Reflections on Salem Lake

This past Saturday, I would have won an award for a fast finish long run in reverse during the 30K race at Salem Lake in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Here's the full story: on Friday I drove up to the "Piedmont" area of North Carolina; a region known best for its furniture. I stayed with my good college/running buddy and her husband for the weekend to run this race and have a visit.

Saturday morning came quickly after a night of restless sleep. We had planned to get up at 6:00 a.m. in preparation for the 8:00 a.m. start time. Fortunately, I woke up at about five minutes before 6:00 a.m., because running buddy's alarm never went off. Running buddy's parents came and picked us up and we arrived at the race in plenty of time for packet pick-up and portalet lines. Last year, we quickly got our packets and got out of the portalets just as the starting gun was fired.

The game plan for this race: I didn't exactly have one. Everything for me was "up in the air." I didn't know exactly what I was going to wear. I couldn't decide which of the three pairs of running shoes I have currently in circulation to use. When we left the house I had narrowed it down to two. I switched from the ones on my feet to the ones I'd brought on the ride over to the race. All of this unplanned madness was something of a "bad omen." Part of me said, run the first 10 miles or so easy, and try to do the last eight at marathon pace.

The starting gun went off. The start seemed incredibly thick as running buddy and I picked our way through the pack. We hit the first mile in about 9:20. Okay, so it's a bit fast if I'm just using this as a long run. The next mile clocked in at right around 9:00 minutes. Crap. Okay, so I'm hoping to run somewhere between 8:50-9:00 miles in the marathon. Maybe I'll just run this whole race at my goal pace. The next several miles click off at this same 9:00 minute pace. It feels relatively comfortable. At one point, running buddy veers off for a pit stop. She later hustles to catch back up to me. Running buddy and I hang together talking and feeling okay through about mile 8 or so. At this point, running buddy picks up the pace and I don't follow suit. Usually in most races, I stay with running buddy for the first third of the race, then she leaves me. In this instance, I felt comfortable with letting her go because I preferred to use the race as a training run. From mile nine on, I gradually slowed down to my usual long run crawl and finished in just under three hours. Running buddy finished ahead of me by many minutes. Yet, I can't change what I've done. Rather, I can only look forward to the marathon and the future.

I'm worried about this marathon for many reasons.

1. I'm not sure physically if I can do a sub 4-hour race.
2. I'm supposed to run this marathon with running buddy, who typically kicks my arse. I'm worried if I run with her, I'll crash and burn. The term "wall" will be nothing compared to what I'd experience.

The bottom line is, I need to have a firm game plan, regardless of everything else. I need to plan on hitting the nines every mile as close as possible and to stay focused after 20 miles. Now, if I can just figure out my shoe dilemmas....

Family Time

I've been thinking about what to post since it has been a while. I've been in a funk of late because of distress at work, running, etc. Running life has been a challenge, but I think physically I'm starting to rebound a bit. However, I'm tired of my own negativity. There are so many unfortunate life happenings happening right now, I'm salvaging the fun elements to share with the virtual world read by no one.

We received a call from brother-in-law (the New Orleans evacuee) Saturday afternoon asking us if we'd like to get together Sunday afternoon to visit with sister-in-law and their two daughters who are six and three. A trip to see them would give an opportunity to check out where they're living (temporarily) and talk more about what their plans are for the future. Sister-in-law is seeking employment locally and has promising prospects. Hopefully brother-in-law heard back yesterday that he got a job (we're not sure yet). They plan to purchase a house somewhere convenient to both of their workplaces where there are good schools for the girls. The real treat for the visit was interacting with our nieces. B-, who is six, will certainly grow up to be an entertainer or something artistic. She insisted on performing a song, which she carefully introduced mimicking that she was holding a microphone while standing on the hearth of the fireplace. I was touched that B- gave me a colored in Seasame Street scene with Ernie and Bert which is now posted on our fridge. Even better, the scene featured Ernie and Bert on a roller coaster with Bert looking as though he was about to toss his cookies with his hand over his mouth. She said she didn't have time to make one for my husband. P-, who is three, is destined to be an engineer or a truck driver. She's amazingly independent for being so young. When the time came for the six of us to shuttle off to dinner, the girls wanted to ride with us. This brief excursion was a trip. There was non-stop chatter at high volume (including B-'s rendition of the "itchy bitchy" spider - I was trying to teach "itsy bitsy", but in the chortling frenzy from B- it always came out unintentionally something like "itchy bitchy") which reached a crescendo of us blurting out Spanish phrases being repeated back by the girls. When we erupted from the car there was a torrent of "holas" and other Spanish phrases flying around. I think husband would agree with me when I say that we like children on a part-time basis only.

Changes

The symbol of the butterflies continues as a harbinger of change.

I've decided to abandon the Pfitzinger 18/55 plan for this marathon and revert back to Higdon for the next nine weeks. This decision came after my lingering ankle soreness (probably tendonitis) was joined by other aches and pains (my knees). It seemed as though my running was only slowing down with each week and becoming more tedious. A year ago at this time I couldn't wait to get home from work and hit the roads, now I am dreading having to slave out the evening on the pavement. The Higdon plan will give me some much needed breaks that I would not have had with Pfitz's plan. Until I can gain a little speed, to do multiple 50+ mile weeks in a row is merely self-punishment. This change was not a light-hearted whimsical decision. Rather, I feel that I'm letting myself down a bit. However, I'll still include similar interval workouts prescribed in the Pfitz plan to gain some of the VO2 Max benefits as well as a few tune-up races. The problem with marathons is that a person spends 18 weeks preparing for one day. A person doesn't truly know if the training methodology was sound until tested.

Other changes abound in life with these flitting butterflies. Two of the people in my office, the two people who I feel most comfortable with, are leaving. My officemate (we share a decent-sized room divided by a modular furniture wall) is retiring after working at this organization for 26 years. He has another job lined up that's a mere five miles from his house, compared to the 80 mile round trip voyage he makes daily these days. Another woman who hasn't been working in our office long (about ten months) is leaving as well to work for another facet of our organization. She is an amazing woman who expresses a compassion friendliness and warmth to those around her. Both of these individuals are moving on to better avenues in life.

Their changes have me thinking about my calling in life. As I toil in my current occupation, I consistently come back to the idea of sharing my enjoyment of literature and writing. I'm considering doing a program at our local university in which I'd receive an M.Ed. and be certified to teach in a middle or secondary environment. The program begins during the summer semester and concludes at the end of the following summer semester - 14 months. I'll probably line up the Praxis exam in November (a week after the marathon) and take it from there. We shall see.

Homecoming

Sister-in-law was evacuated from the Big Easy on Thursday night. My husband got the call that evening at about 10:00 p.m. that she had finally boarded a helicopter and was transported to Lafayette, Louisiana en route to Houston. Early Saturday morning she flew out of Houston to Georgia where she and her family will begin anew. We saw her on Saturday afternoon. She looked weary, but was in relatively good spirits considering the conditions she had endured in the previous days. The biggest evident emotional scar during our visit was her aversion to canned peaches, given that she had survived the past several days on canned fruit and snack crackers. There was just such an utter sense of relief now that she's away from New Orleans. Sister-in-law and family have been blessed with acts of kindness; someone has offered them a spacious house that was for sale to live in immediately. The hospital where she worked has been extraordinarily supportive; she stands a good chance at beginning a job here soon. Many folks with whom my husband and I work have offered to help in any way they can. We sent brother-in-law away today with one of our vehicles to use for as long as they need it, as well as some toys a co-worker of my husband's provided.

On Friday night, we were able to take brother-in-law and his father to an Atlanta Braves game. Husband scored some spectacular tickets at the last minute. We were seven rows back from the third baseline near the dugout. We achieved the intimacy of a minor league game at a major league ball park. We could count the whiskers on Ken Griffey Jr.'s face. Chipper Jones hit a home run just after I shouted "Come on, Chip-pa!" I'd like to think I had something to do with his success.

I guess I can talk a bit about running now. The Braves game threw me off my "schedule." But, I need to be more flexible in life, so the Braves game was great. I had my first 20-miler of the training cycle on Sunday. It went fairly well, but slow. By the way, Garmin Forerunner unit number 4 and counting has recently bit the dust. Just like the last one, the unit has become possessed and turns itself on and off. I've sent a note to Garmin, but I've given up hope on finding a working Forerunner. For now, it's just me guessing mileage and a watch. I plan to do some timed workouts at the local track (I'm not looking forward to my 12 mile pace run on Sunday). Nonetheless, the Garmin's failure is yet another sign that I need to be more flexible and take life less seriously. Now must be the time of year for butterflies. I've seen them everywhere and see at least one on every run. The butterflies are my constant pleasant reminder of the beauty of change.


I'm worried about how I'll do with this marathon. I've reached a juncture where I don't think I'll attempt a spring race because my body needs a break. I've forgotten what it's like not to be sore.