NYC 2010 Qualifying Race #7: Dash 10K, June 13, 2009

PR!!!

I ran the Dash in 57:08. So very excited. A nice birthday gift to myself!

That said, this race was hard for me. My last two, the Healthy Kidney 10K and the Brooklyn Half, felt great. Today was humid and I've been fighting the end of a cold for weeks, and it was driving me nuts for the last two miles of this.

The course was largely uphill, which I knew it would be, but ouch. I could really have used the lost-but-not-forgotten Splash part of this race afterwards, too - so very sweaty.

But I set out with a goal of finishing a 10K in under an hour, and I did it. So I can't be too disappointed, although I think a new goal for the summer will be to improve my speed as well as my strength as a runner. Every time I try to run fast, I have zero stamina and it's frustrating. Good for marathons, but I'm not generally running marathons.

Dash, no Splash

I almost titled this post WTF, NYRR? So I will pose that question again: WTF, NYRR?

A few weeks ago I signed up for the New York Road Runners Dash & Splash 10K - a marathon qualifier - for the day before my birthday next weekend. The race was supposed to involve running a loop of Central Park and then jumping into Lasker Pool afterward. Dash, then splash. Get it? I got it. And I was really excited about it. I love to swim. I love to run. I love the idea of combining the two and celebrating my birthday in the process.

Now I had gone on the New York City parks department website a while back looking for information on the city public pools. I use the Sunset Park pool in the summers for lap swimming/cross training and I have great love for it, so I was looking to see when I could start using it this year. The Parks Department site said the pools open for the season on June 27. So I figured NYRR had permission to open Lasker up for the runners who registered for the race.

Then I went on the NYRR website this week, to discover that the Dash & Splash is now the Dash. Someone there apparently realized the pool would not actually be open.

I'm really angry. Maybe a lot of people who do these races have a lot of disposable income, but I don't, and I pick and choose my races carefully. I specifically chose this one for the pool experience. Now it's just a regular old 10K in Central Park - I would have done the women's-only Mini 10K this weekend if I had known. Of course, NYRR won't let me switch, or give me a refund. It's a total waste of my $17. So I am just going to seethe a bit.

To add insult to injury, the NYRR website also says that "misting stations" will be available after the race. Hmph.

Look here for my certain-to-be-cranky race report next weekend...

NYC 2010 Qualifying Races #5 and #6: Healthy Kidney 10K, May 16, 2009 and the Brooklyn Half Marathon, May 30, 2009

Here's the story of two races, because your blogger is lazy.



I ran the Healthy Kidney 10K on May 16, a mere three weeks after my marathon. It was my first time doing anything other than a slow, lazy loop around Prospect Park since 26.2 (not counting the miles we ran while cheering on fellow Team in Training spring season folks at the New Jersey Marathon on May 3). Kelly and I drove to the race and ran it together, but failed to anticipate the lack of parking. No spaces ANYWHERE. It didn't help that I'd been running late that morning to meet her and felt terrible. We finally found a spot on the East Side, across the park from the race start, with five minutes to go until gun time and no quarters to be found on either of our persons or in the car. We called a friend to come fill the meter and ran. We later calculated that we ran a full additional mile to the starting line. It started raining on us halfway there (OF COURSE) so we jumped into the queue to cross the starting line soaking wet. Five minutes later, it stopped raining but all of us runners were soaked to the bone for the duration.

I enjoyed this race, mainly for the course, which was a full loop of Central Park that minimized the uphills. I love the uptown part of Central Park, which is quiet and woody and doesn't feel like an urban park at all.

The race took us about an hour to complete at our post-marathon recovery pace and we ended up getting a parking ticket for our troubles - our friend arrived just as the ticket was being written. But, we finished, we felt good and we got another qualifier under our proverbial belts. The tech t-shirt souvenirs were nice. And more people, presumably, have healthier kidneys.



The Brooklyn Half Marathon was yesterday. I had an unusual preparation strategy for this race, which went something like this:

5 weeks prior: Run full marathon in 92-degree heat and 67% humidity.

4 weeks prior: Run 7 miles with friend at the end of her full marathon in pouring rain and persistent chill (foreshadowing. That means keep reading.). Begin running slow 3-mile loops in park with friend.

3 weeks prior: Run 10-K (see: Healthy Kidney 10K saga, above). Continue running in park. Begin taking circuit training class that consists of running uphill holding water bottles and a lot of pushups. Question sanity.

2 weeks prior: Run 7 miles through Brooklyn and across Manhattan Bridge with friends. Become winded. At end of week, run 5-mile loop in Prospect Park, successfully and without massive exhaustion. Sign up for Brooklyn Half Marathon. Plan to run an 8- or even 10-miler beforehand.

1 week prior: Become sick. Go home from work sick the next day. Call out of work sick the day after that. Cough up both lungs to the consternation of several coworkers when you do return to work.

Two days prior: Take the kind of cold medicine that makes you contemplate flying out of your office window (the kind you can only buy behind the pharmacy counter because SOME PEOPLE decided to make meth out of it, that's how awesome it is). Under influence of aforementioned cold medicine, make plans to meet up with lots of people at Brooklyn Half Marathon.

One day prior: Stop taking cold medicine because the heat advisory on the New York Road Runners website calls out pseudoephedrine, aka the meth-maker, as a dehydrator. Foiled again! Drink lots and lots of water. Miss speed-y feeling. Understand meth addicts. Cough. Write gently mocking Facebook status about how New York Road Runners thinks 77 degrees Fahrenheit is hot, and how you ran a marathon in 92-degree heat, haha, in an attempt to psych yourself up. Cough.

Morning of: Exit apartment. Think, hmmm, it is warm out. Comfort self by knowing that New York Road Runners posted that heat advisory, and thus will be out in force with extra water and Gatorade and misters (more foreshadowing). Smugly chuckle, thinking of Nashville.

I met my friend Alex and her friend Michelle at the 15th Street entrance to Prospect Park at 7:15 and we headed to bagcheck. Bagcheck was my first sign that New York Road Runners might have underestimated the wave of humanity that was running the Brooklyn Half. It wasn't disorganized, but the people manning the checkpoints seemed overwhelmed. I saw a lot of TNTers along the way, which was nice, and we all wished each other good luck.

Alex, Michelle and I got into our starting corral, which seemed to be for everyone who had signed up with a pace time over 8 minutes. That was a lot of people. It took us about 20 minutes to cross the starting line. The first wave of runners passed us while we were still waiting, in fact.

At one point during the endless patter of runners making it to the starting mat, a familiar, heavily Brooklyn-accented voice rose over the din. Alex and I turned to each other and said, "Is that Marty Markowitz?" Indeed, it was Marty himself on the mike, welcoming runners to his fiefdom.

I made the mistake just before the start line of bypassing a Port-a-Potty, which came back to haunt me about three miles later.

The first few miles were good. Tackled the North Hill in the park with no problem. Even made it around the morale-sucking lower stretch of the park still feeling cheerful. Appreciated the separation of the faster runners (those who lapped us at the start) from those of us who still had to go up the North Hill again here.

Second time up the North Hill, the siren call of the Port-a-Potty became too much to handle (or was that just the smell, which you could detect from the road?) and I veered off, telling Alex and Michelle I'd see them at the finish. I estimate that this took me about 10 minutes, but there's no way to know for sure since although I was wearing a watch, I didn't actually look at it the entire race. I passed Coach Lisa and MK somewhere around here, as well as some of the Pace 4 Success girls.

Then it was around to the South Hill. I wanted to stop for some water here before exiting the park and hitting the shadeless stretch of Ocean Parkway. When I got to the water table, I got elbowed, hard, in the back by some guy who reached over my head (not an easy feat) and grabbed one of the few cups that was resting on the table away from me. Thanks, dude. And then I realized - there was nothing else on the table. No Gatorade, no water. One woman said that the faster people had drunk everything. Um, so the slow runners get screwed? The volunteers were basically just standing around looking overwhelmed and not getting out the cups. At this point people were just reaching into the Gatorade and water barrels themselves and scooping out what they needed. I felt badly for anyone running this race for time, since I'm sure they either lost valuable minutes here or risked dehydration by skipping it entirely. I took a Gu on my way out of the park.

Out on Ocean Parkway was where I'd anticipated hitting a morale dip. Surprisingly, I still felt great. The water stations continued to suck and I was glad I was carrying my own Gatorade. I saw Alex again and we ran together for a bit until she stopped to stretch. I stopped once to adjust my shoelaces because I felt blisters forming. I saw Jasmine just before mile 10 and she said I looked great. Then I saw the sign that said "Misting Station Ahead." Misting station! All right! The awesome misting stations in Nashville totally saved Kelly and me. We had run through these giant sprinkler setups several times and used them to wet our hats along the way. I was all ready to forgive NYRR for the water station debacles. And then.

I got to the "misting station" only to find that it was ONE GUY. HOLDING A FIRE HOSE. UPRIGHT (since you obviously can't blast a crowd with a fire hose). I even asked him if he was the misting station, and he sheepishly answered that he was. He did soak my hat, though. I laughed myself silly for another couple of miles and then realized I had passed the 12-mile marker and was in the homestretch, baby!

I saw Pamela and Melanie here - Melanie wasn't officially running, but she got us up on the boardwalk and Pamela and I ran in together. Lots of crowd support on the boardwalk, and the Coney Island publicity people did a good job of fixing the accidents-waiting-to-happen that were all the loose boards along here.

I finished in what NYRR tells me was 2:26, but if I subtract my restroom stop I end up with something around 2:16-2:20, I think. Pretty awesome for someone still in marathon recovery, no?

The finish area was chaotic but I got my stuff, made sure Pamela was OK (she had a massive blister), saw Alex, and met up with Jess and Erin and Chris. Jess, Erin and I ran into the freezing-cold Atlantic to ice our legs, and then got some fried food. Good times, all considered. I really had a fabulous run - never really felt tired or hurt or over- or under-hydrated. I would run this again in a heartbeat, but hope that NYRR gets its act together before next year and makes for better water stops and a more organized area at the start and at the finish.

Marathon Finisher

It's been a while since I updated. The month of April is a blur in my mind. Since last I checked in, I have: attended my 15-year high school reunion; run 20 miles in my hometown; run 14 miles in the Brooklyn rain; come in second place in a fundraiser scavenger hunt; seen my parents twice in four weeks; read six books; written an article; eaten banana pudding, barbecue and fried chicken, not all at the same time nor in the same place; and oh yeah, RUN A MARATHON.

It took me 5 hours and 17 minutes, but I did it. I did it in 90-degree heat with 67% humidity, which according to Coach Lisa is a heat index of 102 Fahrenheit. I did it in Nashville, a city I love, with my husband and my parents watching. I did it by dumping cups of water over my head and down my neck from mile 14 on, even though it washed the sunblock off my left shoulder and resulted in some attractive ring-of-fire chafing around my left armpit (I'm right-handed, which I'm assuming is why my right side was not similarly afflicted. Note to self: switch hands.). I did it with electrolyte tablets, which I'm convinced are the best things ever since they taste like Gatorade but are kind of pleasantly fizzy , and they contain no sugar so they eliminate that sugar-coated tongue feeling Gatorade brings on when you drink it during a long run. I did by eating three salt packets along the course. I did it by eating six Gus in alternating chocolate and vanilla flavors. I did it after being serenaded by a suspiciously chipper man running the same 26.2 miles in the same heat while carrying a banjo. I did it without killing the guy at mile 6 holding a sign that said "FREE BEER: 20 MILES."

We had to wake up really, really early because the race started at 7 a.m. and the shuttle to the start line left at 4:30. Even typing this now, it makes me laugh. 4:30! Haha! So I got up at 3 a.m. (more laughter) with the help of my cellphone, the hotel alarm clock and a Southern-accented wake-up call. I had only slept for about four hours because I was still adrenalinized from the Team in Training pasta party and the team meeting we held after that, and had ended up dancing around my hotel room to the running mix on my iPod while laying out my clothes for the race. I also made Steve get up at 3, which he did with minimal grumbling. We dropped our bags off in Kelly's room and headed for the hotel lobby.

Despite the crank factor of the early wake-up and early shuttle, it was really nice to get to Centennial Park in Nashville with the first group of runners. Notably, we had time to eat our peanut-butter sandwiches and use the Port-a-Potties two or three times before the lines got huge. This race was really well organized, I have to say - no lines for bag check and the corral system and wave start made things very easy.

Kelly and I got to our corral, stretched a little and laughed at the girl behind us who was supposedly running the full marathon with artfully mussed hair, tight shorts and six gels stuffed into the front of her sports bra. Team in Training has instilled a little bit of snobbery in me, I guess.

The race officially started at 7. At approximately 7:01, Kelly and looked at each other and determined that we had to pay another visit to the Port-a-Potties. So we sneaked out of our corrals and jumped back in with no problem. At 7:34, we crossed the start line. And my parents and Steve were right there! Awesome. So nice to see them so early on.

The first four miles ran us through downtown Nashville, past the honky-tonks and the Country Music Hall of Fame and up to Music Row, where all the big companies have their studios. There were some hills but honestly, having trained in Prospect Park for a year and run the Nike Half in San Francisco, it barely registered to me that I was running uphill. It should also be noted that it was only (only!) about 75 degrees out at this point. The next seven miles or so went through a residential area where my sister used to live. Lots of spectators, very pretty. Saw my parents and Steve again around mile 5. It got steadily hotter and hotter but this area had a decent amount of shade.

We hit downtown Nashville again and at mile 11, the half-marathoners peeled off from the hardy souls running the full. I won't lie, this was sort of a low point, morale-wise. The half marathon at this event is HUGE, more than 20,000 of the 30,000 registered runners, and you could see LP Stadium and hear the finish line in the not-so-distant distance. There was no shade, and it was more than 80 out. We pressed on.

Mile 13, the halfway mark. Saw my parents and Steve again, and they said they'd see us at the finish. My mom produced a magical bottle of Gatorade out of thin air (OK, maybe out of her huge purse) and refilled my water bottle, which was delightful. Banjo Guy serenaded us. We ran past the TNT NYC coaches and coordinators again around this point as well.

At Mile 14 we started the ritual dumping of water over the head and down the shirt. The course went through another neighborhood and then into an industrial park, and finally along a trail along the river. This was very pretty but holy hot. On the way out of the park we passed a bank sign informing us that it was 82 degrees out and Kelly sagely pointed out that they should have turned those off.

Mile 18 was uphill. Enough said.

At Mile 20, we passed LP Stadium again. So cruel! Kelly's friend Janeen jumped in with us. Then we saw my parents and Steve again! Total surprise. I assured them that I was fine. They said I looked great.

At Mile 21, on yet another uphill stretch, Coach Lisa jumped in with us. I walked through a water stop, drenched myself and then suggested to Lisa that we walk a little bit further. She indulged me for a mile or so as I caught my breath and as Kelly and Janeen ran on ahead. We chatted our way into a park and ran into another TNT BK'er in there. Lisa encouraged us both to try running again. I hyperventilated. DAMN IT. Lisa told me to try again. Success!

Mile 26. Lisa left me to fend for myself on the remaining .2. If you are thinking that .2 is not very far, you are wrong. It is very, very far indeed. I was in a Zone, not looking at anyone around me. I heard my name yelled (turns out it was Steve), but couldn't look up or over.

Finish line. I ran over it with my arms and face up, a nice change from all the race photos of me with my head down. Then I started crying. I smiled to get my medal and for the obligatory medal photo and check-in at the TNT tent. Then I couldn't find my parents and Steve. When I finally did locate them, hanging out in lawn chairs under a tree (!), I started crying again. I managed to compose myself, change into less smelly/wet clothing and flipflops, make some introductions and get into my dad's car for the ride to our big lunch at the Loveless.

There was fried chicken and fried okra and cheese grits for lunch and lots of partying that night.

I still can't really believe that I ran a marathon. After so many years of unhealthy eating habits and periods of lethargy interspersed with gym-rat bursts, I can finally call myself an athlete. Pretty crazy for someone who couldn't run a mile in high school (although, to be fair, I could swim a mile, but the Presidential Fitness Test didn't care about that).

But what amazes me most is that I set a goal for myself over a year ago to become more fit and healthy, and a running program was part of that. And now I've not only learned to run, but I ran a marathon. I MET A GOAL. I am not usually very good with follow-through. Running this marathon makes me wonder what else I can do if I just decide to do it. I'd like to find out.

TNT BK Practice, March 28, 2009: 19 Miles

I'm writing this post super late because I am still embarrassed about this run. I was doing well for 18 miles of it, over three bridges, through Chinatown and downtown Brooklyn and around Prospect Park. Then I got to the 19th mile, faced down the North Hill, and...hyperventilated.

Yes, that's right, I'm scared of the North Hill. The North Hill intimidates me. When faced with the North Hill at the 19th mile of a 19-mile run, I very nearly chose to sit on a curb until the rest of my group went home, then skulk on home myself. I did not do this. Instead, I tried to give myself a pep talk, which failed miserably, and then my calf started to hurt, and then all I could think about was my calf. And then I realized I couldn't breathe. And then all I could think about was not being able to breathe. The worst.

I ended up calling Coach Lisa out of desperation, and she came and rescued me on her bicycle and followed me as I chugged up the stupid hill. It turns out that I was one of three TNT BK'ers who hyperventilated last Saturday. This made it feel less weird, but no less awkward. Can I run this marathon? I hate when I doubt myself.

TNT BK Practice, March 21, 2009

I have, temporarily at least (but hopefully permanently) triumphed over my IT band.

I ran 16 miles today, from Prospect Park to Coney Island, along the boardwalk and back to my apartment. It felt GREAT, even the part on the way back along Ocean Parkway where you start wondering if 26 letters of the alphabet were really necessary, and envying the Italians because they don't have Y, W or J in regular usage.

My knee didn't give me any problems, nothing twinged or pinged or popped. I felt strong. I'm relieved that all the stretching and icing and rolling and Aleve has actually done me some good, and even more relieved that I stuck to the plan even though nothing feels sillier than rolling out your leg on a giant piece of styrofoam every morning while watching the Rail & Road Report on NY1.

Victory over the IT is mine! (In other news, I am not a crook.)

TNT Practice, March 14, 2009

That's hot, right?

I'm injured. IT band syndrome. Lots of knee pain. This was my first attempt at running in a few weeks (I'm choosing not to count last week, when I ran halfway up the Manhattan Bridge before feeling like I'd been shot through the knee, then limped back home).

Today I attempted more of a run-walk thing, since TNT BK was doing a cutback week in Prospect Park. The downhills hurt more than the uphills, and I chose to walk anything remotely hilly. I did run a few flat stretches and was feeling pretty great for a while there. Mostly it was just nice to get some exercise.

I went to physical therapy this week, where I discovered that my IT band syndrome is related largely to...tight glutes. Yes, that's right, I'm literally a tight-ass. My hamstrings are also super tight. So I'm on a grueling regimen of stretching and foam-rolling, plus icing and Aleve to reduce the inflammation. I am refusing to let myself think I won't be on that course in Nashville, because I WILL, dammit.

But in the meantime, my IT band can totally suck it.