowly.  Somehow though, I walked only during my walking breaks.  It was slow-going however.

At mile 20, I felt confident that I’d finish, but now I just wanted it over with.  I started making deals with myself to keep running and walk only during the scheduled breaks.  At mile 20, I told myself I could text my sister at the next mile marker and see how Aron did in her goal to BQ.  Mile 21, I text my sister (who was tracking everyone) and she instantly replies that Aron’s time online is listed at EXACTLY 3:40:59.  My eyes well up with tears and I remind myself that there is no crying in marathoning!  

At mile 22, I let myself text Danica.  At mile 23, I let myself text Tara.  At mile 24, I get to read the text replies.  At about mile 24.5, I decide that I am no longer allowed to walk. No matter how much it hurts, I’m so close and I just want to GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY!  I am dying.  My lower back and shoulders are killing me.  My legs are heavy with lactic acid.  I’m still as frozen as I was at the start.  It’s time to git ‘er done.

I pass 28 people in those last non-stop miles and I’m excited every time.  Every person is a motivation to not take a walking break.  I’m not letting any of those 28 people ahead of me. 

I hit the 26 mile marker and I shoot out of the canon and it hurts and I’m tired and cold and HUNGRY and I vow to not sign up for another marathon until Fall and I vow to lose a few pounds and I vow to be nice to my legs and be kind to my fellow man and all that crap as long as I can be put out of this misery!

And then I cross the mat, and get a medal and a space blanket and a pancake and it’s over.  It wasn’t pretty.  But marathon #7 is complete.

Time = 5:27:32   (new PW and I don’t care!)

   
(Danica and I like to do eyepatches with our medals. 

See?  That’s the SFM half.)

Thank you to everyone for your support on my previous (and very whiney) post…I cowgirl-ed up and got it done.

Since the race, I have not worked out one lick.  I have, however:
1. Drank lots of beer.
2. Drank lots of wine.
3. Eaten lots of pizza.
4. Eaten lots of kettle chips.
5. Watched a lot of tv.

Thank you for reading!

Burn out, part deux

I have two MUCH MORE exciting posts in my drafts folder (IMAZ spectator report, and a random one) but first, allow me to whine for a bit:

I don't wanna run CIM. Waaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I have never been less excited about a marathon in all my life. I just want it to be Monday and have it all behind me. I've been burnt out since before Malibu, but I'm gonna just do it. I will run 1 mile and take 1 min walk breaks. It will be slow and it will drag on and on and on. But it will get done. Oh yes, it will get done.

But I don't WANNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

So how am I dealing with it? I'm pretending it's not happening. I'm pretending this is really a girls weekend, with an inconvenient little commitment on Sunday morning.

All I can hope for is for a similar race mentally as I had at Malibu. And to not die. Because the time? It will be slow. Let's just get it over with. I'm ready for zumba and kickboxing and yoga, oh my.

Suggestions, advice, tips are welcome. DNS is not a valid suggestion.

Sigh.

My friend, Jen

I'm finding it really hard to think of words that do justice to the kind of friend Jen has been to me. We trained and completed our very first marathon together. She has been my cheerleader and I have been hers. We have cried and we have laughed together. We've had many glasses of wine and pints of beer together. We've run hundreds of miles together. We have been there for each other's heartaches and triumphs.

Jen is doing something amazing this Sunday. She's amazed me a lot over the past few years, and I know this weekend will be no exception. That's just the kind of girl Jen is....a rockstar.





Link

If You Can't Be Fast, Be Fashionable - Malibu Marathon Race Report

I will save you the drama and let you know that this was my weirdest race ever. It was also my PW.

Time = 5:19:28
Pace = 12:11 <--- seriously?


And yet, it was probably the most mentally calm race that I have ever had. Sure, I couldn't wait for it to be over, but it wasn't like I was struggling between taking walking breaks and keeping myself going. My hip flexors could NOT run any faster and I needed to take a lot of walking breaks. I could feel the missing weeks of training on my legs, so I just took the breaks. I was fine with it. Strange, because that's usually where I struggle the most, mentally, and I talk myself into not pushing it. Here, I just knew I didn't have the training and I took it in stride.


The starting line of this race was actually kind of fun, since there were all of 400 people running the full marathon. It was very low key and it was pretty cold out. Tara, Danica and I ended up on the bus where the driver had a death wish and crashed into the curb. It was so loud and I swear he almost lost his front bumper, but other than that, he managed to get us to the start. I struggled with keeping my arm warmers or not, and finally decided to leave them. Glad I did. It got warm really quick.

Here we are while we still had our arm warmers on.
I don't think this picture does justice to the poof of our tutus.

Double-fisting water bottles at 6:30am. Lovely.
This pic shows the poof-factor we had going on much better I think!

Miles 1-10 run you around the Camarillo farmland area. It was uneventful and kind of blah as we made our way to the coast. At the coast, we were treated with great views and HUGE GUSTS OF WIND. There were a few times when it pushed me back a step. Well this is going to be a long marathon.



I was running 1 mile and taking 1 min walking breaks in between. It was working very well for saving my legs, since I knew I was underprepared. Every mile was still coming in between 10:30 and 10:45 at this point and I was happy.



Miles 10-18 were pretty and along the coast, with a bit of rolling but nothing major. We ran along the Pacific Coast Highway, on the shoulder and a coned off section of the road. Along with the huge gusts of wind, came the kicking up of dirt from along the shoulder and kicking up of sand from the beach. And it was sunny, right in your face the entire time. I think I ran 26.2 miles squinting.



The other difficult thing about this marathon is that, although the views of the ocean are beautiful, there is very little spectator support. There were some families that were out cheering for their runners. Some of them would cheer for everyone, some of them would not. The volunteers at the race were amazing though, very friendly and supportive. Walking through the waterstops was so nice because of this support and it would have felt VERY lonely out there without them.



About mile 18, my hip flexors were tired and burning. They were done. They wanted to stop running. I started taking 1 min walking breaks every 1/2 mile, but my pace while running slowed WAY down, especially on the uphills. Because did I mention this race starts to get SUPER HILLY in the last 8 miles? Cruel. However, as I said, mentally I felt ok. I knew I was tired, I knew I had had less training, I knew the course would get hilly at the end and I knew my hip flexors were mad. So I just went with it and ran what I could. At about mile 22, I got myself a running buddy and I was SO grateful for the company on the course. That's when it really hit me how spread thin such a small race could get. It was so nice to have someone to run with and to run me in. Miles 18-26.2 were in 'git 'er done' mode.

My sister and her fiancé got some great shots during and after the race.
Here's the finish line! Man, a finish line has never looked sweeter, I don't think.




Here comes Danica, barreling down that hill! Think she wants it over with?

There goes Tara! I'm thinking she wants it over with too!

Here is the sign my sister made for me! The 'women first' thing is something I used to say when I was maybe 8 or 9, basically a way to be a bossy feminist. At 9. Yeah, I was a 'special' kid.

Here is my sister, the best cheerleader in the world!
I am coming in right behind that trio, tutu flying!

I just want it over with. Put this ballerina out of her misery please.

I was never so happy to eat a banana in all my life.
That's what she said.

Someone decided we were a sweaty, hot messes
worthy enough of being interviewed.
Clearly the pink poofs were distracting enough.

Here we are, smiling nicely for the cameras and trying not to say,
"this course was a shit-show."

I love the port-o-potty backdrop of this shot. Classy.
Also classy is my dad on the right, about to hand me a beer. Hooray for dads!

At least the medals are pretty!

All in all, this race was just weird. I don't even know how I feel about it right now. I think maybe I'll let it soak a bit longer and come back with some coherent thoughts. One thing is for sure - marathon #6 is in the books, people.

I also want to say a quick hi to all the people I made friends with on this course! I gets lonely out there and I got to talking with quite a few of the full marathoners, so HI if you're reading this: barefoot runner guy, guy running his first marathon who was covered in champagne at the end, Marathon Maniac girl and 100 Marathon Club man, and also the guy with an injured knee running Vegas in 3 weeks (have a great race!) A special hi to Theresa (Teresa?) who saw my name on my shirt and knew my blog!


Thank you for reading and happy running!

Malibu in a Tutu

On Sunday, I will be lacing up my running shoes and adjusting the bow on my tutu for the Inaugural Malibu International Marathon. This will be marathon #6 for me and probably the one I feel most underprepared for, although CIM in 2006 was pretty craptastic. Can't be worse than that, right? RIGHT?

I don't have any race goals for this marathon really, other than to not die anywhere along the course or get swept out into the Pacific Ocean. I think I can manage it, especially with the help of my girls, Tara and Danica who will be running it as well, and with my family waiting for me at the finish line!

Dear Dad,

Please have chilled Coronas at the finish.

Love,

Your Daughter

I do have a race strategy to avoid hurting myself, which is to take walking breaks through the water stops. I'll be Galloway-ing this bad boy to avoid injury and minimize post-marathon pain and recovery. I got in a two 14's, a 16, and an 18 miler in before the surgery hiatus, so I'm hoping it's enough paired with walking breaks to not lead to a PW.

I mean, if anything the tutu will keep me going. Because who craps out in a tutu, for crying out loud?

Let's git 'er done!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!