The Deckers Creek Trail Half Marathon

I did it! I set a goal that seemed crazy, and I achieved it. As a fat kid and non-athletic adult, part of me never thought -- even a couple of weeks ago -- that I would actually complete this race. I am ridiculously proud of myself and I'm already thinking about running it again next year.
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I took Friday off from work because I knew I would be a ball of nerves, and I needed to get things ready for my trip up to Morgantown. Brad came home from work around noon and brought me a Jimmy John's veggie sub, my absolute favorite sandwich ever. He then packed up and headed to Ohio to race the Mohican 100 and I took Ilsa to the dog spa (AKA Shamrock Stables Boarding Kennel) and headed out.

I spent Friday night at the Clarion Hotel Morgan, which is a beautiful old historic hotel right in downtown Morgantown. There was a special rate for the half marathon, otherwise I would never have been able to afford it. I checked in, then walked over to Black Bear Burritos to get dinner. I ordered the Wing it! burrito to go, and took it back to my hotel room to eat. I drank a bunch of water, watched "I Love You Man" in bed, and then zonked out around 10:00. Do I know how to party or what?
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On Saturday I woke up, ate my peanut butter on bread (no toaster), packed up, checked out, and drove to the Hazel Ruby McQuain park to pick up my race packet. There, all of the runners were loaded onto buses and driven to the trailhead in Masontown. I was so nervous during the bus ride. Luckily, I sat next to a friendly, chatty guy who has five kids and was running with his wife, both of them in Vibram Five Fingers! We talked about West Virginia, his shoes, and our training. He told me that I was more dedicated than most, for driving up from Charleston all by myself to do the race. Talking to this guy really calmed my nerves -- I never got his name or saw him after the race, but I hope he did well!

Once we arrived at the trailhead, I waited in line for a really long time to use a port-a-potty, walked about 400 feet down the trail to where everyone was convening, and soon someone yelled "Go!"

So I went.

I had previously committed to using the Galloway Method due to my injured foot. I ran through my first couple of walk intervals (even though Jeff Galloway says those are the most important!) and then settled into my 5:1 intervals. I firmly believe in the power of the walk breaks now. The first few intervals, I would get passed by people during my walk breaks. I would pass them again when running, and they would pass me during my next walk break, etc. But you know what? After about 4 miles, I never saw those people again. They were fading and I was speeding up.

The first 10 miles went by relatively quickly. I stopped at every water station (there were 7, which was awesome) and had water at one, Gatorade at the next. I had eaten 2 of my Powerbar Energy Blasts at mile 7, and that plus all the Gatorade gave me a little boost when I needed it.

Miles 11-13 were tough for me. They were on pavement (the rest had been wooded, dirt trail) and in bright sun. It was hot and my feet were starting to hurt. My right foot was cramping a bit, but my left arch (the injured one) was actually doing OK. I kept trucking along at my intervals. There was a high school rock band playing under a tent at mile 11. There was a water station and a hose spraying down at the trail at mile 12 -- that felt wonderful! A guy wearing a surgical mask rode past me on a recumbent bike with a boombox BLARING Will Smith's "Miami." Not sure where he came from.

Pretty soon I saw mile 13! There were a bunch of people cheering. I was almost there! I ignored my Garmin beeping for my last walk interval and ran right through the finish, grabbed a bottle of water from a volunteer, and went to stand under one of the hoses that were set up to cool people off. I took off my hat and got my hair nice and wet. Then I walked for about 1/2 a mile, ate a slice of pizza, and talked to an acquaintance, Shelly, who had also raced. Before I left, I drank another bottle of water and a bottle of Gatorade. It was HOT and I was pretty dehydrated.

I finished in 2:31, which I am really very proud of. My goal had been 2:45 and, with my injury, and I wasn't sure that I would even achieve that. This race was awesome. The course was beautiful, the volunteers were amazing, and the water stops were well-stocked and often.

Every mile -- every single step -- of my training, motivation, preparation, and race was done alone. Would it have been more fun if I'd had a friend to run with or someone waiting for me at the finish? Probably. But I did it, despite thinking that I never could or would, and I did it all. by. my. self.

The Bad News

I always want the bad news first. So here it is: my first half marathon, for which I have been training for months, is next weekend. And I hurt my foot.

I had to go out of town for work last Wednesday, and I ended up walking all over downtown Huntington. In ballet flats. And somehow, I stepped off a curb weirdly and strained/pulled/hurt the arch of my left foot. I took a few days off from running, and I've been icing, taping, and taking it easy since. My last long run that was supposed to be last Saturday, was shortened to 6 miles. I feel, suddenly, totally unprepared. I wanted to get one last long run in. I wanted to feel awesome and finish with a time that I was proud of. I wanted, I wanted.

Sometimes shit happens. Life is full of setbacks. I was on the verge of freaking out for a couple of days, until Brad reminded me that I want to continue to run for many years, right?

So here's the good news (there's always good news): I'm going to do it anyway. I'm going to show up with my weirdly taped foot and, if it's not 100% better, I'll set my watch for 5:1 intervals, and Galloway this bitch.

And you know? I think I'll still feel proud. Finishing a 13.54 (according to the course map) run, even with a one minute walk break out of every six, is still an accomplishment, something I never thought I would do, ever. I'm going to try to remember that as I eat everyone's dust next Saturday.

Charleston Lately

Brad is gone for the weekend at a 9-hour mountain bike race. Not only did he take my car, the peanut butter, and all of the beer we had in the house, but he also took the last of the coffee. That was a pleasant surprise this morning.

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KSF is beautiful, the trails have been great, and I went for an 11-mile run with this guy this morning:
He and I were running at about the same pace today. Look at the pity in his eyes. He's all "Dude, lady. You should be faster than that by now."

I know, turtle, I know. It was just a bad day.

I also saw my first ever bear while running today. It was HUGE and lumbering away from the trail I was on. I stopped for a minute to contemplate what I should do. Sneak away? Continue to stand completely still, staring at it? Yell? In the end, I just continued on my run, checking over my shoulder every now and then. It did not give chase.

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My friend Misty turned us on to these real femur bones that are filled with food for our dog. She (the dog, not Misty) has been gnawing on a bacon and cheese flavored one for the past week, with her eyes closed in ecstasy. Probably one of the better purchases I have made for her.

If you have a dog, especially one who is lazy yet needs constant attention like our dog, I highly recommend these. It keeps her occupied for hours.

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We finally bought that living room furniture! I am the proud owner of two huge comfortable couches and I love them. They're so nice that they make all of our other furniture look extra shitty in comparison.

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Week 5 Training

Monday - yoga + 3 mile run
Tuesday - 3 mile run, tempo pace
Wednesday - 2.75 mile run, 5 horrible hellish hill sprints at the end
Thursday - unplanned rest day. My knee was bugging me.
Friday - Blissful Rest!
Saturday - 11 miles that took a lifetime
Sunday - 4 or 5, depending upon my mood tomorrow