Gusher No. 5

It's taken me a while to get out the post-race blog on this one, particularly because it means so much to me in so many ways. Also, it's not like I cured cancer or anything, so I needed a little space for appropriate perspective.

But here it is...

I ran the very first Gusher Half-Marathon in 2010. I finished in 3:11:40.7. Saturday, I ran my fifth Gusher Half-Marathon, and finished in 1:51:13. That time was good enough to get second in my age group of women 40-44.

(This is me, grinning from ear to ear. And then grinning some more.)

I didn't have a lot of expectations going into this race. Since the first time, I've been fairly inconsistent in my times. I had a year where I finished in just under 2 hours, and then the next year, I finished in a little more than 2 hours.

So who knew what I was going to end up with?

Last year, I started out with high expectations. I went way too fast way too soon, and slowed down pretty fast.

This year, I just ran.

I maintained a fairly consistent 8:15-ish pace through the first 11 miles. Then when I got to mile 11, I realized that even if I slowed down to 10-minute miles, I'd still make my goal of under two hours, so I slowed down a bit.

(The winner of my age group beat me by about 5 minutes; I wish I hadn't slowed down.)

I'm going to be absolutely honest here: I am so damned proud of myself.

So. Damned. Proud.

When I was in junior high, I didn't pass that Presidential Physical Fitness Test because I couldn't run a mile in the time allotted.

When I first started this running thing, at the age 33, I was slow. So very, very slow. And everything jiggled. And I was self-conscious. And nervous.

And now?

Look at me go.

It's not you...it's me...

OK. Maybe it's you, too.

I'm breaking up with my gym.

I went from absolutely LOVING it to dreading it. I almost made the decision last night not to run rather than submit myself to the damn treadmill.

I originally joined the gym because I wanted access to classes and weights. It was close to my daughter's dance school and instead of shopping while she took classes, I theoretically could drive down and get a run or a class in or lift some weights.

I've realized, though, that despite what I should do, I'm a runner. Period. I don't want to lift weights. I don't want to take classes. I just want to run. And I want to run outside..

The gym has its faults, too. They come down to two basic issues:

Parking. Yes, it's a public parking lot; they don't have a lot of control over it. There have been a few times when I have gone to the gym to run while a kid was at an activity and I had to just turn around and go back to wait for the kid. There was no parking. It wasn't that the parking was too far away or whatever -- there was none. Sometimes, it was because there were that many people there, but sometimes, it was because the people who were there were taking up more than one space for zero reason. I don't suffer fools, y'all.

Treadmills. There are about 40 treadmills there, I guess. At any given time, a quarter of them have issues. They're either not working or not working well -- the screen doesn't respond when I'm inputting data unless I practically hit it, or the incline doesn't work, or the TV screen is screwy. One of them won't let you increase your speed after you've started running.

In preparation for this, I did order a very lightweight rain jacket. I also bought an exercise ball, Googled core exercises for runners, and boom. Instant class that I can do anywhere and anytime.

During the Christmas holidays, when I was off from work, I ran outside twice a day every single day. It was cold (not as cold as it has been), but I just layered up and ran. When we have had our super-cold days, I've bundled up and headed out.

So why exactly am I paying for the gym?

During the few too-wonderful-to-believe days we've had over the past few weeks, I've run near where my daughter has dance. I've run outside around campus at work. The weather is just going to get better (in my opinion) in the coming weeks.

So why exactly am I paying for the gym?

Ah, that's right. I'm not anymore.

Marathon, one week later.

It's more difficult to recover from a marathon at almost 42 than at almost 40.

At least that's been my experience this time around.

Maybe it's not age. Maybe it's effort. I ran faster this marathon than I did my first and my second.

Either way, I crashed hard this past Tuesday night. I guess I was running on that endorphin high until I wasn't anymore.

Tuesdays are a stressful day for me anyway. My daughter has dance class from 6-6:45 p.m. in Beaumont, and then my son has tutoring from 7:45-8:45 p.m., also in Beaumont. That is why I found myself sound asleep in the Starbucks parking lot that night.

I didn't even eat when I got home because I was so exhausted. And then Wednesday, I woke up with a pounding headache. So I threw in the towel and stayed home from work. I hated to do it, but I needed serious recovery time.

In addition to the exhaustion and the headache, my right shoulder was killing me. I don't swing my arms excessively when I run, but I suppose just holding it in one position for almost 5 hours put undue strain on it.

That day of total and complete rest was a lifesaver. I thought that since I had Martin Luther King Day off, I'd be OK. But then I spent that day running errands and supervising kid school projects, so not so much on the rest part.

I went back to running on Thursday and that was great. I ran six miles on Thursday, six on Friday and then eight on Saturday.

No problems whatsoever. In fact, after you've run 26.2 miles, six miles feels like nothing.

So I'm back to it, now. My next race is The Gusher Half-Marathon in March. I'd really like to do 1:50:00 there.

I spent Monday looking at races, and I think I've decided to do a half in the fall, and then hit up the Austin Marathon in February 2015.

I'd really like to do Houston again, but I can't do both, physically, and then I may not make it in through the lottery again. And if I'm going to do Austin, I'm going to do Austin, which means extensive hill work.

I live 15 feet above sea level, so yeah... I'm going to have to research how to properly train for that. The 1020 race I did in Austin last year was a relatively flat course, and even that had some hills. I don't think the marathon makes any sort of flat proclamation -- the Web page says that it has a total ascent of 591 feet, topping out at 764 feet.

So look for that information to come. I'm going to start reading Hansons Marathon Method: A Renegade Path to Your Fastest Marathon. Maybe I'll utilize their method; maybe I won't.

---

I think the secret to my PR at the Houston Marathon was all the training I did on tired legs. In the past, I've taken rest days, rested the day after long runs or took it very easy the day after a long run. Not this time. I pushed myself every single day. I didn't really take it "easy" on any run.

I think that's what helped me keep going, that's what made it feel so easy. That's why I never hit the infamous wall.

And it makes sense: If you only run on fresh legs, then you don't know how to push through when you get tired.

2014 Chevron Houston Marathon...

But first, a story:

Years and years and years ago, AM (after marriage) but BK (before kids), I was assistant sports editor at the newspaper here in town.

Marathon time came around, and the editor wanted a story. "Find someone from here who is running it and interview him or her," he said. So I looked on the list the marathon committee sent in the mail (no Internet yet!!) and found six or seven people from here running it. And I started calling and found someone.

I don't remember the man's name, but he was in his late 20s and agreed to let me write a story on him. The problem was, he was very busy and the only time he really had to talk was during his training run, at 4 a.m. the next day.

This is where I stop and tell you that while I was not overweight at this point in time, I was very definitely not active. At all. Like, EVER. I was happily getting by on my 20-something-year-old metabolism and thrilled at that, thankyouverymuch. Eating what I wanted, sleeping all sorts of hours, drinking after work a couple of nights a week...those were the days...

So if the only time this man had to meet with me was during his training run, then that's what I would do.

I met him in his front yard, got some basic info and we started off.

Ummmm...I kept up for maybe 10 minutes, but it was probably more like five. It felt like three hours.

So I trailed off and got him on the phone later that day and got the story done.

---

Yesterday, I ran the Chevron Houston Marathon.

Before I get into the specifics of my run, I have to say that Houston does marathons right. Everything, and I do mean everything, was done to make things as easy as possible for runners and their families.

I guess after 42 years of doing this, they know what works and what doesn't.

I didn't have to wait in any lines to get my bib/participant shirt/etc. Everything was clearly marked. There was no wondering around aimlessly. At the end of the race, same thing.

I appreciated that because by the day before the race,  I was still holding it together, but very tenuously. I mean, the mixture of excitement and anxiety was at an all-time high. Any little bump on the way would have made everything topple.

The weather the day of the race could not have been more perfect. This was the weather I was supposed to get in Dallas for my first marathon (you know, the one that was cold and rainy). This was the weather that I didn't get in San Antonio (that was the one where highs hit the upper 80s by mid-marathon).

Temps at the start for Houston was 52, so a little chilly, but it warmed up to the low 70s by mid-race, so again, perfection.

I had figured that I needed to keep a 10:16 per mile pace to get in the 4:30 range. That was totally do-able, and through the first three-quarters of the race, I was doing it. The first three-quarters, I actually was on pace to finish ahead of my 4:30 goal.

But my head got in the way, as usual. Physically, I can do this. Mentally, I have to keep myself in check.

I was in the D corral (they assign you corrals according to your estimated finish time). There were 8 port-a-potties in my corral and a million and five runners who needed to use them. I had used the bathroom three times before it got crowded and then I had to go again. The line was super long by that point and I just didn't think I'd get through it before my corral was allowed to start. So I decided to stop at the first line of port-a-potties I saw.

Big mistake.

At the end of the first mile, when I was at a totally reasonable 9:45 pace, I stopped to wait in line at a port-a-potty. There were two men and one woman in front of me. The first man was taking FOREVER. Even at the beginning of a race, those things are gross, so I can't imagine why anyone would want to stay in them longer than they absolutely had to. He apparently was making himself at home.

I must have made an exasperated sigh, because the woman in front of me said, "Yeah. Let me tell you a secret: Never get in a bathroom line behind men. If a man is waiting for a bathroom, he has to poop. Otherwise, he could just pee on the side of the road."

Ugh. And that's totally what that man and the man after him was doing.

So once I got out of that horrendous line, I ran faster than my pace I had decided on, to make up the 8 or so minutes I wasted.

That pace felt so good that I decided to keep it up as long as I could, which was to the half-marathon point. And then I just couldn't do it anymore and had to slow down. I didn't slow down terribly, but still.

I had two more bathroom breaks during the marathon -- irritating, but comforting at the same time, because at least I knew I wasn't dehydrated. I stopped my Garmin each time I waited for the bathroom, and started it back up once I was done.

Doing that, my time on the Garmin was 4:35:33, instead of the official time of 4:46:49. So yeah, I spent a total of 11 minutes on bathroom stops.

Even though I had to slow down eventually, I felt good through the whole marathon. I never reached that point of, "OMG. I can't do this. I don't want to do this." Rather, whenever I'd pass a mile marker, I'd think, "Really? Another mile just passed? Wow."

To that, I have to give credit to the spectators -- again, Houston does it right. They were out in droves, with great signs, noise-makers, funny costumes...it was great. And they saw my name on my bib and called it out frequently. Little kids lined up to give high-fives, and homeowners in the neighborhoods we ran through had orange slices, pretzels and banana halves. A high school band played. Rice had a brass quintet out.

I was so interested in what was happening on the sidewalks that I wasn't paying a lot of attention to the miles I was plowing through.

My Garmin was off with the race route (and that is the "fault" of the Garmin, not of the marathon committee -- they have measured and re-measured and had other official people come out and measure) so that was a little frustrating. It would vibrate that I had passed another mile, but oh, not really. Just kidding. ;-)

The best part was the finish: I finished right behind a man dressed as Robo Cop. Now, that would be funny by itself, but this Robo Cop was packing heat...two bubble guns that he had going continuously. So I got to finish the Houston Marathon in a cascade of bubbles.

I don't think I could ask for anything better than that. :-)

I cried at the finish line. Not because I didn't make my goal. After the San Antonio marathon (where I finished in almost 5:30), I was very depressed. You're supposed to improve on your marathon time after each one, and I went very backward on that one.

I thought maybe I was fooling myself with this marathon business. Maybe I was fooling myself with this running business.

So I went a whole year not running a marathon, just stripping everything down to the bare bones, and getting back to running.

I think it paid off, since I cut almost an entire hour off my last time. So I cried because I know I can do it, and because I did it.

---

I know you've seen the quote...on Pinterest, on Facebook, wherever:

   "Tell me, what is it you plan to do
   with your one wild and precious life?"
   --- "The Summer Day," Mary Oliver

Before the marathon, I wrote that on my arm. Whenever I felt like I was lagging or felt like I wanted to slow down even more, I looked at it and took strength from those words.

I'm almost 42. I've spent a lot more life doing the "safe" thing, doing the expected and usual things. No more.

One wild and precious life. That's all you get. Live it to the fullest, right?

---


The first part of this last week, I had decided that the Houston Marathon would be my very last marathon. The taper is too hard on my emotions and my family.

I'd focus on the half-marathon -- getting faster and faster. I'd run a 20-miler once or twice a month, but no need for anything official.

But then I finished out the week strong. And then I had the perfect marathon.

So...I'm not going to count myself out of a fourth marathon yet. I have that 4:30 time in me, I just know it.

---

Final stats:

Gun time: 5:06:42

Chip time (from the time I actually crossed the starting line): 4:46:49

246 out of 455 women ages 40-44.

1,474 out of 7,046 women running the marathon.

4,517 out of 14,094 total running the marathon.

Choosing joy.

Wednesday was a horrible day, y'all.

I was fine until I wasn't. And then it went all sideways. A simple decision to grab something to eat while my daughter was in her evening dance class turned into an anxiety nightmare that had me crying while eating veggie chili in the HEB parking lot (where the dance studio is).

How sad is that?

I was ready to decide not to run in the marathon this weekend, just so I could run and get some relief.

I was telling an acquaintance about this tapering business earlier in the week, confessing to my anxiety and how out of control it is now.

"But, honestly, I've really never noticed any anxiety coming from you," she said. "Even when we're up against a wall on something, you are able to work out a solution."

Well, duh. Because running.

I woke up Thursday morning still not sure what I was going to do. I still had time to cancel the hotel. Again, I'd lose my entry fee, but it would be a cheap price to pay to feel normal again.

And then I got on Facebook. I have a friend whom I have known for years (since elementary school, maybe?). We've never been particularly close, but we are friends on Facebook and I enjoy reading about her girls' exploits.

This friend also has a fairly serious issue that she deals with daily. Every day, this is part of her life, and it has been for years.

Thursday on Facebook, her statuses were filled with sassy, fiery pronouncements. Pep talks to herself, but really for all of us.

And they hit home for me that morning. What in the hell was I doing? Pouting, crying, being generally grumpy and cranky all because I couldn't run?

Is that who I am?

I decided right then and there that if my friend could face her trials with spunk and optimism and sass then I could face my first-world problem with all of that too.

I mean, really...I am healthy enough to contemplate running a marathon. I am healthy enough to train to run a marathon. I have already run two, and while the last one was a disappointment for me performance-wise, I was able to complete it.

What am I getting all upset and anxious about?

So I am, to borrow a sort of tired and cliched phrase, choosing joy. I am making a concentrated effort to focus on the fun part of the marathon.

And don't get me wrong, when I am finally able to unleash these restless legs on Sunday morning, I will be having a blast.

It's working, y'all. I don't know if the excitement of the race is catching up to me or if my serious effort at controlling my emotions and anxiety is doing it, but I made it through yesterday with nary a meltdown. I didn't even get close.

I understand that this is a quick fix, and if I were facing prolonged downtime because of an injury or something, it wouldn't necessarily work. But to get me through a few days until I can run?

Totally do-able.

So how's that taper going?

Let's see...

Yesterday, I cried after hearing Christina Perri's song "A Thousand Years" on the radio, after looking in my rear view mirror and seeing my daughter singing along with her iPod, when I stubbed my toe lightly on the sidewalk at work, and when I read Johnny Manziel's letter declaring for the NFL Draft.

I got enraged at Top Chef when Nicholas didn't get sent home. At the people who were too noisy while they walked into Orange Leaf Frozen Yogurt while I waited in the car for Katie after dance. And I silently seethed when I got to the food truck at exactly noon and my order that I had texted in an hour before wasn't ready.

And while I was waiting for my daughter to get done with her dance class, I was contemplating deferring my entry into the Houston Marathon until 2015. That's a thing; I'd have to pay another $100+ entry fee, but I could do that.

(I'm not. All it would do would be to push my anxiety a year off and that doesn't help anything or anyone in the end.)

I have to figure out a way to better manage my emotions when I don't run as much as I usually do. The past several months, I've run 60-70 miles a week, sometimes more. Twelve miles a day, Monday through Thursday, six on Friday and Sunday, and then 13-20 on Saturday.

This week, I've run six on Sunday, eight on Monday and Tuesday and six on Wednesday.

Next week will be even worse.

I have options. I can:

• Deal with the anxiety during the taper. I only run a marathon a year (although I was hoping to run a second this year), so really two weeks isn't that big of a deal. (Oh, and the few days the week after that I don't run.)
• Talk to my doctor and get medication to get me through this.
• Swear off marathons and stick to half-marathons. I don't taper for halfs. I may take the day off before a half-marathon, but I keep my mileage the rest of the week the same.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I like the third option the best, but although halfs are much less stressful for me, they're also kind of boring. What's exciting about running one mile more than I do on a regular day?

I have to decide if it's worth it. The feeling of finishing a marathon vs. the feeling of not running as much/not running at all.

I just don't know.

What's ahead...

I know it's been a while, but kids, running, work, stuff keeps me going. And when I finally do wind down at the end of the night, I settle into my recliner, watch crappy TV and fall asleep.

But it's the first day of a new year, though, and you know how much I love that stuff. So here are my year-end stats:

I ran a total distance of 2,679 miles on 2013. My goal was to run 2,000. ;-)

According to my Garmin stats, I burned more than 188,000 calories. That's not entirely true -- I wasn't putting in my manual treadmill stats correctly for the first three months, so that total doesn't include those calories.

I put in the most miles in December, with 317. I'm particularly proud of that. I am fortunate enough to have two weeks off in December, and I always say that I'm going to stick to my running schedule and possibly even run more, because I have the time. And then I sabotage myself by putting off the running until later and then later never comes because we're busy or there's something more fun to do.

Not this year. I ran early and late, I snuck in runs before family gatherings, I did what I needed to do when I needed to do it!

If there's anything I would have done differently, it would have been to push myself on vacation to run more. I was in Colorado, for goodness' sakes, and I woke up hours before my family every single day. I could have easily driven to one of the two or three running paths near our hotel and gotten in a run.

I am a bit disappointed that I didn't follow through with my goal of running a race a month. I did run quite a few races though:

• Cowtown Half-Marathon, Fort Worth
• The Gusher Half-Marathon, Beaumont
• The Austin 10/20, Austin
• The Seahawks 5K, Port Arthur
• Color Run, Beaumont
• United Way 5K, Port Neches
• Turkey Trot 10K, Beaumont

---

The Houston Marathon is nineteen days away. I ran my first 20-miler this past weekend and it went fine. I felt good all through the run, I kept a steady pace, and I wasn't wrecked during or after the run. In the past, I was completely useless after a 20-miler, and walked gingerly around the house for a couple of days after.

I'm excited, scared, nervous. I think I will do better than my 5-hours-plus finish at SA, but how close I'll get to my goal of 4:30 is anyone's guess.