Well. I've been waiting a long time to write this post. It's been 3 weeks, or 4 months, or perhaps even 8 years. You pick. And because my love for Dan Reynolds is getting embarrassing, we'll just keep with the Imagine Dragons theme and leave it at that, sound good?
The story here begins back in 2011, when I set my half marathon PR at Flower City. 1:50:09, to be exact. You know darn well I spent way too much time belly aching about 10 seconds, right? Getting upset that I ran 13.25 (learn to run tangents, Rae!) and over analyzing data on my $30 timex (just kidding, that was pre garmin days when I suspect I was muchdumber happier about my racing endeavors.
I tried half heartedly to best this goal a few times in 2012, got stuck in baby mode in 2013, turned to ultra training in 2014, lather, rinse repeat in 2015-2016, and I don't know what the hell I did in 2017 except it's all a bit of a blur. Enter 2018, Ironman training, and another dumb attempt to break 1:50 at Oak Tree Half Marathon - a day that ended up being 90 degrees yet I still PRed with a 1:50:03 which was...another course that was not conducive to a PR and also really frustrating.
As many smart athletes would do, I shelved the PR attempt and instead decided to try to run a full marathon in 3:35, which was less than double my half PR (did I mention I spectacularly failed AP calculus, which means I have absolutely no concept of derivatives, integrals and limits? (That last part might be good.))
Even though this was probably a foolish goal, its so far made my 2019 season a smashing success - which was part of the problem. In training for my full, I ran a series of training runs that netted me several (4 in fact) half marathon PRs - a 1:45, 1:43, 1:42 and 1:41:27. But these DIDN'T COUNT. I then ran a full that netted a half of 1:45, which also was never logged at an official race split.
This was a problem (Clearly, I have no concept of problems, am I right??) Post marathon, as I blogged about, I ran into a series of niggling injuries - some related to my failure to recover properly (see above for my idiocy) and for reasons I've finally figured out, a crappy foot injury that left me unable to walk, let alone run. With perfect hindsight, I'm aware the problem started with my switch to new shoes -I'm sad to say it took me a good 3 weeks to figure that out and I wasted a lot of curse words and anger dealing with it. However, I did, on a whim, sign up for Flower City 2019 to see what I could do (this would be on a "sure I can run" day). I'll admit I was antsy. I didn't do what I wanted to at Coffee Milk and wanted redemption. Most of my friends were running. And I wanted that half PR.
It was a dumb move. Two days before the race I had a breakdown with a good friend who talked some sense into me and reminded me that for the first time, I trained and raced to my potential, was thwarted by a crappy contingency plan, and was still recovering and to take it easy on myself. I'm pretty sure there was some discussion about moving to an island away from stress to train and become a professional, and even some talk of my own YouTube channel (clearly he has not seen my dance moves, and thank goodness for that).
Somehow, it shook sense into me, and I ditched the rest of my workout Friday, took Saturday off from running, working out, and basically even walking. I iced, I elevated, and I prayed. I decided to spectate the race if I couldn't run and reminded myself that one race was not the be all end all of everything.
Clearly I have some kind of guardian angel that takes pity on me, because I woke up race morning with minimal pain and the thought that I could at least start the race. My friends Maria and Marcus were awesome enough to carpool with me, and we arrived to the race site to find light rain, low thirties and minimal wind. While my co-athletes stressed about the weather, I was focused on something I haven't been focused on in awhile - the mere hope to get to the finish line. As we entered the arena I stared at it, just hoping to make it 13.1.
As far as races go, Flower City is almost as big of a party as Running of the Green. I saw my RWB teammates, a ton of fellow triathletes, my neighbor, a former co-worker, a bunch of running buddies, and of course, the Escort from my Sunday IBR jaunts. (Spoiler alert - he did not act as my escort during the race - next time I need to up my speed game!)
I abandoned my normal pre race routine of stretching and favored the sit and baby my foot method - I was taking no chances. I downgraded my PR goal to a "lets not die" A goal, with a moonshot of a 1:45, which I figured was reasonable given the fact that I was on the tail end of marathon recovery and, well, I basically had concerns about walking. No one said it had to make sense.
The Escort and I walked to the start line about 7:20 and I ended up lining up with the 8 minute milers. I did a lot of last minute praying that I wouldn't have to take the 2.5 mile bail out I found, and before I knew it, the gun sounded and we were off!
I had decided not to look at my watch until the mile markers and to just be grateful I was out there at all. We started out downhill and ran under the American flag and I took a moment to thank the higher being that I was even out here at all. It really is a beautiful thing.... you don't even think about until you realize its not something you take for granted - the ability to be out there among thousands of people, doing what you love.
About a quarter mile in I found a familiar face and started to run with the Boy (in case you're totally confused, he pals around with the Banter, who also has 400 nicknames, but for the sake of this story, we can just leave it at that). The Boy is one member of the group I haven't really had a chance to get to know, so we figured out pretty quickly that our paces worked really well together and hung together to keep each other on point. We ticked off the first four miles at a pretty consistent 7:30-7:40 pace, which felt comfortably hard, but with enough in the tank to chat about work, life, his upcoming wedding, and a master plan involving a new app for triathletes to meet up to train - still working out the kinks on the name, what sounded good at mile 5 no longer seems appropriate...). Ahem.
We hit the first 10k in 46:25 and I was feeling pretty awesome. Then the hills began. I lost the boy about mile 7 at the top of the first hill and told him to not let me catch him (I'm pretty sure he was distracted by the 4 foot tall dog cheering everyone on and the size of it's poops, but hey, I don't judge. We're runners. Everyone thinks about poop).
I slowed down somewhat for miles 7 and 8, taking the hills conservatively and letting loose a bit on the downhills. My foot felt decent, my legs were too cold to care about how they felt, and I kept reminding myself to just keep in control. Miles 9 and 10 were also pretty uneventful - aside from the cobblestone in Mt. Hope cemetery, the rollers didn't seem too bad. I popped in one of my ear buds and listened to some music, and was just so damned happy to be out there. I would lock up a bit, or start to breathe hard, or grab a cup of water and spill on my shoes....get annoyed for a second, breathe deep, and then smile. Because I GOT to be here. My foot was actually letting me run, and I was just
so grateful.
I hit mile 10 in 1:17:01 and knew most of the rest of the course was downhill. I hadn't allowed myself to even think about a time goal to pursue beyond the 1:45, and I knew at that point I totally had that. Hit mile 11 in 1:24:30 and I began to think a sun 1:40 was possible. Then I did the math and realized I had probably needed to consider that goal a bit earlier to make it happen. Still, I thought, why not give it a go? Hit mile 12 in 1:32 and kept myself under control up the last crest of a hill at Ford Street to bring it home.
As I pursued the finish line in the last kilometer, I started to get really damned emotional. I knew I was setting a huge PR and I was beyond thrilled. With less than a quarter mile to go, I heard one of my buddies yelling out my name from the sidewalk and I hit the gas full tilt. I was holding nothing back. I crossed the finish line in 1:40:19, for a total of 13.16 miles at 7:38 pace, a nearly 10 minute open half PR.
Oh. My. God. Marcus caught me shortly after I finished and listened to my ridiculous gibberish. The Escort, Matt, and my buddy Prem were all at the finish and we had a great round of hugs and my head probably will never recover to normal size after all of their kind words. The Boy (who finished his first stand alone half in 1:38) and the Outlaw (who is speedy and finished in 1:29) caught up with us and we did the mutual congratulations thing (apparently, the race is actually on for the next time when I am fully recovered - Boy, challenge accepted). We all went in to get warm and ring the PR bell - believe it or not, after 14 years of racing, this was my first time ever scoring a PR where there was a bell, so there's a first time for everything!
Post race we grabbed some pizza and beer and hung out with Rochester Running Company, then Marcus and Maria dropped me off at the Y to take the kids to swim lessons (who says you get to nap after a race?) It actually worked out well to get some of the lactic acid out of my legs, being in the water, though I'm not gonna lie, I'm sore as hell today. The one bonus is my foot seems to be doing well, so I'm optimistic the culprit was my new shoes!
Overall Stats:
Official Finish Time: 1:40:19 (7:38 pace)
Distance: 13.16
Age Group: 5th/127
Overall Women: 30th/887
Total Overall: 147/1596
To say that I'm beyond thrilled is a huge understatement. Another bonus:
The data. While I'm fast learning the importance of data and a race plan, I have to say I usually suck at going out conservatively and finishing strong. The proof that I executed this race well is evident in my overall pace - I nearly negative split the thing (49:57/50:22) and with all the hills on the back half, that's damn good. My first 3 miles were run in 22:46 and my last 3 miles were run in 22:27, with the last .16 at a 6:20 pace. I'd like to frame that as evidence I'll sorely need in 4 weeks when I toe the line at Buffalo....she can be taught!
Flower City - you gave me my long held PR 8 years ago, and once again, did not disappoint. I'm sorry to say I plan on breaking 1:40 before 2027, but if I don't do it this year, I'll catch ya in 2020!
The story here begins back in 2011, when I set my half marathon PR at Flower City. 1:50:09, to be exact. You know darn well I spent way too much time belly aching about 10 seconds, right? Getting upset that I ran 13.25 (learn to run tangents, Rae!) and over analyzing data on my $30 timex (just kidding, that was pre garmin days when I suspect I was much
I tried half heartedly to best this goal a few times in 2012, got stuck in baby mode in 2013, turned to ultra training in 2014, lather, rinse repeat in 2015-2016, and I don't know what the hell I did in 2017 except it's all a bit of a blur. Enter 2018, Ironman training, and another dumb attempt to break 1:50 at Oak Tree Half Marathon - a day that ended up being 90 degrees yet I still PRed with a 1:50:03 which was...another course that was not conducive to a PR and also really frustrating.
As many smart athletes would do, I shelved the PR attempt and instead decided to try to run a full marathon in 3:35, which was less than double my half PR (did I mention I spectacularly failed AP calculus, which means I have absolutely no concept of derivatives, integrals and limits? (That last part might be good.))
Even though this was probably a foolish goal, its so far made my 2019 season a smashing success - which was part of the problem. In training for my full, I ran a series of training runs that netted me several (4 in fact) half marathon PRs - a 1:45, 1:43, 1:42 and 1:41:27. But these DIDN'T COUNT. I then ran a full that netted a half of 1:45, which also was never logged at an official race split.
This was a problem (Clearly, I have no concept of problems, am I right??) Post marathon, as I blogged about, I ran into a series of niggling injuries - some related to my failure to recover properly (see above for my idiocy) and for reasons I've finally figured out, a crappy foot injury that left me unable to walk, let alone run. With perfect hindsight, I'm aware the problem started with my switch to new shoes -I'm sad to say it took me a good 3 weeks to figure that out and I wasted a lot of curse words and anger dealing with it. However, I did, on a whim, sign up for Flower City 2019 to see what I could do (this would be on a "sure I can run" day). I'll admit I was antsy. I didn't do what I wanted to at Coffee Milk and wanted redemption. Most of my friends were running. And I wanted that half PR.
It was a dumb move. Two days before the race I had a breakdown with a good friend who talked some sense into me and reminded me that for the first time, I trained and raced to my potential, was thwarted by a crappy contingency plan, and was still recovering and to take it easy on myself. I'm pretty sure there was some discussion about moving to an island away from stress to train and become a professional, and even some talk of my own YouTube channel (clearly he has not seen my dance moves, and thank goodness for that).
Somehow, it shook sense into me, and I ditched the rest of my workout Friday, took Saturday off from running, working out, and basically even walking. I iced, I elevated, and I prayed. I decided to spectate the race if I couldn't run and reminded myself that one race was not the be all end all of everything.
 |
| Marcus and his "women". Don't even get me started on this one... |
As far as races go, Flower City is almost as big of a party as Running of the Green. I saw my RWB teammates, a ton of fellow triathletes, my neighbor, a former co-worker, a bunch of running buddies, and of course, the Escort from my Sunday IBR jaunts. (Spoiler alert - he did not act as my escort during the race - next time I need to up my speed game!)
The Escort and I walked to the start line about 7:20 and I ended up lining up with the 8 minute milers. I did a lot of last minute praying that I wouldn't have to take the 2.5 mile bail out I found, and before I knew it, the gun sounded and we were off!
I had decided not to look at my watch until the mile markers and to just be grateful I was out there at all. We started out downhill and ran under the American flag and I took a moment to thank the higher being that I was even out here at all. It really is a beautiful thing.... you don't even think about until you realize its not something you take for granted - the ability to be out there among thousands of people, doing what you love.
About a quarter mile in I found a familiar face and started to run with the Boy (in case you're totally confused, he pals around with the Banter, who also has 400 nicknames, but for the sake of this story, we can just leave it at that). The Boy is one member of the group I haven't really had a chance to get to know, so we figured out pretty quickly that our paces worked really well together and hung together to keep each other on point. We ticked off the first four miles at a pretty consistent 7:30-7:40 pace, which felt comfortably hard, but with enough in the tank to chat about work, life, his upcoming wedding, and a master plan involving a new app for triathletes to meet up to train - still working out the kinks on the name, what sounded good at mile 5 no longer seems appropriate...). Ahem.
We hit the first 10k in 46:25 and I was feeling pretty awesome. Then the hills began. I lost the boy about mile 7 at the top of the first hill and told him to not let me catch him (I'm pretty sure he was distracted by the 4 foot tall dog cheering everyone on and the size of it's poops, but hey, I don't judge. We're runners. Everyone thinks about poop).
I slowed down somewhat for miles 7 and 8, taking the hills conservatively and letting loose a bit on the downhills. My foot felt decent, my legs were too cold to care about how they felt, and I kept reminding myself to just keep in control. Miles 9 and 10 were also pretty uneventful - aside from the cobblestone in Mt. Hope cemetery, the rollers didn't seem too bad. I popped in one of my ear buds and listened to some music, and was just so damned happy to be out there. I would lock up a bit, or start to breathe hard, or grab a cup of water and spill on my shoes....get annoyed for a second, breathe deep, and then smile. Because I GOT to be here. My foot was actually letting me run, and I was just
so grateful.
I hit mile 10 in 1:17:01 and knew most of the rest of the course was downhill. I hadn't allowed myself to even think about a time goal to pursue beyond the 1:45, and I knew at that point I totally had that. Hit mile 11 in 1:24:30 and I began to think a sun 1:40 was possible. Then I did the math and realized I had probably needed to consider that goal a bit earlier to make it happen. Still, I thought, why not give it a go? Hit mile 12 in 1:32 and kept myself under control up the last crest of a hill at Ford Street to bring it home.
As I pursued the finish line in the last kilometer, I started to get really damned emotional. I knew I was setting a huge PR and I was beyond thrilled. With less than a quarter mile to go, I heard one of my buddies yelling out my name from the sidewalk and I hit the gas full tilt. I was holding nothing back. I crossed the finish line in 1:40:19, for a total of 13.16 miles at 7:38 pace, a nearly 10 minute open half PR.
Oh. My. God. Marcus caught me shortly after I finished and listened to my ridiculous gibberish. The Escort, Matt, and my buddy Prem were all at the finish and we had a great round of hugs and my head probably will never recover to normal size after all of their kind words. The Boy (who finished his first stand alone half in 1:38) and the Outlaw (who is speedy and finished in 1:29) caught up with us and we did the mutual congratulations thing (apparently, the race is actually on for the next time when I am fully recovered - Boy, challenge accepted). We all went in to get warm and ring the PR bell - believe it or not, after 14 years of racing, this was my first time ever scoring a PR where there was a bell, so there's a first time for everything!
Post race we grabbed some pizza and beer and hung out with Rochester Running Company, then Marcus and Maria dropped me off at the Y to take the kids to swim lessons (who says you get to nap after a race?) It actually worked out well to get some of the lactic acid out of my legs, being in the water, though I'm not gonna lie, I'm sore as hell today. The one bonus is my foot seems to be doing well, so I'm optimistic the culprit was my new shoes!
Overall Stats:
Official Finish Time: 1:40:19 (7:38 pace)
Distance: 13.16
Age Group: 5th/127
Overall Women: 30th/887
Total Overall: 147/1596
To say that I'm beyond thrilled is a huge understatement. Another bonus:
The data. While I'm fast learning the importance of data and a race plan, I have to say I usually suck at going out conservatively and finishing strong. The proof that I executed this race well is evident in my overall pace - I nearly negative split the thing (49:57/50:22) and with all the hills on the back half, that's damn good. My first 3 miles were run in 22:46 and my last 3 miles were run in 22:27, with the last .16 at a 6:20 pace. I'd like to frame that as evidence I'll sorely need in 4 weeks when I toe the line at Buffalo....she can be taught!
Flower City - you gave me my long held PR 8 years ago, and once again, did not disappoint. I'm sorry to say I plan on breaking 1:40 before 2027, but if I don't do it this year, I'll catch ya in 2020!
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