Eat Drink Run Woman

You’ll have to bear with me — I’m writing this with a VERY big head. My darling couldn’t stand my crowing any more; he’s now hiding in the bedroom pretending to take a nap. But since this is my blog, I can say and do what ever I want. And right now I feel like shouting out:

I KICKED SOME SERIOUS ASS TODAY!

Sure, the results may say 292 other runners kicked MY ass, but I will interpret the results as I see fit. And considering I not only PR’d, I also BEAT my goal of a 1:54 half marathon. My final time? 1:53:35 thankyouverymuch. And on a hilly course to boot. 14th in my age group (out of 104 runners), 293rd overall (out of 1050). WOOP WOOP!

I have been stressing over this race ever since I drove the course a couple weeks ago. It was the second “tune up” race of my training and I think I was just nervous that my results would tell me I was smoking crack rock for thinking I could run a full marathon in 4 hours. Mind you, I DO smoke crack rock — how do you think I’ve gotten so fast over the past few weeks? — but I know that doesn’t guarantee a BQ.

I kid, people! Sheesh. Everyone knows meth is the key to a BQ. (Mom and Dad, if you’re reading this, I am TOTALLY kidding. It’s just my little way of entertaining my legion of fan).

My stress intensified when I started having problems with my lower right leg. My calf was extremely tight and I had developed a bit of a shin splint. It got so bad on Thursday I had to cut my 11-mile run short. I still managed to get in 7 1/2 miles, but when I could only run 10 1/2 min/mile during a downhill stretch I knew I was in trouble. I iced my calf and took some Vitamin-I and on Friday my leg felt much better.

I planned on driving the course once more (I wanted to measure the distance of each hill), plus I was going to run that day’s 6 miles on the hilliest part. However, I encountered a bunch of road construction on that portion, so I decided to just head back home and run on my old standby, Greenlake. My pace was still pretty slow — 9:22 overall, but my leg loosened up after a mile.

I rested up on Saturday, making sure to take in plenty of fluids. I allowed myself a couple of glasses of wine during my dinner with fellow personal chefs that evening, but I made sure to drink water in between. As usual, I didn’t get the best night’s sleep, but fortunately I awoke rather refreshed.

My darling decided to sit this one out as far as racing goes, however, he ran as a bandit to provide me with moral support. He was my designated sherpa/kid hand slapper (I didn’t want to risk losing precious seconds weaving off the course).

When I looked out the window to see blue patches of sky I decided to wear lightweight shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. But thankfully I also packed my lightweight rain jacket as it was pretty cold and windy at the start. I took a half-mile warmup run, stretched, visited the port-o-pottys a couple of times and then lined up in-between the 8- and 9-minute mile pace banners.

The first half of the race is the hilliest, and there’s a quarter-mile hill within the first half mile. But since I was anal-retentive and drove the course twice, I knew what to expect. The hill warmed me up, so I handed my coat to my darling to carry (I just have to say, my husband is THE BEST!) Another quarter-mile hill came up about a mile after that, then the longest of the hills — a little over .75 miles — came toward the end of mile 3. Mile 4 was my slowest — 9 min/mile — but still within my goal.

I glanced at Garmin at the halfway mark to see 57:37. Knowing the second half was mostly downhill I felt pretty confident I’d hit my mark. I was feeling really strong and my leg wasn’t giving me any grief. I staved off the dizziness that plagued me during the Mercer Island Half by taking in plenty of Gatorade.

Just when I thought I’d hit my last hill just after mile 11 the course took a different turn than what I expected. I had picked up my pace considerably on the downhill, only to see one more little blip to conquer. Fortunately it was no match for me and once over that, it was indeed downhill all the way. My 13th mile was my fastest at 8:09.

While I don’t want to be cocky, according to McMillan my 1:53:35 finish translates into 3:59:33 full marathon. Let me say it again: WOOP WOOP!