Takin' it to the Streets
I never would have expected that two years after the birth of our daughter, that I would be running better than I have in my whole life. The past two weeks have fueled my running fire. I'm ready to roll and find some speed.
Several months ago, college running buddy and I decided to sign up for the Chickamauga Half Marathon in November as our return to running. We both felt that marathoning remains a distant past and future with shorter races being far more realistic. As such, I picked out my favorite Hal Higdon schedule and toyed with it a bit to come up with some kind of training plan. For twelve weeks, I got up early (6:00 a.m.) nearly six days a week to run. I slowly churned through the miles and did something akin to "speedwork" once a week or so. Race day arrived quickly and I was ready to have this November race in the books. Having never run a half marathon faster than two hours, that was my goal: 1:59:59 or bust. College running buddy and I had a great race in that we chatted and talked for the first 10 or so miles. Finally, running buddy said "one mile left" at the twelve mile mark. I kicked into overdrive, knowing that our goal was readily in hand. Running buddy hung with me until about the last 1/4 mile, when she put the hammer down, finishing 10 seconds ahead. I had forgotten to stop my watch, so my chip time wasn't apparent, but the results were expediently posted. I broke two hours: 1:55:12. Despite the pleasure of reaching a goal, I had a nagging feeling. Running buddy and I had casually talked the whole race. We had only pushed at the last mile and we had a good amount of gas at the end. Maybe the goal was too conservative? Should we have pushed harder throughout?
These questions being unanswered, I noticed some other folks from the local running group doing the Thanksgiving Half Marathon for "fun." A couple of folks were recovering from injury. The wheels began to turn. Maybe I should do this race for fun too, but the cost is too expensive for my frugal bones. I called up one woman and asked her what her plan for the race was, to which she replied, "I'm not running now, are you planning to? You should take my number!" So, despite all of the directions that people shouldn't transfer numbers, I took running group woman's bib number and decided to run - for fun - and to keep someone else company because this woman couldn't run with her. So I met up with the other woman, who we'll call Bandana, early Thanksgiving morning to head downtown for the race. We had fun conversations and it turns out she was an interesting person that I enjoyed getting to know better. Shortly before the race, I said, "if we feel good, maybe we can try for a nine minute pace."
There it was: a goal of sorts. Try to break two hours again. The race started and I felt good. We were faster than the goal pace. We met with another running group man, Tall Dude. Tall Dude played college hoops and then race track instead. Nature called, so I hid behind some bushes and "stretched" for a moment. Then I pushed it to catch back up with Tall Dude and Bandana. I felt strong. I was running 8:45 or better each mile and lost Bandana, with Tall Dude trailing closely behind. The continuous thought was: "I have absolutely no business running this pace and I'm going to crash and burn on the second half where the hills are."
The crash never came. I chugged up the hills. I kept thinking: "don't let anyone pass you. If they pass you, that means you're slowing down, because they're slowing too and it's all a crazy mirage."
The beauty of a race with 8,500 people is that you're never alone and there's always someone to pass. Tall Dude reappeared a few times, and remained close on my heels throughout the race. We ran under the Olympic rings close to the finish; I caught sight of the clock which was ticking up from 1:55. I'm not sure what it was when I crossed the finish, but I hit my watch. Then I looked down: 1:53:17. But it wasn't really me. I ran under someone else's number and I didn't wear her chip. It's kind of like the old tree falling in the forest. It seems like an unofficial personal best.
It's on now. Let's see what I can really do.
Several months ago, college running buddy and I decided to sign up for the Chickamauga Half Marathon in November as our return to running. We both felt that marathoning remains a distant past and future with shorter races being far more realistic. As such, I picked out my favorite Hal Higdon schedule and toyed with it a bit to come up with some kind of training plan. For twelve weeks, I got up early (6:00 a.m.) nearly six days a week to run. I slowly churned through the miles and did something akin to "speedwork" once a week or so. Race day arrived quickly and I was ready to have this November race in the books. Having never run a half marathon faster than two hours, that was my goal: 1:59:59 or bust. College running buddy and I had a great race in that we chatted and talked for the first 10 or so miles. Finally, running buddy said "one mile left" at the twelve mile mark. I kicked into overdrive, knowing that our goal was readily in hand. Running buddy hung with me until about the last 1/4 mile, when she put the hammer down, finishing 10 seconds ahead. I had forgotten to stop my watch, so my chip time wasn't apparent, but the results were expediently posted. I broke two hours: 1:55:12. Despite the pleasure of reaching a goal, I had a nagging feeling. Running buddy and I had casually talked the whole race. We had only pushed at the last mile and we had a good amount of gas at the end. Maybe the goal was too conservative? Should we have pushed harder throughout?
These questions being unanswered, I noticed some other folks from the local running group doing the Thanksgiving Half Marathon for "fun." A couple of folks were recovering from injury. The wheels began to turn. Maybe I should do this race for fun too, but the cost is too expensive for my frugal bones. I called up one woman and asked her what her plan for the race was, to which she replied, "I'm not running now, are you planning to? You should take my number!" So, despite all of the directions that people shouldn't transfer numbers, I took running group woman's bib number and decided to run - for fun - and to keep someone else company because this woman couldn't run with her. So I met up with the other woman, who we'll call Bandana, early Thanksgiving morning to head downtown for the race. We had fun conversations and it turns out she was an interesting person that I enjoyed getting to know better. Shortly before the race, I said, "if we feel good, maybe we can try for a nine minute pace."
There it was: a goal of sorts. Try to break two hours again. The race started and I felt good. We were faster than the goal pace. We met with another running group man, Tall Dude. Tall Dude played college hoops and then race track instead. Nature called, so I hid behind some bushes and "stretched" for a moment. Then I pushed it to catch back up with Tall Dude and Bandana. I felt strong. I was running 8:45 or better each mile and lost Bandana, with Tall Dude trailing closely behind. The continuous thought was: "I have absolutely no business running this pace and I'm going to crash and burn on the second half where the hills are."
The crash never came. I chugged up the hills. I kept thinking: "don't let anyone pass you. If they pass you, that means you're slowing down, because they're slowing too and it's all a crazy mirage."
The beauty of a race with 8,500 people is that you're never alone and there's always someone to pass. Tall Dude reappeared a few times, and remained close on my heels throughout the race. We ran under the Olympic rings close to the finish; I caught sight of the clock which was ticking up from 1:55. I'm not sure what it was when I crossed the finish, but I hit my watch. Then I looked down: 1:53:17. But it wasn't really me. I ran under someone else's number and I didn't wear her chip. It's kind of like the old tree falling in the forest. It seems like an unofficial personal best.
It's on now. Let's see what I can really do.
posted by runninchick at 2:38 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home